Day Eight: Lassen Volcanic National Park

If you haven't yet been to Lassen Volcanic National Park, you need to pack your bags and git. Git! That is, you need to go if you're the same kind of camper I am. I hate, loathe and abhore National Parks that are crammed full of people. I may never set foot in Yellowstone again because of all the people. But Lassen isn't like that at all. You've got amazing scenery (even the pictures without me in them are pretty good), lots of hiking, uncrowded campgrounds, and friendly people. In fact, I'd say Lassen was the friendliest park I've been in yet as far as the park employees, concessionaires and other campers go.


That's Lassen Peak and That's My Orange Shirt

Our first stop was the visitor center/gift shop (nothing new about that) and then we set out to find a campsite. We arrived at Summit North campground and found a terrific tent site near a little pond. Then we went looking for a hike. Our plan was to go to Bumpass Hell, largely due to the name. Believe it or not, it was actually named after a guy who fell into one of the boiling mudpots down there and badly burned his leg. How 'bout that. Anyway, we were disappointed when the trail was still closed due to slippery snowbanks on the route. Guess that's what happens when you're 7,000 feet above sea level in July. We settled for a hike to Shadow Lake, which was pretty dang nice of its ownself.

Lassen was declared a National Park in 1916 after Lassen Peak erupted and kept right on erupting. In fact, it was quite active from 1915-1917. Things are quiet now, and you can check out all kinds of nifty lakes, mountain peaks and volcanic features. I very highly recommend it as a great place to visit.

Boiling Mudpot, Lassen Volcanic National Park 

You Had to Know That Was Coming

You Are Big Black Boots! You can be best described as: attitude You've got lots of it - and you love to give it A guy has to be pretty gutsy to hit on you But if he's your type, you'll warm up... a little What Shoe Are You? Take This Quiz :-)

Kind of via Mia, who, if she were a porn star would be Tera Patrick.

Day Seven: Halfway Across California

We woke on the morning of Day Seven to a rain shower in the redwoods. You could hear that it was raining really hard, but so little rain was reaching the ground due to the heavy overstory. All of the banana slugs had disappeared from our campsite, so we weren't able to say goodbye to Flash and Squiggy. Life's like that sometimes.

Strangely enough, a girlfriend of mine from Boise was in her hometown of Arcata, visiting her father. We had plans to meet up with her for lunch, so we took camp down quickly and headed to the campground showers. It was there that I discovered that Millcreek Campground did not supply electricity to the bathrooms, and it was subsequently there that I discovered that the alternating-current plug in on my car will not power a blow-dryer. Dammitalltohell!!!

We had a great lunch in Arcata at a place called Mizotti's. Right outside of the restaurant is the town square, which is where all the kids from Humbolt State University go to buy their pot. I should be fair and say this is where all the drop-outs from HSU go to buy their pot. I was a little surprised, being an innocent Idaho flower. I'm not completely without urban graces, but damn, these kids were baked!

Anyway, Matt and I were very excited because we were pretty sure the Humbolt State University mascot was the banana slug, so after lunch we wound up at the HSU bookstore. We were ready to invest in some serious Banana Slug paraphernalia: sweatshirts, visors, bumper stickers, bongs (just kidding). Turns out HSU is the home of the friggin' Lumberjacks! Disappointed doesn't even begin to describe it, and it wasn't until we got home that we learned it is actually the University of California, Santa Cruz.

Arcata is where we started crossing east across California towards home, so we said goodbye to the ocean and headed for that night's stop in Redding (go Motel 6). Along the way, you pass through Willow Creek, California, which is where the famous "real" film of Bigfoot walking along a riverbed was filmed. Cryptozoologists (those in the know about things that might not actually exist) swear that no human being could walk in the same way this Bigfoot was walking on the film, so it must be true. Plus, you couldn't see a zipper anywhere on the hairy suit, and that lent credence.

Sadly, the Bigfoot Museum was closed, due to it being Monday. I guess there aren't many true believers on the highway on Mondays. Poor Matt was pretty devastated, as it has been a childhood dream of his to visit all the Bigfoot sites that he possibly can. He had to content himself with the picture below.


Hey There, Did You Know I Had a Bigfoot Friend?

Day Six: Giants of the Forest

It is extremely difficult to put the Redwoods National Park experience into words.  The best we could come up with was, "Whoa."  Eloquent, I know.  But when you're standing underneath the largest living organism you've ever seen in your entire life, words sort of escape you.

