Tag Archives: Washington

Shoveling Snow Time-Lapse

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I shovel snow for the first time in 16 years.

It snowed last night. Finally.

Yeah, we did have some minor snowfall way back at the end of November or beginning of December, but it wasn’t much. I bought a snow shovel at the local Habitat for Humanity shop for $5 but was better off just sweeping that snow away.

But last night we had the real thing. About four inches of the stuff, slightly wet but otherwise powdery. I saw it in the dark when I woke up and let Penny out. She ran to the edge of the porch, saw the white stuff on the walk and in the yard, and turned tail, running back into the house, obviously afraid. It was 30 minutes later, after she’d finished most of her breakfast and really had to go that she stepped out into it. That’s when I got an idea of how deep it was — she sank in up to her little body and wound up doing her business under the porch.

I walked out, still in my slippers, and stuck a forefinger in the fresh snow on the walkway. My finger was buried before I touched the ground.

At least four inches. Whoa!

I waited eagerly for the sun to rise. I was actually looking forward to using that new shovel.

Those of you in winter wonderlands who have had snow dumped on you all season probably think I’m nuts. I’m not. I grew up in the New York Metro area where the weather was a bit colder in winter than where I am now — and a lot colder than where I lived in Arizona for 15+ years. I didn’t realize how much I missed the snow until I got here, prepped for winter sports, and then waited for the snow to fall.

It didn’t.

Until last night.

Anyway, at about 8 AM, I donned my winter pants and jacket and boots and fashioned my Buff into a balaclava. Then I pulled on my ski gloves and went out to do a chore most people hate: shoveling snow. Of course, I created a time-lapse:

I don’t have to shovel the driveway, which is quite long. The man who owns the house I’m living in right now has arranged for snow plow service if the snow gets too deep. Right now, I don’t think it’s too deep at all — my Jeep has big, gnarly tires that won’t even notice the snow. Besides, temperatures later this week are expected to rise above freezing — heck, it’s already 31°F outside right now — so I don’t expect the snow to linger.

Maybe that’s why I was in such a hurry to get out there and shovel? I didn’t want to miss my opportunity.

Besides, once it starts melting, I suspect it’ll be a lot heavier and harder to move.

Scavenging in a Landing Zone

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Sunflower seeds, right from the source.

The other day, I had a helicopter charter from Wenatchee to Ephrata. My landing zone was a harvested sunflower field.

Parked at the Sunflower LZ
I parked not far from the end of the irrigation pivot for the field.

The ground was rough but frozen hard. I landed with my skids perpendicular to the furrows where the plants had been lined up during the growing season. Thick dried stalks littered the field and, as I came in for my landing, I wondered how many would become airborne and whether they’d cause me any problems. Some did stir while other pieces of the harvested plants got airborne in my downwash as I neared the ground. But there was no danger. I settled down so softly, my passengers even commented on it.

“Smooth,” one of them said as he unbuckled his seatbelt.

My two passengers climbed out as I began the cool down procedure. They walked around the front of the helicopter, well beneath the spinning blades, and met the men they’d come to see alongside the road. I watched them cross the street and disappear down a driveway.

It didn’t take long to cool down the engine. It was 1°C outside. I brought the blades to a stop and climbed out to survey my surroundings and take another look at the ground near my skids. It’s a habit I have on off-airport landings — checking the skids to make sure they’re free of objects or terrain that could cause a dangerous pivot point later when it was time to leave. And, of course, I took a few pictures; I always photograph my landing zones.

That’s when I found out what I’d landed on. From the air, I’d assumed it had been corn. But there were quite a few big, round structures in the field and it didn’t take long to figure out what they were: the seed heads of sunflowers.

The Seed Heads

The Sunflower LZ
This Google satellite view tells the story of a big round field with a draw running through it and a smaller field in the corner where I’d parked.

This part of Washington is farm country. While they mostly grow tree fruit and grapes in the Wenatchee area where I live, out toward Quincy and Ephrata and Moses Lake they grow a lot of row crops. The corner of this huge field had its own little irrigation pivot. I don’t know what they grew in the rest of the field, but this corner had been sunflowers, and lots of them. I could only imagine how beautiful they must have looked in bloom.

