Adventure 523: Another Blessed Priest Lake Visit

All paths lead to the lake.

As a preparation for our family visit in July, we took Frac up to Noraville. It served a couple other functions as well. First, it's a little respite for our friend, Liz, after the memorial for her late husband, which was held as a garden party on his birthday. About two hundred people showed up to celebrate; the event was wildly successful. Secondly, it's giving Liz not only a chance to enjoy the lake, but it's also been a chance for her to get to "know" her new camper van, the "Liz Mobile". We've enjoyed three days up here, and if not for other commitments, we'd stay longer. In the middle, Judy and I made a quick trip to Spokane to enjoy a Father's Day barbecue with George at the Vet's home. It was typically American fare: burgers, dogs, potato salad, chips, baked beans, lemonade, and cookies. Yum. We suffered through some thin gruel here at the lake as well, and thanks to the generosity of my cousin Douglas, we can utter these few words, "Life is good, especially today".

 Frac living large in North Idaho.

 The view from the bedroom window.

 The Liz Mobile.

 Good parking spot.

 George enjoying the Father's Day BBQ.

 Liz and Judy relaxing.

 Judy tearing the ginger flower petals.

A little of Dave's ashes and the torn petals from the lei.

 Enjoy the lake once again, Davey Boy.

 We wish you were here.

Adventure 522: The Tale of the Tape

Good morning, good bye, Challis

We traveled just under 2900 miles to rescue Frac from a life of degradation in the city of sin. While the weather was marginal, we enjoyed a fine trip. Amazingly, not two days in to the rescue, I was sleeping like a baby. Memorable events aside from good rest was the splendor of the Valley of Fire and the splash through the heavy rain in the Salt Lake Corridor. We traveled in heavy traffic through construction and dark skies from the turnoff to Park City all the way past Ogden. In my rookie years, I'd have been more nervous than a cat on hot tin roof, but now I'm dangerously overconfident in my abilities. What I've learned about pulling a travel trailer: No sudden moves; stay in my lane; anticipate; keep a steady watch on the mirrors; relax into the trust of traveling mercies. After all, it's merely an illusion that I'm in control of anything. Drats! I hate that part. We made the round trip in just under two weeks. We're refreshed, but both Judy and I are unpleasantly surprised at how stressed we feel now that we're home. Judy is behind in the garden. I've returned to fitful sleep. So it goes. Judy will dig until satisfied, and I will continue to work on Davey Boy. Life is good for us, especially today.

But it begs the question: What do we owe, and to whom? We were listening to a pod cast on the road. The theme was injustice and the program was narrated by an incredibly articulate set of African Americans. I remember most the discussion concerning tacit racism that people of my ilk persist in promoting despite our claim that we're not racist, not prejudice, and that our liberal sensibilities are offended at the suggestion. Yet, we have no friend of color. We live in sanitized areas. We live untested lives. I know I do. I live in an area where most everyone looks like me. And I have to tell you, through no fault or credit of mine, I'm one of those retired white males currently sitting in the catbird seat. The question that struck me the most was this: What are the white liberals willing to sacrifice to increase equality in this country? My short answer, not much. Some charity donations, a little community service, but nothing really that would affect my own comfortable standing. I should feel guilty, but I don't. I feel I've done much to earn my position, although I'll certainly defer to good fortune, grace, luck, or the quiji board. I take care of my own, and I enjoy life. But there is no question that people in my position are part of the problem, part of the culture, part of the conundrum. It deserves thought. If any of you who look a little like me have any suggestions, I'm all ears.

In the meantime, I'll accept the grace that comes.

 I've dedicated a personal improvement project to my late friend, Davey Boy.

 Wildly successful! Fresh water flowing.

 And now a working galley. Leaky windows next!!