A Cake to Bake. A Birthday to Break.

Yes, we have all the eggs.

Yes, we have the powdered sugar and vanilla.

And Yes, we have the berries.

Mother and daughter get to mixing and making and baking an angel food birthday cake.

This is perfect.

The oven is preheated. 

The timer is set. 

The batter is poured into the appropriate pan. 

The plea goes out, "We need a bottle with a long, thin neck to hold the angel food cake pan upside down when it comes out of the oven. I head through the pantry door toward the basement to find a suitable long, thin-necked wine bottle for the job. A Chateau Ste. Michelle chardonnay bottle is selected and placed on the counter top, ready to let the culinary confection cool when it comes out of the oven.

The timer goes off. The cake pan is removed and place upside down on the neck of the wine bottle. A job well down. It's all over but the shouting.

Then a soft one-hump whump. And then the shouting. Whump just happened?

Half of the baked cake flopped out of the upside down pan. This wasn't supposed to happen. Yikes. Check your setting. Aw, it was supposed to bake at 375 F - but the oven was set to the default and only baked at 350 F. 

It's edible. A little gooey. But edible. Just dump a boat load of fresh berries on it, light it up with some candles and it will be fine.

***

Meanwhile, back at the ranch...

Dad is tasked with cooking the requested steak dinner out on the grill on the south deck. Make them steaks red, bloody, juicy and rare are my instructions (except for mom, ruin hers by cooking real thorough). 

Sean cuts up the Champaign mangoes he has brought to the party table

A birthday steak dinner is served

And now... it's time for the birthday cake.

Umm, maybe if we all sing real loud and dad is exceptionally off-key as usual, maybe nobody will care if the fallen angel food cake is a bit lopsided.

Make a wish!

Happy Birthday Inga!

Bushel Basket of Biringer Berries

 A day of transition was scheduled for Thursday, June26; we would wave goodbye to Greg and Glenda in the bright morning after several marvelous days as they departed for their overnight stay booked at the scenic Snoqualmie Falls before they flew back to Texas. Just after Greg and Glenda drove off down my driveway, I folded down the backseats in the 4Runner and loaded up with Sue, Kaileen and Grant for a 100 mile trip south to pay a lunchtime visit to Grandpa Al, my 94 year old father. Grant's idea and request.

Once we got to Tumwater, I ordered pizza for 11; the four of us down from The Pilchuck, we would rendezvous with Inga and Sean up from Portland, and we were expecting my nephew Brian, his wife Amy and their two young girls to join us all for a pizza party at Grandpa Al's senior residence. We enjoyed our pizza party in the Green Room reserved for Grandpa's guests that afternoon, catching up on everyone's goings-ons. 

Brian had to get back to work, Grandpa had a dental appointment and my sister Sheri came to get him at 3, drawing the party to an end. Inga and Sean continued on north to The Pilchuck for a complete Suneson gathering of us elder folks, our kids and their partners. This is what I had long dreamed of having happen at our place on The Pilchuck. I was thrilled to have the whole family under my green gabled roof.     

Berry Pickers
Sean, Inga, Sue, Grant & Kaileen

We actually had a plan in the morning. 

We would venture out under pewter skies and light mist to hunt red berries. Just south of Arlington is Biringer Farms, a U-Pick berry place that offered all the strawberries and raspberries you could want - and more.

Our ride into the berry fields

We grabbed our picking baskets lined with a shallow cardboard box and stepped up to find a seat on the trailer and said to the tractor driver, "Start your engine and bring me to your best, ripest berry patch!" 

With a putter of the diesel engine and shift of the gears, we were on our way to fresh sweetness. Oh what a glorious ride.

The excitement builds
Sue points out the area of sweetest strawberries to Inga

Our tractor driver came to a stop at the edge of the farm, letting us know some of the best ones were right here, hiding underneath those green, mist-moistened leaves, low to the ground. 

We knew what to do.

Sean leans into his task
lending his expert eye to selection of only the finest strawberries

Of course, nobody knew better than Sean. Sean with years of berry and produce expertise from years in the produce department at Fred Meyer's flagship grocery store in Portland, Oregon, would not stoop to pick just any red strawberry, it had to be up to his high standards. Sean picked us some dang good strawberries that morning.

Inga and Sean working the raspberry rows after loading up on strawberries 

Grant displays one of those 'berry eatin' grins' that one gets as one constantly tastes from the vine to be certain that this is a nice and sweet berry maker of a plant. We all did a lot of sampling on our way through the berry patch that cool morning.

