Karl's West Coast Road Trip

Day 19 - 06/20/2008

2008-06-30T09:46:00.000-07:00

I woke up anyway. I have a vague memory of Lydia quietly directing Pat to a portion of the wrap-around couch in the living room with me and the guys, and Josh & Johanna standing nearby, ready to turn and go to one of the upstairs bedrooms. I gave Josh and Johanna each a quick hug, not even getting out of bed, and fell right back to sleep. As I drifted off, I heard Josh say he wanted to stay out here with all of us.

I woke for good around five in the morning. I tried to go back to sleep, but to no avail. I even knitted for awhile in bed. I couldn’t believe how quiet it was upstairs. That’s not a connotative adjective for a room of sleeping teenage guys.

I went downstairs to use the bathroom and heard giggling from the big bedroom. I walked over and saw that almost everyone was awake: Rose, Carolyn, Mary, Amanda, Jordan, Jenna, Julia (still sleeping) and Jessica. Apparently my quiet upstairs was a sharp contrast to the “symphony” that went on last night downstairs, and they were all laughing about it. Except Amanda, she was pretty grumpy about it.

We all took our time getting ready for the day, because we’re on vacation. I had some time to talk with Johanna, and was very glad to see her, Pat and Josh. We had breakfast, and then discussed plans to go to the gym again. I was sore from all the arm and chest work I had done yesterday, and was planning to just go swimming, but it was already 11 a.m. when we finished breakfast. So I decided to shower and hit the road instead. I needed to get home because Jon and Kandi’s wedding is tomorrow.

So I quickly packed my car, said good-bye to everyone (which takes awhile), and drove off. In spite of my best planning efforts yesterday, I realized I would need to fill up here to make it back through Yosemite. As I expected, gas is higher ($5.09/gallon) out here. Oh well.

Driving through Yosemite was both breathtaking and frustrating. When I got stuck behind a line of cars or an RV, I just tried to pull off at a place where I could take some pictures, but those were few and far between when staying on the main road.

About 15 miles from the turnoff to head south on the 41 to Fresno, I saw a guy with his thumb out. I hadn’t picked up any hitchhikers on this trip, in spite of my best efforts to find people to help, so I pulled over and asked him where he was headed. In an Australian accent, he told me he was headed to Glacier Point. We figured out that just going my way would get him partway there, so I made some space for his backpack in the backseat, and invited him in. His name is Bob, and he’s “on holiday” from Australia. He really wants to see some of the National Parks here, and so I gave him some recommendations of ones on the west coast that I’ve been to or through. We talked as I drove, about work, life, our respective countries, etc. He was a really nice guy.

We arrived at his turnoff, and I was just going to let him out, but then I saw the sign “Glacier Point – 16 miles.” And he wasn’t just going there; he was returning. His car was already there, and he had hiked out yesterday, I think. It was an uphill road, too. As much as I wanted to get home quickly, I just couldn’t leave him there. So I took him all the way up. It gave us a chance to talk some more, and it wasn’t too long before we got to the top. I let him out, wished him well, and then started heading back down. The advantage to that was having seen some beautiful view points on the way up, I knew where to turn off to take some pictures, and I got some beautiful shots.

Heading home took me through Oakhurst, and finally to Fresno.

It was HOT here! Before going home, I stopped to take care of some errands. I went and got a wedding present for Jon and Kandi. I have to give a shout-out to Bed, Bath & Beyond because of their EXCELLENT customer service. I walked in, and looking at the long lines, tried to find a clerk to point me to the gift registry kiosk. It turns out they have a manned station area (rather than just a machine like at Target or Sears) for gift registries. Seeing how tired, hot and flustered I was, they gave me a cold bottle of water and patiently let me figure out how to form words. They helped me every step of the way, including quickly gift-wrapping it at no extra charge. If I ever find a wife, we’re registering there for our wedding.

After stopping to get gas again, I drove by the post office to confirm their open hours to pick up my mail tomorrow and drove home. Not only was it boiling outside, but inside my apartment as well. If it was 95 inside, I can only imagine how bad it was outside. Nonetheless, I emptied my car. I had to get ready for my next trip. Chicago, here I come!

Thanks to those of you who had the stamina to read through this journal. I had fun making the journey, and hope the documentation of it blessed you as it did me.

Day 18 - 06/19/2008

2008-06-30T09:43:00.000-07:00

I can’t say it enough: this eye mask is amazing. There was direct sunshine coming through my windshield, and I had no idea. I slept until 8 a.m. I decided that I didn’t want to go around Yosemite since it would take so much less time. I went into the Walmart and got directions to get back to the 49, and then to the 120.

After about an hour of driving, I arrived at the west entrance gate to Yosemite. There was a delightfully cheerful woman manning the gate. I bought an annual pass for $40, and she gave me some pamphlets along with directions to get through the park to June Lake.

Driving through the park, I couldn’t believe how big it was. It’s 55 miles across! All this time, I had no idea that it was so huge. I had wondered at Thanksgiving why it took so long to get to the spot Don and Barbara took me to. But it was such a beautiful drive that I hardly minded. It was hard to resist stopping to take pictures along the way because there was a plethora of picturesque spots.

But I pressed on because I wanted to get to June Lake. It was slow going through Yosemite at points because of some really slow cars in front of me. That was somewhat irksome when these cars wouldn’t use turnouts, because I make a point to use them if a car behind me wants to go faster than I want to. What really frustrated me was passing lanes that would only come up on an uphill stretch. Serena doesn’t like hills, and they really tire her out, so it gets harder to speed us and pass other cars when we only have the passing lane traveling uphill.

I finally made it through Yosemite and drove a few miles east on 120 until it dead-ended into highway 395. Following directions from Lydia, I turned south and then into the 158 June Lake Loop. I found the resort, and then what I thought was the guest house. I wasn’t quite sure, though, so I got out of my car to go knock on the front door. To my delight and relief, Carolyn and Lydia opened the door.

Carolyn and Lydia are sisters, and only two members of a huge family in my Orange County church that I’ve been adopted into. The family had invited me to join them at the guest house they had all rented out for the month here at June Lake’s Double Eagle Resort. The only people there when I arrived were Lydia and her husband Dan, Lydia and Carolyn’s mom Rose, Carolyn, and her six kids: Jordan, Justin, James, Jenna, Julia, and Jessica. Lydia and Carolyn have three other sisters, each with their own families, and more people were arriving today.

Lydia fixed me some breakfast since I hadn’t really eaten, and after a shower, I ran over to the resort’s spa to join Lydia, Carolyn, Jordan and Justin at the gym. I started on a treadmill in the cardio area with everyone else, but soon the guys and I moved down to weights. Once the girls finished the movie they were watching while working out, they joined us. We were almost the only ones in the place, so we were able to goof around with each other, and it wasn’t any problem to adjust the machines for the girls’ shorter height. Jordan, Justin and I were recruited as their mom and aunt’s personal trainers.

Going into the locker room, I saw how decked out the place was. They had razors and shaving cream set out by the sinks, and I decided it was beyond time to shave. I had only brought my electric razor with me, and after a few days, my facial hair was too long to maintain without it pulling. So I’ve just been letting it grow out. It was nice to get rid of it, but the razors weren’t very high quality, and I gave myself a pretty nice cut on my mustache line. When I got back to the guest house, I got a band-aid from Lydia, and with my Neosporin, it finally stopped bleeding.

Dan organized lunch for us all. Jenna and Julia were in charge of table setup (Jessica, being only a year old, was excused from kp), and Jordan, Justin and James would take care of kitchen clean-up. Their cousins would join in as they arrived, because according to Dan, the moms shouldn’t be doing any kitchen cleaning on vacation. For lunch we had a spaghetti-like dish that was delicious.

Afterward I was playing with the girls, picking them up, giving moon jumps, throwing them onto the beds, tickling them. Carolyn LOVED the throwing on the bed part. But the girls enjoyed it, and I was careful with them. It reminded me of when my uncle would do that with me and my sisters back when we were that young and small. I also had some time to do some knitting, and James was knitting also, so I had some company.

Carolyn had brought several craft projects with her, but wanted to get some preliminary needlepoint projects for Jenna and Julia. There’s a fabric store in the town of June Lake, so we decided to drive over there before they closed. Driving into town with everyone would require more than Carolyn’s car, so she asked me if I could drive one person. Jordan would ride with me.

As we prepared to leave, I realized I would need to move my car out her way (she obviously needed to lead the way. The guest house is directly down a rock-covered road off the highway, but the road continues off to the right to another guest house. So I backed up on the road leading to the next house, but when I realized Carolyn wanted to do the same thing in order to turn around, I continued backing up. I was backing up at an angle, and I accidentally drove the rear right wheel over the wood plank edge of the road into the surrounding field. I tried driving back out, but with no success. I knew this was going to be bad. Jordan asked if he should get out and push, but I figured there was no way that would work due to the field being on much lower ground, so I gave him a look of utter bewilderment. I honked to get Carolyn’s attention, and she, Lydia and Justin got out. They actually thought we could push Serena up and out, but I thought we’d need AAA. Thankfully I listened to them, because we had Carolyn get in to put the car in drive while the rest of us pushed, and Serena glided ride back onto the street.

Crisis averted, we headed into town. We arrived, and let Carolyn and Jenna off at the fabric store since they would need to maximize their time there. Lydia and I drove the rest of the crew down the street to a candy store. She got some candy for the younger kids, and drinks from the accompanying coffee shop for the rest of us. We hung out and looked around the gift shop while we waited for Carolyn. I gave Julia a ride on my shoulders for awhile, and she enjoyed being taller than everyone else for once.

While we waited, Lydia got the call that Mary (Lydia’s sister), Jeremy (Lydia’s nephew by her other sister Chris), Brian and Amanda (two of Mary’s three adult children) were getting very close. They drove past us while we were in town, and waved as they headed to the cabin. It’s a five-hour drive without traffic, so we forgave them for not stopping to see us.

Once the rest of us returned, we sat and relaxed for awhile before starting dinner. Dan fixed his renowned soup for us, boiling some pasta to pour into the soup as it was being served. I had two big bowls of it because it was so good.

After dinner we all sat down to enjoy our various activities. Carolyn started Jenna and Julia each on their own needlepoint project. This was Julia’s first attempt at it, and she was doing so well. Mary, James and I pulled out our knitting, and it was so nice to have some other people join me. After much debate, we decided on a movie to watch. We ended up watching the A&E version of Pride & Prejudice, and I was glad that I know the story so well and had seen it before. That’s because the house was so noisy with so many people, that we missed much of the dialogue. This is clearly not the way a movie is watched in my parents’ home.

Then the phone calls came, and because I knew the movie, I didn’t mind stepping out to answer. The first call was from Cindy, and the second from my friend Daniel Z. (different from Daniel W. who I visited in Idaho). I talked with each of them for awhile, and then went back inside. The movie had been abandoned, and now conversations were going every which way. We all talked for awhile more, and then slowly drifted off to our respective sleeping places. I would be in the upstairs living room with the boys on a fold-up bed. The guest house is set up slightly inverted from normal: the living room, dining room, and kitchen are all upstairs with a few bedrooms (one master). The bottom floor has one huge bedroom (six beds, four of which are in double bunks), the laundry room, a bathroom and the garage.

Johanna (the fifth sister) and her two youngest, Pat and Josh, were driving up, but weren’t due until 2:30 a.m., so we weren’t planning to wait up. They had a key.

Last Batch of Pictures

2008-06-30T09:40:00.000-07:00

Day 14

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2002716&l=44cf2&id=150900395

Day 15

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2002719&l=fefdc&id=150900395

Day 16

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2002720&l=305a3&id=150900395

Day 17

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2002735&l=ca2eb&id=150900395

Day 18

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2002736&l=0a535&id=150900395

Day 19

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2002737&l=b2320&id=150900395

Day 17 - 06/18/2008

2008-06-25T18:27:00.000-07:00

It was a slow start this morning. I didn’t get up until 8:15—so much for remembering I’m on vacation. But I needed to make trails today. Somehow I needed to get to June Lake pronto. My road trip is nearing its conclusion, and I need to maximize every adventuresome minute of it.

We started the morning similar to yesterday. We finished 1 Corinthians and prayed for family, loved ones, and missionaries. I will miss my mornings with Sherman and Harriet. Even though I’ve only had two breakfasts here, I feel as though I as part of their routine. We ate breakfast, and I started packing. As I loaded the car, Harriet surprised me with a sack lunch. I was grateful, but not as grateful as I would become later that afternoon when I clued in that I didn’t have much food left in my trunk.

I think I’ve been neglecting to mention the silent member of the Peterson family. The cat, affectionately called, “Cat.” Sherman and Harriet don’t feed him (gender presumed but not confirmed), but he appears taken care of. He’s been hanging around outside their home for quite awhile now. Anyway, he likes to stare. That’s really all there is to say. And to think I’ve been forgetting to mention Cat.

Before sending me on my way, Sherman wanted to get a few pictures of me and us with his camera. He set up his tripod out on the curb, and he quickly snapped one of just me, one with Harriet and me, and another of the three of us.

As a parting gift, Sherman had given my something very special at breakfast: a round 2-it. He had mentioned how people always say they will do things when they “get around to it,” so he figured they shouldn’t be kept waiting for their round 2-its. He took some metal discs (they kind you would hammer out of a j-box, and marked them “2 IT.” So now people will have no excuse not to get those things done that they’ve been putting off while waiting for their round 2-it’s. That little disc is going to be my motivator to finish up this blog timely.

So I began driving. I went about two hundred miles, and filled up my gas tank in Oregon for the last time this trip. I was so glad because it just feels weird not to pump your own gas. That’s just a “thing” for me, I guess. It just feels so inefficient. And I wonder if it’s to protect additional jobs or some safety hazard concern from people topping off their tanks or something.

I reentered California and started whooping and hollering in my car, even bouncing up and down a little. The guy in the car next to me had a nervous look on his face. I didn’t care: I had missed home in some way. As much as I loved Washington and have a desire to live there someday, I think California will always be home base.

I continued driving, considering whether I was rushing through this stretch too fast. I hadn’t even looked at my AAA Tour Book to see if there’s anything I would want to stop and see on my way down. Oh well, seeing friends and family is more important. The experiences on this trip have been amazing, but I think the people I’ve encountered are what have truly made things enriching.

Driving through Redding, I saw a highway alert that the SB 5 was closed in Sacramento for repairs. I had been planning to transfer over to state highway 16 in Sacramento to get out to June Lake, so I would have to wait and see how this played out.

It started getting warm the farther south I drove. On my way down, I got another call from work. My coworker said I’d need to actually look at this, so I told him I’d call back once I could stop someplace. I kept an eye out for a rest stop, and finally found a truck stop where I could also fill up my gas tank again. But it was too hot to sit in my car and try to do this.

So I took my laptop inside to the restaurant, which required passing through two of those security stands that guard stores from theft. My laptop sent those alarms flying off the handle, and yet the store clerks didn’t even look in my direction as I tried to point out that it was just my laptop. I went into the restaurant and ordered some food so they wouldn’t take issue with me opening my laptop and talking on my cell phone. I was able to give my coworker further instructions on the work to be done, but it was very frustrating to lose over 30 minutes of driving in this miserable truck stop with this deplorable food that I only finished because I was starving and didn’t want to go out to my car for some granola bars.

Today I finished reading Confessions of a Jane Austin Addict by Laurie Viera Rigler, which was thoroughly disappointing. That author did well with the self-reflective nature of the heroine, but dropped the ball with some obvious sub-plots, was entirely too graphic in some of her descriptions, and wrote a really stupid ending. I had expected this book to have the flavor of (or at least be tributary to) Jane Austin’s beloved works, but it sorely missed the mark from an author who claims to be such a fan.

Next I opted for Any Place I Hang My Hat: A Novel by Susan Isaacs. I didn’t finish the first chapter on the first CD. Rereading the back, I wondered what I had been thinking when picking it out at the library. I am doing a lousy job at books selection for this road trip (except for the Bible, of course). The John Grisham book I selected and tried to start the trip out with turned out to be the abridged version (a practice I currently detest, even if the author DID approve it). I must have mentally inserted a “un” prefix in my haste at the library. So, from the library, I’m 0 for 3. Onto The Worst Noel, a collection of short stories about Christmases gone awry, sure to alleviate with humor whatever misery the holidays may find you in.

It’s a good thing I didn’t listen to this collection at Christmas because I likely would have killed myself. My first complaint is that the authors are reading their own works, meaning that they usually lack the vocal performance skills to give an engaging auditory experience. The first story was so littered with profanity that one English teacher’s (Carla, 9th grade, second quarter) words echoed in my ears, “Profanity is a sign of a limited vocabulary,” along with Kelly’s (swim coach, high school) words, “Swearing is a feeble attempt by a small-minded person to express an opinion.” I didn’t get more than three minutes in before moving on.

The second story was a half-hearted improvement, but a disappointment still. The narrative was disparaging, and the ending was so depressing that I can’t even write about it. I listened to the third story, but found it very boring. The title of this book is very appropriate, but the subtitle is a little off: these have to be some of the worst holiday short stories I’ve ever subjected myself to. They’re actually bad stories, not bad situations depicted with intelligent heart and humor. I gave up on that collection.

Next was Company Man by Joseph Finder. The synopsis on the back cover was very intriguing, but I was apprehensive about starting an 18-hour book as my trip is winding down. I decided to give it a try since I was about out of choices. The remaining options just looked unappealing now that they’re in my trunk.

As I got closer to Sacramento, I had to make a decision: just go home, or head out to June Lake? I would love to see everyone there, but part of me just really wanted to go home. I could get back two days early and have time to re-establish life. I decided to go to June Lake. This trip is about new experiences and adventures.

I made it through the detour without issue (shocking, given my track record, I know), and pulled off at another gas station. I wanted to have full tank headed into the Yosemite area since prices would be much higher there. From the gas station, I called Lydia to confirm the directions that she had e-mailed to me about getting to the cabin. I didn’t think I’d get there tonight, but I was going to get as far as I could.

I continued south on highway 16, and soon merged over to highway 49. That route actually drove me past a hospital client I had last year, which brought back some pleasant memories for me and Serena. This was her second client with me, and it was the one where she finally told me her name.

It was about 11 p.m. when I finally decided to stop. I had just arrived at the 108, and was thinking about taking it to go around Yosemite since the entrance gate would be closed. I wanted to purchase an annual pass, and I didn’t know how that would work. I started on the 108 to go the long way around the north end, but almost immediately saw a Walmart in some obscure town that I was about to pass.

I decided this would be our stopping point. I wasn’t tired, but I was worn out. I put my curtains up quickly. I had driven 850 miles today. Wow! That’s probably a personal record for me.

Day 16 - 06/17/2008

2008-06-24T22:56:00.000-07:00

Sherman and Harriet start their morning just before breakfast by reading through the Bible and in prayer for missions and family. They’re nearing the end of 1 Corinthians in their progression through the Bible. We had a nice breakfast and I finished the milk as promised last night.

I then emptied the rest of my backseat cargo into the hallway to make room for my passengers. Sherman and Harriet were going to take me to see the Columbia River Gorge. Harriet packed some snacks for us, and we were off. Sherman was in front with me, and Harriet sat behind him.

Before hitting the road, I wanted to stop at Powell’s Bookstore again. They had some books on sale on my last visit, and upon checking Amazon, I learned they were a bargain at Powell’s. So I stopped to buy them, and it gave Sherman and Harriet a chance to see the store. Sherman had been once or twice before, but this was Harriet’s first visit. She liked it, but she knew the beauty of where we were going next, so she wasn’t as enraptured as I was on my first visit.

Sherman had asked a clerk for directions to the gorge from here, and had some very clear directions that didn’t match our starting point. He knew exactly the first street to turn on, but wasn’t sure which way to go to get to it. I turned as he directed, and we found a completely different path that got us on the freeway where we needed to go. He and I have a lot in common.

Our mini side trip got us to the 84 headed east, and a few miles down the road, I pulled off as Sherman instructed. We would be driving along a parallel (not mathematically, but geographically) highway that would offer a beautiful view of the sights. We had entered the Columbia River Gorge National Scenic Area.

Harriet mentioned that there was a Foursquare retreat (Crestview Manor Conference Center) along this road, and I wanted to see it. We figured there was no harm in asking about getting a quick tour. It turns out there was. Jr. High campers were just about to show up, and for security reasons, they had a closed camp, and had to ask us to leave. They were very nice about the whole thing, though. So we walked to my car, and I pulled out of the parking space in the dirt lot. We all heard a scrapping noise as I turned. I had forgotten the rocks lining the corner parking spaces. I got out to check the damage and saw Serena’s new beauty mark on her front left bumper. But it was worth it because I saw something amazing. I saw a speed limit 9.5 mph sign. I don’t steal road signs, and would never consider committing such a crime. But never before have I wanted to more than in that moment.

