When our sons were growing up, they enjoyed reading the Arthurian Legends, imagining adventures in the deep woods. They rode their bikes down to a ravine near Old Town, lugging ropes and hand-made walking sticks. Sometimes they would remember to bring lunch, and on those fortuitous days, they'd spend all day living out their fantasies blazing trails through the forest.
Our son Taraz (Taraz'ullah Arthur) joined us on another camping trip this last weekend. (Yes, we thought camping was over for the season. But sunshine - and survivable temps of 34 degrees at night - were in our favor.) We picked him up at his home in Olympia, and drove over to the Dosewallips State Park, where we set up camp.
The Dosewallips River opens up into a fantastically rich delta, a habitat that supports abundant marine life. We hunkered down in the canoe and explored the delta for several hours. 
Our 'put-in point' was a little stream that empties into the Dosewallips, a meandering, enchanting little water course that offers protection to salmon when the weather and tides are rough. It was quite shallow, circuitous, and had luxurious trees covered with lichen and moss.
About midway a huge log blocked our route, and we had to portage the canoe across it. Fortunately, the shoreline along here offered a stable foothold, where disembarking was possible. We climbed onto the old log, and Sir Arthur and George pulled the canoe over. We were relieved that we could continue on downstream.
This photo shows the delta at high tide. This sand-spit has become an island. Later, the next day, we were able to walk to this area. Canoeing this area was delightful because we were able to watch hundreds of seals and sea lions basking on a nearby sand-spit. When they saw us approaching, they went crashing into the water, sending huge currents roiling under the surface of the water. To exit the channel, they swam right past us, startling about 60 mallards and shorebirds that flew up into the sky. It was spectacular. 
We finished our paddle late in the day, with just a few hours remaining until sunset.
I cooked hamburgers for dinner Saturday night - it was too dark to do any filming, even with the video camera. Most of the camp-tending was done in the dark. While George and Taraz chatted around the fire, I served a home-made fish chowder out of a thermos while the burgers were cooking. I've learned that it is necessary to have instantly available hot food right after a canoe paddle when the weather is brisk or cold. Otherwise, waiting for dinner to cook turns out to be an ordeal and it is consumed too quickly. Appetizers take the hard edge off hunger.
This was a portion of our lunch - roast turkey and broccoli slaw in a hogie bun, and a fresh fruit compote with lime-honey pudding I made the day before. I served a pea salad and a carrot raisen salad also.
This was a potato hash I served for breakfast - after brimming bowls of oatmeal. We'd roasted the potatoes and brats in the fire the night before, so I only had to chop the onion and green pepper. I fried up four eggs to go with this hash, so by the time breakfast was finished we were fueled up for some major hiking on Sunday.
The Dosewallips State Park offers numerous hiking trails of various lengths, all of them through majestic deep woods. As George and I led the way, our Sir Arthur looked for old deadwood ready to topple over. (I shan't say what our young adventurer did to those trees, but I'll say that they are no longer conspicuous eyesores aslant in the sunlight.) 
He found this old tree, with the roots exposed. We took several long hikes, one on Saturday and the other on Sunday. 
As we approached the trail-head, Taraz noticed this unusual tree. While George and I focused mainly on hiking the trail, Taraz was interactive, sliding downhill on slippery leaves, jumping over dead-fall. He was consumed with spontaneity, a levity of spirit that comes from exploring the forest.
The only Arthurian legend associated with the Dannells, is that we ended our exploring of water and forests by racing to beat the clock - that is, Sir Arthur's time-clock. He was due to be back to work around 4:00 on Sunday, so we ate left-overs in the car, fueling up with tomato soup in a thermos, sandwiches, and an espresso in Hoodsport. We stashed fruit-leather wrappers, espresso cups and sandwich bags under the seat of the car.
In his rush to get Taraz back to work, George had to settle for less than perfect packing. The down comforters and blankets were hastily placed in bags, without the air compressed out, and there was just a general hodge-podge of dirt-riddled containers and dirty laundry. Taraz traveled wedged among pots and pans, and griddles still dark with campfire soot.
