The stay in Wells, Nevada was a nice rest for us after the grueling trip over the mountain. I’m healing nicely, in case you’re wondering, and looked forward to getting on the road heading east. We did that yesterday and made it to Provo, Utah without any incident, as far as I can remember.

Here are some photos of the Wells stop:

Oh, wait! The RV overheated a few times on that trip because we climbed a lot of hills (mountains) again. Went down a lot of them, too. Kind of evened things out. The end result was a long trip across the Great Salt Lake Dessert where the Bonneville Salt Flats reside. It was an hours long trip on a I-80 that goes straight like an arrow all the way from Wendover, Nevada or Wendover, Utah (take your pick) to Clive, Utah. Actually, there’s a curve out of Wendover, but after that it went straight for the next 50 miles. Or so. The entire way we were surrounded by salt flats that kept a history of all the people who had driven off I-80 for one reason or another. My suspicion is that the tire tracks and ruts we saw were made by folks with 4-wheel drive vehicles who needed to see if they could get in and out of all that salt.

After the Clive exit the road gets a little more interesting to the point where we figured we’d entered Freeway Hell as we entered the outskirts of Salt Lake City. The traffic is incredibly bad there and gets worse, the deeper one goes into the city.

Thankfully, we turned south on I-215 toward Provo. Our destination was Elks Lodge 849 where we hoped to score 3 of the 5 RV spots that have full hookups. Sadly, after navigating some of the worst afterwork rush hour(s) we arrived a wee bit late, and they only had 2 remaining. We were leading the pack so missed the entrance to the lodge which wasn’t very well marked.

When we arrived Cliff and Terry, who didn’t miss the entrance, were hooked up and we were prepared to spend the night dry camping. But, Cliff had a better idea. The spaces were long enough that we could park two RV’s in one spot so we got permission to double up. The lodge manager agreed and that’s what we did.

It was imperative that we get electric, at least, because our fridge decided all the sudden that it wouldn’t work with propane. It needed AC power. So, we ran our generator most of the way to make sure our food wouldn’t spoil. We were also looking at running it all night, too. Cliff saved the day.

We spent the evening in the lodge, which is quite nice. Actually, it’s hands down the nicest lodge we’ve ever seen. It has an elevator and lives on a few acres of city center property.

We would have had dinner there but there no cook. So, we got permission from the bartender to get something from Wendy’s and bring it in to eat. After that we retired to our vehicles and had a restful night. While waiting for our orders to arrive, one of the customers showed up with this …

This morning we had planned to leave at 9 am but didn’t leave until 10 am. Or later. First stop was a Love’s refueling depot for fuel. As you might expect, I got confused about how to get into the pumps and didn’t make it until Terry and Cliff were finished. As we were finishing up, Terry showed up behind us at the pump and followed us out. Thinking he and Cliff were coming along behind us, we headed for I-215 south to the exit toward Green River, Utah (our next destination) we learned that Terry had pealed off to wait for Cliff and Susie who were at the nearby Cracker Barrel for some reason. We were already committed to entering I-215 so chose to continue on and let everyone know we would wait for them at a likely turnout, or rest area on up the road.

We made it a long way out of town and wound up on a lookout overlooking the windy road we’d traversed to get to the top. Setting up some chairs we lounged comfortably behind a barrier, searching for our friends as they climbed the mountain.

Even Max took his turn as a lookout.

We were surprised when everyone showed up fairly quickly. Once we were joined up we sailed non-stop into the Shady Acres RV Park in Green River, Utah.

The landscape made a dramatic change as we travelled, revealing a little of the scenes we looked forward to seeing on a grander scale. Our plans for tomorrow were hashed out over a wonderfully spaghetti dinner at the Unger abode. By the time the girls were done talking it was dark and we were looking at a scary walk home. It was only about 40 feet, but it was scary. Just ask Diane. We had to use my phone flashlight which revealed that ants like to work at night. There were many of them trotting around our feet on that short trip.

That’s it for now. Tomorrow starts a new journey as we begin our quest to visit all the national parks we can in Utah.

Just for fun, in case he reads this, I wanted to show Les how dirty our truck got as we dragged it across Utah.

Hmmm. Not so dirty after all.

