Home is Every Where

My very first wish as a little girl was to 'go somewhere, anywhere.' After high school I began the first step by moving to Fresno and attending 4C's a vocational business school figuring that secretarial jobs could be had throughout the world. With my diploma in hand, my next move was to Washington, D.C. My career choice was sound, but my heart had other ideas and answered 'yes' to the first marriage proposal and returned to Merced, California. Thirty years later married to a true wanderlust, my address changed permanently to Wyoming. At least that's where we have our mail forwarded from to wherever we end up six, seven months of the year.

Bob and I have gone somewhere, anywhere every weekend, every summer during our working lives and since 2000 every other day or week or month finds us on the road. For 25 years we flew our 4seater Bonanza to points found on a map, or an article read in a magazine, or told about by another flying friend. Now, we travel in a 36-foot rv and are at home moving to at least four spots during the snowy months in Wyoming. We maintain our home in Afton, Wyoming, just in case or until the housing market is tilted to the seller again.

From the very beginning of my wandering day wherever I'm at my favorite activity is to scan the local newspaper for jobs, apartments, and articles of what to do in the area. I play 'what if?' Bob thinks I'm crazy, "You don't need a job," he reminds me. That's not the point. In my mind I'm imagining myself with a life in Monterey, Everett, Mobile, Juneau, Milwaukee, San Antonio, Yearington, Silver City, Miles City and the list would fill the page.

I once mentioned to a friend that my problem was that I was happy wherever I found myself. She commented that I must be easy to please. But, I don't agree. Once I begin to explore a place and see myself making a life where I'm staying at the present time, I see possibilities. (must confess to one place I couldn't get a grip, Lancaster, CA) It isn't that I didn't give Merced a try, nothing horrible happened there and I wasn't run out of town and still love to visit to see family. I was just felt more at home out-of-town.

Last July we became members of an Escapee rv park, Park of the Sierra. Escapee is an appropriate name since the members are on the road escaping to all parts of the country and the world. They were all born under the wandering star.
If we ever sell our place in Wyoming, then we have a place to park the rv and don't have to worry about reservations, and in the future when our traveling is more of a hassle than an adventure we have a place to sit and enjoy being part of a community that understands home is where you are at.

Park of the Sierra is organized as a co-op park. All the members take part in volunteering their skills and time to maintain the physical aspects, administrative needs, and the social activities of the park's residents. So, while we are here, there's no sitting on the couch wondering what others are dong. Here, we take part in our own way learning and doing to make it a real community.

I'm happy we now have two places, Afton and Coarsegold to call home, but with many places in between that are potential homes for us to explore. Because, afterall, if we ain't moving we might be missing something over the next hill.

Pismo Day

The number one reason to get up and out while I'm at Pismo Beach is to walk along the sea shore. Today the sea is a sapphire blue, it is calm, and the tides are barely a fringe along the sandy beach. Through the years, I counted them today, twenty-five, I have been walking along Pismo beaches.

The constant roar of waves little or huge crashing on the beach wipes out all the non-important chatter. Now days I walk alone. In the beginning Bob introduced me to taking long walks sometimes fast and efficient, sometimes romantic and slow with the moonlight as our guide. I miss walking with Bob.

Today, I think about how I would like to make friends with those I pass on the beach. We probably have a lot in common. Free time, a fondness for nature and solitude. Most of those whose paths I cross exchange smiles, others look away far away to the horizon or down at their feet. We all walk along the sea's border for our own reasons.

I'm always delighted to see a young jogger, tall,tan, muscular, young, wearing dark glasses, baggy shorts, sometimes long black hair jogs with him. They always smile. The boy from Inpanema . . . I probably remind him of his mother.

Four women, girlfriends for decades sit in comfortable beach chairs. The tailgate of their SUV, their outdoor bar. A huge red kite flies above their camp. One reads an Oprah book club pick. Two wrestle another kite and give up in favor of another gin and tonic. Two are gray and sagging. I am absolutely sure of their wisdom. Another has hair the color of pink champagne. I think she either is lots of fun or twits about too much, one or the other. The fourth has dark hair and is covered from head to toe. Maybe she had voted to spend the afternoon at the mall.
We exchange smiles, too.

Today I don't feel lonely during my walk. I feel alive. In the past, I have wanted to continue my walk to shores of Antarctica. Not today, 45 minutes going and returning, I've had a good day.

On the Road Again

October 25, 2010 Bob and I hooked up the yellow Jeep to the rv and cruised over the hill into Salt Lake City. We chose the right day to leave. The unusally warm autumn days left the night before and a chilly wind threatened snow soon. So, leaving our favorite place on earth, (for Bob only in the summer) wasn't as painful. We rved at the Mountain Shadow RV Park in Draper and arrived at our 8 am appointment at Camping World to check out our jacks. With the 'all go' sign, we were on the road again by noon.

