[Quark]

I’m on borrowed time folks. I cardinal sinned all weekend. One, I had no topo map and no water filter. Two, I didn’t tell anyone where I was going. Three, and most worst - I hiked the woodlands in cotton britches. They are Carhartts, but cotton nonetheless. Cotton Kills, you know. The reason I didn’t let anyone know where I was going is ‘cause I didn’t even know myself, til I got there. Well, not even then, really: I had to wait to come home to check the topo maps to find out where I had been. It’s an Opposite Trip: Go first, consult map later. I was just out bumming around. I took Road 7240 just N of Swauk Pass. The Washington Gazetter shows it links up with a trail system that heads to Tronson Ridge, a trip which I had earmarked once but have never done. I drove it ‘til I hit solid snow, strapped on my backpack, then post-holed about ½ mile to the roads end where I picked up a snow-free trail signed “Tronson Mdw.” I hit a fork in the trail, both trails are unsigned. Up and south slope is always the name of the game in early spring, so that’s where I went. About an hour later, I hit solid snow and it looked like the trail headed up to a snow-covered saddle. I harrumphed around a bit, and decided to turn back and pitch camp at some flat spots in the woods I had passed. But lo! Right there, with no effort at all, I saw to my left a straight swath in the woodlands, headed straight up a sunny slope to a bald knob. The swath was practically glowing! And I swear I heard angels beckoning, too. If this is how cotton does it to you, I’m all for it! So I huffed up and there I found a perfect site under a big old Hemlock with views of Mt Stuart et al at my front stoop. If my mapping is correct, I was directly North of and looking at Diamond Head, shown on the Washington Gazetteer (my computer drags on Topo so I don’t have access to it today). Great spot, mostly snow-covered meadows. What a strange mixture of plantlife – all mixed up in one little area were sagebrush, hemlock fir, pine trees and larches. I had a lot of time on my hands and poked around the area a bit, but not too much – there was a lot of chossy, friable snow out there just waiting to eat me. Since I wore cotton into the woodlands, I figured was living on borrowed time in the first place and decided not to flaunt fate, and spent the day laying around the sunny and warm camp and reading. There were coyotes, too! Lots of them! I didn’t hear them at all during the night. When they started up their siren at about 7 AM today, they sounded real close – I figured I was probably parked in their fave spot – right there on their south-facing bald knob in early spring. They moved further away and howled at me off and on for about an hour. One did come back later to howl at me again, in case I missed his message the first time. I got back to the rig early, and decided to drive historic Old Blewett Hwy. I wasn’t sure if it had been cleared yet this year, and if I hit heavy snow, there’s nowhere to turn around up there - but I figured since I had worn cotton in the woodlands I was living on borrowed time anyway, and death is probably right around the corner - Old Blewett may as well be cotton’s vehicle. Old Blewett has been cleared, but as always there were fresh rocks all over the place and you have to do some dodging around a bit. I can’t believe I used to pop the top off my car and drive up there, something I’d never do now. I learned triangulation in math class since then: what you do is, you look at the rocks laying on the road right where your car should be. Then you look up at the crumbling cliffs from whence they fell. Then you look at your convertible car. Then you do the math and come up with – “man, I ain’t drivin’ no road with no friable rock crashin’ around with no convertible car.” Unless cotton gets into your head and makes you do it. All you gotta do in order to live a long life is: Be smarter than cotton.

Stuart

[Allison]

Sounds like there was a lot of snow around too. I've heard the stuff can be extremely dangerous, but I don't know first-hand, because I've never actually seen snow.

[Backpacker Joe]

If a Quark falls down in the woods, gives a yelp, and there's nobody around to hear does she make a sound? TB

[Slugman]

That depends on whether or not she lives to write a trip report. Cotton may kill, but dead men tell no tales, nor dead wimmin, neither!

[Alan Bauer]

Quark--I know exactly where you were. Nice find since we all know the best stuff is found if you ignore the maps! Hint: return to this same entire area around the first week of June and be treated to one of the best, most diverse wildflower bonanzas you've ever seen on the east slopes of the Cascades!

[Quark]

[Newt]

Quark, The Cotton Covered Snow Hunter. She lives to tell the story.

[Quark]

I'm telling you, man, don't wear cotton in the woodlands! Once you have done it, you're done for. You just don't know when or how you'll be tagged. If you survive that day, and even the next, wellsir, what about those following days? It's after me. I'm telling you it's sheer hell. It's a life of paranoia. You never know when you'll get hit. I feel like those gun-toters in that other thread from a few months ago: I'm constantly peering around corners before I turn them (I designed and created a series of mirrors on telescoping poles to help me in this). I'm suspicious of all bus drivers. And you can't tell me that that wrecking-ball on 2nd & Virginia is aimed at that old building. That just so happens to be MY bus stop. Co-incidence you say? Ha! I know the store clerk was trying to memorize my address on my checkbook today, but guess what, Mr. Cotton - I mean Mr. Storeclerk - I have a bogus address on ALL my checks and I.D. cards. Find me, you say? I think not!

[Newt]

Don't be runnin scared Quark. Maybe string some garlic and throw it around your neck. Take some time off and camp in a dark closet for a couple days. It may help. If all else fails, consider a seance. Newt

[jimmymac]

[jenjen]