Hike 12 // January 22nd, 2013
We are lucky enough to live close to the foothills and all the highways that lead there. We just had to hop in the car for a 20 minute drive and we were at Rattlesnake Lake. If you are familiar with hiking in Washington you have probably heard of Rattlesnake Ledge – and I will not be attempting that hike with the little wild thing strapped to me anytime soon. Hell no. Ryan hiked it once and from his stories, I think I will wait until I look like the Hulk to do that. But Rattlesnake Lake was a fine and leisurely hike.
And it was beautiful. The lake was completely iced over, evergreens lined the shores, and Rattlesnake Ledge looked down at us (probably judging me for taking the easy path). There was nobody else there. Except an owl hooting, a few birds and, oh yeah, a photoshoot crew and model. They were only there for a short time, but in that short time the poor model was standing in a bikini on the iced over lake while a person (in a parka) dumped water all over her and had her flip her hair while they took photos. I shivered to my bones in my warm clothes thankful, for once, not to have a model’s body. After they left, I explored some more while the little wild thing napped on me. When she woke up, we walked the rocky beach and tossed rocks out on the to the ice, climbed stumps, and talked about how no, there were no snakes at this lake named after them.
I will leave you with this poem by Mary Oliver:
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting -
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.