Our first stop was Jedediah Smith State Park, a really godawful campsite, but with an amazing stand of redwoods nearby.  The Stout Grove is about 44 acres of some of the largest, oldest redwoods in the world. 


Looking Up--Waaay Up 

As I stood there with my hand on the bark of a tree that was probably 1500 years old and 20 feet in diameter, I thought to myself, "I wonder what they think of mankind as a species.  Have they even noticed us?  Or do they wish we'd just go away?"  Regardless of the answer, I quit feeling like mankind might be the pinnacle of creation, the neatest trick evolution had produced so far.  I was nothing underneath those trees--merely a gnat, a speck. 

Maybe it's my Anglo-Norse nature-worshipping legacy catching up with me, but I think I could get behind a religion that adored trees like these.  None of this Judeo-Christian stuff for me:  give me Gaia.

Matt dragged me out of the grove by the hand and made sure I didn't trip over anything on the way out.  Looking up at redwoods gives you a real neck ache, and if you're like me you eat a lot of mosquitos because your jaw has dropped and you can't seem to regain control.

Our campsite was just down the road at Del Norte State Park.  This was probably the best campsite of our trip.  Each tent site is surrounded by high foliage and trees.  Best of all, the place is practically overrun with banana slugs.  They look a lot like their namesake.  They're bright yellow, tube-like, and don't move very fast--all qualities commonly associated with bananas.  We had at least four at our campsite, two of which we named Flash and Squiggy.  We tried to get them to race, but didn't have very good results.  Banana slug racing is a lot like watching paint dry and I don't think it's going to catch on.

We took an after dinner walk on the loop trail surrounding the campground.  We were looking for Bigfoot, who has been rumored to frequent the area, but we were the only hairy bipeds to be found.  It was just us and the banana slugs out there.

Gee Whiz!  

Dude, Grover is Stoned

Poor little baby dog!  Grover has been shaking his head for over a week now and we finally got around to taking him to the vet.  We figured he'd got a grass seed in one of his big, fuzzy ears.  Wrong.  Turns out our dog has abnormally small ear canals--like the size of pencil lead.  The vet actually had to anesthatize him to clean his ears out, so now Grove is staggering around the house running into things.

Springers have lots of ear issues, mainly because their ears are so long and heavy.  They get disgusting infections all the time and you (and when I say "you" in our household I'm talking about Matt, not me) have to clean the ears out often to avoid it.  Matt has been doing an admirable job of it, but it turns out that lots of icky muck was getting down near his ear drum. 

As Chris will tell you (apropos of a recent comment I made to him), I am thoroughly grossed out by cleaning dogs' ears.  It is right up there with sewage pumping as far as I am concerned.  It's a vile, revolting, nasty business.  And the vet referred to Grover's ear goo as being, "Packed in there like concrete."  I think I just threw up a little thinking about it.  But to get his ears as clean as we need to, I'm going to have to start participating.  *cry*

So our little guy might need to have an operation to get his aural canals enlarged so that he doesn't get horrible infections and potential deafness.  Poor little doggy!

Salmon Fishermen on the Rogue River 

Day Five: Cetaceans & Pinnipeds

Day 5 saw us more than ready to get out of Bullard's Beach State Park and on the road.  We didn't have far to travel:  our campsite that night was only about 70 miles south, so we took our time seeing the sights.

We hit scenic Highway 101, aka the Pacific Coast Highway.  It's well known throughout California and Oregon, as it rarely gets more than about 5 miles east of the ocean at any spot.  Our first stop (and arguably the best one of the trip) was at Cape Blanco State Park.  The park boasts a lighthouse, which you can tour for $4/person.  Again, that seemed a little touristy and it was too foggy to get a good view, so we skipped it.  But behold:


Cape Blanco Lighthouse 

We drove through the park and found a terrific little campground (too bad we already had reservations elsewhere), and walked to the beach from there.  Visibility was in and out, but as we were walking up the beach, Matt spotted a flipper rising from the water a hundred yards or so out from shore.  We both got very excited, thinking maybe there was a porpoise or something fishing.   Then we saw another huge flipper, and suddenly a giant fluked tail slipping beneath the surface and realized that what we were looking at was much bigger than a porpoise.  It was a small pod of California Grey Whales!!!  It looked to us like the pod was feeding, because you'd see a spurt from the blowhole, a substantial stretch of back and maybe a flipper, and then the tail.  They stayed in the same area for nearly 15 minutes.  I got excited and took several pictures, but never at the right time.  I could show you, but it wouldn't be worth the space.  Whales are very difficult to photograph, I think.  And as we stood there watching, a seal poked its head out of the waves between the whales and us.  Malia could say for sure, but I'm pretty sure it was a harbor seal.

