Cascade Loop

I have found out that there ain't no surer way to find out whether you like people or hate them than to travel with them.
-- Mark Twain

Sunday, September 26, 1999
One year ago: The Moons of Jupiter

Jack had proposed a weekend road trip, doing part of the Cascade Scenic Loop Highway. He was going to drive to a shopping mall a bit south of Seattle, to trade daughters with his ex-wife for the weekend. (His 15-year-old daughter is back living with him again, after running away more times than I can count in the last six months.) I had everything ready here, so I was "resting my eyes" for a while. Suddenly I was startled by his disembodied voice! I evidently hadn't heard the front-door buzzer, so Jack had walked around to my bedroom window and was calling my name.

After I recovered my wits and let them in, we decided to walk down the street to HopScotch, the restaurant with a specialty in single malt scotches. A bite to eat (including that delicious bread pudding) and a shot of 10-year-old LaPhroig (for Jack), and we went home to fall asleep. Jack was determined to get an early start in the morning. "Set the alarm for five fifteen, then push me out of the bed, ok?" Hmmm. I'm not taking responsiblity for that! But I did set the alarm.

The wind came up so strongly during the night, that I kept being woken up by the bedroom door banging. I didn't wake up enough to figure out that I could get up and put something on the floor to prevent the banging, though. Instead I was just annoyed all night.

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Saturday morning we got on the road early, around seven thirty. We drove to the north and east, through little towns that were formerly devoted to logging. There was evidence of the windstorm on the edges of the roads, broken branches and fallen leaves. We saw one tree actually resting on the power lines! The weather was cool, raining and blowing, all the way up to Stevens Pass.

We broke through to the other side, the eastern side of the mountains, then drove down a gorgeous valley in mixed rain and snow. It gradually got sunnier, until we had to break out our shades with the sun glaring off the wet roads. We were immediately in the town of Leavenworth.

Leavenworth is an interesting place! It's a small town that decided to remake itself into a resort, with a Bavarian theme. Why? I still haven't found that out. It isn't that there's any appreciable number of German immigrants there.

We were suprised to see sawhorses and blocked roads -- there was going to be a parade! It was the first weekend of the Autumn Leaf Festival. The Lions Club was serving up a chuck wagon breafast feast in the park, so instead of an early lunch, we had a late breakfast of pancakes, sausages, scrambled eggs and ham. Very tasty!

We spent a few hours wandering through the gifte shoppes (be sure to prounounce the e on the end -- gift-ey shop-ees) and saw any number of cuckoo clocks, t-shirts, nutcrackers, t-shirts, and t-shirts. I didn't see anything that struck my fancy. I think I probably could have found some unique craft items, but it would have taken more time than we had. Jack did get a book that he'd been looking for, and we found an inexpensive clothing shop that had things that his daughter H--- was satisfied with. (She'd forgotten the bag with her clothes in it, when her father picked her up Friday night.)

The parade had high-school bands, floats from various towns in the state (left over from their own community parades?) and beer wagons and German bands.

Jack wondered why I didn't take pictures in the town, but I wasn't interested in documenting the parade, and there wasn't a good opportunity for pictures of ourselves.. Here are some interesting pictures of the beer wagon which is an important feature of the parade. The community service group that does a lot of the Germanification of the town has a good site. Warning -- polka midi file on the home page!

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We drove east towards Wenatchee. The land got drier and drier, until it was semi-arid verging on desert. There are apple and pear orchards, irrigated a month or so of the year, on every patch of level ground. This is the land of Applets and Cotlets, the famous sticky fruit-based candy. We didn't stop for a tour of the factory in the town of Cashmere.

We drove (in clear sunshine, now) along the Columbia river. I hadn't realized that the Columbia turns north in the middle of the state, and heads towards Canada. I guess I thought that it ended up in Idaho or somewhere! The large hills and bluffs on either side were covered with scrub and sagebrush, except where fruit orchards were growing.

We took a side road that brought us out on the shores of Lake Chelan, a fifty-mile long lake. It's not entirely created by the dam at the town of Chelan; it existed before. We drove into the state park there and snacked on bagels and apples. We walked along the beach, and chatted with a scuba diver who was preparing his tanks for the next dive. (The government site above doesn't show the beauty of the park and lake; I'd link to a virtual tour but the awful midi music is putting me off. Oh, well, turn off the sound and here you go.)

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Finally, the Methow valley (pronounced Met-how). This was where we planned to spend the night. Little towns, some cattle, but most people make their living from tourism, in some way. I liked this ISP site. They have an active bbs (but the post from Anita isn't mine)

In the late afternoon, around four o'clock, we reached Winthrop. We see "no vacancy" signs, which alarms us! After passing several such, we turned around and drove quickly to the Best Western motel, which we'd passed by at first. It didn't fit with our dream of old west quaintness and romantic comfort, but it was available! We got a room (reportedly the last one they had), brought our stuff inside, then drove a short distance to the heart of town. (We should probably have had reservations, but it's been a long time, about twenty five years, since Jack was last here, and he didn't know it had turned into such a popular spot, even past the peak season.)

The town, like Leavenworth, has "themed" itself. Old West. wooden sidewalks, false fronts, artfully weathered paint. We walked from store to store. I'd forgotten that one of our goals was to find H--- a bathing suit, so she could enjoy the hotel pool and spa with the rest of us. The craft and souvenir stores were nice, but the used book store actually had some books that Jack wanted to buy.

