Parents in Packwood!

The Mitten came to the mountains on Saturday when my parents flew into Seattle. Now on Tuesday morning, it seems like just yesterday. I would almost argue that one finds they need more time here - or perhaps in any small town - to feel fulfilled compared to a place like Seattle. You want them to meet everyone you consider a family of sorts (almost the entire town), you want them to experience how all the local haunts are intertwined, you want to hike every inch of the woods (and you wish you could teleport there to avoid some of the forest road commutes), and you want time to lounge luxuriously in the hot tub at the cabin you won a three-night stay in.

Well, we didn't make it to the hot tub and just barely got delectable tastes of the rest of the essentials. There is nothing short of living here that gives you the full flavor. 

Nonetheless, we've been having a wonderful time. 

Our Packwood experience did get a late start because I coupled the Saturday airport excursion with a visit to good ol' Firestone. They did an oil change and check and were pleased to report the car in pretty good shape (hush-hush on its severe reconstruction last year) but noted that the tires were nearing next to no tread so another hour and $500 was tacked to my visit. Luckily, everything went smoothly at the airport and we headed to Olympia to do our shopping for the week ahead. What was going to be a quick co-op stop expanded to a multi-venue excursion as I realized a couple other things I needed and also that the Olympia Farmer's Market would be in swing. I hadn't been down since my farm stay back in 2011 and it was fun to show my parents around the vendor layout I'd gotten to know so well the year before. I got a couple gifts (one being a bar of soap from the homestead I worked on) and we just managed to catch a vendor packing up his fresh fish which would become my first Pescetarian dinner in at least 10 years. We also stopped at a high-quality local beer store. I was in search of the Anthem Apricot and while they were out of that, there was no shortage of Craft ciders to choose from. I got the Schillings Grapefruit I'd eyed at the Summit. Finally we made it to the Co-op and I cracked down on the shopping list while my mom went to find something to keep the fish cold. We made it back to Packwood around 6pm and cooked up an impromptu variation of the dinner we'd hoped for after deciding it was hands down, way too hot roast anything.

Sharing a Cider Summit Fave

I had hoped for a bit more down time but we still did have enough transition between dinner and heading down to the Spruce for...Karaoke! We got in a round of pool and I introduced them to a couple of the regular faces before revving up the machine. Sadly, the night was one of the slower ones. By 9:30, Stone was the only other one ready to sing so I did Bad Moon Rising and he did his infamous rendition of Mountain Music. It was fun to have my dad see my Karaoke for the first time but after the two of us sang, Karl and any other folks that Karaoke relied on didn't show for at least another hour. Jet-lagged and heat-weary, my parents had to call it a night. Karaoke was carried by Karl, me and a rambunctious Bachelorette party. Mary went home early but not before doing a final song with me: Vitamin-C's Graduation! Goofiness and good times were had. 

I may have yet to explain the demographic that tends to hold Karaoke together. It's the Racers. When the Mill closed down in Packwood, the large barren space got converted to a Racing venue. Many weekends throughout the year bring in honorary locals with their cute little race cars. In my whole year here, I'd gotten to know many of their after-hours singing talents but none of their racing talents.  This weekend was the last of the National heats for the Races and I was determined to at least see Karl and his "cute white car". In the morning, I couldn't get a hold of Mary but mother and I were ready for some action so we headed down around 9am. The course was tucked behind the large Mill shed off the highway. I'd never realized there was so much space back there. We watched the rest of heat two before Karl's car appeared in the line up. I found Jean, another Karaoke racer, sitting on the sidelines and she filled us in a bit and pointed him out to us. "Anyone can race" she said. "All of the cars only go to around highway speed. Its all about the precision of the turns and navigating the directions." It turned out to be pretty interesting to see.

Karl's car zooming around the cones

With the heat beating down, we left right after Karl's run. Back at the cabin we had breakfast and a lengthy debate about how best to spend our day. Mother kept saying she wanted to "be on Rainier" which was confusing to me. But then, as the morning became later, she said we should just go to some favorite spots of mine. But then she kept pulling out maps, an unnecessary tool if she wanted to go to places I know. After some bickering, we (sort of) settled on driving up to Paradise, a highly recommended spot in the park. But by the time we drove down to the Butter Butte for coffee, she'd decided that Packwood lake felt better for that day.

Ultimately, it was a good decision. Late in the afternoon, the drive to Paradise would have made us feel rushed once we got there. And Packwood Lake had it's local vibe to boast about. With the heat, it was refreshing to be encased within the trees and foliage. My third time through the whole trail, I was beginning to pick up on some of the markings and indicators of how far in we were. Nevertheless, that trail has always exceeded my recollection of its length. Factually, it is 4.4 miles in - about 9 round trip - but the last mile or so always feels like forever. With an iffy sky and dinner to make, we didn't have a long time at the lake but they were still super appreciative of the view. There was a couple there who by the looks of their ramshackle campsite, appeared to have already been up there for quite a few days and seemed to have a good week or so more. I half-longed for their resolve. The itinerary of simplicity would do me good right now. I tucked the fleeting thought back into my bucket-list-binder for the dozenth time in my life and we continued back into town.

