June 24, 2010

The Cascade Range is a range of volcanic mountains that extend from western Canada down to northern California.  Mount Rainier is the highest peak in the range.  The Cascades are aptly named.  Thousands of waterfalls cascade down the steep slopes of the mountains.

The Northern Cascade NP has thousands of unnamed waterfalls.  This time of year they are very spectacular, some falling hundreds if not thousands of feet.  Being they are not named, I chose one to name Darlie Falls.  

The NP we stayed in last night had beautifully paved roads and campsites.  They were repaving them.  Why??

Bryce Canyon, located in Utah, could really use the pavement.  All the campgrounds are dirt roads or old pavement and very dusty.  Many more people visit there than Cascades NP.  There were only four of us camped in that park last night.  Bryce is filled every night.   Go figure. 

It is amazing how diverse the western states are.  You would think mountains are mountains but each range has its own character.  The Cascades are very steep, snow covered, forested mountains.  There is plenty of exposed rock but douglas firs thickly populate the steep slopes.  The peaks are so high they scratch the sky above, clouds curling around their jagged tops.  

Rt 20 follows a river rushing with snowmelt.  There are several dams along it’s course that are used to produce hydroelectric power.  Each dam creates a long emerald green lake.  There are many overlooks along the way to stop and take in the view.  Darlie must have snapped 300 photos. 

As we crossed over the pass and began to descend the mountains. The scene changed rapidly.  Fewer trees and more rock was visible.  The farther east we traveled the more arid it became.  I wouldn’t call it desert because it was green.   Sagebrush was thick upon grassy fields.   Its pungent odor filled the MH as we traveled along enjoying the mild weather.

Acres of neat rows of apple trees covered the valley floor and up the hillsides.  Groves of black cherry trees glisten with bright red berries nearly ready for picking.  We have been following the black cherry harvest all over the west.  We have eaten several pounds. 

We passed through small towns that had a western feel.  Storefronts reflected their wild west heritage.   There were dance halls, saloons, mercantile stores and hotels with balconies.  The streets were filled with people browsing the various shops.

Once across the valley, we began our ascent once again.  We are entering the Kettle River Range.  We found a lovely state park campground on a lake.   We are tired and ready to relax outside in the soft green grass overlooking the lake.

Curlew Lake State Park is one of the neatest, well kept parks we have been in.  Acres of thick, green, soft grass roll out like a carpet over knolls and slopes to the water’s edge.  It is kept mowed like a golf course.   Shade trees are plentiful and nicely spaced.   A fishing pier and boat launch are centrally located, easily reached by all park users.  Locals were at the pier cleaning their catches of rainbow trout.  Lake views from grassy hilltops invite you to stop and sit awhile.   This is a beautiful place.