Thursday, October 31, 2013

John Day Trip, October 2013

When Hunting turns into “Just” a Trip…

John Day, Oregon—what a beautiful area, and we were lucky to “have to” go there for 2 weeks in October this year since Chris drew an Elk tag for the Murderer’s Creek area—we left October 15th, scouted a week, Chris hunted all 5 days (23rd to the 27th) and then we made it back on the 28th…all three of us (Shoppie the campin’ cat made sure we took her).

5 Mice Must Mean Good Luck…

Quite the auspicious beginning, as we discovered that “critters” had started to nest in one of our trailer’s drawers.  Chris’ dad lives in a gated community and rents out his RV space to us.  It’s a beautiful little area and the parking spaces are back along a wooded area—great for privacy…and the mice evidently thought so too.  So, packing took a back seat as we dealt with that issue.  After setting mice traps and cheese, with peanut butter too, we ended up snaring a total of 4 before departing.  After the first 3, I was able to clean up all of the “leavings” and we got our trailer scrubbed and back into order so that we could pack it up.

Once underway, we were awestruck by the beautiful weather and the drive over was magnificent.  We loved our campsite near the John Day River (had a whole corner lot to ourselves the day we moved in and it was covered with a canopy of bright orange and yellow leaves), and spent the rest of the day getting set up, then fixed dinner.  The only bummer was that we discovered our satellite receiver somehow never made it onboard, so Jeopardy in the wilds was out---dang!

In the middle of the night, Shoppie woke me up with some intensity around the couch area—she was poised and definitely alert.  Part of me went, “Uh-oh…”  I woke Chris up and we watched her watch the couch, then sure enough—out it came.  Mouse #5.  Chris set another trap but scooted it under the arm of the couch where it was out of Shoppie’s reach but still “snappable”.  Sometime during the night, Shoppie got back up on the bed and purred loudly the rest of the night—both Chris and I commented the next day on how loud it was…we kinda slept in and around that purrrrrrrr.

The Naked Truth

Day 1 of scouting started off with a bang as we discovered the fifth mouse carcass and figured that explained the quiet AND Shoppie’s purring.  She’s not really a mouser (we call her our “pointer cat” because she doesn’t want to actually interact with them, just point them out to us), but she’s definitely a satisfied “hunter” now.

We somehow managed to lose power (Chris was trying to figure out if one of our fuses blew—it hadn’t—so we figured it was a park-wide outage of some sort and took off to scout bright and early.  Cold at that time of the morning (in the 20’s), so I had my layers on and carried coat/hat/gloves for walking.

We started out driving on the Ingle Creek road to get into the hunting area and were remarking on how depressed some of the houses looked when, bang!  I was staring straight at a naked man in his kitchen window—he looked right at me, smiling.  I was glad we had already digested breakfast as he was NOT an attractive site…  Seriously.  Potbelly hanging over, hair matted here/there, teeth missing.  I was thinking of that “things happen in 3’s” quip and was thinking we had that completed (mouse/power outage/naked man—got it!).

Scouting was fun (lots of hiking through beautiful woodsy areas—my kind of thing!) and felt successful as we got informed, saw some elk sign.

Back at camp, Chris deciphered that the power outage was indeed on our end and then discovered a defective circuit breaker, so into the town of John Day we went and bought a new one at Ace Hardware.  Luckily, it worked (yay!) because we were contemplating what our day might look like tomorrow if it didn’t.

Ahhhhh…time for relaxing in our chairs outside, surrounded by the beautiful fall colors.  It was truly a beautiful day.

Stud Pile Education

Scout days 2, 3, 4 and 5 pretty much followed the same recipe. Up at first light, and back after dark.  We walked, walked, walked, looked, looked, and looked.  Many stops to check the maps and see which roads might be good ones.  We did stop to look at and film hundreds of wild turkeys and teams of gorgeous wild horses. 

As we hiked and noted horse manure piles, it seemed like they purposely piled it on in specific spots.  It was after we inquired about them back at camp we got our “Stud Pile Education”.  Evidently, it is indeed like a “pissing match” between stud horses—the bigger the pile, the better the chances with the ladies.  Chris commented, “Ya gotta realize that they know this will really impress the girls.  And what do THEY say (the females)—‘Oh, my man…so full of crap he is…what a beauty!’”  That guy cracks me up.

Could it really be…??

Scout day number 6…feeling pretty beaten up at this point as we had worked our butts off to seemingly little or no avail.  We happened onto a road that didn’t seem like it was in the best of spots, but what the heck…then as we hiked, we saw sign after sign, track after track.  Chris had us stay really quiet, walking tai chi slowwwwww…

Suddenly, I spotted something ahead off the road in the woods.  It definitely looked deer-like (not horse-like, as we had become used to running into wild horses while looking for elk), it definitely seemed bigger than deer to me.  I kept watching the spot and saw movement again.  Agh!!  The next thing we knew, an elk (cow) was up on the ridge above us—wow!  It was our first siting—she was amazing.  As Chris was trained through the binoculars on her, I saw a flash out of the corner of my eye…a huge animal running in the field to our right.  “Chris!” I whispered, tugging on his shirt sleeve.  We both turned and saw the bull (a 4-point) cross the road and bound up the hill.  He stopped to look right at Chris (he had binoculars on him now) and Chris said it was a sight to behold.  No doubt, as it was a sight to behold without the binoculars…whew!  A most magnificent animal…verrrrrrry exciting!

Be Careful What You Hunt For…

After some driving about on our last scouting day, adjusting and re-adjusting plans/map points, etc., Chris was ready for opening day.  He hunted every day of the 5 days, leaving at dark (about 3:30 a.m.) and arriving at dark (about 8:00 p.m.), and I enjoyed sleeping in, reading books, taking walks along the river path and watching a great heron fish in front of me.  Chris put in a great effort, but alas no elk.

Luckily, we’re both in that point of our lives where we have fewer expectations and more affinity for the happy surprises.

It was a great trip.


Lake Louise, Alaska--2013 Car Trip

It’s the Journey, Not the Destination…

We’ve done lots of variations of Alaskan trips—driven partway (via truck, via motorhome, via motorhome-pulling-boat), ferried the other parts, flown and rented cars, and have even flown in to where our only mode of transportation was a bicycle.  This year we thought we should try driving the entire way to our destination, exploring parts of the Alcan Highway that we had not driven before.  Our destination:  Lake Louise, Alaska.  This involved 2,500 miles both ways, over 5,000 miles total with added side trips.  As usual when you have expectations with anything in life, the expected adventures and successes were not to be had and the unexpected oddities provided fulfillment that we could not have imagined.

Lake Louise, Alaska-bound!

We knew going in that the journey part (the driving) would be the bulk of this vacation, so it’s not like we were BLIND TO THE FACT THAT WE’D BE DRIVING OUR BRAINS OUT…it just kinda became very apparent as we did our 15 to 16-hour days (5 days going up and then 4 days coming back) that it was a type of travel we were glad we did ONCE—saw beautiful things but nothing beautiful enough to make us want to pedal-to-the-metal like that again.

