September 22, 2009 – San Juan Bautista, CA
A grueling day; six hours of nearly nonstop dueling with slow, windey mountain roads, insane drivers in Marin County, ugly traffic in Oakland and San Jose, and a misbegotten rest stop in Berkeley, of all places.
We got off to a nice start, around ten, from Benbow, heading south through tourist attractions like Confusion Hill that we have yet to visit, making our way mostly down the “Old Road” 101, because there is no “New Road” 101 yet. This is the same highway that Don used to travel on his way to Oregon in the summers of 1945 and beyond. There is, for sure, great beauty in the scenery, but it isn’t what we call “Big Rig Friendly”. Slow going. The road flattened out around Ukiah, but it still wasn’t very fast. I felt the need to monitor our progress most of the way, and I was very upset with some of the ill-mannered drivers that Don had to put up with. I could drive better than some of them! The people in Marin County were particularly bad, cutting into our lane so close in front of use that we had to brake really hard to avoid running over them. Don won’t drive the rig through San Francisco, ‘cause he knows it too well, so we avoided it by driving over the Richmond-San Rafael Bridge to catch highway 80 down to the 880 south. He’d been driving for over four hours, and felt the need to stop and walk around a little bit, so he pulled off on a turnoff in Berkeley. Bad luck; there was no place there to pull over and stop. We wound up heading into downtown Berkeley, traipsing down San Pablo Avenue past all the BBQ joints until we could head back toward the freeway, where we found a pullout suitable for some walking around. I got out with the rest of the group, but refused to anoint this city with my leavings. When Don got his circulation back, we got aboard and headed south again.
Almost two hours later, we pulled into one of our favorite places, Betabel RV Park in San Juan Bautista. They are very dog-friendly here, and provide a very nice treat for their incoming canine guests. They provided me with a set of rules for People Owners, asking that I keep them on a leash and take them to designated walk areas, and that I insist that they take me inside the RV with them at night. Geri took me for a nice walk, and I saw a big herd of deer that got my interest; but not so interested that I wanted to get too close to them. There are lots of friendly people here, and we met some that have a Goldie who is even bigger than I am! A very friendly guy, of course. We got along well.
This is the last night of this adventure, and we will be pulling into our driveway tomorrow afternoon. I’ll be anxious to meet up with my old friends, particularly Alice and Cooper, two of the nicest Aussies I’ve ever met. I’ll be happy to go walking in my usual haunts, where I feel comfortable and safe enough to leave Don way behind me until he yells at me to wait for him. I’ll enjoy going out in the morning and retrieving a real newspaper, instead of a phony one. And I will love getting back into my old routine of walking, eating, napping, and playing. I love travelling, but I really like getting home again. I think Geri and Don feel the same way!
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Monday, September 21, 2009
September 21, 2009 – Benbow, CA
Notice the location? Do we have a winner in the “Where are we?” battle? Looks like it. Like I said, I don’t care, I like it here; just wish it wasn’t quite so hot in the afternoon. I have to tell you about the morning walk that Don and I took. As he frequently does, he let me choose where we went, with only occasional direction to keep me out of real trouble. After noodling about the RV Park, I decided to follow a road up a hill next to the doggy amusement area; it led to a big storage area where equipment and building materials were stored, which I investigated thoroughly. I heard some quail taunting me with their chuckling, so I had to charge them and send them flying. Then Don pointed out to me a path that led down a steep hill back toward the RV Park, and I ran past him, hurtling down the path. At the bottom of the hill was a patch of the prettiest grass I had seen all during the trip; I noticed that there was a spindly flag pole in the middle of it, planted in a hole in the grass, but that meant nothing to me. I hit the grass and broke into a fabulous display of crazy dog running, turning, twisting, feinting, cutting, all at breakneck speed. Don was still making his way down the hill, yelling at me. I stopped to try to hear what he was saying, and noticed a group of humans off in the distance who were standing next to a electric cart and watching me with more than curiosity. Well, I knew that they wanted some more crazy dog show, so I indulged them with some more superlative running. Don finally got down the hill and ordered me to follow him, while he lectured me on not disturbing golfers when they were trying to chip onto the green. I had no idea what he was talking about. I thought it was a very good walk.
When Geri was ready to go, we got in the truck and headed north until we got to the end of the Avenue of the Giants, just short of Scotia. We got off the 101 and turned south to immerse ourselves in redwoods. We stopped to get another look at a tree that had survived lightning, lumberjacks, and other problems, and still stood tall. We met some Texans with an irrepressible Pommie, who was jumping up the back of the truck to try to meet me properly. I think she liked me. We continued down to the Founder’s Grove, only to find out that dogs were not allowed on the trail. Tough Luck, I was told, as Geri and Don wandered off to see the trees. They were only gone for a little while, and I had a good nap while waiting for them. They told me about a giant tree that had fallen down during a storm, and that it was a lot taller than they were even while laying on the ground. We met another family who had a really cute Schnauzer, who had a lot to say until she was picked up by her human and properly introduced to me, face to face. She got really quiet. We stopped at some other places where I could walk the trails, but I thought it was safer to stay close to Don during these walks, as I didn’t know what the dangers were in this environment. We stopped for lunch at a little restaurant that had a big redwood stump in back of it that had been hollowed out to make a shelter, or house. I inspected it, and found it barely adequate to serve as a dog house. But the trees were beautiful and huge, the shade they provided was cool and welcome, and it was quite an enjoyable afternoon. Don says that I have to mention that we went to a grove of trees that was preserved by the California Women’s Clubs Federation, that featured a monument that was designed by Julia Morgan, one of his favorite architects. He says that she did the Hearst Castle job on the central California coast. OK, whatever.
When we got home, Geri fixed up some BLT sandwiches, which don’t leave much for me, but I got some leftover salmon anyway. Not a bad deal. We went to bed fairly early, as we have a big travel day tomorrow. Talk to you then!
Notice the location? Do we have a winner in the “Where are we?” battle? Looks like it. Like I said, I don’t care, I like it here; just wish it wasn’t quite so hot in the afternoon. I have to tell you about the morning walk that Don and I took. As he frequently does, he let me choose where we went, with only occasional direction to keep me out of real trouble. After noodling about the RV Park, I decided to follow a road up a hill next to the doggy amusement area; it led to a big storage area where equipment and building materials were stored, which I investigated thoroughly. I heard some quail taunting me with their chuckling, so I had to charge them and send them flying. Then Don pointed out to me a path that led down a steep hill back toward the RV Park, and I ran past him, hurtling down the path. At the bottom of the hill was a patch of the prettiest grass I had seen all during the trip; I noticed that there was a spindly flag pole in the middle of it, planted in a hole in the grass, but that meant nothing to me. I hit the grass and broke into a fabulous display of crazy dog running, turning, twisting, feinting, cutting, all at breakneck speed. Don was still making his way down the hill, yelling at me. I stopped to try to hear what he was saying, and noticed a group of humans off in the distance who were standing next to a electric cart and watching me with more than curiosity. Well, I knew that they wanted some more crazy dog show, so I indulged them with some more superlative running. Don finally got down the hill and ordered me to follow him, while he lectured me on not disturbing golfers when they were trying to chip onto the green. I had no idea what he was talking about. I thought it was a very good walk.
When Geri was ready to go, we got in the truck and headed north until we got to the end of the Avenue of the Giants, just short of Scotia. We got off the 101 and turned south to immerse ourselves in redwoods. We stopped to get another look at a tree that had survived lightning, lumberjacks, and other problems, and still stood tall. We met some Texans with an irrepressible Pommie, who was jumping up the back of the truck to try to meet me properly. I think she liked me. We continued down to the Founder’s Grove, only to find out that dogs were not allowed on the trail. Tough Luck, I was told, as Geri and Don wandered off to see the trees. They were only gone for a little while, and I had a good nap while waiting for them. They told me about a giant tree that had fallen down during a storm, and that it was a lot taller than they were even while laying on the ground. We met another family who had a really cute Schnauzer, who had a lot to say until she was picked up by her human and properly introduced to me, face to face. She got really quiet. We stopped at some other places where I could walk the trails, but I thought it was safer to stay close to Don during these walks, as I didn’t know what the dangers were in this environment. We stopped for lunch at a little restaurant that had a big redwood stump in back of it that had been hollowed out to make a shelter, or house. I inspected it, and found it barely adequate to serve as a dog house. But the trees were beautiful and huge, the shade they provided was cool and welcome, and it was quite an enjoyable afternoon. Don says that I have to mention that we went to a grove of trees that was preserved by the California Women’s Clubs Federation, that featured a monument that was designed by Julia Morgan, one of his favorite architects. He says that she did the Hearst Castle job on the central California coast. OK, whatever.
When we got home, Geri fixed up some BLT sandwiches, which don’t leave much for me, but I got some leftover salmon anyway. Not a bad deal. We went to bed fairly early, as we have a big travel day tomorrow. Talk to you then!
Sunday, September 20, 2009
September 20, 2009 – Garberville, CA
Let me say first that there is some level of disagreement between Geri and Don as to where exactly we are. Don says that we are effectively in Garberville, as that is the closest incorporated community; Geri says we’re in Benbow, because the local newspaper refers to individuals as residing in Benbow. I really don’t have a dog in this fight (Ha! Ha!), because I’m just glad to be in a park that has a lot of nice grass to roll in. Don told me that when he was a pup, he would ride a bus (called a Greyhound!) up the 101 to stay with his Great Aunt and Uncle in Oregon nearly every summer. Every time he passed through this place, he would look out the window of the bus at the magnificent Benbow Inn, see the fine cars of the rich and famous parked around it, and tell himself that, someday, he would stay there too. Well, today marks the second time he’s stayed at the Benbow Resort. Except, it’s across the highway from the old Inn, and it accommodates only recreational vehicles, such as ours. Checking the Benbow’s website today, he found that the King of Jordan stayed at the Inn last year while on a motorcycle tour of the northern Californian and Oregon coast. Maybe when Don gets off this motorhome kick he’ll get to do the real thing.
Our voyage from Trinidad down to Garberville/Benbow was relatively short and uneventful, except for having to fuel at a regular gas station, with the usual space limitations and the need to keep inserting credit cards every seventy-five dollars. No real truck stops along this route. But the highway is very good, and traffic is light, so we sailed along very nicely. We got a very nice site at the RV Park, with lots of grass and a shade tree; very comfortable for me. Geri and Don went into Garberville to do some shopping, I napped until they came home, Geri took me for a nice walk, and I got my dinner. They snacked on some stuff they had been squirreling away for when they weren’t really hungry, and I got no plates out of it.
While Geri and I went out for another walk, Don took a cigar, a glass of Duggan’s Dew of Kirkintilloch, and a book of Glencannon stories out to our patio; when we returned, we could hear him laughing and coughing a half a block away. That’s what Glencannon stories do to him. Who is this Glencannon? Well, of course, Don has told me about him, and even read parts of some stories to me. Colin Glencannon is the principal character in a series of stories written by an author named Guy Gilpatric many years ago, most of which were published in the Saturday Evening Post. Mr. Glencannon is the Chief Engineer of an ancient tramp steamer, the SS Inchcliffe Castle, a British flagged vessel. Most of these stories take place prior to WW II. A man of unusual genius and monstrous capacity for Scotch Whisky, Glencannon’s escapades in various ports around the world make for hilarious reading for men of partial Scotch ancestry whose past lives include serving as engineers aboard antiquated steamships. Not that I’m talking about anyone in particular. Oh, by the way; Glencannon’s whisky of choice? Duggan’s Dew of Kirkintilloch. Well, I had to write about something today, and the pickings were kind of slim. Tomorrow is excursion day, and I’m hoping it will be eventful and interesting!
Let me say first that there is some level of disagreement between Geri and Don as to where exactly we are. Don says that we are effectively in Garberville, as that is the closest incorporated community; Geri says we’re in Benbow, because the local newspaper refers to individuals as residing in Benbow. I really don’t have a dog in this fight (Ha! Ha!), because I’m just glad to be in a park that has a lot of nice grass to roll in. Don told me that when he was a pup, he would ride a bus (called a Greyhound!) up the 101 to stay with his Great Aunt and Uncle in Oregon nearly every summer. Every time he passed through this place, he would look out the window of the bus at the magnificent Benbow Inn, see the fine cars of the rich and famous parked around it, and tell himself that, someday, he would stay there too. Well, today marks the second time he’s stayed at the Benbow Resort. Except, it’s across the highway from the old Inn, and it accommodates only recreational vehicles, such as ours. Checking the Benbow’s website today, he found that the King of Jordan stayed at the Inn last year while on a motorcycle tour of the northern Californian and Oregon coast. Maybe when Don gets off this motorhome kick he’ll get to do the real thing.
Our voyage from Trinidad down to Garberville/Benbow was relatively short and uneventful, except for having to fuel at a regular gas station, with the usual space limitations and the need to keep inserting credit cards every seventy-five dollars. No real truck stops along this route. But the highway is very good, and traffic is light, so we sailed along very nicely. We got a very nice site at the RV Park, with lots of grass and a shade tree; very comfortable for me. Geri and Don went into Garberville to do some shopping, I napped until they came home, Geri took me for a nice walk, and I got my dinner. They snacked on some stuff they had been squirreling away for when they weren’t really hungry, and I got no plates out of it.
