Leaving Long Beach

Ilwaco, Raymond, Grayland, Westport, Aberdeen, Wash. -- Yesterday it rained in the morning and so I spent the day just cocooning in my Mo. I’ve decided it’s my “womb,” my cocoon. The source of my security, my sanctuary while I am waiting for God and bringing to fruition my new life, my true self. So yesterday I read more of my thought-provoking spirituality book and started exploring some of my false selves. One begins to wonder, after awhile, if you have any REAL selves or if all your reality is confused and separated into different personas that help you deal with the hard places. I’ve read about multiple personality disorders and I think we’re all a bit that way, to some extent. Except we have control over our “visitors,” unlike Sybille or Eve. The idea, I guess, is to discover those invaders/interlopers, those false selves, and name them, befriend them, get to know them. And eventually come to terms with whatever wounds caused them to surface. It’s kind of nurturing those really painful parts of our lives and understanding that we don’t really need the help of “others” to get past them and survive.

Karl and Dee and the boys were tentatively planning to spend the weekend but they decided they couldn’t make it. Since the weather cleared off nicely in the afternoon and evening, Charlie and I made a nice fire and roasted a hotdog for him (which intrigued him immensely) and toasted some marshmallows for s’mores for me. I don’t like these lonely nights around the campfire when everyone else seems to be at least coupled, if not in groups of family and/of friends.

After spending so much time dealing with such heavy-duty stuff yesterday, today I decided I needed to get out more. So Charlie and I hopped in the Saturn and headed north this afternoon. We drove to Raymond, then west to the Cranberry Coast and Westport. We made a couple stops to investigate the beach in different places, and walked on the docks at Westport. Salmon fishing derby days, I think. It was very busy. We got home a bit after 7, so we spent probably a good six hours exploring. I guess that’s what I’m thinking will be mode of exploring the country: find a place to park for a day or two and then drive out from there for day trips.

So I’ve spent several days exploring the beaches and byways of the Peninsula here. The other day I picked up about 15 whole sand dollars on the beach between Long Beach and Klipsan Beach. We also saw the remains of what looked like a large harbor seal. The gulls and terns had made short work of stripping most of the meat. I made sure Charlie didn’t get too close.

Today’s journey -- as well as much of this week -- was a bit of a trip down memory lane. My father’s mother grew up in Raymond and had family all over this area. My uncle Duane, her youngest brother, had a house on Willapa Bay just south of Bruceport. That was one of the few places our family ever vacationed. Lots of memories here. I drove by what I’m pretty sure was their house today. Years later John and I took his youngest brothers camping at Twin Harbors State Park just south of Westport when we were much younger. We also had gone deep sea fishing out of Ilwaco just before he left the City of Vancouver and we moved to Pullman. That was the year I caught a 47-pound Chinook and we later got stuck in the sand and were pulled out by a former high school teacher of mine. He apparently owned a fishing boat or was somehow connected to a charter company. The charter company we went out on is no longer in business so no pictures of me and my big fish. Not that I would expect photos to still be around from the mid-70s.

Tomorrow it’s back to Portland for a few final errands before taking the big step and heading east for at least two months. I still haven’t decided if I’m going to drive straight through on 94 or if I will have time to swoop down south and hit Rapid City and the Black Hills/Mt. Rushmore area. Truth be told, I’m just a bit nervous about canoeing the Boundary Waters. I’ve never been a big fan of sleeping on the ground. I don’t have any camping equipment (tent, sleeping bag, pad, etc.). I don’t know if I will really like paddling all day or carrying a canoe around. I’m not sure why I decided this was something I needed to do. Besides, I’m really not in very good shape. And I hate mosquitoes. WHAT was I thinking when I suggested to my sister that we do this???

I guess this whole trip is about testing myself and growing, among other things. So I need to be brave and do my best in that self-imposed adversity. For now, though, I’ll enjoy a few more nights in a bed, hot water, electricity, indoor plumbing, etc. I think doing without all those conveniences helps us appreciate them more, and understand how some people in the world live who NEVER have such conveniences.

I do want to explore more the concept of Habitat for Humanity build projects. That would be a good way to meet people as well as doing something constructive with my time while I’m out traveling. But for now I think I’ll go build another nice fire and enjoy my last night on the Longbeach Peninsula.
TravelinLady

Lingering at the Coast a Little Longer

Ilwaco, Wash., July 26 -- Am I afraid to leave the Northwest, or what? Actually, one more layover to take care of some final things in Portland.

Sometimes after I’ve been in Portland it takes me a couple days (at least) to wind down. It’s been a busy July. Much busier than I expected it to be. Originally my plans called for me to be in Hoods Canal for two weeks, just kind of vegging. Instead, I went south out of Yakima to Sun River, then farther south to California, first the Russian River area then on to Yosemite on the east side of the state. Lots of challenges to deal with. I’ve now added 6,000 miles to the Mo; close to doubling the mileage from when I bought it.

I returned to Oregon, staying in Florence for a few days. Steve came to visit and I spent time with Kristin and Ryan. Then the Mo had to go in for servicing; mostly routine but also some little things that needed fixing. Five days and $1,800 later it’s good to go (I HOPE!). So now I’m in Ilwaco for the week. I return to Portland Monday for a couple last things before heading east. Those “last things” seem to be like rabbits breeding; more and more keep coming!!