Tues., 6/25/13
We hopped up out of bed and were on the road by 3:00 a.m. in Salem in order to try and catch Seattle traffic at a decent time.  We actually did pretty well and managed to get through Seattle without too many problems…up to the Abbotsford border crossing (about a 20-minute wait, not too bad), then onward to Prince George, B.C.—arriving there at about 5:00 p.m.  So, if you’re big into math, we had already driven 14 hours and naturally thought we should stay in Prince George.  The problem was that the way we had to traverse the town in order to head towards the road we needed to be on next, took us through the worst part of town—the motel choices we were eyeballing felt like Skid Row—not only uninviting, but making you feel like you didn’t want to stop and idle anywhere for too long.  Chris was feeling optimistic that we’d have some choices in “the next town” so we just kept right on outta ol’ PG.

Optimism waned as we found it hard to find any place to stay—many places were boarded up (out of business) and it got to be a joke for us to read signs about what was ahead—makes you rather cynical about “great food ahead” when you drive, and drive, and drive, and…nothing.

So…200 more kilometers (roughly 2 hours) of nothing and we were ready to take anything.  And that we did—in McKenzie Junction.  You know you’re in trouble when the first words out of the keeper’s mouth is something to the effect of, “Don’t drink or use the water…”  Evidently, the water was mainly for flushing the toilet, as we learned later.  We were glad to see there weren’t any fleas or bugs in the bed as the rest of the place gave us the impression that not much was tended to (bad carpet with holes in it, musty-smelling, walls peeling, toilet not flushing, different colors of paint like they used whatever they had—main room was dark fucia purple and the bathroom was lime green—quite attractive--NOT!)…When I commented that the place needed a good paint job, Chris said, “What this place needs is a book of matches!”  He then proceeded to use the bathroom which in turn used US—we had to use the waste basket to flush it as it was clearly inoperable.

Our big surprise (unexpected cool thing) at this stay was our encounter with the “pet” fox who greeted us.  The first one I saw resembled a pipe-cleaner on steroids, coming our way as though he owned the place, and all I could say was, “What is THAT?” to which Chris turned, looked, looked again, looked harder, then said, “I think it’s a FOX!”  He quickly discovered they were tame and quite accustomed to begging off of any road travelers stupid enough to have to stop there.  Chris found some of our snacks to feed them and we filmed the experience.  Their favorite appeared to be pepperoni; the beef jerky got mixed reviews—they kind of rolled that around their mouth several times, chewed, gulped…then looked at us like, “You got any more of that pepperoni?”

Of course, Murphy’s Law…I was armed with mosquito repellant for Alaska but forgot to arm myself at this place—and got nailed right off of the bat.  Welts the size of quarters formed under my chin and at the back of my neck (Chris said my skin was like petting bubble wrap).  Don’t worry.  I didn’t get nailed like THAT again—not messing around anymore!

All this, and we did manage to get a good night’s sleep—whew! 

Wed., 6/26/13
On the road again early for our next 14 hours of driving…and we came to a place called Buffalo Inn.  Again, we got the water speech—water’s orange, can’t drink or use for domestic purposes.  And once again we had to use the garbage can to flush the toilet.  Hmmmm.  Starting to see a pattern here.

Well, every experience is certainly a learning experience and this was not without its share of life’s lessons.  For example, this is where we learned the great cleaning art of mopping the carpet.  You did not just read a typo, no.  The way they cleaned the carpets in this place was to enlist a typical string-style industrial mop and bucket to do the task.  Chris and I stared at this for a while and then immediately looked for the hidden cameras…”This is a joke, right?  They must just want our reaction to this absurdity!”

Our barbeque chicken and French fries with gravy meal about cured us—of hunger, and of ever eating again.  We started to play cards (Chinese Cribbage) and then Chris got to chatting with a Grizzly Adams kind of character who was long-winded and covered just about every topic imaginable—including alien warships and such.  We finally got ourselves up to our room which kind of reminded us of being in a Batman movie—the floors were all warbled and slanted—made us seasick to walk across them!  The neat thing that happened here—a tropical downpour that lasted 8 hours (as opposed to most downpours that last about 20 minutes)—it was certainly nice to go to sleep by, but didn’t give us a sense of security in terms of flood conditions out there.

Thurs., 6/27/13
Well, we drove through quite a bit of rain—and it seemed a good time to reflect on the differences we observed on this trip so far--things Canadian vs. American:

1.       Good things to say about Canada:
a.       The metric system is far superior, hands down.
b.      “Washroom” is definitely more descriptive than “bathroom” or “restroom”.
c.       Chips on credit cards make them more secure—made our lives a little difficult at times because gas stations and other places didn’t appear to accept our cards, but we still like the idea of that level of security!
d.      Canadians are definitely a more laid back and calmer people overall.
e.      Litter buckets are everywhere and there is very little litter on the highway—it’s almost non-existent!  This coupled with the threatening signs ($2,000 fine for littering) keeps things cleaner overall on the roads.
f.        Highways have safety “nets” for wildlife—cleared sides so that it’s easy to see animals as they’re coming onto the road.
g.       Highways are in better shape than Oregon’s.
h.      RCMP is federal and covers ALL of Canada—gets rid of all of the conflicting governments (state, county, city, etc.).
2.       The not-so-good things to say about Canada:
a.       There’s a 10-12% tax on everything.
b.      Gas prices are quite a bit higher.
c.       Motels are highly priced and you don’t get much for it—that must be why so many people seem to RV in this country.
d.      Everything seems to be worn out, including their rather crude/basic rest stops (at least it does have a lot of them—Alaska has about none—you are on your own).
e.      Lots of misleading signs we came across (where we never found what they went to):
                                                               i.      Home cooking ahead
                                                             ii.      Subway sandwiches ahead
                                                            iii.      Nice motel ahead
                                                           iv.      Comfortable (needs definition—like, we have a bed in the room)
                                                             v.      Clean (needs definition—like, you won’t find moldy cheese scattered about the floors or anything)

We stopped for lunch at a tired-looking spot in the middle of some beautiful northern B.C. country.  The woman who waited on us was pleasant and talked to us about politics which was interesting.  She mentioned that she had 7 kids and then launched into topics quite emotionally about the environment and how everything bad that’s happening is due to over-population.  Chris pointed out that she may not have an exact soap box to stand on with that particular point and her smile got a little less friendly.  Thanks, Chris.  Hope she didn’t poison our food.

