kandas-adventures

Day Trip to Vendovi Island

One of the charities that we give an annual donation to is the San Juan Preservation Trust, which creates conservation easements and purchases land in the increasingly populated San Juan Islands, nestled between the United States and Canada.  Recently they bought an entire Island, saving it from logging, housing developments, and commercial use.  The trust will make it open to the public for limited recreation (mostly hiking and bird watching) on weekends during the summer months.

You can see it on the nautical map above.  Vendovi Island.  The trust had to take out a bridge loan to buy it from the family who owned it.  The loan needs to be paid back within a short time, so the trust is having fund drives and events to raise money to pay off the loan.  One of the events was a chartered boat trip to the island (it can only be reached by small boats, no ferries or planes).

The boat ride was about an hour, and we had around 40 nature-loving friends to talk to on the way.  For a time, the girls and I sat at the bow and talked with this man who pointed out all the different birds he saw, and showed us more information about them from his bird guide.

It was an unusually beautiful day for April, mid-60's, patchy clouds, calm waters, just a light breeze.

Double Crested Cormorants, the one on top drying its wings.

Little K was excited to spot things, including harbor porpoises and seals.  A was engrossed in the Judy Bloom classic, "Are You There God, it's me, Margaret," recently picked up at a thrift store.  I was so happy to see her actually reading that I suppressed the urge to tell her to put the book down and enjoy the view instead.  A struggles a bit with reading, so I didn't want to interrupt her. 

We're getting closer!  The yellow blob on the lower right is where we are headed.

Pulling in to the only dock on the island.  The modular house is where the former owners would have family retreats.  It will now house the Island's caretaker.

The boat we arrived on, the MV Light Keeper.  In front of it is a smaller private boat that another family used to join us.

After a brief introduction to the island's history, we were split into groups based on hiking speed and ability, and set out to explore with a guide from the trust.  There were a lot of sensitive vegetation areas, so we were told to step carefully at times.

Carpets of wild lillies along side the trail.  Try not to step on any!

There was excellent signage at all trail crossings.  The former owners used to rip through the woods on ATVs, but many of the trails have been closed off and will be encouraged to return to the wild.  There are Eagle's nests and areas of rare and sensitive vegetation to be protected.  Because it is an island free of deer and rabbits, some of the native plants are much taller and fuller than you'd see on other islands and the mainland.  What was normally only seen as a low-growing shrub, was a waist-high bush.

As we emerge from the forest onto a rocky bluff we are greeted by a new assortment of lichens, ferns, and wildflowers.

The view is breathtaking!

We pause for half an hour to eat lunch, and hear more history of the island from our guide.  Some snap photos, others consult lists of flora and fauna.

The Indian Paintbrush (orange) is just coming into bloom.

K and A tiptoe to their own little spot to enjoy the view.  My fear of heights and falling down the steep hillside has me firmly planted back on the trail, and utilizing my zoom lens for these shots.

The girls enjoy the sandwiches, apple slices, and cheese I packed from home.

What a great place for a picnic!

Back through the lillies into the forest....

The previous owner of the Island was buried here, but he stipulated that if the Island was ever sold out of the family, his body was to be removed.  He probably never envisioned a land trust purchasing the island, and was probably concerned about having a house built on top of him.  Last summer he was exhumed and transfered elsewhere, but I can't imagine going anywhere more peaceful than this.  The cemetary was edged in brick and generously sized, as if to hold future generations.  Four dog graves are off to the side, but their bodies remain.  I wonder how many Native American remains are on the island as well.

Soon it was time to leave, and we were back on the boat.  Leaving the harbor, we lost a fender and had to reverse course to retrieve it.  "Don't reach for it Little K!"

Fender back on board, we returned to Anacortes.

Initially the waters were still calm, but as we got closer the wind picked up.

It was a lovely day trip and a great taste of the summer to come.  Vendovi Island is definitely a treasure worth protecting, and I hope the San Juan Preservation Trust is able to raise the funds they need to ensure it remains free of development.

