I finally took a solo trip up to Fault Lake, along the Selkirk Crest. 12 miles roundtrip. The first 4 miles in are on an old, overgrown logging road that is bikable. It's not the best quality single track, but it is a lot quicker--especially on the way out which is when my knees usually start hurting.
Some highlights below:
Crossing McCormick Creek.
Looking downstream.
Approaching the Selkirk crest.
Crossing Gunsight Creek.
Hunt Peak.
Hiking in subalpine snow.
Waterfall draining from Fault Lake.
Frozen Fault Lake with Hunt Peak looming above.
A nice snag.
Granite with veins.
Above the lake.
On the ridge above the lake for a closer look at Hunt Peak and fresh Spring avy debris on it's north slope.
Looking over the ridge into the next drainage, McCormick Lake.
Lunch spot on the ridge.
Abundant glacier lilies.
The ride out was nice and quick.
Ankle veins. I'm getting old.
Panorama.
Not bad for a weekend day when I have to work the evening shift.
I walked some errands downtown yesterday. One major use I've enjoyed with my iPhone is the nicer camera and infinite photo apps. When I'm not working, I tend to grab photos of things that look interesting. Here are some from yesterday.
Yes that last one is melting snow in front of an ice company warehouse.
I was also impressed with this woman.
I've seen another guy riding in town with a prosthetic leg. Impressive and inspiring.
In other matters, I've just returned from a 3 week vacation. I will post gratuitous photos soon.
In commemoration of bike-to-work week, and with the timely arrival of some downright decent Spring weather, I decided to start riding the bluff trails to work on my mountain bike when working downtown. Here is how it looked at 6:30 am the other morning:
I have no idea why I never did this before. I think my riding over the past year has become more and more utilitarian with longer and longer gaps between recreational rides. I've made a real effort to ride as many days as my schedule will allow, with the belief that regular 15 to 25 mile rides will get me in better shape than less frequent 30 to 40 mile rides. I don't know if this notion is true, but anecdotally I think I can tell a difference (of course I really haven't defined what "better shape" is, so who knows). Riding singletrack every morning and evening, however, has brought the joy of riding back front and center. I had so much fun last week that I've continued this week despite working overnight. Here is how the trails looked at 8 pm on the way to work:
Magical.
Here is a shot of the 4:30 am Spokane sunrise in May--something I enjoy almost as much as the exploding, native Balsamroot that is all over right now.
Staying up all night is good mental training for the Midnight Century, which I've convinced at least one friend to undertake with me this year.
A week ago I actually took a recreational ride and finally found the trail along the Spokane river between the cemetery on Government Way and the T.J. Meenach bridge. It had nearly reached "legendary" status in my mind since I had heard whisperings of its existence for years, but never had the fortitude to actually find it. I just happened to pass some bikers who boldly passed a "No Trespassing" sign just off the road, seconds after I paid heed to the same sign and stayed on the pavement. I reluctantly followed as I tend to respect such signs, and finally discovered the thread-like shoreline trail. I can't claim it was the most fun singletrack in the area, but it does get you from downtown to Riverside in a more interesting way. I doubt I'll ride it very often, but it's nice to know it's there. And I can't believe how many times I passed it's northern terminus without even thinking,"gee, what's over here?"
We had a surprisingly good time last weekend as rookie "bloomies". I think V was so high on endorphins at the end of the run that she was thinking about running home, getting the kids, and doing it again. I would have considered joining her if I thought it would have kept my quads from cinching down like a corset.
Instead we went home, got the kids, and headed out on a waterfall hunt. This time we went to the southeastern shore of Lake Roosevelt to see Hawk Creek Falls. This is a somewhat bashful waterfall, wedged in a tight corner of its namesake canyon. Hard to get a really stunning photo as a result.
The falls had plenty of water spilling over its top, running along it's creekbed and into the lake. The lake, however, was at it's annual low having been drawn down in anticipation of a generous Spring runoff.
It was nice to feel hot and dry as we wandered the sandy lakebed.