Our next stop was the Portland Women’s forum, which was actually just a view point for pictures. Sherman was disappointed at all the cloud cover in his attempt to get some nice pictures with his new camera, but I was pretty content with it. While we were there, I asked another visitor there to take a picture of the three of us.

I was taking several pictures, both in and out of my car. Even though I had charged my batteries last night, the rechargeable ones started dying on me today. This seems to happen on the first attempt to charge a set. I think in the future, I just need to unplug the charge station when it first says it’s done, and plug it in to go again. Thankfully I had some one-time use ones in my trunk. But Sherman was really showing me up with his serious photography efforts: he had a nicer camera, and had brought a tripod along. Wow. But he did plan his shots more meticulously, and really reaped the fruits of his labor.

We stopped at a few places along the scenic route, one being Wakheena Falls. We walked over to the base, and I took some pictures from there. I saw a sign, saying that the bridge across a higher point (most of the way up the falls) was only 0.2 miles up, I left my keys with Sherman and started hiking. It was obviously a steep hike, but short nonetheless. I got some amazing pictures up there, and then dashed back down. Sherman had gone off on his own to take some scenery pictures, and Harriet and I had a little trouble finding him at first.

Returning to the car, we headed over to Multnomah Falls, which we more spectacular in size, but under-impressive by the tourism surrounding it. This area had actually stores set up around the falls. We took some pictures, and returned to the car.

We passed a third waterfall, and Sherman asked if I wanted to stop. I figured I had enough pictures of waterfalls, so we pressed on to lunch. We stopped in at a café similar to Fuddruckers (cafeteria style, only with more of a hunting lodge feel than retro) for lunch.

We had been driving along the Oregon side, but decided upon leaving to go back along the Washington side to get some different pictures. We crossed the Bridge of the Gods (yes, that’s really what this toll bridge was called), and started westward along Highway 14.

We hadn’t gone far when we came upon the Bonneville dam. Sine I don’t see many dams, I found this pretty cool, so Sherman and I got out to take some pictures. Harriet didn’t feel like climbing out, so I brought her a couple of the beautiful flowers we saw from our vantage point of the dam.

Many of my readers who know me know that when something strikes me as REALLY funny, I can laugh for a long time. This usually ends with me out-of-breath, in pain, and red in the face. I love to laugh, and so it works for me. Well, prepare to groan, because this is a terribly bad joke. As we were driving, Sherman mentioned that this highway runs all the way through to Idaho. Harriet broke in, and mentioned that it was in the other direction, and I couldn’t help but chide Sherman with the comment that it would take a long time to get Idaho going westward from Washington. Not missing a beat, he deadpanned slowly for effect, “Ha. Ha. That’s about as funny as a screen door on a submarine.” And I just lost it as I fell into fits of laughter. I know it’s goofy, and ridiculous, but I still laugh as I’m typing this journal a week later. Sherman mentioned to Harriet that they need to keep me around, but I don’t think Harriet wanted him to get this kind of encouragement. I even pulled over to get a picture, and had a hard time standing up straight because I would keep doubling over.

I recovered several minutes later, and Harriet mentioned that we were approaching some store. Sherman mentioned to her that we could stop only if the pilot allowed, and I was more than happy to oblige. This place was called Pendleton Woolen Mills, and it’s a clothing store. I didn’t completely understand the uniqueness of it, but I did know that Pendleton was several hours eastward of our current location. They had some pretty nice clothing, and I tried on some pairs of pants, but didn’t find anything I thought was worth buying.

We arrived back home around 4 p.m., Harriet and I wearied from the journey. Sherman strangely wasn’t. I had a call from work to return, and after about 30 minutes of that, I returned to the dining room to find Harriet proposing root beer floats. I figured I had hiked enough this trip, although not today, to earn it, so we indulged. The root beer was of some fancy imported variety, and was very good. As a policy, I don’t drink soda anymore, only granting rare exception to occasions such as these, and it was very refreshing.

The sugar didn’t do anything to wake us up, so while Sherman tinkered around with his new printer (free after rebate with the camera), Harriet and I retired to our respective bedrooms. We had tried to avoid taking naps so late in the day, but it was inevitable. I journaled for no more than fifteen minutes before conking out.

Two hours later, I emerged. Harriet had slept almost as long, and we were both glad we had slept. Harriet fixed a delicious dinner for us, and then we broke out a deck of cards. Sherman and Harriet are avid Pinochle players, and I wanted to learn, but apparently you need four players for standard play. So they decided to teach me a game they called “Crazy Bridge.” Only later would I learn that I already knew this game, under the guise of “Up & Down the River.”

After dinner and the game, we all headed to bed. I journaled for awhile, trying to get sleepy. Finally, sleep came to me.

Day 15 - 06/16/2008

2008-06-23T22:20:00.000-07:00

I got a lot of text messages last night and this morning, one from my friend Daniel. He recently moved to Idaho, and we were hoping to meet up. We made plans to meet for lunch, and then I started with my morning.

I have been here so long that I had been leaving my shampoo and stuff in the shower here. Today made me keenly aware that my time in Spokane was ending as I packed it all back up.

I went upstairs for breakfast, and spent it with Roxie, Grayson and Kayla. We had English Muffins, yogurt, and fruit. I had a chance to talk with Roxie and tell her that my parents had some books on missionaries that we had used, offering to send them up to her. We talked for a little while about their homeschooling, and Grayson happened to mention that Abraham Lincoln was a hero of his, something we have in common. Grayson and Kayla played me some more songs on their fiddles. The first was Ashokan Farewell, a Civil War tune that brought tears to my eyes. It had such a sorrowful melody that echoed the travesty of lives lost in that war.

I spent some time blogging, trying to catch up on my journals. My time here has been so filled with activities that I have fallen a few days behind. I got to my cut-off time to get ready to leave, and shut down the computer to start packing. I packed the car up again, said my good-byes (giving Grayson my address and having him try some of Grandma’s rhubarb sauce that had almost forgotten to take), and hit the road bound for Idaho.

As I left the freeway in Coeur d’Alene to meet Daniel, I was shocked to gas for only $3.67/gallon. I was disappointed that I had only used little more than a gallon of my filled tank. I met Daniel and his friend Louie, in whose basement Daniel is currently staying. We walked over to this burger joint, and had one of the best cheeseburgers I have ever consumed. The cook had a pan full of raw hamburger meat, and would just pull out meat to form patties as he cooked. It was a small establishment, with only a wrap-around counter for seating, but we managed to find three seats together. We talked about Daniel’s move up here, and the triathlon they’re both training for (something to shoot for one day after my marathon).

After lunch I got back on the road headed for Vancouver, WA. I needed to get to Sherman and Harriet’s tonight because we were going to spend the next day together. I had wanted to spend more time with them on my way up, but was crunched for time.

Today I started my first book on CD that I had brought with me, Confessions of a Jane Austin Addict. It’s about a modern-day woman whose life is in emotional turmoil, which somehow causes a body swap with a 19th century woman in comparable emotional predicaments. The premise seemed brilliant and promising, but so far it is only mildly living up to expectations. I only keep listening to find out how the heroine gets back to her own time and life. I passed the halfway mark of the 7.5 hours during my driving today.

I was headed west on the 70, and Amy had sent me a message prior to my trip, saying that I needed to stop in a town called Ritzville, that there was some place there where I needed to try their amazing ice cream and see their restroom. She didn’t give me the name of the place, but just the address.

It took a lot of wrong turns to finally narrow down where it was, because few streets are actually marked. I finally found Killian’s Country Creamery and went inside. I walked inside and there were two very bored-looking high school girls behind the counter. I bought an ice cream cone, and started walking around the store. There was a photo booth with pictures taped all over the exterior. A sign was posted asking patrons to donate one of the photos printed to the wall, saying that tape and scissors were available at the counter. I had a thought, and started scouring the photos. Sure enough, I found a picture of Amy and her coworkers from a stop they had made there.

Then it was time to try this bathroom. I had no idea what to expect, but was guessing a huge cow statue or something. Nothing could have prompted me to guess what I’d see: the rest of the store. I walked in to the first bathroom, only to discover that I could see the entire store through a one-way mirror covering an entire wall. It was absolutely freaky. I hadn’t looked at this wall from the outside, but thought it was a mirror from the outside. It was too weird to think of going to the bathroom in there because even if you don’t have an audience, you feel as though you do because you can see them. So I ducked into the next one, which was thankfully without such a wall. Upon leaving I sent Amy a text message thanking her for the surprise.

As it turned out, Ritzville was the city for my turn-off from I-90 to state highway 395. I was following the sign for it, but became absorbed in my book. It was 40 miles later before I realized that I had stayed on I-90. Thankfully, I figured it out just in time to find that the upcoming state highway 17 would also take me south and meet up with the 395. So I wasn’t entirely efficient in my travels, but at least I didn’t have to backtrack. I despise backtracking.

Sherman had told me on my last visit to stop in Kettleman City for cheap gas, but $4.17/gallon didn’t seem cheap compared to what I had seen in Idaho earlier this morning. And then I almost got lost trying to get back on the freeway, because I had pulled off at a juncture of three or four freeways/highways.

I pressed on, and soon took a break from my book to call Dad and wish him a belated Father’s Day. Mom had helped me take care of a gift we knew he’d like, so at least that was on time. Because of my cell phone dying on my hike yesterday, I hadn’t been able to call him after my hike. I then called Sherman to confirm my arrival at his and Harriet’s house tonight. We figured that I’d be arriving about 9 or 10 p.m.

I wanted to get over to Vancouver, but the scenery was so gorgeous that I couldn’t help pulling over at designated View Points to take several pictures. This is such a beautiful drive. As I continued on, I called my friend Joanna to catch up. She’s in the process of moving, and had an unusual problem to deal with: ducks had settled in her pool. As I laughed over this, she also gave me a lecture about eating peanut butter while driving.

Along my trip, I’ve been scanning for local radio stations. I have frequently found KLove, a Christian music station that I have access to in Fresno. But I was very surprised to find “The Fish” radio station while surfing through stations today on break from my book. That one is in Orange County, and I hadn’t come across it before in any of my travels outside of Southern California. That was a memory of home.

As I took Exit 3 off of Highway 14 as Sherman had instructed, I found myself lost. I called Sherman, and after a lot of U-turns, we realized I just hadn’t gone far enough on the road I was originally on. I thought I had gone too far because I passed another entrance to highway 14.

I finally arrived and carried my stuff inside. Harriet put together a snack for us, and Sherman insisted I drink all the milk left in the carton. I told him I’d finish it in the morning with breakfast. We made some basic plans for tomorrow, and headed to bed. After typing for awhile (still trying to catch up), I collapsed, exhausted from today.

Day 14 - 06/15/2008

2008-06-20T22:26:00.000-07:00

I had set my alarm for 9 a.m., and woke up to shower and get ready. I went upstairs for breakfast, and ate with Todd and Kayla, the only ones out of their rooms thus far. Todd told me they had an iron, and told me where to retrieve it. I brought it up from the laundry area because there was music (they almost always have praise music playing lightly in the main rooms upstairs) and the family up there. I started ironing, but some of the rust on the iron’s face started to come off on my shirt. I iron them on the inside, and it hadn’t set in as a permanent stain, so it will come out, but figured it best just to go over to Amy’s to finish the job.
As I walked back upstairs, I met Roxie fixing up Kayla’s long dark tresses, and she said how glad she was that I had become part of their family. I was so touched by her saying that. I talked with Roxie for a little about their church, and was glad to learn they had found one that fit them so well.

I dashed over to Amy’s, and she let me in to iron in her kitchen while she finished getting ready. The placemat kept bunching, and I ended up just using the flat countertop, which worked pretty well. I finished getting ready before Amy, and so I got a little journaling done as I waited.

Amy drove us the short distance to her church, Mirabeau Chapel. Ruby and Sarah M. met us in the foyer. Since they just moved here, they’re trying out different churches. Amy had said this was a Foursquare church, but I didn’t see Hebrews 13:8 on the walls anywhere. I planned to ask for a doctrinal statement at the information table later. Then I looked through the program. On the back, I saw a staff listing, noticing five associate pastors, as well as someone on staff for “illuminate performing arts.” Yep, this was probably a Foursquare church.

As we walked in, an usher was holding raffle tickets and asked if I was a dad. I almost said yes because of all my dorm daughters, but decided that probably didn’t count with them. During the service, two associate pastors and the senior pastor did the drawing. They prefaced it with a discussion that Fathers Day typically has very low church attendance, particularly among men. On their day, many dads don’t want to spend “their day” that way. On the flip side, Mothers Day typically has the third highest attendance numbers, following Christmas and Easter. This is because for Mothers Day, moms want “the whole family to go to church together” (we all echoed this with the pastor) on “their day.”

So they drew five tickets. The first four were for recliners at the back of the sanctuary with Dad’s Root Beer and Krispy Kreme doughnuts to consume at will, and it made me glad I hadn’t gotten a ticket to have the possibility of being tempted with that junk food for over an hour straight. But the fifth ticket made me regret not getting one. It was a $50 gift card to Home Depot.

To give the sermon, the senior pastor Craig had asked his adult son Scott to co-preach with him that morning. Their message was entitled “Things I Learned About God from My Kids.” The topics were 1) Uniqueness (Gen 1:27, 1 Cor 12:18), 2) Gratitude (1 Thes 5:18), 3) Pride (Matt 3:17), and 4) Delight (Ps 37:4). It was a very neat message, and very funny to hear the family’s anecdotes. They even brought Scott’s 2-year-old son Hayden up to the front near the end of the message, and there were lots of “awwww’s” from the audience every time he did something cute.

We had been told during the service to turn in our information cards at the visitor center for a welcome gift. We stopped by there and it took awhile because the woman manning the booth had run out of the welcome mugs. She said they get a lot of visitors, but they did find some for us. They were nice-sized coffee mugs with a Hershey bar, a welcome note, and a gift certificate for a free beverage at their coffee bar (which strangely was closed).

After church, Amy and I rushed back to her place to change for Lisa’s graduation BBQ. Amy wanted to bring something, and decided to guess at a casserole with the leftover pasta from last night sans sauce, cheese bits, peas, mayo, and raspberry vinaigrette dressing. We would later discover that it didn’t work. She also brought Kool-Aid.

The BBQ was a lot of fun. The ribs and chicken were both amazingly delicious, and I was able to meet some more people in Amy’s life. I met her friends Aaron and Sarah B., as well other friends of Lisa’s: Laura, Elise, and Elise’s husband (whose name I’ve forgotten). Aaron is in the Moody program, and is from Michigan. Sarah B. used to be in the Moody program, but decided not to pursue it. She’s in the process of getting her degree from Biola, and is from Colorado. We were really able to connect through both having lived in Southern California. Laura is from Texas, and like Lisa, is doing her first few years at SCC and will transfer into the Moody Aviation program later on.

Elise and her husband are an older couple who used to live near Lisa and her family in Northern California, but now live over in Idaho. They are to her like Don & Barbara in North Fork are to me: a set of pseudo-grandparents looking out for her in her new home. I also met Placer, a huge dog (I’m not sure what breed). I’m not sure who she belonged to (Lisa and some other girls are renting this house we were celebrating at), but thankfully she wasn’t too drawn to me. Placer did really like Amy, though, who does like dogs.

Brian was at the BBQ and asked what I was doing after this. I told him that Amy had lost her To-Do list of places to take me, to which she nodded in agreement. So he invited me to hike Mt. Spokane with him and D.J. (Sarah M.’s brother) that afternoon. He gave me about ten minutes to decide, and since Amy didn’t mind, I accepted. He said the hike would only be about forty minutes up to the top, so I figured I’d still have the evening to hang out with Amy.

I left with Brian in Rosy, his 1987 Lincoln Town Car, and we went back to his house to grab a few things. Thank goodness I didn’t follow Amy’s advice and wear sandals to the BBQ. I borrowed a sweater from Brian because there was snow expected at the top. We then headed over to rendezvous with D.J. He’s a cool guy, and as I got to know him, I was really glad to have him on the hike. They are both finishing their first year at Moody. It was a long drive to the base of the hiking trail. We passed a circle intersection, and Brian told D.J. and me that he held the record of making 25 consecutive circles at that intersection, and put D.J. in charge of tracking if any of the new starts next fall tried to beat it. The drive up gave me a chance to ask both the guys about their particular calling to be missionary pilots. For both of them it came later, as Brian had spent a couple years at San Jose State, and D.J. already had his bachelor’s degree from a school in New York. I love hearing the stories of the people in this program. I think it can be harder for those who have already put in some time at school to get a calling from God to essentially start over. I’ve been impressed at the humility the older guys display, being back in school with guys just graduating high school.

We entered Mt. Spokane State Park, and parked at the base of the trail. We grabbed Gatorade, cameras, sweaters, and started up. Brian also brought his pistol, which apparently he always carries (he has a license to carry a concealed weapon in the state of Washington). I’m learning that Spokane is a very unsafe area with a high degree of crime, and that several guys even in the program are always packing.

We initially had two options for out hike: the road or the trail. We opted for the trail to start. None of us were expecting this, but there was still a lot of snow (sometimes a couple feet deep) on the ground even at the base of the trail. I learned that snow is difficult to hike in. I was quickly out of breath, but don’t think I slowed them down too much. I think I needed to stop for a minute or two only twice the whole hike, and other than that kept up pretty well with them. Brian had asked on the way up if I walk fast. I almost laughed as I responded in the affirmative, thinking of how many people complain that they can’t keep up with my normal stride. I was glad I hadn’t told that detail to him because it probably would have encouraged him to faster still.

I would pause and take pictures periodically, and Brian would authoritatively warn me that I was wasting my pictures as the top was that much better. I was skeptical and kept snapping away. I’ve been on a few mountaintops, and I don’t think the view could be that spectacular not to take pictures of the beauty on the way up.

D.J. was stopping along the way to look for new small trees to take back down the mountain and plant. Craig had talked about doing the same thing, and so I ended up joining D.J. in grabbing a few for Craig. What surprised me was the method. D.J. was uprooting them, claiming that they could just be replanted upon getting back down. I was skeptical, but I certainly had no desire to dig up and carry dirt down with me, so I didn’t argue.

We alternated between the three ways of ascending this mountain: following the paved road (slowest option), following the clear foot trail, and just going straight up the side (not a climb as much as a STEEP hike). Each afforded us some new perspective on the whole experience. We abandoned the trail and road near the top and started going straight up, climbing up hills and over rocks.

Getting to the top and looking around offered an unbelievable view. There were marked poles where metal tubes were attached, guiding the viewer to lakes and other areas visible to the naked eye. But just walking around offered witness to God’s majestic creation. I took a lot of photos, and Brian got out his fancy camera to take several pictures. He wanted some pictures with D.J., and gave me a quick tutorial on his camera, describing the shots he wanted. I like Brian because not only is he particular, but also decisive. We took some pictures of the three of us after the short photo shoot.

There were two antenna towers at the top, which helped guide us after we left the trail. Brian wanted us to climb one of them. D.J. decided not to, but I figured that I really don’t do enough stupid things, and decided to go for it. I have a fear of falling that kicks in intermittently, but seeing how well anchored the antenna tower was helped erase the possibility that the tower might collapse. D.J. photographed us as we climbed. I was still experiencing trepidations, so I climbed cautiously. Brian, however, scurried up to the top and started looking around. He yelled down that he saw a sign about disconnecting some wire before removing a faceplate to avoid radiation. He didn’t see anything to disconnect, and thankfully he had no desire to encounter radiation (much less expose us as well), so he started climbing down.

I was still climbing at that point, very ambiguous about when to stop and go back down. I started singing “‘Tis So Sweet to Trust in Jesus” to keep me going. I finally made it to the top, and climbed back down with a great sense of satisfaction.

On our way back down, as D.J. and I were pulling up trees, Brian stumbled upon something lying on the ground. It looked like the top two feet of a walking cane. It turned out that the plastic handle pulled out from the metal tube to reveal an encased knife, very much like a saw blade. We had no idea how it had been left behind since it seemed like a personal weapon rather than a forestry tool.

There were mosquitoes and biting flies (apparently called “face flies,” we would later learn), and Brian was getting bitten without mercy. D.J. and I were pretty much untouched. Mosquitoes don’t seem to like my blood (thank goodness!) because I always seem fine whenever people complain about them. I did get one bite, though. Those face flies were actually leaving open wounds and causing blood to trickle down Brian’s legs at a few bite marks. He wasn’t happy about those.

When we arrived back at Brian’s car, there was a note held in position by the windshield wiper. At first Brian thought it was a parking ticket, but then saw that it was a personal note. Some friends of theirs from the Moody program had also been hiking and recognized Brian’s car when they got back down themselves. They invited us over for some pizza at their nearby cabin. We stopped and were very grateful for the sustenance (pizza, veggies and potato salad). I met Dan and his girlfriend Brooke, and both of their sets of parents.

