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if the treehouse is rockin' don't bother knockin'





Guess what. We stayed in a treehouse. Yes. Really. For Real.

A Real Live treehouse. And I do mean Live.


A way-ago I received an email from :


The Treehouse Masters out of Fall City, WA.


who announced that their newest latest greatest treehousest had just been built and was ready for action. Joe & I considered the fact and so we agreed to reserve a visit in this newest latest greatest bravest safest of treehousest in the trees treehouse. Cool !! Our first get-away vacation since covid. Way Cool !! You be Tarzan I be Jane in a Swiss Family Robinson type setting. Where did that Cheetah go to now ?

Days past and we got closer to our reservation. We considered cancelling because we were tending a very sick kitten. Suddenly, no longer tending, freed up, besides somewhat traumatized, we forged ahead and decided that yes, a visit to a treehouse may be exactly what we needed. Little did I know at that time that this was the ideal antidote to soothe our broken JuJu hearts.

We got out the maps. The sunny clear day had arrived for us to find and search out this house built inn a tree. We googled the address and drove off to find it.


We found the treehouse. It was a brand new structure built way up innto the trees.

Inn-credible. Our 3 PM. check-inn time was an hour away. We decided to respect our

inn-keeper’s rules and go out inn-stead for a real early dinn-er.

We were a few minutes away from the :


Nisqually Entrance of Mt.Rainier National Park.


There was a restaurant nearby called Wild Berry Restaurant. We parked inn front. I noticed the immaculately swept clean walkway to the door with flower boxes overflowing with welcoming bright colorfull flowers. Red Blue Green Yellow prayerflags festooned the premises inn front and out back amongst picnic tables they connected the big trees like a clothesline. Inn-between times when normal folk eat their meals, we had the restaurant to ourselves. Just how we like it : crowd-free, quiet, not having to wait inn lines, ahh yes.

I am liking this.

Our waiter was a short soft spoken man who took our order. We ordered the long anticipated Nepali food dishes that I had long craved since visiting there years ago.

Samosas !! Momos !! Curry !! Rice !! Lentils !! Special hot sauce for dipping. We inndulged : me a glass of white wine Joe a (Mt.) Rainier beer. We celebrated the fact that we were here. We celebrated the fact that we had just made it thru a tough go. We celebrated.

The meal was scrumptuous. Heavenly.


Out of this world as we sit near a 14,410 ft. high mountain volcano, the 5th highest mountain in the continental US. The mountain was named after Rear Admiral Peter Rainier by Captain George Vancouver on May 8, 1792. The Native Americans called the mountain “Tahoma” or “Takhoma” meaning “the mother of waters.” Out of this world.

The restaurant had a glass enclosed display case. Mountain climbing gear adorned a figure. Plaques certificates medals framed newspaper articles photographs. The man who had just waited our table and served us the most inn-credible meal was the owner of this family run Nepali/Himalayan restaurant. The man who had just waited our table and served us the most inn-inn-credible meal had broken all records for ascending Mt. Everest inn just 10 hrs. 56 minutes and 46 seconds. That ? was our waiter !! Him. One has no idea what people are innside. We walk around innside our current costumes. Temporarily we shift change our appearences for each given moment. Who knows what goes on innside all these beings that we encounter ?? Recast versions of ourselves forever revising adapting adjusting to our current situations. All our history zipped up innside our skins as we walk around inn this world.

We had just been served a meal by a world famous man of courage a warrior a sherpa a champion a conqueror a super hero. Fifteen times scaled Mt. Everest, the highest mountain inn the world. 29,032 ft. high. Thank you, Mr.Lhakpa Gelu.

We traveled back to the treehouse. Not being able to take our eyes from it, we walked towards as if approaching a magical once upon a time remarkable glorious captivating hard to believe what we are seeing never seen anything like this before dream. Perched on the side of a mountain innside a forest of trees, we climbed the freshly cedar-chipped path upwards to the entrance around the back of the structure. We gaze at the under-workings of the house perched up inn the air supported by 8 large 200-300 ft. high trees. The Treehouse Masters have innvented special pins for trees to support structures that innsert partially innto the trunks and roller supports for the structure. The trees are left unharmed and keep living, they are alive and sway rock bend to the winds without the structure moving along with.


We entered the treehouse through an arched cathedral-like archway that surrounded the door. A handrail of tree branch polished smooth for holding onto. Upon opening the door an overwhelming aroma of fresh treehouse smell that was like perfume. Never having the opportunity to ever be enclosed withinn such a fragrance it took me by shocked surprise.

I loved it. Quite the sensual experience.

