Expect the Unexpected: How to Embrace the Journey

My most recent hikes to Tiger and Cougar Mountains, and Rainbow, Island, and Olallie Lakes have paralleled my discoveries as I prepare for my July 22 NBHWC Board exam. Each hike has reminded me to embrace the journey, not just the destination, and to expect the unexpected.

Mt. Rainier as seen from the clearing on West Tiger 1 on June 21.
Mt. Rainier as seen from the clearing on West Tiger 1 on June 21.

At 8 a.m. on the summer solstice, Ajax, a friend, and I headed up the High Point Trail on Tiger Mountain. I’d never explored this particular trail before and was delighted with the shady meanderings. After about an hour, my friend announced she’d had enough, so Ajax and I escorted her back along the twisting path.

Just minutes below Ruth’s Cove, I saw a huge brown mass in the middle of the trail. Bear! It took one look at us and scampered into the woods, headed uphill. After that, we called “Hey bear!” back to the powerlines a quarter mile from the car, where we parted ways. No matter how many times I hike, I never plan on seeing bears. I’m coming to expect the unexpected.

Our hiking partner at Ruth's Cove on the TMT. Soon after this spot, she felt like she'd had enough so we hiked back partway with her.
Our hiking partner at Ruth’s Cove on the TMT. Soon after this spot, she felt like she’d had enough so we hiked back partway with her.

Undaunted, Ajax and I continued back the way we’d just descended. No, I don’t have a death wish. And no, I don’t hike with bear spray or bear bells, having heard from rangers that bears are more attracted to the tinny inanimate sounds (do they think they’re birds?) than to people’s voices. I made sure I had a trekking pole out to make us look bigger if necessary

I frequently call out, “Hello bear, we mean no harm,” or something similar whenever I anticipate we may have company (Mt. Defiance and Granite Peak come to mind). Black bears are searching for food, after all, and as long as you leave them alone, they’ll leave you alone. Unless a mama has cubs.

Expect the unexpected. A single black bear on W. Tiger 1 just below Ruth's Cove. I didn't linger to get my big lens so the quality is shady/cell through ferns.
Expect the unexpected. A single black bear on W. Tiger 1 just below Ruth’s Cove. I didn’t linger to get my big lens so the quality is shady/cell through ferns.

When we approached Ruth’s Cove, I heard crackling branches. Something big rustled in the woods. This time I expected the unexpected. I started my vocal alerts so he’d know where we were. As we turned a corner, Ajax froze on point.

There in the woods, maybe 30 yards off, sat what I guessed was the same bear, eating. I called “Hey bear, have a nice breakfast,” and snapped a very quick photo before we continued steadily to Ruth’s Cove and beyond. Rule number two with bears, NEVER run. They think you’re prey.

Instead of giving up on the day’s adventure, I used my experience and knowledge about wildlife to continue on the hiking trail I set out to explore. The bear and the new-to-us trail added an unexpected dimension of excitement, exploration, and challenge on an otherwise straightforward trail.

Spot the elephant! I love looking for hidden treasures in the foliage.
Spot the elephant! I love looking for hidden treasures in the foliage.

Likewise, as I studied for my exam, I discovered additional materials to review. While some might look at the added time and challenge with concern, or “How am I ever going to get through all of this?” the new information has provided rich nuances and subtleties I can use right now in my coaching practice. Win!

One in particular is called the “magic wand” exercise. Recently, a client expressed her wish for a juicy, colorful, crunchy, and delicious salad prepared by a professional chef. I asked her what one step in that direction might be. She decided to try a colorful vegetable or fruit in each salad until she discovered new favorite ingredients to put together for flavor and texture. Finding a treasure — a new tool — in the additional material reminded me again to expect the unexpected.

The intended route was exploring the northernmost trails in Cougar, from Big Tree (west) to Wilderness (East.) Instead, we explored the west part of the park, north to south and back again.
The intended route was exploring the northernmost trails in Cougar, from Big Tree (west) to Wilderness (East.) Instead, we explored the west part of the park, north to south and back again.

Five days later, Ajax and I met a pair of friends on Cougar Mountain. We hiked up the Big Tree Ridge trail, spotting a coyote on the way to the Harvey Manning Trailhead, their turnaround point. If you haven’t guessed by now, I adore spotting wildlife.

When my friends returned to their cars for work, Ajax and I continued our exploration. My intention: find the connector trails to Wilderness Peak so we could explore the northern part of the park. I found a traverse map online and thought it was feasible.

There's still water flowing down Coal Creek Falls. But for how long?
There’s still water flowing down Coal Creek Falls. But for how long?

Once we reached Fred’s Railroad Trail, however, a new-to-me waterfall beckoned. We turned right rather than continuing left toward Shy Bear Pass. This allowed us to visit Coal Creek Falls en route to the Red Town Trailhead, which just reopened in June 2024 and which I’d never been to before.

Our ten-mile ramble included 24 bird species and visits to four trailheads. I gained a greater appreciation for the coal mining that occurred years ago within the park. The Cave Holes on the map indicated collapsed mines. Just when I’d forgotten to expect the unexpected, we spotted a deer near Clay Pit Road.

During this second hike, I gained an appreciation for exploring new-to-me trails branching off of familiar trails. This works well on Cougar, Tiger, Si/Little Si, and Squak, areas that all have a vast network of intersecting trails.

The view toward West Tiger 2 and 3 shows the deforestation effects from a few summers ago.
The view toward West Tiger 2 and 3 shows the deforestation effects from a few summers ago.

As I plow through my study materials, I appreciate the interweaving of change theories I’m mastering, including the Transtheoretical Model (TTM) of change, Motivational Interviewing, Positive Psychology, and Nonviolent Communication (NVC). The past four months have helped me integrate the material into my coaching toolkit.

Where I am starting to expect the unexpected is to look for parallels and similarities between life and hiking. The mental intersections feel as solid as the labyrinthian trails on Cougar Mountain, with clues as to when and how to explore them depending on the situation.

