Glens Ferry, Rain and Wind

West of Evanston, we drove through wind, rain and cold, and lots of lowered visibilities. At one point, I shouted “Look Dear!” Marsha was afraid I’d done something silly, but I was pointing out a break in the clouds that seemed to extend for miles. It was just outside Glen’s Ferry Idaho, and there was a camp ground at Three Islands.

We had despaired of camping because the weather was so crummy, so this looked like a welcome development. The campground was gorgeous, with lots of nice trees and a view of the Snake River. Most of the campsites were reserved for the coming weekend, but available to weekday campers like us.

We were able to set our tent up in dry weather, but by the time we got back from the grocery with beer and wood (and some other, less essential supplies) it was blowing and raining. I have a 10x10 tarp that I tied to the kayaks and held up on the other side with telescoping poles and guy lines. The rain immediately started to puddle in the middle and pull it down, so Marsha held it while I rigged a center pole with a hiking stick, camp box, and our soggy box of Duraflame logs. The wind was blowing rain in from the side, so I rigged another tarp on the side between the tree and the car.

This was cold wet work, and about the time I was finishing up, a woman from a nearby RV came over and asked if we would like some hot stew. We immediately accepted, gratefully. With the wind blowing like it was, it would have taken a long time to heat dinner on our camp stove.

The stew was yummy, and after we cleaned the dishes, we took them back. The lady (Cindy) was camping (if you call staying in an RV with a satellite dish camping) with her husband and a couple friends. I explained how we were traveling from Florida to Washington, camping along the way, and how while we don’t know what the future holds, we trust in God that all will work out, and how we thought Cindy was an angel, or nearly so.

The rain eventually stopped, so we up-ended a picnic table as a windbreak near the fire pit, and were able to watch the sunset with our backs toasty warm from the fire while the rest was a bit chilly. The sunset was glorious.

I was pretty tired of the mattress cooling off and sagging in the middle of the night, so this time I rigged an extension cord with the pump and left the pump in the tent. Apparently it was cold enough when I filled the mattress that it did not shrink much, as the mattress did not sag. It f igures. I had also prepared for rain in the morning by bringing our ponchos into the tent. All night long, we could hear the wind roaring through the trees.

Morning brought glorious views of sunrise, and no rain, but lots of wind. We teamed up to pack the tent, stepping on stuff so it would not blow away. Buttercup came with heated seats, and we would have not taken them if they were an option. We didn’t even know if they worked, but we found out today. What a luxury to be shivering and have your seat warmed in a friendly way!  Alas, it was windy on the Snake too, so we dispensed with the idea of wetting the kayaks. Happiness is coffee.

There are so many cool places to explore in Oregon, but our break from the rain soon ended, and it became clear from the forecasts that our initial plan to go to Bend was one that might need tire chains. It is a little weird to go from loading a 130 degree POD to contemplating tire chains in a few short weeks.

The sun is long gone, replaced by mist. Trucks are leaving contrails of spray and the wipers are getting a workout. This is PNW, for sure. 

 Here’s a picture of the sign near Deadman’s Pass. This area has a number of runaway truck exits that direct a truck up a hillside. All of these have tire tracks. Puts one in mind of “30,000 pounds of bananas”.

On our drive, we remarked to each other how much our faith has enabled connections with people who come into our lives. Sharing faith as a common bond helps us feel connected to people in a way that simply contemplating our common humanity does not.  This is a wonderful gift, and we are grateful.

We bonded with Jeff and Julie Brown 20 years ago working on a Marriage Encounter after-weekend experience. In a way, we grew up in ME together. Julie and Jeff watched our children while we went to Hawaii on our 10-anniversary honeymoon trip, and we have see their family grow and shared visits in Wichita, Kearney NE, Seattle, Salem OR, and Florida. We are now on our way to see J&J, and several of their 8 children will be home this weekend. We can’t wait. 

Flaming Gorge

We stopped at the visitors’ center in Utah. We explained that we were looking for campgrounds at Flaming Gorge. There were not many on the map. The nice lady explained that there were lots, but they were closed for the season.  The nice place was Dripping Springs, which she said we would really enjoy.

It was raining constantly. Hard, soft, in between. We looked hopefully for some break in the clouds, and saw what looked like a break in the direction we were going.

The roads twisted and wound, but nothing like the sphincter-clenching drop-offs of Colorado. After one missed turn, we finally arrived at the Dripping Springs campground. The place looked like Mordor from the LOTR movies. There had been a fire some time ago, and every tree had burned, leaving a charred carcass. The rolling hills of the campground were surrounded by the more forbidding sharp upslopes of the area, and they were enveloped in mist. The wind was 20-30. This did not look like fun to us, so we abandoned the campground with regret. Flaming Gorge is truly an extraordinary place, and must have been a delightful sight before the fire.

We popped for another motel, in Evanston WY. All of the great camping we envisioned in Utah and Idaho looks like we’d collide with early season storms. So we are likely to go west from Salt Lake City and see what northern Nevada has to offer.

So far, through rain, wind, missed turns, and disappointments, we have had about 10 minutes of being grumpy with each other. That seems remarkable to me. We flow really smoothly as a team, and setting up and breaking camp has become fairly easy. We marvel at how well we work together, and look forward to finding ways to help other couples enjoy the teamwork that makes this journey so much fun.

Rocky Mountains National Park

There is no way to describe the Rocky Mountains National Park to do it justice. The aspens are turning, gold, orange, occasional red. 


Driving though, we were still enjoying the care package from Brian and Gina.


 We camped just outside at Lake Granby. We had purchased sleeping bags (thanks, Greg!) at our favorite emporium. Camp was set up in time to enjoy grand vistas, etc. 


