Trip to ONP: Graves Creek
LAST weekend Mike drove the beastie into the harrowing, washed-out depths of Olympic National Park, where we met up with Jax, JC, Sue, Keith, Aryana & Nemo for a weekend in the woods.
The road had been washed out in several places, and this was the first season in two years it's been open. Our 22' RV was by no means the biggest thing that had passed through, but it was still a bit hairy getting out there.
In no particular order:
The most joyous part was discovering Barry, the camp host, alive and kicking. Last time we saw the old war vet he'd just come back from hospital and Mike & I figured that would be the last time we saw the old rascal. NAY! Two years later he's alive and and up to his usual mischief and stories.
My favorite this time was Barry's tale of the weather station:
Apparently one of the rangers said he wasn't too thrilled about calling the NOAA every morning, as the camp host at Graves Creek had a weather station that was never wrong. Five park managers drove three hours from Port Angeles to check out this wonder of technology. What they found was a rock on a string, hanging from a tripod of sticks with a sign attached:
WEATHER STATION
1. If the Rock is WET: it's raining
2. If the Rock is WHITE: it's Snowing
3. If the Rock is moving: it's Windy
4. If the Rock is hard to see: it's foggy
6. If the Rock is missing: Tornado.
We were told there was mixed fury and ROFL.
Jax and I had a lovely walk in the woods. Sue & Keith were there for half of it, then buggered off onto a side trail for some privacy. I thought Sue & Keith had the right idea, so upon getting back, I grabbed my partner & dragged him off into the woods. We returned five minutes later for bug spray. THAT didn't work very well, either, so finally gave up and retreated to the beastie. Mike observed that outdoor snoo snoo apparently has a season, and July isn't it, though I think location was deifnitely more of an issue in this case. Grr.
I took the kids fishing, though I think we need to start them off in a lass frustrating location, like a lake where you can use real bait and there isn't a current or as much stuff to snag on. I had a bite...I dunno WTF it was, but it ran off with my Marabou jig and 40 feet of line. I had to pull the line back in by hand, but alas, the jig was food, somewhere. Holy crap. 6lb test didn't stand a chance against whatever it was. One of the fishermen I was talking to showed me a photo of a bigass Dolly Varden he'd caught earlier that day.
On the way out of ONP, we stopped at the general store and I picked up a replacement jig. It's a lead ball straight, downy feathers coming off the back, the hook among them. The whole thing is blazing hot pink and this one even had a tiny strand of sparkly ribbon in with the feathers. Salmon LOVE these things.
"THAT is the girliest thing I've ever seen you buy." Says Mike.
Shit, guess it is... I was a little embarrassed. "But there's a damn great deadly HOOK on it! See!"
Saturday I was determined to wash off and at least submerge myself in the Quinault river if not actually swim. It took a whole mess of my of fortitude and ten minutes flapping about on the river bank-before and after- before I did it, but I managed to submerge myself into the freezing water a couple times and scrub off. The girls got in, too, but neither went more than halfway in. I gave the girls a lesson in hypocrisy, explaining at what point they were allowed to call Mike a pansy-I could, but those two had to get in all the way before they could.
As usual we ate like kings. I cooked up a mess of potato glop for everyone. Sue & JC got us breakfasts, and I tried the campfire banana split recipe I'd found online. Yum! Though it wasn't to everyone's liking, ya can't beat it for an easy 5-minute dessert.
Keith & JC were gifted more firewood by Barry, Keith taught one of the kids there how to split the huge cedar rounds maintenance had cut up.
Friday night we had tiny rodent visitors, who get in under the dashboard. Gah. Mice are NOT quiet. Saturday we didn't, due to a cleaning of the beastie and taking the damn trash out.
We'd pulled in at the campground at 6:57 AM on Friday, and had attempted to buy cider and such on the way out there, but they wouldn't sell it to us as it was after 2AM. We made due with half a pint of 151 and some pineapple orange juice. Mike, JC & I passed around the Jar. Good times.
Sue & Mike were both super stressed from the previous week, and gawd knows we all needed the break more than we'd thought. Great, healthy weekend.
