Weekend Fun

This blog is for all of you who have been wondering what I have been up to on the weekends.  It will be mostly just a photo blog of some of the fun times I've had with friends and family lately.  I don't really have much to say about these, other than that I had a blast trying to capture some of the joy of childhood that goes on all around me and to share some of my favorite photos from these times.



The first photo is actually not one that I took.  In fact I'm not sure who took this one since I wasn't even there to see!  About a month ago I had visited some friends and accidentally left my camera behind.  I told them they were free to use the camera if they wanted and they managed to take a few photos.  I liked this one so I decided to post it to the blog.



Here is a favorite of mine from two weeks ago when I got to see two very tiny goats that had just been born.  These were the cutest, tiniest goats I have seen and were a great deal of fun to watch as they played around with the older goats.



Speaking of newborns, these two baby lambs think they are goats, trying to play King of the Mountain on a large rock.  They were quite adept at jumping up onto the rock and seemed to enjoy taking great leaps back off onto the grass.



I spent the whole day last Saturday with my cousins and we had some great times playing outside after the rain.  The sun came out just long enough for us to go on a pretty little hike, after playing outside the house for awhile.



This little one can never resist a mud puddle.  As you will see later on in this blog, getting wet is one of her very favorite things to do.



She is also very good at climbing trees.



This is the view at the start of our hike, looking down on Hood Canal near the Hamma Hamma estuary.  I had actually never seen this particular view point.



Here is another view looking north, the bustling metropolis of Eldon in the background.  The main channel of the Hamma Hamma River is in the lower left of the picture.  What an amazing view and what a beautiful place to live.  I am so grateful to live here on the Olympic Peninsula where I can enjoy such rare beauty every day.



This nice old log looked like a good place to take a group shot, so we started lining up the children.  You can tell how much they are enjoying this little outing.



Finally, all four children are posed and ready for the picture.  Actually, they were not quite ready here, but I liked this shot much better than the more posed one later where they are all looking at the camera.



The trail wasn't really this rough, but of course you have to explore every hillside and tree root.



This little girl crafted a work of art out of the red clay from along the road.  She eventually packed this and shaped it until it was perfectly round and hard like a ball.



And of course to protect her treasure she made a pouch out of a large maple leaf to carry it in.  Several other treasures ended up in my coat pockets to be carried the rest of the way home.



At the end of the journey, we take a break and play in the sunshine, which was actually getting quite warm by now.  Here the cousins are making a volcano in a dirt pile.



The most fun however, was playing in the huge mud puddle here, or at least these three thought so.



This was fresh rain water and rather cold, but that didn't stop them from having a blast running and jumping in the puddle.



Those pants are going to be fun to wash out when we get home.



I'm glad for parents who are willing to put up with a little extra work in the laundry to let their children enjoy the delights of childhood.



Don't you wish you could have this much fun when it rains?



Finally, things are winding down and now it is time to just sit and bask in all this wet, muddy bliss.



On Sunday there was an open house at Wilderness Northwest, a Christian camp.



This fabulous tree house is technically not part of the camp property, but actually part of The Refuge, which is a Christian retreat center right next door.



"Would you like a haircut", she asks, holding two play table knives in her hand.  Don't you love the way this huge maple grows right up through the center of the treehouse?



A plastic tool becomes hair spray in the Maple's Tree Salon.



Here is another of the darling play houses on the property of The Refuge.  This retreat center is designed to be a retreat not only for adults, but for whole families and so there are many wonderful places for children to play.



There is even a Dutch door and working latch.



Inside are all the accommodations of home.  What a wonderful place for these little girls to play house.  I have to admit none of my treehouses or forts ever looked quite this nice.



Finally, it is time to check the mail.  I think this leaf is going to be mailed to the other girls, still playing in the treehouse.

Sunset in the Olympics

I really hoped to have some of my own photos to include with this entry, because if ever there was a blog entry that deserves good photos it is this one. Unfortunately, I did not have my camera along to photograph one of the most incredible scenes I have ever witnessed. I hope to yet capture this scene and will be sure to include that photo if I get it. In the meantime, I will do my best to describe what I saw.

This week started off with some fairly nice weather and my cousin Lucy and I decided to take a late evening hike up into the mountains. So we headed off toward Mt. Ellinor at about 7:30pm, just as the last group of people were coming back down off the mountain. The sun was still pretty bright and clear, but getting lower in the sky, so it was actually fairly chilly when we started, despite highs in the 80s that day. But the cool night air made for comfortable hiking as we started up the steep, winding trail, glowing with excitement of getting away from civilization and the bustle and noise of the lowlands. Lucy and I are both most content when trekking through the mountain wilderness.

