Mountain biking and other summer adventures (namely: here's Mama getting her ass kicked)

I will be 45 years old in a few days. I'm heading towards 50, which is half a frigging century old. I got the grey hairs to prove it, and the wrinkles... but to look at the positive side, more wisdom as well.

What I really want to celebrate is the fact that I can keep up with my teenage boys when we go on one of our crazy adventures. 

 Okay, I'm lying. 

I can hang with them, because they wait for me. We went mountain biking in the Methow Valley last week, and we did some pretty gnarly single track biking.

It was heaven. It was sweaty, endorphin-pumping, calorie-consuming, heart-pumping, teeth-clattering fun.

My husband came, too, and we kept high-fiving each other on being able to keep up with the young-uns. Sort of.

You guys, our two day camping and biking trip was so much fun, so gorgeous, so bonding, so lactic-acid producing, so delicious.  You can't believe the amount you food you get to consume when you burn ten thousand calories a day.

I absolutely love the Methow Valley, especially early on in the season when it's not too hot yet, and when the tourists haven't over run it yet.

Not that you meet too many people in these alpine huts you can only get to with some serious sweat equity.

One of the reasons I've been feeling so emotional about this trip is because I don't know how much longer our teenagers want to hang out with us, their parents.  Soon, there will be girlfriends, and peers, and other things to do.

There are some huge changes on our horizon, and I'll let you know about them some other day.

It has been feeling pretty summery here in the Pacific Northwest.  

Of course, as I'm writing this, a rain front is hitting us, but still... We've had some nice hot weather, conducive to swimming and kayaking at Baker Lake.

Another plus of the heat is being able to dry the laundry on the line.  It's nice when the kids help with it.

The roses have been going nuts with all this heat.  I get drunk sniffing them whenever I walk by.

Other flowers in our garden are equally spectacular.  I'm a serious beauty-lover, so our homestead is overflowing with it.  Overflowing with flowers and free-range chicken poop.  The paradox of country living, man.

I will leave you with images of all the track meets we've been cheering at.  The boys and Eva are starting to specialize in the 800 meter race, getting ribbons for second and third place for their age groups.

It was so sweet to watch the brothers coach their little sister, who never ran on a track before.  They ran with her on the grass, to tell her to slow down or pick it up.  

My voice gets sore on the last 100 meter stretch, when all of them give it their best and kick in for a sprint.  Yes, I am competitive.  (Did you know that I was the 100 meter unbeat sprinting champion in my school in Germany as a teenager? Yup. I beat the boys in my class every single time. I told you I'm competitive).

Summer, and why I love living here

I'm writing this post in my backyard, with birds thrilling, bees humming and temperatures soaring to 80 degrees.  The chickens are walking by giving me dirty looks while they are panting through their beaks to cool off.  The goats can spy me through the fence and are yelling for me to give them more water.  

Summer!!!

We've taken full advantage of this weather the past few days.  On the weekend, a bunch of us wild women descended onto Whidbey Island for our friend's bacherolette party.

I love that we only have to drive about an hour West to get to Puget Sound and find spots like these:

And then, when we drive one hour East, we get to places like this:

Our boys went biking in Oregon with friends, so only Steve, Eva and I were home.  A few days ago, we grabbed her best friend and headed over the mountains.  On top of Washington Pass, we found a good amount of snow and took full advantage of it.

Snowballs might have been thrown.  Feet might have gotten wet in melting tarns.  Dogs might have been cuddled in front of a crazy-beautiful-Sound-of -Music-esque backdrop.

We had such a lovely day on the East side.  Getting treats at the Cinnamon Twisp Bakery, walking along raging creeks, playing on playgrounds, drinking cider at the Cider House, picking wildflowers, eating a picnic by the river, watching the two girlies frolic in nature...

I'm so happy that Eva has a best friend like that.  Although our daughter is homeschooled and her friend isn't, they still get to spend as much time as they can together.  

Back home, things are blooming and growing and producing.  This week, a couple of film makers will visit our homestead.  They used to make movies for National Geographic, so they know their stuff.  I'll keep you posted on their project - it sounds like a great one!

I hope you are enjoying the beginning of summer as much as we are!

Back to the patio I go.  Flowers are waiting to be smelled after all.

Oh, and I have to plant beans and cucumbers in the garden.

Do these people ever work? Well. Yes, we do.

Here's one of the reasons I love living where we live: Besides the fact that our spot (also called "the American entrance to the Alps”) is gorgeous, lush and wild, it's only a one and a half hour drive to the East to reach a completely different ecosystem – the Methow Valley, called “the East side” by locals. 

It's like entering another world. Instead of the moisture-loving, towering cedar trees we are used to, the East side sports majestic pines that prefer a dry climate. Instead of ground covered with ferns and moss, the East side grows grasslands and heat-loving alfalfa.

My family loves driving over Washington Pass and descending into the Methow Valley.  We did just that last week, because the highway over the pass is closed all winter, and as soon as it opens, we're on it.  It helped that it was a rainy day here, and we knew that as soon as we crossed over the pass, the sun would shine.

And shine it did.

Washington Pass

We hiked in a place called "Pipestone Canyon", a gorgeous little valley with dramatic rock formations.  It's a haven for rattlesnakes in the summer, but we figured what better time to explore it than now, when it's not too hot and the rattlers won't be out yet (hopefully).

Another favorite place to explore is Patterson Lake, where we tried fishing (no luck), fought the waves in our inflatable kayak, and hiked up Patterson mountain, where wildflowers bloomed their little butts off, and dramatic cloud formations made me swoon.

And now here's the thing: If we drive one and a half hours to the West, we arrive at yet another completely different ecosystem: Puget Sound, where saltwater and islands create another magical playground for exploring.

Last week, we headed that direction as well.  Bowman Bay is one of my favorite places, with a charming backdrop of cute little islands, hikes in all directions, beaches, sand, pebbles, and driftwood to play with.  And a sandy puppy loving everyone up.

If you look at these pictures and think, "Do these people ever work?", I can tell you:  YES!  We work really, really hard!  In fact, I'm writing this early in the morning when my kids are still asleep, and I already milked the goat, checked the other goat for more signs of labor, fed the chickens, cleaned out their coop, fed the ducks, weeded the garden a little, and put away dishes.

Steve left at 5am to work.

The day has many, many more chores in store.  So if you read my blog and look at all the pictures showing us goofing off, and if you are wondering how we could live such a life, here is how:

We choose to live simply.  We homeschool our kids.  We prioritize quality time with family.  We know that our children will grow up very, very soon, and we want to give them experiences that will shape them, and we believe that time in nature, time with us, will do that.

Our kids work hard, too.  They have to help on the homestead, learn to be disciplined, take leadership and initiative on projects.  They deserve down-time and fun times.

This week, I will leave you with random images around our place.

Eva collected acorns, shelled them all herself and made a feast for the squirrels, which she set out on a plate, decorated and put in front of a cedar tree (in case a fairy or two were hungry as well).

On a walk to one of our wild creeks, kids and puppy explored the sand bank.

Yours truly milking the goat, while at the same time teaching the puppy that it is NOT okay to put her nose into the milk bucket.

Eva saying good morning to the puppy, who is trying to gnaw on her bone while also giving her friend a high five.

Me saying goodbye to the two goat babies I grew really attached to.  I sold them to a good home, knowing that I can't keep every baby goat born on the homestead.  See the heart on her back?  

PS: I published a post on why making cheese is so much easier than you think on the Molly Green Magazine blog. Read it here.