Irma; Mt Hood; Boring and Mossyrock; Ft Lewis; RODEO! Serving Spirit Class Tacoma; Olympic National Forest; Heather the Slayer

Tacoma, Washington - actually Joint Base Lewis-McChord, formerly known as Fort Lewis and McChord Air Force Base - is our new home for almost three weeks. We are in a pleasant campsite alongside American Lake, with daytime temps in the high 60s, lows at night in the 40s, much better than the 90s our friends back in Florida have to contend with in the aftermath of Hurricane Irma. Our thoughts and prayers go out to everyone effected by that terrible storm. 




Our house in The Villages survived without damage, in large part thanks to our great Navy and sailing friends Anthony and Annette Baker, who are staying in our house until power is restored at the marina where their beautiful trawler Magnolia is moored. Thanks, guys!!!

Even during catastrophes, one can find instances of humor... this photo of a golf cart in The Villages whose owner had driven into a flooded tunnel made me laugh - no one was injured, except perhaps the owner's pride. What was he/she thinking???














We had a nice stop in Portland, Oregon, at Mt. Hood, where MLB decided to go backpacking overnight for a spiritual experience. I packed in 4 miles with her to make sure Burnt Lake lived up to the glowing remarks that a USFS ranger had given us, helped her set up camp, and then hiked out to enjoy some Pinot Noir with Rudy and Gretchen. You can see that Suzanne is loving her spartan accommodations (my cozy one-woman tent).

Burnt Lake (in Mt. Hood National Forest) is a lovely hiking destination, wooded all the way to the shore, with room for only 4 campsites (flat spots are in short supply). The fish were safe from my predation -  I didn't have room in my pack to carry my fishing rod and hand grenades... 

The view of Mt. Hood from the lake is stunning. After a handful of dayhikers departed, Suzanne had this lake all to herself until mid-morning the next day. She had a can of bear spray, but didn't need it. (I waited until the next day to tell her about the cartoon someone had sent me with a tent in the woods surrounded by 15 bears - the conversation bubble from inside the tent read, "Sweetheart, you have to stop thinking that every noise you hear here in the woods is a bear."









The following day, I hiked back in to Burnt Lake to help her pack out tent, stove, sleeping bag, air mattress, extra food, first aid kit, camp chair, etc... I was happy that she had such a great time in the wilderness so close to Mt Hood (11,250 ft.). We had planned for me to get a 4-day backpack around the mountain on the Timberline Trail, but when we arrived at our campground in Mt Hood Village, our 42 ft coach wouldn't fit in the 38 ft space they had assigned us (this is after making a reservation last December). Because this was eclipse week, all of the nearby campgrounds were full, so we had to relocate for five nights to a county CG in Boring, Oregon. Then for the eclipse itself, we had to drive to Mossyrock, Washington, two hours away and outside the totality cone. Mossyrock and Boring - You can't make this stuff up. Mossyrock homeowners do like their privacy; this former Marine states it plainly: "Trespass at your own risk" and "Come in peace or leave in pieces!"



Our next stop was Tacoma, where Suzanne just completed another Serving Spirit class - the event was filled with 50 wonderful, enthusiastic students, several of whom are old friends to whom Suzanne had given readings or who had attended workshops she had given. Thanks especially to Heather McKay's daughter Tatelyn (far left) who helped Suzanne both days, allowing me to hike and spend more time with Rudy and Gretchen. (See last paragraph below for more info on Heather the Slayer...)


One night MLB said, "Ty, git on yer jeans and boots... we're a-going to the rodeo!" (Well, it was something like that.) We arrived at the Washington State Fair in Puyallup and enjoyed the bronco and bull-riders (all men - Suzanne's favorites) as well as the barrel racers and flag riders (all women - my favorites - gee, I wonder why???). 

