Leavenworth, WA lies in the cradle, a valley, of the eastern Cascades. If you are heading east as we are now from our northwestern-most point ( so far ) in our 50 Amp Vision Quest, this last point you are in the mountains before reaching the high desert of eastern Washington. I knew virtually nothing about this area. I’ve never seen pictures of this area nor read about it anywhere. It’s an almost forgotten geographic anomaly overshadowed by the western Cascades and the coast of Washington, Puget Sound, and the Olympic Peninsula. Just north of here lies the Northern Cascades National Park and the border with British Columbia. Images and visions abound for this area, but not so much for where we are camped. Judging by the people in the streets of Leavenworth, the visitors seem almost entirely Washingtonians and visitors from overseas...Germany, Japan, the Asian Rim countries. In other words, most Americans from outside Washington state don’t know about this area and therefore don’t visit here. On the map it is called the Alpine Lakes area, bordered and surrounded by the Alpine Lakes Wilderness. The definitive feeling you get is that you are in a somewhat drier version of the Bavarian Alps, complete with yodeling.
While Dusty and Cindy ventured further north into the Northern Cascades, we decided to run in a more central direction, generally towards Spokane. Our thought is that we would hit Spokane and then venture into northern Idaho on our march to Glacier National Park. We know we have to be in eastern Montana the third week of September for the sugar beet harvest so our plans work backwards from that date and place. Diane scoped this area out in our Allstays Ap, our trusted guide to campgrounds. Johnny Creek CG is our goal, located just outside of Leavenworth. It’s a Forest Service Camp with no amenities or service. Typically, we love these types of camps. We can’t stay in them exclusively because we would burn out our generator. We’ve put 1500 hours on it since we left Missouri in 2018. At that rate we would need to get a new one in about 2 years from now. So, we alternate between RV parks and State parks where we can use shore power and water.
I mentioned that the ambiance here is Bavarian Alps. Leavenworth sets the stage for that. Leavenworth is a tourist town of the first order. Every building must have a Bavarian motif. Even the Napa auto parts store is disguised as a Bavarian Inn. Not favoring tourist town traps ourselves, I must say Leavenworth is the rare exception. It is laid out in such a pleasing way that you can’t help wanting to spend time ( and money ) here. Icicle creek runs through the town giving it a freshness that is unbeatable. A little park sits amiably in the center of town where families picnic and artists showcase their visions. Near vertical mountains surround the town. Jagged spruce and pine covered precipices shoot up everywhere. While we were here a pretty darn good authentic polka band, albeit three piece, was entertaining on the town square in the park. The little shops really are unique featuring quality goods not typically found elsewhere...true specialty shops. We bought Ruby birthday outfits here. The restaurants are very good and we sampled them as well. Leavenworth is well thought out and a lot of fun. It really is.
There is a road that runs southwest out of Leavenworth that roughly follows Icicle Creek, which is more like a river in my estimation. Though shallow, it is fairly wide and running hard, tumbling and cascading over large stones and boulders not yet worn down to gravel by the constant rush of clear spring water. The road runs up and up into the peaks all the while bracing the river. The altitude gain must be at least a thousand feet where you reach Johnny Creek campground. All the while you travel the road there are various pullouts where trail heads to the upper reaches of the range and alpine lakes are located. The sun invariably sparkles off the river and the sky is impossibly blue this time of year, so different from the oft cloud-shrouded western coastal range, damp and moss hung. Young rock climbers crane their necks upward searching for hand holds and toe holds on the rock facings of the fairly sheer cliffs along the road. Perhaps some 10 or 12 miles up the road we land at Lower Johnny Creek Campground...first come-first served. The air is clear and pine-scented. It’s 80 degrees with a mild breeze. There are a few puffy cumulus clouds meandering over the mountains. It’s Sunday and chances are good we’ll find a spot.
Campsite #3 is open. Truly, there is not a bad camp site in this place, but #3 is the best. It must be at least a half acre in size. It’s bordered by trees on both sides and opens to a path down to Icicle Creek. There, a huge boulder creates a 5 foot deep pool that rests in its lee. It’s a perfect little swimming hole of cold, clear, totally refreshing, God-given, life enhancing water. The bouncing water in mid stream creates a constant and most pleasing sound. This place can sooth anyone’s jangled nerves in record time, I’m sure. THIS... is what the 50 Amp Vision Quest is all about. We’re to stay here a week we decide. It’s too good to leave to go searching for something somewhere else. It may be our favorite campground on the Quest so far. Though there is no water here and no dump station, we think we can make it for a week on the half tank of water that’s in our reserve. Never mind that we’ve never been able to do that yet, we think we can. We think we must!