I have been working on my trip planning to get back to Minnesota, with a stopover in Rapid City, SD, for a day or two to see the sights there. With that stopover I am looking at about 9 days’ travel time. I could reduce that by just pulling into Walmart parking lots along I-94 so I may do that. Traveling freeways is very fast but not very scenic. You miss some beautiful country that way. Driving up from Junction City to Astoria/Ilwaco, I took 99W much of the way, then 47 north out of McMinnville to 26. Saw some parts of Oregon I’ve never seen, even though they’re fairly close to Portland. Beautiful country.

Ilwaco/Seaview/Longbeach are intriguing. The prices are still somewhat affordable. I think I could buy a house here and just retire (or buy a lot and park my rv). It is tempting. This traveling has its challenges. There is security in having a place to call home, a place to hang your hat and leave your boots by the door. Especially if it’s got a nice yard, with beautiful flowers. But I know this is also the beautiful time here; in November it will be horribly ugly and depressing. So that’s when you take the motorhome south.

I have been avoiding God, I think. Not taking the time to get down into the depths of my soul. Or maybe I’m expecting too much of myself. Maybe just being away, without all the Portland distractions, is enough. I have been “talking” to God, just not taking as much time to listen as I think I should be.

There are so many interesting possibilities. I could buy a little cabin here and set up my office and studio and write and paint (there is a well-known watercolor artist who lives a bit north of here who does clinics, etc. Maybe he’d take me on as a student.)

Or I could use it as a sanctuary when I’m not out in the world doing things.

I came across an interesting opportunity the other day. Habitat for Humanity has programs through which you can travel to different parts of the country and help build Habitat homes. That piques my interest very much. Stay someplace for a couple weeks; help construct a home; learn a few skills; get relatively inexpensive rent for my rv space; explore during my free time. Then maybe I could come back and build my own home if I bought a lot here when I’m tired of traveling. Fascinating possibilities. I will definitely check into it.

Sometimes when you have so many doors open, so many possibilities, so many opportunities, it makes it incredibly hard to decide what to do next. So I keep looking for God’s guidance in that. BUT I’d better start doing a better job of listening or it will be closing my eyes and picking whatever door comes into my grasp first. While I think I would be happy with any or all of the possibilities, it might not be the best for me, it might not be where my heart is really leading me. And I’m not getting any younger so the time for mistakes and missteps is limited. And I’m certainly not getting any richer, so my financial capabilities are also limited. But then, if I truly trust God to lead me, none of that should really matter. I should have the faith that I will be able to go and do whatever it is God wants of me. Assuming God actually wants something from me.

I had an interesting discussion with my friend and pastor, Fr. Peter, last week. He suggested that perhaps God doesn’t have a “specific” plan for us but rather wants us to make the plan and offer it to Him. “Surprise me,” God says. “See what you can come up with that will delight you and me.” Well, that makes it even harder in some ways. I have to come up with the plan myself; I can’t just buy into one that is already set in place for me. Aiyiyi!!

Well, looks like I’d better start doing some planning . . .

TravelinLady

Rainy Morning Reflections

Florence, Ore., July 18 --

Thoughts and Prayers on a Rainy Morning

Sinking deeper into the cozy sheets, my dog curled up beside me, I lie in wait
for God
for some sign
for sure knowledge
What am I doing here, Lord? Why this gypsy life?

Where is my passion?
Where is my bliss?
Only in you, Father. But how to channel that?
How to express my feelings in meaningful actions?
How to share that with others in ways that help them understand
your unfathomable love and goodness?
And finally,
how to use whatever gifts you have given me
to help bring your peace and justice to reality here in this world.
I believe this must be done heart by heart,
person to person,
conversion by conversion.
This is not something we can force because then it will be our will, not yours.
We are only your instruments;
you are the skilled hand guiding us, your tools, to accomplish the greatest good,
the only true good.

Rain brings on introspection.
I prefer to travel the dark paths of my inner soul on a dark and rainy day.
When I am alone and not distracted by things that demand my attention.
When the sun is out I want to explore your big beautiful world,
to be out in it reveling in your purple foxgloves and yellow buttercups,
the swallows swooping through the golden air,
breezes blowing my hair from my face so my eyes can see clearly your generous gifts all around me.

The interior darkness is confusing.
I feel safe only because I know that you are here with me.
But there are other things here, too.
False things, ready to steer me the wrong way on winding paths that lead to nowhere.
That waste what little time you have given me here on your beautiful earth.

Lord, Father of all whose love is so abundant we can never understand it,
please be with me
and help me turn aside from those wrong paths. They look so tempting,
so very much as if they are truly your way.
They distract with good intentions or laziness,
or fear that taking the hard road will bring
too many questions and criticisms from the wise people.
Send your Spirit to direct my heart to that one path you want me to follow,
without regard for what others say or think.
For I continue to be lost. And only you, God of my heart, know how to help me get found.

