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| S**t eating grin |
Miraculous things are happening in the world of Fric and Frac. On the moderately miraculous side (since all it took was money), Frac grew two feet right before our very eyes. The longer version gives us a standup shower, a spacious water closet, a bit more counter space in the kitchen, and a walk around bed. More miraculous than that was that Stumpy (The Wily Cager) regenerated her entire array of digits: feet and toes. I'm entirely grateful for the miracle because it was becoming quite onerous to drag her everywhere we went. It's all good, though because we're on the eve of this year's adventure, and we'll need her at full strength. We plan to travel for three weeks from mid October to the first week of November in order to get Fric and Frac below the snow line. We'll store the rigs in San Jose, California and fly home for the holidays as well as Judy's knee replacement surgery. After the holidays ( and depending on Judy's recovery), we'll fly back to California, pick up Fric and Frac and begin our 2015 adventure down the California coast below San Francisco. This past weekend was a shakedown of the new trailer. It's not only longer, but a bit wider and a bit heavier. We had to test it. Everything works well. The extra space is delicious, the extra light is delightful, and the new smell wafts luxury like warm semel baking in the oven. So far, so good. There is some news on the cribbage front. Because of her miraculous digit regeneration, Judy is back to being known as the Wily Cager (She's still capable of some pretty bold maneuvers, after all), and we've decided to play for money. We're going to play for a penny a point plus a nickel a game. We'll pay up the night before we get home from this year's long adventure. Right now the Wily Cager up $.75. We've shared this shakedown weekend with our friends, the Ulmens who also enjoy tandem riding. Yesterday, we rode along the south end of Coeur 'd alene Lake on the area's fabulous rail trail of the same name. From Heyburn State Park to Harrison is about twenty miles round trip. It was very pleasant as we are enjoyed one of the Pacific Northwest's best features: Indian Summer. Almost yearly, after our long hot summers, we enjoy a period in September where the daytime temperatures warm to the mid seventies with clear skies and gentle breezes and the night time temperatures fall to the mid fifties. It's absolutely stunning to be in the woods this time of year to watch the last wisps of summer turn into orange and yellow as the chemical processes of dying leaves produce the beautiful fall colors. It's not as stunning as the East coast because we have more pines than deciduous trees, but nonetheless, our Larches, Aspens, and Bitter bushes put on a nice show. As always, life is good, especially today.
The soft light of Indian Summer as seen from our front window.
Our new Frac nestled safely in its first camping spot.
Fric will carry just the tandem this year. We didn't really ride our singles last year.
The rear windows provide the view from our bedroom.
The Ulmen tandem eager to hit the trail.
Mr. Ulmen setting up his trailer. Easy duty for an experienced hand like him.
It is fitting that the best sites at Heyburn are the tent sites down by the lake.
Summer beauty yet to fade into fall.
Warm, calm, beautiful.
And reflective: We've much to be thankful for.
Dinner party one: guests are always welcome.
Sweet treats!
It's getting dark: Good night, Cager.
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| Birthday Cedars |
From last we met, life and cribbage have continued. We have enjoyed a glorious summer filled with gardening, biking, sailing, and general "laking". At one point, the Wily Cager, who remains a profoundly successful card shark, had a match with Douglissimo at Priest Lake. She was up to her usual tricks, and then some. After one deal, Douglissimo was over celebrating a fortuitous hand when amazingly, the Cager reached over and picked up his uncounted crib. What happened next should be cause for sending the children to safety. After much noise and confusion and at least one reloading, the Cager was a stumpy mess. All ten of her toes and eight of her fingers were picked off as Douglissimo expertly fired one round after another. When the smoke cleared and the acrid smell of gun powder settled, the scene was a bloody carnage of severed toes and fingers. The bottom line is that the Cager has a new name: Stumpy. Undaunted, Stumpy settled in for the beginning of birthday month in a little grove of cedars along the St. Joe river. Though damp the first night, the remainder of the stay was punctuated by clear skies and warm temps. The only other guests along the river were fly fishermen and a lone bald eagle that flew upstream about twenty feet off the ground following the contours of the river. I don't imagine he had a catch and release policy in mind. During our three day stay, Stumpy was on fire (I'm not sure she even cheated) as she tallied one double figure hand after another. She was so cute, holding her cards between her thumbs and her single remaining digits. Cute quickly changed to killer as she spanked me 8-2. I'm as generous as the next guy on birthdays, but this is carrying it a bit far. The purpose of our trip to the Joe was to shake down Fric and Frac after a dormant summer in preparation for this winter's return to the wilds of the Southwest. Beginning mid October, we plan to travel for three weeks far enough to get below the snow line. We'll store the truck and trailer somewhere near San Jose until January. Mid November, Stumpy will have knee replacement surgery, and as soon after the new year that she is ready, we'll return to Fric and Frac to begin our second season of winter traveling. For now, remember that life is good, especially today.
Stumpy can "hold" a book, but page turning is more difficult.
Frac shedding water like a silver water bird.
Damp and gray, but also fresh and clean.
The first night we enjoyed the rain pecking steadily on the trailer.
The next morning brought the sun.
Frac in his glory.
Not too bad after sixty-eight years.
Frac's tailgate provided a nice painting spot.
The shadowy St. Joe as interpreted in 2014.
The gallery from inside the front window.
Stumpy, her sly grin showing, but notice--no hands.
Her weapon.
This gentleman said he has fished this spot for twenty years.
