MT. BAKER-SNOQUALMIE NATIONAL FOREST, WA:
It was an early Sunday morning, a day that held a special kind of weight—it was Mother’s Day. As I set out on my journey, my heart was heavy with thoughts of our children, who are navigating the rocky terrain of what this day may mean for them now and in the future. I know it’ll take time, but I believe they’ll carve out their own paths to honor their mother, finding ways to make the day meaningful with their memories. I tucked our final family photo from last Mother’s Day into my backpack, a poignant reminder of the love we all shared. Since Kelly’s passing, every day has felt similar to Mother’s Day, filled with an ever-present appreciation for the extraordinary woman who shaped the lives of everyone in our family. With the sun still low, I began my drive at 5:00 a.m., allowing thoughts of my own mother to guide me along the way, enveloping me in gratitude as I savored the peaceful stillness of the morning drive.
The trip up Chinook Pass Highway (HWY 410) to the Palisades Trailhead was a breeze, just over an hour—a mere warm-up compared to the three-hour haul to my last waypoint. This week, I felt a mix of excitement and nerves, as I had chosen a trail that promised to be both challenging and rewarding. I like to listen to Kelly’s playlist when I’m driving to a new waypoint, and today, as I approached those last few miles, it happened. “I’ll Be Singing” by Sinéad O’Connor began to play, and the opening lines struck me like they never had before: “Climb until your legs are weary. Climb until your heart grows numb. Climb because you love me dearly.” Those words resonated as if Kelly was singing them herself, and it became my inspiration for the day. I parked my car on the side of the highway in the Mt. Baker-Snoqualmie National Forest and prepared for the 10.8-mile out-and-back trek, a climb of 2,270’ elevation gain that would take me just under six hours.
The Journey…
As I stepped onto the trail, it wasted no time in leading me upward toward the Dalles Creek Lower Falls. The path then continued on to the upper falls, and after I found my rhythm on the upper Palisades Trail, heading toward North and South Snoquera Points. My turnaround point awaited me at the next viewpoint, nearly 5.5 miles in, where the trail crested over the ridge at a 4,357’ elevation, offering a breathtaking view that made every step worth it. The journey unfolded with a delightful mix of terrain—lush forests, winding trails of rock, roots, creeks, charming bridges, gorgeous falls, and those stunning views that took my breath away, but perhaps my fear of heights helped with that as well! Each step felt like a tribute, not just to the beauty that surrounded me, but also fueling my gratitude and the thought that I selected to ponder today: Time.
Gratitude…
Today, it felt only fitting to take a moment to reflect on one of the most influential women in my life—my mom. With it being Mother’s Day, I can’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for everything she’s done for me, my brother, and our families. If you know my mom, you’ll agree that she’s anything but your stereotypical “cookie-cutter mom,” and that’s what makes her special and why I love her. Growing up, while some moms might have been focused on ensuring their kids were in the best positions on every sports team or winning accolades for even the modest of achievements, my mom had a different mission: nurturing my individuality and shaping my character. She always encouraged me to embrace who I truly am, rather than trying to fit into someone else’s mold.
One of the things I admire most about my mother is her unfiltered honesty. She never sugarcoated anything. When it came to character and integrity, she made sure I understood the importance of being true to myself, even when it was difficult. She has a way of presenting the hard truths that makes you think and grow, rather than just accepting things at face value. On the other hand, when it came to storytelling, my mom had a knack for weaving tales that were often more entertaining than true. Her stories—sometimes exaggerated, but always engaging—taught me the magic of creativity and imagination. It’s these very qualities that have shaped the way I approach life. Thanks to her, I’ve learned to navigate the world with a sense of humility, curiosity, a sprinkle of creativity, and a heart full of compassion.
I couldn’t help but think back to all those moments with my mom that opened my eyes to the world around me. She took my brother and I to places where every walk of life came together, which many times was as close as her place of business, and each person’s uniqueness was celebrated and viewed as a strength. It was her way of showing us that there are no filters that should rank people based on their differences; instead, that we must embrace those differences and learn from them, celebrate them. I also remember the times she’d go over my English papers. She wasn’t one to hold back; her red pen would fly across the page, marking every mistake, and she wasn’t as concerned about my feelings when she knew my first draft was always the half-assed version! She didn’t say “This isn’t your best work,” or even “good work” for that matter, but her face would, and it stung a bit, but deep down, I knew she was right. My mom is fiercely protective, always ready to fight for me if I’ve been wronged. There were even times when I found myself feeling empathy for the person that was in her crosshairs. It’s a strange feeling, but it showed me the depth of her compassion and how she truly believed in standing up for what’s right—a trait you will also find in my brother.
