040827.1047 Bretram’s Brewery, Salmon, ID.

I can stop going to breweries any time I like. In fact, I’m thinking next week I won’t go to any at all! But today, I’m having breakfast at the brewery. Found a “Rocky Mountain Brewing News” that lists breweries in ID, MT, NV, as well as WY and CO – not sure if I mentioned but I’ve been working from one of those for the Pacific Northwest. Gives me something entertaining to do. Once I get over the residual bit of guilt at drinking in the middle of the day, that is. When I was in Seattle with Chris, we went to dinner at an oyster place and had a dozen different bivalves, local and distant. They were all fresh, some I liked more than others but I can’t rightly recall which was which.

Spent last night in a beautiful, deserted campsite just over the border from Montana into Idaho. Lost Trail Amber Ale – I don’t usually like light ales, but this one is very good. Guess I’m a sucker for sweet. Pale Ale – Not horrible, but not my favorite. I guess for a pale ale I like it. Mt. Borah Brown Ale – tastes sort of meaty. Summer Ale – not so much. One of those that I don’t have to finish, that US beers seem to be patterned after. Sacajawea’s Stout – this is the town where the indian guide was born, apparently. Didn’t see the history sign. But that’s a nice smooth stout. Hazelnut Ale – well, it’s really hazelnutty. I kind of like it, not too strongly sweet, good to mix with some food. And I don’t actually like hazelnut all that much. It calls it a “drink for lovers” – perhaps I’m guilty as charged Savage India Pale Ale – yep, very hoppy. “Loads of hops were traditionally used in this style of beer as a preservative while it was shipped by sea from Britain to India.” Huckleberry – saved this for “dessert”. Eh, it could be a little stronger, but I do taste the huckleberries. I guess the Amber was my favorite; I saved a little to try later. I’m also having a reuben – without sourkraut, what blasphemy – and fries with very nice spicy honey mustard. I haven’t been worrying all that much about the carbs since I’ve been hiking a lot and not eating all that much. Imagine I may have gained a few, tho at Burning Man I tend to lose a little, even past the water weight. A “Lewis and Clark” is buffalo, ham, and swiss cheese. Not quite a Howard Cosell. Not sure how far I’ll end up going tonight; kind of depends on where I find a campsite. What is today, Friday? Must be. So I could get to Black Rock tomorrow, or the next day, no matter. Like to see the city build; but at the same time a week will probably be plenty of time there. I’ve got the early pass to get in, which is nice. Maybe I’ll kill some time in Boise tomorrow shopping and such, and get out there Sunday Morning; not sure where that puts me to camp the night before but it’s a fair drive between the two. (040828.2008 Fernley) Last post before the playa!

040825.1103 Route 95, Idaho

Route 66 from Chicago to Los Angeles is/was around 2200 miles. I’ve driven about 3400 miles so far from San Diego.

(16:46)

Random road thoughts:

Trees exchange carbon dioxide for oxygen; the lungs exchange CO2 for O2. Trees look like inside-out lungs (trunk, branches, leaves).

We have devices to record sounds and images, why don’t we have any devices to record smells? And tastes? There was a lovely smell for quite a few miles back in Coeur d’Alene indian reservation that was like a sweet alfalfa; meant to stop and ask someone what it was but didn’t get a chance.

Why are waterfalls so captivating?

Stopped in to a store in Craigmont to ask if the road over to Kamiah (“kam-ee-yay”) was paved or gravel; and stepped on a cat’s tail (the cat was on the doormat, and it was bright outside and dark inside). It shrieked and ran off, and appeared to be fine, but I felt bad. Then on the way out of town I saw not one but two black cats playing in the fields. Snapped a picture of one; was prepared to hand out tuna if I saw another but didn’t. The other day on the iPod, The Black Cat by Edgar Allen Poe (read dramatically by Diamanda Galas, whoever that is) came on and I actually had a chance to listen to it; gruesome but rather over the top. I’m not superstitious, I just don’t like to be mean to animals.

The time has come for car computers. Those crummy navigation computers in some new cars strike me as ridiculous and overpriced; I’d like an embedded computer (I’d want a Mac, but the choice of Windows or Linux would be good as well) that displayed all the car’s functions, as well as functioned as a standard computer. No, not for while you’re driving; there could be a lockout on that or only allow the passenger to use the keyboard/pointer, but. Then I could use standard navigation software (I’m using Topo, which is barely adequate without the local maps, but very cool hooked to the GPS), my iTunes as the MP3 player, etc. And the screen could be a bit smaller than the 12″ one on the iBook, and still be fine. I’ve tried to engineer this before but can’t find a small LCD/OLED VGA monitor to use; everything else would be fairly simple; integrating it with the car a bit more of a challenge.