The snow had been melting in the recent warm days, so we didn't find snow on the trail until we got to the fork which divides the summer and winter trails. The summer trail is still pretty packed with snow, so we took the winter trail, up the chute. The snow was several feet deep, but just perfect for hiking, not so soft that your legs plunge deep into it, but not so hard that you slide around across the top. It was nicely crunchy and only a little slippery. So we made excellent time going up and were able to climb all the way to the top of the chute in less than 90 minutes. We spotted several mountain goats on the rocky crags over us, looking down on us as though we didn't belong. As we came to the last, steepest climb, up the flow of ice and snow which narrowly squeezes between the rocky cliffs of the mountain, we were both getting a little tired and took a break to look out over the Puget Sound which was clear as far as the eye could see in any direction. I could see all the way from Mt. Baker in the north, to Mt. Rainier, Mt. Adams, and Mt. Saint Helens toward the south. The lights of Seattle and Tacoma were visible in the distance and the setting sun was beginning to bathe the snowy peaks of the Cascades with a bright orange glow. The city lights had a noticeable twinkle to them, which made them sparkle like jewels in a setting of dark green evergreens and blue waters. What a beautiful state this is. But the best was yet to come.

We hurried up the pace a bit as we crossed the bowl in order to get to the high ridge that looks out on the inner mountains of the Olympics. We were aware that the daylight was rapidly dimming and that it would be wise to begin descending again very soon. But we had come this far, and only a few more minutes lay between us and that glorious sight that can only be seen when you are high enough in the mountains to actually be able to look deep into the heart of the Olympic Mountains. Soon we climbed up over the jagged peaks of the ridge and rested against a large rock. The view was absolutely breathtaking. The red-orange glow of the sun was settling over the highest snow-capped peaks of the inner peaks of the Olympics, and every angle was clear and unhindered by clouds or haze. The rocky cliffs, poking their way out of the snow, reflected all shades of blue and purple, with each successive layer of distance causing the color to be slightly more muted. The words purple mountains majesty came to mind, as this was a very apt description of what was before us. We both stood there quietly, just taking in this rare moment of witnessing the beauty of God's creation at it's most sublime. I didn't even think of the fact I had no camera with me at this time, only regretting it later, but could only think how blessed I was to gaze upon this scene of rare beauty that is witnessed by very few people, since it is rather uncommon to happen to be sitting at the top of such a vantage point like this at precisely the moment such a perfect sunset unfolds.

Taking my eyes off the distant beauties for a moment, I glanced down to the rocks at my feet and noticed another rare sight, that of the lovely Flett's Violets, growing there in the cracks in the rocks, in the harshest of environments. This cheery little flower can be found only in rocky crevices of the Olympic Mountains, nowhere else in the world! It has pinkish-purple, petals and hardy dark green leaves. It is hard to imagine how such a delicate looking flower can survive the harsh conditions of this place where snow and ice are present most of the year and soil is pretty much non-existent.



I found the above picture of the Flett's Violet on the National Park Service web site. Someday I plan to get a picture of my own to add to my collection of native wildflower photos of Washington State. The environment of the Olympic National Park is so unique that there are several plants found nowhere else in the world. I hope to eventually photograph every one of them. If you would like to see a nice gallery of high quality images from Mt. Ellinor and vicinity check out this web site.  Here is one of their shots showing the bowl and the ridge we climbed to get the sunset view.  The clouds here, obscuring the mountains beyond, are more typical of what can be expected from this vantage point before July.



As the last rays of sun disappeared behind the mountains to the west, the temperature noticeably dropped within a very short time. We were, after all, at the top of a mountain, nearly 6000 feet high, surrounded by snow and ice. The descent was a lot more fun than the climb. We skied with our shoes down off the ridge into the snow bowl and did remarkably well at staying upright. From there, we literally ran across the bowl to the edge of the chute and then began our careful climb back down. It turned out that we could actually keep a pretty good pace once we got the hang of digging in our heels and walking down as if descending a long, steep staircase. It required careful balance to avoid toppling headlong into the snow and sliding rapidly down to the bottom. Lucy was determined to find a good way to slide down part of the way in the safer spots and finally figured out how to do this successfully. But I was able to nearly keep up with her just walking, with a pretty good pace, down the slopes. Soon we were back at the fork and out of the snow and finally in need of our flashlights to guide us on the trail to the car. As is tradition, Lucy recited trail poems for me to help pass the time and set the mood for a relaxing return hike. The moon was shining through the trees, casting strange shadows on the trail before us and creating an eerie mood. This seemed to be perfect for a recitation of The Highwayman by Alfred Noyes. There is nothing quite like the expressive voice of Lucy reciting poems along the trail, when one's feet are aching and legs are tired. But this one was especially perfect as the moonlight wound its way through the trees and such words as When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas, when the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor were being quoted in dramatic voice. It made for a perfect end to our high adventure.