Suncadia - December 2015

 

Suncadia is a lodge over the mountains about an hour from our house where we've vacationed for the past five years or so. This weekend we've snuck away to snowshoe, admire the views, and read aloud in the evenings with cups of tea all 'round.

The drive over the pass was stunning, with the snow level remarkably low and clouds of mist clinging to the hills and nestling in the valleys.

On the way, we listened to a chapel lecture from this past semester at RBC. The passage was Job's response to God and the manifestation of His majesty. Dr. Reid described the sovereignty of God over all things, and while the believer is called to seek out truth, ultimately there are things too wonderful, too mysterious for our comprehension, and instead of allowing these things to undermine our faith, we must submit our understanding to the omniscient wisdom of our Father. 

The town of Cle Elum is small and quaint, filled with old pickups and locals that know each other.

According to tradition, we stopped at Stella's for lunch--sandwiches, tomato soup, and a couple big cookies to split. A middle-aged gentleman sat in the corner making affectionately snide remarks about the downgrade in service to regular customers (of which he was obviously one), while a man  his age (the inspiration behind the entire show) directed his younger employees. The whole thing was quite entertaining. . . 

Our dog, waiting outside in the cold for the real adventure to begin. 

The magnanimous owner of Stella's gave us bonus caramels, and who wants to eat them normally??

Dog waiting in her kennel. . . again. Come ON guys!!

I love the old buildings of CleElum. They have a history all their own, and every time we visit I seem to notice nooks and crannies I had never seen before.

Finally, much to Lexi's delight, we began the drive out to a more remote area for snowshoeing (i.e. working off the caramels).

Lexi, er, well, she generally used the snowshoe tracks, but when she decided to strike out on her own, the effect was rather like the Grinch's dog towing his towering sled up Mt. Crumpet. 

Sionna, on the other hand, routinely does peculiar things. Such as hopping down a snowdrift that wasn't particularly in our way. 

Of course, she got snow down her pants as a reward. 

Someone had fun tunneling under a drifted picnic table.

Usually the pictures that end up being my favorite are the least planned ones. This is a perfect example. I've always loved cool tree bark, and the gradation across this picture somehow captivates me. . .

We decided all the drifted trees looked like characters from some Dr. Seuss book, and we started describing their personalities and personal life stories. We happened across an entire corridor of depression patients.

Looks like whipped cream, right? :)

Because it was a sunny day, and because the brother was our driver, our drive out to this idyllic spot earlier in the afternoon had been accompanied per usual by country music, including one particular song which has recently become a favorite. Well, in the course of trail conversation, a line was referenced and mother proceeded to mimic the song in absolutely criminal fashion, at which we protested vehemently.

A little later on, a tree began to shower snow, and as mother passed by it absolutely avalanched on her.  Samuel commented that this was probably punishment for her earlier performance. Logically, this sparked banter about whether snow could be considered a viable means for baptism, and if sprinkling or immersion would be the most appropriate method. Dad promptly demonstrated the latter by shoving me into a massive drift. He had the nerve to ask me later if I had deja vu from my similar experience at three months old.

All in all, life with these crazy people is something I wouldn't trade for the world.