Bumper stickers seem to be mainly available in tourist shops, and most of those suck. Printing my own would be better, now that I know the secret of the magnetic sign material; but a display that goes in the back window would be even better (if more distracting). As we get more cheap OLED-type (other slow update would be better if cheaper/sharper) displays I predict we’ll see t-shirts and instant signs a lot more.

Why don’t gas pumps let me enter an odometer reading? Optional of course. But if I go back to the same station, why not have it calculate my mileage for me, as well, and print it on my reciept?

(20:30 Lolo pass campsite)

This is nearly the most perfect campsite I can imagine. I’m at 46,30 N 114,46 W if you’re playing along on the home game; but I can’t recall the name of the campsite. The camping area is practically deserted; my spot is level (with no big rocks in front of me!). It’s raining, but not hard so I have the sliding door open to listen to it; I’ve heated myself up some soup and am finishing off the fresh cherry tomatoes I bought the other day (good, tho the blueberries were even better). I’m listening to random iTunes; later I may watch a DVD or read a book. There’s a hot springs a few miles back if I want to take a little hike tomorrow morning, which at the moment seems like a great idea. Van is running well, and I spent the whole afternoon driving along a beautiful river in the rain, taking pictures. I could imagine being happier if someone special were here with me, but otherwise I’m on top of the world. And that at only 4,000′! Ooh, and I got to ford a tiny creek to get to this side of the camping area.

Wandering up to Missoula tomorrow, just because I liked it when I was there last; wonder if I can find a place to give me a flyfishing lesson (rain or none). Wonder if the Rhino pub is still there, or the indian place I had dinner.

040824.1856 Wolf Lodge West, Spokane WA

Today was a long driving day; I’ll probably run into Idaho tonight, already. Assuming that is, that I can find someplace to camp, or at least pull off the (ugh) freeway. It’s been raining all day long, some times a lot stronger than others. But before heading out I felt like having a decent steak. I considered sitting in the “Lounge” but it was way too smoky – again I recall how spoiled we are in California.

Earlier I mentioned the Democrats. The signs in Seattle were strongly Kerry, but as I headed into the backcountry they’re more and more Bush. I haven’t yet ridden up to Canada, but I suggested to someone that I might, just in case Bush-Cheney-Rumsfeld-Bin Laden family-Big Oil-etc manage to steal another election and I need to move there. I get a little annoyed by the demos, dragging out Jesse Jackson (tho I love his voice), Ted Kennedy, and Al Sharpton, as well as pandering to the unions, and the fear that they will start more expensive wasteful government programs (not that their opponents don’t). But my biggest concern lately has been the people that don’t vote. Apparently the R’s prefer to have as few people as possible voting; they not only like the election to happen on rainy workdays, but they block motor voter and voting holiday proposals. Not that I think the majority of people in the country is brilliant, but it seems like a democracy is better served if more people have their say in it. Frankly, every time I go to vote I’m a little confused; I don’t really know any of the local candidates, I vote knee-jerk NO on most proposals, and even the major candidates I tend to see benefits (and more likely, liabilities) of both, present presidential election excepted. And of course there’s the issue that in California most of the time the Democrats landslide, in which case I often place a protest vote for the insane Libertarians (you know I loved having the choice of Governor Mary Carey, Gary Coleman, and Larry Flynt). So please, if you’re reading this, just vote. You still have time to register if you do it, soon. If only to cancel out my own insanity. And if you’ve just moved to Florida, well, good luck with that, but you might as well vote anyway just in case they do count it.

When walking briskly or hiking, my pace is about 1000 paces per mile, which is easy to figure if I bother to count as I hike; don’t have a pedometer with me, probably should spring for the new SportBrain that displays paces right on the unit. I figured this out on the beach in Washington, walking along in the misty fog trying to find a manta ray carcass. Yes, I’m enjoying myself! I didn’t do a lot of hiking today, due to the rain, but I need to get out and practice so I’ll be in good shape for Ranger walking.

Need to give some consideration to what to do when I get back to “the real world”. Naturally, I haven’t managed to get much of any work done while on the road, tho the laptop is functioning fine. My thoughts at the moment are to start looking for an apartment or a sublet somewhere in central San Diego, then start working on the open source product(s) and/or job hunting, depending upon my inclination; I’m hoping I can put off the “encounter with stuff” in the storage unit for a while, but if I move in someplace I may need fridge and furniture, which are buried at the back of the box.

This place looked good from the highway; it’s a dark, ski lodge style decor with a fireplace and lots of steaks; I think I’ll pass on the “Rancher: A 24 oz Porterhouse & 20 oz of Sirloin! The 44 oz combination” even though it’s enough meat to last me for a week, at least. It’s a lot harder to pick a good place I’ve never heard of, than it is to stop at Outback (if I run into one), but I’m usually more pleased with myself for choosing the non-generic.

