The Adventures of Fric and Frac: April 2015

Monday, April 27, 2015

Adventure 264: Princess Diaries/Riverside State Park

All the pretty girls in campsite #2

Home for just a week, rattling around our three story home like a couple a topless tupperware containers in a Lazy Susan, we decided to venture out with our grand daughters (AKA: The Princesses) for an overnighter before we put Frac away for awhile. We drove ten whole miles and twenty-two whole minutes down to a local gem called Riverside State Park. Judy commented that our site- which was right next to the river under a stand of tall white pine, one of which housed a full nest of fledgling osprey-was one of the most beautiful places we've stopped. It's ironic that the site is just a stone's throw from our home. The evening was perfect. The girls brought their sleeping bags, their "possibles", and their school clothes. We hiked, roasted weenies and marshmallows, and snuggled in to watch a Shrek movie (Which was quite good). In the morning, Mimi Judy cooked pancakes and we escorted the girls to school. It was a really fun overnighter. After dropping the girls off, Judy and I went back to the park, which was now bathed in the warm sunshine of a near perfect spring morning. We emptied the trailer of clothes and such, did some post trip cleaning, did the form, and took the trailer to the dealer for a recall (Mostly likely unnecessary) and a few small repairs. After we get the trailer back from its check up, we'll likely not take it out again for a while. We're busy now finding new routines. Judy has been digging, I've done a little work on the boat, and we've whittled out spring "To Do" list down a bit. It seems a little bit strange being home and even stranger not to be within each other's sight, but as usual, life is good, especially today.

Sarah helping put Frac's feet down.

Emily helping, too.

Here we are atop the "pitcher" part of the 'Bowl and Pitcher'.

A view of the "Swinging Bridge", which crosses the Spokane River and leads to a maze of hiking/biking trails.

The princess's dad may remember this view.

The girls taking a water break on our hike.

Art shot of the day: The "Bowl and Pitcher".

There they go across the swinging bridge.

Emily, tending the fire.

The view out our bedroom window. Just beyond this flat spot is the rapids below the swinging bridge.

Where's Sarah?

There she is, tending the fire.

Emily says she loves to watch the patterns of smoke coming off of her stick.

Sarah doing a little drawing.

Weenies roasting!

My beenie-weenie plate. Yum!

Sarah's mouth might be a little too full.

Mellows roasting!

Princesses ready to snuggle in for the night.

Sunday, April 19, 2015

Adventure 263: Home Sweet Home/Last Entry of Year Two

Lumpy and Stumpy (Alias Fric and Frac)

