Showing posts with label Icicle River. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Icicle River. Show all posts
Friday, July 17, 2015
Chatter Creek trail hike
Gorgeous uphill hike yesterday, then back down again for about 8500 steps total. Loved, loved, loved it.
Wednesday, July 15, 2015
Monday, July 13, 2015
a short week with Rigby
After much (much!!!) debate with myself mostly, we have decided to bring Rigby home. She was settling in some and really seemed to love the hikes, but she was needing to be ON FULL ALERT about 20 hours of every day. Not good. Also, we were finding that all our thoughts, conversations, plans, and worries revolved around her. All cat all the time.
So. I've been waffling on this decision from the first full day, and finally this morning during our hike with her was able to make the call. It will hurt more than I can say to leave her, and it brings a lot of fear (I have a bone-deep belief that animals die when I leave them, thanks to several past events). But it's the right thing for her and for us.
Here's the blog post I wrote this morning prior to that hike.
We are coming up on the end of week one. We've spent it all at the Ida Creek campground on the Icicle River outside of Leavenworth. It's an idyllic place -- long one of my favorites in all the world -- and the 100+ temperatures that had caused us to hesitate to come here lasted only through the first full day. Since then, it's been comfortable edging toward cool, and we have counted ourselves very lucky.
This has been our shakedown week, figuring out what works and what doesn't, letting our bodies and minds adjust to these new rhythms (or lack thereof). We've got all the gear sorted mostly, with everyday use items in the trailer and the rest stowed in the van. The trailer is... cozy? cluttered?...but functional, and I do love to have things in their places. The aft bunk is a double. I have it set up half storage and half as a little seating area. We found these stadium chairs that work very well in there to give us a little back support while we read or contemplate our navels, and one of our hanging storage caddies blocks that area off from the rest of the trailer, so there's even some separation of space.
Moving forward into the main living area, we're trying to keep the table mostly clear except for the items we're using. We each have our settee at the table, mine aft and Frank's forward, so laptops and such can take one seat while we take the other. Across the aisle is a low cupboard that runs from the door to the aft bunk. The surface of this is covered by the food bins. This area might bear some adjustment to create some open space, but it's working the way it is now. Below the shelf are four cupboards. There's not a lot in there right now, for reasons I'll explain shortly.
The galley shelf and cupboards are serious storage zone, with pots and pans and (separately) the porta-potty in the cupboards below and with all of our storage drawers stacked on top. We each have a big clothing drawer, and a selection of smaller storage drawers holds utensils and scissors and card games and just *stuff*, with hooks on one side for our hats, Rigby's leash, and a small toiletries bag. The galley itself (sink and stovetop) are home to the tea kettle and a big coffee urn that keeps water hot all day; I'm still learning the proper mix of hot and cold water in there so usually it's either scalding hot or tepid. Below is the refrigerator and the trash cupboard.
All the way forward is the king-sized berth. It's heaped with quilts at the moment because the nights have been chilly. In later stops, we anticipate needing a top sheet only.
Outside the door is the optional screened room. I *love* this space. It has the little propane barbecue that came with the trailer, our cooler, a couple of chairs, and a kick-off-your-shoes area. We've covered the ground out there with a big blue tarp, and it is working really well to keep the dirt outside the trailer. It gives us some extra bug-free living space (although the bug populations are evidently on holiday here as we've had little issue with them since it cooled off), and it's very pleasant to sit out there.
So that's the living space. Our daily routine varies, but we've been figuring out things like how much we need to run the generator (not at all the first few days and now about an hour a day keeps Kindles and laptops and the Sonicare running) and how to stay clean (last night we tried the hip-bath approach in one of our storage bins, with actual hot water to sit in and that was pretty fricking good!). Yesterday, we discovered that for two $1 cones we can get "free" wifi at McDonald's, and the ice cream hit the spot too. And we learned (but haven't yet found it worth it) that the community pool offers us the chance to swim and SHOWER for $9 total; we're holding that one in reserve. Practical information like that is surprisingly helpful in terms of mental settling in; I can see better how this is going to work as a lifestyle.
