Big Four Ice Caves

In August, we went on a day trip northeast to the Mt Baker-Snoqualmie National Forest, which covers part of the Cascade Ranges. We drove ninety minutes from Seattle for an easy hike with the kids, and to see the Big Four Ice Caves.

The hike itself is a super-kids friendly one. It's only a mile each way (from the car park to the ice caves), and not much in the way of incline. There is a path - and at one point, a boardwalk - to follow the entire way, with the only obstructions being tree roots here and there to step over. In fact, the hike is listed as wheelchair/stroller accessible, but I think that's slightly optimistic. I saw enough families lifting their strollers up and over the tree roots to think that it looked like a pain. In terms of ease for young kids though, they can walk it. Miss Pie managed fine on the way to the ice caves, only wanting to be picked up for part of the hike back to the car park - and that was mostly due to the fact that she'd run around like a lunatic at the base of the ice caves, and worn herself out.

The scenery was incredible and varied along such a brief trail. At the start, we could see patches of snow still at the top of Big Four Mountain. From my understanding, it's that snow which melts and trickles down a nearby glacier and creates hollowed out channels underneath, resulting in the ice caves at the base of the mountain. The trail continues across a marshy wetland area, over a river, through cedar-filled woods, gradually replaced by wildflowers, then out to an open gravel area in front of the ice caves.

Despite the number of people walking in and out of the ice caves, and letting their kids climb on the ice, there were numerous signs which pointed out the possible danger of falling boulders and chunks of ice (a young girl was killed by a falling boulder only a few years ago). I'll be honest though: my curiosity was pretty strong, and if we didn't have the girls with us, I probably would have gone inside for a wander. I blame Instagram.

Walking around the entrances was surreal, even from a few hundred metres away. You know when you're in the ocean, and you hit pockets of warm water, compared with the rest? The air around the ice caves was like that - for the most part chilly and refreshing on a warm day, with unexpected patches of warmer air.

It's a given that I took far too many photos. I brought the DSLR along, as well as my phone, and the images below are a mix from the two. With the exception of the first photo (Instagrammed), none of these have been edited or filtered. The clouds passed over and changed the light a fair bit, which accounts for the difference in brightness.

Beautiful, n'est-ce pas? Something about this landscape gave me flashbacks to being in the Swiss Alps - as in, so beautiful it brought a lump to my throat.

November musings

Ma'am

For my first few years in the US, whenever someone addressed me as "Ma'am", I couldn't help but turn and look behind me, certain that there must be an older woman standing nearby. Ma'am just isn't used in Australia, so my associations with that word are purely based on American films and TV shows. I certainly never felt like a ma'am... and then the other day as I was on a stroll, a male driver pulled up and asked me for directions. He addressed me as ma'am, and I liked it. I especially love the way people from the South use it so frequently.

It's one of those words that seems to be used out of respect and politeness, and I've come to appreciate that. Outside of the US, there's a stereotype about Americans being rude and without manners but that hasn't been my experience while living here. I'll admit that I used to hold those same preconceptions about Americans, but living here has changed that.


Nature 

The current autumnal weather means the grounds are overloaded with leaves, and it's beautiful. About a week ago, we had a huge windstorm overnight which pretty much took our power out for most of the weekend (not cool, Seattle, not cool - especially at this time of year). Something that feels odd at times, though, is sweeping or vacuuming the pine needles that get tracked into our home. For me, pine needles indoors has only ever been in connection with having a real Christmas tree, so - without a Christmas tree in sight yet - I can't help but smile when I find pine needles on our floor.

Another aspect of living in such a damp environment is the sheer amount of moss everywhere. It makes me grateful to be living in a building which isn't sheltered by trees, as I've seen a lot of green fuzzy rooftops around. In addition to the moss, I've now become aware of lichens - something I'd never really encountered (or at least noticed) in the past. Bare trees are now sprouting lichens up and down their trunks and along branches, and wooden fences are covered the same way. The soft blue-green delicate patterns remind me of snowflakes, and I'm finding myself peering for closer glimpses on my walks.

Going for walks isn't something I'm doing a great deal of these days. The cold and wet isn't something I've embraced yet, so I'm feeling a little like a hermit. Today, I thought Well, we've got months and months and months of this to go, so it's time to put your big girl panties on and go for a walk in the rain with Miss Pie. Deal with it. Get used to it.

So we did... and it was even less of an adventure than I'd hoped for. When we left the house, it was lightly raining and although we each had raincoats on, Miss Pie wanted to bring an umbrella too. Part of me was thinking, but if we're going to be locals, we have to learn not to bother with umbrellas... and then the other part of me reminded myself, fuck it, you hate water streaming off the top of your hood and into yours eyes... so the umbrellas won.