Now there were just scattered seed heads lying around. Like any machine-harvested field, some crops are left behind.

I got to thinking about those sunflowers and all the seeds that were embedded in them. Hundreds in each seed head. They obviously didn’t want them. If I grabbed a bunch, pulled the seeds off, and scattered the seeds around my 10 acre lot in Malaga, there’s a good chance I’d get a few sunflowers for very little effort. My bees would be very pleased indeed for the late season pollen and nectar source.

I started gathering seed heads. They were dry but dirty. The stalks on some were quite long. I pulled out my pocket knife and sawed them off.

I’d gathered four of them and had stowed them under one of the back seats when I got a text message from my client.

“You can come in if you want,” it said.

Usually, I sit out at the helicopter and read while I wait for my passengers. But usually, it isn’t 1°C outside. I realized I was cold. I closed up the back seat, put my knife away, grabbed my iPad, and traced their steps across the street and into the lobby of the nursery/packing house they were visiting. After explaining who I was, I settled down on one of the chairs there, took off my coat, and read.

The Seeds

I brought the seed heads home from the airport after our flight and stowed them in a big shoebox in the garage. (Now I know why I saved that box.) I wasn’t sure how wet they were and I didn’t want bugs in the house or mice among the seed heads.

Today, I took them out for a better look. They were quite beautiful in an old, post-harvest kind of way. They were brown — not black, as we’re so accustomed to seeing in snack packaging. I’m not sure if they were brown because of the dirt or because of the type of sunflower.

Sunflower Seed Heads
Seed heads in a shoebox.

Sunflower Seeds
Harvested sunflower seeds beside the largest of the four seed heads I brought home.

I picked one up and, holding it over the box, rubbed it roughly with my thumb. The seeds began to dislodge and fall off into the box. About ten minutes of rubbing cleared them off the three smaller seed heads. I figured I had about 2,000 sunflower seeds. The final seed head would likely add another 1,000 or so.

The plan is to let them dry indoors in the box. When I’m sure they’re good and dry — and I honestly think they already are — I’ll put them in a bag. In February, before I leave for my frost gig, I’ll scatter them all over my property, keeping about 100 or so to manually plant alongside my vegetable garden.

But before I do any of that, I’ll likely soak a few of these to make sure they sprout. After all, there is a chance that they’re hybrids grown for some specific purpose — oil, seeds, etc. — and that the seeds themselves aren’t fertile. I’ll know soon enough.

3,000 free sunflower seeds. Not bad for a bit of scavenging.

Snowshoeing. Finally.

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More like iceshoeing, if you ask me.

When I decided to spend the winter at my new home in Malaga, WA, I decided to embrace the winter. After all, it was the first real winter I would experience since leaving New Jersey for Arizona in 1997. And, from what I could see, the winter was likely to be about the same as the winters I’d experienced back east — perhaps a little milder but with a little more snow. Perfect for winter sports.

Embracing Winter Sports

Back in my New York and New Jersey days, I did some cross-country skiing — although not enough to ever get good at it. I discovered just how rusty and inexperienced I was when I went cross-country skiing up in the Methow Valley for Christmas. I had a great time, but also learned that I certainly need more practice.

Back in my east coast days, I also did some sledding, tobogganing, and ice skating — but very little of all three in my adult years. (I do vividly remember dislocating my shoulder on a Girl Scout skate outing — the troop leaders were convinced I’d broken my collarbone and the X-rays showed nothing because my shoulder had popped itself back into place before they could get me to the hospital.)

But snowshoeing? That was something that people back east just never did. In fact, whenever I conjured up an image of snowshoes, I saw wooden frames similar to the business end of a tennis racket strapped onto someone’s feet. Was that from cartoons or old movies?

When I moved out here, however, everyone was talking about snowshoeing and I soon realized that it was the winter version of hiking. I love to hike — it’s great exercise and a wonderful way to spend time outdoors with friends and my dog. Surely I’d love to go snowshoeing. I put snowshoes on my Christmas wish list and my brother sent them to me — thanks, Norb! I’d already outfitted myself with all the warm winter clothes I’d need to stay cozy while out in the snow.

