I couldn't spend the weekend drinking wine the whole time.  We needed to get out, exercise, see the area besides the wineries.  There is a lot to the Palouse.  Being late Autumn we were pushing the limits before temperatures dropped too much and the snow flew.  However we found a great little trail just inside the Oregon boarder along a gravel road to hike.  It meandered along the creek crossing it back and forth until it petered out.  We talked, and laughed and just walked life together in this natural autumn setting. 


 

A weekend spent touring the wineries of Walla Walla with friends.  It was an amazing time.  there are essentially five main terroir or growing regions in the Walla Walla area.  We started our tour at the Westside with Woodward Winery and L'Ecole Winery right next door.  One thing we learned from our friends, Justin and Amy, is to bring our own food/snacks. Wine tastes better with food, also it helps with the alcohol content to diminish it's effects.  Each of the wineries we went to had tasting fees that were waived by purchasing a bottle or two of wine and so we did load up for the year.  We also visited Woodward Canyon, Seven Hills, Tranche, Three Rivers and Waterbrook.  I think my favorite was Tranche.  Their tasting room was a tent by a fire pit in the middle of their vineyards.  It felt more authentic than the others.  I think I would also have divided our time by region:  Westside, Eastside, Southside, Airport and Downtown.  The downtown and airport district were more of tasting rooms than near the vineyards.  We brought with us our Wine Folly book which helped out tremendously.  We had also learned a bit about tasting wine before going.  I admit I sometimes buy wine based on the label yet mostly on cost.  When I find a wine I like, I buy it again and again.  After coming back home, I tried looking for wines specifically from Walla Walla that I liked to augument my "wine collection".





 

On one of our yearly trips to Montana we listened to the story of the Sager Children who used the Oregon trail to travel to Walla Walla Washington.  While on the trail both of their parents ended up passing away and they continued on alone.  That story was "Seven Alone".  It is based on the true story of the Sager Children although I am not sure how much was fact and how much was embellished. It was so long ago that we listened to it.  Fast forward to now and we found ourselves at the historic Whitman Mission site.  The museum itself was closed but we could walk the trails.  It was a beautiful autumn day in the Walla Walla valley with long wavy grass and blue sky that stretch forever. We first climbed to the monument on the hill that overlooks the area.  From here you can see the mission site and the area of the Native American encampment.  So much tragedy on both sides.  Then we started down the hill, wandering around the restored mill pond and apple orchard, the irrigation area, and the footprints of the old mission buildings.  It was nice to have some background knowledge of who lived here and how they came to be here. This was worth the visit for sure.




 

Can you call this a hidden gem in Montana?  It seems like there are so many that the whole state should be a hidden gem of the US. This "little" gem is tucked away in the south eastern corner of the state, just above Yellowstone Park. To access this beautiful area, you must want to go there specifically because the road ends at East Rosebud Lake. The closest town is Roscoe, Montana and you must search that out as well.  The drive to lake is just as beautiful as the lake itself.  Rolling pasture lands, small creeks, campgrounds, looming mountains, lush evergreen forests, and wild grass hills are just a few of the sites to see on the way to the lake.  We started off in a little town called Bear Creek just over the hill from Red Lodge which is an iconic rustic Montana town at the base of the Beartooth Mountains. It is a destination spot for winter skiers and summer vacationers. We would through the beautiful country side exploring campgrounds and potential fly fishing holes until we arrived at the lake and the East Rosebud trail head. This is only accessible during the warm months.  For as soon as the snow falls in autumn the road is no longer maintained and isn't opened until the snow melts in the late spring. It was a perfect Saturday afternoon drive on a warm autumn day. 







 

 

Part of my time in Montana was spent with my grandmother.  She lives across the road from my Aunt and just up the hill from the quilt shop.  During the day I would work on the shop and in the evenings I was able to spend time with my grandmother playing games.  Let me tell you she is ruthless with cutthroat and hand and foot.  She is hard to beat.  I don't think any of us ever won.  She just casually and calmly looks over the board, taking her time only to swoop in and send you home.  You think you have it made but she has a knack of rolling the dice just right to land right on your spot. And then she will smile softly and say "Oh dear." I think she's sharper than any of us at the table. And yes she still does her crossword puzzles. 

