New Cat in the House

So they tell me we got a new cat. I know it's true because I've seen the scratching post, the kitty treats, the little cat abode, the cat toys, the litter box and the receipt from the spay and neuter clinic.

The cat has been in hiding since being brought home by Tuuli and Savi last Saturday when I was on my Earl Peak hike. The attached photo, taken by Tiana, looks suspiciously like our last cat, Kanga, but I'm assured it is a new, so far nameless, kitten. Kitten might be stretching it as I'm told she's almost a year old. Nonetheless, I'm convinced that we do have a new cat, so now if we can just do something with the dog, I might actually get a chance to see her.

Tiana's Driving!

Well, it's been almost a month since Tiana got her driver's permit and I'm happy to report no serious injuries have yet occurred. She's been doing great, the only exception being one time when we were practicing backing up, she got the brake and gas pedals mixed up and I had to slam on the emergency brake before we hit a neighbor's minivan.

We started our lessons at the Fisherman's Terminal complex on a quiet Sunday evening. We went over the basics and soon enough Tiana was at the wheel, navigating through the empty parking lots, the side streets and the adjoining Burlington Northern Railroad facility.

A few days later, she was on her first real street (Commodore Way) and a few days after that she negotiated her first real traffic and her first traffic light intersection. Pretty soon we were driving through Magnolia and Discovery Park. The only trouble Tiana was having was making tight turns, but she was doing fantastic in the light traffic that Magnolia had to offer. I asked her if she wanted to try driving home by herself and before I knew it we were going down Nickerson, past SPU, over the Fremont Bridge, through the heavier traffic of Fremont proper and up 8th Ave NW, all the way to the house. It was a great experience!

Next was another trip through Magnolia, then a run down to Baskin Robbins on busy Elliott Way. Again she managed the trip home just fine. Yesterday she drove cross town to Magnuson Park, up Sand Point Way a few miles, back down Sand Point Way past the village, through Montlake to Leschi and then up Madison, across Capital Hill/Broadway, over the University Bridge, through Fremont and back home, all without the slightest problem.

Soon we'll work on changing lanes, merging, backing up and parking. When she's comfortable with those skills, we're off to the freeway. So far I'm really proud of her and pleased how responsible and careful she has been. She's able to keep up with traffic, yet senses when it's appropriate to slow down. She doesn't follow too closely but knows enough not to allow too much space for other cars to cut in front of her. She just has a good feel for the road.

Photos to come!

Earl Peak, Aug 16, 2008

It started off hot, at the trailhead, through the tall trees standing shady beside Standup Creek in the Teanaway valley. It stayed hot, through the 3500' of elevation gain, as the trail switchbacked through thinning pines and rocky outcrops. It ended hot in the town of Cle Elum where we stopped for some burgers and were greeted with 95-degree temperatures, even at 6pm. Did I make the point? It was hot!

After picking up friends Jodi and Adam at Shilshole Bay Marina, we stopped by the boatyard and grabbed co-worker Adam V, who will be henceforth known as Adam V. We were on the freeway by 8, at the Cle Elum house/base camp around 930 and by 1030 we were hiking.

The trail starts off easy on an old logging road, skirting the west side of Startup Creek. After a couple miles and several creek crossings, the trail starts getting a little rocky and a little dusty, but mainly it starts getting a lot vertical. Fortunately, even as we were grinding our way up the south face of the 6000+ foot ridge, there were often respites of shade. If not the 85 degree temperatures would have killed us, or at least me.

Even more important to our little group than shade was the amazing abundance of water, which seemingly was never more than a few minutes away. Apparently, as we were to find out later, this area is filthy with springs, which formed year-round creeks as well as water that would just seep from the earth. On our way back down from the summit, we were hoping to reach the source of Startup Creek, which we could see just below the top of the ridge.

A few more grueling switchbacks and we were at the saddle where the Earl Peak hiker's trail starts. Views here were fantastic, north to the Stuart Range, including Mt Stuart and Mt Sherpa and south towards Mt Rainier, which was barely visible through the smog.

It was now almost 230 and after investigating the ridge that led to the Earl Peak, we decided to skip the summit and instead concentrate on the magnificent field of springs that were just below us. We were at 6500 feet and had enough up for the day. The springs were very intriguing, mainly because they were down (though just a little), they were wet and they presumably were cool and refreshing, which indeed they were found to be.

The field around the springs were rife with tall grass, wildflowers and dozens of cracks leaking water. One spring in particular was pouring straight out of the earth like a faucet and it's water was much cooler than some of the other springs. I filled my water bottles and drank straight from the spring until I had my fill. It was like nirvana (not the rock group), sipping the cool bubbling water as the sun beat down on the shadeless meadow.

After frolicking around for a while, it was time to get serious and descend the 3500' we had just gained. Losing patience, Adam V, methodically and much like a young mule, blazed the way down, reaching the car probably 45 minutes before the rest of us. We drove into Cle Elum, stopped at the Dairy Queen where I got perhaps the Absolute Worst Burger in the World. From there it was back to the house where we decompressed for an hour and half before heading back to Seattle, where we arrived at 930.

