First Peoples Gallery

As part of our Victoria BC tour we stopped at the Royal British Columbia Museum. I enjoyed the partial HMS Discovery replica in the Modern History gallery and the forests in the Natural History section. I was not prepared for the impact that the First Peoples Galley would have upon me.

Part of my apprecation of this art stems from my time in the Boy Scouts.


But there was something deeper that I cannot explain.


I just know that I need to return someday and marvel at this place.


To let it soak in even deeper.

Remembering Renwick 'Ed' Dayton

I got a rare treat as I drove North up Highway 101 on Saturday. It was so clear that I could see Mount Baker, nearly centered on the blue green waters of the Hood Canal. Many times in clear and cloudy have I driven along here, but I could never recall a day where I could see this giant of the North Cascades from here.

I was not here on a lark nor did I have any hiking or climbing scheduled for the weekend. Rather I was going to Camp Parsons to say goodbye to Ed Dayton, who was tragically killed in an automobile /motorcycle accident.

Ed was on the Camp Parsons Staff when I was a Scout, before I joined the staff. He was one of those guys that I looked up to as a Scout. When I was backpacking with the Camp Parsons High Adventure program it was Ed that picked us up at the trail head.

After I had worked on the Parsons Staff I frequently saw Ed at the work parties. One could not help to admire his smile and firm handshake. He always looked happy to see me. And it was always a treat to witness his sense of humor. So it was a shock read that he was gone.

So many of us gathered at Campfire Point to celebrate his life. It seemed fitting and proper that we were sitting on the very benches that Ed helped build. I grieved that I had lost a role model, that camp had lost a great supporter, and that we had lost a friend.

John Moen recording stories about Ed

Silver Marmot Grill

Saturday I volunteered at the monthly maintenance party at Camp Parsons and ended up tearing things apart. This time it was the porch of the Silver Marmot Grill, a building that is 90 years old.

Actually it was the backhoe that was responsible for most of the destruction, I just had to clean up after all of the carnage. With the porch removed, I as able to see the original structure and how they had renovated upon that in the 1960s. We could also see where some of the original beams had been removed and replaced about 12 years ago where part of the structure had rotted.

Even more shocking was to see the inside of the building after it had been gutted out. The small office where I had spent two summers as the Business Manager is gone. The plan is to move the Trading Post into the Program Office, making more room from offices and a meeting room.

Olympic Peninsula Trip

Once again the spell of the Olympic Peninsula beckoned and I heeded its call.  This time I drove up to Camp Parsons for their Friday Night Campfire.  The mountains were hidden by a thick layer of clouds as I drove along Highway 101.  I made it just in time for the campfire.  It was so nostalgic to participate in the songs and traditions at camp.  It was even better hanging out with Anne and Anton Kramer and their family.  I even got to eat some of Jack's birthday cake and listen to Monica tell me about her backpacking trip to Lena Lake.  I had such a nice time I forgot my toothbrush there.

Heading back south on Saturday I turned off Highway 101 at Hoodsport and entered Olympic National Park at Staircase.  My plan was to hike up to Wagonwheel Lake.  And just in case one missed this warning about the difficulty of this hike...

...the National Park Service posted a second sign.

Most of the time I hike with groups.  From time to time I need to hike by myself, so I'm not distracted by the conversations or responsibilities.  The way things have been going I needed some solitude to sort out my thoughts.  I needed an opportunity to watch the lichen flutter in the breeze, to observe how wisps of clouds playfully dance in the air, and notice how a Grouse carefully inches down a fallen log.

After reaching the egg shaped Wagonwheel Lake I could not resist checking out an unmaintained trail that led from the lake to a point 700 feet above the lake.  I found the trail, took a compass bearing, and headed upward.  Upon arrival at that point I was treated to a brief view of Saint Peter's Gate, Mt. Washington, Mt. Ellinor, Copper Mountain, and some of the Sawtooth Range.  Then the clouds returned.  It occurred to me that perhaps sometimes we live in the clouds, unable to see the big picture.  Then forces greater than ourselves, on their schedule, clear out the fog and provide a moment of clarity.  That though gave me a sense of peace as I ate my lunch, surrounded by clouds.

Tremble with Fear

Yesterday I drove to Camp Parsons to attend the Friday Night Campfire.  While I avoided the traffic in Portland and Vancouver, I was held up by traffic in Shelton (?!?) and maintenance of the Duckabush River Bridge.  As usual, it was a treat to drive up and down Highway 101 along the Hood Canal.  When I arrived it hit me that with exception of the camp management, I did not know many of the staff members.  I did get the opportunity to get meet some of the new faces on the staff, some of whom came up to me and introduced themselves.  I also saw staff members walking around that were toddlers when I last saw them.

