Island Time

 Amtrak arrived (late) on Sunday evening, when the train slowed to a stop at the Stanwood station, Inga and Sean deboarded with their luggage. We all loaded into our 4Runner for the short, 7 mile journey to our Pilchuck driveway.

While in Washington, Sean had hopes of riding a Washington State Ferry, just for the sake of having done it. Inga had convinced him that riding the Amtrak train north out of Portland would be a luxurious and stress-free experience compared to driving on I-5 for four hours. Not so much; their assigned passenger car was 'janky' (Inga's word) with seats narrow and not so comfortable, poor USB and internet connectivity and a general beat-down appearance of rail travel. The train experience was disappointing for Sean. Sean hoped his ferry experience would live up to expectations.

Passaged to Friday Harbor
San Juan Island, on the Yakima

We caught the Yakima departing Anacortes at 10:30 AM for San Juan Island on Wednesday, Septembe 23. We made our plans the previous night and risked not making a reservation, trusting that a mid-week, off-season ferry would be able to accommodate us non-planners. The ticket agent at the booth asked, "Do you have reservations?" 

I said, "No sir, I'm not much of what you might call a 'planner.'"

"Well... I think you might be able to make the 10:30." [Duly scolded]

We boarded without an issue. With a blast of the fog whistle, we were under steam to Friday Harbor for a Wednesday adventure.

Sean enjoying his first ferry ride with Inga

We sail into Friday Harbor after a pleasant 1:40 cruise through the many,
small islands in the San Juan achipelago. 

Almost every visit I've made to San Juan Island, I have boarded the ferry as a walk-on passenger. With limited mobility as a pedestrian, we have enjoyed bopping around the city of Friday Harbor, but never venturing any further. I wanted someting different this time. With the newly acquired RAV4, we had the whole of San Juan Island at our whim and beckoning.

It was lunch time. 

It was island time.

It was time for something new. 

One can not get too lost on the island, all roads circle around to the same place, or else cut across the island and then circle back to where one began. Never-the-less, I picked up a paper map from the ferry tourist kiosk for navigation. After driving off the ferry, i said, "Let us bug out of the same ol' Friday harbor and drive to the north end of the island an explore Roche Harbor for some lunch."

As luck would have it, the morning's low clouds burned off, the sun appeared, it was a calm 65 degrees and we found some lunch at the marina with outdoor seating on the water.

Roche Harbor lunch

Dining at Roche Harbor marina

The day was perfect on San Juan Island

We enjoyed walking the intimate confines of the small hamlet of Roche Harbor with its old hotels, a couple of restaurants catering to the sailing clientele and a collections of very well kept and beautiful residences above the harbor.

The harbour was named after the commander of a regiment of British Royal Marines that were stationed here (the American marines occupied the south end of San Juan Island) when a territorial dispute between the boundary of the United States and Canada was in question in 1859. It was resolved by negotions in 1872, giving San Juan Island to the USA, Canada got Vancover Island even though it was south of the 49th parallel that forms [most of] the border between the US and Canada. 

The gardens of Hotel de Haro and the gateway to the harbor marina

Roche Harbor marina

Hotel de haro and the fronting gardens, Roche Harbor

Stop and smell the roses

A veiw down hill from the residential part of Roche Harbor

With our bellies full and our senses charmed by a sunny afternoon in the mid-60's, we left Roche Harbor with hopes of being able to watch whales from an overlook at Lime Kiln State Park, which advertises as the world's best place to see whales from solid land.

We stand, scanning the horizon toward Vancouver Island, British Columbia,
looking for dorsal fins, sprays from a blow hole or a breaching whale. 
We were skunked on this day.

Sue looks to the sea for signs of a whale pod.
It is a whale holiday as it turns out. Nobody shows.

