Swiss Family Grass

We drove for nearly ten hours, so that we could bang out much of the distance between Vancouver and Banff National Park. We spent the night at a rest stop in Revelstoke. Dinner was an absolutely awful meal at a ‘frontier themed’ eatery. For the first time, the Rough Guide travel book was totally off the mark.
Early the next morning we drove the short distance to Lake Louise and checked into the campground. We were stunned to find out at the gate that the entire perimeter of the campground has been enclosed with an electric fence. We’re told that the fence is to keep us safe inside, and the bears (both grizzly and black) safe outside. For me the fence
provided a source of anxiety, as I was constantly aware of where the dog was in proximity to the fence. The mosquitoes here are mammoth, and we spent the better part of the day constantly moving to not become their target. The evening brought rain, and our attention turned to the second leak found in our van. Andy now threatens to sell the van while we are overseas. I, on the other hand have begun to chalk each little trip hiccup up to my uncanny ability to attract bad luck.

Though the rain continued the next day, Petey and I hiked to Lake Louise, and I was struck by the bright, stark beauty of the lake. While Lake Louise is a total tourist trap, complete with a Fairmont Hotel built literally a stones throw from the lake, the lake is a blinding reminder of the glacial blue hue achieved when glaciers grind mountains into rock flour and melting snow brings the silt into contact with the lake. The color reminds me of the one time I was in Interlaken Switzerland and stood in awe admiring the river that runs through the town. While at the lake, the sun peaked through for only a moment. But, that moment was long enough to watch the lake change from deep turquoise to cobalt blue.

Often a distraction from sightseeing, people-watching consumes a portion of my visit to any landmark. I enjoy watching Japanese tourists as they marvel at the sight before them and take endless amounts of pictures. I hear the familiar sounds of German as middle-aged men and their wives bike by, and I watch children play and sing songs in French while their parents sit on a bench, happy to have a moment to themselves. We are finding that there are many Europeans on holiday in Canada, and Andy and I have attempted, with no luck, to try to open a dialogue with a select few. We met two Swiss people in Vancouver at the campground, and they looked at us with confused gazes when we asked them about their travels. I had already been complaining about the lack of traveler’s ability to be civil to each other. Glances are exchanged without acknowledgement of existence, and I begin to question if the entire globe has become groupings of people content with staying in their own social box. Andy chalks it up to the culture, saying that many Swiss and Germans are naturally anti-social. I don’t accept that, and quite frankly I feel that the only understandable excuse would be a language barrier. We’re all human, and one mark of civility is the ability to force out a “hello” or “good morning”, even when it’s not convenient or comfortable. Another theory Andy has it that people go camping to ‘get away’ from everything and everyone. Okay, I’ll accept that argument. Then those people shouldn’t be camping in an electric enclosed fence campground five feet from our van door.
That said, Andy made another attempt to socialize with another group he identified as Swiss by the flag hanging from their car antenna. He returned to the campsite disgusted and said that of the four in the group, three looked at him like he was a martian. I tried to make him feel better with the ‘language barrier’ excuse, but we both know it’s just a difference in learned social cues. Andy later redeemed himself when he finally met a Swiss person, as we were preparing to leave the campground that was both civil and social. Andy noticed a Swiss license plate on the vehicle of a van parked in a campsite and approached their site. He enjoyed interesting conversation. But, the man whom he had hoped had broken the curse of the unfriendly ‘Swiss’ camper rule wasn’t actually Swiss. He wasn’t Swiss, his wife wasn’t Swiss (she is Canadian), but his wife’s parents are Swiss. As it turns out, he’s Egyptian. Go figure…

From Lake Louise we drove to Banff, a Vail like town that reeks of tourism. I don’t mean to sound jaded, but I have a few thoughts on the word tourism. The definition of tourism involves sightseeing, visiting attractions, and going to places of interest. When did that definition of tourism come to involve shopping as the main attraction? Okay, so we are on a fixed income, and maybe I’m paying more attention now to the actual ‘sights’ instead of browsing windows for trinkets that will evoke memories of travel. I admit it, in the past I have been guilty of indulging in shopping while traveling a few times in my day, but watching tourists hoof through town carrying bags and bags of crap (my personal opinion of course) is beginning to make me think that somewhere in tourism the sightseeing has become lost. When you are in the middle of the Canadian Rockies, the awesome magnitude of the geography laid out before you should be the main attraction, not finding just the right Banff t-shirt. So we explored on foot and got as far away from the town as we could, with the exception of the film we caught at the local cinema.