Mentally, there has definitely been some adjustment and rearrangement too. I spent the first week *extremely* restless, likely coming down from the intensity of the weeks (years) preceding our trip, and I have been eating nonstop. Both conditions have abated a bit recently, so I am hopeful of finding some true relaxation. And even in my restlessness, I've been enjoying myself a lot-lot. I've been walking a fair bit and scribbling in my notebook and organizing, organizing, organizing and making checklists, all of which I love. But for good or bad, this is really the first time I've used my laptop. I don't know why I feel so guilty about that -- after using computers for 30 years, it's probably okay to take a week off! -- but writers are supposed to write, ya know.
Frank is establishing his own routines and is clearly feeling good, and that's very nice to see. He's been working on his novel and playing guitar and doing kata and, as always, listening to me talk.
Most of the talking has been about the cat. Our thoughts all week have been dominated by concern for Rigby. She started off okay on the day we arrived, even after the distressing van ride and all the noise of setup, and found the nighttime SO exciting that she barely let us sleep as she patrolled the trailer and talked to the night. But the next day (day 1 using Frank's terminology) she went into freakout mode when some people moved into the site next to ours. We're not sure what it was about them that was so terrifying. She finds all the other people in the campground alarming, too, but these two *really* bothered her. Whatever the case, she went into full-on Panicked Retreat!! mode, hiding in cupboards or under the flaps of the tent ends, for hours on end, her entire little body rigid with fear. By the morning of day 3, it was clear that we had to do something different or just give up and take her home.
We bundled her into her stealth backpack so we could walk past all the campers without causing her undue stress, and then we let her out to walk on her harness and leash once we reached a little trailhead here at the campground. The trail runs parallel to the river without being right on the river, so it's not too noisy, and it's straight and level and an easy walk. It's pretty open-air, so that was a concern (I know from our practice hikes at home that she does better in more wooded areas), but she headed right off down the trail. She definitely understands the concept of "walking the trail" and will lead or follow or whatever, and a clicking noise from me with a small tug on the leash lets her know when her definition of "trail" differs a bit from ours. She looks around and sees where I mean and corrects her path.
This particular trail crosses five or six little creeks, and at each you have to go down into a little gully, cross the creek, and climb up the other side. She took these obstacles completely in stride and *loved* being creekside, where she could sniff the cooler air and nibble on grass. Watching her cross those creeks was so fun! She'd ponder all her options, gather herself, and then leap, leaving me to scramble to keep up with her as she powered up the slope on the other side. Extremely cute. (Frank has video of one such leap -- check it out! ) The best one was a wider creek that has a couple of stepping stones. She eyed the stones, apparently said, "The hell with that," and leapt the whole thing in one go. Rigby the Wonder Cat. Out and back, she walked about 5000 Ronnie-steps (as measured by my Fitbit). Quite an adventure for a 10-pound cat.
Once back at camp, she was calmer -- or maybe just tired! -- and, happily, the scary campers had left while we were away! On the same day, the temperatures came down by about 20 degrees -- more at night! we've been chilly! -- so the tent trailer, which is in shade most of the day, doesn't need to be wide open to the breezes and noises and *input* of life in a wilderness campground. We're not sure which of these helped or if it was just a good combination of factors, but she has never again achieved that same state of rigid panic. We hiked with her again yesterday -- 4800 steps of easy ups and downs that *really* wore her out -- she slept for about 16 hours afterward! -- and she's better (when she's awake).
But she still likes to hide, and we have reserved one particular cupboard for her use. She's relaxed now while she hides, and gives us sleepily contented blinks when we speak to her, but it's still distressing to see her scared; this is not what I had in mind for her or for us. We're taking it one day at a time, but my current gut feeling is that we'll be taking her home before the week is out. The idea causes some sadness, but it would also be a relief to be able to stop worrying!
Meanwhile, I love this life. It is so, so beautiful here, with the gorgeous combination of trees and rushing water and big glacier-dropped boulders. We've been coming up here for most of my adult life, and every time we visit I am struck anew by how amazing this place is. It changes all the time. They had a big wildfire come through several years back, with the scars of that prominent in the views now, and just a few years ago the river shifted course, blocking access to a couple of the more popular and beautiful campgrounds and trails. The new road is cut through now (although my memory says there is one less campground than there used to be), so we can get to all our old favorite spots.
