Hello! This is my first post at Washington Trails. Thank you for the venue and the connection. What a fabulous service to those whom enjoy wilderness adventures.

Many are aware of the mythological phoenix; rebirth and renewal rising from ash. Another definition, of which I’ve been recently acquainted, exists within the literal meaning of the word: “a supremely beautiful, rare or unique person or thing.” My experience this weekend to and at Rachel Lake, trail #1313 illuminated this definition; both in person and thing.

My soul sister Melissa and I started out late in the day given a chopped off road sign: beware-road 4930 is after the one with the missing digit. We began our travels embraced by the warm, delightful day filled with puffy cotton balls in the sky. Our singing duo ventured into the regenerated forest…beauty from destruction, life after death and endurance amongst the imperfection of human beings and our world. Truly inspirational, if seen with new eyes. We wandered to some lovely wild strawberries on the trail and Mount Margaret to our right as the breeze suddenly and gently whispered “no, this is not the way”.

So, down again we veered past a resident garter snake basking in the sun and in another mile or so were on our way---hop aboard the optimism train we sang; flutes in tow and smiles matching the sunshine beaming above amongst the gathering, greying clouds (rain had been predicted but we went forth anyway). Rampart Ridge to the left, regally called us near.

Along the trail, mystic pools lit by ancient turquoise colored rock gurgled as waterfalls danced in rhythm with the thrush, chattering of sooty squirrels and sound of our heart beats. We ascended steadily up, as the Mountaineers describe, the “cruel mile” climb to Rachel, stopping only when needed to gaze at something remarkable or to refresh our parched throats. Wonderful flow guided us, like the water that at one point, became the only path; but blessings of tread and kind fellow travelers that came before lead our way. No rush, no hurry…simple, graceful, steady determination.

On final ascent, the darkened thunderheads released their tears; quenching and cooling the challenges of the day. After a windy sleep, we drenched ourselves in the morning sun, nature’s dryer, surrounded by marmot music and warding off the plethora of flies and mosquitoes that ruthlessly sought the minute un-deet covered portions of skin. However, no bug, rain drop, steep incline or breath of wind could sway us amongst the quiet center within; thus the beauty of this adventure. No matter the what, we were there. Present, accepting of the imperfections that exist in everything, rising from the ash---rare, unique, beautiful moments. Like the phoenix, through all imperfections amongst mountain adventures and in life…still, we may rise. Happy traveling to all in our beautiful Northwest backyard!