Fan out to Fargher Lake & AmboySubscriber Exclusive

We thought, “If the fried cheese is this good, imagine what the barbecued brisket sandwich must be like.”

Well, it was even better than the cheese, sweet and smoky and tangy with the signature “FL” branded into the top of the bun, served with a side of red cabbage slaw. It’s the kind of barbecue that you daydream about long after you’ve wiped the last smear of sauce from your satisfied face.

After our impromptu meal, we crossed the road to the Fargher Lake Grocery. My dad and I both love country markets because they offer unusual retail juxtapositions, like tube socks next to goat castrators. This store is large for its ilk and full of interesting and useful items, including plush blankets, fishing tackle and a hot deli case with pizza pockets. We held off on the pizza pockets, full as we were with cheese and brisket.

On the way out, I noticed a wooden walkway leading up to a viewpoint over one of the most stunning vistas in the county, looking north along Northeast 156th Avenue across what used to be the soggy bottom of Fargher Lake. Dad said that his father remembered the actual Fargher Lake, before it was drained in 1921 to create fertile farmland. The area was originally called Hard Hack  Swamp before it was settled in 1860 by brothers Horatio and Fred Farghuar. Now it’s home to a 130-acre blueberry farm.

I was determined to see water, however, and I knew there were two Fargher Ponds that the locals use for fishing. We never found the ponds but we did find the lovely Warren Seely Reservoir along Hooper Wollam Road, a blue pearl against verdant banks, full of largemouth bass swimming under lily pads. Rock Creek flows into it on the east side and out of it on the west end, helping to irrigate all those blueberries.

Next, we continued east to Amboy on Fargher Lake Highway (state Highway 503), where dappled sunshine danced across the road, filtered through tall trees. We rolled the windows down and let the sharp pine air whoosh inside. Wooded areas opened up to farmland peppered with horses and cows.

As we drove into town past the Gothic revival North Clark Historical Museum (aka Amboy United Brethren Church), we noticed signs for an open-air market at Territorial Days Park, which takes place every Friday and Saturday from 10 a.m. to 6 p.m. There weren’t too many vendors on account of the heat, but the intrepid half-dozen who were there fanned their faces and chatted like old friends.

I spent a long time at Heather’s Twisted Designs, coveting the abalone, moss agate and moonstone necklaces wreathed in intricately twisted silver. I stopped at Lady Recycled Designs to see the upcycled glass and ceramic candleholders. While Dad examined the park’s display of massive, century-old logging equipment, I bought bagfuls of fresh peas, broccoli, chamomile and parsley from a cheerful woman in overalls and a straw hat whose farm, Heidi’s Fancy Goods, is just outside of town.

Since the 1960s, Amboy Territorial Park has served as the location for the Amboy Territorial Days festival on the second weekend in July, featuring antique farm equipment, local vendors and other pastoral delights. If you missed the parade and lawn mower races on July 10, never fear; come out for hot rods and motorcycles at the Territorial Park Cruise-In from 11 a.m. to dusk Aug. 21.

We picked up some cold water at Amboy Market and drove out along Northeast 399th Street to the intersection with Northeast 221st Avenue, where I hoped to sample the espresso and Umpqua ice cream at RJ’s Coffee Shop, but this drive-thru had already closed for the day. (Undaunted, I returned to RJ’s later in the summer for a whopping scoop of triple-chocolate ice cream on a waffle cone, served with extra napkins and a big smile.)

Dad mentioned that he’d enjoyed a steak dinner a few years ago at Nick’s Bar and Grill, just across the road, so we decided to check it out.

Nick’s is a true country establishment, with parking for motorcycles, an antler for a door handle and lots of wood surfaces. There’s a bar for the 21-and-older crowd or booths for family dining. The friendly hostess seated us on the back deck overlooking shady Cedar Creek, where the day’s high of 93 degrees didn’t seem too bad. We ordered a basket of thick-cut, beer-battered onion rings with ranch dipping sauce and eavesdropped on the salty conversation of 20-somethings who’d popped outside for a smoke. In the bathroom, I noted the chalkboard wall depicting Gov. Jay Inslee’s untimely demise next to a big heart proclaiming “Jesus Is King!” (If you’re inclined to visit, check current hours. Nick’s temporarily closed July 22 because it was short-handed due to staff illnesses, but reopened last week.)

Still licking the ranch dressing from our fingers, we paid the bill and drove home through the wild woods to the less-wild suburbs. That hot, beautiful day is gone, but I still cherish the memory of a perfect father-daughter outing.