Mount Saint Helens

Scoot has an abiding interest in volcanoes.  He does a school report on volcanoes every couple of years.  When we went to Japan, he said he wanted to "walk on a volcano."  We figured out, too late, that he meant "hike up Mount Fuji."  This summer, we decided it was time to visit Mount Saint Helens.

Dandelionslayer and I remember the big 1980 eruption.  We were on the other side of the country, of course, but we remember hearing about it, and seeing the movies at school.  My parents' friends, who lived in Yakima at the time, sent us a vial of ash the next Christmas.  So we felt a sort of connection to this place that we hadn't visited.

Much of the surrounding area has been replanted with noble firs.  They stand there like round hairbrushes, the limbs sticking out so straight that you can barely see them.  But I was surprised at the barrenness of the mountain itself.  A ranger told us about forms of life that braved the conditions of the crater soon after the eruption, only to be disrupted by later events. 

This dome in the crater keeps growing, as does a circular glacier that surrounds it.  And the steam rises.  This is definitely a live mountain.

Plant life is creeping in around it, though, like this paintbrush . . .

. . . lupines, blooming a little later than at our sea level home, and . . .

. . . I really don't know what this is.  Any ideas?

Of course, the geologic formations are easier to see without so much plant life.  I particularly admired this amphitheatre,

and this frosted ridge.

Some of the tourists were pretty cute, too!

Stash to Treasure: Lavender Sachets

Take a little bit of this . . .

(flowered sheer fabric left over from a most elegant nursing coverup)

add a little bit of that . . .

(lavender in the garden)

and you can make these:

Lavender sachets. 

The directions I followed are here.  The hard part was removing the dried buds from the stems, but the result is very pleasing.  I don't generally like to add scents to my life, so I hope someone will like the sachets at our upcoming Relief Society Service Auction.  And if not, well, the scent is growing on me.  I'm tempted to make the dryer version, but I'll have to wait until next summer to harvest more buds.  I'm letting the rest of the plants bloom, and the bees are very happy about it.

A Chilling Scene

...for those of you who are caught in a heat wave:

Time to defrost the freezer!

Rollo has always liked ice, applied orally, but he has recently learned to appreciate its healing powers.  If you know Rollo, you'll understand that this is something he'll use often.  Dandelionslayer's reusable ice pack comes out of the freezer a couple of times a day.  I've tried to convince him that my usually-cold hands are just as good.  The day I defrosted the freezer, he almost believed me.

The Case of the Lifted Lettuce

It was a dark and stormy season . . . or too dry, or too something for my leafy greens to grow very well.  I planted lettuce, spinach, and carrots at the right time, and then again later.  But, except for about three carrot seeds, two spinach seeds, and one lettuce, they just did not sprout.  The only lettuce that has grown successfully in my garden this year sprang from established roots, one of those "live" lettuces from the store.  It grew back nicely, and I saved it for a special occasion.

I looked forward to adding it to my Grilled Chicken and Mango Salad last night.  I tore the remainder of last week's farmers' market lettuce into the bowl, then went out to the garden to harvest the fresher head.  But where was it?  In the space where, so recently, green leaves grew, there was only a hole.

Exhibit A:  the hole

The leaves had not been nibbled away, nor slimed by slugs.  The lettuce was simply gone, roots and all.  The lettuce lovers of my family denied any involvement.  Upon whom could I call to solve this mystery?  The Scouts, of course!  (Never mind that they were also the aforementioned lettuce lovers, and therefore suspects.  A Scout is trustworthy.)

The Caterpillar applied the skills he developed last year for his Stalking--I mean Tracking--Merit Badge to find this evidence:

Exhibit B:  the track

He identified the culprit as a raccoon.  This makes sense.  We know there are raccoons in the neighborhood, that their paws are capable of uprooting small plants, and that they will eat anything (not just the cat food the neighbors set out for them).  

Having convicted the miscreant (in absentia), the Cub Scouts sprang into action to prevent further leafy larcenies.

Exhibit C:  scare tactics

It  may not have the power of a brass serpent on a pole, but Scoot believes that this shiny CD fish will startle potential felons, and encourage them to go home and rethink their lives.

Exhibit C:  the League of Protection

Rollo contributed another fish (made at Cub Scout Day Camp).  He is also searching for a hero with animal communication skills.  He'd like to interrogate the bees.  Busybodies like bees should know what is going on in a garden, don't you think?  If not, Rollo's glowing countenance and Super D2's moral support may win the day and prevent further robberies.

