Did not see any fish up there.

I went on a gigantic 9 mile hike this afternoon to the top of Salmon Butte. Almost 3000 ft of elevation gain, yo. It was a cloudy day and so the vistas did not pan out, but as a huff and puff up a mountain, it was grand. There were barely any other people on the trail and I saw blooming rhododendrons, weird mushrooms, douglas firs scattered like matchsticks down the cliffs, and lots of pretty green moss. Walking along the ridgeline was so cool. I did not put the snow attachments on my walking sticks because I figured, hey, it is June and there won't be any snow. Wrong-o. When I got up really high, the trail was completely covered in deep snowbanks. I was able to find my way by following the dirty footprints of previous hikers. But then I thought, you know, if it rains I'm not going to be able to see these prints and I'll become one of those statistical morons you see in the news who loses the trail and gets stuck up in the forest. I had my pocket knife from when I was 12, some almonds, and an ipod with lots of Dengue Fever and James Brown, so I probably would have survived, but still. And speaking of which, I guess women don't get the same adrenaline pay-off that the boys do from this sort of shenanigan. I am now safely home but will likely be sore for days from the pounding descent. But it is okay because I'm pretty happy about getting all the way to the top. Queer mountaineer.