Talapus and Olallie Lakes: How to Enjoy Your Visit

On a recent hike to Talapus and Olallie Lakes, I practiced “channeling my inner wood duck” (i.e. going with the flow). Ajax, my daughter, and a friend joined me on a sunny midweek adventure. To enjoy the trip yourself, plan on allowing at least 30-45 minutes to explore the shoreline at each lake. Join us on our journey into the woods.

Log jam at Talapus Lake under perfect conditions.
Log jam at Talapus Lake under perfect conditions.

At the Trailhead

We reached the trailhead at Exit 45 a little before 9. I’d suggested we leave early since we’re in peak hiking season and the Talapus Lake parking lot is small. Eleven cars were already parked when we arrived, leaving plenty of spaces. Hurray for midweek hikes!

The four of us headed up the Talapus Lake trail under sunny, clear conditions with a light breeze. More like what our guest, Zach, was used to in Arizona, rather than the rain we experienced four days earlier at Wallace Falls. This time he borrowed a water bottle and refilled it twice before starting the hike. There’s always something unexpected with teenagers!

Red marks and blue tape on select trees denote the extent of the logging area.
Red marks and blue tape on select trees denote the extent of the logging area.

Trail to Talapus and Olallie Lakes

The area near the parking lot has recently been logged up to a sign indicating the boundary of the Alpine Lakes Wilderness. WTA trail maintenance crews have worked extensively on this wide, moderate trail over the past decade, most recently in 2021. Since I have only accessed Talapus and Olallie via the Pratt Lake trail (at exit 47), I was excited to explore a new trailhead. We were not disappointed.

The din of I-90 traffic faded as we gradually climbed into a denser forest. My daughter and Zach hiked ahead with Ajax while I hung back to identify birdsong (17 species including a red-breasted sapsucker, a type of woodpecker) and shoot photographs (113) of treasures in the peaceful woods.

Gentle switchbacks lead to Talapus and Olallie Lakes.
Gentle switchbacks lead to Talapus and Olallie Lakes.
A close-up of what I loosely call shelf fungus with dew drops.
A close-up of what I loosely call shelf fungus with dew drops.

Waterfall Detour

One of the advantages of hiking in a small, private group rather than a larger guided group is the freedom and independence to explore. When we came across a river cascade beyond an enormous fallen tree, we meandered off-trail in search of cool vantage points and photo opportunities.

My heart nearly stopped when Zach contemplated crossing a mossy log that had fallen across a stream. When he glanced over at me shaking my head, he changed his mind and found another way. They may both be adults, but teen brains are still developing. Thoughts of emergency first aid and “what if” raced through my mind until we were safely back on the official trail. If there is a way to squelch the mothering instinct, I haven’t found it.

Talapus and Olallie Lakes: How to Enjoy Your Visit

At Talapus Lake we stopped for a short water break and agreed to continue to Olallie Lake first. Then we could backtrack and spend more time anywhere that caught our interest.

I had one momentary fright when I slipped on a wet log. In a split second, I landed on my left forearm, flashing back to my fall in the Fiery Furnace 18 months ago. This time, I practically bounced off the pine needles and hopped back onto my feet, and dusted off the dirt, but not before they both noticed. My daughter raced back to check on me. I assured them both that I was totally fine. But I silently asked myself, is it age? Lack of attention? Terrain challenge? Or could there be a deep core muscle that is no longer engaging properly?

Olallie Lake Wading

After brushing off from my fall, we continued along the west side of Olallie Lake, scoping out campsites for a future backpacking trip. At a nice sunny vacant spot, we stopped to have lunch and clean away the rest of the dirt. Beautiful tiny butterflies flitted around our packs. They were so light I couldn’t even feel the one that perched on my hand.

Olallie Lake Basin Area Map.
Olallie Lake Basin Area Map.
A frog near Olallie Lake's shore, enjoying the day.
A frog near Olallie Lake’s shore, enjoying the day.

When I invited them to go in the water, Ajax stayed on shore. He can swim but only if someone carries him in and lets go. We decided he should stay dry.

The view south from one of the northern campsites. We backtracked to get closer to the water.
The view south from one of the northern campsites. We backtracked to get closer to the water.
Our lunch spot.
Our lunch spot.