Stopping at the coffee shop to pick up a few things I'd left to keep cool, we were graced by a novel surprise: someone besides a 5 year-old was utilizing our piano! And better yet, had a voice accompaniment to sing the nostalgia-inducing theme song from Titanic (admittedly my favorite song to play back when I myself played piano).

Dinner was somewhat of a special occasion. After over 6 years of vegetarian-almost-vegan-ism, it would be the meal that declared me a West Coast Pescatarian. We'd bought some fresh Alaskan Salmon at the farmers market and Dad steamed it in one of the hard ciders with some herbs and vegetables. I must say: my body had craved that sort of substance. "Reeled" in, I enjoyed the new addition throughout the week thanks to Dan, a local who smokes his own Salmon and gave my family and I four packages to snack on. Beyond West-fresh and perhaps a couple of Great Lake catches, I won't be venturing into just any old seafood. But the PNW begs to take advantage of that diet.

We had invited people for a fire that night but Mary and Justin were the only ones who could make it, which ended up being perfect because all of us were pretty beat. While we were waiting for them to head over, mom and I got it going. I went to find some smaller logs by the front of the house and came across a small little gecko guy who scampered through the cracks in the wood pile as I disrupted his hiding spot. Once the fire was good and going, we needed some flat pieces to layer better than the giant round stubs cut up in back. Mother went back out to the wood at the front and brought over two perfect pieces, which I threw in. As I was getting mesmerized by the growing flames, I noticed that some of the movement was not of the orange and flamey kind: Gecko Guy was circling in the middle of the log, like Simba on the mountain when all the Hyenas are closing in! "Oh my gosh, Oh my gosh!" I started wailing. "Gecko! Gecko!" mother just barely registered what I was talking about before I was reaching in to whip out the giant log. It was burning but still salvageable enough that the flames extinguished as I threw it on the ground. "....oh. I think I saw it fall back in" she said. A sunken feeling swelled up as I looked around and around, putting my face level to the ground to look for sillouhettes of movement. I shuffled my hand in the dark to illicit a response and finally saw it shift and then dart away. "ITS OKAY ITS OKAY!" I relayed the exciting almost-murder-tradgedy to Mary and Justin when they arrived and we all chatted for about an hour  before calling it a night.

The next day, upon the insistence of both my mother and Dave himself, she and my father and I went down to the coffee shop to meet my Landlord. Ever since his staunch christianity and conservative outlooks had reached their limits at a breakfast conversation a few months before, I'd been rather avoid-ant of any exchange beyond the niceties that kept me in good favor. We arrived there only a few minutes before him which still gave us plenty of time for me to encounter familiar faces to introduce my parents to. When he walked in, we were finishing up a exuberant hello with Bernie, a charismatic spunk of a man who from by the stories he told, made it apparent that he was a bit of a rebel in his youth. Dave stood by awkwardly as we wrapped up and before Bernie left, he gave one of his warm hellos to Dave who he'd apparently "not see in some while" and Dave gave his I-don't-know-how-to-handle-this-person response. Later my mom asked me if I knew what the rift was but I was pretty sure it was just cause Bernie wasn't square. Coffee was tolerable save for when the topic treaded on Israeli vs. Palestinian territory and Dave blindingly sided with the good 'ol Holy Land people. Luckily, the occasion had a determined end in sight since Mary would be meeting us to drive to our last team meeting!

we make pretty kick-ass potlucks

We did what we do best - a potluck - and aside from a few logistics, spent most of the meeting time giving and getting praise in various forms. Some of the teammates were thoughtful enough to give each of us gifts or cards which both moved me and made me feel bad since, in the whirlwind of that last month, I hadn't even thought to do such a thing which so often is my inclination. Nora made up a print for each of us to have a glass mug emblazoned with "Cripus" on it for our long-standing inside joke of the AmeriLaunch name blunder. Meghann made each of us folders with personalized letters, photos and a well-written ready-to-use recommendation letter. We got our certificates and ate delicious food, hugged some hugs, shared our thanks some more, took a group picture, hugged some more hugs...it was one of those moments that felt like it wasn't supposed to stop. But we were done. And it did. So we said good bye and wished everyone farewell.

In honor of their last year, Mary and Corey busted out some surprise Grad Garb

What a wonderful bunch!

Back in Packwood, we picked up Justin and he and Mary drove out to Paradise with us. Many of the  areas in the National Park could be of a same name but this was a place I'd only heard great things about and had not yet made it to. There was reason for its namesake. Unlike the hike that the team had done at 'Sunrise', this area got us close to Rainier once again but this time from the other side - far more pristine and overpowering than the lumpy rump we'd been looking at before. Just being in that place made you feel like you were on the mountain. We only did a short walk - about a .6 mile stroll to a popular waterfall - but lingered there for a good amount of time, just bathing in the view and watching some frisky marmots.

Glacial ICE!

When we parted ways to go down the mountain, it felt surreal once again. To say good bye to Mary was strange. I'd never felt like it would happen, and then it just kinda had to. I would see her again that evening to give a gift and I knew that I would see her again in the future, but this chapter was done.

And so was my family's brief stay in Packwood. The next day, we would be on our way to St. Helens!