It was a hot, full day--very enjoyable thanks to the excellent company of the two Adams and Jodi. Since Jodi didn't get a spring named after her, I propose we call the meadow in which they were located "Jodi's Field."

Cruising 2008

It was an abbreviated cruise this year aboard my brother's 42' classic wood power boat. Savanna and I took sister Sue and brother in law Greg up to Anacortes Friday afternoon August 8, where we met brother Tim and sister in law Cathy at Skyline Marina, home of the world's longest fuel dock, at the very end of which Maraian II sat.

After a quick run to the local mini mart for Savi's provisions (mostly Cheetos and candy bars) and some cash, we were off to points west. A couple hours later we were through Mosquito Pass, sort of the unofficial entrance to the San Juans proper. After deliberating amongst the crew as to where to spend the night, we ended up anchoring at Stuart Island in a well-protected bay. It was a late night and by the time we had thawed out and eaten our lasagna, it was well after 9pm. Weather was calm but a little cloudy.

We were somewhat disappointed the next morning when the infamous bakery barge failed to appear with the much-anticipated cinnamon rolls, but we consoled ourselves with a pound of bacon and some fresh scones, which Susie and Greg prepared down below in the cozy galley. After more deliberation, we were off to points south which included better cell phone coverage, Friday Harbor and the start of the Shaw Island sailboat race, where we expected to meet up with several friends and co-workers.

The start of the race was the usual jumble of fast and slow boats, experienced and novice skippers and the occasional ferry boat cruising thru the congested start line. After exiting the harbor, some boats chose to go clockwise around Shaw Island on a spinnaker run, others chose to beat into the wind, going counter clockwise. The latter course was later found to be the best choice, as few of the boats going north even finished, due to calm winds and fluky currents.

Back in cruising mode, we headed north to Orcas Island where we spent a rainy, blustery afternoon and evening at the Deer Harbor Marina. Still was enjoyable as we had time to run the skiff over to Jones Island where we hiked around for a while and were able to stretch our legs in the vicinity of the marina, mostly be dodging local traffic. The marina also had a small store which served ice cream and french fries, the ultimate balanced diet for Savanna. We also enjoyed walking the docks, looking at all the different boats. I was telling Tim it was strange for me to be seeing the boats in their natural habitats, being so used to seeing them in the yard from the bottom up.

Next day we were up and cruising fairly early as Tim had to drop Kathy off in Anacortes so she could get back to work Monday morning. That accomplished, we continued into LaConner where we stayed at the dock Sunday evening, after having a great dinner at the local pizza brew pub. It was up very early the next day and by 630am we were well on our way back to Seattle. We all took turns with the steering, including Savi, and arrived at the locks in early afternoon, for a quick transit through to his marina. Tuuli picked us up at 2pm.

Centennial Trail Aug 2 2008

While we were momentarily flummoxed that the 17.5 mile trail we had planned on riding this morning ended after just a couple blocks into a non-descript service station parking lot, we soon enough realized the error of our way and were on the trail proper, heading out of Snohomish town to points north, and perhaps somewhat west.

Truly, the trail proper starts at a signed trailhead just outside of downtown Snohomish, goes for a couple blocks and abruptly ends. Thank goodness my sister Sue had the audacity to ask a postal employee where we could again pick up the trail and after a short detour we were there. One would think that this 6-block missing link might have been better described and/or signed, but such is the life of the intrepid bike trail explorer.

Northbound out of Snohomish, the trail is the typical rail conversion following valley bottoms, easy slopes and longish straightaways. We rolled along at an easy rate for the first ten miles or so, stopping for short photo opps next to slow moving streams, scenic overpasses and finally beside a quiet lake at about the 11 mile mark of the ride. At that point, the subdivisions gave way to more grazing and farming land, the sky was lowering with the threat of sprinkles and Sue had had enough riding for the day. Brother-in-law Greg and I seized the opportunity for a high speed run to the end of the trail and made the 14 mile round trip in about an hour.

Sitting on a bench overlooking the lake, the three of us snacked and rested for a few more minutes and soon on our way back to Snohomish, arriving a couple hours later. Wandering around the quaint riverside town we soon found a nice brew pub where we had a couple well-deserved beers and a nice lunch. An hour later we were back home, with plenty of the afternoon left to relax.

Boot Buster Ridge--Best Hike Ever!

Saturday, July 26. I had been watching the penultimate stage of the Tour de France at my sister's house and didn't arrive in Cle Elum until nearly 11am. By the time I got packed up and drove the 40 minutes to the North Fork of the Teanaway, it was a little after noon. The trailhead parking lot, just west of the Beverly Creek campground, had 8 or 9 vehicles as the Koppen Mountain hike had just been featured in the Seattle PI as Karen Sykes' hike of the week. I figured most of the people I might meet on the trail would be on there way back down by now and once I got to the top, I'd have the whole ridge to myself.