There was no water at camp, which meant no bathrooms, a fact that came to our awareness after our tent was set up and we found out the pit toilet at the boat ramp was 1/8 mile away. No worries, until the wee hours of the morning when nature demands the return of the fruit of the vine. It got down to about 32, and we had frost on our gear. We also had a nice cool walk at 3 am. But – the stars were fantastic, the Milky Way clearly visible.

We drank wine and ate rice and beans, cherry tomatoes and peppers from Gleasons, and read old dialogue books until dark by a roaring fire. I don’t want to part with the dialogue books. In an intensely personal way, they describe our journey from hallway sex to powerful love. (Hallway sex is part of a joke, not printable. Call for details).

Now we are headed for Flaming Gorge recreation area. 

Waffle House Chef Salad

From the Great Smokies we drove Tennessee and into Arkansas, having agreed to push on and get a motel room with shower!!!!, before we presented our stinky selves to our friends and relatives in Wichita.

Just outside Little Rock, we stopped. The best dinner option looked like the Waffle House. We had never been to a Waffle House. After perusing the menu with wonder, Marsha ordered a Chef Salad. The waitress said “What would you like on your Chef Salad?” This was a question she had not anticipated. So Marsha said, “well, what normally comes on a chef salad”. The waitress said “what’s that?”, so Marsha explained that it was usually ham and cheese and some vegetables, and hardboiled egg. Off she went, and soon we were presented with a most unusual chef salad.

There was lettuce, for sure. And ham bits. And torn up slices of American cheese. And chopped tomatoes, radishes, and carrots, onions, and hardboiled egg. And canned mushrooms. And dill pickle slices. And black olives. And jalepeno peppers.  Marsha was advised that she could not have blue cheese dressing. By this time, she was so taken with the salad she didn’t care. It was a wonder. It was wonderful. What a delightful piece of Americana. Our compliments to the chef.

ICT

Oklahoma is one of those states you drive through with some relief that you are not actually going to stay there. We got turned around in Tulsa when gypsy (our GPS navigator) chose some closed roads. I got frustrated and gripy. That was the first time I got pissed off since we started this trip. I drive erratically when mad. Marsha was uncomfortable. We had to stop. After a few minutes, we came up with a strategy and away we went, away from Oklahoma. Hurray!

Wichita means family and friends. Our age-old problem is: how do you see everyone you want to see? The answer is, you can’t, especially if your stay is only a day. Our first stop was at John Frisch’s house, where we were treated to the latest of a series of extraordinary photos that John takes at Chisholm Creek Park. Look for John’s pictures on flickr.com. We rotate friend visits in Wichita stops, and were able to see Joe and Kerry Seiwert and Tim and Mary Kay Chavez on Friday night and Saturday morning.

Staying with the (Mike) Frisches is always an adventure because the house is so full of action. We added ourselves to the fast-moving life of a house with two parents, six kids, two dogs, and a cat. We wondered if Plumbob would take a look at us and run away so we would not take him away, but Plum greeted us warmly when we showed up Friday night late. He did not disappear until we actually left, then he was nowhere to be seen.

Bill and Pat Bell were warm and welcoming . Pat took off Saturday morning for a lunch date with us, and we were able to catch up. Bill is working wonders in stained glass, and presented us with two beautiful windows that were intended for our Florida home but now will live in our new abode.

 During our Saturday lunch with Bill and Pat, we got a call from Denise Elder offering us a bed in Pittsburg KS. Mike and Denise were the very first couple to work with us on our Marriage Encounter talks. Marsha and I reminisced about how we fought on the way to their house because we were so uptight about being on time. We were abhorred by being 10 minutes late, and when we came into their house, they promptly put us to work washing dishes and folding the laundry that was all over the living room. We marveled that they could be so relaxed about appearances when people were coming to their house. It was a valuable lesson for us, one that we hold to this day. If you wait to have people over until your house is perfect, you will lose many opportunities to visit. And the kind of people who would be put off by a little mess you probably don’t want at your house anyway. A good life lesson for us.

Fr. Chuck Gallagher said that it is not the food, not the décor, not the clean perfection of a house that makes it welcoming, but the affection among the the members of the household. He is so right. Our favorite places to visit are often short on gourmet meals, fancy china or dust-free perfection. There is something about being welcomed into a happy family that has no earthy substitute. I envision heaven as a huge,  extended happy family.

Saturday evening was a cheerful crazy mix of Frisches, Hendersons, Weesners (Steve), and various friends of the above who wandered in and out. Mike cooked up a feast of kabobs and we ate and talked forever. Every time we visit Wichita, we feel the gravitational pull of our families. We wish we could be there more, or have them where we are.  

Sunday morning we arose early and headed to Salina for early Mass and brunch with Marsha’s brother  Brian and his wife Gina. They were very honoring and cooked a wonderful brunch. Brian helped with some house paperwork that we needed to get to the bank. We got to hear of the exploits of Bethany, Brian’s daughter, who is now 18 and very independently minded. Brian and Gina sent us off with a care package of grapes, meat and cheese, crackers and homemade cookies.

Most of Sunday was driving through Western Kansas (see my note about Oklahoma above) on our way to Boulder to visit Kevin Gleason and his wife Ilene. Kevin is my oldest friend, and we worked together as  apprentice janitors at St. Thomas Aquinas grade school. We had adventures together through high school and college, and nearly died together on Fall River reservoir when the Snipe we were sailing had a rudder attach failure and capsized.  Our dinner-and-breakfast visit was far too short, and after they loaded us up with newly harvested potatoes, tomatoes, and peppers from their garden, Kevin led us to the local Walmart where we bought some sleeping bags for the high country. As I write this, we are on the peak-to-peak scenic highway headed for Grand Lake on the western side of Rocky Mountain National Park.