I woke up this morning at 0545 thinking that it’s been a while since I shared something with all of you. This caused my brain to swirl (counterclockwise) with myriads of possibilities for topics to address. I lay there for a while, waiting for the swirling to stop, but it never did, so I extracted myself from bed and headed for the kitchen where I found a fairly fresh baked loaf of bread. This caused the swirling to stop and shift into a more immediate need for sustenance in the form of peanut butter toast. Since I’d not had any in a while, I toasted two slices of bread while I looked for the cat.

Yeah, I know. Looking for the cat really doesn’t have anything to do with toasting bread. It’s just that while toasting is going on there’s a period of idle time that required me to be doing something, so I looked for the cat. She had to eat, too. I didn’t find her right away, but had time to put some kitty bisque in her bowl with the optimistic belief that she would show up and, she did. Right on time.

By the time I go my toast buttered, and got settled in my chair, she was done eating and looking for a lap to nap in. Actually, it’s more like a lap to shed hair and lick herself all over. During these times it’s necessary to keep one hand on her to keep her away from my toast. She likes peanut butter. I give her a little lick once in a while by swiping some on one of the fingers of my cat hand, risking dozens of diseases, while I gobble my toast. By the time I’m done, so is she and she settles down for a short nap.

It’s a short nap because guilt creeps into my head as I think about Diane sitting alone with her mother. Now, sitting with Mom isn’t all that difficult, but she isn’t much of a lap person which makes me feel like I have the advantage. Cutting the cat nap short by standing, thereby removing the lap, I ready myself for the trip down the hill.

Another reason I scurry down the hill is because I know Diane has a pot of coffee brewing and I need some. It’s a horrible affliction but I read somewhere that coffee is good for the heart. Choosing to believe that, I imbibe every morning.

The weather here in the Pacific Northwest is very wet right now. And, it’s getting colder as winter sneaks up on us.

The foregoing words reflect pretty much every day now. It was started on December 6th and the only thing that’s changed is that I don’t often find fresh home baked bread and I don’t eat peanut butter toast every day – just once in a while.

Since Diane stays nights with her mom, I’m the designated cook for both of them. That’s really just a continuation of our arrangement before Diane changed home addresses and that’s OK. I like to cook and doing that, as I’m sure I’ve reported previously, means I don’t have to clean up the mess I make. Still, I’m careful not to make it too messy

Today is Thursday, December 16th, the day some of us fellows from church meet for coffee at the Kozy Korner Cafe. Regarding that, I’m curious to know why it isn’t the Kozy Korner Kafe. Makes more sense and doing so would allow me to shorten the name to K3. As it is it’s a more complicated K2C. Just a thought.

The Girls who wait on us at the Kozy, Kerry and Kerry are the best. They deliver coffee to us without us having to ask. We sit down and full coffee cups appear like magic. It’s kind of interesting that toward the end of summer I ran across one of the Kerry’s at Safeway and didn’t recognize her until she said “Kozy”. I knew I knew her, but the synapses weren’t firing correctly. She understood the look of confusion on my face as I struggled to say her name. Very odd. I’m sure that’s the kind of confusion people who have dementia suffer. Well, that’s me. Diane tells me I have dementia so it must be true. Instead of worrying about it I just embrace it even though it makes Diane cranky. It’s easier to ask than to remember.

She doesn’t like me asking her to repeat things to me that she’s shared in the past, and I know it’s true; but I also know that Diane remembers stuff and I don’t hesitate to ask.

Considering all off that, perhaps dementia should be spelled DeMen’Tia, kinda like DeJa’Vu. Or, just get rid of the word dementia and stick with DeJa’Vu since that’s pretty descriptive for the malady.

Looks like it’s time to stop this nonsense.

I hope everyone is well and looking forward to a blessed Christmas.

As most of you know, I spent a considerable amount of time on active duty as part of the US Navy. I retired in 1989 and still celebrate my association with the Navy and appreciate the many ‘Thank Yous’ I receive from those I meet. It was an honor to serve and I’m humbled when people take the time to thank me for that service.

