DAY 4
Saints preserve us said Mrs. Gurvis!
We made it through the night at the Trails End RV Park, and hit the road early. We have only about 310 miles planned for our travels today. Tonight we would be staying at the Yosemite Pines RV, and make ready for our tour of Yosemite National Park the following day. This will be the highlight of the whole trip.
The drive down through Northern California was uneventful except for the scenery; it was magnificent. One item of special note was Mt. Shasta. By traveling down through Central Oregon on Hwy 97, you are treated to an entirely different view than you get from I-5. You have a closer approach and there are some stunning views of the mountain. There was one particular turnout that really had an outstanding view. We pulled into the viewpoint, parked the truck and I got out the camera. I framed the shot, braced myself against the truck, and whirrrr, click, ftzzz……..”Batteries need charging”. Oh well, I saw it and you can imagine just how amazing that shot would have been had I been able to take it.
Our final trial of the day was to be the approach to our campground. The book says there is a “steady 6-7% climb for over six miles”. Translated into real terms, this means you will be climbing up the side of a barn for the next hour and a half. I’ve never been up a hill this steep. It just went on and on and on. There was a sign about halfway up that says “Turn off air-conditioned to help prevent overheating”. Good advice, but I still see cars pulled over to the side with steam coming out of their hoods.
Despite this obstacle, the ol' Chevy Duramax Diesel made the climb with no trouble at all; thank goodness
We made it into the campground, parked and set up the rig, and even had had time to make the acquaintance of another RV’ing couple from Idaho Falls, Idaho.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Monday, October 19, 2009
DAY 3
Our next stop will be an interim point on our way to Yosemite National Park. Leaving Bend we drove through the Central Oregon High Desert. This desert is considerably different from our Sonoran desert that we have in Arizona. None the less it is a beautiful desert. We were driving through magnificent stands of juniper, pine and birch. The birch leaves once again provided us with a grand assortment of fall colors. The pale light green of its leaves were in staunch contrast to the darker green of the juniper and pine. There were also the more mature leaves of orange and yellow which added variety to the colors.
Oregon roads are among the better quality of roads we have traveled. This particular road, Highway 97, had recently been resurfaced so we had a nice smooth quite ride for the next hour or so. We were taking Hwy 97 instead of I-5, first of all so we could stop in at Bend and visit with our friend June; and secondly to follow the less traveled road. The repetition of traveling on I-5 all the time becomes a little tedious, and after all, this is The Year of Change.
Before we knew it we were at the border crossing going into California. We pulled into the check station and rolled down the window. A round little Mexican guard approached the truck and asked us if we were carrying any fruits or nuts. I paused for a moment, glanced over at Sharon, smiled, and then answered “No”. He then said “Have a nice day” and motioned us through. As we drove away we both could detect the pungent smell of baked pizza; his cooking lunch I suppose.
We continued on down the road, but the odor of the fresh baked pizza still lingered in the air and in our memories. We hadn’t stopped for lunch yet, and after all, it was ….pizzaaa. Well, we were out in the middle of nowhere now, so our appetites would just have to wait. But it wasn’t long before Sharon said “I can still smell the aroma of that pizza”. To prevent her from drooling all over the dogs, I rolled down the window, just a bit.
Before long we came to a long hill. Laboring up the hill we started to overtake a large truck carrying some of California’s fresh farm produce to market. Glancing over at the truck it was…..”Oh no; it’s a garlic truck”. Our visions of fresh baked pizza were dashed underneath the heady smell of garlic! There must have been four tons of garlic on that truck and we couldn’t even snag one little clove. We hurried on by and just shook our heads and laughed at each other. Where else but in California?
It was about 3:00 PM now and right on queue, Ms. Garmin instructed us to take the next exit to our selected campground for the night. Taking the exit and turning right again as instructed, we preceded the “nine-tenths of a mile to destination point on left” as instructed. We followed the narrow two lane road for the requested nine-tenths of a mile, but when she said “Turn left to destination point”, there was nothing there. There is also a map displayed on the Garmin so I could see that there would be a loop coming up soon where we could turn the rig around; in the mean time the road was getting narrower and going down, down, into the canyon by a series of switchbacks. As the turnoff arrived she said “Turn left”. Nice try, but the turn-around road was at an acute angle and too sharp for us to negotiate the turn. Preceding on down the road “Recalculating” was the only consolation we heard from the machine. Down, down, down we went, into the very depths of hell, followed by 12,000 pounds of 5th wheel trailer. “Curse you Garmin girl”!
Then, as I was ready to sink into despair and abandon myself to destruction – not to an imaginary ruin, but to the very power of this cursed road, there appeared before me a fork in the road. Not a large fork, but one with just enough room where I could go forward on one, then back up into the other, and by going forward very carefully I was able to turn around and retrace our steps. “Recalculating. Precede four-tenths of a mile to dest…” Click! “Take that you viper” I cried as I turned off the infernal device.
Finally we had retraced our route to an RV resort which we had seen on the way in; Trails End. Now here was a real RV park, with an easy access road to it. Turning onto the road we proceeded to the office in the direction indicated by the sign. Before we could go another twenty feet we found that the entrance had been blocked off with yellow caution tape and orange detour cones. I pulled the rig to an immediate stop, at which time I noticed a man running towards us frantically waving his arms. It turned out that three days ago they had had nineteen inches of rain in less than one and lone-half days and their road and a portion of their park had been washed out. Not to worry, we could take a back road and before we knew it we were snuggly resting in our home on wheels.
Once we got set up I went over to the office to pay for the nights stay. As I stepped up onto the office porch a toothless man with tattoos from wrist to elbow looked up from a table, grinned, and said hello. Three others looked up, grunted, gave a nod with their heads, and then went back to playing cards; a scruffy Pit bull managed a low growl.
When I returned to the RV Sharon expressed her feelings towards the day by showing me this unique shaped rock she had found while taking a walk with the dogs.
Our next stop will be an interim point on our way to Yosemite National Park. Leaving Bend we drove through the Central Oregon High Desert. This desert is considerably different from our Sonoran desert that we have in Arizona. None the less it is a beautiful desert. We were driving through magnificent stands of juniper, pine and birch. The birch leaves once again provided us with a grand assortment of fall colors. The pale light green of its leaves were in staunch contrast to the darker green of the juniper and pine. There were also the more mature leaves of orange and yellow which added variety to the colors.
