This is the ultimate peace that I imagine when longing for the wide open prairie of eastern Washington. Tranquil, with just the sounds of ducks foraging on the lake bottom, the piercing calls of the yellow headed blackbird, and a hint of wind blowing through the sagebrush.
Our son Rue packed up his camping gear, his daughter Daisy and her friend Chelsea and then picked Taraz and I up. We were 'loaded to the gills', with barbeque grilling baskets, a stack of wood, and food for a few days at Quincy Lakes. This isolated stretch of recreational land is open to fishing and camping, and has some of the most dramatic canyon hiking in the state. We hoped to pack it in, swim and hike, and have some good times around the campfire. (See Flickr account.)
We drove over late in the afternoon just after Daisy finished the last day of school (how's that for immediate gratification!). 
The girls took out their i-Pods and Nintendo DS's, and we drove to our favorite camping site. 
Taraz and I set up my tent, and Rue and the girls worked on the other tent. I pulled out my kitchen gear and Rue made a fire. 
Everyone else headed out of camp while I got burgers and smokey links ready for the fire. I got out some baked beans, cornbread and lemonade, and when the others returned, they settled down to some serious eating.
The next morning I sliced left-over meat from the night before and added it to stir-fried onions and vegetables. Then I poured in a can of tomatoes, sauce, 
and a package of gnocchi. Rue toasted English muffins over the fire, I made coffee, and we fueled-up for a day of hiking, some swimming and the possibility of some adventure!
By 10:00 we were at the Dusty Lake Trail-head which leads down to a dramatic canyon with paths in multiple directions. 
We were the only hikers for miles around, just nobody here!
Rue, our oldest son, planned the trip and kept everything organized, economical, and efficient. He did the driving, kept everyone busy with tasks, and saw to most of the details, from collecting wood, packing and re-packing the van, scheduling rest-stops and watching the price per gallon for fuel. As we drove further out into these remote areas the price of gas increased, as do all the incidentals - fuel, wood, food.
Taraz brought enthusiasm and energy to our trip, helped wherever necessary, and needed constant watching and monitoring as his motivation on any hiking experience is to dislodge boulders (sometimes with our help), sending them rattling, rolling and disintegrating into rubble down the canyon. The dust and vibrations echoed into the valley below.
Our destination was an island in the lake, where everyone could swim. There were footholds where the kids could climb and jump off, and everyone did, with the most magnificent sprays of water and gasping shouts. 
It was wonderful watching everyone!
I stayed on the beach and soaked up the sunshine.
This is Chelsea, wearing her life-vest on the trail - inconvenient, uncomfortable, but necessary. Rue insisted that anyone who planned to swim should wear one, and I backed him. Sometimes, especially after lunch, jumping into cold water can bring on a sudden shock to the system, spasms and charlie-horses, and we just didn't want to risk any mishap. Once in the water, Chelsea and Daisy could float with ease, and not have to work to stay afloat.
We hiked upward, near the canyon wall, which made the return trip quite pleasant - we were in the shade most of the time.
It was about 80 degrees mid-day, so by the time we returned to the trail-head the girls enjoyed bathing their weary feet in this little stream. 
They had just spent 6 hours hiking without complaint, and I was very proud of them.
When we got back to camp, I made coffee for everyone, and we relaxed awhile. This downtime is always so rejuvenating and enjoyable - mainly because we survived our excursion without incident, with everyone holding up well. Of course the hard part is packing up camp, loading up the van, and driving for three hours to get home. We did, and George greeted us as we arrived home (about 9:30 p.m.), and helped unload my stuff from the van. Rue loaded up his car, dropped Chelsea off at her home, and probably got home by 10:30. I know he was one tired puppy! However, all of us really appreciate his hard work and organization. He made it possible for all of us to have a fantastic time at Quincy Lakes.
The weather in the Pacific Northwest is perfect - for growing peas, calendula, and spinach. Just downright cold! Overcast, and a predicted high of 63 degrees in Tacoma on the weekend. Just no great warmth. I've got two types of peas coming up, Oregon Snow Peas on one trellis and flowering sweet peas on another one. This year I'm experimenting with a plastic mesh trellis inbetween both string trellises, to see if it will keep the two types separate.
Spinach, lettuce, kale and broccoli sprouts are doing very well. I've been thinning them out, and chopping up the sprouts for salads. I've also planted several rows of golden beets here, and some zucchini which will grow out as I pick the nearby greens.
