The last of the sages

Years ago I went to my first pow-wow, and was surprised to smell what I thought was some rather strange marijuana. I quickly found out it was sage and raw tobacco being burned as a traditional incense. I purchased a bundle of what was described as "white mountain sage" and grew more fond of the burning aroma with use. Whenever I found it in flea markets I'd buy a 6" long and 1" thick wrap of it, usually for around $6, but I've seen it sold for more.

Traveling through the West sage is found everywhere. Cattle don't eat it; it simply grows in poor arid soils as the weed it is. I picked some up near Little Big Horn and carried it for hundreds of miles as it dried tied to my pack, only to be lost somewhere along the way. That was good, for I had to harvest more. It so happened it was in the vicinity of White Mountain Wyoming, so what I thought was "white" sage grown in the mountains was actually a preferred variety from this region. It was apparent the plant itself was more frail, and more pleasant than what I had previously harvested.

I was lost so asked here for directions.
No help. I asked for teriyaki. He said
his wife wasn't here. We found Teri
somewhere else.

Yesterday I harvested some sage along the way to Yakima, Washington. That ride from Richland was interesting for the changes along the way. More farming where the arid landscape is irrigated. Southeast Washington is growing rapidly in the wine industry, but also has peaches, apples, pears, plumbs and other produce. The vineyards are massive cabling systems to hold the grape arbors. The peach harvest is pretty much over, the grapes are still green, the apples are being picked and the pears look ready. It was tempting to pull over and sample, but coming from Florida I am well aware that picking fruit along the road is just wrong.

I bear-ly made it this far...

In Yakima we went for teriyaki, sat under a sycamore, and slept in a Catholic cafeteria. I was in bed by 8, for these 4 am wake-ups are taking their toll on me.

Well rested we head out at sunrise into a brisk wind. Within the first hour we had gusts over 20 mph; not a good sign in the morning for usually the wind picks up as the day goes on. After the first break things calmed down and we climbed 4,000 feet over 50 miles to White Pass.

Bike valet service

No sage grows past here.

As we proceeded the sagebrush gave way to pines, and I had failed to pick a sample of sage. When I realized this I looked harder for some, but the environment apparently was getting too moist for it. Then, just before going through a tunnel I found some alongside the road, growing amongst the rocks. I harvested a bundle, and that was the last I saw any growing. It is a very pleasant and strong sample, quite different from the one I picked just yesterday. This peaks my curiosity as to how many varieties there are, and their qualities. More research is in order, but I'm pretty sure my sampling is done this trip. It grows in higher, dryer elevations than we will find this side of the Cascades.

Upon arriving at White Pass the distant snow capped Mt. Rainier quickly came into view. The ride down the mountain was exhilarating, with 6% grades at two points. I took my time, not going over 40 miles per hour. I don't trust my bicycle for speeds over 50 that could have been attained, and furthermore the views were just too beautiful to pass by. I stopped numerous times to just take the distant views in, as well as look over the edge of the road into the lush forest. This was my favorite ride of the trip.

Tonight we are guests of the Packwood Presbyterian Church. Tomorrow is close to 100 miles with a net loss of elevation by the time we reach Longview; downhill but still another early morning.