Hey Its Good to Be Back Home Again

Florence, Ore, July 17 -- It’s raining here in Florence this morning. It’s kind of cozy sitting in the Mo, with rain hitting the roof and Mary Black singing in the background. Steve and I drove to Coos Bay last night and he met Kristin and Ryan. He proclaimed Ryan’s Vanilla Porter some of the best beer he’s ever had. At the restaurant we went to for dinner with the kids, he had a Black Butte Porter and said it paled in comparison. I am not a beer drinker, but even I thought the Vanilla Porter was good. GeeWhiz brewing. Ryan will enter some beers in the Coos County fair in a couple weeks. I have only ever heard rave reviews about his brewing abilities. He made all the beer for their reception. Steve asked if he would consider brewing professionally and Ryan thought that would take the fun out of a hobby he really enjoys. There is much to be said about doing something just for the sheer pleasure of doing a good job and sharing it with friends. Sometimes adding that “commercial” aspect and the pressures of making it pay financially ruin it.

Steve and I took Charlie to the beach a couple times. The first time we went to a little area on the Siuslaw River/Bay. The water dropped off quickly and the beach area was very narrow but Charlie managed to get very wet and very sandy. And then he would come back to where our chairs and mat were and head straight for Steve and shake sand all over him. It doesn’t sound that funny in the retelling, but I was laughing so hard at the two of them I couldn’t stand up. I used to take Charlie to the playground at St. Ignatius and taught him to go up onto the slide. Then I would slide down and he would run down right behind me, usually landing on me in the process. Charlie makes me laugh so hard, I become helpless laughing and giggling at him. Steve, strangely, has a very similar effect on me, and put the two together and it is better than any slapstick routine I’ve ever seen.

We drove up to Waldport and visited his fishing buddy, Ray, whom I met in Bend a couple weeks ago. Ray’s son Byron and his family were visiting from Arizona. They had gone out crabbing and caught 17 Dungeness crabs They cooked up the crab, some oysters they had bought, fried up a sea bass in beer batter, and we had a magnificent feast. Byron and his wife, Frankie, used some of the crab in a delicious chowder. I was going to make a blueberry pie to contribute to the feast but I didn’t have shortening or enough butter and then realized I hadn’t kept my rolling pin. Nice try. Motorhomes aren’t made for gourmet cooking. So we bought a turtle pie at Safeway. It was okay but nothing spectacular.

The next day we went to Heceta Beach just north of Florence. We have eaten so much good food the couple days he’s been here that we both needed a good long walk. And Charlie always needs a good long walk. I have been to beaches on the Pacific Coast from NW Washington to Mexico and Hawaii. It is not that unusual to see live starfish in tidepools but I have never seen a starfish on the beach. Yesterday we saw two Ochre Starfish. They were both dead, but they were just lying on the beach. We also saw a lightbulb that had floated up on the tide, apparently. What a random thing -- a lightbulb. When you see strange things, out of context or beyond your normal experience, it always makes you wonder. Especially if you are in a questing place. Are these signs? What do they mean. Is God telling me something? What could two starfish and a lightbulb possibly mean?

On the way back from the beach I drove us through a little community, nice little houses mostly built in the last 8 to 10 years. We picked up fliers for a couple that were for sale and then this morning went and looked at one of them. Totally random. Part of me has always wanted to live at the coast. That salt water in the blood thing, I guess. But I also love Central Oregon. I am just not yet feeling totally pulled by God in where I will settle, or at least I haven’t recognized it yet. Maybe I think when I find it a lightbulb will go off --- lightbulb . . . hmmm. Nor am I pulled in what I should do, other than write in some form or other. Steve and I have some very complementary skills in addition to having more things in common than I can keep track of. And I always spend so much time laughing when I am with him. But we also have some fairly deep spiritual/theological conversations. So where is this heading? I don’t know. We really only met in mid-April and have only gotten to know each other well in the past month. But we are also both seeking where God wants us to be and what God wants us to do and we agree that whatever that is is more important than anything else. We both have a deep sense of mission: what is God asking of us? We both lost our spouses, his from cancer six years ago. Why? It’s dangerous to imagine God’s hand in things when it really isn’t there. I’ve been there and done that a couple times in my life and it can take you off on wrong roads and get you lost quicker than wandering in the fog on the Oregon Coast.

I will go spend some time with my daughter in Coos Bay today. I am happy to see that she and Ryan have built a good life and seem contented. I have never wished anything for my children beyond that they be happy, satisfied with their life, have someone to love and who loves them. And that God have a role there. We’re still working on that part, God and I. I have always felt such a deep presence of God in my own life, despite the frustrations and anger and questions. The absence of God is something I can’t even imagine. I am so very thankful for the gift of faith passed onto me by my parents. John had that, too.

Tomorrow, July 18, would have been John and my 37th anniversary. Those dates (July 4th would have been his 59th birthday) get a bit easier every year. They are special opportunities to remember the good times, the blessings we shared, the gifts of our children, our families, our faith. This will be the first anniversary since he died that I am not living in the house we built together. But spending today with Kristin, and then seeing Karl this weekend will remind me of the true home we built together, the family we had and raised. There is that focus on those relationships again. They mean so much more than any “thing” ever will.

