Day 10 – Vancouver, WA
I ask the question, “What do you get when you leave Ventura?” I’ll provide the answer: “Rotten weather!” I normally don’t pay much attention to the weather, because in Ventura, it’s almost always perfect. But as soon as we get out of town, I am faced with what the rest of the world has to deal with, frequent bad weather.
Today was a good example. It must have rained a little last night, ‘cause the grass was really wet, and so was the pavement. Don and I got our walk in during a dry period, but the clouds made it dismal and not as much fun as a sunny day. Since today was a travel day, there were a lot of jobs to do to get ready to roll; the truck has to be hooked up for towing, slides brought in, utilities disconnected, and a bunch of other things. While Don was working on this stuff, Geri got a call from Aunt Dorothy, with the information that Don had left his coat at her house last night, and she wanted to arrange to get it back to us before we left. She came up with the idea to meet us at a Rest Stop on Highway 5 between Canyonville and Roseburg; it worked perfectly, and we got a chance to visit with her some more before heading north.
We trudged up Highway 5 in intermittent drizzle, making fairly good time until we hit the north end of Portland, where traffic bogged down until we crossed the bridge into Vancouver. We pulled into an older RV Park, a place we’ve never stayed before, and set up camp. Geri and Don had a simple dinner of red beans and rice, with some spicy sausage, and I got some decent plates out of it.
Blah day, nothing exciting, except seeing Aunt Dorothy again. Catch you tomorrow.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Monday, August 30, 2010
Day 9 – Canyonville, OR
A cloudy, rainy day here, not suitable for a great deal of outdoor activity. Don and I got a nice walk in during a break in the rain in the morning, and I loosened up my legs by doing some running. Don doesn’t yell at me when I run, unless I make a break for the open door of a trailer or motorhome, which I am sometimes inclined to do. I consider an open door to be an open invitation. But there weren’t any this morning, and I stayed out of trouble.
We piddled around the rig for the rest of the morning, Don working on something on the computer, Geri doing pickup around the coach. After lunch, we got into the truck and headed north up to Roseburg to get some groceries for a special dinner at Aunt Dorothy’s in Winston. Geri and Don collected the stuff they needed, and we sped over to Winston to start cooking. Cousin Joyce and Geri worked on cutting up tomatoes, Don sliced up an onion, and soon he was cooking up a batch of his famous Bolognese Sauce and some rigatoni. A salad, Italian sausage, and some great French bread completed the meal, which was well received by all.
After dinner, Geri and I went out to visit with Wendell, Aunt Dorothy’s goat, who loves to eat the leaves from a nearby grape vine. I thought that he was an interesting character, and he was friendly toward me, as long as he didn’t think I was going to get any of his grape leaves, which Geri was very liberal with. As the evening progressed, I observed that no one had thought to bring my normal 6:30 treat of Yummy Chummies with them, so I politely asked Don if we could go home and meet my dietary obligations. Well, the departure went very slowly, and by the time we got home, it was getting close to my 8:30 going-to-bed cookies time. But I got all of my needs fulfilled, including my treats hidden in a ball, which always take me at least four minutes to extract.
We’re on our way north tomorrow, and I don’t have any idea where we’re going to wind up tomorrow night. Stay tuned, I’ll do my best to keep you up to date!
Dinner at Dorothy's
The only one without a plate
Me and Wendell (I'm on the left)
Wendell getting treats
I think I'm glad I'm a dog
A cloudy, rainy day here, not suitable for a great deal of outdoor activity. Don and I got a nice walk in during a break in the rain in the morning, and I loosened up my legs by doing some running. Don doesn’t yell at me when I run, unless I make a break for the open door of a trailer or motorhome, which I am sometimes inclined to do. I consider an open door to be an open invitation. But there weren’t any this morning, and I stayed out of trouble.
We piddled around the rig for the rest of the morning, Don working on something on the computer, Geri doing pickup around the coach. After lunch, we got into the truck and headed north up to Roseburg to get some groceries for a special dinner at Aunt Dorothy’s in Winston. Geri and Don collected the stuff they needed, and we sped over to Winston to start cooking. Cousin Joyce and Geri worked on cutting up tomatoes, Don sliced up an onion, and soon he was cooking up a batch of his famous Bolognese Sauce and some rigatoni. A salad, Italian sausage, and some great French bread completed the meal, which was well received by all.
After dinner, Geri and I went out to visit with Wendell, Aunt Dorothy’s goat, who loves to eat the leaves from a nearby grape vine. I thought that he was an interesting character, and he was friendly toward me, as long as he didn’t think I was going to get any of his grape leaves, which Geri was very liberal with. As the evening progressed, I observed that no one had thought to bring my normal 6:30 treat of Yummy Chummies with them, so I politely asked Don if we could go home and meet my dietary obligations. Well, the departure went very slowly, and by the time we got home, it was getting close to my 8:30 going-to-bed cookies time. But I got all of my needs fulfilled, including my treats hidden in a ball, which always take me at least four minutes to extract.
