Mountain high......

We were at Hurricane Ridge, which is found after a wonderfully terrifying road up the mountain in the Olympic (Washinginton state) Peninsula, to the National Park.  We being Barbara, the driver, her husband Dick, two Welsh Terriers and Koa.  The last turn out of the trees brings you to a view that takes away breath, looking across at the back of the Olympics.  The mountains up here are not the totally jagged behemoths of Calif, but are soaring, steep sheer green out of thickly wooded valleys.  We found deer in the meadow, and people from all over the world up there.  We thought we could go hiking with the dogs - wilderness is legislated:  signs say keep a leash on your pets, and then trailheads say, no dogs.  It is a part, felt like a groomed park, had views of wilderness, and a lot of people, so the only way to really experience the area as wilderness is to get off the beaten trail, with no dogs.

This lovely creature was alongside the wall that keeps the tourists out of the meadows.  It is what the people in the top photo were eyeing, including the dog.

Barbara and I have known each other for too many years to tell - but she knew my sons before they were born.

We were able to see sweeps of wildflowers - great blue patches of lupine, yellow buttercups and lilies, small white avalanche lilies, all against the drama of the mountain range across the valley. 

Above the ocean near a spit of land where we couldn't take the dogs.  The Straits of Juan de Fuca. The water, incredibly, was light green on the shore - almost tropic.  Lucas and Ivy and Koa enjoyed the day, anyway, although we drove and drove, touring country that has changed drastically since I last was there.  I wondered if there was some Microsoft influence in this area that used to be remote country, as the little farmstands and larger stores now carry items you would find in luxury specialty stores.  I remember this area when it was country- now you can get a latte anywhere.