Pat joined the inner city alternative school a couple of years after I got there in 1969. We became fast friends spending many weekends out in the wilds: Building igloos near Crystal Mountain Ski area and then ski mountaineering to the ridge systems, descending to our snow palace; climbing in the Cascades or Yosemite Valley; glacier hopping on Mount Rainer or ascending Liberty Ridge; cross county skiing on Shuksan. The list goes on. He is a ‘brother’ and a friend – 36 years and counting.
We hooked up the utility trailer to the Chevy and kidnapped Chris, Pat’s partner, from her veterinary clinic then drove down to the Snake River to gather rocks for Pat’s rock garden. My arrival time was spot-on because Pat had load limits. He was restricted to 10 pounds of lifting weigh due to recent back surgery so he was the rock spotter while Chris and I hauled the boulders to the trailer. Half way through the job we took a break to watch the Washington State University Crew row by on the still waters of the dammed up might Snake.
I was continually struck by the contrast of the river bottom terrain and the uplands that dominated the rest of the southeast corner of my state. The shades of browns and grays; of cliffs and rolling hills of the Palouse - incredibly different from western Washington with its evergreen forests and saltwater bays and sounds. With a trailer full of rocks, the pickup got the job done hauling the weight up and out of the river canyon on the rural back road. Hopefully this was the last load of many to complete his project.
On Friday Pat and I teamed up to epoxy paint the centerboard on his San Juan 21. It was fun spending time. It would be really cool to go sailing with him on Lake Pend Oreille someday.
Even though cousin Mac and Sandy with Pat and Chris in Pullman were a strong force to stay, the urge to travel overcame me so at 5 p.m. I headed south toward the Wallowas.
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