The whales left us and visibility faded, so we returned to the car very excited and raving about what a privilege it was to see real, live whales out doing what whales do.  We tried to figure out what kind of mountain wildlife sighting here in Idaho that it could compare to, and decided that it was like seeing wolves in the woods.  They're an elusive population and it's rare to see them, they're a species in danger, and they're really not that afraid of humans.  It was just amazing.

Our drive took us to Gold Beach, Oregon, which is where the Rogue River meets the ocean.  Salmon season was in full swing, and we could see boat after boat near the river's mouth.  We stopped to watch, and Matt was able to count 85 separate boats in the half-mile stretch of river between the ocean jetty and the river bridge.  While we watched, what looked like a very graceful, very overstuffed sack of fat swam through the boats.  It was a sea lion, and he was out fishing.  You could tell the fishermen were getting agitated, as the critter was likely chasing the salmon and baitfish all over the place.  The sea lion cavorted about for quite a while, then disappeared from view, presumably to enjoy his dinner.

It was a great day.  Unfortunately, the night was not so good.  Our campsite at Harris Beach State Park was much prettier and closer to the beach than our site the night before, and things started off well.  However, a group of campers moved in two sites away from us at about 10:30 that night.  It's not a good sign when folks show up that late.  It means they're going to have their headlights on to set up the tent, then they're going to raise hell cooking and eating dinner.  These people were beyond all of that.  They had a new puppy that barked in a very shrill and repetitive manner and they never did anything about it.  This pup literally barked for an hour straight.  They performed the requisite "Stomp" reprise while making dinner, banging their pots with wild abandon.  And just as we thought they'd settled down, the kids started skateboarding.  At midnight.  I was asleep through parts of this; I could sleep through a brass band much of the time.  Matt, however, is another story.  My sleeping bag and I horizontally levitated about a foot off the ground from fright when Matt finally bellowed, "It's after midnight!  You need to quiet down!"  Wasn't quite prepared for that, but it was worth it because a young voice called out, "Sorry!" and not another peep was heard out of them all night.  I woke up the next morning to a very grouchy husband, though.

Addendum to Day Four: Tokeetee Falls

Tokeetee Falls 

Ooo and ahh at your leisure.  We guessed the falls to be about 60 feet high from the pool to the top.

Day Four: To the Coast!

Day Four found us freshly showered and stuffing our gobs full of breakfast at the Crater Lake Lodge once again.  We left the park fairly early because we both had a yen to see the ocean. 

We had reservations that night at Bullards Beach State Park.  The Oregon State Parks webpage describes it thusly:  "Bullards Beach is a large, family-oriented park located just two miles north of Bandon. The campground is nestled among shore pines and well protected from the strong ocean breezes. "  If you throw in a public relations filter, family-oriented means that it is absolutely crammed to the gills with people, and well protected from the strong ocean breezes means that you're a 3/4 mile hike through sand dunes before you even get a look at the beach.  It was kind of a ghetto.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.  On our drive out of the park, we went through a big section of the Umpqua National Forest.  We pulled off the highway at a sign that said, "Clearwater Falls," mainly as a bathroom break, but also to check out some of the sights.  So glad we did!


Clearwater Falls 

We continued on to yet another beautiful waterfall, Tokeetee Falls.  I have a picture, but I'm dumb with this Picasa software and may just have to post it seperately. 

As mentioned above, our campground was close to the touristy little town of Bandon.  It was while wandering around through the scenic downtown that I was struck with Traveller's Discomfort.  Thirty minutes and a stiff slug of Pepto-Bismol later, and all was restored.  We returned to our campsite where we learned that we were camped next to what Guiness would probably describe as The Woman With the World's Most Carrying Voice.  It wasn't that she was speaking loudly, exactly, but that her voice just projected so far.  She and her group got jiggy with Lynrd Skynrd's Greatest Hits until about 8:30 that night, all the while bragging about the 200 crabs they'd caught so far.  I assume they meant Dungeness, rather than genital.

Interestingly, the Oregon State Parks all have a requisite "Wash Your Hands to Avoid Disease" sign on the inside doors of the bathrooms.  More interestingly, they don't provide soap at any of their bathrooms.  Scare tactics!

