A Heart Shaped Tale

This article originally appeared in the Methow Valley News, 14 November 2018

Meet Crick, aka “Fat Daddy”. Tree climber, mouse hunter, pink toed, yellow eyed, black cat with nine lives and a crooked tail that ends in a heart-shaped spiral. A heart shaped tale, if you will.

Crick went missing three years, 250 miles, and three moves ago – and last week he miraculously reunited with his family here in the Methow Valley. I met Crick in Mandy Shoger’s living room. He gazed lovingly at her and purred while she stroked his fur and told as much of his story as she could piece together.

Seventeen years ago, Mandy decided to procure two kittens to keep her older cat, Natalie, company.  She found littermates Crick and Roderigo at a shelter that micro-chipped each adopted animal. The shelter workers named Crick for his crooked spiral shaped tail he was born with. Crick and Roderigo settled in, keeping Natalie company, and the rest of the neighborhood well entertained.

“He’s always been a sweet boy,” Mandy explained, “he went for walks around Ballard with us.” Crick and Roderigo found other ways to enjoy the sights and sounds of Ballard. They periodically climbed a tree and stepped out onto the roof of a neighborhood gym, enjoying the bustling view of the sidewalk below. When they tired of that entertainment, they struggled to get back down. Firefighters from the station across the street extended their tall ladders to the curious cats, recording the rescue and sharing the PR video across media venues. Crick and Roderigo never tired of climbing the tree to enjoy the view from the roof of the gym, and the firefighters seemed to enjoy taking a break out of their day to rescue the cats. “It happened several times,” Mandy said, rolling her eyes. “I was always taking brownies or doughnuts to the fire station.”

After over a decade, Mandy moved from Ballard to Green Lake. Unfortunately, after a few weeks, the landlord decided to sell the first rental Mandy moved into and she had to quickly find another place. Mandy and the cats moved to a less than ideal home. “It was a busy area,” she said, “lots of businesses, a freeway on-ramp, and many parking garages.” Crick decided to take a stroll one morning, and failed to return. Mandy put up fliers all over the neighborhood. For months she walked in every direction, calling his name. She joined multiple facebook groups to ask for help finding Crick. “There were a lot of false hopes,” she recalled, “lots of black cats were found, but none with his distinctive crooked tail.”

A year ago, Mandy moved to the Methow Valley with her husband Nate. “I felt so bad leaving, what if Crick was still out there?” After two years of searching, Mandy accepted that Crick was gone, but still had this feeling he was alive. She dreamt of him often.

Two weeks ago, Mandy received a phone call from Roosevelt Station Vet Care in Seattle. A man named Ed had brought Crick into the office to treat an ear infection. After a routine microchip scan, Ed was surprised to learn the cat, who he had called “Fat Daddy”, had a microchip. He thought Fat Daddy was a stray.

The vet office did a diligent search for Crick’s owner, but immediately came up against a wall. The seventeen-year-old microchip was made long before cell phones, and the company no longer produced the chip. The vet office was able to locate the manufacturer who still had Mandy’s name on record. Luckily, Mandy is a successful artist with a unique last name. The top 40 links in a Google search all yield Mandy’s Foxtail Pottery art and contact information. The top link was to her TwispWorks studio.

Ed agreed to meet Mandy for a reunion with Fat Daddy Crick. The good man bought Crick toys, fed him, provided vet care, and even built Crick a little insulated hut. Mandy was certain that Ed had bonded with Crick and she didn’t want to put extra stress on the cat, but Ed insisted that she take him home. “Are you sure you are ok with me taking him?” she asked. Ed shrugged and in a thick English accent proclaimed Crick loud and annoying. This whole time, Crick was living just nine blocks away from where he first went missing.

On the coffee table in front of the couch where Crick snuggled with Mandy, sat an open box from TabCat. Collar tags and a radio receiver are a more immediate method of keeping track of the cat with a heart-shaped crick at the end of his tail.

Wandering Betties, Cutthroat Lake

For trail information, visit: Washington Trails Association

On a perfect fall day, Cutthroat Lake is a colorful destination of changing larch trees.

Life Cycles of Plants and Languages

This article originally appeared in the Methow Valley News, 10 October 2018

It was an honor to meet Sandra Warrior Pistol Bullet, a student intern at the Methow Valley Interpretive Center. Her story was featured on the front page of the Methow Valley News last week, written by Ashley Ahearn. To celebrate Sandra’s internship, the Methow Valley Interpretive Center and the Methow Native plant nursery hosted a small gathering last week. Her contributions to the community include new cultural exhibits at the MVIC and development of the Cottonwood Trail.

The conversation with Sandra is still churning through my thoughts, days later. A student at Wenatchee Valley College and a member of the Colville Confederated Tribes, Sandra is studying both ecology restoration and language revitalization. Her passion for both fields was clearly articulated as she spoke about reconnecting with her own heritage through her studies of traditional plant use and language revitalization.

As we strolled along the Cottonwood Trail, Sandra talked about her work these past summer months. The breadth of knowledge that people possessed about which unique plants to process and use for building materials, shelf-stable food, and medicine is simply astounding. There were eight different varieties of serviceberry in the Methow Valley alone. Each variety, had to be stored and dried using different methods.

As part of the project, Sandra focused on the Salish names for traditional-use plants. Salish is a group of languages in the Pacific Northwest. There are 23 distinct dialects separated by geographic features, for instance, the Entiat, Chelan, Methow, and Okanogan dialects are all unique forms of Salish. Similar to the Romance languages and the differences between French, Spanish, and Italian.

Languages and plants are closely intertwined. Dialects and species evolve differently from each other based on geographic location. Phonemes can be strung together to build knowledge and heal relationships. Plants can be processed to build a home and nourish a body. Every culture has a tradition of coming together over a meal to exchange words. Languages grow and morph over time and if not tended, die. So, to, plants.

The Cottonwood Trail is located 3.6 miles north of Twisp on the Old Twisp Highway. The 38-acre educational park is part of the Watershed Watchers outdoor education program, and is open to the public. A one-mile loop trail on the Methow River floodplain is a fragrant oasis of birdsong, river views, and changing fall colors. Interpretive signs along the trail describe the area restoration of plants, river-flows, and fish. The community walking path is located on public Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife land. Work parties of volunteers organized by Rob Crandall of Methow Natives plant nursery placed hundreds of native trees and shrubs. The Methow Conservancy helped create interpretive signs along the trail.   

To see the fruits of Sandra’s labor, visit the Methow Valley Interpretive Center and Methow Natives plant garden located on the TwispWorks campus, and take a stroll on the Cottonwood Trail located off the Old Twisp Highway.

I have two important reminders to share: October is cancer awareness month. Remember to schedule your annual exams and cancer screenings. And, October is also a time to stretch your donation dollar. Visit www.givemethow.org to help support nonprofits in our valley, including the Methow Valley Interpretive Center. 100% of your donation directly supports the nonprofits. On “Funday Mondays” donors are entered to win additional funds for their participating nonprofits. All donations are tax-deductible.

