A Short Hike

I know no subject more elevating, more amazing, more ready to the poetical enthusiasm, the philosophical reflection, and the moral sentiment than the works of nature. Where can we meet such variety, such beauty, such magnificence?
-- James Thomson

Sunday, September 5, 1999
One year ago: Jack and Vanguard
Two years ago: Career Girls

Today we had a big cookout! But the plague of wasps meant that we ate inside.

The friends of Jack's dad (K--- and P---, the older couple who recued us in Ellensburg a few weeks ago) have been staying in the motorhome that Jack and I slept in that night. They parked it beyond the pole barn, so I didn't realize it was there at first! K--- took charge of filleting one of the Klickitat salmon that had been thawed out. I was sitting in the hammock under a willow tree, reading a book on the Dow theory. The clouds of wasps were amazing, buzzing around K--- as he knelt on the lawn, boning the fish. But K---- moved calmly, slowly, cutting away the fish bones, and he didn't get stung.

Jack's father and K--- barbecued the fish, along with pork ribs and beef ribs. They joshed with each other about the proper way to cook it, and separated the fish into two piles on the serving platter according to whose philosophy had been followed. But really, neither one is that fond of eating salmon; they just like to catch it!

I refused to give an opinion as to which was better. "You don't say much, Anita!" cackled Jack's dad, "But I bet when you want to speak, you don't have trouble making yourself heard!" which I think is true.

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Jack's sister K--- had driven over from the Dalles, with her two children -- and a three-month-old puppy! That certainly added to the activity level in the house. The first thing the little cocker spaniel pup did was take a crap on the rug about two feet from Jack, which displeased him mightily. There really was a lack of anyone who would give the imperfectly housebroken dog the attention and supervision it needed.

After our late lunch/feast, Jack decided to get all the kids to help with washing my car. I don't remember the last time I washed it; it hadn't ever seemed like a good idea to run it through a car wash with a broken rear quarter window. The five kids (Jack's daughter H---, her friend, another boy and girl belonging to K----, and young A---, son of Jack's other sister) weren't especially eager, but they did cooperate. We took rags and soapy water and really scrubbed, and got most of the grime off. Jack rinsed the car periodically, getting his daughter a bit wet when she didn't move away from the car. (I think she got the same warnings as the rest of us.) So I slipped each kid a few bucks. Maybe I'll have the interior detailed when I get home!

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I suggested to Jack that we take a short walk or hike. I know that this is something he likes to do when he's at his parents' place, and we'd been to busy up till this time. I might have been a bit over-equipped, with my daypack (with emergency supplies) and hat, but my boots were just the right thing.

We walked up the gravel road to the bluff, detouring over the hill to a place where heavy equipment was being used to dig shale (but they weren't digging today). I declined the chance to scramble down a cliff to a creek -- too steep! And that wasn't Jack's goal anyway. We went on up the hill, then snuck off between the "no trespassing" signs. "I know the owner here," he said, "but we'll go this way to avoid potential problems."

We were walking across the top of the bluff, scrambling across a few slopes. The ground was mostly open (and very dry), with scrub oak and some lodgepole pine. "This was more pleasant walk before the fire," said Jack. "There weren't these dead trees to climb over."

Suddenly there was an old house up ahead. This site hadn't been lived in for a long time; the well was dry and there wasn't a single pane of glass left. We didn't go inside, but around, and close to the edge of the bluff. This had been Jack's goal all along, to come up and enjoy the view. We sat down on the ground, a bit closer than was comfortable for me, and got out the sodas I had carried in my pack.

The view was gorgeous! The Klickitat river was sparkling below. There were a few cows grazing in a pasture across the river at the bottom of the valley. Jack talked about sitting up there in earlier years, seeing the sun rise when he'd drive down and arrive in the middle of the night. We saw an eagle below us, swooping from one side of the valley to the other, scanning the water for fish. That's one of the things Jack had been hoping for.

We finished our drinks, and scrambled our way back up. Jack guided us across the bluff, rather than back to the road, taking the deer trails. I actually saw a deer ahead of us, but Jack didn't see him. We did see the places where deer had bedded down for the night, and evidence of wild turkeys, too!

I did get uncomfortable when we were scrabbling and stumbling down the side of the bluff, for fear it should get too steep. I didn't complain, but Jack said later that I made a little growling noise when I was concerned. I was successful in getting down, though, and soon we were at the old lava flow that keeps the creek from washing away the bluff. Jack took off his boots and dabbled his feet in the water. I saw evidence of crayfish: their bleached-out empty claw shells. I didn't find any living specimens, though. Jack said his mother used to trap and eat them!

The streambed is so rocky, we had no trouble picking our way across, and home again. What a nice walk!

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In the evening, we watched some satellite tv (Lost in Space with go-go dancers! crazy, man!) then went to bed early again. While Jack was asleep right away, I used the flashlight to finish my book, Rose Daughter by Robin McKinley. I could have stayed up to read any of these nights, but I wanted to be close to Jack even if he's asleep.