I've taken over half the driving duties. Crossing the Salt Lake basin and Nevada were good wide throughfares for me to get the hang of driving the w i d e vehicle again. I stayed in the right lane and enjoyed the view. The rv is really easy to handle and very comfortable so after a few hours I was good to go, but not in the crowded Reno traffic, yet. Bob took over in Fernley and got us through Sacramento, too. I took over after spending the night at the Stockton Delta KOA - very nice resort on the Delta, and drove to Kettleman City. It was good to practice passing and dealing with merging traffic. Of course, with every hour of practice comes more confidence.

Bob was an excellent right seat passenger. Nary a word of discouragement. Sharing the driving is a good idea, but he has to be a very good driver so that I don't become the passenger from hell that I was wary he woud be. He is thankful to have a partner. It means we will be able to go more if we want to in the future. We both like to be the pilot in command, and have worked through those 'control' issues in the past -- with the main objective to make a smooth landing. So far so good.

Seventy degree weather and clear skies greeted us in Pismo. Ahhhh, that sea air reminds us of why we love it here. We are proud of the places we have found to call 'home.'

Pismo jazz starts Fri morning. Bob is jazzed and ready to have some fun. We will get our tickets this afternoon at the Vet's Hall.
The Good Old RV
When we stopped in Battle Mountain, we noticed the slide topper was mangled and a bit of the material was flapping. We decided not to try to fool with it in the middle of nowwhere - and stayed in a motel to forget the mess. The next night in CA, closer to help, we tried the slide and the topper straightened out. Apparently, it has come loose at one end and needs to be rewound, but is working. Then, when we set up the sewer hose in Pismo the gray water valve wouldn't open. Bob has just given me the all clear that it is open now - one of the joys of rving is that it is suppose to be like home --- indoor plumbing and all, so when the sewer hookups are a headache, it becomes too much like camping and is not all that much fun - been there, done that. But now I'm a happy camper.

I'm really glad Bob is feeling better - with the rv troubleshooting as a priority and listening to some live jazz he is motivated to move. I bought him another folding cane (he left his other one at Sylvia's) so he is ready to step out.

Mission Accomplished

Home on the range at last. We were able to get our slow leak fixed and found our way back to I-80 (after heading south on State Street, which runs the length of Utah) almost to Las Vegas!

Stopped at the post office for our first welcome, no names or numbers needed for Lucy to deliver our box of junk mail. Next, the market, where I met up with 3 folks I knew -- 3 more than I ever ran into in Merced! This morning I went to the hospital for a bloodtest and the receptionist remembered my name.

As we are catching up, the heater is running, thunder is clapping, and cold rain is falling. We are glad to be home for awhile, but I think Bob is taking notes on another trip. I heard him mutter "Nova Scotia."

For those wondering, Bob only came close to being thrown from the train, but his blue shirt was not so lucky.

And, we thought we knew it all . . . .

Of course, Bob and I expected to learn a few tricks to ensure our train ride was as comfortable and enjoyable as posssible. We just did not expect that the learning curve would extend throughout the entire trip. Here are a few tidbits that we found useful and interesting:





1. Always check baggage: Even though our largest suitcase of the two we took weighed a mere 30 lbs. and the other 15 lbs., lugging those two up stairs and into compartments builds muscles. We even checked a small duffel bag and only carried on a small tote, even for night rides. Nothing over 50 lbs. are allowed - no way, no how - we saw people throwing stuff out of their suitcases to reach the under 50 lb. limit.





LESS IS BETTER . . . Take 1/4 of what you think you need. I cut ours in half and we could have been just as styling with half of that.



Unless you are into learning the art of folding clothes. I'd rather learn oragami.



And, now knowing that Bob was perfectly happy wearing his special blue shirt for the entire trip. (I just found a picture from our trip to Florida years ago wearing the same shirt.)





2. Women's Lounge/ Dressing Area: Biggest and best secret. The area is roomy and the toilets stay cleaner. Not all trains have this special area. Ask the conductor or attendant





3. Freight companies own the rails: Since the freight trains rule, Amtrak is obliged to move over and allow the freight trains to pass. So, depending on the freight schedules and delays Amtrak follows their orders.





4. Security is not a concern: There are no screenings. But, on the commuter run from Seattle to Portland, a law enforcement officer and a K-9 labrador walked the aisles. Coincidentally, as they passed our seats, I was reading an article in USA Today about security checks on that particular run.



5. The attendant's job is to attend: The conductor's job is to supervise and collect passenger tickets. If you reserve sleeping rooms, you are privileged to be welcomed on board by your attendant. He or she will ATTEND to all your needs, i.e. dinner reservations, water, coffee, newspaper, preparing the beds, and answering all your questions. They will also 'go get' whatever you want, including meals. The attendants also attend to cleaning toilets, dumping trash, and whatever attending needs to be done.