On the way back we stopped at Fort Spokane, something I've wanted to do for some time. It was interesting to think about life at the fort 115 years ago but sad to think about life there 104 years ago when it was a compulsory school for Native children. I always find it satisfying to experience more of our local history. This was a photo for Savanna's 7th grade social studies/geography/Washington State History class:
They are supposed to get photos of different places while holding a can of SPAM (maps spelled backward). We didn't have any on hand but will have to play with photoshop later.
We stopped at a small store/restaurant/gas station to get something to drink on the way home. I appreciated the exclusivity that comes from living in a small town.
If only my first name was Robert, I'd be golden.
Overall, it was a good day trip to start the season of family adventure.
nature always loses. I saw these flattened worms across miles of road on my run the other morning. I'd say they were suicidal if I believed they knew or were capable of understanding what their instinctive drive to surface in the moisture would have resulted in. It reminded me of seeing a young duckling folded under the front wheel of a car as I rode to work last Spring. I think it had lost it's mother in the very same road minutes earlier and was running in circles as I approached. Rather than run to the safety of the shoulder and river below, it headed out onto the highway just as a car came speeding from behind. I've seen my fair share of roadkill, but was involved with more than my fair share last year--the most significant being the elk I mortally wounded with my truck on the way to Mt. Rainier. I hope this year I see nothing more than flattened worms. I'm sure there is a life metaphor in here somewhere but I am inclined not to explore it (which may also be metaphorical, sheesh).
Anyway, the key bit of information here is that I was running, which is a rare event. However, in a bid to more fully enjoy our community I have decided to run Bloomsday this year and have been getting in a few miles of training (we have now lived here for 10 years and have never even watched the race). I have come to appreciate how much easier cycling is on your body. My calves are sore and my left hip hurts, causing me to hobble like the middle aged slob that I am. I'm hoping I'll heal a bit by this weekend and that I don't get lost amongst the 50,000 other "worms" running the race.
To further quell the gloomy mood at the beginning of this post, here is a photo of Ansel mid Easter egg safari last weekend and a photo of newly hung drywall in our basement.
Seems like this time of year, nearly every year, I hear complaints of Spring's late arrival. Of course, despite the abundance of rain and snow, Spring, like every other year, is, in fact, right on time. People just have short memories and start to confuse Spring with Summer.
Personally, I like how distinct Spring is at our northern latitude. It's unpredictable and exciting and builds anticipation for the easy warmth of Summer.
In celebration of Spring's arrival, and to reconnect with one another, we kidnapped our grumbling children, dragged them from their Winter hovels, and went for a walk. First we headed to my favorite place to walk in Riverside State Park, Deep Creek. The geology is fascinating, picturesque, and uniquely "Spokane" (and I'm not talking about the random pockets of garbage, which may not be unique to Spokane alone). Then we stopped downtown to admire the full force of Spokane Falls. I never tire of staring at the Spring runoff, hurtling down the falls, imagining what it must have looked like 100 years ago (and eons before that) as a wild river with salmon and nothing around but trees and grass.
I took some time to take photos and video, and even tried to do a little whizbang editing.
Ansel with indisputable evidence:
V taking a picture of me taking a picture of her. Photo-recluse Savanna is behind her.
Lazy afternoon, my favorite kind.
Emmy afloat in the waves of basalt near Deep Creek.
Looking up the Deep Creek Canyon. Good practice for Southern Utah this Summer.
The purple gondola.
A great and familiar landmark.
The base of the Monroe Street Bridge.
Mist and sunlight go well together.
Ansel climbing the "tooth" in Riverfront park. What a great kid.
City hall ivy.
Upriver with rainbow.
Back home on our hillside the glacier lilies are in full force.
Trying the calamari at the new Ciao Mambo.
Finally, a quick video. My attempt to capsulize the power of the river in the Spring so I can enjoy it the other 11 months.
Regrettably, many times the seasons pass without taking time to savor and appreciate them. This year at least, I can say I enjoyed Spring.
