An Open Letter to Newcomers to the Northwest (Or, Don't Be a Cravasshole!)

Welcome to Cascadia! As a child of the first wave of hippies to migrate here, I know first hand the scenic beauty of our emerald green home. Drive an hour in any direction, and find yourself in a different climate: mountains, desert, rainforest, swamp, you name it, it's here, relatively unsullied (remember to pack out your trash!), and crisscrossed with trails, for all your outdoor recreational needs.
But heed my warnings, all you rookie adventurers! Recent years have seen a sharp increase of the number of people who met untimely deaths in our wilderness. From the well-publicized Kim family, to the many river fatalities in the summer, unprepared nature lovers have given their very lives for their vacations.
When someone gets stranded up on the mountain, and they send out a search party to bring back their frozen bodies, my old man Dingo the Clown & I take it hard. He calls those poor fools “Cravassholes,� because it's as preventable a death as smoking.(Dingo' a clever guy like that. Check out his blog, www.shmanarchy.blogspot.com ) And not only is it a senseless loss of life, our state's budget is struggling with a broken back, and we simply cannot afford all those rescue missions.
As kids, my siblings and I were trained by our parents to know what we were contending with when we set out into the wilderness. From wetland preserves, to waterfalls, to high mountain ravines, my mom & stepdad took us on long hikes, making us carry enough food for the trip, and appropriate clothing. I probably whined, “I'm too hot! I don't wanna wear an extra jacket around my waist!� (Sorry, Mom.) I remember one year, my little sister pitched a fit when dad wouldn't let her bring her doll backpacking. When the trip was over, she had seen her dad in a whole new light, not as a guy who tells her what to do for fun, but as a wise man, who should be listened to.
So I want to share now with you, the benefit of some of that education.
I could go into some of the specific hazards, region by region, such as rip tides, frostbite, or giardia, but in the interest of keeping it simple, and leaving the tour guiding to someone else, I'll give you a few bullet points:
Stay Warm. The temperature drops fast when the sun goes down. Even in the summer. Especially in the desert. Take extra clothes, and remember socks. Dry feet are key to staying warm.
Have Shelter. You or your significant other might complain about the cost of that hotel-room/cabin/yurt, but think of the cost the families of those lost hikers suffered.
Don't Underestimate Nature. We may think we've tamed this planet, with our GPS, and our cars, and our camera phones, but remember how BIG Nature is. Those beautiful waves could crack your head open on the rocks. Snow is very pretty, but deadly cold. And a car that breaks down is as cold as the outside world, after about an hour.
Go With People Who Know. Plan outings with friends and neighbors who are familiar with the terrain, before you head out. And never, ever hike alone.
Pack It In, Pack It Out. Cascadia's not your trash dump, OK? And while I'm on the subject, while I'm sure you are a lovely person, we really can't expect to stay so green and pretty, if every darn Liberal in the USofA sets up housekeeping here. So please feel free to absorb some of our SCRAPpy environmentalism, and take it back home with you, should you find yourself thinking, “Golly, I wish my hometown was this cool.�
www.clownhouse.org