Rainier

You can always tell a Mount Rainier rookie. You can’t tell him (or her) much, but you can always tell one, usually at a glance. They’re the folks who assume that weather in one part of the park is standard throughout. Sure. That makes as much sense as assuming that Mojave Desert temps are Xeroxes of Mount Whitney’s.

It may be clear, cloudless and 75 degrees at Ohana with blue puffs of benign breezes. However, Ohana’s elevation is 1,870 feet--significantly lower than most of Mount Rainier National Park. In fact, Ohana is where “clueless rookies” are lured into donning shorts, sandals and tank tops for a day trip through the park. A 30 minute drive up the serpentine coils of Stevens Canyon Road for some shutterbugging at Reflection Lakes—the most photographed spot in the part--and those shorts and tank tops aren’t quite as chic as they were 3,000 feet ago. At 4,865 feet, Reflection Lakes is still zipped into a thick collar of snow.

Typical conversation with a Rainier rookie at Reflection Lakes:

Rookie (with chattering teeth): “H-h-h-hey. Howzitg-g-g-goin’?”

Veteran (zipping up jacket): “Fine. You?"

Rookie: "G-g-g-g-reat."

Veteran: "Beautiful day, isn’t it?’

Rookie (turning blue): “Yeah. Wish I brought a jacket.”

Veteran: “This your first visit?”

The rookie nods, gratefully accepting a steaming cup of tea before dashing back into his vehicle as fast as his frostbitten feet can take him.

At this altitude the wind off The Mountain isn’t blue or benign—it’s white and biting. We inspect our favorite park trail, the Lakes High Loop, just long enough to pronounce it impassable. It’s buried beneath six feet of snow and we can barely discern its Reflection Lakes trailhead, let alone the rest of the path. We head back to the lakes where the boys romp in the snow just long enough to get thoroughly soaked. Diversions abound, wildlife included.

A red fox, partially clad in its winter coat, meanders onto the pavement and crunches a dead chipmunk just outside our van. Stern warnings to the boys against feeding the creature are reluctantly observed, although another glacial group of “rookies” pays no heed. Perhaps the $100 fine for feeding park animals can snag their attention.

Speaking of which, another sure-fire way to peg a Rainier rookie is watching them with “camp robbers.” Insatiable free loaders, these winged thieves shamelessly invade every Pacific Northwest camp site known to man and beast. Plump, dark-beaked and gray-feathered, these brazen bandits will make off with your entire campsite if you let them, hence their ubiquitous nickname.

Perched overhead on a hemlock bough, “camp robbers” (gray jays) survey their domain with the covert craftiness of a stealth fighter, scanning the environs for their next target. Rookie campers toss bread crumbs or lunch leftovers to “the pretty gray birds.” The next thing you know, every gray jay on the planet swoops out of the trees, dive bombing the hapless picnickers like a squadron of B-24s. It’s a scene right out of Hitchcock. That’s why Do Not Feed the Animals ranks right up there with the Ten Camping Commandments. These include, but are not limited to:

1. Thou shalt brush thy teeth and wash thy hands and face every morning and evening even if it kills you

2. If basic hygiene standards are not attempted on a daily basis and you expire as a consequence, that’s one less s’more to singe over tonight’s campfire

3. Thou shalt eat what is put in front of thee or traipse into the forest and kill thine own victuals

4. Road kill is not an acceptable source of animal protein

5. Thou shalt stay behind Dad on all trail hikes

6. If thou dost not remain behind Dad on all trail hikes, thy chances of becoming lunch for any wild creatures lurking about increase exponentially by the distance we are from the nearest help

7. Thou shalt not scatter to the four winds the moment the van’s engine is shut off and unloading is about to commence

8. Backpacks shall be carted all over creation by kids, NOT Mom

9. Thou art responsible for maintaining and monitoring thine own snack and water consumption on any hike; miscalculations do not entitle thee to sponge off thy wiser brother’s stash

10. Moms have first dibs on the shower upon arrival home. Violate this commandment and thy life span shall be significantly shortened.

Hmmm. Maybe we should add a few imperatives for Rainier Rookies: Read the National Park Service (NPS) brochure, invest in a good map, and for heaven’s sake, don’t forget your jacket!

Chris and Kristine

Story ID:	603
Written by:	Kristine L. (bio, link, contact, other stories)
Story type:	Travel
Location:	wa wa usa
Year:	2006