If I had known the weather was going to be so amazing on April 12, I would have gone skydiving. But since spring weather in Seattle is so unpredictable, we didn’t want to risk it. Our plans to go hiking turned into tentative plans for paintballing (in case of inclement weather), and then to snowshoeing when we realized the trail we chose was still full of snow. I’m still in awe of the sun and warmth we had on Saturday–it was the most amazing day weather-wise all year, and it just happened to be on the weekend we chose to be outside. Perfect, I tell ya. Just perfect.

The road leading up to the trailhead was snowy, so we parked about 1/4 mile from the trailhead and strapped on our snowshoes. But as soon as we reached the trailhead, the snow melted and we were snowshoeing on dirt. What the heck?! It was funny, but still–we came for the snow–we wanted snow! Fortunately, someone coming down the trail told us they turned around because the snow was too deep. YES! Finally, about 3/4 mile into the trail, we got to put our snowshoes back on.

There were only four of us making the 2-mile journey that seemed to be much longer than that. It took us 3 hours to get to our destination–Heather Lake. The last 1/4 mile was strenuous, with threats of “If we don’t get there soon, I’m going to…” without knowing how to finish it. We surely weren’t going to turn around after having gone so far.

But once we reached the top, it was all good. The forest opened up to a clearing where Heather Lake was covered with soft mounds of snow, curving into each other. Around the lake were some trees, and in the background rose a mountain (see picture below, although it doesn’t do the real thing justice!). We ran into two guys who made the trek without snowshoes. Brave souls. Their pants were wet up to their thighs, having sunk into the snow so deeply with each step. They must have been exhausted after pulling themselves out of several feet of snow so often.

When they left, it was just the four of us. All I could think of was peace. Serenity. Quiet. The only sounds were birds chirping (quietly), and the occasional snowfall off the mountainside, giving off the sound of how I imagine a mini-avalanche to sound. After eating my lunch, I dug my body deeper into my snow “recliner” and laid down. “Don’t get too comfortable, we still have to hike down, you know,” warned Matt. But once I laid down, everyone else followed–and we napped for about 30 minutes. Nothing else could put you to sleep faster than being under the sun. We all woke up around the same time, looking at each other, smiling, feeling completely refreshed. No one else had come up to our little paradise while we were asleep.

Later that night, my quads and hamstrings absolutely ached and burned, even without my stretching or moving them. I rubbed Bengay all over my legs and slept with ice packs tucked between my legs and the bed. I felt like an old woman. 30 didn’t seem so bad when we were snowshoeing, but the aftereffects were pretty painful. But overall, 30 ain’t so bad. :)