When we saw this sign near the south entrance to Douglas Creek Canyon we should have turned back - unknowingly, we were on the wrong road. But we followed the public access road (BLM) to the left (not in photo), and drove up one of the most harrowing and dangerous roads I've ever experienced. The road was narrow and full of ruts and potholes. We drove to the top of the bluffs, where people could camp. We had a picnic. It was too windy up there, so we started to head back down to the main road - and discovered that our little Transit Connect didn't have adequate traction to get back up one of the hills along the way! George tried 6 or 7 times, angling the van, trying to get traction, to get speed, and each time he just didn't make it. I was so uncomfortable, I had to get out of the van, and wouldn't you know, that's when it made it over the top of the hill!
Traveling for four hours allowed me some valuable reading time.
George had to figure out a new camping location. I told him, "Just don't go to that horribly spookey lake out in the middle of nowhere." I didn't recall the name of it, but I remember we drove 'forever' one summer through desolate desert canyons. The weather was blustery and cold, with purple clouds and pelting rain. Not a soul in sight. We came to a resort that looked abandoned - or closed for the summer. Gates locked access to the wildlife refuge and public camping ahead. We were so desperate to create shelter and camp, to secure a warm meal. This place didn't look welcoming or safe. I never wanted to see the place ever again, it gave me the creeps!We drove through desert scablands along a wide road of 'washboard gravel,' with tall basalt cliffs on each side. The valley narrowed, a long lake appeared - and there was that darn resort! Lake Jameson, I will never forget the location again! However, this time fishermen were there, the general store was open, and the gate to the public camping areas were open. We'd just happened to arrive during fishing season - April through June, when the area is open! (This lake is one of the best fishing areas in Washington, stocked with over 160,00 hatchery fry trout in the spring.) There must be something providential about this return trip, because once we unloaded our gear 
in an exquisite open meadow, I felt instant well-being. The sunshine and warm temperatures, the soft tall grass, the fragrance of sage, the greeting calls of meadowlarks - it was heavenly! George set up the tent, and I pulled out all our bedding. First we laid down 4 inch foam pads and several fluffy comforters, then lightweight coverings. Down comforters are placed at the sides, to pull over during the night when the temperatures plummet. 
With so many layers, we are ready for any kind of temperature.
in an exquisite open meadow, I felt instant well-being. The sunshine and warm temperatures, the soft tall grass, the fragrance of sage, the greeting calls of meadowlarks - it was heavenly! George set up the tent, and I pulled out all our bedding. First we laid down 4 inch foam pads and several fluffy comforters, then lightweight coverings. Down comforters are placed at the sides, to pull over during the night when the temperatures plummet. 
With so many layers, we are ready for any kind of temperature. We took hike along a trail above camp. 
We hiked up to plateaus above the lake, a vast expanse with nothing but sagebrush, wild lupine, phlox, asters, and bitterroot. My walking poles are most useful on the downhill trail. 
Here, I carry them through the brush.
We hiked up to plateaus above the lake, a vast expanse with nothing but sagebrush, wild lupine, phlox, asters, and bitterroot. My walking poles are most useful on the downhill trail. 
Here, I carry them through the brush.
George read in the tent, while I experimented with new recipes. I tried Navratan Kurma, 'nine gems', a delicious Mughlei curry made from nine different fruits, vegetables, and nuts. I placed the vegetable curry inside a fermented rice/lentil dosai.
I cooked the dosi on a 'tawa, an east Indian flat griddle that is used for most Indian flat-breads. 
Here, I'm warming a cornmeal crepe on the tawa that I made earlier at home.
Here, I'm warming a cornmeal crepe on the tawa that I made earlier at home.We spent Sunday afternoon exploring the northern side of Douglas Creek Canyon - it is 'next' on our list of places to camp, and was the intended destination for our weekend. (George got the southern and northern entrances mixed up.) 
Douglas canyon was lush and green, with unusual rock substratas along the cliffs. Definitely an ancient muddy lakebed, volcanic, with fossils and agate, beautiful patterns and color. 
We spent a lot of time examining the rocks and flowers, and listening to the quiet trickle of water through a small beaver dam. Twice, we paddled along Lake Jamison, enjoying the wildlife and the swallows flying along the cliffs.
Douglas canyon was lush and green, with unusual rock substratas along the cliffs. Definitely an ancient muddy lakebed, volcanic, with fossils and agate, beautiful patterns and color. 
We spent a lot of time examining the rocks and flowers, and listening to the quiet trickle of water through a small beaver dam. Twice, we paddled along Lake Jamison, enjoying the wildlife and the swallows flying along the cliffs.
We had only one fisherman camping across the road from us - Bill, who abruptly woke me at 5:00 a.m. as he cracked two eggs into his skillet. I decided to get up and get cooking too, and had a breakfast of grilled country-style spareribs ready by 7:30 a.m! Since I didn't have cracker crumbs for frying trout, I made a skillet hash. 
I fried onions and garlic, mixed them into the deboned trout, adding chopped up cornmeal crepes. Our meal was complete, with a garnish of mango chutney, fresh-grilled corn and a home-made coleslaw
.
I fried onions and garlic, mixed them into the deboned trout, adding chopped up cornmeal crepes. Our meal was complete, with a garnish of mango chutney, fresh-grilled corn and a home-made coleslaw
.George played east Indian music as we drove through desert scablands and irrigated farms growing alfalfa and wheat. We passed along the apple orchards by Wenatchee. I studied my cookbooks, since my eyes don't focus on distance anymore. From time to time I'd look up, and contemplate the difference between the vast expanses of eastern Washington, and the dense populations in India, where one finds tranquility only by sitting still in the crowd.