I’m wondering if I’ll be able to bother myself to journal at Burning Man this time. In the past I just couldn’t muster the strength till afterward, when I’ve decompressed into a journal while stinking up a restaurant in Reno. May not even pass through the Biggest Little this time. Still pondering the 100 miles of dirt road vs 200 miles of highway I’ve done before, between Winnemuca and BRC. Dirt roads don’t bother me that much, the van has decent clearance (tho about 3″ to short for big camping spot rocks, apparently…). Washboards are the worst, as well as quite common, especially in Mexico where they use a plow to level the road. The problem with washboards being they’re a lot more comfortable, and less damage to the car, if you go 40-50 than if you go 10-30, because basically you fly over the tops of the bumps rather than landing in each one; but you also lose most lateral and braking control of the vehicle. Should I keep this truck (still not sure) I’d like to be able to drive it on dirt roads in Mexico. I don’t notice any lasting effects of the big rock, tho an alignment probably wouldn’t be a bad idea at some point soon. I’m fairly bad at dealing with car problems as my first reaction tends to be to keep driving and hope they go away – which they often do.

Gave up on the weather station, they’re all too expensive and crappy besides; got a fine Radio Shack inside/outside temperature gauge, and the kite to tell me wind direction if it’s blowing (still sorta hope that having a kite at the ready will scare away the wind gods). I haven’t hooked in the solar panel yet, but the RS tempogauge also apparently tells me the level of the battery charge, which might be convenient. I’ve sort of figured out the fridge, which cools well on gas, maintains a temperature fairly well on battery, gas blows out while driving, battery drains in 4-6 hours when stopped, dead battery doesn’t affect other vehicle condition, battery charges in an hour or two of driving. And may or may not work when plugged in to AC. But my cooler is nice and cold and I’m good at choosing foods that don’t need to be cooled, for a week in the desert.

Am a little concerned about where I’ll sleep tonight; I certainly don’t need the services of a campsite most of the time, but the roadside rest areas suck because of noise – I may settle on one for tonight tho. Left my hot springs book back at Chez Hubbard, I believe. It’s still fairly light out, and I could drive for several more hours if I wanted to, but I’d sort of like to get a look at Coeur d’Alene in the daylight. Hubbard, by the way, tells a motel secret: refuse the first room you’re shown, especially in cases (like small places in Europe) where they take you up and show you a room. “I’d heard this was a nice hotel, but this room isn’t that great. Do you have anything nicer?” For the same price of course. Then again, he’s also an expert at sending food back if there’s anything at all wrong with it or if it isn’t precicely how he ordered it – he’s right that they should make it the way you ask, but I usually tend to just eat whatever is put in front of me.

Speaking of which. Mmph, steak and beans. Good thing I’m sleeping in the camper by myself, I guess. Even have a bit of steak left over to have with my eggs tomorrow – if I’d remembered to buy any eggs and they’d survived the refrigerator roulette.

040824.1202 Winthrop, WA – Winthrop Brewing Company

This is a cute little old-west style town with wooden sidewalks and decor. And yes, I’m at yet another brewery, trying a few of their samplers. Gotta keep those carbs up. Once I get over the fact that I don’t actually have to drink the entire sample glass, especially if I don’t really like the beer, I end up drinking about a pint. Oh, and a chili burger – yesterday I dined on snacks: leftover pizza slice, toast, Arco’s finest chips and cola and beef jerky, topped off by dinner of local blueberries and tomatos.

Jingle Bell Ale – “A dark amber, heavy bodied ale with a malty aroma. Has a good hop character with a spicy smooth finish”. Quite good.

Bushwhacker Ale – “A malty, dark red Ale with a lot of aromatic hops. Caution: It will sneak up behind you and slap you.” Smells really good; tastes okay, very hoppy (which I’m getting used to what that means).

Spent the night last night at a beautiful campsite along the Skagit river; had a fire (which seems to be mostly good for making my clothes all smoky) and woke up to a pattering of rain which had soaked my chair and wet down the remains of my firewood – “D’oh!”. Cleaned up camp and headed out – and ran over a big rock at the edge of the campsite – double “D’oh!”. Looks like I left a pretty decent sized dent in the spare tire pan and the front under-frame, but apparently no structural damage. Will probably have it looked at if and when I spot a VW mechanic. “If this van’s a’rockin’, I’m driving on rocks.”

(Rolling backward in time) Before I headed out of Seattle I stopped at the ur-REI store – quite large and impressive, especially the massive climbing structure that I wish I was able to try – maybe after dropping 30 more pounds or so I’ll have another look at the rock climbing.

Grampa Clems Brown Ale – “A dark brown, heavily boded ale with a toasted chocolate flavor and a soft smooth finish.” Not bad, fairly bland.

