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| Ribbons Ever Run. |
Back on the road again as Willie Nelson sings. We sang our way through the Palouse and down the steep grade at Lewiston, smothered in fog like a couple of ham slabs under red eyed gravy. We followed the Snake River to Asotin, WA, where we climbed like billy goats to the plateau which led us south and east for awhile until we lowered ourselves down a ribbon road that resembled multi-colored hard candy found in bowls at Christmas. A few hours later, we entered the never-never land of the Joseph Valley. We're camped at the inlet of Wallowa Lake, and while the weather is crisp, the area breathes clean air, honest folk, and awe inspiring panoramas. We're happy to get the chance to breathe again. After setting up camp, we rode thirteen miles to town and back, had a coffee and apiece of chocolate, and otherwise enjoyed small town ambience. We're a little past tourist season, so the place is inhabited mostly by locals. It's eerily quiet. Most people are readying themselves for winter. As for me, I'm trying to find new ways to love my bunny, enhance my circumstance, relish my good fortune, and like always, believe that life is good, especially today.
Way back down this crevice is the Grand Mound River.
In the distance, Joseph beckons.
Hard to believe we came from that far plateau.
Art shot of the day.
Selfie of the day: Wallowa Lake in the distance.
Judy and a few last roses she snipped from her garden.
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