Mt. Rainier peeks above a sea of clouds filling the valley just below Olallie Lake on the Pratt Lake trail.
Mt. Rainier peeks above a sea of clouds filling the valley just below Olallie Lake on the Pratt Lake trail.

On July 2 Ajax and I visited Rainbow, Island, and Olallie Lakes at Exit 47. I wanted to beat the heat anticipated over the long July 4th weekend. Ajax and I hiked above the clouds on a beautiful morning and didn’t see a soul until we were headed down.

Of the three outings featured in this blog, this was the only day that we succeeded in reaching our intended destinations. We’d tried several times before (twice in March, Changing Seasons March 2024, Celebrate Milestones March 2024, and again on May 9) but turned back because of snow. My WTA trip report encapsulates our experience.

Ajax gazes out over Rainbow Lake on July 2. This was one of three lakes we visited on a summer-changing hike.
Ajax gazes out over Rainbow Lake on July 2. This was one of three lakes we visited on a summer-changing hike.

I never could have expected the unexpected this time. Despite giving Ajax a good 30-minute rest at Island Lake, when I packed up to head back, he refused to follow. My stomach dropped. Did he know something I didn’t? Could I carry him to the car if I had to? When the bugs threatened to eat me alive, I attached his leash and gently guided him out.

At times I grabbed his suitcase harness to support him out of the basin. Would he fit in my pack? How might I create a makeshift sling? Would there be any people who could help me if he refused to continue?

Pristine and frigid Island Lake with snow patches still evident across the lake. We spent 30 minutes here - dunking my feet - but Ajax didn't want to move. Did he know something I didn't? or was he just tired? I couldn't take the bugs. We had to leave.
Pristine and frigid Island Lake with snow patches still evident across the lake. We spent 30 minutes here – dunking my feet – but Ajax didn’t want to move. Did he know something I didn’t? or was he just tired? I couldn’t take the bugs. We had to leave.

Fortunately, as we descended from Pratt-Island junction, he seemed to improve; he even turned toward Olallie Lake to add a few more miles to our hike. Reaching three lakes was the original goal. But now I realize my overarching goal is way more important: having a healthy, unconditionally loving pet for as long as possible. Hikes or not. He comes first.

By the time we got home, Ajax seemed to have trouble with his right front leg. Was it arthritis? Soreness? A thorn? He’s done 10-12 miles with me this year, so I know he’s capable of the mileage. The heat wasn’t an issue; we were in the shade and on the trail early. I made sure to provide plenty of food and water.

I did everything right. So what was he experiencing? Did he just have an off day? Or is this an indication of what’s to come? If I risk taking him with me in the future, what do I do if he refuses to walk out?

The bridge crossing heading into Olallie Lake Basin on our return.
The bridge crossing heading into Olallie Lake Basin on our return.

Those thoughts turned to thinking about my upcoming exam. What do I do if I don’t pass? Have I put all my eggs in one proverbial basket, both for our hikes and for my coaching future? It dawned on me that I was asking the wrong questions.

The question I should be asking instead is: How can I expect the unexpected and grow from the side trips?

If a pilot is off course a significant percentage of the time but still reaches the destination through course correction, perhaps it’s time to focus on what benefits our detours provide us.

After another 15-minute rest at Olallie Lake, Ajax seemed ready for the final 75 minutes to the car.
After another 15-minute rest at Olallie Lake, Ajax seemed ready for the final 75 minutes to the car.

For three years, I have written about our many adventures together as I explore change. I rely on Ajax for companionship and humor. There will come a time not too far away when I have to let him go. I’m not ready to face one of the biggest, inevitable, and worst changes of all: the loss of my best canine buddy and hiking partner.

But now is not the time for grief. Now is the time to appreciate the side trips and detours, embrace all the wonderful events of today, and enjoy the parallel journeys of studying and exploring whatever trails we can visit. I’m not giving up — not on the test, not on my hiking partner. He’s proven how resilient he is, and I will prove how resilient I am. No matter what comes next.

Stage of Change: How to Journey from Resistance to Growth

En route to the NBC-HWC credential exam in July, I continue to hike weekly to provide massive self-care as I digest copious amounts of study material. During the past three weeks, I’ve examined the Transtheoretical Model of Change (TTM) and how it relates to my recent activities. They include hikes to the ridge above Thompson Lake, Annette Lake, Teneriffe Falls, and an archery experience at The Nock Point for Father’s Day. The big takeaway is identifying what stage of change someone is in to help them move from resistance to growth.

My little trooper Ajax, a constant on my hikes to Annette Lake and Thompson Lake Ridge.
My little trooper Ajax, a constant on my hikes to Annette Lake and Thompson Lake Ridge.

The first stage of change in the Transtheoretical Model (TTM) is Pre-contemplation. In this stage, people may not even be aware they need to change. Often accompanied in this stage of change are the phrases, “I can’t…” or “I won’t…” Someone caught in a toxic job situation, for example, may find real excuses for why they can’t leave it right now, usually involving fear of letting people down or surviving without a paycheck.

Perhaps now is a horrible time to give up alcohol, chocolate, or smoking because of excessive stress. Or it’s way too hard to think about exercising because of the recent losses of friends, a pet, or close family members. The best way to converse with people using “I can’t” or “I won’t” is to provide compassion and support. No amount of cajoling will make them change until they’re ready to use a different language.

Stage of Change: How to Journey from Resistance to Growth

I recently experienced “I can’t” on June 6 when Ajax and explored Granite Creek on the way to Granite Lakes. We came across 36 rivulet crossings, but the only one that turned us around was the raging creek above which proved to be too much for Ajax. Discouraged, I knew we couldn’t reach Granite Lakes safely.

A quarter mile behind us was a junction for Thompson Lake. Knowing nothing about the side trail, but aware that we had an hour until my turn-around time, I turned “We can’t” on its ear with, “Let’s explore another option.” After 40 more minutes, we stopped for a short snack deep in the woods. When I headed back the way we came, Ajax refused to follow, just like he had on our previous trip to McClellan Butte.