As we were walking along, and choosing a restaurant, we were surprised to see a bunch of hot rods and classic cars cruising down the main street. We could get good views, because there was a four-way stop in the middle of the town. Jack was ecstatic! He pulled me to him and whispered about the physical effects seeing such gorgeous craftsmanship had on him, which did startle me! We asked one of the drivers who had parked his car, what was the occasion? A car rally? "No," he said, "one of our club members is moving out of state, so we decided to get together for a last run."

After dinner and ice cream (licorice for me!) we went back to the hotel and walked down to the river. It was dusk, almost dark, but I wanted to take advantage of the path. Jack smoked his pipe and we admired the rushing water. It was dark as we walked back. We could see the brush fire on the mountain, which had been a big topic of discussion in the town. I trusted that if they needed to evacuate the town, we'd hear about it!

We got on our swimming togs (we had been successful in our quest for a swim suit for H---) and tested the swimming pool. Though putatively heated, it seemed plenty cold to my foot, so I didn't qet in. Instead we went straight to the hot tub, removed the bubble-plastic cover, and turned on the jets! What luxury! The temperature was warm, but overpowering. We soaked ourselves and chatted with a young couple that joined us. Jack knows the right things to say: he said that the only negative of his move to Bellingham was that it took him farther from me!

All warm and relaxed, we watched the better part of Stage Door, a classic movie of the thirties. I like the interplay between Katherine Hepburn and Ginger Rogers!

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I woke up Sunday morning after a lucid dream, unusual for me. I remember that when I figured out that I was dreaming, and something upleasant to me occurred in the dream, I said to myself, "well, in that case, I'll just fly off in my car here!" and turned the wheel so as to go floating off above the rooftops of my neighborhood.

We sampled the continental breakfast, then drove back to downtown Winthrop to have espresso at the same place we'd had ice cream the previous evening. (Jack wasn't impressed by the strength or flavor of the hotel coffee.) This little establishment also had a miniature golf course, set behind a false building facade, down below street level, along with the ice cream stand and sweet shop we'd patronized the night before.

We also stopped at the Shafer Museum, one block off the main drag. One of the main businessmen in town during the middle part of this century had had a great interest in the history of the Methow valley, and had worked a long time on gathering together old buildings, tools, antiques, and mining equip-ment. Volunteers work on it now; an impressive effort! Here you see the three of us examining an ore crusher, used in the gold mining they used to do here. The buildings were all closed at the time we were there, so we peered in the windows.

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We drove off up the valley, to the actual North Cascades Scenic Highway. There was only the one small hamlet of Mazama, some nice cabins and ranches, then we were in the National Forest lands, gaining altitude all the time. It's a good thing we stopped at this overlook when we did -- we were in the clouds when we we actually crossed the pass. The peaks were very dramatic! H--- was made nervous by the steep drop at the edge of the viewpoint pullout. She felt dizzy, perhaps from looking at the mountains, or perhaps from a touch of altitude sickness (do you get it that fast?).

It began to snow and the temperature dropped, but the roads remained clear. We pulled over for a minute at the actual summit, and Jack started throwing snowballs, in his sandals the while! We drove on down the highway, Jack only moderately frustrated by some drivers who wouldn't let him go as fast as he wanted.

After we passed the summit, the weather was alternately sunny, raining, warm, windy, and cool. When we pulled off at a viewpoint, a man was very jolly, explaining to all comers that you could feed these birds (Jack knows them as camp robbers) from your hand. I felt that this wasn't the most ecologically sound thing to do, but of course we all tried. Their little claws were sharp, but not enough to prick the skin.

We drove down the long, steep valleys -- beautiful jade colored lakes, courtesy Seattle City Light dams -- and into the upper Skagit valley.

A Marblemount resident, Steve Johnson, posted photos of the journey across the pass, when it opened this spring. The pictures take a while to load, but they show why the road is closed during the winter.

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We stopped for lunch at the Log Cabin Inn at Marblemount. It was originally a roadhouse, serving the travelers heading to the gold strike across the pass, and the logs are still visible on the outside. On the inside, it's all flocked red wallpaper and some very odd scallopped ceilings. The sevice was slow, but the food was good. Hot turkey sandwich, yum!

The road led through mixed woods and farmlands. We had some time, so I hoped we'd find something fun to do on the way. Success! We saw a sign, shortly after Arlington, for the Corn Maze!

Jack had been wanted to try one for a long time. We hopped out, paid our admission, and set off trying to solve the puzzle. Jack and H--- walked faster than I did, but kindly waited for me every now and then so I wasn't separated from them. We cut back and forth from one end to the other, looking for signs depicting the various rooms and people that we were supposed to find. It was fun! There was a faint odor of cow manure, but it wasn't overpowering or unpleasant, just rural. We finally solved the secret message of the maze, with the help of another group.

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We arrived at the mall in plenty of time for Jack to trade daughters with his exwife again. There was certainly an atmosphere change, as older daugter A--- started trying to argue with him about whether, if she got probation on a warrant she has against her in Olympia, she would end up being off the particular program she's on now in Bellingham, which would please her. But that's not the way it will work out, as far as Jack knows. Instead, she'll have one probation officer for both the Olympia warrant, and the Bellingham youth-at-risk program.

As we drove to my place, Jack and I talked about possibilities for next weekend. Saturday night is Vanguard, which I'd like to go to, especially as I missed last month, and Jack would like to go with me. A friend of Jack's is going to help him with home-brewing some beer, but we don't know if that is Saturday or Sunday yet. So we are really up in the air here!

What a fun weekend! We had a lot of serendipity, with parades, festivals, hot rods, and the corn festival, all unplanned for. Jack was really good about not complaining about all the driving. (I'd expressed my hopes about that before we left, since the whole trip was his idea.) I've certainly seen far more of this state since taking up with Jack than I ever had in the ten years before!