A day for just hanging out. Bob walks to the neighborhood grocery store with Roz and Bev while Corinne does a laundry at their house.
In the evening, we go to a dinner cinema to see "A Woman in Berlin". We order pizzas as we buy our tickets and they deliver them to our seats, which have a little foldout armrest containing a large tray for the food. Very unique and fun. The movie is a rather dark subject, but it is worth seeing, being a Lena Wertmuller film.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Day 72- Sunday, 8/30/09 - SETTLED
This morning we have breakfast with Ben, Basilia, Collin, Bev and Roz at their favorite cafe' right around the corner from their house.
The rest of the day is spent doing the Waterfall Trail with Roz and Bev. Multnomah Falls, the final one, is definitely the most visited by other tourists, but not necessarily the one we enjoy the most. However, one of the best things about it is that we are there at that golden time of day when everything takes on an almost mystical color.
On the way home, we stop at McMenamin's for dinner. It is a very well-known complex of buildings which house a spa, a hotel, a bar, and two restaurants. The gardens are beautiful and the food is spectacular, served in Victorian decadent ambience.
The rest of the day is spent doing the Waterfall Trail with Roz and Bev. Multnomah Falls, the final one, is definitely the most visited by other tourists, but not necessarily the one we enjoy the most. However, one of the best things about it is that we are there at that golden time of day when everything takes on an almost mystical color.
On the way home, we stop at McMenamin's for dinner. It is a very well-known complex of buildings which house a spa, a hotel, a bar, and two restaurants. The gardens are beautiful and the food is spectacular, served in Victorian decadent ambience.
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Day 71- Saturday, 8/29/09 - SETTLED
Today is a very exciting day. We go to the Oregon International Air Show at Hillsboro, OR. There are constant surprises as various types of aircraft swoop and make designs in the air with their contrails.
Sometimes the pilots take pleasure in creating suspense. They fly out of range and then suddenly reappear, engines roaring, as if from nowhere. Corinne gets a little spooked by all the noise and drama and grabs on to Bob for security.
When the rainclouds suddenly open up, everyone runs for the Vendors Tent. There are giveaways from dozens of companies, most of which involve free food. That makes Bob very happy. Corinne's favorite is the popsicles.
The last act is the Thunderbirds, which is the US Air Force Precision Flying Team. Their finale is very dramatic. They come in from four different directions and appear to be heading right for a collision. Suddenly they fly just slightly under each other so they just miss. You can hear everyone catch their breath.
On the way home, another RV forces his way in front of us. We can see in his back window. Bob is driving, and exclaims in irritation: "Look, his bed isn't even made". Imagine that, an RV driver that is not only rude, but also sloppy!
Sometimes the pilots take pleasure in creating suspense. They fly out of range and then suddenly reappear, engines roaring, as if from nowhere. Corinne gets a little spooked by all the noise and drama and grabs on to Bob for security.
When the rainclouds suddenly open up, everyone runs for the Vendors Tent. There are giveaways from dozens of companies, most of which involve free food. That makes Bob very happy. Corinne's favorite is the popsicles.
The last act is the Thunderbirds, which is the US Air Force Precision Flying Team. Their finale is very dramatic. They come in from four different directions and appear to be heading right for a collision. Suddenly they fly just slightly under each other so they just miss. You can hear everyone catch their breath.
On the way home, another RV forces his way in front of us. We can see in his back window. Bob is driving, and exclaims in irritation: "Look, his bed isn't even made". Imagine that, an RV driver that is not only rude, but also sloppy!
Friday, August 28, 2009
Day 70- Friday, 8/28/09 - SETTLED
This morning we meet Ethan's girlfriend Heather's Mom, Holly, new stepdad Chris, and brother Derek. An adorable cafe' in downtown Portland is the perfect place to share a nice breakfast. We click immediately and talk easily and freely. There are many laughs all around.
Funny things our GPS Lady says: "Hawt Horn" Avenue instead of "Hawthorne".
"Moe Risson Brother" instead of "Morrison Bridge"
"I-5 Ee" instead of "I-5 East"
"Dove Doctor" instead of "Dove Drive"
".1 miles" instead of ".1 mile"
In the late afternoon we go up to Big Pink, the office building where my nephew Ben works in management for a contracting firm. His office is on the top floor and we get a wonderful 360 degree view of the city of Portland.
Funny things our GPS Lady says: "Hawt Horn" Avenue instead of "Hawthorne".
"Moe Risson Brother" instead of "Morrison Bridge"
"I-5 Ee" instead of "I-5 East"
"Dove Doctor" instead of "Dove Drive"
".1 miles" instead of ".1 mile"
In the late afternoon we go up to Big Pink, the office building where my nephew Ben works in management for a contracting firm. His office is on the top floor and we get a wonderful 360 degree view of the city of Portland.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Day 69- Thursday, 8/27/09 - SETTLED
Roz and Bev take us to Mt. St. Helens. The scenery there is so dramatic. There are trees that were felled and sculpted by the volcano. The landscape was scoured by the lava.
We hike partway to the crater. After viewing the film at the Visitor's Center, we catch our breath as the curtains open to gigantic glass windows showing the volcano itself. Very effective technique.
On the way home, we stop at an EcoCenter where Roz and Bev had stayed a few years ago. The entire dining area is open to the outdoors, and there are bees everywhere.
A touring helicopter lands just outside the dining room and we are fascinated by the closeup view of how the jetset lives.
We hike partway to the crater. After viewing the film at the Visitor's Center, we catch our breath as the curtains open to gigantic glass windows showing the volcano itself. Very effective technique.
On the way home, we stop at an EcoCenter where Roz and Bev had stayed a few years ago. The entire dining area is open to the outdoors, and there are bees everywhere.
A touring helicopter lands just outside the dining room and we are fascinated by the closeup view of how the jetset lives.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Day 68- Wednesday, 8/26/09- SETTLED
Our RV Park on the Columbia River brings to mind the title of an old movie: "Airplanes, Trains and Automobiles". We're definitely in the big city of Portland. It feels so different than being out in the middle of nowhere. We are right across the street from the Portland Yacht Club, so maybe we should add "Boats" to our descriptor.
My sister-in-law Bev makes her famous Mixed Grill with chicken, salmon and steaks, and we enjoy a nice evening with my sister Roz and her son Ben. For the first time, we meet Ben's lovely wife Basilia and her son Collin. I haven't seen Ben since 1989, so this is a big treat.
My sister-in-law Bev makes her famous Mixed Grill with chicken, salmon and steaks, and we enjoy a nice evening with my sister Roz and her son Ben. For the first time, we meet Ben's lovely wife Basilia and her son Collin. I haven't seen Ben since 1989, so this is a big treat.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Day 67-Tuesday, 8/25/09, ON THE ROAD
We are at the 45th Parallel, halfway between the Equator and the North Pole. Pretty cool concept.
What is with Oregon and devils? Seven Devils Road, Drunken Devils Road, Devils Lake, Devil's Punchbowl, Devil's Creek.
ROADKILL: Plastic milk cartons.
Our GPS fuse gets lost, who knows where or why. The GPS dies when the battery finally runs out of juice because we can't plug it in. We are so dependent now on "Our Lady", even if her robotic self reads "Drive" as "Doctor", we feel lost without her and we get lost without her. We're not used to Mapquest directions any more, and they don't reflect construction re-routings.
What is with Oregon and devils? Seven Devils Road, Drunken Devils Road, Devils Lake, Devil's Punchbowl, Devil's Creek.
ROADKILL: Plastic milk cartons.
Our GPS fuse gets lost, who knows where or why. The GPS dies when the battery finally runs out of juice because we can't plug it in. We are so dependent now on "Our Lady", even if her robotic self reads "Drive" as "Doctor", we feel lost without her and we get lost without her. We're not used to Mapquest directions any more, and they don't reflect construction re-routings.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Day 66-Monday, 8/24/09, SETTLED
Free day for Bob. He stays "home" and cleans house, builds a fire, eats leftover pizza, drinks wine and listens to zydeco music on our CD player.
Corinne shows her art work and hats to guest Carol and manager Karen at Chinook Bend Campground. Carol wants a hat called "Pinky" for her granddaughter's birthday.
Corinne goes to Yaquina Head but the tide is too high to see anything in the tidepools. Instead I go around to a different road and find Quarry Cove, which we had not seen the first time we were there together. There are harbor seals on the rocks only 30 feet from the viewing station.
For the first time on the West Coast, I see surfers in their wetsuits taking lessons in the Cove.
As I drive back "home" to the campground, I stop at Depoe Bay to join a large crowd watching whales in the distance. They are definitely visible, but very hard to photograph. By the time you see one and get it in the viewfinder, they're back underwater.
At Boiler Bay, the waters are roiling among the rocks sticking out of the ocean. One can see how undertows are created.
Our suntans are starting to fade from wearing long pants and longsleeved shirts. The weather has been in the upper 60's for our time on the coast.
Corinne shows her art work and hats to guest Carol and manager Karen at Chinook Bend Campground. Carol wants a hat called "Pinky" for her granddaughter's birthday.
Corinne goes to Yaquina Head but the tide is too high to see anything in the tidepools. Instead I go around to a different road and find Quarry Cove, which we had not seen the first time we were there together. There are harbor seals on the rocks only 30 feet from the viewing station.
For the first time on the West Coast, I see surfers in their wetsuits taking lessons in the Cove.
As I drive back "home" to the campground, I stop at Depoe Bay to join a large crowd watching whales in the distance. They are definitely visible, but very hard to photograph. By the time you see one and get it in the viewfinder, they're back underwater.
At Boiler Bay, the waters are roiling among the rocks sticking out of the ocean. One can see how undertows are created.
Our suntans are starting to fade from wearing long pants and longsleeved shirts. The weather has been in the upper 60's for our time on the coast.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Day 65, Sunday, 8/23/09, SETTLED
At our campground this morning, we get a free pancake breakfast. We are camped next to the Siletz River and it is a beautiful morning.
