August 26th:
Out of Spokane westbound I-90 in the horrible haze of the burning Pacific Northwest, across the channeled scablands that Bretz theorized, to the Columbia River crossing at Vantage. Overlooking and looking north up the gorge, the smoke stings blurring vision further. A dark green therefore military blackhawk thumps up the valley, doppler effects as it passes, and disappears before its sound is silence.
Arrived late at Maryhill State Park.
August 27th:
An incredibly disruptive surreal sleep requires an early morning decamp with retreat from the “Trucks, Trains and Mutant Babies” to the higher hallowed ground of the war memorial. After a short sleep near the shadows of the Stonehenge simulacrum, a second decamp.
The March opening was the most recent admission at the Maryhill Museum of Art, now, two seasons later, a revisit to Rodin. Here, on the grounds, the southwest breeze has just a faint hint of smoke. The Golden Era, not being antisemitic, meets and greets new friends.
Out of Washington and west along then briefly into the Columbia River.
Into Hood River to alpaca farms and finally, Punchbowl Falls.
In Mt. Hood National Forest , → Mt. Hood, intermittently visible, appears dusty brown. Gone is the rising mist from the white snow exposed of the northeast face, gone are trickles that sneak through the forest to cross trails and gone is the spring fresh smell, now replaced by the scent of fire. Yellowjackets in force boldly hover around any food source, landing on unattended plates. These are nasty pests whose loath existence is part of a personal jihad.
August 28th:
hammock hanging, awakening with/to the sound of forest insects and then from outstretched hand, share snacks with gray jays.
Out of Mt National Forest → fruit stop at Packers Orchard and Bakery whose bakery products, if sold in liquid form, would be injected by fruit addicts.
WAAAM again where a personal affection is exposed, and over exposed among the ground and air antiquities.
Pine Street Bakery gnosh with Jingle Punks Hipster Orchestra in the background.
Out of Oregon and into Washington to Bingen (The name of the town is pronounced/ˈbɪndʒən/(bin-jen), despite the fact that its German namesake is pronounced/ˈbɪŋən/(bing-en))1
Into the Gifford Pinchot and to the (appropriate this time) Forlorn Lakes. The thirst lake’s mud lined shores suggest a pluvial shortage but, then, a light rain begins and falls into the night. Wolves cry in/to the northeast.
August 29th:
A wet morning brings questions: “Were those wolves?”, “Why is the tire flat?” and “Where are all the tools?”.
A spare tire flat leads to a new friend and an increasing fondness for the area. Day long project to repair and refit vehicle.
Wet leaves bow to an enigmatic cross in the woods near Smoky Creek Campground and the rain drenches the forest forming puddles that mirror conifers. Sleep listening for wolves.
August 30th:
A variable rain of light, downpour, tears, stops, starts and abates by mid morning. Indian Heaven Wilderness Trailhead #108 at Cultus Creek switchbacks trending upward 2 miles, passing a falls then leveling into meadows, ponds and lakes.
Off that trail, off to East Crater Trail #48 that easily wanders through Indian Heaven hemlocks to Junction Lake where it meets the Pacific Crest Trail. Ahead deer follow the trail anxiously looking back then, finally disappearing into the forest.
Post hike drive past Goose Lake, along the north side of a large lava field to camp at the south trailhead of the Pacific Crest Trail into the Indian Heaven. No wolves.
August 31st:
Back and on the road with westbound highway 14 to 205 to I-5 North → Ike Kinswa State Park.
Spiders as big as hermit crabs in the showers that will only take tokens available at the entrance office. Resolution that this will be the last Washington State Park used as a stay.
September 1st:
East through Glenoma (grows on you), Randle and Packwood, then 123 north Mt. Rainier National Park to Cayuse Pass junction with 410.
The search for ghosts finds Fairfax Bridge.
An attempt to access the Chester-Morse Lake area leads to a conversation with PUD official who, under monitoring cameras, states that access is extremely protected by homeland security. He mentions
Guantanamo, and his demeanor is enough to readjust destination to Tinkham.
September 2nd:
Rain during the night but a clearing day into Seattle with rendezvous Pike Place Market. Friends and a fast gnosh then gone from these pending faults east for the Inland Northwest, which is home.