Narada Falls in Winter
Tossed the chains, the dog and the Older Boy into the 402 on Saturday and headed out to the snow. Most time if we haven’t seen any of the white stuff, we take ourselves to Snoqualmie Pass, as they have an inner tube run and a play area off of I-90. This year we decided to stay in the county, and headed down Pacific Highway out past Spanaway, La Conner, Alder and Elbe to visit Mt. Rainier.
It rained the entire trip to the state park, but once inside the gate after we put on our tire chains, it did nothing but snow. We crawled our way to Narada Falls where we then spent a good long time playing high up in a snow bank, throwing snow at the dog and laughing. We’d heard that Paradise has a place you can bring your sled, so we all hopped into the car and headed up. By the time we reached our destination the snow was coming down fast and heavy. The play area was more crowded and the line for the sled run was longer than we expected. We made our way up the long steep track and waited for our turn, and before we knew it we had sledded down the hill and were heading back to the car. It just didn’t seem worth the wait or effort.
We drove back down to the falls, and there in a clearing up and out of sight of the parking lot, we chased the dog, had snowball fights, made angles and ate snow. Ku’ya found a large stick to chew on and fetch—I would toss it into the clean fresh powder and she would dive for it, like she was at the beach and the waves were crashing over her head, tumbling her in the surf.
We stayed as long as we could—until our legs were frozen and the light was just beginning to fade from the endless snowing sky. There was cocoa and sandwiches in the car, and after we shed our wet clothes and ate we started the long journey home—rumbling down the winding road in our chained up tires until we got to the mouth of the park and the enchanting snowy wonderland of white disappeared like a light bulb that had been switched off.
It rained the whole way home, just as it had the whole way there—the same endless raining sky of grey that follows us from Thanksgiving all the way till spring. The Older boy talked about our day for a while and then drifted off to sleep listening to the sound of tires on a wet road and the steady lulling thump of the windshield wipers. I turned the radio on and dreamed of summer the rest of the way home.
It rained the entire trip to the state park, but once inside the gate after we put on our tire chains, it did nothing but snow. We crawled our way to Narada Falls where we then spent a good long time playing high up in a snow bank, throwing snow at the dog and laughing. We’d heard that Paradise has a place you can bring your sled, so we all hopped into the car and headed up. By the time we reached our destination the snow was coming down fast and heavy. The play area was more crowded and the line for the sled run was longer than we expected. We made our way up the long steep track and waited for our turn, and before we knew it we had sledded down the hill and were heading back to the car. It just didn’t seem worth the wait or effort.
We drove back down to the falls, and there in a clearing up and out of sight of the parking lot, we chased the dog, had snowball fights, made angles and ate snow. Ku’ya found a large stick to chew on and fetch—I would toss it into the clean fresh powder and she would dive for it, like she was at the beach and the waves were crashing over her head, tumbling her in the surf.
We stayed as long as we could—until our legs were frozen and the light was just beginning to fade from the endless snowing sky. There was cocoa and sandwiches in the car, and after we shed our wet clothes and ate we started the long journey home—rumbling down the winding road in our chained up tires until we got to the mouth of the park and the enchanting snowy wonderland of white disappeared like a light bulb that had been switched off.
It rained the whole way home, just as it had the whole way there—the same endless raining sky of grey that follows us from Thanksgiving all the way till spring. The Older boy talked about our day for a while and then drifted off to sleep listening to the sound of tires on a wet road and the steady lulling thump of the windshield wipers. I turned the radio on and dreamed of summer the rest of the way home.
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