Mary – …Brave Horatio followed after

Wending our lazy way home

We had wisps of rain throughout the night but the temperature was pleasant. I was quite comfortable walking to the bathroom in my camp skirt.

Bill cooked another bacon, egg, and potato breakfast while I made the bed and started getting stuff ready for the road.

We got all hitched up and took one more walk to the beach. Saw a seal and piebald grebe.

Wandering home through La Conner, we stopped for coffee and really nice dark hot chocolate and also bought some Christmas presents and a lovely pair of earrings.

Searching for Fish Town

I saw Fish Town on the map and we tried to go there. The county road ended at Swan House Farm’s driveway. They have a lovely sign. The farm stand was open, but we didn’t need produce and couldn’t tell if we could turn around up there. Turned at the end of the county road and headed off again into the light drizzle.

As we backtracked, I looked up Swan House Farm. They are pretty neat. They’re family also owns San Fermo, an Italian restaurant in Ballard. The farm supplies the restaurant produce and meat. I sent a quick email to San Fermo to see if they had enough gluten-free items for Bill and I to visit without being sad.

I also looked up Fish Town. I mean, why was it on the map and not anywhere to be seen?

Fish Town was an artists colony/retreat of the most basic, barely tenable sort. In 1968, an artist dude who turned out to be a white supremacists–which apparently no one knew back then…although his art incorporated Hitler, swastikas, and other hints, people just thought they were allusions to horrible ideas, not a promotion of them. Anyway, this problematic guy, was walking along the beach and noticed some shacks on stilts that looked abandoned and decided to move in.

Apparently they really were (mostly) abandoned. Gill net fishers used to use them as scant comfort while they waited for their nets to fill. As fish stock tanked, regulations to protect them increased and eventually gill netting was banned, so there was no more need for the shacks.

Anyway the guy eventually made an agreement with the land owner to pay a super low rent (maybe a dollar a month or something). Other people started to visit, then stay and Fish Town grew. Some people lived there year round–sogging around during the big grey with no running water and no electricity–ugh! Some just visited to renew their spirit and energy by living simply among the gorgeous Skagit County water and woods. (With, maybe, the occasional horrid neonatzi rant, who knows?)

There were no roads to Fish Town. You either walked the beach, came by boat, or trespassed across several farms — some of which would really rather you didn’t. The last quarter mile was across the swampy ground on a raised boardwalk. Kind of cool, except for the problematic views of some of your neighbors.

Fish Town thrived?? until 1989. A landowner clearcut the forest right up to the colony and that was the end of that.

Again, who knew?

Tulalip Tribes

Our back road route took us through Tulalip lands. Another prompt for reflections. This land is beautiful. There was a small herd of bison, so off I went on another search. Bison aren’t indigenous to this area.

Of course the Tulalip Tribes know this. Bison has been an indigenous food for the people of the great plains forever though and the Tulalip Tribes’ efforts to create an elk farm ran into some difficulties that bison didn’t present. The tribes are encouraging healthy living by making more traditional foodways available. So I get to see bison on my roadtrip! Pretty good all around.

Along the road there were periodic signs with words in English and Lushootseed, the traditional language of the Coast Salish People. Do I remember any? No. Do I LOVE that the signs are there? YES!

The Tulalip Tribes offer a nice guide to visiting. I especially like the section on The People of the Salmon: the story of the tribes that become Tulalip.

There was a lovely sign along this part of the road, “Free apples, U-pick.” That’s my kind of sign. (Mine says “Neighborhood Fruit Fence, pick all you can use.”

Freeways as napping venues

Bill was driving, so I took a nap once we hit the freeway. I’ve seen this bit many times and love to nap in the car. Actually, I love to nap absolutely anywhere and happened to be in a car. Napping makes a long trip shorter.

Then a shower and another nap at home after tucking Brave Horatio away in the garage and hauling the perishables into the house.

Lovely little trip.

Exploring the North end of Whidbey Island

We expected rain so it was great to wake up to a beautiful morning. No rain and not too cold.

Bill had coffee going when I finally came out of our warm nest. That’s typical. I wake up while he’s doing teardrop yoga (putting on his pants) then I either drift back to sleep or stay awake listening to coffee being prepped.

I poured us each a cup and sat by the fire while Bill made potatoes, bacon and eggs. Such a cushy life.