If the people at a campground, either the owners, the hosts, or the other guests, are friendly and helpful, the stay is so much more enjoyable. Here we have it all.
At Munson Creek Falls, we meet another couple who joins us for lunch at our picnic table. They are there to have a family reunion. He is in his 80's and pretty spry. Good role models.
Later in the day we visit the Tillamook Cheese Factory. Bob figures out how to go through the samples line multiple times, while I am reading the signs explaining the cheese-making process. Most of the workers have gone home, but there are a few people still wrapping gigantic 30 lb. cheese hunks in plastic wrap and others cleaning the machinery. All the stainless steel machinery looks so spotless.
Hungering for movies, we find a theater and see Inglourious Basterds with Brad Pitt. Although the Holocaust is a difficult subject, this character study looks at it from a different perspective.
If the people at a campground, either the owners, the hosts, or the other guests, are friendly and helpful, the stay is so much more enjoyable. Here we have it all.
At Munson Creek Falls, we meet another couple who joins us for lunch at our picnic table. They are there to have a family reunion. He is in his 80's and pretty spry. Good role models.
Later in the day we visit the Tillamook Cheese Factory. Bob figures out how to go through the samples line multiple times, while I am reading the signs explaining the cheese-making process. Most of the workers have gone home, but there are a few people still wrapping gigantic 30 lb. cheese hunks in plastic wrap and others cleaning the machinery. All the stainless steel machinery looks so spotless.
Hungering for movies, we find a theater and see Inglourious Basterds with Brad Pitt. Although the Holocaust is a difficult subject, this character study looks at it from a different perspective.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Day 64 - Saturday, 8/22/09 - ON THE ROAD
We are back again at the Umpquah River Lighthouse. It was built in 1894 and was also a Coast Guard Station in its beginning years. One of the other things it is known for is its brilliant red lens.
It flashes red, then white, then off in a prescribed sequence. Each lighthouse has a unique signature.
The sea is the roughest it has been in three weeks, according to our tour guide. There are whitecap waves, and therefore no small craft are out.
This time we find a highway construction cone as roadkill.
Our drive along Tankenitch Lake brings surprises - water lilies among the duckweed. They are blooming beautifully.
At Heceta Head Lighthouse we find out that the sea lions had moved from Sea Lion Cave to 400 yards north. We can now see them. There are millions of cormorants on the sea rocks.
Heceta Head is the most photographed lighthouse in the world. Its setting and its construction are unique.
In Yachats we eat supper at Luna Sea Restaurant and take home cans of their freshly made tuna.
There are two people in Oregon who built lighthouses onto their homes, but they are not open to the public. There is one that is visible from the highway, called the Pelican Bay Lighthouse. The other is Cleft of the Rocks in the cliffs south of Yachats.
This area is well-known for its many glassblowers and glass shops.
A large gathering of people is on the beach. We later find out it is a 10th high school reunion. The people at the reunion tell us that there will be a wedding there later in the evening. What a concept!
In the distance we see rectangular structures in the water and wonder what they are. Someone at the overlook tells us that they are oyster beds.
It flashes red, then white, then off in a prescribed sequence. Each lighthouse has a unique signature.
The sea is the roughest it has been in three weeks, according to our tour guide. There are whitecap waves, and therefore no small craft are out.
This time we find a highway construction cone as roadkill.
Our drive along Tankenitch Lake brings surprises - water lilies among the duckweed. They are blooming beautifully.
At Heceta Head Lighthouse we find out that the sea lions had moved from Sea Lion Cave to 400 yards north. We can now see them. There are millions of cormorants on the sea rocks.
Heceta Head is the most photographed lighthouse in the world. Its setting and its construction are unique.
In Yachats we eat supper at Luna Sea Restaurant and take home cans of their freshly made tuna.
There are two people in Oregon who built lighthouses onto their homes, but they are not open to the public. There is one that is visible from the highway, called the Pelican Bay Lighthouse. The other is Cleft of the Rocks in the cliffs south of Yachats.
This area is well-known for its many glassblowers and glass shops.
A large gathering of people is on the beach. We later find out it is a 10th high school reunion. The people at the reunion tell us that there will be a wedding there later in the evening. What a concept!
In the distance we see rectangular structures in the water and wonder what they are. Someone at the overlook tells us that they are oyster beds.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Day 63-Friday, 8/21/09, SETTLED
At Simpson Reef we are treated to closeup views of sea lions, harbor seals, and walrus seals. The big guys are hauling out to molt on the rocks. They will be weakened by molting and just lay there for days.
Down on the beach, we explore rock caves at low tide. There are signs to "Beware of the Sneaker Waves". I see a little girl down at the bottom of the stairs without supervision. Sneaker waves can come up without warning and cause dangerous undertows. I'm about to go get the little girl when her mother and older sister show up and are totally unconcerned. Yikes!
We can see another lighthouse on a distant cliff.
Our GPS is funny. She says "double yoo Beaver Hill Rd." instead of West Beaver Hill.
I'm noticing that ponytails on men are very common out here. I like the look.
Unfortunately, there is a squished porcupine in the middle of the road as we are leaving.
Down on the beach, we explore rock caves at low tide. There are signs to "Beware of the Sneaker Waves". I see a little girl down at the bottom of the stairs without supervision. Sneaker waves can come up without warning and cause dangerous undertows. I'm about to go get the little girl when her mother and older sister show up and are totally unconcerned. Yikes!
We can see another lighthouse on a distant cliff.
Our GPS is funny. She says "double yoo Beaver Hill Rd." instead of West Beaver Hill.
I'm noticing that ponytails on men are very common out here. I like the look.
Unfortunately, there is a squished porcupine in the middle of the road as we are leaving.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Day 62- Thursday, 8/20/09, SETTLED
We stop at the Umpquah Lighthouse. It is closed, so we plan to come back another day.
There is a special event in town this weekend: The Oregon OldTime Fiddlers Jam. We are excited because we think we might be able to dance. Turns out the musicians take up so much space, and there are so many chairs for observers, that there is no place for us to move. However, we very much enjoy the amazing talent we witness.
This time we luck out and have a really good seafood dinner in Winchester, with a lovely view of the bay and all the sailboats moored there.
Drydocked on shore we see several old boats that are for sale or being worked on. We wonder what are the stories behind their history: Where have they been? What are the people like who worked on them or sailed them? Where are those people now?
There is a special event in town this weekend: The Oregon OldTime Fiddlers Jam. We are excited because we think we might be able to dance. Turns out the musicians take up so much space, and there are so many chairs for observers, that there is no place for us to move. However, we very much enjoy the amazing talent we witness.
This time we luck out and have a really good seafood dinner in Winchester, with a lovely view of the bay and all the sailboats moored there.
Drydocked on shore we see several old boats that are for sale or being worked on. We wonder what are the stories behind their history: Where have they been? What are the people like who worked on them or sailed them? Where are those people now?
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Day 61- Wednesday, 8/19/09, SETTLED
Bob buys smoked salmon, smoked salmon sticks, and smoked oyster sticks. Yum!
We have a cranberry juice bottle in our refrigerator in the camper. When we go to open it, it is sucked in from the change in altitude.
In our search for gifts for family, we buy wine, cheese, and a lighthouse puzzle for Bob's son-in-law Nate in WI.
On the pier, we talk to people crabbing. One guy catches "a keeper" while we are there. It has to be male, over 5 3/4", carefully measured with a special ruler. Sea lions are stealing fish bait from their traps. Some people are using chicken legs for that reason.
It is very misty and overcast all day. The mist keeps moving in and out, so sometimes the trees look silhouetted and mysterious and sometimes they can't be seen at all.
We eat dinner at a little seafood restaurant where the food is only mediocre. Not only that, but the waitress has one of those laughs that sounds like a cackle, and her face does not change expressions. It is as though she is going to have a psychological breakdown any minute. Spooky.
We have a cranberry juice bottle in our refrigerator in the camper. When we go to open it, it is sucked in from the change in altitude.
In our search for gifts for family, we buy wine, cheese, and a lighthouse puzzle for Bob's son-in-law Nate in WI.
On the pier, we talk to people crabbing. One guy catches "a keeper" while we are there. It has to be male, over 5 3/4", carefully measured with a special ruler. Sea lions are stealing fish bait from their traps. Some people are using chicken legs for that reason.
It is very misty and overcast all day. The mist keeps moving in and out, so sometimes the trees look silhouetted and mysterious and sometimes they can't be seen at all.
We eat dinner at a little seafood restaurant where the food is only mediocre. Not only that, but the waitress has one of those laughs that sounds like a cackle, and her face does not change expressions. It is as though she is going to have a psychological breakdown any minute. Spooky.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Day 60- Tuesday - 8/18/09 - ON THE ROAD
Small World Story 2: At the Umpqua River Lighthouse Overlook, Bob meets a kindergarten classmate of his from the one-room schoolhouse he attended! They didn't recognize each other (no surprise after 60 years), but both remembered the name of their teacher, and they were born the same year.
His wife is also very nice. They live in Tampa now and we'll probably keep in touch. We have a 1-hr. conversation.
This happens every time Bob wears his "Monroe-Woodbury" t-shirt and/or his 1943 Model baseball hat.
Driving to Coos Bay, after we pass Glide, OR, we smell a horrible odor. Is it fertilizer? Carcases? Livestock? Chemicals from Roseburg?
We arrive in Coos Bay and love it already. We luck into a gigantic RV site because someone with a big rig backs out at the last minute and that was the only one this park has left. I'm excited because we are only 5 days from my sister Roz in Portland, and I can never get enough of the ocean.
Upsides: It's very posh here.
They have Bingo tonight, but Bob is not "a Bingo kind of guy" (his words).
A hedge separates our site from the next ones and there's a woods behind us.
Good Wi-Fi.
Downsides: No fire pit.
We're on asphalt, not on grass or pine needles.
There are video cameras watching us.