It was a long drive back, and my cell phone had died. We used Brian’s phone to call Amy and asked her to pick me up at Brian’s house. We talked more about California, my road trip, Brian’s upcoming summer travels, and several other things. There was something that prompted a high-five, and Brian commented on how soft my hands were. I realized that was the first time he had touched my hands, since he hugs everyone, and we had only hugged hello and good-bye, never shaking hands.

We returned to the house to find Amy, Ruby, Sarah B. and Sarah M. sitting at the top of the driveway near the garage, having a tea party. I’m not sure if there was even really tea in the teapot. We waited for Brian to burn me a CD of his pictures.

As we left the house, the girls started giggling and running to the car. They hurried me through putting my stuff away and getting in myself, and Amy drove off screeching her tires through several turns and laughter exploded in the car. It took awhile to get it out of them because they were in hysterics, but I finally learned they had stolen all the toilet paper from the house. As funny as the act itself was in the moment, I felt terrible for the guys. They were about to have a potentially difficult house meeting, and that problem certainly wasn’t going to help the tensions there.

We went back to Amy’s apartment. The girls had just started watching P.S. I Love You before they came over to pick me up. I wanted to stay and watch the movie with them, but I needed to get home and to bed so that I could be rested for the road tomorrow. So I just set up my computer to unload my pictures.

I finished transferring my pictures and typing out an outline for today, and then shut down my computer. I waved good-bye to the girls, not wanting to interrupt the movie. Amy followed me out to walk me to my car and say good-bye. I am so glad I came to see her and her life here. I think her move was a really good one for her, and I can see how God has blessed her. As much as I miss having her nearby, I can see that this is where she needs to be.

Some More Pictures

2008-06-19T00:53:00.000-07:00

Day 11
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2002689&l=b11ec&id=150900395

Day 12
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2002690&l=ba14a&id=150900395

Day 13
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2002691&l=73c56&id=150900395

Day 13 - 06/14/2008

2008-06-18T23:55:00.000-07:00

I slept with my sleep goggles last night, and after such a long day yesterday, it was 8:45 when Todd finally knocked on my door. Breakfast would be ready in 25 minutes, and we were having company. I was glad for the advance warning because I had just enough time to get a shower in before breakfast. So much for walking the centennial trail (the walking trail Amy showed me my first night here) early this morning.

I met Lisa, a good friend of Amy’s. She is graduating from the community college here and will be entering the Moody Aviation program midway later on. Her parents Ron & Julie had flown up from California for her graduation and to move her back down there for the time being. So we had a breakfast with all Californians that morning. Roxie mentioned that Brian would be sorry to have missed this. Being from San Jose, he loves it when everyone in the group is from California. I would later learn that Brian is also dating Lisa.

I typed for little while down in my room, trying to catch up on my travel blog. I had considered going to donate blood plasma, and pestered Mike S. for most of the morning with specific questions about where, how long it takes, etc. The first time going can take up to four hours (reduced by more than half on return trips), and I knew I didn’t have that much time on my hands before Amy would be off of work.

After typing some more, I went upstairs to forage for a mid-morning snack to tide me over until lunch. Roxie called out from the living room that I was part of the family and should act accordingly, so I made a sandwich from what I found in the fridge.

I saw Grayson in the backyard raking pine needles. At first I went out to talk with him for a little while and to get some pictures of their spacious backyard, but I ended up picking up a rake to help him. It was a nice time for us to hang out, talking about how God brings people together. We had over half of the yard raked when Amy called to tell me to hit the road and to call for further directions when I had reached a certain interim destination. Imagine my Type-A glee at only having part of the directions to where I was going.

Amy had planned for us to meet at Subway, but learned that there wasn’t one near her work. So the lunch locale was changed to Pita Pit. Poor Amy was very distracted as she had been trying to coordinate the arrival of five people for the day’s adventure. She was also trying to order food for us while directing us all. I missed a turn during a “hold on” moment, but Amy recovered me, and I arrived unscathed. She apologized for her bad mood, and was quickly able to snap out of it through some good company and conversation. Ruby was already there, and Lisa and her parents showed up soon after I did.

Lisa told us that she had wanted an ice cream sandwich, and found that it was cheaper to buy a pack of six than one from the standalone freezer. So she brought the rest to share. Ruby, Amy and I each had one, but her parents passed. Trying to decide what to do, Amy suggested offering them to the people working at Pita Pit. I didn’t think they’d be able to accept them, but realized that FDA regulations probably wouldn’t apply since they wouldn’t be selling them. They were very grateful. That felt nice to do that since we had stayed so long after ordering our food.

Ruby had to go to work, and Amy and I would see her later. But the remaining five of us were going in the meantime to Manito Park (after leaving my car at Amy’s work), which had specific garden areas: a Japanese garden, Lilac garden, Rose garden, greenhouse, outdoor courtyard, etc. We all loved it. Ron and I were taking probably every picture possible, and the women were very patient with us. Amy was really great and would take one of our cameras periodically so that we would be in our own pictures.

From there, Lisa and her parents left to go do a little more sightseeing and packing, and Amy and I would go see Ruby at Starbucks where she was working. Amy remembered that we had passed St. John’s Cathedral, and we had wanted to stop and see it. I looked at Amy’s car clock and saw that it was 4:40. The marquee said that there was a Eucharist at 5:30. I hoped we’d get a tour in before they started. We went around the back and tried a few doors. A very nice woman (I forgot to ask her name) came to the door, and said our best chance for a tour was after tomorrow’s service, as there was one going right now. This puzzled me, but I wasn’t going to argue with the woman. I thought about this as we rounded the church, and finally exclaimed loudly, “Oh! Your clock is an hour behind!” I had forgotten from yesterday that Scott and I had noticed and tried to fix it. Amy had yelped out, “Don’t! You’ll mess me up!” So we took a lot of pictures of the gorgeous Gothic exterior.

We noticed an open door, and people coming and going occasionally, and couldn’t resist trying to see how far in we could get unnoticed. We saw the pianist with her back to us, but couldn’t see around to the congregation. Amy got her attention and asked which way the congregation was facing. They were facing away from us, and the pianist graciously said we could walk quietly around to other areas of the cathedral, as the Eucharist was only in one small sectioned-off area.

We quietly moved around and were amazed at the beauty surrounding us. Amy had wanted me to see a prayer labyrinth that she, Roxie and Kayla had found on a prior tour. They were very puzzled and concerned by the unclear information describing it, and she wanted my opinion on it. But when we got to where she remembered it being, it had been replaced by pews.

Walking to the foyer, we saw the visitor book. We had no idea that this would be our favorite part of the church. We flipped through to see who had visited on each of our birthdays: 4/23 (mine) and 8/1 (hers) in years past. As we would read some of the comments, we found some that were absolutely hysterical! “This church rulz!” “Gothic Rocks,” “Congratulations Paul,” and so many others.

Leaving the Cathedral, I only had about 20 picture slots left on my memory card, so I attempted to ration my pictures to make it to day’s end.

We wandered through Spokane, trying to find Ruby’s Starbucks. Ruby had told Amy the cross streets, but she had forgotten, and was so glad that I had listened in. I hadn’t completely remembered myself, so we called Sarah M., who didn’t really know either. But somehow between the three of us, Amy drove us there. When we arrived, Amy bought me a Captain Crunch drink. Ruby had teased us with mention of it at lunch, and I was desperately curious to try it. She modifies a Strawberries & Cream drink, and somehow it tastes and smells exactly like a bowl of Captain Crunch berries cereal. It’s amazing! Amy had Ruby surprise her, and got a mocha-something that I think would have tasted good if not for the coffee aftertaste.

We were hanging out waiting for Sarah M. to arrive, and walked around. This is the biggest Starbucks I have ever seen, probably double the size of the average one, allowing a lot more seating. We found it interesting because we were two of a few patrons that evening. There was a story on a huge posterboard on the wall that started well, became strange & confusing, and ended mid-sentence. We asked Ruby (as Sarah M. would also) where the rest of the story was, but she didn’t know. She only recently started working there, and hadn’t noticed the incomplete nature.

I saw a chess set in the corner, and asked Amy to join me in a game. Amy knows the mechanics of Chess (what pieces move in which fashion), but has no care for strategy. Somehow, though, she would manage to confound most every strategy I attempted, by mere accident. I was clearly winning by points, but really was having a hard time getting after her king. I reminded me of the Adventures in Odyssey episode where Eugene is beat at Chess by Bernard, and goes into a manic state trying to figure out how it could happen. I did win, finally opting for the simple strategy of just dwindling her other pieces.

Sarah arrived later, and after talking for awhile, we discussed what next to do. Sarah really wanted to go see The Happening, but I really didn’t have an interest in being on the edge of my seat all evening. We finally decided to meet back at Amy’s and watch Pay It Forward, since we all liked tear-jerkers. Since we hadn’t eaten, Amy and I stopped at Safeway to pick up some pasta and sauce for spaghetti.

Amy needed gas for her car, and insisted she knew where to get $3.99/gallon. I was impressed, and we actually found it at another station, sooner in our path than she expected. After subsequently picking up Serena, who was also getting thirsty, we just headed further back to her apartment to find her known place. As it turns out, that place was $4.02/gallon. She felt bad that she had gotten a better deal and offered to lead me to another place, but I have gotten to where I don’t care about the extra 3 cents per gallon in an 11-gallon tank. I’ll avoid surcharges of similar amount by paying cash if possible, but I won’t continue driving and burning gas to hopefully find a cheaper rate.

We were planning to go straight to Amy’s apartment, and I was following her, but my eyes suddenly became very dry. Since I needed eye drops and they were all back at the Elton House, I diverted course. I tried to get Amy’s attention by calling her cell, honking, and flashing my lights, but it was almost five minutes before she noticed me missing and pulled over to call me. I told her I’d meet her at her place and headed off in the other direction. I grabbed my laptop along with my drops, and after a few minutes of talking with the family, I headed out.

Amy cooked dinner, and really didn’t want my input as to when the sauce was done. She says she doesn’t boss me around in my kitchen and that I should reciprocate, but I seem to remember her being somewhat stubborn in my kitchen, too. I picked my battles, though, and didn’t pick this one. The dinner was very good. I used the cooking time to free up my camera’s memory card by moving pictures over to my laptop. I have taken over 2,400 pictures thus far, requiring 2.7 GB of hard drive space.

Mike S. came over to watch the movie with Ruby, Sarah M., Amy and myself. I usually cry at touching movies, but the waterworks really came on for this one. The scenes that hit me the hardest were when Helen Hunt’s character pays it forward to her mom, and during the candle vigil.

During the movie Ella came out to join us. She came right up to me and touched her nose to my ear, which caused me to jump up because I was so shocked at something wet touching me. She darted away, but later even let me pet her. I didn’t find out until the movie that it was Ella and not Rock. I had heard Amy say that it was three weeks before Ella let Amy pet her, and I figured Rock had been let out for while.

After the movie, Sarah M. told us a work story. As I mentioned, I think she works for a vet or an animal shelter. Don’t read the rest of this paragraph if you are a severe animal lover. She told a story about this older woman who brought in her tiny sick dog (a chihuahua) wrapped in a blanket like a newborn, with pink liquid dried all over its mouth. The woman had been giving it Pepto-Bismol because it had been having diarrhea. Before even finishing checking them in, the receptionist took a look at the dog, and asked to see him. She showed him directly to the vet standing nearby, and confirmed her suspicions. The dog was dead. Long dead. At least a full day, probably longer. This dog was stiff. This poor woman had been force-feeding Pepto-Bismol to a dead dog, and she had no clue. So she had come in expecting to have her dog restored to full health, only to be told that her dog was already dead. Forgive our lack of humanity, but we were howling with laughter. I’m not back to laughing at death unfortunately, but this story was a nice reminder of those days when I did.

Mike S. had taken off immediately after the movie because he was leaving for Wisconsin tomorrow. Ruby and Sarah soon followed. I stayed behind a little longer to copy my pictures from the past two days over to Amy’s computer. We went over to her computer desk, and I plugged my flash drive into the back of her tower. She said it might be better for her to do it because it was so slow and I might get frustrated. I didn’t think it could be too bad, and stayed at the controls. The slow speed didn’t bother me too much, but the mouse was terribly sticky. I told Amy she needed to clean it, and she insisted that she only needed a mouse pad. I turned it over, and without even pulling out the ball, I saw fuzz on it. Like I mentioned, I pick my battles.

After I transferred the pictures, we discussed our church plans. I realized I’d need an iron for my church clothes again. Amy had an iron but no ironing board, and I realized I could just use her kitchen counter, cushioned by a placemat.

So I went back home (the Elton House has begun to feel like home) and let myself in the back with the key they’d given me since all the lights were out. I opened my computer and tried to catch up on my journals and e-mail, but I didn’t make too much of a dent before calling it a night. Thankfully church didn’t start until 11, so I wouldn’t have to be up too early.

Day 12 - 06/13/2008

2008-06-18T23:27:00.000-07:00

I dutifully woke up for breakfast at 6:45, but couldn’t help wondering why it was planned for so early. It turns out that the guys who were still around had to go check in at Moody for the day just be available for things that might come up or to turn in projects.

Todd asked me how I slept, admitting that he had forgotten to warn me about the trains. I simply replied “What trains?” I am sleeping well here. I didn’t awake to any planes either. We had steak and eggs for breakfast, and took it outside for Todd to lead a devotional time for the guys. It was a reflective time, looking back at God’s blessings over the past year. Todd discussed the proper perspective in looking back, as Paul tells us in Philippians 3 not to look back, but Peter tells us to look back. We need to look back at our lives with a heavenly perspective of what God has done, not with a view of own accomplishments. It was a beautiful morning, and the fire pit in the backyard was a perfect setting for this.

I was up for the day, and knew I wouldn’t fall back asleep, so I started about my day. I showered and got a load of laundry going. Then I went upstairs and opened my laptop. I continued my blogging, alternating between that and knitting some more. I talked with Roxie, Grayson & Kayla a lot that morning. Kayla and Frank knit also, so they were interested in my progress on Victoria’s scarf.

Roxie homeschools Grayson and Kayla, and they were having a slow start to the morning. Their routine is off because the guys are now out of school. Roxie and Kayla hadn’t gotten up for breakfast this morning, so they ate and Grayson & I joined them with a snack. Frank, Mike #2 and Bryce came back from Moody and joined us for lunch. They only had to check in today and were allowed to leave almost immediately after arriving, which was a pleasant surprise to them. Lunch was make-it-yourself, so I put together a quick PB&J sandwich, noticing they had Lingonberry jam (Swedish berries you find incorporated into food at Ikea). We all talked about Frank leaving for Africa today, and he seemed so at ease about the whole process. He was going to spend four days in Maine with family before leaving the continent, but it’s still an imminent big change for him. That’s a peace I want to find.

I saw a Dehydrator for the first time. This road trip has been full of firsts for me, and this is a cool one. This machine sucks the moisture out of food to make things like dried fruit or beef jerky. The interesting thing is that its process speed is affected by the moisture in the air. On dry days, I can do a thing of beef jerky in 6-8 hours, but with a lot of moisture in the air it can be over 14 hours.

Breakfast and lunch dishes were cleared, and Roxie began the morning school devotional with Grayson and Kayla, allowing me to join in as well. I want to get as much as I can out of my time here. They are doing a progression through the Bible, starting three years ago in Genesis. Sometime recently Roxie decided to bring in the New Testament concurrently, alternating days between Old and New. So today is a New Testament day, meaning that we were in Matthew 10 (they’re in Psalms in the OT).

We each read a verse, only going through the first four. This is the part of the story where God calls the original twelve disciples and gives them the power to cast out evil spirits and heal diseases. We talked about how all the power originates from God, and that none is from the disciples themselves, teaching humility and reliance on God. I brought up the saying “God doesn’t call the qualified; he qualifies the called.” We discussed how this condemns pride, but it also erases the excuse of fear of inadequacy. God will equip us to do what He has in store for us. We even found something in the naming of the disciples as Roxie brought up the point, “How would you like to be remembered in the Bible as the one who betrayed Jesus?” referencing the appositive attached to Judas Iscariot. We then prayed, each taking time to thank our Savior and make requests of him. I love this family!

Roxie also gave me some more background on their ministry here and Moody as Grayson and Kayla did their school work. Missionary Pilots are a unique type of missionary. Their training and education requires an exorbitant amount of funding to become licensed as a pilot. And they become a missionary usually primarily only to other missionaries, who then are directly working with unreached people. Missionary pilots exponentially enhance the ministry effectiveness of those other missionaries because pilots can get missionaries to their target areas so much more quickly and safely. What may take days or weeks to traverse by ground in the wilderness of Africa may only take 20 minutes to fly. The need for missionary pilots really became apparent with the martyr of Jim Elliot and his four team members. Roxie mentioned how difficult it can be to understand this different nature (particularly in raising support) unless it can be seen firsthand.

I’ve been really impressed with Grayson and Kayla. I would get to know them more over this visit, but I could already see some terrific character traits in both of them. Kayla is 10 and has an incredible sense of faith. That girl believes in Christ and His power with everything in her. The saying “God Can Move Mountains” comes to mind. If we needed God to physically move a mountain, most would watch to see “if” God would actually move it. Kayla would watch with a look of waiting for “when” God will decide that it’s His time to move it.

Grayson has a quest for knowledge, information and personal growth. This 9th grader has an unquenchable thirst to know more about the world around him, and constantly seeks to try his best with a mature enthusiasm that inspires me. He’s a gifted photographer as well, showing me some incredible pictures of a spring snow storm that happened a couple days prior to my arrival.
But what I like even more than their individual strengths and gifts is the way they support each other. They are both learning to play the fiddle, and have made incredible progress, and in that and everything else I saw them do together. They did play several songs while I was around, many for practice and a few as a performance for me. Roxie had them play one last “foot-stomping” one before resuming book work, and told me she’d know there was something wrong with me if I didn’t end up tapping my foot to this one. I was tapping my feet, but didn’t see her tapping hers. I didn’t bring up the implication. ;-) But maybe she’s just not as kinesthetic of a person.

Amy is getting a new cat. She has a girl cat Ella who is extremely skittish, and she is taking in a boy cat (both are “fixed”) named Rock Hudson. She was supposed to be getting Rock tomorrow, but something happened that she needed to get him today, so she was going to be slightly delayed in starting our adventure today, and called to tell me of the delay and that she would call me again to tell me when to come over and see her apartment.

Brian and Frank took a break from their activities, and joined me on the couch as I typed. With Brian sitting next to me, I noticed the piercing in the cartilage of his left ear. He only had the plug in because he had noticed it getting infected. He said he had always wanted a piercing, but didn’t know where to get it. When he mentioned his eyebrow, I interjected to make sure he was going to do the right eyebrow for the proper connotation. He knew about the left ear being the heterosexual side for piercings, but he didn’t know that it was reversed for eyebrows. I’ve considered re-piercing my ear on this trip, but decided the time just wasn’t right.

Amy called while I was hanging out with the guys and gave me the signal to come over. I told her about the plans for everyone to go to Olive Garden, and also asked if Frank was going to get another chance to see her. It was almost 3 p.m., and Frank was about to leave for the airport. They had said they’re good-byes last night, but she still told me she was sending a phone hug to Frank. I told him this and held up the phone so he would be the recipient of the phone hug. He appeared as bewildered as I was as to what a phone hug is, but I told Amy that he was deeply touched. I quickly gathered my stuff and got on the road to her apartment, only 2 miles away.

As I neared her apartment complex, I noticed that my Google Map directions ended on a different street than the one for her address. And I was surrounded by apartment complexes (complices?). I called her and figured out I needed to go down one more street and I would arrive at her complex. She then told me to come in the back door because she wanted her neighbors to see me and think I was her boyfriend and that I lived there, too. This obviously surprised me. I interpreted it as her neighbors thought she was a prude and she wanted a different reputation. I told her this and she started cracking up. She wanted to give the appearance of protection, to make her less of a target for crime as a woman living alone. So I called out casually, “Honey, it’s so good to be home!” as I walked up just to amp up our show.

After I entered the back door, she closed it and started piling her exercise equipment back against it and locking it. She showed me her beautiful and spacious apartment, and I met her cats, Rock and Ella. Ella currently has run of the apartment, but mainly hides in Amy’s bedroom. Rock is set up in the bathroom for the time being, as Amy was told to keep them apart for a few days for them to gradually get used to each other’s presence, among other reasons.

Scott arrived shortly thereafter, and we were introduced. He’s in the Moody Aviation program here as well, but he doesn’t live at the Elton House (Todd & Roxie live on Elton Street in Spokane, and they call it the Elton House rather than by their last name because so many others call it home as well). Amy handed Scott her keys, saying that he should drive because he and I had long legs and should be in front (she has a two-door 2005 Honda Civic, and had to crawl into the back). Between the two of them, they figured out which way to go to pick up Ruby, who was waiting outside her apartment for us.

