MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A VERY HAPPY NEW YEAR.
Sunday, November 02, 2003
IF IT'S NOVEMBER CAN THANKSGIVING BE FAR BEHIND?
I write this from Sarasota Florida where Ken and I have had two weeks of delightful visiting and hosting two wonderful guests. Our friend, Helen Holzaepfel spent a week with us. Helen and Bill formerly lived in the St Petersburg area, thus they have many friends and memories in this area. We enjoyed sharing many of our favorite spots in and around the Keys of Sarasota and accompanying her on her "gunking" adventures at the various thrift shops in the area. She is an experienced and competent "thrift shop" shopper and is good at identifying the good buy as opposed to the junk. Usually we would all leave the store with some item that caught our fancy. Ken is now a converted thrift shopper and I am adjusting to the idea that it may be a practical resource for my "fixed income" complex. Amazing.
We lost some of our "allocated" tourist days as a result of a plumbing problem but once that was dealt with, we managed to get out and about with a more in depth itinerary. On Wednesday, we drove to Punta Gorda ( recently acclaimed one of ten best places to live by Woman's Day), for a walk about then drove on to Ft Meyers and Sanibel Island. Too late, we discovered that Helen had not visited the Edison/Ford estates and we were too late to fit in a tour that day. Thus, the Edison/Ford experience is on our agenda for Helen's return visit with us, which we hope she will do.
On Friday, we drove to Naples for lunch with Helen's brother-in-law and sister-in-law at Tin City. This was Bill's older brother, Dick. He looks very much like Bill, possesses the same sense of humor and has many of the same gestures. We had met him many years ago but we had not met his wife, who was also delightful. From Naples we drove to Marco Island for a walk around and overview of that picturesque spot. On our way back we met a friend of Helen's from Sandusky Ohio, Lynn Haas and her husband, Gene at the Olive Garden for dinner. We enjoyed meeting Helen's friends and family. We found them to possess the same wonderful traits of friendliness and warmth as we have always appreciated in Bill and Helen.
Those are but two of our busy days with Helen but we saw much, did a lot and found that she, at 81, had as much, if not more, energy as Ken or I. It was a fun week. My niece Joy arrived Saturday morning and we retrieved her from the Tampa airport after a red eye flight from Phoenix into Tampa. Saturday was a laid back day though we did get out and about for a visit to Ana Marie island and dinner at the Flying Bridge in Venice.
Sunday we drove Helen home to Orlando and then did a "drive about" Orlando and the Disney World Vacation complex which offered a free boat ride connecting the various resorts with Epcot. It was too late to invest a $50 fee for admittance so we "shined it on" and wished we had planned better because Joy has not visited Epcot. She also has something to return and plan for her next visit with us.
Monday was a long walk on the beach and listening to Ken share his various aches and pains during the rest of the day. As he is prone to do, he once again overdid his enthusiasm for exercise. A trek out and about in the late afternoon gave us an opportunity to "dine" out and that was the sum total of that day.
Tuesday, Ken and Joy went fishing and we enjoyed fresh fish for dinner that evening. Wednesday we toured the Ringling Museum and the estate of John and Mabel Ringling as well as fulfilled our cultural experience for the week, the art gallery located on the estate. Thursday, we drove to Ft Meyers where Joy and Ken toured the Edison/Ford estate and I enjoyed a "book reading" experience under the shade of a magnificent banyan tree. Bright and early Friday morning we were up and out, on our way to the Everglades and Everglade City. We enjoyed an air boat ride, a jungle boat trip through the Everglades and a land safari. It was a delightful day with the alligators, birds, racoons, pigs and wild species that abound in that beautiful spot. Ken's combination lunch about did Joy and I in. He had frogs legs, alligator, shrimp and fresh fish. Ugh! I tell you the man will eat anything. On Saturday we drove Joy to the airport in Tampa and from there, did a scenic tour of St Petersburg, Clearwater, Tarpon Springs and areas North. Our trip to the airport created the momentum for the day and by the time we were back at the apartment, Joy should have landed in Phoenix and been well on her way home. Of course, we did a boat tour and that made four boat trips in a single week. My cup runneth over! It is Sunday and our day is scheduled for laziness although Ken has already named several things he would like to do but today is MY DAY for relaxing and maybe some cleaning.
We return home Thursday and hopefully, by the time we get back the air will have cleared from the fires. Though we have not been there in person, we have watched with interest, worry and love as the television brought home to us the devastation of yet another fire, this one much too close to home and our hearts! California politics may be suspect but the State, climate and people are beautiful. Politicians be damned! It will be interesting to see if the Governator can do anything with the jerks responsible for the mess there! Where oh where to begin?
Our only day of picture taking during this trip was the trip to the Everglades and a few of those shots are included for your perusal.
Until next time.
Niece Joy Neely - ready to conquer the Everglades.
Sister boat departing ahead of us. A fun ride.
Alligator patroling the waters. Not recommended for swimming.
Three year old gator. Friendly now. I passed on a stroke or a hold. Joy stroked it. Ken held it.
RV Park and homes in Everglade City
Docile - Yes?
The Osprey at peace. -- beautiful bird.
The wildlife is well fed. The boat operators feed them on each tour and the wildlife expects it. Pigs ran to meet the bus and watched as corn was thrown to them.
Little racoons come running, waiting for their gratuity. Cute little beggars.
I write this from Sarasota Florida where Ken and I have had two weeks of delightful visiting and hosting two wonderful guests. Our friend, Helen Holzaepfel spent a week with us. Helen and Bill formerly lived in the St Petersburg area, thus they have many friends and memories in this area. We enjoyed sharing many of our favorite spots in and around the Keys of Sarasota and accompanying her on her "gunking" adventures at the various thrift shops in the area. She is an experienced and competent "thrift shop" shopper and is good at identifying the good buy as opposed to the junk. Usually we would all leave the store with some item that caught our fancy. Ken is now a converted thrift shopper and I am adjusting to the idea that it may be a practical resource for my "fixed income" complex. Amazing.
We lost some of our "allocated" tourist days as a result of a plumbing problem but once that was dealt with, we managed to get out and about with a more in depth itinerary. On Wednesday, we drove to Punta Gorda ( recently acclaimed one of ten best places to live by Woman's Day), for a walk about then drove on to Ft Meyers and Sanibel Island. Too late, we discovered that Helen had not visited the Edison/Ford estates and we were too late to fit in a tour that day. Thus, the Edison/Ford experience is on our agenda for Helen's return visit with us, which we hope she will do.
On Friday, we drove to Naples for lunch with Helen's brother-in-law and sister-in-law at Tin City. This was Bill's older brother, Dick. He looks very much like Bill, possesses the same sense of humor and has many of the same gestures. We had met him many years ago but we had not met his wife, who was also delightful. From Naples we drove to Marco Island for a walk around and overview of that picturesque spot. On our way back we met a friend of Helen's from Sandusky Ohio, Lynn Haas and her husband, Gene at the Olive Garden for dinner. We enjoyed meeting Helen's friends and family. We found them to possess the same wonderful traits of friendliness and warmth as we have always appreciated in Bill and Helen.
Those are but two of our busy days with Helen but we saw much, did a lot and found that she, at 81, had as much, if not more, energy as Ken or I. It was a fun week. My niece Joy arrived Saturday morning and we retrieved her from the Tampa airport after a red eye flight from Phoenix into Tampa. Saturday was a laid back day though we did get out and about for a visit to Ana Marie island and dinner at the Flying Bridge in Venice.
Sunday we drove Helen home to Orlando and then did a "drive about" Orlando and the Disney World Vacation complex which offered a free boat ride connecting the various resorts with Epcot. It was too late to invest a $50 fee for admittance so we "shined it on" and wished we had planned better because Joy has not visited Epcot. She also has something to return and plan for her next visit with us.
Monday was a long walk on the beach and listening to Ken share his various aches and pains during the rest of the day. As he is prone to do, he once again overdid his enthusiasm for exercise. A trek out and about in the late afternoon gave us an opportunity to "dine" out and that was the sum total of that day.
Tuesday, Ken and Joy went fishing and we enjoyed fresh fish for dinner that evening. Wednesday we toured the Ringling Museum and the estate of John and Mabel Ringling as well as fulfilled our cultural experience for the week, the art gallery located on the estate. Thursday, we drove to Ft Meyers where Joy and Ken toured the Edison/Ford estate and I enjoyed a "book reading" experience under the shade of a magnificent banyan tree. Bright and early Friday morning we were up and out, on our way to the Everglades and Everglade City. We enjoyed an air boat ride, a jungle boat trip through the Everglades and a land safari. It was a delightful day with the alligators, birds, racoons, pigs and wild species that abound in that beautiful spot. Ken's combination lunch about did Joy and I in. He had frogs legs, alligator, shrimp and fresh fish. Ugh! I tell you the man will eat anything. On Saturday we drove Joy to the airport in Tampa and from there, did a scenic tour of St Petersburg, Clearwater, Tarpon Springs and areas North. Our trip to the airport created the momentum for the day and by the time we were back at the apartment, Joy should have landed in Phoenix and been well on her way home. Of course, we did a boat tour and that made four boat trips in a single week. My cup runneth over! It is Sunday and our day is scheduled for laziness although Ken has already named several things he would like to do but today is MY DAY for relaxing and maybe some cleaning.
We return home Thursday and hopefully, by the time we get back the air will have cleared from the fires. Though we have not been there in person, we have watched with interest, worry and love as the television brought home to us the devastation of yet another fire, this one much too close to home and our hearts! California politics may be suspect but the State, climate and people are beautiful. Politicians be damned! It will be interesting to see if the Governator can do anything with the jerks responsible for the mess there! Where oh where to begin?
Our only day of picture taking during this trip was the trip to the Everglades and a few of those shots are included for your perusal.
Until next time.
Niece Joy Neely - ready to conquer the Everglades.
Sister boat departing ahead of us. A fun ride.
Alligator patroling the waters. Not recommended for swimming.
Three year old gator. Friendly now. I passed on a stroke or a hold. Joy stroked it. Ken held it.
RV Park and homes in Everglade City
Docile - Yes?
The Osprey at peace. -- beautiful bird.
The wildlife is well fed. The boat operators feed them on each tour and the wildlife expects it. Pigs ran to meet the bus and watched as corn was thrown to them.
Little racoons come running, waiting for their gratuity. Cute little beggars.
Saturday, October 04, 2003
Happy birthday to our dear sweet daughter, Terri Burns. Goodness how time does fly. Seems like it was only yesterday when that dear sweet young one charmed us with her smile and blessed us with her beauty. She has made our days bright, our hearts light and given us many blessings. Terri -- we love yo.
Tuesday, September 09, 2003
SEPTEMBER 8, 2003
NEWPORT OREGON
We left Long Beach Washington early September 7, drove into Portland for a “pit stop” at Camping World where we purchased a new door for a compartment that we lost en route. We headed toward Lincoln City, Oregon. We missed our turn off for Lincoln City and decided to go to Tillamook instead. Ken remembered touring the Tillamook Cheese Factory at the age of eight, thus an interest in Tillamook was in play. The drive through over the mountain to the Coast was picturesque as has been most of the scenery on this trip. As we entered the outlying area of Tillamook the lush green pastures that provide the food for the “raw material” that make the cheese that is the foundation to this town’s ecomony, or at least we thought so. However, when we went to the RV Resort where we planned to spend the night, we found out that this is high season for this Oregon coastal resort. It is fishing season and the salmon are running. Consequently, we decided to shine “Tillamook cheese” on and headed toward Lincoln City. We ended up at a resort between Tillamook and Lincoln City which was adequate though not a “Gwelda Park”.
This morning we continued our drive down the beautiful Oregon Coast which contains some of the most spectacular coastline we have seen. I have decided I am turning into a “specialist in coastline viewing, marina hopping and boat analysis because Ken rarely passes by a body of water of any size without stopping to personally inspect the facilities, the boats and the surrounding amenities. As we drove through Lincoln City we were impressed with the size of what we thought would be a small town. It is a very nice medium sized coastal community surrounded by beautiful farms with happy “cows” just waiting to provide the main ingredient to the dairy up the road.
As we drove through Newport, we chose a RV park next to the marina which has a view of the bridge that connects Newport to South Beach for our overnight stay. We did a “walk about” Ken explored the docks and we drove through town and paid a visit to “old Newport” and the waterfront of yesteryear.
A weather front came in last night thus our drive down the Coast today (September 9) was wet and dreary but the weather stirred up the sea with awesome action adding to the adventure of maneuvering an exciting road on its own.
We are safely at rest in a lakeside park just outside of Coos Bay relaxing and waiting for the rain to pass us by.
SEPTEMBER 6, 2003
LONG BEACH, WASHINGTON
Happy birthday to our daughter in law Marci.
We wish we were there to help her celebrate but we look forward to celebrating with her when we return. When we tried to call to wish her a happy birthday we discovered we were out of cell phone range. Our Verizon coverage has been very good but occasionally we get lost in the span of space.
We are in Long Beach Washington, which is located on a ten mile long peninsula of the same name that runs from Ilwaco to Oysterville. There is a major fishing port at Ilwaco from which Ken caught a salmon fishing charter at 6AM . He has been yearning to catch a salmon since our arrival in this State and the charter boat seemed to improve his odds.
It is very cold and overcast today. Yesterday when we arrived the fog was still hanging over the horizon and when we walked on the beach, it was very foggy. Today we are experiencing a weather front and the fog simply has not go away. We arrived in this little village to find that it is hosting a vintage car event with 2 - 3,000 vintage cars expected for the weekend. It is amusing to see the small town anticipation, enthusiasm and celebration of these events. The residents of small town America seem to show a great appreciation for the brief interruption to their regular schedule. No doubt this is due to fewer opportunities to escape their daily routine. As we drove into town through the only main road connecting it to the mainland, residents were lined up along the roadway in their chairs, drink and in some cases food to watch the entrance of the old cars into town. In Hoquiam, the town just before Ocean City where we were before Long Beach, they were having a "loggers playday" today. They, too, were preparing for their celebration with special breakfasts, barbecues, ice cream socials which would all be capped off with a logging event at 6PM that would include events such as log rolling, chopping wood and whatever other "activities" that are unique to loggers. We have concluded that September signals the approach of fall and these events reflect the last hurrah of the season for the inhabitants of people in this area before the onset of winter.
Ken just returned from fishing with two salmon. They are small ones and it would have been much cheaper to buy them in the market but he would not have had the thrill of "the catch". Our diet for the next few days will be salmon, I think. Tomorrow we will be off to Portland and South. If possible, we hope to stop by Ashland, Oregon to say a quick hello to an old friend and co-worker, Jane Davis. Jane recently relocated to Ashland and if possible, we hope that we will get to see her as we pass nearby her area.
We have decided to cancel our planned trip to The Dalles on the Columbia River because of fires in the area. We learned that travel on Highway 84 is escorted one lane traffic and we feel that we have had enough smoke and forest fires for this trip. Like Lake Louise, it was a highly anticipated stop but alas, another time when the haze of smoke will not deter our sight.
NEWPORT OREGON
We left Long Beach Washington early September 7, drove into Portland for a “pit stop” at Camping World where we purchased a new door for a compartment that we lost en route. We headed toward Lincoln City, Oregon. We missed our turn off for Lincoln City and decided to go to Tillamook instead. Ken remembered touring the Tillamook Cheese Factory at the age of eight, thus an interest in Tillamook was in play. The drive through over the mountain to the Coast was picturesque as has been most of the scenery on this trip. As we entered the outlying area of Tillamook the lush green pastures that provide the food for the “raw material” that make the cheese that is the foundation to this town’s ecomony, or at least we thought so. However, when we went to the RV Resort where we planned to spend the night, we found out that this is high season for this Oregon coastal resort. It is fishing season and the salmon are running. Consequently, we decided to shine “Tillamook cheese” on and headed toward Lincoln City. We ended up at a resort between Tillamook and Lincoln City which was adequate though not a “Gwelda Park”.