What did he know that I didn’t? Relenting, we continued for nine more minutes — reaching the ridge between Thompson Lake basin on one side and Granite Lakes on the other. My mood soared. We couldn’t reach a lake that day, but we’d found another way to reach our own “peak” and identify two more hikes for later this summer. I took it as a win, reframing the failure to reach a lake as a successful and fun outing nonetheless.

Beautiful raging Granite Creek provides wonderful background noise for hiking. The only negative is it makes it harder to hear birds.
Beautiful raging Granite Creek provides wonderful background noise for hiking. The only negative is it makes it harder to hear birds.

If you find yourself in the “I can’t” stage, some possible strategies to use to move forward include the following: 1. Reframe your behavior by talking with others about it. 2. Analyze yourself and your actions. 3. Assess any short-term or long-term risks of your current behaviors. Then ask yourself two crazy questions: What’s GOOD about changing, and what’s BAD about staying the same? These answers may help you shift to the second stage of change.

The second stage is Contemplation. In this stage, people weigh the pros and cons of changing and may still find the negatives outweighing the positives. Often accompanying this stage are the phrases, “I may….”, “I might…” or “I could…” Someone thinking about establishing a consistent hiking program, for example, might come up with possibilities such as, “I could start hiking on Tuesdays.” Another person wanting to eat more vegetables might say, “I could add tomatoes or peppers to my omelets, sandwiches, or salads.”

On Father’s Day, my husband wanted to go to the archery range. My first instinct was to say “I can’t; I’ve never done it before. But I’ll take pictures.” I remembered my commitment to hunt for BLING — including novelty — and changed my thoughts to, “If I try it, I might enjoy it.” It required shifting to a beginner’s mindset and embracing the possibility that I might feel awkward, nervous, and uncomfortable.

So I stepped outside my comfort zone and, sure enough, I got scolded for picking up my bow while the red light was still on. But instead of feeling bad about myself, I reminded myself, “It’s a safety precaution and you’re a total novice. Let yourself learn. You won’t make the same mistake twice.” By the end of the three hours, we’d moved the targets twice and improved our consistency. I am ready to go back and try again.

I may never be an expert markswoman. But with 3 hours of practice, I've moved from the "I can't" stage of change to "I am."
I may never be an expert markswoman. But with 3 hours of practice, I’ve moved from the “I can’t” stage of change to “I am.”

If you find yourself in the “I may” stage of change, some possible strategies for moving forward include writing down the pros on one side and the cons on the other. See if you can find a way to make the pros outweigh the cons. Identify any barriers to change, and examine whether you have the ability and readiness to change.

In the third stage of change, a person is committed to taking action in the foreseeable future. In this “I will” stage, people often start by “trying on” tiny steps, including writing down goals and collecting information.

When I was trying to establish a more consistent hiking practice in January, I contacted several people to see if they would be interested in joining me on Squak Mountain on Tuesdays. Six months later, people are finally taking me up on the offer. I may have been ready then; they’re ready now. I’ll take it!

Stage of Change: How to Journey from Resistance to Growth
Annette Lake with a college teammate, my daughter, and Ajax.
Stage of Change: How to Journey from Resistance to Growth
Teneriffe Falls with a long-time friend on a mostly cloudy Friday afternoon.

The fascinating thing about the TTM is there is no linear progression through change. The hardest part is shifting from pre-contemplation to contemplation. You might be in contemplation for a very long time. Or, overnight, you might have some inspiration — such as a health scare — that rockets you from pre-contemplation into action. It’s also common to be ready, willing, and able to change in one area of your life, but not in another.

Now that my college friend and I have had three successful summers of hiking together (see Olallie Lake, Snow Lake, and Annette Lake) we’ve created a streak that will make it easier to continue next summer. Nothing succeeds quite like success. I know we will find a way to make it happen in the future when she’s back in town.

And now that my daughter is home for the summer, we will find mid-week days to hike. My January goal has become a June reality. “I will” has become “I am.”

Beautiful Annette Lake was one of the earlier hikes my daughter and I did last summer. She had no problems with it this year!
Beautiful Annette Lake was one of the earlier hikes my daughter and I did last summer. She had no problems with it this year!

If you find yourself in the “I will” stage, write down some goals or intentions, from smallest and easiest to biggest and most meaningful. Consider making a collage or visual depiction that represents what you want. Post motivating statements or reminders to yourself — in the car, on the bathroom window, or even the fridge. Develop an action plan that includes a starting date. Collect information about the benefits of making your change, and share your intention with someone.

In the action stage of change, you are taking direct actions to accomplish your goals. While I have been in the maintenance phase of physical activity for decades, for creating a consistent hiking habit, I am in the action phase.

To make this phase more enjoyable (and therefore more likely to maintain year-round), I am actively seeking learning opportunities every time I go out. For my new-to-me Thompson Lake hike, I explored a side trail when I couldn’t reach my goal destination. On the Annette Lake trail, I shot photos of pack goats, something I’ve never seen before. And on our hike to Teneriffe Falls, I went without Ajax on an overcast Friday afternoon.

In over 40 years of hiking, I've never come across domestic goats -- with packs, no less -- hiking on a trail. What fun!
In over 40 years of hiking, I’ve never come across domestic goats — with packs, no less — hiking on a trail. What fun!

If you find yourself taking action, remember to reward yourself with non-food items for every success. Actively seek out social support to maintain your enthusiasm. Keep going!

My stage of change for building a hiking habit is maintenance: I derive so much joy and pleasure from hiking weekly with my dog that I can't see going back to a life without it.
My stage of change for building a hiking habit is maintenance: I derive so much joy and pleasure from hiking weekly with my dog that I can’t see going back to a life without it.

In this stage, I’ve found it wonderfully rewarding to help others experience nature, whether it’s through writing articles for the Mountaineer Magazine, introducing my daughter to new hiking trails, or mentoring novice hikers. I may have other areas of my life where I need to make changes — business expansion and technology are two of them — but as I get familiar with how change works in areas where I’ve succeeded, I learn that I have the tools and knowledge within to make changes in other areas.

