Wednesday, October 12, 2011

THE GARDEN GATE

The fresh air was lovely.  My town was lovely.
I was getting into the "Visit my Village" ramble!
And I discovered this front gate,
which was too lovely to post just one view.
I had to linger.  I hardly took more than 3 steps in any direction to capture
the romantic mood of this enticing entrance.
Secret Garden, anyone?

 Summer flowers are dying, but that seems to add to the charm of the weathered gate:



 No macro lens, but I wanted to remember the myriad of
clematis seed pods smothering the arch of the gate:

Sunday, October 9, 2011

LAST CHANCE RAMBLE

Recently we had an unexpectedly "open" Saturday, free from a usual weekly committment. Also unexpected was the blue-sky, warm sunny day sandwiched between strings of rainy ones.
It was our only opportunity to drive the "North Cascades Highway" which we had
been hoping to do.
From our place in the west, over Snoqualmie Pass, and other passes, we drove the "loop".

First stop was in the Wenatchee valley apple orchard area.
Local orchards vie for the most eye-catching displays to lure one into the fruit stands:


We preferred to just stop alongside the road to photograph the real thing.
How ancient this one looks:

Methow Valley is along the route; the most eastern part of the "loop".
The little town of Methow may not even have a post office of its own, it is so small, but what does that matter when there are charmers like this:

 Winthrop might be the half-way place; it is the only place  for a respite.
Because of its location, it is partly a tourist town, but it evolved casually from its genuince historical roots rather than be a contrived destination.  Thus, the original buildings are indeed still the real thing.


Winthrop saloon has the distinction of being the oldest remaining one in the state.
The town was established in the mid-1800s, mostly from mining, but today it stays alive from dairy and lumber interests, plus cross-country skiing for tourists in the winter.




Our main goal was to see the magnificent North Cascade Mountains.  Washington Pass is north of Winthrop, on the way back west.
To my disappointment, I had forgotten I had left the polarizer lens on my camera from a previous outing.  Put that together with the fact that we were headed west late in the day, and the pictures I took were not at all with the right settings!

Another shock and disappointment was that we had never seen so little snow there.  Yes, this was the end of September, but this had been a heavy-snow winter, and this pass is always the first one to close and the last one to open, due to heavy snows.
We were almost embarrassed for the nakedness of these slopes!
Is there still snow under that sawdusty talus covering?

Mountains backlit from a setting sun; polarizer lens (by accident), left me with just silhouettes of the peaks, but perhaps some of these shapes display why the North Cascades are called "The Alps of America".


We know that next time we will begin the loop drive north, then east so that we see the mountains in the light of the eastern sun.
This view was on the north side of the highway, so there was a tad more light:

Nature's Totem Pole:
 An extremely long waterfall:
 Same waterfall, closer by degrees:


 And Ross Lake into which it empties:

Thursday, August 25, 2011

ALASKA - WHAT A RUSH!

When we went north to Alaska a couple of weeks ago, it was for gold of a
different sort than the historic kind.
It was our 50th - Golden -  wedding anniversary.  We always wanted to see Alaska, so in preparation to celebrate, we planned "our kind" of trip.  It was to be the whole month of August.  We had tickets for Alaska's Marine Highway: the sleek ferry, and routes to remote places all mapped out, with breathing room for being flexible; just us and our SUV.
Family schedules and events changed all that.  We joyfully celebrated those things, and opted for getting to Alaska "anyway" via a cruise ship with the time we had left.  The "herd mentality" we call it, is not our way of doing things, but eventually we got excited.
Our port was home: Seattle!
Our cabin was one of these, on level 9, with a balcony to starboard:

Fair weather and good-bye to our fair city:


After "moving in", I looked for unusual photo ops as we got acquainted with our vessel:




My favorite peak, Mt. Shuksan, from a new perspective:

First night out.  A very good omen!


Two hours later than moon-rise, and that much further north, it was still
this light.
Low-lying fog settled in a phenomenal fashion:

(There are 4 more blog entries following this, of our Alaska trip)

KETCHIKAN

Maybe the residents of coastal towns paint their buildings so outrageously colorful because
nature's palette is grey with rain nearly every day of the year.





We scurried to an historic place immediately after disembarking, avoiding the main street tourist shops.
This is Creek Street, the infamous district where "women of negotiable affections" had their places (over 37 of them at one time), practically stacked one on top of the other:



 Creek street window:

The real adventure from Ketchikan was our little bush plane outing to a remote inlet several islands away from Ketchikan with the hopes of spotting bear at a fishing place.
But how could our pilot spot anything, I wondered, when I tried to look over shoulders, through the soggy, foggy windshield:

Because of engine noise, we couldn't talk, but I saw by Dick's charades that he was trying
to find out how I was doing and whether I had motion sickness.
I couldn't have put my 2 thumbs up any faster!
 It was exhilarating from the rushing skim across the water, to take-off, to flying high and higher!

Forty-five minutes later we put down in a secluded inlet and were picked up by our guide for a
short drive through the woods to a trailhead:
We hiked to a lovely river and small waterfalls, and - yes- bears, fishing!




In spite of salmon a-plenty, this one looks disgruntled,
for good reason: he couldn't catch anything:





This big guy almost looks like a beloved dog posing for a portrait.
Our guide's silent hand signals and a glance at his side-arms of pistol and Bowie knife
warned otherwise:
 

Our float plane coming to pick us up: