Vernon was born in the Pacific Northwest and still lives in the shadow of Mt. Hood, near the small town where he grew up. Vernon has spent decades wandering the hills, hunting mushrooms, camping and riding motorcycles into the remotest nooks and crannies to be found in the region.
Amy went out Thursday to get a campsite. She took Clementine with her. Walter and I came up on the bike when I got off work Friday afternoon.
We tried out some new camp equipment, including this REI Halfdome +3 tent we bought ourselves last Christmas.
We ate and drank and talked and dozed. Mostly we just sat around in the woods with each other and the dogs, and that was just fine.
Rueben hand pie– corned beef, kraut, swiss cheese, & horseradish, roasted between two slices of rye bread in the pie iron. Washed down with Local Logger from Everybody’s Brewing.
Walter loves a hidey hole. We had to have him tied up because Moss Creek is a developed campground. He could reach this hollow stump and his bed under the vestible at the tent without getting tangled.
Cooking hamburgers for dinner in a cast iron skillet Friday evening.
It’s not camping if you aren’t roasting peeps.
Amy’s morning expresso on the Coleman stove, next to bacon frying in the skillet. We were going to have blackberry pancakes for breakfast Saturday, but the berries had gone moldy. We ended up having pancakes topped with fresh peaches and maple syrup, which was almost as good.
Walt and Clem napping.
Andy and his dog, Oreo, dropped by to visit on Saturday.
There were some basket trees down by the creek behind the camp.
These plants had a cluster of leaves at the base with long, slender stalks above, bearing tiny, white flowers, and later, sharp, slender seeds. The plants lined the trails. The stalks were just the right height to snag passing animals, embedding burrs in their coats.
Heating water for peppermint tea before bedtime.
Amy found a tasty recipe for stuffed peppers in Backpacker Magazine. The twisted foil handles were her own innovation.