solstice parade

It happens every year, there is a day that is shorter than all the other days. If you have a hobby that depends on daylight then you gotta be quick about your business. For surfers, a two session day is not common, just get in the water and take advantage of the swell that is in the ocean.

light and snow

The solstice is just around the corner. The light in the sky tends to be a good indicator of the season changing from warm to cold; dynamic clouds and soft sunrises. One thing is for sure, snow in the mountains means it's winter.

Highway 101, near Lake Crescent.

Looking East, between Kingston and Edmonds.

Dirtyface, Lake Wenatchee.

november 2

Stand on a roof in Port Angeles at dawn and look around, until then and if you never have the chance. Strait of Juan de Fuca on the far left, Hurricane Ridge and the Olympic Mountains on the right.

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Yolo Banks

Summertime. The livin' is easy but finding waves ain't. In order to make it even harder, we hike six miles to a little cove that gets locked in at high tide. Little to no beta on the spot and variable surf forecast leading up to the hike, we figure we'll go for and see what we get. Yolo.

New spots become even more difficult to dial in with the pea soup.

KB, always a man of color.

This fella is hanging on, but some of his friends are disintegrating.

The rig, ghost ride the whip.

The bomb seaweed.

Rob and his stead.

All kooks to the peak!

Camp, felt like the lost boys up on the bluff.

Noodles, dogs, and chili. Grill came with the kitchen.

Scary story time.

backcountry

Spending more time working and camping in the backcountry this summer. Same valley, Sol Duc, different section of the trail leading up to the High Divide and views of Mt. Olympus. Lots of rock moving and dirt hauling. Evenings around the fire sharing stories and picking on each other. Some food we share, most of it we hoard to ourselves. Watching our pile of canned beans and tomatoes turn into a pile of cans burned clean by the fire. Drying wet clothes when the weather allows. It's a different kind of fun, the kind you feel damp, gritty, and worn out during, and romanticize weeks later. In reality it's just a half decent way to get paid to be outside.

Mt. Olympus, from the High Divide. Clouds blocked the view moments later.

Choaty and Horse fitting rocks into turnpike.

"Show me your rock-work face."

Camp, afternoon light filtered through the canopy.

My plastic house and dirty laundry. Discarded packaging of a good meal.

Sol Duc River. Bathtub and faucet.

9 July

The view looking south from Appleton Pass. Mt. Olympus, The High Divide, and Seven Lakes Basin.

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warmer

The transition from season to season is often a blur. Nature has pleasant ways of showing us that we're turning the corner. Garden gnome or Morel?

bygone

We drive up the logging road and expect to see the deserted lookout. A Dodge Sprinter is blocking the view, rear doors open, a man sitting over a cook stove, peering at us through the crack between the door and and the vehicle's body. We eye each other the way strangers do upon first meeting. His name is Thomas, and his dog, Jefferson. They've been on the road for two weeks from West Hollywood, and here we are, camping together near the edge of the continental US.

Thomas shares his meal with us, tells us about his life, and invites us over to his van later to play music with his guitar, bongos, and keyboard he powers with a battery charged from a solar panel. We invite him to share our campfire. He offers us vodka infused with honey from the bees he keeps. We offer him razor clam ceviche our roommate made. He asks us about life in Washington, surfing, and what drives us. We ask him about his trip, the van, and Jefferson. It's a moment from a bygone era, a time when people travelled simply, camping together, and sharing food, stories, and the road.

The view, looking West Northwest.

Thomas has been learning the flow arts.

Jefferson, friend and security system.

Poi spinning, one of the ways Thomas flows.

Living in a car or driving a home, either way he's got a cozy setup.

wildnesser

Two weeks ago three hundred WCC service members descended upon Cispus Learning Center just west of White Pass for elective training. I chose Introduction to Wilderness Survival put on by Alderleaf Wilderness College. Some of the more interesting things we went over were making fire with friction, debris shelter construction, water filtration, and wild edibles. I spent one damp night in my sodden shack and learned how you can't have too much insulating material. While I shivered through the night I learned how great fire is. I also learned that fire ants must have the same chemical composition as Shock Tarts. I doubt I'll ever find myself in a situation where I need to set up a new life for myself in the woods, but now I pack extra matches.

Taylor, an empowering moment.

Sam, hunkered down for the night.

Tripod filtration, grass, sand, charcoal, mixed with Oregon Grape to combat Giardia.

Looking for protein packed grubs.

Fire ants, squish the head, these guys bite back.

Cucumber of the woods, Indian Plum.

dark months

We are coming to the end of the dark months. Winter is a time for short sessions outside with retreats into warm homes, hot beverages, and hearty meals. Though the hours of the day are small, the moments spent in the light are that much more memorable.

Vancouver Island across the Strait. 

Upper Elwha River.

Boot packing in the Olympics.

Somewhere in Canada.

Grays Harbor and the Olympics.

Boot packing for waves.

Bailey Range, from Hurricane Ridge.

schooner adventuress

During the week of Martin Luther King Day we take a break from our normal routine of river restoration to do some work in the community. This year we spent a day working with Sound Experience on the Schooner Adventuress in Port Townsend. The Adventuress was built in Maine to catch a whale in Alaska, never caught that whale, joined the pilot fleet in San Francisco Bay, then a coast guard ship during World War II, and ended up in Seattle around 1952 where it eventually became a vessel to teach youth about sailing. Every winter it spends time out of the water for maintenance. The crew was hyped on the work we accomplished, and we were hyped to switch it up and spend time away from the woods.

From the stern, dry docked for the winter.

Ryan and Chelsea, painting the hull.

Blocks and hull, to be sanded and repainted.

 Matt was bored in Virginia and came out West to work on the ship.

On the deck, fresh varnish on the wood.

Salty seas are rough on the hull. Scaffold zone.

Zach, first mate, stoked on his job.

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