This morning we continued our drive down the beautiful Oregon Coast which contains some of the most spectacular coastline we have seen. I have decided I am turning into a “specialist in coastline viewing, marina hopping and boat analysis because Ken rarely passes by a body of water of any size without stopping to personally inspect the facilities, the boats and the surrounding amenities. As we drove through Lincoln City we were impressed with the size of what we thought would be a small town. It is a very nice medium sized coastal community surrounded by beautiful farms with happy “cows” just waiting to provide the main ingredient to the dairy up the road.
As we drove through Newport, we chose a RV park next to the marina which has a view of the bridge that connects Newport to South Beach for our overnight stay. We did a “walk about” Ken explored the docks and we drove through town and paid a visit to “old Newport” and the waterfront of yesteryear.
A weather front came in last night thus our drive down the Coast today (September 9) was wet and dreary but the weather stirred up the sea with awesome action adding to the adventure of maneuvering an exciting road on its own.
We are safely at rest in a lakeside park just outside of Coos Bay relaxing and waiting for the rain to pass us by.
SEPTEMBER 6, 2003
LONG BEACH, WASHINGTON
Happy birthday to our daughter in law Marci.
We wish we were there to help her celebrate but we look forward to celebrating with her when we return. When we tried to call to wish her a happy birthday we discovered we were out of cell phone range. Our Verizon coverage has been very good but occasionally we get lost in the span of space.
We are in Long Beach Washington, which is located on a ten mile long peninsula of the same name that runs from Ilwaco to Oysterville. There is a major fishing port at Ilwaco from which Ken caught a salmon fishing charter at 6AM . He has been yearning to catch a salmon since our arrival in this State and the charter boat seemed to improve his odds.
It is very cold and overcast today. Yesterday when we arrived the fog was still hanging over the horizon and when we walked on the beach, it was very foggy. Today we are experiencing a weather front and the fog simply has not go away. We arrived in this little village to find that it is hosting a vintage car event with 2 - 3,000 vintage cars expected for the weekend. It is amusing to see the small town anticipation, enthusiasm and celebration of these events. The residents of small town America seem to show a great appreciation for the brief interruption to their regular schedule. No doubt this is due to fewer opportunities to escape their daily routine. As we drove into town through the only main road connecting it to the mainland, residents were lined up along the roadway in their chairs, drink and in some cases food to watch the entrance of the old cars into town. In Hoquiam, the town just before Ocean City where we were before Long Beach, they were having a "loggers playday" today. They, too, were preparing for their celebration with special breakfasts, barbecues, ice cream socials which would all be capped off with a logging event at 6PM that would include events such as log rolling, chopping wood and whatever other "activities" that are unique to loggers. We have concluded that September signals the approach of fall and these events reflect the last hurrah of the season for the inhabitants of people in this area before the onset of winter.
Ken just returned from fishing with two salmon. They are small ones and it would have been much cheaper to buy them in the market but he would not have had the thrill of "the catch". Our diet for the next few days will be salmon, I think. Tomorrow we will be off to Portland and South. If possible, we hope to stop by Ashland, Oregon to say a quick hello to an old friend and co-worker, Jane Davis. Jane recently relocated to Ashland and if possible, we hope that we will get to see her as we pass nearby her area.
We have decided to cancel our planned trip to The Dalles on the Columbia River because of fires in the area. We learned that travel on Highway 84 is escorted one lane traffic and we feel that we have had enough smoke and forest fires for this trip. Like Lake Louise, it was a highly anticipated stop but alas, another time when the haze of smoke will not deter our sight.
Thursday, September 04, 2003
AUGUST 31, 2003
We were up early this morning in preparation for our departure from Canada. We found the RV Park in Richmond comfortable and well suited to a Vancouver commute. The ferry to Vancouver Island was just 30 minutes from the park as well as the park provided quick access to downtown Vancouver. We ended up our visit in the area with a visit to Steveston Village, a marina restaurant complex where fisherman "hawk" their catch of the day from their boats on the wharf and restaurants prepare fresh seafood items (presumably fresh from the boats) for ones eating fare. It was a nice finale to our Canadian visit.
Saturday afternoon a London type bus arrived in the RV park that appeared to be a combination bus, sleeper and camper. It was home to an estimated 20 German tourists who have been touring Alaska and Canada for the last two months. A man and woman who are the apparent "guides" prepare the meals, keep things ship shape and look after things while their tourist guests are out and about seeing the sights. It was a rather neat approach to camping "communal style". We didn't talk to the inhabitants of the bus inasmuch as none seemed to speak our version of English and we couldn't speak their German. Nevertheless, they smiled and nodded friendly like so we felt accepted in spite of our language barriers. They seemed like a jolly lot in their late 60's - early 70's gray headed with a spring in their step and a smile on their face.
All in all we did not think that the Vancouver people that we met were as friendly as most of the Canadians that we encountered. We attributed this lack of cordiality (they weren't rude - just distant) to a more cosmopolitan populace and a significantly greater number of tourists who like us, were just trying to find their way around. Nevertheless, it was a most pleasant visit and we look forward to a return trip to this beautiful country.
Our next ordeal was clearing customs back into the U.S. We had forgotten our passports which we had been told was a recommended accompaniment . Terri expressed mail our passports to Monica for us to pick up before we left the States. We did not need them going into Canada but we thought that we might need them to speed our return. However, we met another American couple who had entered at another entry location and they had undergone a thorough inspection before they were granted entry. We just answered place of birth and purpose of visit and were waved on through As it turned out our reentry was complicated by Ken going into the wrong line as we entered the border station. Our reentry was somewhat confused between agriculture, immigration and customs so everything went as well as could be expected though there was a certain air of intolerance at the gate for our failure to properly read their posted CLEAR instructions. However, the man in customs was very nice in spite of some concern about the meat in the freezer that I had repackaged at home for quick meal preparation for two. He explained that in our best interests Customs is particularly concerned about meat coming in from Canada because of the "mad cow" problem. (Little did he know that he might be speaking to a "mad cow" if he confiscated our meat.) Luckily for him and us, he believed our story when we said we bought it in the States. Our "larder" was spared. As he talked and explained the guidelines, I could only think that we should not have eaten so many meals out, but alas - all was well. It is good that our "big brother" was looking after us.
Customs cleared we proceeded down the highway where Ken noted fishermen on the rivers and grew excited about the prospect of salmon fishing. All of my plans for Seattle and vicinity went out the window as he prepared to fish for the big ones. As it turned out he didn't catch anything in Seattle but his fishing urge was motivated.
Tuesday, September 2 - People to see and things to do, we departed our Tall Chief RV Park abode at 9:30 AM. After a brief stop for a telephone call, we departed Redmond for Ocean Shores near Ocean City, Washington where a cold wind welcomed us to the Coast. Ken had looked forward to our visit to this area because of its rugged coast and as we surveyed the landscape and drove along the beach, the breaking surf ignited our fantasies as to what the storms along this coast must be like. We then drove up the Coast to Pacific Beach where Ken found a fishing river. Another man was already in residence along the banks there so Ken joined him and threw his lines out in hopes of bringing in a big one. Alas, no such luck. However, as the two men pitched their line out and reeled it in a good sized salmon jumped not five feet from them as if thumbing its nose at them. So, at least they know there are fish there - whether or not Ken can go back tomorrow and catch one will be the subject of my next report. It is time for bed so will catch you up on our fishing luck tomorrow.
Wednesday, September 3- Ken spent the day alternating between fishing from the rocks and fishing the rivers. So far, no fish but he is a "happy camper". In the meantime, he messed up my travel schedule but alas, I am just a fellow traveler who goes where my master bids! DUH!
Thursday, September 4 - A drive around the bay to Westport where Ken checked out the deep sea fishing opportunities. He finally concluded that we should be on our way so we are prepared to depart ocean Shores in the morning with a stop in Vancouver Washington before going on to the Dells on the Columbia River in Oregon. This has been a very comfortable, private and nice park for rest and relaxation. Ken's back has chosen to be a little "off" today so he has been a little more cautious with his rambling around so alas, still no fish. A fishing trip from Westport would cost him $80 so that will buy a lot of fish in the market but it won't entertain "his nibs". Isn't that just the saddest story you ever heard?
Aug 16 Copper mine -- Butte Montana
Aug 17 Held family +1
Aug 18 Glacier National Park
Aug 19 Radium Hot Springs
Aug 22 Icefields Parkway - Glacier
Aug 23 Maligne Lake Jasper
Aug 25 Rafting Fraser River BC
Aug 26 Vancouver
Aug 27 Downtown Victoria
Aug 27 Butchart Gardens VI BC
Aug 27 - Ferry View BC
Aug 28 Brentwood Bay - VI BC
Aug 29 Whistler BC
Aug 30 Paella on the wharf
Camping European style
Sep 1 - the fisherman
We were up early this morning in preparation for our departure from Canada. We found the RV Park in Richmond comfortable and well suited to a Vancouver commute. The ferry to Vancouver Island was just 30 minutes from the park as well as the park provided quick access to downtown Vancouver. We ended up our visit in the area with a visit to Steveston Village, a marina restaurant complex where fisherman "hawk" their catch of the day from their boats on the wharf and restaurants prepare fresh seafood items (presumably fresh from the boats) for ones eating fare. It was a nice finale to our Canadian visit.
Saturday afternoon a London type bus arrived in the RV park that appeared to be a combination bus, sleeper and camper. It was home to an estimated 20 German tourists who have been touring Alaska and Canada for the last two months. A man and woman who are the apparent "guides" prepare the meals, keep things ship shape and look after things while their tourist guests are out and about seeing the sights. It was a rather neat approach to camping "communal style". We didn't talk to the inhabitants of the bus inasmuch as none seemed to speak our version of English and we couldn't speak their German. Nevertheless, they smiled and nodded friendly like so we felt accepted in spite of our language barriers. They seemed like a jolly lot in their late 60's - early 70's gray headed with a spring in their step and a smile on their face.
All in all we did not think that the Vancouver people that we met were as friendly as most of the Canadians that we encountered. We attributed this lack of cordiality (they weren't rude - just distant) to a more cosmopolitan populace and a significantly greater number of tourists who like us, were just trying to find their way around. Nevertheless, it was a most pleasant visit and we look forward to a return trip to this beautiful country.
Our next ordeal was clearing customs back into the U.S. We had forgotten our passports which we had been told was a recommended accompaniment . Terri expressed mail our passports to Monica for us to pick up before we left the States. We did not need them going into Canada but we thought that we might need them to speed our return. However, we met another American couple who had entered at another entry location and they had undergone a thorough inspection before they were granted entry. We just answered place of birth and purpose of visit and were waved on through As it turned out our reentry was complicated by Ken going into the wrong line as we entered the border station. Our reentry was somewhat confused between agriculture, immigration and customs so everything went as well as could be expected though there was a certain air of intolerance at the gate for our failure to properly read their posted CLEAR instructions. However, the man in customs was very nice in spite of some concern about the meat in the freezer that I had repackaged at home for quick meal preparation for two. He explained that in our best interests Customs is particularly concerned about meat coming in from Canada because of the "mad cow" problem. (Little did he know that he might be speaking to a "mad cow" if he confiscated our meat.) Luckily for him and us, he believed our story when we said we bought it in the States. Our "larder" was spared. As he talked and explained the guidelines, I could only think that we should not have eaten so many meals out, but alas - all was well. It is good that our "big brother" was looking after us.
Customs cleared we proceeded down the highway where Ken noted fishermen on the rivers and grew excited about the prospect of salmon fishing. All of my plans for Seattle and vicinity went out the window as he prepared to fish for the big ones. As it turned out he didn't catch anything in Seattle but his fishing urge was motivated.
Tuesday, September 2 - People to see and things to do, we departed our Tall Chief RV Park abode at 9:30 AM. After a brief stop for a telephone call, we departed Redmond for Ocean Shores near Ocean City, Washington where a cold wind welcomed us to the Coast. Ken had looked forward to our visit to this area because of its rugged coast and as we surveyed the landscape and drove along the beach, the breaking surf ignited our fantasies as to what the storms along this coast must be like. We then drove up the Coast to Pacific Beach where Ken found a fishing river. Another man was already in residence along the banks there so Ken joined him and threw his lines out in hopes of bringing in a big one. Alas, no such luck. However, as the two men pitched their line out and reeled it in a good sized salmon jumped not five feet from them as if thumbing its nose at them. So, at least they know there are fish there - whether or not Ken can go back tomorrow and catch one will be the subject of my next report. It is time for bed so will catch you up on our fishing luck tomorrow.
Wednesday, September 3- Ken spent the day alternating between fishing from the rocks and fishing the rivers. So far, no fish but he is a "happy camper". In the meantime, he messed up my travel schedule but alas, I am just a fellow traveler who goes where my master bids! DUH!
Thursday, September 4 - A drive around the bay to Westport where Ken checked out the deep sea fishing opportunities. He finally concluded that we should be on our way so we are prepared to depart ocean Shores in the morning with a stop in Vancouver Washington before going on to the Dells on the Columbia River in Oregon. This has been a very comfortable, private and nice park for rest and relaxation. Ken's back has chosen to be a little "off" today so he has been a little more cautious with his rambling around so alas, still no fish. A fishing trip from Westport would cost him $80 so that will buy a lot of fish in the market but it won't entertain "his nibs". Isn't that just the saddest story you ever heard?
Aug 16 Copper mine -- Butte Montana
Aug 17 Held family +1
Aug 18 Glacier National Park
Aug 19 Radium Hot Springs
Aug 22 Icefields Parkway - Glacier
Aug 23 Maligne Lake Jasper
Aug 25 Rafting Fraser River BC
Aug 26 Vancouver
Aug 27 Downtown Victoria
Aug 27 Butchart Gardens VI BC
Aug 27 - Ferry View BC
Aug 28 Brentwood Bay - VI BC
Aug 29 Whistler BC
Aug 30 Paella on the wharf
Camping European style
Sep 1 - the fisherman
Sunday, August 31, 2003
FROM THE ROAD
AUGUST 16-30
Saturday August 16, we drove from West Yellowstone to Butte Montana. We learned from residents of Montana that Butte is considered by some to be the But of Montana and that seemed an apt phrase. Rarely have I visited a town where I felt so depressed with the reality of "industrial phase out". Butte and the surrounding area was once a thriving copper mining town that has lost its luster. The old part of town is now but a fledgling ghost town. I am not one to be overcome with sympathy by another's plight, especially when it comes to cities. However, I must admit that the loss of jobs and lack of prosperity in those areas impacted by the loss of the "vein of natural resources" has provided me an awareness of just how fickle lady luck can be. It has confirmed to me that wealth is not an entitlement - it takes hard work and diligent planning and oversight to preserve. During this year of extended travel we have visited Jerome, Bisbee, and Douglas Arizona as well as Ouray Colorado and Butte Montana, all former mining towns providing riches, hope and the good life to so many. Now vacant houses, abandoned businesses and desolate buildings stand as a memorial to the reality that yesterdays dream may be tomorrow's nightmare. We have passed through numerous other areas where abandoned mine sites sit but we are not gluttons for punishment. We did not stop to dwell on the aroma of poverty that tends to choke the air that surrounds such sites. It is not an uplifting experience.
