Captain’s and First Officer’s Logs 20-15-06-29

We are docked, locked, and loaded at Planet Butte, Galaxy Montana

First Officer: Ying versus Yang. Good versus Evil. Interstate 90 in Washington versus Interstate 90 in Idaho. The constant struggle between Good and Just and Miserable Crap. Idaho wins hands down. I wouldn’t give you two cents for Interstate 90 in Washington, but when you cross into Idaho miracles happen. The road smoothes out, the lanes get wider and even the scenery improves. The panhandle of Idaho is really pretty country.

Captain: It’s HOT! It’s HUMID! Since we left Port Townsend, we’ve encountered high temps in Seattle, Spokane and Butte, Montana. I want to go back to Bothell and Port Townsend for boats, cool breezes and balmy summer days. It was actually 104 degrees and humid in metro-Seattle where we stayed at the KOA in Kent before attending our friend’s wedding.

First Officer: We have started to establish a daily routine. We get up whenever we want to, the Captain usually before me, have a cup of tea, couple slices of toast, check emails, undock and launch from wherever we are. We cruise until we come to the first intergalactic rest area, pull in, fire up the generator and the Captain walks the puppies while the FO prepares breakfast, coffee, bacon and eggs, French toast or pancakes, whatever strikes our fancy. This beats the heck out of our Ali-the-Gator trailer routine which was get up, hit the road and stop at the first McD’s we came across.

Captain: Today we got in touch with friends Pam and Rick in Ennis, Montana to arrange dinner out with them on Tuesday evening, and then we began trying to find an empty spot in an RV park there. We got the absolute last campsite in this small town situated on the beautiful Madison River, because of a last-minute cancellation. I’m sure we’re up against families traveling for the July 4th holiday, so we’ve got to get our planning act together, or we’re probably in for Wall Mart parking-lot camping July 1st through the 5^th.

First Officer: It’s an interesting syndrome, the breakfasts we’re having on the road. We had all the capabilities in Ali-the-Gator that we have in the new coach:  three burner stove, refrigerator, microwave, running water and built-in generator. However, we seldom if ever cooked on the road with Ali-the-Gator. I think the difference is, it’s just so nice to have a full kitchen and living area plus dinette that make cooking-while-taking-breaks-on-the-road enjoyable. Frankly, the food’s much better too. 

Captain: We’ve decided that after a campground gets built, the town comes along and puts in a railroad track next to it. For the last two nights Frank has slept soundly as he usually does while I lay awake. Last night a train came through just outside the campground fence and blasted its warning whistle four times at the crossing.  Saturday night I listened to what sounded like a hundred motorcycles revving because of an outdoor movie with giant, fiery explosions being shown directly behind our rig until 11 pm. 

First Officer: I don’t miss anything at all about the state of Washington.  I love our kids and grandkids, but think having them fly to visit us in Phoenix would be less stressful on me than driving through the state of 12 hour rush-hours and the I-5 parking lot anymore.  Last Sunday I attended mass at Our Lady of Eternal Road Construction and the Madonna in the naïve was wearing a yellow hard hat.  That tells you something!

Captain: I, on the other hand really miss the blessed quiet of the forest campground at Fort Worden, not to mention the expansive views of Puget Sound!  Okay, whining aside, we’ve seen mountains, rivers, bridges, creeks, and picturesque little towns along our path since we left Washington.  All the sights along our route play out like some “cinemascope” movie through our huge RV front window. 

For example, the camping spot tonight has a magnificent view of tree-covered mountains, one of which has an imposing statue of Jesus on top that we can see from our front window. There’s also a stretch of a much-longer nature trail running just next to our campground along a meandering creek. So far, I haven’t run across any mandatory railroad tracks here.

First Officer: On one of our first trips in Ali-the-Gator, I blacked out the whole state of Oklahoma in our atlas because of the rotten condition of I-40 running through it. I’m real close to blacking out the whole state of Washington for similar reasons.

Captain: Since we’re on a mad dash across the U.S., we’ve been making notes in our atlas (so far, Frank hasn’t blacked out any states) about places we want to revisit in the future. Today we made note of what looked to be an historic little town called Wallace in Montana. 

First Officer: Cheryl makes notes in the atlas about sweet little towns to revisit, but I write notes about wretched roads, terrible traffic, decreasing radius curves and huge, white, creepy statues of Jesus on mountain tops. 

End Combined Log

First Officer’s Log: 20-15-06-28. Sunday

We are in the Spokane Galaxy, of the Washington Nebula having endured 325 light years of bumpy, long slow climbs up mountain passes, bumpy, long and much too fast descents from those mountain passes, and generally harsh, bumpy roads.  

We left Kent (basically Seattle) at 9:30 and arrived here at 4:30.  That’s seven hours but we can take out one and a half hours for stops at rest stops.  So five and a half hours of driving to go 325 miles is an average of about 60 mph.  The Starship likes any speed from about 55 to 65 mph.  On a really good road it will roll up to 70 without my noticing, but the real “Happy Window” is 60 to 65. 

