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Much of our attraction to visiting the Seattle area is in the wide diversity of nearby activities. Our time was made even more special because we were able to spend it with friends. Our first weekend, Lisa and Gino drove up from Portland. We spent most of Saturday touring the sights in downtown Seattle. The four of us capped off that evening with a delicious dinner at a marvelous little Sicilian restaurant in Magnolia, a Seattle neighborhood. Which brings us to the first of today’s many mentions of George Vancouver, the British captain and explorer.

In 1791 Vancouver’s expedition left England tasked with charting the west coast of North America, including the extent of the Strait of Juan de Fuca. So it should come as no surprise that Vancouver was responsible for many of the place names in the Puget Sound area, including Magnolia’s. During his voyage, probably in 1792, Vancouver sighted a group of trees growing on a bluff above the water. From a distance Vancouver thought they were magnolias and he marked them as such in the ship’s log. Technically, Vancouver made a mistake: the trees were in fact Pacific Madrones, not magnolias—but the name stuck. Interestingly, there are still some Pacific Madrones clinging to life on the bluff, and a group of concerned citizens is advocating for their protection.

The next morning dawned foggy and cool as do many mornings along the Sound. Thankfully the sun soon came out and cleared things right up. It was a big day for us, we were going kayaking out by Deception Pass in Puget Sound. While Lance and I both had some previous kayaking experience, Lisa and Gino had none which wasn’t a problem since our trip was a short beginner’s version. Our biggest difficulty had been coaxing Gino into the adventure. Actually, most of that burden fell on Lisa; we just offered reassuring words about overall safety and lack of wetness. I almost blew the whole trip out of the water when I truthfully answered Gino, that yes, there were sharks in the Sound. Lisa and Lance almost killed me for that one. (But there are!)

As often happens (at least in my experience), the uncertainty leading up to a new event was far scarier than the actual event. Within minutes of being on the water Gino relaxed and we all had a wonderful time. Our trip was a mellow paddle, pushing off from the beach at Bowman Bay and cruising along the sea cliffs. Since the tide was out we were able to see some brightly colored sea stars and other tide pool residents. Before long we spotted two Bald Eagles watching us from above, and around the bend we became the objects of inquiry of a small family of Harbor Seals.

We couldn’t have asked for a better day: warm and sunny—yet not hot—and the water, which can be quite treacherous further out by Deception Pass, was calm. Deception Pass is yet another of Vancouver’s many naming efforts. During the summer of 1792 Vancouver and his men explored the many islands and inlets of Puget Sound (which Vancouver had named after his lieutenant, Peter Puget). When they discovered that the large mass of land jutting out into the sound was not a peninsula, but in fact the sound’s largest island, Vancouver named it Whidbey Island after his assistant Joseph Whidbey. The waterway that Vancouver had previously mistaken for a bay, he then charted as Deception Pass.

That afternoon it was time once again to say goodbye to our dear friends Lisa and Gino. This time was even harder since we knew not when we would see them again. At least when we left Portland a few weeks earlier we knew we’d be seeing them soon. Ah, the bittersweetness of life. But wait, before we leave Puget Sound I need to tell you about the Pig War. Never heard of it? Well, don’t worry, it was more of an incident than a real war. In fact, it was almost comical.

As you may remember, in 1846 the United States and Britain signed the Oregon Treaty which established Canada’s southern boundary. The treaty drew a line along the 49th parallel on land and through “the middle of the channel which separates the continent from Vancouver Island, and thence southerly through the middle of the said channel, and of [Juan de] Fuca’s Straits, to the Pacific Ocean.” Sounds pretty straight forward except that there are actually two “middles” of the channel: Haro and Rosario Straits, one on either side of the San Juan Islands.

The San Juan Islands remained a gray area with both countries claiming them. In 1856 a joint British and U.S. commission failed to resolve the issue since both sides adamantly insisted the islands were theirs. As the politicians were politicking, the Hudson’s Bay Company quickly established a sheep ranch on San Juan. Fertile land in the west was open to settlement under U.S. law and in 1859 a group of twenty-some American settlers arrived on the same island and set up land claims. At first it seemed the two sides would be able to share the island peaceably, but then one day, a British pig was discovered rooting around in an American’s potato field (dunt, dunt, DUN!).

The trespasser was shot and killed on the spot. The pig’s owner demanded payment for the loss of his valuable swine while the potato farmer demanded restitution for his damaged field. This insignificant incident, which would be settled in small claims court these days, soon escalated into a diplomatic nightmare. When British authorities started arrest procedures against the farmer, the Americans demanded and received military protection. Sixty-six U.S. troops were sent to the island while Britain sent three warships. The two armies aimed cannons at each other and prepared for battle.