We’re on our way north tomorrow, and I don’t have any idea where we’re going to wind up tomorrow night. Stay tuned, I’ll do my best to keep you up to date!
Dinner at Dorothy's
The only one without a plate
Me and Wendell (I'm on the left)
Wendell getting treats
I think I'm glad I'm a dog
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Day 8 - Canyonville, OR
Nothing worthy of reporting happened today, so I asked Don to fill the space by posting a bunch more pictures from yesterday that he was too tired to add to the blog last night. Here they are!
Me and Geri
Join the Army, ride a limo to Basic Training!
One of many commercial entries
A small part of the food for the Reunion
A well-mannered dog
A flock of Yokums
The food table
Miss Suds
Me and Geri and assorted Yokums
Aunt Helen at the Geneology Table
Nothing worthy of reporting happened today, so I asked Don to fill the space by posting a bunch more pictures from yesterday that he was too tired to add to the blog last night. Here they are!
 |
Here come the cheerleaders! |
Join the Army, ride a limo to Basic Training!
One of many commercial entries
A small part of the food for the Reunion
A well-mannered dog
A flock of Yokums
The food table
Miss Suds
Me and Geri and assorted Yokums
Aunt Helen at the Geneology Table
Friday, August 27, 2010
Day 6 – Canyonville, OR
It always seems to me that on days when we don’t have to get the rig ready to go and hit the road by checkout time, that things move a lot more slowly in this household. Don gets up later, I get my breakfast later, we go on our morning walk later, and so on. I know that I shouldn’t let it bother me, but I was Marine trained, and brought up to believe that the Squad does things when they’re supposed to do them. I thought that Don was Navy trained in the same manner, but I guess that’s worn off a little. I don’t think Geri was trained at all.
So, we got off to a slow start this morning, but our walk turned out OK. We met a very nice couple from Monterey who had lived with Goldies in the past, but had none now. I think they wanted to take me with them. They were very appreciative of my physique and my fine manners, and I got a lot of adulation from them. Nice way to start the day.
Then Don had telephone calls to make, including one to his friend in Alabama, Buddy, who has just purchased a very fine motorhome and was on his way to Atlanta to pick it up. I think Buddy has seen how much fun we have in ours, and wants to get in on the good times. We had our lunch, Geri took a nap, and Don and I went out to do some cleaning on the coach.
We had to do some shopping for stuff for the reunion tomorrow, but then we were able to take off for a little drive up into the hills to the east of town, heading over toward Crater Lake. This really is beautiful country, wooded hills, valleys full of ranches and farms, and a beautiful river (the Umpqua) running through it. I think Don was scouting the road as a possible route for the coach, but I wouldn’t swear to it. We stopped at a parking area next to the river, and Don got the camera out to take some pictures, finally. He was perturbed to find that the batteries were dead. No pics today. We joined a young couple who were picking wild blackberries, and counseled them on avoiding the smaller berries, who didn’t have the necessary sweetness needed for blackberry cobbler, which they were still regretting not getting last night.
When we got back to the coach, I got to meet Hank, the yellow Lab next door, who is four years younger and forty times more playful than I am. He’s about my size, and I have to admit I was a little intimidated, though I did my best not to show it. As a mark of my lack of fear, I peed on his lawn while giving him a big smile. He immediately sniffed out my irrigated spot, and covered it with his own deposit. He triumphantly sauntered off; I nonchalantly mozied over to the spot and rechristened it. He looked a little pouty, and I think he was out of ammunition. He seems to be a nice guy, but somebody has to show who’s Senior Dog Present.
After I got my dinner, they took off for the Casino for food and frolicking. I got a much needed nap, and they returned before too long. Both were in a good mood, having dined well and pried some winnings out of the Casino. Don and I worked on the blog, and we all went to bed fairly early. Tomorrow’s the big day, and I think we’ll be seeing some better morning action out of this Squad. I’m really looking forward to it, ‘cause I remember how much fun I had at the Reunion last year. It was a big day for me and, I think, everyone else who attended. Don promises to take lots of pics. We’ll have a full report for you tomorrow night!
It always seems to me that on days when we don’t have to get the rig ready to go and hit the road by checkout time, that things move a lot more slowly in this household. Don gets up later, I get my breakfast later, we go on our morning walk later, and so on. I know that I shouldn’t let it bother me, but I was Marine trained, and brought up to believe that the Squad does things when they’re supposed to do them. I thought that Don was Navy trained in the same manner, but I guess that’s worn off a little. I don’t think Geri was trained at all.
So, we got off to a slow start this morning, but our walk turned out OK. We met a very nice couple from Monterey who had lived with Goldies in the past, but had none now. I think they wanted to take me with them. They were very appreciative of my physique and my fine manners, and I got a lot of adulation from them. Nice way to start the day.