I was further turned off by Banff when I got into a verbal exchange, or should I say ‘confrontation’ with some jerk at the laundromat. Normally, I wouldn’t bother relating the conversation to you, but I was so dumbfounded by the interaction I had with the guy, that I just have to write it down.

First, I noticed this man (let’s call him the Jerk), sitting with his four teenage kids near where we put in our loads for washing. The laundromat was very small, and anyone suffering from claustrophobia would not have lasted more than a few seconds in this basement establishment. He was talking about being ‘subhuman’. Andy claims he was commenting on an article caption that the man’s son was reading from a local paper. I think he was referring to being cooped up in the laundromat. Either way, you could tell right off the bat that he was irritable, yet he exhibited signs of intelligence through his banter with his kids. So during my time, and I do mean time…like prison time, down there washing two weeks worth of clothes, I went to put our clothing in the one free dryer in the whole place. The Jerk’s son was standing in front of the dryer, and I asked if it was free. He said yes, and then his Dad made some comment about how he was trying to keep all their loads together. I responded by saying that if he needed the dryer he could have it. He then made some joke, that for the life of me I cannot remember. I think it had something to do with guarding machines in places like this, and I shot back with a joking, “You must be an American”. He looked at me with a look of confusion. I qualified my statement by saying that I was an American and remember many scuffles over ‘saved’ machines in laudromats back home. Now, I admit that I may have been a little rude throwing my two cents in (jokingly mind you), but he had set the stage with his comment said with a dry wit that I have come to know and love in my short 34 years. So I said again, “Are you from the states?” He didn’t respond. I asked, “Are you American?” Still nothing. The eyes of his four children (who looked like they ranged in age from 15-21) darted between us like they were watching a ping pong match. Finally, when I asked a last time, “Are you from the United States?” he responded with, “I’m from Seattle.” The last time I checked, Seattle was a part of the United States. A simple yes would have done the job.

I thought it was so bizarre that he would not acknowledge his nationality. Maybe I’m overreacting. But to me, one usually doesn’t stumble at the “where are you from” question. In fact, I can usually pick Americans out of a crowd. They are often the ones wearing a red, white, and blue, flag t-shirt, or an “Official Bikini Inspector” baseball cap. I’m not trying to stereotype, but let’s be clear. Americans can usually be pegged by our lack of ability to just ‘blend in’.

So, the Jerk avoided me like the plague for the rest of the time we were stuck together in that subterranean wash and spin joint. I did however keep an eye on him, watching as he hogged (and hid) the only cart in the place, barked at his kids to guard their dryers and his video camera, and put out a general negative vibe to anyone unlucky to come into contact with him.

We stocked up on supplies and left Banff on Wednesday. We’re now in Calgary. Or, I should say I’m in Calgary. Andy left this morning for his friend Andy Smith’s wedding back in the states. Yesterday we did some sightseeing in City Centre. The much written about Eau Claire Market is a total letdown. Just think Emervyille Marketplace ‘light’. Half of the retail spaces are empty, and the sound of a cheesy aerobic mambo dance instructor (teaching a class on the first level) echoes through the entire market.

Chinatown is limited to a four small city blocks, with its claim to fame being that the area was actually saved from redevelopment. A park honoring the fact that somebody did something right and didn’t remove the little culture evident in the downtown area is lovely to stroll through. And, Prince Island Park offers an oasis in an otherwise boring landscape of mirrored buildings and downtown business districts with little character.