If you would like to read more about Venovi Island or make a donation to the San Juan Preservation trust, you can read more here.

Camp Season 2010 begins part 2 of 2

 
We love our State Parks, and especially the volunteer-run "Junior Ranger" program. 
We partook of a couple sessions on this trip, which included cooking over a fire, plant identification, native birds, and "all about clams."  Judy and Larry, volunteers who spend all summer educating children about the outdoors, lead the troops.  What lovely people they were!

  

Identifying Salal in flower, and talking about how the Native Americans used the berries. 

 
Inspecting a specimen.  

Finding Bracken Ferns that are 7 feet tall! 

 
Larry talks all about clams.  In the old days you could count on being able to dig up some clams for dinner on the beach when you went camping, but now red tide (paralytic shellfish poisoning) is in effect most of the summer.  

Judy introduces the kids to native birds, using stuffed ones with birdsong recordings inside.  

After completing a questionnaire, and making a pledge, the girls are sworn in as "Junior Rangers." 

 
A very exciting moment for both girls, and one that neither felt "too old" for.  I count my blessings every day that the girls remain young at heart and greet the world with such enthusiasm.

 
On our last evening on the Island (for this visit, anyway) we had dinner at Lopez Island Farm.  We were invited to a pig roast, and thought the girls would have a great time.  They did, until they saw the pig on the roasting spit.  After seeing the pig, they both retreated to the car with upset stomachs.  Little K was especially shaken. 

On the right is Bruce, the owner of the farm.  He is the one who hays our field, and we like to buy meat from him, because we know he treats his animals very humanely.  Although I don't usually eat pork, I knew that this pig had a happy life on this farm.  A skilled butcher comes to the farm to do the slaughtering, so the animals don't have to endure transport to a slaughterhouse.  They're frolicking in the field until just moments before they meet a swift end.  If you're going to eat meat, this really is the best way, I believe.  

Looking at this little woolly, it's hard to imagine it will likely end up on a grill or in an oven, but it is true.  

Neighbors arrived to make this pig's death worthwhile -- it would feed a crowd, and be appreciated. 

 
Pot luck in the barn!  

What a delicious meal, served on china, no less!  Most of the dishes were home-made, and that hunk of bread was baked in a woodfired oven and arrived at the buffet still warm!  

The carving went on for quite some time, so I took plates of food to the girls.  I was sorry the girls were missing the party, but I understood their squeamishness.  I would have been throwing up and passing out if I had seen this when I was their age.  

Beyond the people you can see the sheep in the distance.  An hour after dinner began, the pig is still being carved.  

Some guests warm up on their fiddles in the barn.  We kept waiting for them to come out and play for everyone, but they were having trouble harmonizing and spent a good half hour hiding in this stall.

 
Eventually people started leaving, many by bicycle.  Soon it was time for us to leave as well.  Above, you can see Little K saying goodbye to the piglets.

 
Down at the ferry dock the boat was anchored on a layover and doing drills with inflatables in the water.  
The dock worker was sitting in her lawn chair reading the paper.  She has 2 to 4 hours between boats, so she uses her spare time to plant little gardens at the tiny terminal (so small it has no bathroom, just an outhouse up the hill). 

 
We admire the flower baskets she's placed on every post on the dock. 

 
Soon it's time to get on the boat.   Since it is Saturday night, not many people are leaving the Island.  The next night this boat would likely be full of weekenders heading home -- that's why I wanted to leave on a Saturday, so we wouldn't have to wait 4 hours because we couldn't get on a full boat! 

 
Farewell dear Lopez Island! 
Time for a round of Rummikub to pass the time on the boat (about an hour). 
There are also several puzzles left out on table for whoever wants to work on them.  Daddy rests up for the long drive home. 
Back to the car... boat's pulling into the dock. 
Good-bye!

