Antílope

Since I did so well fishing, I thought I'd try my paw at hunting. I left a rainy Seattle behind for the vast, sunny expanses of Southern Wyoming. Eight hours from Salt Lake City, the spot we camped included 3 of the dozen or so trees in the whole county. We arrived in the dark amidst a thunderstorm, which cleared up as soon as we finished putting the, now drenched, tents up. Hordes of moths attacked us, attracted by the lights of the RV.

I awoke to a chilly, but sunny, expanse of ranch-land sprinkled with rock formations. A small river carved it's way through the stunted sage brush towards the Pathfinder Ranch, which was our first destination after breakfast. We piled into the pickup, licenses in hand, and wound our way through the quiet ranch compound. We finally found a building with two herding dogs barking madly outside and were able to get permission from a woman while her toddler peered curiously out the screen door. Antelope surrounded us on the drive over to another ranch, where we found another border collie, but no people - thus no signature. After lunch we decided that Joe, the 22-yrd-old from Philly should be the first to shoot, so he got the front seat. Talk about exciting! It seemed that every 5 minutes we were spotting another group of antelope. Some were close enough to take a shot at, others bounded off, not even panting as we clocked them at 50 mph. If we were worried about finding six bucks to fill our tags, we shouldn't have been. Almost every group had a buck - or three. We began searching for only those with antlers twice as big as their ears and soon enough Joe got one. His had funny little back horns, which the game warden had never seen, and ended up having the biggest rack of all the ones we got. On the way back to camp we encountered a buck a mere 183 yds from the road. Vern, who has been hunting antelope for 40 years and is usually the last to shoot, was the only one with a rifle (for coyotes) and decided he was good for one shot. Coming back to camp laden with two cleaned bucks after only a half-day of hunting seemed to be a good omen.

The next morning dawned as pleasant as the first, and soon enough Kelly was out shooting at antelope. After missing one shot, we spotted the antlers of another buck who thought he was out of sight nestled in the sagebrush. This guy had a little nub on his nose, which made him look very prehistoric. On the way back it was Sonya's turn, but she kept getting stuck with practically impossible running shots - so she let Kelly's dad shoot for awhile to rest her shoulder. Joe spotted some bucks down near an old corral - and once again we headed back to camp with two antelope. Thunderstorms threatened the evening sky, but blew through, so we hiked up to the top of the nearest "mountain" as the sun set.


The temperature dropped a bit in the night, and the next day was overcast all morning - which was good for the meat we had hanging under the three trees. Sonya had donned her lucky pants, which lived up to their name - leaving Norm the only one without an antelope as we headed back to camp. We spotted a herd with two huge bucks at a very inconvenient distance of over 500 yds with an equally obnoxious backstop of cows. Since we had spent most of the hunt searching with the truck, we decided to split up. Norm and Joe sat a the one large, lonely tree in the river valley while Jon and Kelly walked up the river and Vern and Sonya came around in the truck. Down in the riverbed it was hard to see much, but we spooked a group of cattle, which spooked a herd of antelope - right toward the tree where Norm and Joe were waiting. After an impressive 400+ yd shot, we feasted on fresh tuna steaks (from the East Coast).

Since we had our quota and needed to take care of the meat and the RV, we headed back to Salt Lake a couple days early - leaving more vacation for the next hunt! :)

