If God isn’t a Volunteer fan, why are sunsets Tennessee Orange?

“Next to the Brown Lantern, Rosario has the best food in the Islands,” offered Jeff, our friend from No Drama who cruised these grounds a few years ago. “Be sure to catch the organ concert at Rosario,” added his lovely wife Ann.  Frankly, given the circumstances, we found their recommendations a tad mean-spirited, although we allow for the possibility they weren’t aware that the resort’s new owners are deep in renovations so nothing is open.  No restaurant, no organ.  Grrrr.

Rich dude Robert Moran completed his palatial home in 1909, and filled it with stained glass, the huge pipe organ, and a fabulous collection of historical photographs, among other must-see things.  “The Red Lady”—yet another of the area’s ghosts—flits around the mansion, at least according to silly people who believe in such things.  We missed all of it.  Double grrrr.

But the grounds are pretty, so at least there’s that.

Here’s a white pine figurehead that once adorned the 1874 clipper ship America.  “It had many times in many ports been remarked upon as being one of the most artistic figureheads that ever graced the bow of a ship,” according to the plaque.  Given all those qualifiers that’d be a tough claim to prove or disprove, but it is pretty cool, and remarkably well-preserved.

At least the marina is cute enough.  Pleasantly empty, likely because everything else is closed.

Remember the Maeda Escarpment from Mel Gibson’s docu-drama Hacksaw Ridge, where the Army’s 77th Infantry climbed up the cliff with ropes and then were blown apart by the Japanese and then Seventh-Day Adventist superhero Desmond Doss lowered the wounded survivors to safety?  Straight vertical.  The path from Rosario to Cascade Lake is just as steep but much longer.  The trim one of us who hikes and runs wanted to do the circumference trail, however, so she lured the fat one of us off his recliner with the promise of Lopez Island ice cream at the snack stand up by the lake.   We left Sammy on the boat, tending to his carrot patch.

Once we got to the top without needing a medic, the miles around the lake were awesome.

Lopez Island ice cream is to the San Juans as Kawartha ice cream is to Ontario’s lake region.  Delicious, although the people who drove to Cascade Lake in their comfy cars probably enjoyed it even more.

Anyway, despite our lack of rappelling gear we somehow made it safely back down to Rosario, where Sammy had finished his gardening and was napping in his blanket pile.

Under brilliant skies and with one heart atwitter over the upcoming rematch with Florida State in the CWS, on Wednesday we headed off for Lopez Island.  Lopez Island surprisingly takes its name from Spanish explorer Gonzalo López de Haro and not former Fly Girl J.Lo, even though she’s undoubtedly much more famous.  Hopefully she and Ben Affleck can work things out.

For us, the first most important thing about Lopez Island was the terrifying entrance to Fisherman Bay.  Narrow shallow channel.  Concealed rocks.  Many stories of boats aground or dashed to pieces.  We were so worried that we didn’t take a single photo of the trip or the approach.  But we did get the drone up shortly after arriving.

The Vols won, punching their ticket to the championship series and sparing us a night of despair and ensuring that the sun indeed came up the next morning.

The walk into town took us past a bank of Pantone 151C colored flowers.  An omen, perhaps?

Lopez Villege is the main—meaning only—town on the island.  Very small, but with a surprising number of excellent restaurants.

If you don’t want to take the main road, there’s a more peaceful option.

Lopez Village has some pretty cool stuff.  Like an awesome farmer’s market, where we picked up very important items like mushrooms, pickles, strawberries, soap, and a Lopez Island Library hat to support the fundraiser.  We particularly appreciated the rule that vendors only can vend things grown or made on the island.

Now this is way cool.  The one of us who has seen every episode of Blown Away chatted up the glass guys in the hot shop.  Dana bought a glass starfish that we previously weren’t aware we needed.

No offense to Jeff, but we went to the Brown Lantern.  The Brown Lantern isn’t even close to the best place we’ve eaten up here.  Setsunai in Lopez Village, however, is right up near the top.  The only thing bad about dinner at that joint was the gluttonous mile waddle back home.

Lopez Island also is the home of—wait for it, wait for it—Lopez Island Ice Cream!

Know who else likes Lopez Island ice cream?

Up here daylight sticks around until after our bedtime, but we sometimes catch the fading glow just as it reaches the color of the daisies on The Hill in front of Ayers Hall.

Deep in the island interior, past Hummel Lake, freshly cut fields, and scenic farms, Barn Owl Bakery cranks out delicious fresh bread using only Lopez Island ingredients.  They don’t sell retail until the new batch leaves the ovens at precisely 3:30.  By 3:30, there was a line, but we still scored the loaf that we polished off with ease the following morning.

On our scooter ride out to Fisherman Bay Preserve we noticed that many islanders take pride in their mailboxes.  Here’s a little sample of the artistry.

Saturday was cruise-e-bikes-around-the-island day.  After the market, we found our way out to Shark Reef Sanctuary.

Waaaay out there on that San Juan Island point in the distance is Cattle Point Lighthouse, which we last saw one post ago when Dana was in her biker chick phase.

Center Church is impressive, not only because it’s the oldest one on the island, but also because—if the sign is any evidence—the good folks in St. Francis Parish hold no grudge over the whole Reformation thing.

Here’s something new.  A dog running a farm stand.

This morning, the tide table pressured us to leave relatively early so as to avoid getting stuck or sinking.  On our way out we passed by something else we’ve not seen before: a boat worth less than its fenders.

The tannish land off to the right here is Speiden Island.

In the seventies, the owner populated it with big game animals and birds and built a hunting lodge where he and his guests could stay before killing them.  The operation ended quickly, however, in part because bullets flew across the narrow channel to San Juan Island, which was populated by people.  Whatever animals weren’t killed supposedly have reproduced and flourished, although we didn’t see any.

For at least the second time—River Dunes being the other—we docked directly facing a chapel of some sort.

The chapel may become obsolete as soon as tomorrow, however, because if the Vols lose the College World Series championship to Texas A&M, it effectively will prove there is no God.

Here’s the trip from Rosario to Roche Harbor, where we’ll stay for a few days.