Busy, Busy

for maximum coherence, read all the posts from this trip in order, starting with THIS ONE. 

On Friday, we crossed on the ferry from Swartz Bay, north of Victoria, to Tsawwassen, south of Vancouver, and drove down to our condo in Birch Bay, Washington -- enduring a long wait because of the ludicrous and specious security procedures at the border; procedures which Canada has apparently copied in retaliation, judging from the line waiting on the northbound lanes.

The condo is a nondescript little complex on the one road in the area; tiny seaside cabins across the street in front, a creek behind. Nice enough inside, and with all the necessary accoutrements: utensils, cooking gear, fireplace & television. We spent some time settling in, then headed up to the grocery store -- and, more importantly, the liquor store -- to stock up. We cooked (skillet chicken & rice) & ate in after a pitcher of margaritas had worked their mellowing magic. It was not a tragedy.

This one I actually liked

"Endangered Species"
a quicksand hot tub?

Yesterday (Saturday) we started exploring the area in earnest. First was a small sculpture garden at Big Rock Park in Bellingham, a large town about 15 miles south of here. The park features about 30 works of art placed along gravel pathways among the trees: a gorgeous setting for what I could describe as the usual assortment of mediocre post-modern sculpture with a couple of more interesting pieces accidentally included.

"Ooh! What's that smell?"

Next stop was Whatcom Falls Park, where the US Government, following a previous Republican-inspired economic meltdown, built some charming improvents around a stream with a couple of waterfalls, for the employment of that generation and the enjoyment of subsequent ones.

What that means

Still in Bellingham, we drove down to the city center and walked along pleasant streets, having lunch at the Mount Bakery, a trendy (but not too trendy) small eatery featuring quiches, crepes and baked goods. I had "crepos rancheros," an excellent crepe filled with poached eggs, onions, peppers, tomatoes and a mild salsa, with a side of black bean and poblano soup. I followed it up with a nice marionberry scone (because they were out of peanut butter pie, which I really wanted). It seemed just a little overpriced, which, in this area, is probably normal.

After lunch, we walked across the street to the Spark Museum of Electrical Invention, a place filled with odd and rare old devices from the dawn of electricity: Tesla coils and old telephones, radios, televisions, galvanometers, and all the things used to bring mankind to the understanding we now have (some of us, anyway) of electricity and its applications. Best part of the visit was the show they put on once a day, where a man dressed as a mad scientist demonstrates (without really explaining) static electricity and the operation of a Tesla coil. He does some interesting tricks, lighting fluorescent bulbs without connecting them to anything, and putting a volunteer in a giant metal cage and running two million volts at it. Fun for kids, as much fun for grown-ups.

We took a short walk around the city center before heading back to the car and up to Big Four Mountain, east of Granite Falls. There used to be a big resort hotel there, but it burned down in the 1940s, and now it's just a part of the Mount Baker-Snohomish National Forest. So of course the entire area was beautiful, and it would have been perfect in a convertible. We found the trailhead and hiked up toward the mountain.

The mountain is called Big Four because there's a place near the top where, when most of the winter snows have melted away in the spring, snow in the shape of a numeral 4 is left in a low area for a good long while. That, though, isn't the attraction that brought us to the mountain. We were there to see the ice caves that form at the bottom of the mountain. Snow falls from the upper parts of the slopes down near-vertical cliffs that range from two to four thousand feet. It forms a large pack at the bottom, and then snowmelt running down the mountain runs in at the top and out at the bottom, forming large caverns entirely of ice. Of course, with those cliffs and that snow there's a strong likelihood of avalanches, and even now, in mid-summer, the resulting caves could collapse at any time. Somebody dies in there every ten to fifteen years, but that didn't stop a lot of people from running around in the caves with their children. It stopped us from leaving the trail, which is on slightly higher ground 100 yards or so away.... Most of us, anyway; I told myself I didn't come all that way to stand that far back and look, so I climbed down onto the talus deck and approached nearer to the caves, mentally calculating how far a total collapse of the ice would move out away from the mountain wall. (Not all that far, because there's not all that much snow and ice left at this time of year.) I stood in front of the largest cave to get a picture and to feel the alternating hot and cold breezes as winds came first off the mountainside to my right, and then out of the cave in front of me.