Once inn-side more surprises for the senses to take-inn. The beauty. The wood. The decor. The design. The choices. All of it so well-thought-out. We walked around agape. Inn wonder. Speechless, I, at a loss for words for what that was like to enter the treehouse space.


The walls were covered inn a polished smooth flat freshly milled tightly grained Doug fir which was near whitish light goldish light light light. The ceilings and floors were covered inn a deep dark gnarly recyled gashed used textured darkish deepish brownish blackish wood. The contrast of using the two contrary opposite type woods was stunning. Each complemented the other. Not too much of one or the other the two polar opposites created a pure harmonious balance.

And here is the magic of how this treehouse was constructed : no nails. All tongue-and-groovy baby. The seams = seamless. The joins = joinless. The construction = flawless.

The craftmanship = out of this human being type world. We spied a few pin sized finish nails on the window trim. The window trim around the cathedral shaped feeling like church windows inn which the taller middle window has side shorter windows on each side the trim the trim each dimension different heavy on top slim on sides well thought out so well thought out. All the decor furnishings added fabric materials inn shades of white.

All To Accent the Wood. It was all about The Wood. Nothing took away from the visuals of The Wood. The table base a giant wood gnarly grrrr burl of a burl grrrr.

It was like being inn-side of a tree.

What an experience to be inn-side.

Now opening the French doors to the deck. A curved wrap around deck that was shaped like a gigantic grande piano lid. Curvy baby. The cuts around the trees curvy too. You see,

the outside of an actual tree is a rounded curve so there you are experiencing being on the outside of a tree when you are outside the treehouse. A small table and two chairs for hanging out. We spent lottsa time there. Lottsa. Lottsa ahhh there.


And that was the thing, the whole innterlude of being inn the space, this space that was made specifically and unequivocally for : two. Two only. No extra seats. Two for everything.

There was a large-knotted jute rug inn the kitchen that massaged your feet when you walked upon it. Hey wow thanks rug !! Let me repeat again : everything was so well-thought out. Even down to the slightest molecule. Nothing overlooked. Nothing half-assed.

Nothing was let’s just make do. No cut corners. Yet nothing was too much. Too excessive or too ornate. It was just right.


The space felt like being innside

a completed work of art.

Inn the evening we turned on the tv screen. Finding we needed passwords for our streaming accounts, we turned the screen off relieved we forgot the codes. Somehow the tech world innside the tree world did not fit inn. Forget about it. I would much rather sit and stare at the treehouse and converse with my partner. My senses alive and reeling with the feelings the textures the sights the smells the all of it taking it all inn. And yes, the sounds.

The lack of, mostly.

The next sunny clear day we traveled inn-to Mt. Rainier National Park. Taking a drive around a loop, we experienced dried up glacial fields, big huge old trees, wildflowers, ginormous trees, a wheely wheely old suspension bridge, and tall tall tallest taller yet still more taller trees. Beautiful. This inn-credible park was established on March 2, 1899, 17 years before the National Park Service was created in 1916. John Muir, famous naturalist and preservationist, and Bailey Willis, a US Geological Survey worker, led the charge to designate Mt. Rainier a national park because of its Unique Beauty. Thank you John Muir & Bailey Willis.

We departed our treehouse feeling very well taken care-of. We departed soothed and saturated by beauty quiet healing trees. Embraced by the forest. We left leaving respectfully, leaving things the way they were when we found them, sweeping the walkway immaculately clean up to the front door, dishes washed, appreciative considerations written inn the guest book, forever memories now inn-side our packed backpacks to take home with us.


The beauty of wrapping yourself around a living being a living tree is that it moves it sways it dances. It is alive. It grows. It bends. The afternoons had brought with it breezes that rocked the very high tips of the tall trees supporting the treehouse. The roller bars under the structure caught the tensions of the movement stopping the treehouse from actual movement. It caught the tensions yes but it released the tensions with a sound.

At first we had no idea what where who what the heck why wherefore that sound came from. Going outside we listened to the source of the sound. A tapping, sometimes the occasional bang !! Or bang bang !! Chitty chitty bang bang. Bang a gong. Get it on. The Big Bang Tree Theory live inn the forest. The tree was talkin’ its rap. It was rockin’ out. At first surprising, we got used to it. We would answer back to the knock knock who’s there trees, “C’mon inn !!” or, “the door’s open” or just picture a native elder underneath us sounding out beats on a drum. Possibly it was Cheetah out there pounding his chest, hoot hooting & jumping up

& down. The breezes came round late afternoon not evenings mornings. It was part of the experience. The whole comfortable sensual savoring experience of all senses wide open. Sight vision feeling touch texture breathing fragrance smell and yes hearing and sound.

Or, yet again, the hush quietude and innerludes of lack of sounds.



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