ROSARIO

Last night the wind howled.  It shrieked.  It tore through the rigging and the sound permeated the hull.  The fenders creaked and groaned between the boat and the dock.  The lines tugged, the boat lurched at her moorings.  We bounced and rolled all night long.  Once in a while an especially vile gust would rise above the others.  A brief hail storm made a racket as well. 

In the morning Jodi walked Rex with the wind still blowing and no sooner than she got back and zipped up the boat the heavens opened with a slushy mixture of rain and snow.  It’s now coming down in sheets, blown nearly horizontally.

The boat is warm and cozy, but it’s wild outside.  Time to catch up on some reading….

The weather partially cleared enough to take a short hike.  Cascade Lake is just above Rosario and offers a nice chance to stretch the legs.  Rex enjoyed a good and it offered a chance to snap a few pictures.  After the hike we had a nice Thai soup, a nap, then a dip in the hot tub.  One could get used to this. 

Rosario is seemingly on the uptick.  The effort to restore the property and expand the resort offering is visible.   Maybe we’ll visit in the summer, but certainly return again and again in the off season.  The ambience is tough to beat.  A stately mansion, pretty good restaurant, nice hot tub and workout facility with hiking nearby.  Perfect. 

On Again, Off Again

The original plan was to help mom unwinterize the house and head out on the boat for a mid winter cruise.



We headed up I-5 in snow showers, caught the same ferry as mom and settled in on the ferry marking our Oscar ballots in preparation for small impromptu Oscar party later that evening. We thought it might help ease the transition back to empty house – the ever present reminder that Dad wasn’t there.



Arrival at the house was uneventful and in short order the water system was charged and all systems restored after a months absence.



Jodi made a great sausage pasta dinner and we watched the Oscar's unfold. Collectively we turned out to be lousy at Oscar predictions. While mom and Jodi nailed the best picture category I eked out the win with the most right (or least wrong) guesses.



Sunday night the wind howled. Straight out of the northeast, the house was slammed by 30 knot winds with higher gusts. None of us slept very well, but the Monday morning sunrise was more peaceful.

Monday was a bittersweet day. It would have been Dads 84th birthday. We had a couple of cinnamon rolls (his favorite) in his honor.



Shortly after breakfast we decided to climb Young's Hill and give the dogs and ourselves a brief workout. Mom was game and charged up the hill without complaint. Not bad for a woman who next year will turn 80.

Predictably Kuper and Rex immensely enjoyed the outing.

All morning we had been texting back and forth with Tom and Tessa. We were going to cruise with them, but the weather forecast was dim and getting dimmer. Strong winter gales were forecasted to sweep through the area. The National Weather Service had dire “GALE WARNINGS” in big red font. Tom and Tessa informed us that they were bailing and wouldn’t be coming up. Jodi and I formulated a ‘plan B’, but then to our surprise they again revised their plans and undaunted and they caught a ferry off Bainbridge and headed north.



Jodi, mom and I had a pleasant dinner at the Cask and Schooner while Tom and Tessa uncovered a couple of unpleasant surprises as the splashed their boat in Anacortes. Their fresh water system had a cracked filter, but they surmounted their problems and steamed towards Rosario under starry skies. We'd join them in the morning, using a forecasted gap between weather systems.



We’d have to get an early start to get to Rosario and secure the boat prior to the wind arriving.



We left a little later than I had planned and the winds arrived a little earlier than anticipated. We took some spray over the bow in San Juan Channel with the wind blowing 20 to 25 knots. The windshield wipers did a good job smearing the seawater across the windshield (gotta replace the things). Once in the lee of Lopez Island things were civil until we approached Rosario. By that time we were running with the wind at about 7 knots. The wind, blowing from astern, was showing 23 knots on the anemometer. 23 knots plus 7 equals a 30 knot winds right on the stern as we headed towards the small set of docks. As we approached Rosario the seas began to build and we began to surf down the front of 4 foot waves. This was going to be interesting. We surfed into Rosario’s small moorage, most of which is tucked behind a small breakwater. The end docks were largely unprotected, bouncing wildly with the waves. Jodi had all fenders down and the lines ready. We skidded CAMBRIA into a tight 90 degree port turn to squeeze behind the docks. 30 knots of wind now on the beam pushing us towards the rocks. More power then another 90 degree turn to align with the finger pier. Tom and Tessa were there to catch the lines. I squared the boat up and then it was up to the line handlers to complete the landing. It turned out just fine, but ‘exciting’ isn’t the word you want to use when you land a 16 ton boat.