The water is, as you’d expect, cold. But also delightfully refreshing. When I spotted a frog, my daughter grabbed her camera to take some photos. An item that would have been useful: a towel. I never bring one for day hikes, but for an overnight near a lake, it would come in handy. Since we still had a second lake to explore, we dried off our feet and headed back toward the log jam at Talapus Lake roughly 1.5 miles away.

Talapus Lake Log Jam

Olallie has a decent wading area with a sandy bottom. Talapus Lake has floating logs. Brooke and Zach both wanted to test their balancing skills. When they asked how much time we had (they wanted to take their shoes off there, as well) I said we could stay longer if they’d entertain me in traffic on the way home. While they hurled sticks into the lake, I found a spot next to Ajax to write in my journal.

Talapus and Olallie Lakes: How to Enjoy Your Visit
Exploring the log jam at the southern end of Talapus Lake.

The choice to linger meant adding time in the car on the drive home. The closer we got to rush hour, the more time I guessed we’d spend stuck in road construction between exits 24 and 18 westbound on Interstate 90. But because we expected it, we entertained ourselves on the drive by playing The Alphabet Game and looking for interesting license plates and bumper stickers.

The Alpine Lakes wilderness is full of fascinating trees. This "seat" was perfect for Brooke and Ajax.
The Alpine Lakes wilderness is full of fascinating trees. This “seat” was perfect for Brooke and Ajax.
Ajax spotted several bold chipmunks. He didn't give chase but the drool showed he wanted to.
Ajax spotted several bold chipmunks. He didn’t give chase but the drool showed he wanted to.

Choosing Between Talapus and Olallie Lakes

The best things about these two lakes are they’re close enough to visit both on the same hike. If you park at the Pratt Lake trailhead, you’ll reach Olallie first. Both are worth seeing. As to which is better, I didn’t raise that question. Frogs or logs? Which do you prefer?

Tree planter near the trailhead. Young kids will enjoy the diversity of tree shapes on this trail.
Tree planter near the trailhead. Young kids will enjoy the diversity of tree shapes on this trail.

How to Enjoy Rain on a Hike to Wallace Falls

On Father’s Day, my husband, our daughter, a friend from Arizona, and Ajax joined me for a hike to Wallace Falls. Mother Nature supplied plenty of rain, mist, and sun breaks along with plenty of puddles. The result? One very muddy dog. Fortunately, the hail waited until the long stop-and-go drive home. As a fair-weather hiker, I’ve recently come to enjoy rain because it provides cooler weather, a lower risk of sunburn, great photo opportunities (clouds make for interesting light), and fewer people. All contributed to a unique experience.

Wallace Falls is spectacular this time of year. It reminded me of being in a rainforest. Mist rebounds from the cascade, filling the valley. Or is that rain?
Wallace Falls is spectacular this time of year. It reminded me of being in a rainforest. Mist rebounds from the cascade, filling the valley. Or is that rain?

Uh-oh!

The last time Ajax and I visited this park was on a hike to Wallace Lake two years ago (see my blog post from August 2021). This year, a sign outside the parking lot declared it to be full, but we soon realized that was probably the case for a crowded and sunnier afternoon the day before. We quickly found a suitable parking spot in the half-full lot and traded sneakers for boots.

Missing Boots

Except somehow, my daughter’s boots never made it into my husband’s car. I had a second, older pair in my car, but she doesn’t wear my size. Would we have to turn right around and go home without taking a step?

Fortunately, my daughter and husband wear the same size. He offered to hike in his sneakers so she could wear his boots. The lightweight slip-ons she wore on the drive never would have held up to a mile of mud, much less six. Crisis averted, we locked the car and headed up the trail at 9 a.m.

Group photo of me, Zach, Ajax, and Brooke at the start of the Woody Trail, our route to Wallace Falls.
Group photo of me, Zach, Ajax, and Brooke at the start of the Woody Trail, our route to Wallace Falls.

No Raincoat

Our guest, Zach, and his parents were my hiking partners for the wonderful learning experience on Mt. Wrightson in Arizona. I knew he would be fine on whatever hike we chose. But he’s used to Arizona sun and heat. They don’t have many waterfalls or lakes. The thought of bringing a raincoat never crossed his mind.