Presidential tantrums

We read about our ridiculous president’s tantrum against Portland and tried to have faith that most people everywhere are kind. (Portland’s a beautiful place to live and visit. If you haven’t experienced it, do go.)

Never thought I’d see the US heading toward a totalitarian state. How can a group of people promote less government oversight of business while at the same time promote government all up in our bedrooms and bathrooms and censoring what we can say? Bully-based power should have been quashed in grade school. I hope we grow up soon.

…back to our head-in-the-sand camping trip.

Dishes and showers

I did breakfast dishes in our super efficient, lightweight, super cheap, small plastic tubs while Bill showered. Our dish tubs are labeled Wash and Rinse (in Sharpie) so the rinse water’s never greasy.

Deception Pass State Park has showers! Yup just push a button, no quarters or tokens required. Cushy life indeed.

Penn Cove

We drove through Oak Harbor and around by Penn Cove, famous for tasty mussels and a horrendous Orca capture in 1970. Orcas stayed away from Penn Cove until last year (54 years later). It’s not enough that we’re horrible to each other, we’re horrible to other species also. Orca are such a treat to see cruising in their element. They travel hundreds of miles a day…not a creature to be kept in any man-made tank.

Fort Casey

Speaking of people being horrible to one another, we visited (and enjoyed) Fort Casey Historical State Park. You can see several batteries (big guns and their supporting infrastructure) from the parking lot. They sit in a serene looking bowl facing out toward the entrance to Puget Sound. The guns and infrastructure are hidden from the water side as are those at Fort Worden and Fort Flagler. These three forts were designed to protect the entrance to Puget Sound. They never fired at an enemy, largely because airplanes made hiding from ships obsolete.

The facilities preserved at Fort Casey are pretty interesting. There’s this weird juxtaposition of tools of war (despite the obsolescence) and the absolutely gorgeous setting. Visually the natural contours blend with the man-made contours and the starkness of the gun emplacements has it’s own kind of beauty — especially in this setting.

Several of the guns are still in place. One in the lower position and one raised. They are (were?) disappearing guns. They hunkered on their haunches until hydraulics raised them up enough to fire. The recoil pushed them back down into place again. All this happened really quickly and must have been dangerous just to be around. It’s very quiet now though.

It’s interesting and, I think, great that there are no railings along the top of the emplacements and you can climb ladders up/down in several spots. The top is just a smooth concrete surface curving down a bit toward the water before going under the grass. The drop from the inside edge to the next (concrete) level down where the guns are is quite a distance and you can walk right up to it. You can also look down the gun barrels and almost everyone I saw, did. Quite a bit of the concrete structure underneath the guns is open so you can walk around a warren of concrete rooms. Again, oddly beautiful in a kind of awful way.

We walked to the water-edge of the grass slope and watched two groups of 4-6 sea lions each doing something very actively at the edge of a rip. They were separate from each other, but not too far apart (maybe a football field or three?). My guess is that they were cooperatively fishing, but I don’t know. We watched them for quite awhile.

Admiralty Head Lighthouse

We ate our banana and snack bar lunch at a picnic table near the lighthouse. It’s just north of the multiple battery facility and just behind another smaller battery…or maybe it wast some other kind of defensive war structure. I guess you could look at both as protective, though one protects without blowing stuff and people to smithereens.

Bridge walk

Some summits are shorter than others

Pre-walk walk

As is typical for us, Bill woke up first and after a short teardrop yoga scramble into his pants he started coffee while I dozed. The morning was soft and nice and our granola an coffee breakfast, just fine.

We walked back to the beach in the lovely morning light and met a four-year-old searching for gold. which he apparently does EVERYWHERE. He and his dad were waiting for their parent-kid hiking group to assemble.

Walking north on the beach we spotted a pair of oystercatchers (they rarely catch oysters) and more cormorants and grebes. We scrambled up the rock to round the point and met a couple making breakfast in the most beautiful breakfast spot. The smell of their bacon added to our morning.

The quartz lines running through the rocks that make up the shore are a bit surreal. It looks like wax has dripped down straightish seams. Maybe that little guy will find his gold.

We found more oystercatchers and a seal.

484 foot high summit

We decided to walk to the top of Goose Rock, the high point of Whidbey Island with 360 degree views. Back at camp, Bill made sandwiches while I washed up from last night and breakfast. We followed directions to the trail past the amphitheater.

