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I had many things on my mind, but they're all dreary and hard to write, so I'll write instead about this weekend.

It was a delicious weekend. We went to Greenlake on Saturday and walked around the whole thing, taking a whole too many pictures of ducklings along the way.

On Sunday we drove the two hours to the Mt. Rainier national park. I'd borrowed my boss' year-round pass to go there, so naturally we were expecting some sort of gate or entrance. Instead we found our turn and a small sign next to the road which said "road closed." Figuring it couldn't be serious if they didn't actually close the road, we kept going. Up a gravel and dirt road, past precarious falls, one-lane bridges, and acres of logged forest, until twenty minutes later we were greeted by a gate across the road. No automobiles, said a sign. No dogs, said another. Nothing about no hikers. So we parked, got out of the car, went around the gate, and hiked up the road.

It was quiet and beautiful and just warm enough. Lady spotted a patch of snow on the side of the road.

She got excited, but I told her that that would be all the snow we'd probably see. Most of it should be melted by now, of course. We kept going, past a pretty wall and a number of tiny waterfalls, rounded a corner and promptly found out why the road was closed.

Yeah. That might do it. It was around then that we also pulled out the map for the park and spotted "open July-October" next to the road we were on. Oops. Minus one for reading comprehension. Still, I don't think all that snow is going to be gone by Wednesday. It started out a foot or so deep but a mile or so later was five feet deep in places. We only turned around when the road decided to go steeply up the side of the mountain.

On our way back, in the car, I also finally spotted the lurking volcano. Such a beautiful mountain.

September 2017

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