There is a sign that says if you don't pick up after your dog, you will be asked to leave the park.
Outdated DVD collection. (But on the other hand, we have to give them credit for at lease having DVD's, which few campgrounds do.)
On the way to dinner, we see hairy hilltops, some thick with tree-hair and some sparse and almost bald. We stop to see a herd of elk in the prairie. There are two bucks. Overheard from another passerby: "Aren't they gorgeous. Look good on the dinner table, too". To me, this does not compute. We hear the elks bugling.
After dinner at Fisherman's Grotto, (where Corinne has a calamari steak for the first time ever and finds it out of this world both in taste and texture), we go to Sunset Park on the beach for stunning views of the sun disappearing behind the horizon. The reflections on the water are gorgeous.
His wife is also very nice. They live in Tampa now and we'll probably keep in touch. We have a 1-hr. conversation.
This happens every time Bob wears his "Monroe-Woodbury" t-shirt and/or his 1943 Model baseball hat.
Driving to Coos Bay, after we pass Glide, OR, we smell a horrible odor. Is it fertilizer? Carcases? Livestock? Chemicals from Roseburg?
We arrive in Coos Bay and love it already. We luck into a gigantic RV site because someone with a big rig backs out at the last minute and that was the only one this park has left. I'm excited because we are only 5 days from my sister Roz in Portland, and I can never get enough of the ocean.
Upsides: It's very posh here.
They have Bingo tonight, but Bob is not "a Bingo kind of guy" (his words).
A hedge separates our site from the next ones and there's a woods behind us.
Good Wi-Fi.
Downsides: No fire pit.
We're on asphalt, not on grass or pine needles.
There are video cameras watching us.
There is a sign that says if you don't pick up after your dog, you will be asked to leave the park.
Outdated DVD collection. (But on the other hand, we have to give them credit for at lease having DVD's, which few campgrounds do.)
On the way to dinner, we see hairy hilltops, some thick with tree-hair and some sparse and almost bald. We stop to see a herd of elk in the prairie. There are two bucks. Overheard from another passerby: "Aren't they gorgeous. Look good on the dinner table, too". To me, this does not compute. We hear the elks bugling.
After dinner at Fisherman's Grotto, (where Corinne has a calamari steak for the first time ever and finds it out of this world both in taste and texture), we go to Sunset Park on the beach for stunning views of the sun disappearing behind the horizon. The reflections on the water are gorgeous.
Monday, August 17, 2009
Day 59 - Monday, 8/17/09, SETTLED
Shower privacy is a tricky thing in a campground. You're right next to someone you don't know, hearing all the human body sounds people make in the shower. You might not even see their face before you or they leave. You want to make idle conversation, but feel they might not want their "moment" invaded.
Bob has decided he will give in and get a hearing aid when we get home. Here's an example of why:
CORINNE: There's Sawyer's Rapids. BOB: Enjoy your travels? See, the vowels are about right, but the consonants are not even close.
In the last two days we meet people from Scotland, Germany, Alberta, British Columbia, Puerto Rico, Korea, England and Australia. It pays to chat people up - this morning we find a donated pile of firewood left for us by a neighborhing RV'er with whom we chatted the day before.
Bob is trying not to buy gasoline, since it is $3.45 a gallon here.
We go back to Crater Lake today to see the other side. Stunningly blue. Many surprises await us - lava fumerole pinnacles, a waterfall, rock formations we do not expect. One is called Pumice Castle, which juts out of the cliffsides. It reminds us of Bryce. The other is Phantom Ship, a little island close to the shore which resembles its namesake.
There is a tree sticking up in the middle of the lake. It is called "The Old Man of the Lake". People have been noticing it since the 1920's. It is free-floating and travels around the lake with the currents.
At one viewpoint on the other side of the lake that we did not visit last time, we are so close to where the tour boat rides that we can hear the ranger talking. There are some other small boats moored near the tour boat station that we figure must be research vessels, since private boats are not allowed on the lake.
On the way "home", we pass Viday Falls, which we can see from the road. We pull off the road and I go in a little closer to take more detailed photos, as is my habit.
Tonight's sunset is gorgeous, and the stars the most numerous yet. We have another good campfire. Not many places in the West let you have them due to fire hazard, so we are grateful. Nothing more relaxing for Bob than sitting staring at the fire with a good glass of red wine.
Bob has decided he will give in and get a hearing aid when we get home. Here's an example of why:
CORINNE: There's Sawyer's Rapids. BOB: Enjoy your travels? See, the vowels are about right, but the consonants are not even close.
In the last two days we meet people from Scotland, Germany, Alberta, British Columbia, Puerto Rico, Korea, England and Australia. It pays to chat people up - this morning we find a donated pile of firewood left for us by a neighborhing RV'er with whom we chatted the day before.
Bob is trying not to buy gasoline, since it is $3.45 a gallon here.
We go back to Crater Lake today to see the other side. Stunningly blue. Many surprises await us - lava fumerole pinnacles, a waterfall, rock formations we do not expect. One is called Pumice Castle, which juts out of the cliffsides. It reminds us of Bryce. The other is Phantom Ship, a little island close to the shore which resembles its namesake.
There is a tree sticking up in the middle of the lake. It is called "The Old Man of the Lake". People have been noticing it since the 1920's. It is free-floating and travels around the lake with the currents.
At one viewpoint on the other side of the lake that we did not visit last time, we are so close to where the tour boat rides that we can hear the ranger talking. There are some other small boats moored near the tour boat station that we figure must be research vessels, since private boats are not allowed on the lake.
On the way "home", we pass Viday Falls, which we can see from the road. We pull off the road and I go in a little closer to take more detailed photos, as is my habit.
Tonight's sunset is gorgeous, and the stars the most numerous yet. We have another good campfire. Not many places in the West let you have them due to fire hazard, so we are grateful. Nothing more relaxing for Bob than sitting staring at the fire with a good glass of red wine.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Day 58 - Sunday, 8/16/09 - SETTLED
We decide to ride our bikes to the Senior Breakfast Buffet at the Diamond Lake Resort 3 miles down the road. Then we finish the other 8 miles of the 11 mile bike loop around Diamond Lake. What a pleasure to not have to deal with cars. Twice we cross over the main road, but the rest of the time all we have to deal with is other bikers, and a few walkers.
It is a beautiful day, 76 degrees, and lovely scenery greets us, ranging from small creeks and lakes to meadows, to pine forest. We see some of the same hot pink wildflowers we had seen in Alaska years ago.
When we get back to the Resort, we order a Veggie Pizza to go, for lunch. Then we take it easy after such strenuous activity in the early part of the day, catching up on laundry and blogging.
It is weird being 10 feet from another residence. You can see into their windows and hear everything they say. Most people are friendly, but you know you are never going to see them again. Some just stare at you when you walk by. Seems like those are mostly people not from the US.
At sunset we go back there a third time to get ice cream. We sit on the giant logs at lakeside and watch the fishermen bring in their catches of salmon and perch. Only those who venture out to the middle of the lake in boats catch anything. The fish are not biting in the shallows, we are told.
What a day! Here we are allowed to have campfires, which Bob loves, so we gather our kindling and then sit around the fire and relax, watching the stars come out. We make S'mores.
Then Bob goes to bed and I watch videos for an hour and a half or so before I'm ready to turn in. This has become my usual pattern, since I am a night owl.
If we have wi-fi, I can watch my favorite shows on Hulu. It normally takes an hour and a half to watch a 43 minute show without commercial interruption because the wi-fi connection is usually "low" or "fair" and the show will pause for 30 seconds about every 5 minutes. It's annoying, but I'd rather endure that than read. That's my anti-intellectual stance in life.
It is a beautiful day, 76 degrees, and lovely scenery greets us, ranging from small creeks and lakes to meadows, to pine forest. We see some of the same hot pink wildflowers we had seen in Alaska years ago.
When we get back to the Resort, we order a Veggie Pizza to go, for lunch. Then we take it easy after such strenuous activity in the early part of the day, catching up on laundry and blogging.
It is weird being 10 feet from another residence. You can see into their windows and hear everything they say. Most people are friendly, but you know you are never going to see them again. Some just stare at you when you walk by. Seems like those are mostly people not from the US.
At sunset we go back there a third time to get ice cream. We sit on the giant logs at lakeside and watch the fishermen bring in their catches of salmon and perch. Only those who venture out to the middle of the lake in boats catch anything. The fish are not biting in the shallows, we are told.
What a day! Here we are allowed to have campfires, which Bob loves, so we gather our kindling and then sit around the fire and relax, watching the stars come out. We make S'mores.
Then Bob goes to bed and I watch videos for an hour and a half or so before I'm ready to turn in. This has become my usual pattern, since I am a night owl.
If we have wi-fi, I can watch my favorite shows on Hulu. It normally takes an hour and a half to watch a 43 minute show without commercial interruption because the wi-fi connection is usually "low" or "fair" and the show will pause for 30 seconds about every 5 minutes. It's annoying, but I'd rather endure that than read. That's my anti-intellectual stance in life.
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Day 57 - Saturday, 8/15/09 - SETTLED
We go from air conditioning all day to freezing cold at night. Pioneer woman Corinne wants heat and hot water in the mornings. There is ice on the RV from dripping water. The temperature out is 31 degrees!
Today we visit Crater Lake. There is a bike race on the way. Crater Lake is the deepest lake in the US - 1,932 feet deep.
What an astoundingly beautiful place! The water is so blue, almost navy in places, and crystal clear. There are several green lagoons at the edges. There is a boat ride around the lake, but the hike down is 2 miles, which wouldn't be impossible if it weren't for the hike back up.
While we are at one of the viewpoints, we see a half-dozen ambulances and police vehicles. There is apparently a medical emergency at the Cleatwood Trail.
What we have learned today: Never ask a young person how far the hike is that they have just completed, or how long it took. Their answer will never match your skill level.
Today we visit Crater Lake. There is a bike race on the way. Crater Lake is the deepest lake in the US - 1,932 feet deep.