Then Don had telephone calls to make, including one to his friend in Alabama, Buddy, who has just purchased a very fine motorhome and was on his way to Atlanta to pick it up. I think Buddy has seen how much fun we have in ours, and wants to get in on the good times. We had our lunch, Geri took a nap, and Don and I went out to do some cleaning on the coach.
We had to do some shopping for stuff for the reunion tomorrow, but then we were able to take off for a little drive up into the hills to the east of town, heading over toward Crater Lake. This really is beautiful country, wooded hills, valleys full of ranches and farms, and a beautiful river (the Umpqua) running through it. I think Don was scouting the road as a possible route for the coach, but I wouldn’t swear to it. We stopped at a parking area next to the river, and Don got the camera out to take some pictures, finally. He was perturbed to find that the batteries were dead. No pics today. We joined a young couple who were picking wild blackberries, and counseled them on avoiding the smaller berries, who didn’t have the necessary sweetness needed for blackberry cobbler, which they were still regretting not getting last night.
When we got back to the coach, I got to meet Hank, the yellow Lab next door, who is four years younger and forty times more playful than I am. He’s about my size, and I have to admit I was a little intimidated, though I did my best not to show it. As a mark of my lack of fear, I peed on his lawn while giving him a big smile. He immediately sniffed out my irrigated spot, and covered it with his own deposit. He triumphantly sauntered off; I nonchalantly mozied over to the spot and rechristened it. He looked a little pouty, and I think he was out of ammunition. He seems to be a nice guy, but somebody has to show who’s Senior Dog Present.
After I got my dinner, they took off for the Casino for food and frolicking. I got a much needed nap, and they returned before too long. Both were in a good mood, having dined well and pried some winnings out of the Casino. Don and I worked on the blog, and we all went to bed fairly early. Tomorrow’s the big day, and I think we’ll be seeing some better morning action out of this Squad. I’m really looking forward to it, ‘cause I remember how much fun I had at the Reunion last year. It was a big day for me and, I think, everyone else who attended. Don promises to take lots of pics. We’ll have a full report for you tomorrow night!
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Day 5 – Canyonville, OR
I didn’t mention it yesterday, but there were some very nice dogs in the RV Park in Phoenix, and I met quite a few. My favorite was Annie, an eight year old Goldie, who immediately, upon being introduced to me, assumed a submissive pose and literally threw herself at my feet. I wagged appreciatively, and sat at attention so that her human lady would know that it was OK to give me any treats she might have. Unfortunately, she was treatless. But Annie was very demonstrative, and had lots of questions for me; yes, I am single, but, no, I don’t live here, just passing through, and no, I’m not that kind of guy.
Anyway, this morning Don took me for walk around the Park and down to Bear Creek, to see if I would like to go wading in the water. No, didn’t really feel like it. We had a few meet-ups with other dogs, nothing really consequential. We got back to the rig and started getting it ready to roll, and hit the road before noon. Again, the scenery was gorgeous, but I’d seen it all before, so I took a nice nap. I came back to the land of the living just as we were rolling into Seven Feathers RV Resort, which I was pleased to see, as I always have a good time here. Don got the coach set up for living, unhooked the truck, and we all took off for beautiful downtown Canyonville.
Well, a funny thing happened; we were in a parking area next to where the Pioneer Days festival was starting, and Don went to back up the truck to get us back on the road. But the truck wouldn’t go in reverse. Ominous sounds were coming from just below my private compartment, as Don kept manipulating various controls to try to get us backed up. He eventually succeeded in getting clear of the surrounding cars and turned around so that we could head for home. As it turned out, this was a continuation of a problem that arose yesterday, in Phoenix, while they were headed up Highway 5 to Medford. I wasn’t with them at the time, so I didn’t report on it, and it seems that Don had solved the problem by the strategic application of some electrical tape to the driveshaft disengagement control. Well, seems like the problem wasn’t solved. Don spent most the rest of the afternoon under the truck adjusting the control mechanism, but finally discovering that the bracket that supports the control handle was not properly fastened to the floor. Thirty seconds of tightening two screws, and the problem went away.
So, we were clear to head back to the Pioneer Days Festival, where Geri and Don always go to gorge on the blackberry cobbler and ice cream that the local PTA dishes out. We roamed around the grounds looking for the PTA stand, unsuccessfully. We finally found the lady who coordinates all of the vendor booths at the Festival, and she told them that the PTA had not sponsored the booth this year. They were somewhat crestfallen, but mollified themselves with an array of junk foods from other vendors, some of which I managed to get tastes of. I particularly liked the funnel cake with powdered sugar. I got loads of attention from the people at the Festival, a great deal of petting from cute young girls, but very little in the way of treats. I guess we can’t have everything.
The reunion is on Saturday, and I don’t have clue as to what’s on tap for tomorrow. Probably visits with nearby relatives, maybe some pointless but interesting touring. I’ll fill you in tomorrow night!
