Hurricane Ridge Trip

Standing on the porch at the lodge at Hurricane Ridge in the
Olympic National Park, Port Angeles, WA.

I think I smell snow in that leaden sky.

   The last trip to Hurricane Ridge was on Beloved's Harley under sunny skies and of course the road up there was dry and clear.

Mt.Olympus is off to the right, past the snow-made polar bear.

   Today it was snow-covered and, in at least two places, had tree debris from trees dislodged with by snow or wind.
 
   And this time it required chains on tires, so I wasn't about to put myself through that experience again. (I think the last time was from my house in East Fork heading toward Ketchum in Idaho.)

Looking eastward, sort of toward Seattle, WA.

 
   So I rode up with a shuttle service and a trip that should have taken about an hour was almost twice that with a faulty chain install on a rear tire that went "whap-whap-whap" for 18 miles up and 18 miles back.

    It was impressive at the top, though.
   Over a week of steady snow and wind with periodic mild warmings had created some very long icicles and snow statues from trees that were totally covered.

   I stepped off a path for cross-country skiers and sunk down to my waist... and the snow was really blue even a short distance down.

I love this color blue under these circumstances. I think it
might be less appealing if it was much deeper and I was in it.

   The most fun was enjoying the smell of snow, the crunch under my feet, and my body was remembering the guarded expectation of putting on skis, heading off for a powdery run, the wonderful exhilaration of feeling the weight shift back and forth while whooshing downhill.

The lodge to the left has an overlook spot below,
but it is covered in snow up to about six feet.

   When my kids try to encourage me to take up skiing again I explain that it's not a sport for seniors who have stopped it for a decade, and besides, it's significantly more expensive to rent all that gear now that it was 10 years ago... and just for a one-weekend experience?

   I have skied in N.H., Vermont (Suicide Six, especially), Massachusetts, Idaho, Calif., Canada and Austria. I have skied with some of the most interesting folks when I worked at Sun Valley and that includes volunteering with the Ski Patrol.

   Getting older should mean getting wiser, too.

   And so when I had my last downhill ski trip with the Scottsdale Sail and Ski Club, I decided it was time to enjoy it to the fullest and then sell my equipment.

   The two close calls I had with other skiers who were skiing out of control only confirmed it was time I did just that.

"Sandy Banks" in a snow bank...

Halfway down the ridge, after the tunnels, looking down on
Sequim, WA and Puget Sound.

   I can still cross-country ski or snowshoe, and perhaps I will do more of that this winter.

Unknown couple heading off on the Cross Country trail.

There is still a lot I can do to enjoy the times I go out into wintry weather, and I hope, dear readers, you have enjoyed this trip into a wintry wonder just a short distance from Sequim.

A White Christmas... really!

Snow sticking to moss-covered branches - Sequim, WA

 According to the National Weather Service, in order to qualify for the "White Christmas" label, the event must have "one inch or more on the ground, sticking" and so today, Dec. 25, I went in search of my White Christmas.

I found it about half an hour from my home, up on Palo Alto Road in Sequim, WA. Slushy roads and all, there was plenty of snow that was sticking and more was coming down as well.

I liked the deep red of the structure nearly matching the same
color of the branches in contrast to the deeper green of the trees.

My updated Canon EOS Rebel was up to the task of recording this momentous event, but I realized after a brief sojourn in the white stuff that I do not have the same desire I had decades ago for hanging out in it for as long a time as I used to do.

Perhaps I need to do more walking about... but the damp cold made its way into my feet and hands all too quickly and I was more than ready to return to the heated seats of my front-wheel drive vehicle.

The temperature was staying low enough to keep the road
covered and for the precipitation to fall as snow, not rain.

As we go about our lives, on what might appear to be a gloomy day, if we look closely we can see the subtle colors of life making lovely patterns. It is really about how we choose to see things, and the difficulty with folks who are struggling with mental illnesses or brain disorders is that their ability to appreciate is flawed - they are not. If I was a lot younger I think I would try to find a way to help these people divert their brain channels to the prettier and more colorful aspects.