What many folks do not consider is the sacrifice our spouses made over the course of those military careers. They did not have an easy job being left alone with all the household responsibilities. Many marriages cannot weather that storm and, sadly, ending in turmoil for the families.

I am blessed to still be married to my high school sweetheart who joined me in 1968 and was whisked away from sleepy Warren, Oregon to Okinawa, Japan on the other side of the Pacific Ocean . She experienced culture shock and endured this life-changing experience, supporting me, making us an unstoppable 2-person team throughout the remaining 20 years of ‘our’ career.

Yes, it was ‘our’ career, not just mine. She put in the time and dealt with just as many difficult times as I did, never faltering, always there for me and our children.

That’s what I think about every day, and especially on Veteran’s Day when we who served are put in the spotlight.

So, My Love, Thank You for Your Service.

Our little Buddy is gone. I’ve had to delay this news because he passed away in his sleep while we were away in Montana. He was 16 years old, but he acted like a little puppy most of the time. Toward the end he was blind and had an attitude to the point where his groomer wasn’t able to get him looking this handsome. Still, we loved the little guy to the end and miss him every day.

Ciao, Oz.

• I recently had to fill out a medical form at the VA and was surprised to see that the “Gender” block had been changed. Instead of having just “M” and “F” is shows “Gender Assigned at Birth – M of F”.

I understand that in today’s world, gender identification is almost a science of its own because many people who were assigned the “M” gender at birth don’t mentally or socially associate themselves with other “M” assignees. I get it. Same goes for those assigned the “F”. I’m sure this has been an issue for many many generations but it just wasn’t discussed so openly as it is now.

Complicating this further, gender pronouns are a hot button for many folks, so I did a little research and found this info provided by the Vassar LGBTQ Center.

QUOTE 

What is a gender pronoun?

• A gender pronoun is a pronoun that a person chooses to use for themself. For example: If Xena’s gender pronouns are she, her, and hers, you could say “Xena ate her food because she was hungry.”

END QUOTE

OK, got it. People can choose their own gender pronouns to reflect how they feel about themselves. I respect that and do my best to comply with their wishes when I encounter the need.

I submit, however, that doing this does not mean that an assigned “M” is changing their gender simply by letting people know they prefer to be called “her” or “she”. It’s a preference based on how they view themselves. At the end of the day, an “M” is still an “M” and an “F” is still an “F” even for those who identify with the opposite assigned gender.

So, I think those medical forms that use “Gender Assigned at Birth” should get an additional line requesting to know “What Gender Pronoun do you Prefer – Him or Her?”.

It’s a complicated world we live in and navigating the hazards is becoming more difficult. It isn’t my desire to offend anyone but not knowing the rules places me in harms way. I suspect that’s true for some of you, too. Hopefully, sharing this information from Vassar will help clear things up for all of us.

I will not report on this issue in the future. It’s just one of those things that got into my head and the only way I can get it out of there is to write it down.

Thanks

The entries for this trip are disjointed, I know, and there are reasons, of course. I would share all those reasons but it would sound a lot like whining so I’ll just give you the main reason.

OK, I’ll give you a few of them.

First, my laptop is old and slow like molasses all the time. No amount of searching on the internet, when we had it, revealed a viable solution so I struggled with the long wait times. It reminded me of when I first got involved with computers (1989) when slow was the norm. Now, however, everything is supposed to be lighting fast, like when the laptop was new (2010, I think).

Then there was the internet problem. Most of the campgrounds had wifi, but in all cases it was a iffy connection to a slow service. Diane and I found that using our iPhones as a hot spot worked far better (when we had a cell signal).

Other reasons for scattered input involved laziness. I was on vacation and simply found it more relaxing to just zone out on the sofa, watching TV, until time for bed. That was one really good thing about all the camping sites – we had a good look at the southern sky that ensured contact with the Dish satellites. Just like being home, almost. I don’t like using that term because it conjures the question, “then why didn’t you just stay home?” So, I shy away from that one so forget I said that.

