First Officer’s Log: 20-15-06-19

Remember Jabba the Hut?  Well, today I took Maxwell the Smart and drove from Port Townsend to Sequim and Port Angeles in a quest for pressed.  (Pressed pennies that is.)  I collect them everywhere I go and send them to my two east-coast grandkids.  I don’t know if they get them, or if they want them, but I press them and send them anyway.  Believe it or not collecting those silly pressed pennies is quite a big deal.  I use pressed penny apps online to locate the machines along our routes or near our destinations.  I have, on more than one occasion, made 50 mile detours just to destroy a couple of U.S. centavos.  It makes no sense, I know it’s silly, and Cheryl rolls her eyes at me each time I do it, but I enjoys it so I does it.  I put it in the category of, “small pleasures for small minds”.  Some people collect Rembrandts, I destroy pennies.

The first stop was the Olympic Game Farm in Sequim which is pronounced “Squim” for some reason.  This is a great example of building a better mousetrap and then hiding it under a bushel.  It is a huge “drive your own car through” wild game park.  I don’t know how wild the animals really are because I try to not enter the food chain as often as possible, but the warning signs at the entrance were pretty specific and could be summed up as “if you get out of your car you will be eaten.”  As for hiding their mousetrap under a bushel, this is a business that (I don’t think) could exist if not for the invention of the GPS.  I know for sure I couldn’t have found it without the BIB.  But found it I did, and penny I pressed and then I headed for Hurricane Ridge.

Hurricane Ridge is a scary name isn’t it?  I don’t know if the wind up there, seventeen miles up the side of a mountain always blows like it was today, but if it does the name is appropriate.  The road to HR starts right in the middle of Port Angeles.  I wasn’t sure exactly where so I stopped and asked the BIB and she said, “Turn Left.”  I looked up and there was a sign that said, “Hurricane Ridge Turn Left.”  Man, that Garmin Company is incredible!  They taught her to read!

I turned left and started up the mountain.  At the entrance to the Olympic Park the ranger asked for $20.  I asked if the National Parks Senior Pass was good for entry and she said it was.  Then I discovered that I had left my senior pass in the coach.  I grumbled about that and she suggested that it would be cheaper to buy another Senior Pass and save $10.00 than to pay the day rate.  So I did and I did.

The road up the mountain is fantastic!  It is absolutely smooth and curvy as heck.  Maxwell had a good time but I was missing the Norton the whole way up.  On the other hand the temperature was 50 degrees in Port Angeles and about 40 at Hurricane Ridge, so I didn’t miss it too much.  At the top I found the gift shop and destroyed three pennies.  I did three because I accidently chose a wrong design on the second one so I gave it to a Japanese tourist couple who found it fascinating that destroying U.S. currency was an OK thing to do.

On the way down the mountain my phone rang, and I pulled over to answer it.  While telling a guy that I only work on vintage British bikes (not new ones) I looked over and a deer had her head pressed up against the passenger window.  I said, “Do you mind?” and she shrugged and walked away. 

The ride back to PT was anticlimactic.  Smooth, fast, no problems.  When I got to the coach Cheryl was out gallivanting with the puppies someplace so I walked around and found a group of three Class A’s that were travelling together and stopped to say “Hi.”  I didn’t even get the word out when one of the guys saw my shirt and shouted, “Norton!” and that started an hour’s discussion on bikes we have owned and loved.  T’was a fun day!

End First Officer’s Entry.

 

First Officer’s Entry 20-15-06-17

First Officer’s Entry:

So here we sit, 42 feet from the edge of the ocean.  The water is dark and foreboding and there are creatures out there that will EAT you.  On that water are people in tiny little sailboats who, if given even half a chance, will tell you how much fun it is to go out and challenge yourself (and Mother Nature).  Then they will, upon seeing your “Norton” shirt, explain in great detail how dangerous motorcycling is.  Last night the temperature was about 25 degrees with a sixty mile an hour wind trying to knock over the RV.  I hear it is 110 degrees in Phoenix.  I miss that.  Cheryl is about as happy as a seagull shitting on a coach.  Yeah, they do that, and I swear it’s on purpose (porpoise?) because the white, acidic, cement spray hits the sides of the coach in great swinging arcs. 