Oregon roads are among the better quality of roads we have traveled. This particular road, Highway 97, had recently been resurfaced so we had a nice smooth quite ride for the next hour or so. We were taking Hwy 97 instead of I-5, first of all so we could stop in at Bend and visit with our friend June; and secondly to follow the less traveled road. The repetition of traveling on I-5 all the time becomes a little tedious, and after all, this is The Year of Change.
Before we knew it we were at the border crossing going into California. We pulled into the check station and rolled down the window. A round little Mexican guard approached the truck and asked us if we were carrying any fruits or nuts. I paused for a moment, glanced over at Sharon, smiled, and then answered “No”. He then said “Have a nice day” and motioned us through. As we drove away we both could detect the pungent smell of baked pizza; his cooking lunch I suppose.
We continued on down the road, but the odor of the fresh baked pizza still lingered in the air and in our memories. We hadn’t stopped for lunch yet, and after all, it was ….pizzaaa. Well, we were out in the middle of nowhere now, so our appetites would just have to wait. But it wasn’t long before Sharon said “I can still smell the aroma of that pizza”. To prevent her from drooling all over the dogs, I rolled down the window, just a bit.
Before long we came to a long hill. Laboring up the hill we started to overtake a large truck carrying some of California’s fresh farm produce to market. Glancing over at the truck it was…..”Oh no; it’s a garlic truck”. Our visions of fresh baked pizza were dashed underneath the heady smell of garlic! There must have been four tons of garlic on that truck and we couldn’t even snag one little clove. We hurried on by and just shook our heads and laughed at each other. Where else but in California?
It was about 3:00 PM now and right on queue, Ms. Garmin instructed us to take the next exit to our selected campground for the night. Taking the exit and turning right again as instructed, we preceded the “nine-tenths of a mile to destination point on left” as instructed. We followed the narrow two lane road for the requested nine-tenths of a mile, but when she said “Turn left to destination point”, there was nothing there. There is also a map displayed on the Garmin so I could see that there would be a loop coming up soon where we could turn the rig around; in the mean time the road was getting narrower and going down, down, into the canyon by a series of switchbacks. As the turnoff arrived she said “Turn left”. Nice try, but the turn-around road was at an acute angle and too sharp for us to negotiate the turn. Preceding on down the road “Recalculating” was the only consolation we heard from the machine. Down, down, down we went, into the very depths of hell, followed by 12,000 pounds of 5th wheel trailer. “Curse you Garmin girl”!
Then, as I was ready to sink into despair and abandon myself to destruction – not to an imaginary ruin, but to the very power of this cursed road, there appeared before me a fork in the road. Not a large fork, but one with just enough room where I could go forward on one, then back up into the other, and by going forward very carefully I was able to turn around and retrace our steps. “Recalculating. Precede four-tenths of a mile to dest…” Click! “Take that you viper” I cried as I turned off the infernal device.
Finally we had retraced our route to an RV resort which we had seen on the way in; Trails End. Now here was a real RV park, with an easy access road to it. Turning onto the road we proceeded to the office in the direction indicated by the sign. Before we could go another twenty feet we found that the entrance had been blocked off with yellow caution tape and orange detour cones. I pulled the rig to an immediate stop, at which time I noticed a man running towards us frantically waving his arms. It turned out that three days ago they had had nineteen inches of rain in less than one and lone-half days and their road and a portion of their park had been washed out. Not to worry, we could take a back road and before we knew it we were snuggly resting in our home on wheels.
Once we got set up I went over to the office to pay for the nights stay. As I stepped up onto the office porch a toothless man with tattoos from wrist to elbow looked up from a table, grinned, and said hello. Three others looked up, grunted, gave a nod with their heads, and then went back to playing cards; a scruffy Pit bull managed a low growl.
When I returned to the RV Sharon expressed her feelings towards the day by showing me this unique shaped rock she had found while taking a walk with the dogs.
Ah yes, the trials of travel. After a wonderful day, we were finally ready to turn in for the night; at the Bates Motel of RV parks.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
DAY 2
We camped the night at Sundance Meadows RV Park, in Bend, Oregon, right on the edge of a small three acre lake. The morning was cold and crisp, but the sky was clear and sunny so I took the dogs out for a brisk walk. As I walked up a small knoll in the park I was treated to a magnificent view of the Three Sisters Mountains, and off in the distance I could see Mt. Hood. We were going to stay here for the day so I had plenty of time of a leisure breakfast of fried potatoes and onions, and scrambled eggs.
Our Arizona friends Don and Virginia have a son that lives in the nearby town of Sisters, so we gave them a call to tell them what a beautiful day it was, and also find what their sons address was. Turns out that he didn’t know we were going to be in the area so it was a complete surprise for him. He worked at a nearby Toyota dealership so we dropped in and had a good chat with him, looked at a new Toyota, and then went on to check out the town.
Bend is a town of about 81,000 and is a hub for all kinds of sports, such as winter skiing, hiking, biking, rafting and a host of other activities. It is also a college town housing the Oregon State University. Our main destination here was to visit with our friend June who used to be our neighbor in Arizona but moved to Bend four years ago. She also met one of the locals and decided to marry him. Good choice.
We gave June a call to let her know we were in town. I had previously notified her that we would be in the area some time in October but there had been no definite time schedule. There was no answer to the call so we decided to drop by the house just in case she was out in the yard. As we approached the house it appeared as empty as a tomb; with no car in the driveway and the drapes pulled. We pulled into the driveway to knock on the door when Thom, her husband came bounding out the door. “I thought I recognized that truck” he said. After a warm greeting he told us that June was having lunch with one of her friends just about a block away.
We were up to a little lunch so we all hoped in the truck and drove over to the restaurant. When June saw us she jumped up and gave us all a great big hug, except for her husband of course. Good friendships just seem to get better and better. It had been a year since we had last seen June, but her warm greeting made us feel as though we lived just down the street from her. I think that is one of the real pluses of traveling; getting to renew old friendships. So often we have a good friend that moves away and slowly over the years the friendship just fades away into fond memories. I’m glad we got to visit with Thom and June. We are refreshed now and ready to continue on our trip home.