Well, time to get head down 101 to Coos Bay. Kristin wants me to help her sew a cape to wear for the new Harry Potter book release party. She also wants me to go to the latest movie with her this afternoon. I have only seen the first two movies and read the first couple books. I’m way behind on Harry Potter. Should be fun anyway, just being with my sweet daughter. Next weekend I am hoping to have Karl and Dee and the boys come up to stay with me in Ilwaco and maybe have Steve come up there and meet them and send him and Karl out fishing. I think Steve’s up for it; the tricky part is getting Karl and Dee to commit and be there. I know their life is busy and Dee may have to work that Saturday. But it would be fun to have them bring the boys camping for a night or two.
TravelinLady

California Rocks

July 13, p.m. Redwood Trails, Calif. -- Charlie and I went down to the beach this morning. It is not one of your nice sandy beaches. Rather, it is pebbly. At first glance the pebbles are just sand waiting to happen. But on closer inspection, these little rocks are each a magical little gem, polished by the ocean and other rocks. Everywhere I looked I found another intriguing rock to inspect and, in many cases, put in my pocket. I now have a nice little jar of rocks from Stone Lagoon beach, supplemented by a couple I picked up at Yosemite Lakes campground. A young couple I met on the beach who were looking for agates suggested I display them in glass with water. Nice!

Some of the rocks are agates. There were also numerous pieces of quartz. And I’m not positive but I think many of the pieces I picked up are jasper, reds and greens, mostly. Some of the greens look very much like malachite, with the lines running throughout them, but they are a much paler green. I even picked up a couple pieces of granite, round and smooth as if they’d been cut and polished.

Rocks. They’re so “everyday.” You can look at them and not see much that is impressive. But when they are wet, they take on more depth, more color, more brightness. Hence the water in my relish jar of rocks. I picked up one rock that was quartz on one side, I think, but the other side was just dark grey rock. If it had been facing the other way, I would never have even seen it. Wonder how many rocks we pass over because their beautiful side is pressed to the earth, hidden. Wonder how many people we pass over because their beautiful side is hidden away.

Picking up rocks made me think of my dad, who loved to collect rocks wherever he could find them. And it made me think of my brother Mike, who also inherited that rock hound interest, and his wife, Shan. Shan is an artist who finds beautiful rocks, photographs them, with all their interesting lines and colors, and then uses that rock art as the basis for paintings. It sounds weird but I have seen some of her work and it is very interesting and beautiful. She also has a collection of some very beautiful stones and gemstones, polished and unpolished, cut and uncut.

More and more, though, I am realizing that no matter how hard we try to create beauty, our efforts are only the poorest copy of what God has already created. Our work is like that of a child trying to make a play-doh copy of Michelangelo’s David. But that shouldn’t keep us from trying (imitation, they say, is the sincerest form of flattery). Just as knowing how little we can accomplish in other endeavors -- fending hunger, bringing about justice, peace, freedom, etc. -- shouldn’t keep us from trying to make a difference in whatever ways we can.

Seems to me we are all called to do what we can when we can. It might just be giving someone a smile, or thanking someone, telling them how much they mean to us. It could be helping someone who is in a bad spot -- like those Californians who came to my rescue several times this past week. (Including one yesterday who had a socket when I needed one to tighten my rearview/sideview mirror.) It might be asking someone to help us, to sit with us when we need a friend; everyone needs to be wanted. Yes, it makes us vulnerable. People can refuse us, can take our good intentions and turn them into something ugly. But that is their problem, as long as we don’t accept their judgments over our own knowledge of what is true. As long as we can keep turning those rocks over and finding the beautiful sides of life. That’s one of the things I am learning on this trip. There is abundant beauty and goodness out there. We tend to forget about that when we dwell on all the things that are wrong with our country and our world. So take a minute to find beauty in your world. I’m betting that’s all it will take. A minute. Then savor that beauty and send a thank you to the one who blessed you with that gift.

TravelinLady

Northern California Coastin into Oregon

July 13, Redwood Trails, Calif. -- Okay, it’s Friday the 13th. Good thing I don’t get nervous about those kinds of things. Last week it was 7/07/07 so if you’re into lucky numbers, that should counter one lousy little Friday the 13th. I am in a privately owned campground on the No. Calif. coast. Redwood Country. I went from Gold Country to Olive Country to Redwood Country. It’s cool here but sunny this morning. Blessings after the high heat last week in the valleys and even in the Sierra. I did some housecleaning yesterday after arriving. That’s so when I take Charlie to the beach later he can spread sand everywhere again.

I’ve been listening to a new selection of cds, including Jackson Browne, The Eagles, James Taylor, the lovely Mary Black (thanks to my dear friend Katie), among others. I guess I’ve never really taken the time to listen to some of the words of these songs I know so well, and there are songs in this selection I don’t know. I’m particularly captivated by Jackson Browne’s Rebel Jesus. It’s more of a Christmas song, but the message is very thought-provoking. Jesus was a bit of a rebel, I guess, though not in the ways we think of one. He didn’t go out and fight the establishment but he did fight against the status quo, the comfortable places we so easily slip into, thinking we’re doing good things when we drop a $5 bill in the collection basket or donate a couple cans of pork and beans or chicken noodle soup to St. Vincent de Paul.

