Yesterday was an apathetic, moody day that fortunately ended with an uplifting, sweaty two hours of capoeira. This morning was a new day – hopefully a better day. And as soon as I saw Mt. Rainier on the way to work, I knew it would be so. It’s been about a week since I’ve seen the mountain, and after a few days of rain here (and maybe snow up there?), the mountain’s covering of snow had grown, making it even more beautiful than ever. To see the mountain completely exposed on the way to work totally made my day. Thank you, God, for breathtaking scenes of your creation.

09/07/09: Kris asked for a pic of the mountain, but, unfortunately, I haven’t been able to get a good shot of the mountain from the city. I’ve taken some ones that are more close up, and you could also Google “Mt. Rainier” to see some great ones, but I feel like I need to show a picture of the mountain from Seattle since that is more of what we see on a daily (or whenever weather permits) basis. So here it is, taken from this website:

Happy Friday everyone!

The weather this summer has been so strange. Last week, we got some really warm days–our camping trip up at Mt. Baker-Snoqualmie National Forest was during a “hot” spell, with temps up in the high 80s, low 90s. But the night we got back from camping, the clouds rolled in and dropped some sprinkles–conveniently after I had spent 45 minutes watering my plants. :P Today, we’ve gotten heavy rain and gray skies, but sun and clear skies are predicted for the weekend. I’m thankful for the rain, which means my plants stay hydrated, but without sun and warmth, my tomatoes are sluggish at ripening.

This past weekend, we camped at the Panorama Point campsite along Baker Lake with Melanie–a friend from work–and her husband. Since Matt’s department was up in Mt. Vernon–about an hour or so west of the campsite–on Friday, I went to work and then took Amtrak up to meet him. I was almost as excited about the train ride as I was about camping. I just love taking Amtrak (probably because it reminds me of taking the train to Sac on some weekends from SF), and I liked the idea of having several hours of solitude.

Armed with stationery to write letters, my journal, a book, and several magazines (I always overpack), my housemates dropped me off at rickety-looking train station in Tukwila. There were a few wooden covered areas for waiting passengers, but the whole setup reminded me of an amusement park ride that’s supposed to look old and desolate. I was quite relieved to see the train pull up to the station and quickly found a single seat, hoping I wouldn’t be sitting by loud chatters or anyone too social (yes, I’m an introvert). By the time the train was past Seattle, I had written a letter to my sister, updated my journal, and was just starting to read my book.

I was hoping to make progress on my book, but then I noticed the sun was setting. And I was hooked. I’d read a few lines, look out the window, read a few more lines, and then look out the window again. The train route hugged the coast of Washington, taking us past small, secluded beaches. Many of them looked large enough only for a few families. With the ocean waters between the train and the setting sun, I no longer needed any other form of entertainment.

I noticed that, as the train appeared next to beaches and streets, people who were walking by or standing around looked over at us and smiled…some kids waved. At one spot, I saw a woman in the ocean all by herself–not even near a beach. She was facing the train, waving calmly. I was startled at first and was afraid she was drowning, but figured someone drowning would not have been waving so calmly (or smiling). I just love how the train makes people respond, though. If I’m in a car and a train goes by (and I have to wait for it to pass), I get irked. But I think if I’m standing around and see a train go by, it’s pretty mesmerizing and oddly peaceful.

So there’s my plug for Amtrak. Take it along the Washington coast at sunset.

By the time Matt picked me up, ate dinner, bought bug spray, and got to the campsite, it was already 10 pm. Fortunately Matt had made it there earlier in the day to set up the campsite. We’ve had to set up camp in the dark before, but it’s something we try to avoid if possible. Matt already had about 15 mosquito bites on his back–he had been bitten THROUGH his shirt, and I got about two bites just running from the car into the tent. It was a sign of what was to come during the weekend.

And speaking of pesty critters, on the way to the campsite, a frog hopped in front of the headlights, totally freaking me out. Then it dawned on me…we were camping along a lake…FROGS live near lakes…I may have to see frogs!!!! Give me snakes and beetles anyday, but do not let me see a frog!!

Saturday morning, I woke up and got my first view of the campsite. Matt had set up our tent in a sunken area that looked like it was in the middle of a rainforest. It was absolutely beautiful–ferns, mossy trees, the works. A short path behind our campsite led straight to Baker Lake, where there was a small area to walk out into the lake. Before I could really take in the campsite, the mosquitoes started biting. I got three bites in the minute or so it took for me to put on my contact lenses. Fortunately Matt had purchased bug spray with 100% DEET, so that went all over my body, and hurray–it worked!

We did some exploring and hiked a short section of the Boulder Ridge Trail (where we were warned of people being gored by buffalo), figuring we would do more once our friends arrived. During the hike, I saw a couple of small frogs, hopping into the bushes as we approached. Each time that I saw their nasty little legs hopping away, I froze up. I don’t know what it is. I can totally imagine them jumping up into my mouth for some reason, and that image just makes me want to run away and barf.

Just driving around, I was amazed at the views from the park. You could see Mt. Baker and Mt. Shuksan–two mountains which are part of the North Cascades. One thing we discovered during our morning exploration was the abundance of fire roads (read: rocky, unmaintained roads full of potholes). It was like Costa Rica all over again, but without the storms and unfortunately, without the all-wheel drive. Matt’s lowered 1989 Civic just didn’t cut it.