The rig is a dream to drive.  It floats down the road and has plenty of power until the really steep mountain passes and then it downshifts pretty low in order to keep up a reasonable speed.  I’ve been told the bigger rigs with the diesel pusher engines take the steep parts better than the gas rigs, but the Starship does OK so we are pretty happy RV’ers.

Yesterday was fun.  We had extended our Seattle stay by a week just so we could attend the wedding of a dear young lady who we had the pleasure of watching grow from a 13 year old kid to a wonderful woman who never lost her sense of humor, her sense of wonder, her sense of adventure, or her smile that can, by itself light up an auditorium.  She married into a HUGE Irish family and I think most of them were there.  Her name is Trish, his is Brian. 

The wedding was small and was at his (now their) house.

The reception was huge and was at a local watering hole called “Pono’s”.  (No “r”). There was a lot of laughing, a lot of drinking (the rumors are true, them Irish can really toss ‘em back), lots of dancing to a live band, and lots of toasts.  

 

The most appreciated toast of the afternoon was the favorite toast of one of the family’s great Aunts.  I won’t quote it here because it has become a tradition for their family.  (However I may use it in the future at some poor unsuspecting soul’s wedding.)  As I said, I won’t quote it, but it does include references to “the wedding night, the kitchen table, legs, and drawers.”

The most memorable moment for me was when one of the groom’s brothers and a very young niece sang a duet of the song “Consider yourself one of the family” from the play Oliver to the bride.  They really did a bang-up job and the tune has been running through my head all day long.

I always cry at weddings.  I really, really want to run up to the groom and hug him close and whisper in his ear, “It’s not too late.  You can still run away.”  But I don’t.  I simply wipe away my tears and smile gamely.

Tomorrow we head for the Galaxy of Butte, in the Montana Nebula.  It should be another 325 mile day.  Then we will detour to the planet of Ennis to see some friends if they are in town and available.  Otherwise we will continue our warp speed blast toward North Carolina.

End First Officer’s Log

Captain's Picture Log 20-15-06-28

Admiring Trish's Ring Purchased in Ireland on a Recent Trip

The Bride Greeting the Backyard Crowd

Hugging My "Third Daughter" from Her Phoenix High School Years

First Officer’s Log: 20-15-06-24

Hint for a Happy Life:  When Microsoft Word asks, “Do you want to save this?” and you want to save it but in a different format, do not select “No”.  This is a lesson I learned 30 years ago and relearned just this morning.  So the following is a rewrite of the magnificent prose that flowed, and was throwed, away.

I spent Sunday afternoon in sick bay.  Actually it was the Jefferson Healthcare Emergency Center as a result of an attack of acute diverticulitis.  The facility looked to be brand new, the staff incredibly efficient, Dr. Smith and RN Trisha magnificent in their efficiency and techniques.  I got probed, pressed, tested, and CAT scanned in about an hour and a half.  Diagnosis was as stated above and I was sent home (RV’d) with a script for ten days of antibiotics.  I already feel about 90% better and expect to be fully myself at the end of seven or so more days.

As impressive as my visit to JHEC was, my Sunday morning was a lot more fun as our daughter Kimberly took us sailing!  Do you remember the snarky comments I made in my first PT blog entry about people who challenge Mother Nature by going out in small sailboats and thinking its fun?  Well, belay (nautical term) those comments because Sunday I became one.

When we arrived at the PT Harbor Dock daughter Kimberly and her 16 year old son Rowan had a 30? foot sailboat all prepped and ready to go out.  We climbed in, crewman Rowan pushed the pointy end out, Kimmie fired up the little pusher engine, and we motored out of the windbreak.  Once clear of the rocks and shoals Kimmie hoisted the mainsail (nautical term) and Rowan jabbed the jib (not a nautical term) and all heck broke loose!

The wind grabbed the sails and that little boat took off like a shot!  It heeled over (nautical term) and started flying over the waves.  Grams Cheryl had spent summers with her grandparents sailing the lakes of Indiana so she was relaxed and having a ball.  Me, not so much.  Yet.  We shot across the bay, playing “Dodgem” with the Washington State Ferry Boats.  In spite of the maritime tradition that sailing vessels have the right of way, the ferries do not give way.  You dodgem or become flotsam (nautical term).

Then Kimmie yelled, “Prepare to come about (nautical term), and all heck broke loose again only in reverse.  The boat healed over the other way, we all jumped to the other side, the sails luffed (nautical term), and then caught the wind again.  Once again the boat heaved and leaned (same thing?) and tried to shoot right out from under us.  Only this time it was sailing against the wind.  I have never been able to figure out  how a boat can sail into the wind and Kimmie tried to explain about “tacking” (nautical term) and some other nautical terms, but I prefer to just think it is, a) magic, and b) having a genius for a daughter.