Lettuce and nasturtium are protected by straw piled along the growing berm. I throw lawn debris and weeds into the trenches between my growing berms which provide a mulch for later in the summer. I've also added sphagnum moss . When the lettuce is picked I'll transplant nearby bachelor button seedlings and the front border will contain only flowers.
These tomatoes are 'Roma', great for sauces. They all ripen at the same time. This berm is raised and the sides are packed with straw. Grass clippings and decayed straw are tilled into the soil on a weekly basis to keep the soil light and fluffy. When hot summer days arrive (will they?) the soil will hold moisture better.
The tall poles here are for the 'Canary Vine', which has a small yellow flower that looks like a tiny bird. Cauliflower, celery, fava beans, carrots, basil and cilantro are also on this berm. I've made a point of mixing a variety of plants together, packed intensely, to confuse pests and to cut down on any open areas later on which could dry out. I've learned some of these practices through the Community Garden Program. Small plots, 20 by 30 feet, with limited watering time, 15 minutes. By August I hope to water only twice a week if I have enough organic material in my trenches to hold in the moisture.I've planted Dahlias along the eastern edge of my plot, and they are up about 8 inches. The Metropolitan Park District encourages us to plant 'tall stuff' along the edges to hide the contents of the gardens. If what we grow cannot be seen from the parkway, it is more likely not to be stolen. But, my feeling is that since the gates are not locked with a padlock anyone can come inside at any time, look around and take things.
Every day I spend about a half hour in the community garden, watering and tending. When I come and go I have a chance to visit with other gardeners. They all have interesting projects with different approaches to problems and I always learn something.
Sunshine and warm temperatures are necessary now, for all the plants to grow, and I'm desperate for a little too! I'm heading over to eastern Washington today for a few days at Quincy Lakes. My sons want to camp and hike while the weather is still mild. (Once it warms up over there we do not return to eastern Washington until the fall, when things cool down.) The guys want to hike, and I want the sunshine. 74 degrees and clear at Quincy Lakes. Tomorrow will be 77 and partly cloudy. Can't beat that!
The weather for eastern Washington indicated low 70's, partly cloudy, and no forecast for rain. We packed our camping gear, food, the canoe, and headed over Snoqualmie Pass.
The drive to the Quincy Lakes area is about three hours from Tacoma. We left a little after 7:00 a.m. on Saturday, and had plans to meet Rue, Annie, and Daisy at Quincy Lakes for a weekend of hiking, canoeing and camping.
Taraz and his friend Aaron joined us on this trip. I first met Aaron last summer. When he said he'd never gone camping, I was determined to invite him to join us, give him a wilderness experience. I described what we'd be doing, what to expect (minor privations) like sleeping on the ground, the possibility of unpredictable weather, the challenge of hiking and climbing... and no toilets or water, just what we bring. He was eager for the experience, and I knew that it would be challenging and fun for him - for all of us.
I prepared four salads on Friday for the trip: Coleslaw; a carrot-currant-apple slaw in lime juice; macaroni salad; and a green pea-soybean-onion and cheese salad with a Greek yogurt/mayo dressing. I've learned that when we arrive at camp, I always have to have food instantly available. Nobody wants to wait around for a meal to be prepared. They want to eat and go hiking! I pulled out banana bread and the four salads, made coffee and we were all set.
Within an hour three tents were set up, my cook-station was organized, and we ate lunch. Then we headed down the Dusty Lake Trail for a marvelous, invigorating hike. The warmth and sunshine (finally) were just so wonderful. 
We hiked for three hours and had only one scary moment, an abrupt encounter with a huge rattlesnake! George was the first to hear it, he suddenly shouted and jumped, and everyone behind him slowly backed off. Since I was last in line along the trail they maneuvered me through the brush off-trail, so I'd not stand any chance of seeing the snake. But, I've never seen a rattler before, and once they showed me where he was hiding out, I wanted a better look.
He was coiled, ready to strike, and was under a patch of sagebrush. I was surprised that he was so big - his circumference must have been seven or eight inches! And, either I'm hard of hearing (yes, I am), or he was far away, because I expected the rattle to be louder.