We did not ask for a demo of what the roomette had to offer, but on our last ride, PJ gave us one. It would have been helpful on night one, but we thought we knew it all . . . and, Charlie was very busy. These attendants tend to run a lot. Those with smiles, goodies, and a 'can do' attitude collect well-earned tips that supplement their 6 days on (that's 24 hours a day) and 8 days off wages.



6. Overnight train trips are not like home: If you want home, stay put, or travel in a recreational vehicle. The train's job is to get from one point to another sometime. Just like the track isn't always smooth, the amenities of train travel are a bit bumpy, too. Maybe that's just like home, too.



Although, we heard throughout our trip that the Canadian Railroad experience - not the expensive tour train - but the one for ordinary folks- was A+. Four star food, cloth tablecloths, candy, fruit, drinks available throughout the train, movies and games for the passengers, etc. The beds were just as narrow and the shower was down the hall for all sleepers.



7. Community Dining was a delight: If given a choice, I always choose to eat by myself or with people I know in a communal setting like a cafeteria. I've learned to change my ways. Seating meals on a train is always community seating. For every meal in the dining car we met other couples, and one single, to share conversation and break bread together.



Since most of train travel is quiet and alone with whoever you boarded with, the chance to be social comes with meals - or hanging out in the bar car. Bob and I found ourselves looking forward to eating time not only because the food was good - and it was, but wondering who we would meet and learn from for the next hour or so.



We didn't meet any grumps. Most were older couples visiting kids, taking an extended holiday, or just loved trains.



For example, during our last dinner on the train from Reno to Salt Lake we met a couple from Ohio. The man's father had worked for the railroad his entire life and John had literally been born on a train. He hated flying, loved train travel and could sleep like a baby while riding the tracks.



Their trip would end in 30 days, they only had a week or so left. Here's what they had done: Road the Canadian Railroad from Toronto, ON, to Vancouver, BC, hopped off and enjoyed an Alaskan cruise through the inland passage. Rented a car in Seattle and drove down the coast and over to Yosemite (they were very impressed). They were on their way to Vail, CO, for a few days and then getting back on the train for home. They had stories, we had stories, and so did everyone we sat across from.

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I asked Bob for some input on what he had learned on this 45 day trek:
"I learned that the railroad tracks need to be smoother."

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I also learned again that Bob is happiest when he is moving on down the road. My one big surprise of the trip was how he was able to keep his mojo on track. He is, too. I have always known that to say no to fun is a mistake and that belief has been reaffirmed one more time on the Train Ride of 2010 with Bobby.

The Last Ride

September 6, 2010, 4:45 p.m. Amtrak pulled out of the Reno Depot. Bob and I held on tight facing each other in our fifth and final roomette. Eleven hours later we heard the whistle blow as we arrived in Salt Lake City. Our attendant, PJ, knocked at our door and, knowing the drill, we were ready to disembark in a less than five minutes.

As I waited for our baggage, I saw a full parking lot - a good sign - no building site in the lot I had parked the Jeep - and with a big sigh of relief, the yellow nose of the Jeep came into sight.

I delivered the baggage to Bob and ran across the street, thinking positive thoughts, 'the engine will turn over, no problem, no flat tires, no dead battery.' My hopes were granted. After reving up the engine I swung out of the lot and across the street in front of the station to pick up Bob. With the help of our gps and no traffic but us and milk trucks on I-15, we were at the Holiday Inn Express in four minutes.

We love Holiday Inn - they welcomed us with an early morning arrival and for the cost of one night's stay we don't have to check out until Wednesday at noon or even 2 p.m.,if we wish.

At noon today, we woke up, even though our last ride on the train was the smoothest of the entire 5,000 miles we logged on Amtrak. Maybe we were too twitterpatted to sleep soundly.

One of the tires was a little low, so we set out to find air - I won't write the rest of the story now, but an hour later we had gone to the Chevron Station - air machine did not work and to Jiffy Lube - who aired us up and recommended Les Schwab for a free tire check - we rode around until we were very lost - finally found our hotel - now have Les Schwab in the gps and will rest some more before going out alone tomorrow to the tire store then hit the 'home' button on gps, even though we know the way.

Maybe we do need the added rest time (and Holiday Inn knew that) or maybe we are out of practice of using our own time wisely - for the last six weeks we have reported for duty according to someone else's schedule.

The Grattans of Carson City

Sylvia met us with open arms at the Reno Depot and we cruised to Carson City to bother Joe for a few days. Bob definitely got the blue ribbon on planning the last week of our trip - being with Cindi, family, and Sylvia made me very happy.

We did our usual - talk, eat, shop - how many times do I need to repeat those 3 words? I chose not to take pictures of us standing in line with our baskets full of bargains to give you the full effect.

