Travels with Wayne, not waning...

The month of July started pretty fast with lots of dancing and social events, but things have picked up even more since then.

I met a guy who loves to travel and before long we were planning a shake-down cruise in his 40-ft. motor home, hereinafter referred to as the RV. For the few days leading up to the journey, there was a lot of discussion about what to wear, what to bring, what to leave behind, what foods we might want and several demonstrations of on-board equipment. I could tell that my sailing experiences were going to come in handy.

Wayne Ratcliff, standing tall with his buddy.

Wayne is a former forester/farmer with a lot of sensibility about a lot of things, so I trusted his judgment and as he began to realize that he had an 8-year veteran of live-aboard sailing, he began to trust mine. Transitioning from a 45-sailboat to a 40-ft RV is really relatively easy. Except for pulling up the anchor and setting sail, the routines for getting under way are similar.

We started from Sequim, WA, on Aug. 2 with a nearly full tank of gas. As we headed for Forks, WA, his former stomping grounds, we talked a bit about what each of us wants to find in sharing this RV journey. Wayne is an accomplished square dancer, so we will be taking in a lot of dances wherever we go. He is also very involved in ancestry and genealogy. 

I am a photographer and a watercolor artist who wants to build up her bank of resources for future art efforts. And both of us like history, so museums and opportunities to learn more about people, places and things is quite agreeable.

I love seeing that tiny tree starting to grow near the
enormous tailhold block used for moving logs.

So it is no surprise that we went to the Forks Timber Museum at 1421 S. Forks Ave., right on the way toward Lake Quinault and Westport, our final destination. 

This wonderful labor of love for the timber industry is open daily year-round with a steadily growing collection of all the bits and pieces that made Washington State one of the leaders in wood products and Forks the “logging capital of the world” (Museum quote).

This early farm tractor is one of many timber and farm tools
from the era found in the museum.

Early settlers of the ‘West End’ of Washington logged the abundant old growth trees by hand and with the help of teams of oxen in the 1870s. But as the trees were discovered (Cedar, Sitka Spruce and Douglas Fir) with their unique properties, the demand grew. Michael Earles, called the timber baron and developer of the first Sol Duc Hot Springs Resort, was responsible for setting up logging camps in the early 1900s providing work for hundreds of men and women. While the men were out falling, bucking, yarding, loading and hauling timber, the women were cooking, washing, working in cedar shake mills (losing fingers) and tending farms and gardens to help their men survive.

Wayne used to milk cows so he had no
trouble explaining what this device is.
(For those who don't know, it's attached
to the udder to milk the cow. One of the
first automated milking devices.)

Display of a typical bunkhouse in the logging camp.

By 1914, the demand for Sitka Spruce for airplanes intensified with the advent of World War I and it wasn’t long before the U.S. Army had built a railroad from Port Angeles to Lake Pleasant providing a quicker way to get the trees off the mountains and into the mills. 

The camp kitchen was critical to a successful logging operation. The men
eat lots of carbs and protein to keep their energy up for working in the timber
industry.

In the museum you can see an example of a typical bunk house, camp kitchen, explanations for some of the tools used, a lookout tower (for fire fighting) as well as a memorial wall for those who died in the forest and in other ways during the growth of this industry.

Linda Offett is in charge of the museum; she's on my left.
We are standing in front of a reclaimed observation fire
lookout station.

The museum charges only a few dollars to come in and browse, read, ask questions and learn more about the timber industry that made Forks and much of the West End what it is today.

Forks doubled in size during the boom years and now is better known for its role in the movie series “Twilight.” It is still finding its legs and direction now that logging has diminished significantly, but it is still a place worth visiting and especially taking at least an hour from driving to enjoy a special museum honoring the timber industry  past.

Joe Offett, Wayne Ratcliff, me and Linda Offett as we prepare to head
further south after a great visit.

Forks Museum website: forkstimbermuseum.org.

Solstice 2017

A Great Blue Heron fishes in Sequim Bay, WA.

All promises of warmer weather by the National Weather Service in Seattle are suspect now. We have been hearing from them that that "tomorrow is going to be significantly warmer than yesterday," for weeks and I don't call a 4 degree increase particularly significant.

The heron takes off for other fishing locations.

The heron doesn't care as long as the fishing is good. But we are under grey skies again and I have to reorder another bottle of Vitamin D - sigh. My happiness factor is not weather-dependent, but my gardening is suffering from limited sun exposure. The bees have been doing their due-diligence in pollinating, but the flowers seem droopy.

Last year, I never even went swimming in Lake Crescent because there was not enough sunshine to warm up even the top layer close to the beach. Coupled with snowpack running off this year, I cannot begin to forecast a day when I might willingly put my toe into the water, much less my entire body.

I was on the Sequim Bay Race Committee on the weekend of June 17th, which by 'normal' (meaning past years) conditions should have been in the 70's. But I was wearing long underwear, a down vest and was still feeling cold in the low 50's under cloudy - and then windless - skies. We were only able to run two good races. And anyone without a motor and no paddles had to be towed back to the marina.

