Category West

A Cruise to Tillicum Village

 

Leave it to me to book a trip to Tillicum Village on a date when an enormous windstorm hits the city. The water seemed pretty choppy on the ride over to Blake Island, but not insane storm worthy, so I was surprised when the Argosy crew announced that the island had lost power and everyone was going to try and make do by candlelight as the food was already cooked. Uh oh.

Given the aforementioned “make do” information, I was all set to have this be a sort of medicore experience, a half-assed version of the full-priced experience I’d paid for, AAA discount nonwithstanding. It was actually intimate and charming. We were still greeted with a mug of piping hot steamed clams in nectar upon our arrival, the shells of which we crunched underfoot to add to the pathway to the longhouse. We were seated right by the stage, next to an elderly couple who split their wine flight with us as the wife insisted the husband couldn’t handle all of it himself. The food was all delicious–the salmon (sustainable), the stew, the rice, the bread, the blackberry cobbler made with locally sourced berries–we stuffed ourselves.

The performances were likely quieter than normal, and with no light effects or other distractions, I could really focus on how special it was to be there in that moment. I’m glad that it seems like everything done as part of Tillicum Village is executed with respect and care. The native stories were told by Roger Fernandes, a member and storyteller of the Lower Elwha Klallam tribe. The songs and dances were used with the permission of the native familes to whom they belong, which is really important–it’s why I took no photos, because they’re not mine to share with you. They also made sure to note that while you see totems on the property, they are actually not part of the traditions of the coast Salish people of Puget Sound and are actually sourced from the coastal tribes of British Columbia and Alaska. My expectations of the day were defied in every way, and I couldn’t be happier about it.

On our way back from the island, I checked my phone and saw that my area was entirely without power as well, a friend had lost a good portion of her roof, and she was driving over to my place to make sure a tree hadn’t crushed my dog (for the record, he remains uncrushed). The power was out for the remainder of the day, and I was grateful I’d stuffed myself on salmon earlier because even after spending 11 days in a blackout, I’m still terrible at stocking food you can eat straight from the pantry. Thank you, Tillicum Village.

It’s OK I guess: A trip to Cape Disappointment

cape disappointment

fogI thought it was pretty funny that they printed a sign for fog.

dense fogBut by gum, they were right, that fog was front and center. Evidently, it’s one of the foggiest places in the United States. Take that, San Francisco, and eat it with your regional treat!

dragonfly

lewis and clark interpretive center

use a dogs nose

dead mans cove

 

jason at dead mans cove

lighthouse at cape disappointment

lighthouse

jason lighthouse

mossy building

jason mossy building

lewis and clark cliff

poop rockPossibly the poopiest rock of all time.

As with a number of things on my 33 list, I didn’t have a big pressing reason to add visiting Cape Disappointment to its number. I’d never been, it sounded scenic, it was within a reasonable driving distance, hey, let’s go. It’s actually not a disappointment at all, between the superb Lewis & Clark Interpretive Center and the miles of hiking trails in Cape Disappointment State Park. We hiked from the interpretive center to the lighthouse which took us past the picturesque Dead Man’s Cove (man, everything here has such a cheery name, I can’t wait to visit Butt Rot Park and Misery Peak, maybe Mediocre Cliffs if there’s time). The lighthouse is a working lighthouse as the nearby Columbia River bar is extremely hazardous, so a sign sternly informed us to leave the coast guard the fuck alone and get the hell out of the way of any cars driving up and down the path.

I thought it was funny that in the Lewis & Clark Interpretive Center, there was a “lighthouse passport” with insane levels of achievement for collecting lighthouse stamps (seriously, I could spend the rest of my life’s vacations solely visiting lighthouses and I don’t think it would be possible to collect 420 unique lighthouse stamps…shit, I’m struggling with 33 activities in a year!)  and then when we got to the lighthouse, there was no actual stamper on site and I didn’t want to distract the coast guard for something as frivolous as a stamp for a book that I didn’t even buy. It turns out that a lot of the stamps for visiting the lighthouses are at locations other than the lighthouse, which means that you have to visit two places for every one stamp, and that half the achievement is just figuring out where in the hell you’re supposed to go for your stamp. What I’m saying is, filling a lighthouse passport will not be on my 34 list.