Ruby is a new friend of Amy’s, having just moved here from New York by way of Texas. She moved here with her best friend Sarah M. (to be introduced later), whose brother D.J. (to be introduced much later) is attending Moody Spokane. Ruby is an amazing chef. She makes everything from scratch. I mean EVERYTHING. If she wants fries, she starts with potatoes and makes them herself. Amy gushed for five solid minutes about Ruby’s chocolate chip cookies.
We were headed to Moody for a tour of the school and the hanger. We got there around 4 p.m. and it was Friday after classes had ended. It was looked but someone inside let us in, and a guy named Jim graciously agreed to give us a short tour (that became longer than he expected because of all of our questions).

We saw the main building, with classrooms, planning rooms, flight simulators, maps, and offices. A glass enclosed bookcase at the top of the stairs displayed several of the Bible translations that Moody had a hand in getting translated. Jim then took us out to the hanger, and we saw so many different types of planes. The one of special interest was the Kodiak. It’s a new plane (only two or three are built and operational to date) designed almost specifically for missionary pilots. The Kodiak uses a more efficient type of fuel, holds more passengers than the model it’s replacing, and I think is able to land on smaller airstrips (a crucial component for third-world countries). It was incredible to see how Moody has the first one to use and train its future pilots. Its serial number is 1, there was a prototype, and the next one almost complete and will be going somewhere else unaffiliated with Moody.

Upon leaving, we discovered there was a train stopped on the tracks across the nearest intersection. Scott, Ruby and Amy apparently thought nothing of this and Scott started driving way out of the way to get to the next available crossing. It’s a different way of life here. Our next stop was Olive Garden.

Todd & Roxie had a gift certificate there, and they wanted to have a celebratory dinner with everyone for the completion of another year, so they had decided to do an en mass unlimited soup & salad dinner there with everyone, and with the gift certificate, it would only cost about $3/person. We were a little late, but it was a wonderful time with everyone. Bryce had the idea of skewering his breadstick on his fork, and his straw from there, delighting in being able to suck warm air from his breadstick. Roxie, in an unconventional mother’s fashion, really liked the first part of the idea, and invited everyone at the table to skewer their breadsticks. I’m sure Emily Post was spinning in her grave, but it was hilarious to see most everyone at the table follow suit.

The meal was delicious, and a great chance to spend more time with everyone. Mike #1 (hereinafter Mike R. as I have learn both their last names) was there, and I was surprised to learn that he and Amy hadn’t met before. With as connected as Amy is with Todd & Roxie and the whole Elton House, I would figure she’d know everyone connected with Moody by now. I noticed some tape on Mike S.’s arm, and asked if he’d donated blood, to which he responded that he’d donated plasma, for which you can get money. That perked my interest, and I asked him a bunch of questions about it, wondering about doing it myself.

From there, Amy’s plans for my visit included going out to Coeur d’Alene, which I learned is in Idaho. We wanted to bring a big group, and we got enough people that we would take two cars. We rendezvoused back at Amy’s apartment (after our group ambled aimlessly through the parking garage trying to find where we had left her car).

I got there, and met Sarah M. She works in some veterinary assistant’s capacity, and was giving Amy some feedback on Rock and when to let him and Ella both run around freely. I had to use the bathroom that Rock is shut up in, and I discovered that he is a very friendly cat. I had a difficult time in there because he seemed very self-confident that he was the reason I was in there.

When everyone arrived, we decided we could split the group by gender. Amy was driving the girl car and I was driving the boy car (except that Serena is a girl, but she wanted to see Idaho, so she was okay with it). Sarah M., Ruby and Amy were in the car following Bryce, Brian, Jonathan, Scott and me. I found it interested that I was leading since I’ve never been there, but Brian was able to direct me. We had a blast even on the freeway teasing each other’s cars. Brian led us in a fine formation of flapping our wings (arms out the opened windows) up and down (except for Bryce, who decided to have a defective wing.

We crossed into Idaho (“No, you ‘da ho!” was a common overused joke there) about twenty minutes after departure. Another ten, and we pulled off the freeway to park at Coeur d’Alene, a lake in Northwestern Idaho. We paid for parking and then decided to walk the Boardwalk there. It was beautiful to see, and a lot of fun with a group of people.

We took a lot of pictures, and ended up at a hotel there, messing around in the glass turnabout doors (it’s a wonder that we weren’t asked to leave). We started trying to go up in the hotel, first with the goal of getting as high up as we could, and later with the goal of the best vantage point for pictures of the lake. Jonathan was the only one dressed “nice,” and so it really was miraculous that people weren’t ruder to us and our roaming. We were finally told that the best place for pictures might be from the top of the parking garage, and so we meandered over to there.

We took the elevator up, and the restaurant hostess was right: it was an excellent place to take pictures. We walked around to all of the different edges of the top level, looking out at the scenery. Brian wanted to be back by 10ish, and we were a little late leaving. As we left, Amy randomly found a wine glass on the ground. I somehow got the hiccoughs and could not get rid of them. Before we got in the cars, I even tried swallowing upside down, but it didn’t work like it normally does. I was worried I might hiccough all the way home, and lo and behold, I did. When we finally arrived at Amy’s, Bryce helped me try his technique. He pulled down firmly on my ears as I slowly drank some Gatorade, and it worked. Thank goodness! Thirty miles is a long way to go with hiccoughs.

Bryce had to get back to the house because he was doing the paper route the next morning (the family does one as a group, with the boarding guys helping out), and so he and I left quickly after dropping everything off to their cars back at Amy’s. The drive back was one of many good talks between us. Bryce is in a unique position in the Elton House because he lives as both a biological family member and a boarding student, and I think that’s afforded him a very insightful life perspective. We talked about commitment to God, and some more specifics of the Moody program.

We arrived to find all the lights out. I followed Bryce around to the back of the house, and we went in the back door on the lower level of the house, which led us right to our respective rooms. I stayed up typing and unloading pictures for awhile, but went to bed around 12.

Day 11 - 06/12/2008

2008-06-14T12:10:00.000-07:00

I woke up very sore this morning. So sore that I could not lift my right leg more than an inch off the ground without incredible pain. Walking, taking a shower, and getting dressed were all huge chores. And somehow I was supposed to drive to Spokane today! I didn’t even know if I’d be able to move my leg between the accelerator and the brake.

I was able to stand still while cooking some eggs for breakfast. But I knew I was going to need some help getting through the day. My parents and I used to have this joint rub ointment that we found at a drugstore that helped with pain like this. It worked better than Ben Gay, but they must have stopped making it because we haven’t been able to find it in stores for at least a year. I had seen commercials for something that seemed similar, and wanted to try it. So I was going to Walgreens, and Grandma asked if she could tag along. I failed to realize then what a blessing her presence would be.

We moved slowly out to the car, and I eased myself in to drive it around to the curb for her. Since I could switch pedals just by pivoting my foot off my ankle, I would be able to do this. She got in—faster than I had—and we were on our way. When we arrived, I figured out the perk of having her along. She has a handicapped parking placard to hang in my windshield. We had used it the other day at Costco, and it was nice to have the car so close with all she bought. But today, it was Heaven coming down to park right in front of the store.

Grandma bought a book of wordsearch puzzles, and I found the stuff I was looking for, and almost grabbed a thing of Ben Gay too. But I didn’t want to buy both and mess with returning something to a Walgreen’s in a different state, so I didn’t. We slowly left, got home, and then went back inside. I was very disappointed to learn that this new stuff did nothing for me. But getting out and moving around had helped to loosen it up a little, making it somewhat easier to walk.

I said good-bye to Grandma, and she sent me off with some more muffins and rhubarb sauce. I have had so much of while I’ve been here. I got on the road, and decided I would stop by Seattle. I really wanted to see Pike’s Public Market and the Underground City, but knew I wouldn’t be able to handle both. I decided I would do Pike’s, and that I would just stay a little while.

I called Uncle Dan because he had talked about showing that to me, along with a motorcycle he has that used to belong to my dad, and my grandfather before him. Dan works in Seattle, and said he had about an hour’s worth of work to finish up, but then he’d be free. Since it would take me a half hour to get to him, I was fine waiting for half an hour. He’s a mechanic, so I’d be able to see his shop. He gave me directions, and I pressed on. I followed his directions without issue, but was surprised that the directions led me down an alley in a residential neighborhood.

It turns out that Dan rents the garage facing out the back of a duplex as his shop. When I pulled up, he signaled for me to keep my engine running. He quickly locked his shop, and jumped in my passenger seat. He needed a part, so I drove him over to Schuck’s, which goes by Kragen down in California. It was weird to see a new name on a familiar logo, similar to Carl’s Jr. being “Hardy’s” on the East Coast. Dan didn’t end up finding his part there, so he had me drive him back to the shop. He said he could get it later, and so we could go down to the market.

But I wouldn’t be driving. We were taking the motorcycle. I had never ridden on one before, so I was pretty excited. Dan had two sets of leathers, so I donned one over my clothes, as did he. I took a picture of the two of us all decked out. Then he gave me my only job: not to lean when he turned. I had to staying in straight vertical alignment with the bike, and he would balance us out. I knew that this might be a problem for me: surrendering control and trusting someone else, but I kept my mouth shut and resolved to try.

Swinging my leg up onto the seat brought a groan out of me, but I got on. Dan had said the bike would give me enough balance that I didn’t need to hold onto him or anything, but that just didn’t feel okay, so I put my hands on his waist. And off we went. Surprisingly, I did okay with not leaning. He was very complimentary about that actually.

Dan drove through and gave me a tour of parts of downtown Seattle. We drove around for awhile when he stopped under a bridge. He was going to try and get that part at a place nearby. He thought I might want to get off here and take some pictures. He had brought me to the Fremont Troll. Underneath the overpass, someone had constructed a huge troll, with its left claw encasing an actual VW bug. Sorry Peanut, but one of your own was being held against its will. The art of it was incredible. Dan later told me that people would keep stealing the VW, so it eventually had to be bolted in. Dan took me around to some other artistic monuments in the city, and then we went down to the market.

Pike’s is an amazing place, and really something that should be done with a local. Dan knew everything there that a tourist should make sure to see. He used to live down in this area when he was married and was living down here. He said he hadn’t been back in awhile, so this brought him back a little. It also just gave us more of a chance to just talk. We hadn’t done that before this trip, so it was nice to really get to know him like I’ve gotten to know Uncle Dave over the years.

I saw the throwing of the fish. I had forgotten until Dan reminded me that seeing that was a big deal here. So I saw three fish thrown with lots of yelling surrounding the process. We walked around, seeing a lot of the stores, stands, and booths. There were a few street performers sprinkled around the Market. Dan said that permits were required for them to perform there, and most were actually pretty good. There was one pair doing a Bluegrass/Folk-style set, with the guy on fiddle, and the girl on vocals & doing some tap work. Dan had remembered seeing them many times before and said that all of their music was in that style, so I bought their CD. It was $10, folded up in a cardboard holder, and I was surprised to see that there were 16 songs on it.

As we walked around, Dan saw someone he recognized. Nancy runs the dairy shop, which is all decked out in cow paraphernalia. Shelly would love it. Dan had been a guide when Nancy went whitewater rafting. At first she didn’t recognize him, but then remembered who he was, and they talked like they were old friends. Her mom lives in Fresno, and so we had something in common there. Nancy owns this store, and welcomed everyone coming in as old friends. She had an out-there side to her: not a full-on hippie like Carleigh (see Day 1), but was pretty New Age-y. The biggest evidence of this was Sarah, her huge dog that was lying in the middle of the store, and would frequently get up to follow customers or to just wander around and visit other stores.

Dan and I were getting hungry, and so we stopped at Three Girls, a sandwich shop for lunch. We eat got a delicious baked salmon sandwich from there and walked out to the edge of the Market where there was an outdoor picnic area looking out on Puget Sound.

Dan drove us back to his shop, and he gave me some advice on taking care of my car. I really need to pay more attention to Serena. Just because I don’t go to doctors doesn’t mean she should go to hers (a mechanic). She apparently is overdue for a new timing belt.

I started the long drive to Spokane, and encountered a little traffic as I was leaving Seattle. Once I got on the 90, I was fine though. It wasn’t long before I started getting sleepy, and so I pulled over at the first exit I found. As I was parking, I realized my tank was nearing empty. For the miles I’d driven, I guessed I had about another gallon, meaning I could only go about 30 miles. Normally this isn’t an issue, but this freeway was looking pretty rural as it crossed the middle of the state.

As I was stretching to wake myself up (I didn’t need a powernap at this point), I saw a couple (I would later learn their names to be Lucas & Jenny) getting some water from the back of their blue station wagon. So I walked over and asked if they knew the area and if there were gas stations in the town coming up. They didn’t know, but they were heading the same way, and Lucas offered to follow me and pick me up if I ran out to take me to the next town to get some gas and bring me back. I had AAA, but knew that waiting for them if I had to call could take hours. I didn’t want to take the risk of running out when Amy was expecting me. I was very touched by their offer and accepted.

We talked for a few minutes as they packed back up their car, and I found out they were headed to Weiser, Idaho for a folk music festival that was to last a few weeks. I commented that they were hardcore to go for something like that for that long, and Lucas admitted they weren’t going to stay for the whole duration. But Jenny was quick to agree with me that they were hardcore, and Lucas flexed his bicep to add credence to her claim. Lucas also told me I should forget wherever I was going and go on to Weiser for the festival. I was anxious to check a map to see how far it would be from Spokane because I was hoping Amy and I might be able to go out there on her day off.

I got back on the freeway, and they followed me until we got to the next town. It looked developed enough that it might need a gas station, so I honked twice and pulled off, waving good-bye to my new friends. I really wish I could have gotten them more, and hoped going to the festival would be a possibility. I did find a gas station and filled up my tank. I had to go to the restroom, and went inside to find it. It was currently empty, I was surprised to see that all the stalls were contained by saloon-style doors…that didn’t lock…that were high enough off the ground that a small child would have an unobstructed view if he walked in (this wasn’t a locking, single-occupancy restroom). It was very uncomfortable, and if I thought there was someplace else, I would have waited. So I just hurried, and no one else came in.

Pressing on, I began to feel drowsy again. This time I could sense that just a stretch break wouldn’t do it. So I pulled off and tried to get a power nap in. I had to move my car soon after parking because I had parked with the sun hitting my eyes. I didn’t get completely to sleep, but I rested. After getting out afterward to stretch, I felt safe enough to continue.

I couldn’t believe it, but I actually caught Adventures in Odyssey on the radio as I was nearing Spokane. It was an episode I recalled hearing before, where Jessie has a crush on Jimmy, and he tries to figure out how to get away from her unwanted affections.

Entering Spokane, I gave Amy a warning call. She then told me to go straight to where I’d be staying during my visit instead of her apartment, which I would see tomorrow. I was doing fine with the directions, I turned onto the final street, and that’s when the problems started. Very few of the houses were numbered, and after two passes on this small street, I finally had it narrowed down to two houses. So I called Amy to find out the color of the house, but she pulled up as we were talking.

We hugged and then went inside. I would be staying with Amy’s pseudo-family that moved up here from Coarsegold. Todd & Roxie are homeschooling their two youngest children, Grayson & Kayla. But that’s not their story. This family is also a boarding house for six guys attending Moody Aviation School, a five-year program to train missionary pilots and flight mechanics. The school is a part of Moody Bible Institute in Chicago, but the Spokane program only offers a B.S. in Mission Aviation Technology. Boarding students is the family’s ministry, and one of the students is one of their two other sons Bryce. It’s a two-story house, and the family unit lives upstairs while the guys live downstairs. Of architectural interest, the front door opens to a landing at the middle of the stairs between the two floors. As the semester was to officially end tomorrow but finals were over, two of the guys were already gone for the summer. I would be staying downstairs with the remaining guys.

As I walked in, I saw verses and quotes written on cards on the walls. The whole family was very welcoming. As I arrived, dinner was being prepared, but it was put on hold for family devotions. Todd explained to me that devotions never get done after dinner, and so they started doing them before eating. I’m not sure how Roxie would still manages to serve a warm meal sitting next to Todd for the entirety of the devotion time, but she did. We read from the Bible about God having Samuel anoint David to replace Saul as king, and how Saul tried to subvert that and place one of his sons on the throne. We discussed this at length about how God didn’t want Israel to be ruled by kings, and after giving the people what they wanted (a king), He still had his own plan for the structure of it. This was probably the most in-depth family devotional I’ve ever experienced.

We then walked into the kitchen for dinner. Dinner was ham, baked beans, salad, and bread, served buffet-style. I found out that not only are the boarding students fed here, but several other students also frequently come for devotions and dinner during the school year. Tonight it was just Todd, Roxie, Bryce, Grayson, Kayla, Amy and me. The other three students still around were working and making their plans to depart for the summer. Frank would be serving on an internship in Africa, and Mike #2 (there will be a Mike #1 introduced later who isn’t in the school and doesn’t live at the house) would be spending the summer with family in Wisconsin. The dinner was amazing. I shared a few stories about my trip thus far, and also learned a lot about the family here.

Bryce gave me the tour of the house after dinner, and I really started to see what a ministry-centered house this is. I could feel an encouraging spirit in everyone here. I dragged in my stuff, and Todd made up a bed for me in the smaller of the two bedrooms. It was a vertically small bunk (I couldn’t sit up in it), but after my adventures with that sophomore year at FPU, I knew it wouldn’t be a problem. And this bed was taller than mine that year. Even more, it was a bed. Todd and Roxie warned me about the noise of planes flying over the house, but I doubted they’d be a problem.

After socializing a bit more, Amy drove me out to the beginning of a nice hiking trail that I could enjoy tomorrow while she was at work. The time out gave us some time to talk about the latest news with our families, and really encourage each other. Amy is an amazing friend, and I’m so glad to be visiting her here. She’s going to be working from early morning to midday the next two days, but we’ll have the afternoons and evenings, along with all day Sunday to spend time together.

Amy dropped me off at the house and drove home. I went inside, and saw Todd talking to another guy. Todd started to introduce him, but this guy cut him off and said, “Wait. Don’t ruin it.” as he walked down the half-staircase, and gave me a hug. He then told me that he was Brian, and I found out that he’s from San Jose, and we got to know each other a little. He goes to Moody, but doesn’t live here. I then talked with Roxie for a little while about their friendship with Amy and their ministry here, was told that breakfast was at 6:45, and then I retired to downstairs. They had said I would be able to do laundry, which was a blessing from above because I was nearing desperate times. I would take care of all that tomorrow.

I pulled out my laptop to catch up on my journaling, and went into the common room to see what the guys were doing in there. I met Frank and Mike #1 (who is #1 because I met him before meeting #2). Mike #1 was here to give Frank some pointers for Africa. Mike #1 is in the military, has served overseas, and as a Christian really has a heart for missions and equipping those with that call. I really enjoyed talking with him and the other guys there, too (Bryce, Brian and Mike #2 came in later). I ended up staying up until 1 a.m. talking and typing. It was reminiscent of college conversations, and I loved it.

More Pictures

2008-06-14T11:29:00.000-07:00

I'm working on the blogs, but here are some more pictures. I'm relisting Day 8 since I added some more pictures to that album.

Day 8

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2002651&l=33c43&id=150900395

Day 9

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2002671&l=d89c3&id=150900395

Day 10

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2002672&l=2f9ba&id=150900395

Day 10 - 06/11/2008

2008-06-13T10:42:00.000-07:00

I woke up and started getting ready for the day. I was taking everything with me just in case I stayed the night at Craig’s brother’s place. Also, since I only had a general idea of the day’s plans, I wanted to have everything available just in case. Craig had told me to meet him and Kristin, a friend of his also on the road trip, around 10 a.m. (we are all on vacation) up in Burlington. So I had a little time in the morning to have breakfast and discuss routes with Uncle Dan. I had no idea, though, how glad I would be that I did not force myself to go out and run that morning.

I had no trouble finding the apartment complex in Burlington. Scott, Craig’s brother, was at work, but I did meet his wife Amy that morning. Scott has a summer internship up here in Washington, but they both love it up here and may move after he finishes his last year of school back in California.

As I was grabbing stuff from my car and putting it in Kristin’s, I asked Craig how long he thought we’d be in the car. When he said five hours, I said, “Okay. I’m bringing my knitting.” They both got a kick out of that. I knew I wouldn’t want to type the whole day, so I figured I’d better have something else planned.

So Craig, Kristin and I set out in Kristin’s 2003 Honda Civic (I don’t know what its name is; I forgot to ask). Our first task was to find internet access somewhere to find out how exactly to get to Olympic National Park (ferry schedules, highways, etc.). Craig tried to find somewhere free, but ended up going to Kinko’s. Since we were fast, it was less than a dollar.