Five boats turned out for the June 17th Saturday races and a good start.

My house in Florida looks more and more inviting except for the bugs, snakes and humidity. Oh, and being too far from the ocean.

Third Race to Alaska Underway

Early setup and blocking of the road access to the Northwest
Maritime Center and Point Hudson Marina.

I volunteered again (second year) for the Race to Alaska (R2AK) and have to admit I was disappointed at the overall turnout. Not just the turnout for the Ruckus, the pre-race party, but the local public support (people wandering around and meeting folks) was diminished from the previous year.

It appeared to me that the race itself was lacking any Significant Sailors, those with regional, national or world-wide competitive skills to create a draw. Not that those who have elected to compete are Insignificant, not by any stretch! But for an event to have continued sponsor support and public support, there has to be interest.

Quote from the R2AK site: "It’s like the Iditarod, on a boat, with a chance of drowning, being run down by a freighter, or eaten by a grizzly bear. There are squalls, killer whales, tidal currents that run upwards of 20 miles an hour, and some of the most beautiful scenery on earth." 

It's sitting on a wet platform for hours on end, (or standing if you are going it on a SUP) with no engine, no resupply lines (or repair shops) for over 700 miles (whoever sailed in a straight line?).

Last year there were 15 world records established (or broken) and the reward for the winner is $10,000 cash, nailed to a tree, with a set of steak knives for second place and a sigh of relief for all the rest who make it. Out of 44 racers in 2016, 26 completed the course. Perhaps the locals are under-whelmed or had other things to do, but this is an amazing race by any standards.

I was on duty from about 11 a.m. to 3 p.m. in the Chandlery (same as last year) and although we had some visitors, my impression was that we were lacking in folks who wanted to purchase R2AK gear (t-shirts, caps, pins, pocket flasks) whereas last year there seemed to be more demand.

Chart of the race course posted on the Cotton
Building gave everyone info about the race.

This year there definitely was better organization around the race itself, with plenty of good information for newcomers to learn about it and the racers. But the street was not filled with boats as it had been the year before, so it was a lot harder to talk personally to any of the racers in a casual way. And so it lacked the energy of "We're all gathered here to launch ourselves into this challenging event" feeling (in my humble, retired-PR, opinion).

In 2017 there were 64 entrants to the race, and of those 21 only had plans to go as far as Victoria. The tremendous gale  that blew up after the start (and all were forewarned of it's approach) and huge waves in Puget Sound eliminated at least 10 contestants for Ketchikan through various damages, (some of which may have been psychological as well as physical) although no one was lost at sea.

It was a battering that some will not care to repeat. (You can read about it here: R2AK.com)

Stand-Up Paddle boarders have my utmost respect.

That left 34 boats to go the distance. I say 'boats,' but five of the vessels are actually stand-up paddle-boards (SUPs) (3), a rowing vessel and a kayak (the first ever to take on this task) and nine of the rest of the boats are 20 feet or less in length. So almost half the fleet is made up of small boats. That in itself is challenging since it is hard to provision a vessel for even a week with so little free space and this could be a three-week journey.

I follow the race on the Tracker (located here: http://tracker.r2ak.com) and cheer for all the competitors because as a life-long sailor, I know it takes tremendous courage, stamina, resilience, and  hopefulness to do a long race, much less one like this. Here is another link for some updates by some of the racers firsthand: 48 North.

So I hope my readers will go to the R2AK website, get the tracker and follow some of these indomitable folks, comment on their progress, and give them the encouragement they will surely need to make it all the way to Ketchikan.

UPDATE: The third Race to Alaska was won by three brothers from Marblehead, Mass., as Team Pure & Wild/FreeBurd and the steak knives went to Team Broderna about five minutes later. It was a close and exciting finish by two awesome teams!!

The Sands of Time

The scent of wild roses mixed with ocean air is heavenly.

 Since I arrived on the Olympic Peninsula, I have enjoyed some wonderful walks on natural lands. One of my favorites has been the Dungeness National Wildlife Refuge, also known as Dungeness Spit.

When I first came here in 2013, I was taken for a walk along the bluffs and was transfixed with the fragility and the beauty of a place that is in a state of constant change.

I walked these bluffs several times that year and often each year I come back at least a few times, sometimes to share it with visitors. Below are some pictures taken from 2013.

In 2013, there was still some walkway left near this post.
Now the post is gone, the tree is gone, the paths are gone.

This was in July 2013 and there was still a path to the right
of the photo. That path was eroded last year and is gone now.

All of this bluff shown here is gone now. I'm estimating at
least 20 feet has been taken in the past four years.

This was a previous path; the Rangers have their work cut
out from underneath them...

Another view of the previous path... gone in 2017.

And today when I went for a walk to remember my friend Cynthia Little who has crossed over (one month ago today) as she was the first one to show me the bluffs with her dog, Keena, I was shocked to discover that in the last year alone, we have lost ALL the walkways!

