Short post, but it's part of the story of the year, so I did want to share. There's not going to be many pictures (I always seem to take fewer when I'm out with others), and almost no mention of birds.
"I've never been to the Blue Mountains."
This was from Mom, during my July trip. She and Dad had come out to Washington State from back East when they were 30ish. I was their youngest at the time (with three older siblings) and have no memory of times before being in Washington. They had made the move in a very "Go West" fashion, leaving behind their parents and siblings to get a new start in life. Dad had worked at Campbell's and found that he had a calling in the food industry - something that would eventually lead to many years as an industrial engineer in Yakima, as well as South America. Washington had the right mix of opportunity and beauty necessary to bring a young family across the country.
I have some memories of living on Lake Shoecraft, and later on Lake Goodwin - both in the seven lakes area of Snohomish County. A kid couldn't ask for more, with frogs to catch in the nearby creek, and berries aplenty in the woods and along the dirt driveways leading from house to house at the lake. We climbed trees and put forts in them. We learned about stinging nettles, and how sword ferns could combat their sting.
Birds were not on my radar much at all. I do remember hearing the word "coot" as my parents talked about the rafts of birds out on the lake. I even have a vague recollection of a hummingbird encounter, with the bird dashing within a foot of my face, hovering, and flying away. But it was always back to berries and forts for me.
And maps.
A United States atlas was tucked into a shelf in the living room, and something about maps - very early in life - grabbed my imagination. I know that at one point, I started tracing the path of the Columbia River through the state - even beyond. What really had my interest was the network of tributaries that fed the Big River. It may have puzzled me - at a point where two rivers meet, how do they decide which one gets to keep its name? But the names themselves had my interest, and decided to start writing them down, one by one, as I traced each little tributary back to its source through the hills and valleys.
And I have no idea what would have been passing through my parents' heads as they watched me buried in these maps. The expression "just let him cook" had not yet been born, but they did allow it, and maps have always had me. The recurring idea that these are Real Places, especially in light of how... many... places there are... it makes my brain explode without fail. I'm still doing the same thing, but threading multiple maps together - trail maps, maps of bird sightings, vegetation maps. . .
And they did take us places! Whether in-state or by plane, we had some fine family trips through the years. And in the state, having seven kids competing in sports at all kinds of levels led to a thorough exploration of the state over the years! But somehow, the Blue Mountains had been missed.
Just like I missed the turn.
We'd been driving down I-82, south out of Yakima, and I'd flat out missed the turn. For what it's worth, this stretch of 82 is *also* Highway 12. Our intended exit was the one where 12 veers east, away from 82, skirting around the Tri-Cities. I pulled up my gazetteer and saw there was another road heading in the right direction - Highway 395.
Folks... I live in Renton. We have construction sometimes, and we have traffic always. Mom avoids both of these during most of her time in Yakima. Her ideas for the day did NOT include sitting in traffic! But here we were. And I had to look this up right now... Why did Kennewick seem any more congested than Yakima? Yakima has a population just over 90,000. Kennewick is about 10,000 short of that... but the Tri-Cities together? Pasco, Kennewick, and Richland combine for a population of about 200,000! If they were combined, it would be the fourth largest city in the state.
200,000 people situated at the junction of three large rivers - the Yakima joining the Columbia, and the Snake joining the Columbia about ten miles downriver. There are naturally some bridges involved. I think I just counted six in the area while scanning over this map. We were now set to cross the Columbia over the one that had construction slowdowns. :) We got *great* looks at the Blue Bridge, and at downtown Kennewick.
We eventually made it out, and rejoined Highway 12 (I-182) from 395. Over the bridge, into Walla Walla County, and immediately to Hood Park for a driving switcheroo. We also made it a restroom stop at Hood Park. I went first and was asked "Is it half-decent?" I developed the rubric on the spot, considering some of the porta-potties and trailside outhouses I've visited. "Um... 45% decent." Mom disagreed after using the facility, giving it a 25% on her decency scale.
And then it was across the open fields of North Walla Walla County. What fun to get to see some of this landscape through her eyes. We'd discussed some of the scenery earlier as we passed through the Yakima Valley - a couple of the river views are just lovely, and I have a fondness for the patches of sage here and there. It's interesting, because most people I talk to find these areas of sagebrush to be a bit of an eyesore. It's definitely something I can attribute to the birdwatching. I've had mornings in sage habitat that have cemented my love! But here, it was just open country... until some hills appeared in the distance.
"Those...are not the Blue Mountains..." I said, stating the obvious a little, but also stating my ignorance. Another bit of searching brought me to this link - a YouTube video about farming in the Skyrocket Hills. At their request, I am sharing this link! What a fascinating story. As we started into these hills, Mom and I discussed exactly this - out in these steep hills, there were some *clear* decisions made to farm up to a certain point and no further. We imagined tractors tipping over, and the video seems to say "Yes. This happens." It's a dangerous place to be farming - putting lives and machinery at risk.
On the heels of just having finished a chapter for a high school agriculture textbook, I'm well aware that it is as hard as ever for many farmers to make ends meet. Technology is giving them amazing tools to be more efficient with time and materials, but all of those tools come at higher costs.