The trail was easy to spot. Evergreen Trail Run folks were all set up to cheer on the Fidalgo Trail Run participants. They hollered and rang a cowbell for each passing trailrunner and, after I asked, they hollered and rang the bell for me too!

It was a nice walk and we enjoyed the many different ages, colors, body shapes and paces of the runners. They had several different lengths to choose from, 5k to marathon. Bunch of happy people sharing the trail.

The path offers lots of meanders and we took most of them. We ate lunch on the beach watching people fish and a family enjoy the beach. Their toddler was so absorbed in filling and dumping their toy trucks. It was sweet.

We saw lots of really nice long casts but the only successful catch we saw was a seal’s. It was interesting to watch the seal keep his fish away from the two hopeful gulls that stuck close. They waited patiently when the seal was under but I don’t think they got even a bite.

The path went right under the bridge. What a cool perspective. Then up pretty steeply, but not for long and we were out on top. The parent-kid hikers were there too. Playing tag, and talking, and having lunch on the top of this piece of the world.

We headed back down a different route and were passed by more trail runners. I think some of the marathon length runners passed us three or four times.

It was a good walk and helped us enjoy our campfire roasted bratwurst, baked bean and potato chip supper.

The weren’t a many Screech owls last night (or immature owls, or whatever that whistley screetchy noice was).

Short trip after a long hiatus

Bill has been working long hours for months and finally managed to free up a couple days so we could have a long weekend camping trip. After not camping at all in 2024, it’s nice to realize that Brave Horatio is still super simple to prep.

We had the wheel bearings checked and repacked. Remade the bed. (Brave Hotatio provides an extra guest bedroom when he’s in our garage.) Swapped some clothes in and out. Refreshed the pantry and precooled the cooler. Ready!

Friday morning instead of heading upstairs to work in separate bedrooms, we’re headed north through an absolutely gorgeous morning toward breakfast.

Breakfast on the road

The Wren’s Nest in Tacoma is wonderful for people with Celiac. Their totally gluten free kitchen creates some pretty magnificent breads, cinnamon rolls, quiches, and hand pies. We don’t get to indulge like this very often.

Last Sunday we had a little adventure picking new native plants for our yarden at Woodbrook Native Plant Nursery in Gig Harbor. We planned to stop at Wren’s Nest for breakfast but the line was so long, maybe 50 people! We were happy that they had so much business but took our hungry selves to the Hob Nob.

We love the Hob Nob too. Their Bennie browns (eggs Benedict that swaps in hash browns for the English muffin) are so good we rarely order anything else.

But this morning, Wren’s Nest.

The line was short and the quiche and cinnamon focaccia delicious.

We made a short stop at Central Coop for the butter and lettuce we forgot. Bonus! They had some beautiful cards so now I do too.

It’s a lovely drive through Ruston and along the parkway back to I-5. Ruston is as quirky and charming as it was when we lived in Tacoma in the 1980s. (Minus the creepy dripping tunnel, acres of horsetail, and looming smokestack.)

The park along Schuster Parkway continues to impress me with the diversity of people using it. We need more spaces that people from different backgrounds routinely share.

Past the Tacoma Art Museum and the old Brown and Haley’s building, through the kind of lovely swoop of interchange and onto I-5 North.

Seattle

The ball at the top of Smith Tower is particularly noticeable today. (Did you know there’s an apartment at the top?)

We’ll be doing this same trip, but farther north, in a couple weeks for another long weekend on Bowen Island with friends we met in college. We’re staying in a rental cottage. Brave Horatio has to stay at home.

…and farther north

Past the ponds near Everett with geese lined up neatly along the banks, but not many other birds. Across the Stillaguamish with people lined up along the banks fishing. Down through the Skagit Valley remembering the flooded fields on the way to Thanksgiving on Galliano Island in 19xx.

Traffic’s been pretty reasonable. There’s been only one squirrelly driver. They were plenty squirrelly though. Zipping across lanes and jogging back in so close to other cars. Yikes! Don’t do that.

Finally off the freeway heading toward Whidbey Island. Usually when we’re out this way we’re headed to the San Juans. Today we’re headed to Deception Pass State Park.