Mike & I stopped by Chief's in Olympia on the way home and enjoyed burgers, friends and the Lakefair fireworks.
The road had been washed out in several places, and this was the first season in two years it's been open. Our 22' RV was by no means the biggest thing that had passed through, but it was still a bit hairy getting out there.
In no particular order:
The most joyous part was discovering Barry, the camp host, alive and kicking. Last time we saw the old war vet he'd just come back from hospital and Mike & I figured that would be the last time we saw the old rascal. NAY! Two years later he's alive and and up to his usual mischief and stories.
My favorite this time was Barry's tale of the weather station:
Apparently one of the rangers said he wasn't too thrilled about calling the NOAA every morning, as the camp host at Graves Creek had a weather station that was never wrong. Five park managers drove three hours from Port Angeles to check out this wonder of technology. What they found was a rock on a string, hanging from a tripod of sticks with a sign attached:
WEATHER STATION
1. If the Rock is WET: it's raining
2. If the Rock is WHITE: it's Snowing
3. If the Rock is moving: it's Windy
4. If the Rock is hard to see: it's foggy
6. If the Rock is missing: Tornado.
We were told there was mixed fury and ROFL.
Jax and I had a lovely walk in the woods. Sue & Keith were there for half of it, then buggered off onto a side trail for some privacy. I thought Sue & Keith had the right idea, so upon getting back, I grabbed my partner & dragged him off into the woods. We returned five minutes later for bug spray. THAT didn't work very well, either, so finally gave up and retreated to the beastie. Mike observed that outdoor snoo snoo apparently has a season, and July isn't it, though I think location was deifnitely more of an issue in this case. Grr.
I took the kids fishing, though I think we need to start them off in a lass frustrating location, like a lake where you can use real bait and there isn't a current or as much stuff to snag on. I had a bite...I dunno WTF it was, but it ran off with my Marabou jig and 40 feet of line. I had to pull the line back in by hand, but alas, the jig was food, somewhere. Holy crap. 6lb test didn't stand a chance against whatever it was. One of the fishermen I was talking to showed me a photo of a bigass Dolly Varden he'd caught earlier that day.
On the way out of ONP, we stopped at the general store and I picked up a replacement jig. It's a lead ball straight, downy feathers coming off the back, the hook among them. The whole thing is blazing hot pink and this one even had a tiny strand of sparkly ribbon in with the feathers. Salmon LOVE these things.
"THAT is the girliest thing I've ever seen you buy." Says Mike.
Shit, guess it is... I was a little embarrassed. "But there's a damn great deadly HOOK on it! See!"
Saturday I was determined to wash off and at least submerge myself in the Quinault river if not actually swim. It took a whole mess of my of fortitude and ten minutes flapping about on the river bank-before and after- before I did it, but I managed to submerge myself into the freezing water a couple times and scrub off. The girls got in, too, but neither went more than halfway in. I gave the girls a lesson in hypocrisy, explaining at what point they were allowed to call Mike a pansy-I could, but those two had to get in all the way before they could.
As usual we ate like kings. I cooked up a mess of potato glop for everyone. Sue & JC got us breakfasts, and I tried the campfire banana split recipe I'd found online. Yum! Though it wasn't to everyone's liking, ya can't beat it for an easy 5-minute dessert.
Keith & JC were gifted more firewood by Barry, Keith taught one of the kids there how to split the huge cedar rounds maintenance had cut up.
Friday night we had tiny rodent visitors, who get in under the dashboard. Gah. Mice are NOT quiet. Saturday we didn't, due to a cleaning of the beastie and taking the damn trash out.
We'd pulled in at the campground at 6:57 AM on Friday, and had attempted to buy cider and such on the way out there, but they wouldn't sell it to us as it was after 2AM. We made due with half a pint of 151 and some pineapple orange juice. Mike, JC & I passed around the Jar. Good times.
Sue & Mike were both super stressed from the previous week, and gawd knows we all needed the break more than we'd thought. Great, healthy weekend.
Mike & I stopped by Chief's in Olympia on the way home and enjoyed burgers, friends and the Lakefair fireworks.