We stayed out for about an hour and a half and I had a ball!  It was a totally new experience for me, and I almost forgot about all the creatures in the water that would be willing to eat me if we went over.  All in all I’m not ready to give up biking, and truth be told I prefer my boats to have great big engines in them, but I gotta admit, I HAD A GREAT TIME!

And I promise to never again make snarky comments about sailboat people.

End First Officer’s Log Entry

Addendum:

Rowan is taking Driver’s Ed classes now.  As part of the class he was required to change a tire on an automobile and have the experience documented by an adult.  His dad is off on a business trip, so I was delegated to be an adult for the morning. 

When I arrived at his house I suggested we take a photo of him using a cell phone to call roadside assistance as, a) most cars don’t have spare tires anymore (his mom’s car doesn’t, and my car doesn’t), and, b) his parents pay for roadside assistance so why not use it?  He agreed that his instructor would probably laugh if we did that but would also probably fail him on that requirement.

We started to do the exercise on Maxwell the Smart but found out that Smart cars don’t have a spare tire or a jack.  Instead they come with a can of fix-a-flat, an air pump, and a phone number for roadside assistance.  His mom was off gallivanting with her car so that left us no choice but to go for ice cream.  An hour or so later we received a frantic text from Kimmie asking “what have you done with my son?”  So we had to go home.

With his mom’s car available, we (he) put the car into Park, set the brake, and chocked the wheels.  Then we (he) broke the lug nuts free, pulled the wheel off, and then we (he) put it back on.  It took us (him) about 20 minutes and he did me the service of genuinely pretending to pay attention to this old man’s sage advice on a subject that became moot with the advent of run-flat tires. 

I photo-documented the whole procedure and will toss in a couple of shots below.

End First Officer’s Addendum

Ahoy There! First Officer's Picture Gallery

Exploring the Outer Limits

Stardate: 20-15-06-20
Saturday

Since my FO bailed out yesterday (Friday) to explore new worlds and acquire copper treasures in Port Angeles, I spent the morning editing and organizing photos. John Denver kept me company, and I stayed on a rocky mountain high with sunshine on my shoulder for the rest of the day. Around noon Peanut, Cleo and I struck out on foot for the Chinese Gardens. I’m terrible with maps, but figured out how to find an obscure trail out of the campsite across the road that took us to one of the major trails on the map. We made a jog and continued on the smaller trail until we found the larger trail to the Gardens. I’ll post a panorama of the Chinese Gardens’ Lake. 

The area we trekked through couldn’t have been more picturesque, so we continued on until we spied the ocean across the tall grass. 

Puppy eye-view of ocean at North Beach in the distance

We’d made it all the way to the park at North Beach. 

By this time we’d been walking for 45 minutes, so we sprawled on the thick green grass under a tree in the park to rest. I wasn’t entirely sure I could find my way back to camp without some wrong turns and wasted steps to right the direction, so I decided to cheat and call my daughter Kimberly who drove over with granddaughter Hailey to rescue me and the pups. Life is good.

Kimberly told me I could have walked on the beach around the base of a cliff jutting into the ocean and found the lighthouse at Fort Worden not too far from where we are camped. Who knew? 

I thought we had discovered a whole new world at North Beach, but Kimberly had been there many times. “It’s a small town, Mom,” she reminded me. I guess after living here for 2 years, there aren’t many places she hasn’t explored, including the bays and inlets when she takes out one of the sailboats at Point Hudson.  She’s going to take Frank and me sailing before we leave here next week.

This morning dawned bright and sunny for the car show where the FO took photos of some very impressive restored cars from the 20s, 30s, 40s, 50s, and 60s. I even got to see and salivate over the car I drove as a teenager, a 1963 Pontiac Bonneville Convertible. This one was red, but my mother’s car in 63 was white with red interior. I absolutely loved driving that car! I’m amazed now that she even let me drive it! One day I drove it all the way from Kokomo, IN over to Logansport, IN. It’s only a half hour drive, but I’m sure she had no idea I drove that far. You see, there was this boy who . . . well you get the picture.

It’s so quiet and peaceful up here in the Ft. Worden Forest Campground, unlike the windy beach where we camped two years ago in Ali-the-gator. The sites are far apart and very large with tall green pines sheltering each one. There are no rowdy kids with firecrackers and there are lots of trails and old fort buildings to explore. I’m not going to want to leave here when we move down to Kent for a few days before beginning our trek to North Carolina.

Yes, as Frank mentioned in an earlier post, I miss watching the sailboats, rowing crews, kayakers, and yachts moving in and out of the harbor at Point Hudson, but I’m not complaining about a setup like this (and yes, it’s great to be out of the wind on the Point!)

View of Admiralty Inlet from our site

Point Hudson Harbor

Our view of the Whidby Island ferry at Point Hudson

Truly, I'm not longing for the harbor at all . . .NOT