While Geri and I went out for another walk, Don took a cigar, a glass of Duggan’s Dew of Kirkintilloch, and a book of Glencannon stories out to our patio; when we returned, we could hear him laughing and coughing a half a block away. That’s what Glencannon stories do to him. Who is this Glencannon? Well, of course, Don has told me about him, and even read parts of some stories to me. Colin Glencannon is the principal character in a series of stories written by an author named Guy Gilpatric many years ago, most of which were published in the Saturday Evening Post. Mr. Glencannon is the Chief Engineer of an ancient tramp steamer, the SS Inchcliffe Castle, a British flagged vessel. Most of these stories take place prior to WW II. A man of unusual genius and monstrous capacity for Scotch Whisky, Glencannon’s escapades in various ports around the world make for hilarious reading for men of partial Scotch ancestry whose past lives include serving as engineers aboard antiquated steamships. Not that I’m talking about anyone in particular. Oh, by the way; Glencannon’s whisky of choice? Duggan’s Dew of Kirkintilloch. Well, I had to write about something today, and the pickings were kind of slim. Tomorrow is excursion day, and I’m hoping it will be eventful and interesting!
Saturday, September 19, 2009
September 19, 2009 – Trinidad, CA
Geri and Don have stopped here in Trinidad on previous trips; every time, they have said that they need to spend some time here and get to see more of the area, because Trinidad has such a beautiful setting atop a cliff above the sea on a tiny bay. Well, this morning we set off to see Trinidad. We got an early start (for this crowd), and headed north to Patricks Point State Park. When we got to the Ranger’s kiosk at the entrance, Don told the lady that we were interested in going to Agate Beach. She wanted to know if we understood that the beach required going down (and back up) a couple hundred feet of stairs; nooo, we didn’t know that. She recommended that we head a little further north to Big Lagoon, where the beach was more accessible. We agreed. Just a few minutes later, we pulled into a parking spot just a couple of hundred yards from the beach, with no stairs. We walked out toward the surf, and I impetuously ran toward the water. Maybe something in my genes told me I should. I ran toward the surf as the surf was surging toward me, and I was suddenly knee deep in some really fast moving water that almost knocked me off my feet! Whoa! I acquired instant respect for this situation, and stayed clear of the surf during the remainder of our beach sojourn. We looked around the beach, and saw that there were quite a few people there roaming around, while looking down at the beach, which consisted of small pebbles. We talked to a couple who had two dogs with them, and found that they were looking for agates! Apparently, there are as many agates here as on Agate Beach! One of their dogs was a black Lab who was a really great digger. He dug up a rock the size of a big hamburger, and brought it over to his folks as a present. They weren’t all that interested, so he took it back down the beach and buried it. Their other dog was a Goldie, a female who had contracted cancer, requiring that her left foreleg be removed. She still got around pretty good, and was a very happy girl who showed great love for her humans. I liked her immediately. We walked around some more, looking at the pebbles in the beach, but not finding any agates. We met another Goldie, named Murdock, who was also very likeable; his mom had some really good treats, which she was willing to share with me.
Since Geri and Don weren’t finding any agates, and I wasn’t interested in playing in the deadly surf, we got back in the truck and headed for downtown Trinidad. Turns out, the only thing they had on their minds at that time was food! We parked at a restaurant, and they went in to gobble clam chowder and blackberry cobbler. I had gotten my lunch at the beach, so I didn’t feel too bad. When they finished their lunch, we drove down to the pier, where the fishing boats come in, and took a little walk around. The seagulls had absolutely no fear of me, so I didn’t bother with chasing them. We drove back up to town, and visited the memorial to Trinidadians who had been lost at sea over the years; it’s quite nice, and in a spectacular setting.
After making a purchase of some smoked salmon at a local shop, Don took us on a drive south of town, on a road that was really trying to fall off the cliff into the sea, but was under constant repair in many places to shore it up. Geri and I were glad that we weren’t in the motorhome. When we completed that tour, we realized that we had experienced everything that Trinidad had to offer! We went back to the rig to figure out what we were going to do tomorrow. Geri found this exhausting, and took a nap. Don kept researching, but ultimately came to the conclusion that the only decent RV Park further down the road, but still in the redwoods, was the Benbow RV Park, where we stayed last year as we went up the coast. So much for looking for new experiences. Geri made the reservations when she finished her nap. Tomorrow we’re off for Garberville. See ya!
Geri and Don have stopped here in Trinidad on previous trips; every time, they have said that they need to spend some time here and get to see more of the area, because Trinidad has such a beautiful setting atop a cliff above the sea on a tiny bay. Well, this morning we set off to see Trinidad. We got an early start (for this crowd), and headed north to Patricks Point State Park. When we got to the Ranger’s kiosk at the entrance, Don told the lady that we were interested in going to Agate Beach. She wanted to know if we understood that the beach required going down (and back up) a couple hundred feet of stairs; nooo, we didn’t know that. She recommended that we head a little further north to Big Lagoon, where the beach was more accessible. We agreed. Just a few minutes later, we pulled into a parking spot just a couple of hundred yards from the beach, with no stairs. We walked out toward the surf, and I impetuously ran toward the water. Maybe something in my genes told me I should. I ran toward the surf as the surf was surging toward me, and I was suddenly knee deep in some really fast moving water that almost knocked me off my feet! Whoa! I acquired instant respect for this situation, and stayed clear of the surf during the remainder of our beach sojourn. We looked around the beach, and saw that there were quite a few people there roaming around, while looking down at the beach, which consisted of small pebbles. We talked to a couple who had two dogs with them, and found that they were looking for agates! Apparently, there are as many agates here as on Agate Beach! One of their dogs was a black Lab who was a really great digger. He dug up a rock the size of a big hamburger, and brought it over to his folks as a present. They weren’t all that interested, so he took it back down the beach and buried it. Their other dog was a Goldie, a female who had contracted cancer, requiring that her left foreleg be removed. She still got around pretty good, and was a very happy girl who showed great love for her humans. I liked her immediately. We walked around some more, looking at the pebbles in the beach, but not finding any agates. We met another Goldie, named Murdock, who was also very likeable; his mom had some really good treats, which she was willing to share with me.
Since Geri and Don weren’t finding any agates, and I wasn’t interested in playing in the deadly surf, we got back in the truck and headed for downtown Trinidad. Turns out, the only thing they had on their minds at that time was food! We parked at a restaurant, and they went in to gobble clam chowder and blackberry cobbler. I had gotten my lunch at the beach, so I didn’t feel too bad. When they finished their lunch, we drove down to the pier, where the fishing boats come in, and took a little walk around. The seagulls had absolutely no fear of me, so I didn’t bother with chasing them. We drove back up to town, and visited the memorial to Trinidadians who had been lost at sea over the years; it’s quite nice, and in a spectacular setting.
After making a purchase of some smoked salmon at a local shop, Don took us on a drive south of town, on a road that was really trying to fall off the cliff into the sea, but was under constant repair in many places to shore it up. Geri and I were glad that we weren’t in the motorhome. When we completed that tour, we realized that we had experienced everything that Trinidad had to offer! We went back to the rig to figure out what we were going to do tomorrow. Geri found this exhausting, and took a nap. Don kept researching, but ultimately came to the conclusion that the only decent RV Park further down the road, but still in the redwoods, was the Benbow RV Park, where we stayed last year as we went up the coast. So much for looking for new experiences. Geri made the reservations when she finished her nap. Tomorrow we’re off for Garberville. See ya!
Friday, September 18, 2009
September 18, 2009 – Trinidad, CA
Another perfectly organized and executed travel day, planned and orchestrated by my extremely capable humans, Geri and Don. I had another nice walk through the woodsy KOA, courtesy of Don, but failed to scare up any critters to chase. The folks had a leisurely morning, got their heads together to agree on our next destination, and got underway about eleven. We stopped at an overlook on the coast to drink in some of the gorgeous scenery and have some lunch, then headed south again into California. We had some windey roads and hills, but nothing our intrepid pilot could not cope with. We reached our destination, the Emerald Forest RV Park just outside Trinidad, a little after three, and got set up in a beautiful site surrounded by majestic redwood trees. Don says that there are basically two kinds of RV Parks, artificial and natural. Most parks are artificial, being basically a parking lot that has been arranged to serve RV’s; most parks fall into this category. Some are magnificently designed and implemented, like our favorites, Seven Feathers in Canyonville and Outdoor Resorts in Las Vegas. Natural parks are carved out of natural surroundings like forests or desert rockpiles, with sites that have been constructed with strong consideration of maintaining the original features of the area. This park is a great example of a natural park, with the RV sites fitted in between groves of tall redwoods and the roads mostly dirt. We lucked out and got what is probably the best site in the park, very large, with beautiful trees on each side, and fairly level.
Don got the rig set up for living, and we commenced some needed housecleaning, Don on the outside and Geri on the inside. Once that was done, Don heated up some leftovers for dinner, and I got a few decent plates out of it. After dinner, Geri took me for a nice walk through the park, which is fairly full. We’re planning on some big time sightseeing tomorrow; I’ll give you a rundown and show you some pics!
Another perfectly organized and executed travel day, planned and orchestrated by my extremely capable humans, Geri and Don. I had another nice walk through the woodsy KOA, courtesy of Don, but failed to scare up any critters to chase. The folks had a leisurely morning, got their heads together to agree on our next destination, and got underway about eleven. We stopped at an overlook on the coast to drink in some of the gorgeous scenery and have some lunch, then headed south again into California. We had some windey roads and hills, but nothing our intrepid pilot could not cope with. We reached our destination, the Emerald Forest RV Park just outside Trinidad, a little after three, and got set up in a beautiful site surrounded by majestic redwood trees. Don says that there are basically two kinds of RV Parks, artificial and natural. Most parks are artificial, being basically a parking lot that has been arranged to serve RV’s; most parks fall into this category. Some are magnificently designed and implemented, like our favorites, Seven Feathers in Canyonville and Outdoor Resorts in Las Vegas. Natural parks are carved out of natural surroundings like forests or desert rockpiles, with sites that have been constructed with strong consideration of maintaining the original features of the area. This park is a great example of a natural park, with the RV sites fitted in between groves of tall redwoods and the roads mostly dirt. We lucked out and got what is probably the best site in the park, very large, with beautiful trees on each side, and fairly level.
Don got the rig set up for living, and we commenced some needed housecleaning, Don on the outside and Geri on the inside. Once that was done, Don heated up some leftovers for dinner, and I got a few decent plates out of it. After dinner, Geri took me for a nice walk through the park, which is fairly full. We’re planning on some big time sightseeing tomorrow; I’ll give you a rundown and show you some pics!
Thursday, September 17, 2009
September 17, 2009 – Port Orford, OR
We had one of those strange mornings where everyone gets up early, gets involved in something (usually nonessential), and doesn’t get around to doing whatever is on the schedule until the morning’s almost gone. On the scheduled, essential activities side, Don took me out for a good long walk on the playing field next to the RV Park. About halfway across the field, I spotted a couple of gophers lounging around on the grass and set out after them. They ran for their holes, but I kept an eye on which holes they went to; I chose one of them, and started a major excavation job to try to extract the rascal. I’m not normally a digger, but something was urging me on to get this critter. The dirt was really flying, and I got the hole big enough so that I could get my snout down the hole about a foot. No luck, he was way too deep. Well, it was fun anyway. When we got back to the rig, Don got involved in some exterior cleaning, and Geri was putzing around inside. They finally got together to discuss which RV Park they wanted to stay at in Port Orford; they finally boiled it down to two choices, and Geri called both of them to find out that they didn’t have room for us. She wound up getting a reservation at the KOA that we stayed at last year.
We finally got on the road around eleven, and headed south on the 5. Just as we were turning off onto route 38 to take us to the coast, Geri decided to take a nap. Too bad, she missed some remarkably beautiful scenery on the drive along the Umpqua River; Don and I really enjoyed it. We turned south on 101 at Reedsport, heading back through North Bend and Coos Bay and down through Bandon and Langlois, where Don spent many summers as a kid. We pulled into the KOA, got our site assigned, and pulled into it. As I got out of the coach, I could see that the lady from the rig next door was admiring me; I smiled at her, and she walked toward me. I was wagging furiously, and ran to her, while she knelt down to hug me. Wow, am I good, or what? Turns out she is a Goldie fancier, and has her own young fellow, by name of Austin. He’s less than two years old, and a bit feisty. That’s OK, he’ll probably calm down.
After Don got the coach set up and livable, we loaded into the truck and headed down the road to visit Port Orford. We’ve been through here before, but haven’t spent any time looking around. We went down to the fishboat pier, where they haul the boats up onto the pier for storage with a crane. Lots of boats, but not much going on. We drove up the hill to the old Coast Guard Lifeboat Station, where the museum was closed. Then we went over to the lake which is separated from the ocean by sand dunes, and looked at the nice houses there. We visited the RV Parks that didn’t have room for us; they were both kind of tight, might have been difficult to shoehorn our rig into one of those spots.