This was a solitary Christmas as all my children were in different places and I used my time well. I did not feel sad or sorry for myself for the time alone. I slept late and made myself a colorful omelet, went out and took some photographs and later was invited to a small gathering.

As the day is winding down, I realize that it has been just what I wanted for Christmas... a day of peace and joy. I hope each of you are finding some of that for yourselves as well.

This last photo seems to sum up my day... surrounded by
other trees, I still am a single, somewhat different version.

Lady Walpole's Reel

    I was about 12 when I started square dancing with Duke Miller calling the Saturday dances at the Peterborough Country Club in Peterborough, N.H.
    Eventually I discovered that I liked contra dancing better and gradually left squares behind for the most part. I still do go to them, but contra is where my heart is.
 
    One of my favorite contra forms is the Lady Walpole's Reel and so when I was considering my first stint as a caller, that had to be my first pattern.
    There is an event here in the Olympic Peninsula area called the Bob Boardman Memorial Contra, always the first Saturday in December, to honor a remarkable musician and to support scholarships for those who will carry on the musical torch of fiddling. (Follow the link to learn more about it.)

    This is a time when new musicians are invited to join the band and for new callers to have a go on stage. So I'd been thinking about doing this for awhile.

    But with my life being as busy as it is, I had been postponing practicing until mid-afternoon when I realized if I was going to be on stage, I'd better get somewhat prepared...
    Thus, I went looking for music for the reel so I could practice calling to it, knowing there was every likelihood I would have to call to another reel tune.

    What was the first thing that popped up?
    My mother playing the piano with Newt Tolman and his flute on a YouTube rendition (just the music, no video) in a lovely quick version of the Lady Walpoles Reel. (Here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X3UQc4lHWBg )

    It is interesting that their recording calls it "Ladies Walpole Reel" but Ralph Page always referred to it as I have titled this entry, saying that the reel was designed so that Lady Walpole was not required to dance much with her husband... partners in the dance formation do not dance with each other (swinging) until the very last call.

    Then I found Duke Miller's version, recorded back one summer a really long time ago. (You can listen to it here: http://www.configular.com/duke/tunes/C1_LadyWalpolesReel.mp3.)
    And as I wrote down his calls, listened to the music and thought about it, a niggling little voice was saying, "Man, this is harder than I thought."

    But I went to the dance, and Carol Piening, who was calling tonight, was very encouraging and coached me before everyone arrived.

Dancers at the Black Diamond Community Hall, Port Angeles, WA, doing
the Lady Walpole Reel (circa 1872) called by Yours Truly.

Photo by Jenna Rose

    After everyone was warmed up with a variety of dances, she said, "We are welcoming to the stage someone who has been dancing for 50 years and will be making her debut as a caller...."

    Introducing the dance, I said, "I want to dedicate this dance to my mother, Kay Gilbert, who was, in her own right, a great musician and who loved the music enough to help keep it going."

(She, with Newt Tolman, produced The Nelson Music Collection, saving some historic music by documenting it for the first time. Here is a link to the publication: http://www.amazon.com/Nelson-Music-Collection-Renn-Tolman/dp/1630419176, which now has a CD with it, thanks to his son, Renn Tolman's efforts.)

The Possom Carvers, Scott Marcksx, on fiddle, Chris Cooper, guitar,
(Jeannie Murphy was missing from the group) me and Carol Peining (hidden),
was coaching me to make sure I didn't rush the dancers. What a great group!

Photo by Jenna Rose

    And after a brief instruction to the dancers, the music began... I don't know what the name was for the first reel played, but when they switched to the Queen Anne Reel, (also known as St. Anne's Reel) I was   hearing Kay and Newt again... transported, I relaxed, got into the rhythm, easily calling the dance though to the end...

    After it was over, I was speaking to Carol about the importance the last piece of music had for me. Then Scott, the fiddle player, said the last piece was the first one he ever learned. It turned out that Carol knows Dudley Laufman and knew about Kay and Newt and the Collection... and round and round it went...

    I truly felt as if Kay and Newt were with me, that I was being guided and supported in the most mystical way, and after it was all over, even now as I write this, I realize what a gift this evening was.