We made another stop at the Post Office for Craig to mail someone’s ID to them. I never got that full story, but this stop was significant because with Craig inside, I had Kristin turn the bass down on her car stereo. Since I was in the back seat, I knew I’d lose my hearing with Craig manning the radio. This way I’d be better able to tolerate the higher volumes.

Driving west on highway 20, we aimed for the Ferry to transport us from Keystone to Port Townsend. We talked for awhile about our respective trips up here. I took my time, but they drove it straight. They had left at 8 a.m. this Monday morning and arrived at 2 a.m. on Tuesday. They made no stops other than as necessary for gas.

Craig noticed a European Subaru on the road. At first I couldn’t tell what he was talking about because I saw a Washington license plate. But looking inside the car, I saw that there was only one person in the car, and she was sitting on the right side driving. We got a few pictures of her, but you have to know what you’re looking at to notice she’s on the other side of the car. We also encountered a red pick-up towing a classic car, an olive green Barracuda. I had never heard of this model before, and even Craig was fascinated by it.

Before we left my car, I asked if I should bring some food for us for the day. Craig said they had us covered with snacks and lunch, so I left my stuff behind except for a Gatorade. This trip did something else for me: it gave me a reason to start shopping at WinCo. They had gone there and purchased a very healthy and delicious snack. They had a bag of soy nuts and a bag of dried raspberries (WinCo has self-serve dispensers of these and many other items). Craig had me put out my hand, and dumped a bit of each into my palm, and instructed me to mix and eat. WOW! That was the perfect sweet & salty, soft & crunchy, protein-filled snack.

We finally arrived at the ferry, and a rather disgruntled woman asked us if we had reservations. We didn’t, and asked about the likelihood of getting on. She said our odds were good, and we pulled into lane 5 as directed. Getting out, we stretched and took some pictures of the view as we waited. The ferry arrived about 30 minutes later, and we did get on. After parking we got out of the car, made some sandwiches out of the food in the cooler they had in the trunk, and made our way up top to enjoy the ride. The ferry rocked side to side a fair amount, and you felt it more the higher up you went on the ferry. None of us were getting sick, but we had a hard time not weaving as we walked.

Because of the cold, I borrowed a sweatshirt from Craig. It has been really strange to look over some of my pictures and see myself wearing clothes I am not long familiar with. I borrowed a red University of Nebraska sweatshirt from Leroy in Tacoma, and now a black one (representing some surf shop) from Craig.

After getting across, we then had to drive to the park. I had scribbled down directions from the Google Map we quickly accessed at Kinko’s, and combined with my AAA map and Tourbook, we eventually found our way to an entrance. I had thought Craig had an all-parks annual pass, but it turns out that his is only for Yosemite. We considered paying the $15 for the 7-day pass that we would only use for about three hours, but then decided to try a path that was running off to the right just ten feet before the park entrance.

Driving less than half a mile, we arrived at a trailhead rest stop. The sign said Lake Angeles was 3.7 miles away. That seemed doable for us, so we grabbed some waters and headed out. We would later learn that we were hiking up Mt. Angeles, which has an elevation of 6,454 feet.
Stepping onto the trail was like entering Narnia. The sun wasn’t shining through the clouds, and so there was just a continuous white glow filtering through the dense trees. All the foliage was lush with growth, and moss covered everything not moving. The humidity was dense, but not uncomfortable for how cold it was. As we climbed higher, we were walking through the mist of the clouds.

We hiked briskly at first, stopping frequently to take pictures in the many landscapes we were offered. Kristin has an Olympus camera too (albeit a nicer model than mine), but she and Craig taught me a few new techniques to enhance my pictures. Craig climbed out on a few fallen trees that were stretched above the trail or across the valley below us. He said one was very wobbly, and we later saw that the end of it rested in the air—it was not secured to anything. Craig is a daredevil, growing up as a missionary kid in Indonesia. With all the accidents he’s had in his youth, it’s a miracle he’s not dead. I wonder sometimes why I hang out with him, but then remember that all of our times together are an adventure.

We continued climbing. The trail was well maintained, with only small rocks and roots to watch out for, as the moisture makes them wet and slippery. It wasn’t long before we ditched the sweatshirts and waters behind a tree for retrieval on the way back down. With the moisture in the air, we didn’t think dehydration would be an issue.

We aren’t sure exactly how long we climbed because we don’t recall the time we started (we guessed 3 p.m.), but we were surprised not to have made it to the lake by 5 p.m. Even with our stops, we kept a brisk pace, and should have made it in two hours if we were averaging 2 mph. We were disappointed not to make it to the lake, but we were getting tired and needed to save our strength for the trip back down. We also had to consider the ferry schedule. We were going to miss the 6:45 one, and had to make sure to catch the last one of the night at 8:30, provided it wasn’t full. If it was, we’d have to sleep in the car tonight, or drive the long way back around to get back to Burlington.

So we began our descent. Walking downhill is not as easy as it would appear, especially when the ground is slippery due to rocks, roots, and mud. On the way up, I had slipped and fallen into a push-up position to prevent a full face-plant into the ground. Somehow Craig got it in his head to try running down the mountain. And I was desirous enough of exiting to agree to the notion, and thank goodness I did! We spread out, and Craig and Kristin alternated being in front, calling out the potential dangers in the trail. They are both in much better space than I, but I kept pace with them. I did have troubling braking once, but Craig saw me coming, and we locked palms in a high-five position for him to drag me to a stop. We would run for stretch, and then walk for a short period through some of the rougher parts of the trail before running again. We ran most of the way, and were out in 45 minutes.

Arriving back at the car, Craig made sure we stretched. He’s a personal trainer, so I was glad to have his expertise along for the trip. He probably saved me from a twisted ankle with his tutelage. We gobbled up the rest of the food, and then climbed in the car.

I had been fortunate with the mud and my shoes up until the very end of the trail down, when the front two inches of my left shoe streamlined into a patch of mud. I didn’t fall, but my toes were now wet. It didn’t bother me as much as I thought it would. I asked them to pull into a Walmart on the way back to the ferry. Socks were the only thing I had run out of, laundry-wise, and so it made sense just to buy another pack. Back in the car, I peeled off my shoes and socks. I had put a light layer of Vicks Vaporub on my toes this morning. That was a running trick I picked up and still use because of how prone to blisters I am when running or hiking. No blisters, but a few tender spots. I’m so glad I did that this morning.

We arrived at the ferry an hour before departure, and a much friendlier man in this toll booth assured us that the ferry would not fill up. We stretched some more, but because of the cold, we quickly climbed back inside the warmth of the car. After some time, Craig got out to smoke his pipe, inviting us to join him. We would have, but we both needed more food in our stomachs. So Kristin and I walked over to Subway, back near the entrance to the ferry dock, and each ordered a foot-long turkey sub. We didn’t realize until paying that turkey is not on the $5 sub menu. There had been a list on the board, but we hadn’t looked because we assumed that the basic lunch meat sandwiches were the $5 ones. We figured that turkey must be a high-demand item, and that’s why the price wasn’t reduced. Oh well, lesson learned.

The ferry took us back, but we didn’t get out of the car this time. We then began the long drive back to Burlington. We arrived back around 10:15, but it would have been ten if Craig had listened to me and made a left off the highway instead of a right. We were all so tired, though, that I can’t blame him. I put my stuff in my car, said good-bye and thanks for a terrific day, and then drove back to Everett.

I got a lot of knitting done today, on the drive up and back (Kristin and Craig alternated driving—I was always a passenger). I really need to finish this scarf for my sister Victoria. Good grief, I started this thing three and a half years ago. I’m not very consistent with it. I have learned a few things along the way, though. To go back, I wouldn’t make it so wide because that’s one thing that really slows me down. I would still use size 7 or 8 needles because I like the look of the tighter knit.

Back home, I regaled Grandma with tales of my adventurous day. By then the soreness had set in, and I could barely walk because my hip flexors with so sore. So I quickly ambled over to the couch and went to bed.

Oops! Forgot this one: Day 8 - 06/09/2008

2008-06-13T01:26:00.000-07:00

I decided to sleep in because I’m on vacation, and I’m pretty much in charge. I know that writing it doesn’t necessarily make it true, but sometimes it’s nice to think so. I was able to take my time this morning because I would just be leaving the key behind in the mailbox, and Gram Helen wasn’t expecting me at any particular time. I showered and dressed, and after journaling a little while longer (I was getting behind), I packed and left.

It was raining as I loaded my car. I’ve decided that if I ever move here, I would need an attached garage. I love being in the rain personally, but I wouldn’t want to constantly have stuff that needed to be kept dry to walk back-and-forth from a house.

It really started to come down as I started the drive to Everett. The sky was so beautiful, just littered with clouds of varying shades. But an even more beautiful sight was that of my grandmother. I hadn’t seen Helen in just over a year, which we both deemed too long. I had called her on the way up, and she said she’d have lunch ready when I arrived. There’s something to understand about Gram Helen. Actually, there are a lot of things, but this is the first of many. No recipe ever stays the same with her. Because of health reasons and taste preferences, she alters EVERY recipe she is given to remove all salt, sugar, and some other things. Her herb collection surpasses Martha Stewart’s, I’m sure. She sends me recipes every now and then in our correspondence via snail mail, and I always wonder what they originally looked like, and if they were simpler the original way. They’re always good, though, but noticeably different.

Anyway, one part of lunch was potato soup, not the creamy kind that’s usually thought of, but a broth-based soup that you’d expect to find meat as the primary solid. It’s very good, and I made it once when she sent me the recipe a few years back.

She had also asked me if I liked rhubarb, to which I said that I had never tried it. She had chopped some up, and mixed it with jello mix and applesauce to make a sauce out of it. She had also mixed some in cornmeal muffins with dried apricots. Both were heavenly additions to the meal.

After lunch, she surprised me by asking me to take her to the store. She rarely goes out, and has only recently resumed outdoor walks. Prospector Liquidation is a combination of Grocery Outlet (less perishable goods), a thrift store and Big Lots. Very cool combination. She stayed just in the grocery section, while I wandered around everywhere. I found some greeting cards (all 2 for $1, just like the Dollar Tree), and some fish seasoning for Dad and I to try out when visit Orange County again. The also had furniture, clothing, and a menagerie of other things. I noticed some Kirkland stuff, so they must be an outlet for the Costco remnants.

We returned home just in time to catch Judge Judy. Grandma loves her no-nonsense style and the fact that there are no lawyers. I’m not a fan of how so refuses to let people tell their sides of the story and insults them freely, but I stayed and watched as I typed, trying to finish yesterday’s journal. After an hour of listening to the Harpy, I had finished yesterday’s journal, and Grandma and I sat down to play a game of Cribbage. She was at 120 and I had 119 when she got 1 more point and crossed the finish line.

For dinner, Grandma had boiled some chicken breasts and marinated them in a homemade barbeque sauce. We just pulled pieces out of a bowl onto our plates. Grandma put hers on bread with some mustard, but I just ate mine off the bone. There was also more Rhubarb sauce, and I eagerly gobbled up some more of that.

After dinner we sat down to watch Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy. I love them, but never catch them anymore because it drives me crazy to spend an hour of my time with a show that doesn’t have a plot. So I was glad Grandma liked them and that I had good reason to sit and watch them. We only got through Wheel of Fortune when Dave called Grandma back to tell us to come over and visit.

Uncle Dave is Dad’s younger brother and lives with his wife Carol in Marysville a few miles north of Everett. We got in my car, and I drove Grandma up there. I didn’t remember how to get there, any she enjoyed being in charge of telling me where to go. When we arrived, without going inside to say hello, she got out and headed straight through to the backyard to show me the rhubarb plant they had. On her way back in, she saw a miniature rose bush and pinched off a few buds to take with her, knowing that Dave & Carol wouldn’t care.

Then we went inside to say hello, and their two tiny dogs barked like crazy over the prospect of company. It was wonderful seeing Dave and Carol again (not so much the dogs), and their daughter Amy was even able to come over for awhile. Carol gave Grandma a plastic bag with a little water to hold her pilfered flowers. We sat and talked for awhile before heading back home. Dave, Carol & Amy all work a lot, and we didn’t want to keep them up too late.

When we had left, my Uncle Dan (Dad’s youngest brother) had just returned to Grandma’s apartment, where he is currently staying. When Grandma and I returned, he and I had a chance to properly catch up. I hadn’t realized he was so health conscious, but I found out. He keeps himself on a very stringent and organic diet. The three of us sat down to play a game of Cribbage, which was far different from playing between just two people. Interestingly, we were all tied at 120 (in the stink hole, as Grandma called it), when I caught a pair during play and crossed the finish line.

Afterward Dan brought out some pictures and gave me some background on him. The last time I had seen him was in 2002, and had only met him once before in 1994. He’s led a very interesting life, working for awhile as a whitewater rafting guide and more recently as a mechanic. He also exercises both as avocations, still rafting (though rarely as a guide) and collecting and rebuilding motorcycles and cars. He’s a hardcore environmentalist with a deep knowledge of alternative fuel uses (e.g. running cars on vegetable oil, biodiesel, etc.).

After talking for awhile, we all retired. I’m sleeping on the couch in the living room, and they each have a bedroom in the apartment.

Day 9 - 06/10/2008

2008-06-13T00:47:00.001-07:00

The couch was comfortable enough, but I didn’t sleep well. Even the clock chiming on the hour and half hour rarely woke—much less even bothered—me. I’m not sure what it was, but my eyes were also giving me a lot of trouble this morning. I should have gone out for a run, but oh well.

I had a bowl of Dan’s organic cardboard for breakfast. It actually did taste rather good, but Grandma enjoyed my comments about the stereotype of it. Dan and I talked for awhile longer before he had to leave for work. Then Grandma and I laid out our plan for the morning. She had canceled her noon Bridge game that she hosts on Tuesdays so that we didn’t have to work around that.

We started by returning to Prospector’s. She loved the Cranberry juice she had picked up yesterday and wanted more. And I loved her Rhubarb sauce so much that she wanted to grab the last jar of applesauce from there. She had taken three and left one behind yesterday, and now she wanted it.

From there we stopped at AAA for me to get information on the Bushart Gardens. My coworker Lynn and several others had told me how incredible these were, so I had been looking through my Washington information to find out where they were. That’s when Grandma told me they were actually in Canada. So I went in to get some info about them and the transportation possibilities of getting there. A guy named Jeff (who was originally from Anaheim, CA) helped me, and even looked up an overnight tour package for me to depart early Wednesday and return midday Thursday. I told him I’d come back for the price because I had to check with Amy to see when she was expecting me.

From there, we tried to get to Costco. It took awhile but we found it. We went inside, and Grandma just had a blast going there to get all sorts of nuts and produce in bulk. We found almost everything she was looking for, and then headed home. I dropped Grandma off at the curb, and then started bringing stuff in. Thankfully she’s a very que sera sera person, because about 1/3 of the clamshell of blueberries spilled out into the curb when I opened the door.

After she put the groceries away, we had lunch and played another game of cribbage. Then I went over to the library to upload blogs and journals. The Everett Public Library is huge and peaceful. I spent about three hours there. I shouldn’t have, but I checked my work e-mail. The tax partner had e-mailed me with the news that they only had found work for me for 2-4 weeks, not the entire two months I was originally scheduled in the tax department. The significance of this is that the audit department can have me back and may send me out of town. I normally like the out-of-town work, but I have been trying to organize a Bible Study for the summer since I was all but promised two whole months of being in town. So I just need to have faith that God is going to accomplish what He wants in this.

I returned home just in time for Judge Judy. That’s a real can’t miss. Grandma and I definitely don’t see eye-to-eye on her, but I watched it with her anyway. Dan arrived home early, and Grandma baked some potatoes for dinner, also heating up the chicken from yesterday. We played a game of Cribbage, and then paused. Wheel of Fortune & Jeopardy had been delayed until the 9 p.m. hour for a Basketball game (Grandma and I were equally annoyed).

During Wheel of Fortune, I pulled out my knitting for the first time on this trip. I did a few rows on Joy’s scarf, and then Dan asked if I wanted to play another game of Cribbage—just us—so Grandma could keep watching.

Dan’s a tea aficionado like me, so he prepared us each a cup and then we quickly knocked out a whole game (I won) by the time Jeopardy was over.

I called Craig, a college friend who was also on a road trip up here to see his brother. We made plans to meet up and hang out tomorrow. I would drive up to join them in Burlington, and then we would drive out to Olympic National Park.

Grandma, Dan and I played another game before heading to bed.

Pictures

2008-06-10T14:49:00.000-07:00

Day 5

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2002648&l=2f4c3&id=150900395

Day 6

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2002649&l=a4f21&id=150900395

Day 7

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2002650&l=83223&id=150900395

Day 8

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2002651&l=33c43&id=150900395

Day 7 - 06/08/2008

2008-06-10T13:38:00.000-07:00

I got up in time to shower and get ready for church. Leroy quickly put breakfast sandwiches together for us, and we left for Starbucks. Once there we ordered some tea, and I set up my laptop and started to type out yesterday’s journal. I didn’t get much typing done because we ended up talking for most of our time there.

We went to Temple Baptist Church this morning. Leroy and Karen haven’t found a home church yet, and are visiting different churches in the area. This church is the one where the seminary president and his wife attend. The church was interviewing Brad for the associate pastor position that morning. He had taught Sunday School earlier that morning, and would lead worship and preach the morning’s sermon. There was also a potluck following the service where there would be a Q&A time for the congregation with him. It was a long morning for him, but I thought he did especially well. I even had a chance to talk with him for awhile.

The church was very welcoming. Mike, the senior pastor, came over and introduced himself. We were sitting in front of the seminary president and his family, and sat with them during the Potluck. I really enjoyed my time there. Taking an info card to the visitor’s center, I was also given a very nice coffee mug.

We went back to the house and changed into casual clothes to head out again. We drove out to Point Defiance again to see some different areas than I went yesterday. There’s a zoo there, and I don’t recall how it came up, but Karen asked me why I didn’t like zoos. It’s one of those “don’t get me started” issues, but I did. I went on my rant about the pointless nature of them and the irksome additional local sales tax created by a ten-year-old’s desire for the zoo to stay open in Fresno. I understand that most kids love them, and that I used to be one of them (so my mother tells me), but I think there are plenty of other things to do to enrich kids. Karen said that I’ve been a bachelor too long. She’s been after me all weekend about setting me up with someone.

We parked and walked out along the rock beach I had stumbled upon yesterday. Puget Sound is so beautiful. It was overcast but not raining, and we saw a few boats out there. I took several pictures, and even had some other people take pictures of the three of us together. While we walked, Karen returned a call from Tanya, who is about to take a Chemistry class. When they hung up, Karen told us the trepidation Tanya was experiencing, having loved the life sciences and being confused with some of the presentation in Chemistry. I gave my thoughts on that, and Karen called Tanya back to have me talk to Tanya and allay some of her fears with my background in the physical sciences. We talked for a little while about the different methods of presenting material, and gave her an analogy my friend Cindy once gave me about the differences between Biology and Chemistry. I hope it all helped her.

From there Leroy said he wanted to take me to get some pictures he knew I hadn’t gotten yesterday, and was he ever right! We went along Five-Mile Drive, stopping occasionally to get out and admire God’s handiwork. One of the things we stopped at was a 400-year-old Douglas Fir. It was fascinating to read about, but I found the bullet through the information sign even more remarkable. We stopped next at the Native Gardens and walked around in there, and finally went to Anthony’s for lunch before heading home.

Leroy had not been feeling well all day, suffering from some form of vertigo. I offered to give him a neck rub when we got home, citing my mother’s high praises of my massage skills. Karen had me put some essential oils on my hands as well, something I had never tried. It all seemed to help him, and Karen asked what I charged. I responded that a few days room and board ought to do just fine. Leroy and I had been feeding off of each other’s dry humor all day, and Karen said she didn’t know about letting us hang out together any longer.

Leroy and Karen come from a Mennonite background, and my alma mater was Mennonite Brethren, and so I had wanted to show them the shirt I had gotten there as a student volunteer during the MCC (Mennonite Central Committee) relief sale, or as my friend Matt calls it, “The Mennonite Festival” because Mennonites comes from all over for this relief sale on our campus. They found the shirt “What Would Jesus Do at the MCC Sale?” list hilarious. The shirt prompted a discussion about the different variations under the Mennonite denomination and their origins. It was fascinating learn about.

To cap off the evening, we decided to watch a movie. We ended up going over to Albertson’s to rent National Treasure 2. Albertson’s (at least the one in Tacoma) has a vending machine to rent new releases for a dollar. Leroy had seen the movie with his son-in-law Greg, but it was the first time for Karen and me. We all really liked the twists and turns of it. I was impressed how the movie had its own storyline, and wasn’t an undiscovered tangent of the original plot. I also enjoyed the role of Ben’s mother in the movie.