Careening to a sudden stop in front of the 'One Heart Cafe', Sir Arthur opened the van's side-door. Our young hero, who had vanquished spirits of the forest, pried himself loose. An old hiking boot dropped out, followed by the lid of the crock pot. It rattled and hummed as it settled onto the pavement, as if offering applause. Reaching inside, Taraz pulled out his new walking stick, thanks to an industrious beaver. It was a huge water-logged thing, with tidal scum and fungal routes laced thither and yon. He raised it triumphantly, and headed into the 'One Heart Cafe'.
For the past several days we've had a storm front move in, with strong winds and rain. I've been a little housebound, waiting for a dry-spell, so I can go for my walks. I've managed a couple almost every day, coming into the house a bit wind-blown and wet.
Weather changes are always so dramatic and can bring sudden dangers. I read in the paper today about a wind-surfer who lost his luck out in the storm - they found his body floating on top of the water. Another lady was stranded in her car because a power pole had crashed nearby. Tree limbs and shrubs were torn and battered. I've been busy this afternoon, cooking for the Baha'i Holy Day, "Birth of the Bab". Our community is holding a potluck, and I experimented with a Quinoa Vegetable Pilaf and some apple pies - miniatures. I used some of the wild orchard apples we collected last weekend, and added ground flax seed to the crust to make it more wholesome. 
I took out my cookie cutter and cut circles of crust, and left-overs were used for a few cookies, which were dressed in a chocolate fudge frosting. (I 'm mesmerized with whirligigs twirling in peoples yards, with apples, chocolate, and the patterns to an acorn squash.) These pies remind me of the decorative lattice-work on the centerpiece on the dome of the Baha'i House of Worship in Wilmette, Illinois.
Once my pies were done, I got busy on the Quinoa Vegetable Pilaf. I adapted a recipe from "Gourmet Grains - Main Dishes Made of Nature", a book my daughter Laurel gave me about 10 years ago. The quinoa grain is an ancient grain originating in the Andes in Peru. It is very nutty and contains as much as 20 percent protein. It only takes 10 minutes to boil, preferably in broth.
While the quinoa was simmering, I stir-fried celery, onion, garlic, and carrots in butter and Worcester Sauce, adding a little salt and plum syrup. That done, I added more assorted veggies (cauliflower, cabbage, broccoli shreds), and beefed up the mix with some canned tomatoes and black beans. Parsley flakes and cumin add a nice aroma. A nice rich sauce develops, and I drained it, then boiled it down so that it becomes quite flavorful. Then I pour it into the quinoa to add flavor to the grain. 
Put in a glass serving dish, the long rectangle of colors and textures remind me of the patterns on a fine Persian carpet!
And, so, I've celebrated this Holy Day with color, texture, pattern - and flavors. Every day lately we've had a special occasion - the pattern of Baha'i life - a Devotional at the Olsen's, a Feast, a Fireside at the Nolan's in Gig Harbor, a Ruhi Class here with new friends. On Saturday we plan to attend the devotions at the Black Men's Gathering out at Brighton Creek, then attend a wedding in the afternoon.
I have a few photos that capture some of this last week's highlights:
Our friend Wynne, who has offered so much service to the Baha'i community is leaving in a few days, moving back to Hawaii, where she grew up. I will especially miss her. She was a dear friend as well as our Ruhi tutor for several years.
This is Carla Jo and Mauricio playing at the Nolan's fireside.
BJ is keeping an eye on her little friend Adeeb at Feast.
Bahereh is expecting a second child in December.
And, lastly....this was the zucchini-carrot cake and the gingerbread that I took to the Nolan's Fireside last Saturday. A smidgen remained, and we enjoyed it over the campfire last weekend, right before bedtime.
As I indicated in my last post, we were planning to paddle up the Duckabush River on Saturday, to check out an old abandoned apple orchard. And, as you can see, we brought back the most beautiful red apples, perfect for applesauce!
George wasn't quite certain if the orchard was up the Duckabush or down it, outward into the Hood Canal and around the mudflats. But, I remembered the location, and we headed out, traversing very shallow water. Several times we had to get out of the canoe and walk in shallow water as the canoe was scraping bottom.
The low tide made it difficult to determine an entrance to the particular channel we needed, and so we just gave it a guess...and guessed wrong. We bogged down with no creek in site. I climbed up onto the dry grass bank and explored, looking for the channel while George stayed with the canoe and ate lunch. When I came back with good news - I'd found it - and I found him covered with mud! He'd tried pulling the canoe up onto dry land and got mired in the mud. His water-boots got stuck, and he toppled over! But, once we got the canoe up onto the grassy bank, he pulled it across the wetlands over to the right channel. We paddled up as far as low tide would allow, explored, and found our little tree. It took only a few minutes to pick our bushel.