Day Three: Crater Lake

The morning of Day Three found us at the pay showers in the campground.  I'm weird about shaving my legs--it has to be done daily.  I can miss a day here and there, but only under extreme emotional duress.  So we popped our quarters in the pay boxes near the showers.  I finished in four minutes howdoyoulikemenow?

We headed up to the Crater Lake Lodge for breakfast.  That's kind of a thing with Matt and I in National Parks; we gotta try the lodge (where available) for at least one meal.  It was heavenly.  I had marionberry stuffed French toast.  Mmm. 

There is only one trail down to Crater Lake, and you have to drive halfway around the lake to get there.  Not that I'm complaining.  It was such a beautiful drive around the rim and there were so many places you could get out and see the lake from another perspective.

We hit the trail shortly before noon.  You hike 1.1 miles to the lake shore, but you descend roughly 800 feet in that mile.  It's a wee bit steep.  The trip down was a cinch, but the trip up... 


Mr. Crabby Wouldn't Smile 

We took a breather down at the shore and watched the excursion boats go by.  For $20 each, you can take a scenic boat ride.  It probably would have been worth it, but we're  both allergic to anything with the word "excursion" in it.  Too touristy.  Anyway, let's think about this for a minute:  big boats,  probably 30 people per boat, one trail down to the lake, no road.  How the hell do they get the boats in the water, you ask?  I asked, and they do it by helicopter!  Neato, huh?  We actually saw a Sikorsky Sky Crane over the park the day we got there.  I have no idea if it was dropping a boat into the lake or not.

We challenged ourselves on the hike back out.  The sign at the top said that it takes between 40 and 80 minutes.  I bet Matt we could do it in 25 and he agreed.  A coronary later, we were at the trailhead in just at 25 minutes.  Booya!

Finished up the lake drive, hit the gift shop again (I'm a conspicuous consumer--sue me), and camped at a new campground--little Lost Creek, with only 16 campsites.  It was a much better, quieter night without so many neighbors.

You Want Pictures?

The Lovely Couple, The Lovely Lake 

Day Two of the Trip:  We had a really questionable continental breakfast in Burns at our hotel (pre-wrapped cheese danishes and coffee), and continued the drive west.  Eventually things started to get a little more scenic and we arrived in Bend around lunchtime.  I could tell you what we ate because I somehow have a photographic memory for vacation food, but I don't want to bore you.  Okay, I had corned beef hash and fried eggs.  God, I love corned beef hash.

At Bend we headed south and stopped for a while at the High Desert Museum.  It was full of interesting exhibits about the wildlife, ecology, economy and history of the high desert, specifically southern Idaho, eastern Oregon, darn near all of Nevada, and parts of California and Utah.  It also had live animals in dioramas, including otters, birds of prey and mustangs.  Good stuff!

After the museum, we went to Crater Lake National Park  You have never seen such a shade of blue in your entire life.  It is the deepest lake in North America, at nineteen-hundred-and-something feet at the deepest point, which is why it is so doggone blue.  We set up camp at Mazama campground, which is named for Mount Mazama, the volcano that blew its top to create the lake.

Since it was getting a bit late, we decided to prioritize the gift shop, which was very nice and had many attractive items at value prices.  Ha.  National Park gift shops are such a rip-off, but that didn't stop me from buying a t-shirt for me, a t-shirt for our house-sitter, a mug, a magnet and a deck of Wildflower Identification Playing Cards.  I had money and I was there to spend it.

A moderately restful night followed, interrupted only by a tree-climbing rodent of some sort dropping a pine cone on our tent.  It was here that I recalled the agony of a hugely developed campground where you can't just wander out of your tent in the middle of the night when you need to go wee-wee.  I immediately instated my personal "Nothing to Drink after 7:00 p.m." policy, and it served me well.

More tomorrow.  Are you guys enjoying this kind of travelogue, or would you rather I just cut to the chase?

Momma's Home!

Hey!!! I'm back!!! God, what a great vacation. And I plan to tell you all about it--one day at a time. I figured I'd go through the vacation and try to relive the interesting bits chronologically. I've got pictures for most days, and Sweety, if you don't go to the Redwoods after seeing these pictures...

Enough foreshadowing. I left work at about 3:15 on Tuesday afternoon, raced home, and Matt and I jumped into the car, which he had been working on loading all day. On our way south to catch the freeway, we drove through the town of Emmett. I like to say that I spent a decade living in Emmett one year. Actually it was more like three years spent there. I have bad feelings about Emmett, mostly attached to my destroyed relationship with my mother, via the Jehovah's Witless experience.