Geri and Don called a halt to our wanderings, and headed for their real destination, a restaurant called The Crazy Norwegian’s. It has the reputation for serving the finest fish and chips on the Oregon Coast. They came out about an hour later (and about an hour after my scheduled meal time) raving about the quality of the fish; the place was packed with people, and they had been invited to share a table with a couple of fellow RV’ers from Reno, who were staying in Port Orford for a couple of months. I guess they had a really good time while their Best Friend starved in the truck. But we finally got home, I got my dinner, and all was well; I forgive easily. A little walk with Geri through the RV Park, a few treats, a little blogging, and so to bed. We’re underway again tomorrow!
We had one of those strange mornings where everyone gets up early, gets involved in something (usually nonessential), and doesn’t get around to doing whatever is on the schedule until the morning’s almost gone. On the scheduled, essential activities side, Don took me out for a good long walk on the playing field next to the RV Park. About halfway across the field, I spotted a couple of gophers lounging around on the grass and set out after them. They ran for their holes, but I kept an eye on which holes they went to; I chose one of them, and started a major excavation job to try to extract the rascal. I’m not normally a digger, but something was urging me on to get this critter. The dirt was really flying, and I got the hole big enough so that I could get my snout down the hole about a foot. No luck, he was way too deep. Well, it was fun anyway. When we got back to the rig, Don got involved in some exterior cleaning, and Geri was putzing around inside. They finally got together to discuss which RV Park they wanted to stay at in Port Orford; they finally boiled it down to two choices, and Geri called both of them to find out that they didn’t have room for us. She wound up getting a reservation at the KOA that we stayed at last year.
We finally got on the road around eleven, and headed south on the 5. Just as we were turning off onto route 38 to take us to the coast, Geri decided to take a nap. Too bad, she missed some remarkably beautiful scenery on the drive along the Umpqua River; Don and I really enjoyed it. We turned south on 101 at Reedsport, heading back through North Bend and Coos Bay and down through Bandon and Langlois, where Don spent many summers as a kid. We pulled into the KOA, got our site assigned, and pulled into it. As I got out of the coach, I could see that the lady from the rig next door was admiring me; I smiled at her, and she walked toward me. I was wagging furiously, and ran to her, while she knelt down to hug me. Wow, am I good, or what? Turns out she is a Goldie fancier, and has her own young fellow, by name of Austin. He’s less than two years old, and a bit feisty. That’s OK, he’ll probably calm down.
After Don got the coach set up and livable, we loaded into the truck and headed down the road to visit Port Orford. We’ve been through here before, but haven’t spent any time looking around. We went down to the fishboat pier, where they haul the boats up onto the pier for storage with a crane. Lots of boats, but not much going on. We drove up the hill to the old Coast Guard Lifeboat Station, where the museum was closed. Then we went over to the lake which is separated from the ocean by sand dunes, and looked at the nice houses there. We visited the RV Parks that didn’t have room for us; they were both kind of tight, might have been difficult to shoehorn our rig into one of those spots.
Geri and Don called a halt to our wanderings, and headed for their real destination, a restaurant called The Crazy Norwegian’s. It has the reputation for serving the finest fish and chips on the Oregon Coast. They came out about an hour later (and about an hour after my scheduled meal time) raving about the quality of the fish; the place was packed with people, and they had been invited to share a table with a couple of fellow RV’ers from Reno, who were staying in Port Orford for a couple of months. I guess they had a really good time while their Best Friend starved in the truck. But we finally got home, I got my dinner, and all was well; I forgive easily. A little walk with Geri through the RV Park, a few treats, a little blogging, and so to bed. We’re underway again tomorrow!
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
September 16, 2009 – Albany, OR
Hi, it’s me, I’m back on the blog again! Oh, you say I’ve got some ‘splainin to do? Well, I guess I do. Some of you (the sane portion of my followers) may have looked at my last post and came to the conclusion that I was delusional and ready for the doggy looney bin. Well, I was a little crazy; from boredom! Aside from a nice walk in a woodsy area with Don in the morning, we did almost nothing all day! Oh, a little cleaning, a little shopping, but nothing involving ME! So, when it came time to do the blog, and Don asked me what I wanted to say, I just made up a bunch of stuff that I had dreamed of before, things that I hoped might happen some day. At first, he didn’t want to have anything to do with it, as he didn’t want people to think that he hung out with a crazy retriever. I cajoled him, and told him to have another scotch, and finally he relented and typed up my stories, and sent them to the blog. When he re-read them the next morning, he had unkind words for me for making him publish such garbage. Well, I thought it was kinda fun, and, besides, what else was I going to say? That I laid around all day watching them do next to nothing? Phooey on that!
The next day, I got to stay with Gary at his house while Geri and Don went with Carol and Mikey into Seattle for some sightseeing. I enjoy time with Gary now, since he treats me much more nicely than he did when I was an untrained puppy. Boy, those were tough times. He actually shows some respect now for my good manners and my knowledge of worldly things. We went for a very good walk on one of my favorite paths, and several squirrels were foolish enough to cross my path; put a good scare into them! When the sightseers returned, they told me about visiting the Pike Place Market, where guys throw big fish around and there is every kind of food in the world to eat. Wonder why they didn’t take me? They also went on a tour of Underground Seattle, down in the oldest part of town. They explained to me that after most of the buildings had been constructed there, the city decided to raise the level of the streets, so that the lower story of all the buildings would now be underground and abandoned. Don loves to go on this tour, because it connects him with his distant cousins, the Denny brothers, who founded Seattle back in the 1850’s. He’s also told me about some of the adventures that he’s had in Seattle many years ago, but he’s made me promise not to tell Geri about them.
Yesterday, we spent the whole day over at Gary’s; Geri spent a lot of time trying to tame the roses in his front yard, but it proved to be too overwhelming a job. Gary made a batch of pizzelle, an Italian cookie that he’s kind of famous for, and taught Don how to make them. They had Ezell’s Famous Chicken for dinner; Geri said that some well-known person called Oprah has this stuff flown to wherever she is when she isn’t dieting. I didn’t get much of any of it.
Today we broke camp and left Lake Pleasant RV Resort. I’ve enjoyed it here, even when there wasn’t anything to do. It’s very quiet, the ducks are nice, and there’s great grass for rolling. Can’t complain. We hit the road about eleven, stopped for fuel in Tacoma, and headed south for Oregon again. We finally came to a halt here in Albany. Wonder why we stopped here? Could food have anything to do with it? For sure! This is the site of Novak’s Hungarian Bakery and Restaurant, a place they discovered years ago, and they will plan their itinerary around a stop in Albany, just to be able to eat at Novak’s. They came back from dinner bloated and speaking unintelligibly, with paprika oozing out of their pores. It was a little off-putting. It was tough working with Don to put this blog entry together, because he kept falling asleep. But we managed. Tomorrow we’re off for the coast, destination Port Orford. I’ll try to let you know how it goes.
Hi, it’s me, I’m back on the blog again! Oh, you say I’ve got some ‘splainin to do? Well, I guess I do. Some of you (the sane portion of my followers) may have looked at my last post and came to the conclusion that I was delusional and ready for the doggy looney bin. Well, I was a little crazy; from boredom! Aside from a nice walk in a woodsy area with Don in the morning, we did almost nothing all day! Oh, a little cleaning, a little shopping, but nothing involving ME! So, when it came time to do the blog, and Don asked me what I wanted to say, I just made up a bunch of stuff that I had dreamed of before, things that I hoped might happen some day. At first, he didn’t want to have anything to do with it, as he didn’t want people to think that he hung out with a crazy retriever. I cajoled him, and told him to have another scotch, and finally he relented and typed up my stories, and sent them to the blog. When he re-read them the next morning, he had unkind words for me for making him publish such garbage. Well, I thought it was kinda fun, and, besides, what else was I going to say? That I laid around all day watching them do next to nothing? Phooey on that!
The next day, I got to stay with Gary at his house while Geri and Don went with Carol and Mikey into Seattle for some sightseeing. I enjoy time with Gary now, since he treats me much more nicely than he did when I was an untrained puppy. Boy, those were tough times. He actually shows some respect now for my good manners and my knowledge of worldly things. We went for a very good walk on one of my favorite paths, and several squirrels were foolish enough to cross my path; put a good scare into them! When the sightseers returned, they told me about visiting the Pike Place Market, where guys throw big fish around and there is every kind of food in the world to eat. Wonder why they didn’t take me? They also went on a tour of Underground Seattle, down in the oldest part of town. They explained to me that after most of the buildings had been constructed there, the city decided to raise the level of the streets, so that the lower story of all the buildings would now be underground and abandoned. Don loves to go on this tour, because it connects him with his distant cousins, the Denny brothers, who founded Seattle back in the 1850’s. He’s also told me about some of the adventures that he’s had in Seattle many years ago, but he’s made me promise not to tell Geri about them.
Yesterday, we spent the whole day over at Gary’s; Geri spent a lot of time trying to tame the roses in his front yard, but it proved to be too overwhelming a job. Gary made a batch of pizzelle, an Italian cookie that he’s kind of famous for, and taught Don how to make them. They had Ezell’s Famous Chicken for dinner; Geri said that some well-known person called Oprah has this stuff flown to wherever she is when she isn’t dieting. I didn’t get much of any of it.
Today we broke camp and left Lake Pleasant RV Resort. I’ve enjoyed it here, even when there wasn’t anything to do. It’s very quiet, the ducks are nice, and there’s great grass for rolling. Can’t complain. We hit the road about eleven, stopped for fuel in Tacoma, and headed south for Oregon again. We finally came to a halt here in Albany. Wonder why we stopped here? Could food have anything to do with it? For sure! This is the site of Novak’s Hungarian Bakery and Restaurant, a place they discovered years ago, and they will plan their itinerary around a stop in Albany, just to be able to eat at Novak’s. They came back from dinner bloated and speaking unintelligibly, with paprika oozing out of their pores. It was a little off-putting. It was tough working with Don to put this blog entry together, because he kept falling asleep. But we managed. Tomorrow we’re off for the coast, destination Port Orford. I’ll try to let you know how it goes.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
September 13, 2009 – Bothell, WA
Another really late start this morning; this crew is getting super sluggish. Don didn’t get going for our walk until almost ten, which came close to causing a crisis for me. When we finally headed out for the truck, I had to make a pit stop in the grass next to the lake before jumping in. We went into downtown Bothell, and pulled into a park next to the river that runs through town. It was a really nice park, with lots of grass and ducks. We inspected several very old buildings, including the cabin of Bothell’s first settler; it was really small, they probably didn’t have room for a dog. We walked along the river on a path that was really popular with bicyclists and runners, so we really had to keep an eye out for them to keep out of their way. But it was a fun walk in a place I’d never been before. I think.
When we got back to the rig, Geri was ready to go, and we headed out to a restaurant that she had found; it was really different and special! The humans and pets (mostly dogs, but some cats) all sat together at their own table, with special wide benches for large dogs, like me. They ordered for themselves and for me off a menu, and were served several courses of really good food! They had some soup and sandwiches, while I got some good lean beef strips, a corn muffin, and some delicious gravy. It was kind of noisy in there, but lots of fun, and the food was great. I really enjoyed sitting at the table with them, and they said that my manners were very good. I think this restaurant has a great future, and hope that something similar opens in Ventura.
After lunch, we went to an amusement park, where there were all kinds of exciting rides. We found one of Don’s favorite rides, a thing called a “Tilt-A-Whirl”, which goes around on a wavy track while you’re seated in a car that spins around and around, sometimes fast and sometimes more slowly. Don bought the tickets and got into one of the cars, while Geri snuck up the exit ramp and we both got into the car with Don. When the ride got going, Don maneuvered the car to get it spinning rapidly, first one way, then the other. I got really dizzy, and started whimpering, so Geri made Don slow the whirling of the car down a bit. I still thought that I was going to lose my lunch, but fortunately the ride came to an end before I barfed all over everyone. I got off the ride feeling a little wobbly, and I hoped that I could have a little time to recover before we had another adventure. But no, Don was buying tickets for a small roller-coaster type ride with cars that held three people and zigged and zagged all over the place. He convinced the ride operator that, though I was too short to meet the height requirement for the ride, that I was much taller if I stood on my hind legs, and besides, I was 56 years old in dog years, that I should be allowed to ride. The operator went along with this reasoning, and we all got aboard. Don got in the front seat, I was in the middle, and Geri sat in back of me. We chugged up a very steep track for what seemed to me forever, paused at the top of ride, and then went hurtling down the track at a very high speed. We jerked around corners, dropped into deep valleys, cruised up steep hills, and roared around more turns for what seemed forever. It was exhilarating, but kinda scary. I think I liked it more than the Tilt-A-Whirl. We went on several more rides, none of them quite as wild as the first two, and I got my first taste of cotton candy. I hope we’ll go to another amusement park soon!