I’ve driven down Whidbey Island once. Sarah and I spent a meandering day bringing her home from WWU. We drove the length of the island that day, had a nice picnic, a short walk, and nearly missed the last ferry off the south end. (I seem to remember some young men at a gas station inviting us to a party also. Can that be true?)

At the campground

We set up in campsite 103 with jets from the nearby air station roaring overhead. Quite a juxtaposition. Wood and water and quiet with frequent loud reminders of the outside world. We’re really close to town here.

My pick for the perfect site is 117. Nearer the water and nice set up for us. But 103 is really nice.

We walked to and along the beach. There’s an amazing old Doug Fir all contorted and dancing instead of tall and straight. Beautiful.

We chuckled at the sign explaining about human impact. It totally ignored the large house nicely framed by the sign. We try to be aware of fragile ecosystems and certainly didn’t stray off this path, but I’m pretty sure that house also had a large impact.

Got a nice close look at a pair of sandpipers. Such pretty little birds. Also lots of seagull, cormorant, and some grebes. No eagles.

My chocolate cheesecake from the Wren’s Nest was a more than ample lunch. It got me all nicely set up for a nap.

We had a taco dinner planned, but after our large lunch we scrapped those plans in favor of crackers and cheese.

Finished off the day with Balvenie Doublewood and a cribbage game by the campfire while listening to something screech-whistle all around the campground.

It’s good to finally be on another small adventure with Brave Horatio.

Camp Dewatto Weekend

We have marvelous friends. So many marvelous friends.

Mark and Jess invited us to join them at Camp Dewatto and we were pleasantly surprised to find Julie, Doc, and Marsha there that weekend too.

We drove up on Friday evening, tried and failed to find milkshakes along the way, and arrived just in time for cocktails.

Saturday was hot. Really hot. Doc played early morning guitar by the clubhouse. Jess and I walked down by the creek. Then everyone else played music in the shade while I picked salal berries.

After naps we headed to a bar in Belfair looking for air conditioning and an audience (we called first). They welcomed us and we spent several lovely hours singing and playing for some really nice folks. One guy left and brought back his wife!

Salmon, herbed rice, shrimp, ribs and salad…with my not-so-great salal sauce on the side–I added too much honey.

We drank our Sunday morning coffee to Jess playing whistle in the tea/tree house–it’s great to have a soundtrack to your morning.

A Sunday walk around a nearby Boy Scout Camp that has seen better days and apparently will again, and home we went.

Relaxing and lovely. Thanks Camp Dewatto!

Wildflowers all the Way to Wallowa

Staging our start

This trip had a staged start. I spent the week prior at a conference in Spokane while Bill worked from our rented digs. We’d parked Brave Horatio at my sister’s house in Mead and enjoyed visiting them from Friday evening to Sunday morning. (Hi Bridget and Dan!) We also had dinner with my nephew and his family on Wednesday. Hazel is 10-months old and quite a hoot.

Spokane toward Wallowa Lake

We left Spokane headed toward the Wallowa Mountains. Our route took us through three states by way of Lewiston, Clarkston, and Enterprise. There were vast fields of wildflowers all along our route. The rolling hills of the Paulouse was a tapestry of all shades of green interrupted by punches of chartreuse and yellow fields of canola (rapeseed). Wildflowers edged the road and fields. Beautiful.

We were surrounded by a swarm of bees when we stopped for gas in Lewiston. I love bee swarms. It’s invigorating to be in the middle of the swirl and the BUZZ. Swarms are loud. They quickly crossed the gas station and side road headed for some trees. Hope the found a great new home.

We didn’t take the Spiral Highway into Lewiston Idaho, though I kind of wish we had. Even without the spiral, the drop into Lewiston was spectacular as was the long climb up to the plateau out of Clarkston. Wildflower everywhere. That high plateau out of Lewiston is like being on top of the world.

wildflowers everywhere
On the ground
on the map
Dramatic skies and more wildflowers

Winding back down to the Grand Ronde from the plateau was spectacular too. We stopped to look at the roadside flowers and grasses and the river. Beautiful!

Elderberry, mock orange, penstemons, wild geranium, lupine, vetch, blanket flower, brown-eyed susan, wild rose, green false hellebore, mouse-on-a-stick, asters, and more and more.

We passed a café/tavern with a dozen motorcycles out front and headed back up to the flower-covered top of the world.

On the advice of Bill and Heather, we stopped at Terminal Gravity in Enterprise. So cute, so full. Such nice staff running so fast. Nice nachos!