I think we'll probably stay here for another two or three days (one of which might be a van-only run back to Everett to return Rigby home), and then head east. But all plans mentioned in this blog are very much subject to change.
So. I've been waffling on this decision from the first full day, and finally this morning during our hike with her was able to make the call. It will hurt more than I can say to leave her, and it brings a lot of fear (I have a bone-deep belief that animals die when I leave them, thanks to several past events). But it's the right thing for her and for us.
Here's the blog post I wrote this morning prior to that hike.
We are coming up on the end of week one. We've spent it all at the Ida Creek campground on the Icicle River outside of Leavenworth. It's an idyllic place -- long one of my favorites in all the world -- and the 100+ temperatures that had caused us to hesitate to come here lasted only through the first full day. Since then, it's been comfortable edging toward cool, and we have counted ourselves very lucky.
This has been our shakedown week, figuring out what works and what doesn't, letting our bodies and minds adjust to these new rhythms (or lack thereof). We've got all the gear sorted mostly, with everyday use items in the trailer and the rest stowed in the van. The trailer is... cozy? cluttered?...but functional, and I do love to have things in their places. The aft bunk is a double. I have it set up half storage and half as a little seating area. We found these stadium chairs that work very well in there to give us a little back support while we read or contemplate our navels, and one of our hanging storage caddies blocks that area off from the rest of the trailer, so there's even some separation of space.
Moving forward into the main living area, we're trying to keep the table mostly clear except for the items we're using. We each have our settee at the table, mine aft and Frank's forward, so laptops and such can take one seat while we take the other. Across the aisle is a low cupboard that runs from the door to the aft bunk. The surface of this is covered by the food bins. This area might bear some adjustment to create some open space, but it's working the way it is now. Below the shelf are four cupboards. There's not a lot in there right now, for reasons I'll explain shortly.
The galley shelf and cupboards are serious storage zone, with pots and pans and (separately) the porta-potty in the cupboards below and with all of our storage drawers stacked on top. We each have a big clothing drawer, and a selection of smaller storage drawers holds utensils and scissors and card games and just *stuff*, with hooks on one side for our hats, Rigby's leash, and a small toiletries bag. The galley itself (sink and stovetop) are home to the tea kettle and a big coffee urn that keeps water hot all day; I'm still learning the proper mix of hot and cold water in there so usually it's either scalding hot or tepid. Below is the refrigerator and the trash cupboard.
All the way forward is the king-sized berth. It's heaped with quilts at the moment because the nights have been chilly. In later stops, we anticipate needing a top sheet only.
Outside the door is the optional screened room. I *love* this space. It has the little propane barbecue that came with the trailer, our cooler, a couple of chairs, and a kick-off-your-shoes area. We've covered the ground out there with a big blue tarp, and it is working really well to keep the dirt outside the trailer. It gives us some extra bug-free living space (although the bug populations are evidently on holiday here as we've had little issue with them since it cooled off), and it's very pleasant to sit out there.
So that's the living space. Our daily routine varies, but we've been figuring out things like how much we need to run the generator (not at all the first few days and now about an hour a day keeps Kindles and laptops and the Sonicare running) and how to stay clean (last night we tried the hip-bath approach in one of our storage bins, with actual hot water to sit in and that was pretty fricking good!). Yesterday, we discovered that for two $1 cones we can get "free" wifi at McDonald's, and the ice cream hit the spot too. And we learned (but haven't yet found it worth it) that the community pool offers us the chance to swim and SHOWER for $9 total; we're holding that one in reserve. Practical information like that is surprisingly helpful in terms of mental settling in; I can see better how this is going to work as a lifestyle.
Mentally, there has definitely been some adjustment and rearrangement too. I spent the first week *extremely* restless, likely coming down from the intensity of the weeks (years) preceding our trip, and I have been eating nonstop. Both conditions have abated a bit recently, so I am hopeful of finding some true relaxation. And even in my restlessness, I've been enjoying myself a lot-lot. I've been walking a fair bit and scribbling in my notebook and organizing, organizing, organizing and making checklists, all of which I love. But for good or bad, this is really the first time I've used my laptop. I don't know why I feel so guilty about that -- after using computers for 30 years, it's probably okay to take a week off! -- but writers are supposed to write, ya know.