Little Red Wagon full of Cheese

This article originally appeared in the Methow Valley News on 26 September 2018

We recently enjoyed a dinner with friends from Singapore. Our friends joked about the common American greeting, “How’s it going?” My friend spoke in amused amazement about the number of people who would walk by him, make eye contact, smile amicably, and say, “How’s it going?” Before our friend could answer, the person would be long gone, never breaking stride – obviously not interested in details. He mused that it was much like a traditional Chinese greeting used by the older generation, “Have you eaten?” This older greeting could have originated when people did not have enough to eat.

For days after our discussion, I mulled over the cultural aspects of both greetings. I’ve been in countries where the simple act of ordering food becomes a lesson in family history, “my mother, rest her soul, learned this recipe from her mother, who learned it from her mother, who stole it from the invaders after crushing their souls. I added cream.”

The discussion of food insecurity affecting a cultural greeting had me remembering, of all things, my little red wagon full of cheese back in the 70s.

Once a month, mom and I would walk downtown pulling my red Radio Flyer wagon. We’d roll that wagon up to the front porch of an old, two story blue house with a wraparound porch and pretty framed windows. Two front rooms were filled with cardboard towers of food. A woman with multiple pens and pencils poking out of her copious bun of hair, would scan a pile of papers on a clipboard before calling out the number of boxes of powdered milk, blocks of butter, and bricks of cheese that we could pile into my wagon. The cheese was wrapped in brown paper and stamped USDA. That government cheese was amazing. It sliced without crumbling and melted smoothly with no oily residue. I’ve often wondered if it was really that good, or if the lens of childhood bliss affected my taste buds.

A recent podcast of Planet Money answered my questions. The cheese was indeed as good as I remembered. In the 1970s, the government tried to increase market demand for milk by purchasing surplus dairy goods that could be stored: butter, dry milk, and cheese. To prevent fraud, the government also hired cheese graders to taste and test the cheese. The result was a processed Grade A government cheese for food banks, schools, and the military that melted smoothly and was a hundred times better than Velveeta.

Another food memory was tagging along with my dad while he worked at the homeless shelter. He’d take his toolbelt and go fix something, while I helped fix something in the kitchen. One of the cooks made colorful candies that she would send home with me, winking, “for your mother.” She thickened a flavored gelatin, and dusted the cooled squares with powdered sugar. It looked and tasted like jell-o gone wrong – I did not care for it and happily passed along the entire bag of candies to my mother. I may not have been a fan of those brightly colored Turkish Delights, but I did enjoy applets and cotlets candy from the store.

The government cheese I grew up on is no longer available, but I found a Turkish delight recipe that looks palatable, with a result similar to applets and cotlets. Mix two quarter-ounce packages unflavored gelatin with a 1/2 cup of applesauce and let stand for 10 minutes. Pour two cups sugar and ¾ cup applesauce into a saucepan and bring to a boil. Stir in the gelatin-applesauce mixture and cook over low heat for 15 minutes, stirring frequently. Add ½ cup finely chopped walnuts and 1 ½ teaspoons vanilla, stirring to mix well. Pour the warm candy concoction into a greased 8” x 8” pan. Let cool at room temperature for at least two hours. When cooled, slice into squares and toss with powdered sugar to coat. To make cotlets, substitute the applesauce for an apricot puree.

Particle Reduction

This article originally appeared in the Methow Valley News on 26 September 2018

Holy Smokes, Batman! Finding clean pockets of air is like jockeying for good seats at a concert. At a concert, if you’re lucky, you can reserve perfect seats with a great view. Otherwise, you and your crew spread out strategically and whistle or howl when the good seats are found and secured. If you’re really lucky, it’s an open- air concert with hillside seating and your grassy knoll neighbors are willing to share their fancy picnic fixings.

To find fresh air in the Methow, you can either drive around aimlessly until serendipitously a patch of blue sky appears, or visit www.purpleair.com to find healthy air. Methow Valley Clean Air Project has placed sensors throughout the valley collecting real time air quality readings. The sensors read particulate matter pollution - PM2.5, the main component of smoke - and upload readings every eighty seconds.

Volunteers from Carlton to Pateros are needed to host sensors that provide a fuller map of air quality for the entire valley. All that is needed is an outlet for power, and a wi-fi connection to upload data. Sensors are mounted outdoors in locations similar to where we breathe air: at or slightly above head level on the side of houses, under an eave to protect the device from weather.

The sensors use laser beams to measure the reflectivity of particles, like dust seen through a sunbeam. The number of particulates in the reflective beam are then counted, uploaded, and displayed on a google map located on the purpleair web page. From the purpleair.com faq page, “local pollution like cigarette smoke, BBQ’s, fireplaces and idling cars can cause spikes in the short term graphs.” Because the low-cost sensors count all particulates of a size similar to wildfire smoke particles, it is important to know that the read outs are sometimes double what the actual smoke levels are. To correct the data, purpleair.com recommends users, “switch the Map Data Layer dialogue box in the lower left hand corner from “None” to “AQ and U”. This will apply a correction factor that will make the readings relate more closely to the official air quality data.”

Sensors are needed at the Lost River Airport, Gunn Ranch trailhead, Gold Creek, Texas Creek, and the town of Methow. If you would like to host a sensor, or donate to the effort, please visit http://www.mvcitizens.org/clean-air-ambassador-program/ or email cleanairambassador@gmail.com for more information.

On another environmental subject: plastic is not as recyclable as we were once led to believe. Turns out plastic goes to China, who recently banned “foreign garbage” stating concerns that countries were including trash with recycle shipments. I’d make a crack about China willing to ‘dish it out’, but not ‘take it’ when it comes to plastic…but I can’t think clearly in all this smoke, so I’ll let a wittier person make the punchline work. Hello, Kitty.

After a conversation months ago with Miles Milliken, operations manager at Methow Recycles, I was inspired to look for ways to simply reduce waste, instead of indulgently, naïvely, recycling recyclables that aren’t recyclable. Taking advantage of the bulk bars at Hanks and Glover Street Market reduces some container waste. Glover Street has a container exchange program, and Hank’s offers brown paper bags for bulk foods.

My hygiene routine is another reduction opportunity. Not doing less of it, but rather less packaging. I found wooden toothbrush handles at Glover St. Market, with replaceable plastic heads. Online, I found toothpowders in recyclable aluminum tins. My favorite is Frau Fowler Tooth Powder with ‘organic essential oils of cinnamon, clove, tea tree, and cardamon’. My mouth feels fantastic after each use. I have yet to find a shampoo bar that doesn’t leave a waxy residue – but when I do, you’ll be the first to know.

A very Methow Mongolia

This article originally appeared in the Methow Valley News on 22 August 2018

Three wild horsewomen would like to share their recent Mongolian experience by bringing their Mongolian guide to the Methow Valley.