The trail starts out flat enough and was cool and shady as it paralleled a small creek surrounded by tall trees. Some very early blueberries were out, indicating how warm the early summer has been. And Karen was right about the abundance of flowers on this trail--at all elevations they were absolutely astounding, both in quantity and variety. Indeed, I don't recall any hike east of the Cascades where flowering plants and shrubs were so prevalent. After a couple miles and a couple easy crossings of the creek, the trail starts up, at first in easy traverses still shaded by trees, later becoming steeper switchbacks, more open, dusty and hot. As the trail tops out views to the north and east become expansive and feature the Stuart Range and the dry, rolling hills towards Ellensburg and the Columbia River.

After all the hiking I had done in this region, I was thrilled to be on the west end of this particular ridge. The ridge itself runs 6 or 7 miles in a semi-circular configuration and my plan was to follow the ridgeline itself roughly to its eastern terminus, where I had been before, and then to take a different trail back to the car, making about a 12 or 13 mile loop. The first few miles on top were an absolute delight, as I followed a rough trail which had sidetrails to the various mini-peaks in the area, many of them in the 5500' range, all with fantastic views in every direction, including to the south where Mt Rainier would have been visible, but for the high clouds that had begun to roll in.

It was an ideal ramble with nice warm weather, plenty of wildflowers and views and no other hikers, giving me a wonderful sense of solitude and isolation and great photo opportunities. I had gone a few miles along an ever diminishing climbers' trail and started to get concerned that I hadn't run into the main trail that would lead me to the junction for the loop trail back to the car. I suddenly realized that it was very late in the day, nearly 4pm and I was getting a little concerned about the time. Here I was in the middle of nowhere and if I had to backtrack it would be nearly 11 miles back to the car. I used my best instincts to head in what I thought was the right direction, but was really starting to second-guess myself, thinking that somehow I missed the cutoff trail. I was also running short of water and food. I was getting a little paranoid--funny how your mind plays tricks on you.

I started walking faster and vowed I'd go just another half hour and if I didn't run into familiar ground I would turn back. Just as I reached that limit I sensed the trail was starting to look a little more used and then I saw signs of recent trail maintenance and finally was confident that I was on a main trail, though I wasn't positive which one it was.

Sure enough, half hour later I came to the sought after junction with the Jungle Creek trail, where I had been many times before. I was now in a very good mental state, knowing where I was and that I would be back to the car well before dark. And to top things off, just as I was finishing my last PowerBar, I heard a rustling noise behind and as I turned, expecting to see a mule deer, I caught a glimpse of a fairly good-sized bear, in full retreat mode, running into the gulley just south of me. What a thrill! Hadn't seen a bear while hiking for nearly 20 years.

The four miles back to the car were mostly steep switchback amidst long, late afternoon shadows. I got back to the car at about 645pm, having been on the move for over 6 hours with very few breaks. Highlights of the trip were how strong I felt after such a long hike and so much elevation gain (over 3500'), the solitude, the anxious thrill of being way off-trail, and of course, spotting the bear. Downsides were the inaccuracy of my GPS, blisters on my big toes, not quite enough water and the breaking down of my precious Vasque boots on top of the ridge, giving this post its title.

Mid-summer update

Well, it's not quite mid-summer, but the nights are cooler, the days are shorter and football season is just around the corner, so it must be close. Besides, so much has happened since the last post that it's just time for an update.

Since the end of May, I've been on several hikes, including one over-night trip, but the snow has been so persistent that the high-country isn't even close to opening up. Still, my excursions have all been very enjoyable and I'm looking forward to another trip this weekend.

Not too much to report around the house. I'm tearing out all the wall to wall carpeting and will be refinishing the pine floors under. The summer at times seems interminable with Tiana and Savi constantly underfoot and unwilling to undertake any activities or interests. Savi is the bigger offender--she has Ultimate Frisbee once or twice a week, but that's about it. She spends the rest of her time in the basement playing video games. She did go to CE with Tuuli last weekend, and the week before that She and Tuuli went to Finland for 9 days, so at least that's something.

Tiana has been going to summer school at Ballard High and I don't think she's missed a class yet. The new medication is helping, I think, but she has such a long ways to go from where she was that I sometimes wonder if her true, wonderful nature will ever fully develop. She and Tuuli have been getting into more and more fights lately, with a real doozy occurring last weekend. To make her feel a little better, I took her out for her first driving lesson last night (she got her permit Friday). She did pretty well and seemed to enjoy it quite a bit. Unfortunately, we haven't seen her today since she went to school, and it's now 730, so I'm a little worried she may be having a set back. Up until now, she's been pretty good, hanging out with her friends on weekends, but otherwise being quite responsible during the week, getting up early in the morning, etc.

The attached video is a little waterfall I found, off-piste, on a recent hike. It emptied into a shallow pool and was the perfect height for a shower, which I took shortly after I snapped the picture. It was very brisk, but felt very, very nice after a hot, dusty hike.

Work is going fine, although it has slowed down very much since 4th of July. I'm working a little bit on my boat, which I hope to sell before summer is over.

Stafford Creek

I've been looking forward to this first hike of the spring since the last hike of the fall (December 2007). Personal circumstances, namely my daughter's ongoing difficulties, made this getaway even sweeter.