On Sunday we arrived in Kalispell Montana where we visited Monica and Greg Held, Ashley and Nicholas. Monica is a daughter of Bruce and Gwelda Haselman and thus, 2nd generation extended family. We watched her grow up, enjoyed her company on many sailing and camping trips with the Haselman family and watched approvingly as she and Greg exchanged wedding vows. Monica is a nurse and Greg an x-ray technician. They relocated to Kalispell from California in search of a family oriented environment with good schools and a lifestyle that they believed would be more inducive to raising a family. From our limited overview, their choice seems to have been a good one and both seem satisfied with their choice and neither expressed any desire to return to California. Greg confided that he actually looks forward to going to work. That, in my opinion, is reflective of a man who made a right career choice. Monica practices her "skills" as a surgical nurse on a short week basis which provides her an extra day of quality time for their growing children. We had a wonderful visit with the Held's. The Held children, are extremely well mannered, respectful and quiet for five and ten year olds. After dinner in a great Italian restaurant, Ken and I said goodbye to our young friends and made our way to a RV Park in the pines outside of Glacier National Park in preparation for exploring the park on Monday.
Monday we embarked on our drive through Glacier National Park amid the smoke from the several fires that still burned uncontrollably within the park. It was our hope that we would reach a point where we might view what we understand is one of the most beautiful National Parks in our system. Alas, the smoke was everywhere and at no time could we view the great natural beauty that was hidden by the smoke that hung like a mask over the canyons, lakes and mountains. It was a disappointing drive albeit one that we had looked forward to with great anticipation. There is no doubt that there is great beauty there that remained hidden from us by the smoke but I am not sure that I would go over that route again. As I looked straight down into the steep ravines and mountains, I closed my eyes and asked myself if I really wanted to see this beauty first hand or whether I might not be better viewing it through colored glasses exacerbated by smoke. That drive is not for the faint of heart!
Tuesday we departed smokey Glacier National Park and made our way across the border into Canada where we hoped to escape the fires that had plagued us both in Yellowstone and Glacier. As we drove across the border and up Highway 93, the traffic was light, the roadway scenic and the weather accommodating. We stopped for lunch in Cranbrook, a pleasant mountain town on the edge of the Kootenay mountains. After lunch we proceeded to Radium Hot Springs, a true five star RV resort in spite of the smoke that hung over the area. We found the resort "visitor friendly" and decided to extend our visit to three nights instead of the planned two, in spite of the smoke. Ken had been having some problems with his back and this seemed a good place to "cool it" for a day or so.
As our time in the resort passed, the smoke grew worse and we learned that the fires were rapidly expanding, sometimes tripling in size from one day to the next. Our friends, the Herberts, had suggested that we might want to include the Okanagan area of BC on our itinerary and we had considered it. However, radio and television reported several out of control fires in the Kootenay Mountains and the Okanagan area with campers and residents reportedly being evacuated. We decided to proceed on to Lake Louise and Jasper via Highway 95 in the hope that we would escape the smoke and the fire hazards. Highway 93 which would have been our preferred route was closed except during certain hours for escorted travel. We have heard reports on radio and television that the Kelowna and Cranbrook areas were hard hit by the numerous fires in those areas which has reinforced the wisdom of our decision.
On Friday, we embarked for our long planned trip to Lake Louise. Alas, by the time we reached the turn off for Lake Louise, the smoke was so bad that we felt that we would not be able to really see the beautiful Lake when we arrived. The smoke was not only dense, it was beginning to affect our breathing. So, with a heavy heart, we put Lake Louise on a "return itinerary" and turned toward Jasper and proceeded along the Icefield Parkway to Jasper.
We stopped at the Athabasca (sp?) Glacier for lunch after which Ken took the escorted trip up to the Glacier. I walked up to the Visitors Hall with him, watched him embark on his trek to the ice and then returned to the bus where I read and took a nap. Ken thoroughly enjoyed the Glacier adventure and I enjoyed the brief respite from travel and scenic wonders. It was a "win win" event.
We arrived at Whistlers, a public camp ground in Jasper National Park, early Friday evening, settled in for the night and since this was a "no frills" Park, (dry camping and heaven forbid, no TV) played a game of scrabble and called it a day.
Saturday, August 23 and a full day. It rained during the night and when we awoke this morning, it was cold as in VERY! We heard reports that a cold front was moving in and believe me when they promise a cold front in Canada, they deliver. We treated ourselves to breakfast out and as we walked up the street practicing "touristing", we were cold. We determined that we needed our colorful wind breakers that are always in the car in anticipation of the unexpected, thanks to Marvis and Bob Gersten. We then drove up to the Tram where we watched as people braved the cold and wind to take the tram to the top of the hill. I don't do trams, so we returned to the coach, added another layer of warm clothes and once again, embarked on a trek into the mountains to Lake Maligne, a beautiful lake nestled among the pines high in the forest above the town of Jasper. We decided to take a tour of the Lake which turned out to be a beautiful trip on the glacier fed lake and a nice entry into our memory banks for this beautiful area. For the first time since we arrived in Montana, we were relatively of free of smoke for an entire day.
Sunday, August 24, we drove to Prince George where the streets appeared to have been "rolled up" in honor of Sunday. After a quick drive though the town, we decided to proceed on toward Vancouver in anticipation of spending an additional day in that area. We continued on down the road to a RV park just outside of Lake Williams that seemed adequate for a "one night stand"..
Monday, August 25, we debated whether to take Highway 99 or Highway 97 into Vancouver. We decided on Highway 97, which was a beautiful drive but one of the most tiring drives of our trip. Highway 97 is a two lane trans Canada Highway that is the primary link between North and South with too few pull outs to accommodate slower moving traffic such as ourselves. By the end of the day when we merged onto Highway 1, Ken's knuckles were hurting although he maintains that he was not holding onto the steering wheel tightly. Undoubtedly it was transferred pain because I certainly was holding onto the steering wheel from the passenger seat. We stopped and watched rafters maneuvering the Fraser River which appeared to be a definite "E" ride. We completed the last few miles of Highway 97, entered Highway 1 which more clearly resembled a California expressway and begin our search for a stop for the night. After our drive down the mountain spearheaded by scads of trucks, many with heavily loaded with double trailers, a lot of log trucks and semis trying to make a living, we were happy to call it a day.
Tuesday, we made our way into Vancouver and checked into a RV park in Richmond. After a brief rest, we hopped in the "towed" and drove to the ferry terminal for a schedule of the ships to Vancouver Island. As we were departing the ferry terminal, Ken spotted wild berries and insisted on stopping and picking them for his breakfast. I was horrified! This was an apparent carryover from his memories of his 5-month childhood trip with his parents when they stopped and picked wild berries. He seems to have attached a romantic fascination to this "poaching" endeavor so I just sat in the car and ignored his "childhood reversion". From the ferry terminal we drove downtown Vancouver to Stanley Park for a view of beautiful downtown Vancouver and the bay. We decided to have dinner at a restaurant at Promintory Point which was more than adequate with a lovely view of the bay and first hand entertainment by the resident creatures (racoons) scurrying in the bushes below. After dinner we drove to the other side of the park and enjoyed a nice walk along the shore where we watched several fisherman netting smelt presumably to supplement the family food budget. Ken was able to get a couple of outstanding sunset photos and with darkness, we made our way back to the "coach" to prepare for our early morning departure to Victoria.
Wednesday, we caught the 8AM ferry for the 90 minute sail from the Tsawwassen (somebody should help those Indians with their spelling) terminal to Vancouver Island. It was a beautiful scenic sail through the Strait of Georgia past the many small islands on our approach to Swartz Bay for our Island disembarkation. Our first stop on Vancouver Island was beautiful the Butchart Gardens, where the Butchart family reclaimed an old rock quarry and transformed it into a spectacular experience for the estimated million visitors to that park each year. The grounds are visually appealing, aesthetically beautiful, geometrically balanced and aromatically pleasing. After our 2-hour walk through the gardens we drove into Victoria, a beautiful city on the water with gorgeous old buildings standing in stately silence overlooking the bay below. What a charming city and as we parked our "towed" and prepared to do a "walkabout", an eager citizen surveyed our dirty car with its California license and greeted us with an offer of tourist "recommendations". What a charming man and we listened to his recommendations and followed his suggestion to do a drive around the island to view the "nice tar paper shacks" along the drive for their beautiful gardens, listened to his recommendations for restaurants that have "good groceries" and took to heart his caution about watching our parking time on the meters. All in all a delightful encounter with one of Victoria's seniors. After our drive around the city we checked into our hotel, which turned out to be an inflated "four star" but clean. Another one of Ken's "bargains" and I should know better than to trust his bargain hunting after all of these years. An after dinner walk along the boardwalk overlooking the marina was a pleasant way to conclude a most enjoyable day.
Thursday, we reluctantly departed Victoria for a more in depth look of the island and found ourselves on the road leading to the ferry terminal at Swartz Bay. We were not ready to depart so we cut across the island and circled around through many beautiful bay front homes (mansions would be a better description) until we finally arrived at a small bay with a ferry which seemed like a good adventure to include in our day on the island. We boarded the ferry at Brentwood Bay and took the 25-minute ride across the channel to Mill Bay which took us to the road we should have been on in the first place. From Mill Bay we proceeded to Nanaimo, Parksville and onward with a planned itinerary for Port Alberni until I suggested to Ken that perhaps he had Port Alberni mixed up with Port Albion on the Pacific. A review of the map by "his nibs" proved me correct and we turned back. It was too far for us to achieve his hoped for destination in a one day excursion and still make our return ferry. We settled for a walk along the beach at Parksville and topped our day on the island off with dinner at the marina in old town Nanaimo. We were tired when we boarded the 815 PM ferry from Duke Point to Tsawwassen terminal in Richmond. We arrived back to our "home on wheels" at 11 PM, happy campers to be back in our own "bed".
Friday was a laid back day with lunch at Horshoe Bay and a drive to Whistler. We enjoyed refreshments overlooking the bicycle runs where people of all ages boarded the ski trams with their bicycles for a trip to the top of the mountain and a fast and exciting ride down the mountain. It was an entertaining respite for two old folks who could only marvel at the beauty of this designated site for the 2010 winter Olympics. A good finale to our pleasant and enjoyable visit to Canada, a beautiful country with awesome versatility. If Vancouver Island was in America, we'd love to have a place there.
We were unable to get into the park that we had designated for the 30th so we elected to spend another day at the rv resort in Richmond and do laundry, chores and relax. After our chores were done, we visited Stevenson Village, a fishing port where fishing boat operators "hawk" their fresh catch of the day surrounded by restaurants that prepare excellent seafood purchased fresh from the boat. We enjoyed a Crantini cocktail and a Paella dinner on the wharf before returning to the RV Park and a 45 minute walk with Ken again stopping to poach the local berry bushes for fresh berries. I returned to the Park and waited. I refuse to be involved in his "berry poaching". Admittedly, they were good the next day if one can overlook the manner in which they were obtained. .
There you have it - more than you ever wanted to know about the escapades of Ken and Pat Burns on he road.
On to Seattle today, the 31st. Hope you are all enjoying a fine labor day weekend.
AUGUST 16-30
Saturday August 16, we drove from West Yellowstone to Butte Montana. We learned from residents of Montana that Butte is considered by some to be the But of Montana and that seemed an apt phrase. Rarely have I visited a town where I felt so depressed with the reality of "industrial phase out". Butte and the surrounding area was once a thriving copper mining town that has lost its luster. The old part of town is now but a fledgling ghost town. I am not one to be overcome with sympathy by another's plight, especially when it comes to cities. However, I must admit that the loss of jobs and lack of prosperity in those areas impacted by the loss of the "vein of natural resources" has provided me an awareness of just how fickle lady luck can be. It has confirmed to me that wealth is not an entitlement - it takes hard work and diligent planning and oversight to preserve. During this year of extended travel we have visited Jerome, Bisbee, and Douglas Arizona as well as Ouray Colorado and Butte Montana, all former mining towns providing riches, hope and the good life to so many. Now vacant houses, abandoned businesses and desolate buildings stand as a memorial to the reality that yesterdays dream may be tomorrow's nightmare. We have passed through numerous other areas where abandoned mine sites sit but we are not gluttons for punishment. We did not stop to dwell on the aroma of poverty that tends to choke the air that surrounds such sites. It is not an uplifting experience.
On Sunday we arrived in Kalispell Montana where we visited Monica and Greg Held, Ashley and Nicholas. Monica is a daughter of Bruce and Gwelda Haselman and thus, 2nd generation extended family. We watched her grow up, enjoyed her company on many sailing and camping trips with the Haselman family and watched approvingly as she and Greg exchanged wedding vows. Monica is a nurse and Greg an x-ray technician. They relocated to Kalispell from California in search of a family oriented environment with good schools and a lifestyle that they believed would be more inducive to raising a family. From our limited overview, their choice seems to have been a good one and both seem satisfied with their choice and neither expressed any desire to return to California. Greg confided that he actually looks forward to going to work. That, in my opinion, is reflective of a man who made a right career choice. Monica practices her "skills" as a surgical nurse on a short week basis which provides her an extra day of quality time for their growing children. We had a wonderful visit with the Held's. The Held children, are extremely well mannered, respectful and quiet for five and ten year olds. After dinner in a great Italian restaurant, Ken and I said goodbye to our young friends and made our way to a RV Park in the pines outside of Glacier National Park in preparation for exploring the park on Monday.
Monday we embarked on our drive through Glacier National Park amid the smoke from the several fires that still burned uncontrollably within the park. It was our hope that we would reach a point where we might view what we understand is one of the most beautiful National Parks in our system. Alas, the smoke was everywhere and at no time could we view the great natural beauty that was hidden by the smoke that hung like a mask over the canyons, lakes and mountains. It was a disappointing drive albeit one that we had looked forward to with great anticipation. There is no doubt that there is great beauty there that remained hidden from us by the smoke but I am not sure that I would go over that route again. As I looked straight down into the steep ravines and mountains, I closed my eyes and asked myself if I really wanted to see this beauty first hand or whether I might not be better viewing it through colored glasses exacerbated by smoke. That drive is not for the faint of heart!
Tuesday we departed smokey Glacier National Park and made our way across the border into Canada where we hoped to escape the fires that had plagued us both in Yellowstone and Glacier. As we drove across the border and up Highway 93, the traffic was light, the roadway scenic and the weather accommodating. We stopped for lunch in Cranbrook, a pleasant mountain town on the edge of the Kootenay mountains. After lunch we proceeded to Radium Hot Springs, a true five star RV resort in spite of the smoke that hung over the area. We found the resort "visitor friendly" and decided to extend our visit to three nights instead of the planned two, in spite of the smoke. Ken had been having some problems with his back and this seemed a good place to "cool it" for a day or so.
As our time in the resort passed, the smoke grew worse and we learned that the fires were rapidly expanding, sometimes tripling in size from one day to the next. Our friends, the Herberts, had suggested that we might want to include the Okanagan area of BC on our itinerary and we had considered it. However, radio and television reported several out of control fires in the Kootenay Mountains and the Okanagan area with campers and residents reportedly being evacuated. We decided to proceed on to Lake Louise and Jasper via Highway 95 in the hope that we would escape the smoke and the fire hazards. Highway 93 which would have been our preferred route was closed except during certain hours for escorted travel. We have heard reports on radio and television that the Kelowna and Cranbrook areas were hard hit by the numerous fires in those areas which has reinforced the wisdom of our decision.
On Friday, we embarked for our long planned trip to Lake Louise. Alas, by the time we reached the turn off for Lake Louise, the smoke was so bad that we felt that we would not be able to really see the beautiful Lake when we arrived. The smoke was not only dense, it was beginning to affect our breathing. So, with a heavy heart, we put Lake Louise on a "return itinerary" and turned toward Jasper and proceeded along the Icefield Parkway to Jasper.
We stopped at the Athabasca (sp?) Glacier for lunch after which Ken took the escorted trip up to the Glacier. I walked up to the Visitors Hall with him, watched him embark on his trek to the ice and then returned to the bus where I read and took a nap. Ken thoroughly enjoyed the Glacier adventure and I enjoyed the brief respite from travel and scenic wonders. It was a "win win" event.
We arrived at Whistlers, a public camp ground in Jasper National Park, early Friday evening, settled in for the night and since this was a "no frills" Park, (dry camping and heaven forbid, no TV) played a game of scrabble and called it a day.