We discussed our fixed-income status and the idea of visiting a museum or taking a hike were a few ideas that might keep our accounts balanced - but only if Marshalls or Tuesday Mornings close their doors for good.

Joe is feeling better and requested his favorite, "cheeseburger and fries," Bob got one too, so Joe wouldn't be eating alone, sure, while they watched baseball games on tv.

The Grattan's place has become our way station as we travel between California and Wyoming no matter what our route in between. In October we will be coming this way again - to pick up those bags I couldn't stuff into the suitcases, (I almost left the suitcases, too - but thought maybe we will need them in Salt Lake) and to check in with friends and have the best time ever.

Leaving California

Reno Train Station

The noon train departed on time and we were on our way to Reno. Our California visit was just what our hearts needed. Surrounded by family for a few days we lost our train sway of walking and our rattled bones were calmed for awhile. We were ready to rattle on the rails again.

Sacramento Train Depot

The gold in those foothills crinkle, they are thirsty and hard to find the beauty as the train climbs into the forests of the Sierra. Along the way out-side Sacramento, Roseville, and Auburn we see other towns, without names. Small tents, pieces of plastic, piles of bags, blankets draped over trees, and trash that got away by people who live between the track and I-80. In between the settlements are broken down sofas, mattresses, and other stuff no one wants.

Only a few others joined us on our ride to Reno. We looked forward to the half day trip, our two Trader Joe salads, and thankful that the loudspeaker was broken.

The view changes as we climb away into the mountains. On so many trips, too many to keep track of, Bob and I have followed the creep of the train coming or going across the Sierra and we always wanted ride between Sacramento and Reno just to speed through the snow tunnels.

Green is good, but I think traveling the Sacramento to Reno route would best be done in January - with a blizzard in the forecast.

Bob and I can smell home, 2 more departures, one more arrival. Will our Jeep be there?

A Camera Tip

I've been using my Sony Cyber-shot DSC - W170 every day shooting over 1,000 pictures in the last 35 days. It probably has been banged around more than most cameras in a short period of time. At Scott's last night as I was snapping away, the lens decided to go out, go in, go out and a message came up on the screen. "Turn off the power and turn power on" flashed. We followed the instructions, but no joy. No way would it take a picture.



With less than a week to go before we arrived home, somehow I had to get the camera fixed. What fun is a blog without photos?



The Internet has changed our lives. I googled Sony, my camera model, and found the page to troubleshoot. Guess what, others have had the same problem. I didn't have much hope that the printed solution would work, others had remarked that it had not, but I tried anyway.

The instructions were to bang the bottom of the camera, with the power on, pretty hard on a table top. Whoola! it worked. I'm back in focus.

Scott and Karen and Chester of Fair Oaks

Scott and Karen and their cat,
Chester, who is the boss, were the next stop for dinner. We love those homecooked meals created with fresh veggies from the garden. Karen made a delicious roasted chicken, and added steamed zucchini, corn on the cob, and tomatoes from the garden, topped off with her signature brownies. Soooo good! We are getting spoiled. Thank You!!

Since I don't get to see Karen and Scott very often, I want to know everything they are doing and going to do. Scott's work with the Water Resource Department, Flood Management Division, is very interesting and very necessary, especially in levee country.

Karen is feeling well and looking forward to a vacation in Lake Tahoe the end of September. She feels much better at higher altitudes. Karen is inspired to begin painting the interior of their house, maybe Scott will catch some of her energy?!

Chester became acquainted with Bob and let him stay for dinner. Chester has his own chair with rollers so he can be comfortable throughout the house.

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Since it was Scott's turn to cook Wednesday, they invited us to dinner again, and we gladly accepted - out to Danielle's Crepes, a favorite of ours that Scott and Karen introduced us to a year ago. We highly recommend it if you are in the Fair Oaks area.

We said, 'goodbye,' with plans to get together in the Fall.

Our visits with our families in Fair Oaks and Rocklin have given us a 'love' boost that will make getting on the train tomorrow easier.

Two more departures and arrivals!

Doing Lunch With An Air Force Buddy

Bob called his longtime Air Force buddy, Gene, who lives in nearby Gold Hills, to meet for lunch. Fifty-five years ago they served together at Dow Air Force Base in Bangor, Maine. Gene gave Bob a tour of old Mather Air Force Base after lunch. They had lots to talk about while Brenda disappeared.

A Visit in Rocklin with the Holm's Family

Throughout our adventure, Bob and I have looked forward to jumping off the train in Sacramento (not the 5:30 a.m. part) to visit the Holm Family in Rocklin.

Luckily, we caught Kelly, Greg, Rachel, and Christian during their busy work and school schedules and had a whirlwind visit. Kelly and Greg have been very busy completing bathroom remodels that should be showcased on HGTV.