Punto más alto

After a fairly lazy, but nicely relaxing labor day weekend we decided to top off the holiday by hiking up to Camp Muir - the stop-off point for climbers who plan to summit Mt. Rainier. The clouds burned off as we drove to the national park and an iffy day turned out to be absolutely gorgeous. Equipped with day packs and trekking poles we worked our way up the 4.5 miles from Paradise to Camp Muir. My cousins, the marmots, were out enjoying the sunshine and tender grass - pretty much ignoring the hikers passing painstakingly by. The whole face of the mountain seemed to be covered with groups of climbers who had probably forked over quite a bit of money to pay for the bored-looking guides. The wind picked up as we left the paved trail, but the sun and the exertion kept us warm enough. I was a bit nervous about the glacier, but once we got past the icy bottom, the snow made gaining footing a bit easier. As we neared the 10,188 ft mark the air became markedly thinner and colder. Four hours after setting out we were shivering next to the campstove as we waited for our pasta, which was reluctant to boil at such an altitude. I crawled under a rock to block the wind until we found out that there are shelters available to the public and piled in one to finish our meal. Clouds started to form around the top of the mountain, but from Muir we could see forever. Mount St. Helens and Mt. Adams towered in the distance as a thunderstorm began building in the West. Warm and full, we began walking, skiing, sliding back down. Once we reached the main trail the wind died down. Most people had left the mountain by this time, so we pretty much had the place to ourselves. Long, pink sunrays danced across the valley as the sun slowly settled behind the mountain making the verdant surroundings really look like Paradise. Maybe I'll make it to the top someday - although I don't know if they make ice axes that would fit my paws - but until then, this is the highest I have been apart from an airplane.

Valiente

Well, I missed this entry, which should have been at the beginning of August. I think perhaps I was trying to block out the memories of the scary guy in the picture below. Per a recommendation, we went to the park just up the street from Ryan's house to see a band. A polka band. That's right - polka. First off, it was free. Secondly, they are the #1 polka band in the US. They have been producing records since 1979 - some original songs, and a lot of covers, including Jeepers Creepers, I Can See For Miles, and the Hokey Pokey. I really wanted to join in on the chicken dance, but Kelly wouldn't go up there with me. She will regret that for the rest of her life. For anyone with kids who is reading this - give your kids cake, ice cream and full-sugar soda before you play a Brave Combo polka album for them. Polka apparently hits some chord in a child that makes them go absolutely crazy. The good side-effect is, after two-hours of dancing like maniacs to the generally very fast beat, you will have to carry your kids to bed. I admit to being a bit skeptical when we loaded up the blanket, but the sunny lake shore and the kids' wacky dancing to the unorthodox music ended up being a heck of a good time. I really can't say a whole lot more about them - it's kind of one of those things you have to see for yourself.

Más lagos

Ready for a last after-work hike with the Wednesday group, we joined them at the Kendall Lakes trailhead. Since we arrived a little early, we set off with Bob and Dave, expecting the others to catch up with us shortly. However, the majority of the trail was an old logging road, so we made really good time up to the lakes. Goat tracks appeared on the trail now and then, but we never spotted their owners. The first trail option was overgrown and practically impassable. Not having a machete on hand, I decided we should continue on like the vague directions indicated we could. After a few false leads, we found the path to the lower lakes, then scrambled up the hill to a third lake where we polished off our pb&j. The lower lakes still had some sunshine, so we headed back down, just as the rest of the group caught up with us. A few of the guys splashed in the shadowy lake. Had there been a little more sun I would have been tempted, myself. We all hiked back down together, arriving at the trailhead, with headlamps blazing, shortly after dark.

Un Jueves Perfecto

The following Thursday was one of the most perfect days of the summer. We had skipped the Wednesday hike because it was basically the same as Twin Lakes, so went with the Renton hikers instead. It turned out only Ryan and Terry (the hike coordinator) showed up from Renton - so we basically had a guide to run us up Guye Peak, by Alpental. We must have been meant to go on that hike because Ryan forgot his hiking boots, but was able to wear Terry's sneakers. Talk about walking in someone else's shoes! The path from the parking lot was "roots and rocks" until we finally hit the ridge. Evidence that the summer was coming to an end surrounded us - ripe huckleberries nestled enticingly amidst the heather, which had begun to turn rust-colored. Munching on fresh berries, we made our way to the peak. The peak provided a vantage point from which we could see parts of the Pacific Crest Trail, the Kendall Catwalk and a few peaks that Ryan had done while Kelly and I were at Snow Lake. The heat radiating from the sun-warmed rocks created a relaxing atmosphere, which I was reluctant to leave. We made it to the parking lot just as the sun began to set and headed to Applebees for dinner.

