Before Heading South

Our week began with some hot weather that reminded us that it was Summer. We decided to forgo hiking for a day or two, so I pulled out my smoker and seasoned a chicken. I want to smoke a brisket but am not paying $75 for a piece of meat, so I settled on a $10 bird. When we lived in the apartment in Houston, city ordinances did not allow me to use the smoker. I bought an electric grill and had to make do with grilling steaks or ribs. But one of my joys of travel is that I can pull out the smoker and enjoy the food and the challenge of creating a perfectly smoked BBQ. The weather in the last few months has made smoking more difficult. Too cold or windy, the smoker uses many pellets, and the results are not always predictable. If the weather is too hot and dry, there is usually a burn ban. So, on those occasions when the stars align, and the weather gods cooperate, I do my best to BBQ something. Today it is a chicken. This bird is going to get a lot of love.

We are midway through our 2023 trip, so it is time to get serious with the planning for 2024. I know I call what we do "Wandering," which is true for day-to-day travel. But unfortunately, the last few years have complicated travel in a rig like ours. More people than ever are booking campgrounds and filling our National Parks. (More about the latter later.)  We are forced to plan our stops three to six months out for the routine stuff and up to a year out for the popular places like National or State Parks. So, I am forced to temper my wanderlust with some old-fashioned week-to-week planning.

 

To accomplish this, I use the setup pictured above. We begin with the most challenging part, deciding on the direction. This is a big continent, and there are exciting places everywhere. Short of throwing a dart at a map, we do our best to cover as much ground as possible while having long enough stays to make the travel enjoyable. I have gone through 5-6 scenarios for next year, and the winner is … (drum roll) The Midwest to the Northwest and back through the SW to Texas. This route is heavily influenced by our hope to see the Grands in Seattle and visit close friends in the Midwest and NW. Once the hard choices are made, the week-to-week planning begins. I will save you the boring details but know that it involves reading countless reviews of campgrounds and roads and then emailing, calling, or booking sites online, ensuring that we are not traveling through an area that will not be compatible with Koko. I would love to be able to book the whole year at a time and be done with this part of the process. But every campground has rules about when you can book, so this process will stretch out over the next 6 months. Fortunately, we now have the greater part of the first half of 2024 reserved. The one big exception is the second week of April. The Total Eclipse is making campgrounds careful, hoping to maximize their income for this event. Many are setting up waiting lists for bookings. But this is just another challenge for life on the road. In the end, it is worth it.

We took a day to enjoy the Koocanusa Scenic Byway along the Kootenai River. During the last Century, the US and Canada worked with the Native people of the Upper Reaches of the Columbia River Basin to build hydroelectric power and flood control dams. One of the dams constructed was outside of Libby, Montana, called Libby Dam. It created a lake along the Kootenai River that stretches back into Alberta, Canada. The lake is named after the three nations involved, The Kootenai-USA-Canada. Hence the name Koocanusa. The dam is hailed as a monument to international and Native American cooperation. It is a highlight of the Columbia River Treaty of 1961.

 

Despite all the diplomatic success of the project, there was one little problem. The East side of the dam was excavated into a mountain, and the highway had to be moved higher up the side. During excavation, a layer of loose, sedimentary rocks was exposed between the layers of harder limestone-type rock. On January 31, 1961, water penetrated this layer, and a massive section of rock slipped and destroyed everything below. Fortunately, this was on the weekend, and no workers were injured. Still, it did require the work of geologists and engineers to design a way to hold the rock in place while construction on the highway and dam continued. The picture shows the anchoring system and monitoring sensors that protect the dam and those who travel the highway below. The slide was named after the response of the Dam planners when the event occurred. It is called the Dirty Shame Slide.

Downstream from the dam is one of the most beautiful spots we have seen on this trip. It is a series of cascades on the Kootenai River called Kootenai Falls. The crystal-clear water tumbles over layer upon layer of hard rock. The sunlight danced in the swirling waters reflecting the deep green of the surrounding forest and azure skies overhead. The falls created a symphony of joyful music that filled the air. Many people say they are soaked in the moment. However, I went through over 100 images, trying to capture the moment's magic. The magic eluded my camera lens, but it lingers in my soul when I see the photos, close my eyes, and replay that music again and again.

On the way back to Nakai after visiting the falls, this beautiful little thistle caught my eye. My camera lens has always been attracted to thistles. It must be my Scottish roots showing. Many see them as a nuisance. I remember a neighbor who would go after any thistle that dared to grow in her yard or any of her neighbor's yards with a butcher knife. But I love the color and texture of the plants. This was my first time seeing a plant with two different color blooms. These hardy survivors are not too concerned about gaining respect from others. They have a job to do, and they pump all their energy into producing the next generation of thistles. They adapt wherever they find themselves and exist in every climate and ecosystem we have seen over the last year. While the thistle does not care much, I deeply respect and appreciate their efforts to bring some color and variety to our lives.

