On paper, the mountains of northern Washington in the dead of winter may not seem like my idea of a dream trip. They’re cold, especially in the winter; I’m a warm weather girl. We were far from civilization; I like the comfort of being in close proximity to an urban hub. Our days were relatively unplanned; I’m the definition of Type A, particularly when I travel.
And yet, our week in the North Cascade Mountains was pretty much the best trip we’ve been on in years.
That’s not to say our gracious hosts, the NVR Guys, didn’t have us taken care of, because they did. But they sent us an email a few days before our arrival that said:
We’ll have a blast—just be prepared for whatever. The conditions should be great for cross country skiing and snowshoeing. But–you know how it goes in these extreme places–shit happens. Worse case scenario, we’re stranded in the house. Come with the expectation to enjoy nature, clear your heads, read books, finish/start projects (nature is good for that), and have awesome conversations. You won’t be disappointed.
The funny thing is that many of our friends seem to think we’re the types who need constant stimulation, and yet this recipe for a week away from all the noise was exactly what I needed. They will never know how much that email set me at peace, knowing very little (if anything at all) was expected of me for seven full days.
So what did we do? Wellllll…
We went nordic skiing, and I discovered I’m not bad at it (just as they promised).
We had long, awesome conversations (just as they promised).
We took Ella on long walks until her little paws were frozen with ice balls.
I read a couple books (again, they did not lie).
Don’t mind my three layers of down; it was EIGHT degrees out, after all.
I inverted (you’re not surprised). In snowshoes, at that.
We had a couple beers (OK, a lot of beers), because this is us we’re talking about.
We snowshoed up to the top of the peak in their neighborhood. The views were epic.
We popped into the cutesy Western-themed town of Winthrop on a couple different occasions.
We laughed. A LOT.
SVV and I busted out a little AcroYoga—or Acro SNOW-ga, if you will—something that was a first for both of us.
You guys, this, this right here, is a recipe for my idea of a perfect vacation.
Somehow the time flew by, too, and on the morning of day six, it was time for us to pack up and go. We had a five-hour drive ahead of us to get back to Seattle, where we’d stay a final night before our flight back home.
And I wasn’t going to be five miles from Leavenworth and not have a pint of beer! This Bavarian-themed town had evaded me for years, and I knew I had to stop by for a peek.
We had lunch and a brewskie at Icicle Brewing Co. before hitting the road again, arriving in Seattle just as the sun was setting. And as if I needed another reason to love the Emerald City, it gave us this as a parting shot:
Thanks for more awesome memories, Washington. Same time, same place next year? You can count us in, no doubt.