I didn’t try the Gruit Ale (yet) – “A 14th century ale of Europe, A favorite for at least 700 years. No hops added, instead a combination of three mild to moderately narcotic herbs: Sweet Gale (Myrica Gale), Yarrow, and Wild Rosemary. It is important to keep in mind the properties of Gruit Ale: It is a highly intoxicating 6% – narcotic, aphrodisacal, and psychotropic when consumed in sufficient quantity. Gruit ale: Stimulates the mind, creates euphoria, and enhances sexual drive. Should make an interesting winter here in the valley. Dark red, with plenty of body. The herbs are very aromatic, and pleasant. This is like no other ale. Give it three tastes, before you judge. Gruit grows on you.” Sounds like I need a couple of tankards to take to Burning Man! The chili burger’s good, too.

Also stopped at the boat store yesterday – I have this thing about looking for camping equipment at boat stores – and though I didn’t buy anything it was interesting due to a child being lost. They called 911 and ran around the store, and it turned out the kid was hiding under the clothes racks. We need wireless baby beepers that show parents direction and heading for their little ones – perhaps they’d be related to the EPIRB whose initials I don’t recall (Emergency something Beacon?) but should not need GPS, if your kiddo is that far away, they’re no doubt at a rave smoking crack and having sex.

“This is perfect, they have guns” – new customer assessment of this establishment.

Tombstone Barley Wine – “This, dark and malty. Just what your undertaker ordered, gives you the rest your body needs. Very smooth.” Smells wonderful. Tastes just a little like port, an amusing after-dinner beer. On Saturday night after a long day of touristing with Becke, went to dinner at the Rock Bottom just because it was the last place open, and I was far more impressed with the graphics – beer logos – than I was with the beer itself. This place has cool but not amazing logos; I’ve got to remind myself that I don’t need any more t-shirts (unless I start giving them away like mad).

Friday in Seattle, hung out with my friend Chris and his little girl, 13-month-old Beatrix. Beatrix gets two naps a day, morning and evening; their dog Roscoe gets three walks a day. Went with Chris to get a new hard drive and had no desire to look for anything else at the computer store (tho I did browse next door at the boat store, see above). Talked a lot about computers and websites and such; Chris is about to release Daisy Dry Goods, tho the “real” site isn’t up yet, he’s got the PHP working; they sell baby blankies and hats and other stuff, take a look in a couple of weeks.

Haven’t watched much of the Olympics; they’re on now and I can’t seem to be all that interested, I tend to prefer the winter Olympics anyway, more sports I’d like to be doing (speed skating, for example, not to mention the Modern Biathalon: snowboarding and air guitar, and of course the mixed doubles nude luge).

Becke flew in Friday night, and we had dinner and stayed with Chris and Karen. Karen is now working for the Seattle Reperatory Theater, and she works a lot, but they’re taking off next week for the San Juan islands, so she had a bunch of work to get over with. Chris made fantastic salmon with a soy sauce, butter, catsup and garlic glaze that I need to remember to ask for the recipie.

Saturday, Becke and I did the major Seattle tourist attractions: the underground tour which was good history but a little moldy to have to breathe; the waterfront for some clam chowder; Pike’s Place market (didn’t actually see them throwing any fish but the performance was still impressive); walked around in the rain because the monorail is out of service; and rode up the space needle. Chilled ourselves fairly effectively so we enjoyed the fire Chris had set up at home (apparently it’s now the end of summer). We took it easy the next day and went to brunch at the Broadway Grill in Capitol Hill.

Black Canyon Porter – “Dark, heavily bodied Ale with a mild roast flavor. A complex ale with a good hop finish.” Tastes like a porter should, tho not very carbonated it’s nice. They don’t have the Gruit, which is probably better for me.

I’m listening to the speeches from the 2004 Democratic convention, courtesy of the iTunes Music Store, on my iBook. I cannot imagine why anyone would vote for W again, but these people aren’t too bad; not a lot of emphasis on pleasing the unions; I’d still like to hear someone talk about spending less money in general, even though the Libertarians are insane.

After dropping Becke at the airport, went to dinner with Karen’s sister’s family, who live in a gorgeous house in the Queen Ann neighborhood and have two cute tho high-energy little girls. Lamb and port, and I slept well that night. After a little last-minute strolling around Seattle, ran up the interstate to the Cascades National Park, where I stayed last night. I recall a bunch of serious and somehwat heart-wrenching quotes from Chief Seattle, who I think witnessed the culmination of the european conquest of the natives; I forget where and what but need to remember to look them up.

This afternoon I’m off to the Grand Coulee dam, and maybe over towards Idaho.