Saturday, August 23 and a full day. It rained during the night and when we awoke this morning, it was cold as in VERY! We heard reports that a cold front was moving in and believe me when they promise a cold front in Canada, they deliver. We treated ourselves to breakfast out and as we walked up the street practicing "touristing", we were cold. We determined that we needed our colorful wind breakers that are always in the car in anticipation of the unexpected, thanks to Marvis and Bob Gersten. We then drove up to the Tram where we watched as people braved the cold and wind to take the tram to the top of the hill. I don't do trams, so we returned to the coach, added another layer of warm clothes and once again, embarked on a trek into the mountains to Lake Maligne, a beautiful lake nestled among the pines high in the forest above the town of Jasper. We decided to take a tour of the Lake which turned out to be a beautiful trip on the glacier fed lake and a nice entry into our memory banks for this beautiful area. For the first time since we arrived in Montana, we were relatively of free of smoke for an entire day.
Sunday, August 24, we drove to Prince George where the streets appeared to have been "rolled up" in honor of Sunday. After a quick drive though the town, we decided to proceed on toward Vancouver in anticipation of spending an additional day in that area. We continued on down the road to a RV park just outside of Lake Williams that seemed adequate for a "one night stand"..
Monday, August 25, we debated whether to take Highway 99 or Highway 97 into Vancouver. We decided on Highway 97, which was a beautiful drive but one of the most tiring drives of our trip. Highway 97 is a two lane trans Canada Highway that is the primary link between North and South with too few pull outs to accommodate slower moving traffic such as ourselves. By the end of the day when we merged onto Highway 1, Ken's knuckles were hurting although he maintains that he was not holding onto the steering wheel tightly. Undoubtedly it was transferred pain because I certainly was holding onto the steering wheel from the passenger seat. We stopped and watched rafters maneuvering the Fraser River which appeared to be a definite "E" ride. We completed the last few miles of Highway 97, entered Highway 1 which more clearly resembled a California expressway and begin our search for a stop for the night. After our drive down the mountain spearheaded by scads of trucks, many with heavily loaded with double trailers, a lot of log trucks and semis trying to make a living, we were happy to call it a day.
Tuesday, we made our way into Vancouver and checked into a RV park in Richmond. After a brief rest, we hopped in the "towed" and drove to the ferry terminal for a schedule of the ships to Vancouver Island. As we were departing the ferry terminal, Ken spotted wild berries and insisted on stopping and picking them for his breakfast. I was horrified! This was an apparent carryover from his memories of his 5-month childhood trip with his parents when they stopped and picked wild berries. He seems to have attached a romantic fascination to this "poaching" endeavor so I just sat in the car and ignored his "childhood reversion". From the ferry terminal we drove downtown Vancouver to Stanley Park for a view of beautiful downtown Vancouver and the bay. We decided to have dinner at a restaurant at Promintory Point which was more than adequate with a lovely view of the bay and first hand entertainment by the resident creatures (racoons) scurrying in the bushes below. After dinner we drove to the other side of the park and enjoyed a nice walk along the shore where we watched several fisherman netting smelt presumably to supplement the family food budget. Ken was able to get a couple of outstanding sunset photos and with darkness, we made our way back to the "coach" to prepare for our early morning departure to Victoria.
Wednesday, we caught the 8AM ferry for the 90 minute sail from the Tsawwassen (somebody should help those Indians with their spelling) terminal to Vancouver Island. It was a beautiful scenic sail through the Strait of Georgia past the many small islands on our approach to Swartz Bay for our Island disembarkation. Our first stop on Vancouver Island was beautiful the Butchart Gardens, where the Butchart family reclaimed an old rock quarry and transformed it into a spectacular experience for the estimated million visitors to that park each year. The grounds are visually appealing, aesthetically beautiful, geometrically balanced and aromatically pleasing. After our 2-hour walk through the gardens we drove into Victoria, a beautiful city on the water with gorgeous old buildings standing in stately silence overlooking the bay below. What a charming city and as we parked our "towed" and prepared to do a "walkabout", an eager citizen surveyed our dirty car with its California license and greeted us with an offer of tourist "recommendations". What a charming man and we listened to his recommendations and followed his suggestion to do a drive around the island to view the "nice tar paper shacks" along the drive for their beautiful gardens, listened to his recommendations for restaurants that have "good groceries" and took to heart his caution about watching our parking time on the meters. All in all a delightful encounter with one of Victoria's seniors. After our drive around the city we checked into our hotel, which turned out to be an inflated "four star" but clean. Another one of Ken's "bargains" and I should know better than to trust his bargain hunting after all of these years. An after dinner walk along the boardwalk overlooking the marina was a pleasant way to conclude a most enjoyable day.
Thursday, we reluctantly departed Victoria for a more in depth look of the island and found ourselves on the road leading to the ferry terminal at Swartz Bay. We were not ready to depart so we cut across the island and circled around through many beautiful bay front homes (mansions would be a better description) until we finally arrived at a small bay with a ferry which seemed like a good adventure to include in our day on the island. We boarded the ferry at Brentwood Bay and took the 25-minute ride across the channel to Mill Bay which took us to the road we should have been on in the first place. From Mill Bay we proceeded to Nanaimo, Parksville and onward with a planned itinerary for Port Alberni until I suggested to Ken that perhaps he had Port Alberni mixed up with Port Albion on the Pacific. A review of the map by "his nibs" proved me correct and we turned back. It was too far for us to achieve his hoped for destination in a one day excursion and still make our return ferry. We settled for a walk along the beach at Parksville and topped our day on the island off with dinner at the marina in old town Nanaimo. We were tired when we boarded the 815 PM ferry from Duke Point to Tsawwassen terminal in Richmond. We arrived back to our "home on wheels" at 11 PM, happy campers to be back in our own "bed".
Friday was a laid back day with lunch at Horshoe Bay and a drive to Whistler. We enjoyed refreshments overlooking the bicycle runs where people of all ages boarded the ski trams with their bicycles for a trip to the top of the mountain and a fast and exciting ride down the mountain. It was an entertaining respite for two old folks who could only marvel at the beauty of this designated site for the 2010 winter Olympics. A good finale to our pleasant and enjoyable visit to Canada, a beautiful country with awesome versatility. If Vancouver Island was in America, we'd love to have a place there.
We were unable to get into the park that we had designated for the 30th so we elected to spend another day at the rv resort in Richmond and do laundry, chores and relax. After our chores were done, we visited Stevenson Village, a fishing port where fishing boat operators "hawk" their fresh catch of the day surrounded by restaurants that prepare excellent seafood purchased fresh from the boat. We enjoyed a Crantini cocktail and a Paella dinner on the wharf before returning to the RV Park and a 45 minute walk with Ken again stopping to poach the local berry bushes for fresh berries. I returned to the Park and waited. I refuse to be involved in his "berry poaching". Admittedly, they were good the next day if one can overlook the manner in which they were obtained. .
There you have it - more than you ever wanted to know about the escapades of Ken and Pat Burns on he road.
On to Seattle today, the 31st. Hope you are all enjoying a fine labor day weekend.
Sunday, August 17, 2003
ON THE ROAD
Monday morning August 11, we departed Camp Verde, Arizona for our first stop on the road, St George Utah. We arrived St George at 530P weary from a full days drive. Most of the territory had been covered before but the drive past the North Rim of the Grand Canyon was beautiful and our entry into this area of Utah gave us another view of that State.
Tuesday morning we were up early in readiness for what was to be a five hour trip to Provo. Once the RV was "bedded", we departed for a scenic view of Bridal Veil Falls up Provo Canyon and then over the pass into Park City where we spent a skiing holiday with the children in the early 70's. Of course, nothing remains the same and just as growth and building has overtaken every city, town and State, Park City was a victim of progress. It was not at all as we remembered it. No surprise there.
From Park City we dropped down to Salt Lake City where we visited Temple Square and the Mormon compound located therein. During our walk through the Visitors Center, a friendly "sleuth" directed Ken to a flagpole" in the middle of the square for a free tour and history of the Mormon pilgrimage West to Utah. The tours, 30-minutes in duration are conducted every 10 minutes. Free tour? Of course, Ken was interested!
As we approached the area of the flagpole, we were welcomed by two personable young ladies whose job it was to make us comfortable, reassure us that our guides would be along momentarily and, I suspicion, keep us interested while we waited the few minutes until the next scheduled tour. Our guides, two young attractive college age, charismatic ladies appeared and introduced themselves by name (which I failed to note). One girl was from Oregon. The second one was from the Philippines and, of course, I didn't get her name either. They began their "pitch" by giving us some Biblical history according to their Mormon beliefs and provided some background on the building of the temple and the trek of pioneer Mormons from three Mid-western States from which they had been ostracized. (I remember Missouri and Illinois but my memory does not stretch to three). I will give you my impression of what they conveyed but I hasten to remind you that this is as I remember what they said, not necessarily what they said!
At each stop, an interesting "sermonizing" of the foundations of the Mormon faith was presented along with Church history and the development of the Temple, the Cathedral and the Meeting Place (Church in Protestant terms). Those of you who are familiar with my reluctance to be sermonized are no doubt wondering how I managed. It was one of my more indulgent moments. In the process, I learned that the Temple took eight years to build out of stone brought in by wagon from somewhere in Utah's outback; That the stones were very heavy, on occasion breaking the wagon beds on which they were carried; The Cathedral and Meeting Place were built in a much shorter time span; and the new Meeting Place was constructed from remnants of rock unsatisfactory for use in the Temple. The first Meeting Place is now used only for meetings, special occasions etc. I was particularly impressed with the commitment and devotion of those people who followed their leader, Brigham Young, from the mid-west through the rough rock strewn desert and mountainous terrain into Utah.
As the two young women did their "spiel" I could not help but applaud the devotion and loyalty that they and their peers seem to impart in both words and deed. Mormon I am not. However, many Mormons that I have personally known seem to be committed to their belief, practice what they preach, apply their convictions to everyday life and exhibit a devotion to the principles in which they believe. I know there are those who disagree with their belief, but it seems to me that tolerance is a key to survival of mankind and religious tolerance is a mandatory prerequisite. Certainly, there are those whose commitment to the ideals and principles espoused by the Church may be questioned. And, unquestionably, the Book of Mormon and the foundations of the Mormon belief can be open to debate and for many, is suspect. However, the Mormon Church, as well as Churches in general, is only as strong as the faith and the practices reflected through its members. From my viewpoint, it seems to be standing the test of time as well as any other. I know of no Religion that does not have its fair share of people whose convictions cannot be questioned.
I learned that the two "guides" are "missionaries" in the church. They serve for eighteen months and they pay their own way during their period of service. They apply for the mission field and the "hierarchy" of the Church (Governing Board of Bishops, elders or whatever) decides in what area of missions they will serve. They are assigned by the Board based on information provided in their application, education, background, interests and skills. Missionary candidates are dispatched throughout the world but their application is to serve at Temple Square. I understood them to say that once accepted and after their training, they may be dispatched anywhere in the World. I asked the young lady from Oregon what she would do upon completion of her mission and she said that she would probably return to college in Idaho, where she would finish her last year. I asked her what her major was and she said communications and public relations. I complemented her on what seemed to me a good choice in view of her warm personable manner.
In summary, I was very impressed with the number of young missionaries who could be seen walking through the courtyard to classes, meetings, assignments or whatever. The Mormon Church seems to have no problem enrolling its young people to its missions program and for that alone, they should be applauded. No smoke with a suspect odor was evident, all of the young lady "missionaries" were modestly dressed (not one single belly button was see n) hair was well groomed and not a single tatoo! The young men were clean shaven, their hair neat and well groomed, professionally dressed (suits and neckties) and they walked with purpose and apparent enthusiasm. As I viewed the buildings, listened to the history and observed the evidence of belief, I could not help but think that whatever else one may say about the Mormons, the way of life in which they believe and their commitment to their religious philosophy deserves our respect for it reflects principle, faith and hope. In my view, these are traits badly needed in our troubled society of today.
Wednesday was a day of travel with an overnight in Rexford Idaho, a beautiful sleepy farm/ranch town surrounded by the breathing room that few city dwellers ever experience. Rexford is less than 100 miles from Yellowstone where we will visit Old Faithful and observe first hand, up close and personal that phenomena of nature.
Thursday we did a "scenic" drive to view some spectacular waterfalls and beautiful country en route to our Yellowstone stop. The road was narrow but good with many steep grades. I complained strongly to the "pilot" of this rig and accused him of treating this 32 foot + coach with attached "towed" as a mini cruiser. I think that the next time he sees a scenic drive on a secondary road, he will think twice. At least, I hope so because if not, I am apt to express my dissatisfaction even more strongly! The drive was lovely and the scenery spectacular, but I would have enjoyed it more in our "towed".
Once ensconced in the RV Park of our choice, we were off to Yellowstone where the deer, the elk and the bison roam freely and old faithful and its many neighboring geysers spew forth with their steam, hot air and odors of sulphur. To every experience there must be some price! Once again I was appalled by the ravages of fire that remain to remind us of the perils of both lightening and man. This was my first trip to Yellowstone and it was, indeed, an awesome experience to see for the first time.
We entered Yellowstone at the West entrance and after pre programmed stops, proceeded to Jackson Wyoming where we spent the night. The next morning we entered Teton National Park and viewed the beautiful Tetons towering over us in silent majesty. In honor of Ken's birthday we did a raft float down the Snake River and much to my surprise, it was truly an enjoyable adventure. The river trip was beautiful with the Grand Tetons reinforcing my amazement at the grandeur of natures landscape. As my "pilot" navigated the roads in the park, I basked in the beauty of the Tetons, Yellowstone and the wild life that inhabits those wonderful treasures. Further, I was humbled by their silent reminder of how minuscule we humans really are in comparison to the marvels of nature and the earth on which we have been granted sanctuary.
There you have it, our second week on the road. We miss our friends who have returned to their busy world and home. We wish they could have joined us in our travels as we view the beautiful scenery and enjoy the wide open spaces. Tomorrow, Sunday we will continue on our high adventure into an area just outside of Glacier National Park where we will stop for a brief hello to Monica and Greg Held and their two children in Kalispell. Monica is a daughter of our friends, Bruce and Gwelda Haselman. We will say hello to the Helds and then proceed on into Canada missing Glacier National Park due to the forest fire that still plague the Park. Indeed, it seems that much of Montana is on fire. As I look out the windows of our coach, a dark cloud of smoke surrounds us. It is report that as many as 20 fires may be burning out of control throughout the State.
Don't forget to stay in touch and keep us in the loop in spite of our "gypsy" nature. I hope that you have all managed to avoid the latest computer virus. I am not sure that Terri has avoided it. We talked to Terri today and she expressed concern that she might be a victim. I surely hope not.
Mormon Temple
Old Faithful
Riding the Rapids
The Tetons
THERE YOU HAVE IT!
Monday morning August 11, we departed Camp Verde, Arizona for our first stop on the road, St George Utah. We arrived St George at 530P weary from a full days drive. Most of the territory had been covered before but the drive past the North Rim of the Grand Canyon was beautiful and our entry into this area of Utah gave us another view of that State.
Tuesday morning we were up early in readiness for what was to be a five hour trip to Provo. Once the RV was "bedded", we departed for a scenic view of Bridal Veil Falls up Provo Canyon and then over the pass into Park City where we spent a skiing holiday with the children in the early 70's. Of course, nothing remains the same and just as growth and building has overtaken every city, town and State, Park City was a victim of progress. It was not at all as we remembered it. No surprise there.
From Park City we dropped down to Salt Lake City where we visited Temple Square and the Mormon compound located therein. During our walk through the Visitors Center, a friendly "sleuth" directed Ken to a flagpole" in the middle of the square for a free tour and history of the Mormon pilgrimage West to Utah. The tours, 30-minutes in duration are conducted every 10 minutes. Free tour? Of course, Ken was interested!