Heading east to the Imnaha

We spread our maps on the table and narrowed down our campsite search area. Earlier we’d put stars on two areas of the map. There were several possible campgrounds along Lostine River Road west of Wallowa Lake and another bunch on forest service roads off Wallowa Mountain Loop southeast of the lake. There wasn’t a timely way to check out both. We opted for Wallowa Mountain Loop and ended up in maybe our best campsite ever.

Campsite 12 in Indian Crossing NFS campground off forest service road 3960 is spectacular. Indian Crossing is at the end of road 3960. Cross the bridge, take the first left, and follow it all the way to the loop at the end. Site 12 is on the river side of that little loop. A huge campsite right on the Imnaha River with forest, a small meadow, and a huge rock accessible from the other side of the loop. We placed Brave Horatio right up in there and watched the evening darken from our rocking chairs by the river.

Homeward bound

We woke up about 7 after a snug night’s rest. Our ferry reservation was for 9:50, so we didn’t have to rush. I started coffee and heated up the 5 Bs bakery cinnamon rolls in the dutch oven. Bill took down the purple batwing.

We had a last leisurely island drive into Friday Harbor, parked in the standby lot and got coffee at the convenient stand across the street.

There were a grand of 18 vehicles and two e-bikes on the Chelan as we left Friday Harbor. The e-bikes got off on Lopez Island and 17 more vehicles boarded, including a small school bus. I thought our boat over was empty–this one was ever so much more so.

I like signs and ferry signs do not disappoint.

I have a habit of obtaining maps after they’re needed. I’m always better prepared for the next time out. The map from the realty office served us well, but I wanted a larger map that showed all the islands in some detail. The kind lady at the Anacortes Visitors Center directed me to Marine Supply & Hardware. This is my kind of store…and they had the perfect map!

I explored the map and looked up information about Deception Pass State Park. I’m thinking about Bowman Bay. If I’m lucky we’ll reserve site 280. I’ve got an alert set on my phone to make the call. Fingers crossed. (I don’t really like to plan so far ahead. Figuring out the exact time to call to reserve a top spot is not my thing, but I’m going to try it this once.)

Back at home we put Brave Horatio to bed, popped the 5 Bs bakery chicken pot pie in the oven and relaxed.

Whales! We Saw Whales!

The whales we saw were likely the transient T2C pod minus T2C4. The Center for Whale Research reports an encounter same day, same time, same general location. Apparently these four Orca had been hunting a lone minke whale, but gave up that chase prior to our sighting. (We did hear about others who saw a minke whale a bit farther south.)

This family of Biggs Orca includes Tumbo (T2C2). Tumbo has scoliosis. His family takes care of him–bringing him dinner and circling back to make sure he doesn’t get too far behind. One of Tumbo’s aunts had a condition that caused partial loss of pigmentation and an uncle had a malformed jaw.

It makes me happy to know the names of the whales we saw. I’d still like to see some of our Southern Resident Orcas (now down to a total population of 73 individuals).

Sara Shimazu, one of Maya Legacy’s captains, shares marvelous photos and information about the Orcas of the Salish Sea through patreon, instagram, and facebook. Sara is a great photographer with a vast love for Orca.

I wish someone would create baseball-like cards for Orca. I’d like to be able to flip through them to see if I could ID individuals. (If you know where to obtain these, please let me know.)

Other delights

The whales were a BIG highlight to the day, but it was great in other ways too.

I took my coffee, boots, the wine guys, and a canoe I found on Deadman’s bay down to the tiny beach below our campsite. Bill joined us with his camera. Wine guys off on an adventure!

Looking for Orca

Bill and I usually spend between 5 minutes and 15 minutes at viewpoints. This morning we `resolved to go to Limekiln prepared to observe. We loaded coffee, cookies, scope, binoculars, camera, a waterproof blanket, and field guides into packs and walked down to the lovely observation point.

Limekiln is one of the best places for spotting whales from land. Whoever laid out the picnic tables did a stellar job. They are scattered along the trail. Not obtrusive for trail walkers and offering great views of Haro Straight to table sitters.

I would have been proud of us, even if we didn’t see whale. We stayed and watched for several hours. We met Victoria Obermeyer, videographer and co-producer of Co-Extinction a documentary about Southern Resident Orca. AND we saw whales!