One of the concerns we always have paddling in low water is the possibility of dogs running out at us, protecting their territory. We always try to paddle in deeper water to avoid a confrontation. Low tide and portaging always involve the possibility of this hazard. Wouldn't you know, we happened upon our first dog when loading up our canoe. 
He came around a corner in the brush, and waddled over to me. His owner said he was friendly, and we had a nice chat while George loaded up the canoe. This dog can only waddle, as his legs were crippled at birth, due to breeding practices that cause the dog to squat for shows. The genetics got mutated, and his legs turned out like a rabbit's.
When we were driving home along the Hood Canal, we drove through the Twanoh State Park and I mentioned how I'd love to camp there sometime. George said, "How about setting up camp Sunday afternoon after devotions? I could just drive to work the next morning (a half hour commute), and you could spend the day. I'll pick you up when I get off work." I was thrilled!Twanoh State Park has the sweetest little campground, with a resident host and a park ranger. Since it is off-season, there were just several other campers. It was like having the entire place to ourselves. 
We set up the canopy over the picnic table, pitched our tent, and prepared a big fire. On Sunday we had warm temps and sunshine, but on Monday there was a forecast for light, intermittent rain. (This photo shows my fire on Monday morning - green wood makes a lot of smoke.)I had only a few hours to plan this trip. I pulled out a salad, some homemade breads (zucchini-carrot, whole wheat, and molasses), and left-over home-made minestrone soup.
George picked up some sweet-potatoes, bratwurst, and sirloin kebabs for barbecuing. 
I brushed on a honey-teriyaki marinade on the kebabs early in the morning, and added a little garlic. These take only about 20 minutes on the grill. I put a plum syrup glaze over the sweet-potatoes, and they took a little longer. Next time, I'll just roast them in the fire, along with the russet potatoes. We roasted the brats with skewers over the fire.
George left for work at 7:00 a.m. on Monday morning, and I made coffee, built a fire, and prepared breakfast. It was not easy to get the fire going because the wood we bought was still green, it was lightly raining, and I had no kindling left from the night before. So, I shaved the bark off some of the logs and fanned the small fire with a piece of cardboard. Suddenly the wood caught fire. I was careful to nurse it along as George did the night before.
This is a vegetable stir-fry, with left-over bratwurst, the grilled sweet-potatoes, a couple of fried eggs and a little banana and pear.
I made some peanut-butter toast for a mid-morning snack, slathered the works with a little plum syrup, then took an hour hike through the forest along a well-maintained trail. It is a simple loop, with several switchbacks, an upward climb with benches along the way. Rain fell lightly, and it was an incredibly peaceful forest experience...I learned later from the ranger that a bear was sighted earlier this summer near the trail, so I'm glad I sang out-loud the entire way! ("If You're Happy and You Know It....clap your hands, stomp your feet...")
This is the beach at Twanoh State Park. Other than one man smelt-dipping, it was deserted - just like the campground and the trails. I had the place to myself. I noticed about 20 different mushroom species, took some notes, and beach-combed, thoroughly enjoying my little pursuits.
The Civilian Conservation Corp built the park and its shelters in 1936.
This poor little shark was breakfast for the crows.
George drove into camp about 3:30, arriving about two hours earlier than I'd expected, and while he broke camp, I checked off my 'things to explore list', with one last visit to the ranger station to collect information about the Hood Canal, Twanoh State Park, and other recreational opportunities in the area. This is a prime shellfish collecting area. In the summer there are opportunities to see whales, porpoise, seals and sea lions. Before collecting anything, such as shellfish, it is important to check regulations and advisories, to determine if they are safe for consumption.
We got home at 6:15, I took a shower, and we picked up Rahmat for Feast. Today, I'm facing mounds of comforters that have to go into the dryer to ward off any mildew. The tent and canopy have to air dry out in the middle of the living room since it is raining, and I've got to wash and clean every container before they are stored in the garage for winter. Alas, my camping season has now officially ended, but this last trip was one of my favorites, especially memorable for the solitude and the gentle rain.