What I really enjoyed what how this family watches movies. We paused it for bathroom and snack breaks so that we didn’t miss things in the plot. We started with popcorn and grabbed some ice cream in the middle of the movie.

After the movie we charted out the next day, realizing they would be gone to work before I left. So we said our good-byes then, and I prayed for them in this new phase of their lives. I have really enjoyed my time with them. I journaled for awhile in bed, and then went to sleep

Day 6 - 06/07/2008

2008-06-09T11:24:00.000-07:00

I forgot to set any kind of alarm, also figuring I’d be waking up as early as I have been, and was shocked when I awoke and my cell phone said it was 9:10. I showered quickly, and Leroy was making breakfast. We talked over breakfast about work and our families, having a good catch-up time. They had other friends coming into town this same weekend, but who were only available for the day. So Leroy & Karen left to collect them from the airport around 11 a.m., and they would be back early in the evening.

I stayed around the house for the first couple hours, updating yesterday’s journal and uploading pictures. I had said I wouldn’t, but I decided it would be smart to check my work e-mail. And it was a good thing I did because I found a couple things requiring my attention, and so I quickly took care of those. Hopefully that’s all there will be.

Karen had printed off some information from the internet for me on the Museum of Glass. I had seen it in the AAA Tourbook, but since they don’t have many street-level maps (none of Tacoma) nor directions, I was glad for the printouts. So I set out, planning to visit that and a few different areas.

I started with the Tacoma Narrows Bridge, one of the largest suspension bridges in the world. The original bridge opened in 1940, and broke in a windstorm a few months later due to design failures. It reopened in 1950. I got pretty close to it, and took a lot of pictures. They had signs posted about no pedestrians crossing the bridge, so I didn’t go very far out.

I tried to follow the directions to the museum from the printouts, but the streets are not well marked in Tacoma. So I drove around for awhile, getting rather frustrated, when I saw a sign. Not a sign for the museum, but for an Open House. This was too much of an opportunity to pass up, so I followed the many signs and stopped in front of a beautiful home. I have long been thinking about the possibility of moving to Washington (among other places). There’s an excellent MBA program at University of Washington, I have family and friends here, and I like the climate.

I introduced myself to Mark (the realtor), and we talked for awhile about homes, our respective states, and other things. He started to show me the property, but I interjected and asked for the price. $425K. I think it was big enough and had enough potential to be worth that much, but it was a fixer-upper on top of this. He was gracious and showed me the house anyway even after telling him that I was only pre-approved for $200K (it’s not like he was showing it to anyone else right then anyway). He also gave me another perk about living in Tacoma. I had heard Seattle was bottlenecked with traffic, and this was a major deterrent to me considering a move up her since my job would likely be in Seattle. That’s where our Deloitte office is, and probably any future private industry employers. Tacoma has a metro-type system for $60/month that takes you right into downtown Seattle for only $60/month. Tacoma is over 30 miles from Seattle. I get about 32 miles/gallon. At $4/gallon, assuming 20 work days per month roundtrip, that’s about $160 in gas costs. And then thinking about time spent in traffic and parking costs in Seattle just adds to it all. Maybe I've been thinking about this a little too much.

Mark and his wife Oanh (pronounced “one”) are a realty team, and she was hosting another open house a few miles away, and that house was only $278K. He encouraged me to check it out, saying it didn’t need much work. It just seemed worth checking out, especially since they made it a practice to keep their open houses going until 5 p.m. (most close at 4 p.m., and it was almost 4:30 p.m.). He also gave me their business card stapled to an Elected Officials guide, so I could know more about the state.

Mark had given me verbal directions over to Oanh’s open house, I had repeated them back to him, and I got there without getting lost. I was so proud of myself because I was really starting to get my bearings in this city. I met Oanh, and she was very sweet. I saw the house and loved it, except that it was only two bedrooms with one bath. If moving was a possibility for me right now, I might have put in an offer.

I left there, and decided to try once again for the Chihuly Bridge of Glass (since the museum was about to close, the bridge was the only option). This time I made some better guesses on street names and found it! I had been so close the whole time but didn’t know it because they weren’t any big signs on the museum advertising what this huge conical building was. I found free parking on the street, and asked a guy milling around on the street about how to get up to the bridge. He directed me to a winding stairwell with very narrow steps. I don’t like steps like that. They have similar ones outside the Ponderosa Chapel at Hume Lake, and they’re very annoying because quick ascension/descension is made difficult by the slight vertical progression made for the comparably drastic horizontal progression. And the main reason I take stairs is not for the exercise (that’s the secondary reason), but because it’s typically quicker than waiting for the elevator if less than three floors (the actual number of floors varying based on the number of elevators present, the speed of such elevators, and your physical shape). Enough of that side rant, back to the Bridge of Glass.

The Chihuly Bridge of Glass is an actually Bridge between the Museum of Glass and Union Station. This bridge has three main display areas of glass art, all made by Dale Chihuly. The first is a set of huge display cases of individual works of glass art (vases and such) on either side of the bridge. Secondly, there are two huge towers with chunks of blue glass hanging off at random points from the circumference like bells on a rope. And finally, there is a covered area, the Seaform Pavilion, where the ceiling is enclosed with thousands of individual pieces of glass art.

Driving around downtown Tacoma was very interesting. I saw some runners all over with numbers affixed to their clothing for some kind of race. And twice I saw a bride with entourage in tow walking the streets. I wonder if that was for some kind of photo shoot or something rather than an actual wedding. She didn’t look nearly annoyed enough to have to be walking around downtown in her wedding dress for that to actually be her wedding. I also encountered three guys tying blue and white balloons to street posts and rails everywhere, and noticed from their shirts that they were supporting a Democrat for Congressional election. I didn’t go up and ask any further questions. The architecture of the whole city was fantastic. I took pictures of so many homes and buildings because I was just in awe of the beauty around me.

I returned to my car and drove out to Point Defiance Park. There’s also a zoo and aquarium there, which I had little to no interest in (more on that tomorrow). I was looking for the hiking trails and gardens. They weren’t easy to find because I followed the initial signs that said “Point Defiance Park.” I would learn tomorrow that you need to ignore those signs. I parked in Lot A by the zoo, and started walking. I found a couple of short trails, and ended up turning around because they dead-ended into residential areas.

I walked back up to where I had seen some people walking around some old railroad cars. I got up there and started to take pictures. I asked a guy to take a picture of me with the train I was next to, and subsequently introduced myself. His name was Bufford, and I asked him where hiking trails started. He said he had just been back deeper in this area to have a few beers, but that if I followed the railroad tracks, that there would be some hiking trails. He was a pretty interesting character.

I found a whole old-fashioned railroad set up along with the Cabin Six Museum, all there to commemorate the logging industry that used to be so popular in this area. I moseyed quickly through the museum, but moved on to find some hiking trails. I found some, and had the best time walking around taking pictures and enjoying the scenery, especially the fallen trees and exposed root structures. There were a lot of forks in the trails, and no markers whatsoever, and I was very quickly lost. I don’t think I should be allowed to go hiking alone anymore. I kept walking around, and eventually found some people and ask them how to get back to the zoo, and they pointed back the way they had come. That got me to an unfamiliar paved road.

I was about to pick a way to go, when I looked across and saw Puget Sound and a rock beach. I decided to just go over for a little while to take some pictures. I walked along a trail near the road, because going any farther toward the beach would have led me off a cliff, and it’s one of my personal goals not to do that this trip. I walked and soon saw a father and son who looked like they had just gotten down there, though, and noticed that this area had enough of a grade (albeit a steep one) where I apparently could get down and back up. I figured if they had done it that I could, too. I had some trouble, and skidded a couple times, but moved quickly enough not to fall forward. I was pretty proud of myself for making it down, and then noticed a plank staircase a few meters off in the distance that I would have stumbled upon if I had hiked a little longer. I took a few pictures, and then took the stairs back up, and asked some more people for directions to the zoo. They pointed and I walked. I returned to my car pretty tuckered out, and started the drive home.

I stopped to get gas at Arco for only $4.11/gal, and then the bank to get more cash. Finally I drove by the Seminary to get some daylight (as much of it there was on this cloudy day) pictures of the place.

Leroy and Karen weren’t back when I returned, so I decided to watch Amazing Grace, which I had seen lying on the Entertainment Center in their soon-to-be family room. I got an hour into it before they returned home. I was hooked because it was such a fascinating movie.

Karen heated up a frozen pizza for dinner, and we talked and ate for quite awhile. Realizing how late it had gotten, we quickly formulated plans for church in the morning. Karen graciously volunteered to iron my clothes for church (and I NEVER refuse someone else’s offer to iron), and Leroy told me their Sunday morning routine. They usually leave an hour early and go to Starbucks to either read or talk. I thought about that for a moment and thought it was so ingenious. I think as families, we get so stressed about getting ready for church and rushing out the door in the morning, that we already have our hearts and minds distracted by the time we get to church. By taking an hour or so before church to just go relax, I think that would do wonders for preparing ourselves for worship. I think I may start doing something similar for myself when I get back home. We said good-night, and I finished watching the movie before retiring myself.

More Pictures

2008-06-07T13:24:00.000-07:00

Day 3 Highlights

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2002633&l=41989&id=150900395

Day 4 Highlights

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2002638&l=8aad6&id=150900395

Day 5 - 06/06/2008

2008-06-07T13:08:00.000-07:00

I didn’t sleep well because of how cold it was. I could not stay warm, even with my blanket, and kept waking up. At five a.m., I got up to use the restroom, and figured I’d stay up to type out yesterday’s blog. I ran the heater in the car for a little while, and that helped.

Honestly, typing out all this detail takes awhile to do each day—at least an hour, usually two. But I think about my last trip, and I am so glad I did the same, especially since losing all my pictures to hard drive self-destruction. I find that my memory doesn’t retain all the details of my vacations because I am on sensory overload while relaxing (or at least trying to relax). I love being able to go back later and relive the journey again, remembering the nuances of the trip I had forgotten.

The trip came at just the right time. The Wednesday before I left, my work laptop was upgraded to Vista, something I was VERY opposed to. That Thursday and Friday were excruciatingly painful, trying to learn a new operating system and Office 2007. I had even been through all the trainings offered by my company. Just as I was about to hurl my laptop through a window in frustration, I was free for vacation. I am getting a chance to get used to this devastating change on a gentler learning curve, only using it for my trip to type and upload pictures.

I typed yesterday’s blog, and got a couple more hours of fitful sleep. I slept a little better, not because I would say it was “warmer” as much as “less cold.”

It is so beautiful out here. After getting dressed, I got out to take some pictures of the rest area where I had parked last night. There was a lush river running underneath the bridge of the freeway, and another traveler mentioned that she had never seen the river this high. She attributed it to the heavy snow they has gotten (over 500 feet on the highest mountains, she said—WOW!), and remarked that she hoped it stayed for the duration of the summer. I didn’t get her name because she walked off right away and seemed in a hurry.

I had told Earle I would call him when I reached Salem, but I passed through it at 8 a.m., and didn’t know if I should call that early. There was a bookstore that my friend Stacia had recommended I stop at in Portland (apparently three stories with themed rooms), so I figured I’d be safe to wait. Looking in my AAA Tour Book, I also found a number of interesting things to visit in Portland. The free thing that really caught my eye was the Grotto, the National Sanctuary of Our Sorrowful Mother.

I called Earle and he recommended the Rose Gardens over the Grotto, and I decided to consider changing my plans. The AAA TourBook had said it was “a place of reflection for all faiths” and I was really intrigued to see what that meant. So I did end up choosing the Grotto, hoping to catch the Rose Gardens on the way back. I called and got directions since it was off the Tourbook’s street map.

The Grotto was fascinating in its own right, and a beautiful sanctuary of sorts, but a sanctuary to Mary. I met Sister Dorothy at the welcome center, and she was very nice. However, I did not feel as though I would want to worship there, and I am sure religions that aren’t in some way related to Catholicism wouldn’t feel welcomed. There were actually two levels: a ground level, and an upper level 10 stories up a cliff accessible by elevator. I was running short on time and there was a charge for the elevator anyway.

From there I tried to return to the 205 to the 5, and had the hardest time because they only marked the 205 from one direction, and it wasn’t the direction I was heading. I found it after two U-turns, and I credit my ability to do those to my dad, who taught me that U-turns are a regular part of driving and just make the whole experience more fun. I made it back to the 5 and then to the 405 (so now I know why it’s an INTERstate—I had wondered what other state it was in besides CA) to get to Powell’s. Downtown Oregon is crazy to navigate. It’s so beautiful, so I wasn’t stressing once I found the bookstore. I just kept driving around until I found a place to park, only almost (but never actually) turning the wrong way on a one way street.

Once I found a place to park, I had the hardest time figuring out the machine to pay because they aren’t just simple meters where you insert coins. I had a passerby help me out because the instructions were so unclear as to when my card needed to be in or out, etc. He left when we both thought I was set, but my receipt never printed. I think it was out of labels. So I went across the street and got another one. I’m trying to decide if it will be worth the effort to challenge the first $1.90 charge on my credit card. I stuck the receipt to the inside of my car and walked the two blocks to the bookstore.

I loved it from the first minute I saw it. The bike racks outside where of varying heights and had well-known titles atop each one, as though they were books on a bookshelf. Going inside, I had a little bit of a letdown. The entrance is really lacking in presentation. I felt like I was in a library, not a charactered three-story bookstore. Another new word: making character an adjective. Are these really new words or just new definitions/uses? The suffices make words that MS Word does not recognize. Hmmm.

But the different rooms and the layout soon made up for anything the main entrance was lacking. There are different colored rooms for different themes of books, and the themes are broad (“sports, exercise & puzzles” vs. “baseball”), to let each room usually have something for each visitor. I had only an hour on the meter, so I really couldn’t let myself get too lost or absorbed in anything, but it was denying withdrawals from a drug addiction: an addiction to reading. As Earle told me on phone, I could spend a week there. I picked up a book here and there, trying to read only the cover and not open the pages. I slipped a few times and started getting engrossed in the richness of the text, but I usually recovered myself by reaching for another title. There were so many books I wanted to buy but knew I shouldn’t. I have to read the ones I already have on my bookshelf first.

I heard my cell phone alarm go off, giving me the ten- minute (really fifteen, but I told myself ten just to play it safe) notice. I dashed quickly through the last remaining rooms and headed out the front door. I needed to get put not just because the meter would expire, but because Earle and Harriet were waiting for me.

Google Maps had said it would be ten minutes from Powell’s to Earle & Harriet’s. If not for the bridge to get across the Washington/Oregon border, it would have taken that long. Because of that wait time, it took 20, but I made it. Their house is so beautiful; most of the houses in the neighborhood were. I would find out later that the lots are pie-shaped. Maybe trapezoidal is a more accurate term. Each property touches two parallel streets, and the diagonal lines that form the edges of the property give every owner either a smaller front yard or a small back yard. They have the long property edge for their front yard, but the house is pretty far forward on the property, so they have a fairly long backyard.

I knew from the address listing that Earle was his middle name. He told me shortly after I arrived that he now goes by his given name Sherman. Apparently it was a family tradition of unknown reason that all the boys in his family were called by their middle names because his brother and father were similarly addressed by their middle names. Since I had no recollection of them, it was easy for me to switch over to Sherman, but he was kind enough to only tell me informatively, leaving it open for me to continue calling him Earle if I so chose.

Sherman and Harriet introduced my parents to each other, and sang together at Mom and Dad’s wedding. This experience felt like the movie “Back to the Future,” where Michael J. Fox’ character gets a chance to go back and find out if things really happened the way his parents said. Of course what my parents said was true, but I got some new anecdotes and pieces of the story I hadn’t had before.

Sherman and Harriet moved up to Vancouver in 1986 a) to get out of Orange County, and b) to be nearer their three children, who are scattered through the Northwest. So they remember me from my toddler years. Harriet had pulled out some old pictures she had of Mom & Dad’s wedding, as well as other pictures of us, including our last several Christmas letters.

Sherman and Harriet are in their early 80’s, but live with the vitality of a couple in their thirties and the wisdom of their true years. I wasn’t necessarily surprised, but more impressed at the mental acuity they displayed with even the minutest details. Sherman did most of the talking, and self-admittedly went off on several conversational tangents. He says he has a doctorate in digressing, and Harriet’s must be in getting him back on track. One thing I was especially impressed with is their financial savvy and self-discipline.

Sherman & Harriet still maintain their large two-story house that has at least four bedrooms and bathrooms. It amazed me to hear all that they do. Sherman still mows his lawn and even maneuvers the mower down the steps to the garden area. But he was having trouble getting it back up the steps, so he laid some plywood runner boards and put a mesh material over them to give traction when the boards get slippery in the rain. Sherman & Harriet have a pool table in the basement and play about three games each day. They have a clothesline strung across the room from the ceiling with abacus beads to keep score.

Harriet made some delicious turkey sandwiches for us for lunch, and that’s when I really started learning about how well they take care of themselves physically. They exercise by walking past the treadmill in there basement every day, whether they feel like they need to or not. ;-) They actually do take very good care of themselves, working around the house, Harriet doing water aerobics, taking vitamins, etc.

Sherman is also big into model trains, and has a huge set up that takes up the whole basement main room (it just goes around the pool table on that side of the room. This is where I really saw the similarities between Dad and Sherman. He had modified so much of the electronics on the train (even creating a few simple customized tools along the way), and set it up so masterfully, I would swear Dad had constructed it. He had changed so gas lanterns to electrical wiring and set them overhead. The train station was actually set up with three model-sized communities, with each building hand-constructed and representing something in either their past or their surrounding community. It was amazing!

And then I saw the similarities between Harriet and Mom. Harriet is addicted to Freecell and is playing the games sequentially. I think she’s at 17-something thousand. My picture of her tally card didn’t come out to show me the exact number. Both of them are very active on the computer, but a little more so for Sherman: doing consumer reports research, investing, e-mail, buying from Amazon, etc.

They both gave me a tour of the interior of the house, and then Sherman and I walked around the outside a little so he could how me their garden and front yard. They’ve significantly down-sized their garden this year, only having four tomato plants, a zucchini plant, and a few other things. But they do have several fruit trees, including an accidental cherry tree. Apparently, one of the cherries fell off the tree they planted, and sprouted into a new tree about feet away! So now they have two of those.

They had an engagement to play Pinochle that evening, and I had to get up to Tacoma to meet Leroy & Karen, so I left around 4 p.m. We so enjoyed each other, though, that we’re hoping it would work for me to stop by again on my way back down to spend a little more time with them.

I stopped to get gas and then headed up the freeway to Tacoma. I needed to get there before 7 to get the house key from Karen because they had a seminary graduation to attend that evening. Traffic was at a standstill getting on the 5 in Vancouver, but it soon cleared up. I powered on up there, and it looked like I would make it, cutting it pretty close. But then when I needed to merge onto the 16W, all hope was lost. Three lanes needed to merge into one for the on-ramp, and that lane disappeared getting onto the freeway, requiring it to merge with the next-right lane of traffic.

So I had told Karen I was fine just hanging out in my car until they returned. I had plenty to do, typing out today’s journey and updating finances, etc. During the reception Karen texted me and invited me to come over for that, even subsequently responding to my question that jeans and tennis shoes would be suitable attire. So I drove over and was able to see the seminary they now work at. The seminary is in a large three-story (plus basement) mansion, originally owned by the Weyerhaeuser family. Its construction actually works quite well for the purposes and uses of the school. I also got to meet some of the other seminary employees as I helped Karen put away food after the reception. There are actually three Karens at the seminary, one working on each floor (Leroy’s office is on the second floor, and Karen’s is on the third). There’s an elevator, but it’s the old kind where the user has to pull ropes hand over hand, so it’s only used for transporting books and other heavy materials.

I followed Leroy & Karen home and got a tour of their new home. They ended up buying a fixer-upper, and that term describes the house well. It’s a beautiful home, but I was almost keeled over in laughter hearing them tell me some of the stories of what the prior two owners had tried and failed to do to the house. They were laughing, too, so I wasn’t laughing at their inherited workload, but just the nonsense of it all. I have to give them a lot of credit for undertaking a project like this. They’ve made amazing progress on the home in the two months they’ve been here, and are really thinking through the proper steps to take in repairing this place.

It was 11 p.m. when we finished the tour, and we stood talking upstairs for another hour before we were all so exhausted that we went to bed.

Comments & Pictures

2008-06-06T19:34:00.000-07:00

Hi Everyone,

Thanks to all of you who are following along on my journey. I just realized that my default comment settings weren't letting people without blogspot accounts post comments. I've now changed that so that you can post freely.

I'm working through the Day 3 and 4 pictures to upload to Facebook. It takes awhile to either sift through for highlights or to just post all of them. Day 4 has 454 pictures.