I didn’t mention it yesterday, but there were some very nice dogs in the RV Park in Phoenix, and I met quite a few. My favorite was Annie, an eight year old Goldie, who immediately, upon being introduced to me, assumed a submissive pose and literally threw herself at my feet. I wagged appreciatively, and sat at attention so that her human lady would know that it was OK to give me any treats she might have. Unfortunately, she was treatless. But Annie was very demonstrative, and had lots of questions for me; yes, I am single, but, no, I don’t live here, just passing through, and no, I’m not that kind of guy.
Anyway, this morning Don took me for walk around the Park and down to Bear Creek, to see if I would like to go wading in the water. No, didn’t really feel like it. We had a few meet-ups with other dogs, nothing really consequential. We got back to the rig and started getting it ready to roll, and hit the road before noon. Again, the scenery was gorgeous, but I’d seen it all before, so I took a nice nap. I came back to the land of the living just as we were rolling into Seven Feathers RV Resort, which I was pleased to see, as I always have a good time here. Don got the coach set up for living, unhooked the truck, and we all took off for beautiful downtown Canyonville.
Well, a funny thing happened; we were in a parking area next to where the Pioneer Days festival was starting, and Don went to back up the truck to get us back on the road. But the truck wouldn’t go in reverse. Ominous sounds were coming from just below my private compartment, as Don kept manipulating various controls to try to get us backed up. He eventually succeeded in getting clear of the surrounding cars and turned around so that we could head for home. As it turned out, this was a continuation of a problem that arose yesterday, in Phoenix, while they were headed up Highway 5 to Medford. I wasn’t with them at the time, so I didn’t report on it, and it seems that Don had solved the problem by the strategic application of some electrical tape to the driveshaft disengagement control. Well, seems like the problem wasn’t solved. Don spent most the rest of the afternoon under the truck adjusting the control mechanism, but finally discovering that the bracket that supports the control handle was not properly fastened to the floor. Thirty seconds of tightening two screws, and the problem went away.
So, we were clear to head back to the Pioneer Days Festival, where Geri and Don always go to gorge on the blackberry cobbler and ice cream that the local PTA dishes out. We roamed around the grounds looking for the PTA stand, unsuccessfully. We finally found the lady who coordinates all of the vendor booths at the Festival, and she told them that the PTA had not sponsored the booth this year. They were somewhat crestfallen, but mollified themselves with an array of junk foods from other vendors, some of which I managed to get tastes of. I particularly liked the funnel cake with powdered sugar. I got loads of attention from the people at the Festival, a great deal of petting from cute young girls, but very little in the way of treats. I guess we can’t have everything.
The reunion is on Saturday, and I don’t have clue as to what’s on tap for tomorrow. Probably visits with nearby relatives, maybe some pointless but interesting touring. I’ll fill you in tomorrow night!
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Day 4 – Phoenix, OR
This RV Park would be a nice place to hang out if it weren’t for the heat. By the time Don and I got out and around, it was already so hot that I was looking for shade everywhere we went. Don said that we were going to land in the coolest spot in southern Oregon this afternoon, but that doesn’t sound like a guarantee of cool weather. While we were on our walk, we came across a couple of pigeons pecking at something in the grass, and I felt the need to put the fear of Dog into them, so I did about a ten yard charge. They scattered, I wilted. I just kind of slogged through the rest of the walk. When it came time to get the rig ready to roll, which I usually help with, I pretended that I didn’t know how to get over on the side that Don was on by creeping under the tow bar. As I expected, Don disgustedly ordered me back into the coach, where it was nice and cool. And he called me a dummy!
Heading north, the scenery around Mount Shasta was great, as it always is, so I took a nap in front of the air conditioner. I knew that Don was fighting some rough grades and truck traffic, ‘cause I could hear him muttering some things I don’t think I should repeat. So I just stayed quiet and out of the way until we reached our destination. I did hear an exchange between Geri and Don when she told him that she had made a reservation for us at an RV Park in Phoenix; Don said something about being happy to support Governor Brewer, but this was ridiculous. He had forgotten that Phoenix is a small town just south of Medford; sheesh, I knew that!
We got into the Park, signed up for a night, and Don got the rig set up in the coolest 100 degree spot in southern Oregon. There wasn’t much I could do to help him, so I stayed in the coach. They had some shopping to do, so I was left to nap peacefully in the air conditioning while they went out to forage. When they returned, they immediately started cooking the artichokes they had bought in Moss Landing, which turned into a time-consuming affair. Worse, it turned into a no-plates-for-DeeBee affair. Geri took pity on me and slopped some leftover rice onto a plate for me, but it’s not really the same sharing feeling that I usually get.
Tomorrow we arrive at our primary destination, Canyonville, and check into the Seven Feathers RV Resort, one of the best RV Parks in the country. The weather report shows a sharp drop in temperature forecast for tomorrow, so things are looking up. We are looking forward to meeting and greeting our family members, and I know we’re all going to have a great time there.
