On The Oregon Trail - Part III (Finally)

I've been getting some flak about not finishing my Oregon Trail Tale. Bud thinks I made a wrong turn back there in Utah and ended up snowed in in a pass in the Sierras with the Donner Party.
Friday morning found us in Oregon. Ah, Oregon....

If your image of Oregon is wet and green, you're forgetting that the eastern side of the state is much drier with more extremes in temperatures. I'm wondering about wandering that little trail in the middle of this photo just to see where it goes.

Along the Snake River - part of Oregon's Treasure Valley.

Another view of the Snake with some white birds in the foreground.

Blue skies, white puffy clouds and a lone pine. Driving through this area I could see a tall building in the distance at the exit for Historic Downtown Baker City.

Our itinerary didn't allow time for investigating the area so it went on the list to look up when I got home. This is The Baker City Tower an Art Deco building built in 1929 as a hotel. At first I thought this was probably the hotel and spa I had noticed a sign for.

But no, that would be this one - The Geiser Grand Hotel and Spa. If you look at pictures of this hotel online you will see what a gorgeous building this is. I wouldn't mind staying here a few days, touring the area and enjoying a spa treatment or two. Built in the Italianate Victorian style in 1889, the hotel is said to possibly be haunted.

A lunch stop in Pendleton, OR gave me a chance to take more pictures of these life-like cattle drive statues. The first time I saw them a few years ago I thought they were real! Pendleton celebrates with an annual Round-Up each September.

The mighty Columbia River. On schedule to be in Portland by early evening. A pit-stop and driver change in The Dalles resulted in one of our more interesting Oregon Trail stories. I suggested making the stop at a McDonald's with an ulterior motive - I wanted an ice cream cone. When we got out of the car I could hear someone's car CD player blasting out a tune. At first all I noticed was the beat. Then as we got closer I started hearing the voice and the words. Bud hadn't picked up on it yet - "Bud! Bud! That's Mark! It's Mark! I had stopped next to the car when Bud turned and walked back. He bent down to the window and pointed to his shirt.

The guy in the car gave him a thumbs up and then turned down the volume so he could talk to us. He said "You're a fan, too?" Bud said "well, actually he's my son." Mark's fan could hardly believe us. He kept saying "Really? You're kidding! Really?" Finally he asked me if Bud was telling the truth. (Obviously I look more honest than Bud.) We finally convinced him we were telling the truth. He seemed so star-struck that I kiddingly I asked him if he wanted to shake the hand of Mark's Dad. Which he did. He went on telling us how much he loved Mark's music and how excited he was that he and his girlfriend were going to be seeing him in person for the first time which was also when they were getting married. (We should have told him Mark is licensed to perform weddings but didn't think of it in time.)
We finally went on in to the restaurant. Bud was ahead of me on the way back out. By then the guy's girlfriend was back in the car. He was pointing at Bud and saying, "There he is. That's him!" So we met the girlfriend, too. This chance encounter with some of Mark's fans was so much fun - gave us a taste of the adulation performers must feel.
Another hour and half and we're finally in the City of Roses.

Our reason for the trip - to see Kari & Ken and their new home. The area of Portland where they now live is known as Roseway. Roseway in the City of Roses? Hmm, I wonder if they call their home Rose Cottage?

On The Oregon Trail - Part II

Day one saw us leaving Iowa, crossing Nebraska and then Wyoming. About a half hour after a gas and lunch stop in Evanston, WY, we reached the 'real' Oregon Trail - the Y where I-80 splits and goes South toward Salt Lake City and I-84 turns North toward Idaho and west into Oregon.
The second day was also the longest. Six hundred miles would get us to Twin Falls, ID, but when looking ahead for a hotel, I wasn't too keen on any of the ones there. By going a little further down the road to Jerome, ID, I found the Best Western Sawtooth Inn and Suites. The online pictures looked good. The reviews were good. The price was right. It was booked.

The difference in price between this hotel and the 'bargain' one of the night before was around ten dollars. The difference in the hotels was like night and day. This is a picture I took of the lobby. The hotel staff was truly welcoming - friendly, helpful, professional. The room was clean, comfortable and attractive. The pool and hot tub, perfect after a long two days of driving.