We camped the night at Sundance Meadows RV Park, in Bend, Oregon, right on the edge of a small three acre lake. The morning was cold and crisp, but the sky was clear and sunny so I took the dogs out for a brisk walk. As I walked up a small knoll in the park I was treated to a magnificent view of the Three Sisters Mountains, and off in the distance I could see Mt. Hood. We were going to stay here for the day so I had plenty of time of a leisure breakfast of fried potatoes and onions, and scrambled eggs.
Our Arizona friends Don and Virginia have a son that lives in the nearby town of Sisters, so we gave them a call to tell them what a beautiful day it was, and also find what their sons address was. Turns out that he didn’t know we were going to be in the area so it was a complete surprise for him. He worked at a nearby Toyota dealership so we dropped in and had a good chat with him, looked at a new Toyota, and then went on to check out the town.
Bend is a town of about 81,000 and is a hub for all kinds of sports, such as winter skiing, hiking, biking, rafting and a host of other activities. It is also a college town housing the Oregon State University. Our main destination here was to visit with our friend June who used to be our neighbor in Arizona but moved to Bend four years ago. She also met one of the locals and decided to marry him. Good choice.
We gave June a call to let her know we were in town. I had previously notified her that we would be in the area some time in October but there had been no definite time schedule. There was no answer to the call so we decided to drop by the house just in case she was out in the yard. As we approached the house it appeared as empty as a tomb; with no car in the driveway and the drapes pulled. We pulled into the driveway to knock on the door when Thom, her husband came bounding out the door. “I thought I recognized that truck” he said. After a warm greeting he told us that June was having lunch with one of her friends just about a block away.
We were up to a little lunch so we all hoped in the truck and drove over to the restaurant. When June saw us she jumped up and gave us all a great big hug, except for her husband of course. Good friendships just seem to get better and better. It had been a year since we had last seen June, but her warm greeting made us feel as though we lived just down the street from her. I think that is one of the real pluses of traveling; getting to renew old friendships. So often we have a good friend that moves away and slowly over the years the friendship just fades away into fond memories. I’m glad we got to visit with Thom and June. We are refreshed now and ready to continue on our trip home.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
2009 WA to AZ
DAY 1
We had a great summer this year, up here in the great Northwest. But now is the time of year when the leaves begin to turn from green into blankets of reds, yellows and different hues of orange. As we walk through the neighborhood some of the trees were even draped in white; white images of Casper the Ghost that is. Halloween is just a couple of weeks away, and people are getting ready for an onslaught of spooks and goblins. Me, I’m getting ready for our annual return to a warmer clime. The temps here in Gig Harbor have slid from a balmy 65 to 75 degree days to chilly, overcast and rainy 55 degree days. Now it’s not that I can’t take the cold; oh no, I’m used to cold weather, it can get down to 45, even 35 degrees back at our home in MountainBrook Village in Arizona. Sometimes you will even see a light dusting of snow high on the tops of the Superstition Mountain. But when I get up in the morning, I can pretty well count on it being a sunny day; now that’s something to look forward to.
For our trip back to Arizona this year I have decided to go down through central Oregon, stop in at our friend June’s place in Bend, then stop for a few days in Yosemite National Park, travel down through southeastern California to Death Valley, over to Lake Havasu, Arizona and the London Bridge, with the final leg being a straight shot to our home in Gold Canyon, Arizona.
Todays plan was to leave Gig Harbor, drive to Bend Oregon and spend a day visiting with our friend June. June had been our neighbor in MountainBrook Village before she moved to Bend and it would be great seeing her again, but two days before the epoch journey was to begin, Sharon informed me that she was coming down with a cold, the flue, or possibly something worse. There was no way she would be able to leave on the day planned. Discouraged, but not defeated I called and cancelled our campground reservations in Bend. The next day, our planned departure date, she asked me if we were all packed because she was now ready to go. “It’s 12:30 PM and it is 310 miles to Bend” I exclaimed! “We can make it” she said; so we left.
It may have been late in the day, but it was 54 degrees and raining. That was enough reason for me to get going, and surely the weather would moderate by the time we got to Oregon, so I called the campgrounds back and reinstated our reservations.
We have two Shiz-Tsu dogs that accompany us on all of our travels; Pippin, our seven year old, and Jasper, our 3 year old. They delight in going with us and are eager for any excuse to hop in the car or truck to go out for a jaunt. They had been watching us pack and were all too ready to hop into the truck. Pippin does have a bit trouble crossing over the Tacoma Narrows Bridge though. There are expansion joints installed at each end of the bridge. These are built just like a cattle crossing, and the tires make a “Brrrrupt” sound as you drive over them. This sound immediately sends Pippin scurrying to the floor, looking up at us with that “Why must I be subjected to this abuse” look, while Jasper takes it all in stride. This trip was no exception and The Pip took a dive down to the floor and stayed there for the next 300 miles. Jasper, on the other hand, made himself comfortable in his doggy seat which we have set up in the back seat.
Being mid-October, all along the highway we were treated to a wide array of fall colors, and even though it was raining, we would occasionally experience wonderful breaks of sunshine, which would make the maple trees along the sides of the road explode into brilliant bursts of color. The highway department has planted fir trees alongside the road to form a greenbelt but every so often they would stick in a deciduous tree such as a maple to provide a little color. With this greenbelt and the groves of maple along the hillsides there was no lack of color this year.
This would be a new route we were taking, going south on I-5 to Portland, then turning southwest on highway 20. This takes us through Gresham, Boring, yes there is such a town; Sandy, Rhododendron and Government Camp. All along the way we were traveling through nurseries of tree farms with all kinds of ornamental trees; maple, birch, Christmas trees and various types of shrubs and bushes. This area is one of the largest producers of Christmas trees in the nation.