No boots for one; no raincoat for another. In typical motherly fashion, I ruminated about how my daughter was doing up at the front of our group in her borrowed footwear. Did our guest have enough snacks and warm clothing? Was my husband actually enjoying his Father’s Day in the rain, or merely tolerating it? Surely we’d faced the worst.

Baby Grouse Chicks

I was wrong.

To avoid being pulled into muddy puddles, I let Ajax off-leash. He’s usually very good with voice commands. Unless he spots a mother grouse with baby chicks.

Majestic Ajax in his muddy harness. This was taken off the beaten trail, where we could access Wallace River before it plunges over the falls.
Majestic Ajax in his muddy harness. This was taken off the beaten trail, where we could access Wallace River before it plunges over the falls.

Strike three. Fortunately, I believe the baby grouse will survive. But we revoked Ajax’s off-leash privileges for the rest of the day.

Let Nature Be Your Teacher

As we ducked into the forest, we traded the annoying buzz of power lines for the refreshing sounds of cascading water. Ajax and I paused to capture a photo of the William Wordsworth quote that greets guests to the solace and beauty of the park.

Ajax seems to enjoy rain. Here he stands in a puddle at the base of the sign. He got two baths after the hike, a cold one at the trailhead and a warm one at home.
Ajax seems to enjoy rain. Here he stands in a puddle at the base of the sign. He got two baths after the hike, a cold one at the trailhead and a warm one at home.

On the rainy hike, my husband and Zach traded stories and questions until we paused at the picnic shelter for our first snack break: kibble for Ajax, homemade cookies for the kids, and ground beef for my husband. I chose to visit the vantage point for the lower falls. The volume of water flowing this time of year is truly mind-boggling.

Zach later admitted that his experience at Wallace Falls was “otherworldly.” Hiking in mud and rain must have felt as different for him as hiking in the arid Arizona April heat had been for me. Nature is an awesome teacher, if we’ll only pay attention to her lessons.

The author at Lower Falls.
The author at Lower Falls.
Brooke and Zach shoot photos of Lower Falls.
Brooke and Zach shoot photos of Lower Falls.

Enjoy Rain Mixed with Sun

People often joke about Pacific Northwest weather: if you don’t like it, wait a few minutes. We felt the air around us warm as we hiked higher and tried to figure out why that was. My guess is the clouds were growing thinner, which meant more of the sun’s strength could reach Earth. We paused at each vantage point for photos, continuing all the way to the bridge that crosses Wallace River where we spent time gazing at the rushing torrent beneath us and exploring off-trail down to the river.

On our return to the Upper Falls after exploring the bridge at the top, we got rewarded briefly by a visit from the sun.

The bridge at the very top of Wallace River. Note the very wet wood.
The bridge at the very top of Wallace River. Note the very wet wood.

Now, we can look back at our experience and laugh about those things we forgot and about our soggy doggy. (I offered to sit next to Ajax so our guest could sit in the front.) Trips are made far more memorable whenever obstacles are thrown in our path.

We’ve also rediscovered that the westbound single-lane highway east of Everett is a headache to travel on weekends. It was true three years ago. Maybe even more so now.

However, we salvaged the drive home with a Word Chain game in which we chose a category (geography) and round-robin fashion, had a person name a geographic feature and the next person come up with something starting with the letter the previous person ended with. And did I mention hail?

Enjoy rain but hope for the sun. It made a brief entrance shortly before noon.
Enjoy rain but hope for the sun. It made a brief entrance shortly before noon.

Enjoy Rain: Takeaways

The Mountaineers organization recommends that every hiker carry the Ten Essentials (or the updated “ten essential systems“) on the trail. These include extra food and water, a First Aid kit, extra clothing, and a map and compass for navigation.

It’s one thing to think you have it and another to have it. One strategy to use to avoid our mistake is to check with all party members ahead of time to be sure they actually brought what they need so that you avoid a painful surprise at the trailhead.

And we’re going to keep hiking in the rain in the summer. With the right gear, it provides a pleasant experience and interesting lighting. What “close calls” have you had in the mountains and what creative ways did you handle it? Please share in the comments so we can all benefit and learn.

