We woke up late under blue skies with nary a cloud to be seen. Amy called from the gym to warn us that Issaquah was socked in with fog, but up by NanaPapa's new house it ought to be clearing soon. Instead of learning past lessons and never leaving blue skies for the promise of blue elsewhere we packed up and headed west.
After a quick lunch of PBJ (the only ingredients, other than beer, at the new house) Henry went down for his nap, Amy and Nana went shopping, and I took the girls higher in the Highlands. Supposedly there was a trail along Grand Ridge. It was shared by bikers, but next-door neighbor Jeremy swears bikers aren't really all that bad so I put my trust in him and we hopped on the trail where it crossed Grand Ridge Drive.
I must admit that with a name like "Grand Ridge" you wouldn't be totally wrong to expect greatness. Unfortunately, Grand Ridge, although identified on maps, is really more of a "Minor Bump" in the grand scheme of things. Still, the trail was nicely built and wound its way through the dark trees.
Right away the girls were almost run down by a biker who apologized profusely. We started talking loudly and singing, at least for a while. Then we got bored with that and instead the girls decided they'd yell out random words. It worked just as well to warn bikers, cougars, and bears.
Of course, we didn't see anybody else until we stopped. A pair of bikers buzzed by us without so much as a glance of acknowledgment. I'm not sure where they were headed in such a hurry since the trail apparently doesn't actually go anywhere.
We had snacks and returned the way we'd come. There isn't much else to tell. We'd been out for a couple of hours and moseyed all of 2.2 miles and about 300 feet of gain out and back. It's a good trail, but there isn't much to see. It'd be gorgeous right after a heavy snowfall, though. Maybe that's when I'll drag the rest of the family out there.