Disaster averted

Suffused with the beauty of the world, I took a short solo walk down the little path off the south end of the meadow. I exchanged hellos with the couple smoking their picnic and walked to the point above the larger bay (Smallpox bay, poor thing). It’s a short, but beautiful walk. A perfect little piece of calm after watching Orca.

As I wandered back to camp, I was pondering the benefits of hot cocoa versus tea versus decaf. I put the kettle on and reached for and didn’t find my mug.

I did a quick search of Brave Horatio’s galley, the picnic table, and the camp. No mug.

It slowly dawned on me that I’d brought my coffee to the beach to launch the wine guys on their adventure. I couldn’t remember having it when I returned. Oh no!

I slowly walked to the meadow and down to the tiny beach. This morning the rock on the beach was high and dry. Now it was surrounded by water to at least knee-depth. The tiny beach was super tiny, just a little crescent of dry. No mug in sight.

I walked back up to the meadow and around to approach the tiny beach from the rock side. I could just see the silver glint of my mug nestled under the water among bladder wrack. Sadly it was maybe waist deep and a couple yards offshore. Luckily, it looked to be constrained by a little curve of rock.

Back at camp I shared the sad plight of my coffee mug with Bill. He asked if I thought I could get it with a stick. Nope.

A few minutes later Bill got that look on his face–the one that means he’s thinking strategically. He started taking down a tarp pole.

Bill doesn’t talk while he’s thinking. He often doesn’t talk when he’s putting his plans into action. You have to ask.

He was thinking of sacrificing a roasting fork–to make a hook to gaff tape to the end of a loooooong tarp pole–to use as a coffee mug fishing pole. I suggested using one of our many tent pegs. Some have nice size hooks.

I convinced Bill to construct the super long pole after we reached the fishing point. I didn’t want to do the walk of shame past our camp and meadow neighbors. Conspicuous weirdos off to fish for a mug.

Bill’s boots are higher than mine and he’s got way better hand-eye coordination. He carefully stepped into the bladder wrack and extended the tarp pole hook (about 10 foot of it). A few seconds later my mug was safely home!

Shopping San Juan

It’s still mid-Covid and also, we’re camping, so we didn’t explore many stores in Friday Harbor. The bookstore was pretty fantastic, the co-op too. I, however, was on a search for honey. Wherever I go, I look for local honey. I love the variety of flavors from different locales. Honesty stands are also one of the joys of my life (people TRUST me…there’s hope for the world). I also enjoy talking with and buying from farmers.

We pulled into Amaro Farms in search of honey and stayed to talk to xxxx about Flat Hat Distillery and Amaro’s Valais sheep. The restored barn that Flat Hat shares with the farm store is so gorgeous. They didn’t have honey, but we left with some tea and a small flock of stuffed lambs for our grandniblings.

Fine dining Brave Horatio style

San Juan Island Food Coop provided us with 5 Bs bakery cinnamon rolls for tomorrow’s breakfast, a frozen chicken pot pie for tomorrow’s dinner, and a Brown Bear Bakery gluten free boule for tonight’s for crab feast.

We found the best seafood market down on the Friday Harbor docks. It welcomed us in with bright painted fish and flowers and friendly staff.

When deciding on whole crab or crab meat, remember only about a quarter of the weight of a whole crab is meat. Multiply the cost of whole crab by four–and think about what you will do with the aromatic remains at your campsite. We popped for pre-picked crab–quite a lot of it.

It was raining when we got back, but it finally eased off then stopped. While we were waiting out the rain we got new neighbors, a Sprinter van decked out for camping and shared by a bunch of friends from Santa Cruz.

The weather finally cooperated and we heated our bread and a little pot of butter over the campfire. We had a beautiful dinner with Michael and Jan last week that included a bottle of Michael’s viognier (very nice!). Michael gifted me with a bottle of his Roussanne for this trip and I was excited to try it. Roussanne is not a wine I’m familiar with. It was soft and lovely and perfect for the evening. Thanks Michael!

We sat by the fire in our camp rockers dipping crab meat in the pot of warm butter. Warm butter dipped crab alternated with warm bread and sips of nice `wine is an amazing way to end an evening!