We're back safe and sound. Once again we were blessed with traveling mercies, and as for that ninety-nine percent of our traveling days presented us with uncommon luck: No mishaps, no flats, no crashes, no near misses, no misery at all. Wow! The past few days we've been running hard, both of us feeling the fever of getting home (Judy to dig in the dirt; me to get to the lake). Today, we drove straight through from my father's house in Madras, OR. It's 343 miles and it took a little over six hours. All told, we traveled just under eleven thousand miles (On the truck odometer). Most of that included the trailer, but quite a bit included tourist driving around the places we visited. A quick summary: We left October 15 and traveled from Spokane to Portland for a quick grandson fix (Sawyer). From there we traveled down the Oregon coast, making three two day hops. We dodged some rain, got soaked by some, and generally enjoyed ourselves. We continued down the Northern California coast to the Redwoods, where we enjoyed one beautiful day among the giants, and one rainy day so dark and dreary we cut the visit short. That decision proved to be fortunate because it meant that the time we spent in Yosemite coincided with a weather window that was perfect. We ended that portion of the trip by storing the truck and trailer in a little town south of San Jose called Morgan Hill. Then we flew home to enjoy Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Judy's knee replacement surgery. Judy (Stumpy) powered through the first part of her rehab like the champion she is, and by January 10, we were ready to fly back to California to retrieve Fric and Frac. From there we cruised down the rest of the California coast (Carmel, Morrow Bay, Santa Barbara, Crystal Cove [LA], San Diego. We spent Super Bowl weekend with our good friends the Cramer's who live in a suburb outside San Diego. Then we met my cousin, Douglas, in Death Valley. From there we stayed with our good friends, the Ellsworth's in Lake Havasu (One of only four repeats this year from last). From there we ventured to Phoenix where we stayed for a month so we could study Tai Chi (That's where I learned that I don't even know how to stand correctly after studying for twelve years--humility lessons are good for me). We spent four days in Tucson visiting our good friends, the Kral's, and then we headed for Texas, after a very pleasant three day stop and tour of Las Cruces, NM. We had planned on visiting Big Bend National Park, but our arrival coincided with spring break and there wasn't any room in the inn (So to speak--it was college kids after all). Instead, we ventured back to the gulf and landed in Galveston for a spell. That's where we realized that Gonzaga would be playing in the Sweet Sixteen (And Final 8) in Houston. We were so close, we changed our plans and headed into the morass of Houston. Basketball is quite a draw. It was fabulous, even though we lost to the Dukies. From there we took an abbreviated tour through the piney woods of East Texas before traveling to Kansas for Easter (We visited both of Judy's sisters). After a week or so in Kansas, we made an overnight stay in Judy's birthplace, Beatrice, NE. We enjoyed a very nice day with her cousin Dale Linsenmeyer. Then we started smelling the barn (It must have been the midwestern manure). We galloped halfway across Nebraska to an overnight stop in North Platte. We spent the next night with Tim Ulmen and his wife Carissa Pereda in Cheyenne, WY. Then the weather forced us to drive hard to get out from under a front. We were set up and plugged in at the Sweetwater Fairgrounds in Rock Springs, WY when the caretaker casually mentioned that the next day was going to bring high winds. We checked the weather and a massive front was on its way to Utah. We decided then and there to pull up stakes, and we drove (463 total) all the way to Brigham City, Utah that same day. The next day we hunkered down to let the storm pass over us. It proved to be a wise decision. Brigham City recorded winds in the sixty mile and hour range. Just South in Salt Lake, they recorded 80-100. Trucks were blowing over; I-80 was closed to high profile vehicles, and we were thankful to be warm and snuggily in the Golden Spike RV park in Brigham City. We did wake up the next morning to four inches of snow, but by the time we headed out, it had melted and the air temperature was moving past the freezing. We arrived a the Hooley farm in Filer, ID mid afternoon, and spent a joyous day, evening, and next morning with those folks. We took the back roads to Vale, OR the next day, following Gary Hooley's advice. It was one of our most pleasant drives. Bright sun, green farms, cows, few cars, and the thankful glow of good fortune traveling with us. We spent an easy evening in Vale, which is a little cow town in Eastern Oregon that has as its claim to be an actual part of the Oregon trail. The town does a nice job of promoting the idea. It's filled with twenty eight very well done (But sun faded) murals depicting life as it was during the pioneer days. The next morning was so lovely, we enjoyed a six hour trek across the high desert of Oregon to my father's house in Madras (A day early). He was sitting outside his garage drinking a Coors Light waiting for us to arrive. We spent two days with him, took him to visit his wife's grave (The first anniversary of her death is this week, and what would have been her 94th birthday is tomorrow). I hope we deflected a little bit of his loneliness. At any rate, we left his house this morning around nine thirty and we were back home by three-thirty. It felt a bit surreal. We caught our good friends, the Ulmen's, coming out of our house (They had just left a welcome home bouquet on our kitchen table). Our neighbors across the street, the Schafers and the Burgads came out of their homes to welcome us and chit-chat. It felt good to be home. We then met our son and his family (Steve, Bonnie, Emily, and Sarah) along with Bonnie's brother, Ben, for pizza. To top it off, by chance, Greg Smith, a former co-worker and coaching colleague of mine was at the pizza parlor. We hugged. I promised to come visit, and just like that it was back to whatever normal is. Right now, I couldn't put a name on a favorite place, express a favorite moment, remember a favorite sight, or describe the best experience, but I can name the top two things I ate: Mole Burrito at the Atoyac Cafe in Phoenix, and Chile Verde at the St. Francis Cafe, also in Phoenix. I hope those of you who followed along with us enjoyed the trip. Stay tuned, God willing, there will be more adventures of Fric and Frac. And think about this. I heard it today while listening to sermons given by our old pastor, David Peterson (Well worth listening to: Google him). Two lines that stick with me: First, Don't worry so much about being blessed; instead, concentrate on being a blessing to others. Second, Don't worry about solving all the injustice in the world; instead, trust in God's plan (He's a professional at vengeance; humans just come off as mean spirited). The thing is, the more we find out about the mysteries of the universe, either microscopically or telescopically, the more we realize the infinite nature of God's creation, and since God speaks to us through his natural world, how can we not be hopeful, much less deny His existence or question His wisdom. Therefore, I must conclude with whatever clear vision I have that life is good, especially today.
Goodbye for now.

Home safe after an exceptional run, and ever thankful for good fortune.

