It was one of the good days on the trip where we woke up with the sun already in the sky (albeit behind soon-to-be drizzling clouds). As per usual, Tim made his way around the tents practicing his call and response.

Tim: Alrighty, time to get up.

Everyone: *groan*

On the sixth day, I have grown accustomed to this routine and jolted out of my sleeping back. It was going to be a short day today, just under two miles to the next camp; we might even make it before lunch. I compressed my sleeping back, rolled my sleeping pad, and crawled over Zhewen because he always slept directly next to the tent flap. The night before was cold and the morning before that was rainy, so it was a nice change of pace to have a few brief rays of sunshine come through the trees we all slept under. Everyone was cheery this morning, it’s impressive to see what just a little bit of sun can do.

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The mornings took pretty long to get going. It took a while for Zhewen to wake up, for a dysfunctional cook group (you know who you are), and for Aisling to find her sleeping pad strap (it was in her backpack). I gathered all of my clothes that I had left to dry in the shelter, which was filled with mouse feces, possibly containing hantavirus. After all of the formalities and informalities, we started trekking towards our next destination, Dose Meadows.

The hike took us along the Dosewallips River, which drains down into Hood Canal. This short walk took about two hours because we took a leisurely pace, but there was a bit of difficulty in avoiding some of the overgrown plants. We came across a bunch of Cow Parsnip (Heracleum maximum), which has a light-sensitive toxin on its stem that can cause burns and rashes. And as a pleasant surprise, as we approached the Dose Meadows, we were astonished to find a marmot resting on a rock directly in front of the camp.

We spent a long time taking photos while Jonathan took out his film camera. After we all got our fair share of good shots, we set up our tents and brought out our bear canisters for lunch. This late in the trip everyone was running low on food, except for one group (you also know who you are). We decided to make pasta for lunch, and we also all ate a garlic clove that “hurt but felt good.” Like clockwork, Tim jumped up with his post-lunch energy and got ready for the day hike he had planned to thousand-acre meadows. While we were eating, Jonathan started crawling around on the ground near the rock the marmot was on. Jonathan had lost his lens cap and was scavenging around looking for it.

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After cleaning up my lunch, I collected what I needed to go on this hike. Tim, Zhewen, Diana, Aisling, both Katies, and I ventured out shortly after. And Jonathan was still looking for his cap.

Tim told us that this little excursion would take no more than 4 hours, but this statement would prove to be false. We took the path we would take tomorrow up to a creek. On one cliffside, there were fantastic looking switchbacks that made the mountains look like a zipper stitched them together. After a quick rest, we went off trail for the pass just within view. Katie and I intermittently ran up the hill and scared a few marmots on the way. Tim found a Western Toad near a brook as he walked up and took an adorable photo.

As we got to the pass, I walked an alternative path up to pass and met the rest there. Tim then took out the map and told us to find out where in the world we were. After reorienting the map to match the mountains that surrounded us, we realized that we needed to go into the valley and go out the other pass. We started crawling around the side of the mountainside and then up a river towards the second pass.

The view was breathtaking. From the pass, all of the hills were diminutive, and the river was pencil-thin. On the far left of the meadow, we spotted a black bear foraging in the ground, presumably looking for roots. We watched its tiny black figure mull around a patch of trees, and eventually disappear inside it. We all brought out our journals and started to jot down our thoughts and draw the landscape laid before us. Katie Spires thought it would be fun to climb the mountain that we went around, so she started walking up the cliff face. No one else noticed she began her ascent until I pointed out she made it to the top.

 

We collectively decided to then venture down into the meadow and walk alone for a bit to take in the magnificence of the place. The hills were taller than I thought they were, and the valley was livelier. The river was roaring, and wildflowers covered the ground. I found some fresh puffball mushrooms, and I took a bite out of the creamy bulb; it was delicious and melted in my mouth, but I spit it out because I didn’t want to risk getting sick (that wouldn’t stop us later though). We all reconvened and decided to wrap around the mountain and head down the face to reconnect with the trail. Tim took a tiny Timmy tumble; thought the trip traumatized Tim; Tim toughed the tumble. While we were walking, we came across a gorgeous patch of snowmelt flowers.