My mother has this incredible ability to shoulder my burdens without ever expecting anything in return. She embodies a true unconditional love, especially for those who are often overlooked or forgotten. Watching her, I’ve learned the value of hard work and that there’s always a right way to do things. My mom taught me to give selflessly, to help others without seeking recognition. She demonstrated that true compassion is about action—not just words. It’s in the little things, like how she always takes the time, putting herself out, to lend a hand to someone in need without a second thought. When someone needs her, she doesn’t flinch, or even think, as if to send the message that she’s evaluating their cause or her next step—she just does. Through her, I’ve come to understand that people are more the same than they are different, and that being true to myself not only makes me a more interesting person but also allows me to connect with others on an authentic level.
I admire her relentless spirit and her resolve to lift those up who need it most. My mom never seeks praise, yet she deserves it wholeheartedly. As I travelled to my trailhead today, surrounded by a beautiful drive, I was reminded that just as every road has its twists, turns and hills, so too does life. My mom has been my steadfast guide, helping me navigate on-ramps, off-ramps, and turns with her unwavering support and love. Like my trusty trekking poles, she’s provided me with strength and stability, enabling me to explore the world with curiosity and creativity. Today, I’m filled with gratitude not just for the lessons she’s taught me, but for the way she’s shaped my journey. With each step, I carry with me, her influence—it’s the compass guiding me toward authenticity and compassion. So I celebrate her—not just today, but every day, wherever my journey leads, forever grateful for the incredible woman who raised me. If you know my mother—and my father too—you understand that I am the person I am today because of their unwavering love, strong values, and the guidance they’ve always provided.
Reflections…
As I laced up my hiking shoes and prepared to hit the trail, my thought to ponder today was inspired by words from Søren Kierkegaard: “Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.” These words echoed in my mind as I took to the trailhead, each step a reminder that the journey of life is a tapestry woven from the threads of our past, present, and future. Just like a winding trail, life has its ups and downs, moments of breathtaking views, and stretches that feel monotonous. Today, I’m carrying with me the weight of contemplation about ‘time’—a concept that often feels fluid and elusive, much like the changing scenery on my hikes. I breathe in the crisp air, and the beautiful yet haunting melody of Pink Floyd’s “Time” begins to play in my thoughts, transporting me to a place where the lyrics resonate deeply with my experiences. If you’re wondering, it was the vinyl version playing in my head, with that imperfect, yet perfect, crackling sound.
The lyrics to “Time” are filled with poignant reflections that feel like an invitation to explore the three distinct phases of my life: the endless seasons of youth, the bustling days of raising a family, and the reflective moments that come with looking back at the trails I’ve traversed. With each step forward, I can’t help but ruminate on how time has shaped my journey. It stretches and contracts, sometimes feeling like a gentle breeze against my face, and at other times like a heavy weight in my backpack. Today’s hike is not just a physical journey; it’s an exploration of how I perceive time and the myriad experiences that have colored my life. As I wander up through the trees, I anticipate the reflections that await me, and I’m grateful for the opportunity to ponder the depth of this thought, inspired by both Kierkegaard and, ironically, the ‘timeless’ lyrics of Pink Floyd.
I can almost hear the echoes of Kelly’s laughter within the trees awaiting my ascent. “Let’s put on some Pink Floyd,” she never said, but I know she felt the pulse of their music in her soul, just like I do. Or, at minimum, appreciated that I do. The moment the early lyrics from David Gilmour flow—“Tired of lying in the sunshine, staying home to watch the rain”—I’m transported back to those carefree days of our youth, where time stretched out like an endless trail ahead of us. I remember our ‘camping’ trips to Crescent Bar (Columbia River, Quincy, WA) with the usual suspects, where, despite the tight budget, we created our own little sanctuary in the grass (and tree). By sanctuary, I mean a virtual pop-up ‘party’ town with all the elements for an enjoyable extended weekend.
Those were the good ol’ days (a phrase my teen self would cringe at), where every moment felt like a long, lazy afternoon, the kind that wraps around you like a warm embrace with no clocks, and certainly no phones or social media. Our technology consisted of our boom box and a bag full of D-size batteries. That world felt vast and inviting, as if we could wander forever without a care in the world. Life was rich back then, not in material wealth but in adventure, laughter, and love—innocently unscared by the trials of life to come. Each day unfolded like a new trail, full of promise and potential. We were explorers in our own right, mapping out dreams under a canopy of stars, our hearts light with the thrill of what was yet to come. In those moments, time wasn’t something to be measured; it was something to be savored, like the gentle breeze that whispers through the trees, reminding us of the beauty in simply being.
