I remember going on a hike several years ago with a good friend who was more experienced at hiking than I was. He chose a challenging local trail that led to the top of Cougar Mountain and promised me that, although the hike would be tough, the view from the top would be worth it.
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“We’ll be able to see for miles,” he promised, and I agreed to go.
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I put on my sneakers and packed a backpack full of snacks and a CamelBak full of water.
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We met at the trailhead and did a gear check.
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Water? Check!
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Sunscreen? Check!
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Phone? Check! ( I knew there’d be limited service to call out, but I also knew I’d want to take pictures.)
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Hiking poles? Check! (Were they really necessary? I asked myself.) I collapsed them and put them in my pack.
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We locked our cars, and he leashed his big white dog. He was more fired up than we were to get started.
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We began walking up along the dense, wooded trail. The dog tugged, and we hurried to keep up, noticing the chill from the shaded incline. It was already cooler, and the air smelled like the majestic evergreens that swayed in the breeze. Our chit-chat subsided, and we fell into a single-file line – the dog in the lead, my friend in the middle, and me bringing up the rear.
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The trail was dusty but well-maintained, and I noticed a patch of pink foxgloves on the hillside displaying their spotted tubular blooms. I looked up to see the blue sky beyond the canopy of trees and stopped to take a picture. I inhaled deeply and relaxed. It was going to be a great day!
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After about 90 minutes, the sun started to climb higher in the sky, and our tree cover opened up to a level meadow. We paused to take off our backpacks, have a sip of water, and let the dog lie down to rest.
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We each grabbed a snack. I released my lower back by bending over and swinging from side to side. Freshly fueled and rehydrated, we continued onto the next leg of the trail, which appeared to go straight up. There were large rocks embedded in the trail, and I slipped and twisted my ankle, prompting me to sit along the trail and pull off my shoe to take a closer look. Then I remembered the walking sticks I had in my backpack and decided they might come in handy. I was frustrated.
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I climbed slowly, ensuring that my feet made good contact with the ground, thinking it might be a good idea to give up the opportunity for the perfect view and begin our descent. But then my friend reminded me why we came. He looked me square in the face and said, “You can do it. You go ahead, and I’ll go behind, and we’ll make it to the top together.”
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He was right. I was tired, and my ankle was sore, but I’d regret it if we turned around now. We didn’t come this close to the top of the mountain to miss that view.
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We continued, and eventually, we reached the top. The sun was shining. Mount Rainier was in view, and at that moment, I was grateful for a friend who had invited me and motivated me to make it to the top. It was worth every step!







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