More photos from Camping

I think I'm finally recovered from our camping trip.  Not ready to go camping again, but no longer having nightmares from that harrowing hour in the dark of night when the lightning was hitting all around us, and the earth was rumbling below us from the booming thunder, and we lay in a puddle in the center of the tent and we really thought that we would die if hit.

Of course the week wasn't all that bad.  Just mostly.  Here are photos of the more happy moments:

Dinner at the beach (before we were driven away in a hurry by approaching lightning and rain).  Sausages roasted over the fire, parboiled (at home) broccoflower served cold with sliced bell peppers and ranch dip, and corn tortilla chips with tomato salsa.  Next up, roasted marshmallows and s'mores (gulped down as we ran for the car).

Peeking in the back window of the bakery...
The pastries are expensive: 4 or 5 dollars each, but so very worth it at 7am after a wet night in the tent.
Despite the persistent rain, we did quite a bit of hiking.  Thank goodness I packed boots and rain jackets.  The forecast for the week was 70's and sunshine, but I've learned that you never can trust the weatherman.

We did a little geocaching.  I'd gone online before our trip and mapped out about a dozen caches for us to find.  We don't own a GPS unit (I'd rather spend money on camera accessories), but  sometimes we are able to borrow one.

We visited a couple of farms.  Horse Drawn Farms and Lopez Island Farm are two favorites of ours.  Here the girls peruse the produce in the cooler at Horse Drawn Farms.  Don't you love the suggestive "YUM" painted above the cooler?

A has selected a beautiful orange cauliflower.  Many farms have unattended shops, with a cashbox simply sitting on the table and the honor system for payment.
And you can't visit the farm and not give the mangy old barn cats some loving.  The orange tabby is a polydactyl (extra toes) bobtail (stubby short or absent tail).  I remember in the 1970's when I was a child visiting this Island, there was a preponderance of these cats.  I see their genes remain strong in the Lopez Island feral cat gene pool, as we saw several cats on different farms with no tails and extra toes.
Over at Lopez Island Farm A gets greeted enthusiastically by a young goat.  I think he was after her yummy looking hair.
The next day it warmed up enough for the girls to go into the water.  The water remained a chilly 43 degrees, but the air temperature (nearly 70), made it tolerable for little adventurers.   While at the beach the girls befriended a little girl who is spending the summer on a sailboat with her grandparents.  Also, I ran into a woman that I'd attended elementary school with and hadn't seen since 3rd grade!!!  She was there with her parents (who were the ones who recognized me after all these years), and her husband and 4 children.  She now lives in Dubai, but comes back to the Pacific Northwest once a year so her children can drink in the lush green nature she so misses.  I can't imagine living where she does, being indoors all the time, surrounded by desert and 110 degree weather.  Maybe I like the rain after all.  Just not INSIDE my tent and accompanied by lightning.

Bald eagles were everywhere.  It was fun to watch them swoop down from the trees and catch fish.  They were harassed constantly by black crows, no matter where they perched. 
We had a long wait for the fireworks show.  Since we were so far North, it didn't start until 10:30, and even then it was hardly dark enough.  For the first time, both girls managed to stay awake for the show.  We paid for that the next day!

The fireworks are lit off over the bay, in which about 100 brave boaters are tied up.  I was happy to be on firm land.
The next morning we woke to rain, AGAIN, so we packed up and were in line for the ferry at 8:00am.  We were the last car on!   Usually you have to wait hours for a ferry, as there are only a few ferries per day, and there is a quota on how many cars each run will take.   We were really lucky!  And yes, A is wearing a down parka.  Believe me, it was necessary.
Typical ferry boat scene:  the girls fighting over a card game while daddy is lost in a book.  Here K is pulling A's hair, accusing her of cheating again.   In a moment A will toss down her cards, K will be in tears about never winning, and I'll be excusing myself to the bathroom in hopes daddy will take a turn dealing with them.  Instead, little whiners accompany me to the ladies' room because they suddenly have to "go" again. (They really just like the sandy powdered hand soap and the cloth towels on a roll).