Friday, April 17, 2015

Adventure 262: Madras, OR

George Esher Williams Jr.

Fric and Frac worked up quite a lather today as we ventured across the vastness of Eastern Oregon. We left Vale a little before ten, gained an hour when we passed into Pacific Time, and thoroughly enjoyed a perfect traveling day watching Oregon change from sage brush desert to high desert pines. We traversed three summits (The highest 5,224), swirled down three canyons, and flushed ourselves out onto the green grasslands and cattle ranches near Prineville, Oregon. The day was sunny bright, windless, and the vastness of Eastern Oregon was dressed in its most welcoming clothes. We had originally planned to spend another night out before we got to Madras, but we arrived in John Day a little after eleven, enjoyed a delicious panini at the local coffee shop, and decided to push on. We called Dad to expect us, and he was sitting outside his garage, watering bushes, drinking a Coors light when we arrived. As a widower living alone, his main battle is loneliness. As he says when we visit, "Everywhere I look, I see her." My stepmother, Margaret, died a little over a year ago at the age of 93. They were married over fifty years, and much like Stumpy and me, they spent a great deal of time together. We made the decision to detour through Oregon before heading home, mostly to see Dad, but also because next Monday would have been Margaret's 94th birthday. Loss gets exacerbated sometimes. Speaking of emotions, I've been letting the memories of the past four months rumble around in my head. Tomorrow will be the penultimate post of our current adventures, and when I get home, I'll post for the final time until we venture out again. For now, I will say that the vast majority of our traveling days, although not as long as today, have been picture perfect for driving. We have been continually blessed with traveling mercies, and we pray we'll be granted one more leg to get home. In the meantime, we'll hang out with Dad for a couple of days. Tomorrow, we'll take Dad to Redmond to visit Margaret's grave, help him do a couple things around the house, and listen to a few repeated stories. Like I used to tell my students who were struggling with family issues, "You either have a relationship with your parents, or you want one." Even though my father was absent most of my life, I remain astounded at how impactful he is in my life, and even more amazing, how much I see of myself when I look at him. how much I hear myself when I listen to him, and maybe most amazing of all, how much of what I think comes from him. It's like Deja Vu All Over Again, and I suspect I'm not the only one. All I have to say about any of this is, "Life is good, especially today".

Eastern Oregon rocks and rolls through sage brush on its way to the mountains.

Each summit has a natural meadow.

Mountains have names, but I don't know them.

Evidence that snow visits the area.

We climbed and descended on smooth road all day. The crowds were sparse.

The downside of the grade opens into ranch country. Strong, independent folk live here.

Art shot of the day (Its bumper sticker read: "Don't blame me, I voted for the American").

The young folks who own this little coffee shop in John Day enjoy a more idealistic attitude.

George Forman panini maker or not, this sandwich was yummy.

The mountains turn into these craggy bluffs and canyons, which surround fairly large cattle ranches

It looks like the Earth just burped a few times back in the day.

We wiggled and waggled through forty mile an hour curves for quite a while.

This canyon wa carved out by the John Day River.

And then the terrain waffles into very beautiful valleys (Our camera can't capture the panorama).

Mt. Jefferson is just one in a string of volcanic peaks within our view.

A lathered, weathered, and still ready Fric and Frac safely nestled in Madras, OR.

Thursday, April 16, 2015

Adventure 261: The Oregon Trail/Vale, OR

Our Covered Wagon

A peaceful night was pleasantly (Almost) interrupted by the squawking of the glorious peacocks that roam the Hooley farm. It's mating season, so the plumes are spread, the bragging is constant, and the posturing resembles a presidential race. We left about ten-thirty after touring Sarah's new "small house" (Dot Cottage), watching the new woman in Gary's life perform (The Dynah Lift), and ogling over Andy's latest welding feat. We finally just had to leave, and we followed Gary's suggestion to take old highway thirty toward Ontario. We're now in a little town called Vale, which claims to be literally ON the Oregon Trail. The town has twenty-eight fabulous murals, each highlighting a different aspect of pioneer life. Since Judy and I are modern day pioneers, traveling as we do in our silver covered wagon pulled by at least three hundred horses, and we've embraced the vision of the early immigrants we feel a kinship toward these travelers. Before we left, I did manage to win all of the squawking peacocks in the morning game. Now that we've crossed the border, we'll be playing for all of the Granola Eaters in Oregon tomorrow. I'll stop babbling here to let the pictures speak, but as we wandered around the town of Vale, it was easy for us to remember that life is good, especially today.