On the Road to Being a Fire Lookout

30 June, Day 2 at the LO.

There was one lick closer so this became known as Salt Lick #2

So it was the battery, I am still fogging a mirror.  Got up at 0700, have to be up in the Cab by 0900.  Called in on handheld as off duty for maintenance.  They use "Out of Service" if you are actually leaving the tower area for any reason and won't have the radio available.  "Off duty" means you are off the clock, but the radio is still on in case they need to call you to come on shift. So worked on cleaning up the Cab, worked on scrubbing up the FF (Fire Finder) and polishing the brass.  That took several applications after a winter of corroding.  But it looks respectable.  I'm probably more fussy than most having had to "polish brass" in the Navy for so many years. My first visitors up in the tower for the season were two gents who flew into Memaloose air strip, then walked the mile to get to the LO (Look Out).  As they arrived I spotted 12 Rocky Mountain Goats (RMG) including two kids on the next point over from the LO.  What a great way to start the season.  It's pretty inspirational to see this kind of big game in any quantity.  Later in the day a couple from Pomeroy, Washington were visiting and spotted a small band of five further over in a dirt area under a large evergreen tree.  Am thinking there must be some minerals leaching up in these two spots because there wasn't any grass where they appeared to be licking the ground.

Looking down to the Cabin - my home.

  Stayed in the tower cleaning until around 1500 then had run out of cleaning supplies, and my bag for trash was full so decided to go down and do some repairs and cleaning around the Cabin.  Since there are no facilities up there, we carry the trash out and down to the Cabin, then take it out in the car on our days off.  It's a lot nicer going back to the Cabin than coming up to the tower in the morning.

Daily lunch is carried up to the Cab along with all the day's liquid requirements and snacks.  I brought a little fresh fruit and veggies but can see it's not going to last long.  Need to get that refrigerator working.
Since the one deck board where you step up in the front was sticking up, and the one immediately in front of the back door of the cabin broke through on first step there that has become my priority to fix. There is a small closet in the Cabin with some old rusty nails in a paper bowl.  So managed to scrounge enough of them to nail down the boards.  Once I started found there were about ten of them which needed repairs.

Then it was inside and swept and mopped the floors -- three times.  First shot I boiled up water and flooded the place basically, then mopped it up and tossed out the grungy mud in the bucket.  The second round I'd brought clorox and a little spray bottle and mixed it about two-thirds clorox to one-third water and sprayed the floor until it was saturated.  Let that set and then mopped it up.  Finally just decided to do one more as a rinse.  The clorox fumes were terrible, but I had the door and windows open for a good cross ventilation so got most of the smell out prior to bed time.

Osbourne Fire Finder

Decided to wait until the next day to clean the frig and do the cupboards.  Found a map in the Cabin which I can use to study the geography surrounding the tower.  Although dispatch has a map of our area and azimuths on it from each tower when we call in smoke they want us to give the azimuth and estimated range, and then a legal and the physical name of the smoke.  The legal is the term used to identify the fire by Township, Range, Section and then the location with in the quarter of section.  The name which usually ends up being the fire name is like a peak, or drainage, or slope off a ridge by name.  There was supposed to be a panoramic set of photos for 360 degrees around the tower with the names of the prominent peaks, ridges, and drainages already named but it is missing.  So, my goal over the next few days will be to identify these by looking at the map and the geography and figure out which one is which.  Finally I assembled the weather station, but there was no pipe for it, so had to put that on the list for the crew to bring up and install.

The other item which is missing is the azimuth sync log.  It's a chart with lines from my tower to easily identifiable points around the tower (i.e. another LO, a relay tower, a sharp peak) and they have been plotted by a surveyor so they are accurate to degree and minute of arc.  We set this every morning first thing to make sure it is on the mark.  After I did the house got the manual out and studied the procedures, radio groups and frequencies, procedures to be used when there are thunder/lightning storms in the area, and how to identify the various clouds (clouds are not an issue for a former Navy pilot).  Found an error in one of the sections on lat/long for our air strip.  Kudos for Shaw on his first day. Outside to catch a shot of the sun going down.

My every night sunset.  Am thinking after fire season starts they will be even more brillant.

The lamps are so dim you can't do much with them.  Good thing Deb bought me a Kindle and I'm not trying to read a book by the thing.  I'd be blind by the end of the second week.  Anyway, sundown is about 2045, so that pretty much drives when I go to bed.  I can read the Kindle until I get sleepy. Brought the battery from the LO Smoke Detector down (there wasn't one in the CO Detector up there), but usually have the door open all day so not a factor, and still no propane bottles so not using a heater.  Of course tomorrow is the first of July.

2330 -- CO Detector decides to go off.  Not sure why it doesn't happen in the afternoon, but must have some kind of electric eye facing the bed and then a time delay to go off about an hour after it senses last movement over there. Woke about 0315 needing to go out and use the porta-potty.  My son gave me an LED head lamp and I can see it is going to be a boon.  Opened the door, started to walk out on the deck and there was a cow elk feeding in the back yard.  Eased back into the house to grab the camera, but she bolted when I recracked the storm door to get the picture. Back to bed, but Dispatch comes on the radio in the morning at 0700 with a lengthy checkin, weather etc so that's pretty much my wake-up call.  It gives me an hour and a half to eat, make my lunch, pack my bag and be out the door at 0830.  Takes me about 15 minutes to walk up the hill and climb the LO.

1 July

So up in the tower by 0900, called in off duty for maintenance again.  Cleaning windows (I brought windex and a roll of towels).  Wow, what a nice view with clean glass.  Polished the FF again a couple times.  It's beginning to look much better.  Just need a decent map to go on it.

