Saying Adiós to the 2024 School Year

 

A sweet note from one of my amazing maestras invitadas

The wind down to the end of the 2023/2024 school year is bittersweet. I am signing yearbooks and packing away school supplies and posters, and while I am looking forward to the rest and rejuvenation that summer brings I will miss these kids. Last year I discovered the power of positive phone calls which helped me get my groove back and fall in love with teaching again. This year I continued that practice. I planted seeds of positive calls in the fall and winter and by spring most of those seeds had blossomed into the fruit of mutually respectful relationships. 

I also implemented two new strategies this year which have contributed greatly to those healthy relationships. The first strategy was instituting a password the kids had to to tell me before they could enter the classroom.  I began with a password to help me learn their names. I stood in the hall outside my door and asked each student ¿Cómo se llama? and they had to say Me llamo and their name before they could come inside. Using this strategy I learned every name in one week. That is the fastest I've ever learned all the names of my students plus I learned what they liked to be called and how to pronounce it correctly. Then I changed the question to ¿Qué es tu appellido? (What is your last name?) Asking this as my password allowed me to quickly learn the correct pronunciation for the last names as well.

Every few weeks I change up the password. But what I noticed was that seeing and speaking to each student in a way that required us to interact and to look each other in the eye was a great way to develop relationship with that student. Interestingly, I did not do this with my Advisory class and I never felt that I developed the relationships with those kids that I did with my Spanish classes. Next year I plan to do a similar activity with each Advisory student and see what difference that makes.

The second strategy I implemented was a way to make lemonade out of lemons. I have been sick more this year than any other year since I've been a teacher. I decided to create maestros invitados (invited teachers) using students to run the first ten minutes of class. I invited and trained students from each class to run the class through our opening routines and first few slides of our daily slideshow. 

Each day's opening task is a daily question the kids have to copy down and answer. I then call 3 or 4 students to answer the question, paying them a paper peso when they answer.  I read through the plans for the day and the daily objective. Next they study their flashcards for two minutes and write the number they know on their monthly calendars. Then I tell them the weather and temperatures in Fahrenheit and Celsius to practice numbers, which they also write on their calendars. 

These routines are not complicated but are hard to explain to a non Spanish speaking substitute. Now I leave the names of my maestros invitados as part of my sub lesson plans and they run the whole class through those routines. The maestros invitados are allowed to pick someone else in the class to help them and that has worked amazingly well.

I started doing this in April after I caught pink eye the first time. When I caught it again three weeks later I had the maestros invitados trained and they were able to help the substitutes. It worked well when I had to leave early for track meets and a non Spanish speaking colleague covered for me. And when I got food poisoning last week and was out unexpectedly for two days I knew that the kids would know what to do.

Interestingly, one of my best maestros invitados is a boy I wrote a referral on earlier in the year because of poor behavior for a substitute. But giving him a job and making him the ally of the substitute completely changed his behavior! No more bad sub reports. Now that is a win win!

The Northern Lights

"We are supposed to be able to see the Northern Lights tonight between 1-3am," my husband informs me before bed. "Do you want to set your alarm?"

"I don't need to set an alarm, I'll just tell myself I want to wake up at 1:00am and I'll wake up," I tell him.

He seems confounded by this reply and I ask, "Can't you tell yourself when you want to wake up and then do it?" 

"No," he replies. I am slightly surprised. I thought everyone could do this but I guess not.

I jolt awake in the middle of the night and look at the clock and it says 1:11am. Since the clock is about 10 minutes fast, it was almost 1:00am exactly. I lay there trying to decide if it is really worth leaving the cozy warmth of my bed to go outside. I look out the window and I do not see colors but the sky is oddly bright and it shouldn't be. There was a new moon a few nights ago and the sky should be brilliant with stars against a moonless dark backdrop. Instead it is full moon bright so I pull my bathrobe on and pad downstairs, taking my phone from the charger as I go outside. 

Everything looks black and white but there are some odd bright streaks across the sky and I decide to take some photos. I remember hearing that you can sometimes photograph the Northern Lights even when you can not see them with your eyes. I make sure the flash is off, point my camera at the sky and slowly the camera takes a picture.

And I can see the lights! Purples, pinks and greens dance across my screen. I gaze in wonder at the sky. I still only see in black and white but now I realize that there is a very faint pink as well. It is like seeing something from the corner of your eye and second guessing yourself if you really saw what you think you did. In my black and white vision I watch the lights streak across the sky, fading and reappearing and swirling.

I run upstairs and try to get John to come see the lights but he is asleep and when I finally wake him up he has no interest in getting up. Later he regrets that decision when he sees all the pictures that people post about the Northern Lights. 

It is cold outside but I am so captivated that I throw back the lid of the hot tub and sit in the hot tub with my camera, continuing to take pictures for almost an hour. This is one of the coolest experiences of my life. There is a surprising amount of people driving around and I assume they are searching for a good place to see the lights. 