Once back on the road, we saw bear and buffalo—BIG buffalo!—and finally made it into Watson Lake, B.C., where we had a credit card adventure at our next sleeping place, “Andrea’s Hotel”.  Chris ended up in a smashing good mood after spending time on a pay phone straightening out the credit card biz, and in the meantime, I got cozy with the room key that had a secret special way to get us into our room.  I discovered that I couldn’t get back in with the 2nd load of stuff from the car (already had the cameras and equipment in the room), so I was not in the mood to give up.  It took 3 people trying to help me and finally they gave me a pass key and even THAT had its own special instructions (“Okay, turn and pull to the right twice, then pull/turn as you turn it left, then the door will open…”).  Andrea’s is a 2-star motel at a 5-star price ($132).  The shower was the best so far of our trip to which Chris said, “Not much to compare it to…the bar was set pretty low!”

We did have some fun in Watson Lake—took in a show at a Northern Lights center on Aurora Borealis—neat!  Our sleep wasn’t the best—couldn’t close the window and there was quite a bit of road noise/rowdy noise to “lull” us.

Fri., 6/23/13
On up to the Yukon and our next stop in the town of Teslin—about 200 km before Whitehorse—to pick up some snacks.  We met up with a friendly Native American named Joey Smarch who needed a ride to Whitehorse, so we packed him into our car and headed on down the road.  What a boon that was—Joey turned out to be quite the entertaining travel guide and we appreciated his company very much, even though we never were quite sure why he needed a ride exactly—his driver’s license had expired, he had a meeting, he had a girlfriend (I’m thinkin’—“Bingo that one!”).  Regardless, he regaled us with various as sundry items:
·         His grandfather built the roads we were travelling
·         He has a grandmother, Virginia Smarch, had a big part of the book “Part of Land, Part of Water” pertaining to Yukon Indians and various remedies—very intriguing, like using devil’s club to cure certain illnesses…
·         After comparing notes, we realized that our Buffalo Inn blowhard guy had met and given Joey a ride as well—“Did he talk about alien warships?”—“Yah!  He DID go on about that!” and we all had a laugh about it
·         He has a pet wolf
·         He doesn’t like eating porcupine (“tastes like burnt hair to me”)
·         He found an organic meteor on Tagus Lake and intends to keep it (has been approached to sell it but doesn’t ever want to)
·         There are “Mammoth Mountains” on the way to Whitehorse that you can miss if the sun’s not quite right (he had us stop and pointed them out to us—and we of course took pictures)
·         If you’re camping and want the bears to avoid you, put mothballs all around your sleeping bag—they’ll repel bugs and bears

One of our favorite moments with Joey was after he had mentioned that it was the “worst year ever for mosquitoes”—this was to be the first of many times we heard this from Canada and into Alaska—thrilling news for me, let me tell you!  I had the feeling that Joey was tender towards the mosquito spirit as he saw me trying to smack one that got into the car—“You know, if you just roll the window down, the mosquito will simply fly away”—and I figured he would probably not approve of all of the poisonous concoctions I had in my arsenal for these winged wonders.  Anyway, after he had detailed all of the amazing home remedies for all kinds of things from arthritis to cancer, I just had to ask him:  “Joey, what exactly do you folks do to repel mosquitos?”  Without hesitation, he emphatically stated, “Off!”  “We use Off!”  He then proceeded to tell me about a “badge” that one of the elders uses and swears by it (made by Off!).  He mentioned that we could find one of these at Walmart or Canadian Tire in Whitehorse.  If he hadn’t already made his ride with us worth it with all the stories, he DEFINITELY got gold stars in my book for this recommendation.  The badge turned out to be my saving grace for the remainder of our travels through mosquito-infested beauty.

We arrived at Whitehorse, dropped Joey off, then decided it was too busy and hectic for us there and journeyed on up the road (after I purchased an Off! badge at Canadian Tire of course!) and ended up at a place called Talbot Arm across from the beautiful Kluane Lake.  On the way we stopped and watched a HUGE grizzly bear, right by the side of the road (about 2 km away from the motel).  When we checked in, a lively young motel staff said to us, “I guess I shouldn’t do my jog tonight” when we told her of our bear siting.  No duh!!

Sat., 6/29/13
Okay, hands down, Talbot Arm gets high marks in our book—best shower by far (5 stars!).  We slept really well (quiet) and felt refreshed and ready to go.

Our travels took us over the bumpy Alcan, across the border and into Alaska.  We met a former Oregon woman at the Tok, Alaska visitor center who said the rest of her family went back to Oregon but she’s never going back—she was informative and fun to talk to.  West of Tok, Alaska, we saw 5 moose total (1 baby, 3 cows and 1 bull)—way neat!—and a pair of nesting swans.

We arrived in Glenallen and decided it would not be the best place to stay (the motel was right smack in the middle of construction/dust/noise and the B&B was booked) so Chris called the Lake Louise Lodge (where we had reservations for Sunday through Thursday) and they actually had a cabin available for the night, so we took it.  Since their restaurant was closing soon there, we went ahead and bought food to “picnic” with on the way.  We arrived at the lodge at 9:00 p.m., got unloaded, played cards and enjoyed a couple of drinks with a nice view of the lake (it’s a big one!).

Sun., 6/30/13
We were glad to have a place to crash and Chris slept fine, but it was kind of a rough night for me—for some reason, the combination of the noise of the generator (which happened to be right by this particular cabin), the endless light at night, and a mosquito that seemed out to get me (buzzing in my ear—too bad I can’t run that Off! badge all night!) all made it difficult for me to even doze.

We got dressed, had coffee (yes!), breakfast, and then took a drive.  Our room—upgrade from a cabin for sure!—was to be ready at 2:00 p.m.  Since we had cell reception, I made a couple of calls to family, and then we stopped by the Basin Liquor store to get Chris some O’Douls where we had one of those unexpected surprises in the form of a 100% Norwegian (this is how she introduces herself) named Bonnie Wilsi.  She’s a retired teacher in the area and about the most interesting/funny person you’d ever want to meet.  She had no problem flipping Chris crap and he had no problem taking it and joking right back with her—it was really fun (the most fun I’ve ever had in a liquor store, I can honestly say!).

Back at the Lodge, checked into our room (really nice), had dinner, and crashed for our early morning (Chris had a license that began at 5:00 a.m., Monday, so he wanted to be up in time to be ON the lake by 5:00).

Mon., 7/1/13

When Early Gets Even Earlier…

So Chris, anxious to get out fishing for those famous lake trout, hops us out of bed saying “It’s 4:10—we need to get goin’!”  I’m thinking, “Wow, feels like we just barely got to sleep!” but nevertheless rushed with him to get all the preparations and gear and get onto the boat.  We got out onto the lake and Chris was getting ready to get his lines in the water, when I happened to look at my watch and was rather surprised.  “Did my watch stop?” I ask.  “My watch says 3:30!”  Chris then looked at his watch.  Oh.  His does too.  I’m thinking—hmmm…was it the time difference?  No, that didn’t make sense.  Then Chris realized he had seen “4:10” on his watch when really it was “2:20”!!!!!  Wonderful!  Had to go to shore and wait to be legal…then got back out on the lake. 