Lago del Maggie

I came down with a case of bumblefoot and had to stay home for a week. I'm telling you, there is so much to do here, that I just can't afford to be sick. I didn't make it to an outdoor showing of King Richard III, where an eagle made an appearance that distracted the audience and the actors. That also means I missed my chance to buy chocolate coins emblazoned with the head of the bard. I missed a trip to Serene Lake, which I hear is as beautiful as it's name. After that hike I also had to skip a Mariner's game.

I finally felt well enough to go on the Wednesday night hike to Margaret Lake, which is out toward Snow Lake. This was the first Wednesday night hike I had made it on, although Kelly had done a few in the Spring. It was hot and the guys like to go as fast as they can, so Kelly pushed a little hard and had an asthma attack. I helped her to Twin Lakes, where she recovered enough to hit Margaret peak on the way back. The mosquitoes were pretty thick at the lakes, so we didn't spend much time there. We were just on our way out when the other group came down from the peak. They had left us arrows to locate the trail, but we missed one - the one pointing up the slope at a faint boot track through the underbrush. We found the arrow on the way back, but it had been slightly demolished by passers-by, so we weren't too surprised about missing it. I'm glad we did the peak second, actually, because we were able to watch the sun start to set from the top so the world was bathed in pale, pink light as we looked out.

Nieve, Otra Vez

It was yet another beautiful late-summer day, so Kelly accepted her coworker's invitation to hike up to Snow Lake. Although we had already done this hike, you could have fooled me. When we went in May there were 3 other cars - today there were 30. Before the switchback, the trail was pretty much the same. After we turned up toward the crest, however, it was vastly different. Instead of a vague insinuation of a path in the snow we had a well-trodden dirt path to follow. We could still hear the waterfall from the top, but this time we descended in the sun rather than the mist. It took a lot longer to follow the actual trail, which meandered back and forth toward the lake - sliding down the snowy hill was much quicker. Groups of people huddled in every available clearing at the edge of the lake, munching on sandwiches and fruit instead of heating up soup. The clear water was still chilly, although nothing like Lake Viviane. One group of hikers were jumping off a rock on the far bank, squealing and splashing as they entered the cold water. The path up was a little easier, since the lack of snow meant no kick-stepping and a gradual climb instead of straight up the cliff.

Simply Seattle

We had a very "Seattle" weekend when Kelly's friend, Chris, came for a visit. Friday night there was a birthday party - a bbq on a rooftop in Capitol Hill - in the rain. Saturday we attended "family day" at the Renton Boeing plant, mostly for the free food, and saw Harry Potter in the all-too-comfortable Lincoln Square theatre. Sunday we had breakfast at Wild Wheat and went to Temple Billiards to pass time until Chris' plane left. We played cutthroat. Normally I would win paws-down, but I was nice and let them win a few games, just to make sure they didn't cry.

Ze Plane, Jefe!

Another advantage of leaving the hot, dry climate of Arizona is that living in Seattle means I am close to the EAA's biggest fly-in on the West Coast - Arlington. Kelly had been years ago, but this was my first airshow. How exciting! We met up with Ralph, his dad and Helmut the first day we were there and watched them harass the Sky Raider salesmen. The night demonstration was hot-air balloons, which is very neat to watch. There's just something magical about being awoken by the sound of propellers after camping on an airport. Although smaller than Oshkosh, the Arlington fly-in has a nice taste of everything.

Ultralight demonstrations, warbirds, aerobatics and night shows kept the days busy. I was very impressed by the light plane pilot who was brave enough to turn off his engine mid-flight and land the little Hershey-bar-wing aircraft with the propeller not moving. The hang-gliding demonstration was very inspiring because the pilot performs with two motorized aircraft in the air with him and despite the fact that he was paralyzed in a previous accident. A jazz band and a flying/fireworks show topped off the last evening. A running commentary from our half-deaf, Canadian neighbors kept the fireworks show interesting.

"Is that it?"
"What?"
"Is it over?!"
"I dunno."
"What?"
"Who knows!"
"Oh. Hey - they are making noise now."
"What?"
"They are making noise now."
"What?"
"The fireworks - they're making noise now."
"Oh."

