Fulled Vs. Raw

Day 303: First, a qualifier: these are two different shades of blue, so please factor that in while comparing the fulled version (left) to the raw (right). Fulling is what occurs when a woven item is wet-finished. The fibers, tightly spun for durability, plump up and fill in any small gaps left in the weaving process. Depending on fiber content (in this case, 100% cotton) there may also be varying amounts of shrinkage in the finished cloth. This is where experience with a specific fiber or manufacturer comes in handy for the weaver, in that they can better estimate what the finished dimensions of a piece will be. For example, I have learned that when I am using Valley cotton, a 16" warp width will give me a 12.5" width towel, and I need to weave a 24" length to obtain a long dimension of 21". Even when changing brands of the same fiber, your mileage may vary due to a number of factors. With cotton, the obvious reason would be how tightly the yarn is spun and plied, but plant species and regional growing conditions may also affect how the fiber will full. Although these latter two considerations are not something the weaver usually thinks about, they can account for differences in the way a yarn behaves when washed. How will drought conditions affect cotton grown in Brazil? Will stressed cells full more readily, hungry for moisture, or will the fiber be more harsh? I don't know, but I have a feeling that if I'm still weaving ten years from now, I may need to adjust my formula for the ideal towel.

The Joe Log

Day 29: Whether due to drought-like conditions during the summer or the possibility that it has consumed all available nutrition from its host wood, the Joe Log has so far only produced a dusting of aqua-blue disks. My botany partner brought me this 18" long stick a couple of years ago after posting a photo which elicited the comment from me that I would "give my eyeteeth to see this in real life." The species is Chlorociboria aeruginascens, one of a small handful of turquoise-coloured fungi. I've been cultivating it carefully ever since, keeping it tucked beneath ferns where it was most likely to stay moist year-'round. However, our exceptionally dry summer has taken a toll on fungal communities in general, and I suspect the Joe Log hasn't escaped without feeling some effect. That said, the colony has had a few slow starts before. I wouldn't be surprised if it takes off now that the weather is cooler and the rain has returned.

Burning At Both Ends

Day 6: Finally! Inciweb has not updated their website since September 9, but today when I visited Lillie Dale Road, I found on display a new map and current information regarding the Alder Lake Fire. As of October 16, eleven crew members from Gifford Pinchot National Forest and the Department of Natural Resources are on site. The fire is 45% contained, and now encompasses 360 acres.

We have had some precipitation, but not nearly enough. As the bulletin phrased it, "Despite recent moisture, interior areas and the west and east flanks of the fire continue to burn, exhibiting low rates of spread but high consumption of the available fuels. Smoke will be visible as fuels dry out and continue to burn. Smoke will continue to be visible until significant precipitation is received." In other words, it's still a hot, smoky fire, but it's travelling slowly. Unfortunately, it is still most active in terrain which is inaccessible.

If there's one bit of good news in this report, it's that the new map is rightside-up.

How Low Can It Go?

Day 364: This bridge is a remnant of the old highway which used to pass through the town of Alder prior to the early 1940s. Like most of the towns in this neck of the woods, Alder was little more than a whistle-stop, although it did host the proverbial "one-room schoolhouse" on a little knob of land at the edge of town. Unfortunately for the residents, Tacoma Power saw potential in the nearby Nisqually River and decided to build a hydroelectric dam. The population of Alder relocated, and the little town was drowned as the Nisqually backed up behind the dam to become what is now known as Alder Lake.

In the 25+ years I have lived in the immediate area, I have seen the tips of these bridge timbers only a few times. I have never seen their bases, not until this autumn (for scale, note the family at the left end of the bridge). The lake is lower than it has even been in my memory, evidence of last year's low snow-pack and this summer's dry weather. Tacoma Power must maintain a certain requirement of cubic feet per second flow through the dam, and must also ensure that the water temperature does not exceed that necessary to maintain salmon habitat downstream. Failure to comply carries a hefty fine. The power company is caught between a rock and a hard place. They also depend on recreation dollars from the various campsites they maintain on the shore of the lake.

I never thought I'd hear Washington described as droughty, not here where lichens grow in abundance and moss curtains the forests, but we are already in a bad way which is only destined to become worse unless the rains come at flood-producing rates. Alder Lake? It's almost a desert out there. Can you spot the bridge in this photo?