 

Big Four Ice Cave
click here to see all the pics
from the Condo Week

What does all that mean?

And that was the first day of Condo Week. On the way back we stopped for dinner (not at Subway: Buttermilk and Church Lady wanted something "more interesting") at Conway Pub & Eatery, in Conway, Washington. It was about 9pm when we arrived and the place was a-jumpin'. It was karaoke night, and everybody was singing along. Loud? You betcha. Crowded? You betcha. Fun? You betcha. All the locals getting drunk -- why, oh why could I not find places like this when I was young and single and willing to sleep with anything that seemed likely to move? But the beer was cold and the food was good. The burgers were gigantic, the kind you cannot get your mouth around but can only nibble along the edges; the fries were perfectly twice-fried and plentiful, and the service was cheerful and efficient. Prices seemed high to my South Texas sensibilities, but not too high, so I guess they're perfectly in line with what locals would expect; about $10 for a burger & fries, if memory serves. (Sometimes it does.)  All in all, a super-fun place to eat and drink on a Saturday night, and the kind of place where, I bet, if you show up twice you're as good as a local.

Buds & Bugs

for maximum coherence, read all the posts from this trip in order, starting with THIS ONE. 

Having only two days in Victoria, we planned around the weather. Wednesday was to have a good chance of rain, so we planned to do things in the city that would keep us indoors most of the time. It worked out well, and we hardly got wet. In fact, the threatened rain turned out to be nothing more than a slight drizzle until mid-afternoon, at which point the weather gods gave up and left us with only clouds.

Thursday was the important day, when we were to be outside almost completely. There was a slight chance of rain in the morning, but in the event it was only morning clouds, followed by a spectacular midsummer afternoon of blue skies and breezes. We spent way too long at Butchart Gardens, a fabulous botanical spot in a long-dead rich old lady's back yard quarry north of Victoria. My feet still ache from the experience.

We arrived early, shortly after their opening, and stayed until around 4pm. At that point we headed down the road a short distance to the Victoria Butterfly Garden, which was more fun than I had anticipated. When that exhibition closed, we headed across the street for dinner at a so-so family restaurant before going back to Butchart Gardens, because they were supposed to be really something to see after dark.

Ross Fountain at Butchart Gardens

Night is slow in coming this far north in mid-summer, and it was well after 8pm before you could tell that the thousands of lights around the garden were on at all. We spent most of the wait in the Japanese garden section, relaxing in a small gazebo, before venturing out into the nearly-deserted gardens. With only about an hour before closing time, all we could really see was the Ross Fountain, with a dozen or so jets of water that dance with coloured lights. People naturally compare all dancing waters to the fabulous fountain at the Bellagio, in Las Vegas, but this fountain predates those by a decade or more; and even so, the Ross Fountain is vastly more relaxing to sit and watch, surrounded as you are by extravagantly gorgeous gardens, rather than the bustle of the Strip.

After that, we just had time to walk through the Sunken Garden on the way out.

On To Canada

First sight of Victoria

for maximum coherence, read all the posts from this trip in order, starting with THIS ONE. 

After meeting everybody at the airport, and trying to park my car in the wrong long-term lot, we finally got away. We drove up to Port Angeles, where we caught the ferry to Victoria, on Vancouver Island in British Columbia.  Cleared customs easily and located our hotel with no trouble. Victoria is a very manageable size, and though we are well out of downtown, it's only a matter of blocks from the hotel to the center of activity. We unpacked and headed out for dinner at a new English pub (because the Persian place we wanted to go to was already closed).

On our first full day, we hit all the highlights of the city: the provincial capitol building;

Miniature World; 

diorama of the battle of Bastogne

the Bug Zoo;

and Craigdarroch Castle, home of western Canada's greatest robber-baron.