How to Coax New Hikers at Annette Lake

Now that my daughter and I have joined forces to hike together this summer, I have adjusted our process. How many rests do we need? How long should each rest be so it restores us without leaving either of us cold? What is the best way to keep younger hikers interested and occupied? For that matter, when older hikers grow tired, can we coax more mileage from them? How much mileage and gain is too much? Since last Thursday’s visit to Annette Lake, I compiled a list of tips to coach and coax new hikers forward.

One way to coax new hikers is to stop to take frequent photo breaks. These beautiful falls are easily accessible, only .2 miles from the Annette Lake parking lot.
One way to coax new hikers is to stop to take frequent photo breaks. These beautiful falls are easily accessible, only .2 miles from the Annette Lake parking lot.

Coax New Hikers by Giving Them a Choice

Regardless of age, hikers will likely have more success on their outings if they are involved in choosing (and getting excited about) a destination. Before each hike, I ask my daughter what she’s interested in seeing. We use the WTA hikes finder to locate suitable hikes that include lakes.

From her baseline hike to Teneriffe Falls, we also have a better understanding of what elevation gain and mileage will be comfortable for her. We compiled a list of appropriate hikes from which she can choose based on the weather and how she feels on any given day.

Stunning trillium kissed by water droplets.
Stunning trillium kissed by water droplets.

Hikes Under 8 Miles and Less Than 2000′ Elevation Gain

Here’s our shortlist (in alphabetical order) of Pacific Northwest hikes east of Seattle that we plan to visit this summer. All are between 5 and 8 miles and involve 1000′ to 2000′ elevation gain.

Trail maintenance crews did a lot of work on the Annette Lake trail in 2022. They installed 288 steps (by my count) including a series of "crib ladders" such as these to improve footing.
Trail maintenance crews did a lot of work on the Annette Lake trail in 2022. They installed 288 steps (by my count) including a series of “crib ladders” such as these to improve footing.

Take Frequent Breaks

Another way to coax newer hikers forward is to plan frequent breaks. From our first hike together (as well as from decades of experience) I know that taking a short clothing and water break about 15-20 minutes into the hike allows an assessment of how everyone feels. With young kids that may be more like every 10 minutes.

Our modified plan is to check in with each other every 20-30 minutes. Sometimes when I’m alone with Ajax, I’ll go a whole hour before taking a water break.

My UW Husky student and I pose for a selfie in front of the lower falls.
My UW Husky student and I pose for a selfie in front of the lower falls.

No Regrets

After what felt like the umpteenth switchback, I could tell my daughter was getting tired. It was chilly and damp, and she had less oomph than she did on our previous hike to Teneriffe Falls. I used the phrase, “Just a little farther!” one too many times, and she ground to a halt. I figured that 52 minutes was close enough to an hour to merit a longer rest.

At that point, my daughter asked if I regretted inviting her to join me. I was shocked. “Absolutely not!” I replied. Her question reminded me that there’s more to communication than words. Could I be sending out vibes she’d misinterpreted? I joined her on the log. While I may long for the carefree pace I set whenever I go alone, I can do that anytime. But hiking with her is a rare gift that I wouldn’t trade for anything.

Vanilla Leaf.
Vanilla Leaf.

Demonstrate Proper Pacing

A mistake new hikers sometimes make is starting from the cars too hard or too fast, resulting in early fatigue. Just like any warmup to a workout, try suggesting easing into the hike for the first half mile. This allows the muscles, tendons, ligaments, and joints plenty of warm-up time before sustained exertion. Then, after removing a layer of clothing, you can settle into your “go forever” pace.

My daughter has demonstrated that she does not like to be the last member in a hike. If she can’t be part of a “kid sandwich” (i.e. adult – child – adult) then she would rather be out front. My goal in upcoming hikes will be to try to teach her suitable pacing (e.g. no sprint/stop allowed) without requiring that she walk behind me. Maybe we can find hikes with wide trails.

On a rainy midweek morning with low traffic, we feel confident letting Ajax off-leash and relying on voice command. Maybe in this case she still feels a sense of a "kid sandwich" with Ajax in the lead and me taking up the rear.
On a rainy midweek morning with low traffic, we feel confident letting Ajax off-leash and relying on voice command. Maybe in this case she still feels a sense of a “kid sandwich” with Ajax in the lead and me taking up the rear.