Farewell, Lopez!  I'm not sure when I'll be back, but certainly before the summer is over, since we left the tent set up for the season. 

Small Town Fourth

There's nothing quite like a small town parade on the 4th of July.  The fire chief leads the parade with a wave and a smile.
Lopez Island (year-round population just over 2,000) is home to several wildly different groups of people.  There are the old farmers, many of whom were born on the Island in the 1920's and 1930's, and have tended the land their whole lives. 
They've witnessed a lot of change in their years, some of it they just don't approve of, but the Island is a place of tolerance where "live and let live" rules the day.
Many old timers have had to move off Island so they have ready access to medical care, but there are a few holdouts who wish to die on the same soil where they were born, and they are caring for each other as best they can, and trying to inspire the younger folks to pitch in and be helpful.
Then there's the red-neck element.  Sometimes related to the old farmers, but more often coming from the mainland to be "left alone," they aren't really interested in community.  They drive their beater cars and quads and jacked up pick ups and curse the tourists who invade every summer.
Then there are the Hippies.  Many came during the 60's and 70's, buying acreage and creating communes of tipis and tents and old travel trailers.  I spent time with my dad on one of the communes in the late 70's when I was around 10 years old, and I was shocked at the little kids running nude and all the families gathering each evening for a communal meal of food from the community garden.
They've been a persistent voice for cycling, organics, alternative energy, and peace.  Their ideals are finally coming into vogue, and even some old farmers are now converting to electric cars and solar panels.
This year's parade featured many signs for independence from oil.
The fun thing about a small town parade is that anyone can participate.  This boy is simply pushing a decorated shopping cart.
Everyone has something to day.
The library hopes you'll patronize their fund raising book sale.
Some people on parade floats threw candy.  This guy threw straw!
Then there are the scumbag teenagers who decided to squirt water at onlookers.  One truckload of teens was hurling entire buckets of water on the crowd, and one teen was callous enough to target a little toddler, making her cry in terror.  I was ready to run from the crowd and strangle the teen, but I restrained myself since I was holding my expensive camera.  Two truckloads of teens representing Young Life, a Christian teen organization, were particularly rude about tossing water and laughing as little kids cried.  What a great example of Christianity they were displaying!
Overall it was a fascinating cross section of rural America.

Camping on Lopez Island 2007

We just got back from a few days camping on Lopez Island.  Here are a few shots that capture some of the fun we had.  Sorry for the watermark, but as my readership goes up, so does the photo stealing, I'm afraid.  Enjoy...

Aboard the car ferry

The 50 minute sailing is a perfect time to catch up on some reading.

The dock at Lopez Island

I'm on Island time now!

Wait, what's this old thing?  Why is there this strange big telephone in a glass box?  Is it real?  Why would anyone use it?  Can't they just use their cell phone, Mommy?

The girls like to play frisbee in our big hay field while mom and dad work around camp.

But heading toward the beach is what it's all about.

The crabs were waiting

The starfish were ready, also, although this one wasn't happy about being flipped over for closer inspection.  Don't worry, we put him back the way we found him!

There were shells and feathers to be found also!

Driftwood forts on the beach are the best!

We like the old log cabin at the end of the spit at Spencer Spit State Park

We found our first Geocache!

The Island holds many treasures from the past, too.

Seagulls love to perch in a row facing the water, so orient your mobile home wisely unless you want fragrant roof decoration.  This is NOT where we stay... we sleep on the ground in a tent.

Here Little K happily models our rustic bathroom facilities back at camp

Time for dinner... back to the beach to roast sausages

It was a good meal with salty breezes and lots of sea otters and bald eagles to watch.

Oh, but somebody's tired.  The days are long when the neighbor's rooster wakes you before dawn.  All good camping trips must come to an end.  But don't worry, the summer is young, and we'll go again, I promise.