A Favorite Trail with an Old Friend

When: July 2011 (ten years and two days ago!)
Where: Denny Creek and Melakwa Lake trails near Snoqualmie Pass
With: my partner, my friend Jen and her friend
What: day hiking
Accompaniment: Two Against One by Danger Mouse and Daniele Luppi (feat. Jack White)

When I heard my friend Jen would be in Seattle for the summer, I was thrilled. I had very few of my own friends in Seattle at that point, so I had visions of adventures all summer long. Kindly, she explained she’d be busy helping her sister get ready to have a baby, but she could make time for a hike.

I counted her a good friend, so I had to shake off my disappointment. We’d met studying abroad in New Zealand and taken several trips together while we were there — but it had been six years, and we’d barely even interacted on social media. Since then, I’ve realized that situational friendships that spring out of a shared time-bound experience — summer camp, study abroad, trips — rarely last. Naturally, friendships fade without new shared memories. Years later, with more experience under your belts, removed from the dynamic of that place and group, they — and you — are different people. Meeting up for a hike or a meal years later can be a nice coda with someone who was important to you once.

I suggested one of my favorite places to hike, beautiful Denny Creek near Snoqualmie Pass. The trail has natural rock slides that kids love to play on, but you can continue up a steeper rocky climb without the crowds, past waterfalls, through a natural bowl, and over a pass to a lake if you want. (I’ve never made it to the lake — usually I stop at Keekwulee Falls.) Jen always seemed more athletic and adventurous than me, so I wanted to make sure she’d get enough of a hike.

Jen brought along her friend, a doctor. I remember peppering him with questions, never having met a doctor our age before. He’d brought along a bag of farmers market cherries and gorged himself as we hiked, to the point he had to excuse himself into the bushes partway through the hike.

The climb always takes a little longer than I remember, but finally we crossed narrow rough-hewn log over a small creek bridge and crested into the upper bowl. Fog brushed the treetops on the pass ahead of us. The trail crossed rough talus fields between lush willows. The plants along the trail were dripping wet from the damp air. I was enchanted by the curves of false hellebore, and tried (unsuccessfully) to photograph them quickly in homage to photographer Bruce Barnbaum. Bright yellow glacier lilies stood out against the muted tones of rock and earth.

At some point, we decided we didn’t want to do the last few miles round-trip to reach the lake, so we headed back down the mountain, past the falls, over the river, under the freeway, then to our separate ways. I haven’t talked to Jen since, but can still laugh remembering her doctoring her foot with a chef’s knife in our hotel kitchen sink and smile to think of her climbing the underside of a staircase because she missed rock climbing so much. Even if we’re not really friends anymore, her friendship is entwined with my memories of New Zealand.