It was a fun evening; I almost looked cowboyish in my jeans and tee-shirt, but without the real Justin boots, fist-size belt buckle and Stetson hat, it was apparent that I wasn't ready for bull-riding. MLB looked much more authentic. I offered to take her on the Twirling Teacup ride, but she declined...












Another evening found us on the shore of Puget Sound in Steilacoom, only a few miles from Ft. Lewis. This used to be a sleepy little ferry town, a suburb of Tacoma. Now, with the flood of people and money into Seattle for Microsoft, Google, Amazon and other tech-related firms (100,000 new residents in the past year), prices have skyrocketed, and Steilacoom is a highly desirable place to live.







Rudy and Gretchen got to meet two other long-haired Dachshunds while in Steilacoom. "Rudy, get your nose out of her butt!" 

Ft. Lewis has a great view of Mt. Rainier (14,410 ft.), and tons of hiking opportunities. Unfortunately, our coach has had more than its normal share of maintenance "issues" this summer, which has kept me from my normal 3-4 day long backpacking trips. Repairs to the following equipment have been completed: front end alignment, new steer tires, air compressor, dash air conditioner, roof air conditioner, interior door frame, refrigerator door, and even the car air conditioner... sheesh, I should have trained to be an RV repairman!

We did get up to Olympic National Forest for a dayhike on the Lower Skokomish River. This time we took Rudy and Gretchen in their backpacks (canine hikers are not allowed in National Parks, but are welcome in National Forests). The river is beautiful, massive gravel bars left from the many glaciers that covered the area until cave men started driving SUVs with stone wheels...











This Douglas fir (Pseudotsuga menziesii) had fallen across the trail, which was then relocated around it - a smart move, since it's over 200 feet long. (They can grow to 250 feet in height and 8 feet in diameter, and may live over 1,000 years.) You can just make out Suzanne at the far end of the tree if you look real carefully.

While at Ft. Lewis, MLB decided it would be a good idea (at this point I cringed) to get a personal trainer to help her with specific exercise goals. I thought, "Yeah, she's going to get some 6' 4" Norwegian stud named Lars with pecs the size of my thighs and run off to Oslo..." Well, imagine my surprise when she said, "Ty, I found this cool gal named Heather who will help us both get in shape!" (My imagination ran wild...) So, we go to the gym to meet Heather. I am thinking she's an impressionable young gal who will be impressed by my running prowess and suave, debonair manner... we meet, and learn that Heather is a former USAF military policewoman, military police dog trainer, parachutist with 200 jumps, and is married to a Green Beret.  Heather has a degree in Exercise Physiology and Nutrition (called Exercise Torture by some) and is also contracted by the Army to train (in her own words "destroy") young Special Forces soldiers physically so they can pass their tougher than nails PT tests. She is 4' 11", about 90 lbs, and a very tough hard body! Our first weight workout was TWO HOURS LONG!   I AM DOOMED!!! 

Birthday Girls; Lassen Volcanic National Park; Crater Lake National Park; A 9-11 Reminder; Rogue River; Wieners in Bags

We are now about two-thirds of the way through our 2017 Messages of Hope Tour. Recently Suzanne flew back to The Villages to celebrate her mom Ruthie's 90th birthday (and her own xxth, since they share the same date of birth, August 1st. There was a big celebration at Ruthie's place, with 60 or so revelers whooping it up with her and the family. There were two delicious cakes, and when asked which one she would like, Ruthie exclaimed, "Well, both, of course!" (That's our Ruthie!) Here is a shot of the lovely birthday girls...











While My Lovely Bride was back in FL, the puppies and I spent a week at Lassen Volcanic National Park. We would have gone home as well, but as Suzanne was flying next to Denver for an IANDS event, and airlines don't allow one person to travel with two dogs, we had to stay behind with the coach in California. Lassen is a dormant volcano with steaming fumaroles, beautiful mountain lakes, thick woods, and 150 miles of trails. Because it's pretty far from major cities like San Francisco, there were far fewer turistas than one would find in Yosemite or Grand Canyon.








