Paints in hand, I am an ant, crawling the edge of the mountain range before me. Imagining what it would be like to slowly hike that edge, I lay down a wet line then put color to the page. The range is formidable: the Olympic Mountains. I am on the High Divide Trail just above Heart Lake in The Seven-Lakes Basin District. My lunch spot overlooks the deep chasm of the Hoh River Valley 4,000 feet below, rolling up to the glorious mountain range above. The air is thin at 7,300 feet and the sun intense. It warms the bark on the mountain hemlock and whitebark pines in this alpine area and the smell is warm wood and sunshine.
How can I capture this reverence in a simple watercolor painting? Maybe in the colors I choose? I pull out bright oranges and blues, but it’s not anything near what I am feeling. I carry the art to an extra page; it is so immense. Here is a full heart, a feeling of aliveness and connection to the universe. I put the painting away and eat my lunch of cabbage salad, hummus, crackers and olives, feeling everything. The food is delicious and it nourishes my body that has worked so hard to get to this place.
It was not an easy feat for this 68-year-old body to climb 4,800 feet in 8 hours of hiking yesterday. It was 7.5 miles to Heart Lake, where I spent the night, grateful everything seemed to work along the way. Goddess knows, I could barely move when I got to camp. I collapsed on the ground under a sparse piece of shade with my feet blessedly raised upon the backpack and didn’t move for 30 minutes. Dark was coming though, and I knew I would be unhappy if I did not have a camp set up. Plus, I was getting hungry and needed more water.
Filtering water is the first task at camp. Taking my collapsible bucket and the 2-liter Sawyer bag, I used my plastic coffee cup to pour water from the stream into each. Back at camp, I filtered my entire 2-liter bladder full, so I would not need to do more water filtering in the morning. Then I filtered an extra liter for dinner, reserving the rest of the water for breakfast needs and cleanup.
Water done, I unpacked the backpack, pitched the tent and moved all food related items to the “kitchen”, generally a good distance from the tent. Clothes and sleeping items were zipped into the tent.
Dinner was a fairly simple set up – mostly all freeze dried, needing only hot water to rehydrate. Last night was meatloaf with mashed potatoes and apple pie for dessert. It was an easy cleanup of just my spork and cup to wash. After the filling meal, I enjoyed a cup of herbal tea afterwards, just soaking in the surroundings and letting my body digest. Sometimes I will get out my sketchbook or journal, unless I am too tired, which I was last night.
After a good night’s sleep, I ate a hearty breakfast of freeze-dried French toast with blueberries, lemon curd and maple syrup with a side of pre-cooked bacon. I knew this would be a longer day to Deer Lake (about 10 miles), though most of it was along the fairly flat ridge of the High Divide then descending on the other side of Bogachiel Peak.
The camp cleaned and pack ready, I do some stretches before I put the pack on. Then I brace my knee on a log and carefully swing the weight to my back, feeling the sore shoulders and hips where the straps hold everything together. My mantra when I put the pack on at the begging of a hike is “How fortunate am I? Everything I need is on my back!”
I slowly climbed another 1,000 feet to the ridge; slowly because my muscles were still waking. The view was breathtaking. On one side are the many small alpine lakes in the pristine glacial basin; on the other side is the dramatic Hoh River Valley gorge with its towering backdrop of the Olympic Mountains and blue glaciers. A great place for a lunch to take it all in.
There is no other place in the Olympic Mountains where you can see Mt. Olympus so close. I have a privileged front row seat at this magnificent view. I lean back on a log, feeling the sun warm my face, hearing a grouse rustle the leaves in a nearby brush, appreciating my strong body for allowing me to feel this specific aliveness. I allow these surroundings to seep into all my sore and exhausted places.
But alas, time is not to be my friend today, so I pack up my paints and lunch remains and head back to the trail, feeling on top of the world.