Once landed we again checked out the grounds around Rosario. Looks like major improvements are being made – lots of construction and they are redoing the swimming pool.



Jodi and I opted for a hike up to Cascade lake the joined Tom and Tessa in the hot tub. Appetizers followed on Docktails then Jodi made a terrific Pasta dish on Cambria.

The Hut

Justin is a New York city native. For most of his life, 'going outside' was merely a necessary step between two destinations. His formative years were spent in cities and since joining Eddie Bauer, his strong fondness of First Ascent has been primarily about color. "It's all about the color" is his oft repeated phrase as he mixes and matches tees with Micro Therms and, yes, shoes. His First Ascent apparel looks great, but has yet to withstand any real functional test.




Justin had never camped before, so one of our co workers, Mitch, decided to gently introduce Justin to the art of camping.



Mitch has not only summited Mount Rainier, he has also hiked the entire "Wonderland Trail" encircling it. This summer he spent a week in the back country hiking a remote trail in the northern cascades. Mitch spends his weekends as a Nordic ski patroller, assisting other cross country skiers in the back country.



To Mitch, "getting outside" is the destination. Mitch also has carefully selected First Ascent pieces, but relies more on his early Eddie Bauer gear, some of it dating back to the 70's. (And some of no doubt purchased from a small windfall he received when Van Halen had to use Mitch’s REI membership number to buy thousands of dollars of climbing gear, but that’s another story).



Mitch has been with Eddie Bauer for some 35 years. Justin joined Bauer just over a year ago. Tried and true along with the latest and greatest.





Mitch's idea of a 'gentle' introduction for a first time camping experience?



A mid February hike.

With full packs.

On the snow in the mountains using snowshoes.

At night with headlamps.

We arrived at the trailhead well after sunset Friday night. Mitch had on his Ski Patrol parka, Justin suited head to toe in First Ascent.



Putting on snowshoes for the first time is admittedly cumbersome. Justin did fine after some coaching from Mitch. (Mitch to Justin, "Uh, they’ll probably work better if the front part faces forward").

We headed out into gloomy darkness, headlamps painting wavering patterns on the snowy trail.



Our destination was a warming hut used by cross country skiers. Picture an old trappers cabin high on a snowy slope in the trees. The only fixture was a Franklin Stove – no power, no water, about the size of two corporate cubicles. It was dark and cold when we arrived, but Mitch started a fire in the old stove and before too long it was tolerable as the temperature began to rise from the low 40’s. A few candles and a couple of scotch’s later, the temperature inside was approaching 70 while it began to snow outside and drop to the low 30’s.

Even with no power or water, compared to a tent, this was a palace. All to ourselves. Until the door burst open and two snowboarders with headlamps walked in and sat down. One had a bulging parka and politely asked if we would, perhaps, want a beer. From this parka he produced a considerable supply. Scott and Adam live at the pass and live for getting outside. Scott was an ‘arborist/woodsman’ and had met Mitch earlier in the year. Both were interested in stocking the hut with firewood this summer for the next winter. A plan was hatched between the two. Scott the renegade anti authority but good natured snowboarder, Mitch the ski patroller and voice of authority. All sharing beverages in a small hut on a snowy hill in the dead of a mid winter night. Wonderful.



Scott regaled us with a story of ‘floppy the fish’ a 26” trout of some sort he was able to snag out of a backcountry lake nearby earlier in the Spring. According to Scott, Floppy had behavioral traits of a Killer Whale, repeatedly breaching in this remote lake. He had pictures of Floppy. If not over 2 feet long, it was very close.

Scott’s buddy Adam had a date and was eager to get his ski runs in before the date was to appear at the lodge later that night. Adam was in a hurry, Scott was enjoying the moment, but it was a fun visit. Then they were off, and disappeared into the foggy night to conclude their adventure.