Coax New Hikers by Providing Suitable Rewards

As we learned two summers ago on a trip to Mt. Catherine, when the huckleberries and blueberries were ripe and abundant, having some sort of reward can go a long way toward motivating a newer hiker. The promise of reaching snow in June was a big lure.

Suitcase doggie! My daughter and Ajax pose on a snow patch that persists into early summer. One way to coax new hikers is to promise something they'll enjoy. Snow, lakes, and an uncommon treat work for my daughter.
Suitcase doggie! My daughter and Ajax pose on a snow patch that persists into early summer. One way to coax new hikers is to promise something they’ll enjoy. Snow, lakes, and an uncommon treat work for my daughter.

When our daughter was young, it was the promise of ice cream afterward. On this trip, I brought out crisp snap pea chips. We spent half an hour at the lake before we both got a little cold.

As soon as the activity itself becomes a reward, you know you’ve got a hiker for life. The fact that we have our next two outings lined up means that all those outings years ago with the Mountaineers Family Activities group have created strong roots. I couldn’t be happier. If you have tips for coaching or coaxing the newer hiker, please share them in the comments so we can all learn from each other.

Selfie at the lake. What's not to love?
Selfie at the lake. What’s not to love?

Look for Good at Teneriffe Falls

A reader recently asked for tips on dealing with loss and disappointment. The permits for a trip she had been planning for six months got canceled, making it difficult to maintain enthusiasm for her trip. Loss comes in all shapes and sizes. It includes injury, illness, change in plans, loss of livelihood, loss of youthfulness, and even death. After nearly two years of exploring change, the best suggestion I can make is to look for good to come out of the loss.

Look for good. Instead of complaining about the rain, we celebrated the fact that the rain meant fewer people on a weekend hike and beautiful photographs like this one.
Look for good. Instead of complaining about the rain, we celebrated the fact that the rain meant fewer people on a weekend hike and beautiful photographs like this one.

Weekend Hike to Teneriffe Falls

Last Saturday my daughter, Ajax, and I headed to Teneriffe Falls (6 miles, 1600′ gain) at Exit 32 on I-90. The drive has never passed so quickly. I usually listen to an e-book. Instead, we chatted easily about her coursework, the upcoming hike, her friends, and my clients.

When we started hiking around 8:30, the parking lot was about a third full. A trail maintenance crew was preparing for a day of work. Several Portapotties stood near locked latrines. And a large flat rock held numerous poop bags, indicating recent high canine traffic. Expect lots of people. It’s a Saturday in June.

Ajax and my daughter begin the steep switchbacks toward the Falls.
Ajax and my daughter begin the steep switchbacks toward the Falls.

I’ve been so conditioned to go at dawn on weekdays to less frequented trails, that I have forgotten what it’s like to hike with hordes of people. (side note: If you seek solitude, avoid Rattlesnake Ledge on a summer weekend.) When my daughter pointed out bleeding hearts, banana slugs, and nurse logs, my heart swelled with pride. She still remembers much of what we taught her during her childhood hikes.

Loss or Gain?

Over the past year, I have explored what it’s like to move forward with an “empty nest.” Sort of. My daughter attends a local university and often comes home for a few days. We’ve adjusted to weekdays without her, and weekends with her. Now that she is home for the summer, we’re adjusting again. The biggest change: she wants to join me hiking.

How could this ever be perceived as a loss? You can view any change as having loss and gain. For instance, hiking with another person means a loss of freedom to go at my own pace. To leave the house when I want. Hiking on the weekends also brings a loss of solitude on the trail and a loss of time due to higher traffic in the city.

We dubbed this the "mystical corridor" with its pine needles, fog, and empty space. The rain kept the weekend crowds to a minimum except at the Falls where a large group of rowdy students celebrated their recent graduation.
We dubbed this the “mystical corridor” with its pine needles, fog, and empty space. The rain kept the weekend crowds to a minimum except at the Falls where a large group of rowdy students celebrated their recent graduation.

But it also brings plenty of good. Wonderful conversations with another person. New perspectives. Varied pace. Exploration and adventure of a different kind. Moments of pride when you realize your daughter has absorbed all sorts of lessons from childhood. It depends entirely on how you frame it.

