We were in search of a change of pace. Maybe something more refined. Something that didn’t involve getting dirty.
Outside display, Chihuly
We were close to Tacoma and searching for a museum to visit, of all things. We found the Museum of Glass. Wow! What a cool place. Dale Chihuly is from Tacoma so he was well represented. The galleries were also full of the works of many more talented artists.
Interestingly, the Museum of Glass has a “Hot Shop” on site. You enter the space beneath a huge dome and take a seat in the amphitheater. Artists are working with glass on the floor below, creating pieces that will be sold in the museum shop. Famous glass sculptors, including Chihuly himself, use the shop to demo their techniques and create art that is then donated to the museum. Fascinating to watch art being created. It’s narrated by a museum expert so we could know what they were doing.
In the Hot ShopIn the Hot ShopNew and old, museum on the left
Today we enjoyed some manmade beauty at the Museum of Glass in Tacoma!
Miscellany from the trip:
FoxgloveCampsite in big treesLush trailsLupineMossy old stump
Jane
(Written at Donna’s Bar and Family Dining in Toledo, WA. Finished at The Oasis Bar and Restaurant in Castle Rock, WA)
We were in Seattle. Morgan is a friend we met back home in Baltimore. Actually, David met him during the MOCO Epic, a 40 mile mountain bike event in Montgomery County. He met Morgan, rode with him a bit and immediately invited him to share our house in Davis, West Virginia for the Canaan Mountain Bike Festival! I was a little concerned but David usually has a good sense of people and it was certainly true this time. Morgan is a joy and so are his wife and kids. They hosted us for a delicious dinner at their home.
Actually, Morgan lives in a suburb of Seattle called Kirkland. Sound familiar? It should, because it’s the Costco house brand. Upon searching, I was disappointed to find that there was no Costco museum in Kirkland. Bummer. Forgive my enthusiasm, but I have been resistant to joining any of the warehouse club outlets like Costco and Sam’s club, etc until very recently. I blame the aging process. I needed hearing aids but darned if I was going to pay $7,000 for a pair. A friend told me that Costco has a hearing center where you can get a $1,500 set of hearing aids, including testing and fitting by a professional. Couldn’t sign up fast enough and now I’m hooked.
I found the Northwest coastal weather to be a bit discouraging. It was cold and damp this morning.
David has appreciated my ability to ‘rough it’. Living out of a van is a challenge I’m usually willing to accept. Shower once a week at best; sponge bath in between. Sketchy bathroom facilities, where they even exist. Laundry at a laundromat only when everything has been worn over and over. Keeping warm. Keeping dry. Keeping cool. Keeping critters at bay. Setting up a very rudimentary kitchen at every campsite. But I love it!
It’s freeing because everything is stripped down to basics. Not having a detailed plan is very freeing. We do what we want, everyday. And the biking, hiking, visiting and sightseeing has been wonderful. Getting to know a beautiful location intimately because you’ve spent a few hours on the dirt is a great way to go.
The campsite was beautiful
This morning, I was having none of it though, because I was cold, tired and damp. David took a bike ride while I sulked in the car. Then the sun came out and just like that, I was back in business. Ready to roll.
Lush and green. So different from where we’ve been lately
We’ll be in Pacific Northwest for a few more days so I better get my act together and break out the raincoat!
We’ve camped in two wildly different campsites the last couple of nights. First, was the great one. Lush with Ponderosa Pines and wildflowers.
Deep in the enormous Bitterroot National Forest in Western Idaho. Down a short path through our private woods was the Selway River. No boat docks or really anything but trees and rushing clear water in sight. Truly idyllic.
Driving west into Washington was a different story. We were out of the lush woods. No National Forest wild camping. Just dry, very hot and almost exclusively farmed open plains.
Our next camping site could not have been more different. One hundred degrees when we pulled up to a small state park. Blazing sun everywhere. Trees, where they existed were small and offered little shade. The campsite was no more than a small pullout with a picnic table and fire pit. Did I mention the blazing sun? Oh, and the pit toilet. Let’s just say that it hadn’t had any maintenance for a very long time.
I suppose we could have chosen a far northern route and found peace and shade again but we were on a mission this time to bullet straight across Washington to suburban Seattle for another friend visit.