Robin Baire, Lorah Super, and Jil Wickander recently completed a two-week guided horseback tour through the UNESCO world heritage sites and national parks of Mongolia. Impressed with the experience, they asked their guide, Dagva Jambatseren, to come to the Methow Valley to share the experience with the community. Dagva enthusiastically accepted the invitation, and is hoping to visit sometime in September or October and give a cultural presentation to people here in the Methow Valley.

Robin learned about the horseback guided tour through a page on Facebook titled, “Wild Women Expeditions:  Orkhon Valley Horseback Adventure – Mongolia.”

“Every one of those words appealed to me,” Robin thought, and she began inquiring if other horse women would like to join. Lorah was the first to pony up. “I read the trip descriptions of riding all day through these sites and then ending the day by soaking in hot springs. I’m a busy mom, hot springs after a day of riding sounded good!” Jil soon joined the trio and the Methow Valley horsewomen planned their early summer expedition.

The trip was for sixteen days in the beginning of June. “It was a short time to be there, but a long time to be away from here,” Robin related. Preparation for the trip included long hours in the garden – as any Methow Valley gardener can empathize during the beginning of garden season.

Their expedition started in Ulannbaatar, the capital of Mongolia in the Tuul River valley. The women toured the National History Museum with their guide, Dagva, who provided knowledgeable insights into the rich history of the region from prehistory to Genghis Khan to the Soviet period. In the evening, the women enjoyed traditional performances including folk dances and singing.

The second day started with a 2-hour ride into Khustai National Park. The park is home to the world’s only wild herd of Przewalski’s horse, an ancient breed that was saved from extinction by the Mongolian horse people.

The next morning the women began their seven-day ride through the Orkhon Valley, a UNESCO world heritage site that reflects thousands of years of nomadic pastoralism, and significant events in human history as the center of the Mongolian Empire. The riders found the scenery to be much like the Methow Valley. They rode along the river through basalt fields and gradually ascended into larch forests full of wild peonies, the full robust blossoms taking everyone’s breath away. Daily, the women rode through large herds of yaks, sheep, goats, and horses, passing by nomadic camps. “It was amazing how calm the animals were,” Robin noted, “and everyone was so friendly. We’d ride around the camps to give them privacy, and people would wave.”

At the end of the first week, the women arrived at the Tovkhon Monastery built into a cliff rising 2312 meters above sea level, affording them a view of the whole Khangai mountain range. The women would visit many monasteries on their trip, home to cultural artifacts hidden away during the Stalinist purges in the late 1930s.  “No photos were allowed inside,” Lorah explained how they drank it all in, taking, “just what you can carry with you,” in memories.

The second week of the expedition was spent exploring Naiman Nuur National Park, followed by the Mini-Gobi. The lakes within Naiman Nuur are accessible only by foot or hoof. Rolling hills, waterfalls, and extensive larch forests led the horsewomen over mountain passes and to quiet mountain lakes.

Evenings were spent with nomadic families, sleeping in Gers (yurts) or teepees. “It felt like ‘glamping’”, Robin exclaimed, noting the luxury level of some of the Gers. The visitors were welcomed with food, warm salted milk, which was, “surprisingly refreshing”, and slices of sweet butter made from yak’s milk.

The travelers found themselves connecting with the guides, finding a commonality in gardening, living off the land, and in their relationships with their horses.

Wanting to share this incredible experience with others, Robin is working to bring Dagva to the Methow Valley to present Mongolia’s rich past and ongoing culture. Dagva is a guide with Horseback Adventure Company, an enterprise that works with nomadic families to give them a source of income. Dagva is very knowledgeable in Mongolia’s history, culture, and natural landscape. Dagva needs assistance with travel expenses. If you would like to help, please email Robin Baire at  3baires@gmail.com.

A love affair with Fennel

This article originally appeared in the Methow Valley News on 8 August 2018

Most of our dinners are planned around what is available this time of year. Last night, our dinner consisted of a roasted vegetable sauce smothered over potatoes and scrambled eggs. A side salad of cucumbers and fresh picked tomatoes still warm from the sun rounded out the meal. The sauce is a favorite of ours, made of eggplant, garlic, onion, and tomato – chopped into rough chunks, tossed with olive oil and salt, and roasted at 400 degrees Fahrenheit for 20 minutes. After roasting, I blend the vegetables in a food processor with more olive oil, basil, and oregano until a hearty sauce emerges. This sauce is great with pasta, or as a dipping sauce for pita chips.

This year, we planted fennel for the first time. I love how the entire fennel bulb bursts out of the soil, the layers looking like a fashionable wrap, the feathery fronds waving in the breeze - like a confident model strutting down the runway. Big hair, don’t care!

Last year around Thanksgiving, I nestled two fennel bulbs in my grocery cart at Hank’s. As I strolled through the aisles, the fennel fronds bounced and waved. Three different people stopped me and motioned to the fennel in my shopping basket, wondering what I planned to do with it. For fennel lovers, the variety of recipes are endless, and we’re always curious to share new ways to enjoy fennel.

Fennel has a fabulous licorice flavor that is excellent in almost every dish – savory or sweet. Roasted with meat and root vegetables, the fennel remains firm to the bite and adds flavor. Paired with cold fruit, the crisp fennel adds a satisfying crunch with a burst of flavor. A bouquet of fennel fronds, chive blossoms, and chamomile flowers in a vase of water fills the kitchen with the smells of summer.

Fennel is an excellent source of dietary fiber, calcium, vitamin c, and is a natural source of estrogen. All of the nutrients in fennel support bone health, boost the immune system, and reduce the risk of heart disease and cancer. Instead of cans of soggy spinach, Popeye could have been popping crunchy stalks of licorice-tasting fennel - reduces waste and keeps you regular!

To make roasted chicken with fennel, you will need boneless chicken thighs, one large fennel bulb with fronds, one large carrot, one large potato, and one onion. Heat oven to 400 degrees Fahrenheit. Chop fennel bulb and stalks, carrot, potato, and onion into equal-sized pieces. Toss vegetables with olive oil, fresh thyme, and Hannah’s Popcorn seasoning. Spread vegetables across bottom of roasting dish, cover with white wine. Coat chicken thighs with olive oil, sprinkle with salt, pepper, and Hannah’s popcorn seasoning (that stuff should be included in your to-go bag during fire season, it makes everything delicious). Layer the chicken on top of the vegetables and roast at 400 degrees Fahrenheit for about 30 minutes. Top with chopped fennel fronds before serving.

To make a fennel and nectarine salad with honey-orange dressing, layer thinly sliced nectarines and fennel bulb. Whisk together a quarter cup of orange juice with a tablespoon of honey until well combined. Pour over the sliced nectarines and fennel. Top with chopped almonds and fennel fronds.

Libby Creek herbalist and author, Rosalee de la Forêt, shares several creative and delicious fennel recipes through Learning Herbs.  Visit https://learningherbs.com, and select the ‘Remedies’ category from the upper right corner of the home page. Enter ‘fennel’ into the search bar. There are a wide range of informational pages on fennel and recipes, like fig and fennel soda bread, fennel and candied ginger, and many more.