I'm sure everyone is saying, "Not more pancakes with fresh fruit!" It seems I cannot get enough - I'm even videotaping closeup shots of succulent strawberries dripping in plum syrup, purple grapes sliced in half with several tiny seeds hidden in the middle, and bananas carefully sliced into little halves. The kiwi was sullen and lacked color, but I added her anyway, little tart. And, this was a debut for my beloved huckleberries, which have been labeled "Hands Off" in my freezer. They are such a delicacy that they will be strictly ornamental.
With the colder weather and rain, one cannot help but search the pantry and refrigerator for little taste thrills, for a possible project that will fill the hours and the tummy. I've baked whole wheat bread, three loaves at a time, and served it with a cabbage-meatball casserole. 
This is somewhat like stuffed cabbage rolls, except that one can see the ingredients individually (photo shows this casserole just before I popped it into the oven). I put a little wheat germ and rice in the meatballs, and I've dolloped homemade tomato sauce over the works. For a crunchy topping, I add a sprinkling of broccoli slaw and shredded cheddar-Swiss cheese.
I told George that we need to grow collards again, as we have for years, as they are so nutritious, and quite flavorful when cooked with bratwurst, onion, and carrots in chicken broth. 
This simmered on the stove for an hour and a half, and I brought out whole wheat bread, buttered, as a side dish. When I roast a turkey, I save some of it, to throw into the pot with the collards. It is an especially aromatic soup.
On my walks throughout the neighborhood, I've noticed woodsmoke in the early morning. The horse-chestnuts have dropped their seed-pods. Squirrels are hoarding seeds and nuts, burying them in people's flowerbeds. So many maples have turned, and it is now quite chilly at night. I love this time of year, for the changes, the anticipation of warmth and nourishment, and I savor the memories of my summer, especially grateful for the six camping trips we had, most of them with our children.
There is an apple tree up the Duckabush River over by the Hood Canal. We happened upon it last fall, this time, and it was filled with little perfect red apples, so sweet and crisp, just waiting to be picked. If we don't go there to collect the apples, they will lay wasted on the ground, unnoticed. Nearby are quince, in a little forest. I told George I'd like to visit this old abandoned orchard on the weekend - we have to canoe upriver to get there. I want to see if the apples and quince are still there. I have plans for them, if they are!
For George, pot-roast with boiled carrots, onion and potatoes really hit the spot after a day hiking near Seabeck on the Hood Canal.
We left about 10:00 on Saturday morning, headed north to Port Orchard, and found the the Gold Creek Trailhead between Belfair and Seabeck. This is a popular hiking spot that also attracts mountain bikers and people who want to explore back-country on horseback. We hiked as a light rain began to fall and I was tempted to worry a bit, because we weren't wearing rain-gear. But, other hikers came down the hillside, saying that the trail veers into deep woods where the trees provide a bit of shelter.
As we climbed, we noticed that berry-pickers were filling large buckets with wild huckleberries. I rumaged through my backpack, and found a few zip-lock bags. I could just see these berries glazed in plum sauce over some sliced and grilled yams! While I picked, George pulled them off the bushes and ate them.
To acquire any volume of berries, one must 'milk the berries', by pulling the hands down the branch in one long motion. 
Just about everything falls into the bucket - leaves, immature berries, spiders, worms and bugs. But, it is fast work...until you get home and have to sort out the huckleberries. I swirl them around in a big bowl of water, and all the bugs and leaves float to the top.We collected berries as we walked along the trail, ending up at Gold Creek, where George saw an American dipper in a little brook that had dammed up . The American dipper catches all of its food in swiftly flowing streams by swimming and walking on the stream bottom. It is North America's only truly aquatic songbird.We finished Gold Creek about 1:30, then headed over to the Guillemot Cove Nature Reserve near Seabeck. There we hiked the Margaret Trail, the River Trail Loop, and the Beach House Trail. These trails wind along mountain sides, through deep evergreen forests, groves of alder and big-leaf maple, and through an orchard. It was really dark in some areas of the forest, and since it was raining, I took very few photos.
We took the Beach House Trail down to Guillemot Cove. On a sunny day this beach has a magnificent view of the Olympic Mountains in the distance. It was named after the black and white Guillemot that inhabited this area around 1800.