040819.1651 Bainbridge – Seattle Ferry

Not a lot of time to write, the ferries here are quite efficient and we’re about halfway to Seattle, but wanted to note that it’s absolutely gorgeous and the view of the city is wonderous. Staying with the Hubbards tonight, and spending the weekend in Seattle as a tourist (sometime you’re a traveller, sometimes just a tourist)

(Now in Seattle) Enjoyed a variety of oysters and beer last night; have otherwise been enjoying the nice warm weather here and discussing programming with my friend Chris. More to follow.

040818.1044 Kalaloch Lodge, Olympic Peninsula, WA

Got a little bit of a headache going, woke up with that. Otherwise my campsite last night was beautiful – In a rainforest, beside a river, in a nearly deserted national forest campground 13 miles down a gravel road from the highway.

Spent most of the day yesterday just driving. Interesting scenery, but nothing compelling enough to stop me for long. In the little town of Westport I got to hear the daily announcement of winning fish – 150 lb halibut, for example must have been fun to haul in. Oysters didn’t sound appetising to me as I passed through Raymond – I’m also feeling a little queasy at the moment; could have to do with hardly eating yesterday other than potato chips and orange juice and – yes, it was what looked good out of the food cabinet last night – Spam. I don’t think Spam ever goes bad, but that could explain headache and upset stomach. And a day on the road, otherwise, isn’t especially great for the digestive system, tho usually I’m fine. Or maybe it’s the West Nile virus. As far as I can tell, the vitamin B is keeping the mosquitoes, which usually make a feast of me. Glad I got the window screens in the van, though, as I can open up fairly well but keep the bugs out; yesterday evening as I took a walk an especially persistant bee or yellow jacket or some other nasty took a liking to me and hassled me for about half a mile as I strolled through the otherwise peaceful rainforest.

Grapefruit, english muffin, bacon, coffee. And feeling about 90% better. I slept very well last night, actually, from just before dark, to just after sunrise. The beach in front of me is literally covered with driftwood, should make for a good after breakfast constitutional. And I’m trying to figure out the people at the next table, who appear to be speaking Russian or Ukranian (not sure if I’d know the difference but it doesn’t sound quite strictly Pa-russki) but the guy speaks English like a gringo and apparently the kids understand english but prefer to speak native. And had a little discussion with the surrounding guests about the benefits of stealing internet while travelling.

Aside from walking on the beach, I plan to take it easy the next couple of days, going up to the hot springs, and otherwise not spending all day driving. The latest buy-it bug – I seem to get these urges to buy stuff which either I resist and they eventually go away, or I go ahead and give in to and whether I like the thing or not, regret having less money and more stuff – is a cheapo weather station – especially temperature and wind speed – for the playa. I’m thinking a boat store will have one but it will be outrageously overpriced, or Radio Shack will have a piece of junk one. So maybe I’ll resist this time, but it is entertaining to surf random stores “on a mission” and get a break from the road. Turns out it’s italian – which I seem to have quite a hard time recognising – from the North rather than Emily’s Sicilian.

Yep, another walk would be good. There are lots of bicyclists up here – in fact they’ve been along the road the whole way, but more populous up here. Something I admire, but don’t quite aspire to – mainly, damn me, because of having to drag my stuff along with me. Maybe if I could find a trip where they pack your gear and you sleep in a motorhome or something – riding all day long then sleeping in a bag on a mat on the cold wet ground doesn’t sound great to me. Having meals prepared would be a good thing, as well – since I don’t seem to be that good at it if left to my own devices. I’m thinking I’m about 95% better now – it’s like a computer game where you rest up till your “health” is restored.

This would have been a somewhat different trip, if I’d taken the Pinzgauer, I think. To begin with, a day like yesterday where I spent the whole day in the car, would have been fewer miles and more tiring. About the same comfort level in the bed, but a lot messier and harder to get stuff arranged. And lots of yahoos to talk to – could be good sometimes, I guess, but I’m just as happy to be left alone. Then there’s the prospect of having spent hours trying to dig myself out, having gotten stuck in the sand in Long Beach, perhaps.

040816.1140 *$ NE Portland

Waiting here to meet a friend of Pamarie’s who she tells me is amazing and knows everything about Portland; I don’t know what she looks like other than she’s about 50, and I don’t know if she knows what I look like; and of course since this is *$ who knows if this is the one she was talking about or there’s one around the corner?

Had a great visit with the Cubbages – talked a lot about politics, and cars; more dispute on the latter subject than the former (I tend to like brutal, sturdy trucks; he likes muscle cars, Porsches, and the like). I’ve always been impressed at the level of the casual discussions there.