I finally got to catch up on some reading today, and watched with interest as dark ominous clouds moved in. The park where I am staying is in a farming area, bordered by the ever present construction of urban sprawl. Less than a mile away, cookie cutter homes are going up by the thousands. But here, there are fields and horses and the smell of freshly cut grass. Not unlike the Great Plains, one can watch as a storm moves in. Thunder clapped loudly throughout the sky, and I sat watching as the sky changed shape. It was strangely peaceful to sit in my chair and look above at the chaos of dark grey plump clouds as they pushed into each other. For the first time in a long time I was content. No chatter filled my head, and I wasn’t consumed with planning the next 23 months of our trip. Instead, I just sat and watched, in awe of nature’s beauty.

Bright, jagged bolts of lighting struck down with quickness, and when the rain finally came, it was only for a moment. The rain drops were huge, splattering when they made contact. The thunder lasted for over an hour, a sign that a storm travels slowly in these parts. A few more bolts of lightning, and I was happy to retreat to the van to watch a DVD.

So now, here I am listening to Cesaria Evora and typing away as I reflect on the trips most recent events. I hope I haven’t bored you…

I started the day with a walk along the greenbelt located just outside our campground. Actually, we are staying in a suburban RV park that is loaded with Europeans. Today we met a young Swiss couple traveling in a Pleasure-Way van also, though the RV they are driving is much larger. We went for Dim Sum just before noon. The Pink Pearl was highly recommended, so we gave it a try. The food was good, but doesn’t compare to Fook Yuen in Millbrae. From the restaurant we drove to Stanley Park and biked the entire perimeter of the park, stopping to catch some rays at the beach. The park is quite fabulous, and I think anyone moving to Vancouver should make it a point to live within walking distance of the glorious green oasis in the middle of beautiful, bustling Vancouver.

As promised Pascha, here are a few pictures of Boo in his bike trailer.

On Dad’s recommendation we traveled across the Burrard Bridge to Kitsilano. Definitely a suburb worth exploring. Next, we were off to Stephos for excellent Greek food. A short glimpse of cyclists in the Tour De Gastown, and we were headed back to the RV Park. We rounded out the evening by looking like a couple of hillbillies, as I shaved Andy’s head at our site.

Tomorrow we will continue on the Trans Canada Highway eastbound. We plan to purchase a National Parks pass and see as many points of interest between Vancouver and Calgary as possible.

The trip from Seattle to the Canadian border didn’t take but a few hours. The line of cars at the border snaked along the road for a mile or so. We were optimistic that we would make a speedy crossing. We were mistaken. After Andy began fumbling for the words to answer the question “Where are you headed?” asked by the station agent, I knew it was downhill. A few more misguided answers and we were flagged for customs and told to pull over and enter the immigration office.

There are two things to remember when speaking with a law enforcement agent. One, answer only the questions asked. Two, never let them separate you from your party. Well, needless to say we broke both of the rules. As the customs agent sent Andy to the van to retrieve our passports, she grilled me. The agent asked about fifty questions; Where are you from? Where are you going? How much cash do you have with you? How much cash do you have access to? What personal possessions do you have with you? Are you visiting anyone here in Canada? Do you have family in Canada? The questions went on and on and on. When Andy returned (after what seemed an eternity), she asked him a few of the same questions she’d asked me). I’m sure I had a look on my face that said, ‘Don’t screw this up’. After a few of the questions, he began to look to me for answers, and I was happy to jump in. We were told to take a seat, and someone would call for us shortly. A few minutes later the customs agent called us up and asked if we knew where the Visitors Center was. We responded by saying no, and she said, “Once you cross the border, it will be off the road on your right. Enjoy your stay.”