We spent a good deal of time walking around, including lunch at a hot dog stand that virtually doesn't exist, and dinner at a locavore place that was pretty good. I would say more, but (a) the pictures more or less tell the entire story, and (2) I'm too tired.

I think the only thing I would particularly want to single out, that's not represented by the pictures, is the truly outstanding job done by a "floor supervisor" named Adriana at Craigdarroch Castle. Of all the employees I've encountered at any tourist site in any city on any continent, she is undoubtedly the most interesting, knowledgeable and entertaining, not to mention vivacious. What would have been a self-guided tour of perhaps an hour in an interesting old house became a truly enlightening and fascinating three hours. She's an argument in favour of human cloning: with more like her, more people would want to know more about history and architecture, and that can only be a boon to society.

Sleepless in Seattle

for maximum coherence, read all the posts from this trip in order, starting with THIS ONE.

Not a clever title, I know, but I thought it was appropriate Saturday night, about one in the morning when I left downtown Seattle to return to my dingy hotel room in Sea-Tac. I went downtown with the idea of taking some night pictures of deserted streets, but (A) my camera battery died and the spare was back in the hotel room; and (B) the streets weren't deserted. Turns out downtown is a happening place in these parts. There are clubs and crowds and more street-people than you can shake a stick at, much as you'd like to. I saw the Gum Wall and the ferris wheel and the Space Needle (from a distance) and had a yakisoba hot dog from a food truck; got into a conversation with the guy behind me in line and now, of course, we're like Best Friends Forever. He and I walked around for a couple of hours and talked until I couldn't stay awake any longer and went back to Sea-Tac.

My plan for Sunday was to go first up to Snoqualmie Falls, then come back to the hotel and do my laundry. Big day. I got as far as the parking lot before deciding it was too cold and wet to go up in the mountains for lousy pictures of a beautiful waterfall, so I surfed the web for a while. Then my new friend Mick (a southern boy, from Mississippi, who used to live in New Orleans, so we had lots to talk about) called and invited me back into the city. Met him on the street corner where we'd said goodnight and he took me up to Pike Market for a newspaper and Ranier cherries and a cabbage (he also likes to cook, so that's more we have to talk about) and, of course, coffee (drinkable; what a pleasant surprise, though he had to make fun of me for just ordering regular coffee), and then we went up to his apartment, on the 24th floor of a building right by the art museum (gorgeous view; wish I'd thought to take the camera with me then, though it hadn't occurred to me until just now that I could have taken pictures of it. If you lean waaaaay out and look left you can see the Space Needle), and we sat out on his balcony and ate cherries and talked for a while. Then I went back to Sea-Tac and did my laundry. Big day. Big day.

magnolia

Yesterday I drove my Western Washington loop, going through all the remaining counties in that part of the state. Along the way I saw the state capitol complex at Olympia, where I was surprised to see magnolia trees. Not big ones, but successful ones, with big blossoms just starting to come out. The capitol building itself is mostly unadorned. The dome seems too large for the building, but not too out of proportion. The office buildings surrounding it are designed in such a way that they all seem very small, though they're not, really. Inside, the building is remarkably plain compared to every other statehouse I've ever been in: understated. The best thing about it is that I was made to feel welcome there. Nobody made me walk through a metal detector, nobody insisted on seeing identification or logging me into some kind of mock-security register of Potential Terrorists Come To Bring Down Western Civilisation. Not at all like the statehouse in Kentucky, for example, where I refused to go in because of all the asinine rigamarole they demanded. The only questions anyone asked me were (1) what's my zip code (for the tourism statistics) and (2) "Can I help you find something?"

Star hydrangea

My next stop was in North Aberdeen, out near the coast, at the Kurt Cobain Landing, a half-assed memorial to the late grunge rocker thrown together at a spot where he used to hang out under a bridge when he was a kid. I'm not a big Nirvana fan, but there aren't many things out on the fringe of America to use as an excuse to visit those counties. The Landing has a sculpture of an electric guitar and some quotes from The Great One on signs and walls; the best part was the easel, empty, labelled "Kurt's Air Guitar."

