“Twisp” is an Indian word

Salmon used to come up the Twisp river in huge numbers to spawn and die. This attracted bazillions of wasps who fed on the rotting carcases. “Twisp” means “wasp”.

I had a terrific time in Twisp, by the way. I very much enjoyed the drive over there and back, which took me through some of the most beautiful country in all of Washington State. It’s about four hours there and four hours back. A lovely drive both for saying the Rosary and for blasting the Eagles on the retro radio station.

I stayed at a lovely place called the Methow Valley Inn, which you should really check out if you are ever in the area. It was like waking up in the House of Tom Bombadil. Terry and Melissa, the proprietors, have created a wonderfully homey place out of what used to be a brothel, so the place has character. They very generously gave me a couple of copies of a couple of CDs their daughter, Leah Larson, had made. Turns out Leah is a classically trained professional bluegrass musician (who is now busy raising her wonderful fambly there in Twisp. (As it happens, Leah knows a friend of mine named Patrice O’Neill who is very involved in the local folk music scene in Western Washington and helps to organized Wintergrass.)

Anyhow, I hit it off with these folks right away, so the talks were a breeze. It was a small group at St. Genevieve parish and it seemed like it was over as soon as it started. I hit the road a little before 5:00 on Saturday and got home about 9:00 having driven through the Misty Mountains (aka the Cascade Range) over the North Cascade Highway. Glorious! So, to quote Samwise, “Well, I’m back.”