If you have found this article helpful, please forward to your friends or consider posting a comment. I love hearing from readers.

How to Evoke Change by Hiking McClellan Butte

Last week I shared how the acronym, DARN CAT, helps me identify change talk. To test whether it helps evoke change that lasts — and grows — I set my sights on hiking McClellan Butte. My reasons included:

  • add to my hiking choices
  • develop change skills that might carry over to other daunting challenges
  • continue my ongoing search for BLING: Beauty, Love, Inspiration, Novelty, and Growth
  • overcome a fear (False Evidence Appearing Real) that this particular trail is not safe enough to do with my dog Ajax
  • use my superpowers in new ways to grow my self-efficacy in other areas

So, early Tuesday morning, May 28, Ajax and I arrived at the McClellan Butte parking lot before anyone else.

How to Evoke Change by Hiking McClellan Butte
If you’ve never hiked the Butte trail before, be aware there are several ways to get to the start. Stay on marked trails and avoid crossing the stream — there are easier ways without getting wet!

Many of my hikes over the past four years have been excursions along the I-90 corridor in Western Washington. Visiting Pratt, Olallie, Island, and Rainbow Lakes this spring while snow still covered the upper trails made them feel new. By nature, I’m relatively cautious. I usually prefer to explore unfamiliar trails with someone who already knows the trail. Visiting a new trail alone — with nobody to consult except my dog — pushes me outside of my comfort zone. In effect, it parallels what I’m trying to do with my coaching career. By adding to my hiking choices and trying something new, I’m hoping to evoke change to face scarier things, like marketing.

On May 28 my dog and I faced drizzle, fog, and snow to evoke change in myself. We had McClellan Butte all to ourselves the entire morning.
On May 28 my dog and I faced drizzle, fog, and snow to evoke change in myself. We had McClellan Butte all to ourselves the entire morning.

YOUR TURN: If you are working on changing in some area, whether from the last blog post or something new, think about your WHY. What will be different if you make this change? How will your life improve? Think of similar changes you’ve made in the past. What helped you succeed? Can you use those same skills to help you?

Since sharing my commitment, I practiced additional steps of change to help ensure success:

  • Free my schedule – by rescheduling my usual Tuesday hike to the following day, I gave us as much time as possible to succeed.
  • Shape the path – I filled the tank with gas and packed extra food and water, tempting treats for Ajax, a sit pad, gaiters, poles, rain and snow gear, and microspikes.
  • Boost enthusiasm — since I love to write and help others succeed in the mountains, I submitted trial trip and Ebird reports to help fuel my excitement
  • Gather information — checking weather reports and recent trip reports (see the one I prepared for the WTA/Washington Trails Association) is something I do before every trip, to arm myself with as much knowledge as possible
  • Prepare navigation — by studying the route, I anticipated paying closer attention at the beginning.
How to Evoke Change by Hiking McClellan Butte
I knew there were several ways to access the trailhead. On the way up, we went through the Alice Creek Campsite at the 1800′ elevation line, taking a slight left detour down to the creek; on the way back, we stayed on the Iron Horse Trail looping back to the trailhead.

YOUR TURN: Think about some of the skills you need to make your change. What obstacles might you encounter? Who do you know who has done what you want to do? Might they have some advice or suggestions to make your journey easier?

One of the acronyms I turn to when I go on adventures (courtesy of my mother) is to look for Beauty, Love, Inspiration, Novelty, and Growth.

We wound through power lines, old forests with enormous cedars and Doug firs, service and forest roads, snowfields, and talus slopes. McClellan Butte trail has some of everything. Even in the fog, I could tell I wanted to return when I could see more of my surroundings.

Joy filled me as 17 species of birds serenaded us, including olive-sided flycatchers, warblers, three types of thrushes, and a sapsucker. Exploration with my dog scouting before me, periodically checking to make sure I’m right behind him, always brings a smile to my face. Fresh cedar perfumed the air near immense logs that must have been cut recently. As we navigated downed logs, tree roots, and snow slopes with confidence and ease, my body thrummed and buzzed with vitality. Nature fills me with life, peace, and love like nothing else.

How to Evoke Change by Hiking McClellan Butte
Recent trail work has removed sections of enormous downed trees that once crossed switchbacks. The trail has been beautifully maintained.

Hiking into the clouds, as fog turned to drizzle, turned the mountains magical, mysterious. To feel confident, competent, and empowered in the mountains feeds my soul and makes me crave more.

The last time I hiked this trail was 25 years ago. I couldn’t remember anything about it, so everything about it felt new. Anytime we evoke change, we face novelty. And if we look at the good that could come from it rather than the scary, it makes novelty feel more engaging and fun.

The vulnerability of hiking solo under challenging conditions grows my confidence, heightens my senses, and makes me more self-aware.

YOUR TURN: As you evoke change, can you use the elements of BLING to make it more intriguing, less scary, and more compelling? What could happen if you reframe your obstacles into positive opportunities? How does that change your resistance?

One of my primary objectives was to rewrite the internal story that I faced higher, maybe unnecessary, risks exploring alone. I told myself that anytime I felt out of my element, we would turn around. If I felt like it was unsafe for me or my dog, there was zero shame in returning another time. Others had reported turning around at the snow. My goal was to see as much of the trail as we could under current conditions.

When facing anything scary, whether going into enclosed spaces, attending a party where you know nobody, entering a gym for the first time, or trying anything new, give yourself an escape hatch. There is nothing wrong with starting something and then deciding not to continue. Once you overcome inertia by taking a small action, you’re most of the way there. If you never try, you’ll never succeed.

How to Evoke Change by Hiking McClellan Butte
At the first snow runnel, I could hear running water undercutting the snow bank. I carefully used my pole to poke for depth and assessed whether the snow would hold my weight.
How to Evoke Change by Hiking McClellan Butte
The snow sections steepened and lengthened as we traversed. Snow travel skills and confident footing are essential. Slush, ice, and dirt mixed, making snowshoes or crampons awkward at best.