Once back out, we saw a lake loon and a beaver but no lake trout.  It was pretty nippy out there but that’s good for the fish prospects.  Once it warmed up (after about 4 hours), we came back, did a drive-about, played cards, ate…then back out again in the evening.  We were bundled up and it was cold…still no lake trout once again.

Tue., 7/2/13
After the fishing luck of yesterday, and the fact that the weather looked a little skeptical, we decided to drive to Valdez after breakfast.  Saw some beautiful sights—spectacular mountains and waterfalls, and Chris was able to cast about in pretty streams (no fish to speak of, but pretty!).  Stopped at a log cabin store (Chris and I were quite taken with the craftsmanship), then studied glaciers close to the road (fun!).

Once back, Chris talked to the lodge folks and they gave him a big POW lure to try tomorrow (from a veteran who had passed but did a lot of fishing on Lake Louise), so lake trout, here we come!


Wed., 7/3/13
Got up at 4:00 and we were out on the lake by 4:30.  As I’m gathering stuff up and asking Chris “Did ya get…” this/that, etc., he added “AND our rain gear!” which made me go—“Uh-oh”.  Yep—raindrops falling and about 3 inches of water under my feet as I began steering the boat.  Great.  I started the morning with wet feet, which proceeded to get really cold.  I was bundled up (3 layers plus life vest plus coat plus rain coat on top, warm hat plus rain hat over that, 2 pairs of socks (now wet!), 1 pair of gloves (soon wet), long underwear plus jeans (getting wet with rain).  I was mostly warm except for the feet, hands, legs—aghghgh!  About 8:00 a.m., we had no lake trout and I was soooo ready to to come in and get warm (no feeling in my feet and hands by then), then around 8:15 as we were heading into the lodge to get docked, and get back in time for breakfast, POW!  Chris caught his lake trout—quite the excitement!  Took pictures and I have to admit—pretty fish!  Of course, you throw these guys back in, because they don’t taste worth a darn—not for keeping!

I took a long hot shower, then it still took most of the morning to get the feeling back in my fingers and toes, which I finally did—whew!  Chris the macho man says, “I don’t get it, hon—it really wasn’t that cold out there!”  I was too happy to be warm again to hit him.

After breakfast, we were off to IGA in Glenallen for some travel snacks, hit the library, made our Scrabble plays, and then went back to the liquor store—not for the liquor, but to say goodbye to Bonnie, as we would be leaving the lodge early the next morning.

Chris was now on a mission/quest to catch a grayling in streams and lakes, so he found some spots (one a beautiful lake right in front of a breath-taking glacier), but no grayling.  He got some tips from a Russian native on the fish and realized he probably needed more equipment than he had with him (waders, boat) to catch any of those graylings.  We drove, listened to our book on CD, and got back for supper, clean-up and packing.

Thurs, 7/4/13
Up at 5:00 a.m. and we left right after breakfast.  An absolutely beautiful day—we went back through customs from Alaska to Canada (Yukon) and hit the rough roads on the way back to Talbot Arm in Destination Bay Yukon (we loved that spot near Kluane Lake so much, mainly because the showers and toilets worked, we decided to make that our first night back on the road).  The roads are victims of perma-frost damage—lots of warbles and “drunken trees”, so you really can’t do a decent job with the cruise control—keeps you on your toes!  But we had our audio book to keep us company, so it wasn’t too bad.  No critters to report.

Arrived in Talbot Arm in time to eat dinner, play some cards and get to bed—slept really well.  Chris pursued a new hobby—documenting all of the motorcycle travelers that pack up and do tours in both Canada/Yukon and Alaska.  One couple motorcycled all the way from Kansas and were celebrating their 80th birthdays doing this trip!!  Amazing, the people you meet and adventurers you run across out there on the road.

Fri., 7/5/13
Made it from Kluane Lake to Dease Lake on the Cassiar highway, a road we wanted to explore on the way back, and weren’t disappointed once we made it past the burnt part.  We had a bit of a time delay as the gas-fill we were to do at the junction, was out of power, and we ended up driving back to Watson Lake again to get what turned out to be the gas-filling-experience-from-hell.  Everyone had gone to Watson Lake like us and the lines were long.  Then the clerk was outmatched by so much business and she nearly had a meltdown.  We felt lucky to get out of there within an hour.

Once out of there, and onto the Cassiar highway, we began to have a more wilderness experience once more.  We had moose cross right in front of us, but couldn’t get a good shot of them…  Then we came across a fox with a squirrel kill—we were starting to think we had some kind of “fox karma” this trip!

The first part of the Cassiar highway that we drove (north to south), was full of burnt forests and was definitely mosquito paradise which Chris found out when he stopped to pick up an abandoned gas can (in case we needed it—such a sucker for the free stuff, ya know?)—wow!  Mr. I-don’t-get-bothered-by-mosquitoes was instantly attacked out there, swatting like mad.  I was so amazed, that I filmed it from inside the car—it was a rare siting for me, seeing him battle those pests.  It was the price he had to pay for that free can but then he proceeded to bring about 20 mosquitoes into the car WITH him—I smacked about 5 on his arm, and then was swatting and smacking like crazy to take care of the others.  Needless to say, I was beginning to wonder about this road we had decided to venture onto…

A Word about Stupid Smart Phone--The Adventurer’s Buzz Kill…

We do not own a smart phone yet—we have stubbornly resisted due to financial reasons and the fact that neither Chris nor I are taken with spending much time on the phone to begin with.  Technology has made lives safer, I do believe—GPS and smart phones can get you out of all kinds of jams when you’re lost.  But here’s the problem in our household:  Chris likes to get lost as part of his adventure, actually.  The thought of having something track him and take away the thrill of finding his way back all on his own resources, totally deflates his sense of fun.  I understand that part of him, but here’s the thing I was thinking as we’re travelling on a road where we saw absolutely NO traffic, getting later into the evening, with about 200 kms to the next town (our destination, Dease Lake) where we weren’t sure whether we had a place or not to sleep, hitting potholes that could have blown a tire easily in mosquito-infested, grizzly-bear occupied country:  “We’re so dumb not to have a smart phone!”

Well, no tires blew and we finally got to Dease Lake at midnight.  They had rooms—and nice comfortable beds—yes!  AND it was QUIET…we slept great.

Sat., 7/6/13
Started out from Dease Lake about 9:00 a.m. to enjoy some more of the Cassiar highway—did some road shot stuff, picture-taking with us driving, etc., then came across a big black bear.  Chris hopped out and filmed it and got way too close for my comfort—scared me to death for him (as of course I’m sitting in the car).  I’m happy to report that he made it back with all of his limbs.  The Cassiar highway was definitely worth it—the traffic is light, the scenery is beautiful, and the road is in pretty good shape.  But it was sensory overload by the time we got to the end of it.  We’re ready to head home now—in a big push kind of way.  Gassed up in New Hazleton, got snacks, stopped for lunch—we were looking for a restaurant that was recommended to us that we either couldn’t find or passed and ended up at a mining camp.  She had no menus and asked if she could make us a burger and a salad—we said sure and they hit the spot!  Fortified ourselves with coffee in Vandervoort and made it into Prince George and the Bon Voyage Motel—our beset one yet at the lowest price yet!!