Due to overcrowding and the limited-timed entry tickets, we had to take a tour bus to get into Glacier National Park. Not the best way to see the park because the time at each stop is limited to 10 – 15 minutes. Our first stop was at Lake McDonald. The scenery was stunning. But I was more fascinated by the water of the lake and the pebbles that covered the beach. The pebbles have washed down from the surrounding mountains over the eons. Their color depends on their origin in the multilayered mountains. Their shape is due to spending hundreds of years rolling down the mountain streams. Their presence in this place is due to a glacier that was thousands of feet thick and melted in this place millions of years ago. But all of that was secondary to how the light filtered through the water and brought these pebbles to life.

 

I can only imagine the story that each pebble has to tell. How many were tossed by a child's hand into the water? They were locked in ice and felt the ground rumble as massive forces shifted the earth around them. Many were part of a nest for a fish or a bed for land animals. What will their future story be? Undoubtedly, their story will continue. Will some travel hundreds of miles in a child’s pocket, only to become a memory-laden treasure of a trip to the Glaciers? Some end up being cast aside when the next generation inherits their grandfather’s treasure. Indeed, each pebble in that lake has precious stories to share and stories that have yet to be written. These pebbles and their stories are fascinating!

Any trip to Glacier National Park demands at least one glacier picture, and this is it! Sadly, the glaciers are disappearing very quickly. But one of the few can be seen from the Going to the Sun Road, Jackson Glacier. It is one of the 25 remaining glaciers in the park, and 125 years ago was part of a much larger glacier that filled the entire valley. But it has lost most of its volume due to natural and human-caused global warming. Scientists believe that many, if not all, of the glaciers will disappear entirely by 2030. They will be replaced by snowfields coming and going with the season, but the glaciers will not return until the next ice age. These magnificent creations of nature gave form and character to the Northern part of the US and Canada. They formed deep valleys and massive gorges. They shaped the mountains that filled the skyline. They created much of the fertile soil of the Willamette Valley and others that feed millions of people. They provide a year-round source of water for the mountain streams. They would likely have disappeared regardless of what we have done to the world’s weather. They have disappeared and reappeared many times over the eons. But your grandchildren and their children will never know, except in pictures, what an actual glacier looks like. This makes me sad.

While enjoying the Hidden Lakes Meadow scenery, this Columbian Ground Squirrel popped up on a rock next to the trail. These ground squirrels are everywhere. Half a dozen lived in the nooks and crannies around our campsite. They came out searching for dropped morsels and tormenting each other if they got too close to the wrong doorway to their underground homes. This one came out to see what the tourists were doing that day. He (or she) could no doubt feel the foot traffic overhead and thought we might be dropping some crumbs or being suckers for major-league cuteness. He posed and preened for me as I snapped away. Like any other professional model, he would pause long enough for the shot and then move on to the next routine. We developed quite a rhythm while he gave us his best side. It is very easy to see why these critters are so numerous. They understand people and have adapted to life among them. They have also developed a fine sense of when to leave and would do so without even a flick of their short tail. I blink, and they are gone. Thank you for a bit of fun on a day with more than its share of frustration.

While at Hidden Lakes Trail, we got to experience the thousands of people who descend on this park each year. If you look closely at the trail leading up to the hidden lake, you will see a small sample of the hundreds on the trail. There were dozens of clumps of 10-20 people strung out up the hill. Our tour bus had to drive by this stop on the way up the mountain pass because the parking lot was packed. We were able to get in on the way down, and the driver did not have to circle endlessly through the parking lot. Throngs of people crowded into the Visitor Center, the Restrooms, and the shuttles that provided transportation who were exploring the park because they did not score a timed daily visitor pass. Our tour guide said the park releases 400 passes a few months before a particular date. When those are gone, the park releases another 400 24 hours before the gates open for the day. Often these are snapped up within minutes. This does not count the bicycles, walk-ins, and people, like us, on one of the hundreds of tours that take place each day. Tens of thousands of visitors would be in the park each day. Among these will be people who do not care about rules and will toss baby wipes and even used diapers beside the rock they used to change their child. Juice boxes and wrappers of all descriptions are thrown at, but not quite in the trash cans. A few will ignore the signs and walk across the ground that is to be protected from foot traffic. Some will approach bears and elk even after being warned.

 

All-in-all, these parks are being loved to death. Well, it is not quite love that is hurting the parks. The increased presence of people has caused more dangerous encounters with wildlife, and the Grizzlies are making their presence known through attacks on park visitors. Some people also succumb to the cuteness attacks by some creatures, teaching them that people are food sources. This increases the chances that they will be harmed by the close contact. All of this makes me very sad. Everyone should have the opportunity to see these natural wonders. Still, those who cannot control themselves or respect the parks or their natural inhabitants have no business in them. We may need a nationwide passport system for all the parks that would ban those who cannot visit them with respect. I know this is draconian, but we need to better protect our parks from us!