I got my fill of hiking that week, completing six trails, one prettier than the next. The woods were more like Colorado than Oregon or Washington, where the undergrowth and trees tend to be much closer together. Here, open spaces between the trees allowed for more open vistas and the ability to go off-trail when desired.

The creeks and streams were running fast with snowmelt, unusual for August because of the heavy snowfall that the Cascades, Sierras and Rockies received this past winter. (Sorry, Al Gore, that the actual weather isn't fitting in with your global warming doom and gloom predictions...)

My only big wildlife encounter was this cinnamon black bear that crossed in front of me about 60 feet away. Obviously he was in a hurry to go somewhere, because he didn't stop to introduce himself...













As always, I enjoyed the scenery and serenity of the wilderness in Lassen. This lake was all mine for an hour or so until another hiker appeared, but thankfully, he wasn't nearly as noisy as the birds and insects around me...

I departed Lassen to meet Suzanne in Eugene, Oregon, where she would be flying in from Denver. We celebrated her birthday at a very nice riverfront restaurant in the city. I made a point of sampling one of the Willamette Valley Pinot Noirs, and it was excellent.

Our next stop was Crater Lake National Park- it's the deepest lake in the US (1,946 ft). It was formed when a super-volcano, Mt Mazama, erupted and blew apart about 7,700 years ago, when My Good Friend Bob was only a teenager. Fed only by snow and rain, Crater Lake is extraordinarily pure and is deep cobalt blue in color. Here is MLB on the trail to Mt Garfield above the rim of the caldera - what a view... and the lake ain't bad, either.










This was the highway to and from Crater Lake - miles and miles of trees, trees and more trees. No urban sprawl or traffic around here! You had better have filled up your gas tank early, because it's nuthin' but woods for miles and miles.

During our Crater Lake visit, we stayed in a campground in Prospect, Oregon. Walking by their small fire house, we noticed the sign on this fire engine - it reads, "This truck was at Ground Zero on Nine Eleven." For some people, I guess, 9-11 is a distant memory. Since both of us experienced that day closer than most Americans, we may appreciate better the significance of that sign, and the sacrifices of the first responders and other victims it recalls.










Exploring the area, we found a beautiful waterfall on the Rogue River after an easy hike through the woods. The drop down to the river was much more challenging...

















Some of the boulders in the Rogue here are as big as small houses. The river was not running very high - I can only imagine how impressive it must be in June when snow-melt is at a peak.

A side trip to Silver Falls State Park near Silverton, Oregon, gave us a different perspective on mossy trees... this is the "crown jewel" of the Oregon State Park system, and the largest of the state parks in the state. 













We decided to bring Rudy and Gretchen with us, and were restricted on the trails we could hike, but we enjoyed their company immensely. They rode comfortably in our backpacks, and never once complained. They were safe and snuggly back there, and got to see the world from a higher perspective than usual... 

Camp SLO; Paso Robles; California Events; Guilty Dogs; Lodi; Wine! Kayaking; Robbed Again

We spent a night at Camp San Luis Obispo, a National Guard base where captured Italian POWs had been interned during WWII. One of them, PFC Salvatore Fossati, of the 15th Ordnance Company, was a stone mason, and designed and carved this stone monument during his internment. It is called the Italia Rock.

Next stop, Paso Robles for- YES! Wine tastings! "Paso" is world-renowned for its Zinfandels, but has other varietals as well. We pulled into an unnamed vineyard and parked out back. MLB said, "Ty, what a quaint tasting room!" Fortunately, they had a nicer facility out front... 

Our server at Turley Vineyards was Haylee Sund, the daughter of an active duty Navy captain, and she was a delightful hostess and very knowledgeable about their wines. In fact she is studying viticulture at Cal Poly in San Luis Obispo. We joined the Turley Wine Club, primarily for their exceptional wines, but partly becuse of Haylee's friendly personality.