As we approached the area of the flagpole, we were welcomed by two personable young ladies whose job it was to make us comfortable, reassure us that our guides would be along momentarily and, I suspicion, keep us interested while we waited the few minutes until the next scheduled tour. Our guides, two young attractive college age, charismatic ladies appeared and introduced themselves by name (which I failed to note). One girl was from Oregon. The second one was from the Philippines and, of course, I didn't get her name either. They began their "pitch" by giving us some Biblical history according to their Mormon beliefs and provided some background on the building of the temple and the trek of pioneer Mormons from three Mid-western States from which they had been ostracized. (I remember Missouri and Illinois but my memory does not stretch to three). I will give you my impression of what they conveyed but I hasten to remind you that this is as I remember what they said, not necessarily what they said!
At each stop, an interesting "sermonizing" of the foundations of the Mormon faith was presented along with Church history and the development of the Temple, the Cathedral and the Meeting Place (Church in Protestant terms). Those of you who are familiar with my reluctance to be sermonized are no doubt wondering how I managed. It was one of my more indulgent moments. In the process, I learned that the Temple took eight years to build out of stone brought in by wagon from somewhere in Utah's outback; That the stones were very heavy, on occasion breaking the wagon beds on which they were carried; The Cathedral and Meeting Place were built in a much shorter time span; and the new Meeting Place was constructed from remnants of rock unsatisfactory for use in the Temple. The first Meeting Place is now used only for meetings, special occasions etc. I was particularly impressed with the commitment and devotion of those people who followed their leader, Brigham Young, from the mid-west through the rough rock strewn desert and mountainous terrain into Utah.
As the two young women did their "spiel" I could not help but applaud the devotion and loyalty that they and their peers seem to impart in both words and deed. Mormon I am not. However, many Mormons that I have personally known seem to be committed to their belief, practice what they preach, apply their convictions to everyday life and exhibit a devotion to the principles in which they believe. I know there are those who disagree with their belief, but it seems to me that tolerance is a key to survival of mankind and religious tolerance is a mandatory prerequisite. Certainly, there are those whose commitment to the ideals and principles espoused by the Church may be questioned. And, unquestionably, the Book of Mormon and the foundations of the Mormon belief can be open to debate and for many, is suspect. However, the Mormon Church, as well as Churches in general, is only as strong as the faith and the practices reflected through its members. From my viewpoint, it seems to be standing the test of time as well as any other. I know of no Religion that does not have its fair share of people whose convictions cannot be questioned.
I learned that the two "guides" are "missionaries" in the church. They serve for eighteen months and they pay their own way during their period of service. They apply for the mission field and the "hierarchy" of the Church (Governing Board of Bishops, elders or whatever) decides in what area of missions they will serve. They are assigned by the Board based on information provided in their application, education, background, interests and skills. Missionary candidates are dispatched throughout the world but their application is to serve at Temple Square. I understood them to say that once accepted and after their training, they may be dispatched anywhere in the World. I asked the young lady from Oregon what she would do upon completion of her mission and she said that she would probably return to college in Idaho, where she would finish her last year. I asked her what her major was and she said communications and public relations. I complemented her on what seemed to me a good choice in view of her warm personable manner.
In summary, I was very impressed with the number of young missionaries who could be seen walking through the courtyard to classes, meetings, assignments or whatever. The Mormon Church seems to have no problem enrolling its young people to its missions program and for that alone, they should be applauded. No smoke with a suspect odor was evident, all of the young lady "missionaries" were modestly dressed (not one single belly button was see n) hair was well groomed and not a single tatoo! The young men were clean shaven, their hair neat and well groomed, professionally dressed (suits and neckties) and they walked with purpose and apparent enthusiasm. As I viewed the buildings, listened to the history and observed the evidence of belief, I could not help but think that whatever else one may say about the Mormons, the way of life in which they believe and their commitment to their religious philosophy deserves our respect for it reflects principle, faith and hope. In my view, these are traits badly needed in our troubled society of today.
Wednesday was a day of travel with an overnight in Rexford Idaho, a beautiful sleepy farm/ranch town surrounded by the breathing room that few city dwellers ever experience. Rexford is less than 100 miles from Yellowstone where we will visit Old Faithful and observe first hand, up close and personal that phenomena of nature.
Thursday we did a "scenic" drive to view some spectacular waterfalls and beautiful country en route to our Yellowstone stop. The road was narrow but good with many steep grades. I complained strongly to the "pilot" of this rig and accused him of treating this 32 foot + coach with attached "towed" as a mini cruiser. I think that the next time he sees a scenic drive on a secondary road, he will think twice. At least, I hope so because if not, I am apt to express my dissatisfaction even more strongly! The drive was lovely and the scenery spectacular, but I would have enjoyed it more in our "towed".
Once ensconced in the RV Park of our choice, we were off to Yellowstone where the deer, the elk and the bison roam freely and old faithful and its many neighboring geysers spew forth with their steam, hot air and odors of sulphur. To every experience there must be some price! Once again I was appalled by the ravages of fire that remain to remind us of the perils of both lightening and man. This was my first trip to Yellowstone and it was, indeed, an awesome experience to see for the first time.
We entered Yellowstone at the West entrance and after pre programmed stops, proceeded to Jackson Wyoming where we spent the night. The next morning we entered Teton National Park and viewed the beautiful Tetons towering over us in silent majesty. In honor of Ken's birthday we did a raft float down the Snake River and much to my surprise, it was truly an enjoyable adventure. The river trip was beautiful with the Grand Tetons reinforcing my amazement at the grandeur of natures landscape. As my "pilot" navigated the roads in the park, I basked in the beauty of the Tetons, Yellowstone and the wild life that inhabits those wonderful treasures. Further, I was humbled by their silent reminder of how minuscule we humans really are in comparison to the marvels of nature and the earth on which we have been granted sanctuary.
There you have it, our second week on the road. We miss our friends who have returned to their busy world and home. We wish they could have joined us in our travels as we view the beautiful scenery and enjoy the wide open spaces. Tomorrow, Sunday we will continue on our high adventure into an area just outside of Glacier National Park where we will stop for a brief hello to Monica and Greg Held and their two children in Kalispell. Monica is a daughter of our friends, Bruce and Gwelda Haselman. We will say hello to the Helds and then proceed on into Canada missing Glacier National Park due to the forest fire that still plague the Park. Indeed, it seems that much of Montana is on fire. As I look out the windows of our coach, a dark cloud of smoke surrounds us. It is report that as many as 20 fires may be burning out of control throughout the State.
Don't forget to stay in touch and keep us in the loop in spite of our "gypsy" nature. I hope that you have all managed to avoid the latest computer virus. I am not sure that Terri has avoided it. We talked to Terri today and she expressed concern that she might be a victim. I surely hope not.
Mormon Temple
Old Faithful
Riding the Rapids
The Tetons
THERE YOU HAVE IT!
Sunday, August 10, 2003
AND NOW FOR THE REST OF THE WEEK!
Group of Six with Orange hats
On Thursday Ken's brother Don joined us for a guided tour of the former mining town of Jerome, the museum and the history of the mine that once provided jobs to a community of 15,000. The trip was concluded by a visit to the Gold King mine and the graveyard of relics that were once state of the art tools, vehicles and devices of another era. The highlight of this visit for the men was "Big Bertha". According to Ken it was a gigantic three cylinder engine with a flywheel approximately ten foot in diameter that once ran a generator to supply the mining town with electricity. It was so big that it required a tractor engine to start it up. The men delighted in the sound of the old motor as it wheezed its way into life and clamored through its dramatic presentation aided by a medium sized old cowboy with a beard down to his chest and a twinkle in his eye. I think it would be fair to attribute the ladies assessment of this experience as a trip to the junkyard and I might not disagree. However, I have visited there twice and each time I come away with not only the realization that I have visited a junk yard but also with a reenforcement of my convictions that our world has progressed remarkably and that what is now high tech was once a man's vision that he dared to translate into reality, however crude his first efforts.
Big Bertha with Caretaker
Our visit to Jerome was completed with lunch at the Haunted Hamburger where we enjoyed our individual food tastes from a view overlooking the vast Verde Valley where Indians once roamed and modern man now transforms.
Friday was spent wandering the around the beautiful red rocks of Sedona. It started with casing out the plane rides for an overview of the area and while the would be passengers pondered their flight we returned to downtown old Sedona for a walk through the many art galleries that display the work of the local artists. Bob and Kitty used this time of browsing by the art buffs for a flight through the skies and an overview of the area. Upon their return we circumnavigated the area by car and though one would be hard pressed to cite one beautiful scene over another, a visit to Frank Lloyd Wright's, Cathedral Rock Chapel, built among the beautiful red rocks of Sedoona, was both an inspiring and spiritually uplifting experience, however short lived it may have been. After our brief encounter with the red rocks, we sped up the highway to Oak Creek Canyon for a visit to Slide Rock State Park. Our children Gary and Terri had many summer adventures enjoying the cool water that streams down over the rocks to creates a natural rock slide. As children, they would spend their summers with their grandparents in Prescott and at least once each summer, their grandparents, with Uncle Don and Aunt Barbara when available, would accompany them to Slide Rock and Oak Creek Canyon for a few days camping. Ken, Marvis and Kitty went prepared for a slide down the rock, but alas, a storm was brewing and all decided that they had best look to the sky for direction. The response was quick in the form of a flash of lightening and a clash of thunder. How specific can one get? Obviously the vortex can work.
Thankfully I seem to have survived the time share presentation exercise and our friends appeared to forgive me their brief encounter with the wild world of time share marketing. Bob and Kitty left early Saturday morning for Las Vegas and their flight home. Bob and Marvis are on their way home as I write this. We left them off at Phoenix last evening for a nights rest in preparation for their early morning flight out. We will miss our four buddies from our shared trip to Spain and Portugal where we first met. We consider them good friends and great traveling companions. For a bunch of hard headed independent minded people, we all have a great time.
En route to Phoenix, we drove Marvis and Bob over the mountain into Prescott for an introduction to that area that we were informed now belongs to former Californians. Prescott used to be a quaint little laid back "cattle" town but alas, it has grown leaps and bounds in the 50 years since I visited it for the first time as a bride. Ken and I were in shock at the changes that have transpired since we were last there in 1997. New communities now flourish where once beautiful ranches and farms existed. Progress can be sad for those who cherish memories of another time. Alas, time marches on and leaves no stone untouched. Our visit to Prescott was capped off by a visit to the "Art fair" which was interesting and representative of the area. I think that Marvis and Bob enjoyed their brief visit to Prescott. Prescott, though missing the beautiful scenery of the red rocks, seems to me more inviting and down to earth than Sedona. For me, Sedona seems to radiate an air of snobbery in spite of its "vortex". Give me a break!
After our visit to Prescott we headed down the mountain to Phoenix where we were greeted by 114 degree temperatures. Of course, that was only 10 or 14 degrees higher than what we had experienced throughout the week, but our ability to cope was beginning to be challenged.
There you have it. A week in the Hills with the awesome six. Kitty thought she would probably dream in red for the near future and Marvis promised to paint them. Something for everyone.
By the way, did I cover the orange hats before? We received many comments on our orange hats as we walked the streets, climbed the rocks and waded the creeks. The hats were our "trademark" and we had a ball as one after another we sauntered down the streets. We were out to have a good time and the orange caps helped us include the masses who walked with us, intentionally or not. If one tarried a bit long, all we had to ask was, "have you seen any orange hats go by?" It worked.
Ken and I are off to St George Utah tomorrow on the first leg of our "Canada bound" excursion. Tune in for further reports of our adventures on the road. I'll try to provide weekly updates whenever possible.
Have a good week.
Group of Six with Orange hats
On Thursday Ken's brother Don joined us for a guided tour of the former mining town of Jerome, the museum and the history of the mine that once provided jobs to a community of 15,000. The trip was concluded by a visit to the Gold King mine and the graveyard of relics that were once state of the art tools, vehicles and devices of another era. The highlight of this visit for the men was "Big Bertha". According to Ken it was a gigantic three cylinder engine with a flywheel approximately ten foot in diameter that once ran a generator to supply the mining town with electricity. It was so big that it required a tractor engine to start it up. The men delighted in the sound of the old motor as it wheezed its way into life and clamored through its dramatic presentation aided by a medium sized old cowboy with a beard down to his chest and a twinkle in his eye. I think it would be fair to attribute the ladies assessment of this experience as a trip to the junkyard and I might not disagree. However, I have visited there twice and each time I come away with not only the realization that I have visited a junk yard but also with a reenforcement of my convictions that our world has progressed remarkably and that what is now high tech was once a man's vision that he dared to translate into reality, however crude his first efforts.
Big Bertha with Caretaker
Our visit to Jerome was completed with lunch at the Haunted Hamburger where we enjoyed our individual food tastes from a view overlooking the vast Verde Valley where Indians once roamed and modern man now transforms.
Friday was spent wandering the around the beautiful red rocks of Sedona. It started with casing out the plane rides for an overview of the area and while the would be passengers pondered their flight we returned to downtown old Sedona for a walk through the many art galleries that display the work of the local artists. Bob and Kitty used this time of browsing by the art buffs for a flight through the skies and an overview of the area. Upon their return we circumnavigated the area by car and though one would be hard pressed to cite one beautiful scene over another, a visit to Frank Lloyd Wright's, Cathedral Rock Chapel, built among the beautiful red rocks of Sedoona, was both an inspiring and spiritually uplifting experience, however short lived it may have been. After our brief encounter with the red rocks, we sped up the highway to Oak Creek Canyon for a visit to Slide Rock State Park. Our children Gary and Terri had many summer adventures enjoying the cool water that streams down over the rocks to creates a natural rock slide. As children, they would spend their summers with their grandparents in Prescott and at least once each summer, their grandparents, with Uncle Don and Aunt Barbara when available, would accompany them to Slide Rock and Oak Creek Canyon for a few days camping. Ken, Marvis and Kitty went prepared for a slide down the rock, but alas, a storm was brewing and all decided that they had best look to the sky for direction. The response was quick in the form of a flash of lightening and a clash of thunder. How specific can one get? Obviously the vortex can work.
Thankfully I seem to have survived the time share presentation exercise and our friends appeared to forgive me their brief encounter with the wild world of time share marketing. Bob and Kitty left early Saturday morning for Las Vegas and their flight home. Bob and Marvis are on their way home as I write this. We left them off at Phoenix last evening for a nights rest in preparation for their early morning flight out. We will miss our four buddies from our shared trip to Spain and Portugal where we first met. We consider them good friends and great traveling companions. For a bunch of hard headed independent minded people, we all have a great time.
En route to Phoenix, we drove Marvis and Bob over the mountain into Prescott for an introduction to that area that we were informed now belongs to former Californians. Prescott used to be a quaint little laid back "cattle" town but alas, it has grown leaps and bounds in the 50 years since I visited it for the first time as a bride. Ken and I were in shock at the changes that have transpired since we were last there in 1997. New communities now flourish where once beautiful ranches and farms existed. Progress can be sad for those who cherish memories of another time. Alas, time marches on and leaves no stone untouched. Our visit to Prescott was capped off by a visit to the "Art fair" which was interesting and representative of the area. I think that Marvis and Bob enjoyed their brief visit to Prescott. Prescott, though missing the beautiful scenery of the red rocks, seems to me more inviting and down to earth than Sedona. For me, Sedona seems to radiate an air of snobbery in spite of its "vortex". Give me a break!
After our visit to Prescott we headed down the mountain to Phoenix where we were greeted by 114 degree temperatures. Of course, that was only 10 or 14 degrees higher than what we had experienced throughout the week, but our ability to cope was beginning to be challenged.
There you have it. A week in the Hills with the awesome six. Kitty thought she would probably dream in red for the near future and Marvis promised to paint them. Something for everyone.
