Small, but a community

Likely, California
The only place within at least 50 miles for Fritz to fill up with diesel.

The run from Bend to Reno on 31/395 is long stretches of lonely (but generally attractive) highway with a few tiny towns scattered at great distances apart. Here in the unlikely place of Likely, you could fill up with diesel (at a price), so long as you had your gas filler cap on the correct side. The four of us talked of the difficulty we would have living in one of these tiny, remote villages.
I do remember that I grew up in the small towns of Spur, Texas. The big City of Lubbock was 75miles (or almost 2 hours) away. There, everyone knew me, and I knew just about all of them. A preacher's kid, I had a prominent exposure as such, and I did try hard to not sully my father's reputation as the minister of a small, though generally liberal for the times, congregation.
I could walk to school, the grocery store and the post office. If old Mrs Alexander didn't answer her phones after an appropriate number of rings, then someone, or usually several ones, would immediately walk or drive over to check on her. If you were ill or injured, you would be quickly placed on the prayer chain as well as the casserole chain. There was no wait for a seat at the soda fountain in the drug store or in the restaurants (both of them).
I could go just about anywhere, anytime safely. This included both the town and the surrounding countryside. The schools were marginal in comparison to my children's schools, but I could "make" just about any sports team or instrumental group for which I cared to try out. The library was within walking distance of everyone except those who lived in the country. There were certainly gaps in my education, but in the end it really did not make any difference. I had the opportunity to know the local lawyer, dentist, businessmen, teachers and doctors on a close basis, planting the early seeds of what I would later become.
Almost every night I could step outside and see that view of our solar system we call the Milky Way. Meteors were common, and at the right time of year you could see dozens of them late at night. There always seemed time, if not always money, for whatever I wanted to do.
I am not volunteering to move to a tiny, remote town, and I know there is a lot of nostalgia here on my part, but on reflection I don't feel too sorry for these citizens; it's a trade off. With modern transportation and the Internet, the isolation is not what it once would have been. In such a place, you are part of a single society. What happens to one affects all. There is a community of individuals, and you have to maintain a certain degree of respect and charity for everyone, something perhaps more difficult in the urban milieu.

The best planning . . .

Well, as you can see, the trip has not been exclusively balmy weather. Yesterday we headed south out of Bend on 97, then veered southeast on 31, and picked up 395 which goes through Reno, where we will catch I-80 and head home. We stayed in the unlikely town of Likely, California that night. Before nightfall we had a brief snowstorm, a sure sign it was time to move south.
The also means that this travel blog is approaching its end. I anticipate perhaps one or two more post (was that a sigh of relief I heard?) See you on the web.

It's the journey, not the destination

Mount Thielsen, Forest, and B&D's Airstream

We have been fortunate to have lots of sun and warm weather since leaving on this journey. We have also had some beautiful drives when relocating our rigs. The drive from Ashland to Bend was one such day. In this picture that Barbara took through the windshield of our motorhome, towering above the forest, is Mount Thielsen. At 9,184 feet, it stands out in this range of mountains. This is a volcano, and the peak is actually the old magma core, harder than the surrounding lava flow which has eroded away. It is know as the "lightening rod" of the Cascades. It has received so many strikes, and strikes of such intensity that the rock at the top has melted.
After 4 days in Bend, we will start the journey home, heading south for Reno and then I-80 westward to home. This has been a great sabbatical; I am almost missing work!

A High Point in the High Desert

It seemed that much of what we did in Bend was just "hang out," though there is actually a lot to see and do that we had to save for the next trip.

Our RV park was one of the nicest we have had, and it was such a peaceful environment it was hard to get up and get going.

The High Desert Museum was highlighted in all the guidebooks, and even at ~$30/person is was quite an experience. It combines outdoor and indoor space including a great wildlife exhibit, a historical hall, a "living" settler home, and a partially reconstructed early lumber camp and sawmill.

There were many excellent sculptures set in naturalized settings through the grounds. As well as this cast fish jumping in the stream, there were numerous species of living trout in the waters of the museum.

















A highlight for us however was a blown glass exhibit(click here for link). This artist was commissioned by a friend (obviously one with money) to create a series of glass vase sculptures reflecting the living things one would see during a walk in the woods. The exhibit was truly astounding.

Always have a book . . .