Willapa NWR

Followed US 101 south from there to Cape Disappointment State Park, near the mouth of the Columbia River. I have a couple of theories about why it's called that. The park has some nice views of the beach (called Long Beach, "the longest driveable beach in the world" at 27 miles), and two decrepit old disfunctional lighthouses, and, of course, views of the mouth of the great river.

decrepit lighthouse A

decrepit lighthouse B

not Long Beach

After that, it was a scenic drive up the Columbia to the freeway that brought me back to Seattle. I did get one clear glimpse of Mt St Helens (which, on my previous visit to this area, had been entirely shrouded in fog), but when I got closer it was hidden behind lower intervening hills; and later, as I approached Seattle, Mt Ranier stood out clear, though getting a picture of it was a real challenge, since the only clear shots were from the freeway. I finally gave up and settled for a picture with a bunch of phone lines in the way.

Forest Fires Force Flexibility

for maximum coherence, read all the posts from this trip in order, starting with THIS ONE. 

So it turns out that the forest fires I mentioned as causing the sky to be smoky in yesterday's post are right astride the routes I planned to take through the state of Washington tomorrow, and all the roads I'd planned to use are closed indefinitely. And this in a part of the world where there are no alternative routes to speak of. So I spent some time last night figuring out how to deal with it, and decided I would continue on my original plan until I reached Sandpoint, Idaho this evening, then cut down to Spokane and head on in to Seattle, getting there a few hours earlier than planned.

I got about 12 miles from Great Falls before the incredible acridity of the air forced me to put the top up, despite the wonderful temperature; and even with the top up, the stench was still unbearable and the visibility was so reduced that mountains a few miles away appeared ghostlike in the haze. I pulled off the road and got out the maps and decided that I would just cut south, to get out of the smoke, and head west on the freeway. The freeway! Yecch! But that's what I did, the upshot being that I got to Seattle (Sea-Tac, actually) today, and now have three nights here instead of two. Also, since so many people have evacuated central Washington (and come here, apparently), all the cheap hotels I'd been looking at on line have now disappeared, and where before I was looking at about $60/night, I'm now paying just over $100. Probably for the same hotel, which is all but full. Every cloud has a silver lining; this cloud of smoke has a silver lining for hoteliers west of the fires.

Need I mention that there was nothing worth stopping to take a picture of along the way? (I did, actually, take one photograph, of a wildfire on top of a low mountain, but I haven't uploaded it yet & probably won't until another day.

Now I have to figure out what to do with myself for two full days here. (I do have a plan of sorts.)

2014 Condo Week pre-trip, days 4 & 5

for maximum coherence, read all the posts from this trip in order, starting with THIS ONE. 

 

The day before yesterday, when I had checked into my motel in Valentine, Nebraska, I started the car to drive down to my room, and it made an odd noise. Sounded kind of serious. Yesterday morning, when I started it up again, it made the same noise, only worse. Uh-oh. You know a Jag is the prettiest car you'll ever see broken down by the side of the road, so we Jag owners tend to worry about noises.

I pulled into a gas station nearby to fill it up, and when I started it again, I heard that same noise, even worse.  Okay, I thought, I ain't a-gonna find anybody in Valentine, Nebraska who knows much about Jaguars, so I will just pray nothing breaks until I get to a bigger place.

fields in summer,
Rosebud Indian Reservation

Stopped for breakfast on the Rosebud reservation, and when I re-started the car, there was that noise again, and even worse. Sounded like a loud grinding noise. Stopped almost immediately, though, as it did each time.