Anyway, after driving as quickly as possible through that, we hit the world's ugliest stretch of road. Highway 20 runs between Ontario and Burns, Oregon. There isn't one damn thing to see there except for the Shoe Tree. It's about 30 miles east of Burns. Every year, the graduating high school seniors in Vale, Oregon (15 miles west of Ontario) drive out to the Shoe Tree, tie the laces together on their sneakers, and pitch them up into the branches. There must be 200 pairs of shoes in the tree, which leads me to believe they've been doing it for quite a while, as Vale probably doesn't graduate more than about 15 people each year.

My boss had told me that the Pine Room in Burns was the place to get a steak in Oregon. It was right next door to our hotel, so we decided to go for it. I ordered the small size New York Strip. The meal started out with shrimp cocktail, which meant about 15 baby salad shrimp buried under 2 tablespoons of cocktail sauce. I figured this was going to be another boondoggle sponsored by my boss until the soup arrived: tomato/tarragon bisque. Heaven in a bowl. Salads came and mine had homemade bleu cheese dressing. Not too shabby. And then the steak...ahhh, the steak. I don't know how the cook got such a perfect sear, but it was delightfully crisped on the outside and rose pink and juicy in the middle. I think there might have been a potato. After we finished, the waitress brought us complimentary slices of pumpkin bread with strawberry butter. It was great. We turned in early that night with very full tummies.

More to come tomorrow, this time with pictures. You'll likely notice two recurring themes to my little travelouge: food, and the orange shirt. You'll see what I mean.

Mucho thanks to Sweety and Chris for taking over while I was gone. You guys did great and I owe you one!

A day dream

I’m at work and it’s SO quiet. A lot of people are on holiday (including my boss YAYYYY!). I could of course start the projects I’m supposed too… But with the lack of time pressure it’s much nicer to slide in to a daydream and think of good things to come. Like our trip to California in December.

It will be awesome. We’re flying to San Francisco and stay there for a couple of days. Then we’ll rent a car and follow the coast line down to San Diego, stopping at places we feel like spending more time at. We both have never been to California. I’m so excited! If time & money is left (we’re still planning this holiday) we’ll spend Christmas on Hawaii. Mmmm…. I wonder if it’s possible to swim with dolphins there. I’ve never done that.

What do you think we should visit while we’re in CA?

Who stole summer?

I think Casey has borrowed our summer and took it on her camping trip. Because our summer? NOT here. No where to be found.
This seems to be the problem in quite a big part of Europe, since Tjej (from Sweden) has not seen summer either. And I’ve heard a part of Germany even had snow. SNOW. In July.
 
For the last years the temperatures (here in The Netherlands) in July & August were between 73 F and 87 F. It’s been like 62 F the last two weeks. And that’s not considering the thunderstorms we had yesterday.
 
Summer better be hiding in August because I'm writing a letter of complaint to.. to.. to Mother Nature.

Rejoice!

Today? She is Friday! Personally, I couldn't be happier. I've been trapped in a land of meetings and proposal writing and I'm not happy about it. I can only imagine how much more fun Casey is having! Regardless, its Friday! And weren't we supposed to be having a party? I need to check what I was supposed to bring again! :-)

Superman, a naked dog, Spiderman AND Courtney Love

Can I just be a total lazy guest blogger and tell y’all to go haiku here with Superman, a naked dog, Spiderman AND Courtney Love?

Can I?

Please?

Pretty please with sugar on top?

Thanks, I'll Be Here All Week!

Hey everyone, Chris here. Can you believe Casey took off on vacation and left me and Sweety the keys to her blog. I think we definitely need to throw a party.

Now, what do I want to talk about here? I'm not quite sure...yet. But I've got some time so check back with me in a little while.

Meanwhile, we've got a party to plan. What are you going to bring?

Blogging, babies, GI JOE & Lucifer

It seems I’m sharing this blog-sit opportunity with Chris Cactus! I’m totally honoured! The word blog-sitting made me think of babysitting (my god that was cheap).

Like probably every teenage girl, I’ve baby-sitted many times. When the parents were out on a perfectly wonderful date, I was changing less perfect poo diapers (I hope the word poo is allowed on Casey’s blog ;). Most of the children I looked after were pretty cool. And for most of the families in my childhood neighbourhood I was their regular baby-sitter. There was however one family for whom I baby-sitted once. And after that I swore that even if they offered me a gazillion dollars (or Dutch guilders at the time) I’d never step foot in their horror house again. Ever.