The hut was again ours and the three of us sat together for a while, chatting, but again the door burst open. Morgan, the cross country ski instructor. Armed with a finicky headlamp, he too was winding up his nightly adventure and was taking a few solitary runs after his Friday night routine of teaching 7 year olds how to cross country ski. He had a story about the warming hut from the end of the previous year. After the ski slopes close for the season, the backcountry becomes a temporary haven for snowmobile riders. They use the warming hut for parties and Morgan had stumbled into one. Normally snowmobile riders and skiers tend to look at life differently, but Morgan doesn’t see it that way. While he had planned to have a solitary evening enjoying his single serving of soup, he certainly wasn’t disappointed walking into an energetic group with an abundance of beer and bratwurst. Eager to show the skier they really weren’t terrible people with their noisy machines, they shared freely with their excess they had brought along. Morgan had a great time that night. After some time, Morgan too disappeared into the night.



And so we heard stories of the little hut. Our palace for the evening.



Morning arrived, the fire was stoked and coffee appeared from the stove (Starbucks Via rocks!). Mitch abandoned us shortly after first light for a ski patrol meeting and Justin and I gathered our gear for the snowshoe back to the truck.

The morning was quiet and beautiful. Fog and sun battling in a tug of war with the trees silhouetted in the crossfire. No sounds save for the crunching of snow beneath snowshoes and the occasional whistling of a Raven’s wings. Nice.



Mitch orchestrated and led a great little trip. Justin enjoyed his first night in the woods, and I was glad just to be a part of it. Thanks, guys.

NEW YEARS CRUISE

“Gale warnings.”

“Several vigorous fronts will sweep across the region.”

“A significant wind event may occur.....”



Lovely. After 2 weeks of nice weather in early December, this was the forecast for our post Christmas winter cruise.



We had planned to go to Victoria then up to Genoa Bay for their New Years Eve 5 course dinner. Weather gets a vote and Victoria, with current swept approaches off the strait, was out. We got beat up there in September and there was no enthusiasm to challenge a December gale. The fronts were predicted to pass every 24 hours or so and careful attention to the forecast and the barometer, combined with short moves in relatively sheltered waters ought to provide for a fairly comfortable cruise.



Tom and Tessa brought their boat over to Friday Harbor from Anacortes and had already suffered a minor casualty during docking. A broken starboard rail was the outcome of wind, current and a couple of months of boating inactivity. We would have to be aware of that confidence syndrome. Tom and Tessa had spent 8 weeks on their boat this summer. Jodi and I circumnavigated Vancouver Island. We can handle boats and this cruise was a short one in known waters. Practically our backyard. In a December gale. Over confidence, poor weather and familiar waters. Perfect recipe for bad things to happen. Can't control the weather, but we can take a couple of prudent pills.



After getting to the island early to prepare Moms Tahoe for sale, Jodi came up and we had dinner with Tom and Tessa. We figured we’d go "all the way" to Henry Island. A 2 hour juant. We had an uneventful motor over and tied up at Henry Island. Wind was in the forecasted it was nice being at the dock, secure, with shore power. We ran over to Wescott Bay to set the crab traps and settled in for a nap, some reading, then cocktail hour. Tessa made one of her famous flat bread pizzas. Fantastic.

Thursday morning we retrieved the crab pots and while there was only one, what a crab! He was 8 inches across and none of us could remember seeing anything bigger. His imminent demise precluded naming him.

We briefly considered Victoria, but the weather was just too sketchy. It was safer to stay in protected waters and after some discussion we all came to the same conclusion. In any case Jodi and Tessa were eagerly looking forward to the hike on Stuart Island. I was ok with the hike, Tom was dreading it.



We untied and made the short crossing over to Stuart. The Swinomish yacht club (the other ‘SYC’) was having an informal cruise to Prevost harbor and Tom and Tessa knew most of that group. We opted for Reid harbor and found no one there. Perfect. Protected, secure.



After docking, we all hiked over to the Light House. I couldn’t remember the short cut, so we followed the signs, all the way down the stairs, to link to the county road. On the way, Rex took a detour. His nose told him there could be something quite dead that may be interesting. His disappearance, followed by Jodi’s screams later on, confirmed that his nose was right on the money.



The walk to the lighthouse is nice. Just over 4 miles round trip, it provides a decent off the boat alternative. We later found the short cut. About 20 feet shy of the stairs, there’s a faint trail that heads slightly up and to the right. That trail follows a ridge that terminates at the school house.