My image of Washington State is of coastal rainforest. Eastern Washington is not that. Vast grassland plains at the time of white settler conquest, the area is now vast farms of spring wheat. Summer brings the canola crop.
Where once a farm was a piece of land that a farmer and his family and maybe hired hands would be able to manage, now the farms are huge. Thousands of acres. Immense machinery; the farmers now managers and mechanics for mostly automated systems.
And the poor wretched towns. Towns so sad that it wouldn’t be fair to post a photo of them. Massive farms mean far less people to come to town. Main streets are empty, crumbling buildings. Not very many amenities. Nothing for kids to do. I’m sure there are folks who live in these towns who are proud of something. There are efforts to provide shady places to recreate. But big ag has destroyed these towns.
Today, we will enter coastal Washington and we’ll be back to more habitable spaces.
Jane
(Written in a room at the Quality Inn in Othello, WA where we are taking shelter from the merciless sun. Only the second motel room of the trip. The first, in Pennsylvania, was to take shelter from the merciless rain.)
Emma from a coffee shop and an earlier post mentioned Moscow Mountain as a worthy stop in Idaho. I can’t believe she didn’t rave on and on, so I will. Oddly this Mecca is nearly all private land, used for timbering etc, but there is public access allowed. A partnership of respect, support and collaboration by MAMBA/Moscow Area Mountain Bike Association allows access at this time. They volunteer, maintain and advocate while also encouraging following the simple rules. Wow, truly a model to follow.
The mountain is a forested Alpine treasure surrounded by fields and fields of agriculture and grazing. We had driven up from Southern ID through a valley and canyon under “extreme heat” warnings and our dash said it had peaked at 101 degrees F. That had prompted me to wrap the battery on Jane’s bike with a cheap foam and foil windshield protector a-la satellite to keep it cool. Thus also wondering whether riding that evening would make any sense at all. Well, sense-it-made! Like many after work rides where you wonder why you are going out and then end up having a great ride that restores your vitality and revives your interest in riding. Yep, that kind of ride, but even better.
This mountain is a magical Alpine world. Pines, huge Ponderosa Pines, firs and majestic Western Red Cedars stretch towering into the sky. Dark, cool corners within had us craning our eyes to see. There were views, but mostly dense, cool havens cut only by narrow twisting banked trails that create the comfort and confidence to keep climbing, keep seeking more. What A Place! What a magical, worth returning, magical place.
Our second day there was a bit different, punctuated by a perfect distant view of a moose and calf and the long climb back out of one of the lower sections of the park. (No pics of moose mama, we wanted to keep far away from her). The loop we chose was Overeasy a “green” trail and may well have been abandoned by the club awhile back. It was on the Trailforks map as well as the trail entry markers, but lacked any of its own trail markers. That, I think, should have been a clue. Combined, the access, loop and return, we descended then climbed over 3100′. The trail reminded me of very early 80’s-90’s riding on prior logging trails long since grown back in to a barely passable width. Jane and I both gathered a few small scratches to bear witness to our divided attention: 1) staying alive/on the trail, 2) avoiding fallen branches and overhanging deadfall.
The bridge not taken (and part of our suspicion this was an original old trail)
More than once we laughed at whether we were still, in fact, following the right trail. The Indian-guide part of me kept us on track, then confirmed by the computer-guide in the phone and we finished in 3-4 hours. Did get a phone call in the wild of all places from Phil, a dear new friend.
Not much explanation needed, but I often see trucks I cannot explain:
MaterThis is how you carry a “truck on a truck”Nice new carsBashed-up carsHay is for:HorsesA new lawna trailer to carry something Really heavyscary fertilizer?A second blade just to block the road for Rich, Al and Ray this Spring
David and Jane set out from Baltimore on May 18, 2025 for another big travel. This time, our “big” rig, The Tramper, is in temporary repose in West Virginia. Instead we’re in a 2010 Honda Odyssey, fitted out with a bed and lots of camping supplies. The Odessey, named Helen, is more nimble, frugal and stealthy than The Tramper. All good for a shorter trip.
In September 2012, David and Jane quit their jobs and traveled the country in their 1957 Yellowstone trailer, mountain biking, hiking, paddling, skiing and learning along the way. We carved out a 6 month sabbatical! It was AWESOME! Now, we’re back home and still blogging about the impact of our fabulous trip. And random stuff…
The Voyage of the Tramper 