Our friends had arrived, so we met up with them at Baker Lake. Now, I have to admit that I’m fearful of open waters. I’m just not a strong enough swimmer to be able to spend hours in the water. Fortunately, no one made me feel wimpy. In fact, we all grabbed huge logs and swam out to an island about 1/8 of a mile from the beach. The water was surprisingly comfortable (after that initial shock, of course), and was so relaxing. Once we arrived at the island, we turned around to find a breathtaking full view of Mt. Baker, just sitting there right above the treeline. I could see it in my head, but I knew it was too amazing to not be able to share it. Matt swam back to shore, back to our campsite, put our camera in a dry bag, and swam back to the island. Thank goodness he did, or else we wouldn’t have been able to take all those fun pictures.

I don’t know how long we spent on the island, but we were totally relaxed. We jumped off a big stump sticking out of the water, the girls got propelled off the guys’ shoulders, and we just enjoyed the sandy beach (unlike the sharp rocks of the beach where we started). We went from one body of water, going from Baker Lake, to a hot spring that Melanie had found online. The website that provided us with info about it showed pictures of a man sitting in the springs, totally in the nude, with a thermos strategically placed. “Clothing optional” said the website. Yikes.

After [slowly and carefully] driving on three potholed miles, we finally made it to the springs and were relieved to find that everyone there was clothed. There were only 5 other people there: one local couple with their young son who was curled on the ground, wrapped in a towel, complaining about being cold. The other two were from Ukraine and spoke limited English. We hopped into the springs (ooh, too hot) and managed to sit there for about 20 minutes before we had enough. It just isn’t the same when the temperature outside the water is about 80 degrees. The water was black and smelled like sulphur. “I’m used to the smell,” Matt said, looking at me. :P

By dinnertime, we were all exhausted from the eventful day, but still managed to get through a dinner of BBQ drumsticks, potatoes, and corn—and saved room for fruit/chocolate burritos (my favorite camp food of all time, thanks to Carolyn!). But we all crashed after that and were ready to get a good night’s rest.

Melanie and Brian took off pretty early on Sunday since they were heading further east for more camping with people from church. Matt and I packed up and then did a short walk near the entrance of the park. There are so many other hikes we’d like to do there one day, but we would need more time–and hopefully a car that could better handle those unpaved roads.

This is probably our last camping trip for summer 2008, but hopefully we can squeeze in a winter weekend at a yurt or something. Here in Seattle, you have to make the most of all the seasons–not just the sunny days–because, unfortunately, there are too few of those!

[More pics from this trip in the Summer 2008 folder in our gallery...]

Happy birthday to the coolest dad ever! He says every day is special, and he definitely lives what he believes. Birthdays are a single day, but each day has something to be treasured. Talk about sucking the marrow out of life! I love you, dad!

The apartment that we lived in when we first moved here went from this:

To this:

OK, so it’s a little hard to really see the whole complex in the current picture, but for those of you who visited us at our old place and are curious to see a few more pics, check out the condo website.

It’s amazing how in just two years, the whole Central District is being transformed. Within a few months of our moving there, an old, beautiful house on the corner of the street was torn down, and townhomes replaced it. That was just the beginning. Today when I drove by our old place, there were townhomes all around it. Sadly, many of the homes that have been in that area are old and full of character, but they’re being replaced by modern-looking townhomes and condos. Those have beauty of their own, but there really is nothing like an old home. Unfortunately, not everyone thinks that’s a good thing.

How can you watch the opening ceremony of the Olympics and not feel moved?

OK, the march of the nations can be a little boring. I remember watching the last Olympics and not being too enthused to watch groups of athletes from each country walk around the stadium and wave. *Yawn* Tonight, we caught the opening ceremony shortly after it began, and switched off between watching that and “War of the Worlds.” I just found out that Sarah Brightman performed at the opening of the whole thing, and I missed it! Bummer.

Some of the performances were more interesting than others, but the ones that involved intricate choreography were fascinating. “Chinese people do the coolest things!” I kept exclaiming to Matt. He’s only half-Chinese, so he wasn’t quite as enthused. ;) He also isn’t as easily entertained. But who wouldn’t be impressed by 2008 tai chi masters positioned in perfect circles, moving in sync, and never losing the shape of the circles? Even in our capoeira class, we can’t make a nice circle–and there’s only 15 of us! Or how about when people were hiding inside long boxes, moving them up and down like waves to create different patterns? Amazing!

This year, when we watched countries march around the stadium, it actually moved me more than I expected. Just think about how awe-inspiring it must be to be there in the presence of SO many countries, coming together, mixing languages and cultures. You’re there to compete, but you’re also there to play together, and it just gives me chills knowing that so many countries are intermingling.

I also loved the story of the 9-year-old boy who walked alongside Yao Ming with all the other Chinese athletes. The little boy had survived the Sichuan earthquake in May, but many of his classmates died. After he climbed out of the rubble of his fallen classroom, he ran back to pull two of his classmates out. When asked why, he said it was because he was one of the hall monitors, and it was his responsibility to watch out for his classmates.

I’m thankful to work in a place where different cultures come together, and also thankful to live in a neighborhood where you meet people of different colors and lifestyles. But to experience that on a much, much grander scale would be amazing. Enjoy the Olympics everyone!