Narada Falls Near Mt. Rainier

Late Sunday afternoon, around 3 o'clock at Adytum, which was enveloped in heavy cloud cover, we decided to leave for Mt. Rainier, hike Narada Falls and end up at at one of our favorite places, Alexander's Country Inn.

Normally we'd have left hours ago. There was little hope of actually hiking Paradise before nightfall but there are plenty of other hikes along the way and all involving waterfalls. Suddenly, ten miles east in Morton the sun broke through and afforded a whole other experience.

Right before the Park entrance, we stopped into a gift shop because there was chainsaw art out front. Adytum has its share of ancient maple stumps, many 150 years old, and Donn has decided to turn them into spirit wood art instead of cutting them out of the ground. Spirit Wood is something we are all familiar with...the face peering out of the wood. We like Mirth and Green Man in particular because they appear on so many of the European Cathedrals and even on our own Washington National Cathedral in Washington, DC.  We collect these carvings from master stonecarver Walter Arnold who carved on the cathedral alongside Frederick Hart, famous for the Ex Nihilo sculpture at the entrance to the Cathedral and for the 3 Soldiers sculpture near the Vietnam Memorial Wall.

We bought three small Spirit Wood carvings for the Adytum Autumn table, to blend with some owls already on hand. Then we drove on past Comet Falls, which is a great short hike, to Narada Falls, the crowning jewel of the mountain highway. It was 46 degrees with wind chill...I'm not sure I'm ready for winter...We saw the friendly Clark's Nutcrackers that are more than happy to accept peanuts and crackers from your hand. Someone had dumped a bag of peanuts out for them and they were flying in over the waterfall to eat before sundown.

Walking down to the Narada Falls lookout point was slick and wet. The fine spray met us every step of the way and despite the dry summer, the torrent of water cascading over the lip of Narada Falls is an impressive force of nature...absolutely glorious. In the slideshow you can see that opposite this formidable release of crystal clear water are a series of natural stone steps that meet the falls at the bottom of the drop.

As in the case of almost all photography, you simply have to be there to capture the nuances, the essences of this exquisite display of power and might. Many had carved their names and initials on the wooden rail at the lowest lookout point where the might of the Falls diminishes somewhat into a more containable stream winding through the valley below. The carved words seemed a desire to remain, timeless and eternal, like these Falls; to merge with the mastery of life and be carried along in their glory...

We exchanged photo taking with one other couple on the trail and headed back up. There were only half a dozen cars in the parking lot and many children scrambling dangerously close to the retaining wall which looks like a castle from the viewpoint below. The walk is magical and transported me. Nature has always fed the deep, inner recesses of my spirit which becomes parched in a city environment quickly. Our Creator has made space for combining with the eternal and the art-walks we enjoy in the Pacific Northwest have no equal in any city museum...

Cold enough now to require some warming up, we head to Alexander's Country Inn; the charming blue Inn with a Victorian turret and large, wooden water wheel churning. Deer are almost always in the yard eating windfall apples, but we didn't see them today. Alexander's keeps trout in a large pond behind the Inn, but this evening I ordered a salmon burger sans the bread for $10 and Donn ordered an excellent 4-cheese ravioli in a butter sauce with a variety of mushrooms and red bell pepper. At $16 he was quite happy all the way around.  His salad had a unique maple vinaigrette that was wonderful. We  had a warming meal despite a bit of a chilly reception from the wait staff which is unusual for that establishment...

We bought a season's pass for $30 and will return to enjoy the last of the huckleberries and the blaze of their foliage before winter sets in. The hills pour with liquid amber and the passion colors of Fall as Vine Maples celebrate in unison their finest hour. I love this time of year. It's my favorite and the briskness is so welcome after the heat of summer.

This day has taught me not to accept the limits and boundaries we impose on our expectations and ideas of things. We've never started a hike, with an hour's drive to our destination, so late. And we certainly will again in the future. It capped the busy guest-filled weekend at Adytum with restorative joy and peace. It grounded me once again in the deep Reality of nature and our oneness with all living things. My well is replenished and my week will reflect this short but intense investment in my spirit/body/mind complex.

The Grove of the Patriarchs

Saturday afternoon is the perfect time to make a short 55 minute drive east from Adytum to enjoy a relaxed walk through a literal art museum of Nature and 1000 year old Fir and Cedar. Don’t let that number slip by you… Reflect on all the history these trees have absorbed.  I have 51 years. They have 949 more warm summers and winters of frigid snow, ice and winds endured…pause and take note.

Boardwalk and nicely groomed trails mark the way through a forest that has withstood the test of time. The first impression, at least on a day without the usual Pacific Northwest cloud cover, is the enchanting glint of splendid sunlight piercing the canopy 200 feet above accenting the old growth trees. The first shaft of sunlight I witnessed fell on shards of Western Red Cedar snags in the early afternoon light. The quality of light is the envy of any painter of note. It stops you in your tracks. At once it suggests enchantment and mystery. I knew I was in a different kind of wood. It was a hallowed Hall of the Ancients and they exert their presence from the beginning of the trail beckoning me onward.