Last year we did the show in Medora, ND, and had a great time. So, this year we bought tickets for "Escape to Margaritaville" by Jimmy Buffet at a nearby Summer playhouse. This show was a hoot! I couldn’t take pictures of the show, so this is the best shot I could get, Marlene, waiting for the show to start. The show was one huge pun based on Jimmy Buffet's song, Margaritaville. Anyone who knows the song could hear the echoes throughout the so-called storyline. But like a good whodunit, I didn’t see the “payoff” coming until it blew past me like a roaring freight train! It was a Summer stock playhouse, and the performers were primarily young people getting started. Some could sing well, while others struggled to get the songs out. But the Bigfork Summer Playhouse provided a good night's entertainment and scholarships for young actors and production people. We were told that six of their former scholarship recipients are performing on Broadway. Thank you for a fun evening. By the way, Bigfork refers to the name of the town. It is next to Hungry Horse, which would make sense. I would want a big fork if I were as hungry as a horse. (Sorry, the show put me in a pun-full mood.)

This mountain sits at the Marias Pass between East Glacier and West Glacier. It is an upside-down mountain. The layers are out of chronological order. I have heard these situations labeled as an unconformity, as they have in the Big Bend Area of Texas. But I like the idea of them being upside down. The layer of lighter-colored shale near the top of the mountain is younger than the older rock above it. The dating comes from the fossils found in the layers. These are remnants of ancient sea floors that covered this part of the continent and have been pushed up by the same tectonic forces that created the Rocky Mountains. Scientists believe the unconformity happened when a younger layer of mud from an ancient sea was squeezed under a thrust fault of metamorphosized rock that is 100 million years older. This is common in areas where the earth's crust folds and cracks, erodes, and reforms due to the pressures of tectonic shifts in the deeper parts of the crust. I am amazed at how the earth has evolved and how geologists and geophysicists work to understand the complex forces at play. Things are not as they seem to the untrained eye.

 

That is why we need educated people (you and me) striving to understand the work of higher-educated people in our culture. If the world was about "common sense," then education would be pointless. But life is far more complex than we want to admit. We need to constantly observe, make informed guesses, and then test and re-test those guesses, allowing new, more plausible ideas to change our minds. Yep, that is what education is all about. And I am not only talking about science!

We woke up early on our drive day and ate breakfast at the Campground Restaurant. It was a complimentary, hotel-style hot breakfast that was actually pretty good. We ate a pizza at the place the night before, and it could have been better. After breakfast, we did the final prep for the move and drove 111 miles to Missoula, MT. The drive followed Flathead Lake, which offered some beautiful and interesting scenery. I was particularly interested in the vast mounds of earth that the glaciers scraped out of the valley and left at the southern tip of the lake after it melted. After climbing and descending several mountain passes, we arrived at our campsite at Missoula KOA in Missoula, MT, just after 1:00 PM. After getting set up, we relaxed and then discovered that a Thai Fusion Food Truck would be on site this evening. That sounded much better than our leftovers, so we had a Thai Chicken Wrap. The rest of the night was spent looking at our list and deciding what we wanted to do with our three full days in Missoula.

 

Now that we are heading South after four months of heading North, I am excited to see the road ahead. Much of the Pacific Coast was beautiful, but each place was like the other. The Olympic Peninsula and the area west of the cascades were the same. Once we got through Snoqualmie Pass, the drier eastern part of the state gave us some variety. But we were soon in the foothills and the mountains of the Northern Rockies. Over the next few weeks, we will visit these mountains and then hit the great desert as we head to Death Valley in late August and Las Vegas in September. I enjoy the changing landscape and the variety of places and people that we encounter along the way. Glad you are along for the ride.

 

I look forward to sharing the last half of our 2023 travels with you as we wander through Idaho, Nevada, Utah, Colorado, and then back into Texas.

 

Enjoy the ride!

 

Bob

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Finding Purpose in Retirement

In college, I encountered the word "finite" but never had any real experience with it. Like most folks my age, we believed we were invincible, and the future was not yet unwritten. But, as the years go by, finitude has become a constant companion. My physical limits expand with each passing year. My latest encounter began when Marlene kept asking me (actually, she really did not ask) to turn the volume down on the TV. She later asked me if I heard my phone ring. Then, I noticed that the people in stores were all talking softer and softer. I even tried to convince myself that people in the Pacific Northwest just spoke more softly. The last straw for me was when I found myself asking Marlene to speak up. So, I ordered an OTC hearing aid. I know too many people who bought $5,000 hearing aids that spent most of the time in a desk drawer. I charged them up and put them in my ears, and the world was suddenly a very noisy place. I had become too comfortable with my softer, gentler audio world. It has taken me a few days, but my brain is adjusting. Finitude is real, and I am gathering ample evidence of how real it will be in a few years. These changes (like the cataract surgery I had a couple years ago) have brought more positives than negatives. I assume that future limitations will also have unexpected benefits if I have the good sense to keep my eyes and ears open. My bionic eyes and electronic ears should help.