Once we got into the mountains, we could see Mt. Hood, Oregon’s tallest mountain at11238 ft. looming off in the distance. It is almost a perfect cone in shape and very striking when you can see it. Today however, we could only see about one-third of the base; the rest was obscured by clouds. While there were still small amounts if drizzle coming down, the temperature was 54 degrees and no snow or ice, which was a blessing. There had been snow in these higher elevations just two weeks prior.
The rest of the trip was pretty much uneventful until we were within one-half hour from Bend. The time was 6:30 PM and the sun was beginning to set. The western sky was colored with clouds of orange red, fading into purple and magenta. This was the most beautiful sunset I had seen in a long while. Unfortunately once this display of color was finished, darkness was upon us and it is no fun trying to jockey a 5th wheel trailer into an unfamiliar campsite.
We travel using a Garmin GPS Navigation System. This is an invaluable tool when venturing into the unknown. It’s easy enough to take a wrong turn, but it can be a real nightmare trying to turn one of the big rigs around and get back on the right road. More than once this little device, with the kind gentle voice of its guidance system, has steered us clear of disaster and gently guided us on to a more safe and sane road. Tonight would be no different. The uncertainty of darkness and unfamiliar roads melt away as her gentle command instructs to “turn right in three-tenths of a mile”
And so it was. Through the darkness of night she guided us on until she uttered those comforting words “arriving at destination on right”. How cool is this? But wait! This wasn’t Sundance Meadows, it was some kind of a horse ranch. Not only that, but we had come into a driveway with very little room to turn around. We stopped the truck and I got out, taking my 1,000,000 Candle Power Rechargeable Spotlight which my son had given me for my birthday. I shined it down the driveway to an old barn and hen shined it back the other way towards the road. There seemed to be a small parking area where I thought I could turn around, but then what? I walked back to the road to check out the address; 60445, not the 60335 which it should have been. “Thank you very much Ms. Garmin” I scowled under my breath. Jumping back into the truck, I sent Sharon out behind the rig to guide me back, armed with the 1,000,000 candle power light and a walkie-talkie- device so she could communicate with me. It took about ten minutes, but I finally got the rig turned around and we headed off down the road to the 60335 address. Once we arrived we found a large sign which read “Sundance Meadows”. Easy to find once you have the right directions.
Turning into the drive, we proceeded about one-quarter mile along a narrow dirt road. I always get nervous in situations like this, but soon enough we arrived at the office. They had left me a note on the message board giving me the keypad numbers to the gate and instructions to take any spot in the campground. The night was pitch black with no moon, but as we approached the camping area I could see that some of the sights backed up to a small lake. Once again Sharon jumped out of the truck, armed with the light and walkie-talkie, and guided me back into the campsite. Well it was almost like that. In reality it took me over fifteen minutes to back that sucker in. In the darkness with no reference point I was trying to back in sideways, then crosswise until I finally managed to get close enough to the water and power outlets that my longer hoses and electrical cord would reach the connections. The sight was uneven and the rig was far from level, but it would have to do for tonight. Tired and frazzled I hooked everything up, opened up the sliders of the 5th wheel and we were ready to stay the night.
Before retiring I looked up into the night sky; it was magnificent. We were about ten miles from the town of Bend, and there was very little light pollution, so the stars stood out like sparkling diamonds. I found the Big Dipper and followed it’s pointing stars up to the North Star. From there I followed the handle down to the Little Dipper. Not far from there was Cassiopeia with the Queen of Ethiopia chained upside down in her heavenly chair. The Pleiades was low on the eastern horizon sparkling like a diamond broach, and in the ecliptic I could see the planet Jupiter. Wow! This was indeed the end to a perfect day.
We had a great summer this year, up here in the great Northwest. But now is the time of year when the leaves begin to turn from green into blankets of reds, yellows and different hues of orange. As we walk through the neighborhood some of the trees were even draped in white; white images of Casper the Ghost that is. Halloween is just a couple of weeks away, and people are getting ready for an onslaught of spooks and goblins. Me, I’m getting ready for our annual return to a warmer clime. The temps here in Gig Harbor have slid from a balmy 65 to 75 degree days to chilly, overcast and rainy 55 degree days. Now it’s not that I can’t take the cold; oh no, I’m used to cold weather, it can get down to 45, even 35 degrees back at our home in MountainBrook Village in Arizona. Sometimes you will even see a light dusting of snow high on the tops of the Superstition Mountain. But when I get up in the morning, I can pretty well count on it being a sunny day; now that’s something to look forward to.
For our trip back to Arizona this year I have decided to go down through central Oregon, stop in at our friend June’s place in Bend, then stop for a few days in Yosemite National Park, travel down through southeastern California to Death Valley, over to Lake Havasu, Arizona and the London Bridge, with the final leg being a straight shot to our home in Gold Canyon, Arizona.
Todays plan was to leave Gig Harbor, drive to Bend Oregon and spend a day visiting with our friend June. June had been our neighbor in MountainBrook Village before she moved to Bend and it would be great seeing her again, but two days before the epoch journey was to begin, Sharon informed me that she was coming down with a cold, the flue, or possibly something worse. There was no way she would be able to leave on the day planned. Discouraged, but not defeated I called and cancelled our campground reservations in Bend. The next day, our planned departure date, she asked me if we were all packed because she was now ready to go. “It’s 12:30 PM and it is 310 miles to Bend” I exclaimed! “We can make it” she said; so we left.
It may have been late in the day, but it was 54 degrees and raining. That was enough reason for me to get going, and surely the weather would moderate by the time we got to Oregon, so I called the campgrounds back and reinstated our reservations.
We have two Shiz-Tsu dogs that accompany us on all of our travels; Pippin, our seven year old, and Jasper, our 3 year old. They delight in going with us and are eager for any excuse to hop in the car or truck to go out for a jaunt. They had been watching us pack and were all too ready to hop into the truck. Pippin does have a bit trouble crossing over the Tacoma Narrows Bridge though. There are expansion joints installed at each end of the bridge. These are built just like a cattle crossing, and the tires make a “Brrrrupt” sound as you drive over them. This sound immediately sends Pippin scurrying to the floor, looking up at us with that “Why must I be subjected to this abuse” look, while Jasper takes it all in stride. This trip was no exception and The Pip took a dive down to the floor and stayed there for the next 300 miles. Jasper, on the other hand, made himself comfortable in his doggy seat which we have set up in the back seat.