Though the campground is not half full on this Sunday, by Thursday, Washingtonians who know of this place fill every spot. Every campsite is semi-secluded here so there not a feeling of being overwhelmed by campers. The campers here are not Hoosiers as we say back in St Louis. That is to say, they are not white-trash folk who get loudly drunk and throw trash everywhere. These are a nature-respecting people with an almost reverence for the place. White folk, Hispanic, African American, it doesn’t matter. Everyone is happy. Everyone is respectful of others and the land. Everyone is just grateful to be here I think. During our last two nights in this camp there was a large family of Mexican Americans camped across the road from us with lots of kids. We are so glad when we see kids getting our in the woods like this. Not enough do it seems to us.
A young man, perhaps 6 years old named Jayden, became my newest little friend. He hung around our camp asking me about our travels and our motor home. Such a sweet little man. He seemed to really like me and he liked Heidi and Dash a lot, too. On our last day I gave him one of my walking stick I had just fashioned that looked about just his size. I gave his sister one also. He was thrilled. He carried it around all morning and about 4 hours after I gave it to him he announced to me that he had not put it down since I gave it to him. Jayden and his sister hiked all around the camp and down by the river with their sticks. My heart literally soared like a hawk to see this. Jayden stopped by several times that last day to say goodbye. He made me feel as though I were his uncle. That’s how I felt after our two days together.
When we drove off that final day he stopped our motor home and gave me a little present. It was a piece of driftwood about the size of my palm that he found by the river. It was well-worn down by the currents and had a polished look. How did he know that I would love that little piece of driftwood so? How did he know that Diane and I search for just that kind of thing to make gifts for our grand kids? Rarely in my life have I been so touched by such a thoughtful act. Jayden searched and found such a perfect little artifact to give me. His heart was in it. He looked up at me with those big brown eyes through his black bangs of hair and as our eyes met I knew there was the deepest communication possible there. I think about that young man a lot these days. I think about how he made my life better for having met him. I think about his life before him and I wish for him the best of all that life has to offer because I know he cherishes real living and real things and real relationships. I hope I see him again one day, I know I will never forget him and his little act of generosity.
There is a hike, a trail here called 4th of July, that heads up over the northern peaks from the road. It has a 2500 foot altitude gain and is 5 miles long. Even though it is fully switched-back it’s a huffer and a puffer...at least to me it is. I never did the entire 5 miles of it, but I did hike to the top of the ridge. I’d estimate it to be about 2-2 ½ miles up the mountain. It crosses a stream several time as it switches back and forth across the breast of the mountain. As you start out you are in heavy brush of all manor of growth. Here is where I really thought I would see a bear. There’s berries here and fresh, running water. No luck with that and I was surprised. It’s perfect habitat for them and there’s no one on the trail. It’s not a popular one, though I can’t figure why it’s not. The second time on this trail I brought Heidi and Dash. They loved it and it fairly wore them out. I let them run without a leash.
Another trail that has to be a “must-do” if you’re in the area is the icicle creek gorge trail. Continuing up the road from our camp until it nearly ends and has turned into a dirt, washboard surface, we found the trail head. Because of its stunning beauty it is a fairly crowded route, but totally worth hiking. We loved it so much we hiked it twice. The first time Diane and I left the dogs back at home. The next time we brought them with us. The gorge itself is not of the magnitude of a lot of the western state’s massively cut gorges, but it’s pristine and beautiful beyond words. Icicle creek has made this cut into the igneous rock and the sheer sides of the gorge are perhaps 80-100 feet high. The surrounding forest is thick, dark, mysterious, and a pure joy to be immersed in. I thought I’d see Hansel and Grettle somewhere along the path. It was as if we were in a Grimm’s fairly tale.
At several stops where the cliffs recede to meet the river’s edge we joined the river and refreshed ourselves in its purity, cool and inspiring. We didn’t drink the water per se, but let it pour over our skin like waves of watery breeze. Back at our campsite we would take a brisk swim nearly every day in the little swimming hole by the boulder. This river can build the spirit! Diane and I spent one entire afternoon picking out interesting rocks and pebbles from the river by our camp. Our intention was to use these as “treasure gems” for future gifts for the grand kids as we did for Ella on her birthday last July. We found some beauties and left them on a boulder by water’s edge for later culling. We should have brought them back up to the camp because a few days later someone scattered them all back into the river, no longer destined to be treasure gifts. Oh well...we’ll just have to find some more in Montana.
During our travels we miss Suni, Eli, our friends, and certainly our grand kids. Right now we miss them all a lot and are really looking forward to Missouri once again. We’ll get there, but we have a lot to see and do before then, including some hard work at the beet harvest. I start each day here with hot coffee and a campfire. It’s a solitary time for me. I enjoy the time for reflection, prayer, and recounting the previous days’ discoveries and adventures. There is no end to my, ( and I’m certain Diane’s ), gratitude to the Almighty for this time together amidst His garden.
PS: We did manage to make it 7 days on a half tank of water...with the help of 7 gallons of store bought jugs.