Frank is establishing his own routines and is clearly feeling good, and that's very nice to see. He's been working on his novel and playing guitar and doing kata and, as always, listening to me talk.
Most of the talking has been about the cat. Our thoughts all week have been dominated by concern for Rigby. She started off okay on the day we arrived, even after the distressing van ride and all the noise of setup, and found the nighttime SO exciting that she barely let us sleep as she patrolled the trailer and talked to the night. But the next day (day 1 using Frank's terminology) she went into freakout mode when some people moved into the site next to ours. We're not sure what it was about them that was so terrifying. She finds all the other people in the campground alarming, too, but these two *really* bothered her. Whatever the case, she went into full-on Panicked Retreat!! mode, hiding in cupboards or under the flaps of the tent ends, for hours on end, her entire little body rigid with fear. By the morning of day 3, it was clear that we had to do something different or just give up and take her home.
We bundled her into her stealth backpack so we could walk past all the campers without causing her undue stress, and then we let her out to walk on her harness and leash once we reached a little trailhead here at the campground. The trail runs parallel to the river without being right on the river, so it's not too noisy, and it's straight and level and an easy walk. It's pretty open-air, so that was a concern (I know from our practice hikes at home that she does better in more wooded areas), but she headed right off down the trail. She definitely understands the concept of "walking the trail" and will lead or follow or whatever, and a clicking noise from me with a small tug on the leash lets her know when her definition of "trail" differs a bit from ours. She looks around and sees where I mean and corrects her path.
This particular trail crosses five or six little creeks, and at each you have to go down into a little gully, cross the creek, and climb up the other side. She took these obstacles completely in stride and *loved* being creekside, where she could sniff the cooler air and nibble on grass. Watching her cross those creeks was so fun! She'd ponder all her options, gather herself, and then leap, leaving me to scramble to keep up with her as she powered up the slope on the other side. Extremely cute. (Frank has video of one such leap -- check it out! ) The best one was a wider creek that has a couple of stepping stones. She eyed the stones, apparently said, "The hell with that," and leapt the whole thing in one go. Rigby the Wonder Cat. Out and back, she walked about 5000 Ronnie-steps (as measured by my Fitbit). Quite an adventure for a 10-pound cat.
Once back at camp, she was calmer -- or maybe just tired! -- and, happily, the scary campers had left while we were away! On the same day, the temperatures came down by about 20 degrees -- more at night! we've been chilly! -- so the tent trailer, which is in shade most of the day, doesn't need to be wide open to the breezes and noises and *input* of life in a wilderness campground. We're not sure which of these helped or if it was just a good combination of factors, but she has never again achieved that same state of rigid panic. We hiked with her again yesterday -- 4800 steps of easy ups and downs that *really* wore her out -- she slept for about 16 hours afterward! -- and she's better (when she's awake).
But she still likes to hide, and we have reserved one particular cupboard for her use. She's relaxed now while she hides, and gives us sleepily contented blinks when we speak to her, but it's still distressing to see her scared; this is not what I had in mind for her or for us. We're taking it one day at a time, but my current gut feeling is that we'll be taking her home before the week is out. The idea causes some sadness, but it would also be a relief to be able to stop worrying!
Meanwhile, I love this life. It is so, so beautiful here, with the gorgeous combination of trees and rushing water and big glacier-dropped boulders. We've been coming up here for most of my adult life, and every time we visit I am struck anew by how amazing this place is. It changes all the time. They had a big wildfire come through several years back, with the scars of that prominent in the views now, and just a few years ago the river shifted course, blocking access to a couple of the more popular and beautiful campgrounds and trails. The new road is cut through now (although my memory says there is one less campground than there used to be), so we can get to all our old favorite spots.
I think we'll probably stay here for another two or three days (one of which might be a van-only run back to Everett to return Rigby home), and then head east. But all plans mentioned in this blog are very much subject to change.
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