Today Karen and I hiked six miles with 1,000 feet of elevation gain up beautiful Ingalls Creek. It's the longest, undamed river in Washington State. A spiritual place for me.

In a high, narrow valley, we expected deep snow. So, we carried snowshoes and used microspikes. Turns out we didn't need snowshoes.

I centered the snowshoes on my pack. Karen hung hers on either side of her pack. Her snowshoes were swinging and painfully hitting her elbows. She didn't tell me until we were almost to the cars.

"I have extra straps to strap them to your pack, " I offered. "No, look how close we are to the cars," she replied.

Hikers value self-reliance. I like helping people.

The trail was covered with thick ice and compacted snow. I slipped and fell twice because the snowshoes threw off my balance. Loosening my shoulder straps created a lower center of gravity. After that, I was fine.

"The snow will hold me," I told myself as an affirmation while steeply descending on snow and ice. It increased my confidence with tricky footing. With afternoon sun, the snow and ice softened, giving better traction. We clambered over and under fallen trees. Cleared the trail of branches.

Karen, 71, was a snowboard instructor. Descending, she is incredibly fast. She visualizes herself snowboarding. As usual, I jogged on smooth areas of the trail to keep up.

"I didn't break through the snow while jogging because my feet were stepping double-time!" I told Karen. "You're like a Ninja," she replied. We laughed.

Photos: Stuart Mountain Range. Ingalls Creek. Karen and me (blue hat). In 2014, a huge wildfire swept through. The wind shifted and spared trees on the other side of the creek.