Rachel is a senior at Cal State, Bakersfield, and Christian a senior in high school, so this was a special treat to see the entire family!

Speaking of treats, Kelly's sweet homegrown tomatoes , Greg grilled-to-perfection steaks, and Rachel's to-die-for chocolate chip cookies were appreciated by two hungry travelers. I have to add that Christian was hard at work completing his homework.

It might be a mistake to feed us so well - our next extended trip may be akin to a progressive dinner party sharing meals with family and friends - sounds like a winner, for us!

Thank you for your hospitality and love, and a stash of warm cookies!

The Pigotts of Keno, Oregon

Fred and Cindi Pigott of Klamath Falls, Oregon, have been our friends for just about forever, for Cindi and I over 30+ years. Cindi is a psychiatric nurse and Fred is the 'house god' and a darn good one, too! I must also add that they are the official Mrs. Claus and Santa Claus for the Klamath Basin!

After more than thirty days on the rails, we needed some friends, even for just a day. Cindi and Fred are true friends - who else would pick up a couple of tired souls at 10 p.m., have a bed ready, and the next day clear their busy schedules for a marathon of talking, eating, talking, eating, laughing, sharing the events since we had last spent time talking, eating, talking, eating, laughing?

Cindi is a knitter, too, so we knitted, lost stitches together, and knitted some more. It was a really busy day.

They live in Keno, near the Klamath River on a few acres and enjoy the amenites of growing a garden, raising chickens and knowing all their neighbors. Wanda, a neighbor, stopped by to let Fred know one of his chickens was on the road and she had given up chasing it.

Cindi shared her homemade feta cheese, hand-picked berries in a homemade pie and Fred honored us with bar-b-qued ribs (with a special sauce, no doubt), fresh picked beets and green beans (purple until they're cooked) Home Grown Delicious, cooked with love, eaten with passion!

At the end of the day, Cindi delivered us to the station - the train would be on time - darn, but we would meet again soon, for sure.

Bob and I slept better than other night on our trip and I know the reason why. Good friends, good food, good laughs, and a promise we would be together soon. Who wouldn't feel content with a day of home grown friendship?

Did I hear that correctly?

2:00 p.m. to 10:00 p.m. Saturday - Portland to Klamath Falls

My listening skills have become much more acute - or is that eavesdropping skills - in the last thirty days. I have noticed that my ears catch phrases and sentences as I walk or sit near others who are having conversations, and my imagination takes over.

Great fodder for stories or just to wonder: The Storytellers and the Listener

Our seats were assigned for the trip from Portland to Klamath Falls, Oregon. Behind Bob and I sat a man and a woman, strangers until they boarded. He promptly announced to his seatmate, "I am going to sleep the entire way. If I snore, and I promise, I will, just nudge me." She agreed to comply, but asked one question, "You're going to Klamath, too?"

Not a moment of silence, not a snore was snorted the entire 8 hour trip. (Perhaps a bit of an exaggeration, Bob and I left our seats to the quiet of the observation car for part of that time, but I would be willing to bet they did not take a breather, a nap, nor a bathroom break.)

For a person who loves to hear people talk, I was fascinated. Every aspect of each of their lives were revealed: childhood, school years, college, first jobs, last jobs, military experience, marriages, children, step-children, parents, religion, spouses' employment, fun times, bad times, best times, every time in their lives. Susan even offered to share her "blankie", but Paul declined.

The woman, Susan, asked Paul most of the questions and he answered with stories complete with beginning, middle, and ending. She rounded out each phase with her own story or summarized what he shared.

I remember: that Paul had won $17,000 in one night in Las Vegas - he shared the rest of story about how he lost most of it -

I think both were storytellers and loved to talk, question, and what was so unusual is that both listened to each other - I did not detect any interruptions, any hesitancy, any exasperation's during their exchanges, only acceptance. Maybe the art of conversation is not dead!

I remember: that Susan had been a dance major in college, but returned to college after she turned 40 to become a nurse. She now only dances in church. At one point she prayed for Paul.

When the conductor announced we were now in Klamath, I thought for sure there would be a big hug, "see you soon." But, "goodbye" was said in unison, their last word together.

I wonder, since they both live in Klamath Falls, if they meet each other on the street or in the market, will they be able to continue with their day's plan when asked, "how you doing?"

I felt privileged (and, of course, pretended not to have heard a word) to share in their 8 hour talkathon - and even though Susan possessed a witch's cackle laugh ( at times and I wished and prayed that Paul would not say anything funny for Susan to respond to) - I would not have minded sitting in the middle.

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10:00 p.m. Sunday night

Klamath Falls Amtrak Station sitting on the pews waiting for the train to arrive:

Sitting directly behind me was an elderly lady, about as big as a lady bug, dressed in a black velvet pantsuit, trimmed in gold braid, complete with a velvet beret.

