I love this time of year in Central Washington. The harvest is complete, the sky is clear, the air is crisp and the nights are long. For me, it’s a the time of year for reflection and at the same time, excitement for what lies ahead.
Reflection… on the past year of my life, this latest trip around the sun and what I have done to better myself, my family and my surroundings. I’m a big believer in leaving things better than I found them. So when the nights start getting long and cold, I know that it’s time to take stock of the past year and establish a couple key things I want to accomplish and build during the next upcoming trip around the main object of our helio-centric system.
As part of this reflection, I like to challenge myself with something strenuous, which is usually a hike because the mountains don’t have enough snow just yet, and our trail system is very dry. I try to take internal notes on how I feel before, during and after the hike. Am I losing energy? Do I feel like I could keep going? How heavy were my legs on the climb? I place a very high value on being able to do strenuous things as I continue to age. For me, it’s a constant battle with my body to maintain flexibility. You know what I’m talking about. Those mornings where you wake up stiff in places you never quite felt before. A few days of little movement leads to a tight back, neck and hamstrings. The cumulative days of inactivity over the course of a year can really show up when I challenge myself in a strenuous activity. So, during this reflection period, I set a milestone to measure where I’m at. How am I doing? What needs to change?
But of course, it’s not all about reflection. Hikes are awesome because they lead to vistas, and vistas lead to wonderment. Wonderment leads to future poring over maps and planning new adventures. It’s a virtuous cycle that I gladly sign up for.
So for this year’s reflection, I kinda already passed through that major milestone while hiking a 39-mile section of the Oregon Coast Trail in early October. You can read about that here. So, instead of some major journey, I challenged myself on a short, but very steep grade in Yakima Canyon that I knew would (a) be physically challenging and (b) lead to a vista exposing the entire Kittitas Valley and the Stuart Range of the Cascades, beyond.
The forecast predicted the coldest sunrise temperatures since last winter, and the most recent weather system had just moved through, removing all the wood smoke haze and particulates from the Columbia Basin. It was the perfect time to take out the big camera lens: clearing skies, low sun angles and fresh surface air.
Rattlesnake Dance Ridge Trail is only 1.0 mile between the Trailhead and summit, but you gain 1,200’ in elevation over that same distance. There are three steep sections along the way, and the footing is loose basalt, pumice and dirt. I use trek poles for the descent because there are a lot of step-downs onto loose features.
Because the trail is along a ridgeline, almost a hogback of sorts the entire way up, you have 300+ degree views the entire way. While ascending, you see The Kittitas Valley, Stuart Range and Ellensburg on your left, and the entire Yakima River Canyon and Manastash Ridge on your right (and behind you).
Reaching the top of the climb, it’s an unobstructed 360 degree view of the entire Manastash and Umtanum Ridge features, as well as a crosscut of the Yakima River Canyon all the way to Roza.
I started the hike by nearly pulling my groin as I got out of the truck and immediately slipped on the frozen depression in the pull-off area at the trailhead. Laughing, I recognized once again that nothing is ever pre-ordained. Close call behind me, and my heart already pumping with slight adrenaline, I put my pack on and made my way up the spine of the ridgeline.
I won’t bore you with the details of the hike, but I can say I felt pretty amazing at the top, and my legs were never heavy or fatigued. I captured several photos of the surrounding terrain and took note of the especially clear Mount Stuart rising nearly 7,000’ above the Kittitas valley to an elevation of 9,415’ above sea level.
The air was very crisp, and the wind was nonexistent. I could hear the crows flying around the canyon, and also the Yakima River making its way over rocks and boulders below me. No traffic, no human sounds. Just clarity and calm.
I came away from the hike with new photos, and a new verdict. I’m doing OK, actually better than where I was last year at this time(!). Mentally and Physically. I’m a year older, but actually feel a little more lighter overall, slightly more in-tune with the present. Stronger physically in many respects, but still dealing with lack of mobility in others. With all that being said, there’s definitely more work to do. My journey continues on.
I’m thankful for my health, my family and this opportunity to start another sojourn around the sun. I’m ready for the next step in my evolution to becomes a better human to myself an others. 1% better every day, in fact. Cheers.