What an astoundingly beautiful place! The water is so blue, almost navy in places, and crystal clear. There are several green lagoons at the edges. There is a boat ride around the lake, but the hike down is 2 miles, which wouldn't be impossible if it weren't for the hike back up.
While we are at one of the viewpoints, we see a half-dozen ambulances and police vehicles. There is apparently a medical emergency at the Cleatwood Trail.
What we have learned today: Never ask a young person how far the hike is that they have just completed, or how long it took. Their answer will never match your skill level.
Friday, August 14, 2009
Day 56 - Friday, 8/14/09 - SETTLED
Diamond Lake RV Park is special because each campsite comes with two chipmunks living under the concrete patio. We place a level under our wheels and find that the chipmunks quickly dig a hole at the base of the leveling device as well.
Today is Waterfall Day.
In our search for Lemolo Falls, 120 feet high, we follow Dread and Terror Ridge to the overlook. Some of the names are so humorous. We can see the snow on Bailey Mountain and Theilsen Peak, which is an inactive volcano.
Our next stop is Clearwater Falls, which has a clear pool at the top. The falls is 30 feet high.
White Horse Falls is a punchbowl falls. It is only 15 feet high, but impressive nonetheless.
At 272 feet in height, Watson Falls involves a 1/2 mile uphill hike. It is totally worth the effort.
Ketee Falls is closed due to damage. We can see that they are repairing something on the way to the falls.
Today is Waterfall Day.
In our search for Lemolo Falls, 120 feet high, we follow Dread and Terror Ridge to the overlook. Some of the names are so humorous. We can see the snow on Bailey Mountain and Theilsen Peak, which is an inactive volcano.
Our next stop is Clearwater Falls, which has a clear pool at the top. The falls is 30 feet high.
White Horse Falls is a punchbowl falls. It is only 15 feet high, but impressive nonetheless.
At 272 feet in height, Watson Falls involves a 1/2 mile uphill hike. It is totally worth the effort.
Ketee Falls is closed due to damage. We can see that they are repairing something on the way to the falls.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Day 55- Thursday, 8/13/09 - ON THE ROAD
The Smith River is emerald green and crystal clear. There are rapids in the gorge.
I begin to see Manzanitas again, my favorite tree. They range from ground-cover to 30 feet in height. Their bark can be brown at the base, like a normal tree, but seems to peel off in layers. First there is a red layer, then underneath there can be a yellow layer, smooth as a baby's bottom or sinewy and twisted.
We buy beef, buffalo and elk jerky at a roadside stand, just for the sake of saying we tried them.
Bob has always wanted to see Oregon, so he is especially excited about this part of the trip. The roads and scenery remind him so much of summertime in Mombasha and Monroe, NY, where he grew up.
We see U-Pick flowers along the road, with a gorgeous selection. We can't take any, though, because we have no way of keeping the vase upright during our travels.
There is a store called Burlesque, which has driftwood furniture and toys. Clever!
We are in the foothills of the Cascade Mountains. There is a paved bike path along the Rogue River, like a tiny two-lane road below us. What a luxury, to have a two-lane bike path off the road!
On the left, we see farm fields, and rocky prairie with scrubby bushes on the right, interspersed with horse ranches.
At the roadside, there are huge pipes, for a pump storage facility to make electricity. The water is pumped from the Rogue River.
I begin to see Manzanitas again, my favorite tree. They range from ground-cover to 30 feet in height. Their bark can be brown at the base, like a normal tree, but seems to peel off in layers. First there is a red layer, then underneath there can be a yellow layer, smooth as a baby's bottom or sinewy and twisted.
We buy beef, buffalo and elk jerky at a roadside stand, just for the sake of saying we tried them.
Bob has always wanted to see Oregon, so he is especially excited about this part of the trip. The roads and scenery remind him so much of summertime in Mombasha and Monroe, NY, where he grew up.
We see U-Pick flowers along the road, with a gorgeous selection. We can't take any, though, because we have no way of keeping the vase upright during our travels.
There is a store called Burlesque, which has driftwood furniture and toys. Clever!
We are in the foothills of the Cascade Mountains. There is a paved bike path along the Rogue River, like a tiny two-lane road below us. What a luxury, to have a two-lane bike path off the road!
On the left, we see farm fields, and rocky prairie with scrubby bushes on the right, interspersed with horse ranches.
At the roadside, there are huge pipes, for a pump storage facility to make electricity. The water is pumped from the Rogue River.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Day 54 - Wednesday, 8/12/09 , SETTLED
There is actually a giant redwood in the woods just opposite our campground. This morning we see it for the first time.
We return to the State Forest to see Big Tree. In the 1920's someone wanted to cut the tree down to make a dance floor out of it, but there were so many protests that it was saved.
Earlier in the week we had been told that there was a local herd of elk, but we had been unsuccessful in finding them thus far. Today we get lucky. We go back to the same place we had been before, and there they are! 20 feet from the edge of the road, they are placidly grazing in the tall grass and eating berries from the bushes at the edge of the meadow.
There are 3 herds, with three males with huge racks of antlers, many females and a few youngsters. We stand in fascination as they completely disregard us and keep on munching.
One stupid observer, though, tries to imitate their call until the other bystanders shush him and remind him that what he is doing could endanger us all.
On our return trip, we observe a toad "walking" in the road. Not hopping, but walking on all fours. That's a first for us.
I talk to my little two-year old grandson tonight on speaker-phone. It was the first time we can actually chat without SKYPE. He knows who I am and who Bob is, without prompting and just by our voices rather than images. It's so exciting, developmentally, and so emotional for us. We miss him so.
He tells us that he had ridden on a fire truck at school but they didn't turn on the siren "No, they didn't did do dat" and that he was going to wear his football shirt tomorrow "I wear pooball shirt" (It's the first game of the playoffs for the Ravens, which his parents are fanatics about).
In the evening, we hear a huge crash down the road. Soon there are sirens and we wonder what has happened. After about an hour, we hear the sound of chainsaws and we are told that a giant old maple tree has spontaneously fallen into the road and blocked traffic completely.
We return to the State Forest to see Big Tree. In the 1920's someone wanted to cut the tree down to make a dance floor out of it, but there were so many protests that it was saved.
Earlier in the week we had been told that there was a local herd of elk, but we had been unsuccessful in finding them thus far. Today we get lucky. We go back to the same place we had been before, and there they are! 20 feet from the edge of the road, they are placidly grazing in the tall grass and eating berries from the bushes at the edge of the meadow.
There are 3 herds, with three males with huge racks of antlers, many females and a few youngsters. We stand in fascination as they completely disregard us and keep on munching.
One stupid observer, though, tries to imitate their call until the other bystanders shush him and remind him that what he is doing could endanger us all.
On our return trip, we observe a toad "walking" in the road. Not hopping, but walking on all fours. That's a first for us.
I talk to my little two-year old grandson tonight on speaker-phone. It was the first time we can actually chat without SKYPE. He knows who I am and who Bob is, without prompting and just by our voices rather than images. It's so exciting, developmentally, and so emotional for us. We miss him so.
He tells us that he had ridden on a fire truck at school but they didn't turn on the siren "No, they didn't did do dat" and that he was going to wear his football shirt tomorrow "I wear pooball shirt" (It's the first game of the playoffs for the Ravens, which his parents are fanatics about).
In the evening, we hear a huge crash down the road. Soon there are sirens and we wonder what has happened. After about an hour, we hear the sound of chainsaws and we are told that a giant old maple tree has spontaneously fallen into the road and blocked traffic completely.
Day 53- Tuesday, 8/11/09, SETTLED
We look like racoons without our sunglasses. My feet are streaked from my sandal straps. Bob's ankles wear permanent sock marks. Our palms are like little monkeys' - creamy pink compared to the rugged brown of our fingers and hands. The tans snuck up on us.
There is evidence further down in the campground that the little bear cub has torn up several garbage cans' contents and littered them in the field. Strangely enough, we are not scared.
We visit the Lady Bird Johnson Redwood National Park. There is a huge cement bridge leading over the creek to the trail. While the trees are large and impressive, we find we liked the State Park much better, as it did not feel so commercialized.
There is evidence further down in the campground that the little bear cub has torn up several garbage cans' contents and littered them in the field. Strangely enough, we are not scared.
We visit the Lady Bird Johnson Redwood National Park. There is a huge cement bridge leading over the creek to the trail. While the trees are large and impressive, we find we liked the State Park much better, as it did not feel so commercialized.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Day 52- Monday, 8/10/09, SETTLED
We visit the state park that we heard had the biggest redwoods. Can't remember the name of it. The redwoods are unimaginably huge. We are very impressed by stories that they are more than a thousand years old. Next to them we feel dwarfed and unimportant.
There is a little trail through the redwoods that leads to a tiny waterfall. It is very peaceful there.
As we are driving back to our campground, we see an ad for another campground where there is a sign saying "Campground with host". It never occurred to us before that a campground wouldn't have a host and that this fact would need to be mentioned as a selling point.
In fact, we have been talking about perhaps some day in the future taking a summer somewhere we really loved on this trip and being a host. That would require cleaning bathrooms as well as answering people's questions and checking them in to the park, but we would get to stay in the campground for free.
In the evening, we are sitting around our little campfire outside our RV. Suddenly I hear a rustling and say to Bob: "There's something out there!" He runs to get our flashlight and shines it into the woods behind our vehicle. Sho' nuff, there's a real live black bear cub tugging at the black plastic of the garbage can at the edge of the road leading out!
After tearing off a piece and being unsuccessful in prying open the lid, he toddles off. We warn all the newcomers to the park about what we have seen.
There is a little trail through the redwoods that leads to a tiny waterfall. It is very peaceful there.
As we are driving back to our campground, we see an ad for another campground where there is a sign saying "Campground with host". It never occurred to us before that a campground wouldn't have a host and that this fact would need to be mentioned as a selling point.