By the way, did I cover the orange hats before? We received many comments on our orange hats as we walked the streets, climbed the rocks and waded the creeks. The hats were our "trademark" and we had a ball as one after another we sauntered down the streets. We were out to have a good time and the orange caps helped us include the masses who walked with us, intentionally or not. If one tarried a bit long, all we had to ask was, "have you seen any orange hats go by?" It worked.
Ken and I are off to St George Utah tomorrow on the first leg of our "Canada bound" excursion. Tune in for further reports of our adventures on the road. I'll try to provide weekly updates whenever possible.
Have a good week.
Thursday, August 07, 2003
QUICK NOTE FROM THE ROAD
We are back in the mountains of Arizona though our primary location is really in the great Verde Valley and Sedona where the beautiful red rocks confront our view and incite our imagination with beauty and awe.
Tuesday we visited Montezuma's Castle and Montezuma's Well where we paid tribute to the Indians that once roamed the hills and canyons of this area. Montezuma's Castle is but one of many similar remaining reminders of the life of the Indians whose freedom and lifestyle we usurped. However, it is difficult to imagine how hard their life must have been. As one looks upon the remaining facade of the abode called Montezuma's Castle, one is reminded that a "man's home is his castle" and that "home is where the heart is" but truthfully, I had trouble applying either of those "cliches" to the small space carved in the rocks high above the ground. I lack humility, I think.
Wednesday the six of us took the Verde Valley train from Clarkdale along the Verde River through the canyons to Perkinsville where the engines were moved to the back of the train and we made our way back the same route from which we entered. It was a scenic trip through the canyons as eagles soared above us amid visions of fairy tales and historic faces seemingly carved in the cliffs along the route. One would have to spend many hours in obsessive mental imaging to find those visions but fortunately for us, someone had done due diligence.
I must confess to always trying to be on the alert to an opportunity. Upon learning that a time share presentation would provide free first class tickets to the train ride, I talked our friends into an experience that may have severely stressed our friendship, a time share presentation! Our friends, Marvis and Bob, had never experienced the sheer exhaustion of such an undertaking before and upon conclusion of the hell into which I had sacrificed their time, vowed to never attend another. I am sure there is no enticement sufficient to allure them into a repeat experience and I am sure my future recommendations will forever be viewed as suspect. Bob and Kitty had attended time share presentations and thus, were better prepared to "cope" with the hell to which I had subjected them. My thought was that 90 minutes of time was worth the train trip but Marvis is still working and thus, places a higher value on her time than I do on mine as a retired "fixed income" person. I understand Marvis' position and it is not unlike my attitude when I was working and my vacations were sacred. I am not sure that either couple considered the train ride worth the misery of a time share presentation but I wanted our friends to experience life to the fullest. However, this may have been an experience they could have done without but it will add to repertoire of stories that may forever be retold as the "experience from hell".
Today we are visiting Jerome and perhaps taking a trek over Mingus Mountain to Prescott if our friends are still committed to our viability as a tour guide.
We are back in the mountains of Arizona though our primary location is really in the great Verde Valley and Sedona where the beautiful red rocks confront our view and incite our imagination with beauty and awe.
Tuesday we visited Montezuma's Castle and Montezuma's Well where we paid tribute to the Indians that once roamed the hills and canyons of this area. Montezuma's Castle is but one of many similar remaining reminders of the life of the Indians whose freedom and lifestyle we usurped. However, it is difficult to imagine how hard their life must have been. As one looks upon the remaining facade of the abode called Montezuma's Castle, one is reminded that a "man's home is his castle" and that "home is where the heart is" but truthfully, I had trouble applying either of those "cliches" to the small space carved in the rocks high above the ground. I lack humility, I think.
Wednesday the six of us took the Verde Valley train from Clarkdale along the Verde River through the canyons to Perkinsville where the engines were moved to the back of the train and we made our way back the same route from which we entered. It was a scenic trip through the canyons as eagles soared above us amid visions of fairy tales and historic faces seemingly carved in the cliffs along the route. One would have to spend many hours in obsessive mental imaging to find those visions but fortunately for us, someone had done due diligence.
I must confess to always trying to be on the alert to an opportunity. Upon learning that a time share presentation would provide free first class tickets to the train ride, I talked our friends into an experience that may have severely stressed our friendship, a time share presentation! Our friends, Marvis and Bob, had never experienced the sheer exhaustion of such an undertaking before and upon conclusion of the hell into which I had sacrificed their time, vowed to never attend another. I am sure there is no enticement sufficient to allure them into a repeat experience and I am sure my future recommendations will forever be viewed as suspect. Bob and Kitty had attended time share presentations and thus, were better prepared to "cope" with the hell to which I had subjected them. My thought was that 90 minutes of time was worth the train trip but Marvis is still working and thus, places a higher value on her time than I do on mine as a retired "fixed income" person. I understand Marvis' position and it is not unlike my attitude when I was working and my vacations were sacred. I am not sure that either couple considered the train ride worth the misery of a time share presentation but I wanted our friends to experience life to the fullest. However, this may have been an experience they could have done without but it will add to repertoire of stories that may forever be retold as the "experience from hell".
Today we are visiting Jerome and perhaps taking a trek over Mingus Mountain to Prescott if our friends are still committed to our viability as a tour guide.
Saturday, July 05, 2003
Friday, July 04, 2003
Hope you all had a great fourth of July.
A word of thanks to my dear nephew and his wife who keep me up and running on this site, no matter how many blunders I manage to achieve in a given blog.
Thank you Michael and Jeanne.
AND AWAY WE WENT
June 8th the Burns and Helmstetter families shared a day of celebration in honor of grandson, Sean's, graduation from elementary school. Sean's parents, their two proud families and friends attended the ceremony followed by a family gathering complete with a beautiful three tier cake made and decorated by Marci. It was both beautiful and tasty. It was a fine family day celebrated with pride and just a smattering of melancholy by yours truly. The little ones grow up too soon. Of course, our 14 year old welcomed the gifts in honor of the occasion oblivious to any personal anxieties that are uniquely mine as a result of this Grandma's problems with the aging process. Tsk tsk .
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Sean
Grad cake
As the celebration was winding down, the aging Burns', Ken and Pat, escaped to our waiting chariot and its attached "dinghy" for the start of a 10 day trip with Don and Linda (Ken's brother and sister in law) . We wanted to get out of town and miss the Monday morning LA traffic. Confident that we had escaped the "roar" of Monday morning, we stopped at a rest area outside of San Bernardino for a few hours before going on. We stopped again in Indio and after breakfast drove on into Camp Verde Arizona, arriving there about 3PM, June 9.
Don and Linda joined us Tuesday morning, the 10th, for the first leg of our ten day trip. Our first stop was Wupatki National Monument (link) going North on Highway 89 from Flagstaff to Tuba City.
http://www.nps.gov/wupa/
(If you cannot access this site by double clicking your mouse, highlight, copy and paste into your browser.)
Wupatki
After a brief "walk around" the site, we continued our trek north to Monument Valley where we spent the night at Goulding's RV Resort. Ken and I visited the awesome and statuesquely beautiful assemblage of rock formations in Monument Valley in 1998. Our second visit was no less appreciative as we viewed with wonder those beautiful rock sculptures developed through the ages by the genius of erosion, time and formations of mineral deposits.
Two pictures from Monument Valley
MONUMENT VALLEY
http://www.go-utah.com/monument_valley/
From Monument Valley, we proceeded to Four Corners where Ken posed with hands and knees on each of the four corners, New Mexico, Utah, Arizona and Colorado. He complained that I took too long to shoot the picture because the cement was very hot and he was sure he was suffering long term burns. He survived and "nary" a blister. In my view, other than saying you have been to this location, there is little else to create any urgency for the trip. As our friend Bruce would say, "I didn't leave anything there!".
From our brief stop over at Four Corners, we climbed the steep mountain road into Mesa Verde National Monument where we camped for the night and at twilight, attended a ranger's outdoor amphitheater lecture on the many things to do and see while there. Our "night out" in this 8,000 foot elevation was cool in spite of jackets but the ranger cut no slack. He was in short shirt sleeves and in response to an inquiry from the audience said, "I saved up enough heat from the day to enjoy the cool of the night"..
Mesa Verde National Park was established by Congress on 29 June 1906. It was the first cultural park set aside in the National Park System. Mesa Verde National Park was also designated as a World Cultural Heritage Site on September 8, 1978 by UNESCO, an United Nations organization formed to preserve and protect both the cultural and natural heritage of designated international sites. These pre-Columbian cliff dwellings and other works of early people are the most notable and best preserved in the United States.
Designations:
* National Park - June 29, 1906
* Wilderness Designated - October 20, 1976
* World Heritage Site - September 6, 1978
Read more: http://www.mesa.verde.national-park.com/
The next morning Ken, Don and Linda toured the ruins of The Cliff Palace. They were pleased that the same ranger conduct their tour. I didn't go choosing instead to wait nearby, enjoy my book, bask in the silence and watch the people. There were many steps, ladders and some narrow walkways that induced me to exercise caution in lieu of my fear of heights, overweight status as an adventurer and plain laziness.
When they returned, they seemed to agree that I had made the right decision. One thing for sure, I didn't need to get caught in a small hole of an old Indian ruin at this point in my life. After the Cliff Palace Tour, we drove through the park, viewed several Indian ruins and gorges from view points within the park, visited the museum and returned to our "chariot" (la Bus) and made our way on to our next adventure.
CLIFF PALACE AND THE TOUR
After our mornings explorations at Mesa Verde, we descended the mountain road from whence we ascended the day before and enjoyed the drive through the scenic Colorado countryside to Durango.
We stopped at a RV park located alongside the Animus River, overlooking the tracks of the Durango-Silverton Railroad. We arrived just in time to hear the train approaching from its daily trip to Silverton. As it made its way down the track exuding a combination of smoke and steam. As the train passed us with its mournful horn sounding more distant, like excited little children, we climbed into our "towed" (dinghy) and headed into town to see the train's arrival at the station.
Of course, the boys made an inquiry as to the availability of tickets for the next days adventure up the mountain and upon learning that room was available, with little discussion and no abstinations` tickets were purchased for the 830 AM train to Silverton. The men folk had accomplished their goal and were now ready to eath. Back at "la bus", dinner was prepared and the evening topped off with entertainment from our satellite. Our early date with the DSNGRR (Durango-Silverton Narrow Gauge Rail Road) seemed motivation enough for an early night and thus, concluded June 12th, our third day on the road.
In view of our early scheduled departure, we were up, had breakfast and on the road by 7A. Once at the depot, we had plenty of time before boarding the train at 745A. A trip through the railroad museum occupied our group, while I sat watching over jackets, cameras and items of refreshments considered imperative to our ride on the "tracks". The high altitude seemed to "slow" me down a bit.
As the train huffed its way up the the narrow mountain pass, the Animus River flowed briskly beside us and the beauty of the great outdoors and the magnificent views of the still snow capped mountain above surrounded us. I was so "taken" by the excitement of the train and the beauty around us, I called our friends Gwelda and Bruce to encourage them to speed up their participation in retirement adventures. Not able to get through to them, we left a message, "eat you heart out - wish you were here". Another call was placed to our son Gary, from whom we learned that we had been deprived parents. He and Marci did the trip bc (before children). Alas, we are behind the times!
Once in Silverton, one gets an idea of the tremendous motivation for wealth that prompted those who searched, gambled and won(or lost as the case may be) in their quest for wealth and adventure. Those old timers surely had more ambition and "umph" than our modern day dot.com entrepreneurs who demand six figure incomes from venture capitalists to fail! Times have changed, indeed. The sacrifices that have been made by our pioneers to bring our country and its wealth to this point in history, are rarely viewed from a price paid perspective. Like so many things, we seem to have also lost respect for individual initiative. Too bad!
Once Silverton was a thriving mining town. Today its existence depends on the tourist crowd that seeks the adventure and lore of a ride on the narrow gauge railroad, the scenic beauty of the route and those who long for a look back into time. It was a wonderful day. We were a happy group of "campers" as we arrived back at the train station, toured the museum and returned to "la bus" for dinner. Our day had been filled with sights, sounds and inspiration provided by a day of exploration in the great outdoors.
[more]
http://www.railsnw.com/tours/durango/durango01nf.htm
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The view below
That was snow on them thar mountains
Silverton
We had originally intended to ascend the mountain pass from Durango to Silverton via "la bus". After our train ride and upon further analysis, we recognized that the route would transition a pass in excess of 10,000 foot elevation on a winding, narrow road that looked taxing even for cars, never mind a 34 foot bus with a "towed".
Our good judgment prevailed and thankfully, the powers that be (Don and Ken) decided to forego the adventure of the "climb". For those of you who have known me in our sailing days, my anxieties on mountain roads rivals my anxiety at sea when the boat heels at a 45 degree angle. I am not a "relaxed" happy camper under either circumstance. Thus on our fifth day of adventure, (June 14) we took the longer less scenic but still beautiful route to Montrose, Colorado en route to Gunnison where we were to have a few days of relaxation from the rigors of travel.
As we traveled through the mountain passes and valleys of beautiful Colorado we were "smitten" by the beauty of the State. Of course, we were mindful of the winter snow to which skiers aspire but uninviting to those who have long since passed their prime for "snow". Nevertheless, we enjoyed our drive and outside of Montrose, we stopped at a RV park where we enjoyed a relaxing evening of dinner and television.
Father's day, we drove to Ouray, Colorado, a little town nestled in the mountains of Colorado to which Don and Ken's parents traveled many times. They loved that "swiss" mountain town and at one time they had considered purchasing property there. They were negotiating for a house in the middle of town when the Police Chief's wife (or some similar person of authority) backed into their car. The Police Chief gave Ken's dad a ticket. Indignant with his handling, Ken's dad ended the negotiation and as far as I know, he never returned to Ouray. However, through the years both parents spoke warmly of this quaint little town, nestled high in the mountains of Colorado. Knowing Ken's dad, we could all understand his infatuation with the town, its history and its resources that, according to the sign, "fueled the industrial revolution and financed two World Wars".
We drove up the mountain toward Silverton (the road we would have come down if we had not "chickened out") and viewed the large reclamation project that is being undertaken by the Neumont Mining Company. The gold and silver mine extends through the mountains for miles and the wealth that has been removed from "them thar hills" makes one shake their head in disbelief.
What a wonderful period in our history. Too few people stop to appreciate the price and sacrifices that have been made to make our country what it is. Our life and current standard of living did not just happen, there are many who have paid a great price for that which we take for granted today.
As wonderful as it is to welcome to our country and its freedom those who wish to have a better life, it seems that too often those people want to bring their culture, their way of life and their shortcomings with them. Once here, many seem to want to implement the things that kept their country from achieving the kind of freedom and standard of life that we cherish. Therein may rest the foundation for the demise of the way of life that our forefathers provided. Only time can tell. EOS (End of sermon).
View from Idarado Mine.
After our quick venture into Ouray and its great mining history, we returned to Montrose, returned our car to a "towed" and drove "la bus" to Gunnison. Our day included a stop over at the Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park and we viewed from its canyon cliffs the Gunnison River flowing briskly and noisily through the deep gorge below, another extravaganza of "Mother Earth". The Canyon is not as spectacularly beautiful as the Grand Canyon but the depth of the cliffs that have been carved by this mighty river pays tribute to the power of its spell. I was somewhat intimidated by the depth of the gorge hence, I chose not to get too "close" to the edge and stayed in the coach. However, I was able to see enough of the canyon as we drove along the road above to conclude that a drop from the cliff was a drop to whatever lies beyond this life. I had no desire to test the patience of my fellow travelers by providing an opportunity for them to "lose" me in the Black Canyon of the Gunnison. NOSIREE!