This whole thing of prayer versus works keeps coming up for me. Yes it is very important to try to change the world and bring justice to those who suffer. Yes, it is very important to spend time in prayer and reflection because we can’t possibly change this world without God’s help. By searching our own hearts and souls, we are better able to see where God wants us and what our role in change is. It can be as simple as saying something kind to someone who needs to hear it. It’s amazing to me how ungrateful and unkind people can be, and yet we all very much need to be loved and appreciated.

I used to be reluctant to discuss my faith with others. But on this journey I am making a point to give God credit, to talk about why I am doing this (to the best of my knowledge), to be kind and forgiving. The incident from last week with Mr. Mobile Mechanic comes to mind. Could I have handled him differently? Instead of going toe-to-toe in anger, could I have tried to be more understanding? Yes, he was missing out on a paid repair, even though I hadn’t called him or asked the shop to call him. Maybe he needed that money to pay his rent. My own negative thoughts would say that he needed it to buy more beer, but I don’t like those negative thoughts; I don’t think they are part of the true me. I think they are based on experiences and hearsay evidence that make me cynical. Cynicism is NOT a gift from God. It is the sign of a tired old heart that is forgetting how to be a child and accept things at face value, as true, as good.

Tomorrow I will drive north back into Oregon. I was thinking about this yesterday. I was born in Idaho, lived most of my life to age 28 in Washington. But I feel like an Oregonian. Oregon feels like home to me. My family is scattered, but my friends are in Portland, primarily. I miss them when I’m not there. I have given some thought to my residency because if I stay in Oregon I have to pay state income tax on my retirement funds. I’d prefer not to, especially when/if I’m not living in one place. At the same time, I am very connected to Oregon from my work for Senator Smith, my contacts and friends in government agencies in Oregon. I have tried not to care, to pull myself out of that life -- and I don’t read papers or watch the news so to that extent I have succeeded. But I still care. I still want Senator Smith to be reelected because I truly believe he is a wonderful person who cares very much about Oregon. I care what will happen with the Portland Public Schools now that they are looking for a new superintendent to replace the very-promising Vicki Phillips. I know how hard this has been on my friends who work for the District. I care what happens with Portland, with Oregon. It seems strange not to be following the state legislature; I assume they’ve wrapped it up by now.

So where is all this leading me? No clue!

Steve is planning to drive down to Florence where I’ll be staying for a few days. It’s maybe an hour north of Coos Bay but it’s one of my Thousand Trails places so is free. I will introduce him to Kristin and Ryan. I’ve met his daughter and several of his friends, so he can go through my gauntlet a bit now. His friend we went fishing with last week in Central Oregon also has a place near Winchester Bay (Reedsport) and he may stop and visit with Ray. I still don’t know where this relationship is heading. On the one hand I would very much like a man in my life and have prayed about that and sought that. This is a good guy; a very good guy. But I am still determined to follow this journey for awhile longer. So that complicates things. But who knows. Three weeks ago I wouldn’t have even considered him as part of the equation that makes up my life. Now he’s the big X, the unknown factor. Is this something God wants? If so, it will happen in God’s time and it will become clear to both of us, I think. And it will wait until I am finished with what I need to do. So for now it’s important to keep waiting, praying.

I think I will wait the next hour or so on a trailride. There are horses for rent here so I’m going to go put on my jeans and new cowboy boots and go rent a horse for a ride. BarbUS, I’ll be thinking of you and wishing you were here with me so we could ride together!

TravelinLady

Memories

July 12, Corning, Calif. -- I arrived around 3 p.m. yesterday. The big scary hill coming down out of the Sierras was in fact big ang scary but I kept the Mo in 2nd and kept the speed down to around 20-25. Much of the hill is 15-25 mph curves. It was fairly early in the morning and there was very little traffic. I took I-5 north after stopping for gas in Manteca. It was much cooler in Corning than it was last week. In fact, it appears to have rained here since my car was spotted with those muddy raindrops when I picked it up. I went to the Olive Pit and bought some olives and almonds to take "home" to friends.

Many years ago John and I and the kids stopped at the Olive Pit to pick up olives for a dear friend and neighbor, Lynn. I thought alot about her and Jerry as I was shopping. I haven't heard from her in a very long time and now that I have moved and no longer have my phone number, there isn't much possibility she can contact me except by email. I am not sure what happened; I visited her twice in Mexico and she called a few times since but I haven't heard from her in close to a year, I think. She dropped out of my life once before and I was so happy when we reconnected a few years later. So I'm not sure what to do. She was such a good friend to me during some really hard times in my life, including when John died.

Traveling brings up lots of memories of people and places. Driving through the area east of Oakdale (which is very accurately named), I couldn't help but think how much John would have loved the rolling hills with oaks and occasional pines. Even places I've never been remind me of other places. Corning very much reminds me of Yakima, where I grew up. I think the climate is very similar. Even the light in the afternoon and evening, the way the shade moves and how grateful you feel when the sun sinks closer to the west -- those are all Yakima memories. I thought about being a child and taking a nap out in the shade with my sister, Colleen. Of course, we didn't really nap; we just watched the clouds whenever there were any, or the jet trails. There is a comfortableness about that image for me. Back when I was safe and love was near and I had no worries except what that cloud looked like.