(040817.0905 Berry Patch restaurant, Ocean Park, WA)

I rolled into Portland on Saturday evening, and it was warm and humid, tho not too stifling. Britt Cubbage is a friend of mine from College; she’s now living in London with her husband Chris Jones (the name is Welch, not Witness Protection Program) and very cute and apparently brilliant child Ben. But over the years I’ve visited Portland a lot and become friends with her parents, as well, so it was good to see them. On Sunday we took a walk through a nearby park (which was verging on rainforest), and “Dad” took me around looking for car batteries (somewhat more fun than it sounds!). Then I headed downtown, to Powell’s Technical Books, Powell’s, “Trendy-third” street, and the Bridgeport Brewery. Which may have been the best I’ve been to so far, or maybe one or the other of the little ones was better, it’s hard to be sure in retrospect. But the beers were good, and the eavesdropping on other patrons was better, tho I spent most of my time on phonecalls back home. It’s still surprising to me that out on the coast and in remote areas, it’s a lot easier to get an internet connection, than it is to get my cellphone to work.

After visting with Debbie “Nose-to-the-grindstone” (sounds almost as if that could be a Lakota name) and having my oil changed (they would not understand why I was snickering about “Jiffy-Lube”, and I didn’t think I should try to explain it), I blew out of town and up to Astoria, arriving too late to visit the maritime museum, which sounds interesting; did pause to consider the fact that multi-millionare (that was impressive back then) John Jacob Astor founded the town at the mouth of the Columbia, known as the “Graveyard of ships” for the hazardous Columbia Bar; and later perished on the Titanic on an entirely different ocean. It would be entirely too obvious to report my results of trying to get a campsite at the Cape Disappointment State Park; I wasn’t aware till I passed through Long Beach that this is kite festival week. Kinda cool, even though it made accommodations more difficult; actually I didn’t have a bad time, I drove through town and lots of really really ugly trailer parks with wall-to-wall motorhomes, out to Anderson’s north of town which looked the same, but they found me a space back in a little grove of trees near the entrance to the camp that was very nice and very private and relatively quiet except for traffic on the highway nearby, which I promptly ignored. Had an inexplicably tasty Mexican dinner in town, took a walk on the beach and boardwalk where the kites had been. I’ll probably stop there again on my way through town this morning and do a little kite watching.

Which brings me here. I haven’t had a lot of success cooking for myself – even to the extent of opening cans and warming – I think because I prefer to sit somewhere I can have a little interaction with people. That, and despite a cabinet full of canned food, I don’t seem to have all that much that’s appetizing to me – that’s what happens when I clean out my cabinet and camping boxes that are filled with foods that sounded good when I bought them but I never bothered to eat then, so why should I suddenly decide to now.

Burning Man starts in just under two weeks; am thinking I may get there Saturday or maybe Sunday evening; I see Becke in Seattle next weekend; am looking forward to both, of course. In the mean time, I’m thinking I’ll make my way slowly up to Seattle, then next week maybe try to find a stream in Idaho to stand in and look as if I’m fly fishing.

040814.0954 Route 101 Restaurant, Florence, OR

Come for the wireless access point – stay for the breakfast! Or something to that effect.

Slept very well last night at the Eel Creek campground, just down the road from Spinreel, where…well, I’ll explain that in in minute.

After wandering hungry and aimless (more the latter than the former, but) through Coos Bay, I headed over the bridge and into the Oregon Dunes. I suppose it’s fortunate at this point that I didn’t have the Pinzgauer, as I might have been tempted to go out driving in them – and no off-road trip is complete without spending hours trying to dig yourself out of sand (or mud, or snow, or whatever), right? Instead I stopped off at Spinreel, one of the many quad and dunebuggy rental places along the dunes, and rented a four-wheeler for an hour. I would have chosen a little Oddessy-style dune buggy (as brother-in-law Dave points out, it’s amusing that Honda decided to recycle the name of their single-seat dune buggy, into a minivan), but the woman talked me into a quad, and it probably performed a lot better, given my size and the fact that they seem to have detuned the machines a bit to prevent speeding. But I had a really fun time. I still have some guilt about ruining the environment for the sake of a little sightseeing and some gravity play – tho the dunes tend to fix themselves fairly well, there was a fair amount of detritus on the beach from previous riders; and of course there’s the atmostpheric considerations. But it was still a kick. The “10-mile” road out to the beach (actually about 2 miles, I guess) was especially bumpy and mogul-y, and the beach was deserted and beautiful and cold and windy, so I headed inland to the dunes. I’ve driven on dunes before, in Jeep and Land Rover and once in my dad’s brand-new pickup (he felt he needed to get stuck, the day he got the truck!), as well as on motorcycles; the quad was a lot of fun tho I think I especially like a nice low-slung powerful dune buggy. Dune diving feels nearly identical to skiing, especially the g-forces as you go up and down and sideways over incredibly smooth slopes – and the geography is strangely similar as well, with islands of forest and moguls and tree-lined paths and wide flowing open spaces.

