With a hiker’s report on AllTrails mentioning slush on the trail, I felt both a deflating sensation, tempting me to stay at home and a rush of “now or never” pressure to embark on the climb up Chinook Pass before it closes for the season.
So we went.
“I can’t imagine driving all this way to school,” Dave said as we passed Greenwater, an 18-mile drive from Enumclaw, the high school I attended. I explained to him that students from Greenwater either stayed with friends in town or occasionally missed school on particularly snowy days, which were not uncommon due to its higher elevation of 1,000 feet.
As for our hike, we began at 5,900 feet, where two snowplows awaited us in a nearby parking lot. Holding my camera out, I snapped a photo and waved to the workers, asking, “All ready to go, huh?”
With Evelyn’s “Sharing is Caring” backpack filled with cashews, lunch meat, carrots and raisins strapped onto Dave’s back, we set off, wearing stocking caps, bulky coats, and tennis shoes.
The mostly flat terrain at the beginning of the trail led to plenty of squeals and hops from Evelyn as we passed an alpine lake, observed the changing colors of grasses and leaves, and admired the toothpick-thin Douglas firs.
I don’t mind vulnerability, and as I took in the surroundings, the overwhelming joy brought tears to my eyes. The mountains, particularly the Pacific Northwest mountains, are intertwined with a part of my spirit, and being in their presence, witnessing their strength and resilience, is truly a remarkable experience.
The rain eventually caught up with us, but it was light enough not to send us running back. At a clearing, next to a large pond with a canvas-colored minimalist tent, we hopped from sandbar to boulder, taking a break and savoring the scenery.
It was here that we decided to turn around, as the path was becoming waterlogged, making each step more deliberate.
After the home and during our drive back, a white Tesla passed us on a curve in a 35-mile-per-hour zone, which left me with strong feelings and some unkind wishes for them on the next curve. However, I quickly realized that it was my own reaction that I needed to address – that consuming, righteous irritation. The next thought that crossed my mind was a reminder to embrace the “what is-ness” of life. People pass, simple as that. Sure, but does it need to be reckless? I reminded myself to withhold judgment and simply accept that people pass. That’s it.
I might be a bit stubborn, but I’ll get there.
When I got home, I fulfilled a dream of making refried beans. Just like I mastered Mexican restaurant salsa during Covid, I recently dedicated myself to perfecting refried beans. Why, you ask? Well, because canned refried beans just can’t compare. So, in case you’re interested (and you should be because it’s awesome), fill a pan with a generous amount of oil, heat it up, and add half a chopped onion, a couple of cloves of garlic, and a Serrano or jalapeño pepper. After about five minutes of simmering on medium heat, add two cans of pinto beans (minus the liquid). Stir and let it cook for ten to twenty minutes. Then, remove the pepper and use an immersion blender or a regular blender to blend until smooth. Add a pinch of salt or chicken bouillon powder, and some cumin, and you’re done. If it’s too thick, just add a bit of water. Trust me, I’ve watched countless TikTok videos, and this is how it’s done.
So, my belly is full of that, along with some Costco chicken and tortilla soup. Dave really knocked it out of the park with that soup. I’ll share the recipe with you another day. For now, I’m on the hunt for a new book to read. I’ve decided to put down “Daisy Jones and the Six” – no matter how good the reviews may be. After 80 pages, I have no desire to pick it up again, so it’s going on the shelf for good.
With an hour to spare before bedtime, I’m heading to Goodreads and Reddit to find books similar to the ones I’ve already read and loved. I’ll see if any of the suggestions I find pique my interest. Alright, I hope you had a lovely Sunday. Take care.
Love, Jaclynn
Going On 40 