Then only two blocks down the hill, the whining began. Her umbrella was tricky to carry. She didn't want it up. She didn't want it down. She didn't want to carry it. Water was seeping into her boots through brand new holes at the heels (a record time for new boots not lasting). Her socks were getting wet and sticky. She didn't want sticky feet. Her hands were cold. Her mittens were getting wet.

At that point, we were more than halfway to the destination I had in mind (a French bakery) so I pushed on... and then the mother of all deluges kicked in. No amount of umbrellas or raincoats or functional boots could have kept us comfortably warm or dry. Once we got to the bakery, hot chocolate, coffee and pastries saved the day. We warmed up, watched the rain get even heavier out the windows, thanked our lucky stars that we were inside, and then waited for the rain to ease. The pastries were so good, I was tempted to just spend the entire afternoon there, stuffing my face.

Thankfully, by the time we made our getaway, the rain did stop. It was a steep hill back home, and I braced myself for even more whining... but with the rain gone, suddenly everything in Miss Pie's world was hunky dory. Puddles to stomp in (wet socks be damned). Slushy piles of leaves to kick. More puddles. More leaves. Water-droplet enhanced spider webs to admire. Gurgling storm water drains to watch.

The walk back home was the walk I'd been hoping for when we'd first set off.

I'm not sure how many months of cold wetness I can handle though. People here - other transplants - tell me the first winter is the hardest. Locals - born and bred - laugh and tell me every winter sucks.

High time I learned to make mulled wine then. I have a feeling I'll be needing it...

Pacific Northwestern tourists

I've been going through photos from this summer, and realised I've barely touched the surface with what I've shared here. Time to fix that.

We discovered fairly early on that it's an easy trip to Downtown Seattle on the public transport - a five minute walk to a bus stop, a direct bus ride for about twenty-five minutes, and then we're smack bang in the centre of it all. I am extra appreciative of this, given we've just had more than three years of crappy, almost non-existent, indirect public transport in Los Angeles. Until L.A, I had been a frequent - if not daily - user of buses, trains and trams in every other city I've lived in. It's nice to have that option again.

Number 1 tourist destination in Seattle, am I right? This, or the Space Needle.

The Gum Wall in Post Alley, near Pike Place Market. And yes, it smelled... bad.

Seattle Central Library - possibly one of the coolest buildings ever.

The view from Kerry Park.

We also squeezed in a weekend visit to Portland, where we stayed with old friends and mostly hung out in their front garden. On our last day, we took all the kids out to a pick-your-own farm in Oregon, and arrived back in Seattle with several full (and mushy - it was a hot day) bags of strawberries and blackberries.

Last month, we briefly explored a massive state forest - 482 acres - close to home. By close to home, I mean hop in the car and drive less than ten minutes. Unbelievably close. It has a number of trails and is bordered by stables so during our walk, we were overtaken occasionally by a horse and its rider. I can't imagine a more beautiful place to go horse riding, surrounded by firs, maples, hemlocks, birch, and ferns.  The entire park is forest - trees stretching so high that the ground rarely saw daylight (judging from the amount of moss, mushrooms and the damp fungal smell). I kept intending to return solo for more walks, but never managed it this month. I know I should make the effort one Saturday morning, and now that I've got myself some hardy new boots, I have no excuse.

X-Files flashbacks, anyone?

The elephant seals

Being the Christmas break and all, we decided on a whim that we should get out of L.A. for a day or two, and see some Californian sights we hadn't seen before. What to do? Those nearby snow-capped peaks were calling, but we don't have proper snow gear yet - this needed to be a road trip on a budget. We've been to San Diego several times, and also seen the Mojave Desert.

Hearst Castle, in San Simeon, has been on our wish list for a while so we decided to head north, mostly along the coast.

San Simeon is on the central Californian coast, pretty much half way between San Francisco and Los Angeles. From either city, it takes about 4 - 4.5 hours to drive, so this sleepy little town actually does a mean business in tourism from both cities. We arrived in San Simeon on Thursday afternoon, and the hotel manager recommended seeing the castle the following morning, when it would be less windy on the hill. No problem, because we discovered that the same stretch of coast also happens to be home to an elephant seal rookery and we knew that the girls - the Faery in particular - would dig that.

We dumped our things in our little hotel room, rubbing hands with glee that the ocean was just a one-minute walk outside our door (the Faery was most anxious about the waves engulfing us overnight), and anticipated a cosy night in with the sound of the waves crashing in the background. After letting the girls burn off steam after such a long drive, we jumped back in the car and - five minutes later - were admiring the elephant seals.