Thankfully, just as the tense situation was about to explode into yet another war between the two countries, British Rear Admiral Robert L. Baynes refused an order to attack. Baynes felt that “two great nations in a war over a squabble about a pig” was utter nonsense. Within a few months the countries negotiated a joint occupation agreement and war was averted. Once again, the agreement failed to solve the ownership problem of the San Juan Islands. It wasn’t until October 1872 that an international commission led by Kaiser Wilhelm I of Germany decided in favor of the U.S. claim. See, diplomacy can work, it just takes a while…

By now we were heading into our second weekend in the Seattle area which we kicked off by hanging out with another good friend, Elissa. Originally a Washingtonian, Elissa had moved to Tucson about five years ago for a job, and—let’s face it—the great weather. Which is where we met a few years back. Earlier this summer Elissa received a job offer she couldn’t resist so she moved back up to Seattle. It worked out well: now she is near family again, and we had a chance to get together and catch up. As we relaxed over dinner, Elissa shared her vast knowledge of the area with us, which helped the next day as we headed into the North Cascades.

One might think that as we moved eastward into the mountainous region known as the North Cascades we’d step out of the sphere of influence held by British captain Vancouver. Au contraire, dear readers. The highest prominence in the North Cascades bears the name Mount Baker, a gift from Vancouver. On April 30, 1792, Joseph Baker (Vancouver’s Third Lieutenant) spied the snow-capped peak from the ship, thus earning his geographical place name.

Mount Baker and nearby Glacier Peak are oddities as they are the only two volcanoes in the North Cascades. Mount Baker claims two further distinctions as both the northernmost, and one of the youngest volcanoes in the entire Cascade Range (California to Canada). Though Mount Baker is considered an active volcano, it has never produced any major eruptions, unlike its Cascade relatives to the south, Mount St. Helens and Lassen Peak. Though Mount Baker dominates the North Cascades—we could see it as we were kayaking in the Sound the week before—it was hidden behind gray clouds the day we visited the area.

For our day of exploring we followed SR 20—aptly named the North Cascades Highway—a seasonal road that is closed by snow in winter. It is the only road that cuts through the North Cascades on the American side. (For those of you who really know your roads, US Hwy 2 is considered to define the southern border of the North Cascades and therefore doesn’t count.) The scenic highway follows the Skagit River, the river with the third largest watershed on the west coast of the U.S. after the Columbia and Sacramento Rivers.

The power of the Skagit River has long been harnessed much like the Columbia River to the south. Work began on the first hydroelectric dam, the Gorge Dam, in 1921 and power was delivered to Seattle within three years. Diablo Dam and Ross Dam soon followed creating large lakes of the same names. Called the Skagit River Project all three dams were built by Seattle City Light—a public utility—in order to provide electricity to the fast-growing city. Currently the project’s dams provide a quarter of Seattle’s electric power needs.

As part of the project Seattle City Light built two company towns, Newhalem and Diablo. We stopped in to take a look around the quiet and immaculate community of Newhalem, the larger of the two. While the General Store and the small information center were open to the public the rest of the buildings were strictly off-limits. Interested in moving to the sleepy little burg nestled in the Skagit River Valley? Too bad, unless you work for Seattle City Light or one of the government agencies they have agreements with, you can not live in Newhalem. I understand the company needs employee housing for their dam workers, but I thought “company towns” were a thing of the past.

We had been drawn to the area to learn more about North Cascades National Park. As it turned out we didn’t set one foot in the park all day, not even when we stopped at the Park’s Visitor Center. Much of the SR 20 corridor that we drove along, as well as the river, dams, and lakes, are included in the Ross Lake National Recreation Area which splits the North Cascades National Park into two sections, the North and South Units. In order to technically take a walk in the Park we would have had to hike through rugged terrain for quite a few miles, something we were not prepared to do that day. But now we know.

We were glad to learn that much of the North Cascades region has been set aside and protected, though not as one discreet unit. Instead there exists a rather confusing mish-mash of national park, national recreation areas, and wilderness areas, each offering varying levels of protection and restrictions. Here is the full list, to the best of my knowledge: Mount Baker Wilderness, Glacier Peak Wilderness, Boulder River Wilderness, Henry M. Jackson Wilderness, Lake Chelan-Sawtooth Wilderness, Noisy-Diobsud Wilderness, Pasayten Wilderness, Stephen Mather Wilderness, Ross Lake National Recreation Area, Mount Baker National Recreation Area, and North Cascades National Park. And that’s just on the U.S. side, Canada has also created several parks protecting sections of their North Cascades. I read somewhere that over ten million acres in the North Cascades have been set aside by the government, which is an astounding amount of land.

Our time in the Seattle area was quickly winding down. Before we left we managed to squeeze in visits to the Hiram M. Chittenden Locks and Fish Ladder, Edmonds Marsh, the Boeing Factory in Everett, and the Red Hook Brewery in nearby Woodinville. We had a wonderful stay in the area, enhanced by visits with friends but also by interesting new experiences. Which when we stop and examine our roaming lifestyle, are the things we treasure most: time spent with friends and family and learning new things.

Photos: View our photographs from Seattle, Washington and From Sound to River.

Dates: We stayed in the Seattle area from 07/27/08 to 08/15/08 and visited the North Cascades on 08/09/08.