The more I reflect on the experience we had at the border, the more I have come to believe we were ‘profiled’. A few of the cars pulled over and being searched entering the United States (which you can see across the road divider as you approach the Canadian border), were be driven by men with turbans. A man waiting in the Immigration office on the U.S. side wore a Muslim cap. The others were all young, couples, or groups of friends who appeared to lead an ‘alternative’ lifestyle; punk rockers, tattooed individuals, and what would generally pass for the youth of today. It was then that it dawned on me, Andy with his shaven head (shaved for ease of upkeep) and dark cloaking sunglasses might have appeared rather conspicuous. Oh, and I forgot to mention…he was wearing a ‘John Kerry’ for President t-shirt. Maybe they thought we were seeking political asylum.

Once cleared for entry, we drove straight to Tsawwassen and caught the 5:00 p.m. ferry to Victoria. The weather was absolutely beautiful, and we went on deck to look watch the landscape change as we weaved through the islands. We drove through Victoria after leaving the port, and then headed to Goldstream Provincial Campground (Provincial campgrounds are similar to our State parks). The surroundings are beautiful, with mossy covered trees, a river crawling slowly through the park, and weather warm enough to sit in the shade and relax.

On Sunday we explored Victoria, walking the port, touring the Empress hotel, admiring the works of local craftsmen at a street faire on the outskirts of Chinatown, and taking in the exhibits at the Royal BC Museum. After a stop at the grocery store, we were headed back to camp where we cooked fillet of sole accompanied by potatoes, green salad, and a bottle of Claret wine.

We woke up planning to leave and drive up to the Sunshine coast, but we both thought an extra day to relax in the surroundings of the park seemed ideal. Tomorrow we’ll drive to Nanaimo and Qualicum Beach, and maybe camp one night along the coast. Then, we’ll take the ferry back to the mainland (via Horseshoe Bay) and begin to navigate the sprawling city of Vancouver.

We hiked to Goldstream Falls and planned out the next 10 days of our trip. Andy leaves for San Francisco from Calgary on the 27th, so we pulled out the map to see how much territory we could cover before his flight. We’re hoping to drive to Prince George on the mainland to see the northern lights.

Tuesday we took a road trip to the Sunshine Coast of Vancouver Island, and now we are on the ferry heading to Vancouver for a few days of exploring. We’re looking forward to some good Dim Sum. Until the next update…

Friday morning brought us into Seattle. The drive from Tacoma to Seattle is your pretty standard highway with gridlocked traffic, with one exception. Suddenly something out of the corner of your eye catches your attention. When you turn to look out the window you see an amazing sight…Mount Rainier. We’ve seen many peaks during our short traveling time, but this is probably one of the most dramatic. Mount Rainier is so striking because it appears as if the mountain just dropped out of the sky into a major metropolitan area. At 14, 410 feet, it’s the highest peak in Washington. As the highway continues northbound glimpses of the mountain can be seen, and one can’t help but think that we are truly a young nation. The coastline and craters and volcanoes we’ve seen during our trip have all been here for as long as time has let us record, and we simply build near these landscapes because of their beauty. Their form and presence draws your attention and holds your gaze. But we must remember that our time here has been but a speck of sand in an hourglass. These landmarks may appear to be here for our personal enjoyment, but they are actually markers of an ever-changing earth. Mount Rainier is an active volcano, and like its neighbor Mount St. Helens has the ability to forever change the landscape through an eruption. Just food for thought…

So, we spent most of Friday hanging out at Aaron’s apartment. He has a great place, a wonderful apartment with a deck surrounded by lush foliage. Two french doors lead out to the patio, and it’s quite pleasant to sit outside. He lives about two blocks from Lake Washington. Andy and Aaron played several games of dominoes, and Petey and I relaxed. Here are a few pictures of Andy and Aaron…

Andy on the phone managing our stock portfolio…just kiddding! He’s actually on the phone with Jeff chatting about the new development….and by development I mean the newest addition to the Druck family…Cooper Steven Druck.