When I arrived the mom introduced me to her little monsters. It was the 5 year old Lucifer and his 8 year old brother Satan, both wearing angel-looking smiles on their faces. As soon as the mother turned around to get her bag, those smiles disappeared as a drop of water on a hot plate.
God help me.
When their parents had left I asked the boys ‘So, what do you guys wanna do?’ They looked at me as if I replaced their GI-Joes with pink & fluffy bunny rabbits. Okaaay. Wrong start.
They’d choose to ignore me first (mumbling they were too old to have a baby-sitter) but it wasn’t for long until they made fun of me. After two hours of torture by this comical devil duo, I send them to bed.
It couldn’t have been 10 minutes later when I heard “help me, help me”. How could I not run upstairs? When I got there I found Lucifer with blood & slime pouring out of his nose. It wouldn’t have surprised me if Satan had knocked the shit out of his little pointy tailed brother. We washed the blood of little Lucifer and put him back to bed. How much worse can it get?
I grabbed some chips and a coke and settled to watch my girlie movie. *crack* *crack* It was them on the staircase. *crack* *crack*. They’d come down again. I send them up. They came down. I send them up. Down. Up. Down. It wasn’t until their parents came that they’d stayed up, pretending to be asleep.

‘How were they?’ their mom asked. ‘To be honest, they were terrible’ I replied.
With disbelieve she looked at me, her eyes were saying ‘my little angels?’. I took the money and left.

Now, the boys are teenagers and they’re terrorising the neighbourhood. I hear my parents complain a lot. My reply ‘No? Those little angels?’

Hope I haven’t bored ya'all with this post and hope to be a good guest blogger for Casey while she's enjoying her holiday. Sweety ;)

Domestic and International Blogging Superstars!

I'm happy to introduce you all (those who aren't already acquainted) with your Guest Bloggers, who will be holding down the fort while I'm gone on my camping trip:

*applause*

First we have Sweety, who is coming to us from the Netherlands. How cool is that? Sweety has a great site and I know will be bringing some terrific perspective to this Idaho girl's blog.

Next we have Chris of Rude Cactus fame. Chris is a pretty darned popular blogger and Haiku Smackdown Grand Master. Don't be intimidaed by his credentials: he's pretty down to earth for all of that.

Thanks for pitch hitting for me, you two!

Random Shtuff

Has anyone paid any attention to the song "Take Your Mama," by Scissor Sisters? It would be way too obvious for me to say that they sound exactly like the younger, flashier days of Elton John, so I won't say that. And the video! Elton, baby. Check it out.

We're working on getting packed up tonight and finishing some housework so that our house-sitter doesn't have to live in a pestilent cess pool while she's here watching our dogs. Not that the place ever gets that dirty, but I do get a bit obsessive-compulsive when I know someone will be entering the front door for more than a minute or two. Thank God for Swiffers.

Still. Looking. For. Guest. Bloggers. Did I mention I don't have any criteria? You don't have to post every day. You don't have to be all alone--you can tag team it with a close friend. If you don't currently have a blog of your own, it's a good way to test the water. And finally, if you do have a blog, perhaps your amazing wittiness (word?) here will draw more visitors over to your own site! That's my sales pitch. Oh, and I'll guest for you someday.

Care to Buy a Watch?

Which Survivor of the Impending Nuclear Apocalypse Are You?
A Rum and Monkey joint.

I'm all about surviving the Apocalypse. If you are too, check out Emergence, a now out-of-print novel by David Palmer. You can pick up used copies through Amazon or wherever. Great, great book.

Quiz via Mia.

Having Reservations

I've mentioned that Matt and I are heading out on vacation next week (still looking for guest bloggers--you all aren't exactly beating my door down). It dawned on us last night that we're arriving on the Oregon coast Friday afternoon, not traditionally a good time to just waltz into a campground and think you're going to get a site.

We ended up at Reserve America, a national reservation system that rents out campsites for numerous states' parks, Forest Service and National Park Service sites. We reserved nights from Friday through Sunday of next week at two different Oregon State Parks and a California State Park. Ho. Lee. Cow. Can you believe we paid $77 for three nights?!

The reservation system charges a fee in addition to your campsite fee. For the Oregon sites it was $6.00 and the California site was $7.50. Each campsite ran between $17 and $23 per night. Camping. In a tent. No valet parking, no continental breakfast, (no phone, no pool, no pets, as the song goes).

Still, I guess it's worth it to have the peace of mind knowing that we will be waltzing into a popular campground on Friday night and will have a spot waiting for us.