Today we decided to do some exploring of the area, so that’s what we did. We’ve travelled through Twin Falls many times in the past but never stopped. This time we did. Cliff and I alerted our Elks Lodge bartender about our plans, and she suggested that we go to Shoshone Falls. It only took a little bit of investigation by Diane to get those directions.

All six of us piled into Terry’s new (2015) suburban and headed south from Jerome, crossing over the bridge spanning the Snake River that trickles serenely through the deep canyon it carved on its way to Kennewick, Washington where it flows gently into the Columbia River on its way to the Pacific Ocean. Whew! That was a mouthful.

Before crossing the canyon, we stopped to investigate a field filled with 3,000 American flags on display next to Highway 93. It’s called the field of healing, honoring those who died in 9-11, and other tragedies our nation has suffered. I spoke with a VFW member who was currently on guard and learned that the field is filled with flags every year at this time. VFW and American Legion members mark out the flag locations and the High School football team places all 3,000 flags. He said it only takes them about an hour to complete it. That would be worth watching.

The Snake River Canyon is quite beautiful. There are lookout points on both ends of the Perrine Bridge that you should take advantage of if you ever pass this way. Our goal this day, as mentioned above, was Shoshone Falls.

The website link above shows the falls when the water is plentiful and flowing fast but this time of year the falls are not nearly as stunning. But the land over which it flows is stunning in its own way. Nestled safely above the waterline in the canyon are a number of homes that make me wonder how loud it must be to live there when the river is at its best. The falls were reduced to a trickle for our visit.

After this it was all downhill as we headed back to the RVs on the other side of the river. Carolann then took Terry back to the hospital emergency room to get some relief for his brutally painful back. That’s a story for another time. Short version is they returned ‘home’ around 8:30. Cliff and I teamed up to drag Terry to their abode and got him situated in a prone position on his bed. He appeared to be comfortable but it was hard to understand him because of the medicine they gave him. Hopefully he’ll be on the mend tomorrow because we have a fairly long drive to Wells, Nevada.

Now, for that long drive … Turns out Highway 93 from Twin Falls south to Wells is all uphill. No one told us that. At the very tippy top we crested over 6700 feet. I blame the rarefied air for causing our engine to overheat and give us fits. On some hills we dropped to 30-40 mph to avoid engine damage.

Finally, we started back down the mountain and made it to a small village with a fuel station where I thought it would be a good idea to add some more water to the radiator. Not thinking, something I do quite often, I opened the cubby hole where the overflow tank lives and twisted the cap off to gain access. Turns out that diesel rigs have pressure caps on their overflow tanks, like a radiator, and when the water’s hot it expands rapidly to escape when the pressure is released.

The cap blew out of my hand as the boiling water ejected, splashing really hot antifreeze all over me as I attempted to escape the fountain. It lasted a long time and pretty much emptied the tank all over Diane’s pickup. I couldn’t believe that no one took a photo of this rare event. It was very exciting.

The main damage to my body was limited to my left hand that received the initial outpouring of super-heated water, so Diane and others stood around me pouring cold water all over the burned areas. It felt really good. Then I slathered my hands and face with aloe gel to keep the skin from falling off. It worked nicely. Nothing fell off. Yet.

Wrapping a wet towel around my hand I resumed our drive to Wells which was about 30 miles away. After making only one wrong turn we finally made it to the Welcome Home RV Park where Diane had previously made reservations. It’s a beautiful little oasis along I-80 West about 15 miles from Wells. We all got parked, Susie cooked supper and all was good with the world. I was even able to get the Dish antenna situated where it connected to the two remaining satellites available and got to see the Ducks and Texas Tech game. My hand hurt a little, but we don’t think it’s going to fall off. It seems to be working just fine as I hammer on my keyboard.

In parting, here’s a shot of Max feeling sorry for me …

Oh, and that place where I mentioned that Cliff and I manhandled Terry into their rig was a lie. All of it. He’s still in pain after the doctor’s visit but he can still navigate pretty good. We think he’s going to make it.

Cheers

To start this off I gotta tell you I’m a teensy bit frustrated because somewhere between having completed this post, and Diane giving it her stamp of approval, the computer froze in the middle of ‘auto save’ and everything except the first paragraph was lost in the ozone. So, I will start again.