Sun., 7/7/13
Long day today—started out at 6:30 a.m., grabbed a quick breakfast at McDonald’s 2 hours later, then onto Hope for lunch by 2:00.  We had some incredible sheep filming opportunities between Cache Creek and Hope—saw both Dahl sheep on a ridge above us, and then Stone sheep right by the side of the road!  So that was fun, and we took time to enjoy that before pushing on towards Hope.  Wow, what a disappointment Hope was for us—this was the same town we spent time in filming in 2010 as the “quaint little town”—it was absolutely crawling with people and the little place we ate at that we were so impressed with had shut down as well, so we ended up eating at the Dairy Queen (oh well—some places you can’t go back to—there’s that expectation thing again).

Got to the border by 4:00 with a “20-minute delay” only we ended up doing that thing where you get in the line that looks the fastest, then it halts and doesn’t move…more like a 40-minutes delay.  We gassed up once in the States, then got to I-5 by 5:30.

About 70 miles north of Seattle, there was a huge traffic jam—I-5 was completely stopped.  Chris noticed a bunch of people getting off on the next exit so he followed the “herd”—and dodged a bullet!  They led us to 99N (old highway)—a country road that took us south far enough down to get past the clog—whew!!  Back on I-5 & Seattle (it was its usual harrowing experience for us, but we got ‘er done)…on down to Portland, then Salem.

We figured that we’d done about an 800-mile day today.  And we figured that it was a great trip that we did…great to do…ONCE.  

Monday, September 30, 2013

Clearance For Take Off--Our first trip as retirees in 2013...and a fisherman's wife lament

Due to circumstances we could have not dreamed of or wished on anyone, Chris and I are both retired now.  It’s all about the carpe diem and bucket list fulfillment and, in this vain, we wanted to explore the whole “open-ended” adventure—just take off with our trailer and go wherever we wanted without the constraints of having to go back to work.

The only extra consideration had to do with our beloved 9-year-old tiger-striped calico cat Shoppie who is totally in-door and, like most cats, not real tickled about any change.  We discussed different care methods and the money involved with boarding her made our decision for us.  Shoppie was to become a travelling cat!  We had taken a practice run to the coast for a week in March with mixed results—we had success using the sedative the vet gave us to help with the travelling panic part, but Shoppie stayed hidden most of the week and hardly ate, drank, or used her box.  Hmmm.  We decided to chance it and see how she did on our open-ended foray…and she ended up surprising us—not only adapting but seeming to enjoy all the variety of “kitty television”—Chris’ son Dustin’s term for the view out the window for cats—the trailer had to offer in various settings.

Eastern Oregon Fix, April 2013
(Chicahominy, Mann Lake, Page Springs, Krumbo Lake, Strawberry Mountains)

Well I’d like to say, “Wow, from start to finish, a fantastic trip!” But I’d be lying if I did.  Truth is, I discovered something about myself I’m not all that proud of—actually, it’s not like I just discovered it—it just became evident in a big way as our trip commenced this time:  I’ve become somewhat of an outdoor wimp.  Forget the Mount Hood climb in my 20’s, the back-packing I’ve done and hiking that I love to do.  If the weather sucks, I don’t care how great the fishing is, I’m not having a great time outside.

Okay, first off, a little vacation perspective Preuitt-style:  For me, it’s all about the weather, the peace, the beauty.  I can be anywhere reading a good book or walking, or just sitting and enjoying nature, if the weather isn’t brutal and the bugs are at a minimum; if there’s a boat involved, there are extra points for me because I love being on a boat.  For Chris, it’s all about the fishing—it doesn’t matter what the weather (rain, hail, wind, cold), if the fish are biting, he’s happy.  And, bless his heart, he has tried to share or pass on this passion to me—to the point that he ties on my hook, baits up my hook, makes most of the casts, takes care of and cleans the fish, and enthusiastically cheers me on when I have a fish on (on the plus side for him, he gets one more pole in the water with my fishing license).  There are times when I’ve been charged up (especially when there’s a boat involved), but mostly I want to get back to the quiet, the peace, and the beauty.  Which means, I actually enjoy the times when the fish aren’t biting (uh-oh, did I just hear the thunder and roar of the fishing gods smacking me down for even whispering this?).

So, I can read a book and do other stuff inside if needed—and I’ve done that—but this trip I wanted to make sure Chris got the filming he wanted.  I know how hard it is to try and film activities you’re doing yourself, so I felt compelled to accompany him--regardless of harsh weather--as he did his fishing thing.

Thurs., 4/18/13
We arrived in Chicahominy Thursday night, April 18th and the scene coming in was breath-taking.  The beauty of the lake, a spectacular sunset beginning, and evident walking paths everywhere—I got excited and thought, “Awesome!”  Then the wind picked up.  And then the cold (really cold) started in, and some rain began to fall.  And…of course…after setting up camp, we took off for some fishing!

But not to worry—Chris had devised a new way of fishing that I really took to in the cold and wind:  He got the poles all set up, we filmed a little, then ran back inside the cab of the truck to listen to books on tape while waiting for fish to bite.  Ahhhh, yes!!  Now we’re onto something!  And Chris was excited because he was catching some really nice Rainbow Trout.

Fri., 4/19/13
Chris got us up bright and early to go fishing and I bundled up (burrrrr!)—long underwear, pants, 3 tops plus an overcoat, hat, gloves, 3 pairs of socks—and I was still cold out in the wind (wind chill factor felt like about 10 degrees).  I was leaping into the truck after we did obligatory filming and fishing.  Thank goodness for the warm trailer.  Shoppie had the best plan—rolled up underneath the quilt on top of the bed.  I took a peak at her undercover and she looked at me like, “You better NOT ruin this for me!”

Chris’ buddy Steve Biddinger arrived that day and we visited in our trailer with him that evening before turning in with the plan for some early-morning fishing.

Sat., 4/20/13
Day 3 and it’s cold (really) and windy (really).  All the layering in the world didn’t help with 6 hours of fishing (6 a.m. to noon).  I had an excuse to make a trip back to camp and took my time—ran the heater full blast in the truck, then kinda lingered before heading back.  It took exactly 20 minutes before I was freezing again.

Okay, so at this point, I can detect all the fisherman types exclaiming, “Wow!  Worth all of that wind and cold—the fishing must’ve been great, huh?!!?  Talk about that, would you?”  I will.  Chris was catching some nice big trout (18” or so)—we ate some (yum!) and he did some excited catching and releasing along with those he kept.  His buddies Steve (Biddinger) and Steve (Fossholm—he and his wife Lori arrived Saturday) went out and had at them as well.