If you haven’t tried fresh fennel, give it a taste – you may be pleasantly surprised.

The Heart of Carlton is not the General Store

This article originally appeared in the Methow Valley News on 25 July 2018

Outside the US Post Office in Carlton, Lorraine Wagner deftly snaps an American flag to the flag pole and raises the red, white, and blue until it unfurls in the cool morning breeze.

Old Glory is not the only colorful item swaying in the breeze. The garden bed along the walkway is a colorful collection of blooms. Gone is the patch of overgrown weeds – now replaced by cosmos, marigolds, and snapdragons. In a recent phone call, Carlton resident Elsie Baylor noted the beautification of the grounds and the improvements made by Lorraine and community member Julie Hentrich. “They should get an award, if the post office does something like that!” Lorraine’s manager, Ron at the Twisp post office, said if people would like to recognize the Carlton P.O., they should call him at the Twisp post office.

The bustling Carlton P.O. is manned just 4 hours a day during the week, and one very busy hour on Saturday – not leaving much time for landscape maintenance. A steady stream of people, and one very happy German Shepard, flowed in and out of the post office during the 15 minutes I spent admiring the garden. Wanting to create some curb appeal, Lorraine posted a note requesting green thumb help and the community responded. Julie donated six hours to help clean up the grounds and plant the flower bed. Someone else donated gardening tools. The property owner removed dead trees, Max Judd’s son came and removed the lilac bush that was blocking the stop sign. Someone else – Lorraine does not know who – waters the grounds on the weekend. She gestured towards the flower bed, “Some of these are dying in the heat. I’d love to get some native plants that would do well in this climate.”

As we spoke, the breeze tussled Lorraine’s hair, an abundance of curls and braids artfully arranged and held by a blue headband matching her USPS uniform t-shirt. Lorraine worked at the Redmond post office before transferring to Okanogan County, and appreciated the greater opportunities the rural area offered to work with a variety of people and in different places. She spends the mornings in Carlton, afternoons in the Methow post office, and recently she began working at the Malott post office, too. “I used to work in IT, and there was not a lot of contact with people. I love the postal service, all the people.” She noted that while the process was automated, it is people working together who move the mail from point A to point B in an efficient, timely fashion.

And it’s the community working together to show that the local post office is valued and cared for. Lorraine put her hands on her hips and looked approvingly around the grounds. “When people drive by and see this visual…” she smiled, and after a pause finished her thought, “it’s the people.”

Scatter Lake Trail

This article originally appeared in the Methow Valley News on 11 July 2018

A fun thing I might do again, but not anytime soon, is the 4.5-mile, 4,000-foot climb to Scatter Lake.

First, I need to regain feeling in my quadriceps, gluteals, hamstrings, calves, and foot flexors. The entire group of muscles in each leg feels like a tub of jell-o. Or like that wind sock guy that jerkily jerks over parking lots full of shiny new cars.

Here’s what happened: in a fit of early summer fever, I yearned to hike into a high mountain lake. Something cool and deep, ringed in snow, with the still surface mirroring the surrounding peaks. One morning, I leaned over a topo map spread out over the kitchen counter. The next morning, we were high stepping it to Scatter Lake.

For a visual of the climb to Scatter Lake, check out google maps. Enter “Scatter Creek Trail Twisp”, select “Maps”, and then hover over the drop-down menu on the top left corner and select “Terrain”. If what you see looks very much like a four-mile vertical climb…that’s the one.

My husband, who has the gift of foresight, (i.e. 20+ years of experience with my eyes-bigger-than-my-hiking-ability impediment) suggested that we take a leisurely approach to the trail and turn it into an overnight backpack. It was very pleasant to not feel rushed, and to just enjoy the trail knowing that we had all the time in the world to soak it all in.

The first 1/4 mile begins on the Twisp River Trail, a gentle meander that could be continued if one would like the use of their legs the following day. But, if jelly-legs and high mountain lakes are calling you, take the Scatter Creek trail that branches off towards the right.

The first mile of Scatter Creek Trail is pleasantly wide and appears to follow an old road bed that is over grown and narrowed to a single track. The grade is gradual through a shady forest.

The second mile is loaded with switchbacks, steadily climbing out of the valley. Through breaks in the tree cover, tantalizing views of snow packed ridgelines promise bigger and better views further up the trail.

The third mile laughs in the face of trail engineering and moons the “10% grade” standard of trail design. Switchbacks are swapped out for sloping meadows. Although the map and trail notes state that the trail follows Scatter Creek, the creek is an inaccessible roar below the trail. Be sure to carry enough water to stay hydrated.

While the third mile is steep, the fourth mile is straight up, with sections of loose rock and scree that can be a challenge on the way back down. The trail crosses several small streams, the largest being Scatter Creek.

The fourth mile ends in a beautiful meadow. Scatter Creek Falls rises above the meadow, as does the lake basin and the final half mile push to Scatter Lake. The leg burn is totally worth the stunning views and the peaceful surroundings.

A very special Flag Raising

This article originally appeared in the Methow Valley News on 27 June 2018

Danford ‘Danny’ Miller raised a well-traveled American flag on Memorial Day. After waving in wind currents around the globe, the broad stripes and bright stars came to rest in the Methow Valley. This particular Old Glory is seen as a symbol of what connects us all: life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

A Methow descendent of the First People, Danny was born at the family home that today lies beneath the waters behind Wells Dam.  His aunt Agnes attended his birth as the midwife. His parents, Eva and Henry, shared an orchard with Danny’s uncles, Albert and Jerome, on historical land that had for centuries been cared for by their ancestors.

Danny’s family has a long history of serving their country in different ways. Sam Miller started the first trading post in Wenatchee and was instrumental in developing a sustainable economy in the region that included Native Americans. CB Timentwa was a vocal advocate for fishing and land rights. Roberta Minnis lobbied Congress for equal employment rights and laid the groundwork for the Tribal Employment Rights Office. Randy Lewis helped form the United Indians of All Tribes Foundation, an organization that provides educational, cultural, and social services. Danny, like many men of his generation, was swept into service in the Vietnam War along with his cousin Jay Miller and childhood friend Chuck Borg. Danny served in the Army Special Forces, earning the Green Beret. His cousin Jay flew 235 combat missions in the A-6 Intruder over North Vietnam from the USS Midway. Chuck served as an Airborne Ranger.

Danny was wounded during the infamous battle of Dak To, also known as Hill 875.  He was sent home with the American flag that flew over Kham Duc.

After his recovery, Danny pursued sky diving to find inner peace. “When I’m in the air, everything goes away.” His love of heights was put to good use as a high-rise ironworker. Danny built towering structures in Scotland, China, and across the US. When the final beam rose into place, the builders celebrated by topping off the beam with a U.S. flag and an evergreen tree. Danny unfurled his flag to top off the final construction beams across America, in Los Angeles, San Francisco, Houston, and closer to home at the Deaconess Hospital in Spokane. His flag even flew from the final cross beam of a building I used to work in: Intel-Micron Flash Technologies in Lehi, Utah.