When we reached the first of seven snow runnels on the north slope, starting at about mile 2.5, the amount of snowpack surprised me. Ajax easily scampered across, his claws behaving as natural crampons, and I soon realized the footing was solid enough that I didn’t need traction. I did, however, need a pole to test solidity.

At the final runnel, just before the trail veered west, I could no longer hear running water. Ajax shook, drawing my attention. I glanced up to see him retreat from several large tree wells. (I will never take my dog anywhere there might be hidden crevasses). We’d reached our turn-around point.

A tree well forming on the west side of the Butte. As the snow melts, postholing (legs jutting through thin snow) becomes more common and can lead to strains, sprains, and falls.
A tree well formed on the west side of the Butte. As the snow melts, feet can poke through thin snow crusts, a process called postholing, leading to strains, sprains, and falls if you’re not paying attention to where you step.

YOUR TURN: When thinking about your change, what, if anything, are you afraid of? If you had no fear, what might you do? What tiny steps might you take to confront and overcome your fear?

Except… Had we?

I strapped on my microspikes and got out my second pole, preparing to descend. After testing out my footing for a minute, I realized Ajax was still sitting where we’d stopped. Despite calling him, he refused to come, which is unusual. He looked at me as though to say, “No way, Mama, we came all this way. We’re not finished yet!”

How to Evoke Change by Hiking McClellan Butte
Ajax first showed signs of nervousness near these tree wells. I put on microspikes to kick secure steps in the steep slope above the holes, with Ajax close on my heels.

Laughing at his expression, I got an idea. Maybe he was right. Maybe we weren’t done yet. If he was willing to keep trying, I could, too. I used my mountaineering skills to kick steps well above the dangerous zone. Ajax diligently followed in my footsteps, and a few minutes later, we safely jumped off the snow and landed on the dirt trail.

Footprints lead up to a vertical scramble, the summit block of McClellan Butte. I knew, as they climbed straight up that we'd gone as far as I'd intended, and as high as Ajax could safely go.
Footprints lead up to a vertical scramble, the summit block of McClellan Butte. I knew, as they climbed straight up that we’d gone as far as I’d intended, and as high as Ajax could safely go.

The danger behind us, we traveled west on deep snow, then north to the base of the summit block, a vertical scramble and our final destination. I wished my “Energizer dog” a happy ninth birthday and gave him extra treats when, at last, we found a safe, level dirt patch to take a long, foggy, rainy break before retreating to the car.

YOUR TURN: What are your superpowers and how might you get creative using them for this change? If you tried one way and failed, what could you learn from that experience that might make you more successful next time?

Ajax is the best hiking companion I could ever wish for. He never complains, is always willing to try new things, and has incredible stamina for a nine-year-old Labraheeler. On this adventure to evoke change, he helped me see things differently, not once, but twice, when I considered turning around.

A natural bench just before we headed up the long straightaway across talus fields.
A natural bench just before we headed up the long straightaway across talus fields.

As I review our successful experiment, four takeaways relate to the larger picture of how we evoke change:

  • It’s okay to start something multiple times. You will never succeed at anything unless you try.
  • Facing and overcoming tiny fears makes you more courageous and more capable of addressing larger fears next time. It’s a skill as well as a muscle. The more you work it, the stronger you become.
  • There is no shame in stopping or turning around, only in never trying in the first place.
  • If you establish reasonable expectations – exploration, adventure, discovery, BLING – you might enjoy your experience instead of struggling through it.

So have fun, play, explore, and take chances. They are what create our lives. I’m already planning my next solo adventure with my dog. Where will we end up next?

If this post resonates with you, or if you have questions or ideas for future topics, please share in the comments. This blog is for both you AND me. I want to provide content that helps. And writers always love hearing from readers!

DARN CAT: How to Use Change Talk on Recent Hikes

During the past few weeks, Ajax and I have been exploring the trails leading to Rainbow and Island Lake, Pratt Lake Basin, and Dirty Harry’s Peak. On our hikes, I’ve reviewed countless acronyms for my upcoming coaching exam. One that was tricky to learn was DARN CAT, an acronym taken from Miller and Rollnick’s classic book, Motivational Interviewing. As you read this post, see if you can identify change talk within yourself.

Snowy boulder field leading down to Pratt Lake Basin from the Exit 47 trailhead.
Snowy boulder field leading down to Pratt Lake Basin from the Exit 47 trailhead.

How do we know when we truly want to change? In the coaching parlance of Motivational Interviewing, the acronym DARN CAT stands for Desire, Ability, Reason, Need, Commitment, Actuation, and Taking Steps. The first four indicate preparation for change, while the last three represent mobilization or getting started.

Without hearing change talk in a conversation, you might guess that someone is not yet ready, willing, or able to make changes. In other words, they may still be using “sustain talk.” And the most brilliant coaching, convincing, arguing, or strategizing will fail until they are ready. Let’s identify the change talk buzzwords.

Someone seeking change has a desire for something different. This might be a longing for more free time to do something they love, more autonomy at their job, or a body free from pain. It could also be wanting to write a book, learn something new, or leave a painful relationship.

Change talk buzzwords that match such a desire are want, wish, love, or like. Whenever I go hiking, my primary needs are to move, connect with nature, and explore the beauty around me. Back in January, I decided to try to add richness to my hiking practice. As much as I love hiking with my Labraheeler, Ajax, I wanted to include humans on some of my outings.

DARN CAT: How to Use Change Talk on Recent Hikes
Ajax on the Pratt Lake Basin Trail in deep snow, just across the stream that turned us back in March.

JOURNAL PROMPT: Reflect on the different roles you play in your life: parent, sibling, worker, teammate, child, grandchild, outdoor enthusiast. Pick one to focus on for the sake of the following prompts. What is one thing you want to change related to that role? Why?