Ask yourself: are you a “glass half full” or “glass half empty” person? What if you tried to look at your loss through a lens of self-compassion and kindness, or tried to view your experience as a new learning opportunity?

Look for Good: Problem as Learning Opportunity

When my daughter insisted on a third break on the ascent, she needed to check her feet. She had hot spots on her heels that threatened to form blisters. I reminded myself of my biggest intention. Make sure she has fun so she agrees to hike again. I channeled the patience my friends showed me on Mt. Wrightson when I experienced heat exhaustion.

The joy on my daughter's face, when we reached the Falls, was worth the three rest stops it took to get there. I thought back to all the hikes we did with her as a youngster. Now that she's an adult, she's come full circle. I couldn't be happier.
The joy on my daughter’s face, when we reached the Falls, was worth the three rest stops it took to get there. I thought back to all the hikes we did with her as a youngster. Now that she’s an adult, she’s come full circle. I couldn’t be happier.

I asked myself, What’s good about this problem?

  • Learning how to lace boots properly and adjust for uphill or downhill
  • Layering socks correctly to prevent wear on the skin
  • Learning to doctor hot spots before they become blisters
  • Making sure to carry Moleskin, duct tape, or Bandaids in a First Aid kit.

Experience is one of the best teachers. I doubt she’ll ever hike again without bringing blister protection.

Near the bottom of the hike, I was relieved to see my daughter was still able to smile. We're off to another hike in the morning. She had a good enough experience (and the blisters were only a minor irritant) that she's willing to go again.
Near the bottom of the hike, I was relieved to see my daughter was still able to smile. We’re off to another hike in the morning. She had a good enough experience (and the blisters were only a minor irritant) that she’s willing to go again.

Look for Good When Losses Are Ubiquitous

Earlier this week it felt like every email I opened pointed to some kind of loss. Lost mobility that led to canceling a trip. Illness meant cutting a trip short. A fall that led to a trip to the ER. A friend reporting death of a friend. Loss of enjoyment due to pain. Loss of awareness while driving. And the death of a former client’s tentmate on Everest. Pain and loss everywhere.

Where’s the good? Two jumped out at me:

  • I have finally learned to hold suffering at a distance and not take other people’s pain on myself. I can remain compassionate and empathetic but not drown in the pain. Win!
  • Maybe I could write a blog about it that might help others find a path through loss.
The author, her daughter, and Ajax enjoy an hour at Teneriffe Falls before hiking down. If you go on a summer weekend, choose a rainy day to cut down on crowds. That will also make the falls more spectacular.
The author, her daughter, and Ajax enjoy an hour at Teneriffe Falls before hiking down. If you go on a summer weekend, choose a rainy day to cut down on crowds. That will also make the falls more spectacular.

Additional Posts on Loss

I’ve written about loss in other blog posts. This list is not exhaustive, but it might point to some interesting reading if you’re relatively new to the blog.

A hike with two of my favorite living creatures on this planet. WIN!
A hike with two of my favorite living creatures on this planet. WIN!

Parting Thoughts

My parting thoughts are about Kelly Clarkson’s blockbuster song, “Stronger.” To paraphrase, what doesn’t kill us builds our RESILIENCE. A hero’s journey is filled with obstacles. We can bury our heads in the sand, smother our pain with food or alcohol, or we can face the pain and go right through it. If we look for what good might come out of it — connecting with others also experiencing the loss, having a different kind of adventure, getting more clarity on our goals and values — we can handle the pain more easily.

If you have recently experienced some sort of loss, please share it so we can all learn from and help each other. You are not alone. And if you have a topic you’d like to explore, please suggest it. A shout out to E. for asking this question, and to my Monday Morning writing partners for a wonderful, lively discussion of the Murky Middle blog post. I learn so much from all of my readers and commenters! Thank you!

Murky Middle: How to Follow Through on Intentions

During the past four rambles with Ajax, I reflected on our progress on our project. Is it still meeting its purpose? Am I experiencing “shiny object syndrome” (i.e. wanting to jump to something else midstream) or just the murky middle that sometimes comes with long-term projects? What are some ways to follow through on intentions?

Ajax explores a driftwood structure at Richmond Beach Saltwater Park.
Ajax explores a driftwood structure at Richmond Beach Saltwater Park.