One of many Agaricus campestris in the meadow

Salted Honey Caramels Instead of Cake

We woke up to a bit of rain and decided to leave the batwing battened down and head into town for breakfast. That’s one of the joys of camping at this county park, Friday Harbor is just 20 minutes away.

The Rocky Bay Cafe on Spring Street proved to be a great choice. Everyone was masked and respectful. The staff were cheerful and engaging. They were looking forward to a cafe staff trip to Las Vegas the next day. Kind of cool!

I had eggs benedict over hash browns (I almost always have eggs benedict if it’s an option) and Bill had eggs, bacon, and toast. The food was good and the coffee hot and frequently refilled. We sat at a window seat and watched the soft rain. Warm and comfortable.

The rain dropped to a mist and we headed to the farmers’ market. We picked up a really nice map outside Coldwell banker on our way.

What a great market! Vegetables, meat, foraged food, bakery items, artisans, and live music. San Juan Island Sea Salt, Cady Davis Creations, San Juan Silk (Mary Sly), and Inspired Earth Tea got our custom, but we loved it all.

Cady Davis Creation Bill bought me for my birthday. Cady found the beach glass on Brown Island, just across from Friday Harbor.

Westside Preserve

After spending some time in town, we headed back to the west side of the island. We walked around the Westside Preserve and parked at Limekiln Point State Park.

It’s way up above the water. What’s it for?

Limekiln Point and Deadman Bay

There’s lots to look at on the path to Limekiln Point

Of course we looked for whales, but we looked while we walked the third-mile trail to Deadman Bay. It’s a nice trail right along the headland. Deadman Bay is beautiful–a sheltered sunny spot on this unexpectedly fine fall day. (some of our camping neighbors let us know that they had big hiking plans, but took a three-hour nap on the beach here instead.)

We walked back from Deadman Bay and continued on past the lighthouse. All the while keeping our eyes out for whale.

We didn’t spot whale, but our camp neighbors saw a pod heading north just off the county park. (We had great camp neighbors, including a UW professor who studies raptors in the Amazon and teaches classes about crows–Hi Ursula! Hi Todd!)

English camp

After lunching on toasted ham and cheese sandwiches back at Brave Horatio, we headed to the north end of the island and English Camp. Totally different situation from American Camp. This end of the island is low and forested. English Camp is on the beach meadow of Garrison Bay and the adjoining uplands. Garrison bay has only a narrow opening connecting it to the rest of the Salish Sea. From Haro Straight you take Mosquito Pass and the small opening into Horseshoe Bay, turning before Bell Point into Garrison Bay.

It’s a pretty idyllic place, beautiful and bountiful.

The emphasis on disputes between colonizers and the ever larger houses on the island remind me that I am on the traditional lands and waters of the Coast Salish people, including Lummi, Saanich, Samish, Semiahmoo, Songhee, Sooke, and Swinomish. These nations, current and historic, care for and harvest this land. I honor their inherent, aboriginal and treaty rights passed down through generations.

Roche Harbor

I guess Sarah and I used a bit more propane than I thought on our Ozette Lake adventure. Our chubby little tank ran out at lunch. We had several smaller bottles, but decided to see if we could fill chubby back up. We took a detour to Roche Harbor.

I love the road to Roche Harbor. I love the airstrip where planes share space with geese. I love the sculpture garden. I do not love Roche Harbor. It’s a bit too twee, a bit too privileged, a bit too buttoned up. As an antidote, it also has some nifty history and art.

Cool old equipment from the generator plant.

We poked into the Company Store and they explained how to get our propane fill (meet guy by the old generator plant and pay down at the fuel dock). Don’t plan to buy hardware here–they have lots of wine though.

Evening at the park

San Juan County Park is a beautiful place to camp. Site 10 is just off the high meadow. There is a tiny beach just below us accessed by a path just around the corner. On the other side of the meadow is a trail out to the point of the larger, but still small, bay. Beautiful.

The weather moved between mist and clear so we started a campfire. We’d picked up some drier wood at a stand outside the park so tonight’s fire was easier to start and didn’t need attention every few minutes. We opened some wine enjoyed the flames while we waited for coals.

My wine guy jumped ship and was rescued by Bill.

We grilled our dinner of steak and asparagus over beautiful coals. A couple of asparagus spears leapt into the fire, but we had lots, so no worries. We ate in the dark warmed by the fire. In lieu of a birthday cake, we enjoyed San Juan Island Se Salt honey caramels purchased at the Farmers Market this morning.