This is a photo of the gorgeous live edge slab comprising the reception desk. It was so pretty. I should have taken the picture from a different angle to show it off properly.

And I love hotels that have the free libraries. Some operate on a take and leave policy - you take a book you haven't read and leave one you've finished while traveling. This is the most extensive travel library I've seen - they even had magazines and books for children.
If you are traveling to or through Idaho I highly recommend this hotel - The Best Western Sawtooth Inn and Suites in Jerome - as an overnight (or longer) stay. The only regret I have about staying here is that I didn't see the made-to-order omelets at the free breakfast the next morning until after I had already filled my plate with other selections. If we hadn't taken a different route home I would have booked another stay here.

Oh, yes, Sally's thrown shoe - I had noticed a noise coming from the left front wheel area of the car during my afternoon driving stint. Bud thought it was just the plastic undercarriage cover protecting the engine compartment. He had wired it up when it came loose once before. He tried fixing it again but when we made a quick trip to the Walmart just down the street the noise was even worse. Wish I had taken pictures of this - but - while I went into the store, my "he can fix anything" husband took the wheel off Sally and determined it was the brake pad making the noise. He applied some wheel grease (?) which did help for many miles before it started making noise again the next day. End of story: Sally got a brake job while we were at Kari's in Portland.
I'm sure the pioneers would have merely fashioned a new shoe for their trusty steed.

On The Oregon Trail - Part I

Two weeks ago after watching granddaughter, Dominique*, run her last cross-country meet here in town, we set off for Oregon to see daughter Kari and son-in-law Ken in their new home in Portland. To quote Jerry Reed in 'East Bound and Down' from Smokey & The Bandit, "We've got a long way to go and a short time to get there!" As navigator and chief planner, I broke the roughly 1800 miles into three days of 600 miles each and started booking overnight stops.
The first of which was Cheyenne, Wyoming. It takes us a day or two to get our 'traveling legs' under us. At the end of that first day all we wanted was a bed and a good night's sleep. Packed up and back on I-80 early the next morning, the first thing I noted of interest was an old one room country school with what looked like a dome setting in the school yard. There was no signage so, like with many more such unknown sites along the route, I made a note to see if I could find information about it when we got home.

TGFTI - "Thank goodness for the internet." And thanks to 'Stefanie' and 'Roadside America', I learned that the dome I saw was actually the cupola from the 1917 Cheyenne Capitol dome. The granite school dates from 1892. This site is on the south side of I-80 about 20 miles west of Cheyenne.

Further along between Cheyenne and Laramie - about 10 miles east of Laramie is this giant Lincoln statue at the Summit Rest Stop. Sculpted by Robert Russin in 1959 to commemorate Lincoln's 150th birthday, it was moved to the rest stop after the interstate was built to mark the highest point on the Lincoln Highway (Hwy 30).

For me, the most intriguing unknown site about another 30 miles down the road - just east of the Carbon County, WY line,  was this obvious grave site:

Another one to make note of and look up when I got home. TGFTI again. It is the grave of Clement S. Bengough, a titled Englishman who traded his life in a castle for a ranch in Wyoming.
After seeing this large marker I could not help but think of all the hundreds, if not thousands, of unmarked graves along the Oregon Trail. I also thought of how we were zipping along at 80 mph covering in one hour what probably took the pioneers eight to ten days to travel.

We saw a number of antelope on the plains of western Wyoming. I kept trying to get a picture of some and missed a really good shot with antelope, cows and horses all together. I do have one picture in which I 'think' there is an antelope but it could be a rock. At least I can for certain identify the animals in this photo:

The end of day two saw us in Jerome, Idaho where our trusted steed, Sally, 'threw a shoe'. More about that tomorrow.

(*Instead of using one of the photos I took of Dominique at the cross-country meet, I opted to use one of her senior pictures in her x-c uniform. It shows what a beautiful young woman she is.)