As I trekked along the ridge with endless viewpoints, I couldn’t help but think about our whirlwind of family milestones—marriage, kids, sports, music, roadtrips, and the beautiful chaos that came with it all. It felt like I was on a fast-moving river, racing downstream, always paddling toward the next bend. “And then one day you find ten years have got behind you. No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun.” Those lyrics from Pink Floyd echoed in my mind, striking a chord deep within me. In the midst of that hustle, it was all too easy to lose sight of the present moment. We were so busy building a future, climbing each path, and navigating the twists and turns of life that I sometimes forgot to pause and take in the view.
Each day was a new ascent, filled with responsibilities and dreams, but I realized that in the midst of the climb, I was at times missing the small, beautiful details—the laughter and banter that echoed through our home, the quiet moments we shared on the couch or in the car, the simple joy of watching our children’s lives unfold right in front of us, and our conversations and dreams transforming to the next trail to be travelled. As I stood on that ridge overlooking the view of places I had just been earlier this morning, I reflected on how life looks different from this vantage point, from the summit of experience. Those fleeting moments I thought I had overlooked weren’t regrets; instead, they were gentle nudges, reminders to treasure the little ‘everyday’ pieces of the journey—the sun rising over the mountain, the sound of laughter echoing in the distance, the warmth of a hand held tightly in mine. Just like each step on this trail leads to new discoveries, so too do the moments in our lives, inviting us to savor the beauty of now, even in the midst of the rush.
The final notes of the song began to fade, but not before the line, “The time is gone, the song is over, thought I’d something more to say,” hit me like a sudden gust of wind as I descended down the trail. It’s funny how a hike can be a metaphor for life—sometimes the path stretches out endlessly in front of me, while at other moments, I find myself looking back, wondering where all those miles went. Reflecting on Kelly’s last days, I find myself at a crossroads of emotions. We had hopes and dreams that, like trails not taken, didn’t quite lead us where we thought they would. Yet, as I stand at this waypoint on my journey, I realize that I wouldn’t change a single thing.
Our adventures together, even during the rocky terrain of her cancer, were marked by authenticity, beauty and love, and for that, my heart brims with gratitude. This week, as I navigate the twists and turns of my thoughts, I carry the weight of time like my backpack, filled with memories of Kelly. Each moment shared is a stepping stone on this winding path. I’m learning to embrace every part of this journey—welcoming the steep climbs and the unexpected dips, savoring each step, each breath. Ah, breathe… this takes me to my final lyric from the same album on track one, “Breathe, breathe in the air. Don’t be afraid to care. Leave, but don’t leave me. Look around and choose your own ground. For long you live and high you fly. And smiles you’ll give and tears you’ll cry. And all you touch and all you see. is all your life will ever be.” This is a song about appreciating life.
I descended out to the trailhead from where I started, reflecting on the journey I had just traversed, understanding that every step taken, whether uphill or down, was part of a greater path—one that winds through joy, sorrow, love, and loss. Like a rugged trail, loss can be overwhelming to navigate. There are days when the weight of it feels unbearable, like a steep ascent that tests my resolve. Yet, I found strength in my memories of Kelly, her smile tucked away in my mind, her laughter lingering through the trees, guiding me through the twists and turns, lifting each foot for the next step.
It’s becoming more and more clear to me that it’s not about erasing my pain, but rather about carrying it with me, allowing it to shape the person I am becoming. Kierkegaard’s words echo once again in my mind, “Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.” It’s a beautiful paradox that encourages me to honor our past while embracing the present. Reflections from “Time” remind me that life unfolds one step at a time, and every step on the trail is just as important as the one before it, and the one after it. Each hike reminds me that life is about the moments we create, the love we share, and the memories that linger long after the song has ended. I like to think Kelly is peaceful at “The Great Gig in the Sky.” And so, I walk on, grateful for the journey, ready to savor each moment, and each breath, as I navigate this intricate tapestry of life. The path continues.
-Ken
- Mount Baker Snoqualmie National Forest, WA
- 47° 2′ 56.59644″ -121° 34′ 12.06788″
- 10.8 miles | 2,270 elevation gain | ~6 hours
- 43-54 degrees and clear
Musings 