Special note to Geri: Thanks loads for preparing a new phony paper for my morning delivery. That old one was so tattered that I was embarrassed to deliver it.
Special note to friends who are complaining about lack of photos: My photographer says that there haven’t been any proper locations for photos of any real import, and particularly none that show my newly-revealed physique properly. He assures me they will be coming soon.
Catch you tomorrow!
This RV Park would be a nice place to hang out if it weren’t for the heat. By the time Don and I got out and around, it was already so hot that I was looking for shade everywhere we went. Don said that we were going to land in the coolest spot in southern Oregon this afternoon, but that doesn’t sound like a guarantee of cool weather. While we were on our walk, we came across a couple of pigeons pecking at something in the grass, and I felt the need to put the fear of Dog into them, so I did about a ten yard charge. They scattered, I wilted. I just kind of slogged through the rest of the walk. When it came time to get the rig ready to roll, which I usually help with, I pretended that I didn’t know how to get over on the side that Don was on by creeping under the tow bar. As I expected, Don disgustedly ordered me back into the coach, where it was nice and cool. And he called me a dummy!
Heading north, the scenery around Mount Shasta was great, as it always is, so I took a nap in front of the air conditioner. I knew that Don was fighting some rough grades and truck traffic, ‘cause I could hear him muttering some things I don’t think I should repeat. So I just stayed quiet and out of the way until we reached our destination. I did hear an exchange between Geri and Don when she told him that she had made a reservation for us at an RV Park in Phoenix; Don said something about being happy to support Governor Brewer, but this was ridiculous. He had forgotten that Phoenix is a small town just south of Medford; sheesh, I knew that!
We got into the Park, signed up for a night, and Don got the rig set up in the coolest 100 degree spot in southern Oregon. There wasn’t much I could do to help him, so I stayed in the coach. They had some shopping to do, so I was left to nap peacefully in the air conditioning while they went out to forage. When they returned, they immediately started cooking the artichokes they had bought in Moss Landing, which turned into a time-consuming affair. Worse, it turned into a no-plates-for-DeeBee affair. Geri took pity on me and slopped some leftover rice onto a plate for me, but it’s not really the same sharing feeling that I usually get.
Tomorrow we arrive at our primary destination, Canyonville, and check into the Seven Feathers RV Resort, one of the best RV Parks in the country. The weather report shows a sharp drop in temperature forecast for tomorrow, so things are looking up. We are looking forward to meeting and greeting our family members, and I know we’re all going to have a great time there.
Special note to Geri: Thanks loads for preparing a new phony paper for my morning delivery. That old one was so tattered that I was embarrassed to deliver it.
Special note to friends who are complaining about lack of photos: My photographer says that there haven’t been any proper locations for photos of any real import, and particularly none that show my newly-revealed physique properly. He assures me they will be coming soon.
Catch you tomorrow!
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Day 3 – Redding, CA
This might be a tough blog entry to do today. Don is distracted by election returns, and I’m a little overheated by the weather, so I may not be making as much sense as I usually do. The heat is a real consideration; even though my “puppy cut” relieved me of much of my once-generous coat, I’m still very sensitive to high temperatures. So please excuse any lapses in the usual soaring qualities of my writing today.
My walk with Don this morning was second rate, to say the least. He took me to a clearing in the brush next to the river, where the locals had started a farm of sorts, growing corn, cabbage, and other veggies which have little appeal to me. He told me that I was not allowed to irrigate them, too. I just poked around, trying to find something to interest me, but without good results. It’s just as well that we went back to the rig fairly soon. Don had his own share of bad luck when the drive shaft disengagement mechanism on the truck failed to disengage while he was hooking up for towing. He had to get his grungies on, get under the truck, and do some adjustments on the controls. So, we didn’t get out of Betabel until about eleven, and we had to make a stop in Gilroy for fuel. We were finally on the road over Pacheco Pass to catch Highway 5 about 11:30.
The main thing you can say about Highway 5 in the southern part of the Valley is that it’s terminally dull. Geri went to the bedroom for a nap, I laid down in front of the air conditioning and crapped out, and Don was left to his own devices of piloting us through tedious territory. Fortunately, Geri had seen fit to provide me with my lunch while we were in Gilroy, so I didn’t miss a meal. When Geri and I rejoined the land of the living, we were in greener territory. Don wouldn’t tell us where we were, but a sign provided the information that Sacramento was 20 miles up the road. We both wondered if Don was going to pull a fast one on us and proclaim Sacramento as our end point of the day, but he kept on going.
The day was getting hotter and hotter, and the dash air conditioner wasn’t doing much good for us. We found a rest area, and Don pulled off to stretch his appendages. He also started the rig’s generator, and fired up the two air conditioning units. By the time I had finished my dalliance with the family of a handsome Bernease, we returned to a coach that was cooling down nicely. Thanks, Don! Geri and Don determined that Redding would be our stop for the evening, and that we would head for the RV Park that we had stayed in several times previously, but couldn’t remember the name of. Geri looked through our collection of RV Park brochures, and found several from Redding. They agreed that most likely the one they wanted was the Premier, but there appeared to be two Premiers in Redding. It all got sorted out, we found the place OK, and got placed in one of their new “super sites”, which are made to order for rigs like ours.