Black Canyon of the Gunnison
After our brief stint at exploring the byways, we arrived at Blue Mesa, our RV resort outside Gunnison. Once parked, camp set up (room extended awning out and carpet laid) the "towed" was returned to vehicle status and we were ready for our drive into Gunnison for a Father's Day dinner out for Ken and Don. Linda and I discussed a possible Father's Day gift for the two but since neither of them looked old enough to be our father and I'm not sure we would claim them if they were, we ignored that aspect of the day. However, we did agree that we would treat them to dinner out and we did. We had a wonderful dinner with a charming waitress, originally from Wisconsin who is supplementing her lifestyle as a waitress while attending college in Gunnison. We later met a man in Camp Verde who had attended that college. He said that the college there has a reputation for offering an excellent marketing program and that was what our waitress was pursuing.
A visit to the local Walmart provided Ken with a one day fishing permit. We were all anticipating a fresh fish supper the next night.. Contrary to our premature expectations, we had to be satisfied with "camp fare" which on this particular evening was a tri tip roast hot off the grill, baked potatoes and a fresh garden salad. Hot fudge sundaes and television topped off the evenings dinner and entertainment. Roughing it sure does get tedious.
The next morning Monday, July 17 we crossed over the great Divide at Monarch Pass, 13,000 foot above sea level. As we drove through the pass we were accompanied by the Arkansas River where we waved to rafters as they foraged the rapids in what Linda referred to as "bottom bumpers". As we waved and snapped pictures of the water adventurers we looked forward to visiting the Royal Gorge where we hoped to get even better pictures from the bridge that spans the gorge.
Alas, after traveling the several miles into that commercialized activity, we elected that $18 each for entry into the Gorge was too much for our brief stay. We did not resent paying an entry fee, but their entry fee encompassed a look at the Gorge, a ride on the train into the Gorge itself, a walk across the bridge and entertainment park concessions "ala Disneyland". The price was too "rich" for a 30 minute view. All but Linda had been there before and she nixed the "investment". So it was that we "shined the "gorge" on and refused to patronize the greed of that enterprise. We support free enterprise but there is free enterprise and there is "fee enterprise". However, the trip was not a total failure. We had lunch and on the way out, Don was able to get a good picture of a deer and one of the bridge over the Gorge for our memory folder.
Royal Gorge Bridge
We pressed on toward Walsenberg, our destination for the night. A quick reference to our "parks" guide, revealed Lathrop State Park just outside of Walsenberg. Our driver "honed" in on the park and in no time flat, we were settled in a nice roomy site and dinner was served. After dinner, the men folks enjoyed a noisy action DVD while Linda and I tried to concentrate on a game of Scrabble with the surround sound of the movie vibrating the walls of the coach and stilling our mental agility. At last the men had found a place where they could play the DVD loud and no one but their wives to complain.
The next morning we made our way over the pass into New Mexico. We had lunch in a small interesting New Mexican restaurant as we drove through Taos. It was a "local" place with our food cooked to order. It satisfied our need for a noon meal, and we felt good that we had patronized a local enterprise, for better or for worse.
After our lunch, we continued our trek to a RV Park half way between Taos and Santa Fe. Ken paid for a "one day" fishing permit and tried his luck at the stocked lake. He caught four catfish but two got away (does that sound like a fish story or not?) In spite of a heavily infested area of mosquitoes that we avoided, the camp site proved to be comfortable enough in spite of our convictions that it would not meet Gwelda's criteria for acceptable accommodations.
The next morning June 19, we visited Santa Fe and enjoyed lunch at a local restaurant where the "chaps" were most indulgent to two old "grays" with orange caps. At Monarch Pass Ken found an orange cap that he thought would help me identify him in a crowd. He decided that I should have one also. Thus, we both toured Santa Fe with our orange caps adorning our gray hair to identify one to another. The chaps at the restaurants were amused by our rather unorthodox style - at least they seemed to be.
From Santa Fe we ventured down the hill into Albuquerque. We had planned to spend the night in Albuquerque and say hello to Bruce and Gwelda but Bruce was out of town, Gwelda was recuperating from a back spasm suffered in Key West, as well as entertaining visiting grandchildren and preparing for a visit from daughter Monica and family the next day. Since we were pressed for time so we decided to go on and get a head start on the remainder of our trip. We ended up spending the night in a RV Park and Horse Motel near Belen, New Mexico. The name sounded a little strange and it would definitely not meet Gwelda's criteria for a "sleep over", it proved not to be too bad. We decided that the owner needed to put more emphasis on the RV motel and less on the hotel motel but who knows, maybe in Belen New Mexico, horse motels are as important as RV parks. How would we city folk know?
We rather enjoyed a "stint" around the barnyard. There was an accumulation of animals i.e., ducks, geese, chickens, goats, horses, pigs, (including two pot bellies)` turkeys, rabbits and goodness knows what else. It was a little aromatic in spots, but otherwise not a bad overnight stop. The early morning's crow of the roosters reminded us of the Caribbean and the smell brought back memories of my farm days of long ago.
As we crossed the valley from Soccoro to the Datil Mountains and Magdalena (where we had our problem with the door latch in December), we were curious about the many large satellite dish devices that stood in a line before us. Ken remembered that they were radio telescopes from our last "pass by" but we did not fully understand the enterprise. As we drew closer there was a sign that identified the project as a Very Large Array. Curious for more information (inquiring minds you know), we drove to the visitors center. There we learned that this was the World's largest assemblage of radio telescopes, covering a distance of many miles. The radio satellites are placed in a Y shaped design over several hundred acres and moved by rail, throughout the project as necessary to maintain a tracking signal. It was an educational experience and one that we enjoyed greatly. The satellites are huge and the project mammoth.
According to the VLA website, " The National Radio Astronomy Observatory is a facility of the National Science Foundation , operated under cooperative agreement by Associated Universities, Inc .The project was authorized by Congress in 1972 dedicated in 1980,. It cost $78,578,000 dollars, (approximately $1 per taxpayer in 1978 dollars). The project came in within budget and nearly one year early. What a concept! It is a facility of the National Science Foundation and operated under a cooperative agreement by Associated Universities. The facility is used by Astronomers from all over the world. Amazing what a person can learn about where the money goes when they are out and about with time to explore
To read more click here: http://www.vla.nrao.edu/genpub/tours/
One telescope.
After our all too brief "quest into education", we continued on through the Datil Mountains, stopping for home made pie in Pietown. Stops at these little shops are for me the highlight of our trips. I enjoy observing the interesting culture of a small community as both patrons "passing through" and citizens of the community stop in to have a sandwich, coffee or desert.
In Springerville, at Don's suggestion, we decided to take an exploratory trip to the White Mountains. Many years ago, Don and Linda camped with Don's parents and sister, Barbara, in a lovely spot called Harragans Meadows. Don thought that might provide us a good place off the beaten path to spend the night. No sooner said, than we were on our way. The White Mountains of Arizona are truly beautiful and perhaps as spectacular as the Colorado mountains but more limited. Colorado's spectacular scenery and abundance of beauty goes on forever with its dry spots short lived because it gets more water. Its rain and snow supports a much larger assemblage of scenic beauty. In spite of heavy wind with some alarming gusts that slowed our pace Ken maneuvered the bus along the mountain road to Hannagan's Meadows Lodge and campsite.
However, this was not the camping spot that Don remembered so we moved along, until we decided that we had gone far enough without risking getting stuck on the winding narrow road that descends through narrow and winding mountain roads with signs explicitly forbiding trucks over 40 feet. Ahem - our RV is slightly less than 34 feet and trailing behind it is our "towed". People traveling in passenger cars have been known to arrive at Hannagans Meadows ready to pronounce the road unfit for travel and loudly stating their recommendation that it should be removed from the map.
We removed the "towed" and escaped down a forest road where we found the camp site that the Burns' had enjoyed many years before. There surrounded by a beautiful green meadow were several absolutely private and remote camping sites but alas, they were not "RV" friendly. We looked with envy at this "ideal" and inviting space but there is a cost for our "state of the art" camping gear and reluctantly we returned to the more RV friendly camping sites. Even those surroundings were not as friendly to our bus as first thought and Ken was appalled that a low limb left a scratch on his coach to which he immediately applied "elbow grease". In the future, I think he will exercise more caution before choosing a camp among the beautiful trees in the mountains without first determining that access is clear and tree limbs high enough to accommodate our "higher profile".
That evening we enjoyed our lsst night "out in the wild" amid a rather cool breeze that reminded us how high we were. The next morning we walked the short distance to Harragans Meadows lodge where we enjoyed a breakfast buffet in a welcoming atmosphere and watched the "locals" prepare for a community festival displaying their arts. A VIP (Chris Udall of the Udall family) was to be there later to open the ceremonies amid music and local activities heralding the occasion. Unfortunately, we had several miles yet to travel to get Don and Linda back home for commitments the next day so we did not remain for the ceremonies.
We drove back to Springerville, through Showlow and once again sorrowfully observed the devastation of last years terrible forest fires. We arrived back at Camp Verde at 4PM, said goodbye to Don and Linda and spent a quiet relaxing evening at our home park, Camp Verde before striking out the next morning for home.
We spent Sunday night on the river in Blythe and Ken devoted a couple of hours to fishing in the Colorado but without luck. The next morning we headed into Los Angeles. As we approached Indio we were greeted by a sign advising of extremely heavy winds. It was Gary's birthday and since we were so close, it was important that we get home to celebrate his birthday. Too often, we have been away on his special day and we wanted this to be an exception. We decided to take the old route through Indio, Palm Desert, Cathederal City and Palm Springs and as we drove through in relative calm, we patted ourselves on the back. We had "outfoxed" the wind. However, when we approached the freeway through White Water wash, the winds through the canyon were unbelievable and we were barely able to make 25 miles per hour as we edged ourselves carefully along the road and through the canyon pass. We only THOUGHT that we had beat the wind. It had the last word and it was uncompromising in its effort to "get even". We got through but, the next time we see an advisory of high winds, we will pull off the road and "sit it out".
There you have it - 2,000 miles, two weeks and many good memories.
Our heartfelt sympathy to our dear friend Helen Holzaepfel and her children Todd, Lisa and Jeff and their children in their recent loss of husband, father and grandfather, Bill Holzaepfel. We recently visited Bill and Helen in Orlando and we are thankful for that brief visit. Ken and Bill shared a very special bond. Bill and Helen are our oldest friends in our very special extended family. Bill was a very special person, a good friend, loyal husband, dedicated father and loving grandfather. His spirit lives on as we forever cherish the memory of his ready smile, the bright twinkle in his eyes, his keen sense of humor and genuine wit. Bill was an officer and a gentlemen before the term was put to film. He will be missed by family and friends. He was one in a million!
A word of thanks to my dear nephew and his wife who keep me up and running on this site, no matter how many blunders I manage to achieve in a given blog.
Thank you Michael and Jeanne.
AND AWAY WE WENT
June 8th the Burns and Helmstetter families shared a day of celebration in honor of grandson, Sean's, graduation from elementary school. Sean's parents, their two proud families and friends attended the ceremony followed by a family gathering complete with a beautiful three tier cake made and decorated by Marci. It was both beautiful and tasty. It was a fine family day celebrated with pride and just a smattering of melancholy by yours truly. The little ones grow up too soon. Of course, our 14 year old welcomed the gifts in honor of the occasion oblivious to any personal anxieties that are uniquely mine as a result of this Grandma's problems with the aging process. Tsk tsk .
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Sean
Grad cake
As the celebration was winding down, the aging Burns', Ken and Pat, escaped to our waiting chariot and its attached "dinghy" for the start of a 10 day trip with Don and Linda (Ken's brother and sister in law) . We wanted to get out of town and miss the Monday morning LA traffic. Confident that we had escaped the "roar" of Monday morning, we stopped at a rest area outside of San Bernardino for a few hours before going on. We stopped again in Indio and after breakfast drove on into Camp Verde Arizona, arriving there about 3PM, June 9.
Don and Linda joined us Tuesday morning, the 10th, for the first leg of our ten day trip. Our first stop was Wupatki National Monument (link) going North on Highway 89 from Flagstaff to Tuba City.
http://www.nps.gov/wupa/
(If you cannot access this site by double clicking your mouse, highlight, copy and paste into your browser.)
Wupatki
After a brief "walk around" the site, we continued our trek north to Monument Valley where we spent the night at Goulding's RV Resort. Ken and I visited the awesome and statuesquely beautiful assemblage of rock formations in Monument Valley in 1998. Our second visit was no less appreciative as we viewed with wonder those beautiful rock sculptures developed through the ages by the genius of erosion, time and formations of mineral deposits.
Two pictures from Monument Valley
MONUMENT VALLEY
http://www.go-utah.com/monument_valley/
From Monument Valley, we proceeded to Four Corners where Ken posed with hands and knees on each of the four corners, New Mexico, Utah, Arizona and Colorado. He complained that I took too long to shoot the picture because the cement was very hot and he was sure he was suffering long term burns. He survived and "nary" a blister. In my view, other than saying you have been to this location, there is little else to create any urgency for the trip. As our friend Bruce would say, "I didn't leave anything there!".
From our brief stop over at Four Corners, we climbed the steep mountain road into Mesa Verde National Monument where we camped for the night and at twilight, attended a ranger's outdoor amphitheater lecture on the many things to do and see while there. Our "night out" in this 8,000 foot elevation was cool in spite of jackets but the ranger cut no slack. He was in short shirt sleeves and in response to an inquiry from the audience said, "I saved up enough heat from the day to enjoy the cool of the night"..
Mesa Verde National Park was established by Congress on 29 June 1906. It was the first cultural park set aside in the National Park System. Mesa Verde National Park was also designated as a World Cultural Heritage Site on September 8, 1978 by UNESCO, an United Nations organization formed to preserve and protect both the cultural and natural heritage of designated international sites. These pre-Columbian cliff dwellings and other works of early people are the most notable and best preserved in the United States.
Designations:
* National Park - June 29, 1906
* Wilderness Designated - October 20, 1976
* World Heritage Site - September 6, 1978
Read more: http://www.mesa.verde.national-park.com/
The next morning Ken, Don and Linda toured the ruins of The Cliff Palace. They were pleased that the same ranger conduct their tour. I didn't go choosing instead to wait nearby, enjoy my book, bask in the silence and watch the people. There were many steps, ladders and some narrow walkways that induced me to exercise caution in lieu of my fear of heights, overweight status as an adventurer and plain laziness.
When they returned, they seemed to agree that I had made the right decision. One thing for sure, I didn't need to get caught in a small hole of an old Indian ruin at this point in my life. After the Cliff Palace Tour, we drove through the park, viewed several Indian ruins and gorges from view points within the park, visited the museum and returned to our "chariot" (la Bus) and made our way on to our next adventure.
CLIFF PALACE AND THE TOUR
After our mornings explorations at Mesa Verde, we descended the mountain road from whence we ascended the day before and enjoyed the drive through the scenic Colorado countryside to Durango.
We stopped at a RV park located alongside the Animus River, overlooking the tracks of the Durango-Silverton Railroad. We arrived just in time to hear the train approaching from its daily trip to Silverton. As it made its way down the track exuding a combination of smoke and steam. As the train passed us with its mournful horn sounding more distant, like excited little children, we climbed into our "towed" (dinghy) and headed into town to see the train's arrival at the station.
Of course, the boys made an inquiry as to the availability of tickets for the next days adventure up the mountain and upon learning that room was available, with little discussion and no abstinations` tickets were purchased for the 830 AM train to Silverton. The men folk had accomplished their goal and were now ready to eath. Back at "la bus", dinner was prepared and the evening topped off with entertainment from our satellite. Our early date with the DSNGRR (Durango-Silverton Narrow Gauge Rail Road) seemed motivation enough for an early night and thus, concluded June 12th, our third day on the road.
