Spruce Railroad Trail: A Lake Crescent Sunrise Hike

Arched footbridge over the blue-green Devil's Punchbowl on the Spruce Railroad Trail at Lake Crescent, with snow-dusted Olympic peaks across the water in morning light.

OLYMPIC NATIONAL PARK, WA:

This morning, as dawn began to unfold along the Spruce Railroad Trail at Lake Crescent, I found myself enveloped in an atmosphere of serene anticipation. The air was crisp, with low fog draping the hills like a soft blanket. Each step I took felt like a gentle awakening, a reminder of the beauty that lies in the journey of life. The trail, once a railway for transporting strong, lightweight spruce wood used in WWI airplanes, is now a canvas for my reflections. Each twist, turn, bridge, and tunnel mirrors the labyrinth of thoughts I carry. Today, I set out with a singular purpose: to sit with kindness, to honor my father’s enduring legacy, and to take in the stillness of nature that feeds my spirit. Hiking beside the Devil’s Punchbowl, I felt the life around me stir a sense of reflection and gratitude.

As I walked the tranquil surroundings, my mind wandered to the deep influence my father had on my life, even after his passing. The quiet roads I drove this morning echoed the stillness in my heart, allowing memories of him to surface like the promise of sunlight breaking through the clouds. I recalled standing in front of friends and family at his Celebration of Life, sharing a simple yet powerful truth: his kindness shaped my life and everyone fortunate enough to know him. His presence at my 8th-grade track meet stays etched in my memory, a reminder of the importance of showing up for one another. Each memory another reason for gratitude, moments of love and support that still light my path as I move through life.

With every step along the lake, I thought about the meaning of kindness, something that sits deep with me. Today’s trail-thought guided my reflections, urging me to look at the difference between kindness and niceness. As I stood by a small cascading waterfall, its gentle murmur harmonizing with the songs of waking birds, I realized that kindness grows from empathy, while niceness is often cloaked in a desire for approval. In embracing kindness, I aim to nurture not only the spirits of others but also my own. As I continued my hike, I felt aligned with purpose, eager to share these reflections in this journal entry, my memoir of gratitude, capturing how nature’s beauty and the power of kindness came together through these musings.

The Journey…

This morning, I set out on the Spruce Railroad Trail at Lake Crescent, a hidden gem nestled in Olympic National Park. The air was crisp, and low fog loomed in the mountain’s foothills like a soft blanket as I turned onto the path. Originally a railway for logging, this trail helped build WWI aircraft, using the strong, lightweight wood of spruce trees. As I crossed the first bridge, the chill of dawn settled in, wrapping around me like a cool embrace. Each breath filled my lungs with the earthy scent of damp moss and ferns, promising a new adventure ahead. The anticipation of sunrise danced in my mind while I made my way through the shadows, eager to witness the world awaken.

About a mile in, I took a spur trail around the first tunnel, drawn by the allure of the Devil’s Punchbowl. This quaint nook nestled in the rocks revealed itself as a hidden sanctuary, connected by a charming bridge. As I approached, the water glimmered with hues of deep blue and green, cradled in the rocky embrace. I paused, taken by the colors and the gentle sound of the water lapping against the stones. The tranquility enveloped me, and I felt a sense of harmony with the natural beauty surrounding this enchanting spot. As I took a few moments to soak it all in, the Punchbowl reminded me how nature tucks small wonders into unexpected places.

As I walked along the trail, the gentle sound of water trickling down the hillside rocks accompanied me, soothing my thoughts. The second bridge came into view, the trail flanked by ancient trees draped in moss, their gnarled branches reaching out like welcoming arms. I paused to capture the essence of this tranquil morning, despite the darkness. About three-quarters of a mile in, a quaint waterfall cascaded nearby, its gentle murmur harmonizing with the chirps, whistles, and songs of waking birds. The air was filled with the promise of dawn, and I felt the magic of nature enveloping me. I marveled at the fallen trees, remnants of recent storms, their presence a reminder of nature’s power, yet this morning felt peaceful, a moment suspended in time.

Gratitude…

As the darkness of the morning accompanied me on my drive, the quiet roads reflected the stillness in my heart, allowing me to sink into my thoughts. This week, my gratitude was directed toward my father. Even after his passing, a couple of years ago now, his warmth continues to illuminate my memories like the first light of dawn breaking over the horizon. At his Celebration of Life, I shared how he left behind a legacy of kindness and the comforting assurance that “it’s going to be alright.” In that moment, I felt love and loss come together, reminding me of the deep impact he had on all of us.

