By Tim
Montana has many fine attributes. Its interstate restrooms are not among them.
Of the 47 or so rest areas we availed ourselves of today, one had a water quality warning on the bathroom door. Coliform bacteria had been found in the drinking water. Now, I myself have had coliform bacteria in my drinking water when I lived in Jeremiah, Kentucky. It’s a common problem for folks on well systems, especially shallow wells. Nonetheless, it does set one back a bit when a rest area warns travelers about drinking the water.
The second rest area warning was far more dramatic. This was a sign advising visitors to stay on the sidewalks as rattlenakes had been seen in the area. Of all the signs I have seen at rest areas (no overnight parking, curb your dog, etc.) I found that this sign had a very good compliance rate. I know I stayed on the sidewalk. I’m pretty sure the kids did too, but you can never tell. I would advise groundskeepers trying to discourage walkers from taking shortcuts across the grass to try a sign like this.
We logged more than 700 miles today. I had planned on something more like 550, but turns out I had a small oversight in my calculations. Wyoming.
By Tim
Tomorrow we board the ferry, roll off onto the mainland at Annacortes, Washington, and start a 3,000-mile sprint back across the country.
But today, the sun sparkles on the water to the east. The glare hides Mt. Baker, 30 miles or so off in the distance of the North Cascades. The channel to the north is clear of the armada of weekend fishers who were here yesterday. And to the west, two sailboats are making their way toward Waldron Island.
But it’s time to make our best effort to find our things among the shoes, cameras, clothing, and paperbacks scattered around the house and start toward home.
Has anyone seen my other flipflop?
By Liz
They have a wonderful Farmer’s Market here in Eastsound on Saturdays. Actually, it’s way more than a Farmer’s Market. In addition to beautiful organic flowers and luscious locally grown vegetables, they have crafts, “happy” meats, musicians, and cooked foods like grilled oysters and homemade sausage. I bought some locally made chai tea, which was lovely.
We are into the last stretch of our stay here on the beautiful island of Orcas. That’s a bit sad, especially considering the fact that we have five long days in the car ahead of us. But it’s all rich, isn’t it?
A taste of the ocean in every shell
By Tim
The appetizer Thursday night at the Inn at Ship Bay was so good, I asked for the recipe. The waiter was obliging. Here’s what she said:
Go down to Judd Cove, grab a couple oysters from the sound, shuck, and eat. Lemon juice or melted butter, optional.
Actually, the oysterman might frown on your taking oysters directly from his beds. So it’s better — not to mention more convenient — to purchase a dozen or so at the gas station, which has them on ice out front. You can get them for 50 cents a piece.
Fresh, salty, with a slight taste of mint …
These are extraordinary oysters. They start out fresh and salty, and then there’s a slightly minty taste. Just when you think this is a GREAT oyster, the suprise comes. The taste of the sea wafts through in an earthy combination that hints at seaweed, mud (good tasting mud, if you can imagine), and sea foam. For those who love oysters, they are a treat beyond compare.
… And then a wonderful taste of the sea
So last night, Maggie and I “cooked” the appetizers for dinner. The verdict was unanimous. Among oyster lovers (who constitute 3 of 9 of us), it’s all grins.
WHALE!
One of the many incredible shots of the Orca whales we saw on our whale watch. One came right at us and dove underneath the boat! And, showing off my knew knowledge of Orcas, I can tell you that the one on the right is a male (the long dorsal fin) and the two on the left are both female… however, the one in the distance may not be female… hard to tell….
-Graham
An unfortunate dog shakes after a torturous dip in the frigid waters Cascade Lake at Moran State Park
By Tim
Abby, our dog, didn’t make the trip. She’s visiting friends on the West Norris Commons. Reports are that she is having a good time, but she does miss us, usually around supper time and 5 a.m.
Abby has been reading about our trip on this blog and emailed recently to ask that we include some posts geared toward her interests.
Abby, you would have loved the Western national parks. We know how you like to chase deer in our yard. What fun you would have had with buffalo, elk, antelope, moose, and black bear. And what fun these mega-fauna would have had with you!
Cute? Yes. Happy? We don’t think so
I’m sure you would have enjoyed sleeping four to a tent in 40 degree weather (Liz purchased her sleeping bag with you in mind). And, since they don’t allow pets on national park trails, you would have enjoyed many sunny, warm afternoons napping in the hot van while we explored the park. (And we would have enjoyed paying the fines for leaving you in the van alone.)
And the hotels, well, let’s just say we know how much you enjoy the sounds and smells of the few hotels that do take pets. And obviously the other hotel guests would have enjoyed your sounds and smells, too.