So here’s the thing I’ve learned about fishing people.  You’re probably wondering (as I do myself sometimes) why I even go along on these fishing trips.  It’s simple.   Most fishing people seem to seek out the best of places for reflection—the beautiful, peaceful and quiet spots.  They also seem to have figured out the aspect of life that many religious groups have been striving to achieve for centuries:  living in the moment—a kind of zen-like oneness with nature if you will.  It’s about what’s at the end of the line—the mystery, the surprise, the anticipation.  As meditators around the world strive to empty their minds of everything and focus on breathing in and breathing out, fishermen are already empty-headed (evidenced by the o-dark-thirty windy, cold attraction “thang”) and focused on catching and not catching fish.  Some of the most crazed of fishing peeps (Chris included) aren’t catching to eat the fish—Steve Fossholm doesn’t even like seafood!—No, no.  It’s worth getting up at crack-o’-dawn o-dark-thirty, and freezing in wind-chill 10 degree weather in order to catch fish to let them go…or keep them to maybe eat (or maybe not). I have failed to achieve that oneness as I still think “Okay, I’m pretty sure there’s a fish at the end of that line.”  Period.  The zen thing gets kind of muddied for me when I can’t feel my toes.  But if I want the perfect place to relax and enjoy the surroundings, I’ll keep coming along because I sure would hate to miss the good days.

And there were lots of those good weather days ahead, but I would not have known this by Day 5.  By Day 5 of the wind and the cold, I was ready to go into hair-styling or something—anything indoors—and those of you who really know me, know what a desperate time that was for me!  I had pretty much decided that cold and wind could easily be used as a torture device; any of my classified secrets would all have been shared by Day 5.

Luckily, the trailer was warm and the food was great.  We also had some fun shared times with the Steves and Lori, and eventually their buddy Dylan as well on the trailer (watching movies, laughing).

Sun., 4/21/13
Today Chris suggested I take a break from filming duties and relax on the trailer while he and the Steves battled the early cold to fish—yay!!  I burrowed under the covers with Shoppie (I really do think this cat has the right idea), read my book, and got dressed.  I saw Lori walking about and invited her in—we had a nice time, ate a little breakfast and both expressed our gratitude for not having to face the cold out there.  Once the wind died down, we took a walk-about on some of the paths.

The guys got back with not much of a fishing report (Steve F. caught one) and Chris and I did some walking around/filming after Chris helped Steve F. get his boat launched. 

Mon., 4/22/13
Chris came up with a side trip idea which was great, even though a flat tire sent us back to Burns for a couple of hours just a couple of miles away from our first destination.  We finally ventured into Yellow Jacket Lake (don’t be scared, it’s just a name) on brand new tires, which was beautiful--listened to books on tape, stopped by Moon Reservoir, then headed back to camp.  Chris was not impressed by the fishing at either spot, but we both enjoyed the drive.

Steve F.’s friend Dylan arrived, and Steve B. decided to head on down to Mann Lake.

We finished up with an evening of fishing and freezing our butts (but we did do the cab-style fishing method which took the edge off of that—whew!).

Tue., 4/23/13
Steve B. had invited us to come join him at Mann Lake and when Chris excitedly asked me about it, my first inclination was to decline and entertain indoor wind-free, chill-free activities (reading, writing, snuggling with Shoppie).  I’d been to Mann Lake when it was not fun (windy, cold) and frankly, to use a little fishing jargon here—I had limited out on the joys of that.  Nope—indoor sounded much better.

But then that nagging pull inside of me won over—what if Chris had the most exciting day ever and I wasn’t there to capture it on film?  Aghghghgh!!!  Off I went.

And my soul was restored for the effort.  It was a picture-perfect day, Steens Mountain was glorious—a filming mecca—beautiful!!  Steve and Chris caught some nice cutthroat trout and I got some great stuff on film (pelicans in flight, egrets, muskrats, etc.).  Not to mention, my legs and hands warmed up to normal outdoors—what a treat!

Renewed and happy with the turn in the weather, we returned back to camp and the evening fishing wasn’t torture for me—yay!!—it was actually pretty pleasant out there (no truck cab needed, thank you).

Wed., 4/24/13
Another beautiful day in store, and I got to hang with Lori—she and I did mellow nice-day stuff (chatted, walked around, read books) while Steve F. and Chris drove around scouting for elk.  When they got back I asked if they had seen any—nope.  “But,” Steve said, “I heard one—really close to where Chris was at—a great bugling!”  It turned out to be Chris—that guy!  Mr. Dances with Crows strikes again (his “animal talk” knows no bounds).

Chris and I did an evening at the ol’ “D” fishing spot again on the Chicahominy—were even able to sit out in our chairs—it was beautiful!  I’m thinking, “Wow, I could do this forever…”  But guess what happened?  The fish stopped biting.  Guess what that means?  Time to move on.  We had a nice last evening and prepared for leaving the next day.

Thurs., 4/25/13
We packed up and headed to Page Springs campground in Malheur (one of our favorite spots) for a change of fishing—uh—scenery!

First we had to tend to chores in Burns—doing laundry at the “Jiffy Wash”—quite the catchy little spot (dumpy little place on an unmarked corner—you have to ASK to find it), dumping the holding tanks, loading up with water, gas, and filling up the propane tanks…we also hit the library so that we could catch up on email and Facebook Scrabble games.  Then off we went.

Another gorgeous day—and Page Springs wasn’t crowded at all!  In fact, the best spot in the house as far as we are concerned (corner lot, secluded) was all ours.

Shoppie had traveled drug-free and took right to the new spot—she’s a bona fide camping cat now—woo-hoo!

Fri., 4/26/13
Malheur refuge has always been a favorite of mine.  There’s nothing more enjoyable than scouting along “Patrol Road”—a 10-mile dirt road through the refuge full of wildlife viewing—in the early morning and early evening when critters seem to be most active.  We did both runs today and enjoyed another glorious day.  We saw lots of antelope, 2 otters that we just missed on film (dang!), pheasant, deer, ducks, egrets, cranes, and some long-billed birds that stopped us several times.  It’s fun to be driving along and suddenly one of us gasps—oh!  And the brakes slam on, cameras come out, excitement ensues.  Great fun.

We hiked up into the hills looking for Indian artifacts and ended up running into a different kind of artifact spot—some kind of mining camp with old bottles and jars (one was an old Listerine bottle from about 60 years ago—kinda cool).  When we got back to camp, we interviewed our neighbors, Steve and Sharon, who had a really interesting military-looking rig that they used to camp in.  Turns out they bought it from a Dutch couple and had quite the adventure (went to the arctic circle, South America and all over the place—lots of stories to tell).  Fascinating!

