As we move into Phase 2 of Washington’s “Safe Start” plan, Valerie and I remain vigilant yet hopeful as our world reopens a bit. And there are some reasons for hope, too. Allow me to explain!
In 2011, my Evergreen faculty colleague Carolyn Dobbs asked me to assume leadership of the college’s summer internship program at Mount Rainier National Park. Carolyn was a staunch advocate of public lands, and she established the internships in the early 2000s to provide students with opportunities to work with park scientists and other staff. After she passed away, I renamed them the Carolyn Dobbs Mount Rainier Internships.
This week, I received great news from park aquatics ecologist Rebecca Lofgren, the program’s point-of-contact, that the internships will move forward this summer. Following CDC and Washington state guidelines, one student will assist the aquatics crew in a long-term alpine lakes study that surveys for amphibians while collecting and analyzing water samples. A second intern will staff the Paradise Wilderness Information Center, issuing climbing permits and patrolling the backcountry. Another will work remotely with the revegetation crew, with details still to be determined. In previous years, this intern assisted in GIS mapping, treatment and removal of invasive plants, and the installation of native plant plots. The fourth intern will be our first to work with the archaeology crew. Can you imagine working at excavations, recovering stone tool artifacts thousands of years old?
This is good news broadly, indicating that the park leadership team has set a course for a phased reopening. It includes an opening of the backcountry—as evidenced by the issuance of climbing permits. Visitor centers, campgrounds, and other lodging remains closed, with no opening dates in sight. In the meantime, a partial reopening of Mount Rainier National Park has opened Cayuse Pass and Washington State Route 123, clearing the way for hikes to Crystal Lakes, the East Side Trail, Owyhigh Lakes, Shriner Peak, the Three Lakes Trail, and others.
As people venture forth, the newly formed Washington State Coalition of Recreate Responsibly has laid out solid yet simple guidelines that encourage people to remain safe while enjoying the outdoors. I encourage you to check them out at https://www.recreateresponsibly.org/.
I took a break from Zoom webinar talks (details on upcoming presentations at https://jeffantonelis-lapp.com/events/) and other book-related deskwork to follow the guidelines and take my first Mount Rainier hike of the season. I chose the Shriner Peak Trail, which begins near mile marker 10 on SR 123 at about 2,400 feet in elevation. I figured I’d get at least a couple of miles up the trail before encountering heavy snow and having to turn back. I didn’t intend to make it to the lookout, one of four remaining in the park, at nearly 5,900 feet—it’s still winter/early spring up there!
Along the way, old friends greeted me, a pleasant reassurance that all is well in the forest these days. A trio of trilliums welcomed me at the trailhead. Three is their magic number, as the petals, sepals, and leaves make a pleasing symmetry. Called “wake robin” in regions where their appearance coincides with the return of American robins (although robins remain in the Puget Sound area year round because of our temperate climate), these spring harbingers are one of the few plants at Mount Rainier that depend on ants to spread their seeds. Ants prize the fleshy, fat and protein-rich lobes called elaiosomes attached to the seeds. They eat the elaiosomes or feed them to their larvae, and then cast the seeds off into refuse piles. Wherever the conditions are right, the seeds become the next generation of trilliums. Some Indian groups on the Pacific coast used trillium as love medicine, dropping the cooked bulbs into the food of someone sought as a love interest. Others told children not to pick them, for doing so would bring rain. They picked trilliums yesterday, apparently, because today is one rainy thunderstorm of a day!
Another friend, vanilla leaf, greeted me in lush carpets on the forest floor. My sense of smell is not great, so I’ve never been able to detect the pleasant scent that other people rave about. The dried leaves make a good air freshener, I’m told. Some Native Americans used vanilla leaf as an insect repellent while others made an infusion from the leaves and drank it as a treatment for tuberculosis.
At the turnaround point of my hike, I was enjoying a snack when another hiker came back down the trail. “I just wanted you to know that there’s a lovely view of Mount Rainier another tenth of a mile up the trail,” she said. “Thanks,” I replied, “but I’m enjoying the tip of the summit from here.” “Actually,” she said, “That’s Mount Adams, and those are the Goat Rocks to the left of it.” I should have known better—and I was so embarrassed! It just shows me one more time, that when I think I’m some kind of expert, that the Hammer of Humility cracks me on the noggin to set things straight.