Teapot Hill

A few years ago we decided to begin a tradition of doing a hike on Labor day Monday. So here we were last Monday, deciding on where to go this time. I had not forgotten the hike up Mt. Cheam . . . so the name Teapot Hill sounded like it may just be more my size.

We took the Hwy East, drove through the sleepy town of Yarrow, with its fruit stands and pottery barns on every other corner, past Cultus Lake, buzzing with summer activities, and found a parking spot.

I must confess the hardest part was the first ten minutes, just getting used to the  immediate uphill start, and then it was quite easy going.

The slope beside the path went straight down,

the path itself littered with roots and lined with trees that had all kinds of interesting root systems above ground.

Since I was small, I've loved the feel of being surrounded by tall trees, laden with moss and ferns growing everywhere. I have this vague memory that I may have climbed this hill, coming up the other side, once or twice  Before my teen years, and even as a teen, I attended a camp right below this hill and my favorite activity was hiking. Definitely more desirable than craft time or swimming.
I just know that somewhere in there I must have that valerie-valerah spirit, inherited from my dad.

Back to Monday . . . before we knew it . . . we were at the top. Yes, it was only a hill. Almost disappointing. I wonder what we can find that is inbetween a mountain and a hill.

On our way down we stopped to have some lunch

and tried to get a view of the lake through the trees.

At the bottom, we drove by the lakeside and wound through the small streets lined with summer homes.

We saw an open house sign and decided to look . . . because we could.

There were beautiful kitchens and baths

 

and views . . . but we were not shopping. 

For dinner we packed up hamburgers to BBQ and headed to our 33 year-old family lakehouse - re-done, content and thankful for so much!