Camping Trip Pics

We really had a fun camping trip. We left early-ish on Wednesday and got to our campsite at about 1:00. We chilled at camp for a while and Matt tried his hand at fly-fishing the very fast-flowing Imnaha River. There were no bites, but maybe the fishing will be better and the river will be slower the next time we go.

The dogs had a great time, despite the fact that a coyote howled near our camp at about 2:00 in the morning. They were a little nervous, but didn't wig out completely.

We returned yesterday via Halfway, Oregon, which is a pretty cool little ranch town right in the transition zone between the mountains and pine forest, down to the more barren rangeland around Brownlee and Oxbow reservoirs.


Matt Fly-Fishing on the Imnaha River 

The Dogs and Me, Wallowa-Whitman National Forest 

We'd hiked up a horrific slope to find this lake. We looked at the map and thought, "Huh, only a 700' elevation gain in two miles. Not bad." Little did we know that we climbed about 1500' and descended 800' to get there. Still, it was a great hike and definitely made us ready for dinner.

This May Be More Accurate

Also from this place, though slightly different.

You are a WECL--Wacky Emotional Constructive Leader. This makes you a people's advocate. You are passionate about your causes, with a good heart and good endeavors. Your personal fire is contagious, and others wish they could be as dedicated to their beliefs as you are.

Your dedication may cause you to miss the boat on life's more slight and trivial activities. You will feel no loss when skipping some inane mixer, but it can be frustrating to others to whom such things are important. While you find it difficult to see other points of view, it may be useful to act as if you do, and play along once in a while.

In any event, you have buckets of charisma and a natural skill for making people open up. Your greatest asset is an ability to make progress while keeping the peace.

Buckets of natural charisma, indeed.

And People Call Me a Bitch...

From here:

Your score as a human being is 81.2.

You are close to ideal. So close, and yet so far. Amusing, really, to watch someone squirm so close to the vaunted ranks of perfection and still remain so very, very ordinary. It is all one can do to keep one's ingratiating smile from polluting one's perfect face.

Actually, one recommends you take the quiz again and lie a little.

"Mean Mommy"

We have these friends...let's call them Kim and John. Kim and John have two children: a four year old boy, Fred, and a one year old daughter, Jane. (Names are changed to protect the innocent--me.)

Kim is a working mother and has a fairly high-level management job. John is a sales representative and makes a very good living on commissions. The problem that we notice with Kim and John is that John refuses to discipline the kids, Fred in particular. John wants to be the "fun parent." If Kim tries to get Fred settled down, John says, "Fred isn't ready yet!" and gets him all riled up again.

Tonight was especially noticable, as little Fred was throwing a rubber ball all around their living room and John was participating heartily. Kim asked John to stop getting the kid wound up, and finally John listened. So what did he do? He told Fred to stop, and then looked over at Kim and said, "Mean Mommy!"

There's more. Fred went outside with the ball and immediately started throwing it at the windows of the house. At this point, John went outside, ostensibly to discipline Fred. Didn't happen. Another game of catch ensued and before too much longer Fred was throwing the ball at the windows again.

Please tell me I'm not the only one who would have given Fred a spanking and John an ultimatum.

A-Camping We Will Go

Matt and I are going to head out in the morning for a quick overnight camping trip to the Imnaha River in Eastern Oregon. You might remember that we went there a few weeks ago. It was a great trip, and we hope to enjoy some sunshine there this time around.

We're heading off on our big vacation next week to Crater Lake, Redwoods National Park, and Mount Shasta. I'm looking for a few good people interested in guest blogging. Leave a post in the comments if you'd like to be signed up to take over for me for about 9 days. Thanks!

Getting Peeved

I don't know what the hell is going on with the computer/internet/modem/me. At least 50% of the time that I try to click into my site, whether it is from my favorites list, from Blogger, or from another site, I get booted to a "Cannot Find Server" page. It isn't happening with any other sites (that I am aware of) on our favorites or other regularly scheduled pages. This has been going on for days now.

Thoughts?

Way to Go, Idaho!

All you Idahoans need to get your tukkuses over to A Small Victory and take up for our great state.

The jist of the post is that each and every state has something that makes it great. People have commented about pret'near every state in the union, but I was dismayed to find I was the first to make any real effort to say what is great about Idaho.

Git over there. Git!

Cool Site!