Also, most of our RV trips only last 4-5 days at a time but this one stretched to 18 days. I know that’s true because that’s how many pair of underwear I packed and I used every one of them. I also packed just enough pills to make it all the way to the end and ran out the day we got home. That was last Thursday, September 30th.

The last excuse I have for not keeping up with our travels is that we had to change our route because of forest fires and rumors that Highway 12 had been closed where it crosses into the Indian Reservation to stop the spread of COVID. Instead of verifying the latter, we just chose to head north back through Coeur d’Alene to Spokane. That one wore my head out even though I was not part of the planning process to find an alternate route. The ladies did all that.

From Drummond, Montana, the name that may not be correct, and the Ghost Town attraction, we headed west. That’s the direction both those arrows indicate, but we used I-90 instead of Drummond Frontage Road, which passes by the Bearmouth Chalet and RV park.

When we got to Missoula, just a few miles west of Bearmouth, or Drummond (your choice), we stopped to take a peak at Fort Missoula which was not far off route. when we finally weaved our RVs through a seemingly endless number of full parking lots, we found some space in front of the Military Museum. As luck would have it, that was my main choice of places to look at.

While trying to avoid active sprinklers, I got to a dry sidewalk and saw this lashup which intrigued me.

The hose runs off to one of the sprinklers running in the area.

This apparently intrigued me so much that I either failed to take photos inside the museum, or I took ’em and lost ’em. We may never know. I just know I can’t find them, yet.

one of On the grounds outside the museum we discovered all manner of interesting things. This was my favorites ……..

There was also a steam engine that belongs to Willamette Iron & Steel Works in Portland, Oregon. That true. there was a label on it …

In an attempt to curb vandalism, they put a sign on it to dissuade climbers,

… but there’s one in every crowd, right?

Actually, I asked Terry to step up there so I could take his photo for this very purpose. He didn’t hesitate but he didn’t see the sign, either. It was OK, though, because no one was looking but us.

There was this enormous steam tractor, too, that was connected to a portable sawmill. Fascinating.

After the park and museum, we continued our journey west toward Spokane. Since we fiddled around a while at the fort, we made it a short day by stopping at the River’s Edge RV park in Alberton, Montana. It was handy, between I-90 and the Clark Fork River. I think Diane found it. It’s a nice park once you find the spot assigned. It was very confusing, but we worked it out and got parked OK. Supper was left overs from previous meals at table #5 on the river, about 50 feet from our parking spot.

In Spokane we were going to stay at the Elks Lodge but upon arriving at the address we found on the internet we found that the entire building had been torn down. We found another address for it but couldn’t find it so we stayed at the Eagle’s Lodge instead. It was OK but it poured down rain in the night. That sounds like a complaint, but it isn’t. It was an observation.

From Spokane we drove south to Umatilla and stayed at a city park right on the river. It was Exit 1 after crossing the Columbia. Diane and I left the other two RV’s at Spokane because Terry was having transmission problems that needed attention and he didn’t want to take a chance of catastrophic failure on the freeway. Cliff an Susie stayed with him an Carolann to help. We went ahead because my pills ran out on Thursday and we had to be home before then. As it turned out, they acquired a workable solution that allowed them to follow about 3 hours behind us. They alerted us when they were 20 miles out so Diane and I took a walk round the park and found a bench to perch on so we could see them coming down the road.

And, there they were!

We all had good spots in the park, enjoyed the evening with a group dinner, then headed west on I-84 for The Dalles the following morning. We only made one stop along the way, not too far past Boardman.

In The Dalles we stayed at the Eagle’s Lodge parking lot (with hookups). For dinner we went to Cousin’s Restaurant. Turns out it wasn’t nearly as good as it used to be so we crossed it off out list for the near future. We took a little trip around town near our parking spots, and I found this street …

We didn’t linger here, but headed back to the ranch post haste.