Which brings me to the main reason Danny shares his story: We are all connected.

On Memorial Day the family lifted the flag to its final resting position above the Methow River on family land steeped in history and tradition. His cousin Mark commented on the illumination of the flag at sunrise and again at sunset, and what the flag represents to him as a Methow descendent and a member of the Methow Valley community. “We have been charged to protect and preserve this valley. That flag - it is significant.”

As we sat on a sunny plateau overlooking the bend in the Methow river, the flag waved peacefully below. Danny reminded me why he wanted to talk to me in the first place. “Our family has been bonded to this valley for 10,000 years and it’s been no small effort to keep us here together. But this is not just about me,” he paused and lifted his finger for emphasis, “it is about the whole valley, all the people, this place. People here have done good work preserving this place, making connections, building bridges, educating others. I’m Indian by birth, but I’m an American by choice.”

Letting the Storm Speak for Me

Does anyone else feel a sense of release/relief when it rains? The cleansing smell, the soft pitter pat of raindrops landing on leaves, rocks, and soil? It's been a full week, with different experiences every day. Father's day is on my mind, and I'll be glad to get past that emotional whirlpool. Everything reminds me of him this week, and it's never in a convenient moment to 'have a moment'. I had this thought as the storm clouds rose above the hill in the view from my desk:

My heart is on the verge of bursting
Tears brim the edge of an eye
I need this storm to burst,
Lightening to strike,
And thunder to roar
Because I need to hold it inside
And let Nature release control

Wandering Betties, Rex Derr Trail

For trail information, visit: https://www.plotaroute.com/route/344366

The Rex Derr trail wraps around Pearrygin Lake, and wanders up into the surrounding shrub steppe.

Easy, Savory Ratatouille

After watching the experts on America's Test Kitchen show off their savory version of Ratatouille last night, we decided to give it another try.

I've tried Ratatouille before, and never thought it was anything special. Just some overcooked, soggy, roasted vegetables. But, there's another way! A more delicious endeavor! Let the eggplant be a sauce - it's so obvious, I can't believe I hadn't thought of it myself.

You'll need:
1/3 cup olive oil
2 onions
6 cloves garlic
Herbs de Provence
Red pepper flakes
salt and pepper
1 large eggplant - peeled and cut into chunks
12 roma tomatoes - peeled and seeded
bay leaf
1 large zucchini - cubed
Yellow bell peppers - sliced into large chunks
Mushrooms - cut into large chunks
Fresh parsley and basil

Start off with an oven safe, lidded pot - I used our iron dutch oven. Preheat oven to 400 degrees F.
Pour olive oil into dutch oven and set on stove top at medium heat.
Chop onion into large chunks and place onion and peeled, whole garlic gloves into warm oil. Heat until translucent, for about 10 minutes.

Sprinkle a generous amount of herbs de provence into the pot, along with red pepper flakes to taste. Season with salt and pepper. Stir and simmer for another minute while herbs bloom.

Add by leaf, eggplant, and tomatoes. There is no need to salt or tenderize the eggplant - it will break down during roasting, and we'll mash it into a sauce later. Place the dutch oven, uncovered, into the preheated oven and roast the veggie mixture for 45 minutes. Leaving the lid off will help the liquid evaporate while cooking.

After 45 minutes, remove pot from oven and, using a potato masher, mash vegetables until a thick and chunky sauce forms. Place zucchini, bell peppers,  and mushrooms into pot. Season with more salt and pepper. Return to oven, uncovered for another 25 minutes.

Remove from oven, and place lid on pot. Let sit for 10 minutes while the vegetables finish steaming.
Serve with chopped fresh parsley and basil.

Remembering Pete Joseph

This Memorial Day, May 28, would have been the 94th birthday of Pierre ‘Pete’ Joseph. Pete led an astounding life, a portion of which was portrayed in the 1951 Broadway play and subsequent film, “Stalag 17”. The film is a comedy/thriller about American airmen in a German World War II prisoner of war camp, based on an award-winning play written by two survivors, Donald Bevan and Edmund Trzcinski who were imprisoned at Stalag 17 with Pete. The play and film were the inspiration for the much-loved television series, “Hogan’s Heroes”.

Pete was born to Susan and Ed Joseph at their home near Antoine Creek. He attended Pateros High School with his cousins Mary Marchand Miller and Lewis Miller. Pete lettered in every sport and was known as the fastest runner in Okanogan County. He could be seen running home after sports practices.

In December 1941 the US entered World War II. The experience of a country at war was unlike what it is today. For the entirety of my own life, the US has been actively involved in some conflict around the world…but I wouldn’t know it if I didn’t read the news. I pay low prices for gasoline, and there is no limit to the number of computers, bicycles, shoes, silks, and nylons that I can purchase. When I walk into Hank’s, there is always a wide selection of meat, cheese, butter, milk, jams, and jellies. This was not the case during WWII. Every person in the country was affected by food and fuel rations and nightly blackout efforts.

It was during this time of uncertainty that Pete graduated in 1942 and joined the US Army Air Corps. He completed flight training and aerial gunnery practice before deploying to England as part of the massive buildup of troops for D-Day.  

But before D-Day arrived, Pete’s B-17 bomber was fatally hit on March 8, 1944 over Berlin. From his gunner position in the ball turret, Pete bailed and hurtled through the air with a force so great that his boots were ripped from his feet. After free falling three miles, Pete’s chute deployed. As he drifted in the dark closer to ground, his chute tangled in a tree, and Pete hung thirty feet above ground where he was spotted by German civilians who cut him down and handed him over to the Gestapo.

Pete was held in solitary confinement for days while the Gestapo tried to guess his ancestry: Japanese, Filipino, Chinese, or Mexican? The Native American refused to speak, giving only name, rank, and serial number. He was transported to Luft Stalag 17B, near Krems, Austria. Food was scarce, guards were sadistic, and the overcrowded conditions forced the 30,000 prisoners to sleep three to a bunk.

Over a year after his capture, on April 8, 1945, Pete was gathered up with 4000 other American soldiers in Stalag 17 and forced to march 281 miles to a prison camp near Bernau, Austria.  It took them three weeks of marching to reach the camp site. Just days later, on May 3, 1945, Patton’s 13th Armored Division arrived and captured the guards. Pete and his fellow prisoners were evacuated to France. Many years later as Pete shared a conversation with his friend and fellow Paterosian, Ed Holbrook, he discovered that Ed was one of the troops that liberated the Stalag 17 marchers that day.

Pete was discharged with honors in October 1945.  His outfit, the 379th Bombardment Group, took some of the heaviest losses in the war. Pete was one of the lucky ones who was able to return home. Pete married Lillian Dick, had six children, and worked as a supervisor on the Grand Coulee, Chief Joseph, and Wells Dams. Pete passed away in 1991 and buried with full military honors at St. Mary’s Mission on the Colville Reservation.

