We left the bus not long before noon, and we only made it about 10 feet before Diane stopped and told me to get my keys.

I’ve done this before. So far, no harm has befallen us because of my mismanagement of the keys.

The park is about 55 miles away, a bit south of Green Valley, so we had to traverse familiar territory to get there. That was OK, because it’s actually a nice drive. It’s even better because I don’t have to drive. More accurately, I’m not allowed to drive. Max and I just sat there enjoying the ride.

Getting there was simple but when we approached the park there were cars parked all along both sides of the road. At first glance it was apparent that getting to the park itself could involve a long walk. Not knowing exactly where the entrance was, Diane kept driving until she spied a handicap spot and took it. As it turned out, that spot was directly in front of the entrance door into the park. Amazing, right? It gets better.

The entrance sign was very specific that no pets were allowed so I went inside to see if Max would be allowed to enter as a Support Animal. I made it clear that Max was a work in progress to be a Service Animal. To our benefit, the guy sitting behind the desk was a retired Command Master Chief with over 40 years of service so wearing my navy hat paid off. He only gave me a little grief about only making Senior Chief and for quitting the Navy after only 26.5 years. We chatted a bit and It was a good talk. He handed us off to a fellow ranger gave me the drill for service animals to ensure I understood the importance of not letting him desecrate the buildings or grounds. We understood. That actually isn’t a problem with Max because he’s the best little dog in the world.

There was a fiesta going on, the reason for our trip, and we could hear the music and singing in the distance. It was very pleasant.

We followed the fiesta signs that led deep into the park, behind the old church in the photo. Since it was on the way to the music, we had to stop and to see it before finding the source of the music.

Work on the church began in 1800 and the church was dedicated in 1822.

This is a rendition of what the interior looked like when it was in use.

This is what’s left

This is a rendition of what the altar area looked like

Here’s what’s left.

Now that you’ve seen my photos, you need to check out the park’s web site for better ones. I’m sure you will enjoy it.

The festival was a venue for many church, youth groups, and individual artists who sold items they made to support their groups. Scattered amongst the crafty people were many opportunities to by an incredible array of food. I bought Diane a bottle of water and a small Christmas tree ornament made out of string. Here are a couple of photos of the festivities. It was a busy place.

On the way out of the park we stopped for a while in a shady spot.

Here’s where we parked – the car on the right. That dark spot to the left of the car is the entrance door.

We drove back to Green Valley before hunger struck so we stopped at Arby’s for a fill-up. Max wasn’t offered anything to eat so he was a little bummed.

He stood like that the entire time I was eating my sandwich, so he got his way and wound up with quite a few bits of roast beef. It was only fair.

As soon as we got home, I took Max for a walk. We wound up talking to Chuck Berry, a fellow who drives an older RV with Oregon plates. I’ve been waiting to meet him, but he was never there when we went by, until this time.

I introduced myself and asked him which part of Oregon he had escaped from. He looked me right in the eye and said, “have you ever heard of St. Helens?” That was a true shocker. He and his wife live in St. Helens less than a mile from where we live.

Small world, right?

Needless to say, we had a nice visit and plan to have another before they leave this week.

Imagine that.