Playing Dominoes

We went to dinner with two of Aaron’s good friends. We ate at a local Ethiopian restaurant. We were the only diners in the restaurant, and when we told our waiter about our lack of knowledge as it relates to Ethiopian food, he was happy to guide our gastronomical journey. The chef put together a huge platter, probably 2 and a half feet in diameter, filled with a combination of most of the dishes offered on the menu. The food looked fabulous, a palette of greens, yellows, deep auburn hues, and full of texture. I’m still kicking myself for not bringing my camera. Honestly, it was the most beautiful presentation of food I have ever seen. You eat with your hands, wrapping the foods in sponge like bread made from a grain that only grows in Ethiopia. We drank wine from paper cups (as the restaurant has yet to get a liquor license), and dined as if the restaurant had opened for our eating pleasure. We had the place to ourselves the whole time. What a great experience.

This morning Aaron and I walked down to the lake with Petey. The homes in his neighborhood are beautiful, a combination of craftsmen and architectural marvels. Petey is now taking a nap as I update the webpage.

Andy is out getting an oil change on the van, and we plan to leave this afternoon for Canada. We should be in Vancouver by nightfall. We’re looking forward to taking the ferry to Victoria Island sometime in the next couple of days. Until the next entry…

After we left Bend, we headed back toward the Oregon Coast. We stayed the night at a County park along the Kilches River and woke up Thursday morning and drove to the Tillamook factory. The self guided tour is quite interesting and we finished the visit by sampling several of the cheeses made by the company. We also sampled Tillamook ice cream…peanut butter chocolate was the flavor of choice.

From Tillamook we continued up the coast to the Oregon – Washington border where we crossed the Astoria Bridge and took a break for lunch just over the Washington border. The scenery changes somewhat when you cross into Washington. Gone are the totally lushly lined highways, replaced with byway that weaves next to the Columbia River. Farmland and small towns dot the landscape.

Andy has had a few rough days. Seems the road is giving him a beating. First, a bee flew into his mouth while driving yesterday. Petey and I both jumped when he began choking as he drove and then spit a huge bee toward us in the passenger seat. This evening, his allergies were bothering him, and after putting eye drops into his eyes, he began writhing in pain. Turns out he put ear drops in his eyes. Now as I type this travel journal entry, Andy is playing a game of cat and mouse with the mosquitoes that have flown into our van while we had the doors open during an evening barbecue. Oh, and the word mouse reminds me…Petey was chasing a field mouse that was hiding under the van this evening. Now Andy says he is back, and he’s concerned that the mouse may get in tonight. You probably have visions of us staying in some beautiful pasture where the sun sets with amazing color on the horizon, right? Nope, we’re at a Wal-Mart tonight. Andy gets a real kick out of staying for free in their parking lot. Honestly, I never thought I’d see the day when I would ‘camp’ in the parking lot of a corporate wasteland. Actually, it’s not so bad. People are social, and many come by to ask about our ‘rig’. There seems to be a culture associated with this style of camping, and I’m quickly learning that politics probably shouldn’t be the conversation of choice. I stick with comments about high gas prices, that seems to be safe territory. But I digress…

We visited Mount St. Helens today, an awesome sight. It’s an interesting feeling to be faced with the earth’s destruction. With so many miles behind us now, to pull up to a mountain that can literally end the life roaming free before it seems mind boggling. In a strange way, it was beautiful. Not beautiful in the usual sense of the word, but beautiful as in the awe you express when you see a baby being born for the first time, or a sunset that makes the suns appear to be sliding off the earth.

Tomorrow we will visit my cousin Aaron in Seattle. We plan to spend a day or so with him. Then, we will take the ferry to Victoria, and our multiple country escapades can truly begin. Catch up with you later…

Oh, and one last parting thought. Hey Sisters… Are you still interested in a starting a portuguese cafe? Bend already has one. Cafe Sintra, named after the beautiful castle laden city just off the portuguese coast. Don’t believe me that in Bend, Oregon somebody took the same idea we had and ran with it? Proof is below…

The photo above is of a second location opened recently in the hip downtown area.

http://www.cafesintra.com/index.htm

On Saturday, July Andy and I continued our drive along the Oregon Scenic Byway and headed to my Godfather Dick Calafato’s home in Roseburg, Oregon. About 11 miles from his property, we turned onto a road that winded along the river. When we reached the gate to his place, we punched in the code and the gate opened exposing a long driveway. We followed the driveway past a half dozen beautiful horses and stables to the main house. As our car approached the house, dogs began barking, and one in particular (a sheep herding dog we would later come to know as ‘Lucy Lui’) announced our arrival.

