Finn and I set off for Granite Mountain Sunday morning with four liters of water for the two of us, way more lunch than I could eat (I'm usually ravenous when I hike, but not this time), and not a speck of extra clothing (an oversight on my part, but I was way too hot to care). And, sans camera. But whatever, we all know what Mt Rainier looks like on a spectacular cloud-free summer day, right?
Eight miles round trip. Every single step out was uphill, and every single step back was down. Certainly an exercise in heel blistering and toe bashing. Ow. But great. Really great, actually. The top half of the trail is almost entirely exposed, sparse trees creating little oases along the way. On the way back down, Finn would plop his butt on the trail in these shade oases and refuse to move for several minutes. Once we were back into the forested lower portion of the trail, he trotted right along.
I am nearly as sore as I was after Mt St Helens last summer (ok, probably not even close, but it is reminiscent). Wait a minute... that too was eight miles... up... back.... view of mt rainier.... same old, same old....
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