We made it all the way to Jerome from Caldwell without incident. The speed limit increased from 70 to 80 mph somewhere along the way, but we maintained our stately 55-60 mph pace anyway. It’s better for us to travel at a speed that allows for impaired drivers to correct driving errors (watching the scenery) in a timely manner less likely to lead to a disastrous wreck or, possibly, divorce in the near future. We were passed by everyone, but we were comfortable watching them buzz on up the road.

Before leaving Nampa, I got up early so I could join Jim and his friends at their favorite Burger King for their weekly coffee clash. I’ve met all the guys during previous visits to the city, but I still don’t remember any of their names. It was OK. We had coffee, told lies to each other, ate a breakfast sandwich, and generally had a good time. The last time I got to do this was when we visited to attend Maryssa’s and Matt’s wedding. I think that was just a couple of years ago. Seems like yesterday. If I’d been a little more coherent, I would have snapped a photo of the coffee group, but I wasn’t so I didn’t.

After coffee I jumped in Diane’s truck and headed back to Caldwell. I’m happy to report that I made it without getting lost even one time unlike the trip to Burger King. Yes, I got a bit turned around because I’m not used to driving without a navigator.

Before going further I’m going to add a few photos from yesterday. I was unable to do that previously because I didn’t have a power cord for the laptop. Thankfully, Nampa is a modern city and had a handy Best Buy close by where I managed to get what I needed. So, here they are.

Birk and Max waiting for something to fall on the floor while Bob & Steffani visited us upon arrival in Nampa.

Max getting acquainted with Steffani. He’s a bit shy …

Jim & Donna’s new home …

The day before yesterday, while Birk and Max spent the afternoon playing in the yard, Steffani took us on a tour of Jim and Donna’s new home (see above) while, at the same time, spent her spare time making a fantastic lasagna dinner. It was just like a large family reunion that included our adopted family with whom we are traveling. We all had a great time, a good way to spend our last evening together. It even rained a bit which was refreshing..

Jim & Donna at Bob and Steffani’s.

Jim always giggles just like a little girl when I kiss him.

So, do I.

Birk, Steffani, Bob, Tyler, and Carlos.

The evening ended and we made our way back to Caldwell to see about getting a good night’s sleep in preparation for the grueling drive to Jerome the next day. Thankfully, the trip was uneventful, and we made it safely to the Snake River Elks Lodge. It was good we arrived when we did because the few spaces available are first come first served. We needed three spots and only six were available. Shortly after we got all settle, three big rigs from California showed up and filled the remaining spots that had power.

The Jerome Elks Lodge is situated on a pretty spectacular golf resort which it owns. It’s a pretty nice place. Oddly, the parking spots do not have running water because it’s all used to keep the course nice and green. The is no RV dump, either. Just electricity. You’d think they could have run a hose from one of their many spigots, but they didn’t. Wouldn’t even consider it. Still, it was good to be parked.

After a nice steak dinner, we gathered outside to watch the beautiful sunset. We stayed long enough to watch it morph into a spectacular thunder and lightning storm that was about 20-30 miles away. That’s a guess, of course, but it’s pretty flat here and we can see a long way.

That entire black cloud was lit up by many lightening strikes as we watched. Pretty nice stuff out here in the country.

This last photo is from this morning after everyone else in the park left. Just the golfers buzzing around, now. Later, we’re going to Twin Falls to look around. I checked, and there’s a Harbor Freight there and I desperately need to get Diane and high-tech fly swatter so she can quit arguing with them. We’ve learned that this if probably all flies from miles around come to visit. The bartender at the elks lodge told us that the fly population will expand greatly once the corn blossoms. Everyone sitting at the bar had their own flyswatters, but they wouldn’t give us one to use at our site. So, it’s off to town we go.

The day before yesterday found us parked in spot A4 at Emigrant Springs State Park. For some reason the folks who built the park, and a good one it is, were obsessed with the history about the migration west via the Oregon Trail. Everywhere you look in this part of the country there are reminders of the trials and tribulations of those who carved their way across this great country, seeking a better life. Seems to be the story of humanity in general, always looking for greener grass.

