A PICTORIAL REVIEW OF A WONDERFUL WEEKEND

The Snake River looking toward Lewiston on Saturday, April 23. 

 

Grandpa Mike scored this new-in-the-box "Skip Hop" play table at Goodwill. Silas loved it. (He has a play table at home, too, so was totally familiar with the concept.) We were glad we had it.

 

Silas is six months old, and just as wonderful as any grandchild. The difference for us is that we get to see him from time to time. He has one tooth and was working on the second.

Silas and Uncle Murray

Uncle Clint and Silas with Barracuda 

Born to Run

The Winner

My daughter Hallie has always been a runner.  When she won the 5^th grade mile run by a considerable margin, boys included, I realized she had some talent.  A friend whose son competed in the Junior Olympics suggested I enter her in the program.  I did, and we spent the next several spring and summer weekends attending track meets in the Inland Northwest.  She was an instant success and won Inland Northwest championships several times in the 800 meter, 1500 meter and 3000 meter runs.  She also set the Lewiston-Clarkston bi-state junior high school record in the 800 meter which was the longest run in that meet.  The last time I checked she still had that record.

Just Crusin'

 

 

 

The Seaport River Run is an annual event in its 44^th year.  It’s comprised of two courses, a 10K run and a 2.9 mile run beginning in Swallows Nest Park in Clarkston, WA, crossing bridges on the Snake River to Lewiston, ID, and proceeding along the asphalt levy to Hells Gate State Park in Lewiston.  There are always several hundred participants in the combined events.  Although it’s not billed as a race, it is for many and times are recorded.  To my knowledge, Hallie was the youngest to win this event.  She won the 2.9 miles run when she was 12 years old and again the next year.  After those years she was competing in high school track meets on the date of the run.

Hallie & Clint

Fast forward to the present, Hallie is a 40 year old mother of a six month old son living with her husband in Seattle.  She has continued her non-competitive running over the years.  She decided it would be fun to bring the family over for a visit and do the 10K run just for fun and even convinced her brother, Clint, to run as well.  After getting over here I think someone may have mentioned that she might have a good chance to win her age group as she would be at the bottom of it.  At any rate, on race day she ran much faster than she ever imagined she could.  Not only did she win her age group and the Masters group but she won the whole female 10K.  In fact, only 8 men beat her overall.  I would guess she is probably the only nursing mother to win that race.  There were 428 race participants and 135 in the 10K.  Clint was just taking it easy but still finished 54^th.  I was one proud papa.  M/W

FIRST TRIP TO FARM - 2022

We wanted to visit the farm well before now, but we could see that it was still cold there – even dipping into the low 20s last week, and we put it off. But Mike was anxious to turn the water on and make sure the place is ready for our summer stays, so Monday (the 18^th) was the day. We loaded a laundry basket of stuff that belongs there (lots of jelly jars), ham sandwiches for lunch, and Bess. Then we stopped at son Murray’s and took him along, too.

It was overcast – not a particularly pretty day. Patches of snow remain here and there. It reached 50 while we were there. It was 43 in the house.

First off, I unlocked the kitchen door but was unable to fully open it because something was wedged under it on the kitchen side. Well, you can probably guess that a trapped mouse had drug the trap there. I managed to get the door open enough to squeeze myself into the kitchen, but in doing so, I ruined the trap. All told, we trapped seven mice. Mike baited and reset the traps before we left. (Note to self: get more traps.)

I set to work gathering the items on my list. Tackling the fun stuff first, I selected books for 6-month-old Silas. (He’s coming to visit this weekend.) His parents read to him regularly, and he loves it. He prefers stories, says his mother, so I chose quite a number of my favorite books.

When Mike was ready to turn on the water, he stationed Murray and me in the upstairs bathrooms to watch for – and quickly report – any gushing water, but the water stayed in the pipes. All is well. Hopefully, we’re good for the season.

The early daffodils are in bloom now – including the wild variety in the grove as well as the ones I managed to naturalize last November. I love daffodil season. One of the rhubarb plants is making a comeback, and the deer didn’t damage the lilacs. The raised beds need work. I’m not sure if I’ll keep the strawberries.

Mike planted ten flowering trees, babies received from our donation to the Arbor Day Foundation – five white dogwood and five eastern redbud. “Oh, the dogwood won’t make it,” I said. Mike replied laughingly that none of them would make it. We have bad luck with the Arbor Day trees.

And despite our efforts to evict them, the gophers have continued their housing development on the south side of the house and yard. I don’t like to talk about it, but I poisoned holes again yesterday.

The most heartwarming sight was a goose sitting on the south end of the pond. We surmise that she’s sitting on a nest because she was disinclined to move. She stood and honked when Bess was too close for comfort, but she was not intimidated if we kept our distance. I hope it works out well for her family because she has no protection.

I had some trouble with my camera – I think it was just the battery – so I used my phone to take most of the pictures here. It’s probably time to think about a new camera. Or, maybe my phone will be my camera. KW

MID-CENTURY EASTER TRADITIONS

Me with my parents, 195?

