The temperature was 62 in the urban, Seattle-Tacoma lowlands. Trees were all busted-out in blossoms, and we drove past a number of cars with convertible tops down so drivers could enjoy the spring day. My friend Shelley and I were headed to Mt. Rainier, up-up-up into a high, still-snowy landscape, around 5,000 feet in elevation. Knowing that the warmer weather will, in the coming months, eventually make its way even into the mountain high country, our plan was to get out for a good hike, celebrating spring by saying good-bye to winter. Our car was packed with warm hiking boots, snowshoes and ski poles, and the day packs we’d carry that day held numerous combinations of gloves, stocking caps, and layers of outerwear.
Shelley, on spring break from her teaching job at a university back East, had come out to spend several days with us. A go-go-go human being some 20 years younger than Leah and me, Shelley seems to think of me as Hiking Trip Leader-Man. When I pointed out the irony that she and I would spend a beautiful, sunny day up in the snow -- while many of the students Shelley teaches were probably lying, nearly naked, on a beach in Florida or Mexico -- Shelley said: “Well at least we’ll all be wearing sun screen.”
And the day we had at Rainier was, in fact, as good as any day at the beach. The beautiful little peaks of the Tatoosh Range -- we’ve hiked and climbed up into those peaks on previous outings -- made us feel like we were Back Home. Another gift that day was that we happened upon a wild fox, napping lazily in the snow, seemingly unconcerned about our presence. I had time to make several photographs of the fox before he/she yawned, then got up and wandered off, perhaps looking for a more private nap spot.