Just above the huge madrona tree in our yard is the Big Dipper and I get a good picture of the lights swirling in front of the constellation. It is so bright that only the brightest constellations and stars can be seen.

As I sit in the hot tub gazing up at the sky I realize that this must be what heaven is like. There is a verse that says, "We see through a glass darkly but then face to face." I look at the sky with my eyes and I can see brightness but everything is black and white with just the faintest tinge of pink. When I look through the camera I can see the vivid colors. Surely that is what heaven must be like, like going from black and white to color. The color is there but we are not equipped to see it unless we see in a different way.

I think of the verse, "The heavens declare the glory of God," and tonight the heavens are shouting and singing in a way I've never experienced. Around the world people are gasping in wonder as they see the colorful brilliance of the heavens above. 

Eventually I pull myself out of the hot tub and go back to bed. I have seen the Northern Lights and it was a mystical and amazing experience that I will never forget.

Rotary Park in Anacortes

It is a cloudy November morning when I drop John off at Island Hospital for a colonoscopy. With about 2 hours to wait until I can retrieve him, I amble down to the Island Bistro for some grits and eggs and then decide to take a walk. Anacortes has so many great places to choose from but I find myself steering towards the marina. A street closure and detour has me parking in front of an apartment building near Rotary Park where I pull on my day pack and make my way up to the park entrance.

I decide to hike up to Cap Sante and the trail winds upwards through the woods, passing disc golf baskets along the way. The leaves swish as my shoes shuffle through them and I breathe the fragance of the fall leaves.

Eventually I reach the rocky outcrop of Cap Sante. As I climb I am struck by how it looks like a six plus level ziggurat. I have never seen Cap Sante from this angle. It looks quite different when you drive up to the top which is how I have always done it in the past.

I spy a doe who gives me a glance before continuing her breakfast.

I scramble out onto the rocks and realize there are actually two does. I can see the Salish Sea in the distance.

It is a short distance more to the Cap Sante parking lot and I check out the information boards there.

I gaze at the views, enjoying the sight of the big ships pulling in to the oil refineries at March Point, and the blaze of yellow fall foliage in distance.

I make my way back down the trail and then back to the hospital where I only have to wait about five minutes before John is ready for pick up. He already knows that his colonoscopy showed no problems and is surprisingly alert due to a new kind of anesthesia that they used. The rain spatters the windshield while we drive home and I am happy for good medical news and that I had the chance to explore a new-to-me trail. 

Mountain Loop Highway

For the past month I have had my house and my time to myself since hubby has been off hunting. I can't lie. I have really enjoyed having the time to myself to do what I want when I want. With John set to return shortly, I decided it was time to mark one more thing off my list and go explore Mountain Loop Highway before it closed for the winter.

The full moon was still shining over Deception Pass as I left the island at 7am.

A full moon glistens in the early morning sky

I listened to podcasts while I aimed my car south on I-5 until I took the Hwy 530 exit towards Arlington. I traveled along the highway until I hit the town of Darrington and stopped at a gas station minimart to use the restroom and buy some snacks. Across the street a large mountain dusted with snow loomed and I asked the clerk if she knew the name of it. 

"White Horse," she replied. She proceeded to tell me the local story of how it got the name. There was a man who owned a white horse that escaped and eventually the owner was told that it was up on that mountain. A sudden snowstorm came up and when the mountain was covered in snow it looked like the face of the white horse. She wasn't sure if there was enough snow yet to make out the horse face but assured me that when conditions are right, you can see it. I thanked her for the information and continued on my way.

White Horse Mountain

I pulled into my first planned stop, Sauk River Trail. It was on my checklist but when I entered the lot I realized I have actually hiked this trail before 10 years ago with my dog at the time, Sadie. We'd ambled along Sauk River, enjoying the large maple leaves underfoot and chatting with a local mushroom hunter. It is a lovely hike, but I was craving new adventures so I returned to Mountain Loop Hwy and continued east. I pulled off the road at the confluence of White Chuck River and Sauk River and checked out the parking lot of the campground there before continuing up to the White Chuck River Overlook, where I again pulled in to check out the historical marker board. I am a history lover and those historical placards just beg me for a road break.

Historical Marker at White Chuck Overlook

Logging was an important way of life in this area for many years and a very unique type of movable logging camp was used to house the people that worked in the area. 

Probably Mount Pugh

Shortly after the road sign the highway turned into a dirt road. I knew that some of the road was unpaved but assumed it would be a well kept gravel road. I could not have been more wrong. In fact, the road was in such poor condition that I second guessed myself for awhile. I slowed down to avoid the deep potholes, seeing the occasional truck parked off the side with what I assumed were probably deer hunters while large yellow leaves gently swirled down from the trees lining the road. I saw a sign informing me that Barlow Pass was 14 miles ahead and realized I was indeed on the correct road.

leaves and potholes litter the road

I desperately needed to use the restroom again and stopped at yet another historical placard next to a rustic closed campground. It was a campground named after the Bedal family. I walked around the closed gate to the pit toilet, praying it was unlocked. It was, and it was also fortunate I had some toilet paper stowed in my backpack since there was none in there. 