To cap off the day, we went to the Canine Hall of Fame in Seattle, where they have on display, through the miracle of modern taxidermy, many of the most famous dogs in history. Not only did we see the original Lassie (who, as I could plainly see, was really a Laddie), another movie star by the name (I think) of Run Tin Can, but also the first dog in space, a Russian dog by the name of Laika. They had one of President Johnson’s dogs, whose ear flaps were enormously long, and President Nixon’s dog, Checkers, who everyone agreed was not a crook. By the time we got out of there, I was dog tired. We headed back to the rig, got a good meal and some treats, and I was down for the count. Night, all!
Another really late start this morning; this crew is getting super sluggish. Don didn’t get going for our walk until almost ten, which came close to causing a crisis for me. When we finally headed out for the truck, I had to make a pit stop in the grass next to the lake before jumping in. We went into downtown Bothell, and pulled into a park next to the river that runs through town. It was a really nice park, with lots of grass and ducks. We inspected several very old buildings, including the cabin of Bothell’s first settler; it was really small, they probably didn’t have room for a dog. We walked along the river on a path that was really popular with bicyclists and runners, so we really had to keep an eye out for them to keep out of their way. But it was a fun walk in a place I’d never been before. I think.
When we got back to the rig, Geri was ready to go, and we headed out to a restaurant that she had found; it was really different and special! The humans and pets (mostly dogs, but some cats) all sat together at their own table, with special wide benches for large dogs, like me. They ordered for themselves and for me off a menu, and were served several courses of really good food! They had some soup and sandwiches, while I got some good lean beef strips, a corn muffin, and some delicious gravy. It was kind of noisy in there, but lots of fun, and the food was great. I really enjoyed sitting at the table with them, and they said that my manners were very good. I think this restaurant has a great future, and hope that something similar opens in Ventura.
After lunch, we went to an amusement park, where there were all kinds of exciting rides. We found one of Don’s favorite rides, a thing called a “Tilt-A-Whirl”, which goes around on a wavy track while you’re seated in a car that spins around and around, sometimes fast and sometimes more slowly. Don bought the tickets and got into one of the cars, while Geri snuck up the exit ramp and we both got into the car with Don. When the ride got going, Don maneuvered the car to get it spinning rapidly, first one way, then the other. I got really dizzy, and started whimpering, so Geri made Don slow the whirling of the car down a bit. I still thought that I was going to lose my lunch, but fortunately the ride came to an end before I barfed all over everyone. I got off the ride feeling a little wobbly, and I hoped that I could have a little time to recover before we had another adventure. But no, Don was buying tickets for a small roller-coaster type ride with cars that held three people and zigged and zagged all over the place. He convinced the ride operator that, though I was too short to meet the height requirement for the ride, that I was much taller if I stood on my hind legs, and besides, I was 56 years old in dog years, that I should be allowed to ride. The operator went along with this reasoning, and we all got aboard. Don got in the front seat, I was in the middle, and Geri sat in back of me. We chugged up a very steep track for what seemed to me forever, paused at the top of ride, and then went hurtling down the track at a very high speed. We jerked around corners, dropped into deep valleys, cruised up steep hills, and roared around more turns for what seemed forever. It was exhilarating, but kinda scary. I think I liked it more than the Tilt-A-Whirl. We went on several more rides, none of them quite as wild as the first two, and I got my first taste of cotton candy. I hope we’ll go to another amusement park soon!
To cap off the day, we went to the Canine Hall of Fame in Seattle, where they have on display, through the miracle of modern taxidermy, many of the most famous dogs in history. Not only did we see the original Lassie (who, as I could plainly see, was really a Laddie), another movie star by the name (I think) of Run Tin Can, but also the first dog in space, a Russian dog by the name of Laika. They had one of President Johnson’s dogs, whose ear flaps were enormously long, and President Nixon’s dog, Checkers, who everyone agreed was not a crook. By the time we got out of there, I was dog tired. We headed back to the rig, got a good meal and some treats, and I was down for the count. Night, all!
Saturday, September 12, 2009
September 12, 2009 – Bothell, WA
What a bunch of slugabeds this morning! Don didn’t get up until 7:30, I stayed down until 8:00, and Geri was a nine o’clocker. Everything was in low gear; Don and I didn’t get out for our morning walk until almost ten, and when we went to the park that we had gone to yesterday, it was wall-to-wall kids playing all kinds of sports. Not conducive to our kind of walking. We headed into downtown Bothell, and Don found a school with a big grassy area around it, and no kids. We had a very pleasant walk, and I found a few good places to roll in. When we got back to the rig, Geri and Don discussed the plans for the evening. Carol and Uncle Mikey the Magnificent were out playing golf with Gary again today, and it was decided that we would have the gang over to the coach for a cookout. So Don took off for his favorite butcher shop, Double D Meats in Mountlake Terrace, to get the makings for hamburgers. He came back with not only the hamburger meat, but a bunch of steaks, bratwurst, cold cuts, barbeque sauce, and mustard. He can’t be trusted to go there alone. Geri headed out for the local grocery to get the rest of the trimmings for dinner, leaving Don and I to set up the furniture outside the rig to accommodate the feast. When all the goodies were accumulated, we had the burgers, baked beans, coleslaw, a pasta salad, a bean salad, and a bunch of chips and dips.
The rest of the gang arrived just before seven, and we all feasted on the accumulated goodies; I was able to mooch several bites from well-meaning guests. After dinner, Geri distributed some of the fudge from the monastery we had visited in Oregon for dessert; I didn’t get any, ‘cause chocolate is very bad for me.
A kinda short, laid-back day, but fun, like we were really on vacation. Maybe we should do this more often!
What a bunch of slugabeds this morning! Don didn’t get up until 7:30, I stayed down until 8:00, and Geri was a nine o’clocker. Everything was in low gear; Don and I didn’t get out for our morning walk until almost ten, and when we went to the park that we had gone to yesterday, it was wall-to-wall kids playing all kinds of sports. Not conducive to our kind of walking. We headed into downtown Bothell, and Don found a school with a big grassy area around it, and no kids. We had a very pleasant walk, and I found a few good places to roll in. When we got back to the rig, Geri and Don discussed the plans for the evening. Carol and Uncle Mikey the Magnificent were out playing golf with Gary again today, and it was decided that we would have the gang over to the coach for a cookout. So Don took off for his favorite butcher shop, Double D Meats in Mountlake Terrace, to get the makings for hamburgers. He came back with not only the hamburger meat, but a bunch of steaks, bratwurst, cold cuts, barbeque sauce, and mustard. He can’t be trusted to go there alone. Geri headed out for the local grocery to get the rest of the trimmings for dinner, leaving Don and I to set up the furniture outside the rig to accommodate the feast. When all the goodies were accumulated, we had the burgers, baked beans, coleslaw, a pasta salad, a bean salad, and a bunch of chips and dips.
The rest of the gang arrived just before seven, and we all feasted on the accumulated goodies; I was able to mooch several bites from well-meaning guests. After dinner, Geri distributed some of the fudge from the monastery we had visited in Oregon for dessert; I didn’t get any, ‘cause chocolate is very bad for me.
A kinda short, laid-back day, but fun, like we were really on vacation. Maybe we should do this more often!
Friday, September 11, 2009
September 11, 2009 – Bothell, WA
Hi, folks! Sorry about missing the posting last night, but Geri and Don got home from dinner so late that it was already my bed time, after a particularly exciting and exhausting day. So, I really didn’t feel like staying up long enough to channel my thoughts to Don; I could tell he was a little tired, too. So, I’ll catch you up to date now. First, I have to say Thank You, Thank You, Thank You, Uncle Mikey! I’ll let you know later what that’s all about.
After our usual morning routine, we got in the truck and headed over to Lynnwood to meet up with David (Craig) and Jane, who are not jerks. That’s my final word. Today. We struck out, caravan style, for Mukilteo, where we caught the ferry over to Whidbey Island. I had to stay in the truck, because of some stupid rules about dogs on the passenger deck, but I had a good view of Puget Sound as we chugged across. When they came back to the truck, just before we landed in the slip, I heard Don talking to Geri about not finding the Builder’s Plaque for the ferry, which was called the Kittitat. Don has a thing about photographing ship’s Builder’s Plaques, and he knows where they are usually mounted on the ferries. No Plaque; he even asked a crew member, who was ignorant of the Plaque altogether. Oh, well. Once off the boat, we headed up the highway to a winery so that they could do some tasting and buying. When we got through there, we headed further up the island to find the house where Jane used to live in another lifetime, back when she was young. It was still there, had not fallen down yet, in fact it looked pretty good for its age; but then, so does Jane. We found another winery, and Geri got me out of the truck so that I could look around a little bit. They did some more tasting and buying of wine, and were just heading back to the truck when Don noticed a car in the winery’s garage. “That’s a Cord!” he yelled, and sprinted off to talk to the vintner in the tasting room. The two of them came out, walked down to the garage, and had a long discussion about the car. Another, older guy walked into the garage, and Don got into a long discussion with him. After awhile, Don got his fill of information on the car, and came back to join us. Turns out he had a very similar car when he was in the Maritime Academy, and loved it dearly. He wishes he still had it. He’ll probably post a picture of the Cord. Then we headed for a place that looked like a big collection of barns, which turned out to be shops and restaurants. They bought some crackers and cheese and made snacks on a picnic bench. I got my regular lunch, which they had brought, and a few crackers besides. So then it was time to head back to the ferry, which was just pulling out as we approached the ticket booth. But it was a nice place to wait for the next ferry, which turned out to be the Kittitat again. We got a spot on the ferry that gave me another nice view of the Sound, and Don went in search of the Builder’s Plaque again. This time he accosted one of the senior Officers on the boat, who walked him over to where the plaque was supposed to be; the Officer was shocked to see that it wasn’t in it’s proper place! I think there will be a major inquiry into the missing plaque; you may see a feature on it on the evening news broadcast.
I need to insert here: Thanks again, Uncle Mikey! Thank you, thank you, thank you!
So, we headed back to the rig, I got my dinner, and they took off for a big gettogether with Craig (David), Jane, Gary, Carol and beloved Uncle Mikey. Apparently they had a very good time at Arnie’s, a nice fish place at Edmond’s harbor, as they got back pretty late, as previously mentioned. I got my usual going-to-bed cookies, and went to bed.
This morning, Don put me in the truck and we went to a big sports park next to a school. I got to do some running and rolling, which I needed badly. We went back to the rig, Don dumped me, and took off to get the truck washed. He knows that I hate riding through car washes; I think we’re under attack by strange monsters spewing soap and water. We spent the rest of the day being lazy, while Geri did some cleaning in the coach. Don and I sat outside under the awning for awhile, and he read to me from a book on the Geology of Oregon. Something about Permian formations from the Crustacean Period, overlaying pearlitic tufa from the Jurassic, or something like that. It put me to sleep. When Geri let us back into the coach, we watched some TV about the Terrorist Attack on New York and Washington in 2001. I was only eight days old when it happened, so I don’t remember anything about it, but Don has told me what an awful day it was, and I hope that nothing like that ever happens again.
I got my dinner, and they took off to meet Gary, Aunt Carol and Uncle Mikey at the Outback Restaurant up by the 405. They were back early enough so that I could work with Don on the blog, and they had a little carton with them; Uncle Mikey couldn’t finish his steak, so he sent it home with Geri as a treat for their favorite canine nephew, me! One more time, Thank you, thank you, thank you, Uncle Mikey! I went to bed very happy.
Hi, folks! Sorry about missing the posting last night, but Geri and Don got home from dinner so late that it was already my bed time, after a particularly exciting and exhausting day. So, I really didn’t feel like staying up long enough to channel my thoughts to Don; I could tell he was a little tired, too. So, I’ll catch you up to date now. First, I have to say Thank You, Thank You, Thank You, Uncle Mikey! I’ll let you know later what that’s all about.
After our usual morning routine, we got in the truck and headed over to Lynnwood to meet up with David (Craig) and Jane, who are not jerks. That’s my final word. Today. We struck out, caravan style, for Mukilteo, where we caught the ferry over to Whidbey Island. I had to stay in the truck, because of some stupid rules about dogs on the passenger deck, but I had a good view of Puget Sound as we chugged across. When they came back to the truck, just before we landed in the slip, I heard Don talking to Geri about not finding the Builder’s Plaque for the ferry, which was called the Kittitat. Don has a thing about photographing ship’s Builder’s Plaques, and he knows where they are usually mounted on the ferries. No Plaque; he even asked a crew member, who was ignorant of the Plaque altogether. Oh, well. Once off the boat, we headed up the highway to a winery so that they could do some tasting and buying. When we got through there, we headed further up the island to find the house where Jane used to live in another lifetime, back when she was young. It was still there, had not fallen down yet, in fact it looked pretty good for its age; but then, so does Jane. We found another winery, and Geri got me out of the truck so that I could look around a little bit. They did some more tasting and buying of wine, and were just heading back to the truck when Don noticed a car in the winery’s garage. “That’s a Cord!” he yelled, and sprinted off to talk to the vintner in the tasting room. The two of them came out, walked down to the garage, and had a long discussion about the car. Another, older guy walked into the garage, and Don got into a long discussion with him. After awhile, Don got his fill of information on the car, and came back to join us. Turns out he had a very similar car when he was in the Maritime Academy, and loved it dearly. He wishes he still had it. He’ll probably post a picture of the Cord. Then we headed for a place that looked like a big collection of barns, which turned out to be shops and restaurants. They bought some crackers and cheese and made snacks on a picnic bench. I got my regular lunch, which they had brought, and a few crackers besides. So then it was time to head back to the ferry, which was just pulling out as we approached the ticket booth. But it was a nice place to wait for the next ferry, which turned out to be the Kittitat again. We got a spot on the ferry that gave me another nice view of the Sound, and Don went in search of the Builder’s Plaque again. This time he accosted one of the senior Officers on the boat, who walked him over to where the plaque was supposed to be; the Officer was shocked to see that it wasn’t in it’s proper place! I think there will be a major inquiry into the missing plaque; you may see a feature on it on the evening news broadcast.