Reading the stories posted along the trail make me feel blessed that the only discomfort we suffered getting to this spot was the fleeting fear of the engine in our RV seizing up due to excessive heat. Kind of petty, huh? The original travelers in this area, I’ve learned, had to cope with cattle and oxen that wandered off in the night seeking greener grass. Sometimes they found them and continued on, but some got away for good. Consequently, those strays eventually found each other and formed one of the largest herds of cattle and oxen that freely roamed the Blues. That’s what locals call the Blue Mountains on which we are currently parked. Stories abound about the hardships suffered during the arduous crossing of the Blues. Up here the time of years means nothing because it’s always cold at night and hot during the day. When laying safely in our bed, however, one can only wonder why they didn’t anticipate the construction of I-84 and either put the park further away,nor convinced those guy with the bulldozers to carve the road out a little farther north. The traffic on 84 lessens at night, but it never stops. So many people travel it still seeking greener grass.

Yesterday afternoon, the other two members of our wagon train arrived after successfully scaling the treacherous twists and turns of Cabbage Hill from Pendleton to Meacham. That’s the hill that gave us a bit of concern two days ago. It’s also called Emigrant Hill.

I’ve got photos to share but cannot add them yet because I’m forced to use my iPad instead of my laptop. Sadly, the power cord has gone missing and it’s pretty dead at the moment. Adding photos require that photos reside on my iPad and not all of them do. I’ve got over 80,000 photos on my phone but they seem to be really slow getting to the iPad. Photos will come later.

Diane served a classic Labor Day Picnic yesterday … hotdogs, beans, potato salad, and watermelon … it was really good. Then we lit the portable fire pit and sat around talking until we’ll after dark. It’s a fun routine.

Today we are headed to the Elks Lodge in Caldwell, Idaho where we plan to spend a couple of days visiting with family. My brother, Jim, and his wife, Donna, live around there somewhere. Since our last visit they sold their house and bought a condo. We know where the old house is, but not a clue where the condo is. I figured they heard we were dropping by and kinda went off the grid to avoid us. Fortunately, their daughter, Steffani, and her husband, Bob, live in a location we know and will help guide us to the proper place.

We’re interested to see how Bob and Steff’s dog, Birk, and our little Max, get along. They are about the same size so we’re hoping they’ll have fun together.

The plan was to depart Meacham at 10:00 am. That didn’t happen. It was more like 11, but that’s OK. We’re on Retirement Time. We arrived at the Elks Lodge in Caldwell, Idaho around 4 or 7pm. I’m not really sure. I do know that we were all dinner hungry so we stopped by a place close by. Shortly after we got our menus Steffani called Diane to find out where we were. We had left Max in the RV where Steff terrified him by banging on the door to see if we were home, then she called Diane. We weren’t far away so they motored over to join us for supper. It was kinda funny that half of us ordered breakfast.

Today, Wednesday, Diane and I took Max to Bob and Steff’s so he could get acquainted with Birk while we visited with big brother Jim and his bride, Donna. We had a great visit and decided to call it quits when our discussion devolved into two old guys trying to help each other remember words and places related to our conversation.

Then we had to find a place to get bread and dessert for dinner at B&S’s. S cooked dinner for the entire bunch of travelers which was pretty nice, I’d say.

It was a great dinner. The dogs got along famously and are now fast friends (BDFF). It’s my understanding that they plan to write each other, to keep in touch. right now, Max is resting up for tomorrows trip to Jerome, Idaho.

We’re two days in to a trip that is scheduled to last for about six weeks and already it’s been a ton of fun. Really.

The first stop was Memaloose State Park near The Dalles, Oregon. It’s not far from home, a few hours, but that’s the way the trip was planned. Short driving days so Jerrie won’t get all tuckered out so quickly. He’s nudging 80 and is the only one on the trip who knows how to start the motor home so his well being is critical to a successful trip. During our two days here we met up with Cliff, Susie, Les, and Sophia who were tethered to power at The Dalles Eagle Lodge. We spent the day together and then they came to the park where we had dessert on the shores of the Columbia River. Well, it was almost on “the shores”. All that kept us from dipping our toes into the river where the salmon play was a very busy railroad track and a couple of steep gullies. The view was still magnificent and enjoyable as we visited on a fairly level spot behind the RV.

On this trip we’re pulling a 1/2 ton pickup instead of the little Equinox we previously had so doing that was an experiment of sorts. The RV is 35 feet long and the truck is 20 so we’re pretty long on the road.