Stafford Creek is a tributary of the North Fork of the Teanaway, about 30 minutes by car from Cle Elum. I arrived at the trailhead at about 2pm, promptly buried three beers in a nearby snowbank for later retrieval and hit the trail proper at 230.

Stafford Creek at this time of year is a raging mini-river and the recent warm spring sun made the flow as strong as I had ever seen it. I was just hoping that I wouldn't have to actually cross it. The map showed that the trail pretty much stayed on the east side of the creek, but you never know with washouts, etc. As it turned out, there was one crossing, but a large downed log made for an easy bridge.

The trail is relatively low, starting at about 3300'. While there was a little snow in the shadows, the going was easy for the first two miles with just a few switchbacks resulting in an elevation gain of just 300-400 feet. Nearing 3 miles, snow started showing on the trail, several feet thick in places, and with the warm temperatures making the snow very soft, the going was a little tough. At about 4 miles, as the trail passed high above the creek, I saw a little clearing far below and worked my way down the steep hillside to investigate.

I found a fairly flat spot, hard by the creek, with just enough room for my tent. There was a nice log to lean against, plenty of firewood if I wanted to start a fire and several cozy rocks to snuggle up to. Most important, it was very private with a nice open slope across the creek where I thought I might see some marmots.

By 6pm I had the basic tent set up and was sitting down with a glass of wine, watching the water boil by. A few minutes later, I felt the first rain drop. I hurriedly put up the rain fly and 15 minutes later the skies cracked open and the rain began in earnest. I threw all my gear in the tent and got cozy, preparing to make dinner. I fired up the stove and a few minutes later was enjoying a nice beef stroganoff.

As usual, I had an impossible time sleeping, even with the full-sized pillow I had brought along. To make things worse, my trusty radio failed to pull in any stations, so I was left to fend for myself, with the nearby roar of the creek my only solace.

It rained all night, but I did manage to stay dry and by 8am the sun was out and all was well. I cooked up a little breakfast, broke camp and hit the trail, getting back to the car in just 90 minutes. My precious beers were still there, though I had misjudged the strength of the sun, which had melted out the snow, totally exposing the cans to plain view.

I'm a Slacker

It's been out for a few months now, but momentum is rising quickly for the new Slacker portable music/radio player and the accompanying Slacker.com website. I'm right on board with that flood of interest--I think this is going to be the next big thing in the media player business.

Let's start with the basics: The idea behind the service is that instead of selling us mp3 downloads, Slacker.com offers professionally pre-programmed radio stations offering dozens of musical genres that can be listened to either on your home computer or downloaded to your Slacker portable player via any available wi-fi hotspot or through your own home network.

You never really own the music, so there are no DRM issues There are no download hassles as new music that Slacker thinks you might like is constantly being downloaded in the background, normally via wi-fi, though a USB connection is also available. The basic service is free and it's a great way to discover new artists or listen in greater depth to artists that you already like.

Slacker also let's you create your own personal radio stations. Just select artists that you want featured on "your" station and Slacker will build a radio playlist around them. Slacker then fills in the gaps by adding content it perceives as complimentary. For example, I created a station featuring the Rolling Stones. Slacker added content like the Beatles, Cream, the Kinks, the Who, etc, all of whom are artists I like. It also added some more obscure artists representing the same genre/era, many of which I enjoyed hearing for the first time.

The portable player, which is an important part of the Slacker business model, has been getting generally positive reviews, and is available in 3 models, ranging from $200-$300. The more expensive units allow you to listen to up to 40 different stations and gives you more memory for your own music. The player has a huge screen for viewing album art, biographies and the standard issue dynamically driven graphics. I'm not a huge fan of the player's design, and I understand it is rather cheaply made and that the earbuds are a disgrace. Still, most reviewers say the player is entirely functional and is a good mirror of the website. I'm thinking the second generation player will be a big improvement, but there's no word when that might be available.

While the basic service is free, there is a premium service available for $10/month. The subscription entirely eliminates little 10-second Slacker ads that occasionally pop up and also gives you the option of skipping as much music as you like. With the basic service, you are only allowed to skip 6 songs per hour. The premium service also allows you to seamlessly mix in your own music collection with Slacker's radio collection.

Downsides: Slacker is not for you if you like to have total control over your playlists. Even though the Slacker portable player allocates .5gb to 2gb of memory for your own mp3s, the main premise behind the service is that Slacker chooses the music it thinks you want to hear. There will be clunkers (which you can skip) and you can "teach" Slacker what songs/artists you like/dislike by clicking on the "heart" or "ban" buttons, but in the end it really is more like that favorite radio station you listened to as a kid, minus the DJ rap, commercials and the heavy rotation of that weeks' top 40. To me, that's a good thing.

Another thing I really like about Slacker is the artist bios. They are well-written, informative, interesting and can be viewed either on the portable player or the website.


All in all, I love the Slacker concept. At home, I have my laptop hooked up to my stereo and the music plays all day from Slacker.com. If I'm in the mood for something different, I just change stations. But it's the dedicated player that completes the service and sets it apart from other personalized media. By using wi-fi, which has become virtually ubiquitous in the home, workplace and any number of other public locations, loading fresh content is seamless and virtually hassle-free. Being able to add your own music to the player makes this, and not the latest iPod, the perfect music player.

