July 16 - Volksmarch in Wenatchee, Washington

The first walk of the conference was, conveniently enough, in Wenatchee, so that morning we had a quick breakfast and drove over to the starting point at Walla Walla Park that was situated along the west bank of the Columbia River. The first leg of the walk lead us north along a hiker-biker path that wound through the park. I helped a trio of ladies who had driven up from the Portland area to take some group pictures, and they obligingly took pictures of us, so we naturally fell into talking. Since as it turned out we were all walking at about the same pace, we kept together in a loose group as we walked 5 kilometers up the Columbia River and back. Much of the park was full of tents with young folks running around and getting prepared for the baseball tournament, which I assumed was going to be played in fields in the park later that day. It was already getting quite warm while we were walking from about 8 to 10 a.m., and I didn't envy the kids playing ball in the hot afternoon sun a bit.

The riverside landscape that unfolded before us was quite interesting. The Columbia River even that far inland was still draining a large intermountain area and despite the dusty brown landscape of the hillsides there was plenty of water in the river itself. The scenery was again an odd contrast of the great river cutting a wide blue and green swath through very dry and thirsty looking foothills of the Cascades, somewhat similar to what we had earlier seen along the Snake River in Idaho.

I, of course, stopped to take pictures wherever possible and that plus chatting with the ladies made the time fly by. We discussed family, friends, illnesses, the local Volksmarching scene, and anything else that popped into our heads. This potpourri of topics included some of my old flying experiences, for some reason, maybe because I'm better at talking about that than, say, breast feeding, but the ladies did genuinely seem to be interested in some of the things Monika and I had done. We really were back at the starting point before we knew it, and welcomed warmly by the local folks putting on the conference. They were surprised to see Virginians attending a walking conference at the northwestern corner of the country, but very glad to see us. In fact, everyone including the bicyclists who passed us on the trail was exceptionally friendly with the exception of one roller-blader who yelled out "Get over on the right side of the trail and stay there!" with great indignation as she whizzed by on the left. We spent the rest of the walk waiting for her to come back because we planned to discuss trail etiquette with her in no uncertain terms, using a phalanx of walkers to stop her if we had to, but she never returned.

After the walk many of the folks were going to attend the workshops and presentations of the conference, I imagine, but Monika and I had to check out of our campground and shift the trailer up to the town of Leavenworth where we had secured a campsite for the next few nights. As we drove up the valley we saw more and more green forests on the upper slopes of the mountains, but also more signs of old wild fires that had burned off parts of the forest cover, giving it a rather patchwork appearance. We drove through Leavenworth, and that was a hoot because the entire town with the exception of one industrial building has been decorated like a Bavarian village in Germany. Apparently the area was settled in part by Germans from Bavaria, but I'm also certain that someone or somebody like the local Chamber of Commerce had the bright idea of modeling all buildings on the Bavarian theme to help attract tourists. Having such a high level of consistency in the theme does help preserve some illusion of Germany, I think, and at least it wasn't an overblown Gatlinburg type of thing with "Ripley's Bavarian Believe It Or Don't!" or "Bavarian Beersteins And Wax Museum" attractions.

As we continued through Leavenworth and up the road about 3 miles to our campground, we were surprised by the haziness of the skyline. At the campground I wedged the trailer into a tiny spot with a little guidance from the local back-into-tight-spots expert, who appeared to be employed by the park for just that purpose. We disconnected from the truck and connected the water and electrical supplies, immediately turning on the air-conditioning for the afternoon. The haze turned out to be a wildfire that was burning in a canyon just around the bend from our campground, and we were given a "Level 1 Evacuation Advisement" by the Chelan County Sheriff's Office, which is not something we encountered every day. The threat of fire on our doorstep, so to speak, was brought home by the whap-whap-whap of helicopters overhead that were ferrying big buckets of water up into the nearby canyon. Compared to most folks, our preparations were simple: if we got a Level 2 or Level 3 warning we would just hook up the trailer and hightail it out of there! The nub was what to take with on the walks we had planned over the next couple of days; a wildfire could potentially sweep down into the campground while we were gone and wipe out our trailer. We decided on taking the computers and musical instruments with us in the truck, which either says something about our personal priorities or may just indicates how much these things cost to replace!

But since the wind was blowing up canyon rather than down canyon, we settled in for a nice relaxing afternoon in our air-conditioned trailer. I started off with sewing up a hole in my good Cool Max socks that I had purchased in Germany and laboriously brought back (see Wanderung 5), and then fixed several rents and tears in one of my pairs of zip pants. Zip pants, for the uninitiated, are the funny looking pants with lots of pockets and legs that zip off above the knee. They were so great for the typical pattern we encounter in Volksmarches of starting off quite cool but transitioning to very warm during the walk that I wore them religiously. They were so good that I was willing to put in the time, effort, and pinpricks to repair them. It's not exactly Winston Churchill's "Blood, toil, tears, and sweat", I admit, more like "Ouch! Darn it, get in there!", but it did keep those old trousers going for the trip. Sewing like this might strike some people as odd, but it reminds me very much of the "make and mend" periods the British sailors used to have on Sundays back in Nelson's day, so I figure I'm in good company. Maybe I'll take up scrimshaw as part of the "art" aspect of our traveling!

Monika worked processing our recent pictures and then shifted over to converting Wanderung 4 to HTML so that it could ultimately be put on the web. I continued my work on the journal and we had a jolly old time. Outside, you see, it was heading well into the 100s and the sun was hard and hot, so we weren't really tempted to run over to Leavenworth and do a Year Round Event. With conditions like this we shift into "summer" mode, which consists of carefully planning our day so that the walking or biking occurs in the early morning when it is at least relatively cool, and definitely avoiding any exertion in the heat of the afternoon. After all, we are neither "mad dogs or Englishmen" and thus avoid the midday sun when it is beating down from the heavens like the hammer of God. This really is important as Monika is definitely my "Heatstroke Honey" and I have to watch that she doesn't overdo it. We might have come close to that already back on the bike trip we took in the afternoon in Olympia--hence the stop afterwards at Dairy Queen--and I surely did not want to take any unnecessary chances out in the desert.