 

This year I had the opportunity to travel to Montana to help out with a project.  This old mining office has gone through quite a few renovations and uses.  It originally started out as a mining office. Later a post office shared the space.  When the mine went dormant so did this building.  In fact most of the building in this small Montana town quietly went away.  However this building remained.  In later years someone bought it, added the little lean to partition and used it for a wood shop.  Again it closed it's doors and waited for another owner.  This time the next owner saw the potential of the building and preserved many of the original components such as the safe with 4 foot brick walls surrounding it, the original wood floors were brought back to life as well as the wood work around the windows and doors.  It became a destination for quilters around the state and from beyond.  This is the location of the Washoe Quilt Shop ran by my Aunt..  My Grandmother was in the shop daily sewing and working on her quilts.  My other Aunt and my Mother would take turns coming to help out at the shop as well.  After more than 10 years, my Aunt decided to retire and this building is going through another change.  We will see what it becomes next.  I spent a week with my mother, aunts, uncle, cousins working on the building.  We scraped and primed our way around the outside of the building; using a genie, and climbing up and down scaffolding and ladders.  I remember as a kid my grandmother always had a project or two going with different houses.  She once bought a house that had ceiling that were painted bright tangerine orange with lime green beams.  The ceilings were 18 plus feet and she erected scaffolding so she and my mother could zip strip the color off and then stain it bringing it back to it's original beauty.  Each of my aunts and my mother have had projects of one thing or another going, never sitting still. This project wasn't any different as everyone got involved.  I saw a cousin whom I haven't seen for almost twenty years.  I couldn't believe it was that long and we live in the same state.  During the week I was there a momma grizzly and her two cubs were wandering the gullies munching on huckleberries getting ready for the winter.  We were advised not to walk alone in the evenings and one morning awoke to a mess the bears made with the garbage as well as going through a picket fence to get to the bird feeders. I didn't ever get to see those bears.  Slept right through all the mayhem they created.

 

An annual tradition is to pick wild blackberries. We gather our supplies; gallon ice cream buckets with twine, a glove to hold the prickly vines, wipes for our hands because of the berry juice, and thick soled shoes.  Just a mile or so away is an abandoned parking lot which is overgrown with blackberry bushes.  Parking the truck we make our way to the bushes.  Starting on one side we each stake out our little area to pick. this year Lona has been making smoothies quite a bit and asked to go with us so that she can stock up her smoothie supply.  She makes the most delicious and healthy smoothies and blackberries are a key ingredient in them. We filled three quarters of our gallon buckets in about an hour.  It was enough.  We headed home to pick through the berries, wash them. lay them out on a cookie sheet and freeze them.  After being frozen we placed them into individual quart bags just big enough for pies or a couple of smoothies to hold us over for winter.




 

We rounded the bend in the road and dipped down to the where the lake and the road intersect. I gasped and begged John to stop.  Just for a moment. The sky was covered with the wildfire smoke but I felt that it only added to the beauty of area.  I pulled out my camera and wandered to the boat house half submerged in the water to take a few photos. A group of kayakers slipped by under the bridge and out of sight. Although our boats were in the back of the truck we had only used them once on this quick trip.  We had all of our gear and really no reason to rush home except for work waiting for us the next day. We could easily spend a few hours exploring Lake Diablo.  I hesitated to ask but I was pulled, almost memorized by the scenery and pleaded to take the time. We drove to the other side to unload our kayaks and gear so we could explore by boat. The hull of the kayaks scraped along the rocky shore as we drug them to the water.  Pushing off from the shore the boats gently glided into the water.  We turned towards the bridge and quietly made our way under as cars rushed passed overhead. Following the shoreline we made our way towards the narrow passage between the two hills.  The further into the lade we went the quieter it became until we couldn't hear the noise of the road anymore.  It became tranquil and peaceful.  The lake was calm and each ripple from the paddle melted into each other until it disappeared. Rounding the bend we came upon a small island with enough room for a tree or two. we silently paddled around and decided it was the perfect place to claim as a small oasis.  We pulled alongside the rocky island, finding a small cove like area we beached our kayaks and found the perfect spot to relax and close our eyes. We became almost invisible as if we were in another world altogether.  Then the magic dissipated, it was time to return.  Slipping back into our kayaks we made our way back towards the bridge and our truck.  It was a nice diversion for the way home since we were not in a hurry.