I didn't think to check on the sunset or stars last night. I did manage to get laundry done and email checked after being without wifi and cell for several days. Even when I'm trying to live for the moment and in the now I still have "chores" that need to be done. Like right now I should be vacuuuming but I think I'll just put in the slides, hook up the car and head on up to Redding.

TravelinLady

The Really High Sierras

Yosemite, CA July 10 --We arrived (we being me and my older-by-15-months sister Colleen) on Saturday night after a fun afternoon in Cloverdale (see previous post). There is some really beautiful country between the Sacramento River Delta area and the High Sierra country. Rolling hills with abundant oak trees. The grass is very dry -- everything is right now in this area; very high fire hazard -- so it is golden brown and the oaks are a deep green. I think it would be even more beautiful in fall when the oak leaves color or in spring when the grasses are green. But there is something very solid and admirable about this country even now in the height of summer. The road to Yosemite is very steep and windy -- 25 and 30 mph curves. I can’t WAIT to drive the Mo back down. I was hoping to find an easier route but have been assured that this (120) IS the easiest route.

On Sunday we drove up into Yosemite Valley, stopping often to take pictures with my 35 mm camera. (Unfortunately, in a hurry to get a disc so I could share pictures, I took them to a one-hour developer in Groveland and he did a pretty poor job of developing them. I’m very disappointed and sad.) El Capitan, Half Dome and Yosemite Falls are breathtaking. The granite rock formations here are amazing. It is incredibly beautiful, in a very different way from Montana. The rock is less jagged, but no less imposing. The Ponderosa Pines are beautiful. The tourists are a pain in the rear and parking in some of the areas (at least on weekends) is harder to come by than cell service in this remote but crowded area. They take paradise and put up a lodge and souvenir shops . . .

On Monday we decided to go up and over Tioga Pass. Beautiful area, but you drive up to an elevation of nearly 10,000 feet. It is the highest motor vehicle pass in California; I’m guessing it’s got to be one of the highest in the U.S. We then made a circle by coming back across on Sonora Pass. This is a narrow, windy road with road grades of up to 25 percent. Signs clearly advise against taking rvs, trucks, trailers, etc. We were driving my sister’s Camry so we did fine. But of course there’s always got to be one smart guy dragging a trailer who thinks he’s such an outstanding driving that he can ignore the signs. Sonora Pass is 9,600 foot elevation so not as high as Tioga but actually more challenging because of steep grades and very sharp turns.

At one point we pulled over so I could grab my camera from the trunk. The spot we pulled into had several guys, two or three in traditional Arab garb, and a couple of cars. One of the guys, dressed in desert fatigues but with no insignia identifying him as military walked over from where they were standing towards us. He asked how we were doing. I told him we were fine and were just stopping to get our camera from the trunk. I noticed the SUV he was driving had Nevada plates and no military insignia or plates. He waited until I got back in the car. As we were pulling away I noticed one of the guys with an Arab headdress was holding a rifle. I waved to him as we pulled out and he waved back. There was also a sign indicating that the Marines sometimes held military training in the area, but these guys didn’t look like Marines or any other official U.S. military. It was strange and kind of scary. We spoke with a Forest Ranger up the road (where the guy with the travel trailer had slid off the road). She was as puzzled as we were and promised to check on it. She also had lots of pats and sweet talk for Charlie. He gets that alot.

So it was a very full day of driving and we got to try the steep, windy hill of 120 again. I’m not feeling any more confident of heading down there tomorrow.

Today we took it kind of easy. We took Charlie for a nice long walk, and he splashed around in the creek that flows through the campground. There was a little area that someone had dammed up and made a fairly deep hole. Charlie stepped into it and realized it was over his head -- he couldn’t touch bottom and had to swim. He doesn’t like the insecurity of not being able to touch bottom. Kind of like most of us who don’t like the insecurity of not knowing where the bottom is or where we’ll sleep tomorrow night or so many other things we find to worry about. He had no problem swimming --- it’s not like he’ll drown if he can’t touch bottom. It’s just the feeling of not having full control.

Colleen and I went into Groveland, a very cute little town about 20 miles from our 1000 Trails rv preserve. I took the photos in to have them developed and put on a disc and we wandered around for awhile. We ended up eating in “the oldest establishment to serve liquor in California,” having been established in 1852 or something like that. It was a pretty funky old place. Across the street is a hotel that was established in 1849. Old gold-mining country, apparently.

Colleen and I had plenty of time to talk about a variety of things, including our spiritual beliefs. She has a hard time dealing with the Catholic Church (many people from my generation do -- old hurts, anger, impatience at some of the stupid things the church has done and taught in the past). It’s sad that the church has alienated so many people and even sadder when that alienation is so total that they cannot even consider themselves followers of Christ or believers in God. I believe that God works with us all however God can reach us and uses whatever voices and experiences are necessary to tell us of the great love S/He has for us.

I continue to feel very convinced that this time of travel is important to me. It is a time of waiting, listening, praying. I find that being with others, while fun, is also distracting me from my journey -- which is more internal than out across the country. But I am also finding that the more I do and hear and experience, the more I grow, the more I stretch, the more I know I am capable of. I don’t yet know to what end this will lead, but it feels right to be doing this right now.