As I dressed in my warmest clothes today, including a winter sweatshirt, I thought of my mother and how she loved tradition. Each major holiday was an occasion for an extended family reunion – as many of the family as she could manage to gather – with the appropriate trimmings. Believe me, it takes forethought and organization to do that.

Back in the day, Mother always made my Easter outfit (and sometimes her own) and completed it with new undergarments and accessories, including hats. The process involved shopping some weeks in advance of Easter for patterns and fabric and then closer to the date for shoes, purses, hats, etc. And our outfits always included some sort of jacket or light coat because often Easter was a chilly day. The process of all this making and shopping was time-consuming, but it was what we did – and what a lot of people did – back in the day.

Saturday prior to Easter, we always dyed Easter eggs, and of course, we had plenty of candy on hand – mostly jelly beans and marshmallow eggs – to fill my Easter basket as well as those of Mother’s grandchildren who happened to be present. We also hid eggs around the house, and that became my chore as I grew older. I don’t remember that we had much chocolate, except for the obligatory hollow chocolate bunny. My Easter basket had fluffy chicks and plastic eggs, and on Easter morning I’d find a small gift of some sort.

When I was a teenager, we dabbled in decorating hollowed eggs. We bored a hole in both ends of the egg and then blew out the innards. Mother then decorated them and tied them onto a deciduous branch clipped from our yard. The idea came from a magazine because, of course, there were no online tutorials in those days. We had to learn by trial and error.

You know, I loved doing projects with my mother, but I always thought that by getting so involved, we missed the point of the day, which needs quiet pondering. And working against a deadline is always stressful.  

One of our sons visited us this morning and another will join us for a ham and cheese grits dinner (carrot cake for dessert) this evening, and setting the table with the good china will be my one concession to the traditions of yesteryear. KW

GOING MASKLESS / GETTING BOOSTED

“Go ahead and take off your mask,” say the pandemic officials, “but you’d better get a second booster.” Does it make sense that we can let down our guard if we need another booster?

I waited nearly an hour at Albertsons this morning to get boosted, even though I had an appointment. "We forgot about you," said the pharmacist. I would have done as well -- perhaps better -- if I had just walked in. The advantage of getting the shot at Albertsons is that they reward you with a grocery coupon, and today they gave me an extra $5.00 coupon because I had “slipped between the cracks.” But next time – oh yes, there will undoubtedly be a next time – I might try elsewhere. To be fair, these are difficult times for providers.

Meanwhile, we’re having another week of winter, and some folks are complaining about the inclement weather, especially the cold temps. And because it’s cold and not much fun outdoors, some of us are showing signs of cabin fever.

Our yoga group started in-person sessions again this week, and Mike and I have participated. And Mike and Bess have resumed visits to several residential care centers. KW

SNOW ON THE DAFFODILS

I’m sitting here in my recliner on this cold April Sunday morning sipping hot chocolate and watching it snow while a cheery fire burns in the little stove. Mike says spring here in our corner of the world is his least favorite season. You think it’s getting warm and then it’s cold again. Well, at least it’s been that way this year. And Chris comments that some years we don’t have spring – so true! – which reminds me that some years we don’t get any fruit at the farm. I would love it if our new apple trees would reward our efforts and bear this year.

I’ve mentioned before that my grandmother Ina often left the farm after Christmas to spent the winter and “mud season” with relatives in Washington and Oregon. From Portland, OR, on May 5, 1949, her daughter Myrtle (a.k.a. Aunt Lynn) wrote to her brother Earle as follows:

“Ma [Ina] left this A.M. for Drain and will stay two weeks or so. I warned her to watch the rise of rivers, for last year she was caught here by the flood and couldn’t even cross the Columbia to go to Seattle. This year it will be worse for the government survey shows that the snow is the heaviest on record in the Rockies. So far, we have only reasonably high water caused by heavy rains last weekend. It snowed in the mountain regions. And with continued cold high up the snow will hold and go at once like it did last year. I dread it – wish the weather would begin now to be warm. It seldom rises here beyond 60 degrees, and that will never start the snow.” [I think she means that when it’s 60 at low altitude, it’s still cold enough at higher elevations to keep the snow from melting.]

Well, extra snow in the mountains is not a problem this year, and it will likely be another dry summer. So far this season, we’ve had sun, clouds, and wind but very little precipitation. People here dislike dull, rainy days – and they like snow even less – but the fact is that without moisture, we’re in drought.

Mike had planned a motorcycle ride yesterday but “wimped out” (his words) due to cold temps and wind at upper elevations. Well, it was a wise decision. When in doubt, don’t. Instead, he weeded the daffodils, bless his heart, and I got groceries. KW 

WAITING FOR WARMER WEATHER

Here we are in the early days of spring, and consistent with the timing, mornings are chilly with occasional frost, while afternoons are pleasantly warm if the sun is visible. We haven’t had much rain, and I think we could use more. 

We had tentatively planned to turn on the water at the farmhouse this week but thought better of it when we noted that next week the forecast shows the lows dropping into the low 20s for several days. We decided to play it safe and not tempt fate.  