Spring Reign 2008

Having been to the country's biggest Ultimate Frisbee tournament for the last four years, I thought I had seen every kind of weather possible. At this huge sports field complex on the banks of the Skagit River in Burlington Washington there have been frigid north winds coming down from Canada, thunderstorms that would roll through like freight trains, gale-force winds, hail, and of course, rain. But after a pleasant first day of the event, which drew teams from as far away as central Canada and San Bernadino California, on Sunday, we were about to "make history" as long-time Ultimate Coach Ben Goldfarb predicted as the day began.

I woke up at about 630 this morning at the Cocusa Motel, where Savi and I had stayed Saturday night. With yesterday's prediction of good weather, I made a pot of coffee, not even thinking to check outside. I finally peaked outside as it was getting lighter and was shocked to see the motel grounds covered in white, with the tropical blue of the swimming pool glistening in the snowy courtyard. Wet snow was coming down hard and piling up at a somewhat alarming rate, at least as far as the tournament was concerned. I walked to the nearby grocery store in a near blizzard, not believing this most unusual weather for April 20. As everyone says whenever the weather is unusually cold, "Must be global warming."

A couple hours later, the snow let up and some blue sky showed, but the damage had been done. The fields had an easy 3-4 inches of snow and it wasn't long before all the consolation games had been cancelled. Indeed, just a few of the championship bracket games were played before the tournament was cut short. Conditions, as one could imagine, were horrible. Frozen fingers, treacherous footing, indistinct boundary lines. Still, as is the spirit of Ultimate, players remained upbeat and made the best of it. Dozens of snowmen were made, huge balls of snow were rolled behind cars as a prank, and when the sun came out, sunscreen was applied with winter gloves.

It was unfortunate for the hundreds of friends and family who had driven to Burlington, only to find most of the games cancelled, but for those of us already there, it was a wacky wonderful day that we'll remember for a long time to come.

From Kona with Love

BIG ISLAND VACATION, PART TWO: Entering our fourth day here in Kona, on the sunny side of the island. Nice, though somewhat cramped, one-bedroom condo right on the water, with the surf barely 20' away from our 3rd floor lanai. View is facing south over a craggy lava beach and immediately in front of our room is a little tidal pool where two sea turtles have been hanging out.

The town proper, or at least the crazy-busy, mile-long tourist strip (Ali'i Way) starts just a couple blocks to the north, so all the restaurants and shops are well within walking distance. The city of Kona, unlike Hilo on the other side of the island, is in a development frenzy, with condos, shopping centers and new roads coming in everywhere. The older part of town, especially the settled areas along the waterfront, are quite peaceful during the day, and very busy at night. There's a very nice farmer's market and interestingly, the oldest missionary church in the islands is located along the main drag, a surprisingly massive structure dating back to the 1820s.

We've been doing a lot of snorkeling and swimming. The air temperature has been getting into the low 80s and the water temperature has been right around 78 degrees. Yesterday was a fun day as we went out on a catamaran sailboat for a dive trip to a couple primo spots accessible only by boat. The boat was rated for 26 people, but there were only 5 others onboard and with a crew of 3, it made for a great day. We did some real sailing, got close to a humpback whale and even closer to a large hammerhead shark. We went to two snorkeling sites, including one right in front of the Captain Cook Memorial, where the famous explorer was killed by the natives when they discovered that he wasn't one of their long-lost gods. The captain of the charter boat was giving me a little history lesson and informed me that even to this day, the memorial site is actually sovereign British territory.

I think the girls have been more or less enjoying themselves, though finding some place we all want to eat is a challenge. Tiana likes the buzz on the main street and last night she actually ran into somebody from Ballard High School. Both girls have been doing a ton of snorkeling, which has been a great activity. Today I think that Savi and I are going to try to find a beach where we can do some body surfing. We have to be careful not to get too much sun. Tiana hasn't had any problem--she's getting a very nice, very dark, tan.

That's it for now!

My Mom and Dad's Honeymoon Cottage?

BIG ISLAND VACATION, PART ONE: So we've settled in for a three night stay here in greater Volcano Village, a small town just outside the entrance to Volcanoes National Park. Elevation here is 4000 feet and it's been heavily misting off and on since we got here last night. Spent most of today exploring the easily accessible areas of the massive park, including visits to numerous steam vents and lava tubes, the Visitor Center and a run down to the ocean.

A highlight (for me at least) was a visit to Kilauea Military Camp, which was set up almost 60 years ago as a rest camp for military personnel. The significance is that my Dad spent his honeymoon in one of the many cabins, all of which are still standing today. (Sidenote: Mom and Dad's honeymoon was in February, I was born in November of the same year. Could I have been conceived in this very cottage?) Through a little research and some help from Dad, I think we were able to locate the exact cabin in question (see photos, which upon close inspection show that the chimney stones are identical, though the cabin exterior has changed), which was very cool. The whole complex seems caught in a timewarp, with the original PX, theatre, bowling alley, chapel and cafeteria still in good condition and still being used on a regular basis.