This old cabin sits abandoned on the nature reserve, with the doors wide open. I peeked inside and walked around, careful where I stepped as I wasn't sure how sound the old floors were. Nothing remained except a few beds. The wood-burning stove was removed, and all the porcelain fixtures in the kitchen and bathroom were cracked. Tree branches poked through a hole in the roof, and pine needles and leaves were scattered everywhere.
We met a Japanese couple on one of the trails who were filling big buckets with Chanterelle Mushrooms .The mushrooms were huge, and are considered one of the finest available, the 'Queen of the Forest'. All during our hike I peered under the trees hoping to find some, but all I found were golden autumn leaves that had fallen to the ground.
We finished our hiking about 3:30, then stopped for coffee and a meal at Barb's Cafe in the back of the General Store. The cafe sits right over the water, and offers a quaint view. 
Their specialty was home-baked pies, breads and rolls. George had the pot-roast, and I ordered a cup of crab chowder and half a turkey sandwich on sourdough bread. No words can describe how wonderful that meal was!
Our daughter Ruhiyyih planned to fly from her home in the Washington D.C. area to Tacoma, to attend her 10 year high school reunion. As part of her trip she requested a camping trip with as much of the family as could get away at the end of the week.
We spent several days at one of our favorite hiking/canoeing/ camping locations - Quincy Lake in eastern Washington. Western Washington was due to have rain, thunder showers, and some cold temperatures, so we headed over Snoqualmie Pass to eastern Washington.
The forecast near Quincy Lake indicated 73 degrees, partly cloudy, with bouts of sunshine. We packed five tents (always an extra one), the camp chairs, sleeping bags and blankets, and a ton of food. George said, "Don't prepare anything ahead of time. Let's just do all of the cooking 'on site'." Hmmmmm. I could just see everyone wanting a meal the moment they arrived, so I boxed up six sandwiches, butterscotch bars, and four salad varieties for an instant meal. I was right. That two and a half hour drive made everyone hungry.
Snacks over, everyone pitched in to set up camp, build a fire, and prepare the grill. We put petite sirloin kebabs and bratwurst on the grill, and nestled baking potatoes in the coals. By the time we finished the moon was rising golden-orange on the horizon and everyone settled into their tents.
We thought we'd have a peaceful night, but a storm front suddenly blasted in, about 2:00 a.m. Our tents shook violently, and it started to rain. Ruhiyyih didn't have a top cover over her tent, so George got up and set up another tent for her. Taraz couldn't sleep, so he built up the fire, and that popping fire kept me awake - I never appreciate a fire in the middle of the night. It can be too easy to fall asleep and then the fire can restart and be unpredictable. So, we put out the fire and made some readjustments to our tent, which is new. The wind continued to pound our tents, and sand was blown inside, up through the air vents. When we awoke sand covered all our bedding. Little fine grains lined our eyelids and mouths. Ruhiyyih woke up with sand between her teeth!
Fortunately, George had set up a big canopy right in front of the fire pit. 
The family - Rue, Ruhiyyih, Taraz, and George and I had our meals there. By breakfast time it had stopped raining, and we lingered over coffee while I cooked buttermilk pancakes and made some country hash.
This was the last serving of pancakes (3), mine.....which I buried with fresh fruit.
I used the remainder of the baked potatoes, bratwurst and green onion from left-over kebabs to make this hash. On a rainy morning, food always tastes so good!
Taraz, Ruhiyyih and George went for a canoe glide around Quincy Lake after breakfast, while I tidied up camp.
We spent the latter part of the morning hiking to the overlook on the Dusty Lake Trail.
This trail is heavily used in summertime, but this time of year nobody is around, as was the camping area. I am especially drawn to this type of remote desert vista.
As others walked and explored the trail, I noticed that there was plenty of vegetation that has gone to seed.
These berries and the red fall color are a lovely combination.
Our three 'kids' headed back to Tacoma after the hike, and George and I spent another day camping alone - which is considerably easier when there is just the two of us. I made hamburgers for lunch, served baked beans, and the remainder of the salads, and we set about downsizing the campsite, breaking down all the tents except ours and organizing the gear. That done, we closed up the zippers on the canopy, secured the food and beverage coolers, and drove to a nearby lake for an afternoon paddle.