Map Nostalgia

When my daughter Kari visited us last summer she got me hooked on working a daily jigsaw puzzle. I had already been doing a daily crossword puzzle thanks to my younger brother Les; adding a jigsaw puzzle to the morning routine seemed a natural extension. Besides, I have always loved working jigsaw puzzles. I just don't like them taking up space on the dining table until I get that last piece put in. Doing them on the computer is so much faster. I can do several a day if I want.
This map of France was one of the puzzles online this morning. It wasn't the puzzle of the day, - that one was a cartoon-like "Eat Healthy" puzzle. So I chose to work this one instead.

As soon as I saw it I had a visceral reaction - the colors, the print fonts, the little depictions of various cities. Once I got the puzzle completed I tried to figure out why it spoke to me so. Then I saw the photo credit: American Geographical Society, Around the World Program. And when I googled that all these vintage booklets showed up on ebay and amazon - even on etsy. "Ah-ha!", I thought. "We must have had these in grade school." However, the "exciting new way to become acquainted with the many lands and peoples of our wonderful world" didn't become a reality until February, 1957. So my nostalgic feelings didn't come from my grade school years - I graduated from 8th grade in May of '57.

Those sentimental yearnings upon seeing the map of France puzzle could have been related to the hundreds of times I put together a similar United States puzzle when I was young. I remember Grandma & Grandpa Ridnour having this puzzle which is where I began learning my states and capitals before we had our own puzzle just like it. Perhaps that early introduction to maps accounts for my love of them.

Neither of our vehicles is equipped with a GPS navigational system. Even if they were, I would not rely on them. When I travel I use an official state highway map - the paper kind. We also travel with a current Atlas just in case a state map isn't available - or if we want to see the big picture.
Not only do maps show the highways, they provide a multitude of other information - mileage charts, state parks and attractions, emergency phone numbers, locations of welcome centers and insets of larger cities - to name a few.

They even become memorabilia. This map of Kentucky is from our first 'big' vacation - back when the only way we could afford to travel was to tent camp. And even though we have newer maps obtained on later trips to or through Kentucky (including this past spring), this map brings back some wonderful memories.

Almost always, upon entering a different state, our first stop will be at a welcome center. Even if we have a map of that state in the car, we will get a new one. In a couple of days we will be leaving on another cross country road trip to Oregon to see Kari and Ken. We'll be there in time to help celebrate their new home at their open house. Along the way I'll feed my esurient passion for maps.

Freedom Is Just Another Word For Nothing Left To Lose

This was going to be a post about my time on Nantucket when I found this picture last week because it was taken there thirty-nine years ago today - September 7, 1975. I vaguely remembered already blogging about that trip but figured I could find something new to say about it. You can find the original post, That Old Cape Magic, here.

Instead, the obituaries in today's Des Moines Sunday Register brought to mind different memories from that time in 1975.

In August that year I had interviewed for a new job. I had become disenchanted with my position as Director of Public Relations and Alumni Affairs at the Des Moines Osteopathic College. So when the owners of Charlie's Showplace, Larry and Mariam McKeever offered me the position as office manager at their recording studio, Lariam House, I gratefully changed jobs. It was one of my all time favorite places of employment.
Office manager suggests I may have had several underlings to direct; in reality it was pretty much a one-woman office, which was always my preference in jobs. The management had more to do with scheduling recording sessions and talent for commercials as well as seeing to it that reel-to-reel and cassette tapes got dubbed and into the mail on time.

Besides Larry and myself there was one other full time employee - Gary Engard. It was his obituary I read in today's Register. He died at his home in Seattle August 12. He was 76 years old. Funny, I might have said he was younger than me. I always thought he had such a child-like, younger brother, air about him, even though I'm sure I knew he was a bit older.
There will be an open house celebration of his life in Des Moines next Sunday. My immediate reaction to reading that was to make plans to go. But I doubt if there would be anyone there I still know; Larry and Mariam are both deceased and I didn't know Gary's family, only that they lived in Urbandale. I didn't even know his wife was from Des Moines until I read his obit. I assumed he met her after he moved to Seattle.

I learned more about Gary from his obituary than I knew about him from working with him for three years. He wasn't exactly shy he just didn't talk about himself much. Except for his years as a bush pilot in Alaska - I did hear stories about those experiences. And I'll never forget him wearing his mukluks into the office when it was cold and snowy. He told us an Eskimo woman had made them for him.