I need to insert here: Thanks again, Uncle Mikey! Thank you, thank you, thank you!
So, we headed back to the rig, I got my dinner, and they took off for a big gettogether with Craig (David), Jane, Gary, Carol and beloved Uncle Mikey. Apparently they had a very good time at Arnie’s, a nice fish place at Edmond’s harbor, as they got back pretty late, as previously mentioned. I got my usual going-to-bed cookies, and went to bed.
This morning, Don put me in the truck and we went to a big sports park next to a school. I got to do some running and rolling, which I needed badly. We went back to the rig, Don dumped me, and took off to get the truck washed. He knows that I hate riding through car washes; I think we’re under attack by strange monsters spewing soap and water. We spent the rest of the day being lazy, while Geri did some cleaning in the coach. Don and I sat outside under the awning for awhile, and he read to me from a book on the Geology of Oregon. Something about Permian formations from the Crustacean Period, overlaying pearlitic tufa from the Jurassic, or something like that. It put me to sleep. When Geri let us back into the coach, we watched some TV about the Terrorist Attack on New York and Washington in 2001. I was only eight days old when it happened, so I don’t remember anything about it, but Don has told me what an awful day it was, and I hope that nothing like that ever happens again.
I got my dinner, and they took off to meet Gary, Aunt Carol and Uncle Mikey at the Outback Restaurant up by the 405. They were back early enough so that I could work with Don on the blog, and they had a little carton with them; Uncle Mikey couldn’t finish his steak, so he sent it home with Geri as a treat for their favorite canine nephew, me! One more time, Thank you, thank you, thank you, Uncle Mikey! I went to bed very happy.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
September 9, 2009 – Bothell, WA
This morning was so routine and relatively boring that, instead of giving you the details of our activities, I’m going to tell you about the Great Oyster War that’s been going on here. When we were parked in Coos Bay, Don bought some oysters at a place that seems to be very well known for the quality of their product, in Glasgow. A couple of days later, he cooked half of them tempura style, along with some veggies. Geri thought the veggies were OK, but didn’t care for the oysters. So, here we are stuck with about a dozen and a half supposedly magnificent oysters. A couple of days ago, Don proposed to prepare oyster club sandwiches for Geri and Jan; Jan quickly opted out, and Geri was right behind. Don was becoming increasingly frustrated over those oysters. Yesterday, Geri was discussing the oyster situation with Gary, and recounted the story of Don dragging us through the misery of Highway 49 from Auburn to Placerville some years ago, just so he could breakfast on a Hangtown Fry there the next morning. You may be wondering just what is a Hangtown Fry; well, according to Don (whose veracity I trust completely), back in the Gold Rush days, when Placerville was known as Hangtown, a miner came into a restaurant, threw a bag of gold on the table, and asked the proprietor to make the most expensive meal that he could. A shipment of Pacific Oysters had just come in from San Francisco, so the owner had the cook fix up what was essentially an oyster omelet. It was well received, and became popular as the Hangtown Fry. Don adores them, and will go miles out of his way on a virtually undriveable road in a motorhome to get one. Anyway, he is now fixated on the idea of making some huge Hangtown Fries for whoever in the family will show up to eat them. I really don’t know who that will be. I’ll let you know how this works out.
It turns out that this was my bath and grooming day, and I was taken to groomer in Lynwood that I had been to several times before when we were visiting. They’re very nice, and do a good job of cleaning me up; Don says they even make me smell good. So, that’s where I spent my afternoon. They went over to Gary’s to do some laundry and visit with his neighbors. They picked me up a few hours later, and were very pleased with the way I looked; so was I! They took me back to Gary’s, a place that I remember so well from my puppyhood, the place where I went through puppy Boot Camp, with an ex-Marine Drill Instructor. It was particularly good to visit him in a non-threatening situation where I knew that I wouldn’t be subjected to repeated training exercises designed to turn me into the perfectly behaved dog that I now am.
The visit at Gary’s was kind of short, as the laundry was done and we had to get back to the coach. I got my dinner and a walk with Don. We headed over to what Don calls my “poopenplatz”, which happened to be occupied by a small group of ducks. As he was removing my leash, he asked me to please don’t chase the ducks. Whatever. I didn’t much feel like chasing them anyway, as they didn’t seem inclined to run or fly. I did my business, we finished our walk, and they took off for dinner with Gary and Craig and Jane, who had just flown in from Arizona. They came back a few hours later, with Don still complaining about undercooked rigatoni; I probably would have thought it was OK.
Understand we have a big excursion tomorrow; should be exciting! I’ll fill you in when we get home. Night, all!
This morning was so routine and relatively boring that, instead of giving you the details of our activities, I’m going to tell you about the Great Oyster War that’s been going on here. When we were parked in Coos Bay, Don bought some oysters at a place that seems to be very well known for the quality of their product, in Glasgow. A couple of days later, he cooked half of them tempura style, along with some veggies. Geri thought the veggies were OK, but didn’t care for the oysters. So, here we are stuck with about a dozen and a half supposedly magnificent oysters. A couple of days ago, Don proposed to prepare oyster club sandwiches for Geri and Jan; Jan quickly opted out, and Geri was right behind. Don was becoming increasingly frustrated over those oysters. Yesterday, Geri was discussing the oyster situation with Gary, and recounted the story of Don dragging us through the misery of Highway 49 from Auburn to Placerville some years ago, just so he could breakfast on a Hangtown Fry there the next morning. You may be wondering just what is a Hangtown Fry; well, according to Don (whose veracity I trust completely), back in the Gold Rush days, when Placerville was known as Hangtown, a miner came into a restaurant, threw a bag of gold on the table, and asked the proprietor to make the most expensive meal that he could. A shipment of Pacific Oysters had just come in from San Francisco, so the owner had the cook fix up what was essentially an oyster omelet. It was well received, and became popular as the Hangtown Fry. Don adores them, and will go miles out of his way on a virtually undriveable road in a motorhome to get one. Anyway, he is now fixated on the idea of making some huge Hangtown Fries for whoever in the family will show up to eat them. I really don’t know who that will be. I’ll let you know how this works out.
It turns out that this was my bath and grooming day, and I was taken to groomer in Lynwood that I had been to several times before when we were visiting. They’re very nice, and do a good job of cleaning me up; Don says they even make me smell good. So, that’s where I spent my afternoon. They went over to Gary’s to do some laundry and visit with his neighbors. They picked me up a few hours later, and were very pleased with the way I looked; so was I! They took me back to Gary’s, a place that I remember so well from my puppyhood, the place where I went through puppy Boot Camp, with an ex-Marine Drill Instructor. It was particularly good to visit him in a non-threatening situation where I knew that I wouldn’t be subjected to repeated training exercises designed to turn me into the perfectly behaved dog that I now am.
The visit at Gary’s was kind of short, as the laundry was done and we had to get back to the coach. I got my dinner and a walk with Don. We headed over to what Don calls my “poopenplatz”, which happened to be occupied by a small group of ducks. As he was removing my leash, he asked me to please don’t chase the ducks. Whatever. I didn’t much feel like chasing them anyway, as they didn’t seem inclined to run or fly. I did my business, we finished our walk, and they took off for dinner with Gary and Craig and Jane, who had just flown in from Arizona. They came back a few hours later, with Don still complaining about undercooked rigatoni; I probably would have thought it was OK.
Understand we have a big excursion tomorrow; should be exciting! I’ll fill you in when we get home. Night, all!
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
September 8, 2009 – Bothell, WA
Travel days are always marked by big flurries of activity in the morning, getting ready to get underway, followed by long hours of boredom, otherwise known as nap time. We usually get a rest stop during the day’s trip, giving me an opportunity to sniff out some new flora and maybe chase some fauna. On arrival at our destination RV Park, there’s another flurry of motion to set up the rig for our stay there. Geri then takes me for an orientation walk around the park, while Don fixes dinner. It was all going according to routine this time, except Don was still fussing with the satellite antenna when Geri and I got back from our walk, with no dinner fixings in sight. I sensed that we were awaiting a visitor, and I soon found out I was right; who should show up at the door of the coach but Gary, my original patron, mentor and nemesis. I was immensely happy to see him, but on my best behavior, because I know what happens if you misbehave in Gary’s presence. Not a good thing; you might be guilty of a minor offense, but he’ll make you feel like you’re the worst stupid dog in the universe. Maybe that’s why I turned out to be such a good dog! I jumped up on the couch next to him, and he petted me and let me know that he was really glad to see me. Maybe I should explain to those who are not fully familiar with the family that Gary is Geri’s youngest pup, from her second (and last) litter of one. I introduced you to her oldest on the last trip, when I unfortunately referred to him and his wife, Jane, as “jerks” because of their lack of communication skills when we were rendezvousing in Tennessee. So, now you’re all up to date.
Gary, Geri and Don soon left me to watch TV while they went out to dinner. They returned a couple of hours later groaning about the unreasonable quantity of food that Gary forced them to eat, things like mussels, salmon, and brook trout. I would not have complained.
Let me tell you about the RV Park; I remember it from a couple of years ago when we stayed here, and it’s very nice. All of the sites are located around a lake, which is home to a whole lot of ducks and geese, who I love to terrorize. Not that I’d ever hurt one, I just like to tease them, sort of show them who the Big Dog is. There’s a big grassy area set aside for dogs to roam in, and some woodsy trails for walking. Really, a pleasant place with a nice lake; maybe that’s why they call it Lake Pleasant! We’ll be reporting from here for about a week, while we consort with Gary, Craig, Jane, Carol and Mikey. Should be fun!
Travel days are always marked by big flurries of activity in the morning, getting ready to get underway, followed by long hours of boredom, otherwise known as nap time. We usually get a rest stop during the day’s trip, giving me an opportunity to sniff out some new flora and maybe chase some fauna. On arrival at our destination RV Park, there’s another flurry of motion to set up the rig for our stay there. Geri then takes me for an orientation walk around the park, while Don fixes dinner. It was all going according to routine this time, except Don was still fussing with the satellite antenna when Geri and I got back from our walk, with no dinner fixings in sight. I sensed that we were awaiting a visitor, and I soon found out I was right; who should show up at the door of the coach but Gary, my original patron, mentor and nemesis. I was immensely happy to see him, but on my best behavior, because I know what happens if you misbehave in Gary’s presence. Not a good thing; you might be guilty of a minor offense, but he’ll make you feel like you’re the worst stupid dog in the universe. Maybe that’s why I turned out to be such a good dog! I jumped up on the couch next to him, and he petted me and let me know that he was really glad to see me. Maybe I should explain to those who are not fully familiar with the family that Gary is Geri’s youngest pup, from her second (and last) litter of one. I introduced you to her oldest on the last trip, when I unfortunately referred to him and his wife, Jane, as “jerks” because of their lack of communication skills when we were rendezvousing in Tennessee. So, now you’re all up to date.
Gary, Geri and Don soon left me to watch TV while they went out to dinner. They returned a couple of hours later groaning about the unreasonable quantity of food that Gary forced them to eat, things like mussels, salmon, and brook trout. I would not have complained.
Let me tell you about the RV Park; I remember it from a couple of years ago when we stayed here, and it’s very nice. All of the sites are located around a lake, which is home to a whole lot of ducks and geese, who I love to terrorize. Not that I’d ever hurt one, I just like to tease them, sort of show them who the Big Dog is. There’s a big grassy area set aside for dogs to roam in, and some woodsy trails for walking. Really, a pleasant place with a nice lake; maybe that’s why they call it Lake Pleasant! We’ll be reporting from here for about a week, while we consort with Gary, Craig, Jane, Carol and Mikey. Should be fun!
