People think that Oregon is green, and you may have heard it said that in Oregon, people don’t tan—they rust. In August, Oregon is golden. There are barns, lots of trees, and golden fields, hills, countryside. There are many rolling hills, some steep grades and curves with lots of warning signs about excessive speeds, and signs that warn you of your current speed and say to slow down. It is beautiful to me, and maybe it is more beautiful because it isn’t hot like at home.
It didn’t take long to get from Weed to the Oregon border, a wimpy little 300 mile morning drive in contrast to the boring 468 miles on the previous day.
I got to Salem in time to go with my sister to a hair salon, and then the beautician (is that the right title?) fit me in for a haircut. Isn’t that funny? I went 3 years without a haircut, then got one in Texas and next another in Oregon. Where shall I get my hair cut next time??
Oregon seems ideal in the summer. Enough sun, not hot, and incredible gardening! Of course they have many wet cold days in the winter, which is much longer than what passes for winter in Central California, but in summer it is fabulous.
To top off all the gloriousness, I was able to help a special girl learn a few things about colored pencils.
Hey! That makes this a business trip.
Never mind. We only acknowledge Fernando in tax prep as the vehicle for business. Oh well.
Once a year I visit my mom, my sister and her family in Oregon. Flying is an expensive and hasslesome way to travel, so I choose to drive the 750 miles. I can haul stuff in my our pick-’em-up truck, not stand in lines, have transportation when I arrive, AND set my own schedule. (We aren’t going to address the price of gas, which runs $1.50-$2.00 less per gallon in Oregon AND someone else will actually put the gas in for you!)
For some reason, this year I found the drive to be quite boring until I was well north of Sacramento. In previous years, I have enjoyed the scenery of the Central Valley, all the agriculture, and open spaces. This year I just wanted to get into the rolling hills with oaks, the way things look as you approach Red Bluff and then beyond.
Five audio books from the library (on CD, because my our pick-’em-up truck is a 2003—you got a problem with that??) were on the passenger seat. I tried to listen to As I Lay Dying by William Faulkner because I’ve never read his work. Nope. Repetitive mindless conversations by unexplained characters caused me to quit after the first CD. I switched to Rise and Shine by Anna Quindlen, which held my attention far better.
Last year I drove the entire distance in one day on the longest day of the year. This year I have been feeling less robust, so I stopped in the quaint but sad little town of Weed, named after Abner Weed, a lumber man. The Hi-Lo Motel is charming and has a great cafe. The room was very basic, lacking a microwave, a fridge, and most shocking of all, it lacked a coffee maker. (The sign on the mirror warns against monetary penalties for smoking in the room including marij. in its forbidden substances, because after all, this is the town of Weed.)
The cafe had good food and bad spelling.
Before settling in for the evening, I took a walk around their downtown. I have done that in the past, and once again was struck by the beautiful sidewalks, newly planted trees, hanging flower baskets, and empty buildings. I noticed thrift shops, real estate offices, dispensaries, liquor stores, 2 very small banks, and most buildings with broken or open windows in an upper story.
There were some newer homes on a hill, and some very well-kept older homes in a few downtown blocks. Mt. Shasta was visible from many places on my walk.
Everyone I talked to who lived and worked in Weed was kind, helpful, unhurried, and genuinely friendly. I asked one person what kept people in town, thinking about employment. She said a lumber mill, the Crystal Geyser bottling plant, travelers, a community college, and of course, those dispensaries.
The next morning at 6 (I was eager to reach Salem), I walked to the Valero gas station and “food mart” (meaning processed convenience fake food) for coffee, and the very kind clerk didn’t charge me! (I had my own mug—did that matter?)
Then, I hit the road for the last 300-miles, a picturesque quick trip compared to the first part of the road trip to Oregon. My destination was Salem, the capital city.
This painting is inching forward. It wants wildflowers (fiddleneck) next, maybe some distant shrubs.