We beached the canoe and spent several hours hiking nearby bluffs, winding along an old trail that leads to Ancient Lake. 
This is George enjoying the view. He is wearing his hiking shirt, which shows these ducks on a day trip.
We had a vegetable stir-fry for dinner, and turned in early when the sun set. Out on the prairie when the sun goes down, it is so dark that one gets sleepy early. By 2:00 a.m. the winds started up again, rattling and shaking the tent. But, we were prepared this second night, and slept quite well. When I rolled the down comforter back in the morning, sand coursed down along all the seams. I knew I had some laundry to do when we arrived home.
We got home in time for a family birthday celebration - food, music, some family videos, and a photo shoot. 
Annie's parents, Tim and Kathy, and her aunt Karen added to the mix, and we celebrated September and October birthdays - Rue, Laurel, and Taraz. Kathy took some photos of all of us, using everyone's camera.
This is our family, our children and their spouses, and our grand-daughter Daisy.
I was especially grateful to Ruhiyyih, who prepared a fantastic Greek salad, pita and hummus, vegetable pate, chips and salsa, and generally 'worked my list' of 'to-do's' until we arrived home. We got home an hour before the party and almost everything was done. I made a casserole from our garden beans, added a few red potatoes, warmed a pecan pie, and warmed up my dilly pockets which I'd kept in the freezer until ready to heat.
It was really a fun-filled get-away, and of course a delight to see our daughter again. She heads back to Washington D.C., but will return in November for a longer stay at Thanksgiving. I'm counting the days!
When our sons were growing up, they enjoyed reading the Arthurian Legends, imagining adventures in the deep woods. They rode their bikes down to a ravine near Old Town, lugging ropes and hand-made walking sticks. Sometimes they would remember to bring lunch, and on those fortuitous days, they'd spend all day living out their fantasies blazing trails through the forest.
Our son Taraz (Taraz'ullah Arthur) joined us on another camping trip this last weekend. (Yes, we thought camping was over for the season. But sunshine - and survivable temps of 34 degrees at night - were in our favor.) We picked him up at his home in Olympia, and drove over to the Dosewallips State Park, where we set up camp.
Our 'put-in point' was a little stream that empties into the Dosewallips, a meandering, enchanting little water course that offers protection to salmon when the weather and tides are rough. It was quite shallow, circuitous, and had luxurious trees covered with lichen and moss.
About midway a huge log blocked our route, and we had to portage the canoe across it. Fortunately, the shoreline along here offered a stable foothold, where disembarking was possible. We climbed onto the old log, and Sir Arthur and George pulled the canoe over. We were relieved that we could continue on downstream.
This photo shows the delta at high tide. This sand-spit has become an island. Later, the next day, we were able to walk to this area. Canoeing this area was delightful because we were able to watch hundreds of seals and sea lions basking on a nearby sand-spit. When they saw us approaching, they went crashing into the water, sending huge currents roiling under the surface of the water. To exit the channel, they swam right past us, startling about 60 mallards and shorebirds that flew up into the sky. It was spectacular. 
We finished our paddle late in the day, with just a few hours remaining until sunset.
This was a portion of our lunch - roast turkey and broccoli slaw in a hogie bun, and a fresh fruit compote with lime-honey pudding I made the day before. I served a pea salad and a carrot raisen salad also.
This was a potato hash I served for breakfast - after brimming bowls of oatmeal. We'd roasted the potatoes and brats in the fire the night before, so I only had to chop the onion and green pepper. I fried up four eggs to go with this hash, so by the time breakfast was finished we were fueled up for some major hiking on Sunday.
The Dosewallips State Park offers numerous hiking trails of various lengths, all of them through majestic deep woods. As George and I led the way, our Sir Arthur looked for old deadwood ready to topple over. (I shan't say what our young adventurer did to those trees, but I'll say that they are no longer conspicuous eyesores aslant in the sunlight.) 
He found this old tree, with the roots exposed. We took several long hikes, one on Saturday and the other on Sunday. 
As we approached the trail-head, Taraz noticed this unusual tree. While George and I focused mainly on hiking the trail, Taraz was interactive, sliding downhill on slippery leaves, jumping over dead-fall. He was consumed with spontaneity, a levity of spirit that comes from exploring the forest.