She began her conversation with the gentleman sitting next to her, apparently a friend of a friend who had given her a ride to the station,

"I never rode a train in the USA until I was forty, but I had ridden trains in England, Russia, Africa, and Asia when I was much younger." No response.

She continued, "In London, for my first train ride as a young woman, I was so excited. I asked a man who was standing nearby to please take my picture since this would be my first ride on a train. He went to great lengths to make sure I stood just right in front of the huge locomotive. I said, 'thank you very much,' and we both went our separate ways.

"Within a few minutes a young man ran up to me calling, 'stop, stop,' and put into my hand an emerald, a good size emerald that I have to this day."

No questions, nothing - I wanted to jump over that bench and sit at her feet, "tell me more, tell me more." (Even if it was a 'once upon a time' story)

Her friend did have his own story which he mumbled about meeting General McCarthy's daughter at a train station, but he added no details. The lady waited, and added a few more tidbits, "I've met many famous people, like the time that President Eisenhower bought me a glass of wine. And, the time I had my picture taken with Bishop TuTu in South Africa."

She then encouraged him to get on home to his wife and that she could wait on her own since the train would be here soon.

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Portland Street People

The heart of Portland is more than just the inner city. There is something more here that sets it apart from Chicago, Milwaukee, and the Twin Cities. In each city I practiced observing the people as I walked to see what I could see. Besides, cheap entertainment, I got some exercise, had some conversations and would return to any of these big cities anytime.

In Portland I saw the interaction of street people, people who really do live their lives on the street with tourists, businessmen and women, students, families, everybody. A couple of words describe my observations: tolerance, acceptance. We were all in close contact, but not touching, not talking, moving around each other - like a fast dance.

Images that I will remember

Young girls on different corners, 20ish, sitting on the sidewalk surrounded by backpacks, pillows, shoes - very organized - kind of like they all belonged to a club with the same set up. The girls sat alone, not in groups, and did not hold signs, money cans, or ask for money.

Young guys, also 20ish, but in groups of two or three huddled with their stuff, but always with a sign, some creative like, "visions of pizza." The boys also made noise either drumming the same beat over and over again on plastic buckets or talking loud to be seen and heard. All had a container to drop money in.

Older women, no teeth, wrapped in blankets with their money can rattling, usually near the light rail. They always tried to get our attention.

An agitated man, with hair out of control to match his actions. He was washing his bloody forearms (looked scratched and picked at) in a fancy four spout drinking fountain on street corner. He was ranting to the people nearby who were waiting for a bus. I was going in the same direction and followed him as he walked around City Hall scratching his arms. I assume drug use is rampant here.

A teenage boy asking for 25 or 50 cents from people on the light rail. He worked the entire car without any givers, some nodded 'no' others just turned away. I had seen him the day before, but he had gotten a $1 from a woman.

A young woman and her baby sat nearby at a coffee shop. As she got up to leave and began packing up all her baby stuff, I made a comment that I remembered hauling all that stuff many years ago. She said offhandedly, "I'm homeless. I won't be able to leave a tip for the girls." And, then she was out the door. The waitresses came over and said they were going to buy her food - but she had left the money on the table. She had told them the same thing like she had said, "I'm from out of town." They had never seen her before. She had Gerber's for the baby, both were clean and looked like they were in town for a day of shopping.

After that encounter, I noticed many more young women with big backpacks, or pulling suitcases on rollers carrying a baby or pushing a stroller. The scene made me take a second look wondering if they were at home on the street.

A man sitting on the sidewalk across from Powell's Books taking up most of the corner with cartons of leftover food, bags of stuff, and items like an ipod wrapped with duck tape and a radio. He was very busy organizing his space. The crowds just circumnavigated his area.

I didn't notice as many older men. Any that I did see were going someplace with a purpose, not lingering like the others.

To understand what I think about these situations, I'll need some time and more information.


Otherwise, the others were busy on their iphones, either playing games, texting, or talking. As I mentioned earlier, many read books at the transit stops. Many people eating and drinking in groups or alone at the many, many outdoor cafes and pubs. The most crowded store was Nordstorm Rack. (guess how I knew?)

Another Beautiful Day in Portland

We have lucked out with the outstanding weather, clear and cool, during our visits to the big cities. Portland is no exception. Today I headed to the Portland Art Museum downtown.

I was ready not to watch the people, but look at some art. The museum is in the 'cultural district' where the history museum is located, plus a few live theatres and bistros. A beautiful park with statues and fountains - blooming roses - separate the buildings. About 50 skateboarders were hanging out enjoying the cement around the fountain.

The museum, like all I have visited, is a wonderful place full of masterpieces. Portland's museum has exquisite exhibits of Asian and Native American art plus many modern pieces, four floors worth. I stayed the entire afternoon.