That:
The book about TB got sent to the publisher/printer and then put on hold because it needed “hyperlinks” in order to be an e-book. Hunh?? I learned how to do this, then after 2 hours, I remembered that the manuscript could not be sent from my laptop because the Mac scrambles the index (Word and Mac are not very good teammates.) This meant a trip to Visalia and 1-1/2 hours of fumbling around on the author’s HP to no avail. Wow, I am clumsy on that machine which is NOT intuitive. We made the good decision to scrap an e-book.
Another Thing:
It is bear season in Three Rivers. This doesn’t mean you can get tags and shoot bears; it means that they are active. (Thank you for use of the photo, JM!)
I am far away but like to keep these blog posts coming for my tens of faithful readers. Here are a few photos for you with my usual chit-chat.
Farewell Gap in the morning light looks much better in real life than with my PHD* camera.
Ditto in the evening light.
With the short season, I’m guessing in the time that I am away that this stream will have diminished in its flow.
This is the Oak Grove Bridge. It is supposed to eventually be closed to cars with a new driving bridge installed up the canyon a ways. Looks like an impossible engineering feat to me; I’ll believe it when I see it. Meanwhile, I will continue to enjoy my favorite bridge on the Mineral King Road, my favorite bridge in all of Tulare County. We may not have a Trader Joe’s, but by golly we have the Oak Grove Bridge.
*PHD = Press Here Dummy. Although I truly enjoy the convenience of editing my own photos and not changing film canisters, I will always miss the manual options of an SLR 35mm camera and the ability to actually see through the eye-hole instead of a screen that goes invisible in bright sun or requires cheater-readers to see. Yeah, yeah, I know there are SLR digital cameras. . . I’ve owned 2. Together they lasted less than half the time I owned my film cameras. So, a PHD that fits in my pocket is fine.
Sequoia National Park appears to be seriously understaffed, particularly when it comes to Mineral King.
These are a few things in Mineral King that I noticed.
Falling apart signAbandoned pack stationFalling apart signTrail Guy picked it off the ground and used a rock to get it back in placeSomeone did a makeshift repair at the ranger stationPropping up a sign rather than actually setting it in place is sort of a repair.Campground closed??Cold Springs bridgeIf the campground ever reopens, I bet it won’t be $12 per site.
But wait—there’s more! A trail crew has done a bit of work on the Nature Trail.
The signs on the nature trail have never been replaced.Looks brushy but it has actually been cleared a bit.A trail crew placed a warning on this bridge. Are we suppsed to wade alongside rather than walk across?
Along the road, oh my goodness. I shot these photos through the windshield one morning while heading down.
This poor little cabin belongs to the Park.
HOWEVER, someone has worked on the water troughs and Redwood is now flowing.
When my friend who loves to bake uses crushed graham crackers in a recipe, instead of smashing them with a rolling pin, she double-bags the crackers and then runs over them with her car!
2. What in the world? I’ve never heard of this brand of vehicle. (The name sounds like a made up woman’s moniker.) I got closer to look, and the Farmer said, “Better not touch that—it is about $100,000”. FOR A CAR?? WHAT’S IT MADE OUT OF?? And why in the world would someone bring something that fancy up the exceedingly rough Mineral King Road??
3. Somewhere I heard about the novelist Michelle Huneven and her book called Off Course. I checked it out of the library because the description said it was based in the Sierra. Sure enough it was, and I loved figuring out where the places were (because most of the names were changed except for a few mentions of Visalia, Fresno, or Bakersfield, and one mention of Mineral King.) It was a disheartening story of adultery, and the main theme is that it never turns out well. In spite of being a subject that I usually don’t choose to read about, I thoroughly enjoyed the book, probably because of the familiarity of the location. She does write very well, with completely believable characters. (HOWEVER, she made a mistake when she confused Jeffrey and Ponderosa pine cones.)
4. Did you know that if you use scotch tape on tomatoes, they will last longer out of the fridge? Cover the place where the stem was, and supposedly the tomatoes won’t go bad as quickly. I’ve read that wrapping the stem ends of bananas in saran wrap slows deterioration, so maybe plastic wrap, bags, and tape are magical for produce.