One phenomena is the ‘King Tides’ – unusually high tides. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the tides this high. Note the angle of the ramp.

Cocktail hour centered around devouring the unnamed 8 inch crab. It fed 4 of us. Not quite a meal, but close. Enough to get started. We then headed over to one of Tom and Tessa’s friends boat to watch the Husky game. Oh the magic of satellite TV at a remote dock. How civilized! We left at half time, the Husky’s in a comfortable lead (they ended up LOSING!) and went aboard an old wooden trawler that had been in their family since the 30’s. Magnificent!



Jodi cooked up some sliders towards the end of the evening and Tom and Tessa came over. Wonderful late meal.



The wind that blew throughout the night hadn’t really abated, but the forecast called for stronger winds in the afternoon. We decided to run back to Henry Island, but when Tom and Tessa got out of the bay, they got really knocked around. We heard them on the radio and watched as they got tossed about. They turned around, which was the prudent call.



We again tied up in our former places and Tessa, Jodi and I decided we’d run / walk back to the lighthouse. Tessa and Jodi probably could have run a bit more, but the combination of running and walking was fine for me. A great way to start the year (even though it hadn’t really yet started!).

After our outing, the wind started to die down and we thought we could comfortably make it back to Henry. A little lumpy, but not bad. Once tied up, we took advantage of the showers and then went over to Roche for a meal. We had the fortune of bumping into Neil Tarte. His father bought Roche Harbor (and most of the northern part of San Juan Island) back in the mid 50’s and my father bought a small waterfront lot from Neil’s father a few years later in ’61. Neil is now in his 80’s and conversations with him, always entertaining, are much more entertaining now. It’s pretty clear what is on his mind and he spontaneously vocalizes his thoughts. All of them.

Saturday morning brought calm (for once!). Time to head over to Genoa. We motored over and cleared customs without incident. We backed in at Genoa (I was a little heavy handed on the throttle) and docked with a little bit of an audience. No damage, all was well.

The dinner was very good. Chef Dave Cartner served up a great meal to end the old year and bring in the new. Gordi and Stacey run a great restaurant and between the 3 of them, the end product really works. Genoa Bay Café is in good hands.

There’s a tie between Genoa bay and Roche Harbor. When Rube Tarte bought Roche, he was looking for a business model. Genoa bay had started charging for moorage back in the 50’s to the recreational boater. It was a novel concept back then. Rube thought there may be a future in that model and, in effect, bet the ranch on it. To have a chat with Neil, then the next day go to Genoa, was special, knowing the historical connection between the two places.



Sunday morning came way too quickly and Jodi and I left Tom and Tessa and headed back to Friday Harbor. We ran into a bit of a Northeasterly as we entered Straits of De Haro and winds were a sustained 20 knots with higher gusts. Waves were 2-4 feet for a while and we got knocked around a bit. Nothing Cambria couldn’t handle, but Rex was less than impressed.

We arrived at Friday Harbor about 20 minutes before Customs closed and for once (the first time in years) we had a pleasant time checking through US Customs. It’s a rare event to have an unpleasant time getting into Canada, but it’s an equally rare event to have a pleasant time getting back to the US. We tied up in Cambria’s home slip just as the wind, once again, started to pick up. Perfect timing.



2011 had come to a close. Not the best year by any stretch. 2012 had begun with a good start. Hopefully that’s a predictor of how the year will go.

Morning Run and Painting

What a great morning.  Slept nearly 10 hours and we headed out for a 3.5 mile run (well, there was some walking as well).  42 degrees, brilliant fall day.  The slough was beautiful and Fall has completely taken hold of everything as winter approaches.  The blackberries, so ripe and plump seemingly just a few weeks ago are dried and shriveled. 

Wonderful way to start the day, then we headed into Seattle to help paint the new Seattle headquarters of 'Girls On The Run'.  Tonight is football and flatbread!

More Island Time

Back to the island. If were up to me, we would have left at 2 or 2:30. it’s a 4:30 boat, an hour and a half maybe 15 minutes more with some light traffic and its the off season. But Jodi suggested 1:45. Seemed early to me, but ok. We left at 1:47. As it turned out, had we left 2 minutes later we would have missed the boat.