On the fourth Friday of the month from 5-8 pm, entrance is free, plus there's free food and music. I was on my way out when I saw the crepe caterer and a string quartet setting up. But I had shopping to do or more walking.

I headed to Lloyd's Center - a huge enclosed shopping area east of Williamette River and near the Convention Center. I was surprised to see an ice rink in the middle of the mall filled with skaters! It was a cool place to be in more than one way. Throughout the mall are very comfortable chairs, usually in pairs with a small table in between. Many were occupied with people sharing conversations, having drinks and snacks.

Today I noticed police out and about more than yesterday. On foot, on bikes, on segways, in cars - they were everywhere.

Tomorrow we leave Portland in the early afternoon and, hopefully, arrive in Klamath Falls at 10:00 p.m. Cindi and Fred will be there to meet us and we can't wait for a visit in a living room, no take out, with some great friends.

Portland

Portland is easy to maneuver as long as you know which way you are going, north, south, east or west, that is. I caught the free light rail intending to walk throughout the town and ending up at Powell's Bookstore, the largest independent store in the USA! Digital boards inform riders of rail and bus information. Portland is a moving city, not only on public transit, but many walkers, bikers and skateboarders (both ride on the sidewalk) and, of course, cars and trucks.

I thought I was following the map, but nevertheless, enjoying the sights and sounds of the city almost gave up my quest --- and just around the corner I found Powell's. It was all I had dreamed it to be - 4 or more floors, full shelves everywhere, well-marked, only the sound of turning pages - filled with readers.

A few observations as I spent the afternoon walking:

An Italian Festival in Pioneer Square, free with food and singing, dancing and grape crushing going on for three days

Recycling very accessible. Billboards, store fronts promoting 'green' efforts

Woman riding a bike with a small covered trailer delivering 'take out' from area restuarants

Small cars advertising 'wheels when you need them' - looked like people who ride bikes or take public transit rent the car when they need different wheels.

Portland has a Chinatown

Many more homeless people than other cities, most striking - the young girls who were camped out with all their stuff on the street - and boys, one had a sign "visions of pizza"

Good place to people watch. Usually I take pictures of the outside art, but in Portland the sculptures are here, rather subtle and subdued. The people were more interesting, but my camera doesn't have a good zoom and it's not too cool to get in their faces. Although, I did see people with camera sitting on benches (many places to sit in Portland) zooming in on people.

Lots of music - like drumming on 5 gal. plastic buckets, violin

At the bus and rail stops people reading - didn't see that in the other cities

City center filled with top brand stores: Tiffany & Co., Saks, Nordstorm, Coach, Brooks Brothers, etc. - a few blocks away another "mall" with the same high end stores --

A block of individual "roach coaches" selling any kind of food you want - all painted in different colors and resembled playhouses

Was asked for directions more than once - do I look like I know where I'm going?

Got the feeling people are very tolerable, accepting - considering the diversity of the people within the city.

Many young people - University of Portland within city limits - ? Or, they like the social life - many cafes, bars, - seemed like a lot of groups of 3 or 4 doing the city.

Play a Little Music

The piano is one of 8 that are placed in public places around Everett, like the library, cafes, a few businesses, etc. The pianos are decorated and are real street art. As I've traveled on this trip - street art has really captured my attention and delighted me whenever I find it, by accident.

No one played while we waited for our train, darn!

We rode the Cascade, a commuter train between Bellingham (northern WA) to Portland. We had a movie, if you had earphones, leather seats, a table and a very quiet ride - even though the passengers seemed to be mostly students.

Although, we began the ride sitting across from a retired couple from Arizona who had lived in the Seattle area and shared their experiences of sailing their boat in the Sound. - Then sat across from a young man, 28, who shared info about his job of auditing companies who want to be certified as using natural resources in a responsible sustainable way - like certifying organic foods, kind of. He had an interesting backstory -- I am getting really good at asking questions finding out stuff - good thing this was a short ride.

Bob is napping, but we are in city center near the free light rail and free street car lines so I plan on hitting the town soon.

POWELLS , the biggest bookstore in the whole world is here - page me when the train is here!

Over the Sea and Through the Woods

5:00 a.m. comes early, but we were in the ferry line to cross the inlet from Whidbey Island to Port Townsend at 6:30 a.m. along with about thirty other drivers.

Instead of touring Port Townsend (a place that warrants at least a day of checking out) we headed to Port Angeles to enter Olympic National Park.

The entrance to the park is just a few miles from town and a road leads to Hurricane Ridge, 17 miles from the entrance, for an inside view of the park and outside view of Mt. Rainer, Mt. Baker and the Puget Sound - spectacular. GREEN TREES WITHOUT A BREAK FOR AS FAR AS YOU CAN SEE!