Diane and I headed home the next morning but the other two couples wanted to stay another night because of the weather report. They didn’t want to get home and unpack in the rain that was forecast. So, Diane and I went on ahead.

The trip through the Columbia River Gorge was extremely windy (not uncommon) and it poured rain on us the entire way. So, the weather report Terry heard was correct.

We got home in time for me to take my last batch of pills so all is good.

As I finish this, we’ve been home just a week.

We took a trip to the mountains to see some glaciers, but they are not as close as I’d like them to be. I wanted to touch one of them but they are all too far away. Rumor has it that they’ve been shrinking lately due to global warming which may or may not be true, depending on your individuals beliefs. I, personally, think they’re probably melting because it’s warmer outside than it used to be.

Once we entered the Glacier National Park the road quickly narrowed making progress difficult at times. Like when someone in a very large pickup is coming at you and he’s crowding the center line because he doesn’t want to snap his mirror off on the sheer rock wall to his right. Adding to the that, I think the pickups in Montana are bigger than in other states. And, most of them have diesel engines and the drivers like to show you how loud they can be when they stomp on the gas going by the Elks Lodge. That’s where we’re staying, the Elks Lodge in Kalispell, Montana.

Diane was driving, though, so we were safe. She’s a great driver. As we got closer to the top, the drop to our right got more exciting until she finally called it quits and turned around. Since there are no turn-arounds on the road, she just stopped and made a U-turn. It was during a rare lull when there was no traffic either direction, though, so it was safe.

We made a few stops on the way up to ooo and aaaah at the incredible views of the mountains. And, I took over 300 photos with my phone. Later in the day I blamed my sore right hand on the picture taking. Every corner we turned surprised us with another fantastic view. Here are some of them …

Did I mention that there are lots of lakes in this part of the world? Well, there are.

Then the mountains started popping up.

At every corner the view was more magnificent

I’d add more but I think you get the idea. In that first picture you can see two of the glaciers that populate the area. Very few of them are accessible but we were perfectly content to see them from afar.

In all we spent 5-6 hours on this trip and it was worth every second of it. Mingling with all the other Looky-Looers was fun, too. We met some really nice people whose names I do not know.

Today was a day of rest for me. I got to sleep in longer than usual, then the other five folks piled into the Diane’s Equinox and motored off to visit a mansion in town. I chose to stay behind and guard everything and take a nap.

Tomorrow we planned to head down toward Missoula to visit a ghost town but discovered that this is home-coming week for the University of Montana which, unfortunately for us, is in Missoula. Seems like everyone who ever went to college there has an RV and they used up all the spaces. So, when The crew gets back from their visit to town, Diane will no doubt hunker down and search for an alternate place to park our homes.

Wish us luck.

Today is Sunday. We spent most of it driving from Coeur d’Alene, Idaho to Troy, Montana. Normally it’s about a 2 hour drive but one of us decided to not follow the leader and screwed things up a bit. As a result, the rain gods made a concerted effort to dampen our spirits most of the way but we didn’t mind. It’s been a long time since we’ve had the pleasure of rain and it was pretty refreshing. Since we enjoyed the rain too much, I suspect, they gave up as we neared our destination and the sun came out to greet us, welcoming us to the Kootenai River Campground on Highway 2, space 4. It’s a nice little park in Troy, Montana owned by a retired Senior Chief Corpsman. We had a nice conversation about past duty stations like old chiefs are prone to do. It’s required.

Before leaving Coeur D’Alene we took a trip to the lake just to see it up close. We found a merry-go-round that was actually operating so we took a ride. I pulled 13 rings from the holder, one of which was a gold one so I won a free ride. Not wanting to use it right away, I took a ticket thinking it would make a good souvenir. Instead, I gave it to a couple of Mom’s with a couple of kids who were heading in for a ride. That’s better than a souvenir.