Dick came out of the house and approached the van. I hopped out of the van and Dick came toward me, extended his arms and gave me the strongest hug I have ever felt in my life. He had tears streaming down his face and told me how wonderful it was that we were here. With a welcome like that, our visit was sure to be filled with lots of emotion.

Once we stepped into Dick and Kit’s (his wife) home, Dick showed us to the kitchen table where we sat for the next five hours without a pause listening to stories of old memories and new. The kitchen windows have a most amazing view of the river, and I found myself distracted by the beauty of the outdoors. Andy looked mesmerized, and I was reminded of my childhood. I remembered that Dick was a storyteller, who commanded and audience, but I had yet to experience this as an adult. I enjoyed watching Andy’s expressions of disbelief as the stories progressed from Dick’s childhood to when he met my father at the cannery.

We went to dinner at a local Italian restaurant named Dino’s and were greeted by the owner who gave us his table and spoke with Dick in Italian during visits to our table while dining. The food was excellent; Andy and I both ordered a gnocchi covered with marinara sauce, spicy Italian sausage and spinach. Good food, good wine, and even better conversation completed the evening.

When we returned to the ranch, Dick showed us to our quarters, an in-law unit just off the main house, and Andy and I spoke in the dark about what a wild experience the day had been. Andy said that we should have videotaped the day, that the experience had been like reading a book about someone’s life. What neither of us realized as we drifted off to sleep was that the next morning would bring with it a repeat of the days events.

On day two, we walked to the main house for breakfast around 10:00, and sat listening to Dick’s stories from breakfast through lunch. We didn’t rise from the table for a break until after 4:00 p.m., when we took a walk to the stables to help Kit unload feed for the horses from her car. The horses they are raising are called ‘saddlebred’, and some have bright blue eyes, quite striking if you’ve never seen one before. The blue is saturated like a glacier, at the same time light like the blue of a cloudless sky.

Next Kit convinced us to join her at her “Leadsinger” karaoke machine, and the four of us took turns singing songs. Yes, that’s right…we sang to eachother all afternoon until we ate dinner at 8:30 that night. Then we sat with Dick as he continued his stories, and before we knew it the clock passed midnight.
I’d share Dick’s stories here, but it wouldn’t be quite the same. Throughout the two days, we did a lot of laughing, crying, and discussing the state of the world today. From politics to religion, the conversations overlapped and we grew to new a man who has a love of life and appreciation for all the world has taught him. Past experiences have taught him to face challenges head on, and his resiliency has provided the key to his success. He is an interesting man, a man who enjoys people, has the gift of gab, and doesn’t miss a beat. Dick’s sharp as a tack, and Andy and I took away with us wonderful experiences that will forever be imprinted in our memories.

Finally, Dick has suggested that my sisters and I consider opening a Jewish deli in Roseburg, as there isn’t a decent Jewish deli for a few hundred miles. His business proposition put forward a full proof plan,and it’s obvious he’s been thinking of the idea for quite some time. Andy thinks Dick has the midas touch, so we both left intrigued.

We were on the road again Monday and drove through the most beautiful stretch of highway I have ever been on. Lush ferns, green pines, and rolling rivers guided our drive from South Oregon to the Central Oregon. At one point we climbed a peak near Three Sisters mountain range and were dumbstruck when the top exposed Belknap Crater. It looked as if a huge bomb had exploded. The crater is practically devoid of nature, and the few trees and plants that remain are washed out in color.

We began our descent and by afternoon we were in Bend. Andy’s friend Greg has purchased a home there and we have been staying with him for the past two nights.