Bedal family history and heritage

I explored the campground after using the pit toilet and it is a lovely place where the North and South Forks of the Sauk River converge. I think I will have to come back next summer and camp here.

A quaint covered eating area at one of the campsites

After Bedal Campground the road continues next to the South Fork Sauk River with lots of rough campsites next to the river. I saw only two people camped along that section. 

It was a lovely cold 28 degree morning with the vegetation covered in frost. The road is a beautiful drive and I stopped again to take some pictures near an unknown lake, enjoying the ability to stop  whenever I wanted. I had debated inviting friends to come with me today but decided instead to recharge my introvert batteries by going alone.

Barlow Pass ahead

Continuing on to Barlow Pass, I realized that Barlow Pass is the parking place and trailhead for Monte Cristo, an eight mile hike I did a few years ago to an old mining ghost town. There were lots of people parked there doing that hike, rather appropriately doing a ghost town hike this close to Halloween.

Shortly after Barlow Pass I saw the trailhead I was looking for, The Big Four Ice Caves hike. I pulled into the large parking lot, hung my northwest forest pass off my rearview mirror, shouldered my day pack and headed down the trail. A large group of of people led by a forest ranger passed me on their way out. They were probably heading back to the tour bus parked in the lot. 

The Big Four Mountain

I crossed a beautiful bridge that had a construction date of August 2022. The lumber part still smelled like fresh cut wood. The trail was in pretty good shape with several wooden walkway areas that I negotiated carefully due to the slippery frost.

slippery wooden walkways

This is a pretty easy mile hike up to the ice caves. Large signs warn of the dangers of entering those caves and multiple people have been killed here over the years who ignored those warnings. I enjoyed the caves from a distance and a friendly couple took some pictures for me.

The ice caves look like a skull head or a partial ghost face

I started back down the trail, enjoying the fancy frost finery that the bushes and trees wore.

fancy frost

orange fungi

New Bridge 

I took the trail towards the picnic area across a board walk through the marshes. The blue skies and views of the surrounding mountains were stunning. At one time, an inn called the Big 4 Inn stood in the area until it burned down in 1949. 

The fireplace is all that remains of the Big Four Inn

Historical markers describe the history of the area and I learned the history of the name The Big Four. I thought it was from the four peaks of the mountain but it comes from a geographical feature that looks like an enormous four. An old picture on one of the placards clearly shows it almost a hundred years ago.

Can you see the 4 in the picture?

After enjoying the history tour I continued down the highway towards Granite Falls. I stopped at Robe Canyon where I did another 2 mile hike and then headed home. It was a beautiful day of exploration and solitude.

 

Heather Maple Pass

 John took off for eastern Washington to go deer hunting and I decided to take advantage of my solo status to organize a camping trip with work colleagues. I was on the hunt for a good fall colors hike when Heather Maple Pass reopened. I made camping reservations at Howard Steele Park in Rockport and after school ended on Friday I drove up to the park and set up my tent and started a camp fire. The first of the season!

It was dark when the other four people arrived and set up their tents. Ana and Mikki had a HUGE tent and we laughed and giggled as we all pitched in to get it set up.

The next morning my plan was to get up and get out of camp by 5:45am, but between brewing coffee, eating breakfast and trekking to the bathrooms but we did not get out of camp until close to 7am. It was a 75 minute drive up to the Rainy Pass Trailhead where we parked on the highway because all the parking spots in the lot were taken.

Mikki, Ana, me

We started up the trail with lots of other people and that was the theme of the day. This is a very popular hike and with good reason. The views are absolutely amazing.

golden larches in the distance

Lake Ann

more golden fall larches

This is a high elevation hike and it was surprisingly cold. Flakes of snow floated down intermittently the whole hike. As we climbed higher and higher I had to stop and catch my breath frequently. Shanna stayed and hiked with me while the rest of the group forged ahead. 

Lake Lewis

Frisco Mountain

Getting closer to the top

Looking down Maple Creek Valley

This hike was amazing. Every corner we turned brought new views. Eventually we all made it to the top where we took a group photo.

Me, Mikki, Shanna, Dwight

From there we began the descent. This hike is 2 miles up and then 2 miles down. It is a tough one, especially with the high elevation, but definitely worth it.

Looking down at Rainy Lake

Looking back up at where we came from

These views!

Rainy Lake ahead

Lovely larches

When we reached the bottom Dwight and Shanna headed east while Mikki, Ana and I returned west. We stopped at the Diablo Lake overlook so I could take a quick picture of the burned area from the Sourdough Fire I worked at this summer.

Diablo Lake

Back at the campsite we packed up our tents and headed home.