Beautiful water spots have a way of attracting the mosquitos which definitely come out in full force in the evenings.  I got to test out the Listerine bug repellant theory that my Dad and others had suggested—worked really well but got rather sticky.  I became slayer-of-the-winged beasts in the trailer—hey, so call me territorial!  And poor Shoppie thought I was somehow scolding her every time I slapped my hands together to mutilate one of the pests but over time she got used to it—“Oh, just Mom being weird again.”  And on one occasion she actually double-teamed with me—swatted one down on the table and I finished her off (Chris was quick to remind me that the biting ones are the females—I had other female-like names for them as I avenged their intrusions into our trailer).

A word about Mr. Preuitt and bugs.  He is NOT affected whatsoever—like his Mom, they have tough skin that I guess protects from all kinds of atrocities that seem to find their way to me and make my life miserable.  Chris can leap into a wad of Poison Oak and not even itch; mosquitos hover around but don’t bite him.  I’ll be slapping away and miserable and he’s simply flicking fingers to get them out of his vision or to keep their wings from tickling.  I’m not the only who has witnessed this.  Just ask Steve B. about Big (he calls it—with no apparent affection—“Bug”) Lake in Alaska.  Chris came back unscathed; Steve welted up and sprayed up from then on.  I’m not fond of Deet and poisoning myself which is why the Listerine attracted me…it allows me to be “like Chris”—they hover but don’t bite (except for the parts I didn’t get sprayed/doused—dang!).  Chris doesn’t understand quite what all the fuss is about and just looks at me with disbelief as I slap, smack, and flail about ridding myself of those pests.

The Listerine allowed me to be somewhat composed outside, but I was relieved to be back on the trailer during evening “feeding times”.  We supped well (as always), played with the cat, and watched a movie…toughing it out as usual!

Sat., 4/27/13
Today’s opening day at Krumbo Reservoir—one of Chris’ big goals—and we headed out at o-dark-thirty (well, 5:30) and ended up LATE—people were out on the lake in their boats already and the parking lot was packed—so we got set up quickly on the bank (tried higher up at first but clambering down and up the rocks was a bit much) and wow—never better fishing—bang! Bang! Bang!  Chris was thrilled and it was a busy, busy time—great opening day—never had time to drink our coffee—caught 15 fish, kept 4 and Chris (yes, Chris) was DONE after 2 ½ hours.  Double WOW.

We then had time to kill and Chris once again had eyes for the weird and made us a fun couple of hours in the desert crafting some art-in-nature rock gargoyles.  Gotta love that guy!!  He busied about gathering rocks (for eyes and teeth), sage and shrub for eybrows, etc., to enhance some already oddly-shaped rocks into his “masterpieces”.  We filmed them out, naturally, and I realized another reason why I married this man—he’s nuts!  I love it!

We listened to our book and napped back at camp before hitting Patrol Road once again.  Amazing weather again—verrrrrry relaxing.

Chris decided we should do some “interviewing” in our camp chairs, so I took the on-camera opportunity to show how one lathers up with Listerine.  Chris’ eyes about rolled out of their sockets from eye-rolling.  Poor guy—what he has to put up with—hah!!

Sun., 4/28/13
Of course, after the success on opening day (yesterday), Krumbo was calling Mr. Preuitt for more fishing—as it turned out, it was not so hot and Chris then lost his pole.  The fish swam off with it and then began jumping out a way’s from us—Chris cast out and was at least able to catch and free the fish, but alas, his pole didn’t make it back.

We took our time getting back to base and then took off on a nature trail up through some really pretty forest, then into the sage brush.  On top, it looked like there was another trail heading back, so we started on it, only to realize it was a cattle trail…

At the top of the ridge, we could see the Steens Loop Road, so we headed across the windy “savannah” of sage brush to take the road back to camp.  Well, that was the plan and that’s the one I stuck to.  Chris had other “short cut” ideas and I had been on enough of his “short cuts” to opt out of it.  He ended up on top of the cliffs overlooking our camp site—and I could see him up there when I got back to base.  He scared the poop out of me because it looked like he was going to scale down the cliff, but I guess he was just hamming it up for the camera.  Oh well—I was pretty miffed with him for that, but I got over it.  And he was thrilled—got his adventure of the day in.

Had some more good eats for supper and turned in kinda early with a comedy DVD—and were pretty sure we’d be packing up to go to our next destination (the mountains) in the morning.

Mon., 4/29/13
With morning came a turn in the weather and we opted to stay another day and relax—to see what the weather brought.  We talked of playing Scrabble and such as we made our lazy way through the morning Patrol run after breakfast. 

By the time we got back to camp, I was entertaining notions of book-reading, writing, and taking a shower.  That’s how I relax.  Here’s how Chris relaxes:  about 2 minutes after we got back to base, he announced, “You know, I’m thinking of doing something really stupid.”  Uh-oh.  “Yes, I believe I’m going to go fish for my lost fishing pole.”  So off he went. 

I stayed with Shoppie, took care of some cleaning chores (around the trailer and for me), read, filmed a little, wrote, drank tea, sat and enjoyed the weather.  And…with the slightly chillier & breezier weather, I could actually sit outside bug-free—wee-hawww!!

Chris had himself an adventure and a rip-snorting time fishing.  He had Krumbo to himself and the fishing was absolutely hot—he’s pretty sure he had that 24”-er hooked but it snapped his line—he had the time of his life.  He also had quite the story on the fishing pole—he caught a fish and as he was reeling it in saw another line attached—could it be his fishing rod?  Then a flasher and some other gear appeared—he pulled in someone ELSE’s other line…!!  On the way back, he stopped at another junk pile and brought back 2 more old jars.  Only sour note—the refrigerator appeared to be having issues and we thought we might have to change our plans.  So goes RVing sometimes…things can come up unexpectedly like that.

Tue., 4/30/13
Our 14th wedding anniversary today (18th year of being together) and my 53rd birthday.  We celebrated in the usual way—hugged each other.  We agreed that my present to him would be to film him catching the 24-incher and his to me to play some Scrabble or Cribbage.

But then we got into messing with the frig again—hoping to figure out a way to make it work.  It may mean going to Bend (where there are RV places) and figuring out something from there once it’s fixed.  Wait—a “reboot” (off/on) and it appears to be working—yay!

We had breakfast and off to original plans—off to fish (Chris) and film (me)—of course!!

How do I love thee?  Let me count thy ways.  For starters, it was 28 degrees in Burns at about 7:00 a.m., so about that at camp (though we were plenty warm while on the trailer!).  I’m wearing the usual 3 pairs of socks, 3 shirts with coat over, long johns & jeans on the legs.  We got to the fishing spot and Chris had caught a fish by 9:00 a.m.  He wanted to film us arriving at the spot, so I went ahead with the camera, down the rocks, set up the camera, hit record, clambered back up with my armload of stuff, then we went down as though we had professionals filming us…thus it goes for amateurs on a fixed income.  I have a book to read, coffee to drink, and Chris even brought in a chair for me since it’s my birthday—no sitting on cold rocks this morning—yay!!