 

We have crossed our share of bridges in the last four months. The bridge at Astoria across the mouth of the Columbia was the longest. The one along the Pacific Coast Highway was the most scenic. There have been a couple white-knuckle crossings. But this one over the Spokane River in Riverside State Park is among the most amazing. It is not just the view that is spectacular. This is the second footbridge over the Spokane River at this spot. The Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC) built the first bridge in 1940. It, too, was a suspension bridge. The engineering and beauty of the first bridge some a work of art and careful craftsmanship. It was definitely not a “lowest bid” project by some mega-corp looking for money from the public purse. It was built by people who cared about their workmanship and took pride in it. Unfortunately, it had to be replaced in 1997. The new bridge is a true child of the first and is in the same style as the iconic Golden Gate. It spans the 216-foot rapids and feels as solid as if it sat on concrete piers across the span. It shares the same inherited engineering and is built from local materials. The hands that created it had the same careful attention to detail and respect for the place as the people two generations before. But, more impressively, it was built offsite, taken apart, and reassembled in this beautiful setting. The bridge links the two sides of the park and allows visitors to view the Bowl and Pitcher area from both banks and the middle of the river. It offers an excellent platform for watching the fish swim through the rapids below. The bridge feels like it belongs here. This is a rarity in our “built it fast and cheap” culture. They could have built some modern metal monstrosity to get from one side to the other. But the State of Washington wanted to preserve the area's look and enhance the visitor's experience. They have succeeded in bridging not only a river but this beautiful place's last 80 years of history.

 

Our annual warranty inspection was due during our stay in Spokane. After wasting a morning at a nearby national chain (Camping World), we drove across the state line and had it done in Post Falls, ID. This is a beautiful little town just outside the more famous Coeur d'Alene. The folks at the RV Shop were helpful and were not in too much of a hurry. They answered our questions and scheduled our inspection. I spotted some new leveling blocks for Koko, and if you know me, I do not spend $200 without asking many questions. We bought those, as well. The Service Guy said it would take about an hour and a half, so we had some time to spend in Post Falls, ID. Fortunately, we had an errand to run.

 

We took the last of our now-too-big winter clothes to a hospice thrift shop (Thank you, weight loss) and walked through a large indoor Flea Market where we did a little Christmas Shopping. The people were as charming as their town. We drove down the main street and marveled at the selection of stores and the number of people out and about. On the way back, I saw a sign directing us to Treaty Rock. I have heard of Treaty Oak, Treaty Point, and several other treaty spots. But I had never seen a Treaty Rock. We wandered to a small park next to the Interstate with a short loop trail to the place where the First German Immigrant Settler in the area negotiated with the Coeur d'Alene leaders for some land along the nearby river for his mill. The Immigrants carved a reminder of this agreement in the solid rock of this small cliff, and the Native People added pictographs marking the occasion in red ochre, signifying that this was an important moment in their life. It does not appear that any money changed hands that day. But a friendship started that has grown over the years. We returned to the dealer for Koko; he was ready, on time, and at the price they quoted. We spent an afternoon in a small town with a big heart. It is a heart that has also grown larger over time, beginning with a few words chiseled in stone and a few signs painted in red ochre. Thank you, Post Falls, ID.

 

I have heard of the Spokane Waterfalls for years, so we drove into the city, parked at a downtown shopping mall, and walked Riverfront Park. This was the site of the 1974 World's Fair, and, like Hemisfair Plaza in San Antonio, it was re-purposed into a downtown park. It is built along the river, and I expected something like the River Walk in San Antonio. However, this was  a genuine park setting along the river, including an Upper and Lower Falls. The image above is the Lower Falls that were raised about 20 feet to build a power plant. But these cascades did not disappoint. We rode the gondola above the falls and then walked the river's upper reaches. We saw a fantastic water fountain with moving jets that sprayed the kids and the young-at-heart who played in the cooling water. There was a colossal carousel in its own building. The world's largest Red wagon sat beside large letter blocks that a family was busily rearranging and posing for pictures. Many interesting sculptures were scattered around the park, including tributes to local heroes and some pure art. The Clock Tower is the signature architecture. The former America World’s Fair Pavilion is now a live performance venue. We had lunch at a nearby Irish Pub and made our way to the Upper Falls, which are more rapids than falls at this time of year. Embedded in the side of the falls is a sculpture of a Bighorn Sheep. This walk was a delight and different from what I had expected. But that is the way of wandering; I never know, so joy comes easily. It was an excellent way to spend a warm afternoon in Spokane.