Lime Kiln Lighthouse

Sean's beard matches
the bark of the madrona tree

The breeze kicked up, the tide was running high and fast at the base of the bluff. The weather was clear and we could see in the distance a fleet of commercial whale watching tour boats, presumably following a pod of whales, but too far out in the Haro Strait for us to see any action.

We were skunked when it came to seeing a cetacean breaching the waves. There is a resident pod of orcas that lives in these waters, and transient orcas that move through the area as well as minke whales and gray whales that migrate through these waters traveling between Baja California and Alaska.

There was more of San Juan island to explore. We left the Lime Kiln SP viewing station, driving to the south end of the island. 

The boundary between the United States and British-controlled Canada was yet to be established in the mid-19th Century.

An American settler shot and killed a pig that belonged to the English Hudson Bay Company on San Juan Island. Fearing retribution, the American asked for protection from President Buchanan. He sent a detachment of US Marines.

The English sent a couple of frigates and their own marines to the disputed territory in the Pacific Northwest. The standoff was termed the 'Pig War'. It was settled in 1872 by negotiations without a shot being fired, i.e. after the shot that killed the pig.

Momument to a pig that was shot rooting 
for potatoes in an American's garden

Sue along the South Beach dunes on a wind-whipped afternoon,
San Juan Island

Drift logs along South Beach
are perfect for constructing shelter forts

Inga and Sean at Cattle Point
Southern tip of San Juan Island

It had been a very good day. Inga suggested we return to do a little walkabout on the mean streets of Friday Harbor. 

I agreed. (I had an ulterior motive)

I had snapped at little Inga about 30 years ago when she dropped her ice cream cone at Friday harbor - a nagging memory of poor parenting with longlasting regret. This was my chance at redemption.

We all scream for ice cream!
A Friday Harbor moment of redemption.

I bought ice cream for everyone. 

I bought my redemption with my daughter.

It was the perfect ending to an almost (no whales) perfect day.

Enjoy the journey!

We got in line for 6:20 PM ferry from Friday Harbor back to Anacortes. The Ferry transit worker asked if I had a reservation. I told her I have aroundtrip ticket, but I'm not much of a planner, and no, I do not have a reservation.

"Well... You might be able to make this boat, it'a already at the dock. Lane 5 - keep it tight." [Duly scolded]

"Yes, m'am. Thank you."

P.S.: Sean did enjoy his first ferry boat ride. The return to Portland via Amtrak was equally disappointing as the trip north

To the Ice Cave and Back

 

Big 4 Ice Cave
Mountain Loop Highway

Daughter Inga and boyfriend Sean arrived at the Stanwood Station via Amtrak (late) on Sunday evening. It's 7 miles back to our doorstep from there.

Let the fun begin! We started with some home cooking featuring a seafood risotto that included scallops, shrimp and octopus in garlic and olive oil (a gift from sister Sheri upon her return from the Portugese Azores). Sean has on his list for this 4-day visit, a Washington State ferry ride and a hike.

First, The Hike: We drove to Granite Falls and turned north on the Mountain Loop Highway out of town to the Big 4 Mountain trailhead and parking lot. It was a short hike across a flooded marsh on the elevated boardwalk, across the Stilliguamish River foot bridge and up through the evergreen forest to the base of a spectacular mountain cliff face with the ever-dangerous ice cave at the base of the cliff, beckoning like the song of the sirens, luring the adventurous to their doom. Multiple sign along the trail warn of the four ways to die at Big Four mountain; avalanche, rockfall, ice crevasse and fissures and ice cave collapse.

We looked the ice cave in the mouth and returned with our mortal souls in tact. 

Here are some of the views and color autumn foliage:

Sean, Inga and Sue hikng through the conifers

Inga and Sean risking their life for a photo in front of
the killer Big 4 Ice Cave

Autumn foliage

Spectaculat cliff-face at the end of the trail

Foot bridge crossing the Stilliguamish River

Elevated boardwalk across the beaver marsh

We returned via Costco, bought some salmon and served it with rice pilaf to end the day. 