We had flown near the peaks on trips to Whidbey or Friday Harbor or Alaska in the past, and knew the Olympic range must be a wonderland. There are more glaciers there than anyplace in the lower 48 (funny, that was not mentioned at Glacier Park)

Washington is not called the Evergreen State for nothing. We didn't see any signs of the rust beetle disease that is killing the trees in the Rockie Mountain west.

The forest is full of trails - not crowded - not commercial - no inns - The road ends at the vista point - that's it. If you want, and if we had time we would, you can travel 101 around the park making a loop ending at the bottom of the peninsula.

We had a plan to visit three parks: Olympic, Rainier, and Cascade.

Park #2 to Rainier, about a 2 hour drive through the back roads of WA, crossed a toll bridge into Tacoma and headed east through some small towns and into more trees. Rainier National Park is the MOUNTAIN - which you can see better from Puyallup (about 30 miles west of the peak) Mountain climbers love it.

We entered the park through a dark forest of cedars, redwoods, and ferns - a lot like northern CA - the road to Paradise, where the big visitor's center is located was being worked on and there was a notice that the parking lot was full! Remembrance of Glacier Park's parking facilities. I think many, many Americans decided to visit their parks this summer.

Rainier Park bows to the mountain. It feels like an old place with the thousands of years old trees, not much commercial, lots of trails (that's good) - even though it is a short drive from Seattle there isn't much happending outside the park either, a few cafes, a few, very few motels and that's it. Looks like a good place to get away if you are a hiker.

Anyway, we had a short visit - and skedaddled north to get to Cascade National Park - which was closer to Everett where we would be staying the night and catching the train today.

Best laid plans - we should know better than to be marathon visitors, anyway) Rush hour traffic slowed us down and encouraged us to be thankful we don't have to stop and go every day to work and back home again.

We figured it means another trip to Whidbey and a day trip to the Cascades and Port Townsend. I clocked 700 miles on the rental car - so I'd say we got around.

The Way to Whidbey Island

Discovered an obituary in the Sunday Spokane Spokesman-Review:

Kirk, Lois Sheeley

Date of Birth 4-11-1953

Date of Death Still open, but between today and two months.

(next to her picture) BLOOM WHERE YOU ARE PLANTED

I was surprised by the announcement, thinking those close to her would know her fate, if she is terminally ill, or maybe no one knew and this is her way of getting the word out to as many people as possible in the community. Perhaps, she wanted to share her philosophy in a very real way to make readers think about their own mortality. For whatever reason, I got her message, loud and clear.

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Bob figured out how to turn off the bright overhead light in our roomette compartment, (there is a switch,). Besides finding the dark, the train from Whitefish to Everett rolled along on smooth tracks so sleeping should have been easier. But because of extenuating circumstances like our compartment door off its tracks - almost sent us off our track when we couldn't open it in the middle of the night to go pee! And, the squeakiest brakes on the Amtrak, like fingernails clawing a chalkboard, sounding off around every corner - remember we were going downhill through the mountains, lots of corners. Our steward was a substitute borrowed from the commuter line and he wasn't into the customer service that we had become accustomed to, nor did he get a tip. He wasn't concerned at all about the door's lack of cooperation. We aren't giving up - we will be back at the station on Wednesday.

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Anyway, arrived in Everett in the rain, and the coolest weather since we left Afton. Paid our $25.00 to the taxi driver for a ride to Budget car rental and found our way to Whidbey via the Deception Pass Bridge - too beautiful for words or pictures. All of you must come here to see for yourselves.

Twenty-five years ago, on our way home from Alaska and getting married, we spent four days on the island. Yesterday we drove out to Captain Whidbey Inn where we spent those days. Long ago, our first night there and after a long flight, Bob ordered a martini as big as a basketball - the chef brought out the biggest snifter glass Bob had ever seen and drank every last drop!

The island is as rural and picturesque as we remember it when we looked for property back in the early 90's, before Afton. There are a few more housing developments, but none take out the views, woods, or hay fields.

Bob and I drove all over the island and found Coupeville and Langley, two seaside villages worth a few hours to walk the main streets of ice cream shops, YARN shops, and eateries.

We are staying at the naval base. Last time we were in the Admiral's quarters, and this time we must have kicked out a Rear Admiral - three rooms, 2 tvs, frig/mircrowave, panoramic views of the bay - like Bob says, 'the Navy knows how to take care of their troops.'

Our plan is to take the ferry from Keystone to Port Townsend, a place we have only driven through on past trips, and explore the town and get into Olympic National Park, as much as time allows. The ferry was booked today so tomorrow we have made reservations for 7:15 am - we will see.

We drove out to Keystone terminal to buy our tickets and get the low down on loading for the 30 minutes ride across the inlet. Plan A: visit 3 national parks tomorrow! Olymic, Rainier, and Cascade - we plan on seeing the sign and buy some postcards, and say we've been there.

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BOB LOVES GREEK SALAD! and he loves that blue shirt!