In fact, we have been talking about perhaps some day in the future taking a summer somewhere we really loved on this trip and being a host. That would require cleaning bathrooms as well as answering people's questions and checking them in to the park, but we would get to stay in the campground for free.
In the evening, we are sitting around our little campfire outside our RV. Suddenly I hear a rustling and say to Bob: "There's something out there!" He runs to get our flashlight and shines it into the woods behind our vehicle. Sho' nuff, there's a real live black bear cub tugging at the black plastic of the garbage can at the edge of the road leading out!
After tearing off a piece and being unsuccessful in prying open the lid, he toddles off. We warn all the newcomers to the park about what we have seen.
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Day 51 - Sunday, 8/9/09 - SETTLED
We do the typical touristy thing and drive through a giant redwood tree. I remember doing that in 1988 with my kids, who were then in 5th and 8th grade. The tree is owned by an elderly couple, and they make $4 every time a car drives through. Seemed like a pretty constant stream of people.
Next we drive the Coastal Highway and walk along a black volcanic cinder sand beach where the Klamath River is on one side and the Pacific on the other. So amazing. There are Yurok Indians fishing for salmon, where there are two sacred rocks, Oregos and her sister, protecting the mouth of the Klamath.
The Yuroks have had rights to that land since time immemorial, and their ritual rites site is nearby. Each structure, all built of redwood planks, has a specific purpose.
It's in the 70's here, and at night gets cold enough that we are now using 2 blankets and having a campfire before we call it a night. This is the first place since TN, 7 weeks ago, where we were allowed to have a campfire due to forest fire restrictions. What a pleasure.
This campground is very rustic, with few amenities, save the BBQ and music the night we arrived. There is no working laundry at the moment, and only one bathroom, which is far away and mostly occupied by tenters.
However, it is in the trees and very quiet, so we feel we have the whole place to ourselves at night. They don't water their grass, so it is all brown. We're happy, though, because the wireless internet connection is strong and free of charge.
We buy salmon jerky and enjoy its saltiness and chewy texture.
In the evening, "Fog creeps in on little cat feet". It's kind of spooky, because it's really like a cloud is coming to the ground to envelop the place. Maybe we've watched too many horror movies.
Bob is excited about seeing the giant redwoods, which he has never seen before. What is the difference between redwoods and sequoias, we wonder? We are told that redwoods grow on the coast and sequoias grow further inland. They can both be old growth trees and huge.
Next we drive the Coastal Highway and walk along a black volcanic cinder sand beach where the Klamath River is on one side and the Pacific on the other. So amazing. There are Yurok Indians fishing for salmon, where there are two sacred rocks, Oregos and her sister, protecting the mouth of the Klamath.
The Yuroks have had rights to that land since time immemorial, and their ritual rites site is nearby. Each structure, all built of redwood planks, has a specific purpose.
It's in the 70's here, and at night gets cold enough that we are now using 2 blankets and having a campfire before we call it a night. This is the first place since TN, 7 weeks ago, where we were allowed to have a campfire due to forest fire restrictions. What a pleasure.
This campground is very rustic, with few amenities, save the BBQ and music the night we arrived. There is no working laundry at the moment, and only one bathroom, which is far away and mostly occupied by tenters.
However, it is in the trees and very quiet, so we feel we have the whole place to ourselves at night. They don't water their grass, so it is all brown. We're happy, though, because the wireless internet connection is strong and free of charge.
We buy salmon jerky and enjoy its saltiness and chewy texture.
In the evening, "Fog creeps in on little cat feet". It's kind of spooky, because it's really like a cloud is coming to the ground to envelop the place. Maybe we've watched too many horror movies.
Bob is excited about seeing the giant redwoods, which he has never seen before. What is the difference between redwoods and sequoias, we wonder? We are told that redwoods grow on the coast and sequoias grow further inland. They can both be old growth trees and huge.
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Day 50 - Saturday 8/8/09 - ON THE ROAD
Our marshmallow skewers hanging on the hook by the door is making a nice windchime when it connects with the metal rod we use to open our RV awning.
When you live in an RV, it seems you have to downsize everything, even your dog. Half the people we see traveling have what Bob calls "Little Yip-Yip Dogs". Some RV parks even specify that you can't bring a dog that weighs over 25 lb.
We have been seeing signs asking "Do You Have Defensible Space?". Until now we didn't understand what that meant. We figured it had something to do with fire safety, since the signs usually appeared at or near fire stations. Now we finally see a handwritten sign that explains: "Keep firewood far from the house. Keep a shovel on hand. Keep grass and brush cut short. Have an exit plan. "
We are led by a Pilot Car through construction due to "highway realignment". They are changing the shoulders to widen them, but their constraints include the narrowness of the road and the fact that there are cliffs on one side. The roads wind in extreme hairpin curves. The pilot car assures that noone speeds through the construction, which could injure both drivers and workers.
Our water bottles pop due to air pressure rising from the increasing elevation. They seem like they might explode; they are so fat. We feel we are in a roller coaster. It is helpful that the highway department has put in very tall reflectors, which reflect both on the bottom and at car height.
The Trinity River area is bounded by the Trinity Alps, rugged, rocky foothills coated with Ponderosa Pines. We pass two people getting ready to go tubing and kayaking. Looks like fun.
We see a huge sawmill at Weaverville. There are thousands of stacked full-length, tree-sized pine logs being sprinkled with water to age them. It's in a cute little Victorian town.
People build huge houses on the hilltops out West for the view. Can't even imagine the cost of just hauling all the materials up there.
Futher down the Trinity there are serious rapids. We watch as three teens tube their way through two sets of whitewater, screaming as they go through the rocky areas.
We get some nice sandwiches at Granny's Shack in Salier, CA, but they have no bathrooms. Aargh!
It appears that every National Forest sign says at the bottom: "Land of Many Uses". It took us four thousand miles to figure out the the saying applied to them all.
Route 101 winds in and out of ocean views and in and out of Tsunami Hazard Zones. The signs say "Entering Tsunami Zone" and then a few miles later when the road is higher above the water, "Leaving Tsunami Zone". Despite the fact that there is no severe weather predicted, and the water looks quite calm, I find myself heaving little sighs of relief at the second sign.
We see our second agri-pride sign of our trip. The first was a license plate back in Utah that said "I feed you". This time we see a hand-lettered wooden sign set up in front of a house that says "Fishermen Feed America". Driving these roads certainly does bring home the idea of where our food really comes from.
We arrive in Klamath, CA where we are rewarded by a free salmon/chicken BBQ dinner and live music. There are dozens of tables set up with umbrellas in the center, and a little stage with amps.
One of the guests who is not camping at our campground we call "Bikeman". He arrives on his bike and obviously has a mental health problem. Most of the time he is talking to himself, not making eye contact with anyone. The campground hosts seem very tolerant of him, so we figure he is a regular at their weekly BBQ's and they help him out with a free dinner.
We meet a young man, Eric, who is taking movies of the goings-on. He explains that he and his buddy, Ryan, are tent-camping here as part of a short road trip before college starts. They have known each other since Kindergarten.
There are three musicians. The string-bass player sits on his Handi-scooter the whole time. We hear that he sings beautifully, but cannot play and sing at the same time. The guitar player is an employee of the campground and provides the banter as well as doing most of the singing.
Towards the end of the second set, Ryan gets invited up on stage with his mandolin. For the rest of the performance, he joins the others to play and sing beautifully, a few old favorites and a few things he writes.
A Small World Story: Turns out Ryan is studying Film at Ithaca College and lives in Fall Creek! So we exhange details and plan to contact each other when we get home. Ryan already has a CD of his music and might change to the Music Department.
When you live in an RV, it seems you have to downsize everything, even your dog. Half the people we see traveling have what Bob calls "Little Yip-Yip Dogs". Some RV parks even specify that you can't bring a dog that weighs over 25 lb.
We have been seeing signs asking "Do You Have Defensible Space?". Until now we didn't understand what that meant. We figured it had something to do with fire safety, since the signs usually appeared at or near fire stations. Now we finally see a handwritten sign that explains: "Keep firewood far from the house. Keep a shovel on hand. Keep grass and brush cut short. Have an exit plan. "
We are led by a Pilot Car through construction due to "highway realignment". They are changing the shoulders to widen them, but their constraints include the narrowness of the road and the fact that there are cliffs on one side. The roads wind in extreme hairpin curves. The pilot car assures that noone speeds through the construction, which could injure both drivers and workers.
Our water bottles pop due to air pressure rising from the increasing elevation. They seem like they might explode; they are so fat. We feel we are in a roller coaster. It is helpful that the highway department has put in very tall reflectors, which reflect both on the bottom and at car height.
The Trinity River area is bounded by the Trinity Alps, rugged, rocky foothills coated with Ponderosa Pines. We pass two people getting ready to go tubing and kayaking. Looks like fun.
We see a huge sawmill at Weaverville. There are thousands of stacked full-length, tree-sized pine logs being sprinkled with water to age them. It's in a cute little Victorian town.
People build huge houses on the hilltops out West for the view. Can't even imagine the cost of just hauling all the materials up there.
Futher down the Trinity there are serious rapids. We watch as three teens tube their way through two sets of whitewater, screaming as they go through the rocky areas.
We get some nice sandwiches at Granny's Shack in Salier, CA, but they have no bathrooms. Aargh!
It appears that every National Forest sign says at the bottom: "Land of Many Uses". It took us four thousand miles to figure out the the saying applied to them all.
Route 101 winds in and out of ocean views and in and out of Tsunami Hazard Zones. The signs say "Entering Tsunami Zone" and then a few miles later when the road is higher above the water, "Leaving Tsunami Zone". Despite the fact that there is no severe weather predicted, and the water looks quite calm, I find myself heaving little sighs of relief at the second sign.
We see our second agri-pride sign of our trip. The first was a license plate back in Utah that said "I feed you". This time we see a hand-lettered wooden sign set up in front of a house that says "Fishermen Feed America". Driving these roads certainly does bring home the idea of where our food really comes from.