 

We enjoyed our trip to a Raptor Rescue Center in Eugene a month ago. So when we saw the Cat Tales Wildlife Rescue Center on Google Maps, we immediately knew we wanted to go. This center provides a forever home for large Mammals abandoned by their owners. Some were performers in malls and sideshows. Others were acquired as pets when they were cute and cuddly. Many were surrendered by owners that only wanted the best for them. Others were seized from owners ready to euthanize them when they had outlived their usefulness. Most of the resident's stories were posted on their enclosures. It was very touching to read about the lives that some of these beautiful creatures endured before arriving at their forever home. The non-profit that owns the facility does well with what they have. I happily paid for the ticket and even an overpriced magnet without regret. The animals seemed happy and content. The workers and volunteers were equally pleased and content and enjoyed sharing stories about their friends in the cages. The picture above is a good indication of the spirit of the place. It encouraged parents to take their overactive children to a playground set apart from the animals where they can run and scream to their heart's delight. The organization's care for the animals and their guests was a great experience. Thank you for a rewarding experience!

 

I have often said that I am made for life in the desert. I enjoy hot, dry weather because I have a very efficient cooling system. To be honest, I sweat like a pig, and I am very comfortable when it evaporates. So, when the temps hit 97, and the humidity was 35% outside, it was time to go out and sit in the shade. I know! I know it is a cliché, but it really is the humidity. I have spent a half-century sweltering through the summer heat in the Midwest, the deep South, Southern Ontario, and the Texas Gulf Coast. Heat and humidity drain my energy and steal my desire to do anything but sit, sweat, and swear. I feel for my friends throughout the US who are suffering through one of the hottest Summers on record. They are also enduring frequent storm fronts that come in after days of humid, tropical air accompanied by tornados and high winds. I fear that the hurricane season will be dangerous for many of you. You are in my thoughts. But, I am grateful that I can escape this year, and I hope you can find the respite you need from this Summer weather.

 

It was time to leave the High Desert of Eastern Washington and make our way to the mountains of Northern Montana. We drove through some extraordinary countryside that included massive golden fields of wheat, towering mountains covered in Pine, sparkling rivers splashing over rocky rapids, and picturesque small towns dotted with fascinating little attractions (or would that be distractions”. We stopped in St. Regis, MT, for lunch and saw how touristy these little towns can get.

 

We arrived at Whitefish / Kalispell KOA Holiday and found a lovely spot for our next seven days. It is rare to find a site that is level, with good water pressure, in an agreeable climate, and close to places we actually want to visit. This site hits the bullseye on all these. It is a shame that we are off the grid for AT&T and T-Mobile and are limited to the park's WIFI. Oh well, life is good, and, to quote Obama, "Better is good!” Life does not always have to be the best. I am looking forward to the week.

 

We met this fellow on our evening walk around the RV Park. While the head looks somewhat “ant-ish," it is a sculpture of a buffalo made of iron and steel bits and bobs. He was peeking out of the shade and looked a bit lonely. So, we spent a minute enjoying his presence. I love seeing this type of artwork where trash and throw-aways are refashioned into something that enriches our lives. I loved seeing the ocean plastic that was sculpted into fish and crabs, the towering roadside sculptures made from old steel and farm implements, and that marvelous castle in the Rockies made from old wire and 19^th-century architectural features. These things delight my soul. It is not just the recycling that takes place. It is the re-purposing that lifts my spirit.

 

Life is all about re-purposing the discarded and unused. We have walked through forests that re-purpose every gram of organic material. We have enjoyed seeing vast oceans and small streams that re-purpose every ml of water. Life, human and otherwise, is all about finding a purpose, a reason to exist. When we lose our purpose (i.e., retire), I want to believe that we, too, can re-purpose ourselves. (This re-purpose may be as simple as living a life that experiences joy and beauty in the world around us.) May all of us find joy in our present and future purposes for living!

 

Glad you are still with us on this journey. We look forward to sharing all the joy that comes our way. Thank you!

 

Bob

Unexpected Joys

In the last year, we have stayed in over 50 RV Parks. Some we enjoyed for a day or two while others were home for a week or more. The better parks have at least one element that lingers with me. The KOA in Burlington has a beautiful little stream running through the middle of it. There is limited access to it, and fishing and wading are prohibited. But it does offer a respite from the dust and sunshine of the park itself. It reminds us that we are in an extraordinary place shaped by fire and ice, where mountain streams are the last remnants of a much more turbulent time. I do not know anything about this creek other than it is a little bit of peace in a world sadly in need of all the peacefulness we can get.

 

On Monday, we set out to explore the North Cascade National Park. The hour drive was beautiful, but we watched our warm sunny day in Burlington turn into a gray, cold day in the mountains. We snuck in a quick walk around the Visitor Center, and a few quick stops at the limited overlooks on the Scenic Highway. We found one short trail; the weather was holding off as we braved the riverside trail. Unfortunately, the rain began as we reached the end of that trail, and we headed back to Nakai. When we wander, we have some days that are more challenging than others. This was one of them. (The following story will say more about this little hike.) For now, it is essential to accept the rainy days and Mondays. We wander because we do not control the experiences we seek in our travels. Karen Carpenter's voice echoed in my soul while we returned to our campsite. Yep, rainy days and Mondays get me down, but there is so much more to our journey, especially with my companion in the other seat.