Another preparation phase of change talk is feeling like you are capable of doing something different. In my example of looking for a hiking partner, I could have met new people by going on several Mountaineers hikes. Or leading a few Meet-up outings. Looking for others seeking partners on social media was another possibility.

Change talk keywords indicating ability include can, could, might, or perhaps. Sure, I could do any of those things listed above. However, I know Mountaineers groups often have 12 participants. As an introvert, I do better in a pair or a small group. I also like to include my dog, and I wasn’t excited about hiking with strangers whose abilities I didn’t know. I chose to use my writing superpower to invite a few people to join me on Tuesdays.

Navigating the icy trail to Pratt Lake Basin required focus, skill, and some luck with Mother Nature. The trail pictured above turned us around 6 weeks earlier when it was completely covered in snow.
Navigating the icy trail to Pratt Lake Basin required focus, skill, and some luck with Mother Nature. The trail pictured above turned us around 6 weeks earlier when it was completely covered in snow.

Just as we harness our abilities to overcome obstacles on the trail, we can tap into our strengths and superpowers to navigate change as we face life’s challenges.

JOURNAL PROMPT: Using the change you’re interested in making from “Desire”, list a few steps you could take that might help you head in the desired direction. Don’t edit yet, just create a list.

If you pay close attention to your thoughts, you might recognize phrases like “I would feel X if I did Y” or “Doing A would give me more energy for B.” Sustain talk might use “Yes, but…” in favor of continuing as is.

I continue to love hiking solo. But my reasons for adding other hikers include: having great philosophical conversations, feeling safer while exploring new trails, and growing my hiking community for the time when my 9-year-old dog may not be able to join me. I also enjoy teaching others what I know about hiking and enjoying the wilderness. Asking yourself WHY is a big part of your journey through any sort of change.

High stream run-off on Dirty Harry's Peak just past the Museum juncture. Stay left and low to find the safest way across.
High stream run-off on Dirty Harry’s Peak just past the Museum juncture. Stay left and low to find the safest way across.

So why attempt Pratt Lake Basin in the early season? My exploration on May 9 was my pre-Mother’s Day gift to myself. I love visiting alpine lakes, especially those accessible from Exit 47. And I wanted to see whether the snow we discovered on our March 28 trip had melted enough to allow access. The snow on the way to Rainbow and Island Lakes was deep and miserably posthole-prone, so I decided to turn us around to explore Pratt Lake.

My reasons for visiting Dirty Harry’s Peak and Balcony on May 14 are different. My daughter turned twenty last week, so this was a celebration of motherhood. The peak hike is steep, one that few people I know would enjoy, which is part of the allure. Hiking it later in the season would be harder on Ajax. I also knew we’d have some great spring birdsong: 27 species including flycatchers, thrushes, and warblers.

Change in nature is expected. Change talk in ourselves sometimes surprises us. Indian Paintbrush on Dirty Harry's Peak. Wildflowers are starting to bloom. Now is a great time to go hiking!
Change in nature is expected. Change talk in ourselves sometimes surprises us. Indian Paintbrush on Dirty Harry’s Peak. Wildflowers are starting to bloom. Now is a great time to go hiking!

JOURNAL PROMPT: Understanding our reasons for change provides us with motivation and direction. Using your possible change, use Precision Nutrition’s sample Five Whys exercise to get at the real reason you want to make a change.

The final preparation stage of change is to identify why you feel obligated to change. Change talk buzzwords include ought to, have to, and the ever-popular and soul-sucking should. Whether these beliefs come from outside of ourselves or inside is a topic for another blog post. But suffice it to say, if we want change, feel we can change, and have reasons and a need for change, then we are much more likely to start into the motivation stages of change.

JOURNAL PROMPT: With your change in mind, think about how your life might be different if you make this change. Then think about your life in a year, five years, ten years if you don’t make this change. This exercise can help you identify a strong need by using your creativity and imagination to picture two futures. Which one is more compelling?

Mt. Rainier as seen from the summit of Dirty Harry's Peak on May 14, 2024. Ajax and I had the mountain to ourselves and plenty of time to think about DARN CAT.
Mt. Rainier from the summit of Dirty Harry’s Peak on May 14, 2024. Ajax and I had the mountain to ourselves and plenty of time to think about DARN CAT.

Following the preparation phase of change one moves into action. Change talk in the commitment phase might use the buzzwords promise, intention, or phrases such as “I am going to.” In this phase, it’s important to focus the change talk on what you want rather than what you don’t want or want to avoid.

Using my example of finding more hiking partners, my commitment to myself and the universe was to show up on Tuesday mornings, rain or shine, and hike with whoever joined me. And while that commitment changes with weather — especially high winds — it has gotten me to do 25 hikes and rambles so far this year.

The author pauses for a selfie and snack about a mile from the summit of Dirty Harry's Peak where there are some lovely logs carved into seats.
The author pauses for a selfie and snack about a mile from the summit of Dirty Harry’s Peak where there are some lovely logs carved into seats.

Once I realized I wanted to include solo hiking and hiking with partners, I changed it to hiking with a partner 1-2 times a month. Realize that your commitment doesn’t mean you’ll do something forever. It’s malleable as you learn more about yourself and grow. If you consider it as binding as a wedding vow or contract, it may feel too intimidating to even start. Instead, think of it as an experiment.

JOURNAL PROMPT: Just as we commit to our exercise or nutrition goals, we need to commit to our personal growth and change. What experiment are you ready to try related to the change you want to make? If it helps, try setting SMART goals that are specific, measurable, action-oriented, realistic, and time-stamped.

Actuation is a fancy word for “move to action” or “activation.” It speaks to your willingness to change. Change talk keywords include “I am ready for…” or “I will start on X day.” In my hiking example, I committed to showing up on Tuesday mornings and hiking with whoever showed up. Then all I needed to do was to pack my things, get my dog in the car, and drive to the designated trailhead.

One tip I find in this stage is to be flexible and ready for anything. When we started our hike toward Island and Rainbow Lake, I didn’t know what the snowpack would look like. I had backup plans to visit Pratt Lake or even return to Olallie Lake if the snow presented too much of an obstacle. The most important thing is to take action. We cannot expect any sort of change without action.

