Adventure 659: Heyburn State Park X 6

Dead Horse State Park outside of Moab has dibs on our all time favorite campground. Heyburn State Park is number two. The plethora of mixed pines and the rustic feel of the place embrace a peacefulness that's pretty close to the Hallmark card for camping in America. The best part of the place is that it's an hour from our home, which made it easy to arrive yesterday at one, lounge away the day reading, resting, and stoking the fire. It rained  over night, but we met the morning peeking a few sun rays through the trees. We had breakfast, a quick game of crib. I'm $2.21 ahead with five days remaining in the Month-or payday as it's known. Paying up means we go to the coffee shop for a scone where one of us pulls the credit card out and the one's lost that month considers the debt paid. It's all good. We rode fifty miles today on the trail with a break for lunch in Harrison. The local grocery store also sells a bit of food. They make fabulous cold sandwiches, We shared a pastrami, pepper jack on pumpernickel flush with all the trimmings. Not to be out done, (Our meals compete with each other for favorite status) we'll bbq some T-Bones tonight fo dinner along with asparagus and zucchini. Salad on the side. We'll scoot home tomorrow, knowing that life is good.

Diet Pepsi, a smash mouth sandwich, and nacho cheese Doritos. Truly the good life.

The cribbage battlefield. If you can imagine it, The Cager said yesterday the she's was going to start cheating.

Frac doesn't get enough love. Come in for a look.

Sleek entry, No?

Nice rear.

Tall enough for a man to stand in the "One Butt" kitchen.

We take turns.

While much smaller than our bed at home, we seem to thrive in the closer proximity.

And of course,, the kitchen is fully equipped, highlighted by the custom made cutting board my  buddy, Dave Ulmen made. It's just one of the many places I keep him around.

 

Adventure 658: Nostalgia Trip/Seattle Westin

There have been a few birthdays in my life that have claimed to be "auspicious". Some are true for everyone, as they form a portion of the social fabric of our "growing up". At sixteen comes the driver's license; at eighteen comes the right to vote (and serve militarily); at twenty-one comes the license to drink; at thirty used to come the hill to be over (I don't know where that went.); at forty come the black balloons; at fifty come the memories of what used to be; somewhere around sixty comes retirement; and today, at seventy, comes what seems to be a time check, as in how much more time do I get. At seventy, I feel glad that fortune has bestowed on me a pretty long life, especially since I'm healthy and able to do pretty much as I please. I've had to replace a few of my body parts over the years, and there's no longer any chance, even with good training, that I will run the hundred meter dash, and most certainly, any memory I have of dunking a basketball is long past. But seventy finds me in a good place. My Bunny and I are doing well. Our kids and grand kids are doing well. We have very few complaints. For this we're grateful. On a surreal note, I've always been baffled by the vagaries of fate, but at the same time I'm grateful that my guardian angel has cared for me and about me for this long. 

The Westin Towers.

Judy and I made our first trip together to Seattle for my birthday in May of 1989. We stayed at the Westin in room 2031 (Judy remembers). The weather was postcard perfect, as it is this weekend. Our view overlooks the Puget Sound where ferry boats scoot back and forth, where large freighters lay at anchor, where sailboats tip against the sunlight, and where the ripples of current can be seen as trails in the water. Thirty years ago, the view from the Westin was unencumbered. Today, three large condo buildings block part of the view. No matter, at forty floors up, the view still commands much of the water, and of course, at times like this, the Olympics rise out of the Western sea like hope for the future. 

BBQ Pork Hom Bow.

We did our normal thing: a walk through the market, a stop for a steamed pork Hot Bow, a trip to the Italian market for Vermont cheddar cheese, nutty Manchego cheese made by nuns,  slices of salami, serrano ham, soppresseta, a baguette, a large dollop of pate, a very nice bottle of Borolo, and a sweet treat for dessert.  Later, we returned to the room to enjoy our little picnic, each other, and the view, thankful that we're allowed these small pleasures.

So as for the seventieth, it's as auspicious as any other day since I believe it's all the same day, and that makes life good, especially today.

Coffe, pastry, cheese, and a view. Good morning sunshine.

Last night's nosh.

Adventure 657: Wallace RV Park/City Limits Brew Pub

Our third spring outing, this time a short, eighty-eight mile overnight jaunt from Spokane to Wallace, Idaho. We arrived without incident a little after noon, got Frac all settled in to site # 1. We then rode the Trail of the Coeur d' Alenes to Mullan, Idaho and back (@ 16 miles). We pressed through a mountain squall on the way back. The squall swirled the wind and dropped enough rain on us to give us a chill. We simply put the hammer down on our electric bikes and rooster tailed it back to the trailer. Judy took a hot shower, and afterwards, we took a walking tour of downtown Wallace. We enjoyed a fine pub style dinner after that at the City Limits. I enjoyed a nice porter with my burger and Judy guzzled a blond ale with her roast turkey sandwich. I did skunk her during dinner to take a one game lead in the Wallace open. Tomorrow we plan to ride the trail to Enaville and back, which will be somewhere around thirty-five miles. The weather tomorrow is supposed to be warmer, but at this elevation, who knows. At any rate, we're snuggled in next to a babbling brook. All seems quiet, and for sure, life is good, especially today.

This week is sort of a nostalgia tour for us. Judy and I explored the Cataldo Mission on our first date back in 1989. Friday, we'll head to Seattle to celebrate my 70th. We'll stay at the Westin Hotel, room 2031, where we spent our first weekend together thirty some years ago.

The City Limits offers excellent beer and good food. Worth a stop any time you're close.

Selfie of the day: Pre-squall grins.

Eight public stairways climb the hillside in Wallace.

Ride first, eat later.

This building, the phone company building, is one of many that are preserved by the historical register.

The summit of Fourth of July pass.

The old train station in Wallace, another of the historical buildings in town.

If a person were to scale all of the public stairways, it would be equivalent to climbing a 46 story building. 

This stoplight used to be Wallace's claim to fame, being the only stoplight on I-90. When the freeway bypass was completed in 1971, the town held a grand funeral complete with a horse drawn hearse and bagpipes. I'm sure mixed feelings still surround the issue. Regardless, the town itself is a mere shadow of its former self. Nonetheless, a resurgence of sorts has occurred in summer due to the popularity of the Hiawatha Rail Trail, so Wallace manages to hang on, history intact.