One of the less known problems related to drinking Zinfandel is that you can actually shrink in a matter of minutes, as this photo proves...

Suzanne has been busy with events in Camarillo, north of Los Angeles, and another in San Jose. She is also working on another book, and is as busy as a one-armed paperhanger. This is a photo of her San Jose class - what a great group!

This class was held at Dolce Hayes Mansion, a beautiful facility often used for spiritual events. The pups particularly liked all the squirrels in a nearby park.















We stayed at the Elks Lodge RV facility in San Jose, near a beautiful suburb called Willow Glen. Houses here go for $1-2 million, even for a remodeled 1950s 1,200 sq ft ranch. This is one of the nicer old houses in an area where we often walked Rudy and Gretchen.

Speaking of our little darlings, we came home one day to find their plastic treat box on the floor - torn open and empty. I had made the mistake of leaving it on the counter where Destructo Dog Rudy could  climb up from the couch and get to it. I read them both the riot act when we returned. Don't they look guilty and remorseful?














Normally I will reward My Lovely Bride for her hard work by letting her out of the galley (kitchen) once a month (I am a very thoughtful husband). This month was Italian. The local Pizza Hut was booked, so after the San Jose event we went to Vin Santo's, a pretty classy place with tablecloths in Willow Glen. (Guys, for some reason women really like places with tablecloths, preferably not stained with stale beer).

While in Lodi, we went kayaking on the Lodi River, a delightful paddle. When we pulled our boats, we met a young woman at the boat dock, whose name is Abba (yes, named for the group). She invited us to hear her play the fiddle at the farmer's market that evening. We showed up after dinner, but found that she wouldn't be playing until an hour later, and we were melting because the temp was 104F. But we will look for Abba next time we're in Lodi.















Our next stop was Sacramento, where MLB would be boarding a jet bound for Florida. Just an hour before I was to take her to the airport, I found that our mountain bikes had been vandalized, and major parts stolen, including a front wheel and fork, stem, and bike computers, probably by one of the hundreds of homeless men (AKA bums) who hang out in the area. After dropping Suzanne off, I returned to file a report, and got to meet one of Sacramento County's finest, Deputy Nelson. While filling out the paperwork, I mentioned Suzanne's work. The deputy was interested, so I gave her some information and Messages of Hope, and later mentioned to MLB that Lacey might be emailing her. There was a pause, and I heard her say in a questioning voice, "Lacey? Lacey?" I quickly replied, "Oh, um, Deputy Nelson!"  (Sheesh... sometimes women have no sense of humor...)

Late Entry: Nellis AFB, Red Flag and Thunderbirds; Santa Barbara Event; Vandenberg AFB; Port Hueneme; Basket Boats??? Hula Babes

I must apologize to all my Air Force friends for omitting two entries from our BSPFT (Brief Stop for Physical Fitness Training) at Nellis AFB in Las Vegas... the first is for our good friend Bill Bayer, who is a retired USAF Lieutenant Colonel air battle manager ground control intercept (GCI) weapons controller. That's the guy who vectors our fighters to intercept enemy aircraft or to drop bombs on the bad guys just a mile or two away (that's called close air support, or CAS.) Bill had been stationed at Nellis, and spent a lot of time working out of this building, and also in the 120F desert, usually without air conditioning and cold Sam Adams.  Red Flag is the Air Force's premier air-to-air combat training exercise. Think of Tom Cruise in Topgun for the ACM (air combat maneuvering) part, but the Air Force has 75,000 square miles of airspace to play in over the Nevada desert. (That means if they have to bail out of their aircraft, they can land near a casino or Mustang Ranch for R&R... but I digress.)  Bill also was part of the 4477th Test and Evaluation Squadron that flew Soviet (that's what they called the Russians back during the Cold War) MiG-17, -21 and -23 fighters as aggressor aircraft against our fighters.