This article originally appeared in the Methow Valley News, 23 May 2018, and has been updated to show Ed Holbrook's role in the liberation of Pete Joseph and his fellow Americans from Stalag 17

Hiking Methow Valley - Pipestone Canyon

We have a small window of marvelous color now that the mud has retreated and before dust season settles in. This in-between season, some call it spring, is fleetingly magical. Sunlight illuminates each fold in topography, a dappled green landscape of lustrous light and shadow. Rainstorms fill a maze of hills and valleys before crashing into rocky crags of a high mountain peak. Flowers bloom in different hues and scents: the lupine, balsamroot, indian paintbrush, wild rose, shooting stars, buttercups, blue bells, and a myriad more cover hillsides in swaths of color.

This is the best time to enjoy many lower elevation trails in the valley: before the heat of summer arrives, and rattlesnakes emerge. One such trail is Pipestone Canyon.

Most users access Pipestone Canyon and the Rim Trail near Campbell Lake from the Winthrop side. Unfortunately, Lester Road is filled with water and mud, easily eroded by wheels. I also have unconfirmed reports that the Rim Trail is forming new canyons with the seasonal runoff. Last year I noticed a whole section of the trail gave way to a fresh geological transformation.

A different approach is to hike Pipestone Canyon from the bottom up. To get to the lower trailhead, take Highway 20 towards the Loup. Travel three miles from the WA-153/WA-20 intersection before turning left onto Upper Beaver Creek Road. After 2.5 miles, take another left onto Balky Hill Road. Travel for half a mile and find a closed, unlocked gate on the right side of the road next to a ‘no parking’ sign. Close the gate after driving through. The road is unmaintained and rocky. Travel along this road for another half mile to a wide parking area marked with a Discovery Pass sign.

From the trailhead, you can see two distinct drainages - head towards the one on the right. The trail follows the curvature of a hill on the east side of a grassy meadow with pockets of wetland areas. I think this is one of the more dramatic approaches to Pipestone Canyon, as the steep canyon walls rise like sentries around the bend in the meadow.

It doesn’t take a geologist to see the dramatic storyline embedded in the walls of Pipestone Canyon. But it does take a geologist to decipher and translate the language of stone.

Starting in the summer of 1939, Dr. Julian Barksdale began studying the geography of the Methow Valley. At times, he worked as a cook for a pack-horse outfit to gain transportation into the backcountry. Dr. Barksdale never published his work, stating that the remoteness and ruggedness of the Methow Valley, combined with the complex geology was too “enormous a project” to undertake. Still, his findings were deemed valuable knowledge and in 1975 the DNR published a copy of his work.

The 1975 DNR report includes evidence of temporary periods of lake development, when fossils of plant life were preserved. Using Barksdale observations partnered with 1950s studies of fossilized plant life, the report dated the Pipestone Canyon formation to the Paleocene epoch, 66 to 56 million years ago…while at the same time noting that some formations contained evidence from the Cretaceous period, over 100 million years ago.

Over the years, geologists have studied the area in greater detail and found more samples dating to the late Cretaceous period. Geologists now know that the Pipestone Canyon Formation contains vast amounts of data showing tectonic plate movement, folding, fault lines, and glacial carving. A simple google search of “Pipestone Canyon Formation” yields a multitude of articles describing this geologic drama. Or, simply take a walk and enjoy the view for yourself.

This article originally appeared in the Methow Valley News, 09 May 2018

Hiking Methow Valley - Golden Doe

I love the winter. I love the spring. I’m not a big fan of mud season.

Mud season is a tease with reassuring sunny skies above and treacherous footing below. Either the trails are socked in with mushy snow, or stream crossings are impassable by high water torrents of turbulent runoff.

There are not many options for shoulder season hiking, but the lower valley offers up some hidden gems that are best enjoyed before the heat of summer, and before rattlesnakes become active.

One such gem is the Golden Doe unit of the Methow Wildlife Area. Nestled beneath the McClure scar, in a narrow hanging valley the Golden Doe area is 1,514 acres of shoulder season beauty, complete with mountain views, riparian areas, forested trails, and open meadows.

Starting from the Methow Valley Community Center, set your odometer to zero and head down Twisp Carlton road. The hidden driveway is five miles from the community center, on the right side of the road. The driveway takes a sharp turn to the left and goes uphill to a parking area in front of a haunted cabin. You’ll see what I mean when you get there.

Follow your ears to the sound of Alder creek and find a locked gate with a pedestrian-sized opening. Follow the jeep trail up a gently sloping hill, keeping Alder Creek on your right. The trail turns left and opens into a wide sweeping meadow encircled by small rounded hills. The trail may disappear into the grasses. Look for it to reappear on the hillside to the west. Follow the trail up and over this hill, where it becomes apparent once more along a barbed wire fence.

At a quarter mile, Alder Creek widens into a large wetland area, full of redwing blackbirds. The trail continues up above the wetlands for another quarter mile before it bisects two hillsides to enter the small valley at the base of Mt. McClure. Here, the trail splits. Turn right and travel north for forested hiking and views of McClure. Turn left and travel south for open meadow hiking.

The south bound trail follows the base of the hillside until the hanging valley spills into open farmland. At this point, follow the trail east up and over a small saddle. The trail again disappears into the grasslands as it drops down into a meadow. Two deep craters whisper of glacial lakes long gone. This meadow is typically full of mountain bluebirds in the early spring morning. Walk around the edge of the meadow and stay along the base of the hillside, traveling north for about a mile to intersect once again with the beginning of the trail near Alder Creek.

Golden Doe is part of the larger 31,000-acre Methow Wildlife Area. Beginning in 1941, the USFS began purchasing private parcels in an effort to contain damage done by mule deer on local farmland. The seven parcels form a migration corridor and provide protected habitat for other wildlife, including songbirds and salmon. All seven units are open to the public for wildlife viewing, hunting, fishing, hiking, horseback riding, and cross-country skiing. The seven units are Big Buck, Big Valley, Early Winters, Methow, Rendezvous, Texas Creek, and Golden Doe. For detailed maps of each area, visit Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife https://wdfw.wa.gov/lands/wildlife_areas/methow/

This article originally appeared in the Methow Valley News, 2 May 2018

Rite of Spring

This article appeared in the Methow Valley News on 11 April 2018

I imagine Igor Stravinsky composed his Rite of Spring (La Sacre) during spring, while observing a landscape emerging from winter. Perhaps he listened to a gentle wind blow through the woods – the opening lines of the woodwinds. Flurries of snow grew into dissonant surges of pouring rain as harmonies fractured like ice floes breaking free from the river banks. And then…the rain and wind ebb. The landscape is soft once more, green sprouts push up through decomposed detritus, steadily stretching towards the sun. A walk across a snow filled meadow may have inspired the alternating intervals of an octatonic scale: a half step in a shaded surface still firm beneath his foot, followed by a whole step when he sunk through a patch softened by the sun. Stravinksky must have navigated a muddy sloped path as he scribbled ostinatos across the page, flowing rivulets of snowmelt, seemingly haphazard but all merging eventually towards the siren call of the river. He writes, "I was guided by no system whatever in Le Sacre du printemps. When I think of the other composers of that time … how much more theoretical their music seems than Le Sacre. I had only my ear to help me. I heard and I wrote what I heard. I am the vessel through which Le Sacre passed." 