But what snow? That was the problem.

Where’s the Snow?

This is my first winter in north central Washington state. I was here for a week last January, just to see what it was like. There was about 4-8 inches of snow on the ground, depending on where I was. No fresh snow fell during that time, but it stayed cold enough to keep the snow from melting.

Everyone told me that it usually starts snowing in December here and that it snows periodically through January and into February. They even said that April snowstorms aren’t unusual. Surely snow must be common — after all, there’s a ski resort right outside of town!

Weatherspark Snow
Here’s what Weatherspark has to say about snowfall averages in Wenatchee.

And things did start off promising. It snowed right around the time I moved into the house I’m caring for this winter — December 1 or thereabouts. There was about 2-3 inches on the ground — not quite enough to get the driveway plowed, but enough to see my truck’s tracks in the snow. I even bought a snow shovel, which I used to push the snow off the pathway so I wouldn’t track it in the house.

But that was it. It got warm enough over time to melt all that snow away. Then very cold and warm and cold and not so cold. It was always cold enough for it to snow out — daytime temperatures hovered around 30°F — there simply wasn’t any moisture in the air.

Or, actually, there was. But it came in the form of Wenatchee’s famous winter fog.

Understand that although I do live in Washington, I don’t live anywhere near Seattle or the ocean. This fog is a completely different from what you might expect in a coastal region. It apparently forms when there’s stagnant air — indeed, we’ve been under an air stagnation advisory for nearly two weeks now. That means no wind. None at all. Air quality isn’t affected — the air is crisp and clean. But a layer of clouds forms over the valley and sometimes dips quite low. More than once, the house I’m living in now (elevation 1200 feet) was in those clouds. Another time, it was above them.

Above the Clouds
The view out my window about a month ago. Have I already shared this? I really love this shot!

For some reason, this year we’re getting lots of that fog but none of the usual snow. And it’s not just Wenatchee, which sits at about 600 feet elevation. It’s also Leavenworth, which is the closest cross-country ski and snowshoeing area. There just isn’t any snow.

Showshoeing at the Fish Hatchery

I set up a snowshoeing outing for my favorite local Meetup group, the Wenatchee Social & Outdoor Adventure Group. It was a free outing at the Leavenworth Fish Hatchery, sponsored by Friends of Northwest Hatcheries. It included a 2-hour walk along hatchery trails, guided by naturalists. Snowshoes would be provided.

Of course, I brought my own. I went with my friend Tim — who seems to know everyone everywhere we go. We got there early and Tim wasted no time chatting with one of the guides while I went to check out the salmon fry in huge tanks in their indoor facility. (I could go into a lot of detail about what they do at this hatchery, but I’ll save it for another blog post — probably one after a springtime visit to the trails.) After a while, another four people joined us. Then a second guide arrived and we were ready to go.

Although there was no snow, our guides insisted that we bring and later put on snowshoes. The trouble was the ice — everywhere the snow had melted into pools had turned into patches of ice. Some of them were quite large. All of them were pretty slippery. One of the guides, Janet, said she didn’t want to be calling any ambulances today. Apparently she’d been calling them periodically over the past few weeks.

The three of the four later arrivals — all of whom traveled from Oregon for the weekend, I might add — came without snowshoes. We stopped at a shed along the way and Janet handed them out. Then we got on the trail along Icicle Creek. When the ice began covering too much of the trail to stay off it, we put on our snowshoes and continued on our way.

Maria on Snowshoes
Tim took this picture of me in the snowiest spot we could find.

This was my first time wearing snowshoes. I didn’t have much trouble putting them on over my big Sorrel snow boots once I figured out how the straps worked. Soon I was crunch-crunch-crunching over the ice with my companions. The sound was deafening as the metal spikes at the bottom of the shoes stabbed through the ice, pushed down mercilessly by the weight of person above them. Whenever the guides wanted to tell us about something along the trail, we all had to stop and stand still just to hear them.

But what I liked most about them was that with them on my feet, I wasn’t going to slip one single inch.