 

That trail that ended in the rain led to this overlook. Yep, it is of a human-made lake behind a 60-year-old dam built to provide power for Seattle. Usually, a National Park trail leads to a magnificent vista that includes waterfalls or some other natural wonder. Nope, not here. We saw an old dam, a monument to human arrogance and greed. In fact, the entire park that we saw was dedicated to what people have done to this pristine wilderness. The salmon and trout have been cut off from their spawning grounds. The Native people have been denied access to their ancient way of life. The downstream portions of the river are no longer regenerated by the periodic flooding that restores balance to the ecosystem. Why? So that the city of Seattle can receive a tiny percentage of the power they use to light an already light-polluted night sky. To add insult to injury of this eyesore, the National Park uses scarce federal funds to celebrate this waste. I sincerely hope that reason will dawn on the Park Service, and they will return this river canyon to its original state and make some amends for the harm that humanity has caused. Then, they can build a National Park worthy of the title!

Mount Shuksan is next to Mount Baker in the North Cascades. The peak is 9,131 ft. above sea level and was formed when North America collided with another plate 120 million years ago. Mount Baker, its more famous neighbor, is a mere 80,000 to 90,000 years old, formed by a series of volcanos that have come and gone. But Mount Shuksan has outlasted them all. The name, Shuksan, comes from the Native American word for “high peak," "high foot," or "golden eagle." It is home to massive glaciers.

 

We first saw Shuksan from Artist's Point, but it was covered in clouds that only revealed tantalizing glimpses of its beauty. After 45 minutes, we decided it was time to return to camp for the evening. We turned a corner along the way, and this image opened before us. I stopped Nakai on the side of the road, pulled out my camera, and played with the mountain for about a half hour. Looking at my Flickr page, you will see many of the shots I took while the mountain and I conversed. (Flickr) Shuksan danced in the clouds like a model while I dutifully clicked the shutter many times. The more I looked, the more I saw. The glaciers sparkled with blue and white. The streams fell off the mountain in shining rivulets. Indeed, I was exhausted, and Shuksan was just getting started. But I bid the mountain goodbye with a last shot showing the highway that would carry us away to Koko and a night’s rest. Thank you, Shuksan, for a beautiful afternoon of wandering among the deep geologic history of our home.

 

Hanging Glacier is a remnant of the last Ice Age when the Pacific Northwest was buried under a colossal ice sheet. These ice sheets sculpted the modern landscape and created massive gorges and mountain ranges. Hanging Glacier is one of several that still flows down the slopes of Shuksan. The blue hue of the lower ice occurs when the weight of the ice and snow squeezes out the air, and the water reflects the pure blue wavelengths of light in the oxygen-hydrogen bond itself. It is a sure sign that the ice is ancient and formed over thousands of years under the weight of tons of pressure. Glacial ice appearing on mountains that are very close to not-so-ancient volcanos suggests that fire and ice are the basic elements of creation. They combine to shape the chaos of creation into something wonderfully mysterious and magical to the human mind. I can only imagine these ancient neighbors' relationship over the last 100,000 years. Fire is doing its work of destruction and creation alongside its co-creator and co-destroyer, ice. Fire and ice! May you grace our lives with your poetic dance for millennia to come.

 

This is Sulphide Creek Falls. It looks like a mere trickle of water. Still, given the size of the mountain, it is a substantial cascade of water. It represents one of the tallest waterfalls in North America. The flanks of Shuksan have many of these waterfalls. Each offers a small contribution to the Skagit River, where the water eventually becomes part of Puget Sound and the Pacific Ocean. That water will connect this mountain with every shoreline on every continent of our planet. As the Hawaiian legends teach, water does not divide us; it connects us. And this water flows from ancient glaciers where the water has been locked up for tens of thousands of years. It connects us with life from the very depths of time itself. The sheer sweep of the eons and the geography time fills me with awe and wonder. We are indeed one community across both time and space. My eyes are opened wide!

 

When our time in Burlington and the Pacific Coast ended, it was time to move on to Gingko Petrified Forest State Park in Vantage, WA. We have spent the last three and a half months along the Pacific Coast and have been touched by mystery, wonder, and joy. Even though this was not the original plan for this trip, I am grateful that the consequences have led us to enjoy a part of the world I did not know I wanted to see and experience.

 

But the 3 ½ hour's drive into the heart of Washington promises a whole new set of wondrous experiences. As we drove over the 5,000-foot Snoqualmie Pass and descended into the hotter, drier high desert, I felt the old wanderlust stirring in my soul. What adventures await us? What more will I discover that I did not even know I wanted to know? I must admit, I love the desert, but we have never been to this part of the Western US, and I can’t wait to see every square inch that our time will allow. Yep, I am excited to be somewhere brand new!

