In between pelting rainstorms, my dog Benji and I found a patch of sunshine and decided to head down to Seward Park to check out some of the trails.
Sticking to the path
Upon arriving, I questioned whether exploring the park's heavily manicured lawns would count as a "hike." A local Parks and Recreation employee reassured me that if I stuck to the main cement path I would still encounter some nature. They directed me to a winding wooden staircase leading toward the woods, and we began our ascent on "Broken Tree Trail."
While foliage and tree coverage provided the same visuals you may get on a more remote hiking trail, the echoes of construction spoiled any chance of serenity for the first half of our walk. The loud beeping and crashing sounds made Benji uneasy, though I was more alarmed by the sight of a mysterious white sap oozing from nearby trees and multiple warning signs about poison oak.
Despite the city noises, the park provided natural scenery, including giant trees with leaves the size of my head. The trail took us to a grassy field with a playground before jutting off. At this point, we decided to hop on the "Clark's Prairie Trail," which appeared to head further into the woods.
A hidden gem
We maneuvered deeper into a grove of trees, and the construction faded into the autumn sounds of birds preparing for winter. Once again, the trail jutted off. The main path turned to pavement. Off to the side a game trail led into the woods. Though the Parks employee had suggested staying on the paved trail, I was looking for an adventure. My chest rose and fell faster now with the thrill of a bad idea, and I ducked into the overgrown trees.
The visual music of nature's fall concerto — brilliant greenery on the edge of turning color — lulled me into a trance. Through breaks in the gorgeous trees we could glimpse Lake Washington. We took the overgrown trail slowly. A worry built that we might get lost, encounter a snake, or brush up against poison ivy, but I pushed through. Before long we discovered bright red vines climbing up ancient trees. The thrill of "what-if" only made the path more beautiful, as though it were an elusive gift offered only to the brave and reckless.
Our hidden path did not last long; like most serene moments, it was ours only briefly. The path spat us out at another paved trail, this one labeled "North Beach Trail." Though less secluded it did lead us to some wildlife encounters, mainly with ducks, massive spiders, and a few off-leash children (which were by far the most terrifying).
Exploring the lake
North Beach Trail took us along the shores of Lake Washington, where Benji was delighted to find buoyant sticks to fetch. Though fall was upon us and the lake was far too cold for me to step into, my dog loved the chance to prance around at the edge of the still waters. I, too, was impressed by the variety of swimming spots and will add Seward Park to my summer 2024 bucket list.
Continuing along the lake, we passed a rocky beach, park benches, and even a small fishing dock. While occasional walkers, bikers, and joggers passed us on the path, the area maintained a quiet stillness. Seward Park is full of beautiful spaces for reflection and contemplation. Mile markers remind patrons how far they have come (assuming they have strictly stuck to the path). The final marker came in at just under 2.5 miles, making this an easy hike for beginners and those with moderate experience. Two other flat, paved paths in Seward Park, the Sqebeqsed Trail (1.2 miles) and the Perimeter Loop Trail (2.4 miles), are said to be excellent options for wheelchair users who want to commune with nature.
The end of the lakeside trail brought us to a marsh. Lily pads dotted the water's edge, and ducks gathered to feast on the aquatic plants and algae. Though we were nearing the construction site again, the quiet remained until we rounded the bend.
Hiking the hidden path at Seward Park, I remembered what makes nature so thrilling. There's an addicting rush of emotions when something scares you but you pursue it anyway. The most beautiful route Benji and I took was overgrown, but perhaps its beauty came from knowing not many decide to take it. There is so much more to explore in Seward Park that I already have plans to return, but in the back of my mind, I wonder about that hidden path. Will it still seem as beautiful now that I know where it leads?