Cougar Mountain and the Sun

Once upon a time in Seattle, the sun came out.  Seems kind of “fairy-tale-ish” right now, but I have pictures to prove it.  Even though there were only four of us at home for the weekend, we decided to go exploring and find a new trail to hike.

Cougar Mountain is a hefty stone’s throw from the Seattle Temple, and on an early Saturday morning when the rest of Seattle would hopefully be sleeping, it would only be a 30-minute drive from home.

We wound up the side of Cougar Mountain until we had a beautiful view of the Cascade Mountain Range to the west, and finally found signs leading to the Sky Country Trailhead.  Unfortunately, we were not the only ones awake on Cougar Mountain. 

We just happened to hit the jack pot. 

Great -- possibilities of ending up as road kill on a not so isolated mountain road . . .

There were so many trails you could take all over the mountain that it required a map and the smarts to be able to read it.   I stuck with the camera—which, in a pinch, could also be used as a weapon should we happen to meet any of the wild animals who call this place home.

With as many runners as there must have been on the mountain that morning, they were confined to just a certain trail, so we actually only had to hug the right side of the road for a short stretch of time when incoming traffic behind us became pretty constant.

The trail we chose had the benefit of leading past Coal Creek Falls and away from the runners.

 

 

Jim has decided that the falls MUST be conquered.  No matter that every rock  in sight is covered in moss making the way up the slippery side of the mountain treacherous at best.

He and Marci are partway up and talk Jamie into joining them at least that far.

 

 

Now he’s looking for the best way clear to the top of the falls.  Maybe he’s also considering if his life insurance policy is up-to-date, and how I will provide for the family if he doesn’t happen to make it back.

Misery loves company and Marci followed him clear to the top. 

I’m not sure if I was more excited about seeing the berries, the sun on the leaves, or just something back on solid ground.

 

It was a beautiful hike, a great work out, and a marvelous view of Mt. Rainier from the Food Court at Southcenter Mall where we stopped on the way home for lunch.  We all gave the hike 8 thumbs up and decided we would do it again—only next time with the rest of the family.

“And They Cut Down The ‘Old’ Pine Tree, TIMBER!”

The object of this post happens to be the cute little pine tree just to the right of Marci and Jamie in this picture taken eight years ago on the occasion of Marci teaching Jamie to ride her bike.  Every day, as Jamie and I had walked Marci to the school bus stop, we had passed this little tree sitting unplanted behind someone’s back fence.  When we finally asked the lady that lived there what her plans for the tree were, she said they had no room for the tree and would love to get rid of it.   We decided to adopt the little pine, and called it Marci’s tree because it was about her height.

The cute little pine tree was very happy out front and grew and grew, but after only eight short years it wasn’t so cute any more.  It sort of took over the whole front yard and wasn’t very good about sharing with the other trees that were struggling to get what they needed.  The time had come to say “goodbye.”

Jim was just thrilled Saturday morning when he learned what was on his agenda for the day.  He was even more thrilled when he finally got his chain saw working and found that it was too dull to cut the wood and that it would take a week to get it sharpened.  His delight increased when he couldn’t find the axe, realized both hatchets couldn’t cut butter and all he had to work with was a buck saw that kept getting “stuck” in the tree.  (He had a more technical term, but I can’t remember what it was.)  Nevertheless, this is a man that doesn’t give up easily.

After taking off a lot of the lower branches, he and Devin worked it out so that while one worked the saw, the other would hang on the tree making it easier for the saw to cut through the wood. 

I might add that this is a good workout for a 50-plus-year-old man, as it uses many muscle groups that don’t normally get used.

“TIMBER!!!”

Then came the fun part of  the song where “they hauled it away to the mill.”  They had to cut off all the branches, then cut the tree into firewood lengths that we could store to use next year when we go camping.

If you look at his face upside down, the grimace turns into a very big smile.

I already know what kind of tree I would like to replace the pine with, but we won’t talk about that until someone’s sore muscles aren’t complaining any more and this all becomes a fond memory.

For Our Tomorrow, They Gave Their Today

For Memorial Day, Jim was very anxious that we do something as a family to remember those who have given their lives that we might have freedom.  He did a little searching on the internet and found that there are only 139 National Cemeteries in the whole United States – none in Utah or Idaho, and  only one in Washington.  We happened to live within a half hour of the Tahoma National Cemetery.

   “The National Cemetery honors veterans with a final resting place and lasting memorials that commemorate their service to our nation.”

“

 It was an inspiring experience to walk through the cemetery and read many of the inscriptions on the headstones and see which war or wars the soldiers had served in.  There were soldiers who had served in Iraq and had died in the last couple of months.

 We noticed that there was usually a religious symbol at the top of the headstone.  We even saw some with the Angel Moroni. 

 For Memorial Day, every headstone had an American Flag placed in front of it, and there were beautiful red, white and blue flower arrangements all over the place.

  One walk took us around the back where we were able to read memorials to different soldiers.  This one was to soldiers in the Battle of the Chosin Reservoir in Korea in 1950.  It made me think about my Dad who served in Korea. 

 We were very fortunate to be able to have Lincoln with us for the weekend – hair and all.

 

 This “Prisoner of War – Missing in Action” flag reminded me of the Prisoner of War bracelet that I wore as a teenager in the 70’s with the name of Captain Robert Davis and the date 3-23-69 engraved on it.  I still have it.  I have always wondered what ever became of Captain Davis. 

Update:  I just went searching on-line through the Library of Congress POW/MIA Database and actually found out what did happen to Capt. Robert Davis.  Here is part of what I discovered.  (Notice the date of 23 March 1969 is the date on my bracelet.)

There are further reports that in 1995, a joint US/Laos team was able to go back in several times to the crash site and positively identify the remains of the A-26 aircraft that they had flown and stated that Capt. Robert Davis and Capt. James Widdis were in the aircraft at impact.

 

 Not all the red, white and blue reminders were patriotic.  This was just a plain old reminder of something he wants but doesn’t have.

Dallin came home for the Memorial Day Weekend.  I wondered if he felt any differently walking through a cemetery dedicated to veterans than he did before he got involved with the military.

 I’m very grateful Jim took the initiative to help us remember.   He was also able to make it the focus of our family home evening lesson Monday night. This will have to become another one of those worthwhile Walton Family Traditions.  It surely filled us with a great sense of gratitude for the incredible sacrifice of life that so many have made on our behalf.

All that we can know about those we have loved and lost is that they would wish us to remember them with a more intensified realization of their reality. . .  The highest tribute to the dead is not grief but gratitude.”   –Thornton Wilder