The skits and songs during the campfire were a nice mix of material that was old and new to me.  There was one skit, Falling Rock, that I had performed long ago and since forgotten.  During the evening shivers ran down my spine as familiar tunes and words triggered memories of times spent with staffers of my generation.  

Just as important as attending the campfire was catching up with those that I know.  The interesting dynamic is that I am a guest and they are on the job, so I appreciated the chance to spend some time with my fellows.  It was good to see that the Kramers (parents and kids) are having a great time at camp.  It is also refreshing to see the improvements the staff have made in the program since my time.  

One interesting side note, on the way home I stopped at the Janzen Beach Shopping Center to take care of an errand.  In the parking lot a troop of Boy Scouts from the Seattle area was debarking from a bus.  When I asked them where they were going, I found out they were from my home town of Kirkland, returning from a week at Camp Meriwether on the Oregon Coast.

Camp Parsons 90th Summer Celebration

This weekend I participated in the celebration of the 90th summer of Camp Parsons.  The first part was a dinner Friday evening at the Museum of Flight near Boeing Field.  There must have been two hundred people in attendance.  We have often talked about the Power of Parsons, how our experiences and relationship at this camp have left a deep mark in our psyche.  The fact that former staffers have come from Oregon, Idaho, Texas, Massaschuttes, and Alaska serves as evidence of this.   There was one person in attendance that had attended camp in 1925!  Anyway, it was overwhelming to catch up with some many people, some of whom I had not seen for 15 years.  I also got a pleasant surprise when I saw my favorite high school English teacher, who was a staffer in the 1970s.

The program included a wonderful meal, followed by a speech by Parsons staff alumnus Dan Evans, who was Washington State Governor and United States Senator.  Governor Evans shared some stories about climbing in the Olympics Mountains and taking the boat from Seattle to camp.  Although there is an approximate forty year difference between my tenure at camp and that of Governor Evans, I could strongly related to his experiences.  In addition to an audio/video presentation, there was a performance of the song 'Cows with Guns'.

Saturday morning I drove to camp to continue the celebration.  I took the Washington State Ferry from Edmonds to Kingston.  Along the journey I passed through the town of Port Gamble, which was deep within a Civil War Reenactment.

At camp the celebration consisted of a picnic lunch, Staff and Camper Pictures by decade, and a dedication of a new Arboretum.  However, the most meaningful part of the weekend was spending time with my brethren.  Whether reliving memories, meeting the children of my fellows, or just hanging out in Queets cabin, I think it is the relationships that is really the secret sauce of the Power of Parsons.

The weekend did not end as I pulled out of the camp parking lot.  Sunday I hiked along the South Fork of the Skokomish River with my Parsons friend Scott and his girlfriend Kristine.  Due to hidden Forest Service Road markers it took awhile to get to the trail head, so we passed the time by playing One Fat Hen.  Once we got on the trail we were treated to a wonderful walk past gigantic Douglas Firs, Western Red Cedars, and Silver Firs.  Even the Trillium flowers were big on this hike.  After 2.2 miles we hit deep snow, which seemed like a good place to turn around.

Camp Parsons Work Party

This weekend I attended the Adult Work Party at Camp Parsons.  As usual, it was a great opportunity to catch up with some of my camp friends and to help the camp get ready for the upcoming summer.  As an added bonus, I got to see two short videos taken of Parsons in the 1930s.  It was also neat to see the cedar posts being carved for a gazebo that will be built on a piece of property that was purchased a couple of years ago.

O'Neil Expedition Banner

Tonight the Mazamas put on an appreciation dinner for their Hike Leaders at the Mazama Mountaineering Center.  Of particular interest to me was the contents of the display case in the back of the auditorium.  The Mazamas Museum has a rotating display, currently there are some items from the Oregon Alpine Club.  Included was a banner from the O'Neil Expedition, which played a major role in the exploration of the Olympic Mountains.  Those of you who are familiar with the history of the exploration of the Olympics Mountains know that the O'Neil Expedition was organized by the US Army and the Oregon Alpine Club.  Here is where my experiences with Camp Parsons and the Mazamas merge.  It was the Parsons High Adventure Backpacking trips that started my love affair with the Olympic Mountains.  As a Camp Parsons staffer my appreciation of these mountains grew deeper.  After camp staff I have continued to explore the peaks and valleys with both fellow Parsons staffers and Mazamas friends.  To see a piece of history of the Olympic Mountain exploration in the home of an organization that I am active in was very meaningful to me.  

So what is the connection between the Mazamas and the Oregon Alpine Club?  Before there was the Mazamas, there was the Oregon Alpine Club.  The club faded in part because they shifted their focus from mountaineering to promoting tourism.  In July 1894 the mountaineers from the Oregon Alpine Club gathered on the summit of Mt. Hood and founded the Mazamas.  To make sure that it remained a climbing organization, they mandated that to become a member, one must climb a mountain with a living glacier.  That is still a requirement today.