We walked for about two hours stopping here and there along the trail. We learned about the various types of fir and other evergreen trees, including the incorrectly named Douglas Fir, which isn’t a fir at all. We saw tiny birds flittering about the trees over head, bear scratches on tree bark, beaver dams, and water-carved ice floes. We learned about various unusual local plants (like horsetail) and how they were originally used by the native people who once inhabited this area. I soon realized that we were on a very large and complex trail system that would be great to explore on foot in the spring, summer, or fall.

I would have taken pictures along the way, but I managed to leave my phone behind in the Jeep. That just gives me an excuse to come back with my Nikon, long lens, and monopod. Apparently the area is a prime site for bird watching, with plenty of viewing blinds along Icicle Creek. A springtime hike with Penny and my camera should be lots of fun, with plenty of photos to share.

We were back at the Visitor Center by 3 PM and heading back to Wenatchee a while later. I was glad to have had the chance to finally give my snowshoes a try. Tim tells me they’re a lot more fun when there’s a nice deep base of snow. Somehow, however, I suspect I’ll have to wait until next year to experience that.

The Hidden Lake Adventure

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A short hike with a twist at the end.

I belong to several Meetup groups in the Wenatchee area, including the Weekly Hikes group — which doesn’t actually do hikes weekly. (As a matter of fact most of the Meetup groups I belong to in the Wenatchee area don’t do anything regularly, but I’m working on that in one group.) Len, a member of the Weekly Hikes group who lives up in the Leavenworth area, suggested a hike up to Hidden Lake, near Lake Wenatchee. I suggested it to my friend, Tim, who joined the group. The three of us did the hike on Saturday.

Tim and I drove up to the Park and Ride at “The Y” (where Route 97 breaks away from Route 2) with our two dogs in my Jeep. When Len arrived to meet us, he suggested going in his truck. I had no problem with that. Not only was it new and comfortable, but it would be a lot quieter than my Jeep. It also gave us the added benefit of getting to know each other before the hike. It would be at least a 30 minute drive to the trailhead. So we loaded our stuff and dogs into the truck and headed to Lake Wenatchee.

It was a nice drive with good conversation, mostly about Meetup groups and activities in the area. We all have one thing in common: we’re divorced and interested in meeting people to do things with — and form new, more intimate relationships. Our ages are pretty close, too, so we’re all on pretty much the same page. It was a pleasure to just chat with interesting people about things that matter to all of us.

One thing we talked about a lot was the snow — or lack of it. This is my first full winter in the Wenatchee area, so I really don’t know what to expect. But most folks have been telling me that there’s usually a lot more snow by this time of year, especially up near Leavenworth and Lake Wenatchee. Although we did pass the Tumwater Campground, which was closed for camping but open for cross-country skiing and we did see some people there on skis, conditions looked pretty bad and very icy.

The Wenatchee River, which we drove along for quite some time, looked great. Lots of water rushing through and around icy patches. It was still pretty cold that day — I don’t think it got above freezing in the shade — but I’m sure there was ice and snow melting in the sunlight somewhere upriver. As Len pointed out, we’re going to be in big trouble if we don’t get more snow on the mountains before spring. Yes, there’s a lot more water in Central Washington than there was in Arizona, but it still mostly comes from snowmelt. We don’t get the kind of rain they get on the coast.

We made the turn off Route 2 toward Lake Wenatchee. We passed by several campgrounds that were closed and full of ice but had very little snow. We followed Cedar Brae Road, which wound up along the south shore of Lake Wenatchee. It was quiet and the glimpses I caught of the lake between the tall pine trees and vacation homes showed smooth, glassy water. The pavement ended and the gravel road that continued into the forest had icy patches. The road got narrower and narrower. Then Len made a left turn down a short drive and parked at the Hidden Lake Trailhead.

Hidden Lake Trailhead
Here’s where the trailhead is in relation to Lake Wenatchee. This Google Maps terrain image even shows the trail that winds up to the lake.