The first time we hooked the truck to the RV was in the Fred Meyer parking lot in Scappoose. That’s where we rendezvoused after Diane went to the post office then to the gas station, and I visited the fuel station near home for a few gallons of diesel.

Not having ever hooked the rigs together turned out to be quite an education involving shifting the truck transfer case to neutral and disconnecting the battery. It only took three attempts to get the sequence right so it would tow properly. The first try revealed that the emergency brake was engaged on the truck. The RV could still pull it but it would have rubbed off the bottom halves of the rear tires. So, round two was better but the steering wheel on the truck was locked with the front wheels turned a bit to the right.

The third effort was successful because Jerrie read all the instructions and discovered how important it is to perform all the steps in the sequence provided. Doing so makes things a lot easier.

Then, we were off. Getting on to Highway 30 was not a problem. Things went very smoothly all the way to Pendleton where we stopped to top off the RV tank at the Wildhorse Casino east of town. That’s just before I-84 heads uphill into the Blue Mountains, a trip I knew was going to be slow.

Not only was it slow, but the added weight of the truck caused the diesel to run hot and the “Check Engine” light to shine brightly. We were over halfway to the top when that happened so Jerrie made the decision to push on to the finish line. Stopping, he felt, would just prolong the agony of wondering if the rig would catch on fire.

It didn’t, and as the Highway leveled out, the “Check Engine” light went out and the engine temp went down quickly. Things were looking up. There was hope for a successful trip after all. We smiled at each other and did a couple of high fives while sitting at a turnout, waiting to see if anything would happen. Nothing did.

At this point we were only a few miles away from Emigrant Springs State Park, our destination where we will spend the next two nights as we wait for the remainder of our convoy to arrive. While waiting we’ll visit the village of Meacham, Oregon. We need some glue to fix a couple of things.

Next entry will be from somewhere in Idaho.

Cheers.

I called Doug a few days ago and we talked for a while. Since the weather is going to be so nice for a while we decided to take our tired old bodies to the golf course for a little activity. Neither of us had touched a club in nearly 2 years so we felt it was time.

The first thing I had to do was dig out my bag of clubs and find my shoes. Last time I saw them they were in the garage. I actually looked directly at the bag but, some unknown reason, I got the one stored in our little shed. Yes, I have two bags of golf clubs and both are black. The one in the shed was the easiest one to extract so it’s the one I took. It’s been so long since I’ve golfed that I actually forgot the reason the one I got was in the shed. It’s the one I used to store all the extra clubs I’ve accumulated over the years and don’t use any more for one reason or another. Consequently, there are a lot of clubs in that bag.

I didn’t realize this problem until I was strapping the bag onto our cart at the golf course. While doing that I looked for a my driver, a Ping that belongs to Cedric, and a few other favorite clubs like the putter I like, and my 56 degree pitching wedge … stuff like that. They weren’t there. Instead the bag had an oddball assortment of 22 clubs, none of which I could use very well. But, I certainly had a lot of choices.

As you might have suspected, I didn’t do very well, but that’s not a surprise. I never do very well, and that’s OK. I have low expectations when golfing with Doug. He’s pretty good and I gave up trying to beat him many years ago. We just have a good time enjoying an occasional good shot, or putt, and move on down the road.

That was yesterday, and it was a good day.

I know, this is a little late, but I didn’t forget. Honest.

To celebrate this important event, Diane and I made a 5-hour round-trip to Albany, Oregon on Sunday to visit a little dog she found on the internet. We lost our last fuzzy family member a couple of years ago and she thought it was OK to look for another. I can’t call the new one a replacement because that’s hard to do. Dogs are different from each other in so many ways so you can’t just pick randomly. She’s been checking various animal shelters every day for a few months now so I knew this was coming. When she saw the photo of Max on one of her web sites it was a done deal before the adoption process was even considered.

After submitting answers to an incredibly complex questionnaire, I had no doubt we’d be making a trip somewhere soon. That was late last week. She got the call on Saturday to drive to Albany, Oregon for a visit with Max. Nothing wrong with a road trip. We’ve driven over 3 hours to destinations that were less important than this one.

The rendezvous location was at a Petco store, a public venue where random spies and snipers would have difficulty singling us out to prohibit a successful adoption . . .

