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rebeccmeisterIt smells like ripe blackberries everywhere in Seattle. Everyone is out and about, picking blackberries in their favorite blackberry-picking spots. Apples and apricots and plums are ripe, too.
My father and I rode from our house out to Enumclaw yesterday.![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sytharin and her boyfriend came into town for a quick weekend visit, and with the two of them, there were too many of us to all fit in the family car. Besides, the new bicycle deserved a decent test ride. We rode over to the Duwamish River Trail in West Seattle, and took it out to the Green River Trail, which eventually connects to the Interurban Trail, which took us all the way out to Auburn. In Auburn, we discovered that our favorite coffeeshop was closed, so my dad had a quick sandwich at a grocery store and then we headed through the Green River Valley.
Lots of people were hanging out in the Green River Valley. It's summer, so most were out tubing in the river. When we reached the final river crossing before heading up the big hill (11% grade) onto the Enumclaw Plateau, we came upon an old wooden chair, sitting in the middle of the bridge. That made for a nice spot to pause. While we looked out at the river and the people tubing and splashing along, I remarked to my father that ifscrottie had been along with us, he probably would have stopped to go swimming at least five times by that point. Then both of us realized that a swim sounded quite refreshing. It was a rather warm afternoon. So first I headed down to the river and waded in, sandals and socks and all. Then my father headed down, stripped down to just his bike shorts, and belly-flopped in the water (it was shallow, so that was the best way to get completely wet).
Refreshing, yes. Refreshed, we tackled the hill. The last time I went up that hill, I was hauling a bunch of gear on my mom's old touring bike, and I couldn't get the bike to shift into low gears, so I eventually had to get off and walk up. On the new bike, I flew right up. The feel of the new bike is interesting - it has some of the same feel of quickness as Spud, my old road bike, but I can tell I'm not on aluminum/carbon fiber but am riding steel, instead. I love the bar end shifters, as my friend R could have predicted. It feels amazing to ride a bike where the cockpit is adjusted right for me - no shoulder tension, and minimal hand/wrist fatigue. It's easy to ride in the drops. This is a big deal for me. This is a bike I could ride at least 100-200 miles, and I will have to ride that far to see how much further I could go.
In Enumclaw, we got in a brief visit with my aunt C and uncle F. Sytharin and L picked all of the blueberries that had been ripening for a week or two on my grandpa's blueberry bushes. They tasted amazing - nothing at all like store-bought blueberries. We also got in two rapid-fire games of cribbage with my grandpa, with my team winning both times. Then we headed back to the house for strawberry-rhubarb pie (made by yours truly, and I dare say it came out deliciously) and sleep.
The next morning, after a quick breakfast, we wedged ourselves into the car to head over to Mt. Rainier for a visit to Sunrise. The trip made me wistful for last summer's bike ride up to the top, but there just wasn't enough time, this time around, so I had to content myself with at least the visit to the top. When the five of us piled out at a rest stop (it was my parents, Sytharin, L, and myself), someone commented that it looked like people piling out of a clown car.
Sunrise was completely different from last summer. Last summer, we went up sometime in July, just a week or so after they opened up that part of the park. There were still several feet of snow piled high in drifts all over the place.
This time, we arrived to discover the peak of the wildflower bloom. Somehow, while I don't care for the bluebonnets in Texas, I was okay with the alpine lupines on Mt. Rainier. I think the occasional shocking red of Indian paintbrush helped. I suspect that the first Indian paintbrush I ever saw was somewhere on Mt. Rainier, as I've often been disappointed by the dull orange paintbrush I've seen elsewhere - I always expect it to be bright, shocking red. I had to take photos, so I'll see what I can post tomorrow.
We stopped by the visitor's center, where I used a telescope to observe the climbers high up on the mountain, and then we took a quick hike up to Frozen lake, which still had a bit of snow around the edges. At one point, when I managed to get a bit ahead of everyone else, I watched a pika bounding through the rocks. They are adorable.
The air on Mt. Rainier was incredible - full of the sweet aroma of the wildflowers, plus the smell of pine, plus just the cool thinness of alpine air.
Then, all too quickly, we headed back down the mountain so Sytharin and L could make it back to the airport and so my dad and I could hop back on our bicycles to head for Seattle. We had to make it back before it got dark, because I seem to have misplaced half of my headlight and we forgot to carry along a spare. And yes, success on that front, though the ride back took a bit more work with a headwind.
Seattle can be an amazing, magical place in August. This is the time of year that draws people in and makes them think Seattle might be paradise. Many cannot handle the nine months out of the year when it is grey and drizzly, but it's easy enough to fall in love with the fresh air, abundant fruits and berries, and glorious weather - sunny, but not too hot, really.
My enjoyment is wistful, though, for I wishscrottie were here to share in all of the enjoyment. Things just don't always work out perfectly, I guess.