The big news on this side of the island is a new, and very powerful, vent that has opened nearby, that is emitting a great deal of sulphur dioxide, threatening an evacuation of the Village if the prevailing wind changes.

The temperature at this elevation has been in the 50s and 60s, the house we're in is very comfortable with 3 bedrooms and 3 TVs and wireless Internet. The property is very lush, almost jungle-like with numerous birds (including the goose-like Nene, Hawaii's state bird) and other critters roaming about. There is still quite a bit of visible snow on the top of the volcanoes, which I'm told, is unusual for this late in the season.

We'll be leaving for a 6 nite stay in a waterfront condo in Kona on Saturday. We'll go to the famous lava flows tomorrow.

Ultimate Season Starts with Double-header

The Ballard High School season got off to a fine start Saturday morning March 15th, with decisive wins over Everett High and Garfield. Marymoor park was cold and wet but there was no wind and the Field Turf made playing conditions excellent. Savanna started both games and played well, throwing several scoring points, including one that she curved well out of bounds to get around some sideline defenders, only to come back into play for a nice point. The team is led by some excellent junior and senior boys, but Savanna and her best frisbee friend and fellow freshman, Sarah, more than held their own.

Rock Climbing in Upper Yakima Canyon

It's been a while since I've done any real rock climbing, and though the little 700' scramble I did yesterday in the upper Yakima Canyon probably doesn't really qualify as real rock climbing, it's close enough for me and makes for a better headline.

Between Cle Elum and Ellensburg, along the beautiful Yakima River, runs highway 970, a lonely but well-kempt stretch of roadway where in the space of 25 miles the landscape goes from alpine forest to arid plain, with a knockout, but compact, bit of river canyon thrown in for good measure. Along this mini-canyon, which stretches in its truest form for no more than 10 miles, you'll see bald and gold eagles, hawks, turkey vultures and all sorts of land creatures from elk to marmots, who love living in the sunny, south-facing broken rocks just north of the highway.

To the south runs the Burlington Northern train tracks, the river, and over the southern ridge, just out of sight, the busy I-90 freeway. But in the canyon, all is quiet, excepting the wind which generally blows west to easy, bending the pines in distinctive arches and blasting the ridge tops free of virtually all vegetation.

Most of the land to the north is undeveloped, private ranchland, into which it's probably not recommended to venture too deep. But the land adjacent to the highway is pretty much a free-for-all, with the best rock mounds and the best views from the steep, rocky ridges, intersected with plenty of interesting ravines and gulches.

I found a likely looking spot on a lonely bit of highway, where the ridge summitted in an interesting point of large boulders, and where adjacently laid a narrow ravine where the going might be a little bit easier getting down. I visualized a path to the top and worked my way up through loose, rotten rocks, the way never getting dangerously steep, but steep enough and tricky enough to be challenging, even a little frightening. A mis-step might not have meant catastrophe, but easily could have resulted in a nasty fall. Handholds and footholds could not be trusted, and as so often is the case, after getting about three-quarters the way up, I realized there was absolutely going to have to be another route down.

Amongst the sun-flooded, wind-blasted rocks, bits of dirt showed some Spring Beauty flowers emerging, but otherwise all was still sterile on this late winter afternoon. After a little more than an hour, I made it to the top where the wind nearly blew me down. I sat on the precipice of the rock-stack for a few minutes, just to catch my breath and then headed west along the ridge to the ravine, where I founded a spring issuing forth a healthy bit of clear, cool water, which shortly thereafter was swallowed up by the dry earth.

I worked my way down the gulley, fighting through all manner of bushes and short trees, until I reached the base of the cliffs and the short walk back to the car.

Chilly Hilly 2008

Well, here it is Monday evening, the day after Chilly Hilly 2008 and my riding partner, Greg, has to burst my balloon by reminding me that two years ago we averaged a pace that was nearly 10% fast than this year's. And I thought I had done so well yesterday.

Started out at the traditional meeting place (Romio's pizza on Dravus) at 7:15 and by a little after 7:30 we were firmly in line at the ferry dock, along with well over a thousand others. We always joke that they try to segregate the classes of riders into different lanes. It's all a big joke--nobody pays much attention to the recommended speed groupings when they first arrive, and by the time the ferry is being loaded, it's an absolute free for all, with no organization. But that's part of the fun.

The weather was reasonably warm, though there was an ever so slight drizzle trying to make its presence felt. We offloaded onto Bainbridge Island on dry roads, however and within minutes, the weather wasn't a factor as we weaved our way through the myriad of bicyclists in the opening frenetic miles of the ride. Greg found the crush a bit much; I enjoyed it greatly and thought it wasn't as crazy as years past. I did think it took an unusually long time, however, for the crowds to thin out.

The first 10-15 miles went quite well, and then I hit a bit of a wall as the adrenalin wore off and we cruised past the first official rest stop. I was being passed left and right, especially on hills, and was very frustrated. When I started getting passed on the flats, I knew something was wrong. I blamed it on a slightly flat rear tire which I didn't want to take the time to pump up, for fear of being passed by even more riders. I also began worrying about the infamous Baker Hill, which was coming up in a few miles (and which proved to be anti climactic).