It was a good day. 

It was an enjoyable journey.

Who could ask for more?

North Cascades Road Trip

 

Autumnal air and fall foliage on the Pilchuck.
Vine Maple turns as wild cucumber fades to pale yellow.

The official end of summer has come and gone, it is now past Labor Day.

I suggest we take a road trip up north, cut east along the Skagit River into its source in the Cascades. After Labor Day I figure the crowds have thinned down and we'll have North Cascades National Park all to ourselves. I am not always right, and this day is one of them. All The trailhead parking was in overflow on this mild Thursday. Thousands of people had the same idea that I did. Oh well, I guess we'll have to share the view.

Liberty Bell at Washington Pass,
North Cascades Scenic Highway

As I close the gate behind us, we have not decided exactly what we are going to do with our day. We could drive up to the crest of the Cascades, descend into Eastern Washington, have lunch and return over the route on which we had just traveled. Or, maybe, we could make a big loop and come back over Stephen's Pass on Highway 2. We decide that we will decide later.

We pull over at Gorge Creek and walk across the bridge spanning a 300' deep crevasse, looking down between our toes through the steel grate at the creek and rocks far below. It's a unique view, Sue says, "I'm glad I'm not afraid of heights."

Gorge Creek far below my toes

We drive over the mountains as the highway winds nestled between tall conifers, obscuring most of the mountain peaks from me as I keep my eyes on the curves. Passenger Sue marvels at brief glimpses of some rocky peaks. 

The North Cascades are touted as 'The American Alps,' though I remark as we drive that this does not really live up to the hype. "I don't think these mountains are all that 'alpiny' (if that's a word). The Alps have broad U-shaped glacial valleys, towering, barren peaks like the Matterhorn. I just don't see that landscape here. A nice place, but not a lot of destination-worthy places like Yosemite, Sequoia Redwoods or even Glacier National Park.

My one hope for a redeeming view is Washington Pass up ahead. I pull off Highway 20 into the Washington Pass Scenic Viewing Area. We are not disappointed. It is a day where the clouds have lifted, a bit hazy from proximal forest fires, but the granitic spires are out in full view.

Huckleberries along the trail give us a
showy fall foliage display.

We stand on a glacially polished platform high above the head of the Methow River Valley, admire the view and debate the geologic structures and possible mineral composition of the rocks before us. We're such excitable nerds on holiday. It's a great day to go stand on some big rocks.

We drop over the pass and follow the Methow River into Twisp. We find a picnic table at the city park alongside the river and eat PB&J and some clementine oranges from the rucksack. We consult the paper road atlas (still don't fully trust nor like using digital navigation apps). We opt to make the big loop.

We leave Twisp, headed toward Wenatchee. A stop at Costco for refueling and then we drive beside numerous apple and fruit orchards. I announce, "It's been a grand day! Let me take you out to dinner in Bavaria." 

The pedestrian street lined with Bavarian shops and eateries,
all in Leavenworth, Washington.

We find a rare parking place in Leavenworth, a town given over completely to Bavarian architecture and Bavarian themed tourist shops and restaurants. It is a tourist destination, replete with a handful of Asian couples coming to America to experience a getaway in the German Alps. Only in America!

Its schnitzel for our supper at Baren Haus

Leavenworth, Washington USA. 
The town is a tourist destination for those looking for 
a Bavarian Alpine experience.

Earlier I had remarked that the North Cascades did not resemble, nor deserve the nickname, 'The American Alps,' but now I realized; The American Alps theme must have originated from Leavenworth Chamber of Commerce. Brilliant!

Tell people this area is the American Alps and then build a town and an entire commercial structure to support the Alpine theme. And you know what? It actually works. Leavenworth is a thriving Bavarian town that sells more than its fair share of beer, schnitzel, sausage and cabbage rolls along with nutcrackers, Christmas decorations and T-shirts. Genius.