I really wanted that snake to MOVE, just wanted to watch him! I figured I'd never get another chance like this again, so everyone threw small rocks at him, and he just kept rattling. So I picked up a bigger rock and lunged it at him, hitting him right in the mid-section. He quickly uncoiled, slithered away, and when he spread out I was simply astounded at how BIG he was. All these years hiking in Montana and Washington, and this was the first time I've encountered a rattler. . . of course, I hope I never see another one.Rue and Annie joined us later in the afternoon (after Annie got off work), and immediately all of us worked to get their tent set up. 
The wind was kicking up as it often does in the afternoon, and it took some real teamwork to get the rain-guard up over the top. It kept blowing up into the air, flapping and throwing the straps in every direction. We grabbed them, staked them, and it became so obvious that if that material stayed up it would be like a sail in the wind, carrying their tent across the prairie! Rue took it off, and all of us removed our rain-guards too as they rattled something fierce.
We got a fire started, and prepared dinner. Rue and Annie put some T-bones into a grilling rack and we put seasoned buffalo-burgers into ours. I pulled out a chili, buns, and we had hamburgers. Once the sun goes down, it gets cold, and George and I turned in about 10:30. Aaron, Taraz, Rue and Annie stayed up to visit.
It was so windy that it was impossible to really sleep until the wind died down about 2:30 or 3:00 a.m. It just rattled everything, shaking the tents, bulging the fabric so it would pummel our heads - just dramatic, intense wind. I wore earplugs and snuggled down into the bedding, covering my head with the down comforter. In the middle of the night I woke up and gazed up at the stars. No overhead fabric other than screen really offers a stunning view of the Milky Way. The sky was so black, so clear, the stars so sharp and bright. Only the thin air of the desert offers this kind of clarity.
George and I awoke early, and listened to about eight different bird-sounds. It is really heavenly - coots, yellow-headed blackbirds, meadow-larks, raptors, and so many 'tweeters and warblers' most of which I cannot name. He built a fire and I made coffee, and then we headed out for a morning paddle while everyone else slept. 
The water was absolutely still and the sun just peeking up over the bluff behind our camp. 
This was our camp when we returned, with everyone up and about, ready for breakfast.
Annie made pancakes for everyone and as they ate I made my second attempt at 'Polenta with Bacon, Onion and Tomato', 'Fried Eggs and Toast'. This time it turned out - no Palmolive Dishwashing Liquid. This was a very hearty breakfast, absolutely necessary for a day of hiking. While Annie and I tidied up camp and made sandwiches for lunch George took Aaron and Daisy out for a canoe paddle. Then we piled into the van and drove to a new trail-head into the canyon.
We hiked completely around this lake. It was four hours of incredibly strenuous climbing and hiking. Although there was a trail for much of the hike, by the time we came to the huge rocks lining the lake-bed we had to crawl hand over hand, sometimes on all fours to traverse the circumference of the lake. Taraz, Rue and I hiked higher up along the canyon wall in patches of brush which offered smoother walking. But Aaron, George and the girls stayed along the lake shore. 
We had to patiently figure out how to climb one rock over the other in the shale-beds along the lake.
We learned on this hike how important it is to carry gloves, as one often doesn't realize that they provide good grips and cushion the hands on impact. Rue and I had them, but all the other pairs which I'd packed into a backpack were left behind! George also realized on this hike that he's got to buy a new pair of hiking boots, something he's put off doing. Annie's hiking poles, from Eddie Bauer, malfunctioned and broke, so she left them along the trail. They were too much trouble to carry. I also left my hiking stick behind, as it required both hands to maneuver the climbing.Fortunately, my stick was acquired along the trail.
Our son Rue cut Daisy's toenails after she mentioned that her feet hurt. We'd hiked only a short ways when she discovered that she'd packed a pair of shoes from last year rather than her newer pair. Her feet were cramped! I thought for sure that she'd not sustain this hike. 
When Rue checked her feet he felt that just clipping her toenails would help, and it did. She was a real trooper, not complaining about anything during the rigors of our trip.
But Aaron suffered I think. Those two hikes really challenged him. He came away with a lot of impressions and valued the experience. He said he really appreciated watching our family pull together to get everything done, the teamwork thing.
Taraz, Rue and Daisy went swimming in water that was snow-melt just a month ago, while the rest of us ate lunch on the beach and relaxed. 