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Scootin’ San Juan Island

scootin san juan map

 

scoot coupe

Almost a year to the day from my last visit, I set sail for San Juan Island, this time to explore more of what the island itself had to offer. Rather than take my car across on the ferry, I elected to rent a scoot coupe: a two-seater, three-wheeled moped that tops out around 40 miles per hour. The only thing standing in my way was the fact that my moped experience was limited to riding on the back of my second host father’s scooter in Taiwan–I’ve really always been more of an indoor kind of rebel, saving my leather wear for goth clubs and looking cool rather than for anything that might require that sort of protection.

My rental place did go over the ins and outs of driving a scoot coupe: don’t leave one of the buttons pressed in or your battery will drain. You have to manually disengage the turn signal because otherwise it will just keep blinking forever. Always put the wheel chock in front of a tire when parked. Always engage the brake lock when parked because of the inevitable kids playing on and around the coupe and their tendency to dislodge the chock. There is no reverse, one of you will have to get out and push in a reversing situation. Don’t go on any road that’s not on the provided map. Don’t try to u-turn on any of the roads because your turn radius is so enormous you’ll end up in a ditch. Speaking of which, pull over when cars are behind you so you don’t impede traffic but don’t just pull over blindly or you’ll probably end up in a ditch (don’t end up in a ditch). Got all that? Ok, drive that baby across the parking lot. You now have ten feet of experience and out into traffic you go! Of course, I immediately got flustered and missed the first turn, which meant poor Jason had to figure out the map and shout the new directions out at me because those big ass-helmets they have you wear are not super conducive to hearing. Or my ears clamp shut when I’m in a panic-type situation. Maybe both.

Once I got the hang of things (which actually happened fairly quickly), I had a lot of fun driving the scoot coupe. It felt like I’d somehow escaped a carnival with a souped-up bumper car, and had a great time careening around corners with the wind blowing in my face. It was late in the year, so there wasn’t a ton of traffic on the roads save for other scoot coupes, and we always honked and waved, which made me feel like I was part of a tiny adorable gang.

Since you can essentially drive around the island in one big loop, my first stop was at American Camp. As I’ve briefly talked about in a previous post, San Juan Island was the site of a territory dispute between the United States and England, with the island’s strategic position between the United States and Vancouver island, and as a result, both Americans and the English attempted to settle it. One day, an American farmer, Lyman Cutlar, found a pig digging up and eating his potatoes (not for the first time, either), so he shot it. The pig turned out to belong to an Irishman, Charles Griffin. Cutlar offered Griffin $10 for the loss of the pig, Griffin demanded $100, the British threatened to take Cutlar into custody, and in response, the other Americans on the island called for American military protection–thus sparking what is now known as the pig war. There was a lot of saber rattling on both sides, warships circled the tiny island, but ultimately no shots were fired. An American camp was established on the south of the island and an English camp was establish in the north, and eventually outside arbitration from Germany determined that San Juan lay within the boundaries of the United States. AT&T, however, still disputes that notion as I received a text message welcoming me to Canada and helpfully informing me that I’d be charged out the wazoo for data.

american camp

american camp site

american camp buildings

american camp view

eagle cove

eagle cove san juan

At American Camp,  in addition to the visitor’s center and some historical buildings, there are a good number of walking trails that take you down to the various coves and the lighthouse at South Beach. I ended up taking one of the trails to Grandma’s Cove after briefly seeing what there was to see in the visitor’s center–it was too gorgeous out to stay inside for very long. I didn’t end up hiking to the lighthouse because I was concerned about spending too much time in one spot on the loop, so after a bit more time checking out the laundress’ and officer’s quarters, it was back into the scoot coupe to putt to the next destination: Pelindaba Lavender Farm.

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