Richard Olmer

The Lillian Ridge trail is even pretty to look at. And, look at the mountains that hang there in space on both sides of the trail. You are surrounded by a beauty that even Disney would be hard-pressed to beat.

And in the fall, there is always that subtle hint of color that usually is missing.

OK, I can hear you already: It looks like rocks. Look closer and you'll discover that no two are exactly alike. I know, I looked around for hours to find a matched pair for bookends. Can you image a prettier place to examine rocks?

And how about that trail? Do you notice the beautiful curves in the trail that basically goes straight? Interstate 70 through Kansas is so much more boring than this wonderfully meandering trail.



No straight lines

I have to admit that I love getting away from straight lines - even those corn and wheat fields beside the road are etched with boring parallel ruts that go on for miles and miles. I suspect that folks from Kansas would pay big bucks to see such an unruly, undisciplined trail.

The Lillian Ridge trail begins at the end of the Obstruction Point Road. Most folks who walk this trail probably are heading down to Grand Lake or Moose Lake. It's too bad; this is a trail that deserves to be a destination itself.

If you've got to get somewhere, make your destination Moose Mountain via a faint way trail that lingers after the main trail dives down the mountainside to the lakes and the valley below.

Of course, you could make it a demanding all-day trek and walk past Grand Lake to the bottom of Grand Valley and then climb up the trail through Badger Valley until it meets the Obstruction Point Trail just around the corner from where you began your trip up Lillian Ridge.

To me, this trail is like a dessert that's worth skipping the meal for. Don't head anywhere, just walk, look, examine the rocks, listen to the birds, feel the air that is caressing you, feel the sun, look toward Dodger Point and try to see the old lookout.

This trail is just too nice to use to get somewhere else.



Who needs a goal?

This is one of the saddest things about the folks I meet around here who hike. They seem so fixated on some destination that they miss everything between here and there.

Maybe I'm the strange one, but a trail like this one gets me so close to God that I can hear his breath and feel it on the back of my neck. In places like this trail, I cannot imagine that anyone can even seriously mention or give credence to a big-bang theory. Places like this are created; they do not evolve mechanistically.

I've studied the science. It helps me understand some things, but it erases the whole that is here. The whole is so much more than all of its component parts. For me, it is all definitely the creation of a consciousness that I name God.

Come, take a walk on the wild side and hear what can't be heard, falling snow or a raven's wings as they push at the wind. There is magic in such places, a magic that most people miss as they hurry along to some named destination that, although beautiful, is too well-defined and limited to be magical.

I've hiked down to the lakes, down to the river, across a high log bridge (which I did not like) and back up to Obstruction Point. Badger Valley is pretty, but basically the hike became one big blur in my consciousness (like a Thanksgiving dinner).

I prefer to focus on my dessert.

Richard Olmer can be reached at columnists@

sequimgazette.com.