But, alas, we have had to make our own fun and excitement without you, Abby. We’ve done as well as we could, under the circumstances. And we trust that you are doing the same.
We have seen a few dogs on the trip, most recently at the Cascade Lake beach at Moran State Park here on Orcas Island. These dogs only appear to be having fun. We’re sure they would rather be curled up at home on someone’s lap, blogging and emailing their friends, and yapping to go out. And in. And out.
See you, soon, Abby.
More miserable dogs endure the beach
Maggie watches one of three eagles we saw this morning.
By Tim
For the past couple of mornings, we’ve awakened to the screech of eagles around the house. Today, what appeared to be a mating pair and their mottled, large fledgling treated us to some fly-bys.
All the ingredients for outstanding eagle habitat are here in the San Juan Islands:
- Tall trees and rocks for perches and aeries.
- Plenty of fish for food.
- An adoring public for adulation.
We have done our best to provide the third ingredient above.
I didn’t have any luck capturing images of the eagles this morning. I was much more successful at capturing collateral activities — Maggie out on the point watching the eagles in the distance. (I did, however, get a shot of this bald eagle on Cascade Lake the next day.) 
The apparent family of eagles took turns wheeling out over the water and heading back to perch in the trees on either side of the point. They call to each other when they are on the move.
“Look sharp, there, Jr. What did I tell you about coming in for a landing too fast?”
“Ah, Mom …”
Perhaps I am anthropomorphizing. But Jr. must be the eagle equivalent of a teen-ager.
Sunset from Pt. Thompson
Now the day is over
Night is drawing night
Shadows of the evening
Steal across the sky
Sabine Baring-Gould, 1867
My sense of “calm and sweet repose” was heightened having eaten some of the world’s best oysters, plucked earlier in the afternoon from East Sound, seasoned to perfection by nothing but Nature’s own hand and ingredients.
– Tim
Teen-age orca surfaces along the west side of San Juan Island.
Several pods of orcas make their home in the waters near Orcas Island. Perhaps this doesn’t surprise you, given the name of the island. But what is a surprise is the chance to see these mammals doing their thing out in the Strait of Juan de Fuca.
July 9 we rode the Orcas Express whalewatching boat from Orcas Village around the southern tip of San Juan Island out into the Strait. There we saw at least two pods of orcas.
Those who are familiar with the orca families can tell one individual from the next by the notches and shapes of their dorsal fins (sort of like an organic bar scan code, I guess). The approximate ages of the whales ranged from the matriach named Granny, who is estimated to be more than 90 years old (I think they get this from her Social Security records) to a couple young tikes who are just a few months old.
Baby orca follows mommy
The strait was full of whales today. We followed small parts of one particular pod as they fed and worked their way down a section of the island known as the American Camp. Other boats far in the distance watched other whales. Many of the professional boats, such as the one we are on, work with whale researchers and follow guidelines for how close they get to the whales. (We had a whale museum staff member and a college student doing summer research on our vessel with us, in addition to the crew). We did see one private craft get a little too close at full throttle, but in general the whale watching was far less intrusive than the bear jams and moose moshes we saw in national parks, in my perspective. But, of course, I don’t know whether the whales or moose would agree with this analysis.
Here she/he comes (click for full image)
Syncronized swimming (clickable)
One more time (clickable)
These pods of orcas dine on salmon, a couple hundred pounds a day for an adult whale. I hope they are getting a volume discount, because this adds up to several thousand dollars’ worth of salmon a day. No wonder the commercial fishers used to try to scare them off with sticks of dynamite. No such harrassment is allowed today, however. (Another type of orca, which we didn’t see, eats small marine mammals and roams the oceans, unlike our stay-at-home salmon munchers.)
As fate would have it, our excursion lasted from about 1:30 to 4:30 p.m. In other words, a three hour tour (”a three hour tour”). Unlike the passengers of the S.S. Minnow, however, the weather didn’t even think about getting rough, and we were back on shore for a fine supper at Bilbo’s in Eastsound shortly after 5.
Headed for home (clickable). Walker, Liz, Emma, Graham, and Paul (clockwise from top).
Can you believe they let Liz borrow this hat for the ENTIRE cruise? (Clickable, of course). Wendy, left, brought her own chapeau.
WE’RE FINALLY AT ORCAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
And we celebrate it by plunging into icy cold water at the cove near our house. The insane people went first (Paul, Walker, Wendy, Liz, and Nog ((the new name for Big Liz)) ) and then the utterly sane and sensible people went last (Emma and me).
-Graham