 

His were the real deal and he was proud of them.

I did know that he had been a floor director at KRNT (now KCCI) when it was a new TV station. I did not know he and a partner had started the Alaska Television Network. His career in Seattle seems to have followed along the lines of broadcast engineering.

Things I do remember about Gary besides his boyish demeanor - he was always willing to take on any task Larry asked of him even when he doubted his own abilities to fulfill said tasks. He worked nights, weekends, early mornings, whatever it took.
He smoked a pipe.

He bought a new Datsun B210 Hatchback which was not considered a very sexy car at that time. That didn't bother him. He happily bragged about its excellent gas mileage.

He was a friend when you needed one.

I never saw Gary again after I moved back home to SW Iowa in May of '78. I heard that he had moved to Seattle and wondered, "Why there? Why not back to the Alaska he loved so much?"

One other memory I have was of his favorite song - Janis Joplin's rendition of Kris Kristofferson's Me and Bobby McGee. I suppose I had heard the song before but Gary is the one I will always associate with it. We even had a discussion about that line, Freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose. 

This is my celebration of your life, Gary Engard. May you rest in peace.

I'm In A Renaissance Faire State Of Mind

"I know what I'm needin' and I don't want to waste more time..." Billy Joel sang about his New York State of Mind. Well, with some of my kids going to different Renaissance Faires today, I'm in a Renaissance Faire memories state of mind. (Kari & Ken are attending the "Pirate Invasion Weekend at the Oregon Renaissance Festival of Hillsboro while Doug and Shelly will be at the Des Moines Renaissance Faire at Sleepy Hollow. I'm so jealous. But since I won't be going in real time, I'll attend by visiting memories of past faires.....
......Beginning with the first time I even heard about a Renaissance Faire. My sister-in-law, Ruthie, was excitedly telling me about the Kansas City Renaissance Festival. I think she and Ron had just been there. Honestly, I couldn't have been less interested. I thought it sounded boring. Silly me.
It would be many years before Kari and I, along with friends living in the area at that time, attended the KC Festival at their Bonner Springs location.

My first renfair was with Kari at the Salisbury House in Des Moines. It was held in the back courtyard of this stately home South of Grand. The Weeks family had their 1920's home constructed to match the King's House, a 15th Century Manor home they had seen in England. While the first one was a very small faire, it evolved and grew once it moved to Water Works Park.

I enjoyed several years of Salisbury Faires in Water Works Park. It was great taking my little granddaughters along and introducing them to the magic. They had as much fun dressing in costume as Kari, Doug and I did.

Although as I recall Alyssa, or maybe it was Dominique, didn't care much for the whip cracking troll pictured here with Kari. Kari sure had fun with him, though. She had recently purchased her own bull whip and had been practicing so they had a contest as to which one could crack the whip the loudest.

Eventually the Salisbury Faire was discontinued but another renfest was held for a few years at the state fair campgrounds. It wasn't huge, but it was fun. Just the right size to take a younger Zach and Katrina to. I remember Zach being put in the stocks after having Katrina placed in them. Des Moines finally has a permanent fair grounds at Sleepy Hollow south east of the state fair grounds. Bud and I have been there a couple times. It seems to be a good location unless it rains.

Douglas, Kathryn, Ramona, Deise and Kari. All dressed up with Someplace to go

My favorite Renaissance Faire has to be the Minnesota Renaissance Festival at Shakopee. I've lost track of how many times I've been there - always with Kari - first when she lived in the Twin Cities and later when we drove to get there or I met her when she flew in from Portland. This photo is of the year we took two of my granddaughters along. So many good, good memories of that faire!

Of course shopping is a favorite part of attending the faires. Over the years I have collected my share of treasures, especially the bodhran. Now if I could just learn to play it even one tenth as well as my son-in-law does! The bodice dagger on the left is also a favorite. It has a topaz stone set in the top. The other little knife is one I bought for Bud so I guess it would have to be a boot dagger.
The potion bottle holds some special oil while the leather medicine bag contains .... well, you're not supposed to tell what is in your medicine bag or it loses its power. The silver bracelet is the one I bought at that first Salisbury Faire; the silver ring at another one and the necklace at yet another. This is just a small sample of the jewelry, tee shirts, and other mementos I've come home with from all the faires over the years.

