MC Raven Trip Report 17 – Idaho and Northern Washington

Southern B.C. was full of smoke from forest fires. Canada’s main East/West highway was closed and all the drivers were heading down to the US and the interstate to head west to Vancouver. I crossed into Idaho and headed for Highway 20.

Highway 20 runs across northern Washington state and this was my first visit there. Usually, we’d take the interstate (I-90). Hwy-20 is waaaay better! Even with the constant smoke and fires, it’s still waaaay better. Beautiful scenery, great small towns, practically empty campgrounds just waiting for me to arrive and, finally, dry out. At one campground the hand operated water pump had stopped working: the plumber wouldn’t be able to come for 2-days. They offered me the campsite at half-price. Since it was a US Forest Service campsite and I was already getting half-price because of my Senior discount, that meant I was staying for ¼ price! I decided to stay for 4-days instead of 1!

Wild fires were everywhere until I arrived in Anacortes. Here’s some pics of a particularly bad one (I think this fire killed 3 firefighters).

The visit to Anacortes and the boat was a rather melancholy, depressing one. We forget that, just because we’re not there watching, boats continue to need maintenance. SV Raven was showing the effects of 3+ years of neglect. Rust, wood that needed tending, sails and decks that wanted maintenance. 

We’d left it there in storage expecting to be right back after a short summer’s visit to Juneau. Instead, after Juneau, we went to visit Jeremey and his family in Aberdeen, SD, then, down to Arkansas to attend my Aunt Lois’ memorial. Back to Aberdeen then, the next summer back up the Alaska Highway to Juneau. This became our routine for the next 3-years. Juneau, AK in the summer, Aberdeen, SD in the winter. Then of course, last year with Christine’s illness, we didn’t go anywhere.

My visit this year was the first since the autumn of 2013 when we’d unloaded most of our personal stuff (clothes, native art collection, tools, etc.). I’d left the storage bins open so the air could circulate. Coming back, the interior just looked like a ham-handed burglary had taken place.

I rode the ferry over to San Juan Island and headed out to South Beach Park. Just as I turned off the main road, a fox ran across in front of me – long tail stretched out like a bushy arm, black tip pointing back to where it’d come from.

South Beach Park is on the other side of a ridge. As I topped the rise, I saw what looked like large kites floating in the air ahead of me. Heading down the slope towards the shore I realized that the ‘kites’ were in fact boats anchored offshore fishing. The sky and the water were so exactly the same color that I’d mistaken boats for kites. I’ve been away from the sea for too long.

There weren’t many people there at that time of day so I had one of the beach access roads to myself. Christine and I used to love coming here: the shore is covered with driftwood that people use to build forts and shelters. I took some of Chrissy out and sat on a log and we talked for a while. I told her what a fool I’d been with the boat ‘kites’. By this time, I’ve spread her ashes over many of North America’s most beautiful places; this place really moved me. I admit, I cried some as we talked. It occurred to me that, if she’d been there, some island woman would see me and think to herself, “Look at that poor, desperate man. He looks like someone out of Wuthering Heights. I should bring him a casserole.” The trouble with riding as much as I do is that no one gets the chance to be nice to you. I could use a good casserole.

Chrissy told me to stop feeling sorry for myself and go feed the camel: so, I did. Mona is a camel who’s retired from show-business. She lives on a farm on the north side of the island. I stopped by the grocery store for some apples and headed her way. 

When I got there, there was a grandmother and granddaughter trying to coax Mona over to the fence – she wasn’t falling for it. After explaining that Mona’s favorite snack was an apple, I cut one up into slices and called her over. She took some sweet-talking but she came. The little girl and I gave her some apple slices then, Mona and I had a really good conversation. I’m sure she didn’t recognize me; it’d been 4 or 5 years since I’d visited her but, we seemed to have a real rapport. She nuzzled me and let me scratch her jawline and ears. When I left, I could hardly speak to the humans, my mind was so full of camel speech. Mona has quite a powerful personality.

David the Camel Whisperer – that’s me.

Next stop – the Olympic Peninsula and the coast highway.