My father and I rode from our house out to Enumclaw yesterday.
sytharin and her boyfriend came into town for a quick weekend visit, and with the two of them, there were too many of us to all fit in the family car. Besides, the new bicycle deserved a decent test ride. We rode over to the Duwamish River Trail in West Seattle, and took it out to the Green River Trail, which eventually connects to the Interurban Trail, which took us all the way out to Auburn. In Auburn, we discovered that our favorite coffeeshop was closed, so my dad had a quick sandwich at a grocery store and then we headed through the Green River Valley.Lots of people were hanging out in the Green River Valley. It's summer, so most were out tubing in the river. When we reached the final river crossing before heading up the big hill (11% grade) onto the Enumclaw Plateau, we came upon an old wooden chair, sitting in the middle of the bridge. That made for a nice spot to pause. While we looked out at the river and the people tubing and splashing along, I remarked to my father that if
scrottie had been along with us, he probably would have stopped to go swimming at least five times by that point. Then both of us realized that a swim sounded quite refreshing. It was a rather warm afternoon. So first I headed down to the river and waded in, sandals and socks and all. Then my father headed down, stripped down to just his bike shorts, and belly-flopped in the water (it was shallow, so that was the best way to get completely wet).Refreshing, yes. Refreshed, we tackled the hill. The last time I went up that hill, I was hauling a bunch of gear on my mom's old touring bike, and I couldn't get the bike to shift into low gears, so I eventually had to get off and walk up. On the new bike, I flew right up. The feel of the new bike is interesting - it has some of the same feel of quickness as Spud, my old road bike, but I can tell I'm not on aluminum/carbon fiber but am riding steel, instead. I love the bar end shifters, as my friend R could have predicted. It feels amazing to ride a bike where the cockpit is adjusted right for me - no shoulder tension, and minimal hand/wrist fatigue. It's easy to ride in the drops. This is a big deal for me. This is a bike I could ride at least 100-200 miles, and I will have to ride that far to see how much further I could go.
In Enumclaw, we got in a brief visit with my aunt C and uncle F. Sytharin and L picked all of the blueberries that had been ripening for a week or two on my grandpa's blueberry bushes. They tasted amazing - nothing at all like store-bought blueberries. We also got in two rapid-fire games of cribbage with my grandpa, with my team winning both times. Then we headed back to the house for strawberry-rhubarb pie (made by yours truly, and I dare say it came out deliciously) and sleep.
The next morning, after a quick breakfast, we wedged ourselves into the car to head over to Mt. Rainier for a visit to Sunrise. The trip made me wistful for last summer's bike ride up to the top, but there just wasn't enough time, this time around, so I had to content myself with at least the visit to the top. When the five of us piled out at a rest stop (it was my parents, Sytharin, L, and myself), someone commented that it looked like people piling out of a clown car.
Sunrise was completely different from last summer. Last summer, we went up sometime in July, just a week or so after they opened up that part of the park. There were still several feet of snow piled high in drifts all over the place.
This time, we arrived to discover the peak of the wildflower bloom. Somehow, while I don't care for the bluebonnets in Texas, I was okay with the alpine lupines on Mt. Rainier. I think the occasional shocking red of Indian paintbrush helped. I suspect that the first Indian paintbrush I ever saw was somewhere on Mt. Rainier, as I've often been disappointed by the dull orange paintbrush I've seen elsewhere - I always expect it to be bright, shocking red. I had to take photos, so I'll see what I can post tomorrow.
We stopped by the visitor's center, where I used a telescope to observe the climbers high up on the mountain, and then we took a quick hike up to Frozen lake, which still had a bit of snow around the edges. At one point, when I managed to get a bit ahead of everyone else, I watched a pika bounding through the rocks. They are adorable.
The air on Mt. Rainier was incredible - full of the sweet aroma of the wildflowers, plus the smell of pine, plus just the cool thinness of alpine air.
Then, all too quickly, we headed back down the mountain so Sytharin and L could make it back to the airport and so my dad and I could hop back on our bicycles to head for Seattle. We had to make it back before it got dark, because I seem to have misplaced half of my headlight and we forgot to carry along a spare. And yes, success on that front, though the ride back took a bit more work with a headwind.
Seattle can be an amazing, magical place in August. This is the time of year that draws people in and makes them think Seattle might be paradise. Many cannot handle the nine months out of the year when it is grey and drizzly, but it's easy enough to fall in love with the fresh air, abundant fruits and berries, and glorious weather - sunny, but not too hot, really.
My enjoyment is wistful, though, for I wish
scrottie were here to share in all of the enjoyment. Things just don't always work out perfectly, I guess.
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no subject
Date: 2012-08-14 06:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-08-14 05:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-08-14 07:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-08-14 05:13 pm (UTC)It has been so interesting to follow along as you get settled in your new place, too. I suspect that you will find a whole host of things that are unique to your new home so that, while it will never be Seattle, it will still be a special, wonderful place.
no subject
Date: 2012-08-15 04:16 pm (UTC)Yeah, I think that about sums it up. Hopefully the blackberries will come on. I have to say, a lot of the fruit hasn't wowed me here. Washington fruit is just so freaking exquisite. I am a spoiled brat. The nectarines are good here. Though funny enough they come from Spain. And apricots come from France.
no subject
Date: 2012-08-15 06:19 pm (UTC)I will say, however, that I grew pleasantly delighted by some of the other fruity delights that were available in Arizona but not Washington - amazing figs, plentiful fresh citrus in the winter, awesome peppers, and fun things like prickly pear pads (nopalitos) and fruits.
Texas, on the other hand - Texas is *not* an organic state. Organic tomatoes get shipped in from Mexico. Some of the local farmers grow absolutely amazing melons, but the peaches are no good, and the blackberries are no good. Organic citrus trucked in from somewhere else costs an arm and a leg. Most of the rest of the "organic" stuff available in the markets is all shipped over from Earthbound Farms in California. If I wanted organic produce from California, I'd live in California.
What a rant.
But yeah. When the stuff that's available locally isn't all that amazing, I try to quiet my whiny inner Seattleite and just appreciate what I can make myself.
And hey, what about blueberries? Time to start your own blueberry bush? What will grow there, that you can grow yourself? Oh, I'm remembering having a lot of fun with fresh currants in Denmark, too.
no subject
Date: 2012-08-21 06:00 pm (UTC)Poor Texas. All that space and nothing great.