There was chance to meet an accomplished man when I was young, probably around the age of 12 or 13. This gentleman credited much of his success to his habit of taking every opportunity to read. It had started when he was in the military and found himself to often be waiting for things to happen. He always had reading material, a paperback, a magazine or paper, with him. When waiting in a line, traveling, or otherwise unoccupied, he would pull out his book or whatever and read.
It has been my habit since hearing him talk to try to never find myself in a down moment without something to read. Indeed, I look forward to travel as a time for uninterrupted reading. The long delays in airports these days in some ways I look forward to for reading time.
On this trip, I have not had a great deal of down time for reading. (I'm always working on this darn travel blog it seems!) I will share with you those for which I have so far had time - in no particular order:

Cosmos, Chaos, & the World to Come; The Ancient Roots of Apocalyptic Faith by Norman Cohn

Gilead by Marilynne Robinson

Blood Meridian; or The Evening Redness in the West by Cormac McCarthy

Lost in the Cosmos by Walker Percy

Ideas and Opinions by Albert Einstein edited by Carl Seelig

A primer of Freudian Psychology by Calvin Hall

Lost in a Good Book by Jasper FForde

Labyrinth by Kate Mosse (currently reading)

Mama Mia, Now That's Italian

John, Dino, and Barbara
In front of Dino's Ristorante italiano

I am regressing just a bit here. After so many seafood meals on the coast, we were ready for a change when we turned inland for Roseburg (see the Umpqua valley post.) We did some research and decided to try Dino's Ristorante Italiano in downtown Roseburg. It seems people love it or dismiss it, with a clear majority on the positive side.

We found the food excellent, though maybe I've had better (at home of course!). The critical factor here is Dino himself. Dino and Debbie live in Italy on and off over the years. They study the foods, work in kitchens there and bring back new ideas and spices for cooking.

Dino himself took care of our table, and the banter was continuous:

Bill: Are you Dino?
Dino: That's what I answer to.
Bill "Is this your place"
Dino: "Of course. If it wasn't, I would have been fired 10 min ago."
Bill: "Probably 30 min ago!"
Dino: "Maybe, but you got to put up with me if you're going to eat tonight, so we're both stuck."

In the end, the food was exceptional, the service was entertaining, and it was certainly a memorable evening.

We are such stuff . . .

Ashland Oregon is a nice, small college town with a significant added factor; The Oregon Shakespeare Festival (click for info). This repertory institution occupies a 3 theater complex positioned right in the heart of the colorful Central district, located behind these buildings on the main street of Ashland.
We knew we would be in the Ashland region, and had secured tickets for a performance of Shakespeare's farewell masterpiece The Tempest; generally accepted as his final self-written play, and also considered one of his best. The Elizabethan Stage pictured here is an open roof theater, and we fortunately had clear blue skys.
The Play started just as twilight darkned. This marginal picture perhaps gives one a feeling of our position in the middle of the balcony; really quite good seats.
I certainly cannot claim to be knowledgeable about Shakespeare (though he does seem to have said pretty much anything that was important about anything of worth talking about.)
In the Tempest, the Bard certainly seems to be saying goodby:
Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits and
Are melted into air, into thin air:
And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on, and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep. ( "The Tempest" (4.1.138-48))

The definition of Blue

"Wow!" That's the most common comment heard as someone first approaches the view of Crater Lake from the rim. I said it my self again.

Barbara has been here three times; I have been here twice, and Bill and Dana were here for the first time. Its impact does not lessen with revisits. This is a view that's simply fun to share with other people.
We saw it was going to be a sunny, warm day, so we loaded up on picnic fare and headed up (we staying near Ashland at 1,300ft elevation, and the rim is 7,100 ft.)

Stories and pictures of the deep lake and its famous blue water do not prepare one for their first breathtaking look from the brink of this 6 mile wide caldera which was created by the eruption and collapse of Mt. Mazama almost 7,700 years ago. (Click here for a very nice geological description of this event)
The blue background to the tree branches in the third picture is not the sky - it's the water!
I'm just thankful that there are not a bunch of motels, condos and homes ringing the rim as one sees at places like Lake Tahoe. There are efforts underway to also designate Crater Lake National Park as a "Wilderness Preserve," limiting additional development of campgrounds, hotels, restaurants and other facilities that would otherwise add a bit of comercial air as exist at some of our other national parks. Seems like a good idea to me.