By this time, the sun was getting low and the light was incredible. It hadn't even occurred to me until then that we'd be able to watch the sun set over the Pacific Ocean - my mind is still a little skewed from growing up on the East Coast of Australia, where the sun rises over the Pacific. Anyhow, the light was incredible, so between my DSLR and iPhone, I took a ridiculous amount of photos.

In between happy-snapping, we giggled a great deal over these animals. I'll admit I knew next to nothing about elephant seals but after observing them as the sun went down, I made it my mission to read up on them that night, once the girls were tucked up in bed and sleeping (the cosy budget accommodation meant that watching TV in bed wasn't really an option if we wanted them to sleep).

At the rookery, there was a long (fenced-off) path for people to view the elephant seals down on the beach. I couldn't believe how many were on the sand, and there was a section with about a dozen mumma elephant seals and pups, sucking. The beach stretched as far as the eye could see, and dotted with elephant seals the entire length. The section closest to the viewing path seemed to be where the females and their young stayed, along with several males (seriously ugly dudes, by the way). In the distance, there were mostly males, often sparring and fighting. The sounds that emitted from these animals had to be heard to be believed. I thought that were doing a lot of belching and farting, but since learned that much of their vocalisations sound like one long series of massively reverberating burps.

In other words, comedy gold.

Once the sun had well and truly dipped behind the horizon, any lingering traces of warmth disappeared so we huddled back to the car. As we were leaving, the (large, round) moon began to peek over the hills on the other side of the road, to the east. It felt magical.

That night, as the girls slept, I devoured the pamphlets we'd collected and was somewhat in awe of what I learned about these huge creatures. In a nutshell:

- They spend 9-10 months of the year in the ocean, up in Alaska.

- From late November until March, they set up rookery on this particular stretch of Californian beach. They began coming about twenty years ago, and each year the numbers increase. Current stats show that around 17, 000 elephant seals come to this particular rookery.

- The males often weigh over two tonnes. The females clock in at around 640 kg.

- Starting from mid-December, the females give birth on the beach. The peak time for births is in January, but we spotted over at least a dozen newborn pups on the beach already (and incredibly adorable, at that).

- Giving birth only takes half an hour! Then the pups are weaned when they're only a month old. At that point, the females are ready to mate again. Because the elephant seals are fasting during this period of birthing and nursing, they lose a massive amount of weight. When they mate again, implantation delays until about May, when the females have bulked up again to sustain pregnancy.

- The mother seals spend a lot of time 'vocalising' to their pups, so that the pups will recognise their voices if they get separated.

- An alpha male essentially has a harem, and can impregnate up to fifty females in one season.

- During the peak season in January, the beach becomes so packed that the elephant seals are lying on top of one another, jostling for sand and packed in like sardines.

... and that's about all the facts that my brain was able to absorb, but it was rather interesting to read up on. You've got to love learning new things, right?

The next morning we went for a stroll on the beach by the hotel, lingered over breakfast, checked out, then headed to Hearst Castle. The smart thing for us would have been to reserve our tour tickets online beforehand, but being a spontaneous trip, we weren't that smart organised. A shame, because tours for the next three hours were sold out. There was no way we could hang around that long to wait, but rather than get all pissy and moaning about it, we simply made our way back for a second visit to the elephant seals. San Simeon is a long drive when there are two young kids strapped in the back, but I have a feeling we'll get back there one day. We fantasise about driving all the way up to the Pacific Northwest some day (friends to visit in both Portland and Seattle now), and if we do, San Simeon will be our first stop.

It's a beautiful corner of the world.

Going bush

As much as we loved our time in Sydney, it was a great recharge to spend time down the coast at my parents' place. Not only do they live minutes away from over a dozen incredible beaches, but they're surrounded by bushland. The drive from Sydney also takes us through dairy country, providing the girls with plenty of cow-spotting opportunities.

My first full day back in Australia, the day after our arrival drama (which can be read about here and here), was heralded with plenty of kookaburra songs nearby. Nothing makes me feel like I'm home more than hearing those birds. Over the next few weeks, we were able to see kookaburras, cockatoos, galahs, rainbow lorikeets, rosellas and pelicans. All such beautiful birds, and all in their natural habitats. We also saw shy kangaroos grazing grass and hopping away. After a couple of zoo visits, we were able to check even more native animals off the list that the Faery had going.

So... all good. Lots of recharging the soul and getting in touch with our roots. I feel a little sad that I don't know when I'll be hearing kookaburras again, but I had more than a generous fix of them during our holiday.

I have one more post to do about our time away, then it'll be back to the same old - life in LaLa Land, along with whatever random musings I have to throw in. We've been back less than three weeks... but it feels more like a couple of months. Not sure if that's a good thing, or a bad thing.