Women Friends

     I spent the three days of my birthday weekend in Gasquet, at the northern California/southern Oregon coast, with four women friends: Cheryl, Janet, Sandy, and Peter. These are women I hike with weekly. We have backpacked down the Wild and Scenic Rogue together, on the Upper Rogue, and in the Red Buttes Wilderness. Our bonds are tight.

L-R: Cheryl, Peter, Sandy, me, Janet

The weather was beautiful. We walked on the beach in appropriately foggy weather

hiked through the mystical light of the redwoods

and swam in some of the most beautiful swimming holes on the Smith River, which, in my opinion, rival any swimming holes in the Pacific Northwest.

    We stayed at Peter's beautiful, 100-year-old house above the Smith River, watching out the window at the water rippling by, ducklings playing tag in the riffle, a blue heron flying downriver, hummingbirds darting in and out, and often just the oak leaves twirling in the breeze. We ate magnificently. Sandy, who, to our good fortune, is a professional cook, made mole one night and curry the next. Everyone brought something to share—garden vegetables, freshly picked blueberries, home-made chocolates and chocolate cookies. I brought four kinds of tartlets: chocolate brownie, strawberry fool, orange custard, and nectarine-plum. The morning of my birthday everyone worked in the kitchen to make a magnificent breakfast. 

    They made me the center of attention that day, letting me choose the day's activity (a long hike ending in a swimming hole), taking me out to dinner at a seafood restaurant in Brookings, and then returning to the house for the birthday cake (New York cheesecake) Sandy had made.

They gave me a flood of presents—a quart of blueberries, a delicate necklace, pomegranate syrup, lavender cheese from Rogue Creamery, and many other gifts, all of which were supplemental to the love they had showered on me all weekend and, indeed, on each other as well. They're that kind of women.

One of my birthday gifts