On our hike down from Dirty Harry's Balcony I saw this wonderful view of McClellan Butte through the trees. I've put off trying it for years since I haven't done it since 1990. COMMITMENT: I will hike it this year and report it in my blog.
On our hike down from Dirty Harry’s Balcony I saw this wonderful view of McClellan Butte through the trees. I’ve put off trying it for years since I haven’t done it since 1990. COMMITMENT: I will hike it this year and report it in my blog.

JOURNAL PROMPT: Consider your first few steps toward change. Any journey begins with a single step. Taking that first step towards change is the hardest thing to do because you’re breaking out of a rut and heading into the unknown. And that’s scary. It’s also the beginning of something transformative. Pick one action, just one, and add it to your calendar. It can be as simple as making a phone call or texting your coach to set up an appointment.

Finally, “taking steps” refers to whatever you do to take action. Change talk buzzwords include “I went out and did…” or “Yesterday I chose…” My steps include committing to my blog readers that I will hike McClellan Butte and share my journey in a future blog post.

Here’s what DARN CAT looks like in action:

McClellan Butte, my next hike. I haven't done it in over 30 years, so it will be an exploratory adventure. Join me in June to find out what happens!
McClellan Butte, my next hike. I haven’t done it in over 30 years, so it will be an exploratory adventure. Join me in June to find out what happens!

I’ve identified a desire (to hike McClellan Butte). I know I am capable of hiking it; I did so 35 years ago and I do comparable hikes several times a month. My reasons include adding to my hiking repertoire, getting a new view of the I-90 corridor, and overcoming a fear (false evidence appearing real) that it’s not safe.

As for need, I seek adventure and novelty along with growing my self-efficacy. If I can overcome fears within my superpower arena, I can use that growing muscle in areas that vex me, such as marketing and technology.

Assuming the weather cooperates, I will hike it on Tuesday, May 28, and share it in my first June post. I have added it to my calendar and announced it publicly. Excitement is building, telling me it’s time. I’m ready. The rest is up to fate.

Hard-packed snow near the summit of Dirty Harry's Peak.
Hard-packed snow near the summit of Dirty Harry’s Peak.

JOURNAL PROMPT: Each small step we take on our journey brings us closer to the change we seek. Find one person to share your action with. It could be an accountability partner, your coach, a work colleague, a close friend or family member, or a blog reader. By speaking your intention out loud, you build momentum toward change.

My recent long adventures to Pratt Lake Basin and Dirty Harry’s Peak have prepared me physically for McClellan’s Butte. My review of change talk and DARN CAT have given me the fuel to see that I am ready to make this change, all I needed was to own it and commit to it.

You can embark on a unique journey of change, using the principles of MI’s change talk. What change are you facing? Share on the blog so we can all learn and grow.

How to Notice and Name in Life and in Birding

My husband and I spent a week near South Padre Island, TX witnessing spring migration. Between the two of us, we shot 5000 photos and identified 175 unique bird species. Just as “notice and name” is an important skill in birding, it’s also a crucial life skill when facing change. To change any habits, you need to notice whenever you’re doing a particular action so that you can name what purpose it serves — or decide how to change it.

These blooms in South Texas reminded me of bottle brushes. I laughed when I learned that is what they are called.
These blooms in South Texas reminded me of bottle brushes. I laughed when I learned that is what they are called.

This week, I highlight three of the 35 new life bird species we had the privilege of seeing: the Southern Lapwing, the Mottled Owl, and the Bay-Breasted Warbler. With each story, I share tie-in examples of a life of embracing and accepting change.

On Saturday, April 21, we visited the Llano Grande Resort and Golf Club golf course in Mercedes, TX. We wanted to spot the southern lapwing. Common in South America, they have a black breast, white belly, gray head, and bronzy shoulder. To see a bird in Texas that never strays north of Guatemala would be amazing.

We joined 15-20 other folks with big camera lenses, tripods, and spotting scopes. An employee at the resort’s front desk told us that someone had seen it on the back nine holes. My husband started a phone tree with the other birders in hopes that the first person who found the bird would let everyone else know they’d spotted it. “Team birding” in action.

Southern Lapwing on the fairway. This shorebird is common in South America but had never been seen in North America before.
Southern Lapwing on the fairway. This shorebird is common in South America but has never been seen in North America before.

Several people rented golf carts for $25. My husband and I preferred to walk. Within twenty minutes, his phone lit up with “We found it!” Drivers in two golf carts raced our way. The woman in the first one picked me up and the man in the second one picked up my husband. As we rushed to the fairway, I prayed the lapwing wouldn’t fly off before we could see it.

Then, voila! We shot photos and celebrated with the other six who found it, until WHAACK! A group of tournament players sent their balls down the fairway. One ball rolled to within ten yards of the bird. Startled, it flew off toward a pond.

Determined to keep our eyes on it so that our friend and his daughter, who were still thirty minutes away, would see it, we followed it. Minutes after our friend’s arrival, the bird flew again, this time disappearing from the golf course.

To locate the southern lapwing, we needed help. Others had spotted it days before we did, reporting to Ebird so we knew to look for it. The man in the office knew where the bird liked to hang out. One of the birders was a tour guide with years of experience in the area. And we had twenty additional sets of eyes looking for it.

Likewise, when we are trying to change our habits or behaviors, we benefit from the knowledge and wisdom of people who have made the same change we want to make. We can hire a trainer or coach who knows how to get to the summit of a high mountain or ride in a century. To learn a foreign language we can find a native speaker to practice with. And if a friend gets a cool job, we can ask them how they did it.

A stunning male Baltimore Oriole in breeding plumage. It was one of dozens attracted to orange slices set up in a 4-plot preserve on South Padre Island, an area we referred to as "Sheepshead" after the street's name. The plot was designated and reclaimed for migrating birds.
A stunning male Baltimore Oriole in breeding plumage. It was one of dozens attracted to orange slices set up in a 4-plot preserve on South Padre Island, an area we referred to as “Sheepshead” after the street’s name. The plot was designated and reclaimed for migrating birds.