We got out and organized our gear. I was warmly dressed in my new Under Armor ColdGear shirt and leggings with a sweatshirt and water proof shell on top and a pair of Under Armor outer layer pants on bottom. I was also wearing thick wool socks and my new Sorel boots, which I’d only worn briefly once so far. And I had a pair of YakTrax Pros in my daypack, just in case I needed more traction. My Buff, which I’d worn as a neck cover, could be pulled up to make a balaclava — which is exactly what I wound up doing. I had some more clothes in my daypack, along with some snacks and my Nikon camera.

While the guys used the pit toilet, I put Penny’s parka on her. I had her boots in my daypack, but because there was no snow, I didn’t think she’d need them. My daypack had enough free space to put her in there if she got so cold that she needed to be carried.

There was no snow. None at all. It was weird. We were at about 2100 feet elevation and it was winter in the mountains but there was no snow.

There were lots of fallen trees, though. As we began the hike up the trail, Len told us about a hike he’d done earlier in the season on the other side of Lake Wenatchee, on Dirty Face Mountain. There had been some heavy wind and he heard a loud crack sound. A tree about 30 feet away broke in two halfway up and came crashing down near him. He said that it happened almost in slow motion so he didn’t really feel any danger, but it was still scary. The situation was serious enough to warrant an article in the Wenatchee World about the danger, especially after two people were killed when a falling tree fell on their vehicle near Stevens Pass.

Dirty Face Peak
This is the best shot I could get of Dirty Face — there were just too many trees in the way!

The forest was full of huge pines that stretched straight up to the sky. The trail was clear — someone with a chainsaw had been busy cutting away any tree trucks that had blocked it. Although we were totally in the shade, the sun shone brightly on the granite rocks of Dirty Face, across the lake. It dominated the landscape on that side, with just enough snow to make it picture postcard perfect — if I could get a shot of it through the trees.

The trail was icy in places, but not icy enough to put on my YakTrax. Penny and Tim’s dog, Banjo, ran ahead of us on the trail, making occasional forays into the forest on either side of the trail. At one point, Banjo stood stubbornly at the base of a tree, looking up. There was a squirrel up there. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a squirrel out in the winter time.

Hidden Lake was completely covered with thick ice. A big family with kids was standing near the shore. Banjo wasted no time bringing a stick for the kids to throw and they wasted no time throwing it. Banjo didn’t seem the least bit concerned about running on the ice, but Penny stayed clear — at least in the beginning.

Hidden Lake
Hidden Lake was frozen. Although it was a bright, sunny day, it was gray over the lake in the shadows of the mountains to the south. I doubt if the lake ever sees the sun this time of year.

Our group of three gathered at a huge fallen log, where Len set up a camp stove and boiled water for hot cocoa. We talked about camping and laughed about eating things while camping — like instant hot cocoa out of semi-clean cups — that we’d never dream of eating at home. The only thing I had to drink cocoa from was the collapsable water bowl I’d brought along for Penny. I gave it a quick rinse and mixed cocoa in it without a second thought. Later, I rinsed it again and filled it with cold water from my pack for Banjo and Penny.

We spent about an hour there at the lake. The family hiked around, then left back down the trail. A couple carrying a baby came up, walked around briefly, and left.

Gaia GPS Hidden Lake
Here’s what Hidden Lake looked like on Gaia GPS with our track shown. This may have been the first time in my life that I walked across a frozen lake.

All the time we were there, we heard rushing water across the lake but had no idea where the sound was coming from. I had the Gaia GPS app on my phone and had loaded it in advance with topo maps of the area. It showed two streams across the lake, but we couldn’t see either one. There was no trail on the other side; the steep hill came right down to the water’s edge. With lots of footprints already on the lake’s icy surface, we decided to explore. Cautiously, at first, we ventured out onto the ice. It looked to be at least four to six inches thick. Slowly, we made our way across the ice, looking at the huge cracks that ran here and there across its surface. Finally, nearly on the other side, we saw the stream that was making all the noise. It wasn’t very big; it must have been the shape of the land around us that magnified the sound.

We packed up and headed back down the trail a little while later. The hike was pretty much uneventful.

At the truck, however, there was a problem: Len’s keyless entry fob would not work.

At first, we thought it might just have a cold battery. He warmed it up in his pocket and in his hand. No joy. It soon became clear that we’d need to summon help. Len has AAA and hiked down the road a bit to get a better cell phone signal so he could call.

