Camping, Finally! Naches

Flynn and Ollie, like the rest of the world, have been anxious to get out of the nest for a few days to clear their heads and get some fresh air.

Mission accomplished as they made their way to Naches, WA to camp along the river for 3 nights. They landed at the Squaw Creek Campground, a very well kept facility, right on the Naches river. Their site was less than 50 feet from the river bank, and the sound of it rushing by was glorious. There was a nice fire-pit, and a new clean picnic table. After unhooking the 5th wheel, all that was left to do was put up their paws and crack open a beer.

As F & O were expecting other campers to join them the following day, they whipped out their communication devices to update the others with logistics, time frames, and so forth. Joke on F&O though, cause lo and behold, no cell service and no G. Because they had arrived 5 minutes after the office had closed, they were not able to officially check in and get the wi-fi password. No worries, Flynn is at a campground, and he knows how to use his resources. He trots off to another site across the way, where Mr Neighbor-man is prepping some giant hunk of meat to put in his smoker. This guy has obviously been in camp for a while, by the looks of all his toys. His woman stays inside the trailer throughout the interaction. Without much ado, he rolls his eyes and informs Flynn that there is no wi-fi, no services at all. F & O are incommunicado. Well, la-de-dah. Flynn and Ollie slept like rocks, the rain and river lulling them to sleep, and no incoming texts or email to divert them from a true R&R experience.

A word about Mr Neighbor-man and the ‘other’ WA state: The one and only question he asked Flynn was if he was from the west-side. For those who are not familiar, WA state is really two different places, the wet side and the dry side: the West and the East. They are separated by a huge mountain range. The two WAs are opposites in almost every way ~ terrain, weather, industry, and politics. The wet side is blue, the dry side is red. Since Flynn and Ollie are stuffed animals, they don’t judge. Okay, they do judge, but they observe first, then judge by actions of the individual rather than pre-judging by residency, religion, race, blahblahblah….. Mr Neighbor-man, not as much. He clearly had pegged F&O as Westsiders who had no business being in the woods, fretting about lack of wi-fi. Well, Mr Neighbor-man, we really don’t mind how you view us, as we are just going to mind our own business across the way. Like the bear theme at this campground, you don’t bother us and we won’t bother you.

Mr Neighbor-man baited Ollie the following morning, as a drone came by and hovered outside F&O’s home. It just hung out by the open window – not by the river 50 feet away, nor elevated to look at Squaw Rock, nor otherwise put to good drone use. Nope, the drone just hovered in the empty campsite next to F&O. Ollie is a drone otter. He is a professional drone otter. Therefore, a human with a drone in his space calls for bonding, drone conversation and drone comparison. Out Ollie went, to talk to Mr Neighbor-man about his drone. Mr Neighbor-man answered in one-syllable words and clearly did not want to bond. Mr Neighbor-man then sneered when Ollie asked where he could get firewood (“You are in the woods – all you need is a chainsaw. It is all over the place. “). Mr Neighbor-man flew his drone over to the next occupied campsite over, in a show-off move. The folks at that site made it clear they were not pleased. Mr Neighbor-man muttered and zoomed his drone high up in the sky, way way up out of sight and…… lost it. Error. No drone. Gone. Ollie did not roll his eyes. He just walked back to the F&O residence and started laughing. End of (this) story.

Flynn and Ollie inquired about a fishing site from a (friendlier) local, and headed up a forest service road to Milk Lake with their poles in hand. It was a pleasant 20 minute drive up to the pond. Not a lake, it is a pond. It had geese and ducks. It was small. It was surrounded by a game trail, which proved hazardous for birds and otters and humans. Flynn and Ollie baited hooks, and gave it the ol’ college try. No love from the fish, but a nice day all in all, before returning to camp to greet the incoming campers.

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The arrival of fellow campers, both k9 and human, necessitated happy hour and breaking out the bar-b-qs. There was no fresh caught fish that night, but there was still food-a-plenty. A campfire was built using a fire-stick (no matches or lighters, no lighter fluid, and no paper for the Westsiders). Marshmallows were roasted, stories were told, and a good time was had by all before hitting the sack. No rain, but wind and cool temps made for a cozy night.

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The following day the group divided and conquered. Several members went fishing, while the hardier of the bunch went for a strenuous hike to look for sheds. Don’t feel bad, Flynn was confused by this too. Not the building kind of shed, the other kind of shed. “Shed” is a made-up-by-someone-word for “antlers”. They went looking for antlers that had been shed by moose (or deer?).

Flynn and Ollie were in the group that went fishing. The local recommendation for this day’s choice was a more central and populated location called ‘Tim’s Hole’. It is a developed fishing hole. It had asphalt docks, potties, and a real trail that went around the hole ( again not a lake). There were stocked fish in this hole. Flynn caught several (3), and Alex (the youngest of the group) caught the biggest one. Packed lunches were enjoyed at a picnic table along Tieton river between bait-bites, and one flamingo got a bit of a sunburn – oops. Turns out that when one actually has success at fishing one needs a stringer (thanks Brando) , knowledge of how to get a hook out of a trout’s mouth (thanks neighbor fisherman), and some hand-sanitizer (fish are slimey).

Their stringer full, F&O headed into Naches to check email, buy cherries, and try out the local drive-thru espresso joint. Back at camp in the late afternoon, it was time for corn hole, Farkle, and of course happy hour with the entire gang. Alex cleaned his trout all by himself, Brando and Ollie did the rest. Dinner was trout for all who wanted it, as well as whatever else was in the coolers. A campfire was lit again without matches, and a dozen ‘smores were consumed. Flynn and Ollie are still trying to figure out the rules to the sardine, frozen broccoli, and tuna game.

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Sadly, the following morning was check-out day. The drive back over the mountains was uneventful and stunning. Flynn and Ollie picked up a homemade banana cream pie as payment for the neighbors taking care of the jerk cat. Speaking of the jerk cat, Jones Morse was thrilled to see Flynn and Ollie return unscathed, but couldn’t hide his disappointment that F&O didn’t save him any fish.

Flynn and Ollie wish they could do this every month. It was fun, and they love their friends. Take care, everyone. Wash your hands.

Fin

Flynn