Friday night hikes.
Way back when S was a baby we started Friday Night Lights, a tradition-of-sorts where we'd head out from work on Fridays up to Stevens Pass for night skiing. K and I would take turns skiing and watching this little baby of ours. It was a blast, and night skiing always gave us the lodge to ourselves and the ski slopes pretty much empty.
Then we moved to Wenatchee and stopped skiing at Stevens Pass.
So we started a new tradition: Friday Night Hikes. It's really sweet being able to drive five minutes to a trailhead and go for a hike. We heard on one of our hikes, at the top, someone installed a swing. On a trail run up there last week, I discovered it and had a go of it. But it wasn't the same without the ones I knew appreciated a good swing even more than I: namely, the rest of my family.
This past Friday, we all hiked up, the swing keeping S motivated to hike a couple miles and a thousand feet of vert. It didn't disappoint, although truthfully K beat him to the swing.
We even hiked up in the muggy rain, S toting an umbrella instead of donning the rain shell I had packed for him. Whatever. He kept going. I love hiking in the rain (well, warm rain) and the smell of wet sage is really, really fragrant.
Eventually, the swing came into view.
We hung around up top (from where we could see our house) before heading back down to fire up the Ooni pizza oven.
Funny story about the house on the right… I know the gal who lives in the house next door, to the left of it. We've eyed the über-contemporary one every time we drive that road at the top of the frame. It's a really cool house. Turns out, its owned by an architect and his wife who designed it themselves who, yaddee yaddee yada, are going to be selling it. We'll see what it goes for when it hits the market…
The hike down was much quicker and K carried H. Another Friday Night hike in the books.