Campfire
Len finally got this fire going. We would have made a better fire pit, but the rocks were frozen to the ground.

Although we weren’t cold — yet — Tim and I tried to start a fire for warmth. There was plenty of wood — why isn’t there this much wood when I go camping? Trouble was, it was all frosty wet. We couldn’t even get pine needles to catch. We tried a few times and pretty much gave up. I discovered along the way that my business cards are apparently fireproof. (Note to self: add waterproof matches and fire starter to emergency kit.)

Len to the rescue! When he got back from making his call, he gave it a try, using some toilet paper he had in a plastic bag in his pack as a starter. The dry paper did the trick. Although the fire got off to a slow start, by the time help arrived 90 minutes later, the fire was burning well enough for Penny and I to sit beside it for warmth.

The tow company guy used an inflatable pouch to open a crack in the window. He then inserted a wire device to grab the door lock and pull it up. (Seriously: when you see how easy it is to break into a vehicle with the right tools, you wonder why you bother to lock it at all.) The alarm sounded immediately, but Len shut it down quickly. A short while later, we were on the road, heading back toward Leavenworth and the Y.

The Three Hikers
We posed for a picture before heading out. Left to right: me, Tim, Len. I’m holding Penny and Banjo is on the ground.

Len dropped us off, thanking us for our patience. It wasn’t a big deal to me. The bad key fob had turned a short hike into a little adventure. My gear kept me warm enough and I had plenty to snack on.

Tim and I got back into my Jeep with the dogs and our gear. We made one stop on the way back to Wenatchee: Country Boys BBQ in Cashmere. Great food!

It had been a nice day out with friends. Funny how I’d been afraid of winter when I first decided to spend the winter here. I’m not afraid anymore. With the right gear and friends to spend time with, it’s all good.

A Christmas Ski Trip, Day 3: Skiing and Wine Tasting

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I finish up my three-day trip with some more skiing and a stop for some wine and lunch at a favorite winery.

(This story has three other parts: Prelude, Day 1, and Day 2.)

I would have slept better if I weren’t so darn sore. In cross-country skiing the day before, I’d used muscles I forgot I had. Overnight, they started complaining about that, leaving me with aches and pains in my upper arms, shoulders, hips, and lower legs.

Three ibuprofen with my morning coffee certainly helped. After letting Penny out to do her business, I breakfasted on the leftover meat plate from the day before, the remains of that 1-pound Honeycrisp apple, and yogurt.

I showered and packed up at a leisurely pace, putting my “street clothes” in my day pack so I could change somewhere before starting the drive home. I layered up in my ski clothes. Penny and I took a little walk around the area. We met up with our downstairs neighbor and his dog, a border collie and chatted for a while. Then I packed up the Jeep, locked the loft cabin, and headed out with Penny.

At Mazama

We took the same route we’d taken the day before to Mazama: Wolf Creek Road. I really liked the quiet drive through the snow-covered forest of tall pines. I felt as if I could have driven along that road all day. The words for the song “Sleigh Ride” kept coming to my mind. It was indeed a “wonderland of snow.” I honestly didn’t realize how much I missed the snow until I got an opportunity to spend so much time in it.

In Mazama, my first stop was the Mazama Store. I’d bought a fleece sweater there two days before and it was too big. Although I’d wanted it for skiing, my trip was nearly over so I figured I’d just return it and get my money back. If they’d been open the day before, I would have exchanged it for a smaller size. Their loss.

Next, I headed back to the Goats Beard Mountain Supplies shop to see if they had any post-Christmas specials. It was a nice shop with lots of winter and climbing gear — nearby Goat Wall is apparently a popular climbing spot in the summer. But as I expected in a small gear shop in a winter tourist destination, no deals were to be had.

Finally, I wandered over to the Mazama Country Inn for breakfast. (I got into the habit of having two breakfasts most mornings when I was dieting back in 2012. It’s pretty easy to do when you wake up as early as I often do.) Eggs over medium, thick bacon cooked to perfection, and a toasted whole wheat English muffin with orange marmalade. What else could I ask for.?