And areas that were inland by 25 or 30 feet and were tree-covered are now open to the Sound with the encroachment threatening those walkways as well. Here are the photos from today.

The barrier prevents anyone from walking along the bluff;
that SW path was open last fall but I knew it was eroding fast.

A new sign, a new blockage preventing any foot traffic to
the east on the bluffs of Dungeness Spit.

Overstating the obvious; there's a 100-ft. drop there.

If you look closely, you can see a huge piece
of bluff is about to drop off.

While the view is still impressive, this view opened up this
last winter. Previously it was trees and undergrowth.

The light reflects off the Sound and this path may only be
here for another summer. This used to be thick with trees
and undergrowth. Ever-changing beauty.

Another view of the wild rose.

(I've done two other blogs on this area: "Hot Night on the Spit" and "The Dungeness Spit" if you want to read more about it and see some other photos.)

We have had a lot of gale force winds this last fall and winter, and also stormy seas. Both of these elements are part of the erosion of the spit. No matter how much the Rangers try to arrest the action, it will continue. The sands of time... sliding away.

Spring Comes Slowly

What a lesson in patience Spring is teaching me this season!

I want it now!!

I want the smells, the color, the heat of a new spring morning.

But Spring this year says, "Wait. Patience. Enjoy THIS moment. Not the one that will be coming, but THIS very moment."

Dark-eyed Junkos used this birdhouse this year for their
clutch of hatchlings.

So I watch the Dark-eyed Junko pair feed their babies and listen to his irritated "chit-chit-chit" when I get too close to the nest. And see how they both trust me when I back away so they can continue to do their parental duties.

Today I weeded and trimmed the raspberry patch, added some organic soil for topping (it needs more) and repaired the metal guides that will keep the vines from falling down.

It was enjoyable to simply sit on my weeding bench and pull everything that is not raspberry.

A few bees stopped by to see if there were any blooms worth investigating and in the distance I could hear the local target range firing their clay pigeons into the air, motorcycles were zooming along in the sunshine, swallows were doing their vortexy circles and I was totally focused on my task.

(NOTE: I started writing this in mid-May and now at the edge of June, I am finally getting it posted. The message is still the same; appreciate now... no regrets for yesterday, no anxiety about tomorrow.)

Although I felt a little achy when I was done, it was satisfying and meditative. I'm learning... be here now. In THIS moment.

Multiple Myeloma and Issues with Sepsis

Son-in-law walks with one of the twins down to clear the
drainage pipe at the end of their field.

When I first started posting on this blog, it was because someone near and dear to me had been diagnosed with Multiple Myeloma (MM).

It is wonderfully remarkable that after close to a decade of dealing with the disease (and two auto stem cell transplants and the final and best allogenic one) this dear fellow can celebrate another birthday, perhaps after he finishes mowing the big field or clearing the drainage pipe.

But I have other folks in my virtual life who are not faring so well with the disease. They both live in the UK and they both have recently attempted to arrest the disease with stem cell transplants.

And why, on my birthday, do I have the remembrances of bad news days? When I think I'm getting a call to wish me well for over decades of living, I instead get one that announces tragic stuff.

I want to see, after more than a decade of even identifying MM, that great strides are being achieved toward remission or even a cure. Tom Brokaw announced a couple of years ago that he was living with his diagnosis and he has the benefit of being in the higher echelons of income and status, so he quite likely has a better chance at life extension. And as more people who have public identities help to raise awareness and funds, perhaps this will come. But it is too damn slow for some.

The magenta spinnaker flies full before the
wind in Sequim Bay, Washington.

One hopeful aspect of dealing with the process of transplanting cells is overcoming the sepsis (poisoning of the system because of infection) following the 'cleaning' and replacing stem cells. The body is neutropenic (without resistance to illness and infection) having no white blood cells to work with and many folks succumb before their new cells can get working.

Dr. Paul Marik, affiliated with Sentara Norfolk General Hospital in Norfolk, VA, has started using a combination of Vitamin C, hydrocortisone and thiamine to combat sepsis with some good results. (See www.pilotonline to read the story.)

As Marik pointed out in the story, it is difficult to get funding to promote a solution that does not provide a profit. This is all too familiar in all aspects of medical treatments, not just Myeloma. Any solution to ease pain and discomfort that doesn't use Big Pharma products doesn't get much mention or much credibility.

The deep magenta color in the magnolias reminds me of the 'color' of Myeloma funding... like the color of the blood cells that are needed to overcome it.

Magnolias in springtime; a time of hope.

Go here www.myeloma.org.uk to learn more about the disease and if you care to donate, I know that friends of Mike and Emma will appreciate that although it may not benefit them, it might help others.

I will mention again that using sublingual Vitamin B12 for relief from restless leg or nerve pain in the extremities has been proven, at least in my case, to have significant and cumulative benefits. While I do not have MM, I do what I can to follow resources and post what I find here.