5. Did you know that when someone gets commissioned as an officer in the United States Marines, they can choose the location for the ceremony? I had the privilege of attending such a ceremony for a friend in Exeter, right in front of the B17 mural on the side of the ambulance building, in the parking lot of Monarch Ford. CONGRATULATIONS, AMM!! (and thank you for the invitation)
6. 50% of people who have peripheral neuropathy never learn the cause; the state of “pre-diabetes” can cause it; if you aren’t low in B vitamins, there is no point in taking them to “cure” it; electronic pads, compression socks, red light therapy, herbal cures, acupuncture—don’t waste your money; nerve damage does not heal. (I traveled a long distance to learn all this.)
7. Your Car Says a Lot About Who You Are made me laugh on YouTube. It’s on a channel called Dry Bar Comedy, and it was clean! (Heard about it from Dave Ramsey)
In case you were tired of watching paint land on canvas, here is another post on things I think about.
Now that I am firmly in the Ss, along with most of my friends, I am observing changes. We are beginning to do Old People Things. Much of what we have found normal most of our lives is now in the category of Old People Things. As I am wont to do, I have made a list.
Birdwatching—no one cares about birds until they hit their late 50s. Then, birdwatching becomes almost normal. Some people make lists, take photos, compare notes, and read books. Others just watch the birds. (Some of us try to keep our cats from catching and eating the birds.)
Dinner at 4:30—not us, but lots of people eat at 4:30 or 5:00. It’s probably better for digestion and sleep, but only if you don’t dive into snacking all evening.
Jeopardy—a few years ago I spent several nights with some friends. They “played” Jeopardy each evening, using a fancy gizmo on their teevee that allowed them to stop the action and take time to guess the answers. While in Texas, we “played” without that gizmo. It surprises me how many people my age love Jeopardy.
Reading a real newspaper—most people get their news from somewhere else now. Reading an actual newspaper made out of paper with ink on it is something you will only see old people doing, and sometimes you will find them. . .
. . .clipping an article—I clipped an article for a friend and found myself. . .
. . . putting it in an envelope with a stamp to the friend, which is unheard of because now people who are weird enough to read actual newspapers probably just photograph the article they want to share and text the photo to a friend. (Or they send a link. . .) but then I found myself
. . .handwriting a letter to go with it. Yeppers, I wrote a letter by hand, with a pencil on paper. This is very VERY old fashioned, and several of my friends and I do this anyway. We are in our 60s and can do almost what we want except when our bodies betray us which leads to. . .
. . .talking about medical problems is normal around old people. “When I had my gall bladder out. . .” “. . .sleep apnea, and the dadgummed machine. . .” “this stupid neuropathy. . .”
Wondering what in the world is wrong with people because they won’t look up from their phones.
Lamenting the loss of skills such as map reading, dialing a phone, driving a stickshift, reading a clock, speaking on a phone with manners, enunciating clearly, not using foul language as if it isn’t offensive, understanding basic punctuation, using a dictionary.
Is it an Old People Thing to think fruit is beautiful? Why is it here? Easy—because it is summer fruit!
Mineral King is a place for backpackers, campers, day hikers, day trippers, and cabin folks. Today’s post is about the cabin community. (Last summer I posted regularly about cabin life.)
Today’s post is what happens on a busy weekend in our cabin community of Mineral King. There are several parts to the community: our immediate neighbors, those across the creek, the settlement one mile down the road (formerly known as “Faculty Flat”, now “West Mineral King” is the preferred name, and no, I didn’t ask for pronouns); Silver City (private property 4 miles down the road); and Cabin Cove (7 cabins about 5 miles down the road from us).