I will go back to Corning tomorrow and see if I can get my car and tow equipment. Maybe wash a load or two of laundry. If it’s as hot there as it was last weekend, I could probably wash things and hand them out and they’d be dry in 10 minutes or so. Then I’m not sure where. I thought about heading over to the Calif. coast but the road looks like it could be steep and windy and I’m not sure if I’m up for that. But for sure back in Oregon by the weekend, I think. I’ll spend some time with my daughter and son-in-law and then back to Portland for my last long stay until who-knows-when. I can’t touch the bottom, but I think I can swim well enough to be safe.

TravelinLady

California Angels

July 8, 2007, Yosemite Lakes, CA -- It’s been awhile since I’ve posted. Which means either I haven’t been attending to my business or things have been happening to keep me from writing. Both are true. But what is also true is that I have had some difficult trials and some amazing “coincidences” in which complete strangers have been extremely kind and helpful to me. The real California Angels are not in LA. They’re in Corning and Cloverdale, among other places.

But first a quick catchup. I spent the weekend of June 30-July 1 with my late husband’s family in Central Washington. It was good to see all my in-laws and nieces and nephews. My husband’s family is blessed with very cute, very smart children who are delightful to be around. They all loved Charlie and he was very well attended to by children. This July 4th would have been John’s 59th birthday. He died three months after his 55th.

Then on July 2 I drove south to Sun River in Central Oregon. About half-way I noticed the low coolant light was on. I was nowhere near a town where I could get coolant, let alone a mechanic. Coolant was drizzling out of the engine at a pretty good clip. I managed to get to Madras and bought additional coolant but the diesel mechanic there was too busy to help me. I met my friend Steve and his friend Ray between Redmond and Bend and they checked the rig and thought it looked okay. It had stopped leaking by then. I drove to the Thousand Trails rv preserve near Sun River and parked the rig. Steve and I went out on Ray’s boat on East lake. They were fly fishing and caught some nice trout. I just enjoyed the beauty and company. The next morning I took Charlie to a boarding kennel. This is the first time Charlie has ever had to stay with strangers in a strange place. I don’t think he liked it but he survived. It’s probably a good thing for him to experience. I may have to do it again once or twice in my travels if I have to come back to Oregon for brief stops.

Steve and I then went to visit his friends Doug and Vickie in Sun River. We stayed at their beautiful home on the golf course. They are really great people. We rode bikes and went to an outdoor concert and just enjoyed the beauty of Central Oregon. One morning I was out enjoying the quiet and a fawn walked through the yard, followed by her mother.

On July 5 I picked Charlie up and headed south to meet my sister in California. I managed to make it to the Mt. Shasta area before the low coolant light came on again! No place to stop or pull over or get help until Weed. I bought a couple gallons of coolant and filled the reservoir. The rig continued to drip from time to time but not consistently. And the farther south I went, the hotter the weather got. I finally stopped in Corning and pulled into an rv park. It was excruciatingly hot -- I found out the next day it was 114 degrees. Even the locals were complaining about how hot it was. I plugged in, turned on the air conditioners and then went and jumped in the pool. After taking Charlie for a walk, I hosed him down.

Because I was only staying for the night I left the car hooked to the rv. I filled the entire space! The next morning I left around noon and drove into the Safeway parking lot a couple blocks away. There was also an auto parts store there and I was planning to get more coolant. Normally I would have walked the short distance from the rv park to the shopping center but it was already over 100 out. As I was trying to park, someone flagged me down. This was a big guy with long hair and tatoos. I thought, what the heck does this guy want!! He wanted to warn me. Somehow the pin that locked the tow bar to the car had been removed (I don’t know if someone had intentionally removed it or if it had just worked loose, but that doesn’t seem likely since it locks down), allowing the bar to come loose. The car was only attached on one side of the towbar. He tried to help me put it back together but we couldn’t do it. So we asked someone driving a fire rig to help. Bill and Bob worked quite awhile to get it back together and couldn’t. So I finally took everything apart and we discovered the tow bar had been bent when the car had come loose. Corning isn’t that big a town but they thought the muffler shop a couple blocks on the other side of the rv park might be able to straighten it. Bill, the guy who had first let me know of the loose tow bar was helping his grandmother shop for groceries and offered to give me a ride to the muffler shop when they were finished. I told him I could just take it myself. I offered him $5 for his time and help but he waved it off, telling me I should just say thank you to the Man Upstairs. I assured him I already had.

Rather than taking the bra off the car, I decided to just walk. Mistake. It was suffocatingly hot. But maybe that made me more sympathetic. Tim, who owned the muffler shop, couldn’t straighten the bar with the equipment he had but he had to go to the Napa auto parts store in town and offered to take me with him as he thought they would have the equipment necessary.

Apparently two of their machinists had just quit so no one was there to straighten the bar that day. Since I still had a long way to go to get to Potter Valley and it was after 2, I suggested I could leave the car there and pick it up on my way back to Oregon. Tim offered to let me park it in the parking lot at this muffler shop said he could find someone to straighten the bar so I left him my Saturn and my great thanks. I will swing back through next week. Sometimes you just know you can trust people.

