Hurricane Hill, not to be confused with the much cooler sounding Hurricane Ridge, wasn’t our planned hike when we set out in the morning. The girlfriend and I ferried over to Bainbridge to meet our friend for a day adventure. We didn’t decide on anything in particular to do, instead leaving our destination up to the adventure gods. The gods that day communicated their declaration to us via the spotty service I was receiving on my phone (what up T-Mobile!), after I typed in “North Peninsula Hikes”.
Never ones to defy the gods, we decided to drive up to Hurricane Hill. If we had bothered to look up the location before we went it would have been possible to prepare more than we did. Although only around a three-mile round trip normally, the road was snowed out for another mile or so back, again not that big of a deal. It wasn’t until we actually reached the long sections of snow that we realized just how little traction my girlfriend’s shoes had on them.
Long story short, I built up a lot of muscle in my arm that day holding her as she slipped. My girlfriend also gained two things that day, the knowledge of how weak my arms are, and what ice feels like on every part of your back.
The trip ended up totally being worth it though, because when on the top of the hill we made friends with an Olympic Marmot (you’ll never guess how it got its name!).
Location: Hurricane Hill
Featuring: Ben Lindbloom