I had an e-mail in my inbox this evening that invited me to submit a personal photo (not necessarily of myself, but of whatever), along with an essay about the photo to the website 1000 Words. The site started in Australia, and is now going global with submissions from all over the world. (That's what "global" means.) *eye roll*

The site's creator, David Chin, is looking for new material and is interested in hearing from pretty much anyone, near as I can tell. Check it out!

You Gotta Have Goals

Let's talk about my goals tonight, shall we?

My first goal is to someday not live in a resort town. I also do not want to live on the road that is on it's way to another resort town. Traffic is sucking the big schlong tonight. All the area campgrounds were full as of Thursday morning, but people just keep pouring in with their big-ass trailers. We're full! Go home!

My other goal is to be on The Today Show someday.

And now we've talked about my goals.

Just Click It

You gotta look at this. Why? Because it cracks me up so damn bad. Just look, okay?

DUDE, DOUBLE YOU TEE EFF is two papers?

*snort*

How Does My Garden Grow?

I actually did some gardening today. I feel no affinity for gardening whatsoever, but I forced myself to get after it. The former owners of our house really worked hard at providing a nice, seasonal perennial garden for us. Every spring we stand and look at our tulips, crocus and daffodils and say, "Thank you, Mrs. Miller!" (Mrs. Miller was the former owner who worked so hard on the flower beds.) In the summer the lupines and columbines bloom, the hummingbirds come to enjoy the nectar, and we again say, "Thank you, Mrs. Miller!"

Mrs. Miller had her son build her a raised strawberry bed in what is now our back yard. She didn't tend it the last few years of her life, so after we moved in we decided to try to replant it. It didn't work out, mainly because we forget to water stuff. So up until this afternoon, the raised bed was a huge tangle of weeds and chamomile.

I joined The Arbor Day Foundation about a year ago because I love trees. I can keep trees alive, generally speaking. Every few months, the Arbor Day Foundation sends me a little offer where I can make a donation--usually $15 or so--and they will send me some more trees or another goody. This last time it was a summer bulb garden. There were all kinds of little bulbs: anemones, swordflower (?), and allium.

I planted, I watered, and I doubt anything will ever come of it.

Right Here in Valley County

Valley County official, ranch hand fined in wolf killing

Valley County Commissioner and rancher Phil Davis and his hired hand have been fined $750 each in the shooting death of a wolf. Few ranchers in Idaho have been fined for killing a wolf since their reintroduction in 1995.

The wolf, protected under the Endangered Species Act, was found dead by U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service enforcement officers May 25 on Davis' 6,000-acre Bar O Ranch north of Cascade. Jerry Ussery, an employee of Davis, told officers he shot the wolf May 24 while it was near a herd of cattle north of the Warm Springs Highway.

Davis said Ussery heard two cows bawling when he came on the scene and saw the wolf running across a road past the cows, which had week-old calves.

"There's no doubt this wolf was going to kill a calf," Davis said.

Under the current rules, a landowner can shoot a wolf on private land if it is killing, wounding or biting livestock.

"We would have given them the benefit of the doubt if there had been evidence that cattle had been attacked," said Craig Tabor, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service officer who investigated the case.

Davis and Ussery might not have been fined had they called authorities within 24 hours, Tabor said.

Davis runs 4,000 head of cattle on the ranch with the oldest brand in the state, dating back to 1863. May is his busiest month of the year. He was in the middle of moving cattle from his winter and spring range near Mountain Home to summer range near Cascade when Ussery called and told him he had shot the wolf.

Davis was too busy with other work to respond immediately, he said. He told Ussery to hide it because he thought it was visible from the road and could have prompted calls from passers-by.

When Davis woke up the next morning, he was preparing for 500 head of cattle to arrive then.

"I plumb forgot about it," Davis said.

Meanwhile, biologists for the Nez Perce Tribe picked up a signal from the wolf's radio collar that indicates an animal isn't moving.

Tabor and another officer realized the signal was coming from Davis' ranch and stopped by his house to get permission to look for the wolf.

Davis and Ussery took them to the wolf and told them their story. Ussery said he could have shot the wolf numerous times but didn't until it threatened the calves.

The wolf, a male, had just joined the Orphan Pack, which has been living in the areas since 1996. A member of the same pack is believed to have killed two of Davis' calves in 1996 and also a neighbor's calf.

Ussery acknowledged that the wolf was running away from the cattle when he shot, which was one of the reasons charges were filed, Tabor said.

I'm not going to post about my personal opinions in this situation. I'm happy that my husband was not involved with this case in any way, since it's a pretty controversial subject here in town.

But the question for discussion is this: do you think a politician who breaks federal law should step down from their post?