 

Nope, we are not in the Pacific NW any longer. When Marlene posted our drive across Washington with pictures of the dry landscape, one of our FB friends suggested we turn around and return to the coast. But we didn’t. We pressed on to discover what the next couple of months offer. Our wandering is not walking blindly into a new place. But neither is it about doing months and months of research to build a detailed itinerary, complete with all the activities we might want to do. 40 years ago, I learned a planning tool called Open Space Technology. Harrison Owen developed this method to allow large and small organizations to build a plan without wasting time and energy on strategies that would become useless when one element fell through. Instead, it was designed to capture the energy and passions of the people and help them work together to forge the bare bones of a future path. Then, energized by the adventure, it allowed the company or group to seize the day. However, the day evolved.

 

Last year, as I was building this trip's outlines, I knew I wanted to see new places. Marlene had a passion for National Parks. It was reasonable to book a campsite or two across the open desert of Eastern Washington. No, this is not a tourist Mecca like the Columbia River Gorge or the Olympic Peninsula. But, if our first day is any indication, this area has many wonders to behold for those in no hurry to rush on to the next tourist destination. We wander on and celebrate every discovery.

 

Despite our best efforts, we cannot escape the plagues of the 21^st century. In this case, it is the plague of religious intolerance and terrorism. This is a storyboard from the overlook at the Columbia River. This magical area is a wonder of geologic history. The major forces shaping our modern world have been working this magic on the land. If you look closely at this picture, you will see that someone has scratched out the numbers that indicate that these processes took place over hundreds of thousands or millions of years. I can only assume that this is the work of some Christian zealot who believes that the world is 6,000 years old and that public monuments should not contradict their faith. They must feel justified in defacing public property and denying the rest of us of genuine science so that we would only be left with the misguided pseudo-science that makes them feel like they are the masters of the universe. This is religious terrorism, not religious freedom! I was angry, at first, when I saw this pathetic attempt at Christian intolerance. But soon, my anger yielded to deep sadness for a people so profoundly and willfully ignorant that they cannot engage any idea that reaches out to them from their own needs. I take heart in the knowledge that the darkness of ignorance has no chance when the light of truth shines. I can only hope these folks will open their eyes and see the wondrous light of reason that can lift them out of their lives of superstition, despair, and fear.

 

On Thursday night Marlene and I sat out under the stars hoping to glimpse the forecasted Aurora Borealis. I started testing my iPhone camera to see if it would be sufficient for capturing the elusive lights. But in the process, I started looking at the night sky, and the voice of John Denver came to mind as he sang the melancholy ballad that I knew as "Starry, Starry Night." I heard the words as the darkness deepened and the stars began to shimmer in the sky.

 

“Starry, starry night

Paint your palette blue and gray

Look out on a summer's day

With eyes that know the darkness in my soul.”

 

Echoing in my soul.

 

As usual, I spent the rest of the evening bathed in the darkness, intrigued by the stars, especially the Milky Way, as it arched far overhead. I no longer cared if I saw the Aurora. This had been a magical night.

 

The magic lingered into the next day, and my curiosity led me to explore this song. I learned that Don Mclean wrote this song after being inspired by the painting “Starry Starry Night” by Vincent Van Gogh. In fact, he titled the song “Vincent” in homage to the life and death of Van Gogh and the crippling mental illness that led him to paint the “Starry, Starry Night” in the asylum where he lived at the time. I have been listening to this song for over 50 years, and in the last 12 hours, I learned a great deal about the music, the writer, the inspiration for the song, and myself. The final chorus sums up much of what I have come to believe about the future of humanity and our need to listen to poets, artists, and songwriters. They have much to tell us, even when we are not listening.

 

Here is the final chorus.

 

“Now, I think I know what you tried to say to me

How you suffered for your sanity

How you tried to set them free

They would not listen; they're not listening still

Perhaps they never will.”

 

(Words and music by Don Mclean)

 

Thank you, Vincent Van Gogh, for helping me understand your struggle, even when I did not know I had heard it. Thank you, Don Mclean, for having the courage to sing Vincent's truth into our lives, even though you knew most folks were not listening. Most of all, I am grateful to the web of life that helps me to absorb understandings far removed from my knowledge or willingness to learn. Life has a way of sharing itself when all we think we are doing is looking at the stars or listening to a 50-year-old song. I hope to keep on learning and growing.

 

15 million years ago, the area around what is now Vantage WA with a lush, tropical environment. Forests and wetlands stretch to the edges of the volcanos that sit at the edge of the tectonic plates. Over the millennia, the ashfall from these volcanos buried the forest and marshlands. As the land built up over the buried fauna, the groundwater mineralized the tree trunks, and the wood turned to stone. As the area experienced an uplift, the soil began to erode, and 15,000 years ago, the massive Missoula Flood that covered much of Eastern Washington exposed the now petrified wood. In the 1920s, geologists started documenting more than 50 species in this forest. The Civilian Conservation Corps did much of the excavation, and their work led to the site being made into a National Landmark, and the State of Washington designated it as a State Park to protect the area from looters. They covered most of the trunks with soil to protect them. A few were encased in concrete and steel mesh bunkers to keep them safe. These relics of life from 15 million years ago speak to the change inherent to life. We would do well to listen to these soft-spoken witnesses to the power of time to erase and rebuild life. Their whispers can help us appreciate the gift of the present. May we listen and learn well? 

