The Backpacking Chronicles: 3

posted by Melissa

The Ciderhouse Rules!
Our main agenda of being camped near Winthrop was to get to the Methow Valley Ciderhouse.  Amy had been telling me about it for awhile now and she really wanted me to check it out in preparation for our beer and wine making month. (October)  The ciderhouse didn't open until the afternoon and we really had to get in a hike, you know, for the blog.

Satisfaction (I can't get no.)
We found a hike around Patterson Lake near a resort, Sun Mountain Lodge.  As we drove up the steep windy road, I was still wishing we could have been staying in one of the cabins around the lake.  I guess this lame hike listening to the joyful shouts of kids paddling across the lake would have to suffice as my lap of luxury for the weekend.  I say it was lame because, although I dreaded another hike like the one up the mountain, this was more like a 4.5 mile mall walk.  There was no physical challenge to it at all.  Can I never be satisfied?

It was pretty, but after the views from my exposure therapy, it was a bit dull.  Like a kid playing 3D video games all day long, give him a old-school Atari Pong game and sure, he'd likely play but would soon be bored.

Patterson Lake

As soon as the hike was over, we all had no problem quickly making the next choice of our trip.  "To the Ciderhouse!"

Salmon Love

There were only a few people present when we arrived, but it looked like there would be music starting soon.  We ordered our hard cider and sat around under the tent answering Trivial Pursuit questions.  Did you know that the deadliest animal in Africa is the crocodile?

Then the music began.  Ken, a fish and wildlife biologist, started his set and invited Jamie up to play along.  Ken apparently loves what he does for a career, so much so that his music consists of biologically accurate lyrics about many of the subjects he studies.  It was unexpected.

I was already giddy from the cider, and when Ken started hooting like an owl during his song about endangered species, the giggles commenced.  Amy and I were like 12 year old school girls, and I can't remember the last time I laughed so much or so deeply.  I wish I had a video of Amy acting out the part of Billy Chinook's salmon lover.  It wasn't that Ken was funny, I mean, he was funny, in a good way (check out his song about salmon love).  But there was just something in the air that afternoon.  Maybe it was the remnants of all my mountain anxiety finally exploding out of me.

"Ha.  Really?  You don't snort?  Too bad for you."

Snorters

Another Cider house patron looked over before he left and asked, "Which one of you is the snorter?"

"We both are." Amy and I answered in union, laughing and possibly snorting some more.

"Why?" I inquired, "Are you also a snorter?"

He looked down at us, raised one of his eyebrows and dropped the other in disdain, "Uh...no." he said, appalled that I had even asked.

Diablo Lake

Serendipity
Jamie (or Jared as he was called at the Ciderhouse) and Ken played Country Roads by John Denver.  I went to West Virginia University, and so this song has a very special place in my heart.  I sang along, a sentimental tear just behind all the snorting.

I share this because it was one of the many, many serendipitous occurrences of the weekend.  We left the cider and headed to the Old Schoolhouse Brewery in Winthrop.  As soon as we sat down at our table, guess what song came on?  Yep.  Country Roads!  It was like that all weekend long, one thing after another, reminding me that I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

Sayonara

After one more night under the stars, and perhaps one UFO, we packed up camp and headed west.  Jamie and Bob did a big hike up near the Early Winter Spires.  Amy and I opted for a shorter hike at the Lone Fir campground, our hike started out paved.  I was satisfied, and a little scared.  We left our bear bells in the van and once the pavement ended, the trail became very "bear-y."  We survived.

back home

We also had a blog meeting at the Mazama Store, checked out the Washington Pass overlook and read some poetry along the trail.

All four of us jumped in Diablo Lake on the way home, it was cold and refreshing.  And left me with the memory of how spontaneous the weekend turned out to be.  How perfectly, without conflict, the weekend laid itself before us to follow its lead.

-Melissa

State Map and The Open Road

By Amy Baranski

Ponderosa Pine. Photo by Bob Redmond. 

Diving into a cold lake, drying off in the sun, camping by the river on a bed of pine needles, stoking a campfire into the night, watching the stars flicker and the occasional unidentified flying object sail across the sky--these are what summer nights in the Northwest are made of!

With no plan, no place to sleep, stomachs full of Bavarian sausage, and gas still in the tank we pointed the minivan toward Chelan.

Lake Chelan is deep with memories--it's a lake my sister once jumped into from a 50 foot cliff off the banks of Refrigerator Harbor. It's a lake we sailed on almost every summer to reach Holden Village, an old mining town in the heart of the Cascades. By the time we visited, the mine had  been acquired by Wes Prieb and donated to the Lutheran Bible Institute, and the village was restored and converted into a retreat center.

I remember as a child thinking how beautiful Washington State is and knowing that I'd live here someday.

The dust was incredible on the Eightmile trail. It caked every piece of exposed skin, and somehow managed to cover Melissa's feet, making it's way through her wool socks and new hiking boots. Jumping in the lake was the perfect rinse. We joined the families lounging by the beautifully blue water, and cooled down. The sun was moving closer to the horizon but we weren't satisfied with any camping options in Chelan, so we headed to Winthrop--where we thought we could find a free spot along the river.

Last summer Bob and I spent a beautiful weekend camping in Winthrop with our pals Jessie and Aaron. It's a place I've been wanting to go back to ever since.

Winthrop. Photo by Bob Redmond.

When we reached Twisp we saw a campground sign. It didn't say how many miles to the camp so we drove about 12. We turned around thinking we had passed it. There was a site at mile 16 and one at the end of the road. Oh well. We picked up some bottles of wine from the convenient store and headed into Winthrop.

Winthrop is an adorable town. A bit touristy yest, but in an Eastern Washington kind of way. I'd like to live there. Melissa and Jamie were smitten.

We checked out Pearrgyin Lake, which looked like a fun campground, but again too full with the sorts of campers that bring televisions into the woods. Not that I wouldn't camp there. I would TOTALLY camp there, and yes, with my television.

Fortunately up the road we found a campsite that seemed similar to the one Bob and I stayed at last year. Around sundown the next day we'd find out it was the same one.

Once our tents were pitched we built a fire cracked open the wine and talked into the night--you know those kinds of meandering fire pit talks.

In the morning Jamie dipped into the river. I think Melissa and I followed suit. We warmed ourselves up with instant coffee and packed a few things decided to head out for a nearby day hike. Just because our backpacking trip turned out to be only one day didn't mean we'd given up on the hiking portion of the month!

To be continued....