We started by cruising up the trail in the dark, as we do. As the light of day slowly filtered through the trees we switched off headlamps and pushed on. By the time we were done with the trail, it was truly daylight if cloudy. Not that we turned around, though. Now it was time for the real adventure.

Our objective was a solid 1,000 feet above us. No big deal, right? Except the route (note I didn't write, "trail") is only a third of a mile. If that doesn't steep, trust me, it is. And it's all on rock.

Helmets on we headed up. And up. And up. We did our best to avoid kicking rocks down the slope, but that's not really possible. Instead, we called out "ROCK!" repeatedly to warn anyone below. (We hadn't seen anyone to this point and we only did see a single person on our way back.)

As we climbed higher, the wind blew holes in the clouds so we could see the surrounding peaks and eventually we were above the clouds. Not all the clouds, but enough of the clouds we could see mountaintops poking up from the sea of gray below. Way on the horizon was Tahoma in all her early winter glory.

The summit was broad enough to allow us to chill for a few minutes and enjoy the views. Of course, Tinkham isn't a chilling kind of dog so she delighted in walking right up to the edge and looking over into the abyss. Not my favorite feeling as my bits ascended into my chest.

The way down was perhaps more fraught than the way up. I'm always more comfortable facing into the mountain and climbing. Fall forward? Hello, mountain. Going downhill and facing out? Falling on the descent means a much bigger fall. Don't worry, we didn't fall, but we didn't move quickly either.

Back on the actual trail we packed up our helmets and jackets and high tailed it down to the trailhead. Soon the snow will cover the area and make the mountain less approachable (at least until it's skiable later in the season). Not that we won't still look for stupid things to do. Maybe even new things for me.

📍On the lands of the Wenatchi people.