So, without my dinghy I headed south and then west. At once point Charlie and I came across a huge field of sunflowers. Acres upon acres of them. What I found really interesting is that they were all facing the same direction. I presume they were facing the sun but I’m not sure which exact direction I was driving at that moment and so am unsure what direction they were actually facing. I wonder if sunflowers move their faces to follow the sun. We stopped for a brief time for Charlie to go wading in Clear Lake (which isn’t very clear at all!) because it was still incredibly hot. No problems with low coolant, though. Thank heavens!

I finally made it to Potter Valley around 6 pm. I parked the Mo in a large parking lot for the medical clinic my brother-in-law works at and left it there to go with them to their house while my sister packed and I grabbed a quick shower. We had dinner and then Colleen and Charlie and I headed south. Since we didn’t have my dinghy Colleen drove her car. We got to the rv park we were staying at north of Cloverdale around 10:30 so I got to back into a spot and hook up in the dark. Next morning we left fairly early but needed to fuel up. When I stopped at the gas station in Cloverdale I noticed my low coolant light was on again and the reservoir was almost empty. I had just put 2 gallons of coolant and at least one gallon of water in the day before. Coolant was running out of the engine like it was a sieve.

I asked if they had coolant at the station but they didn’t. Some guy hanging out there offered to come and look at the engine to see what he could see. I think he was a little out of it -- either drunk or high -- but what the heck. Well, he managed to see a pinprick hole spraying coolant. So I drove down the block to an auto parts store. One of the guys who works there came out to look and see how we might be able to patch it. A young many walked up and was observing what we were doing. I made some little crack about how big engines seem to capture men’s attention. He told me he was a diesel mechanic!!!! I couldn’t believe my ears. He and the shop guy talked about possible fixes. He thought it would be pretty easy to put in a patch. I told him if he had the time I had the money. He wasn’t sure he had his tools but if he did he said he’d be happy to help. I bought the patch kit and more coolant. When I came back out, he had his coveralls on and his tools laid out.

I asked him if he’d ever been told he was an answer to a prayer. He laughed and said he’d been accused of thinking he was God. I assured him he was a gift from God and that he could tell that to any young lady he might be trying to impress. He asked if we could get that on a video.

Just about that time a guy in a van advertising “mobile mechanic” drove up. Apparently someone at the auto parts store had called him. He was upset that someone else was helping me -- guess he thought he had a nice little paying job. So he asked the young man if he had a license to work on my rig. My newest angel, Matt, told him he was just helping a friend and didn’t need a license to do that. (Under his breath, Matt commented that he might not have a license but at least he had all his teeth!) The guy was pretty belligerent but I told him I was getting all the help I needed from a Good Samaritan and didn’t need him. Nor did I want his help; he didn’t impress me. He finally left, after whining and grumbling about Matt taking away his job.

In poking around, Matt discovered the radiator hose was in really poor shape and was literally falling apart. So we had to drain everything and pull the hose. We managed to find a hose at the auto parts store that would work. (I am getting WAAAYY to familiar with auto parts stores!) This young man spent more than two hours helping me fix my rig. It was amazing that a diesel mechanic just happened to show up at the exact moment I needed one. In talking with him I learned that he had brought his cousins to the recycling center adjacent to the parking lot where I was parked. They had been there the day before but the recycling center was closed. So while his cousins were turning in their cans and bottles, he decided to help me fix my Mo. He had just turned 29 the day before.

After he completely replaced my radiator hose and cleaned up all the spilled coolant, I offered to pay him and asked him how much would be fair. I don’t think for a minute he offered to help with the idea of getting paid, but rather just to help. I have no idea how much a diesel mechanic makes an hour. His cousins had made $38 on their recycling so he said “You got $38.50?” I was planning on giving him more and handed him two $20s and then offered him more. He refused. But I did give him a $25 gift card to Chili’s. This kid had spent more than 2 hours of his Saturday fixing my motor home and all he wanted was to match what his cousins had made from their recycling.

Just as we were finishing up Mr. Mobile Mechanic came by again. He kept trying to pick a fight with Matt, telling him, “Yeah, go ahead, hit me, you’ll go to jail,” and “I’m gonna call your boss and tell him you took a job away from me,” and similar garbage. I kept coming between them and pushing Matt toward his truck and telling him to leave, that this guy was a bully who wasn’t worth wasting time on. Finally I faced off with Mr. Mechanic and told him I had not called for his help or asked the auto parts store to, that he had no right to anything and that he should leave. He wasn’t wanted and he wasn’t needed and he had no business harassing people. He was very unhappy. Finally I convinced Matt and his cousins to get in their truck and leave and Mr. Mechanic finally gave up and left also. Later I called the auto parts store and told him about this guy’s behavior, that he was threatening to me and the young man who had offered to help me. So I found an angel and, unfortunately, also a selfish, spiteful, greedy old man.

So Colleen and I drove to Yosemite and while it wasn’t completely dark when we arrived, it was getting there quickly. But, no more incidences with coolant leakage or towbars breaking or other such things. Oh, except the little switch that turns the air conditioner and heater on broke off so I had to take the cover off the thermostat and now have to use my “leatherman” to turn the air on and off. Holy cow!!! Just when one thing gets fixed, another breaks. But at least this isn’t something that could cost me an engine! Just inconvenient.

More on Yosemite in the next post. This one is already way too long.

TravleinLady