As I entered this RV “Park” the Garmin BIB (B**** in the Box) said, “Turn right on Hudson Street.”  So I started to swing left for a tight right turn when I saw that “Hudson Street” was a 75 foot dead end.  I straightened up and looked farther ahead and there was a second Hudson Street.  That second one took us into the RV park.  When I commented on this interesting factoid at the check-in desk the nice lady acknowledged Hudson Street used to be a loop and that quite a few RV’s turn on the first Hudson Street by mistake.  Then she noted that a lot of them have a difficult time backing back out.  Gee, maybe a sign, “RV’s use second Hudson Street” would be helpful?

On the other hand, Port Townsend (“PT” to the locals) is a pretty little town.  It’s about as far northwest as you can go short of Port Angeles.  The buildings date back to the early 1800’s and the town makes a serious effort to maintain the old timey feeling.  The shops are cute and touristy.  I counted 723 ladies wear shops and three shops with T-Shirts for guys.  There are no shops that carry black golf shirts with a small PT logo on the pocket although two out of the three guy’s shops thought that might be a good idea.  All in all I get the feeling that the ladies here dress a lot better than the men do.

On the other-other hand, last week I stumbled into, “The Garage” aka “Bergstrom’s Antique and Classic Autos”, located just off the main drag.  The date on the building is 1917 and the inside is crammed with beautifully restored cars and jumbles of old auto parts and memorabilia.  And wouldn’t you know it, there in a back corner was a very nice ’72 Norton Commando.  The owner said it was his personal bike and he rides it regularly.

Having granddaughter Hailey stay with us took a lot time and energy, but was actually (am I really saying this?) fun!  The first couple of days with the other GD’s was hectic but fun, and the following days with Hailey and friends was a kick.  The first friend was Abby, a fine young lady, quiet and sweet who wants to be a pastry chef and own her own dessert shop.  As luck would have it she was at Hailey’s house when I decorated Hailey’s birthday cake.  I expect Abby will be a better cake decorator than this 50-years-out-of-practice old man.  The second friend was Zoe, a sweet young lady who was a joy to be with.  Hailey said that Zoe mentioned that her grandparents live in Florida, and it was fun to have some grandparents for a day.  That was nice.

Tomorrow we move the rig from this barren peninsula up to the tall pines of Fort Warden State Park.  I will enjoy being out of the wind; Cheryl will be going through shore withdrawal.

End of First Officer’s Log.  (Photos follows.)

 

 

Captain's Log 20-15-06-15

How many grandkids can you fit into a Class A RV? We've been working on this thorny problem since last Friday evening when our son Michael arrived with his two girls from Vashon Island. They joined Kimberly's daughter, who we're looking after until her mom and dad return from the East Coast on Tuesday night. With two motorcycles and a workbench already in the RV's garage where there are 2 queen-sized beds, the accommodations were rather tight. However, the girls didn't seem to mind. With the dinette turned into a bed and the pull-out couch extended, we had room for the girls and Michael.

Along with Aine and Daalny came two guitars, a violin two suitcases, two sleeping bags, two pillows, art supplies, books and various stuffed animals. These items added to Hailey's two stuffed animals, overnight bag, board games, a muffin pan and a cookbook for making popovers turned our spacious living area into . . . well, you can imagine. I'm including a picture of the girl's shoes lined up between the driver and passenger seats up front.

Saturday turned out to be a big day with farmer's market in the morning and a festival at Fort Worden in the afternoon. Our daughter Stacie arrived from Everett with Michell and Kyle, and the weather couldn't have been nicer for a day outside with family. Stacie's family and Michael left late-afternoon to catch different ferry boats to different destinations. Pop Pop and Grams then took over the stewardship of Aine, Daalny and Hailey.

Our rig sits on the waterfront of Admiralty Inlet, so the girls enjoyed building forts of driftwood on the beach during the day and playing Clue with the "old folks" in the evenings. Our site is right across the road from Doc's Restaurant where they serve some of the best food in Port Townsend. It's where Hailey's big brother Rowan got the idea to rate hamburgers on "a scale of one to Doc's." The place is packed  every night,  but  we managed to get in Friday evening to check out the reviews we'd heard, and they proved to be spot on.

 

Three deer walked onto the beach one evening, sauntered the length of the camp's waterfront and then delicately tiptoed through the parking lot and disappeared between the white and green-trimmed buildings across the road.

Our stay on the beach will end on Wednesday when we head up into the trees at Fort Worden's upper campground. We'll be out of the wind there, which we found out at Point Hudson can be super aggressive. The coach will appreciate escaping the buffering it experienced most nights as we camped on the Point and so will we!