Favorite Places: San Juan Island

Dear Friend,

There is a reason why Islanders refer to a trip to the mainland as “going to America”. The San Juans seem to be on a completely different slice of reality than the rest of the world. When you step off the ferry, you are immediately at ease. There is something about the salty air and the smell of the ice cream shop that can calm the most cluttered mind. The town of Friday Harbor is absolutely charming. From over-priced boutiques, to yummy coffee shops, there is something for everyone. Walk along the wooden docks and pass the fish market and you’ll be sure to see Pop-Eye, the half blind resident seal. Saturday morning at 10 is the farmers market, where you can find literally the best pizza you have ever tasted, fresh fruits, and that nasty smelling oyster booth that somehow manages to always show up. The local movie theater is charming. Not too long ago, if eight or more people didn't show up for a movie they would cancel it, since the price of the movie would be more than the price of the ticket sales. If you drive out Roche Harbor road you’ll pass Mona, the Island camel and her little white alpaca friend. Mona is the #1 sassiest dromedary and she loves attention, so be sure to stop and say hello. Continue straight and you’ll come to Roche Harbor. Roche Harbor is a nice, quiet harbor during the winter months, but once summer hits and the tourists come, it is insanity. The Lime Kiln Café is filled with all manner of yachting folk. If you wake up early enough you can snag a delicious doughnut before they sell out. Fourth of July brings herds of drunk, bald men and too tan women. Every 4th, the dock hands jump off into the oily water after their nightly “colors” ceremony.

If you take a right on your way down Roche Harbor Road, and then another right at the “Lonesome Cove Resort” sign, you’ll come to Kylie’s grandma’s property. She owns three houses: the “Big House”, the “Cabin”, and the “Little Cabin”, but everyone refers to the whole place as the cabin. The cabin is waterfront property, and many nights have been spent sleeping outside in cots, staring at the stars. Somehow, no matter what is going on in your life, the cabin makes everything feel okay. There are no fears at the cabin, aside from the ominous seal noises and the occasional trespassing deer. When you walk in the doors of one of the cabins, you are greeted with the smell of cedar and wood and cinnamon and something that just smells like home. Kylie’s grandpa built the cabin from the ground up, and this love and care permeates throughout. The cabin is a mindset. It represents all of the dedication that went into its construction. It is a gathering place for friends, new and old. It is grandpa’s workshop, and grandma’s measuring cups, and the old green bunk beds, and the lamp that never works, and the little yellow wooden fisherman, and macaroni. The cabin is long walks on the beach and breakfasts of raspberries and toast in the gazebo and late nights spent laughing with friends. The cabin is every Fourth of July eating messy veggie burgers and laughing as the juxtaposition between the Aberle’s fun little sparklers and the neighbors nearly blowing up their house with massive fireworks. The cabin is family. Not immediate family, but everyone who has ever visited has been changed by the cabin is inducted into the island clan.

"Those who have lived it know how beautiful the experience is. It holds a place in one's heart, my dear cabin-goer. The people, the place; treasure it." -Jane Huestis

Yours truly,
Kylie and Catherine