It was fantastic to see everyone having such a good time soaking up the sunshine. When we arrived back at camp we took our time striking camp, and followed each other along the dusty roads out of the back-country. Just before we headed up Snoqualmie Pass Rue passed our heavy ole van loaded to the gills with gear. He gave a final wave goodbye, and headed home, where temperatures were in the 60's, with the forecast of more rain and wind in the days ahead.
Strawberries, Ricotta, Greek yogurt ... a simple crepe, cut in half with a splash of powdered sugar and yogurt on top.That was all I recall from last weeks' taste-thrills. I've been busy unpacking, doing laundry, cleaning the house. All the 'puttering and putting away' from a camping trip.
I've been preoccupied with tasks in the garden. Everything needs attention. I'm still sprouting a few fava beans on my windowsill, and starting zucchini in my back yard for transplanting over to Franklin Park Garden Plots. This way, I can control the sprouts and watch for crows while I work in the back yard. Crows love to pull up beans and sprouts just for the sport of it, and then your work is wasted. I cover a lot of my stuff with grass clippings to camouflage it.
Tomorrow I must build a trellis for my sweet peas and snow peas, mulch my potatoes, thin the carrots, broccoli and kale, and transplant several rows of calendula for a border. My twelve tomato plants have come through the cold weather in fine shape, mulched and protected from the wind and lower temps at night.
George and I had a canoe trip through Preacher's Slough on the Chehalis River today. 
We portaged the canoe about a fourth of a mile down the trail, then put the canoe in the water. It was cold and misty on the water, so I wasn't overly disappointed when our paddle came to an end when we were hemmed in by fallen trees over the water.
On this section of Preacher's Slough it is common practice to leave these 'sweepers' hanging over the water. It provides a sheltered habitat for the salmon which are spawned here. Environmentalists have planted trees along the river bank and along the edges of the slough to reinforce shady areas.
I'm not spending much time on the computer...just too much to do. I keep reading how important it is to avoid a sedentary lifestyle and I guess I'm fortunate - everything I enjoy doing requires movement. The downside: I'm ready for bed by 8:00!
This is the ultimate peace that I imagine when longing for the wide open prairie of eastern Washington. Tranquil, with just the sounds of ducks foraging on the lake bottom, the piercing calls of the yellow headed blackbird, and a hint of wind blowing through the sagebrush. 
The girls took out their i-Pods and Nintendo DS's, and we drove to our favorite camping site. 
Taraz and I set up my tent, and Rue and the girls worked on the other tent. I pulled out my kitchen gear and Rue made a fire. 
Everyone else headed out of camp while I got burgers and smokey links ready for the fire. I got out some baked beans, cornbread and lemonade, and when the others returned, they settled down to some serious eating. 
The next morning I sliced left-over meat from the night before and added it to stir-fried onions and vegetables. Then I poured in a can of tomatoes, sauce, 
and a package of gnocchi. Rue toasted English muffins over the fire, I made coffee, and we fueled-up for a day of hiking, some swimming and the possibility of some adventure!
We were the only hikers for miles around, just nobody here! 
Rue, our oldest son, planned the trip and kept everything organized, economical, and efficient. He did the driving, kept everyone busy with tasks, and saw to most of the details, from collecting wood, packing and re-packing the van, scheduling rest-stops and watching the price per gallon for fuel. As we drove further out into these remote areas the price of gas increased, as do all the incidentals - fuel, wood, food. 
Taraz brought enthusiasm and energy to our trip, helped wherever necessary, and needed constant watching and monitoring as his motivation on any hiking experience is to dislodge boulders (sometimes with our help), sending them rattling, rolling and disintegrating into rubble down the canyon. The dust and vibrations echoed into the valley below.
It was wonderful watching everyone! 
I stayed on the beach and soaked up the sunshine.
This is Chelsea, wearing her life-vest on the trail - inconvenient, uncomfortable, but necessary. Rue insisted that anyone who planned to swim should wear one, and I backed him. Sometimes, especially after lunch, jumping into cold water can bring on a sudden shock to the system, spasms and charlie-horses, and we just didn't want to risk any mishap. Once in the water, Chelsea and Daisy could float with ease, and not have to work to stay afloat.
We hiked upward, near the canyon wall, which made the return trip quite pleasant - we were in the shade most of the time. 
They had just spent 6 hours hiking without complaint, and I was very proud of them. 