Pinehurst Pocket Park

Doubt started creeping up on me during the Memorial Day weekend. My daughter was home for three days so I had some free time. I refused to battle holiday crowds in the mountains, so Ajax and I did a local Ramble instead.

We included a stop at Pinehurst Pocket Park, a tiny park covering less than half a city block. But despite visiting six little free libraries, something was missing. I long for solitude, for views, for the freedom to let Ajax roam off-leash. I miss the mountains. What would finishing 52 unique rambles do for me that hiking wouldn’t? Was I ready to change my intentions? Or maybe I was just having an off day. Perhaps my attitude would change when I tried a few more.

A great way for a local homeowner to showcase a sense of humor. Dogs can't read but they sure can smell!
A great way for a local homeowner to showcase a sense of humor. Dogs can’t read but they sure can smell!

View Ridge Playfield

A few days later, I returned my daughter to the UW campus for finals week. On the way back, Ajax and I visited the View Ridge Playfield neighborhood. It brought back memories of summer visits to the kiddie pool when my daughter was a toddler.

We visited three little free libraries on this ramble, including one outside the Sand Point Community United Methodist Church, constructed to resemble the church itself. I marveled at all of the modern architecture in the neighborhood. At the same time, I felt crowded and confined, with people rushing from birthday parties to the library to local coffee and bagel shops.

Sand Point Community Church boasts two neighborhood boxes, one for books and one for food. Both resemble the church.
Sand Point Community Church boasts two neighborhood boxes, one for books and one for food. Both resemble the church.
The view from 70th Ave. NE looking east toward the Cascades. A block west, you can see a similar view of the Olympics.
The view from 70th Ave. NE looking east toward the Cascades. A block west, you can see a similar view of the Olympics.

In a word, hectic. A feeling I escape in the mountains and try to avoid during Rambles. But the farther south I explore (i.e. closer to downtown) the more hectic the pace feels. The yearning for the peaceful solace and rhythm of the mountains grows stronger with each urban ramble, now that more people are getting outside in nice weather. Or perhaps because I was able to see the mountains without being in them.

Haller Lake in the Murky Middle

The following day, our ramble to Haller Lake in north Seattle made me want to give up. Not because of inclement weather.

We strolled clockwise around the small, private lake hoping to find a waterfront path (it doesn’t exist) or at least public access to the lake (there is only one such spot).

Haller Lake from the west. Trying to access this mostly private lake was part of my murky middle. But I can change my approach to find safe, accessible, beautiful, public spaces and continue on my quest. Simple, right?
Haller Lake from the west. Trying to access this mostly private lake was part of my murky middle. But I can change my approach to find safe, accessible, beautiful, public spaces and continue on my quest. Simple, right?

Behind the North Seattle Church, we caught our first glimpse of the lake. Unfortunately, the only access by non-residents is on the west side. So we continued on our way, eager to spot any lingering waterfowl. So far, all we’d heard among the usual suspects were red-winged blackbirds, common inhabitants of wetlands such as Montlake Fill and Magnuson Park.

No Dogs Allowed

But as we strode toward the lake from the west, my heart dropped. A sign proclaimed No dogs allowed on Seattle beaches. A local collecting trash gave us the ol’ stink-eye.

“C’mon, Ajax, it looks like we’re not welcome here,” I said to my docile pup. He dutifully followed without a single growl or bark. I hate feeling unwelcome anywhere, but especially in green spaces touted as accessible to and for all. Apparently not dogs.

My murky middle nearly caused me to give up after 39 rambles. Decorative signs hang on the fencing leading to the public boat ramp at Haller Lake. For all they do to try to welcome people, it's the last thing I felt.
My murky middle nearly caused me to give up after 39 rambles. Decorative signs hang on the fencing leading to the public boat ramp at Haller Lake. For all they do to try to welcome people, it’s the last thing I felt.

“I don’t want to visit any more spaces that make me feel unwanted, unsafe, or uncomfortable,” I thought as we left Haller Lake.

But I had to remind myself, this was different. This was mostly a private access lake. And maybe the lady just had weird eyes. Maybe she wasn’t directing anything toward me. Perhaps the anger I felt was due to a poor, uninformed choice. But anger it was. Not one of the reasons I go on walks with Ajax.