We arrive in Klamath, CA where we are rewarded by a free salmon/chicken BBQ dinner and live music. There are dozens of tables set up with umbrellas in the center, and a little stage with amps.
One of the guests who is not camping at our campground we call "Bikeman". He arrives on his bike and obviously has a mental health problem. Most of the time he is talking to himself, not making eye contact with anyone. The campground hosts seem very tolerant of him, so we figure he is a regular at their weekly BBQ's and they help him out with a free dinner.
We meet a young man, Eric, who is taking movies of the goings-on. He explains that he and his buddy, Ryan, are tent-camping here as part of a short road trip before college starts. They have known each other since Kindergarten.
There are three musicians. The string-bass player sits on his Handi-scooter the whole time. We hear that he sings beautifully, but cannot play and sing at the same time. The guitar player is an employee of the campground and provides the banter as well as doing most of the singing.
Towards the end of the second set, Ryan gets invited up on stage with his mandolin. For the rest of the performance, he joins the others to play and sing beautifully, a few old favorites and a few things he writes.
A Small World Story: Turns out Ryan is studying Film at Ithaca College and lives in Fall Creek! So we exhange details and plan to contact each other when we get home. Ryan already has a CD of his music and might change to the Music Department.
Friday, August 7, 2009
Day 49- Friday, 8/7/09 - SETTLED
We are heading back to finish our self-guided tour of Lassen Volcanic National Park, which last time was interrupted by darkness. Today we get an earlier start. It's only 78 degrees.
There were 855 lightening strikes last night at Hat Creek, where we were supposed to have stayed. I don't know how they count the lightening strikes.
I break down and spend the money on a new digital battery for my Canon G2 camera. Now all I need is a lens hood for both the Canon and the Fuji to prevent sun wash-out. At least I won't run out of power just when I come to the best photo-op of the day any more.
Bob has decided to experiment with a longer mustache and no beard. He has shaved most of his beard off, and left only the movie-star scruffy stuff. I finally get to see his chin after all these years. He is also letting his hair grow long. I'm excited. By the time we get home, if he doesn't chicken out, it should be great.
We climb the Cinder Cone, two steps forward, one step back. It is literally a mountain of volcanic ash. My walking stick helps, like a third leg to anchor me, but I'm very slow. Bob lopes ahead. The view of the lava blobs and painted dunes is spectacular from the top. On the way back at dusk, we are the only ones in the woods. It is absolutely silent save for the swish-swish of our feet in the ashes.
I fantasize about what we would do if we encountered a bear. We would make a lot of noise by popping our water bottles and I will beat him off with my walking stick. HA! Take that!
The road back is unfolding before us, reflections appearing one by one as though they are being unrolled from a huge reel. They are so golden and bounce our bright lights back so well we feel we are on an airport runway and we are the plane.
On the road back we see the flames from several small fires in the pitch black, and the road is very smoky.
When I was thirteen and babysitting my three sibs while my parents went out to dinner, the house on the hill just above us caught fire. I was afraid the fire would jump the woods between us and set our house on fire.
A year later when I was at Camp Ramah in Wisconsin, the building that held the library with many sacred books caught fire. We campers had a double bucket brigade shuttling water from the lake in one direction and bringing the books out of the library in the other direction. We did this for at least a half hour until the fire department from Eagle River could come put the fire out. Ever since then, fires have freaked me out.
There were 855 lightening strikes last night at Hat Creek, where we were supposed to have stayed. I don't know how they count the lightening strikes.
I break down and spend the money on a new digital battery for my Canon G2 camera. Now all I need is a lens hood for both the Canon and the Fuji to prevent sun wash-out. At least I won't run out of power just when I come to the best photo-op of the day any more.
Bob has decided to experiment with a longer mustache and no beard. He has shaved most of his beard off, and left only the movie-star scruffy stuff. I finally get to see his chin after all these years. He is also letting his hair grow long. I'm excited. By the time we get home, if he doesn't chicken out, it should be great.
We climb the Cinder Cone, two steps forward, one step back. It is literally a mountain of volcanic ash. My walking stick helps, like a third leg to anchor me, but I'm very slow. Bob lopes ahead. The view of the lava blobs and painted dunes is spectacular from the top. On the way back at dusk, we are the only ones in the woods. It is absolutely silent save for the swish-swish of our feet in the ashes.
I fantasize about what we would do if we encountered a bear. We would make a lot of noise by popping our water bottles and I will beat him off with my walking stick. HA! Take that!
The road back is unfolding before us, reflections appearing one by one as though they are being unrolled from a huge reel. They are so golden and bounce our bright lights back so well we feel we are on an airport runway and we are the plane.
On the road back we see the flames from several small fires in the pitch black, and the road is very smoky.
When I was thirteen and babysitting my three sibs while my parents went out to dinner, the house on the hill just above us caught fire. I was afraid the fire would jump the woods between us and set our house on fire.
A year later when I was at Camp Ramah in Wisconsin, the building that held the library with many sacred books caught fire. We campers had a double bucket brigade shuttling water from the lake in one direction and bringing the books out of the library in the other direction. We did this for at least a half hour until the fire department from Eagle River could come put the fire out. Ever since then, fires have freaked me out.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Day 48 - Thursday, 8/6/09 - SETTLED
We are going to find Whiskeytown. It is the first cloudy day we have had so far. 73 degrees. No drama, just clouds leaking droplets.
The woman at the gas station says "Just get on 299 and follow the signs to Eureka. If you miss it, you shouldn't be driving". We miss it.
But we do find Whiskeytown Falls. It is on Mill Creek. The hike is 1.7 miles. It is 63 degrees at 1000 feet. We decide to challenge ourselves.
There is a family coming back with a 6-year old girl in bare feet. We figure if she can do it, so can we. They call her "Iron Feet". Little do we know that most of the hike is at extreme grades. There is no sign rating the degree of difficulty as we had on our UT and NV hikes.
Corinne has been having problems with her Canon PowerShot G2 camera, an oldie but goodie, not holding a charge very well. She has gotten by with charging it every night. After all that effort, we get to Whiskeytown Falls and the camera is dead!
The Falls tumbles down over huge boulders. It is about 300 feet tall, with two main drops, stopping in two pools. It is beautiful and certainly worth the hike. There is one giant tree trunk that has fallen diagonally across it and is worn smooth by the water. We watch a young guy with his dog balance their way across the log. Whoa!
Turns out all that's left of the old Whiskeytown is the cemetery, where the bodies were exhumed and moved.
Crystal Falls is aptly named. The water is perfectly clear. The walk is very quiet, save for a quail, digging a nest for her babies. We hear another bird call echoing in the Ponderosa Pines. We feel as though we have the woods to ourselves.
Today would have been my Mother's birthday, were she still alive (God rest her soul). She passed away 6 years ago. But perhaps she is still watching over me, which is why when I accidentally slam my pinkie finger in the car door, there is a National Park Visitor's Center 300 feet away. They have ice cold water bottles in their refrigerator which I use to keep the swelling down.
The woman at the gas station says "Just get on 299 and follow the signs to Eureka. If you miss it, you shouldn't be driving". We miss it.
But we do find Whiskeytown Falls. It is on Mill Creek. The hike is 1.7 miles. It is 63 degrees at 1000 feet. We decide to challenge ourselves.
There is a family coming back with a 6-year old girl in bare feet. We figure if she can do it, so can we. They call her "Iron Feet". Little do we know that most of the hike is at extreme grades. There is no sign rating the degree of difficulty as we had on our UT and NV hikes.
Corinne has been having problems with her Canon PowerShot G2 camera, an oldie but goodie, not holding a charge very well. She has gotten by with charging it every night. After all that effort, we get to Whiskeytown Falls and the camera is dead!
The Falls tumbles down over huge boulders. It is about 300 feet tall, with two main drops, stopping in two pools. It is beautiful and certainly worth the hike. There is one giant tree trunk that has fallen diagonally across it and is worn smooth by the water. We watch a young guy with his dog balance their way across the log. Whoa!
Turns out all that's left of the old Whiskeytown is the cemetery, where the bodies were exhumed and moved.
Crystal Falls is aptly named. The water is perfectly clear. The walk is very quiet, save for a quail, digging a nest for her babies. We hear another bird call echoing in the Ponderosa Pines. We feel as though we have the woods to ourselves.
Today would have been my Mother's birthday, were she still alive (God rest her soul). She passed away 6 years ago. But perhaps she is still watching over me, which is why when I accidentally slam my pinkie finger in the car door, there is a National Park Visitor's Center 300 feet away. They have ice cold water bottles in their refrigerator which I use to keep the swelling down.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Day 47 - Wednesday, 8/5/09 - SETTLED
There are big-time forest fires here in the mountains, which is both exciting and frightening. Our nostrils sting from the smoke. We plan to hike in Lassen Volcanic National Park, where a volcano erupted in 1915 and 1922, leaving huge truck-sized boulders and a crater with boiling sulfur pots.
The rest areas along Hwy. 44 are well hidden in the Ponderosa Pine Woods. They is evidence that they cut down as few trees as possible for construction.
We see a phenomenon we have seen before, where on an interpretive trail there are paved extensions. We start to call them "Future Benches", as though the Park Service is waiting for someone to make a donation for a bench and put their name on a plaque. Or maybe a new interpretive sign will be placed there when they have more funding.
The trail in Lassen Volcanic National Park is spectacular, with truck-sized black kacite boulders left by the volcano as the lava cooled. There are red and grey kacite boulders left by an eruption thousands of years ago. There are rocks on the left side and pine trees clinging to the cliffs on the
right.
The signpost says 30 minutes for a 1/2 mile hike to Bumpass Hell, the sulfur pots and boiling springs left by the volcanoes. They are amazing, despite the pungent odor. But the signs lie - it takes us an hour to get in and 30 minutes to get out.