Our evening was spent cooling down from the heat of the day, desultory dining on scraps, and half-hearted blogging. We hope to be heading for cooler climes tomorrow. I will let you know how it works out. Ciao, baby!
This might be a tough blog entry to do today. Don is distracted by election returns, and I’m a little overheated by the weather, so I may not be making as much sense as I usually do. The heat is a real consideration; even though my “puppy cut” relieved me of much of my once-generous coat, I’m still very sensitive to high temperatures. So please excuse any lapses in the usual soaring qualities of my writing today.
My walk with Don this morning was second rate, to say the least. He took me to a clearing in the brush next to the river, where the locals had started a farm of sorts, growing corn, cabbage, and other veggies which have little appeal to me. He told me that I was not allowed to irrigate them, too. I just poked around, trying to find something to interest me, but without good results. It’s just as well that we went back to the rig fairly soon. Don had his own share of bad luck when the drive shaft disengagement mechanism on the truck failed to disengage while he was hooking up for towing. He had to get his grungies on, get under the truck, and do some adjustments on the controls. So, we didn’t get out of Betabel until about eleven, and we had to make a stop in Gilroy for fuel. We were finally on the road over Pacheco Pass to catch Highway 5 about 11:30.
The main thing you can say about Highway 5 in the southern part of the Valley is that it’s terminally dull. Geri went to the bedroom for a nap, I laid down in front of the air conditioning and crapped out, and Don was left to his own devices of piloting us through tedious territory. Fortunately, Geri had seen fit to provide me with my lunch while we were in Gilroy, so I didn’t miss a meal. When Geri and I rejoined the land of the living, we were in greener territory. Don wouldn’t tell us where we were, but a sign provided the information that Sacramento was 20 miles up the road. We both wondered if Don was going to pull a fast one on us and proclaim Sacramento as our end point of the day, but he kept on going.
The day was getting hotter and hotter, and the dash air conditioner wasn’t doing much good for us. We found a rest area, and Don pulled off to stretch his appendages. He also started the rig’s generator, and fired up the two air conditioning units. By the time I had finished my dalliance with the family of a handsome Bernease, we returned to a coach that was cooling down nicely. Thanks, Don! Geri and Don determined that Redding would be our stop for the evening, and that we would head for the RV Park that we had stayed in several times previously, but couldn’t remember the name of. Geri looked through our collection of RV Park brochures, and found several from Redding. They agreed that most likely the one they wanted was the Premier, but there appeared to be two Premiers in Redding. It all got sorted out, we found the place OK, and got placed in one of their new “super sites”, which are made to order for rigs like ours.
Our evening was spent cooling down from the heat of the day, desultory dining on scraps, and half-hearted blogging. We hope to be heading for cooler climes tomorrow. I will let you know how it works out. Ciao, baby!
Monday, August 23, 2010
Day 2 – San Juan Bautista
Please note the spelling change of the town we’re closest to. As we were driving into town this morning, I noticed the name on the City’s signboard, and grumped to Don about our error. He agreed to correct it, so all is well. It’s not like we haven’t been here many times before, and weren’t familiar with the spelling, it’s probably just that after a long day and many miles, “mistakes are made.”
We love this little town, it’s as close as you can find to an early California Mission village, and it’s very dog friendly. The main street is filled with buildings from the 19th century, and the Mission itself is a noble piece of architecture. Don likes the grassy plaza area in front of the Mission and the stable on the far side, mostly because they have a big part in his favorite movie, Hitchcock’s Vertigo. We noticed that there is even a Vertigo coffee house in town now, it wasn’t here during our last visit. We were going to visit Fremont Peak State Park, which is on a hilltop overlooking San Juan, but found out on the web that it was closed today. It’s where General Fremont first flew the American Flag over California territory during a battle with the local Mexican militia. We’ll have to plan our next visit better.
We headed on over to Hollister, a much larger and much more modern town than San Juan (1920’s vs. 1880’s), and a place that Geri and Don hadn’t visited since before I was born. Don told me about that trip; he wanted to make it from San Francisco to Ventura without travelling on any major highways, like the 5 or the 101, or even the 1! They endured unpaved corduroy roads and recalcitrant cattle blocking their passage until they finally gave up in Santa Margherita. They had spent the night in Hollister, and today Don pointed out a restaurant and asked Geri if she remembered the great steak dinner we had there. Geri responded negatively, she remembered dinner in Hollister, but that wasn’t the place. I got a little tense, expecting a battle, but it blew over quickly. Don has a particular affection for Hollister, ‘cause he attended a motorcycle weekend here with his Father when he was nine years old. Hollywood made a movie about that weekend, called “The Wild Ones”, with a guy named Marlon Brando. Don says he doesn’t remember engaging in most of the activity shown in the movie.
