Just 20 miles from home are Seattle's local ski resorts. In winter, they're covered in snow and skiers. People are everywhere. In summer, it's not the case. Nobody wants to climb under the lifts and deal with the brush. That's what made it such a great option for the summer of 2020.
I remembered a lovely little trail that wound up the hillside and avoided the worst patches of ankle-high trees mowed to allow thin-snow skiing. I couldn't find it. I really looked, but eventually I gave up and just went up.
My first attempt was up a steep gully. It ended at a wall of devil's club. I looked down to find a marmot's skull at my feet. I decided that was not the way.
I opted instead for rock fields. It was slow going, but Tink and I got above the brush and into the alpine as the day started to warm up. At the top of the highest chair lift we looked at the rest of our planned route. Oh, dang. That goes down. A lot. And quickly. If we went down that way, coming back up would be a real chore.
Yolo. (Isn't that what the kids say?)
The dog and I dropped down and sort of scree-skied to the base of the hill. The rocks were bigger (and more stable) so we were able to continue on. We actually found a small snow patch nestled in the shade. Tink ate a bunch. I might have, too.
My route was clearly not going to work. At least not in the time I had. Instead of rock hopping for the next couple of miles on a steep slope, we turned more down to head back to where we started. I won't deny more than a couple wistful glances across the big rock slabs and the talus that stretched all the way to the next ridge line.
Given it's so close to home and completely unpopulated in summer, this was a big win. The route I took might not have been the best, but I saw a bunch of great spots to explore. I'd even come back even if we're not being asked to stay close to home. As it is, you can expect a bunch more pictures from this area as the summer winds down.
