..."our" camp site

A few weeks ago my dad called and said he and mom were headed to the mountains. Would I like to join them? Of course! I packed up the truck, loaded up the ol' dog, and off we went. We stayed at Tamarack Camp site--it has water faucets and regulation outhouses, and is easy to get a trailer in and out--a great campsite. But--"our" campsite is further up the creek, has no faucets, no outhouses, and is down in a gully, so getting the trailer in--and out--is a bit of a challenge. "Our" campsite is the place that we claimed over 30 years ago. Every camping trip, the closer we got, the more anxious we were. Would it be open? Or would someone already be camped there? Now we just visit, play in the swimming hole, and "remember when." (I want to be like Mom--still playing in the creek at 76!)

And I don't know that I truly want to camp there again (regulation outhouses at night are nice). I think it's more that I'm nostalgic for a different time when regular camping trips were what we did as a family.

2000

Chasse and I shared a tent.
The view from my tent in the early morning hours.
Fresh trout--yum.
Cherrie pie, cooking over the coals. A friend from Canada introduced us to these.

Fisher people--Dad needed something from the truck and told me to hold his pole (slightly illegal). I swished the worm through the water and felt a tug. Um, Dad?


The log...that leads from "our" site to "our" swimming hole. About 21 years ago I sat down on it to nurse Katie, and the guys who were camped in "our" site decided to pack up. Really, it was all rated G and very discreet! Don't let Arlene tell you otherwise! haha

...a train named Joe

Normally, I would not be happy about being awakened in the early morning hours by a headache, but today it turned out to be a good thing. I got up and took something, then made a big pot of strong coffee (always good for iced coffee later!). Instead of going back to bed I sat down at the computer and continued messing with my photos (not as cumbersome as a box of pictures, but still tedious). And it turns out that the timing was right to chat with Nate in Alaska--he's working 6 hours on, 6 off, around the clock, and just happened to be puttering on the computer at the same time. So good to catch up with him. Then the ol' dog woke up and wanted out (it was early when I got up) and as I stepped outside with her I realized what a beautiful morning it was. So back upstairs to say goodbye for now to Nate and to get my biking clothes on. I was out the door a little after 6:00. Ahhh...the first road bike ride since STP--it felt so good. (I took my Mt bike camping, rode it on the Boise greenbelt, and took a meandering ride to downtown Burns, but it just isn't the same as riding my road bike.) I was enjoying the fresh air and quiet (well except for the creaking left pedal--a visit to the LBS is in order) when I approached the RR tracks. Just then a train whistle blew--wooWOO! I was instantly transported back in time--and this line popped into my head: Here is a train, his name is Joe. Listen, hear his whistle blow? Here is the shiny, silvery track that carries Joe to town and back. That's from a book Nate loved to have read to him over and over again when he was a very small boy. One thought led to another and soon lines from favorite books were running through my head: Way up north in the land of ice and snow stands a cozy little house. Beside the front door stands a neat little sign--S. Claus--says the sign, because that is who lives there--Santa Claus. (Nate "read" this book at the age of 3.)

And Katie's favorites--Woe betide ye Molly Whuppie, if ye e'er come back again! And Brown Bear Brown Bear, what do you see? (I bought this one for her 4th birthday and loved to hear her read it.)

So I'm glad a headache woke me up. See what I would have missed if I'd gone back to bed?

Things I did happen to avoid on the ride:
--two dogs who thought chasing me would be a fun start to their day
--goat heads (puncture vines are creeping onto the roadway)
--irrigation spray (it can't be just plain ol' water the way the insects hover over the puddles)
--farm trucks in a hurry (it's harvest time)

...a ride around the valley

I love to ride when I'm visiting my folks--the Grande Ronde Valley is beautiful. Last Monday I got up early and headed out. It was an easy ride of about 36 miles, and I managed to beat the heat.

I wasn't quite quick enough with the camera, and should have gone back for a better picture. This old house has always intrigued me--it has two front doors! Grandpa Mel told me that it was built by a Mormon for his two wives. I wonder if that's true?

A look back (west) at Mt. Emily.

Looking north at Mt. Harris.Just past Hot Lake--looking towards Cove.Hot Lake--my Grandma Irene danced here in the 20s when it was a happenin' place. It has recently undergone a renaissance--a bronze sculptor has purchased it and is renovating it little by little.The first winter after we moved up from San Diego I was out driving with Grandpa Mel. There was a skiff of snow on this hill--I was so excited that I wanted to hike up to see it. Gramps convinced me that there wouldn't be much to see and to be patient for a real snowfall.This goat made me laugh. He was reaching through the fence to nibble on the lilac bush. When I stopped to take his picture he indignantly turned to look at me and didn't resume eating until I moved on.The road to the first place we lived in Cove--the Lewis Ranch. We were waiting to find a house to buy and all our furniture was still in storage. We camped out in their ranch-hand house for a few months. The Lewis girl who was my age asked me, "I have an aunt in San Bernadino...do you know her?" San Diego...San Bernadino...what's the diff?Ahhh...Mt. Fanny...lovely view.The second place we rented..still waiting to find "the" house to buy. This great old house had a tiny room at the top with generations of scribblings on the walls. At least one signature was from the 1800s. There was also a ballroom on the top floor--now the master bedroom.

The sign to High Valley Road--where dad was born in his grandmother's house.

Cove Public library--open on Thursdays when I was a teenager. Now open Tuesdays and Thursdays! Staffed by volunteers like Mrs. Goodson.

What a fun ride--lots of time to "remember when" and enjoy the beautiful valley. I think it will be seeing lots more of me this summer.

...State playoffs '01

Here are more pictures from the past...Nate's senior year of high school--State Playoffs. All the guys bleached their hair as an act of solidarity. Even some of the parents did. Yikes. Grandma and Grandpa came over from Cove for the game, and Auntie Arlene came all the way from Boise! What fans!