Sue with a handful of juicy sweets - one for the basket & two for the tummy

A peck of rootin' tootin' red raspberries

Back at the Biringer Barn, we weighed our harvest, at least the boxes full of berries. It's a good little 'gimme thing' that the farm doesn't weigh us before and after our trip into their fields.

Our total for a quick morning's work:

    Strawberries 6.17 lbs @ $4.75 per lb

    Raspberries  4.77 lbs @ $6.50 per lb.

Now, what would we choose to do with our 11pounds of fresh berries?

Like I said at the top, we had a plan.

Inga was having a birthday celebration tomorrow, and there was not even any discussion of options as to how that birthday celebration would happen. For Inga it is always an angel food cake. And what should one put atop an angel food cake?

    Candles!

    Yes, of course. But what else besides candles?

    Berries!

    Yes, of course. Lots and lots of fresh berries.

And we now have some nice birthday berries to complement the homemade angel food cake ready to be baked.

Thus, it was a fruitful morning among the berry patch at Biringer Farms.

The Tide is High

It seemed like a good idea at the time.

One of my favorite, little know spots of tranquility and beauty is towering conglomeratic outcrop charted as Delta Rock, jutting above an undiscovered beach and accessed through a marshy, at times muddy, tideland. As tour guide for my summer visitors I had a couple of ideas - good ones, or so I thought.

Idea 1: We will  drive across the Rainbow Bridge (yes, this is the real name of the bridge leading from Fidalgo Island to La Connor. One is to remember your dead pets on your way into down over the Rainbow Bridge) where we will enjoy a late lunch. For dessert, we will cross the Skagit River to Fir Island and fill ourselves with what are billed as 'immodest ice cream cones' at the famous Snow Goose Produce Stand. Idea 1 turned out to be a good idea.

Idea 2: After stuffing ourselves with an immodest amount of fruit flavored creamy cold goodness, I will lead our party on a hike across the tidal flat to Delta Rock for a serene view at the edge of the sound and the idyllic sandy beach at the mouth of the Skagit River.

Sue lead the way through cattails and reeds
on the tidelands trail to Delta Rock

The tideland trail began relatively dryish as it threaded the way through tall cattails, reads and over rivulets of tidal channels incised into the mudflats.

There were soggy parts. there was maybe some hesitation, but I led onward in the name of enjoying the journey and for the view awaiting us bold travelers.

Then, there were wetter parts. Socks and shoes got soaked. We pushed onward toward Delta Rock rising in the middle distance but half a league onward.

Picking our way through a muddy tidal flat

  We waded, we wallowed, we was wet. 

I had not expected our path to be so sodden. The tide must have come in. 

The mouth of the Skagit inundated by high tide 

Where I expected beach was covered in salt water,
prime conditions for shrimp boats just beyond Delta Rock

We clambered up the side of Delta Rock. There was no beach. The tide was high and had covered the lonely stretch of sand I was expecting on this late fine, summer afternoon. Instead, there were several boats fishing with nets during this opportune high tide at the mouth of the Skagit.

I apologized to my party. It was beautiful scene all the same, but missing elements of sand bars and a long, lonely stretch of fine beach sand. Timing is everything.

Sunesons and Gauls take in the westward view from the brim of our solid  high ground

Muddier on the way out 
than on the way in. Yuck!

We scrambled off our perch above the rising tide, a tide higher than average. We discovered that our path out was now wetter, soggier and mud muddier than when we came in.

There was just no way to avoid wading through knee-deep tidal channels to get back to the cars. It was not a disaster, but it was not all that pleasant of a way to end the day.

I had hoped for better for my guest whom I had led astray through marsh, matted marine grass and mud.

It's a good thing that I designed my house with a mud room. Upon return to The Pilchuck, we bowed and muddied six, all scraped off our soaked shoes, wrung out our sodden socks and peeled out of our soiled pants. Thus began a long evening of laundry.

Lesson learned: check your tide tables.

Like Blondie and I were saying, it seemed like a good idea at the time. But I'm not the kinda guy that gives up just like that...

The tide is high, but I'm movin' on.

From Toes in the Breakers to Heads in the Clouds

While on Fidalgo Island, it was a short drive from the gravel shores of Rosario Beach to the rocky heights of Mount Erie. Hoping for a break in the clouds and the inspiring view from the crest of Mt. Erie, we left our sea level adventure for a mountain top experience - if not view.

The view from the top of Mount Erie was not extensive,
but we could see an island in a lake on an island.

 

Sunesons and Gauls gather in the amongst the clouds 
Mount Erie overlook.

We had gone from an elevation of 0 feet at sea level to a height of 1,273 feet.