Next stop was in Murdo, South Dakota for the Pioneer Auto Museum. An interesting collection of vehicles (along with toys and miscellaneous memorabilia, much like Elmer's Auto Museum in Wisconsin, which I saw a few weeks ago) slowly rotting away in dust and rust.

a '58 Ford hardtop-convertible

'65 Impala, one of my favourite cars

The horse-collar that doomed the car

a truly significant vehicle, the '38 Chrysler Airflow
Look at the condition this thing is kept in.

the first solar-powered vehicle,
poorly kept

I thought I could find someone who might have some idea about my problem at an automotive museum, but no. So I went on, intending to stop at the Minuteman Missile Nat'l Historic Site before heading over to hike in the Badlands, but along the way decided (after hearing the same horrible noise on starting up at the museum) to go on to Wall, a fairly sizeable town that might have an appropriate resource. I stopped at Wall Drugs (which is a sight in itself -- a city block of tourist attractions of all sorts, from western art to playgrounds to, well, a drugstore) and got directions to the one "pretty good" mechanic in town, but when I started the car, it made no odd noise 

At that point I realized the noise I'd been hearing is the noise you hear when you keep the ignition key turned too long after the engine has engaged. 

What a relief! And don't I feel stupid.

So I went in the back entrance to Badlands National Park. Stopped at a few overlooks, then got out at the Castle Trailhead for a short hike of an hour or so. Brought my water in a canteen and my safari hat and my walking stick just for this experience. 

The Castle Trail is 5 miles long. I obviously wasn't going to hike the whole distance, especially since, though it was only about 88 degrees, it felt like 105. I wandered around for about an hour, thinking there surely must be some kind of trail markers out there, but none were visible beyond a single red plastic pole near the start. Eventually I gave up on finding the trail --- it's all open country there, and you can see hundreds of yards in most directions, except where there's a small bluff or outcropping of rock. Headed back to the trail head, and as I came around the last little bluff, I saw a second red trail marker. It is not visible from the first red trail marker, and the ground is so hard and open that there is no indication of the path from one marker to the next.

Badlands National Park

Seems like they ought to do something about that.

Pulled into Rapid, where I had a hotel reservation, around 5:30, except that I'd gained an hour for the time change (I thought the time zone boundary was the state line). Could have gone another 3 or 4 hours, but for that paid reservation.  So no reservation for tonight, but I made it to Great Falls, Montana, after driving Spearfish Canyon, and

Spearfish Canyon, South Dakota

a detour to Red Lodge and Absarokee (to get a couple of new counties in southeastern Montana) and found a motel with no problem. Lucky me.

The air in Montana is thick with smoke from some forest fires somewhere; a couple of people told me they just started this morning and already the smoke has covered half of this huge state.

No idea what this is.It stands next to Hwy 87 in Montana

Day 3 of the 2014 Condo Week Pre-Trip

 for maximum coherence, read all the posts from this trip in order, starting with THIS ONE.

 

Drove up from Kansas into Nebraska today. This is the part of the country people think of when they hear the term "Flyover Country" but it's actually quite pretty, in a sedate sort of way. First stop was in Gothenburg, Nebraska, where there's an old Pony Express station that was relocated to a city park and restored. Nice little tidbit of American history. Always surprising how the pony express fixes itself into the national consciousness, even though it only lasted a few months. The three originators of the idea went bankrupt after 9 months of service, but the people who would later create Wells Fargo took it over and operated it at some profit for a further 9 months (by cutting the price of mail by 80%, which vastly increased volume and thus revenue), until the telegraph lines were completed coast-to-coast; at which point it became moot.

Just north of the tiny town of Arnold, Nebraska (where I made a short detour for the sole purpose of visiting Logan County), the northbound highway ended, but a city street that becomes a county road runs north. I took that. A couple of miles along, the road suddenly (and I mean suddenly) rises into the Sand Hills, several hundred feet higher and starkly gorgeous: rolling grass-covered hills with deep valleys, vistas in every direction. This goes on mile after mile (especially along the route I took), with only a few small towns to interrupt.  I wouldn't mind living in a place like this, if it never got colder than it was today (60 degrees when I left Kansas, 70 by late afternoon), or hotter. But that's pretty unlikely.