We eventually all made it back to the path, and we started on our journey back. As we got a little closer to the campsite, I spotted a black bear on our right side only 20 meters away from us. We immediately hushed and told the others of the great news. The bear caught on pretty quickly and bolted in the other direction and towards the forest. It bounded over a stream and leaped up on the other side, showing its fully extended body before it disappeared within the forest. Now full of adrenaline, we went back to camp to tell the others what we saw. Fortunately, the other campers had a similar experience. A black bear went across the open space near our campsite and walked in the direction where we just came from, so it was probably the same bear! Also, the day-hike was more like 5 and a half hours.

Having all settled back into our camp and changed into some dry clothes, we quickly ate dinner so we could move on to the dissection for tonight. Zhewen had previously prepared a thoughtful discussion on the work of Ernest Callenbach: “Ecotopia: The Notebooks and Reports of William Weston.” This utopian novel lays out a world in which the pacific northwest has fully integrated nature into their society and cities. A world in which we live in harmony, food is in surplus, and work isn’t what gets you up in the morning; sounds pretty lovely. Throughout this discussion, we all looked at different aspects of how this world functions and whether it could be feasible to have such a thing in the future. (insert photo) We ended out dissection like how we ended most of our discussions, on a tangent that got everyone engaged. Ecotopia seemed to have solved many of the problems that are caused by overpopulation. Jonathan posed the question: “would you sacrifice having children (tubes tied or vasectomy) to ensure we reach an ecotopia.” This conversation got a little heated but ended with the conclusion that half of the men in the world should get mandatory vasectomies (not actually, this is satirical). This discussion brought us into the cold darkness that the Olympics love. With our headlamps on and our sleeping pads fully inflated, we retreated into our tents and called it a night.

 

Reflection:

Throughout this adventure, I learned a lot from my friends and mother nature. A few architecture classes ago, I came to realize that our lives and psyche revolve around the physical space we occupy. Within a city, you can’t look in any direction without your view being obstructed by a metal spire or a billboard. Your thoughts are contained within the concrete structures we built to keep us safe, but what have we sacrificed in the process. Standing upon the pass overlooking Thousand Acre Meadows, I didn’t have thoughts that could fill that space. Wilderness is so much more than a place to reflect; it opens up the space to think about the big ideas and let our minds wrap around the mountains and pool in the valleys.

Lastly, I reflected upon my decisions that led me to my dance major. I used to dance without purpose. That is not to say I didn’t master the choreography or have fun, but that was its fullest extent. The dance was superficial, something to do but not something I would do anything for. This changed as I grew older, and I cascaded into a love for dance when I was read a poem at a “planetary dance” event. One specific line from the poem, We Should Dance by Jahan Khaleghi, resonated within me while I was in the wilderness: “We should dance… As if the earth below were actually the night sky of another world and our scurrying were their shining stars”. Our actions live out our existence and leave a path for others to follow in the sky. Throughout this trip, we did a lot of walking. Walking and hiking and more walking. In the beginning, the first five miles were the hardest, slowest, and most nerve-racking. We were not sure of our direction, only that the camp was the next destination. However, as we accrued more miles under our belt our heading was less cloudy and our direction more clear. We now hiked with purpose, a purpose deeper than making it to the next campsite. We hiked in the direction for a better future. Every step we took got us closer to the ecotopia, a symbiosis, and an appreciation of the wilderness and nature wherever that may be. The lasting effect of this class goes way beyond the scope of the summer; we learned how to bushwack our way to a better future.

I can’t help but think that our walking lit up stars, and I doubt they will ever go out. I hope that whoever is reading this can see the trail we left and walks alongside us on this journey we must go on together.