Sorry. I’ve been reading a lot of spy stuff lately and it seems to have seeped into my unconscious thought process. Let me regroup a little.

It was a beautiful day for a ride and it was easy for me I’m just a passenger as I no doubt have explained many times before. I’m not allowed to drive, ever, when we go somewhere together, or I go alone, or if the weather is extremely bad. Like lots of rain, snow, stuff like that. I always find it humorous that she trusts me to drive in bad weather. At the same time, I’m honored that she trusts me in situations like that.

We arrived early for the meeting so turned back to visit a KFC we’d seen not fr away. We almost made it a whole block before spying an Arby’s, a place we like, but rarely get to visit. So KFC lost out to Arby’s. We ate our sandwiches then returned to the store to spend the next 25 minutes anticipating the meeting. You know, like, what if Max didn’t like one of us. Would we need to live separately to appease his fickle notions? Would he like us both, but one more than the other? That would create tension on the homefront, right? None of these possibilities were discussed because it was all in my head. Diane was pretty sure he was going to be great. She knew this as soon as she saw Max’s photo. She swiped ‘right’ for sure.

After visiting all the fish in the store, who were looking for a home, about a dozen times, we went to the car and sat there with the engine running so we could be air conditioned. Did I mention that the temp was in the high 90’s in Albany? Very warm. Not comfortable enough to be standing around on tired feet.

Finally the Foster Mom showed up and I recognized Max immediately. Diane had shown me the photo and I have to admit he was pretty hard to pass up.

We followed them into the store and approached with totally unnecessary caution. We didn’t want to scare Max, or seem to eager to take him home in case he found something wrong with us. Turns out he’s a totally nonjudgmental people person and climbed right into Diane’s arms. The ended the interview process.

While Diane took care of the necessary paperwork I trotted Max around the store, teaching him new tricks, then we stuffed him into our car and headed north. Turns out that riding in cars is one of his favorite pastimes. Just like driving cars is Diane’s favorite pastime. They were obviously made for each other.

Although it’s only been a few days since he appeared in our lives things have perked up around here. Being a kept man, it’s my job to take him for walks. Actually, one of Diane’s motives for getting him was to serve as one of my exercise machines that require a lot of walking. The other one is my walk behind mower. The difference is that I can control the speed of the mower, but not Max. He thinks it’s his job to stretch the leash to the breaking point or it isn’t fun. So far, as we’ve made the circuit around our block, he’s anointed every telephone pole and all but 3 of the brown yard debris containers people leave out, and there’re a lot of them.

Now, let’s talk about the water issue. He kinda loves it and seems very pleased that a creek is running through his new back yard. He also loves mud puddles. Being mostly white, that’s a problem solved by a quick rinse in the creek. He doesn’t just walk through the puddles. No, he stops, turns around 3 times, then lays down ensuring he gets the majority of his little body covered in whatever lives in puddles. Then I take him to the creek where he wades out far enough to cover about half his height, then he lays down, facing upstream, leisurely lapping the water headed his way. Thankfully, he rinses off nicely. That’ good because our chosen pet groomer can’t see him for another month or so. By then, he’s going to be a mess.

As you can see he’s very busy. What you don’t see is how fast he can run. He’s like the wind and likes to run willy nilly around the yard seeing how close he can come to people before dodging away to make another circuit. There’s no photo of this activity yet because we’re never ready for it. This is what he looks like when he’s done.

Then we go inside and he does a lot of this.

Then we go back outside and do it again.

You’d think it would get boring pretty quick but so far it hasn’t. He’s fun and funny and he’s our new family member. The proper name is Maximillian which looks better on paper but he’ll only ever be called Max. That’s who he is. I’m sure he’ll be appearing in future posts.

Time to stop, so I will.

Day 21 – April 29, 2023 – Seattle, Washington

Tied up around 0700 and begin the debarking process.

Diane reserved a couple seats on the 0845 airport shuttle that took a leisurely trip through downtown Seattle, just to show us what we were missing, I’m sure. We got to the airport about an hour later, checked in for our flight, got our overweight bags checked, flew to Portland, and Jeff & Jerrie picked us up.

It was a fun trip, but we’re happy to back in America.

That’s it, folks.