East of Valentine, Nebraska, I went out to see Smith Falls, the highest in the state. You reach it by 15 miles of good road under construction, followed by 4 miles of washboard gravel road, which must keep a lot of people away. The web site for the park claims the height of the falls to be 63', but there's a certain amount of unnecessary puffery in that. The main cataract, where a stream cascades off a cliff in a fascinating bell shape, is only about 30 feet high. The rest of the advertised height is made up of an unimpressive series of small cataracts dribbling away into the Niobrara River, a couple of hundred yards downstream. If they were bigger you might call them rapids.

see the other pictures

Still, it's a beautiful sight. The water on the left side of the falls courses down the rock in small sheets; in the middle, it falls through space in a bridal-veil cascade that spreads wide as it comes down; while on the right, the water is funneled into a sort of flume that gushes out and down, so the three parts of the falls seem to all be moving at different speeds. They all flow into a basin at the bottom and a stream carries it along to the nearby river. The whole falls is contained within a circular hole in the sandstone, making it seem utterly remote from the world. Certainly worth the drive, even if I didn't get a new county by going there.

This Year's Second Big Trip

Condo Week is coming! Condo Week is coming!

Yes, this year's Condo Week will be in Blaine, Washington, just across the border from the Great White North, and I'm already on my way. I left San Antonio yesterday, drove up the freeway (yecch) all day to spend a Monday night in Oklahoma City. (I had to put the top up when it hit 95 degrees; it topped out at 104. Today, by contrast, it never hit 80.)

Several years ago, Oklahoma City did some advertising that made it seem the kind of place I might like to spend a weekend in, so this trip started with a test of that idea. I think now that I'm cured of my desire to spend several days there.  The most interesting thing I saw was the pedestrian bridge across Interstate 40, which connects a large park on the south side of the freeway to what I hope is the seediest area of downtown. The old Union Station, now used for the city's Parking Division, sits at the north end of the bridge, but beyond that are about six blocks of absolute waste before you get to downtown proper.

Note the truck on top
of the self-storage place

From there it was off to Bricktown, an entertainment district in the corner of downtown between two freeways. It seems to be a recently renovated area where they've dug a canal in imitation of
San Antonio's River Walk. Looks like they bought all the old-style river barges when SA upgraded some years back. Maybe in 20 years it will be nicer, but it seems right now to be a shamelessly and pathetically commercial endeavour with none of the charm that makes the Paseo del Rio such an attraction. With luck, though, local businesses (as opposed to the national chains) will move in to give it a uniquely Oklahoma flavour that it now lacks. Right now it's more like a Las Vegas-style mall spread along a fake river.


The thing that most struck me was a sign I saw in a small grassy area next to one of the new upscale apartments just north of Bricktown. There's something radically wrong with the nanny attitudes of a place when they post signs that forbid letting your dog poop on the grass. I think next time I come to Oklahoma City I will save up my dog's output for a couple of weeks, and deposit it along the sidewalks in that area.

Early Tuesday I was out of the hotel, planning to spend a couple of hours hiking in Red Rock Canyon, about an hour west of town. A pretty place: you descend sharply on a tightly curving road until you're in a small forested canyon between sandstone walls. Unfortunately, the only trail in the park, Rough Horsetail Trail, was closed because of flood damage, so I only spent about half an hour in the park.


Then it was up to Liberal, Kansas, where I saw the Land of Oz, which, to be honest, was not worth stopping for. It's the kind of tourist attraction that gives small towns their reputation for being lame. It actually is lame, though I'm sure Liberal is a nice place to live.

From there I went up to Monument Rocks, possibly the country's best-kept secret. I was there a couple of years ago with a friend; this time I spent about an hour wandering around the hoodoos by myself, not another soul in sight. The sky, this time, was more dramatic, and it was later in the day (and much cooler!). I loved it, and took way too many pictures (most of which can be seen in the online album).

And if anybody (besides me) is keeping track, today I went through the last two unvisited counties in Kansas. Tomorrow I'm off to see a Pony Express station and the Highest Waterfall in Nebraska. And I should go through six new counties in that state this trip.