The woman there reccommended the campground down the road, which had about one single space left, that was flat and level and had a fire, uh, angle (two pieces of steel at an angle, with a grill on top), so I burned most of the wood I had left over from my surf scooter, and my two-week-old LA Times. Drank a few of my remaining beers (better that than let them explode in the cooler!) and fell asleep to the sound of a sprinkle of heavy dew on the roof.

Will be visiting my friends the Cubbages – Britt’s parents – in Portland this evening, and possibly looking up other friends-of-friends. Not sure why people are compelled to do that (I say this recognizing that I do the same thing): “Oh, you’re driving through Tumbolia? I have a friend there, you should give them a call!” then you get to meet total strangers, somewhat randomly, and all you have to talk about is your mutual friend. But what the heck – it’s a pretense for an adventure.

040813.1522 El Sombrero, Coos Bay

I find that if I go too long without food, as I tend to do on the road, I get a little dopey. I took the grand tour of Coos Bay without finding a single restaurant that sounded good to me, finally ending up back here. The place I went with Bill and Felicia was Lupe’s Casa (or Casa de Lupe) in Hamilton City, halfway between Artois and Chico. Looked like they were either overly optimistic building the place, or got very very busy sometimes – there was an entire other restaurant tacked on to the first. F tells me that it’s probably a little of both – for dinner most nights they open the main restaurant and close the room we were in, which is usually used just for breakfast and lunch. In any case it was good, I had a big flour tostada sort of thing. Here, I’m having the Chimichanga which often reads better than it tastes, but I need some grease to keep going. Will probably head a little way up the coast and find a decent campsite within reach of Portland, and end up there tomorrow.

Had a small incident with the fridge; one of the beers I had in it (keeping warm) popped and got beer all over; I knew that was what I was smelling when I pulled over; wasn’t bad and I’ve got paper towels and trash bags, but I really don’t need to carry beer with me, do I? Maybe I’ll make an attempt to polish off some of them tonight.

The coast is beautiful, alternating between foggy and sunny, and I’ve been getting out and walking on the beach and picking up rocks regularly – reference Lucille Ball in “The Long Trailer”. Per Eddie, perhaps I’ll catch-and-release them somewhere up the coast.

Am thinking that in a few days I may mail a package back to myself of stuff I’m sure I won’t need for the remainder of the trip, just to clear it out of my way; the Burning Man acoutremont (sp?) are rather bulky though.

Phone is working, for the moment, and I got email that way a little while ago. Decided that there’s a complex metric of how agitated I get about not having email: I think generally if I know I can’t get it I get only slightly more agitated day by day, to a limit where then I really don’t care; but if I attempt to get it and can’t, I get a lot more agitated. Wardriving is an amusing game but it’s annoying to have it be my primary method of connecting to the net. I imagine that in five years or less, this same trip may have broadband most of the way, though considering my phone coverage – or lack thereof – maybe it’ll take a bit longer. The “i” key seems to have somewhat improved, it appears – I know you were all anxious about that, as I was.

040812.1852 Humboldt Brews Taphouse, Arcata

The bartender tells me this is no longer a brewery, hasn’t been for three years, but it’s still listed in the brewer’s directory I got from North Coast. But I’m enjoying a “Six Rivers Sasquatch Strong Ale” which is dark and good. (p.s. I bypassed the Six Rivers brewery on the grounds that I would have just stopped to sample more beer, which would have been a little much at that point – but the ale was good).

The hot wings are hot, the beer is tasty (and cold), and the band is setting up, so I may be here for a little while. I was unable to find the phone number or address of my friend Rick Shull here in Arcate, but I can see how he’d like it here – lots of shiftless bums in the city square. The strong ale is strong, I’m realizing – but I’m not sure if it’s the one I tried yesterday at the brewery in Chico – not that much of a coincidence, I suppose, to have two tasty dark beers named after the Sasquatch (p.s. turns out the other one was “Bigfoot” – though remarkably similar!). Reminds me of camping with Ken and Todd, when Ken proclaimed that we’d drink enough Jagermeister to “see the stag” (but we only ended up seeing the yak).

I suppose I didn’t mention that yesterday in Chico we went for a dip in the creek in the park, and tried the sampler platters from both the Chico Brewery and the Sierra Nevada Brewery. The latter of which had a selection of about 14 beers, most of which tasted as they should, but not exceptionally great; the former of which both the bartender and the waitress said that thier favorite was the half-and-half of raspberrry ale and chocolate porter, which tasted to me like drinking a beer candy bar. But the IPA at the local place was a lot tastier, even though both tasted like an IPA; I guess my favorite was the Sasquatch (or was it Bigfoot?) which I don’t even recall the variety but I got a t-shirt. Lots of t-shirts I have, not sure when I will ever get a chance to wear them so maybe I’ll give them away at Burning Man.