Being mid-October, all along the highway we were treated to a wide array of fall colors, and even though it was raining, we would occasionally experience wonderful breaks of sunshine, which would make the maple trees along the sides of the road explode into brilliant bursts of color. The highway department has planted fir trees alongside the road to form a greenbelt but every so often they would stick in a deciduous tree such as a maple to provide a little color. With this greenbelt and the groves of maple along the hillsides there was no lack of color this year.
This would be a new route we were taking, going south on I-5 to Portland, then turning southwest on highway 20. This takes us through Gresham, Boring, yes there is such a town; Sandy, Rhododendron and Government Camp. All along the way we were traveling through nurseries of tree farms with all kinds of ornamental trees; maple, birch, Christmas trees and various types of shrubs and bushes. This area is one of the largest producers of Christmas trees in the nation.
Once we got into the mountains, we could see Mt. Hood, Oregon’s tallest mountain at11238 ft. looming off in the distance. It is almost a perfect cone in shape and very striking when you can see it. Today however, we could only see about one-third of the base; the rest was obscured by clouds. While there were still small amounts if drizzle coming down, the temperature was 54 degrees and no snow or ice, which was a blessing. There had been snow in these higher elevations just two weeks prior.
The rest of the trip was pretty much uneventful until we were within one-half hour from Bend. The time was 6:30 PM and the sun was beginning to set. The western sky was colored with clouds of orange red, fading into purple and magenta. This was the most beautiful sunset I had seen in a long while. Unfortunately once this display of color was finished, darkness was upon us and it is no fun trying to jockey a 5th wheel trailer into an unfamiliar campsite.
We travel using a Garmin GPS Navigation System. This is an invaluable tool when venturing into the unknown. It’s easy enough to take a wrong turn, but it can be a real nightmare trying to turn one of the big rigs around and get back on the right road. More than once this little device, with the kind gentle voice of its guidance system, has steered us clear of disaster and gently guided us on to a more safe and sane road. Tonight would be no different. The uncertainty of darkness and unfamiliar roads melt away as her gentle command instructs to “turn right in three-tenths of a mile”
And so it was. Through the darkness of night she guided us on until she uttered those comforting words “arriving at destination on right”. How cool is this? But wait! This wasn’t Sundance Meadows, it was some kind of a horse ranch. Not only that, but we had come into a driveway with very little room to turn around. We stopped the truck and I got out, taking my 1,000,000 Candle Power Rechargeable Spotlight which my son had given me for my birthday. I shined it down the driveway to an old barn and hen shined it back the other way towards the road. There seemed to be a small parking area where I thought I could turn around, but then what? I walked back to the road to check out the address; 60445, not the 60335 which it should have been. “Thank you very much Ms. Garmin” I scowled under my breath. Jumping back into the truck, I sent Sharon out behind the rig to guide me back, armed with the 1,000,000 candle power light and a walkie-talkie- device so she could communicate with me. It took about ten minutes, but I finally got the rig turned around and we headed off down the road to the 60335 address. Once we arrived we found a large sign which read “Sundance Meadows”. Easy to find once you have the right directions.
Turning into the drive, we proceeded about one-quarter mile along a narrow dirt road. I always get nervous in situations like this, but soon enough we arrived at the office. They had left me a note on the message board giving me the keypad numbers to the gate and instructions to take any spot in the campground. The night was pitch black with no moon, but as we approached the camping area I could see that some of the sights backed up to a small lake. Once again Sharon jumped out of the truck, armed with the light and walkie-talkie, and guided me back into the campsite. Well it was almost like that. In reality it took me over fifteen minutes to back that sucker in. In the darkness with no reference point I was trying to back in sideways, then crosswise until I finally managed to get close enough to the water and power outlets that my longer hoses and electrical cord would reach the connections. The sight was uneven and the rig was far from level, but it would have to do for tonight. Tired and frazzled I hooked everything up, opened up the sliders of the 5th wheel and we were ready to stay the night.
Before retiring I looked up into the night sky; it was magnificent. We were about ten miles from the town of Bend, and there was very little light pollution, so the stars stood out like sparkling diamonds. I found the Big Dipper and followed it’s pointing stars up to the North Star. From there I followed the handle down to the Little Dipper. Not far from there was Cassiopeia with the Queen of Ethiopia chained upside down in her heavenly chair. The Pleiades was low on the eastern horizon sparkling like a diamond broach, and in the ecliptic I could see the planet Jupiter. Wow! This was indeed the end to a perfect day.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Vacation, Staycation or Daycation
Vacation, Staycation, Daycation; what’s it going to be?
Getting out and around is getting so complicated anymore that it’s a wonder anyone dares to venture out at all. We used to go on a cruise, fly down to see the family in Salt Lake City, or just take a road trip to some near, or far, point of interest. But those who make up the rules are trying to coin a new group of phrases; vacation, staycation or daycation , so that we can be more compatible with our sinking economy.
Take the old family car; please. When I was younger, my first car only cost $20.00, plus the price of a new clutch, which I put in myself. Now that was back in the 50’s mind you, but none the less it was paid for and it was my pride and joy. If, at that time, anyone had called it a klunker they would have had a greasy rag thrown in their face. Not anymore, it is now your patriotic duty to define your older car as a klunker and then turn it in for a new one. You may even get paid for doing so.
You can imagine my consternation when we decided to take a day off and see some of the surrounding area. I couldn’t call it a vacation; since I am retired and everyday is already a vacation. I was thinking of taking a staycation; but how do you really define a staycation? After much thought and deliberation we decided to take a daycation. I figured that if we could get it all done in just one day, then that would fulfill the requirements of the word.
Our first thought was to head north; up to the Hood Canal area and rummage through some of the small towns and points of interest. Working out a time table, we found it would take most of the day, just driving, sightseeing, and eating. That’s a lot of driving just to visit a place we have already been to. Next plan was to visit some of the nearby places which the local newspaper had highlighted as points if interest. Now, this was an idea more to my liking. We could keep the total driving time to less than two hours; visit some local buildings that I had heard about, but never taken the time to visit; and finally we would be in familiar territory when it came to choosing a place to eat. It is all too often that you take unnecessary risks when choosing unfamiliar eating establishments.
