Meg and I hiked up Mt. Si l
ast weekend; it was our second
time up this particular rock. Mt. Si squats majestically 30 miles east of Seattle, off of interstate 90, along Snoqualmie Pass. While Meg and I aren't too crazy about Auburn, our close proximity to Mt. Si and to the Pass is probably one of the best things about living where we live. Anyways, the hike up Mt. Si is fairly difficult, mainly due to 4 miles worth of steep, steep switchbacks. The air is thin as well. The hike itself wreaks a lot of havoc on your quads, gluts, and hampstrings on the way up, and a lot of havoc on your knees and lower back on the way down. But it hurts so good.
Originally, Meg and I planned on hiking Rattlesnake Ridge, a site we'd discovered a few weeks back on an impromtu hiking excursion, on our way home from Oktoberfest in Leavenworth. But the day was extraordinarily clear and still, and so we decided to hike Mt. Si in hopes of catching a view of Seattle, the Sound, and Mt. Ranier. Our hopes were realized. After about two hours, Meg and I reached the initial peak and ha
d lunch. From our little perch we could see Seattle. We could even see the Space Needle. The cityscape, so distant yet clear, looked like a miniature plaything. Beautiful. Serene. What eagles must feel like, viewing the earth with penetrating clarity and detachment. Anyways, we snapped some of the following pics. The peek in the background is Mt. Ranier. After lunch, I went ahead and scaled the tip of Mt. Si. It involed a somewhat perilous ascent (perilous by my standards anyway) through steep rock, snow, and even some ice. I reached the top after 20 mintues or so (the image at the top of this blog was taken here) and found some moutaineers sitting and starring lackadaisically. One was eating a sandwich, another was praying, or so it seemed, and another was smoking a joint. I sat, reflected on the hike up, and felt sorta like a philosopher. Sometimes things become more clear the higher up you are. It was a wierd intersection between the spatial and the spiritual.
A favorite passage from the writings of Albert Einstein came to mind:
"A finely tempered nature longs to escape from his noisy cramped surroundings into the silence of the high mountains where the eye ranges freely through the still pure air and fondly traces out the restful contours apparently built for eternity." The top of Mt. Si certainly felt like eternity. Too bad we had to come down.
Meg and I hiked up Mt. Si last weekend; it was our second time up this particular rock. Mt. Si squats majestically 30 miles east of Seattle, off of interstate 90, along Snoqualmie Pass. While Meg and I aren't too crazy about Auburn, our close proximity to Mt. Si and to the Pass is probably one of the best things about living where we live. Anyways, the hike up Mt. Si is fairly difficult, mainly due to 4 miles worth of steep, steep switchbacks. The air is thin as well. The hike itself wreaks a lot of havoc on your quads, gluts, and hampstrings on the way up, and a lot of havoc on your knees and lower back on the way down. But it hurts so good.
Originally, Meg and I planned on hiking Rattlesnake Ridge, a site we'd discovered a few weeks back on an impromtu hiking excursion, on our way home from Oktoberfest in Leavenworth. But the day was extraordinarily clear and still, and so we decided to hike Mt. Si in hopes of catching a view of Seattle, the Sound, and Mt. Ranier. Our hopes were realized. After about two hours, Meg and I reached the initial peak and ha
d lunch. From our little perch we could see Seattle. We could even see the Space Needle. The cityscape, so distant yet clear, looked like a miniature plaything. Beautiful. Serene. What eagles must feel like, viewing the earth with penetrating clarity and detachment. Anyways, we snapped some of the following pics. The peek in the background is Mt. Ranier. After lunch, I went ahead and scaled the tip of Mt. Si. It involed a somewhat perilous ascent (perilous by my standards anyway) through steep rock, snow, and even some ice. I reached the top after 20 mintues or so (the image at the top of this blog was taken here) and found some moutaineers sitting and starring lackadaisically. One was eating a sandwich, another was praying, or so it seemed, and another was smoking a joint. I sat, reflected on the hike up, and felt sorta like a philosopher. Sometimes things become more clear the higher up you are. It was a wierd intersection between the spatial and the spiritual.
A favorite passage from the writings of Albert Einstein came to mind: "A finely tempered nature longs to escape from his noisy cramped surroundings into the silence of the high mountains where the eye ranges freely through the still pure air and fondly traces out the restful contours apparently built for eternity." The top of Mt. Si certainly felt like eternity. Too bad we had to come down. 
1 comment:
Quite a description of the area! Yes, all the beauty of Western Washington reminds me ... "Count your many blessings and brighten the corner where you are!" (-:]
GGST22+
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