Arcata appears to be hippie central, and I suppose after I finish this pint I’ll wander around here a little. Don’t want you (who don’t really know me – or who think they know me) to think I’m a beer lush; what I am is a beer snob, and I really do enjoy a good pint or two, though not a lot more than that. When I was growing up, my Dad liked Budweiser (the American version), so I thought that was what beer tasted like, hence I thought I didn’t like beer. Through college, my beverage of choice was wine coolers – Bartles and Jaymes (which now I believe is utterly undrinkable) and the favorite Matilda Bay (Australian accent: “Comes in a box, so it’s easy to pour!” – I also have a neon signn with lovely rasta colors). But after Ken and Todd returned from England they introduced me to stouts and porters, and perhaps my taste matured a bit, and I decided I sort of liked beer, though the darker the better (don’t trust a beer you can see through) – I tend to prefer stouts, porters, nut browns, and the like – Amber is marginal and India Pale Ale has “pale” in the name – though my very favorite lately is Dogfish Head (Maryland) Raison d’Etre – the 90- and 120-minute versions (I don’t know what that means) cost around $7 per small bottle but taste to me like drinking a fine wine. Apropos, the best wine I think I ever had was the (I think – maybe Amy can correct me) Neuschwanstein (p.s. no, wasn’t that, was Shloss something-or-other) from the Rhein river, where Amy and I stayed in a castle (at the top of a loooooong set of stairs) back before college; lately two buck chuck seems fine to me though I do like a nice Chianti.

Aside from the breweries, this morning I said goodbye to Felicia and headed out through Red Bluff, stopping for a haircut in olive country, also picked up some olives and pickled okra, and across the hot mountains. Thankfully it’s cooler (tho wetter) here at the coast, but I believe I’ll enjoy running up through Crescent City and along the Oregon coast (that was so depressing that it made Kurt Cobain kill himself, apparently) tomorrow. Picked up a book of hot springs though I don’t see any on my planned route, there are several in eastern Washington and Idaho that look inviting – and at the same time I’m thinking it’ll be interesting to approach Burning Man from the opposite direction this time.

Speaking of firsts – went through the first redwood groves today; was passed by my first logging truck two days ago; first dip in a cold mountain stream today (I’m not counting Chico which was nice but not exactly mountain stream-ish). Highway 36 across the coast range was small and windy, often down to an unstriped single lane down the mountain; my brakes got a bit hot and I stopped to let them rest and was reminded of the story of my Mom and the motorhome which I won’t repeat here.

Lots of disc golf discs above the bar here – I sense that there’s a course somewhere nearby – not only did I not bring my Frisbeetarian golf nets that I made for Burning Man last year, I don’t believe I brought a single disc to play with. Though once I move down towards San Diego I plan to take up the sport again.

I’ve only had two beers, but I guess that’s plenty for now, and the hot wings were devoured; I’m also having lots of water, since I didn’t drink that much in the car, and I’m trying to keep that up. The band is starting up, guitar and a banjo and a bass and a violin, should be somewhat entertaining. Suppose I’ll need to proofread this entry before I post.

(040813.0853 The Apple Peddler restaurant, Crescent City)

Compare and contrast: state-park campsites and roadside rest stops.

 

  • Campsite: $15. Rest stop: $0.
  • Campsite: may be filled up. Rest stop: might be filled up, but probably isn’t.
  • Campsite: plenty of open space, picnic table, fire ring, relatively clean pit toilets. Rest stop: people parked right next to you, relatively filthy flush toilets.
  • Campsite: very quiet, can hardly even tell neighbors are there. You feel almost as if everyone is whispering. Rest stop: people up talking all night, loudly – drunken arguments, slamming doors.
  • Campsite: Noone close enough to complain about me snoring. Rest stop: too loud for people to care about me snoring.

Compare and contrast: bottom bunk vs top bunk.

 

  • Bottom: about 5″ thick cushion. Top: about 3″ thin cushion.
  • Bottom: enough cushion to sleep on my side. Top: not enough cushion to sleep on my side, quite.
  • Bottom: have to move all my stuff. Top: just need to move blanked and sleeping bag.
  • Bottom: have to close all the curtains. Top: only closed a curtain or two.
  • Bottom: view of the inside of the curtains. Top: nice view outside, if it’s warm enough for the zippered windows to be open.
  • Bottom: almost long enough to sleep straight. Top: not quite long enough to sleep straight.

Took a walk on Redwood Creek state beach this morning; meant to stop at Agate beach, but I wasn’t really awake enough to figure out where it was, and I’m not sure what agates look like or if you’re really supposed to be picking them up off the state beach.