We get a late start, so we walk out of there at moonrise. Thank God the rocks on our path are white. It's a little freaky. I see moon shadows for the first time in my life. So awe-inspiring, a true religious experience! Who was it who wrote that song "Moon Shadow"? Van Morrison? I can only remember the first words: "Moon shadow, moon shadow".
Temperature drops from 92 when we depart our campground in the afternoon to 41 at night at 8500 ft. Dressed in shorts and tank-tops, we aren't exactly prepared for the cold, and end up putting on everything we can find in the car. I have 2 sweaters, an old airline blanket for a skirt, and my yellow rain slicker. Bob has a windbreaker and a green rain poncho. We are warm enough, with the effort of hiking.
There is a family who comes in just as we are leaving Bumpass Hell, the sulfur pools. Once again I have trusted that the Universe will provide - they have lights with them!
Bob has been worried about how we will get out in the dark. I have been figuring that we will just hold on to the rocks on the mountain side of the path and use my camera and his cell phone for light. There are cliffs on the other side. I've never known him to be quite so anxious.
I find out later that he was worried about encountering big wildlife on the mountain, like cougars and bears. We see chipmunks, but that's all.
While I am having a wonderful time traveling, sometimes I feel so rootless, like there is a big hole in my soul. I know it is because I am missing all my connections back home. My friends are such a big part of my life. On the one hand I am always looking forward to our next adventure, and on the other hand I am counting down the weeks until I can return to my "real" life, my home, my own bed, my neighborhood, my kitty-cats, being closer to my adorable little grandson Nathan.
We laugh sometimes at our Garmin GPS, and call it "her", as in: "Let's see what she has to say". We haven't named her, though.
Sometimes her robotness is hilarious, as when she says: "Turn on Rt. 90 NO, or when she attaches consonants to the wrong ends of words, as in "Eas Tauto Doctor", (for East Auto Drive). But we can't live without her.
The temperature is crucial to our comfort. We are constantly checking the gauge in our car.
We skip dinner. Bob eats fruit, but Corinne craves junk food. At 11:00, nothing in town is open except McDonald's, so we break down and order a McFlurry and a Large Fries.
The rest areas along Hwy. 44 are well hidden in the Ponderosa Pine Woods. They is evidence that they cut down as few trees as possible for construction.
We see a phenomenon we have seen before, where on an interpretive trail there are paved extensions. We start to call them "Future Benches", as though the Park Service is waiting for someone to make a donation for a bench and put their name on a plaque. Or maybe a new interpretive sign will be placed there when they have more funding.
The trail in Lassen Volcanic National Park is spectacular, with truck-sized black kacite boulders left by the volcano as the lava cooled. There are red and grey kacite boulders left by an eruption thousands of years ago. There are rocks on the left side and pine trees clinging to the cliffs on the
right.
The signpost says 30 minutes for a 1/2 mile hike to Bumpass Hell, the sulfur pots and boiling springs left by the volcanoes. They are amazing, despite the pungent odor. But the signs lie - it takes us an hour to get in and 30 minutes to get out.
We get a late start, so we walk out of there at moonrise. Thank God the rocks on our path are white. It's a little freaky. I see moon shadows for the first time in my life. So awe-inspiring, a true religious experience! Who was it who wrote that song "Moon Shadow"? Van Morrison? I can only remember the first words: "Moon shadow, moon shadow".
Temperature drops from 92 when we depart our campground in the afternoon to 41 at night at 8500 ft. Dressed in shorts and tank-tops, we aren't exactly prepared for the cold, and end up putting on everything we can find in the car. I have 2 sweaters, an old airline blanket for a skirt, and my yellow rain slicker. Bob has a windbreaker and a green rain poncho. We are warm enough, with the effort of hiking.
There is a family who comes in just as we are leaving Bumpass Hell, the sulfur pools. Once again I have trusted that the Universe will provide - they have lights with them!
Bob has been worried about how we will get out in the dark. I have been figuring that we will just hold on to the rocks on the mountain side of the path and use my camera and his cell phone for light. There are cliffs on the other side. I've never known him to be quite so anxious.
I find out later that he was worried about encountering big wildlife on the mountain, like cougars and bears. We see chipmunks, but that's all.
While I am having a wonderful time traveling, sometimes I feel so rootless, like there is a big hole in my soul. I know it is because I am missing all my connections back home. My friends are such a big part of my life. On the one hand I am always looking forward to our next adventure, and on the other hand I am counting down the weeks until I can return to my "real" life, my home, my own bed, my neighborhood, my kitty-cats, being closer to my adorable little grandson Nathan.
We laugh sometimes at our Garmin GPS, and call it "her", as in: "Let's see what she has to say". We haven't named her, though.
Sometimes her robotness is hilarious, as when she says: "Turn on Rt. 90 NO, or when she attaches consonants to the wrong ends of words, as in "Eas Tauto Doctor", (for East Auto Drive). But we can't live without her.
The temperature is crucial to our comfort. We are constantly checking the gauge in our car.
We skip dinner. Bob eats fruit, but Corinne craves junk food. At 11:00, nothing in town is open except McDonald's, so we break down and order a McFlurry and a Large Fries.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Day 46 - Tuesday, 8/4/09 - ON THE ROAD
The campground in Hat Creek where we were going to spend a few nights is evacuated due to wildfires, so we are going to change our route a little bit.
We go through an RV Wash this morning to get the red dust and sand off. The Rovin' Art RV looks a lot better now. I can take pictures out of the windows while we are moving if I absolutely must.
At the California border, we are stopped for an Agricultural Inspection to check for gypsy moths. The inspector gets on one of those sliders that rolls on four wheels under the car and checks the chassis. We get away with none found, even though he had a light. We are happy; he is disappointed.
The terrain is getting more green and more meadow-like, with less desert flora and more high grass. The hillsides are coated with cedars. There are oodles of clear ponds and small lakes. The transition from desert to pine forest is instantaneous.
We see stacks of hay for sale. Some farmers are raising llamas.
Our stop in Susanville, CA for lunch is relaxing.
We drive past Hat Creek and are astounded by the drama of the fire we could have been caught in. There is thick black smoke on both sides of the road. The road is closed. The firefighters are in their yellow gear. There are helicopters and small planes overhead constantly. We can see the flames.
We go through an RV Wash this morning to get the red dust and sand off. The Rovin' Art RV looks a lot better now. I can take pictures out of the windows while we are moving if I absolutely must.
At the California border, we are stopped for an Agricultural Inspection to check for gypsy moths. The inspector gets on one of those sliders that rolls on four wheels under the car and checks the chassis. We get away with none found, even though he had a light. We are happy; he is disappointed.
The terrain is getting more green and more meadow-like, with less desert flora and more high grass. The hillsides are coated with cedars. There are oodles of clear ponds and small lakes. The transition from desert to pine forest is instantaneous.
We see stacks of hay for sale. Some farmers are raising llamas.
Our stop in Susanville, CA for lunch is relaxing.
We drive past Hat Creek and are astounded by the drama of the fire we could have been caught in. There is thick black smoke on both sides of the road. The road is closed. The firefighters are in their yellow gear. There are helicopters and small planes overhead constantly. We can see the flames.
Monday, August 3, 2009
Day 45 - Monday, 8/3/09, SETTLED
Out to breakfast. Corinne is craving French Toast. Bob has packed egg salad sandwiches for lunch. We plan to use one of our gift cards for Macaroni Grill for dinner in Reno.
We're not gamblers, so the fact that there are slot machines even in the grocery stores does not tempt us. The gigantic columns outside the Atlantic Casino are impressive.
The big thing out West is to identify your town by painting the first initial of the town on the hillside so passersby will recognize where they are.
For someone like me, with a fascination with hay bales, I've certainly gotten my fill here. There are walls of square hay bales, pyramids of hay bales. There are no silos, just stacked outside in humongous piles. Not even covered by tarps or plastic.
We visit Sand Mountain Recreation Area. The road is more than corrugated - more like a washboard. The sand was blown there 4,000 years from a lake that dried up, hundreds of miles away. Then the sand was trapped by the mountains and couldn't go any further.
This area was used by the Pony Express in 1860 - 1861. There are ruins from lava rock buildings that were used to shelter the Pony Express riders.
There are kangaroo rats and a giant jackrabbit with huge ears running among the lava rocks.
Above our heads Navy planes from a nearby base performed drills. They repeated touch-and-goes. We saw helicopters using their FLIRR, infra-red capacity.
I so hate to be hot that I would rather wear Keanes sandals and get hot sand in my toes than to be closed up in hiking boots.
Since I have no sense of direction, nor am I a one-trial learner of place, I rely on Bob to be my guide. While I spent a year working on the wedding, he spent a year working out the skeleton of our trip. Now we have the freedom to take it day by day, stopping at interesting architectural, geological or historical markers along the way, and even staying longer in one place overnight if we need to.
I should come back from our trip looking 10 years younger. Every day in the desert is like having microdermabrasion treatments to your skin. When we come home from a day of hiking, our skin is full of salt and sand.
I like to think I'll keep off the 5 pounds I've lost, too. Besides the constant activity, rock-climbing, sand-walking, trudging uphill at high altitudes, there is the fact that since I'm not watching TV at night, I'm not so tempted to snack.
Dicky-Du and his Zydeco Krewe come from LA to Reno to perform at a small club. He's the son of Roy Carrier. The audience is small but appreciative. We are grateful we can do some zydeco after 6 weeks away from our favorite kind of dancing.
One of Dicky-Du's roadies wears a L'il Anne and the Hot Cayenne t-shirt. L'il Anne is a local zydeco performer who is one of our favorites. We feel right at home.
We're not gamblers, so the fact that there are slot machines even in the grocery stores does not tempt us. The gigantic columns outside the Atlantic Casino are impressive.
The big thing out West is to identify your town by painting the first initial of the town on the hillside so passersby will recognize where they are.