Monday, September 7, 2009
September 7, 2009 – McMinnville, OR
Lots of action today, moving here and there, in and out of the truck. After breakfast, Don put me in the truck and took me to a huge park in McMinnville, acres and acres of beautiful green grass, just made for running and rolling. I was off like a shot, running like the wind (well, maybe a strong breeze), stopping only for a quick roll in the grass, which was pretty wet. Soon, so was I. Didn’t bother me, I was loving it. I eventually stopped to wait for Don, and he caught up with me just as a guy running with his dog showed up. The dog was a really nice yellow Lab, and the guy had moved here from Los Angeles 30 years ago. He told us about another park near our place, just across the street from us at the airport. He said it had some nice trails, and was perfect for a good morning walk. Don said we’d try it tomorrow. I finally ran myself ragged, and we headed back to the truck.
When we got back to the rig, we had lunch and waited for Geri to get ready to go. We piled back into the truck and headed out on a tour of some of the interesting spots nearby. We spied a produce stand called Farmer John’s, and loaded up on corn, green peppers and fruit. Then began a search for a natural feature that Don had discovered on Google Earth, a rock. Not just any rock, a very special rock. He took a wrong turn and we spent a bunch of miles looking for it where it wasn’t. We finally went back to Farmer John’s and Geri asked one of the teen-aged girls who work there where this rock was. She knew exactly where it was, and gave Geri directions. When Geri got back in the truck, the girl came up to us and asked why Don couldn’t have asked for the way to get there. Don just grumbled “Because I’m a guy!” She gave Geri an understanding look. I don’t know what the big deal is, I never ask for directions either. Anyway, we found the path to the rock, which turned out to be kind of steep at the end of it, resulting in Don having to tow Geri up the hill while she held on to his belt. But we finally wound up at the rock. The reason this rock is so special is that it’s about 300 million years old, and was transported here in an iceberg that floated down the Columbia and Willamette Rivers during one of the Missoula Dam floods about twenty thousand years ago. I am not going to try to convert these to dog years, it’s too much. I’m sure Don will include a photo of the rock, but you won’t see me on it; no easy way to get up there. On the way back down from the rock, Geri and Don picked some blackberries off some wild vines, and carried them in one of my (unused) poop bags. I found a gaggle of geese near the fence along the path, and sent them scattering with a wild charge; felt good.
Back in the truck, we headed down the road to a little town called Amity. Don decided that he wanted to visit one of the wineries that are all over this area; Don says they’ve got more wineries than the Napa Valley here. We chugged up a hill on a dirt road to the Amity Winery, and they went into the tasting room to load up on vino. They came out with a big box about a half hour later; I think they contributed to the local economy. We headed back toward McMinnville, by way of another little town called Dayton, where Don needed a picture of an old fort that had been moved here eons ago. Why, I have no idea. We wound up back in downtown McMinnville, and took a walk through the main street area. On a street corner, there was a statue of a guy sitting on a bench, with a book on his lap. Geri sat down next to him, and Don got a picture of me looking at him. Another couple stopped to look at the statue, and asked Don why McMinnville needed a statue of Benjamin Franklin sitting on a bench. Don replied that it was because they couldn’t find a statue of Mr. McMinn to put there. That seemed to satisfy them. Anyway, Geri and Don both thought that McMinnville was pretty neat, though Geri observed that, again, Don had taken her on a tour of upscale shops when they were all closed. Don could not argue that fact. I know that it happens frequently, and it is probably not accidental.
We went back to the rig, Don cooked up some stir-fry for dinner, and Geri did some laundry. A little TV, a little blogging, and so to bed. Travel day tomorrow, up and at it early!
Lots of action today, moving here and there, in and out of the truck. After breakfast, Don put me in the truck and took me to a huge park in McMinnville, acres and acres of beautiful green grass, just made for running and rolling. I was off like a shot, running like the wind (well, maybe a strong breeze), stopping only for a quick roll in the grass, which was pretty wet. Soon, so was I. Didn’t bother me, I was loving it. I eventually stopped to wait for Don, and he caught up with me just as a guy running with his dog showed up. The dog was a really nice yellow Lab, and the guy had moved here from Los Angeles 30 years ago. He told us about another park near our place, just across the street from us at the airport. He said it had some nice trails, and was perfect for a good morning walk. Don said we’d try it tomorrow. I finally ran myself ragged, and we headed back to the truck.
When we got back to the rig, we had lunch and waited for Geri to get ready to go. We piled back into the truck and headed out on a tour of some of the interesting spots nearby. We spied a produce stand called Farmer John’s, and loaded up on corn, green peppers and fruit. Then began a search for a natural feature that Don had discovered on Google Earth, a rock. Not just any rock, a very special rock. He took a wrong turn and we spent a bunch of miles looking for it where it wasn’t. We finally went back to Farmer John’s and Geri asked one of the teen-aged girls who work there where this rock was. She knew exactly where it was, and gave Geri directions. When Geri got back in the truck, the girl came up to us and asked why Don couldn’t have asked for the way to get there. Don just grumbled “Because I’m a guy!” She gave Geri an understanding look. I don’t know what the big deal is, I never ask for directions either. Anyway, we found the path to the rock, which turned out to be kind of steep at the end of it, resulting in Don having to tow Geri up the hill while she held on to his belt. But we finally wound up at the rock. The reason this rock is so special is that it’s about 300 million years old, and was transported here in an iceberg that floated down the Columbia and Willamette Rivers during one of the Missoula Dam floods about twenty thousand years ago. I am not going to try to convert these to dog years, it’s too much. I’m sure Don will include a photo of the rock, but you won’t see me on it; no easy way to get up there. On the way back down from the rock, Geri and Don picked some blackberries off some wild vines, and carried them in one of my (unused) poop bags. I found a gaggle of geese near the fence along the path, and sent them scattering with a wild charge; felt good.
Back in the truck, we headed down the road to a little town called Amity. Don decided that he wanted to visit one of the wineries that are all over this area; Don says they’ve got more wineries than the Napa Valley here. We chugged up a hill on a dirt road to the Amity Winery, and they went into the tasting room to load up on vino. They came out with a big box about a half hour later; I think they contributed to the local economy. We headed back toward McMinnville, by way of another little town called Dayton, where Don needed a picture of an old fort that had been moved here eons ago. Why, I have no idea. We wound up back in downtown McMinnville, and took a walk through the main street area. On a street corner, there was a statue of a guy sitting on a bench, with a book on his lap. Geri sat down next to him, and Don got a picture of me looking at him. Another couple stopped to look at the statue, and asked Don why McMinnville needed a statue of Benjamin Franklin sitting on a bench. Don replied that it was because they couldn’t find a statue of Mr. McMinn to put there. That seemed to satisfy them. Anyway, Geri and Don both thought that McMinnville was pretty neat, though Geri observed that, again, Don had taken her on a tour of upscale shops when they were all closed. Don could not argue that fact. I know that it happens frequently, and it is probably not accidental.
We went back to the rig, Don cooked up some stir-fry for dinner, and Geri did some laundry. A little TV, a little blogging, and so to bed. Travel day tomorrow, up and at it early!
Sunday, September 6, 2009
September 6, 2009 – McMinnville, OR
Nothing helps us sleep soundly more than the pitter patter of rain on the rig’s roof. But, once we’re up and around, that same sound keeps us virtual prisoners in the coach. I got up around eight again, and Don insisted that I fetch the phony news in the pouring rain. Actually, the rain doesn’t bother me nearly as much as it does them, ‘cause they’ve got no fur coat to keep it off your skin for awhile. And the cookies are always welcome. After I had breakfast, I went back to bed, because I knew there wasn’t going to be any outdoor action anytime soon. About ten, Don started to get worried about my bathroom needs, so he put on his coat and took me out to the field in the rain. We got drenched, but my needs were fulfilled. Don had to get a big towel and dry me off when we got back into the coach. Twenty minutes later, the sun was shining brightly.
We had an early lunch, and then got in the truck and headed down to Salem to do some sightseeing and shopping. We were about halfway there when Geri got a call from Jan, who invited us to her house for a spaghetti feed. We never turn down an offer of pasta. Jan was cooking a batch of her own sauce recipe, and we couldn’t pass that up, so Geri told her we’d head up to Hillsboro after we finished our shopping in Salem. We got into town and found the stores we were looking for (with the help of Garmie II), including a Petco to get some food for me. Very important! We stopped at the State Capitol grounds so that I could get some exercise, so I did some rolling and running and chased a few squirrels. Just as we were turning around to head back to the truck, the heavens opened and dumped a ton of rain on us, giving us a good soaking. Who knew it rained so much in Oregon!
So, we soggily headed north to Hillsboro, about an hour’s drive, which gave us time to dry out a bit before arriving at Jan’s. She was pleased to see me, and told me that she thought that I was a very good dog. Proves she’s not blind. Jan finished the dinner preparations, while Don explained to me that they were eating earlier than usual, and that I would have to wait until they finished their meal before I got dinner, so as not to disrupt my normal feeding schedule. He knows that I like things done on a regular schedule, but I thought that maybe this was one time we could make an exception. No deal. I had to lay there and watch them eat on an empty stomach. But I knew there were going to be plates, and maybe a sauce pot, after they finished. But it was not to be. I watched, unbelievingly, as Jan carried the plates to the sink to rinse them before putting them in the dishwasher! I looked at Don for an explanation, and he just shrugged, like it was out of his hands. I must have looked extremely agitated, because Don told me to go downstairs with him and out to the front porch. It was sprinkling again, so I stayed on the porch and watched Don as he went to the truck and opened the bag of my food that they had just bought. He poured a liberal amount into my water bowl, and then added some water from my jug. I raced down from the porch to be of assistance, but he didn’t need any help, and fed me a very respectable dinner on the porch. I was mollified.
As we were getting ready to leave, Jan gave Don a big envelope of old photos of their families that her mother had collected for him to scan into his computer. There’s a bunch of them! Geri programmed Garmie II to take us back to McMinnville, and we headed out. We soon found ourselves on a very scenic mountain road, looking down into the Willamette Valley, where we thought we should be. After a lot of twisting and turning, we finally wound up at our RV Park. Don checked the route when we got to the rig, a found that it was really the shortest way home, but certainly the slowest. Got to find a way to talk to Garmie about this. Geri took me out for a short walk, and we met the guy with the nice brown dog that Don and I had talked to yesterday. Back at the rig, we watched some TV, worked on the blog, and hit the pillows. See you tomorrow!
Nothing helps us sleep soundly more than the pitter patter of rain on the rig’s roof. But, once we’re up and around, that same sound keeps us virtual prisoners in the coach. I got up around eight again, and Don insisted that I fetch the phony news in the pouring rain. Actually, the rain doesn’t bother me nearly as much as it does them, ‘cause they’ve got no fur coat to keep it off your skin for awhile. And the cookies are always welcome. After I had breakfast, I went back to bed, because I knew there wasn’t going to be any outdoor action anytime soon. About ten, Don started to get worried about my bathroom needs, so he put on his coat and took me out to the field in the rain. We got drenched, but my needs were fulfilled. Don had to get a big towel and dry me off when we got back into the coach. Twenty minutes later, the sun was shining brightly.
We had an early lunch, and then got in the truck and headed down to Salem to do some sightseeing and shopping. We were about halfway there when Geri got a call from Jan, who invited us to her house for a spaghetti feed. We never turn down an offer of pasta. Jan was cooking a batch of her own sauce recipe, and we couldn’t pass that up, so Geri told her we’d head up to Hillsboro after we finished our shopping in Salem. We got into town and found the stores we were looking for (with the help of Garmie II), including a Petco to get some food for me. Very important! We stopped at the State Capitol grounds so that I could get some exercise, so I did some rolling and running and chased a few squirrels. Just as we were turning around to head back to the truck, the heavens opened and dumped a ton of rain on us, giving us a good soaking. Who knew it rained so much in Oregon!
So, we soggily headed north to Hillsboro, about an hour’s drive, which gave us time to dry out a bit before arriving at Jan’s. She was pleased to see me, and told me that she thought that I was a very good dog. Proves she’s not blind. Jan finished the dinner preparations, while Don explained to me that they were eating earlier than usual, and that I would have to wait until they finished their meal before I got dinner, so as not to disrupt my normal feeding schedule. He knows that I like things done on a regular schedule, but I thought that maybe this was one time we could make an exception. No deal. I had to lay there and watch them eat on an empty stomach. But I knew there were going to be plates, and maybe a sauce pot, after they finished. But it was not to be. I watched, unbelievingly, as Jan carried the plates to the sink to rinse them before putting them in the dishwasher! I looked at Don for an explanation, and he just shrugged, like it was out of his hands. I must have looked extremely agitated, because Don told me to go downstairs with him and out to the front porch. It was sprinkling again, so I stayed on the porch and watched Don as he went to the truck and opened the bag of my food that they had just bought. He poured a liberal amount into my water bowl, and then added some water from my jug. I raced down from the porch to be of assistance, but he didn’t need any help, and fed me a very respectable dinner on the porch. I was mollified.
As we were getting ready to leave, Jan gave Don a big envelope of old photos of their families that her mother had collected for him to scan into his computer. There’s a bunch of them! Geri programmed Garmie II to take us back to McMinnville, and we headed out. We soon found ourselves on a very scenic mountain road, looking down into the Willamette Valley, where we thought we should be. After a lot of twisting and turning, we finally wound up at our RV Park. Don checked the route when we got to the rig, a found that it was really the shortest way home, but certainly the slowest. Got to find a way to talk to Garmie about this. Geri took me out for a short walk, and we met the guy with the nice brown dog that Don and I had talked to yesterday. Back at the rig, we watched some TV, worked on the blog, and hit the pillows. See you tomorrow!