Karl

Day 4 - 06/05/2008

2008-06-06T19:29:00.000-07:00

I am just now realizing that Serena (my Civic) is smaller than Jordan (my former 1993 Jetta). Jordan took me on last road trip in Summer 2006, and honestly gave me a little more room when sleeping in his front seat. It’s more of a squeeze sleeping in Serena at night. And just like last time, the front driver’s seat is really the most convenient place to sleep because of all the stuff in the front passenger’s and entire back seats that would need to be moved. Sleeping in my car doesn’t have the allure it did two years ago (as much as it ever did have an allure), but I still prefer it to shelling out money on a motel room.

Today I had to make tracks. I left Wal-Mart by 9 a.m., and by 1 p.m. had driven farther than I had in either of the previous two days.

I have been having trouble getting consistent radio signal and either have to keep scanning or switch over to the Bible on CD. With the Bible, I just got through Jude today, and since the Revelation CD doesn’t appear to be there, I’m going to start back at Genesis. But today, with the music, the signal has been more consistent and clear, and I’m finding a lot of Christian stations. KLove is a familiar one to me since we have it in Fresno, but I also found the Candle. Their tag line is “Points you North when you’re heading South." Love it!

There is a lot of construction on the part of the 101 that I’m traveling today. At one point the two lane highway was reduced to one lane for about a mile-long stretch, and four highway workers were coordinating having the northbound traffic stop to let a certain amount of the southbound traffic get through and then vice versa. Thankfully I didn’t have to wait long. Just North of the one-lane area were signs galore for “Confusion Hill.” This was too intriguing not to pull over.

I took a lot of pictures, but I’m still not completely sure what Confusion Hill is supposed to be. They had a gravity room and something else each with paid admission, but I just didn’t feel up for anything structured at that time. It really wasn’t the money this time. I just wanted to stay only as long as I wanted to and be able to leave at any time. The FAQ posted was rather sarcastic and witty, and I wasn’t in the mood to put up with that verbally from a guide. In the middle of the parking lot was the world’s largest redwood carving, a very tall totem pole.

I started to take pictures of it and noticed a woman standing up against it and a man several feet away snapping photos. I offered to take their picture, and they were delighted at my offer, and only too happy to take my picture with my camera. I introduced myself and found out that Ty & Ellen were from Napa and were driving North in their RV “as far North as [they] felt like going.” Ellen was really sweet and open; Ty was a nice guy, just less outgoing than Ellen. I could see some light tension between them, though: Ellen mentioned that Ty was supposed to quit smoking on this trip as he puffed away on his cigarette. I was impressed to see that he did stamp it out when she referred to it, so I think they’re working through things.

There were a lot of bridges that I crossed today. I love bridges: the variety of styles, length, what they extend across (bodies of water, a perpendicular street, etc.), color. I tried to get pictures of most of the ones I saw or crossed.

In general, the scenery was spectacular today. I took so many pictures with my camera propped up between my hands on my steering wheel that I filled my memory card twice. It holds about 180 pictures, and I had to get out my laptop and download them to it in order to make room for more.

One of the places I stopped to download pictures was a gas station. There was a Mexican restaurant there inside the gas station, and they were advertising dollar tacos, so I ordered a chicken one. However, I forgot to give my usual request to not make it spicy. These were Mexican tacos (small with corn tortillas), and it had to be the most spicy thing I have ever consumed. Thankfully I had the good sense not to start eating it until I got back to my car because I had to chug Gatorade in between bites. But the taco was delicious nonetheless, so I powered through and finished it. I would have given up, if not for knowing how small it was and how soon the pain would end.

The 101 took me through Redwoods National Park, which was amazing itself. Even with my horticulture class in high school, though, I am still not certain how to distinguish a redwood from other tall ominous trees. So while I THINK that the trees I saw were redwoods (though none big enough to drive a car through like I remember from second grade social studies), I really can’t be sure.

Great News! It’s raining up here! I don’t know why I was surprised that it’s raining in the Northwest, but I had missed the rain so much. I was quickly reminded by other travelers that your headlights need to be on when it’s raining (or more precisely, when your wipers are on). Serena loves the rain, too, so she was pretty excited, too.

I was obviously going to need to rejoin the 5 eventually, but I figured if I did so outside of California, it would be enough removed from work and trips to Orange County. So near the state border, I diverted from the 101 onto the 199 to drive up through Smith River Recreation Area. It was now about four p.m., and I had been pushing the drive all day. I realized there was no way I could traverse Oregon to get to Vancouver in a reasonable time this evening. I reached for my cell phone to call Earle & Harriet, but I had no cell phone signal.

So I resolved to periodically check my phone for signal, and just enjoyed the drive. The Recreation Area was filled with beautiful backdrops to the winding roads. There weren’t too many other cars, so I was able to coast for awhile, zipping on through undisturbed. However, near the end of the Rec Area, the road was again reduced to a single lane (this was now the third or fourth time today I was encountering this). Instead of highway workers directing traffic, signal lights had been installed. It took awhile for the stop, but then I got through pretty quickly.

As I left the Recreation Area, I crossed into Oregon. I had made it this far. I stopped a couple of miles into the state to fill up on gas since I guessed my tank was nearly empty. I started to get out of the car to fill up and noticed a man walking toward me. That’s when I remembered: it’s illegal to pump your own gas in Oregon. So I told him I wanted unleaded. He asked if it was cash or credit. I asked if there was a price difference, and finding out that there was, responded cash. He started to fill it up, and I pulled out my debit card. That’s when he told me that he meant actual cash. In California, you can usually use your debit card to get the cash price, but not here. This is an independent station, so it might not be a statewide thing. Since I only had $20 with me, I only had him put that much in. So I only got 4.750 gallons. I’d have to find a place to get cash and buy more within the next 150 miles.

I pulled away from the pump to allow another car through, and called Earle. He was very understanding about my situation, and invited me for lunch tomorrow. I was grateful that I would still get to see and spend time with them.

Oregon is a very different state. There were signs reminding drivers of rules of the road, such as not being allowed to pass a car on a two-lane highway it you don’t have the broken side of the yellow line on your side of the road. Very interesting. I saw a few more signs like this, but don’t remember which laws they reiterated. Maybe it’s an unrepresentative sample, but Oregon seems heavily signaged. I think I just made a new word by trying to use signage as a verb. Word doesn’t like it, but it suits my needs and flows in the context, so it stays.

Driving along, I witnessed a miracle: gas for $3.99/gal! I pulled over immediately to fill up the rest of my tank. I was now out of cash, and this station almost treated cash synonymously with debit: there was a $0.45 transaction fee, but I had little choice because I was out of actual cash. I pulled out $40 since I was already paying the $0.45. I have strong opposition to fees to use my own money, but amortizing the fee on a per-gallon basis (I got almost six gallons), it only raised the cost of the gas to $4.07/gal, which is still better than anywhere else I’ve seen on this trip. I have been able to stay under $4.50 each time, and that’s my benchmark goal for the trip.

I pulled off in Wilderville and gave Karen a call to firm up my arrival time. She would later text me to let me know that it was a 2.5 hour drive from Vancouver, WA (where Earle & Harriet live) to Tacoma, where she and Leroy live. I would be heading directly there from lunch with Earle & Harriet. As I was about to get back on the highway, I noticed that I was on Ingalls Road. I thought that was cool (and of course intentional), so I got pictures of both the street sign and the city sign. I need to reread those books.

I pulled over at a rest stop to stretch and called Don & Barbara. They don’t have e-mail, so I hadn’t been able to let them know about my road trip. I had deliberately waited until I got to Oregon, because Barbara’s first question whenever I called is “Where are you?” and I wanted to be able to give her a different answer. She was shocked when I responded “Oregon.” We talked for awhile, and she may have a friend that I could stay with on my way back down.

As I was about to get back in my car, a teenage guy got out of the pickup parked next to me. He said he and the two boys traveling with him were trying to get to Eugene and needed gas, asking if I could spare a couple bucks. I usually decline, knowing it’s more likely a scam for the money than not. And usually it’s a story that they’re stranded with nothing, leaving me an opening to offer food instead of giving money. But I figured I could give a couple dollars. It wouldn’t buy much gas, but I figured he’d be hitting up everyone else at the truck stop. He seemed genuinely embarrassed to be asking for the money and admitted as such. I told him that everyone needs some help sometimes. Hopefully I didn’t add to his belief that everyone’s a sucker for a sob story.

My next concern was where to stop for the night. I really needed a shower and was hoping that I was now back on the 5 that I would finally see a truck stop. At long last, I saw a Love’s Country Store. I have always been disappointed by them since visiting my second one. My first one in Arizona had atmosphere, country music playing, friendly clerks, clean premises, etc. At the second one I stopped at, I learned what truck stops are normally like. Once I learned that the latter was the standard, I adjusted. So I went inside and purchased the use of a shower.

Emerging clean shortly thereafter, I returned to the road. I figured I’d get to Eugene and find a place to sleep. My Wal-Mart atlas said that there were two there, but they didn’t appear to be near the freeway, and I didn’t feel like hunting them down. There were three in Salem, with one just off the 5 at exit 253. It would be a stretch, but I resolved to make it. At 11 p.m., I was 20 miles away, gave up and stopped off a rest stop. There was no sign about not sleeping the night here. This would do.

Day 3 - 06/04/2008

2008-06-06T19:26:00.000-07:00

These sleep goggles are amazing! I would be waking up so early if not for them. However, because of the dogs, I did wake up early anyway. Not because of the barking, but because two of them pushed open my door and bounded in. Thankfully I heard their toenails clacking on the Oak floor and pulled off my eye mask to see them just in time. One jumped up on the bed to greet me. Beth was right behind them, calling them back out. It was actually more funny than frightening. I was too timid to put my eye mask back on because I kept hearing their toenails clacking on the floors outside my room and was uneasy about the prospect of them rejoining me. I could see out the window that it was a beautiful morning, so I got up to get ready even though it wasn’t 7 a.m. yet. As I opened the door, the dogs rejoined me, licking my bare feet. Now that felt a little gross, but I might be able to get used to that with time.

I showered quickly and cleaned myself up. Jared was going to be home all day as he is working on his doctorate in epidemiology, and so I stuck around to type out yesterday’s LONG journal. I set myself up in their kitchen with the most amazing morning view. I stayed there until almost noon, alternating between typing Day 2’s journal, posting pictures, and conversing with Jared. We talked about FPU, the classes we had together, our careers now, and a bunch of other stuff.

Serena would like to give a shout out to Peanut Le Bug (Amanda’s VW Bug). Peanut gave some special recognition to Serena on my Facebook pictures, and Serena just wanted to say thanks for noticing that Karl is not the only one on this road trip.

On my way out, I stopped at Target to pick up a few items I had discovered a need for: a compass and hand sanitizer. I also grabbed some food I saw there on clearance. I then got back on the freeway headed north.

I think a lot about what I’m experiencing here on the road. One song that keeps coming on the radio is Brooks & Dunn’s “Put a Girl in It.” A little crass, but it makes the point that having a girl (a wife, hopefully) completes your life. I don’t know if I agree with that right now. I’ve gone back and forth on whether or not I really want to get married. I think right now that you can create that richness in your life through friendships and the way you contribute to the lives of others. I hope I’m building that kind of life. If not, I really need to get on that wife search. ;-)

My next stop was Santa Cruz. I needed to get gas, and I went in to ask the attendant for directions to the Boardwalk and advice on a cheap place to park. He gave me some directions, and I headed out. Before leaving the station I called Earle & Harriet in Vancouver, WA about staying the next night (Thursday) with them. My sisters and I have grown up knowing ABOUT Earle and Harriet, who apparently either introduced Mom and Dad or were mentors to them early on in their marriage. As we grew up, we heard that they were godparents to either Rachel or me, but Mom and Dad couldn’t remember which. I got a hold of Earle, and he welcomed me to come stay. He gave me some more precise directions than I had to their home, and also gave me suggestions of places to visit on my way up.

I got pretty close to the Santa Cruz Boardwalk when I parked on the street and put 30 cents in the meter for 2 hours of parking time. I rubbed some sunscreen all over my head and arms and started walking as the signs directed. I got down there shortly and walked out on the pier. I walked the whole way on this one, and took a picture for a large family, all adults with one small girl of about three years. It took a little while to get her situated so she was facing the camera, but I think I got a good one for them.

I took several other pictures. One almost ironic sight was a lifeguard/fire truck. It was a typical lifeguard pick-up truck with surfboards and backboards atop it, but “Fire Department” was the most prevalent signage on the truck. The sight of surfboards on a fire truck seemed hilarious to me. Of course it makes sense to combine emergency response services, though. As I left the pier, I began walking the boardwalk. The history of the place is fascinating. Over 100 years, the place was obliterated by a fire, and completely rebuilt. It’s undergone the necessary changes to meet customer demand, but it remains California’s only seaside amusement park.

I got back to my car with almost half of my time left, but I was done. I had other places I wanted to see and get to. And now I had definite plans to be in Vancouver, WA by tomorrow night. I had to make trails. That was the intent anyway.

As I left, I somehow took a wrong turn (not a word, Sarah). I was intending to take the 1N further up the coast into SF to meet the 1001 to cross the Golden Gate Bridge. The signs really were confusing getting on the freeway, and of the three lanes on the street approaching the freeways, it looked like the 1S was the right lane, and the center and left lanes fed into the 17N and 1N together. I never saw a turn-off to separate them, but somehow I ended up on the 17 instead of the 1. At first, I was so grateful because of how gorgeous the drive was through the trees along the 17. That part must be a God thing. Then I got to San Jose.

I also discovered that there must be some magnetic pull within my car because the compass works fine except when mounted on my windshield, where it always points east. Thankfully I figured this out before I started relying on it.

Once I discovered my unintended detour, I immediately found the route to correct it. The 17 should feed right into the 101, so I could just take that up to the Golden Gate Bridge. And I was doing fine with the plan until the 17 disappeared and I was on the 880. Then I saw a sign for the Winchester House, and thought that would be nice to see. I got off the freeway and followed the landmark signs until they disappeared. It was almost five anyway, so I guessed it would be closed anyway. I stopped at mall because I saw a BofA where I could get some cash. I decided to go into the mall and walk around to stretch my legs. I had gotten off earlier to take a powernap because I was getting drowsy and still needed a little help waking up from that.

As I left I happened to remember that it was Wednesday. When starting this trip, I had hoped to find a church service to attend tonight, and wondered what my chances were of finding a church in San Jose with a Wednesday night service that was in line with my faith. I drove around the city for awhile, and found about three churches, none of which had Wednesday services. So I gave up and just popped back in the Bible CDs I’ve been alternating between spurts of listening to the radio. I’m in Hebrews now.

So I guessed and successfully made my way through San Jose to the 101, and resumed my trek to the Golden Gate Bridge. I was a little dejected over not finding a church, as I really could have used something uplifting like that tonight. I was talking to God about it, but I think I was just too crowded mentally to listen to Him. I needed to clear my head.

That’s when I saw signs for Half Moon Bay. I thought that would be perfect: a relaxing place (I presumed) to just sit, watch, and talk with my Savior. I started heading down Highway 92. Yes, I was back-tracking slightly, but it would meet up with the 1 at Half Moon Bay so I could revert to my original plan of taking the 1 up into SF. The drive was equally breathtaking in comparison to the 17 earlier that afternoon.

I had passed many in the past three days, but I finally stopped at a Farmers market on the side of the road. I don’t think I’ve ever done that before, and Cindy always called me crazy for not taking advantage of it. I think I remember Mom stopping sometimes when we were kids, but I’m not sure on that. I finally went to the established weekly Farmer’s Market in Fresno a couple of years ago, but I had never stopped at a roadside stand before. New experiences everywhere. I bought a handful of cherries and a basket of strawberries. Both fruits were scrumptious, as Gram Helen would say.

I finally arrived at Half Moon Bay, and because it was evening, most of the town had shut down for the night. I walked around, taking pictures of the beautiful architecture. I finally saw an open store, and went in to ask the proprietor how to get to the actual coast, and thank goodness I asked. I was going to keep heading south when I only needed to go a couple blocks west. I went out there, parked for a while (free for non-campers until sunset, which was an hour away). I took a lot of pictures, and just walked for awhile, talking to God and letting him give me some instruction and encouragement.

From there, I rejoined the 1 and started heading north. I had not made much net distance progress today, so I needed to drive for awhile. I called Dean to thank him for setting me up to stay with Jared & Beth, and he recommended that I move over and take the 5 if I needed to get to Earle & Harriet’s by tomorrow night. After talking with him, I realized he had a point. I had wanted to stay coastal on the drive up, but Dean even pointed out that I could take the coast back down if I wanted. I would see.

After we hung up, I again consulted my map. I couldn’t stomach it; the 5 just seemed so depressing. Even living so far away from it in Fresno, it had become part of my daily life, using it when I’ve been working in Stockton the whole month of May, and then on the weekends I’ve driven down to Orange County recently. This trip was about getting away from work and finding refreshment and renewal. I could do the 5 later, but not now, and not so close to Stockton. So I decided to compromise with the 101 instead of the 1.

I continued to follow the signs to Golden Gate Bridge, and then realized that I don’t think I had ever crossed this bridge before. I have crossed the Bay Bridge several times, but not the Golden Gate. After getting across, I saw a “Vista Point” sign and pulled off. This would be quick; I just wanted a few pictures of the bridge.

It took quite awhile actually because my camera was full again and I had to download them to my computer to get more than four more pictures. Then as I was taking pictures, I discovered an under-bridge walkway to get to the other side and take even more pictures. The whole scene was beautiful at dusk. I also caught a few shots of a raccoon digging through one of the trash cans at the rest area. I left after about thirty pictures.

I considered how far to drive tonight. Earle had suggested seeing the Redwoods at Willits, so I figured I’d go no farther than that so I could see them in the daylight. As God would have orchestrated it, there was a Wal-Mart right off the 101 on the way up. So I pulled over for the night there.

Day 2 - 06/03/2008

2008-06-04T10:47:00.000-07:00

I was freezing last night. A sharp contrast from my 2006 road trip, where I never used even a sheet to warm me at night, I had a sweatshirt material blanket on me. Midway through the night, I even pulled on socks to help warm my feet. I didn’t sleep too well because of it, but oh well. I did sleep later because of my eye mask. A little light would seep in at the edges, but I was shocked to see how bright it was through my sheet curtains because of how dark my mask made it.

I took my time getting ready in the morning. I cleaned myself up a little, going into the rest stop bathrooms to brush my teeth, etc. I hadn’t seen a truck stop at all yesterday, so I knew it might be awhile before I found a shower. That would be something to figure out later. I pulled out some granola bars and water for breakfast. I decided to go back to Solvang and see it in the daytime when the shops were open.

I am so glad I did. Solvang is such a tourist-friendly town. It’s deliberately structured in a Danish style, from the architecture to the food. And the store owners are pleasant, seemingly not money-hungry (buy something or get out) like many tourist trap areas are.

I stopped at a visitor info center to figure out what exactly I’d want to see there. I settled on three areas: the Bethania church, the Hans Christian Anderson museum, and the Old Mission Santa Ines.

As I walked around to my three intended destinations, I went into a couple stores and talked with the merchants there about their shops. The first was a store with the signage of a Candle Factory where I met Jenny. The store used to make candles, but now only sells them from candle-making companies around the USA. I saw some pretty neat styles of candles there. One type is a thick candle where the center is clear wax, and there are decorative designs and colors as a 3 mm thick layer around the edges. You can then place it on a light stand (only as powerful as a standard flashlight), and the candle has a trippy glow effect.

I continued walking around and found a glass shop. Unlike the other shops there, this one was very spacious, and not overly impacted with merchandise. A business consultant would go crazy here thinking of all this wasted square footage not holding saleable material, but thankfully I’m an accountant so that things like this do not bother me. I was impressed with everything I saw, but then something caught my eye. A bench for $6,400. I asked about it, meeting the storekeeper Nora, and she gave me the background info. An artist in San Diego made it out of aluminum and accented it with flat glass stones. I was painted with the basic rainbow colors in reflective tones that made it appear that you were looking at it underwater. Nora invited me to sit in and try it out. I did so warily, wondering 1) how comfortable it would be, and 2) if it would hold my weight. Surprisingly, it was both sturdy and comfortable. She said they used to have a sign inviting people to sit in it, but then it started to sign minor signs of wear, with the paint rubbing off on the arm rests, etc., so the sign was removed. Now that sitting on this bench is an invite-only kind of deal, I felt kind of special. Nora then showed me around the rest of the shop, pointing out the different styles of glass art they brought in worldwide to sell here. Another unique style was incorporating bronze with glass art, something only Romania is doing. It is used as an accent, like outlining a glass fish with fins. Absolutely beautiful.

