Snow Queens, Synthyris Reniformis

Day 180: A wildflower of the low-elevation forest, Synthyris reniformis (Snow Queens) emerges in early to mid-Spring. Less than six inches tall, this plant's scalloped basal leaves and hairy stems are distinctive, as are its pale lavender flowers, each of which bears two purple-tipped stamens. In Pack Forest, it can be found growing in the disturbed soil at the edges of roads and trails.

Pack Forest Calypso

Day 179: After digging a 3' x 6' x 2' hole in my yard into which I inserted two enormous pots destined to hold tomato plants, you'd have thought I'd be too tired to do much else. The previous night when I'd gone to bed, I'd been thinking about devoting the day to Mourning Cloak hunting along "Butterfly Alley" in Pack Forest, but upon arising, gardening seemed the better option. Two hours later, hole dug and pots planted, I remembered I hadn't put out the mail. En route to the mailbox, a Comma (Green or Satyr, I couldn't tell) flew through my field of vision, begging me to follow. I took the hint, returned to the house and packed up for a five-mile walk even while questioning the prudence of the plan.

Pack Forest was busier than I've ever seen it, and everyone seemed to be headed for the Falls Trail, trying to escape the too-warm temperatures. Not me. Butterfly Alley is on the north portion of the 1000 Road. The 1000 intersects with the 2000 at Kirkland Pass, and the southern 1000 returns to the parking area. The two roads can be combined as a figure-8 loop hike, or the 1000 can be done as a loop all by itself. I figured if I was going up Butterfly Alley, I'd just continue over the top and back out the other way. I had great confidence in finding photo-worthy butterflies, but as it turned out, I saw only a couple of Cabbage Whites and a few small, nondescript moths of the sort which enjoy Coltsfoot flowers.

A botanist friend had written to me the day before to say that she had found Calypso Orchids at the site of the old Sunshine Point Campground at Mount Rainier. I have been monitoring the Longmire site, and knew that leaves were only just beginning to show. However, Pack Forest has a few Calypsos; in fact, one patch is only about half a mile beyond Kirkland Pass on the 2000 Rd. With the camera empty of butterflies, I decided to go Calypso hunting instead. Success lies in being able to change your plan on a moment's notice.

Pile O' Pack Forest Pilophorus

Day 2: The best part wasn't the nine-mile hike. It wasn't even the bagful of chanterelles I picked for my dinner. No, the thing which really had me excited was finding a pile o' Pilophorus in Pack Forest! It is the first time I have observed them outside the Park.

They're not easy to spot. The photo doesn't give you much for scale unless you're on a first-name basis with Douglas fir needles. Pilophorus' stalks are no larger than a pencil lead, about an inch long, and their pale green colour camouflages them extremely well. As a matter of fact, I have walked past this rock dozens of times and never noticed them. Today, I elected to walk the 2000 Rd. counterclockwise, and thus put myself in a position where the light was right. As always when I walk, my eyes were searching the hillsides for anything photo-worthy. I must have noted them subconsciously, because I was a few steps beyond them when I said aloud, "Wait a minute...was that Pilophorus?" Those of us who have spent much of our lives in wilderness do that...talk to ourselves...or to the rocks or the trees or the lichens or the little chirpy birds. Little black-tipped stalks beckoned, so I backtracked. Yes, there they were, a pile o' Pack Forest Pilophorus. Did I have my GPSr with me? Not a chance! Will I be able to find them again? You bet! I may forget whether a friend has a mustache or wears glasses, but I never forget a rock or tree, especially not when it's populated with one of my favourite lichens.

Pack Forest Surprise

Day 186: I had gone on a mission to Pack Forest about 10 AM and was coming back down from Windy Ridge, walking along the western portion of the 2000 Road with my eyes scanning the slope for a better example of Snow Queens than the ones I'd found near the trailhead. Suddenly, I saw something entirely unexpected: the bright magenta flags of two dozen or more Calypso Orchids on a steep embankment, so deep in shade that I had missed them altogether when I'd gone by an hour earlier. These are the first Calypsos I've seen outside Mount Rainier National Park. They have also emerged at Longmire and at Ohanapecosh, according to reports I've received, flowering there about a month earlier than normal.

Silver Fog

Day 114: Today I am making an exception to my unspoken rule restricting photos shot on a previous day. Why? Because I like photographing fog, and this was a "happy accident" shot yesterday in Pack Forest. I'd forgotten I had the camera set to black-and-white and was concerned that the sun would dispel the rays if I hesitated too long. Even so, the natural monochrome of the scene was such that it took me a second to realize what was missing in the recorded image, i.e., color. I reshot, but in the end, decided I liked the black-and-white version best.

My first experience with using a 35mm film camera came about when I was planning a backcountry trip to take my mother to the ranger station where her brother had served in the 1950s. I had always been reluctant to learn how to use a "real" camera, having grown up with a box Brownie and later a Polaroid Instamatic, but my husband was an accomplished photographer and convinced me to carry his Mamiya-Sekor on the trip after giving me a crash course in operating it. I returned home a week later with several rolls of exposed film, and many of the images were of fog winding amongst the trees or drifting over the lake. Thus my love of "fogtography" began.

Hiking in fog is a magical experience (at least when it's not so dense that you miss the ends of switchbacks as I've done on several occasions). Trees and shrubbery take on new dimensions as the fog accentuates their distance from other objects. Though blurred by mist, leaves stand apart from their fellows, separated by a gauze of ephemeral droplets. Familiar paths reform their curves and corners into mysterious new topographies. Distances shorten in the sight and lengthen in the mind, relativistically skewed in time and space by the playful wraiths of fog. Fog-walks are not to everyone's taste, their magic taking an eerie inflection with concealments and illusions, but those of us who know the fog-faeries delight in their innocent mischief and revel in their pranks. Fog is friendly. Fog is fun, and it gives us a hazy, dizzy new perspective on an otherwise mundane world.