We finally made it to the next rest stop, and actually did stop and rest for a few minutes. I felt much better after changing my sweaty shirt and gloves and pumping up both tires to maximum pressure. Baker Hill soon followed, and by then 80% of the ride's elevation gain was over. The remaining miles had their moments, but nothing that slow and steady couldn't conquer. We just missed the early ferry, so we didn't get back to the Seattle side until around 1 pm. It was then a terrible grind home, dead into a strong north wind. As Greg said, not a pleasant way to end the ride. I was cranky the rest of the day and well into Monday--these rides are so brutal, mentally, when you don't put in the proper training....

For the record, our average speed was 13.1 mph compared to 14.38 mph in 2006.

January 30 CSR Ski-In

In one of the craziest snow days of this or any other winter, 8 proud members of the CSR crew, including yours truly (far left) had an epic ski day at Stevens Pass. With 15" of new snow in the previous 12 hours (and over 3 feet in the last several days), there was light uncompressible powder everywhere you looked. With plenty of untracked snow and no lift lines, it was an amazing day.

After battling up Highway 2 in heavy snow, overcast skies were somewhat clearing when I got to the lodge. I hooked up with my friend Randy and we immediately headed to the backside of the mountain, where pretty much I found way too much snow for my liking. Managed to fake my way down a couple runs (thanks for your patience Randy!), and then headed to the front side where the groomed runs made things a little easier.

Conditions on the hill varied from no or very light snow with good visibility, to an absolute white-out. Temps were in the mid-20s and I was talking to a regular who said it hadn't gotten above 25 for the last couple weeks, making for pristine snow. Deep snow was everywhere and indeed the Cascades have just been hammered: Snoqualmie Pass has been closed for two days and now I hear that Steven has been closed for most of today.

No aches and pains either, even though my thighs were absolutely on fire at times yesterday. It was a very fun, but somewhat expensive day and I'm looking forward to going again.

Destination: Dayton WA

My long-planned but oft delayed visit to Dayton finally came to fruition a couple days ago. I've had an ongoing fascination with this small, southeastern Washington town for years, due in large part because of it's history, which goes back to the very early 1800s. Indeed, Lewis and Clark made several camps in the area (most of which are well-documented) on their return trip to St Louis in 1806. Missionaries, miners and other settlers followed shortly thereafter.

Dayton is located 30 miles north of Walla Walla at an elevation of 1700'. It lies at the southern extremity of the rolling Palouse hills, just north of the Blue Mountains. It is prime farming country, with lots of water and, and, for the elevation, a relatively dry and temperate climate. Three streams, all of historical significance, run through or near Dayton--the Touchet, The Tucannon and Pattit Creek. The town was founded in the mid-1800s and has an expansive, and full, cemetery to prove it. It has the oldest standing train depot in the state, restored as a gift shop/museum. The history of the town is perhaps it's biggest selling point, now that the infamous Green Giant asparagus canning plant has shut down.

After the 3.5 hour drive from Cle Elum, I checked into the Blue Mountain Motel at 3pm, where the manager readily accepted my $5 request for a quiet room, a request, by the way, which he honored by not booking the room next to mine, even though the motel became nearly full later in the evening.

It was nearing dusk, but before it went completely dark, I walked down Main Street to the central part of town, where I visited the requisite small-town gift shops, art galleries and thrift store. I walked past the town bar and the town sandwich shop. The real estate offices had already closed for the day. I was entrigued by the Skye bookstore, as it was also home to the local brew pub. With Scottish music playing in the background, I enjoyed a pint of Johnson Hollow Amber Ale as I browsed for some reading material.

Down the street, an Italian restaurant was just opening for the day's business. The building had all the charm of 60's burger joint, but as they were advertising homemade lasagna, I went in and wasn't disappointed. The lasagna was perhaps the best I ever had, mildly sweet with large bits of crushingly flavorful tomatoes and onions.

I returned to the motel and had a couple more beers which I had brought from home (both of which I had to open on the bathroom's towel hook, as I had no opener) and spent the rest of the evening reading.

I awoke early the next morning and went to the only place in town that was serving breakfast. After that I drove 20 miles up the valley into the Blue Mountains, to the Bluewood ski area, which at well over 4000 feet, has the second-highest base elevation of any Washington resort. It also gets plenty of snow, averaging 300 inches per year, mostly, I don't doubt, nice powder. This morning it was snowing hard, and cold, and windy. I would not want to have been on the top of the highest chair--it no doubt would have been bone chilling.

I drove back to town on the narrow Forest Service road and spent some time visiting the cemetery and walking the quiet streets looking at the many homes that were for sale. Finding nothing of particular interest, I checked out of the motel at noon and started the long drive back to Cle Elum, taking mostly the quieter highways through the snow covered hills of the Palouse, making several stops along the way, arriving home to a terrific snowstorm at about 4pm.