Nellis is also the home of the Air Force's Thunderbirds, a group of high performance fighter aircraft and pilots who try to emulate the Navy's Blue Angels. (I may not be invited back to Nellis after this blog post... sigh...)  Okay, actually the Thunderbirds are really hot s..t pilots as well!







Now, back to California... this serene sunset scene was taken at Seal Beach, where several hawks were often found in the branches of these trees, on the lookout for a meal provided by unwary ground squirrels.













Up the coast past Los Angeles is Santa Barbara, a thoroughly delightful city about 100 miles northwest of LAX. And it only takes about two to seven hours to get there from the city of the angels, depending on traffic. Did I mention earlier that L.A. traffic is insane, day or night??? We stayed at an Elks Lodge RV park in Goleta, just west of Santa Barbara, where Suzanne gave her Transformative Power of Hope presentation to an enthusiastic group of attendees at an International Association of Near Death Studies (IANDS) meeting at Unity of Santa Barbara. Thanks to Barbara Bartolome for sponsoring Suzanne and to her husband Victor for his interest in our RV; hopefully we will see you two on the road soon in your own motor coach! (Basketball fans may recognize Vic's name; he played center for the Golden State Warriors back in the 70s; at 7' tall, Victor is an imposing guy - I felt like a dwarf standing next to him.)



We then motored up to Vandenberg AFB for a week of camping near the beach. This peaceful setting, like the one from Seal Beach, has an almost invisible hazard... well, the tide rips and cold water are a problem for many, but not nearly as deadly as...














... this warning sign suggested...  Yes, great white sharks (Carcharodon carcharias) are not uncommon here, as this area is home to seals and sea lions, which make a high fat banquet for these apex marine predators. (I decided not to swim at this beach.)















We did go for a nice walk on this beach, however. But what's with the jackets in July? Oh, I forgot to mention that this area is quite chilly, with the cold water California Current flowing just off the beach with 57F temperature water and upwelling of nutrient-rich sediments that provide nourishment for fish, such as sardines, mackerel and tuna. Nighttime temps at the campground were in the 50s, perfect sleeping weather, and daytime highs rarely got to 75 while we were there.








After Vandenberg, we relocated to the Port Hueneme SeaBee (Naval Construction Battalion) base near Oxnard. It's right near some major marinas where the pups, being docks-hounds, like to walk. Back when they were much younger, Suzanne was walking them down a pier when Gretchen discovered parts of a dead fish. She scarfed up a piece, but then spit out a pretty disgusting fish eye... even our puppies have their limits. 











In this marina were several interesting yachts, but what really caught my eye was a Vietnamese basket boat stowed upside-down beneath some kayaks. Navy sailors who spent time there will immediately recognize the unique shape and design of these tiny self-propelled fishing boats, often found miles offshore, with one or two fishermen or women using simple hand lines. A mother boat will often drop dozens of these boats in prime fishing areas, and return hours or even a day later to pick up the fisherman and his catch. At night, it was not unusual to see the dim flicker of a Bic lighter a hundred yards or less ahead of your ship, requiring an instant course change to prevent running the boat down. This was the first basket boat I had seen since 1973 when I did my last deployment to Vietnam. 

This boating photo requires some explanation. I have seen bicyclists, horseback riders and skateboarders using their smart phones, but never a kayak fisherman... maybe he's checking a fishing app for the best bait to use???








It's too bad that we had already filed our income tax return back in April, because fer sure I'd have gone to Eddie for my tax advice had we been in Hollywood Beach... hey, who needs a last name, or some high-falutin' corporation name? Just ask for Eddie!!! "We find money others miss".

Finally, frequent readers may recall Hula Babe, the sexy little number that our dear friends Sharon and Joyce gave me last year. (Hula Babe is Al Gore-approved - solar-powered, non-polluting and low-maintenance). When I saw a dozen of her cousins in a marina store window , I wanted them all, but alas, the store was closed, so Hula Babe won't have any friends to join her in the coach while MLB is on travel...  sigh...