After a stop at home base, we headed over to the coast. I was reluctant to go with them, due to the heat. But they made sure I had lots of breeze blowing through my private compartment, and as we neared the coast, it cooled down a lot. We went to several State Parks at the beach to try to find a place where I could accompany them on a beach walk, but none of them were dog friendly. Don remembered a beach down at Moss Landing that we had visited a couple of years ago, and we headed down there. We got a good parking place, and headed for the ocean. When Don and I reached the surf, I looked at him and sent a very clear message: I’m not going in the water! He knows I’m not a typical Goldie, and certainly not a bit like old Buddy, who would surf until he collapsed from exhaustion. Yeah, I got my paws wet, and it felt good, and I found a very sweet looking young lady who admired my good looks and let me sit on her foot. But when I got back to the truck, I was still bone dry. Don was muttering about going to all this trouble to get me some beach time and winding up with a canine Gidget who won’t get in the water, but I can only say that I appreciated the trouble he went to, and I had a very nice time with the little lady.
We headed back to Betabel after a stop at a produce stand in Moss Landing to buy some artichokes, which aren’t part of my diet. Don produced a splendid pasta dinner with his own homemade meat sauce, which I love. Great plates! Geri and I went for a very pleasant walk after the temperature went down a bit, and then I worked with Don on the blog. And so to bed; long and eventful day! We travel tomorrow, don’t know where to, but I’ll be sure to let you know.
Please note the spelling change of the town we’re closest to. As we were driving into town this morning, I noticed the name on the City’s signboard, and grumped to Don about our error. He agreed to correct it, so all is well. It’s not like we haven’t been here many times before, and weren’t familiar with the spelling, it’s probably just that after a long day and many miles, “mistakes are made.”
We love this little town, it’s as close as you can find to an early California Mission village, and it’s very dog friendly. The main street is filled with buildings from the 19th century, and the Mission itself is a noble piece of architecture. Don likes the grassy plaza area in front of the Mission and the stable on the far side, mostly because they have a big part in his favorite movie, Hitchcock’s Vertigo. We noticed that there is even a Vertigo coffee house in town now, it wasn’t here during our last visit. We were going to visit Fremont Peak State Park, which is on a hilltop overlooking San Juan, but found out on the web that it was closed today. It’s where General Fremont first flew the American Flag over California territory during a battle with the local Mexican militia. We’ll have to plan our next visit better.
We headed on over to Hollister, a much larger and much more modern town than San Juan (1920’s vs. 1880’s), and a place that Geri and Don hadn’t visited since before I was born. Don told me about that trip; he wanted to make it from San Francisco to Ventura without travelling on any major highways, like the 5 or the 101, or even the 1! They endured unpaved corduroy roads and recalcitrant cattle blocking their passage until they finally gave up in Santa Margherita. They had spent the night in Hollister, and today Don pointed out a restaurant and asked Geri if she remembered the great steak dinner we had there. Geri responded negatively, she remembered dinner in Hollister, but that wasn’t the place. I got a little tense, expecting a battle, but it blew over quickly. Don has a particular affection for Hollister, ‘cause he attended a motorcycle weekend here with his Father when he was nine years old. Hollywood made a movie about that weekend, called “The Wild Ones”, with a guy named Marlon Brando. Don says he doesn’t remember engaging in most of the activity shown in the movie.
After a stop at home base, we headed over to the coast. I was reluctant to go with them, due to the heat. But they made sure I had lots of breeze blowing through my private compartment, and as we neared the coast, it cooled down a lot. We went to several State Parks at the beach to try to find a place where I could accompany them on a beach walk, but none of them were dog friendly. Don remembered a beach down at Moss Landing that we had visited a couple of years ago, and we headed down there. We got a good parking place, and headed for the ocean. When Don and I reached the surf, I looked at him and sent a very clear message: I’m not going in the water! He knows I’m not a typical Goldie, and certainly not a bit like old Buddy, who would surf until he collapsed from exhaustion. Yeah, I got my paws wet, and it felt good, and I found a very sweet looking young lady who admired my good looks and let me sit on her foot. But when I got back to the truck, I was still bone dry. Don was muttering about going to all this trouble to get me some beach time and winding up with a canine Gidget who won’t get in the water, but I can only say that I appreciated the trouble he went to, and I had a very nice time with the little lady.
We headed back to Betabel after a stop at a produce stand in Moss Landing to buy some artichokes, which aren’t part of my diet. Don produced a splendid pasta dinner with his own homemade meat sauce, which I love. Great plates! Geri and I went for a very pleasant walk after the temperature went down a bit, and then I worked with Don on the blog. And so to bed; long and eventful day! We travel tomorrow, don’t know where to, but I’ll be sure to let you know.