We got a sense of the islands and channels beyond Fidalgo and Whidbey Islands. Then we got hungry and thought a return to La Connor for lunch would be a good idea. And it was.

Rosario Beach, Tidepools and Headlands

 The sun rose on another day in the pacific Northwest.

Or, as is often the case the darkness became a lighter gray signaling it was daytime.

Either way, our guests, the Gauls, described their approach to vacations as a "time to assault the location." The assault was scheduled after we had a leisurely breakfast, the target was Rosario Beach.

Grant explores Rosario Tidepools

Rosario Beach is a State Park with rocky headlands and of interest to us and most everyone that visits, are the tidepools and the chance to see some amazing marine creatures.

We walked down to the shoreline and crept over the barnacle-covered rocks at low tide. Peering into the tidepools, watching several species of crabs, identifying some mollusk denizens of the pools and getting a chance to see seastars and sea anemones tucked in the crooks and crannies of this storm-worn piece of shore rock. So cool.

Glenda and Grant searching for sea creatures

A heron looks for lunch at low tide

Leaving the tidepool area, we strolled up the path to the headlands atop the sea cliffs bordering Deception Pass, separating us from Whidbey Island.

The sky was gray, the water pewter, the air was cool. No matter the weather, I always find the Rosario Headlands to be scenic.

Kaileen and Grant on the edge of the cliff

Mark and Sue overlooking Deception Island

Greg does some checking on our geographic location

Silhouette of the Gaul Family 

Sue and Goats Beard shrub

A Journey to 'The Islands' in Washington's Banana Belt

 For a change of pace. For a chance to give our tender feet a rest after hiking in the Cascades, we opted for a relaxed day of sightseeing. We opted to book walk-on foot passage on the Washington State Ferry System and catch a ride from Fidalgo Island (which in my mind counts as 'mainland') Anacortes to Friday Harbor on San Juan Island.

Glenda, Kaileen, Grant and Sue waiting for our ship to come in at Anacortes Ferry Dock

The Yakima has docked and will ferry us to Friday harbor for a leisurely day on San Juan Island

Getting there is half the fun when you ride the ferries that sail Puget Sound. We had sunny weather, fair winds and a rising tide and then we cast off for a day of adventure.

The locals know that the San Juan Islands fall in the rain shadow of the Olympic Mountain Range, the height of the Olympics blocks some of the rain and gray weather typical of Western Washington, allowing the archipelago of the San Juans to trend warmer and sunnier that other coastal stretches of the state. Hence, the humorous phrase, 'Banana Belt' for these charming islands. 

Greg was kind enough to buy us all a waterfront lunch in Friday Harbor

Lavender crops are grown on San Juan Island  

Mark swimming with the Friday Harbor Seal

Grant and his mother at Friday Harbor Marina

Mark Posing with Petunias & Poesies
Shop along the street of Friday Harbor

We moseyed along the flowered streets of tourist-oriented Friday Harbor for the afternoon. Mostly window shopping before we caught our return ferry to Anacortes, arriving around 6 PM. I think there is so much more to do on San Juan Island than the tourist town of Friday Harbor, that I'm keen to return some day with more mobility and go sea some of the beaches, historical sites and less-visited towns on the island. I'm thinking in the future, maybe this would be a good 2-day adventure to scout San Juan Island with my wife. No regrets. We will continue to enjoy the journey and plan accordingly.

We were off the water with most of the day already gone. We detoured through the picturesque town of La Conner. We walked along Main Street, peeking into gallery windows, shops and dinning locations that were closed, or about to be. 

Those in our party from New York City marveled at the small town sense of time, where retail establishments closed 'so early' at 5 or 6, the shopkeepers then returning home. "Isn't anybody willing to work and stay open anymore?" was the lament as we passed darkened shops. 

We found a well decorated shop serving ice cream and open until 7. We dashed in to enjoy a creamy confection - just ahead of closing time.

The summer days in Washington are long on daylight, but short on business hours in La Conner.
We find an ice cream parlor still open and decide to have dessert before dinner - we are on vacation!

Of course, no trip to La Connor would be complete without a photo with the statue of Dirty Biter. Dirty Biter was a beloved, if not cantankerous canine who owned the town for awhile. We have many photos of Sunesons over the years posing with the bronze likeness of La Connor's famous Dirty Biter. 

This day is no exception... 

Kaileen joins Grant in the latest edition of a photo with the Dirty Biter Statue

Then it was back to the Pilchuck for leftover pizza and pot roast now that we had started the meal with ice cream in La Conner.

 

Waterfall Wonders

Sue and I had a couple of days together to get the house set up for the excitement of our arriving visitors; our son Grant and his wife Kaileen flew to Seattle on Sunday, June 21, where they were greeted by Kaileen's parents, Greg and Glenda, who had arrived as tourists a day earlier.