Coaches, teachers, counselors, and medical professionals all have substantial wisdom and knowledge. But first, we must WANT to change. We must be ready, willing, and able to take action on our behalf, even when it gets hard. Just as my husband and I actively targeted this particular bird, whenever we face change, we notice and name what we no longer want but then figure out what we do want.

Later that same evening, we drove west for more than two hours to join a guided nocturnal tour on the 88,000-acre Santa Margarita Ranch. At 9 p.m. when we started walking in the dark, we sweated in the 88-degree heat and humidity. We caught our second rarity, a mottled owl. This medium-sized owl is found from Mexico to Brazil, with rare visitations to Texas.

The blaring sounds of thousands of cane toads and crickets drowned out the sounds of our footsteps as we traipsed wordlessly across two thin sandy tracks. Growing clouds quickly obscured the full moon. A storm approached, adding urgency to our trek. We found it challenging to notice and name species around us when we hardly see our feet, but we soon adapted to night vision.

A male indigo bunting in breeding plumage was another of my daytime favorites at the Sheepshead location on South Padre Island.
A male indigo bunting in breeding plumage was another of my daytime favorites at the Sheepshead location on South Padre Island.

We walked in pitch-blackness except for the few minutes it took to cross the clearing near The Wall along the Mexican border. My internal storyteller pictured crossing the border to freedom in the middle of the night. Flashes of lightning lit up the skies for miles, startling me with their intensity.

After forty minutes without a single word from any of us, one of the two guides halted our group of 15 and directed us into a semi-circle, whispering, “I’ll call him in. Get ready.” We stood still, poised, cameras aimed upward, as the thunder rolled around us and sweat dripped into my eyes. Though I longed to chug from my water bottle, I feared gulping might prevent the owl from visiting. Worse, it might make the others blame me.

Suddenly, a beacon of light flashed in the air. There! The owl only stayed for a few seconds before darting back into the shadows. We’d found our second rarity on the same day.

The Mottled Owl looks as startled to see us as we were to see it.
The Mottled Owl looks as startled to see us as we were to see it.

The return walk, equally devoid of chatter, no longer felt charged with anticipation. Instead, I found myself wondering if the storm would catch us. Our evening symphony included 6 eastern screech owls, 2 great horned owls, a bobwhite (which happens to sound exactly like its namesake), 11 common pauraques, 2 yellow-billed cuckoos, and 2 common nighthawks. And when we finally reached the cars, the rain had not yet started. It would cause a 25-degree drop in temperature, making birding more enjoyable Sunday morning.

I’ve thought of that night several times since. When we’re in the thick of change, we can feel like we’re lost in a dense forest with deafening noise (other people, offers, struggles, obstacles, you name it) trying to distract us and capture our attention. The trick is to continue to focus on what matters.

Notice and name is a strategy used in both birding and change. These half dozen ducklings tooled around near South Padre Island's mangroves.
Notice and name is a strategy used in both birding and change. These half dozen ducklings tooled around near South Padre Island’s mangroves.

Whenever you start to feel overwhelmed, pause. Notice and name what you’re feeling. Then think about all the tools available to you. People who can help. Your previous successes and superpowers, as I mentioned in my last post. Give up the need to know exactly how to get from point A to B and trust that it will. More importantly, notice and name the stories that get in your way.

The third highlight this week is the breeding male Bay-Breasted Warbler. At least a third of our 40 hours of birding were done at a small site called the Valley Land Fund Lots on South Padre Island. It includes four properties that have been repurposed to attract migrating birds, especially warblers. I was impressed by the diversity of birds in such a small area. Such diversity brings lots of people. I soon found myself overwhelmed and wandered the perimeter where I could peer in peace.

I shot a photo of a pretty, distinct-looking bird I hadn’t yet seen. Cornell describes it as having a “dark-streaked back, butter-yellow neck patch, black mask, and a rich dark bay color on the crown, throat, and flanks.” He tended to stay still longer than all the other warblers; perhaps that’s what made him my favorite. I noted his unique coloring, but I couldn’t yet identify it. Who might be able to notice and name it?

A lovely male bay-breasted warbler peers at me as though wondering what all the fuss was.
A stunning male bay-breasted warbler peers at me as though wondering what all the fuss was.

As soon as our birding friend identified it, he insisted I show him where I’d seen it. I realized I’d spotted an important bird. Within minutes of leading him to my find, a dozen others with long lenses came to look. In Yellowstone National Park when people stop their cars to gawk at black bears, we refer to such groups as “bear jams.” In this case, I caused a “bird jam.”

A "bird jam" I caused around the bay-breasted warbler.
A “bird jam” I caused around the bay-breasted warbler.

This third bird taught me two important lessons. First: shine – by being yourself and going about what you do best. This tiny bird had just migrated from gosh knows where. He encountered a thunderstorm the night before and was tired, hungry, and thirsty. His sole mission was to find enough food so he could continue to his final destination and start a new family.

Likewise, I’m a wildlife enthusiast and writer. I capture my experiences in photos and words. When I notice and name my abilities and skills, and enjoy them myself, others get to benefit from them. If I can supply readers with a fraction of the wonder and joy I experienced, I will have done what I intended.

A breeding male black-throated green warbler, another East Coast migrator.
A breeding male black-throated green warbler, another East Coast migrator.

And second, share with the world. These birds share their beauty simply by flying massive distances and touching down to rest. By bringing these three birds to your attention, I realize that I am a teacher. I may not stand up in front of a classroom every day, but when I hike or bird with friends, when I write a blog post or newsletter article, or when I coach an online session, I shine my light of knowledge and hope for others.

I will be creating new blogs less frequently from now until July 25. At that time, I hope to have completed the NBC-HWC coaching exam and will return to weekly posts. If you have a burning question or a comment about this or other posts, please share it below.