Possibly my favorite memory is captured in this picture of Duggan at his first renfest in Minnesota. He was dressed the part of a Celt but what he hadn't expected and what was so moving was how he felt thrown back in time. A true Son of Somerled.

Apple Orchard Memories

Even if the grocery ad wasn't telling me "New Crop Washington Royal Gala" apples were in and on sale for 88 cents a pound, I would know it was "that time of year". It's the difference in the light; not only where the sun is coming up and setting but the shorter days and longer nights.

It is the beginning of my favorite season of the year, Autumn. I even love the way the word sounds - like a sigh, Ahh-tum. Some of my favorite childhood memories involved trips to the apple orchard - going with my parents and grandparents to an orchard somewhere in southern Iowa or northern Missouri and coming home with bushels of apples, as well as a gallon or two of apple cider. I remember the orchard owners offering samples of the cider and thinking how good it was. Then on the way home Grandma Delphia showing us how she ate an apple - everything but the stem! Even the seeds! (The only other person I've known to eat an apple that way is my husband.)

When my grandchildren were little I tried sharing the same kind of experiences with them, taking them to apple orchards and pumpkin patches.

Zachary, Alyssa, Katrina and Toffee

Not only were the orchards a place to buy apples, they were a source of family entertainment. I remember taking these three to the Happy Apple Orchard between Cumming and Norwalk when they were around the ages pictured above. It was probably the first time I had seen 'train' cars made out of steel drums being pulled by a lawn tractor. We also enjoyed a hay rack ride out through the apple trees and along side a pond.

My favorite adult apple orchard adventure took place about twenty years ago when I was living in West Des Moines. Very early in the morning (six a.m.) one fine autumn day, I picked up my friend Kristina. She came to the car with a large thermos of coffee which lasted us the hour and a half down I-35 and across 34 to my Mom's house. Mom had more coffee brewed and the Oatie Cakes ready to go on the griddle. Kristina laughed as she challenged me to a contest to see who could eat the most pancakes. She won, though I won't say how many we ate that morning. Mom's Oatie Cakes are still my favorite pancakes and became  a favorite of Kristina's and her brother David, too. He serves them at his north woods cabin in Wisconsin.

A hearty breakfast with Mom was just the start of our day. Once the dishes were done we headed toward Griswold and our first stop, the Glen Robin Orchard. At that time the orchard was already sixty plus years old having been established by R.F. Chambers in 1930.  It continues today with new owners and under the name 3 Bee Farms specializing in apples and honey as well as other produce and pumpkins and agritourism.

Before leaving Griswold we stopped at a grocery store for bread, cheese and other lunchables. We planned to eat our picnic at Cold Springs State Park but just north of Griswold we happened upon Cocklin's Fish Farm which is where this picture was taken. I believe the fish farm was a county park at that time as well as being an RV campgrounds and fishing farm. We didn't do any fishing but we did enjoy our lunch at one of their picnic tables under the shade of a venerable oak tree before driving on to Cold Springs State Park.

We also drove out to the Hitchcock House west of Lewis. I had read about the sandstone house built by the Reverend George B. Hitchcock in 1859 - how it had been used as a stop on the Underground Railroad - and was hoping to see the secret room in the basement where runaway slaves had hidden out. Unfortunately the house that day still looked much like this picture; it had yet to undergo restoration and become the National Historic Landmark it is today. We walked around and peeked through the windows but didn't enter.

That perfect autumn day ended with us driving Mom back home followed by our trip back to our homes in West Des Moines. But just the mention of Glen Robin orchard reminds me of one more memory.

I wonder if my little brother remembers this one or if my memory of what year it was is off and he was already in school? My memory is of Mom & Dad making a trip to the Glen Robin orchard for apples after we had the '55 Plymouth which we got in '57. It involved Dad's 'lead foot' and a speeding ticket on the way home. I'm sure Mom had been telling him to "slow down". Those apples were always referred to as "the most expensive bushel of apples Dad ever bought".

 

I'm feeling like a trip to an apple orchard is in order.