Greg had rented a car and met Grant and Kaileen at the airport in the morning, they toured Seattle's Pike Street Market, the Chihuly Glass Art Museum and did some wine tasting before driving the 50 miles north where we had a pot roast supper waiting for them.

I had laid out some options for places of interest in the Pacific Northwest; they had prioritized nature and pleasant hikes with an emphasis on scenic waterfalls and woods. I looked them in the eye and told them, "I will make that happen. Follow me!"

In the morning I took them up the road about 25 miles to the Boulder River Wilderness Trailhead. Plenty of woods to begin with and a promised beauty of a waterfall after an easy 1.2 mile trail.

Boulder River Wilderness Trailhead
Greg, Glenda, Sue, Kaileen & Grant

We examined the geology of the bedrock, the plants and gnarly tree roots and exchanged convivial chatter and before we knew it, standing before us was the unnamed forked waterfall was rushing over the precipice on the other side of Boulder River.

Embraced within the folds of a massive cedar tree on the Boulder River Trail

Sue and Mark share roots

Rounding the trail that followed the contour of the steep slope, the waterfall (which I feel should be named 'Dragon Tongue Falls') came into view. We all scrambled off the trail and down the rough slope to walk and hop among the boulders of Boulder Creek at the base of the falls.

Kaileen & Grant at trail's end for Dragon Tongue Falls

 

***

We hiked back to our cars at the trailhead where we discuss our plans. It was decided to grab some lunch at the Burger Barn in the small town of Darrington a few miles further up the road.

After lunch, "Anyone interested in another waterfall?" 

I explained it was a rather short hike to see North Fork Sauk River Waterfall, a full-blast, roaring waterfall, in contrast to the flittering, tranquil essence of our morning's first waterfall experience. In answer to my question, it was a resounding, "Yes!"

We traveled in tandem over about 16 miles of unpaved seasonal road know as The Mountain Loop Highway. 

The springtide flood and volume made for a spectacular sight.

 

The roaring North Fork Sauk River Falls

Sue silhouetted against the backdrop of an impressive waterfall 

Grant and Greg managed to scramble over the rocky, semi-blazed trail to stand on the bedrock at the base of the falls. Kaileen, being the social media poster extraordinaire, got some great shots of the place to post to her friends and adventure followers.

***

It was mid-afternoon, and I had a suggestion. Since we've come this far, how about we finish this Mountain Loop of a so-called highway, and go see a series of waterfalls cascading into an avalanche shoot piled high with the winter's snow where the water carves out an ice cave at the base of Big 4 Mountain?

Wheeling over the pothole pocked dirt road that is the Mountain Loop Highway, we crossed over Barlow Pass, leaving the Sauk River watershed and descended into the Stillaguamish River watershed and some spectacular views of some of the peaks of the Cascade Range. We parked at the Big 4 Mountain lot where once stood a grand hotel, until it burned to the ground in 1938.

Walking along the path to the trailhead, a busy beaver was spotted hauling a 3-inch diameter piece of wood and paddling through the one of its beaver mash waterways.

Beaver viewing from a boardwalk above the marsh at Big 4 Mountain

It was enjoyable hike through marsh, across an aluminum bridge and into the woods where several redheaded woodpeckers were spotted. We were warned by signs not to enter the ice caves as there were at least four different ways in which one could die; killed by falling rocks, killed by collapsing ice, killed by falling through an ice crevasse, or killed by an avalanche.

At the end of the trail, we viewed the ice caves beginning to form at this early stage of the seasonal melt, from a safe distance. I was tempted to challenge fate and get closer, as I think was Grant, but in deference to our wives, we held back our adventurous exploration.

A stern warning from the US Forest Service

Sue with avalanche chute and waterfall at Big 4 Mtn

   

With a good day's worth of waterfalls collected in our minds, we passed through Granite Falls and headed back home. We called in an order for some Greek-style pizza for pickup on our way home. 

We estimated (using their cell phone tracking) that we hiked between 7 and 8.5* miles in our treks to see Pacific Northwest waterfalls.

*Different devices had different estimates.

We kicked off our boots, devoured our pizza dinosaur-time style and opened a few brews in the long-lasting evening light of this latitude.

"What do ya got for us tomorrow, Mark?" Someone asked.

"We've done mountains today, let's do sea and saltwater and The Islands tomorrow. We'll take it easy, relax on a ferry boat ride to San Juan Island and Friday Harbor."

Sounds good. See ya in the morning. Goodnight.