Listen here: 

Igor Stravinsky - The Rite of Spring (1913) - YouTube

The sunny hills of McFarland Creek Lamb Ranch melt out early in the season, no doubt something the Romney sheep appreciate. Since the 2014 Carlton Complex fire rearranged the landscape, McFarland Creek flows with more strength through the ranchland, creating a steady roar between the house and the barn. Alfred and Callie, Maremma sheepdogs, greet owner Katie Haven at the pasture fence. Freshly shorn sheep lazily lounge about in the spring sun, bags of shaved wool lean against the barn wall. The new barn went up shortly after the old barn went down in 2014. The new barn is filled with natural light, the siding on the top half of the building is clear. “If I don’t shut the door, the sheep will hang out in here all day,” Katie explained – I guess the sheep like the new barn as much as everyone else.

Professional sheep shearer, Martin Dibble, visited the McFarland Creek Lamb Ranch the day before, administering haircuts. You can watch a video of Martin in action on YouTube, entitled “Martin Dibble Shearinga Sheep”, the sheep looks incredibly relaxed and happy, like I do when I’m getting a haircut…or a massage…or on vacation.

Katie used to transfer the wool for processing to her shop on Poorman’s Creek, but in the last year she and partner Bill Tackman built a new multipurpose building on the ranch that includes a big airy space for processing garden produce, a walk in cooler cooled by creek water, a woodshop, an office, and a specialized set up for Katie to wash and dye the wool.

Deep tubs line one wall, with cold and hot water faucets. The hot water is supplied by a tankless on-demand hot water heater. Large glass jars hold dried flowers and roots that Katie uses in her natural dyes. McFarland Creek Lamb Ranch wool is available for sale in all forms: raw, roving, batting, and spun yarn dyed with natural dyes.  Katie’s yarn can be found online at www.thelambranch.com.

Wandering Betties, Raven Ridge

An old logging/mining road along Raven's Ridge between Gold Creek and Libby Creek drainages

Wandering Betties, Dead Horse Lake

For trail information, visit: Washington Trails Association

Wandering Betties, Pipestone Canyon

For trail information, visit: Washington Trails Association

It rained
Someone stepped on a rattlesnake
We all took home ticks

Wandering Betties, Bear Creek

Methow Artifact Research Project

We have great detail about the history of the Methow Valley from 1880 onward, as settlers to this area kept journals, wrote newspaper articles, took photos, and many of their descendants are still living and can provide detailed living memories. We know from oral history and a few archaeological finds that there was a vibrant population in the valley for thousands of years prior to the 1880s, but the story is only in bits and pieces – like an incomplete jigsaw puzzle. The reasons for this incomplete picture are many – but there is an opportunity for some people to help piece the puzzle together through the Methow Artifact Research Project.

Rich Davis, archaeologist with the Methow Valley Interpretive Center(MVIC), is leading the Methow Artifact Research Project. The goal is to create a photographic record of found artifacts to enrich the archaeological record of the Methow Valley and enhance the legacy of the Methow people.

Since the project began a year ago, sixty new items have been shared. Tools including atlatls - a large spear used to hunt big game - date human occupation in the valley to at least 9,000 years ago and earlier. Tools made of obsidian and petrified wood are rare finds in the valley, or anywhere. The location of these pieces, along with comparable findings elsewhere, point to a robust trade route through the valley.

In a letter, Rich postulates a theory based on the available evidence: “There was a long human presence of several thousand years here in the mid-Valley area just after the Ice receded. The Valley appears to have been an extremely early trade route or passage to the Upper Skagit. The lack of available and suitable projectile point toolstone materials may have made projectile points not only a more valuable import, but a more precious commodity, less likely to be wasted.”

The most valuable artifact that will yield the most clues about a human timeline in the valley is a projectile point. There are many scientific methods to date an object, but projectile points are the most telling time capsules, says Rich, “Every period in prehistory had a unique style of projectile point that originated in different geographical areas.” A projectile point can identify a myriad of details about a people including a timeline of use, routes traveled, and available resources.

The artifacts shared to date are in remarkably old and in pristine condition.

As the snow melts and we begin our spring gardening, building, and cleaning, please keep the Methow Artifact Research Project in mind for sharing any found objects. Sharing your stories and family collections will help us piece together the story of lives lived in this beautiful valley, before all information is lost forever. Privacy is guaranteed. Rich only asks for the opportunity to photograph and study the objects. Please contact Rich Davis at 509-449-3796, or the MVIC.

This article appeared in the Methow Valley News, 28 March 2018

Cultural Preservation

On March 25^th the Methow Valley Interpretive Center will host “Drawing with Vision, Harold J. Cundy’s Recordings of Rock Images on the Columbia Plateau 1927-1936” with historian William Layman and guests Randy Lewis and Arnold Cleveland. The presentation and discussion will show documented rock art found throughout the region.

Hank Adams, Randy Lewis, and Vine DeLoria

I had recently discovered the book, “Custer Died for Your Sins” by Vine Deloria. Randy sent me a photo of himself with the author, Vine, and activist Hank Adams at the March 1968 Right to be Indian conference at Western Washington University in Bellingham. A chapter of Vine’s book, entitled, “Anthropologists and Other Friends”, had been printed in Playboy magazine the month before, raising awareness of American Indians in contemporary society. The book hit the New York Times best seller list a month later.

Randy sent me two other photos, of recent letters from school children notifying him of plans to replicate his likeness in a downtown Seattle mural. They read, “We learned about activists and change at school and learned about how you helped in the Ft. Lawton takeover in the 1970s. We wanted to honor you by painting your portrait on a mural that will be installed at a bus shelter at Yesler Way and 29^th street in the central district. Thank you for helping our community.”

In 1970, Fort Lawton was declared a ‘surplus’ military base and became available for use as public land. The United Indians of All Tribes, UIAT, wished to reclaim the historical grounds for use as a cultural and social service center for American Indians. The state and city rejected the proposal. On March 8, 1970, a hundred people scaled the cliffs of Fort Lawton and staged a sit-in. The demonstration, led by Bernie Whitebear of the Colville Reservation, lasted for three weeks and made national news. The peaceful protest raised awareness of challenges faced by American Indians including poverty, education, and unemployment. The city negotiated with UIAT and set aside twenty-acres for the Daybreak Star Indian Cultural Center, located in the heart of Discovery Park. Fort Lawton military grounds became Discovery Park, Seattle’s largest park along the shores of Puget Sound. The park stretches over 500 acres, with nearly 12 miles of languid trails traversing forest, shoreline, grasslands, and landscaped gardens.