Even though it's too early to plant, it's not too early to plan. I could tell that the good folks at W. Atlee Burpee & Company wanted me to make an order, so I did, and now it’s here. I received two varieties of sunflowers; a package of lettuce seed – six varieties that are supposed to withstand heat; Burpee’s best hybrid zucchini (“early harvest, out of this world yields, and exceptional vigor”); and a package of spinach (“grows best in cool weather,” as always).

Well, we’ll see what comes of all this. By the time all danger of frost is past, it will probably rain steadily for two weeks and make the soil soggy, and then it will be June and hot and the seeds won’t germinate, or the rabbits will eat them, or whatever it is that happens to bring my efforts to naught. But when I think of those who have lost everything to today’s tornados and fires, I just count my blessings. I can always buy our produce. 

Meanwhile, Mike and I have been doing yard work here in town. I have clipped back the wormwood (Silver Sage) and pulled out some of the lavender and other vegetation that died back in last summer’s heat. We loaded the pick-up bed with yard waste and hauled it to the landfill, but we have more yard work to do.

Our ornamental cherry tree burst into bloom last week, but the wind played havoc with her blossoms. Her peak was short-lived. 

Just to recap the winter’s creative efforts and provide pictorial interest, here are a couple of finished items in the doll clothes category. I made the sweater from a winter cap purchased at the Dollar Tree and the jacket from a small remnant. Oh – and I also made the leggings, needed for modesty. The motivating factor in sewing for my dolls is mostly to try patterns and use fabric. I seem to struggle with it some. I miss sewing for a little girl’s doll. KW 

DEATH VALLEY - 5 (FINAL)

on the afternoon we arrived in Beatty we took the opportunity to ride
out to Rhyolite as it was only about six miles away.  I've combined these two visits in one posting.

Artist's practice casting

The Last Supper (table missing)

 

Ceramic tile couch (why?)

Bottle House

What's left of Bullfrog, SW of Rhyolite

Building bottle house

Rhylolite is actually just east of the park 

boundary.   Gold was discovered at the Bullfrog mine just west of Rhyolite in 1904 and led to the last American gold rush.  This was once the biggest town in the Death Valley area boasting a population of 5,000-10,000 during its heyday from 1905 - 1911 but the beginning of the end came with the financial panic of 1907 and the last mine closed in 1908. It once had 2 churches, 50 saloons, 18 stores, 2 undertakers, 19 lodging houses, 8 doctors, 2 dentists, a stock exchange and an opera. Along with the ruins there is a more modern art museum as well as a well a preserved house made from bottles which was not totally unique as wood was in short supply. On our first visit there we had taken a couple of rough back roads – one to a cemetery for a geocache and the other a loop back to the highway.  On the loop I made one of the most perilous and lucky crossing of a rocky stretch that I’ve made.  I was shaky after that little stretch.  We climbed up a small mountain just off the highway to get a geocache on the way back.  We found another good barbeque place back in Beatty for dinner.  We had traveled 165 miles that day and 470 for the Death Valley part of the trip.

We found a better way back to Winnemucca the next day and were making such good time that we went on to Boise and had breakfast the next morning with son Milo and grandson Mason.  It was a fantastic trip that I’ll never forget. M/W

DEATH VALLEY - 4

While Titus Canyon had a lot of challenging road, every destination Thursday was on gravel roads with some tough spots.  We were on the road at 7:45 heading south on Highway 190.  This was all uphill and often we had the throttles pegged to maintain 50 mph.  As we continued to climb and it got colder and colder until finally at the summit I realized we must have missed a turnoff.  So we reversed course and rode back down to Wildrose Road which led off to the east. After ridding quite a distance we made a left turn on a gravel

road up to Aguereberry Point. The last part of this road was touch and go for me.  We finally hit the top at over 6,400 feet.  It afforded us some of the most spectacular views of the trip and as a bonus it was the only destination where we didn’t see a single person.  After hiking around the point a bit and taking some pictures we headed back down to Wildrose.

At Wildrose we took a left and continued up to where we got on a gravel road to the Charcoal Kilns. The kilns looked like 10 giant beehives. There was a campground just before the kilns so true to form there people here too.  The mountain surrounding the kilns is forested and 100+ years ago trees were harvested to feed the kilns and the charcoal has hauled out to be used in various smelters.  We hiked around there a bit before heading back down. 

Skidoo present

Skidoo past

On the way up Wildrose we had skipped the turnoff to the Skidoo Mine so as we were doing ok timewise we decided to do it.  Another 10 miles of gravel some of which was a bit challenging but  worth it.  At the end of the road was the mine site where

there had also been of town of 500 between 1907 and 1909.  The town had applied to the post office for the name “23 Skidoo” but the post office wouldn’t  allow a town to begin with a number so it was omitted.  Two or three vehicles (4 wheel drive) showed up while we were there.  We took a lunch break near a mine entrance tunnel.

We rode back to Stove Pipe Wells Village and topped off our tanks.  Before leaving the area we rode up another gravel road to the Mosaic Canyon where we hiked up the canyon about a half mile.  It had been carved by eons of rushing water leaving smooth rock on each side in different colors.  There were quite a few folks here too.

We still had plenty of daylight so we took the Daylight Pass and returned to Rhyolite to further explore the area. [To be continued] 

M/W