On the way out, I stopped in the ladies room. I realized it would be a perfect place to change my clothes before heading home.

A Little More Skiing

It was close to 11 AM when I drove the Jeep over to the parking area for the easy ski trails I’d practiced at the day before. I wanted to do a few miles just to work on my balance and get my muscles moving again. Because I was able to park in the sun and there were very few people around, I decided to leave Penny behind. She was curled up in her bed, wearing her winter parka. I left the Jeep unlocked; I figured someone would rescue her if there was a problem. I didn’t expect there to be one. It was much warmer that day than it had been the day before. I figured the Jeep would stay at least 40°F in the sun while I was gone.

Map of Easy Trails
These trails are on mostly flat land near the base of Goat Wall in Mazama.

There were two men with a fire going in a portable fire pit at the trailhead. The fire pit was interesting; it had been built on a sled and even had a rope to pull it with. The menu were there to check ski passes, which I wore proudly. (Hell, how often do I get to wear a ski pass?) I put my skis on and took off in the freshly groomed tracks.

I did a little better without Penny on my back. I realize that the main challenge is feeling the edges of my skis and using them to push off better. Bending my knees more will likely help. I signed up for a three-session cross-country ski class at the local college in Wenatchee for January; I’m sure I’ll get much better after that. It’s a matter of building muscle memory, confidence, and balance. Two trips to Leavenworth with a group and instructor in January should give me plenty of practice.

Ski Trails at Mazama
The easy trails go alongside a snow-covered farm field and offer spectacular views of the north Cascade Mountains. Click here to see a panorama of this spot.

I did about 2-1/2 miles in an hour. Not bad. I can still hike faster.

Back at the Jeep, I let Penny out. She ran around a little while I chatted with the guys at the fire pit and stowed my skis. Then we headed back to the Mazama Country Inn, where I changed my clothes for the drive back. A while later, we were on Route 20, heading back down the Methow Valley toward home.

The Drive Home, with Wine

The drive back down the valley wasn’t nearly as pleasant as the drive up two days before had been. It might have been the weather — it was mostly gray all the way. Or it could have been the fact that there were other cars on the road and they kicked up just enough melted ice and snow to keep my windshield wipers and washer fluid working overtime all the way.

I stopped in Twisp for fuel and to visit the bakery my friend had recommended. It was closed. Feeling like I wanted a snack, I went back into the health food store there and bought some lemon bars. Very rich. I got an eggnog latte — likely the last one of the season — from a drive-thru coffee shop on my way out of town.

It was clearer but still overcast when I reached the Columbia River. At least I could see the hills and mountains around me. The whole place had been socked in on my way north two days before.

By the time I got to Chelan, I was ready for lunch. I decided to stop at Tsillan Cellars Winery. In the summer, I take people there for wine tasting and lunch or dinner. But because I fly them in by helicopter, I can’t drink. Now I was driving. Why not have a wine tasting and follow that up with lunch at Sorrento’s? It would finally give me a chance to see what I’d been missing.

My Burger
It was a great lunch, but I could only eat half of it.

I left Penny in the Jeep and went inside. There was only one other person at the long bar and she kept wandering from the bar to a table near the fireplace in the big tasting room. I had the wine server all to myself. I tasted five red wines and would up buying three bottles. Then I headed over to the restaurant, which had just a few tables occupied. I ordered a blue cheese burger and wound up taking half of it to go. Those lemon bars had spoiled my appetite.

I let Penny out again — poor thing was getting too much downtime, although she didn’t seem to mind — before we headed out on the last leg of our trip.

The weather cleared as we reached Route 97A after the tunnel and followed the Columbia River toward Wenatchee. The afternoon sun shined on the hillsides across the river while thin wisps of cloud drifted by. This is the foggy season in North Central Washington, with temperatures and dewpoints nearly matched almost every day. That afternoon was relatively clear, though and it made for a very pleasant final hour of driving.

River View
The afternoon sunlight really made the hillsides along the Columbia River glow.

I didn’t make any other stops on the way home. I pulled into the garage just as the sun was setting. Penny seemed very happy to be back on her home turf.

It had been a great little trip!