Adventure 615: The Boardman Rush Addendum

What, no snow?

After our icy reception in the gray lady's  store, (Who knows her troubles?) we felt unwelcome in Shaniko, so when a weather window opened a few hours later we risked another push down the road. There were a few more icy moments, but none so scary as before, and then, by Providence, the road dried on our descent into Biggs Junction. From there it was smooth sailing to Boardman. We bought Vodka for the fresh water tank and antifreeze for the other holding tanks to mitigate the possibility of bursting  pipes in the trailer because it's till "freaking" freezing (Please, Judy, it's only a thousand miles to Lake Havasu! where it's 75 degrees). But you can just forget that, Timmy. So here we are tucked safely in the Boardman Marina RV Park, hoping to prevent the trailer breaking in the next two days before we can take it in to the shop for winterizing. I think it was Brando who moaned, "The Horror." But who cares. We just enjoyed a fabulous salmon chowder that Judy made, a game of crib that I won, and an incredible message we heard in a song played by a Northern California group called the Brother's Comatose. The song, Highway 120 East ,includes these lyrics: "...I traveled the spiral road to a place in my mind where i struggle with God and I'm talking with time, and feel that I can't do anything but wrong, and every choice I make is heavier than me ,and I can't remember my hopes and my dreams..."  Speaking of heavy choices, yesterday when Yamiche Alcindor asked President Trump if he accepted any responsibility for the dissolution of the CDC in 2018, he responded, "That's a nasty question."  Blah. Blah. It wasn't me. Tony, can you newer that question? We learned something about Trump, but then most of us knew it already. But who cares about that chump? I learned something about myself today when I was fishtailing on the icy roads of Highway 97. I didn't have time to point fingers, since I was concentrating on keeping my wheels not he road, but it did occur to me that my problems at that moment superseded the coronavirus. If we'd found ourselves upside down in the frozen tundra, we may not have cared about social distancing, we may not have cared about the next election, and maybe we wouldn't have concerned ourselves with anything but our own problems. So my question is, how will we react in the face of distress. Will we throw flames of deceit and distraction like our President, or will we engage our better angels to consider the plight of others. I can't say, but I can say this: I was concentrating on the road in front of me. To that end, maybe I'm no better than those I condemn. Just saying. Fortunately, none of that matters because we're here safe and sound, ready to point our wheels ever north ever thankful that life is good, especially today.

 The new view from our living room.

 My Bunny, who soon frowned in defeat, is smiling here because she served our new favorite salmon chowder.