A string of mechanical failures plagued the island run and as it turns out, the former pride of the fleet, the Evergreen State, was doing the heavy lifting on the Friday afternoon run.

She did this throughout the 1960’s and was the mainstay of the island run. But she's inadequate for today's traffic even in the off season. We pulled into the ferry line along with several other cars all at about the same time. Within a minute or two there were 5 cars behind us. We would be the 2nd to last car on the 4:30 boat. Whew!!

We caught up with an old buddy who has a farm on Lopez, then chatted with another acquaintance who was in Victoria the same weekend we were. Just off work, he was headed to the ' Rumor Mill' to play in a swing band. We were headed there as well to have dinner and watch game 7 of the world series.



We did meet an interesting fellow at the Rumor Mill. An old fisherman who was well into his 80's. He's made the run up the inside passage 70 to 80 times by his estimation. He told us his father was on of the first fishermen in Bristol Bay in 1916. He also told us of his fathers navigational prowess using horns in fog to bounce sound signals off land masses to determine where you are. These old salts didn't have all the navigational tools we now enjoy and by necessity had to instead hone their skills to a level that is rarely, if ever, seen these days.



The band cranked up putting an end to conversation and we settle in to a good dinner, watching the Cards win the final game of 2011 and listened to the swing band.



Saturday dawned suddenly. I was sound asleep and Jodi woke me up. She was either panicked or excited. I couldn’t tell at first. I thought something was wrong, She was breathless and yelling me to come outside. House on fire? No. She had been walking Rex out front and there was no sound save for the unmistakable blow of a whale. A minke whale was slowly making its way up the channel right on front of the cabin at dawn. A perfect way to start the day.

I took this shot of some impressive mushrooms.  They should have names....

Kuper, cute as always...

Not much to write about the rest of the day. Chores around the house and winterized the boat. Good dinner with Mom and pleasant conversation.



Sunday was drippy and gray, but we were looking forward to attending an 'event' that we had been invited to. It was a breakfast hosted by Barb and John whom we had met at the fair in August. They host an annual 'dead parents' swim and breakfast. While it sound odd, it’s a charming event attended by a small group who have experienced a loss. We did not partake in the swim (maybe next year), but the breakfast was great. Everything locally grown. The setting was magnificent, as their home is a log cabin. Not just any log cabin, it was inspired by the great national park lodges of Yellowstone, Paradise Inn, and Timberline. Breathtaking setting and exquisitely executed. Wonderful.



The company was great and it was really nice to have a great meal, honor those who are no longer here, and share memories about them.



After the event we went back to the house, packed up and headed for the ferry. No theatrics getting on the ferry – amazing how easy a Sunday departure is in the off season.

On the way down we had dinner at the Skagit River Brewing Company.  Nice way to end a good weekend.

Mount Washington (Again)

This is a great hike, but it's unsigned and the WTA web site doesn’t mention the summit. Which is great news. Given the fact this blog's readership is near zero, there's little risk of exposure or letting the cat out of the bag.




This would be our second time up, the first being about two years ago. the trail is unsigned at the base and not on the maps at the trail head.



To get there take exit 38 off I90 then turn right at the bottom of the exit and about 100 yards later take another right to the parking lot. You'll need that new ‘discover pass’ to park in the lot, or you can park on the road just outside the lot.



The trailhead is by the outhouse at the end of the parking lot. The initial trail is short, and leads to a gravel access road which in turn joins the John Wayne trail. At both junctions you'll want to bear right. Once on the John Wayne trail, look for an unmarked trail on your left. its about a tenth of a mile from the junction of the access road. This will take you on a fairly steep rocky trail which later joins an old logging road well on its way to going back to true trail status.

The WTA site covers the trail up to the Owl Look Out but there are better lunch spots further on. Unlike Mt Si, there are decent views periodically along the way.



This day was a great day for hiking, but not for picture taking. We got a late start and while the temperature was in the high 50's, perfect for hiking, it was a little gray and the light was flat.



The late start also prompted a turn around just shy of the summit. I had forgotten our head lamps and we had a turnaround time figured to get off the mountain with a suitable margin of safety before sunset.



The hike was followed by a beer and a burger at the brew pub.   The world series was on and formed a nice conclusion to the day.