Not that I have any lettuce left to steal, anyway.

Southern Alberta

While studying the atlas prior to our trip, we recognized the name of a historical site in Alberta.

Some years ago we read about it in Dave Barry's insightful essay on the delightful culture of Canada, "What Has Four Legs and Flies," (be sure to go back to page 47 for the full effect) from Dave Barry Talks Back.  We had to stop by. 

The story goes that the Blackfoot people used to chase buffalo over the bluff for more efficient hunting. A young warrior wondered what it looked like from below. His friends could not dissuade him, and he watched. They found him later, under the beasts, with his head smashed in.  Thus, the site was named Head-Smashed-In Buffalo Jump.

We arrived at closing time, so we didn't have much time to look around.  But the center is built onto the cliff, with a couple of stuffed bison looking down on the main floor.  Perhaps one could get a better idea of the event if there was a recording of thundering hooves playing, or if the buffalo looked like they were about to slip. 

Outside, the wind was blowing hard enough to keep unwise buffalo from falling off the cliff.  I had to make some effort to walk back down the hill to the parking lot, anyway.

The wind seemed to be trying to remove the doors from our van as we drove along.  I felt grateful to not be driving a covered wagon, or pushing a handcart in that sort of wind.  But some of the pioneers did.  Our next stop was in Cardston, founded by Mormon pioneers in the late 1880s. 

In spite of wind and snow and wartime, they built this beautiful temple. 

 Actually, the wind was not so bad when we stopped to see the temple.  We enjoyed a peaceful visit in the visitors' center.

Then we pressed on to Montana, and continued home.

Johnston Canyon

The Johnston Canyon Campground was the least occupied when we arrived in the area, so we were surprised to see cars lined up to park across the street.  It seems the Johnston Canyon Trail is one of the more popular trails around Banff.  We just followed the river from the campground, skipping the whole pain of parking, and headed on the hike.

The green glacial river has been carving these rocks for centuries.

In some places it flows placidly,

then takes a tumble over sterner shelves of stone.

Some hikers experience similar mood swings.  D2 decided early that he was not in the mood for walking.  Then he'd get distracted, and move along nicely.  Then another storm would break out.  Dandelionslayer provided this photo opportunity as a diversion.  Pleased with the picture, D2 walked contentedly on for some time.

The map referred to Lower Falls and Upper Falls.  I think these were some Middle Falls.

After dramatic displays of sedimentary rock, we were surprised to see this curtain of travertine limestone.  A rock fall, just across from . . .

. . . the Upper Falls.  The catwalk extended over the water so we could feel the spray.  It was a warm day, and we were ready for its refreshment.

This small cave led to the more drenching spray of the Lower Falls.

At thumbnail size, I think this looks like a picture of the boys climbing on a stone robot with wild hair.  Stand back, and see what you think.

Dandelionslayer finally found a bow worthy of his might,

and a stream to cool his feet.

After lunch, we went in search of warmer water.

We found it at the Upper Pool, Banff Hot Springs.  It looks like a swimming pool, with a lot of people sitting still around the sides.  It smells like sulphur, and feels like a very hot bath:  39 degrees Celsius.  That's 102 degrees, for those who prefer Fahrenheit.  (But can you spell it?) 

I took no pictures of the pool, but this is the view from within the enclosure.  Our boys shook things up a bit, but we tried to keep the splash zone contained.  And they weren't the only children present.  We soaked and splashed until more soakers came, and there was no room for splashing. 

Then we went back to camp and ate ice cream while the grill heated up for dinner.  Yum!

Moraine Lake

We were lucky to find a parking space at Moraine Lake.

It was easy to see why. 

This jewel of a lake is surrounded by ten sharp peaks.  Their glaciers feed it a steady supply of water laced with rock flour, turning the lake this gorgeous turquoise blue.

We walked around the edge until one of the larger streams blocked our way.

Then we rented a canoe, for a closer look.

D2 had to get even closer.  With permission for wading, he managed to fall right into the frigid water.  His hair turned crusty with rock flour.  He loved it.

When it wasn't his turn in the canoe, Scoot explored the huge rock pile at the end of the lake.

We outstayed most of the other tourists.

But it was still hard to leave.

Sigh.