Saturday, September 5, 2009
September 5, 2009 – McMinnville, OR
Not really a red-letter day for me, but not a bad one, either. We all had a very relaxed morning, except for Don, who had to do a tank dump in the rain, but that’s his job. Don and I had a short and rainy walk out to the field between the RV Park and the Aviation Museum, where I took care of my business expediently, and we made our way back to the rig rapidly. At eleven on the dot, just when she said she would, Don’s cousin Jan arrived. She’s one of Don’s favorite cousins, even if she is a liberal. I brought her a toy, as is my custom for greeting visitors, and she was pleased with it. We all sat around and visited, catching up on what was going on in our lives, with a lot of attention paid to me, which was appropriate. Don gave me my lunch, and then they got their coats on and headed for Jan’s car, leaving me to my napping, which I probably needed.
They were gone until nearly five; Jan left for home after bidding me a proper goodbye, and Don and Geri told me about where they had been, which was the Evergreen Aviation Museum, next door to us. They had nothing but good things to say about the place, and they were really pleased with the number of aircraft the Museum had on display and the quality of information on each of the exhibits. The Museum’s big draw, apparently, was the Howard Hughes seaplane transport, known as the “Spruce Goose”. Don and Geri had visited the plane many years ago when it was on display in Long Beach, next to the Queen Mary, the ship that they were mated on. From their description, it sounds really big. They also saw a SR-71 “Blackbird”, the fastest airplane ever built, which they had heard breaking the sound barrier back in the Eighties, when it made a record-breaking flight from the Pacific Coast to the Atlantic in forty-six minutes. They said that Jan really enjoyed the Museum too, and it was a good afternoon for all of them.
Don took me back to the field where we had gone this morning, where we met a man with a very nice brown dog that they had rescued from a pound. He was from Sacramento, and they had been touring western Canada for several weeks. The man said that he was starting to feel nervous about driving the motorhome, and was thinking about giving it up. Don and I were both sad to hear that, but we knew that this eventually happened to all RV’ers, and would someday happen to us.
Later in the evening, I pestered Geri into taking me out for a walk, as my day isn’t complete unless I spend some time one-on-one with her. She took me for a nice stroll, then spent a lot of time combing some of my excess fur out of my coat. She got enough to make someone a really nice sweater! A little TV, some blogging, and off to bed. See ya tomorrow!
Not really a red-letter day for me, but not a bad one, either. We all had a very relaxed morning, except for Don, who had to do a tank dump in the rain, but that’s his job. Don and I had a short and rainy walk out to the field between the RV Park and the Aviation Museum, where I took care of my business expediently, and we made our way back to the rig rapidly. At eleven on the dot, just when she said she would, Don’s cousin Jan arrived. She’s one of Don’s favorite cousins, even if she is a liberal. I brought her a toy, as is my custom for greeting visitors, and she was pleased with it. We all sat around and visited, catching up on what was going on in our lives, with a lot of attention paid to me, which was appropriate. Don gave me my lunch, and then they got their coats on and headed for Jan’s car, leaving me to my napping, which I probably needed.
They were gone until nearly five; Jan left for home after bidding me a proper goodbye, and Don and Geri told me about where they had been, which was the Evergreen Aviation Museum, next door to us. They had nothing but good things to say about the place, and they were really pleased with the number of aircraft the Museum had on display and the quality of information on each of the exhibits. The Museum’s big draw, apparently, was the Howard Hughes seaplane transport, known as the “Spruce Goose”. Don and Geri had visited the plane many years ago when it was on display in Long Beach, next to the Queen Mary, the ship that they were mated on. From their description, it sounds really big. They also saw a SR-71 “Blackbird”, the fastest airplane ever built, which they had heard breaking the sound barrier back in the Eighties, when it made a record-breaking flight from the Pacific Coast to the Atlantic in forty-six minutes. They said that Jan really enjoyed the Museum too, and it was a good afternoon for all of them.
Don took me back to the field where we had gone this morning, where we met a man with a very nice brown dog that they had rescued from a pound. He was from Sacramento, and they had been touring western Canada for several weeks. The man said that he was starting to feel nervous about driving the motorhome, and was thinking about giving it up. Don and I were both sad to hear that, but we knew that this eventually happened to all RV’ers, and would someday happen to us.
Later in the evening, I pestered Geri into taking me out for a walk, as my day isn’t complete unless I spend some time one-on-one with her. She took me for a nice stroll, then spent a lot of time combing some of my excess fur out of my coat. She got enough to make someone a really nice sweater! A little TV, some blogging, and off to bed. See ya tomorrow!
Friday, September 4, 2009
September 4, 2009 – McMinnville, OR
Pulled a good one on Don this morning. He got up at his normal six o’clock, while I, as a result of two strenuous days in a row, decided to sleep in. By eight, he couldn’t bear it without my company and he got the phony paper to toss out on the ground. By the time he had the door open, I was at his side, and I scampered down the steps as he threw the fake news. I put on a little act, went over to the grass, relieved my bladder, and showed total disinterest in retrieving his rolled-up little piece of litter. Instead, I sauntered back toward the steps, stopped, inserted a paw under the lower step, and fished out the real, true, newspaper that had been delivered by the Park people. Picking it up gingerly, not to cause any damage, I raced up the steps to make my presentation. He was choking and gasping. I was afraid that I had done real damage to him. But he actually was laughing as he took the paper from me, and gave me one more cookie than usual. Made my day.
Once Geri arose, most of the rest of the morning was spent cleaning up the rig and getting ready to depart. We were hooking up the truck near the office, when a lady with another Goldie came along to talk to us. The Goldie was a nice guy, and very friendly, but I was wondering why he hadn’t called the SPCA to report that he was being starved! The poor dog couldn’t have weighed more than fifty pounds, a little more than half what I do. Well, he wasn’t quite as tall as I am, either, and he certainly didn’t have my manly chest. Or my graceful tail plume, though it doesn’t weigh all that much. Maybe he was the runt of the litter. Well, I’m not going to lose nap time over it.
We headed up 101 until we hit the 18 highway, headed for McMinnville, just maybe forty miles away. Didn’t take long to get there, nice road, little traffic. Don had programmed our replacement Garmie to guide us to this fairly easy location, and she passed the test easily. Just after noon, we pulled into Olde Stone Village RV Resort and got assigned to a very nice pull-through site. This is a really nice RV Park, with grass at every site, and all of the sites are really big, so you’re not cheek-to-cheek with your neighbor. We have a Monaco Signature next to us, a huge silver colored beast with the license plate “TINKAN”. Their toad is a big GMC SUV. They have two satellite antennas, one in the front and one in the back. Don pointed this out to Geri, and asked why she thought they needed two antennas. Geri responded that obviously they didn’t like watching the same programs. Don had to admit that she was probably right.
We spent a lot of time reorganizing the basement area, and tossing out some stuff that was no longer useful. Don got Geri’s bike out, but it needed air in the tires, and he had already dumped the air in the tanks, so they have to take it to a service station. They were looking for the corner tabs that hold down the front window covers, but they were very elusive. We still don’t know where they are, so we may have try to buy some new ones. I really like this Park, the grass is super, the weather is great, and I’m just really happy here. We took a ride to downtown McMinnville, and were surprised to find a really attractive, historic main street area, very alive with shops and restaurants under the shade of some beautiful old trees. I think we’re going to enjoy our weekend here. We have a Fly-In at the airport across the road tomorrow, the Evergreen Aircraft Museum next door to us, and Don’s cousin Jan is coming down tomorrow to spend the day with us. Sounds like fun to me!
Pulled a good one on Don this morning. He got up at his normal six o’clock, while I, as a result of two strenuous days in a row, decided to sleep in. By eight, he couldn’t bear it without my company and he got the phony paper to toss out on the ground. By the time he had the door open, I was at his side, and I scampered down the steps as he threw the fake news. I put on a little act, went over to the grass, relieved my bladder, and showed total disinterest in retrieving his rolled-up little piece of litter. Instead, I sauntered back toward the steps, stopped, inserted a paw under the lower step, and fished out the real, true, newspaper that had been delivered by the Park people. Picking it up gingerly, not to cause any damage, I raced up the steps to make my presentation. He was choking and gasping. I was afraid that I had done real damage to him. But he actually was laughing as he took the paper from me, and gave me one more cookie than usual. Made my day.
Once Geri arose, most of the rest of the morning was spent cleaning up the rig and getting ready to depart. We were hooking up the truck near the office, when a lady with another Goldie came along to talk to us. The Goldie was a nice guy, and very friendly, but I was wondering why he hadn’t called the SPCA to report that he was being starved! The poor dog couldn’t have weighed more than fifty pounds, a little more than half what I do. Well, he wasn’t quite as tall as I am, either, and he certainly didn’t have my manly chest. Or my graceful tail plume, though it doesn’t weigh all that much. Maybe he was the runt of the litter. Well, I’m not going to lose nap time over it.
We headed up 101 until we hit the 18 highway, headed for McMinnville, just maybe forty miles away. Didn’t take long to get there, nice road, little traffic. Don had programmed our replacement Garmie to guide us to this fairly easy location, and she passed the test easily. Just after noon, we pulled into Olde Stone Village RV Resort and got assigned to a very nice pull-through site. This is a really nice RV Park, with grass at every site, and all of the sites are really big, so you’re not cheek-to-cheek with your neighbor. We have a Monaco Signature next to us, a huge silver colored beast with the license plate “TINKAN”. Their toad is a big GMC SUV. They have two satellite antennas, one in the front and one in the back. Don pointed this out to Geri, and asked why she thought they needed two antennas. Geri responded that obviously they didn’t like watching the same programs. Don had to admit that she was probably right.
We spent a lot of time reorganizing the basement area, and tossing out some stuff that was no longer useful. Don got Geri’s bike out, but it needed air in the tires, and he had already dumped the air in the tanks, so they have to take it to a service station. They were looking for the corner tabs that hold down the front window covers, but they were very elusive. We still don’t know where they are, so we may have try to buy some new ones. I really like this Park, the grass is super, the weather is great, and I’m just really happy here. We took a ride to downtown McMinnville, and were surprised to find a really attractive, historic main street area, very alive with shops and restaurants under the shade of some beautiful old trees. I think we’re going to enjoy our weekend here. We have a Fly-In at the airport across the road tomorrow, the Evergreen Aircraft Museum next door to us, and Don’s cousin Jan is coming down tomorrow to spend the day with us. Sounds like fun to me!
Thursday, September 3, 2009
September 3, 2009 – Lincoln City, OR
Big day, lots of action, pretty much all good. Started great, ‘cause I got my cookies for the phony paper retrieval, then got another two when a real paper showed up, courtesy of the RV Park. OK! Geri and Don had come to the conclusion that I hadn’t been getting enough exercise recently, so Don volunteered to take me down to the beach, where he knows I’ll do a lot of running. Well, we both got more than we bargained for. The beach wasn’t that far away horizontally, but vertically was another matter. We found a stairway that went down, and down, and down to the beach, and finally we were walking on sand. Soon, I was parading through the surf line, getting my toes wet, and doing some crazy dog runs. I don’t think I’ll ever understand why Buddy, my mentor, always went absolutely wild whenever we were at the beach. Yeah, the wave action is exciting, and the sounds are different and stimulating, but it’s really not enough to make me want to dive into the surf to retrieve some stupid dummy that Don’s thrown out there. Besides, I don’t like retrieving that much anyway. So call me a renegade retriever; I don’t care. But the beach is fun, and I do like to run on the sand, and it is great exercise for me.
So we walked down the beach, meeting a lot of people who immediately liked me and wanted to pet me, which made my day. Don was looking for a stairway to get us back up to the road home, and finally found one when we were about a half mile down the beach. The stairway he found led to another, higher, stairway, which led to another stairway, which led to a road that was very steep. I’m saying that by the time we got up to a street we could get back to the RV Park on, we had done a lot of climbing. I was panting, and Don was complaining of leg cramps. Once we got back to the rig, we both collapsed for awhile. After a bit, we all got in the truck and did some touring of Lincoln City. We found a little elevated walk over a swampy area that led us to an RV Park on Devil’s Lake; that was kind of fun. We drove down to the north end of town, and then turned back to drive along the beach front. There’s a lot of motels, bed-and-breakfasts, and guest cottages in this place; Don says it’s one of the closest places to Portland for people to visit the beach for a weekend or a vacation. We headed on south down the 101, stopping at some of the overlooks that we couldn’t stop at yesterday because we were in the coach. I’m not the biggest scenery nut in the world, but I had to admit that most of the views were really impressive. We wound up in a little burg called Depoe Bay, where they parked in back of a restaurant and went in to have lunch. Geri finally came out and got me out of the truck, and took me around to the front of the restaurant, where I was surprised to meet some old friends; Robyn and Bob, from Paradise Valley, Arizona, Gwendy and Archie’s folks! Turns out they’re staying down in Newport, and Geri and Don found this out from a comment on this blog! I was pleased to provide the vehicle that got them together! They were both very appreciative of me, but I was sorry that they didn’t have their dogs with them; they’re both great dogs, though Archie is a little excitable at times. We walked around Depoe Bay for awhile, then we got back in the truck and went a little further south down the 101 to visit a few more viewpoints. One of them was on a bluff 500 feet above the ocean, Don told me. Cool. Lots of people, lots of petting.
