Winthrop

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{Wenatchee. Lincoln Rock State Park. Day Three}

We are eager to be out of the desert. Have I mentioned we're not big desert fans? We break camp around 9:30am, the earliest we'll ever leave a cabin this trip, and head up North 97. We decide to skip a side trip to Lake Chelan in favor of greener landscapes and cooler temperatures. The scenery out the window goes from this . . .


. . . to this . . .

. . . to this in just a few hours. They call the Methow Valley "horse country" and I believe it. What I'm not quite prepared for, though, is how the Valley will charm its way into my heart and make me never want to leave.

We also pass the mighty Columbia River . . .

. . . and the muddy Methow as well. In fact, the Methow River keeps us company the last leg of our drive, weaving under the road several times only to pop out again to the left or the right of the highway. It's swollen with snow melt, but unlike Deception Falls, this river doesn't feel dangerous. In fact, I'd say it's probably pretty friendly when the rage of spring thaw subsides.

When we do finally arrive at Pearrygin Lake State Park, another river of an unexpected kind greets us:

Most of the tent sites and picnic areas are flooded. In what the park ranger calls "a legendary event", a local creek has overrun its banks and left an unbelievable trail of mud, rocks, and debris as it forges new channels to the lake below.

This is the road leading into and out of the park. Driving through it was an adventure!

Lucky for us, the cabins are untouched and still available. But the flood continues to flow, not fifty feet away, and the ranger visits several times throughout our stay to keep an eye on things. But more on that later . . .

We settle in and admire the views from the cabin door.

Pearrygin Lake, with north Cascades in the background.

Lovely, no?

Then we drive down the road to explore Winthrop.

Wooden sidewalks. Three-Fingered Jack's Saloon. Homemade ice cream.

What's not to love?

Pull up a saddle?

Don't mind if I do!

Caleb, too. He's practicing to be a cowboy.

The air is warm, but not hot. The pine trees, dust, and Methow River (which flows through the town) all the give the air a subtley spicy, earthly smell. I love it.

Cute!!!

I dig the whole sexy cowgirl look. It's not my look, but it could be.

Oh yes, it could. :)

Tired and a bit hot, we head back to the cabin to cool off in the lake.


Which turns into a water fight. Of course.


Caleb takes the most hits. But then, he doesn't complain much.

Then we decide to have another look at the muddy flood.

The water isn't deep, but boy it's cold! Caleb walks through it with his water shoes, but Mommy braves it barefoot and Daddy soon follows suit.

We're blown away by the amount of water. And the amount of mud.

This poor picnic table! It never stood a chance!

The gate in the background used to open out onto a path. Now it's a stream. Once again, we find ourselves witnessing the pervasive and relentless power of water. Seems to be a theme on this trip.

We find a spot where the mud has dried. Caleb decides he likes the feel of the dried clay-sand-mud and plops himself down to play.

But Mommy and Daddy prefer the semi-wet stuff.

It's pillowy soft under my feet and smells faintly of wet concrete. It oozes and massages as I rub my toes in it. Ahhhhhh!

Squish!

Squishy squish squish!

Clay and silt, mixed in perfect proportion to create a most delicious mud!

I beg Jason to let me bring some home, but he says no. :)



The sun sets on a happy family. We've gone west together, explored together, played in the mud together.

I call that a good day. And of the four we spend on the Loop, today is by far my favorite.

Steven's Pass, Leavenworth, and Wenatchee

{Day Two. 10:33 am. Driving along Highway 2. Climbing into the mountains.}

Still stinging from the disappointment of not seeing Wallace Falls yesterday, I help Jason keep a sharp eye out for a certain sign along the road.

It comes up so fast, we accidentally miss it the first time. Jason has to pull off on a gravel service road and execute a tight three-point turn to get us back on the highway and over to the little turnout we've been watching for: Deception Falls.

Caleb's been in the car for an hour and he's ready to run. We walk down a little path that meanders through some trees and abruptly spills us out in front of the falls.

My mouth drops open.

This is no elegant sheet of water, falling gracefully down to a quiet pool below.

This is an angry, violent river, riled and provoked by snowmelt from the mountains. White water crashes down with unbelievable speed, exploding with awesome force against the riverbank, the rocks, and itself. An icy spray spirals upward, misting us and making us wish for our jackets. An odd thought after the heat of the foothills.

And the roar! Conversation is impossible. There is nothing but the water. It's all I can see and hear and smell and feel. Its ferocity demands my attention and I stand spellbound, getting wet and cold.