One memory that stands out is from an 8th-grade track meet (circa 1981), where I was running the last leg for our school’s relay team. My father, often tied up with work, was rarely able to attend my after-school events, yet on that day, as I lined up at my mark, I caught sight of him in the stands, standing there, in a sea of seated spectators, his eyes locked on me, steady with support. I didn’t need to ask him to be there; he understood the significance of that moment without a spoken word. I can’t recall my sprint or even the baton exchange, but I do remember running faster than ever, fueled by his presence, breaking the ribbon at the finish line. His ability to show up, to understand the importance of being there, is a kindness that still propels me forward in life.

Reflections…

This morning’s hike along the calm Lake Crescent trail settled something in me. The crisp air wrapped around me like a gentle embrace, and with each step, the weight of the holiday week began to dissipate. Today’s trail-thought was focused on “kindness,” a word that sits deep with me, especially when I think of my father’s enduring legacy. As I strolled beside the crystal-clear water, I felt his spirit guiding me, reminding me of the warmth and love he shared during his lifetime. Each breath I took seemed infused with memories of him, coloring my thoughts with gratitude and reflection.

It’s been a couple of years since I lost my father, yet his warmth and kindness continue to illuminate my thoughts. Caring for Kelly through her illness during his final weeks felt like balancing on a suspension bridge, my emotional capacity stretched thin. I found solace in self-compassion, trusting that my heart would guide me. At his Celebration of Life, I stood before friends and family, speaking from the depths of my heart about the gift he left us all: the steady assurance that “it’s going to be alright.” Each word felt like a step forward, grounding me in the love that still surrounds us.

When I shared a single word that encapsulated my father’s essence, “kind” emerged without hesitation. This wasn’t a simple label. It was a true measure of a trait that was part of who he was. I posed a challenge to anyone present: find a moment when he wasn’t kind. Silence enveloped the room, a powerful reminder of his unyielding spirit. Kindness, I realized, is not trivial or superficial; it’s a complex yet beautifully simple expression of genuine intent, rooted deeply in our hearts rather than in the accolades we might seek, or conflicts we hope to avoid, when being “nice.”

As I hiked, I found myself reflecting on a memory from a trip Kelly and I took to Atlanta. One evening, as we walked back from dinner, we passed a gentleman who had clearly been living on the streets for some time. While most hurried by, seemingly oblivious, Kelly engaged him in conversation. Through their exchange, we learned about his colorful history, and points of pride he experienced in his life; he was articulate and full of stories. He didn’t ask for anything, reveling instead in the simple joy of being heard, being seen. I had nearly forgotten this moment until today, but I shared it with the audience during my speaking engagement the next day. As a parting gesture, we quickly curated some resources on our phones to share with him, while Kelly handed him our pizza. His face lit up, and not only for the food but for the connection, the acknowledgment of his humanity. Kelly had this incredible ability to extend kindness to strangers, embracing them with the same warmth she showed for close friends and family.

As I continued my journey along the lake, I considered a book I read by author Brian Biro, The ROI of Kindness. Its concepts, told through a business lens, also carried strong messages for personal application. I pondered the distinction between kindness and niceness. Kindness a force grounded in empathy and authentic connection, going beyond mere politeness, which can sometimes be a facade for accolades or acceptance. I thought about how niceness commonly stems from a desire for approval, or perhaps to avoid conflict. Kindness, on the other hand, springs from a heartfelt commitment to another’s well-being. This reflection, like the gentle ripples on the lake, stirred something within me, clarifying the essence of what it means to truly care for others.

A recent reading on Aristotle’s wisdom echoed in my mind, reminding me that virtue isn’t merely a rule to follow; it’s a practice built through deliberate action. Kindness is a discipline that grows from an inner alignment with my values, a path guided by self-compassion, a practice that matters for resilience, especially in hard times. As I continued my journey along the trail, I felt a renewed commitment to treat myself and others with the same kindness I so readily extend to close friends and family. In this embrace of kindness, I found not only the strength to lift others but also the deep joy of caring for my own spirit. The path continues.

-Ken