We snuck into the Skyrockets and marveled at the roads that snuck away from the freeway, in and around the hills. Eventually, we noticed tree-lined river valleys coming closer to the freeway, leading us to Prescott, then Waitsburg. Mom is pretty blue, and the predominantly red signage definitely got her attention. Although she also saw things that resonated with her rural sensibilities. A puddle of kids wrapped up in towels on a warm street corner after running through lawn sprinklers brought a genuine smile to her face. She really can find beauty anywhere.
We slipped into Columbia County and then into Dayton. Although we'd packed sandwiches, she was pretty enamored of the storefronts along Highway 12. We decided to hold onto the sandwiches and went into Locally Nourished for a lunch stop. Could we have seen more of the Blue Mountains, our raison du voyage, if we had not stopped here? Absolutely. Was stopping here the correct choice? Absolutely.
Mom is a people-watcher. I'd add "to a fault", but given access to her people-watching dial, I would never dare dial it back. It was fun to watch her watching this place. She really doesn't miss things. And she is a writer (she's one book up on me... for now!) so her imagination is always active, interpreting the interactions and the expressions around her. It's not anything where I can nail down anything she pointed out or wondered aloud. It was just fun to see her here. Trust me.
And I love her love of a good sandwich. So many sandwiches over the years - from her BLTs to egg salad to hoagies. Whether made or purchased, she has an appreciation for them. The ones at Locally Nourished made the grade.
We checked the All Saints Thrift Shop next door. I'm still on the hunt for a Columbia County mug, and I'm getting a little worried that I may miss out on that if I don't get hunting! For gosh sakes... if the town of Starbuck wanted to make mugs, all problems would be solved!
We finally got out and started towards our next destination - Palouse Falls! Now... Palouse Falls, I had noticed, was just a few miles outside of Columbia County. But I had perhaps not realized how far it was from Dayton. So, we started down the road a little ways before realizing that there simply wasn't time to squeeze this side trip into our day.
We got the car turned around and returned to Dayton. Here I learned just how well I knew the area. Not that well! To be fair, I was used to relying on the GPS (crappy and outdated as it is) in my vehicle, so I had one hand tied behind my back. Add to this, Kendall Skyline Road, the road I intended for us to take into the Blues, is not exactly well-marked. On my map, Eckler Mountain Road is marked, and it leads up to Kendall Skyline Road. This matched my experiences. I'd gone up Eckler to Skyline several times. But there were no signs from 4th Avenue marking Eckler Mountain Road as we left town. At some point, I was certain we'd missed it, and we returned, finding a small road marked "Skyline Road". I took it.
I don't know why, but little stretches of this road looked unfamiliar. I wasn't 100 percent sure that I was on Eckler. Occasionally another road would intersect with us, including signs for the intersecting road, but not for the one we were on. Uncertainty, the end of pavement, and miles of wheat fields around us. . . none of this inspired any confidence on Mom's part, and time was not necessarily on our side.
"Isn't the sky beautiful!"
"I can see skies from Yakima..."
My diversionary tactics immediately disassembled, it was heartening when I finally got a road sign marking our road as Eckler. At this point, we started to get some trees here, some trees there, and we could see a thick line of trees ahead of us. This provided some comfort, especially when we drove into them. Those first miles are a mixed blessing. Yes, being in the trees at least reinforces the impression that we were now "In the Blue Mountains". This phrasing came up many times. "Are we In the Blue Mountains?" "How many miles to the Blue Mountains?" and I was never sure exactly how to answer that! It's not like there's a line drawn, with "IN" and "OUT" on each side of the line... But being in the trees was some comfort.
We also started to see one of the phenomena that I could only describe to others - all the dang butterflies. California Tortoiseshell butterflies had been constant companions during my last trip to the Blues, and they were still around! I could take pictures of some butterflies, but it's no substitute for driving the roads and being amazed at just how many of them had to be in the mountains. I had burst into laughter during some of these butterfly blizzards, and it was more than double the joy to hear my mom bursting into laughter beside me.
We continued to pass the occasional driveway and mountain cabins (with Mom's mind almost certainly creating profiles of the residents), when we finally passed the line that I didn't think existed. Umatilla National Forest. There's a line that can support a good argument that "We are in the Blues now". Shortly after slipping in, we passed a spot with a lovely view. There wasn't the best spot to pull over, so I continued a little farther up the road. We got out... and I got washed by that lovely mountain silence.. one of the many gifts that these trips bring me without fail.
"But the view back there was nicer... maybe we could head back to that last spot?" Mom noted. After a little walking this way, and a little that way, I completely agreed. We turned back and tucked the car into a spot on the side of the road, making sure Mom had enough room to step out.
We got this picture:
And we were promptly circled by some massive bees. You can actually see in the picture - Mom's already making a run for it. But she did choose the right spot, yeah? :) We made a dash for it, got into the car and had a good laugh. I teared up a little at this point.
My Patient Reader... I put these blogs together for a reason. We live in such a beautiful state. From the time I was a little kid looking at maps, I had a hunch that this was the case. And maps are just words, rivers, and contour lines. They don't show people. They don't show you farm boundaries and fences. They don't show you butterflies, political signs, and birds. I get out to these places to see something more than the maps, the pictures, the words. I blog about it because I'm hopeful that it gets you out there too. It gives me some joy when I hear someone has followed any breadcrumbs that I've left. To take Mom there, and to see her experiencing the place firsthand...
Yeah, my heart is pretty full.
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