Tacoma was to be the city of choice; it was within a half-hour driving time for both Sharon and I, located in Gig Harbor, and our friends Darrell and Norma from Federal Way. We would meet at Freighthouse Square in Tacoma; a collection of art, knickknacks and food. Its central location and easy access would make it a good starting place for our Tacoma daycation.
As you drive south on I-5 through Tacoma, you can see a beautiful church on the right hand side shortly after you pass the Tacoma Dome. Every time we pass by I think of how great it would be to stop in and see it. So today we did. The church is the Holy Rosary Church. It is 89 years old and reportedly the tallest church in the state. It was built with the neo-gothic styling; arches and pointy spires, ……you’ll know it when you see it. They say that the stain glass windows include copies of windows found in the Notre Dame De Paris. Unfortunately we could not get in to see them; which was a shame as it would have saved me a trip to Paris.
The church is near to downtown Tacoma so we decided to pay a visit
to the old Union Station train depot. This building was built in 1929 and saw a lot of action during WWII, (the big one) in transporting our troops, and also transporting much of the Japanese population to the internment camps! Much of it’s history can been seen at the Washington State History Museum which is just next door. The building has been remodeled into government buildings as part of a revitalization project of downtown Tacoma. It is currently undergoing some renovating, so we did not go in; rather we went next door to the Washington State History Museum. The museum was built to resemble the old Union Station train depot and was opened to the public in 1996. The museum houses a few permanent displays and 
an assortment of changing displays. Especially interesting was an artist’s photography exhibit of the Ho River located in Washington’s rain forest area of the Olympic Peninsula. I think I enjoyed the model train exhibit the most though. I had model trains when I was a kid and have enjoyed them ever since. This exhibit was first class. There were several trains with the tracks running from Tacoma's Point Defiance Park on to the Stampede Pass tunnel in the Cascades. Steam and diesel engines travel past the ASARCO tunnel and tower, the Sperry Flour Mill & Sperry 
Ocean Terminal, the Seybold-Miller shake mill, and of course, the museums next door neighbor, Union Station.
After spending a couple of hours at the museum we were starting to get a mild case of the hungries. Leaving the museum we could look just across the street to the Museum of Glass. We had visited the MOG two years ago and decided to bypass it in favor of some good food. The museum is certainly a must see on your
Daycation tour of Tacoma though, with its glass blowing demonstrations and wonderful gift shop.
The highlight of our tour of course could have to be Bob’s Java Jive; built in 1929 it is an excellent example of the deco-art buildings of that era. Seems as though I was the only one impressed with the building though, so we continued on to Freighthouse Square for lunch.
Freighthouse Square is one of my favorite places to eat out. It’s not in the main throng of the downtown area, so it has easy access. There are a dozen or more eateries; Gyros, fish and chips, bubble tea, lumpia, fried chicken, bulgogi, curry chicken, burritos, Chicago style hot dogs and scratch baked cookies. Imagine, you can easily spend your lunch hour just figuring what it is you want to eat. One of my favorite is the Paya Thai Fish & Chips. Owner Tom Pagano is always right out in front of his booth describing his catch of the day. You order, and he brings it right out to your table; fish & chips, Southern fried chicken and garlic shrimp; that was our fare for the day.
What a way to end our perfect Daycation. We satisfied the government’s plea to spend our money close to home, we saved gas (40 mpg in the yellow Beetle), we became more closely acquainted with some of the great architecture of Tacoma, and we had a great meal.
Great friends, great times, great food!
Getting out and around is getting so complicated anymore that it’s a wonder anyone dares to venture out at all. We used to go on a cruise, fly down to see the family in Salt Lake City, or just take a road trip to some near, or far, point of interest. But those who make up the rules are trying to coin a new group of phrases; vacation, staycation or daycation , so that we can be more compatible with our sinking economy.
Take the old family car; please. When I was younger, my first car only cost $20.00, plus the price of a new clutch, which I put in myself. Now that was back in the 50’s mind you, but none the less it was paid for and it was my pride and joy. If, at that time, anyone had called it a klunker they would have had a greasy rag thrown in their face. Not anymore, it is now your patriotic duty to define your older car as a klunker and then turn it in for a new one. You may even get paid for doing so.
You can imagine my consternation when we decided to take a day off and see some of the surrounding area. I couldn’t call it a vacation; since I am retired and everyday is already a vacation. I was thinking of taking a staycation; but how do you really define a staycation? After much thought and deliberation we decided to take a daycation. I figured that if we could get it all done in just one day, then that would fulfill the requirements of the word.
Our first thought was to head north; up to the Hood Canal area and rummage through some of the small towns and points of interest. Working out a time table, we found it would take most of the day, just driving, sightseeing, and eating. That’s a lot of driving just to visit a place we have already been to. Next plan was to visit some of the nearby places which the local newspaper had highlighted as points if interest. Now, this was an idea more to my liking. We could keep the total driving time to less than two hours; visit some local buildings that I had heard about, but never taken the time to visit; and finally we would be in familiar territory when it came to choosing a place to eat. It is all too often that you take unnecessary risks when choosing unfamiliar eating establishments.
Tacoma was to be the city of choice; it was within a half-hour driving time for both Sharon and I, located in Gig Harbor, and our friends Darrell and Norma from Federal Way. We would meet at Freighthouse Square in Tacoma; a collection of art, knickknacks and food. Its central location and easy access would make it a good starting place for our Tacoma daycation.
As you drive south on I-5 through Tacoma, you can see a beautiful church on the right hand side shortly after you pass the Tacoma Dome. Every time we pass by I think of how great it would be to stop in and see it. So today we did. The church is the Holy Rosary Church. It is 89 years old and reportedly the tallest church in the state. It was built with the neo-gothic styling; arches and pointy spires, ……you’ll know it when you see it. They say that the stain glass windows include copies of windows found in the Notre Dame De Paris. Unfortunately we could not get in to see them; which was a shame as it would have saved me a trip to Paris.