Of course, no trip of ours would be complete without a trip to the emergency room. About four days ago my foot began to send shooting pains up my leg and turned a bright red. The redness spread, so we made a visit to St. Charles hospital where I was prescribed a 10 day course of antibiotics for a serious infection. Now on medication, I was ready to do some exploring.

Morning walks are a combination of trails lining the gorge where the Deschutes River flows, and listening to the sounds of construction as hundreds (literally hundreds) of homes are built in the development. It’s a real boom town feel here and construction trucks line every inch of pavement. Many Californians have sought refuge here. The homes are large, new, and well appointed. And the prices, along with dreams of a better life are the draw. The downtown area has many quaint restaurants and at any given point in town you can look at the river and see people in inner tubes enjoy the lazy days of summer.

We leave today to head back to the coast. We plan to spend a few days coastside before heading to Seattle to visit my cousin Aaron. I’ll report back in a few days…

That’s right, we really did it! On July 2nd Andy and I hit the highway for a two year roadtrip that will span two continents and too many countries to name here. We’ve decided to spend the summer exploring western states and head north to Canada in mid July.

We began our trip with a wine tasting stop on the way to Mendocino. We purchased a bottle of Meyer port and ate lunch on the landscaped grounds. Next, we went to Mendocino where we camped for one night. The next morning I took Petey for a walk to the beach and the main street in town. We had the beach to ourselves, and a few seals played hide-n-seek with us. Petey was able to roam the beach leash free, and he of course took advanatge of the lead free time to roll in some dead stuff.

From Mendocino we headed up the coast, stopping near sunset to cook pasta at Clam beach. The beaches along the coast are all quite dog friendly, so Petey and I spent the time leading up to sunset strolling the beach and then we were off to Crescent City.

On July 4th we woke up early and headed to the annual July 4th parade held near one of the historic neighborhoods of Crescent City. We lined the street like the locals, and sat in lawn chairs through the 2 hour parade. Below are a few choice pictures…

From Crescent City we were off to Oregon. We found a beautiful state park in the Rogue River Valley and enjoyed the location so much that we stayed for three nights. Petey didn’t enjoy the 4th of July too much. There was a large group of kids across the river from us who were launching fireworks all night. We gave Petey a tranquilizer, but that didn’t seem to calm him. Instead, he looked stoned and agitated. It was at the Rogue River Valley State Park that we had our maiden voyage in the bike trailer too. Petey was a pretty good sport as we rode into town with him in tow. Alice calls the bike trailer ‘Petey’s Limousine’. It takes a lot of treats to keep him cooperating. All in all, I did a lot of trail walking, lounging in the reclining camp chasise, reading, and cooking. It’s a good life!

After Rogue River we went to Crater Lake where we planned to camp, but the mosquitos chased us away. So, after spending the day exploring Crater Lake National Park, we headed to Diamond Lake. But first… a few pictures of the lake. It is a magnificent site. Crater Lake is the deepest lake in the United States and the 7th deepest in the world. It’s over 1900 ft deep, and the absoprtion of light leads to its’ deep blue color.

Diamond Lake has been the highlight of the trip for me so far. All of the State parks are pristine. The sites have beautiful views, too many trees to count, and walking and biking paths that are well designed and allow you to experience the lush Oregon foliage. Our campsite was right on the lake, with a view of the snow capped mountains. We took and ll mile bike ride around the lake with the dog, and returned to our campsite to lounge lakeside on our reclining chairs. Again…life is good!

We did have one minor traveling hiccup. A leak developed near the rear cargo doors, and while sleeping a large amount of water landed on me and my pillow in the middle of the night. It seems the silicone seal on the roof had shrunk, and water had been pooling for quite some time. Here’s a picture of how camp looks for us…

Well…that’s enough for today. We are staying with our friend Greg, and he has been kind enough to set up and host this website for us. It may take me a few days to catch up to where we are now, but for the time being I leave you with this teaser…
From Diamond Lake we headed to my Godfather Dick’s horse ranch in Roseburg, Oregon. I have many pictures and thoughts about that visit to share. Just give me a few days to collect them…