We have spent much of the last 6 weeks along the Columbia River. We saw the mouth where 100s of ships were lost crossing the Bar. We watched the incredible waterfalls of the Columbia River Gorge as they sought out the river. We followed the river through lush forests carrying salmon and other fish into their spawning grounds. This view is of the very same river behind the Wanapum Dam. It sits in the high desert of Eastern Washington. But it was formed by the very same forces. This river and its predecessors predate the volcanoes, the mountain ranges, and the vast open plains.

 

This bluff makes it easy to see the river's power to shape continents. Much of its present shape was formed when an ancient glacial ice dam across the Clark Fork of the river burst and sent a massive torrent of water into the Glacial Lake that covered much of Eastern Washington and the Willamette Valley of Oregon. In time the lake drained, only to with each new glacial period. The present shape was created by the last glacial period that ended 15,000 years ago. With that resulting flow came a new creature, humans, to the gorges and valleys. This new species migrated from Asia and, over the millennia, has changed the river's flow with dams and wiped-out whole categories of life. But we had better listen to those petrified trees above the river. Our time represents less than .001% of the 15-million-year history of this river. Our time is precarious. We are perched on a high bluff over this time. We should enjoy the view while we can.

 

The name of the State Park, Gingko Petrified Forest State Park, was very intriguing. I had heard of the Gingko Tree. It is an Asian ornamental, and I could not imagine why this park was named after it. This picture is of the leaves of a tree they planted outside the Interpretive Center. This tree grew all over the world but now only grows in a small area of China. It has not grown in the wild in North America for 2 million years. But petrified Ginkgo wood is found in very few places beyond this small state park in Eastern Washington. It would have gone entirely extinct except that the Chinese revere the tree as sacred and having healing properties. Thus, it was propagated in gardens throughout the continent. It was brought back to North America as an ornamental tree. The wood is used in making furniture and casks for sake'. The berries are used in Asian holiday cooking. The essential oil in the seeds is still used as an herbal medicine despite the toxic nature of the chemicals in large quantities. It is so revered in Japan that the fan-shaped leaf symbolizes Tokyo. Who would have thought a piece of mineralized wood would have attracted us to the High Desert of Washington?

 

The Wanapum Cultural Center in Mattawa, WA, is a do-not-miss museum along the Columbia River just south of Vantage. This center was built and is operated by the Wanapum tribe, that have lived on these lands for thousands of years. No one really knows how long. These people have not simply survived but thrived in this arid landscape. They never accepted a treaty with the US Government and have stayed on their land, in part because few White People would be able to survive here in the 1800s. When the government wanted to dam the river and flood the land, the Wanapum did not sell their land. They negotiated an agreement to be co-creators of the dams and have a significant say in their destiny. This grows out of deep respect for their land, their traditions, and a radical belief in hospitality. Literally, all are welcome on their lands. They refused to make the Federal Government an enemy and found ways to co-exist. Incidentally, the center is free, and they do not take donations for touring the exhibits. Guests are welcome; I felt it when we first walked in the door. I am in awe of people who have discovered that radical hospitality for the stranger is the key to life in a harsh, unforgiving land. This is not unlike the radical hospitality of the desert people in the Old Testament. It is a shame I had to relearn this in a culture far removed from my roots in Christianity.

 

We made the drive from Vantage on a windy and hot Sunday afternoon. As you have learned, I enjoy driving days and seeing new places. The first part of the road was dotted, literally dotted, with center-pivot irrigated fields. Signs along the way said what was planted in each field. Acres of sweet corn, field corn, potatoes, alfalfa, and Timothy (livestock fodder) surrounded us on both sides of the highway. In time, however, the Geologic name for this area became apparent. These are called the Channeled Scablands because they are composed of a thick basalt shield scoured by glacial movement. Most of the land is barren grassland, inhabited by cows and little else. I must admit, I preferred the desert of West Texas. But, in time, the arid landscape yielded to trees, a creek, and a river. The hills began to return, and by the time we reached Spokane, we were again in a beautiful area. (I realize this is my prejudice, and I hope you, the reader, will consider this.) 

 

We arrived at Spokane KOA Journey in Spokane Valley, WA. This will be the last stop in Washington for this trip. And there is much to explore. We continue to make wonderful discoveries in the most unlikely places. The Museum in Wanapum, the signs along the highway, the Gingko Trees in Vantage, a starry (starry) night, glacial blue ice, and the people and places few have encountered along the way fill me with joy and anticipation.

 

I look forward to having you with us on FB and next week's blog.

 

Bob