We finally headed back to the rig, I had my dinner, and Geri went shopping at the local Tanger outlet stores. Don worked on organizing photos, which I hope he’ll start posting on my blog; it looks kind of silly with me talking about Oregon with photos of Hoover Dam alongside. We’re heading out tomorrow, a short trip to McMinnville, where we’ve never been. Don says the RV Park there is supposed to be really nice. I’ll give you a full report tomorrow!
Big day, lots of action, pretty much all good. Started great, ‘cause I got my cookies for the phony paper retrieval, then got another two when a real paper showed up, courtesy of the RV Park. OK! Geri and Don had come to the conclusion that I hadn’t been getting enough exercise recently, so Don volunteered to take me down to the beach, where he knows I’ll do a lot of running. Well, we both got more than we bargained for. The beach wasn’t that far away horizontally, but vertically was another matter. We found a stairway that went down, and down, and down to the beach, and finally we were walking on sand. Soon, I was parading through the surf line, getting my toes wet, and doing some crazy dog runs. I don’t think I’ll ever understand why Buddy, my mentor, always went absolutely wild whenever we were at the beach. Yeah, the wave action is exciting, and the sounds are different and stimulating, but it’s really not enough to make me want to dive into the surf to retrieve some stupid dummy that Don’s thrown out there. Besides, I don’t like retrieving that much anyway. So call me a renegade retriever; I don’t care. But the beach is fun, and I do like to run on the sand, and it is great exercise for me.
So we walked down the beach, meeting a lot of people who immediately liked me and wanted to pet me, which made my day. Don was looking for a stairway to get us back up to the road home, and finally found one when we were about a half mile down the beach. The stairway he found led to another, higher, stairway, which led to another stairway, which led to a road that was very steep. I’m saying that by the time we got up to a street we could get back to the RV Park on, we had done a lot of climbing. I was panting, and Don was complaining of leg cramps. Once we got back to the rig, we both collapsed for awhile. After a bit, we all got in the truck and did some touring of Lincoln City. We found a little elevated walk over a swampy area that led us to an RV Park on Devil’s Lake; that was kind of fun. We drove down to the north end of town, and then turned back to drive along the beach front. There’s a lot of motels, bed-and-breakfasts, and guest cottages in this place; Don says it’s one of the closest places to Portland for people to visit the beach for a weekend or a vacation. We headed on south down the 101, stopping at some of the overlooks that we couldn’t stop at yesterday because we were in the coach. I’m not the biggest scenery nut in the world, but I had to admit that most of the views were really impressive. We wound up in a little burg called Depoe Bay, where they parked in back of a restaurant and went in to have lunch. Geri finally came out and got me out of the truck, and took me around to the front of the restaurant, where I was surprised to meet some old friends; Robyn and Bob, from Paradise Valley, Arizona, Gwendy and Archie’s folks! Turns out they’re staying down in Newport, and Geri and Don found this out from a comment on this blog! I was pleased to provide the vehicle that got them together! They were both very appreciative of me, but I was sorry that they didn’t have their dogs with them; they’re both great dogs, though Archie is a little excitable at times. We walked around Depoe Bay for awhile, then we got back in the truck and went a little further south down the 101 to visit a few more viewpoints. One of them was on a bluff 500 feet above the ocean, Don told me. Cool. Lots of people, lots of petting.
We finally headed back to the rig, I had my dinner, and Geri went shopping at the local Tanger outlet stores. Don worked on organizing photos, which I hope he’ll start posting on my blog; it looks kind of silly with me talking about Oregon with photos of Hoover Dam alongside. We’re heading out tomorrow, a short trip to McMinnville, where we’ve never been. Don says the RV Park there is supposed to be really nice. I’ll give you a full report tomorrow!
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
September 2, 2009 – Lincoln City, OR
Not a real rouser of a day, but travel days rarely are. Geri went shopping in the morning, and I hung with Don while he did some cleanup work on the rig’s exterior. We hauled out of Coos Bay about noon, and headed over one of Oregon’s spectacular coastal bridges, all built about seventy years ago and designed by the same guy. They even named this one after him, the McCullough Memorial Bridge.
I told you recently that Garmie’s days were numbered; well, I was right- Geri came back from her shopping trip with a new, bigger, more competent GPS unit, which Don promptly installed in Garmie’s place. He was pleased to see that it reported that we were driving on US 101, rather than walking on it, as Garmie was inclined to do.
As we headed north, the road got to be very windey, which Geri and I both dislike. As Geri had laid down for a nap, I took it upon myself to complain to Don concerning the road conditions; I got the same derisive treatment that Geri always does when she complains. I did look out the window for awhile, and saw that the scenery was quite lovely.
We got into Lincoln City in the late afternoon, and checked into a RV Park owned by the same company that has the Park that we like to stay in at Redding. We got a back-in spot, but we had a guide to help us park the rig, so I didn’t get to see Geri directing the choir. Geri took me for a walk and made me chase a stupid ball and run a bit, which is OK, she doesn’t make me do it that often. Don cooked up some lamb chops, which we all enjoyed. Movie watching, blog writing, and so to bed. Maybe some excitement tomorrow. See ya!
Not a real rouser of a day, but travel days rarely are. Geri went shopping in the morning, and I hung with Don while he did some cleanup work on the rig’s exterior. We hauled out of Coos Bay about noon, and headed over one of Oregon’s spectacular coastal bridges, all built about seventy years ago and designed by the same guy. They even named this one after him, the McCullough Memorial Bridge.
I told you recently that Garmie’s days were numbered; well, I was right- Geri came back from her shopping trip with a new, bigger, more competent GPS unit, which Don promptly installed in Garmie’s place. He was pleased to see that it reported that we were driving on US 101, rather than walking on it, as Garmie was inclined to do.
As we headed north, the road got to be very windey, which Geri and I both dislike. As Geri had laid down for a nap, I took it upon myself to complain to Don concerning the road conditions; I got the same derisive treatment that Geri always does when she complains. I did look out the window for awhile, and saw that the scenery was quite lovely.
We got into Lincoln City in the late afternoon, and checked into a RV Park owned by the same company that has the Park that we like to stay in at Redding. We got a back-in spot, but we had a guide to help us park the rig, so I didn’t get to see Geri directing the choir. Geri took me for a walk and made me chase a stupid ball and run a bit, which is OK, she doesn’t make me do it that often. Don cooked up some lamb chops, which we all enjoyed. Movie watching, blog writing, and so to bed. Maybe some excitement tomorrow. See ya!
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
September 1, 2009 – Coos Bay, OR
Hi, folks! Sorry I missed posting last night, but it was kind of a nothing day anyway. We pulled up stakes at Seven Feathers, fueled up and headed west across the mountains to Coos Bay. Once we arrived and got set up, the activities were mostly housekeeping and food (not that the last is not important). We all crashed pretty early.
Today was pretty high energy for Don and I, at least the morning was. Geri took the day off, and Don and I headed for the State Parks on the coast. We stopped first at a little cove with a nice beach, that was sheltered from the surf by some reefs outside the cove. But there were still some small waves washing ashore, which I found strangely stimulating. I don’t know what got into me, but I got the urge to do crazy dog runs up and down the beach, venturing a little into the water occasionally, and retreating rapidly when one of the little waves broke. I even found myself barking at the waves! I’d run down the beach just in front of the water line, until I heard Don yelling at me to come back; then I’d head for him at full speed, threatening to collide with him, but veering off at the last second. I think I really scared him. Ha! Ha! I finally wore myself out, and Don took me back to the truck, where I could barely jump in. We went up the road to an outlook area, which had a fine view of the ocean and a lot of rocks offshore. The rocks were all inhabited! There was a huge number of big, grey animals laying around on the rocks, and they were all making barking sounds, but not dog barking. It’s like they were all talking at the same time, like women on a TV talk show! Not that I regularly watch those. Don told me that they were sea lions, and they were all male. They leave their wives down south this time of year and come up north for a male bonding kind of thing, and I guess they all have stories to tell each other. I’m glad dogs don’t have to do that. We got back in the truck and went a little further down the road, where we found a path that took us down much closer to the water and the sea lions. The path was very steep, and Don had to restrain me on the leash going down. After listening to the sea lions for awhile, we headed back up the path; it was steeper going up that it was going down, and I walked next to Don all the way.
We headed back to town, making a stop at Yoakam Point, which is a mystery to Don as to how it got it’s name. He gave me some lunch there, which pleased me terrifically. We stopped in the little fishing village of Charleston, where Don bought some smoked salmon for his lunch, and went back to the rig. After he had his salmon, he invited me to come with him for some further adventures, but I respectfully declined; nap time was definitely a priority. I got my napping in, and hung out with Geri while she did some housekeeping work. Don came back around four, loaded with fresh oysters and other ingredients. H e had gone to a little village on the north end of the bay, called Glasgow. He had to check it out, because that was his Grandmother’s maiden name and he is always on the genealogy kick. He talked to a clerk in a grocery there, who had no idea how the town got its name, but told him that they were visited this year by a Scotsman who was touring the U.S. to visit every town called Glasgow. I guess that’s kind of interesting.
So, Don cooked up some tempura-style oysters, green beans and zucchini, which they seemed to enjoy. I must admit that the plates were tasty, and I even got part of an oyster; could be habit forming. I provided my input to the blog, and went to hang out with Geri, who was enjoying the evening outside, while Don slaved away at the computer. We’re out of here tomorrow, hear we’re headed for Lincoln City, another place we’ve not been before. Might be interesting!
Hi, folks! Sorry I missed posting last night, but it was kind of a nothing day anyway. We pulled up stakes at Seven Feathers, fueled up and headed west across the mountains to Coos Bay. Once we arrived and got set up, the activities were mostly housekeeping and food (not that the last is not important). We all crashed pretty early.
Today was pretty high energy for Don and I, at least the morning was. Geri took the day off, and Don and I headed for the State Parks on the coast. We stopped first at a little cove with a nice beach, that was sheltered from the surf by some reefs outside the cove. But there were still some small waves washing ashore, which I found strangely stimulating. I don’t know what got into me, but I got the urge to do crazy dog runs up and down the beach, venturing a little into the water occasionally, and retreating rapidly when one of the little waves broke. I even found myself barking at the waves! I’d run down the beach just in front of the water line, until I heard Don yelling at me to come back; then I’d head for him at full speed, threatening to collide with him, but veering off at the last second. I think I really scared him. Ha! Ha! I finally wore myself out, and Don took me back to the truck, where I could barely jump in. We went up the road to an outlook area, which had a fine view of the ocean and a lot of rocks offshore. The rocks were all inhabited! There was a huge number of big, grey animals laying around on the rocks, and they were all making barking sounds, but not dog barking. It’s like they were all talking at the same time, like women on a TV talk show! Not that I regularly watch those. Don told me that they were sea lions, and they were all male. They leave their wives down south this time of year and come up north for a male bonding kind of thing, and I guess they all have stories to tell each other. I’m glad dogs don’t have to do that. We got back in the truck and went a little further down the road, where we found a path that took us down much closer to the water and the sea lions. The path was very steep, and Don had to restrain me on the leash going down. After listening to the sea lions for awhile, we headed back up the path; it was steeper going up that it was going down, and I walked next to Don all the way.
We headed back to town, making a stop at Yoakam Point, which is a mystery to Don as to how it got it’s name. He gave me some lunch there, which pleased me terrifically. We stopped in the little fishing village of Charleston, where Don bought some smoked salmon for his lunch, and went back to the rig. After he had his salmon, he invited me to come with him for some further adventures, but I respectfully declined; nap time was definitely a priority. I got my napping in, and hung out with Geri while she did some housekeeping work. Don came back around four, loaded with fresh oysters and other ingredients. H e had gone to a little village on the north end of the bay, called Glasgow. He had to check it out, because that was his Grandmother’s maiden name and he is always on the genealogy kick. He talked to a clerk in a grocery there, who had no idea how the town got its name, but told him that they were visited this year by a Scotsman who was touring the U.S. to visit every town called Glasgow. I guess that’s kind of interesting.
So, Don cooked up some tempura-style oysters, green beans and zucchini, which they seemed to enjoy. I must admit that the plates were tasty, and I even got part of an oyster; could be habit forming. I provided my input to the blog, and went to hang out with Geri, who was enjoying the evening outside, while Don slaved away at the computer. We’re out of here tomorrow, hear we’re headed for Lincoln City, another place we’ve not been before. Might be interesting!
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