In view of our early scheduled departure, we were up, had breakfast and on the road by 7A. Once at the depot, we had plenty of time before boarding the train at 745A. A trip through the railroad museum occupied our group, while I sat watching over jackets, cameras and items of refreshments considered imperative to our ride on the "tracks". The high altitude seemed to "slow" me down a bit.
As the train huffed its way up the the narrow mountain pass, the Animus River flowed briskly beside us and the beauty of the great outdoors and the magnificent views of the still snow capped mountain above surrounded us. I was so "taken" by the excitement of the train and the beauty around us, I called our friends Gwelda and Bruce to encourage them to speed up their participation in retirement adventures. Not able to get through to them, we left a message, "eat you heart out - wish you were here". Another call was placed to our son Gary, from whom we learned that we had been deprived parents. He and Marci did the trip bc (before children). Alas, we are behind the times!
Once in Silverton, one gets an idea of the tremendous motivation for wealth that prompted those who searched, gambled and won(or lost as the case may be) in their quest for wealth and adventure. Those old timers surely had more ambition and "umph" than our modern day dot.com entrepreneurs who demand six figure incomes from venture capitalists to fail! Times have changed, indeed. The sacrifices that have been made by our pioneers to bring our country and its wealth to this point in history, are rarely viewed from a price paid perspective. Like so many things, we seem to have also lost respect for individual initiative. Too bad!
Once Silverton was a thriving mining town. Today its existence depends on the tourist crowd that seeks the adventure and lore of a ride on the narrow gauge railroad, the scenic beauty of the route and those who long for a look back into time. It was a wonderful day. We were a happy group of "campers" as we arrived back at the train station, toured the museum and returned to "la bus" for dinner. Our day had been filled with sights, sounds and inspiration provided by a day of exploration in the great outdoors.
[more]
http://www.railsnw.com/tours/durango/durango01nf.htm
.
The view below
That was snow on them thar mountains
Silverton
We had originally intended to ascend the mountain pass from Durango to Silverton via "la bus". After our train ride and upon further analysis, we recognized that the route would transition a pass in excess of 10,000 foot elevation on a winding, narrow road that looked taxing even for cars, never mind a 34 foot bus with a "towed".
Our good judgment prevailed and thankfully, the powers that be (Don and Ken) decided to forego the adventure of the "climb". For those of you who have known me in our sailing days, my anxieties on mountain roads rivals my anxiety at sea when the boat heels at a 45 degree angle. I am not a "relaxed" happy camper under either circumstance. Thus on our fifth day of adventure, (June 14) we took the longer less scenic but still beautiful route to Montrose, Colorado en route to Gunnison where we were to have a few days of relaxation from the rigors of travel.
As we traveled through the mountain passes and valleys of beautiful Colorado we were "smitten" by the beauty of the State. Of course, we were mindful of the winter snow to which skiers aspire but uninviting to those who have long since passed their prime for "snow". Nevertheless, we enjoyed our drive and outside of Montrose, we stopped at a RV park where we enjoyed a relaxing evening of dinner and television.
Father's day, we drove to Ouray, Colorado, a little town nestled in the mountains of Colorado to which Don and Ken's parents traveled many times. They loved that "swiss" mountain town and at one time they had considered purchasing property there. They were negotiating for a house in the middle of town when the Police Chief's wife (or some similar person of authority) backed into their car. The Police Chief gave Ken's dad a ticket. Indignant with his handling, Ken's dad ended the negotiation and as far as I know, he never returned to Ouray. However, through the years both parents spoke warmly of this quaint little town, nestled high in the mountains of Colorado. Knowing Ken's dad, we could all understand his infatuation with the town, its history and its resources that, according to the sign, "fueled the industrial revolution and financed two World Wars".
We drove up the mountain toward Silverton (the road we would have come down if we had not "chickened out") and viewed the large reclamation project that is being undertaken by the Neumont Mining Company. The gold and silver mine extends through the mountains for miles and the wealth that has been removed from "them thar hills" makes one shake their head in disbelief.
What a wonderful period in our history. Too few people stop to appreciate the price and sacrifices that have been made to make our country what it is. Our life and current standard of living did not just happen, there are many who have paid a great price for that which we take for granted today.
As wonderful as it is to welcome to our country and its freedom those who wish to have a better life, it seems that too often those people want to bring their culture, their way of life and their shortcomings with them. Once here, many seem to want to implement the things that kept their country from achieving the kind of freedom and standard of life that we cherish. Therein may rest the foundation for the demise of the way of life that our forefathers provided. Only time can tell. EOS (End of sermon).
View from Idarado Mine.
After our quick venture into Ouray and its great mining history, we returned to Montrose, returned our car to a "towed" and drove "la bus" to Gunnison. Our day included a stop over at the Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park and we viewed from its canyon cliffs the Gunnison River flowing briskly and noisily through the deep gorge below, another extravaganza of "Mother Earth". The Canyon is not as spectacularly beautiful as the Grand Canyon but the depth of the cliffs that have been carved by this mighty river pays tribute to the power of its spell. I was somewhat intimidated by the depth of the gorge hence, I chose not to get too "close" to the edge and stayed in the coach. However, I was able to see enough of the canyon as we drove along the road above to conclude that a drop from the cliff was a drop to whatever lies beyond this life. I had no desire to test the patience of my fellow travelers by providing an opportunity for them to "lose" me in the Black Canyon of the Gunnison. NOSIREE!
Black Canyon of the Gunnison
After our brief stint at exploring the byways, we arrived at Blue Mesa, our RV resort outside Gunnison. Once parked, camp set up (room extended awning out and carpet laid) the "towed" was returned to vehicle status and we were ready for our drive into Gunnison for a Father's Day dinner out for Ken and Don. Linda and I discussed a possible Father's Day gift for the two but since neither of them looked old enough to be our father and I'm not sure we would claim them if they were, we ignored that aspect of the day. However, we did agree that we would treat them to dinner out and we did. We had a wonderful dinner with a charming waitress, originally from Wisconsin who is supplementing her lifestyle as a waitress while attending college in Gunnison. We later met a man in Camp Verde who had attended that college. He said that the college there has a reputation for offering an excellent marketing program and that was what our waitress was pursuing.
A visit to the local Walmart provided Ken with a one day fishing permit. We were all anticipating a fresh fish supper the next night.. Contrary to our premature expectations, we had to be satisfied with "camp fare" which on this particular evening was a tri tip roast hot off the grill, baked potatoes and a fresh garden salad. Hot fudge sundaes and television topped off the evenings dinner and entertainment. Roughing it sure does get tedious.
The next morning Monday, July 17 we crossed over the great Divide at Monarch Pass, 13,000 foot above sea level. As we drove through the pass we were accompanied by the Arkansas River where we waved to rafters as they foraged the rapids in what Linda referred to as "bottom bumpers". As we waved and snapped pictures of the water adventurers we looked forward to visiting the Royal Gorge where we hoped to get even better pictures from the bridge that spans the gorge.
Alas, after traveling the several miles into that commercialized activity, we elected that $18 each for entry into the Gorge was too much for our brief stay. We did not resent paying an entry fee, but their entry fee encompassed a look at the Gorge, a ride on the train into the Gorge itself, a walk across the bridge and entertainment park concessions "ala Disneyland". The price was too "rich" for a 30 minute view. All but Linda had been there before and she nixed the "investment". So it was that we "shined the "gorge" on and refused to patronize the greed of that enterprise. We support free enterprise but there is free enterprise and there is "fee enterprise". However, the trip was not a total failure. We had lunch and on the way out, Don was able to get a good picture of a deer and one of the bridge over the Gorge for our memory folder.
Royal Gorge Bridge
We pressed on toward Walsenberg, our destination for the night. A quick reference to our "parks" guide, revealed Lathrop State Park just outside of Walsenberg. Our driver "honed" in on the park and in no time flat, we were settled in a nice roomy site and dinner was served. After dinner, the men folks enjoyed a noisy action DVD while Linda and I tried to concentrate on a game of Scrabble with the surround sound of the movie vibrating the walls of the coach and stilling our mental agility. At last the men had found a place where they could play the DVD loud and no one but their wives to complain.
The next morning we made our way over the pass into New Mexico. We had lunch in a small interesting New Mexican restaurant as we drove through Taos. It was a "local" place with our food cooked to order. It satisfied our need for a noon meal, and we felt good that we had patronized a local enterprise, for better or for worse.
After our lunch, we continued our trek to a RV Park half way between Taos and Santa Fe. Ken paid for a "one day" fishing permit and tried his luck at the stocked lake. He caught four catfish but two got away (does that sound like a fish story or not?) In spite of a heavily infested area of mosquitoes that we avoided, the camp site proved to be comfortable enough in spite of our convictions that it would not meet Gwelda's criteria for acceptable accommodations.
The next morning June 19, we visited Santa Fe and enjoyed lunch at a local restaurant where the "chaps" were most indulgent to two old "grays" with orange caps. At Monarch Pass Ken found an orange cap that he thought would help me identify him in a crowd. He decided that I should have one also. Thus, we both toured Santa Fe with our orange caps adorning our gray hair to identify one to another. The chaps at the restaurants were amused by our rather unorthodox style - at least they seemed to be.
From Santa Fe we ventured down the hill into Albuquerque. We had planned to spend the night in Albuquerque and say hello to Bruce and Gwelda but Bruce was out of town, Gwelda was recuperating from a back spasm suffered in Key West, as well as entertaining visiting grandchildren and preparing for a visit from daughter Monica and family the next day. Since we were pressed for time so we decided to go on and get a head start on the remainder of our trip. We ended up spending the night in a RV Park and Horse Motel near Belen, New Mexico. The name sounded a little strange and it would definitely not meet Gwelda's criteria for a "sleep over", it proved not to be too bad. We decided that the owner needed to put more emphasis on the RV motel and less on the hotel motel but who knows, maybe in Belen New Mexico, horse motels are as important as RV parks. How would we city folk know?
We rather enjoyed a "stint" around the barnyard. There was an accumulation of animals i.e., ducks, geese, chickens, goats, horses, pigs, (including two pot bellies)` turkeys, rabbits and goodness knows what else. It was a little aromatic in spots, but otherwise not a bad overnight stop. The early morning's crow of the roosters reminded us of the Caribbean and the smell brought back memories of my farm days of long ago.
As we crossed the valley from Soccoro to the Datil Mountains and Magdalena (where we had our problem with the door latch in December), we were curious about the many large satellite dish devices that stood in a line before us. Ken remembered that they were radio telescopes from our last "pass by" but we did not fully understand the enterprise. As we drew closer there was a sign that identified the project as a Very Large Array. Curious for more information (inquiring minds you know), we drove to the visitors center. There we learned that this was the World's largest assemblage of radio telescopes, covering a distance of many miles. The radio satellites are placed in a Y shaped design over several hundred acres and moved by rail, throughout the project as necessary to maintain a tracking signal. It was an educational experience and one that we enjoyed greatly. The satellites are huge and the project mammoth.
According to the VLA website, " The National Radio Astronomy Observatory is a facility of the National Science Foundation , operated under cooperative agreement by Associated Universities, Inc .The project was authorized by Congress in 1972 dedicated in 1980,. It cost $78,578,000 dollars, (approximately $1 per taxpayer in 1978 dollars). The project came in within budget and nearly one year early. What a concept! It is a facility of the National Science Foundation and operated under a cooperative agreement by Associated Universities. The facility is used by Astronomers from all over the world. Amazing what a person can learn about where the money goes when they are out and about with time to explore
To read more click here: http://www.vla.nrao.edu/genpub/tours/
One telescope.
After our all too brief "quest into education", we continued on through the Datil Mountains, stopping for home made pie in Pietown. Stops at these little shops are for me the highlight of our trips. I enjoy observing the interesting culture of a small community as both patrons "passing through" and citizens of the community stop in to have a sandwich, coffee or desert.
In Springerville, at Don's suggestion, we decided to take an exploratory trip to the White Mountains. Many years ago, Don and Linda camped with Don's parents and sister, Barbara, in a lovely spot called Harragans Meadows. Don thought that might provide us a good place off the beaten path to spend the night. No sooner said, than we were on our way. The White Mountains of Arizona are truly beautiful and perhaps as spectacular as the Colorado mountains but more limited. Colorado's spectacular scenery and abundance of beauty goes on forever with its dry spots short lived because it gets more water. Its rain and snow supports a much larger assemblage of scenic beauty. In spite of heavy wind with some alarming gusts that slowed our pace Ken maneuvered the bus along the mountain road to Hannagan's Meadows Lodge and campsite.
However, this was not the camping spot that Don remembered so we moved along, until we decided that we had gone far enough without risking getting stuck on the winding narrow road that descends through narrow and winding mountain roads with signs explicitly forbiding trucks over 40 feet. Ahem - our RV is slightly less than 34 feet and trailing behind it is our "towed". People traveling in passenger cars have been known to arrive at Hannagans Meadows ready to pronounce the road unfit for travel and loudly stating their recommendation that it should be removed from the map.
We removed the "towed" and escaped down a forest road where we found the camp site that the Burns' had enjoyed many years before. There surrounded by a beautiful green meadow were several absolutely private and remote camping sites but alas, they were not "RV" friendly. We looked with envy at this "ideal" and inviting space but there is a cost for our "state of the art" camping gear and reluctantly we returned to the more RV friendly camping sites. Even those surroundings were not as friendly to our bus as first thought and Ken was appalled that a low limb left a scratch on his coach to which he immediately applied "elbow grease". In the future, I think he will exercise more caution before choosing a camp among the beautiful trees in the mountains without first determining that access is clear and tree limbs high enough to accommodate our "higher profile".
That evening we enjoyed our lsst night "out in the wild" amid a rather cool breeze that reminded us how high we were. The next morning we walked the short distance to Harragans Meadows lodge where we enjoyed a breakfast buffet in a welcoming atmosphere and watched the "locals" prepare for a community festival displaying their arts. A VIP (Chris Udall of the Udall family) was to be there later to open the ceremonies amid music and local activities heralding the occasion. Unfortunately, we had several miles yet to travel to get Don and Linda back home for commitments the next day so we did not remain for the ceremonies.
We drove back to Springerville, through Showlow and once again sorrowfully observed the devastation of last years terrible forest fires. We arrived back at Camp Verde at 4PM, said goodbye to Don and Linda and spent a quiet relaxing evening at our home park, Camp Verde before striking out the next morning for home.
We spent Sunday night on the river in Blythe and Ken devoted a couple of hours to fishing in the Colorado but without luck. The next morning we headed into Los Angeles. As we approached Indio we were greeted by a sign advising of extremely heavy winds. It was Gary's birthday and since we were so close, it was important that we get home to celebrate his birthday. Too often, we have been away on his special day and we wanted this to be an exception. We decided to take the old route through Indio, Palm Desert, Cathederal City and Palm Springs and as we drove through in relative calm, we patted ourselves on the back. We had "outfoxed" the wind. However, when we approached the freeway through White Water wash, the winds through the canyon were unbelievable and we were barely able to make 25 miles per hour as we edged ourselves carefully along the road and through the canyon pass. We only THOUGHT that we had beat the wind. It had the last word and it was uncompromising in its effort to "get even". We got through but, the next time we see an advisory of high winds, we will pull off the road and "sit it out".
There you have it - 2,000 miles, two weeks and many good memories.
Our heartfelt sympathy to our dear friend Helen Holzaepfel and her children Todd, Lisa and Jeff and their children in their recent loss of husband, father and grandfather, Bill Holzaepfel. We recently visited Bill and Helen in Orlando and we are thankful for that brief visit. Ken and Bill shared a very special bond. Bill and Helen are our oldest friends in our very special extended family. Bill was a very special person, a good friend, loyal husband, dedicated father and loving grandfather. His spirit lives on as we forever cherish the memory of his ready smile, the bright twinkle in his eyes, his keen sense of humor and genuine wit. Bill was an officer and a gentlemen before the term was put to film. He will be missed by family and friends. He was one in a million!