On the outside wall of the merry-go-round were these wings that were obviously placed there to allow folks like us to show our angelic side, which we did.

The trip along State Road 200 and 56 afforded us stunning views of rivers, mountains, and valleys. Way different from the never ending wheat fields we traversed in Washington, although those were pretty stunning, too.

Though there are some nice attractions here, we are only spending one night. Getting to Glacier National Park takes precedence so we must move on.

We arrived in Kalispell, Montana early afternoon on Monday. It was a beautiful drive that included more torrents of rain and bouts of sunshine. Kalispell is spread out over a considerable area of this part of Montana. We’ve found the people, and drivers, to be very considerate and kind so it seems to be a good place. We may move here.

Then again, maybe not.

No, not “maybe”, just not. We’re quite happy with our home in Oregon.

See you tomorrow with information about the glacier.

Hi.

Diane and I, and a few friends, are on a road trip to Glacier National Park that’s located somewhere in Montana. It’s my understanding that we must traverse through Washington and Idaho to get there. So far, two days into the trip, that info has been accurate and we are spending our second night in Kenniwick, WA. That’s one of the Tri-Cities, in case you’re wondering. The other two are Pasco and Richland. Although the cities are separate villages, and we’ve technically only been to Kenniwick, we can honestly say we visited the Tri-Cities. Not that that’s important.

The Tri-Cities is scattered along the shores of the Columbia River in the area where hydroplane races are held each year in July. Apparently they happened last July but no one told us. So, we missed it again. Looks like a COVID spreader to me, but it would have still been fun.

To start the trip we journeyed from our home to a friend’s home in Gresham last Sunday, the 12th, because they live an hour closer to our first destination. It didn’t seem fair for Diane and I to have to get up a couple hours earlier than everyone else, and drive an hour longer to begin the trip, so we went the day before scheduled departure and spend the night in our RV on the street in front of their house. They said it was OK.

Getting there the day before gave us all a chance to have a picnic in Terry and Carolann’s back yard. We had dead Kentucky Fried Chicken and Diabetic Friendly jello that Diane made. There was other stuff, too, but I can’t remember what it was.

Monday morning we all got up bright and shiny ready to depart at 10:30 am. Everything went smoothly until I pushed the button to raise the jacks on our RV. No matter how hard, or often I pushed that button, they just wouldn’t go up all the way. Consequently, we couldn’t leave. Not wanting to be a hinderance, we encouraged those who could to leave without us with promises that we’d catch up with them later. But, they all stuck around like good friends do. After a bit of head scratching, it was determined that the system that controlled the hydraulic jacks was low on fluid. As luck would have it, Terry had a brand new gallon of the correct fluid and Cliff used it to top off the tank. Not sure how much was needed, he was careful the first two attempts, then went all in on the third try which resulted in the reservoir tank to overflow a bit. Once that was done, I ran the jacks up and down a few times to make sure they worked correctly, which they did, and we were on our way. I must add, at this point, that Cliff is a dapper gentleman who wears a sport coat most of the time, no matter what he’s doing. Even when working on other people’s motorhomes. I only had to poke him a couple of times too encourage him to finish the job before getting out from under the RV.

Then we discovered that a door opened next to the hydraulic system making access easier so Cliff wouldn’t have to lay on the ground. Made him happy, it did.

First stop was at a really wide spot on I-84 along the Columbia River where we ate lunch. Some of us could have used a short nap but that wasn’t in the cards. It was OK, though, because we weren’t far from our first scheduled stop at Bill Ferris’ home in Kennewick, WA.

Bill is an old friend of the Classic Winnebago group who hasn’t been seen by any of us for a long time so he wan’t cognizant of the changes we have all made in the past 10 years. He was on his porch when we showed up, Diane and I in the lead, and he greeted us with, “What the hell is that?” which is code for “where’s the Winnebago?” We haven’t had one of those for a while. Bill has space to park a couple of rigs along side his garage which I left to the younger crowd. Bill lives on a dead end street, which we didn’t know until we arrived, so turning our 35′ bus around in the cul-de-sac proved to be difficult since these people park around the perimeter instead of in their driveways. Fortunately, his neighbor saw our plight and moved his car which was perilously close to the front of our bus as I attempted to wiggle around him. Once he was moved, I parked in front of Bills house.