For someone like me, with a fascination with hay bales, I've certainly gotten my fill here. There are walls of square hay bales, pyramids of hay bales. There are no silos, just stacked outside in humongous piles. Not even covered by tarps or plastic.
We visit Sand Mountain Recreation Area. The road is more than corrugated - more like a washboard. The sand was blown there 4,000 years from a lake that dried up, hundreds of miles away. Then the sand was trapped by the mountains and couldn't go any further.
This area was used by the Pony Express in 1860 - 1861. There are ruins from lava rock buildings that were used to shelter the Pony Express riders.
There are kangaroo rats and a giant jackrabbit with huge ears running among the lava rocks.
Above our heads Navy planes from a nearby base performed drills. They repeated touch-and-goes. We saw helicopters using their FLIRR, infra-red capacity.
I so hate to be hot that I would rather wear Keanes sandals and get hot sand in my toes than to be closed up in hiking boots.
Since I have no sense of direction, nor am I a one-trial learner of place, I rely on Bob to be my guide. While I spent a year working on the wedding, he spent a year working out the skeleton of our trip. Now we have the freedom to take it day by day, stopping at interesting architectural, geological or historical markers along the way, and even staying longer in one place overnight if we need to.
I should come back from our trip looking 10 years younger. Every day in the desert is like having microdermabrasion treatments to your skin. When we come home from a day of hiking, our skin is full of salt and sand.
I like to think I'll keep off the 5 pounds I've lost, too. Besides the constant activity, rock-climbing, sand-walking, trudging uphill at high altitudes, there is the fact that since I'm not watching TV at night, I'm not so tempted to snack.
Dicky-Du and his Zydeco Krewe come from LA to Reno to perform at a small club. He's the son of Roy Carrier. The audience is small but appreciative. We are grateful we can do some zydeco after 6 weeks away from our favorite kind of dancing.
One of Dicky-Du's roadies wears a L'il Anne and the Hot Cayenne t-shirt. L'il Anne is a local zydeco performer who is one of our favorites. We feel right at home.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Day 44- Sunday 8/2/09 - SETTLED
Our tenant Rob, who is renting our house for a month while we're away, tells us to go visit the Amazon.com warehouse, which is very secretive. We are curious. We try to find it according to the directions on the internet. The name on the building we find is Quebecor Retail Division.
There is a funny sign along the way at the Pawn Shop: Clearance Sale. That just strikes me as odd.
After much searching, I finally find a cowboy hat for my grandson Nathan. Garage Sale signs along the road have led us off into the desert to little back road with small houses and trailers. The hat is red, paper-based, and costs 50c!
On our visit to Virginia City, where many of the shopkeepers are dressed in authentic miners' outfits, or like cowboys or prostitutes, we are interested in the old gold and silver mines. There are lots of curio shops and saloons, in restored Victorian buildings. 10,000 buildings were destroyed by fire in 1876. The merchandise ranges from very expensive antiques to Made-in-China "chotchkes". There are slot machines everywhere.
Smoking is still allowed in many places out West and it seems that even where it is not allowed, the enforcement is not great. Today we are in a saloon in Virginia City called Bucket of Blood and the Comstock Cowboys are playing some really great music.
We are dancing away and all of a sudden these three people behind us light up, despite the No Smoking signs. Noone from the Saloon says anything, and these are tough-looking motorcycle folk. We are not about to cause a scene, so we just leave.
I have never seen so many motorcycles as I have out West, nor so many people with tattoos. Two women on a motorcycle wink at us. Are they winking at Bob, or at me?!
I see my first cheek-piercing today, too. OW!
Down the street at Bob's BBQ we are attracted by the smells, but the meal proves to be the worst we've had so far - hard pulled pork, stale and dry cornbread, tasteless coleslaw and the worst old and flat crumbly bun we've ever seen.
Bob is still looking for the perfect buttery yellow buckskin fringed jacket. He saw one years ago in Montana on our way back from Alaska, and passed it up because of the expense, but he's been kicking himself ever since.
Utah is the Beehive State, but we saw no beehives in two weeks of traveling across the entire state. Yet here we are in Nevada, and so far we have seen two farms with hundreds of beehives. We ask why and are told that the name "Beehive State" for Utah comes from the Mormon ethic of working "like busy little bees".
Our RV park has standards - only vehicles of certain brands and certain model years are admitted. Ours is one of the smallest and oldest. There is a really old RV here that appears to have a young working family living in it with 3 kids, ages about 2, 5 and 13. Maybe the Mom is a traveling nurse?
The 5 year old spends the entire hour while we are making dinner seeing how far she can throw her little plastic chair across the empty RV site next to theirs. She stomps after it, angry that she can't better her last effort, only to try again and again. A strong wind from an upcoming storm helps her cause.
There is a funny sign along the way at the Pawn Shop: Clearance Sale. That just strikes me as odd.
After much searching, I finally find a cowboy hat for my grandson Nathan. Garage Sale signs along the road have led us off into the desert to little back road with small houses and trailers. The hat is red, paper-based, and costs 50c!
On our visit to Virginia City, where many of the shopkeepers are dressed in authentic miners' outfits, or like cowboys or prostitutes, we are interested in the old gold and silver mines. There are lots of curio shops and saloons, in restored Victorian buildings. 10,000 buildings were destroyed by fire in 1876. The merchandise ranges from very expensive antiques to Made-in-China "chotchkes". There are slot machines everywhere.
Smoking is still allowed in many places out West and it seems that even where it is not allowed, the enforcement is not great. Today we are in a saloon in Virginia City called Bucket of Blood and the Comstock Cowboys are playing some really great music.
We are dancing away and all of a sudden these three people behind us light up, despite the No Smoking signs. Noone from the Saloon says anything, and these are tough-looking motorcycle folk. We are not about to cause a scene, so we just leave.
I have never seen so many motorcycles as I have out West, nor so many people with tattoos. Two women on a motorcycle wink at us. Are they winking at Bob, or at me?!
I see my first cheek-piercing today, too. OW!
Down the street at Bob's BBQ we are attracted by the smells, but the meal proves to be the worst we've had so far - hard pulled pork, stale and dry cornbread, tasteless coleslaw and the worst old and flat crumbly bun we've ever seen.
Bob is still looking for the perfect buttery yellow buckskin fringed jacket. He saw one years ago in Montana on our way back from Alaska, and passed it up because of the expense, but he's been kicking himself ever since.
Utah is the Beehive State, but we saw no beehives in two weeks of traveling across the entire state. Yet here we are in Nevada, and so far we have seen two farms with hundreds of beehives. We ask why and are told that the name "Beehive State" for Utah comes from the Mormon ethic of working "like busy little bees".
Our RV park has standards - only vehicles of certain brands and certain model years are admitted. Ours is one of the smallest and oldest. There is a really old RV here that appears to have a young working family living in it with 3 kids, ages about 2, 5 and 13. Maybe the Mom is a traveling nurse?
The 5 year old spends the entire hour while we are making dinner seeing how far she can throw her little plastic chair across the empty RV site next to theirs. She stomps after it, angry that she can't better her last effort, only to try again and again. A strong wind from an upcoming storm helps her cause.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Day 43 - Saturday, 8/1/09 - SETTLED
There is a big event happening at the local park - Hot August Nights. One part of it is an antique car show. We enjoy walking around sharing memories about the old cars we see.
Nearby is The Chocolate Nugget Candy Factory. On the lawn there are several antique farm implements, and a statue of The Old Prospector as big as the building. His hands were larger than his head.
Bob is musing: "I wonder if when they got drunk and they had ridden their horse to the saloon, they could just let the horse take them home. But then, the next day they'd have to tell their friends: 'I was arrested for RWI last night (riding while intoxicated)'. This is why Bob's son Jim is a stand-up comedian.
On the way home, we pass Steamboat Springs, a hot springs that has been in operation as a health facility since 1859. Back then they were on the railroad. Now they are on the Historical Register as a Day Spa. The water comes out hotter than 200 degrees. The owners have to cool off the baths. When we walk in, the proprietor says "Are you here for a soak?"
We see hundreds of houses built on the Geiger Grade on the way to Virginia City. It is quite steep. All have huge glass windows for the view, most with dirt roads and many with antique cars in their driveways. These are spectacular homes.
When we pass a bicyclist riding up this 6 degree grade at 6000 feet elevation, Bob comments: "He must be training for next year's Tour de France."
ROADKILL: Straw hat
In the evening we try ballroom dancing at Never Enough Ballroom Dance Studio in Reno. It appears that everyone else but us has taken lessons from this studio, so they all have very similar dance styles. It is a bit intimidating. We do manage a waltz, an East Coast swing, the foxtrot and a two-step.
Nearby is The Chocolate Nugget Candy Factory. On the lawn there are several antique farm implements, and a statue of The Old Prospector as big as the building. His hands were larger than his head.
Bob is musing: "I wonder if when they got drunk and they had ridden their horse to the saloon, they could just let the horse take them home. But then, the next day they'd have to tell their friends: 'I was arrested for RWI last night (riding while intoxicated)'. This is why Bob's son Jim is a stand-up comedian.
On the way home, we pass Steamboat Springs, a hot springs that has been in operation as a health facility since 1859. Back then they were on the railroad. Now they are on the Historical Register as a Day Spa. The water comes out hotter than 200 degrees. The owners have to cool off the baths. When we walk in, the proprietor says "Are you here for a soak?"
We see hundreds of houses built on the Geiger Grade on the way to Virginia City. It is quite steep. All have huge glass windows for the view, most with dirt roads and many with antique cars in their driveways. These are spectacular homes.
When we pass a bicyclist riding up this 6 degree grade at 6000 feet elevation, Bob comments: "He must be training for next year's Tour de France."
ROADKILL: Straw hat
In the evening we try ballroom dancing at Never Enough Ballroom Dance Studio in Reno. It appears that everyone else but us has taken lessons from this studio, so they all have very similar dance styles. It is a bit intimidating. We do manage a waltz, an East Coast swing, the foxtrot and a two-step.
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