{From the footbridge, looking upstream}

{From the overlook under Hwy. 2, looking downstream to the footbridge}

{Deception Falls}

~~~
Leavenworth is quaint and quiet after the spectacle in the mountains. We eat waffles for lunch in the Waffle Haus and enjoy the town's Bavarian charm as we wander through fudge shops, toy stores, and my personal favorite, the Kris Kringle Christmas Shoppe.

Accordian music drifts from the gazebo in the town square, which is perfectly framed against the Cascades like a scene from Sound of Music.

Jason and I agree this would be a fun anniversary spot to come back to, and after a quick trip to the Bavarian-styled Starbucks, we head out for Wenatchee and our second camp site.

~~~
Wenatchee. Brown, hot, dusty Wenatchee.

{Pinecones in the Park}

We don't arrive at Lincoln Rock State Park until mid-afternoon, by which time I'm cranky from the heat. In the 80s, at least. And as dry as the desert I grew up in.

Still, the cabin has an air conditioner and a separate sleeping room, so life isn't all bad.

And we share our camp site with this cute little critter. (At least, we do until Caleb discovers his hole and proceeds to dump every rock he can find down it. :( Poor little rodent. I hope he has insurance.)

We had planned to swim in Lake Entiat, right by the cabin, but the water is so frigid, we have to rethink our plan. Caleb cools off instead at the water pipe nearby.

We make popcorn after dinner and Caleb falls asleep between us on the futon while we watch Psych. Later, I stargaze and watch cars drive along the far side of the lake. The smell and feel of the air remind me of my childhood home in the desert, and East County San Diego, which we left for the rich green of the Pacific Northwest. Only it isn't green here. In spite of the lake and the Wenatchee River flowing nearby, the land itself is very dry.

I enjoy the cool, dry air and it's comforting familiarity. But Jason and I are not fans of the deserty landscape, nor the heat. Come morning, we're anxious to be off for higher altitudes and greener pastures.

From the Island to the Foothills

So. We're home. Four days. 440 miles. We're a tired but happy bunch of adventurers tonight as we empty the car and begin the arduous task of unpacking. :)

We had such an incredible time, friends. Really and truly. The family time alone was precious. Never mind all the beautiful places and interesting sites we saw, too. I am literally dancing in my chair wanting to show you guys. What do you say? May I show you around the Cascade Loop?

~~~

Day One: Oak Harbor to Wallace Falls (1 hr. 50 min.)

First things first. The cabin. We camped in cabins this trip and let me just say, they were divine. Amazing. And so much less work than a tent. Have a look:


The outside. No set up work. Just unpack the car and you're good to go.











The inside: No air mattress that goes flat in the middle of the night. No rain that soaks everything you hold dear. Just a cozy little space that boasts electricity and heat. And windows. With curtains. I loved the curtains. Caleb loved the bunkbed and immediately staked out the top bunk for his own.

We were hooked after just one night. I'm not sure we'll ever go back to tents after this. We dun bin spoiled. :) But enough about the awesomeness of cabins. Let's move on to hiking.

{On the trail to the falls}

Wallace Falls is a popular hiking spot, we discovered. Loads of people made for a crowded parking lot and a crowded trail. But hike we did.

{The Wallace River, brisk and brimming with snow melt}

The temperature was somewhere between "Very Warm" and "Hey, It's Hot!" on Saturday. But after a quarter mile in the open sunshine, the trail dropped down into the trees to follow the Wallace River.

Every so often, the wind blew across the river and sent refreshingly cold air up into our faces.

Alas, we did not make it to the falls. A combination of a lack of drinking water and misreading the trail map kept us from our goal. No worries, though. We have waterfalls yet to see, and we won't be disappointed (stay tuned!).



















On the trail back to the cabin, we caught glimpses of the mountains we would be crossing the next day.

Gorgeous and alluring and mysterious. Couldn't wait to see them.

Back at the cabin. Time for a little R & R. Reading Firebird by Kathy Tyers.

Then time for dinner. Cheeseburgers, watermelon, and chips. The new camp stove worked really well. Sure made meals much easier than camp fire cooking.


Then lights out. Caleb slept in his top bunk while Jason and I watched "Psych" on the lap top. Who says technology has no place in the great outdoors?

Overall, we think very highly of Wallace Falls and give it a strong thumbs up. We would like to go back, either as a day trip or on another camping excursion. Beautiful spot. Comfy cabin. Plenty to do.

Oh yeah. :)

Stay tuned tomorrow for The Waterfall, the trip over the mountains, and the bavarian Star Bucks we found on the other side!