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Day 1 - San Juan Batista, CA
Hi, all my friends! Your faithful travel reporter is back at work, keeping you up to date on the meanderings of me and my resident humans, Geri and Don! As you might suspect, we’ve hit the road again, this time for our annual trek northward to take part in the Yokum Family Reunion in Canyonville, Oregon, a visit with my early mentor, Gary, and excursions to who knows where else. We’re planning a month-and-a-half, more or less.
I sat in on the planning for this excursion, and must say that I found it amusing. The one thing that Don was adamant about was that we would not be leaving two days before the reunion, like we did last year. Geri wanted to be sure that we would pick a route that would avoid any really hot weather. So Don says that he wants to spend some time in Sacramento on the way up (temp. 100 degrees plus). Minor altercation ensuing. Don retreats, temporarily. So, comes day before departure; Geri says, “Where will we be tomorrow night?” Don comes back, “Figured on Patterson, where we went last year.” Patterson is in the Great Central Valley, on Highway 5, south of Sacramento. Geri responds with an edict: find the lowest temperature spot on a route north to spend the first night. Don dutifully researches the weather forecasts, determines San Benito county to be cooler than Patterson. So, this morning we headed north on Highway 101 to wind up at one of our favorite RV parks, the Betabel, next door to San Juan Batista.
As we were leaving Ventura this morning, after saying goodbyes to Maggie, who is taking care of my Aussie friends Alice and Cooper, and Debby the Temptress across the street, we fell in behind a newer Monaco Windsor motorhome that Don admired. They were travelling at about the same speed that Don likes, so we continued behind them until they turned off the 101 at Atascadero. As we pulled up the Cuesta Grade just beyond San Luis Obispo, it became obvious what Don was really up to; he wanted to see just how good our older Diplomat was at climbing grades in comparison to a newer, more powerful motorhome. We kept pace with the Windsor all the way up, and Don’s chortling was insufferable. Geri and I were both glad when the Windsor pulled off; next thing would be a top speed contest.
As a point of personal pride, I want to let you know that the photo that heads this page is obsolete; Don intends to replace it with a new one of me in my new fur configuration, popularly known as a “puppy-cut”. I like it a lot, as it keeps me a lot cooler in hot weather, and I think it makes me look a lot younger. I’ve gotten a lot of compliments on it, and I’m sure you’ll want to see it modeled properly. We’ll get a new picture posted as soon as possible.
I want to thank all of you for joining us on this excursion; I’ll try really hard to keep you fully informed, and occasionally entertained. That’s my job as Travelblogdog!
Hi, all my friends! Your faithful travel reporter is back at work, keeping you up to date on the meanderings of me and my resident humans, Geri and Don! As you might suspect, we’ve hit the road again, this time for our annual trek northward to take part in the Yokum Family Reunion in Canyonville, Oregon, a visit with my early mentor, Gary, and excursions to who knows where else. We’re planning a month-and-a-half, more or less.
I sat in on the planning for this excursion, and must say that I found it amusing. The one thing that Don was adamant about was that we would not be leaving two days before the reunion, like we did last year. Geri wanted to be sure that we would pick a route that would avoid any really hot weather. So Don says that he wants to spend some time in Sacramento on the way up (temp. 100 degrees plus). Minor altercation ensuing. Don retreats, temporarily. So, comes day before departure; Geri says, “Where will we be tomorrow night?” Don comes back, “Figured on Patterson, where we went last year.” Patterson is in the Great Central Valley, on Highway 5, south of Sacramento. Geri responds with an edict: find the lowest temperature spot on a route north to spend the first night. Don dutifully researches the weather forecasts, determines San Benito county to be cooler than Patterson. So, this morning we headed north on Highway 101 to wind up at one of our favorite RV parks, the Betabel, next door to San Juan Batista.
As we were leaving Ventura this morning, after saying goodbyes to Maggie, who is taking care of my Aussie friends Alice and Cooper, and Debby the Temptress across the street, we fell in behind a newer Monaco Windsor motorhome that Don admired. They were travelling at about the same speed that Don likes, so we continued behind them until they turned off the 101 at Atascadero. As we pulled up the Cuesta Grade just beyond San Luis Obispo, it became obvious what Don was really up to; he wanted to see just how good our older Diplomat was at climbing grades in comparison to a newer, more powerful motorhome. We kept pace with the Windsor all the way up, and Don’s chortling was insufferable. Geri and I were both glad when the Windsor pulled off; next thing would be a top speed contest.
As a point of personal pride, I want to let you know that the photo that heads this page is obsolete; Don intends to replace it with a new one of me in my new fur configuration, popularly known as a “puppy-cut”. I like it a lot, as it keeps me a lot cooler in hot weather, and I think it makes me look a lot younger. I’ve gotten a lot of compliments on it, and I’m sure you’ll want to see it modeled properly. We’ll get a new picture posted as soon as possible.
I want to thank all of you for joining us on this excursion; I’ll try really hard to keep you fully informed, and occasionally entertained. That’s my job as Travelblogdog!
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