Jungle Creek

Well, I had ambitions of leaving Seattle early Saturday morning, December 1, driving to our cabin in Cle Elum, suit up for a winter hike, drive up to the Teanaway valley, climb to the top of the Jungle Creek trail and get back to civilization before it got dark. It didn't quite work out that way, but was an enjoyable day nonetheless.

After a sleepless Friday night due mainly to the unfathomable exploits of our 16-year old daughter, I left Seattle at about 830 and was in Cle Elum a little after 10, where I found about ten inches of snow and a freezing cold house. After warming up the house a little and having a quick breakfast, I jumped in the car and half an hour later I was on the Jungle Creek road near the north fork of the Teanaway River. The road had not been plowed and with about a foot of very light snow I was able to get within a mile of the trailhead. Not another soul was in sight--it's slightly too early for snowmobiles and too late for most hikers. Perfect conditions for an early winter hike.

I slogged up the road, taking nearly a half hour to get to the poorly marked trailhead. Was hoping that once I got into the trees, the snow wouldn't be so deep, but that didn't prove to be the case. Very hard going for the first half mile or so with the snow deep and the trail crossing the creek several times. The temperature was probably near 20, but I was down to just a sweater as the sun was trying to come out and there wasn't a breath of wind.

After a mile and a half the trail became steeper and the snow deeper. It was farther into the woods I had been on a winter hike in a long, long time and being alone added to an eerie feeling of being totally cut off from the real world. With the flat light and snow starting to fall, it was a totally black and white world, with the only color being the pale, pale green moss hanging from the fir trees.

But the wind soon started and tons of snow was being blown off those same trails, most of it finding it's way down the back of my neck. The steepness of the trail was discouraging and I knew there would be no payoff in terms of a view if I continued to the top, so I did the sensible thing and headed back down. Good thing I did, as I became extremely tired upon reaching the road and was hard-pressed to make it back to the car before dark.

Annette Lake

Let the I-90 hiking season begin!

47 miles outside of Seattle, less than 2 minutes off I-90 is not a recipe for success if you're seeking a hiking trail with any degree of solitude, especially when the destination is a pretty little sub-alpine lake, nested cozily between high ridges.

Yet that's the dilemna of Annette Lake, which for 6-8 months is roughly the hiking equivalent of 520 at rush hour. But beginning sometime in November, after the temperatures drop, the first snow flies and ice forms in the moist shadows, one can enjoy a bit of privacy on this admittedly average trail, well under an hour from Seattle.

Wanting to work off some holiday meals and anticipating chill temperatures and possibly a little snow to scare off the masses, I left Ballard Saturday morning at 11am and was on the trail by noon. There were just 7 cars on the strip-mall sized parking lot, one of them belonging to a single woman backpacker who had just spent a very cool night at the lake, with temps in the upper teens.

The trail starts off modestly switching back through a fairly open forest of fir with a stunning lack of undergrowth. After about a mile, the way crosses the Iron Horse Trail and continues up, sometimes steeply through groves of dark fir and the occasional cedar, with the freeway's faint roar mixing with a plethora of small rivulets casdcading down from the eastern ridge. At about 2500' fresh snow appears and the trail ices up, testing the grip on your boots and making one lust after those hikers coming down with walking poles.

After a little more than 2 hours, the trail flattens out and dead-ends in a picturesque bowl under snow-capped pinnacles, with the rather circular Annette Lake resting at their base. At around 2:30pm, the temperature was around 30 and there was not a breath of wind. A small waterfall was feeding the lake on the opposite shore and you could almost see a thin film of ice spreading across the water.

Soon enough some other hikers showed up, then some more and then some more. But for twenty minutes or so, plenty of time to eat lunch, all was quiet and peaceful and very, very worthwhile.

Skiing Stevens

So back in early December of last year, I was finally talked into going skiing with several friends at work. It had a long while since I last skied, but the timing finally seemed right and everything would have worked out great except that was the the particular day that Mother Nature chose to unleash one of the mightiest windstorms in years. After a couple very shaky runs on the easiest chair lift, the resort was closed for the rest of the day. Wind speeds were reported at 100mph at the top of the mountain.

Fast forward nearly three months later to March 8, when I finally had a chance to go back to Stevens Pass and redeem the lift voucher I got for the aborted attempt in December. My friend Randy and I took off from work for the afternoon and hit the slopes at about 130pm under fair skies, 28 degrees and no wind.

It felt great to be on the slopes again and though I probably haven't skied more than 10 times in the last 20 years, I did OK, all things considered. My thighs burned like fire during the first few runs, but eventually settled down to just a semi-crippling sizzle. One of the highlights of the afternoon was recovering some stashed beers and watching the boarders go through the terrain park as we chilled out on the sidelines. Never did the once-laughable bottle opener feature on my jacket seem quite so brilliant.

I think we took every lift on the mountain, save for the single most difficult and the easiest. Randy didn't let up on me at all, and by 6pm I was wiped out and ready to head back home. I only fell once the entire afternoon, but it was a pretty bad event, being a combination face plant, knee and ankle twister, sliding down the hill, totally out of control sort of thing. That was one fall where it would have been real nice if the bindings had released.

Neverthless, I survived and it was all good.