The church is near to downtown Tacoma so we decided to pay a visit
to the old Union Station train depot. This building was built in 1929 and saw a lot of action during WWII, (the big one) in transporting our troops, and also transporting much of the Japanese population to the internment camps! Much of it’s history can been seen at the Washington State History Museum which is just next door. The building has been remodeled into government buildings as part of a revitalization project of downtown Tacoma. It is currently undergoing some renovating, so we did not go in; rather we went next door to the Washington State History Museum. The museum was built to resemble the old Union Station train depot and was opened to the public in 1996. The museum houses a few permanent displays and 
an assortment of changing displays. Especially interesting was an artist’s photography exhibit of the Ho River located in Washington’s rain forest area of the Olympic Peninsula. I think I enjoyed the model train exhibit the most though. I had model trains when I was a kid and have enjoyed them ever since. This exhibit was first class. There were several trains with the tracks running from Tacoma's Point Defiance Park on to the Stampede Pass tunnel in the Cascades. Steam and diesel engines travel past the ASARCO tunnel and tower, the Sperry Flour Mill & Sperry 
Ocean Terminal, the Seybold-Miller shake mill, and of course, the museums next door neighbor, Union Station.After spending a couple of hours at the museum we were starting to get a mild case of the hungries. Leaving the museum we could look just across the street to the Museum of Glass. We had visited the MOG two years ago and decided to bypass it in favor of some good food. The museum is certainly a must see on your
Daycation tour of Tacoma though, with its glass blowing demonstrations and wonderful gift shop.
The highlight of our tour of course could have to be Bob’s Java Jive; built in 1929 it is an excellent example of the deco-art buildings of that era. Seems as though I was the only one impressed with the building though, so we continued on to Freighthouse Square for lunch.
Freighthouse Square is one of my favorite places to eat out. It’s not in the main throng of the downtown area, so it has easy access. There are a dozen or more eateries; Gyros, fish and chips, bubble tea, lumpia, fried chicken, bulgogi, curry chicken, burritos, Chicago style hot dogs and scratch baked cookies. Imagine, you can easily spend your lunch hour just figuring what it is you want to eat. One of my favorite is the Paya Thai Fish & Chips. Owner Tom Pagano is always right out in front of his booth describing his catch of the day. You order, and he brings it right out to your table; fish & chips, Southern fried chicken and garlic shrimp; that was our fare for the day.
What a way to end our perfect Daycation. We satisfied the government’s plea to spend our money close to home, we saved gas (40 mpg in the yellow Beetle), we became more closely acquainted with some of the great architecture of Tacoma, and we had a great meal.
Great friends, great times, great food!
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Greekfest 2009
Friday, Oct 2
There have been many books and brochures written describing the glorious wonders of our nation, state, city and world. Cruises, flights, trains, automobiles, all whisking you off to some exotic destination. 1,000 Places To See Before You Die comes to mind as a volume of descriptions and destinations designed to entice you out of the comfort of your home and into a near or distant attractions of our wonderful world. In the introduction of the book we read “she had sailed up Papua New Guinea’s Sepik River and camped out in the Szhara Desert with Bedouin guides”. Now that sounds great, but not very realistic. I would like to tell you of one of my more recent adventures which is within the reach of most anyone near an even modestly large metropolis.
Life is not measured by the number of breath we take but by the places and moments that take our breath away.
-ANONYMOUS
Our friends, Chris and Linnea, or as Chris says “That crazy cousin-in-law”, had told us of the annual Greek festival which would be held over the weekend. We had been to a Greek festival up in the university district those many years ago. Greek food, dancing, beverages and merriment; the memories slowly returned of a good night of entertainment, so we said “Yes, of course we’ll go”!
Friday night we all piled into the yellow Beetle and headed off to the St. Nicholas Greek Orthodox Church in Tacoma. As we approached the area of the church there were blocks and blocks of cars parked so close that even the Beetle would not be able to squeeze in, and there was also a constant stream of people heading the same direction which we were driving. This had the makings of a wonderful evening.
We parked the car and began to walk towards the church. Pungent aromas of grilled lamb filled the air, with the din of Greek music playing to the approval of a delighted crowd. We entered into a large tent; no admission required, no religious affiliation necessary, just a desire to partake and enjoy. That was our mission so enjoy we did. The tent was half the size of a football field. The sides were lined with booths hawking all types of Greek food, beverages, deli items and even a pastry bar. In the center was a small stage where a dozen Greek Folk Dancers, outfitted in traditional costumes, dancing their traditional dances; the tsamiko, syrtos and kalamatianos.
First off we decided that we should get something to eat. The lines at the food booths were long and the tables were crowded. The method of payment was with a token, which could be purchased for one dollar each so I bought twenty dollars worth of tokens. Over the years they had offered different styles of tokens, and now they were all combined together, so I had a brass token about the size of a quarter; a blue square token and a larger red square token. Not meant to confuse, but to heighten the experience.
The first booth on our epicurean tour would be the Gyros. A Gyros (pronounced year-os) consists of a spicy and savory pressed meat served with tomatoes, onions and Tsaziki Sauce on warm Greek Pita Bread. It was the pungent smell of this meat cooking that we could smell as we had approached the building. Because of the individual types of food being sold at separate booths we decided to split up and each one of us pick up a portion of our meal. Linnea took the Gyros line while I headed for the Calamari line. Sharon and Chris went into the main banquet hall to purchase a full dinner of Kotopoulo Riganato or a full half-chicken baked Greek style, with Salata (Greek Salad) , Fassoloia Yahni (braised string beans), rice pilaf and bread.
Linnea was first to win the prize as she returned with two fresh Gyros clutched in her tiny little hands. She then joined me in the Calamari line. While waiting in line we munched on our Gyros and began to make new friends. There was a fun atmosphere everywhere you turned, so we just made the best of it. As we approached the Calamari booth Linnea reached into her bag of tokens to get the required payment, when the entire bag spilled out onto the floor. In a shoulder to shoulder atmosphere we figured that all was lost, but one by one each token was returned, one by a big toothy man standing in line just in front of us. Others were returned by people standing close by in other lines, while two of them were returned by an anonymous arm protruding from the throng. Despite our concern, not one token was lost.