Beautiful day! Beautiful evening!

Mid-October Island Idyll

Olympia to San Juan Island

We planned on a Friday–Tuesday long weekend, but the federal case Bill testified for last month ended in a hung jury so he needed to testify at the new trial. Not much we could do about the court schedule, so we’ll head back on Monday. I’ll miss our extra day on the island, but having a whole day to unpack, do laundry, and dry out the batwing will be nice.

We got up at 3am in order to get kayaks on Freya, do some final food packing, and make our 9:30 ferry reservation.

There was a surprising amount of traffic, but it mostly moved right along. We got to Anacortes in time to board the 8:30 boat. Nice!

Freya starting her swim to Friday Harbor

Such an empty ferry

I’ve never been on a less crowded ferry. Tomorrow the ferry system is going to remove some boats because of lack of riders (and maybe labor shortages). We were between a dump truck bringing gravel to the island and a state patrol car. Most of the other lanes were empty.

I love ferries!

One interesting thing about Covid is walking around on the car deck while the ferry is underway. They usually discourage this—it’s a little Covid perk. I like the interesting new perspective on the water and islands.

We drove through Friday Harbor in a gray drizzle—not cold, just gray.

San Juan is one of the larger of the San Juan Islands, but it’s not very big. There are lots of routes that get you to the County Park. We arrived via Beaverton Valley, West Valley, and Mitchell Roads.

Preparing for a gale

Deploying the purple batwing in advance of the gale

We camped at this park in August a couple years ago and enjoyed great weather and an even better Maya’s Legacy whale watch excursion. The weather forecast for this trip was quite different. We were expecting rain every day and gale-force winds starting at about 5:30 this first evening and lasting for 24 hours.

We spend some time deploying the purple batwing to accommodate our evening cooking and figuring out how to batten it down for the night.

Friday Harbor

Then we left for a lunch of shepherd’s pie in Friday Harbor. It was reasonable, but not great. We poked around Friday Harbor for a bit. Wandering the docks and buying Christmas gifts as the excellent Griffin Bay Bookstore.

Our last trip to San Juan County Campground was a hurried weekend centered around a marvelous whale watch excursion with Maya’s Legacy. (They’re great! If you can afford it, take one of their tours. The boats are perfect and the people knowledgeable and friendly.)

Maya’s Legacy at the dock in Friday Harbor

On this trip we planned to explore the island more.

Off on a ramble

We drove to American Camp on the South end of the island. The exposed headland prairie was beautiful and standing on the redoubt echoes with shadows of indigenous people gathering camas and the early American soldiers who pushed them out.

I spotted a fox and we watched it for awhile as searched for dinner on a grassy hill. Gorgeous. San Juan Island foxes are all Vulpus vulpus (red fox) though they come in many colors).

San Juan Island red fox come in all colors

We drove back to camp via False Bay and stops at several viewpoints. This island is full of beautiful spaces.

So many birds

A kingfisher was perched on a twig on the beach near the park store. Great blue herons were on the hunt, and a red tail hung pretty close to our camp site. As we were starting our campfire, we heard an almighty racket and followed it to the meadow overlooking Haro Straight. A large group of seagulls, loons, and grebes were feasting on something right below our feet. We never spotted it as it was wedged into a rock crevice, but we could smell it. We sat on the bank and watched them enjoy themselves. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many loons in one place. There must have been a couple dozen of them.

So many boats

San Juan County Park is on Haro Straight, a busy shipping channel. The hour and a half long ferry ride also winds among boat traffic. There were plenty of opportunities for Bill take pictures. Here are some of my favorites.

Island evening

The gale hadn’t yet materialized, but we expected it at any minute. We changed our dinner plan from campfire grilled steak to warmed up white beans. In the end the gale held off long enough for us to warm the beans over our campfire.

There were difficulties with both beans and fire. The beans were still frozen and, since I froze them in a jar with a smallish top, they were pretty hard to transfer to the dutch oven. The firewood was a bit wet, it took considerable kindling and acting as human bellows to get and keep it going. We persevered and prevailed with both. Eating piping hot beans with warm French bread next to a cheerful campfire was worth the effort.

The wind picked up as we washed dishes and brushed our teeth. We lowered the batwing, tied it taut and retreated into Brave Horatio.