He had all manner of cold cuts in his fridge waiting for our arrival so he could feed us. It was very good. We visited, caught up a bit, then closed down for the night.

The next morning, Tuesday, we were treated to a fun tour of Kennewick With Bill directing Terry from the navigators seat with the girls following behind. Kennewick is a beautiful city on the Columbia River.

I’m sure this bridge has a name but I’ll be darned if I know what it is.

We visited a very large carousel that has been totally restored. Additionally, since it’s in Washington, it has two extra animals not commonly found on carousels …

One of the stops was at a monument to 9/11 which contains a warped piece from the World Trade Center in New York. No one, including Bill, knew how this bit of history wound up in Kennewick, but it certainly did and we all touched it. Driving around the city we were treated to many wonderful views too many to share here. You’ll just have to go see for yourself.

After 2 days on the street in front of Bill’s house, we pulled in our anchors and headed north and east to Moscow, Idaho where we planted ourselves for another couple of days at the Moscow Elks Lodge. To get there required that I dump a bunch of ATF in the hydraulic reservoir for the leveling jacks in order to get them fully retracted. After a short period of time the leveling system started blinking all it’s lights and beeping at me warning that at least one of the jacks was not fully retracted. We dealt with the noise for about 40 miles before Diane insisted that we stop and see about turning it off. The problem with stopping was finding a place away from the highway where we could actually turn around.

Magically, a church with large parking lot appeared and I took advantage to pull over and stop. That allowed a whole bunch of ATF to spill on the asphalt letting me know that at our next stop a project would be necessary.

That’s Cliff’s head and that black tank with the yellow sticker was the problem. It has a smaller tube on the bottom left attached to the hydraulic pump that had about a 2″ crack where it attaches to the large tank. Cliff found all that and after a few phone calls I found a welder in Troy, Idaho who was willing to take on this small project. At the shop willing to do it, a young girl weilded the torch and painted the tank so it looked like new. Impressive.

Back at the camp site, Terry reinforced the weld by applying a bit of gas tank patching material over the repaired area. Then, when no one was looking, Cliff put it all back together wearing a very nice wind breaker.

Then I strained all the ATF we had captured while dismantling the unit, and poured it back into the tank. In all the repair cost about $50 for the welding and parts, some of which weren’t used but may come in handy another day.

It all works perfect, now, and no longer drips ATF all over the place. Jerrie’s a happy camper as is Diane because the beeping stopped.

The real reason we stopped in Moscow was so we could visit with John and Sue who are also Winnebago friends. They moved from the Seattle area to a 66 acre farm in Deary, Idaho which is just a hop and a skip away from Moscow. We would have stayed in Deary but Moscow has the closest Elk campground.

This takes us through day 4 of the trip. On the 5th day we packed up and headed north to Coeur D’Alene, Idaho which lies about 4+ hours straight north on Highway 95. e

It was an eventful trip through some mighty picturesque farmland carved into the rolling hills. We’ve never seen so many wheat and hay fields in our lives. It was amazing but you’ll have to take my word for it because I was driving and couldn’t take photos. Just trust me.

At the end of Day 5 we pulled in to the Coeur D’Alene Elks Lodge RV site where we spent two days resting and looking around the city. We had lunch out, our first of this trip, at Le Peeps down by the lake. Great food and a nice view.

Instead of dragging this out any longer, I’m ending this segment and will continue tomorrow once we get settled in out next park 2-3 hours north of here. Out past Sandpoint and Bonners Ferry. I have more photos to add but doing so on this park’s Wi-fi is painfully slow. Maybe tomorrow will be better.

See you there.