787 Rollout

Still a bit tired from the Enchantments hike, we opted for a less action packed afternoon at Qwest field. Getting a bit carried away, Boeing insisted the 787 be officially revealed to the public on 07-08-07. The trains were running free for Boeing employees, so we followed the herd onto the cattle cars, er...the Sounder...at Kent Station. After standing in line we got water and feed (787 Aquafina bottles and popcorn) then watched a very sarcastic broadcast of the 787 roll-out ceremony. The live event took place in Everett, but only certain employees were invited. The most memorable part of the day was the...colorful...woman we sat next to, who read our paws and left (after 2+ hours of waiting) about ten minutes before they finally rolled out the aircraft.

Encantado

Instead of watching fireworks for 4th of July, we took advantage of the mid-week holiday to go on a backpacking trip to the Enchantments. This remote area near Leavenworth requires permits, and only 15 people are allowed in every day. The beginning of the trail is well-maintained by both rangers and mountain goats, but the last third requires you to navigate via cairns. After fording a couple streams and struggling nine miles in the heat Kelly finally got tired of carrying me and left me standing in a skateboard-park-like rock formation. Luckily Ryan came back for me. We decided to camp next to Lake Viviane, a severely clear pool of icy blue water with Prussik peak as a backdrop. After setting up camp on the sandy bank of the lake Kelly and Ryan decided to rinse off some of the dirt and sweat in the lake. The water sparkled temptingly, but I noticed the ice and snow that ran right to the edge and decided to stay out. Washing off was more like a rodeo than swimming - staying in the freezing water for more than 8 seconds was a feat. After a tasty dinner of tortellini with marinara sauce and deer sausage we settled into the tent to avoid the mass of mosquitoes that had discovered us.

After a good night's sleep and armed with the knowledge that the 40-lbs packs were staying at camp, we headed out to explore the surrounding lakes and peaks. Kelly finally made it around a treacherous snow-field only to encounter an angry mama goat. The kid stuck close as mama circled around Kelly, pretty much ignoring Ryan and myself. She followed us doggedly until we left her territory and stepped out into a lush alpine meadow. Streams bubbled through the grass and snow creating deep, clear pools lined with small wildflowers. The heat of the day melted the snow and made the shade of larches a welcome sight. We rested under the trees, snacking on dried fruit until the mosquitoes found us and prompted us to move on. A marmot, a large, lazy cousin of mine, munched on grass entirely unconcerned about our presence. Kelly, still a little shaky from the fall down the snow field, decided the trek up Little Annapurna was too much for her, so we turned for Prussik peak. Napping on a rock ledge in the warm, afternoon sun we were woken by a curious mountain goat with a similar agenda. Panting under his thick, shaggy coat he peered down at us, then laid down and watched us leave. Our stomachs were growling, so we headed back to camp. Sticky with sweat and sunblock and deet, Kelly and Ryan decided to try the lake again - but it was still ice-cold. After dining on orzo the mosquitoes drove us back into the tent, where we spent what was left of Ryan's birthday watching the sunset and napping. The big dipper sparkled over the jagged outline of Prussik, and the quiet of the mountain air was interrupted only by the wind and the local mountain goats circling our tent.

For our last full-day we wandered through the lakes up to Enchantment Peak, which is the 50th or 53rd or 52nd highest peak in Washington, depending on which list you look at. At around 8520 ft it was high enough to give us a amazing, sweeping view of central Washington. The wind tugged violently on the map as we tried to identify the peaks around us - with Cannon mountain being one of the most distinctive. Half a dozen mountain goats lounged in the snow below us, trying to cool off. We finished off most of our food supply for dinner, which included Jell-o pudding - a treat I rarely even get at home. Wearing our raincoats to dissuade the mosquitoes, we packed up everything but the tent and the stove and tried to go to bed early so we could hike out before the sun and temperatures rose.

On the way out we passed the few other tents of the weekend campers. The packs were a bit lighter on the way down since we had eaten most of the food, so we made pretty good time in the crisp morning air. We descended into Leavenworth around 9 am just as it began to heat up, and feelt sorry for the people with full packs starting the long trek. We ate brunch and found milkshakes before leaving the touristy Scandinavian town.