The Bethania Evangelical Lutheran Church was nice. I don’t mean that in an unimpressive way, but I can’t think of the appropriate term. Too big for quaint, too plain for awe-inspiring, too small for magnanimous, and too beautiful for drab. There are pictures on Facebook if one of my readers can determine a better qualifier. The interior was heavily decorated at the front, and the whole inside had an aged feel to it. It felt comfortable.

I then meandered over to the Hans Christian Anderson Museum. The first floor was entirely a bookstore and coffee shop. Going upstairs, I found the actual museum. I didn’t stay long, as I kept thinking about all the other places I wanted to get to today. I did stop to read a news article I found. There’s apparently a statue (bronze, as I recall) of a mermaid on a rick in Denmark, and the statue is apparently the recipient of much abuse. The source and reason for the vandalism is unclear, according to the article. The statue has decapitated twice, and the right arm has been removed once. Most recently, and the reason for this specific article, was that the statue was now missing, having been blown off the rock with explosives. It had been there for a few decades, but only started receiving the abuse in the last couple decades, I believe. The article was well written, with a detective flair written into it: “The author is heading out from Solvang, CA to Denmark to investigate.” That’s not a word-for-word quote, but I can’t recall how to properly document a paraphrase. Clearly I wasn’t homeschooled long enough.

After the museum, I headed over to the Old Mission Santa Ines. I started having lots of fourth grade flashbacks to my mission project. I only walked around for a short while because I didn’t feel like paying the $4 for the self-guided audio tour, which would last 25 minutes. I didn’t want to stay that long. My camera battery died just as I was nearing my desired turn-around point. I would have liked to get a few more pictures, but oh well.

There is always something that goes unplanned on a trip like this, and my thing this time was electricity. I have three primary things with me requiring power: cell phone, laptop, and digital camera. I had a power inverter with me to utilize my car battery to charge these items. My fatal error was presuming that the rechargeable batteries I got for my digital camera would come already charged. They weren’t. And so as I started out yesterday, I was on the last ounce of charge in the standard AA batteries still in my camera, with nothing ready to replace them. I put the rechargeables into their charger and plugged that is through the inverter. Then I hear the familiar beep on my cell phone signifying a low battery. I can already tell that this will be a problem because once I start using my laptop, it will start sucking on the power source. I got my phone charged yesterday, and was alternating between the little life I could pour into the batteries before the other rechargeable pair (I bought four) would die.

I got back on the road bound for Pismo. I’ve lived in Fresno six years and have never been there. Like I mentioned yesterday, I am not a beach person. I followed the signs for Pismo, and somehow ended up at a place called Grover Beach. You could park at the edge of the paved road for free for fifteen minutes, or pay five dollars to drive onto the beach all day. I could see what I wanted to see in fifteen minutes, and I don’t think Serena would make it back off the sand if I tried taking her out there. She agreed. It was nice, but I couldn’t help thinking: Is this it? This is what Fresno is so excited about?

To make sure I had gone to the right place, I called my buddy Matt since I was next going to be hitting up San Luis Obispo, where he attended Cal Poly. He told me I wasn’t at “Pismo” yet, and to drive up the 1 a little ways. He also suggested a place for lunch with amazing clam chowder. As much as I love clam chowder, I really wasn’t planning to eat out on this trip in order to save money. Yes, I’m that cheap that my trunk is stuffed with water, Gatorade, and granola bars. Matt also gave me directions to the Montana de Oro State Park in SLO that purportedly had some amazing tide pools.

I drove up and parked for free a few blocks from the beach. As I walked down, I came to the Splash Café, the place Matt told me to go for clam chowder. I really like clam chowder, so I decided to indulge and get a bread bowl. I hadn’t had one of those since the FPU cafeteria. I ordered at the register, and then found a counter seat behind the fountain drink dispenser. While I waited, I read the info pieces at the counter. Apparently, this chowder is truly world famous, having won awards. More importantly, it’s sold at Costco, so I can get more if it’s that good. There were some other trivial facts about the chowder and establishment that I don’t recall.

I was in a position to see behind the counter as orders were finalized. The waitress would then yell out names and bring the food over to the raised hands. When she called out “Joe,” I signaled her over to me. I frequently use my middle name when ordering food because it has proven more efficient. When I would saw “Karl,” it would be more frequently confused with another name, but that rarely happens (if ever) with “Joe.” My coworkers find it hilarious that I don’t use my given name to order food.

I can now see why this clam chowder would be world famous. The bread bowl and chowder were amazing. The exposed insides of the bread had been lightly grilled, and the chowder was perfectly seasoned. Usually I need to add pepper, but not this time. I dipped the bread pieces in to embrace every taste. I tried to take my time and enjoy the experience, but I was lost in the delectable flavor and went a little faster. As I got further down, I started peeling apart the bowl. I don’t know if that’s normally “done,” but it was so good, and no one here would know me, so I went ahead and did it.

I then left and walked further down to Pismo Beach. Instead of going onto the beach, I went out onto the pier to get some pictures. I took a family’s picture with their camera so they could all be in it, and they took one of me with my camera. Again, the beach was beautiful, but I was still bewildered as to the incredible draw it has on my fellow denizens. Then I figured it out: this is the only beach they get to. I’m used to Orange County, where the beach is 30 minutes away, and I’m not even a big fan of the beach. So to people who like the beach but don’t get the opportunity to see it regularly, this would be pretty incredible.

I walked back to my car, and headed further north on the 101 to San Luis. Per Matt’s instructions, I got off at Los Osos Valley Road, and started heading toward the state park. I got almost all the way there, and saw a sign for the Los Osos Oaks State Reserve. I figured that would be as good as the State Park, and that there probably wouldn’t be an entrance fee.

I had borrowed a book on Highway 1 from my friend Daniel, and had looked up the State Park after Matt recommended it. The book called it “primitive. Bring your own water.” I figured the same was probably true of the reserve, so I grabbed a water bottle, my camera, my cell phone, and my keys. I figured I’d hike for a little while. I took pictures as I went, and quickly noticed that the three trails advertised at the entrance to the reserve were very intertwined and poorly marked. That just meant this would be an adventure. In no time at all, I was lost. There were so many forks in the paths that there would have been no way to keep track of which way I came from or went toward, so I just kept walking. I had opted for the trail originally marked “Chumash Loop Trail,” reasoning that a “loop trail” would bring me back around to where I had started. That was a novice’s assumption. I kept walking and taking pictures.

When I decided I was done and wanted to go back to my car, I started looking more intently for the few and far between signs. They would have arrows pointing to one or more of the three trails, and/or the parking lot. I followed the arrows to the parking lot. I came across a fork, went right, and another fork, again going to the right. I was soon back at the same sign. I thought this only happened on T.V. At least I had my cell phone so that I wouldn’t end up a news story about a guy lost in the woods for eleven days. But I really hoped I wouldn’t have to call someone to say that I was lost in the woods and needed someone to come help me out. I went left at the first fork this time, and left at the second fork. Pretty soon I came upon a third fork, and the left was obvious, as going right would take my off the cliff into the dry creek bed below. But soon I was hearing highway noise and got excited. I continued until the trail dead-ended into a pond, and I could see the highway through the brush, but no parking lot. I weighed my options, and decided to go through the brush and get out on the highway to find my way from there. I didn’t know initially which way to go to get to my car, but I soon discovered a familiar sight on the highway that I had driven past. Now with my bearings, I walked the few hundred feet back to Serena, who was waiting so patiently for me.

On the short trek back, I saw something fascinating lying on the road. Something from ancient civilizations: a 5 ¼” floppy diskette. I couldn’t believe my find! I decided to leave it in its natural habitat at the side of the road, undisturbed. But I took a picture to prove the discovery.

I returned to the 101 and shortly pulled off to the 1 to drive along the coast again, pulling off at several “Vista Points” (and even some places that weren’t technically “Vista Points”) to take pictures of the amazing scenery. I stopped at Hearst Castle, but it was closed for the day. At one of the Vista Points, I saw a couple taking pictures of each other. I offered to take their picture, but the husband said the battery had just died on them. The wife offered to take a picture of me with mine, though. We talked for a little while, and exchanged introductions. Their names are Carl and Anna, and they were visiting from Sweden. Anna had a conference to attend in L.A., and so Carl came along with her, and they took some vacation time to see California. I showed them my power inverter so they could hopefully get one for the remainder of their trip. They were a very pleasant couple, and I was glad to have met them. I am encountering so many fascinating people on this trip.

I needed to make it to Seaside tonight to stay with Jared and Beth. I had called Jared earlier in the day to ask about staying with them for a night, and he graciously extended an invitation. I drove through Big Sur, stopping occasionally to take pictures. I called Jared to get exact directions, and arrived here about 9 p.m. They have three dogs, none of whom are too big or too hyper. I am getting more okay with dogs as I get older. I remember being terrified of them as a kid, but now I could see myself having an outside dog once I get a house and am not traveling so much for work.

Beth had to get up early for work, so she retired soon after my arrival, but Jared and I stayed up to talk for awhile. I hadn’t gotten to know Beth too well at Pacific, but I did have a class with Jared where I got to know him. It was nice to get to know them better now and see where life has brought them. Before Jared went to bed, he set me up on their wireless network so I could upload pictures and blogs. I stayed up until 11:30 and then went to bed myself.

Pictures

2008-06-04T07:30:00.001-07:00

Here are pictures of the highlights from my first two days on the road.

Day 1
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2002620&l=d8686&id=150900395

Day 2
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2002621&l=6f829&id=150900395

Day 2 blog will come as soon as I finish typing it. It was a long day, and I'm not known for my brevity.

Day 1 – 06/02/2008

2008-06-03T22:29:00.000-07:00

WOW! I am so excited to be out here on the road again.

I got a deliberately late start this morning. I had originally planned to leave yesterday afternoon, but there were so many extra things to take care of and people to spend time with. And I realized that this is my vacation, to be accomplished on my timetable (with respect to my hosts’ timetables, of course).

But this morning I waited to let rush hour traffic stand still while I had breakfast with my sister Rachel, which gave us a chance to catch up. I like how my relationship with each of my sisters is changing as we all mature.

I had hope to leave by 9:30, but didn’t get on the road until 10:10. My friend JoAnne had been near salivating over my trip and wanted to come along with me when I told her at church about my trip. I knew she’d be a hoot to have along, so I made a sincere offer, which her daughters declined for her, reminding us both that “it’s only nine weeks until [Amanda’s, the younger daughter] wedding.” I still fail to see why JoAnne couldn’t play hooky for at least a week on this thing. So I called her to see if she wanted to come along, but she had surrendered to reason. And she’s an accountant, too, so there’s no chance spontaneity is going to trump reason.

I then called my pseudo-grandmother Marge to ask if I could stop in for a quick visit since I hadn’t seen her since Christmas. She said she was heading out the door to line dance class, so I told her I’d just meet her there. Since I had been planning to leave yesterday, the possibility of going to a line dance class hadn’t entered my mind. I was especially excited about going because our instructor Carri is moving Albuquerque later this month and handing over her classes to other instructors. I wasn’t going to get to see her to say good-bye otherwise. We had a very nice class, and I got to see a few familiar faces.

So then I got back on the road at 11:30. I’m reminding myself that this trip is on my timetable.
I don’t really know where I was going. I had worked for almost half an hour on GoogleMaps last night outlining my route. I plugged in all my scheduled stops, and then had to manually drag the route to get the paths I wanted. The website was defaulting to the 5, and I wanted to drive up the coast to get something a little more scenic. I took a lot of zooming in & out and dragging & dropping, but I felt pretty good about what I had when I finished. It is seven pages long.

One thing I didn’t do is read it. And so I started following it, realizing that I had no specific idea of where it was taking Serena (my car, a 1994 Honda Civic) and me. I was just following the rights and lefts, with no concept of which direction I was facing or which city I was in at any given time. I realize now that I should have bought a compass. A GPS would take all the fun out of this, but a compass would be wise. Just to know that I’m still heading north or west would be a comfort.

But with a little faith in God and Google (forgive the sacrilege), I soon arrived at the physical coast. A bunch of signs told me that I was in Marina del Rey, at some wetlands harbor or something. I put a quarter in the meter and walked around for a little bit. I saw a man feeding pigeons, and he had dozens flocking around him. Just inland, across the street from the pier line, was the Ballona Lagoon, a beautiful area surrounded by bridges for some excellent picture opportunities.

A little more driving got me to an actual beach, which one I am not sure. For those of you who may not know, I am not a beach person. I am my mother’s son, long ingrained with a disdain for the sand that somehow tracks into shoes, then clothes, then car, then home, never leaving, always digging into everything (particularly my nerves). But as I age, I find that I do occasionally enjoy the beach in small doses. One of the many good ways I am becoming more and more like my dad. I had decided to do a coastal trip, so I dutifully got out, and took some pictures. I even walked out on the sand, and got some pictures of the waves. I didn’t actually go into the water, though. I wasn’t ready to stretch myself that much. There weren’t very many people there, and it made me very glad that I had waited to leave until today, when most were back in school or at work.

I am alternating between trying to find a good music radio station and listening to the Bible on CD, which I borrowed from my friend Kaye. I’m listening to the New Testament starting in Galatians. It’s very encouraging to have Scripture read aloud. And the reader is very engaging.

Around midday, I started getting drowsy, so I pulled off to the shoulder of the highway to rest. I got a light powernap in, and kept going.

So I got back in my car and continued driving. Somewhere along the way, I actually found my way onto PCH. The scenery was beautiful, and I snapped several pictures from the confines of my car along the highway. I pulled off the road again at another “beach access” sign. The road led me onto a residential street, with a couple beach access gates. Interestingly, the gates had big & obvious “No Dogs on the Beach” signs, but then the sand was littered with dogs (mostly unleashed) and their owners. I ignored them and took a few quick shots of the scenery. Thankfully I was so engrossed in my photography efforts, because happened to look down after a shot and see a huge dog dart past me. It had probably gone right up to me, and I never heard its owners call it back. If I had seen the dog come toward me, I probably wouldn’t have held it together too well.

I returned to the car and got back on the highway. I drove for awhile longer, and then pulled over at the Santa Monica Mtns Nat’l Recreation Area (I snapped a photo of the sign so I’d remember the name). It didn’t overlook a beach, but an estuary, according to the sign. I don’t know what an estuary is, but there were birds on the informational signs, too, so I assume it’s somehow similar to an aviary. I’ll look it up later.

I pulled off the 101 again when I saw the sign for Summerland. Not sure why, but I drove through that town for a little while. It was just after 5, so all the antique stores and anything for a tourist to visit were closed.

I was wondering how far I’d really get today. I had told Leroy and Karen I’d be arriving the 5th or 6th, so I have time to take it slow, but I hadn’t even gone 200 miles today. My goal was to get far enough out to make it ridiculous to consider turning around and going back to my parents’ house. Not that I would go back, but I wanted to get far enough out to feel like I’ve really started my trip. If only I could have known what would happen next that would really get my trip started.

I pulled off at the Gaviota rest stop, had a few spoonfuls of peanut butter as a snack, and took a few pictures of the tourist information stuff. But as I was getting out of my car, a girl got out of the passenger seat from the car next to mine and began approaching me. She was young, probably late teens or early twenties. She had light brown hair, and a feather and what looked like a wine cork capturing a single dreadlock in the middle of her mid-arm-length hair. She asked me if I was headed to San Francisco, and I replied that I would be passing through it. She then asked if I might like a passenger. I said I wasn’t sure, and she asked if she could have a few minutes to tell me “what she was all about.” I introduced myself, and she said her name was Carliegh, and the consonance in our names was fate according to her. Her friend had brought her this far in hopes of her finding a ride. She lives in some sort of community that is all about the protection, preservation, and enhancement of women. She was going to visit her best friend in SF so that they could “dream together” and make plans about starting another similar place in Mendocino. I am not making any of this up. I figured she was harmless enough physically, but mentally and spiritually was a little off her rocker. This all sounded like a commune or Wiccan community to me, and I really didn’t want to support that, but the drive could be a witnessing opportunity. But what really made me say no is that I didn’t want to push to get to SF tonight, and me sleeping in my car obviously was going to make this an infeasible situation. She understood, and left me with “May the peace of the goddess be with you.”

I called my friend Dean from the rest stop, just in case he might be in Monterey that I could see him and his wife Kathy on my way up, but they wouldn’t be out there until this weekend. He did give me the suggestion of going to visit Solvang, and the possibility of visiting his daughter and son-in-law Beth & Jared up in Seaside.

So I drove the few miles up to Solvang, but because it was so late, all the stores and tourist info booths were closed up. I took some pictures of the town, and then noticed a man coming toward me to ask for my help. I would later learn that his name is Josko (pron. yos-koe), and that he was here from Croatia on a job interview. He needed help translating the bus schedule to get back to Santa Barbara, because his English was somewhat broken. I helped him figure out when the next bus was due. There was only one more coming that night, and it was an hour away. He asked if I wanted to go to Subway to talk for awhile. I accepted. Josko thought this was a sit-down restaurant, and kept trying to get the attention of one of the workers to come over to our table like a waiter. Neither of us were hungry, and so I just got up to get some cups for us to have some water.

We talked for awhile about where we were each from, our families, and our jobs. Croatia is a very interesting place that I really want to visit someday. I had a few friends at FPU from there, and since learning about it back then, I have wanted to include it in my future European travels.

We went back outside to wait for the bus, and it was pretty cold outside, mainly due to the high-speed winds. I didn’t want to leave him alone, though, until he got on the bus, since his English was stilted, and he really had trouble when encountering people working in the US who weren’t fluent in English. While we waited, we took a few pictures of each other with the other’s camera. And he gave me a speedy slideshow of his from leaving Croatia to arriving in LAX, to traveling to Santa Barbara and then here.

But the bus never came. Looking at the schedule, the next bus would come at 5:15 a.m. He realized he needed to get a hotel, and so I took him over to the Best Western, which I guessed would be the cheapest option. He asked if I wanted to split the room, but I wanted to sleep in my car and save the money. But I was able to use my AAA membership to get him a discount on the room. After getting him set up with a wake-up call, and setting his alarm clock (knowing from experience how reliable those wake-up calls can be), I wished him well and got back on the road.

I thought about where to spend the night, and decided to go back to the Gaviota rest stop. I didn’t think I’d find a Walmart too easily, and there wasn’t a sign at the rest stop saying people couldn’t sleep there. I got to the southbound-side rest stop this time (having been on the northbound-side earlier), and there was a sign saying there was an eight-hour parking limit. I put up my curtains, reclined my seat, and typed out today’s journal. For dinner, I pulled out some trail mix and beef jerky that I had brought with me from my apartment. The jerky was advertised as being softer/more chewy or something to that effect, but it seemed extremely tough. That’s when I noticed the best if used by 12/19/2006 date. Oh well, I guess a year and a half will diminish freshness. I then accidentally bumped it trying to get situated with my laptop, and it fell on my floor. If Jiffy Lube hadn’t recently vacuumed my carpets when I had my oil changed last week, I might have thrown it away. Yes, I still ate it. Then I pulled out my pillows, put on my eye-goggle sleep mask, and tried to get to sleep.

Xanga

2008-06-01T00:37:00.001-07:00

So I have been told by Josh that Xanga is dead. I have trouble arguing with that, but I like Xanga as it is now because it's not the "in" thing.

So to hopefully generate more of a following for my road trip, I will be posting my road trip journals here AND on Xanga. I can't abandon Xanga, especially in honor of the minute amount of dedicated people who read up on the happenings in my life. I expect that this blog will only last the duration of my trip, though.

I'm down in Orange County now, getting the final prep work done for my trip. My dad helped me fashion curtains for my car of of a king-sized Wal-Mart sheet. Since I'll be sleeping in my car (all moms gasp here), I'll need and want privacy. I'm planning to leave late Sunday afternoon, but may wait until Monday morning.

I will also be posting pictures of my trip as I go, so anticipate those.

Please be praying for me for the following:
-safety
-low gas prices
-moderate temperatures
-amazing memories
-reconnecting with God
-renewal of life vision

Getting Ready

2008-05-27T10:34:00.000-07:00

I am putting together the details for my trip, and here's what the tentative itinerary looks like.

F 5/30: Drive to OC
Sa 5/31: Roadtrip Prep and VBA graduation
Su 6/1: Church and depart
M 6/2 - R 6/5: Drive
F 6/6 - Su 6/8: Visit Goertzens in Tacoma
Su 6/8 - T 6/10: Visit dad's side of the family in Seattle
W 6/11: Drive
R 6/12 - Su 6/15: Visit Amy in Spokane
M 6/16: Drive
T 6/17: Visit Petersons in Portland
W 6/18 - F 6/20: Drive
Sa 6/21: Jon & Kandi's Wedding in Fresno
Su 6/22: Fly to Chicago
M 6/23 - F 6/27: Annual Job Training
Sa 6/28 - Su 6/29: Tour Chicago (tentative)