This is what happens on any given weekend—the closer to the end of summer, the more activities. We:
gather at someone’s cabin for “happy hour”, eat fun things, catch up with one another, and then are too full for dinner
eat dinner together
(Trail Guy and The Farmer, not me unless The Farmer isn’t around) help with various repairs. (The cabins are OLD.)
hike together (hike: carrying pack with lunch and water)
walk together (no pack, no lunch)
give one another rides up and down the hill
bring supplies for one another when coming up the hill
share books
lend knitting needles
let people use our telephone (when we had one) and borrow the neighbor’s phone now
clean up the platform for the annual “Music in the Mountains” event
prune in one another’s yards (okay, that’s just me. . .)
use a hav-a-hart trap to catch bushy-tailed woodrats (definitely Trail Guy, NOT me)
explore historic sites
lend tools
repair water line breaks
go through the junk we discover in our respective cabins, sometimes trading items of interest
share missing recipe ingredients
We stay in touch throughout the year, because our friendships are solid, not simply seasonal.
My life isn’t only focused on Mineral King and making a living with art. While I am puttering at the cabin or at home, painting, yardening, knitting, splitting wood, listening to something, I think.
Sometimes I think about things that I don’t understand. None of it is very important or life-altering. As a Questioner, I wonder about stuff. Here is a current list:
Sun tea: Who cares if it brews in the sun or in the refrigerator?
Sun-dried tomatoes: Who cares if they are dried in the sun, in a dehydrator, or on a shelf in the back window of your car?
Sea-salt: What difference does it make if the salt comes from the “sea” (don’t they mean “ocean”?), from Death Valley, or from those dreaded salt-mines?
Artisanal or hand-crafted: Does this actually improve the flavor?
Anti-science: since when is asking questions “anti-science”? I thought questions were how you figure out what is true.
Tailgating: it causes accidents, creates tension, and never causes the one in front to drive faster. What is wrong with people??
Horror movies: who wants to be scared? Why?? Isn’t life scary enough?
Have you noticed that there is a tremendous amount of advertising for beds, mattresses, and linens? Do you think there is some sort of correlation with the explosion of high-energy drinks available? Here, get amped up, and now you can’t sleep? Just buy a new bed!
If you leave comments and don’t hear back from me or see them appear, please be patient. It means I am in the Land of No Electricity, Phones, or Internet, probably thinking of more things that I don’t understand.
And now maybe you don’t understand why I used all these photos of sunflower paintings. Easy—because it is summer!
I didn’t learn much in June; is this the result of 2 weeks spent blowing my nose? Here is my monthly list, minus many AHA! moments.
1. The lotion I’ve used on my face for more than 20 years is no longer available. Why do companies stop manufacturing items? Yeah, yeah, because they aren’t profitable enough. Sigh. I looked on eBay and the least expensive is $75. No thanks. I used to balk at paying $13.
Expect more wrinkles yearly.
2. My normal preferred route to Hume Lake was closed due to construction. There is an alternate route, one that involved roads I never knew existed, paved but one-lane. In the past I would have taken the new route without question, excited to learn a new way. However, in his old age. Fernando is only cautiously adventuresome. Sigh. Maybe I learned acceptance of limitations of our advancing ages.
3. A friend needed a room in Newport Beach for a pickleball tournament. Did you know that $120 is considered a bargain??
4. Colds can slam you at any time of year, regardless of how carefully you avoid sick people. Something changed with Covid; I used to go as long as 5 years without catching anything. Or did something change with age, as I moved into the S’s? Never mind. Was it Covid? I don’t care. What have I learned? Never mind. Just complaining a little. (Do colds last two weeks for you too?? They used to last 7 days.)
5. I am skeptical about the claims of many medicines, particularly those for colds. A cold will last as long as it lasts and will do whatever it does, regardless of our attempts to stifle or shorten it. Here is an article that backs up my skepticism: Doctors question value of other cold medicines. . . I realize this is the internet, where opinions and experts abound, and there is much contradiction, but this article backs up my own experiences.
6. Even if I am grounded in Mineral King by the sorry nature of my numb feet, it is still a great place to hang out in the summer.
7. I hired someone to feed the cats and water the yard but she never showed up*. Four different friends have stepped into the void. I learned to accept a (HUGE) gift of help, and unfortunately, to not trust someone.
*It wasn’t a hot weekend and the cats had access to their regular abode, water, and dry food that they usually ignore.