An interview with Randy talking about the protest can be viewed online here: http://q13fox.com/2018/04/05/when-native-americans-invaded-fort-lawton/

Randy, like so many others in his generation, worked tirelessly to raise awareness about every facet of human rights. Young people today are tackling issues on the national front yet again and taking to the streets this month to raise awareness about the simple human right of receiving an education uninterrupted by domestic terrorism. The future belongs to our youth, they deserve our support and efforts to find a solution.

Randy Lewis, circa 1977, at the Methow headwaters in traditional Methow regalia

This original article appeared in the Methow Valley News, 14 March 2018

La Mer as La Mere

Water is one of the many things I like to think about.
71% of the Earth's surface is covered by water. 73% of the human heart and brain is water.
Ocean currents move people, weather, animals from one shore to the other, river currents flush out debris and transport goods between ports.
Blood currents deliver oxygen to muscles and flush toxins from the body.
While still in the womb, mere weeks from taking our first breath of air, we take practice breaths under water - inside our mothers. Water forms tears of joy, and of sorrow.

While interviewing director Derrick LaMere for the upcoming screening of his film, United by Water, all of these themes came to mind as he talked about the importance of 'bringing the people back to the water' - in acts of conservation of resources, preservation of culture, and reconciliation of human relationships.

His other films also are about people returning to the water to reconnect with their environment, their roots, their human-ess.

"Your name is very powerful," I said, thinking of the French translation of La Mer, The Sea

"It is, the water is, in many ways, our mother," he said - referring to the French translation of his actual name, La Mere, The Mother

And then he told me of his grandmother, and his great grandmother.

And now I'm thinking of Water in terms of Mother

How, when I was a child, I would dive deep to the bottom of the pool and try to stay there, marveling at the feeling in my ears of hearing the blood rush with each heart beat, and the muffled shouts above of splashing kids in the pool . I'd pop up for air and look at my mother sitting on the bleachers beneath an umbrella - holding my baby brother. Is this what he heard while he was inside of her?

Even now, on days when the world is too much with us, I'll slip into a warm bath and slide under the water, with just my nose above the surface. Listening to the inner sounds of my body carrying on: the beat of my heart, the inhalation of breath into my lungs, and the muffled drip, drip of the faucet, and all is right with the world again.

All You Need is a Toothbrush and Clean Underpants

Everyone has a holiday travel story filled with unfortunate events. Here’s another one for the books…

I don’t normally check a bag, but this year I decided to take advantage of the convenient option of checked bags – roomier suitcase, space for gifts, and all the liquids a woman desires - including a bottle of rum. We planned to take a flight from Wenatchee to Seattle, enjoy a leisurely dinner and a restful night’s sleep before our flight to Britain the next day. These plans were futile, beginning with the checked bag.

After landing in Seattle, we strolled to baggage claim with the other passengers to wait for bags that never arrived. While my husband walked the length of the airport baggage area searching for our bag, I stood in a long line at customer service. Apparently, all the bags where lost. All I wanted was dinner, a cup of tea, my liquids, and my comfortable pajamas from my checked bag. It was not to be. We gave up and turned in for the night…sans liquids and comfy pjs.

In the morning we lumbered down to baggage claim, and there was our bag, sitting all alone in a vast empty line of silent luggage carousels. I opened the zipper just enough to verify that this was indeed my bag - and upon seeing my socks and underwear, promptly zipped it shut without fully examining ALL the contents. We grabbed the bag and rushed upstairs to check it in before joining the security line before our flight to Chicago, which was delayed.

The flight from Chicago to Manchester was also delayed, and there was a scene at customs. The customs agent simply was having one of those days (or lifetimes) where he gained immense satisfaction from being an asshole. We watched as numerous families were loudly belittled for "wasting his time and everyone else's" for imagined slights and sent to the end of the ridiculously long line of over a hundred weary passengers and crying children. When our turn arrived, the only available agent was this power-wielding sack of flesh. We also were immediately shunned, yelled at, and sent to the end of the line for showing disrespect, when we had not been able to get in a single word to answer the belligerent rapid fire questions of "and how would I be treated if I were to travel to your country?! You are wasting my time. END OF THE LINE!" Making our way back through the maze of line forming poles and rope we were intercepted by another agent who took us back to the front of the line and hand delivered us to a different agent - they passed knowing looks and we sensed that the agent who was having a no-good-rotten-horrible-day was a regular occurrence.

With all the delayed flights and customs drama we missed the prime 10 a.m. train to Edinburgh, but managed to score tickets for the noon train. There was a bit of confusion before boarding the train, as our tickets did not match the train cars or seats. We stopped a uniformed man to ask which car we should board and were informed these tickets were for the metro train across town, not this train right in front of us, ready to leave the station. Being the calm, rational, people that we are, we tossed our luggage on the theoretically wrong train and jumped aboard. Long story short, the uniformed individual happened to be new on the job and gave us directions that would have most certainly ruined Christmas. The other passengers were very helpful in explaining the ticket and seating process.

We arrived in Edinburgh, the hilly capital of Scotland. Cobblestone streets and Harry-Potter-esque architecture make up the section known as Old Town, lined with baked potato delis and shops offering highland wool and Celtic jewelry. I opened my bag and rummaged around for the rum. It was gone. Of course it was gone. When a bag goes missing in an airport for 12 hours, so does the rum.

On the return trip, I ditched all the liquids and opted to carry on my bag instead of checking it. That was a “stable genius” move on my part because everything that could possibly go wrong in the history of air travel went wrong.

Perhaps that sentiment is overblown. We did not die, there was no water landing, and the air sickness bag was not required. However, the pilot came over the intercom and said, "Folks, this plane is smaller than the one we would normally use for a transatlantic flight and the fuel tank is not big enough to get us all the way to Chicago. We're going to stop in Bangor, Maine for a refuel." As we approached Bangor, Maine, the pilot made yet another announcement, "Folks, Bangor Maine is too windy for a safe landing, so we are going to try to make it to Boston for a refuel."

Never fly American. Who uses the wrong plane??

All this wrong plane business resulted in an unexpected overnight stay in Chicago, as everyone missed their connections. Representatives met passengers at the gate and had dinner and hotel vouchers, and tickets for rebooked flights. American Airlines rebooked us on an Alaskan Airline flight to Seattle the next morning. This time I had my comfy pajamas in my unchecked bag, so staying overnight in Chicago was not that inconvenient. The next morning we arrived at the gate and were on standby for seat assignments. After all the passengers boarded, and just before the plane door was shut, we were assigned seats. As they scanned my newly issued ticket, the ticket agent said, "I'm sorry, American didn't complete the purchase on this ticket - You'll have to go to gate K7 and have them issue you a purchased ticket." I ran to K7 and was told, "We aren't ticket agents." I ran back to N9 (yeah, a different terminal!) and they let me on the plane anyway, sans ticket.

My advice for sane holiday travel? Forget the checked bag. Just take a backpack with a toothbrush, clean underpants, and comfy pajamas. Be prepared to enjoy the ‘scenic’ extra-long way home.