We walk on sand before the boardwalk begins.  Because the Ohanapecosh River floods it deposits rich soil onto the forest floor nourishing some of the largest trillium I’ve ever seen, piggyback plants, elderberry and salmonberry and many varieties of ferns including my favorite: the Maidenhair Fern with its arching black fronds. The forest floor is littered at this time of year- October – with dry fir needles and freshly fallen leaves. The earthy, spicy smell is enveloped in a chill and rises up with each step further toward the Throne Room where the majority of the Ancients hold Court.

The second impression that literally takes my breath away is the purity of the water quality of the river along the trail. Crystal clear somehow isn’t an adequate description. The water flows from a non-active glacier and is pristine in the extreme. Each rock is clearly visible; its colors undulating under the movement of the current. I imagine that summers could be spent here on the banks of this river. Waterproof shoes would allow crossing of the shallow waters and even children could play off its banks with abandon. As I watch a Water Ouzel dive in to find a little insect and bob downstream with the flow.

As we crossed the Suspension Bridge with little Dash terrified of being tossed overboard with the rocking, I thought that this was the stuff calendars are made of; the quintessential calendar shot. Since I had polarized Maui Jim sunglasses on, I could look right through the top glare to the bottom where the rocks rested on the same sand I walked on earlier.

The trail is pure pleasure. The incline is achieved in a gentle fashion and there is so much visual stimulation we are oblivious to any exertion. Once the Great Hall is reached where the concentration of Ancients is evident, the real art show begins. Quite simply, it is an eye to eye study of wood grain in the fallen Elders.

Whorls, knots and water-like swirling patterns adorn the lovely old wood. How I would love to have a table made of these patterns…their lives are lived out as concentric circles, as rises and falls, as knots and depressions. 

No artist could achieve a more compelling work. The patterns of the old bark on the soaring Fir are equally riveting; to say they wore their age well would be an understatement. It is a cloak of pure glory they wrap themselves in before strutting to the clouds in their antiquity. If we leave behind such grace, originality and sheer magnificence we will count it our great legacy. Remember, they are but Trees planted some 1000 years past. We hold choice in our hearts.

The interesting portion that transfixes my eyes are the old limbs that hang like hoary appendages from antediluvian times from the trunks. Covered in moss and lichen, they seem to be living driftwood – dead but not dead. Sometimes they intertwine with vine maple in an age old dance of stability and lightness. Mostly they stand as a testament to age and an endurance most of us are unlikely to ever match. Each Ancient Tree  soars like a cathedral spire into heaven itself. The sun that chances to fall onto the forest floor through the denseness of this age-old canopy is fortunate indeed. When it achieves that end, the shafts are guaranteed to cause us to stand and admire the highlight. This minute, the shard of Cedar was in the limelight. In the next quarter hour, a pair of towering Fir allowed the sun entrance in the space between them like pillars containing pure energy.

We will be directing guests of Adytum to this amazing experience. To enter the company of the Ancients, to gain strength from their endurance and joy from the beauty of their artful expression is something few will ever forget. Their impression remains imprinted on the wild places of the heart that has the eyes to see.

Heading East on Highway 12 through Packwood, we turned left at the Stevens Pass turn off (which is also the Sunrise Entrance to Mt. Rainier- the right hand route would take you to White Pass) and then another left at Stevens Canyon.

Goat Creek Falls ~ the Voice of Water

The many water features surrounding the “little Castle” as Italian artist, Arri, described Adytum owes its inspiration to the Pacific Northwest Rainforest.  If you like the complement of water music ~ the language of the misty northwest forests as you climb through luxuriant foliage, Goat Creek Falls is your dream hike.

Nearly every step is accompanied by the happy gurgle of brooks; the rush of falling water and the tumult of cascading falls at the climax of the trail particularly after snow melt in early spring. Birdsong echoes from the limbs of a thousand trees in this old wood. Like Muir says, “the songs of the water, wind and birds” – all meld into an incitement to gain strength and peace as you’re drawn deeper into the emerald enchantment and mystery of this moist woodland.

At summer’s end the flow of the falls is reduced to a gentle curtain of iridescent raindrops with the finest spray as a reward for reaching the top. After a dry summer, it is a miracle there is a mist at all. Standing under the fall on the narrow trail, the mist caressing my face I watch the curtain of water falling onto an ancient flood boulder before cascading down into the creek below. 

It reminds us “everything is flowing…going somewhere”. Life in the profound serenity and holiness of the forest is vibrating with passionate energy and distinct intention despite the relative stillness.