We were within reach of one of those wonderful baskets of calamari when the line suddenly stopped. They had run out of French fries and we would have to wait until the next batch had finished cooking before they would fill any other orders. Not to worry, that just gave us all more time to talk to the vendor, those around us, or just to take in the energy of the occasion.
After the calamari we went into the main dining room for the chicken dinner. While waiting to be served we managed to down a serving of Dolmathes (grape leaves stuffed with ground beef and rice) and some Tyropitakia (a warm flakey cheese pie).
The whole evening was a pure delight of new smells, tastes, and sensations.
After we had thoroughly stuffed ourselves, we settled down for the entertainment; Greek dancing! There were about fifteen dancers all in a line, arm to shoulder in the traditional style. The music was loud, the dancers were great and the crowd was very appreciative. The dancers jumped, whirled, slapped their feet and kicked their legs high into the air. One even balanced a glass of Ouzo on his head, awesome. I suppose that all that Greek Mythos beer that had been consumed had a lot to do with it. Not by me of course, but that had no impact on the other revelers.
All in all it was a great evening, something different; the culture, the dance and the food. As we headed home we were talking about what a great time we had and what could be next on the agenda. Then Chris came up with a great suggestion, “You know the Shelton Oyster Fest is being held this weekend”.
Friday, Oct 2
There have been many books and brochures written describing the glorious wonders of our nation, state, city and world. Cruises, flights, trains, automobiles, all whisking you off to some exotic destination. 1,000 Places To See Before You Die comes to mind as a volume of descriptions and destinations designed to entice you out of the comfort of your home and into a near or distant attractions of our wonderful world. In the introduction of the book we read “she had sailed up Papua New Guinea’s Sepik River and camped out in the Szhara Desert with Bedouin guides”. Now that sounds great, but not very realistic. I would like to tell you of one of my more recent adventures which is within the reach of most anyone near an even modestly large metropolis.
Life is not measured by the number of breath we take but by the places and moments that take our breath away.
-ANONYMOUS
Our friends, Chris and Linnea, or as Chris says “That crazy cousin-in-law”, had told us of the annual Greek festival which would be held over the weekend. We had been to a Greek festival up in the university district those many years ago. Greek food, dancing, beverages and merriment; the memories slowly returned of a good night of entertainment, so we said “Yes, of course we’ll go”!
Friday night we all piled into the yellow Beetle and headed off to the St. Nicholas Greek Orthodox Church in Tacoma. As we approached the area of the church there were blocks and blocks of cars parked so close that even the Beetle would not be able to squeeze in, and there was also a constant stream of people heading the same direction which we were driving. This had the makings of a wonderful evening.
We parked the car and began to walk towards the church. Pungent aromas of grilled lamb filled the air, with the din of Greek music playing to the approval of a delighted crowd. We entered into a large tent; no admission required, no religious affiliation necessary, just a desire to partake and enjoy. That was our mission so enjoy we did. The tent was half the size of a football field. The sides were lined with booths hawking all types of Greek food, beverages, deli items and even a pastry bar. In the center was a small stage where a dozen Greek Folk Dancers, outfitted in traditional costumes, dancing their traditional dances; the tsamiko, syrtos and kalamatianos.
First off we decided that we should get something to eat. The lines at the food booths were long and the tables were crowded. The method of payment was with a token, which could be purchased for one dollar each so I bought twenty dollars worth of tokens. Over the years they had offered different styles of tokens, and now they were all combined together, so I had a brass token about the size of a quarter; a blue square token and a larger red square token. Not meant to confuse, but to heighten the experience.
The first booth on our epicurean tour would be the Gyros. A Gyros (pronounced year-os) consists of a spicy and savory pressed meat served with tomatoes, onions and Tsaziki Sauce on warm Greek Pita Bread. It was the pungent smell of this meat cooking that we could smell as we had approached the building. Because of the individual types of food being sold at separate booths we decided to split up and each one of us pick up a portion of our meal. Linnea took the Gyros line while I headed for the Calamari line. Sharon and Chris went into the main banquet hall to purchase a full dinner of Kotopoulo Riganato or a full half-chicken baked Greek style, with Salata (Greek Salad) , Fassoloia Yahni (braised string beans), rice pilaf and bread.
Linnea was first to win the prize as she returned with two fresh Gyros clutched in her tiny little hands. She then joined me in the Calamari line. While waiting in line we munched on our Gyros and began to make new friends. There was a fun atmosphere everywhere you turned, so we just made the best of it. As we approached the Calamari booth Linnea reached into her bag of tokens to get the required payment, when the entire bag spilled out onto the floor. In a shoulder to shoulder atmosphere we figured that all was lost, but one by one each token was returned, one by a big toothy man standing in line just in front of us. Others were returned by people standing close by in other lines, while two of them were returned by an anonymous arm protruding from the throng. Despite our concern, not one token was lost.
We were within reach of one of those wonderful baskets of calamari when the line suddenly stopped. They had run out of French fries and we would have to wait until the next batch had finished cooking before they would fill any other orders. Not to worry, that just gave us all more time to talk to the vendor, those around us, or just to take in the energy of the occasion.
After the calamari we went into the main dining room for the chicken dinner. While waiting to be served we managed to down a serving of Dolmathes (grape leaves stuffed with ground beef and rice) and some Tyropitakia (a warm flakey cheese pie).
The whole evening was a pure delight of new smells, tastes, and sensations.
After we had thoroughly stuffed ourselves, we settled down for the entertainment; Greek dancing! There were about fifteen dancers all in a line, arm to shoulder in the traditional style. The music was loud, the dancers were great and the crowd was very appreciative. The dancers jumped, whirled, slapped their feet and kicked their legs high into the air. One even balanced a glass of Ouzo on his head, awesome. I suppose that all that Greek Mythos beer that had been consumed had a lot to do with it. Not by me of course, but that had no impact on the other revelers.
All in all it was a great evening, something different; the culture, the dance and the food. As we headed home we were talking about what a great time we had and what could be next on the agenda. Then Chris came up with a great suggestion, “You know the Shelton Oyster Fest is being held this weekend”.
Oyster Burgers……..Mmmmmmm.
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