The Desire to Quit Rears Its Ugly Head

So this morning, I told a friend that I was considering stopping my Rambles project. Surprised, she asked why. I mumbled something like, “I miss the mountains. And I miss visiting some of my favorite places where there are no people.” Both are valid reasons.

But they don’t tell the whole true story. I think I was willing to scrap my whole year-long project… in order to avoid shame. Well, eff that. That’s on ME, not anyone else. And now that I know what I was doing, I won’t cave.

Something my friend said reminded me to review my big why: this project was a way to explore mindfulness, learn to be more fully present, and experience joy in tiny moments. Haller Lake may not have been joyful but many of the others have been.

Review Your Intentions

Once she left, I reread what I hoped to get out of this year. June seems to be as good a time as any to reflect on intentions set at the start of the year.

  • Appreciate beauty
  • Connect deeply
  • Move frequently
  • Create abundantly
  • Improve lovingly
  • Challenge gently
Appreciate beauty, large and small alike.
Appreciate beauty, large and small alike.

I realized that I’d slipped on my why. And the two that need more work are “appreciate beauty” and “improve lovingly.” I have been trying to strongarm myself into going to places within walking distance of home — that may be aesthetically unappealing or worse, downright unsafe.

But what if I gave myself permission — challenged myself gently — to access green spaces beyond walking distance for my final twelve Rambles? What’s stopping me from driving to new green spaces like I do hikes?

Richmond Beach Saltwater Park

So, with renewed interest in our project (just in time for Ramble 40!), I drove to Richmond Beach Saltwater Park for a walk-and-talk with a writing friend. Connection. Check. I expected great views of the Olympics. Saltwater birds. And with any luck, no crowds.

This morning, the only people enjoying the park were dog walkers (like us) and stair climbers (also like us.) Movement. Check. We headed along the top promenade for an overlook of the park and ended up at a gorgeous Madrone tree – I think, based on the peeling bark. Beauty. Check.

Active Ajax Adventures are a great way to explore the area and get outside my comfort zone. A hiking friend convinced me to keep going and get twelve more Rambles.
Active Ajax Adventures are a great way to explore the area and get outside my comfort zone. A hiking friend convinced me to keep going and get twelve more Rambles.

My writing friend gave me several big hugs and encouraged me to continue with our quest. Twelve to go.

Takeaways: Surviving the Murky Middle

Whatever goal you are pursuing, at some point you may think, “Do I still want this? Does it matter? How can I stay interested and engaged through the finish line?” I offer some final thoughts about what might help.

Murky Middle: How to Follow Through on Intentions
A little free library near the InterUrban in Shoreline. It perked me up after the mood sink of Haller Lake and gave me a glimpse of hope that maybe I could refine our project.

New Perspective

  • Before you completely give up on any intention, give it a day or a week to let yourself think about it. You may be having a tough day. Things might look better with a little distance from your intention.
  • Review the initial reasons why you embarked on this journey in the first place. Perhaps (like it did for me) something has slipped and a reminder will jump-start you.
  • Discuss your decision-making process with someone who understands your struggle. They might have a fresh opinion that can help you see it in a different way.
Murky Middle: How to Follow Through on Intentions
Despite enjoying my rambles with Ajax, my experience with Haller Lake almost made me give up on the project. The simple solution: a reminder that it’s OK to drive to green spaces now that I’ve exhausted everything within walking distance of home! Win!

Tweak Your Intentions

  • Can you tweak your intention (i.e. nudge the notch) to make it a little more compelling? For me, reminding myself that it’s okay to drive to mid-distance green spaces opens up a ton of areas to explore. Not only will I still save on gas and driving time, but the choices just got a lot more interesting.
  • Imagine two outcomes: completing and not completing your intention. What will each look and feel like? Will you have any regrets about your decision? What does completing (or not) your intention say about you? What good might come from completing it, even if you feel like you’re struggling? And if it’s no longer right, be comfortable walking away without shame or guilt.
  • Finally, if you have been working on an intention alone, find a buddy or accountability partner. They help!

If you are struggling to follow through on an intention, don’t give up! Share your dilemma in the comments so we can support each other.