With no wind and the sun out, it’s really not bad and it’s an absolutely gorgeous day—nice, quiet, peaceful here (and no bugs so far—weee!).  Chris is predicting we’ll be sorry we have our long johns on later in the day.  I beg to differ, but we’ll see.  I don’t mean to work against the guy, but when the fishing’s not so great, I do get more relaxed reading time.  Just sayin’.  So when he says, “Well, it’s not looking too good right now,”—this from a man who estimates that he’s caught about 30 good-sized (over 16”) trout out of Krumbo so far—I’m enjoying the peace.  Right now, no bites…sunshine sparkling on the water, sun’s out, geese and other birds are making their sounds (some are songs, others are squawks).

I mellowed right out and the fishing was good too—we were both happy (Happy Anniversary!)—Chris caught about a dozen good ones, then landed one over 20 inches after it crossed his line and picked up some OTHER gear once again (a new-found talent of his).  At 11:00, we decided we’d “hang” a little longer.  Sun shining, a beautiful day, great book, can’t complain!

Chris wanted to move to the dock where a buddy’s father had fished for 20 years—he caught a fish there for his memory.  Then upon reeling up his last line, the 2-footer he was after followed his line all the way up to the dock!  This just made him laugh—a good cap on the day.

We ran the Patrol road (slow way back) and saw the group of 10 deer we’ve been spotting but no otters (we kept hoping to see them again).  Gassed up in Frenchglen, then snacked, played Scrabble, called my Mom & Dad, then sister Kris, ate dinner, watched Jeopardy/Wheel of Fortune, played more Scrabble, watched more stuff, and played with Shoppie.  All in all, a perfect day.  Oh yeah…and I won the last 2 Scrabble games—woo-hoo!!

Wed., 5/1/13
Another beautiful day but we’ve decided to head over the mountains for a spell before heading home.  Had an incident with shifting as Chris was cranking down the trailer and poor Shoppie thought we were having an earthquake—I found her hiding in the bathtub with huge black eyes, looking at me as if to say, “The world as we know it is over!”  I put her in the carrier and up in the truck cab and she seemed to calm down quite a bit.

On to Burns to gas up and dump, then on up north (395) south of Seneca to the Silvies River—took a break at a campsite to practice with Shoppie (for longer journeys, she’s going to need to “take breaks”)—played Cribbage and she ran around the trailer. 

Found a glorious camp spot right on the Silvies and then took a walk—saw a deer cross the river, ducks, geese—but no turkeys (Chris has a turkey tag in case).  No fish are biting either but it was still a beautiful spot.  Having ribs for dinner (zucchinis, onion, potato mix, and salad)—yum!  Entertaining ourselves with DVD’s tonight—no Satellite—we’ll have to survive somehow.  J

Thur., 5/2/13
Something to make us all feel better about aging:  Think of all the activities you would miss out on in life if you never lost or misplaced things.  Rather than dwell on what’s being forgotten, think of how finely tuned our synapses are becoming as we wrack our brains to figure out the where’s and the when’s—and then the physical fitness as we retrace our steps!

I’m pondering these things today because we seemed to have hit the Twilight Zone vortex with bad “sunglass karma” events.  If we had been paying attention, we would have realized that yesterday had provided some foreshadowing when I backed up and crunched a pair of my sunglasses on the trailer during our Burns gas-up stop.  A dreaded sound—Crunch!—but not to worry!  I wasn’t a Girl Scout in my day for nothing!  I was prepared—I had my handy-dandy 2nd pair—a fine polarized special hiking pair that I had come to love on this trip.

So, imagine my Girl-Scout-preparedness smugness as Chris dealt with his own sunglass karma later in the day.  He managed to lose his sunglasses on the hike we took once we set up camp, and we had to backtrack until we found them—whew!  Okay.  Then we were back at camp and he once again didn’t have his beloved pair of sunglasses—wow!!  We looked everywhere—must’ve been on the hike—too late to go looking for them now—he had to squint and I felt sorry for him but also felt that bit of smugness by the fact that I had MY pair.  Chris did manage to find a cheapo not-so-hot backup pair so he made do, but we decided to look for his main pair the following day… 

And that brings us to today.  Okay.  Cold morning—so cold, our wet socks had frozen solid on the bushes where we’d put them to dry (why were they wet?—Preuitt short-cut through the creek yesterday, naturally).  After breakfast, we prepared to take that walk to find his sunglasses. 

While gathering my stuff together to hike, I went to get MY sunglasses in their usual spot by the couch—not there.  No problem, I probably just stuck them in my purse—my other usual spot.  Not there either.  Okay, they’ve GOT to be here somewhere—dropped?  Nope.  Under the couch?  Nope.  By the river where we sat last night?  Nope.  Hmmmm---now the hunt was on in camp.  Finally, we gave up on my missing sunglasses and decided to go ahead and look for Chris’ lost pair—that way, at least we’d have 1 pair each. 

We were not holding our breath on the success of this venture but off we went nonetheless.  Halfway to our turn-around spot from yesterday—Voila!—found ‘em right there on the path!!  Okay!  Now all that’s left is the trailer/camp hunt for my pair.

We exhausted all places that we could think of—even searched the garbage—nope!  Finally—as I was looking around the bed, I noticed that Chris’ side had extra space between the mattress and dresser that my side didn’t.  Upon pushing the mattress towards his side to allow for more space on my side, the glasses popped out.  Woo-hoooo! 

All the excitement and happiness was ours to be had after that—we were full of ecstatic cheering over wasted hours of looking and hair-pulling—amazing huh?  And it gave us such a sense of accomplishment which, if we really examined it closer, we’d have realized that there was no great progress because we were at the same point we were before the loss.  Oh well.  We’re adults.  We can take this.  Onward we go.

We broke camp and made our way to Detroit Lake for our final night.  We had a fun drive (book-on-tape company, of course), and Chris spotted an odd exchange between a farmer on a tractor and a crow—it appeared to him that they were playing a game they played often, like they were “buds”—the crow swooped down like he wanted to take the farmer’s hat off and the farmer swatted and laughed at him—they did this ritual as if they did it often.

Detroit Lake was packed—not the serenity that we had been used to, but we made the most of it.  With full hookups, you relax a little more (no generator needed, water abundant), so we hooked up, and went to the dock to fish (of course!) and reflect on the trip.

We agreed that we were ready to return home the next day, but it had been a really great trip.  Chris likes to point out that you take pleasures in the small things (must be that fisherman zen-like thing), and I have to agree there.  We came back to mounds of mail and email and Facebook posts and it makes you realize how subtly complicated life is on a daily basis—stuff we all take for granted anymore.  If it takes “empty-headedness” to feel this relaxed and recharged after being so disconnected, then so be it.

Preparing for the next Take-Off, Captain!