The fall’s rock face truly is magnificent and standing behind the effervescent veil of water is exhilarating in early spring and restful in summer. It extends the summons to achieve oneness with the flow of all nature…We have a goal to hike all the waterfall trails as soon as snow melts next year to experience the force of nature’s pure wildness celebrating in her most rambunctious style.

The beauty of this trek is that it is only about 30 minutes from Adytum near Riffe Lake. Goat Falls captures the feeling Rumi reflected when he said “we have fallen into the place where everything is music”.  The combination of intense, lush beauty and soothing water-music is unbeatable.

The proximity is prized by guests that want to enjoy the magic of Adytum without long jaunts to far off excursions. You can stop back into the Bean Tree or Plaza Jalisco in Morton to refuel. Also, the locals tell me that Morton Meat Market has the best beef jerky anywhere. I wouldn’t know, but I do go in to buy raw dog bones for the pack and there is always a line in front of the meat counter.

If you have four-wheel drive great. If not, there was only other car parked at the trailhead when we drove out on a Saturday afternoon -  a Hyundai with two-wheel drive - so despite the potholes and oftentimes deep ruts, you can probably negotiate the 4.5 miles of gravel road off the main road to start your exploration. There are no services, so handle that beforehand or brave the steep cliff and some fancy balancing footwork to find the notoriously large girthed tree.

Before you cross the fishing bridge over Riffe Lake, you will see hang gliding enthusiasts who flock to Dog Mountain for great hang gliding at the head of the lake. The breezes blow off the lake pushing up the steep cliffs creating thermals that allow gliders to stay aloft. There are always a lot of fishermen fishing off the bridge which speaks of the bounty of these Pacific Northwest Waters.

The hike starts at a narrow trailhead and teems with spectacular vegetation instantly like a staged Home and Garden Show. Muir described such a wood, “a fairyland created out of the commonest fern-stuff”.

Profuse stands of maidenhair ferns with its arching fronds, Hart’s Tongue Fern, light green deer fern and lady fern – the quintessential feathery fern with the black frond emerges in every crevasse of the rock walls that interrupt the vegetation flow. Knickinick, coral bells and tiny fir, hemlock and cedar trees line the trail.

Moss lines every open space and we stepped over an abundance of leopard and banana slugs. It is another world…restfully cool and tranquil…and yes, magical. With the prehistoric heritage of ferns, it could be a time warp from thousands of years ago. Enter in...

 After a steep incline we look into upper boughs of ancient Fir and Big Leaf Maple with Polypody Fern – epiphyte -ensconced in the curve of massive limbs.

  “Epiphyte give the architecture of a tree or a shrub a complex fenestration that confers age and complexity.” (Native Ferns, Moss & Grasses, William Cullins)

Then, the forest descends sharply. Earlier we passed four men amusing themselves rolling rocks down the cliff. The extreme brink of the edge of the path traveled one at a time asserts a silent warning all along the way. No daydreamers here.... Lightening fires leave their mark on many old trees hollowing out some for owls, woodpeckers and the brave creatures of the wood. We don’t see them but we know they are watching…

 “I am never alone in the wild forest, this forest of elders - this forest of eyes.” Richard Nelson.

With the profusion of ravaged bark, the evidence was clear; a large bear had been scraping Western Red Cedar, dislodging rotting bark in search of ants achieving an 8’ reach.  We saw a porcupine and a bird carrying what appeared to be another bird in its talons. We lost count of the waterfalls we waded through on the trail; wear waterproof shoes or do the big leap.

This is a treacherous trail, not for children, elderly or those unsteady on their feet; that warning includes many dogs. Our Borzoi would careen herself right over the sheer cliff in the course of racing along in her joy on the narrow single track. Sadly a horse plunged to its death in an area under the waterfall where slippery shale lines the trail. 

We later learned, after posting this horrific picture on Face Book, that someone had let two horses go in the forest to fend for themselves over the hard winter projected for this year. After many comments in response to the picture of this horse, some other options emerged for caring for horses owners can no longer afford to feed. It was shocking, unforgettable and I hope to never see anything like this again.

Albert Einstein reminds us that “our task is to widen our circle of compassion to embrace all living beings and all of nature.” There is always a gentle option.

If you’d like to experience this hike, take Hwy 12 to Glenoma Road/Riffe Lake, turn right, go a few miles on the paved road; cross the fishing bridge and turn right. You will see the sign “4 ½ miles to Goat Creek”.

This is a slow trek in on a four wheel drive road with deep rutting and potholes and clearly worth the painstaking care it takes to traverse it

Once you enter this rich, complex visual tapestry of form and texture you will not return to the world outside this hallowed space unchanged. 

"The world is a sacred vessel” The Tao Te Ching

Books you might enjoy: Meditations of John Muir; Nature’s Temple and Native Ferns, Moss and Grasses by William Cullina