Looking NW to Washington State

South to Eagle Cap Wilderness -- Cabin in fore ground left

About 1000 started feeling nauseous, eyesight fading in and out, light headed.  Little pain the left arm, but chest okay.  Went and sat down on the shady side by the trap door where we get a nice breeze.  It began to disapate after a couple of hours.  I'd had breakfast and a pint of water before coming up to the tower.  But went ahead and ate one of my PB&Js when the symptoms started.  Kept drinking my water.  We had a fire drill on the far side of the valley about noon. Without binoculars I was SOL for trying to spot it.  The spotting scope goes to 36 power max and at the range is really grainy and the FOV is like micro sized, so trying to hold it and see anything meaningful is virtually impossible.  That's what happens when you buy cheap.  (Found out later the gent across the river from me who has been doing this several years bought his own pair of 20X50 Swarovskis for $3000.)  My boss's boss the FMO called to see if I'd been able to pick up the test fire.  Told him I had no binoculars and the "cheap" spotting scope was worthless.  A little blunt but have to call it like it is. Figure if I sugar coat it the arrival of the binoculars would only take a little longer since they would have no sense of urgency.  Anyway, the action kind of distracted me from my malady and I started feeling better.  Am thinking it's a little altitude sickness after a couple of days at 7000+ft.

No matter where you are, whether you have ESPN or not a Packer is always a Packer.
This is looking North towards Warnock Corral just over far ridgeline.

When I got down the FS cell needed charging, so went out and cranked up the car.  Thought I'd drive down to see the airstrip and surrounding territory while I charged the phone.  Joy oh joy, the alternator isn't showing charging.  Got out, popped the hood and bad news: the alternator belt is not on; good news: the belt didn't break.  I can loosen the bracket and slide it back on.  Thinking it was that last cattle guard which caught me by surprise and had a good bump to it.  Fortunately, I threw in my tool bag just before I left.  Well, the engine compartment is built for little oriental hands, not ham fists like I have with big fat thumbs.  However, after an hour of working on it, got it on and it squeaked initially until I reved it up after starting, but it was charging.  So off to the airfield, and cautiously approached that last cattle guard.  AND our work around for charging the FS cell is in place.

Two families were camped off to the side of the airfield landing area.  One had pulled a 28ft airstream up that one lane 16% grade road.  Wow, I'm impressed. Remembered I'd brought my little 7X25 binocs, and found them in the car.  Put them on the seat so I could take them up to the LO tomorrow.  Not much, but better than the naked eye.  AND, I'd let the FMO know I needed binocs so it should be short term. Fire crew is supposed to come-up tomorrow too and get the solar panel hooked up and the base radio hooked up, bring up the propane bottles, hook-up the solar panel on the Cabin, take the board off the front door and tell me the plan for the deck off the back door.  The AFMO told me they plan to completely redeck it.  I told him if they would bring up a saw, the lumber and new nails and a cats claw or crow bar I'd do it on my days off.

Well, today was just a little easier going up the hill to the tower than the first day, so hoping I'll keep improving.  Miss my lady, she flew off to Chicago to do her birthday with her sis.  I didn't even get her anything before I left town.  What a lousy hubby.  I'm thinking this is really inspiring and beautiful up here, and to have seen RMGs on the first day, and an elk in the back yard the second morning is incredible.  But 30 June to 15 October is three and a half months and 30 years ago I told myself no more "cruises".

One last view to share.  Looking to the NE I have a view of the Snake River from Sheep Creek where it runs into the Snake from the Seven Devils Mountain Range, back up river to Waterspout Rapids just below the confluence with Saddle Creek.  It's a little over a mile drop from my LO at Hat Point down to the Snake River.  A trail runs from the LO down to the river.

The Snake River in Hells Canyon from Hat Point Lookout

On a One-Lane, Dirt Mountain Road with a "few" pullouts!

One of the advantages of going fifty-six miles into the mountains is there is no internet.  In fact, when I arrived, there was no electricity, no wi-fi, no facebook, no blogspot, no ATT cell service, nada!  The advantage of that?  Well I have to believe my stress level went waaaay down, my understanding of what new crisis was occurring in the present administration was zero -- yay.  One does not realize how the world can go on, survive, and all without me sitting during the news shouting at the TV, writing comments on my social media and upsetting my loving wife.  (I think she still missed me though.)

The Seven Devils -- Across Hells Canyon in Idaho.  No Wi-Fi Here!

So here we are starting with Week 2, Day 1 of officially being a USDA, Forest Service Fire Lookout employee.  Why start here?  Because I want to set the stage for the good part of this event, understanding the great parts of this position, my daily blessings.  I want to tell you, and remind myself this first item on my bucket list really and truly was a great experience in spite of a few stumbling steps--it was a joy, it was worth every issue that cropped up.  The key is to plan in advance and try to understand and be prepared for possible areas which won't be all roses, but will be more than tolerable.  I approached it as if it was just another U.S. Navy cruise.

I'd submitted my paperwork the previous week and attended training in New Meadows with the Payette Forest Fire Lookouts.  There were about a dozen of them.  The training, while short (Tuesday-Thursday) was excellent and the Payette staff did an outstanding job of prepping us for what was ahead.  Originally, I was told I'd come home on Thursday evening and then head out to Oregon on Friday.  On Tuesday, found out my schedule would be Sunday through Thursday 0900-1800 with an hour lunch each day, and then have Friday and Saturday off.  So, I was told to take those days, then head for Joseph, Oregon on Sunday morning, prepared to stay through the middle of October.

Sunday morning started clear, visibility about sixty miles, humidity only 15% and a clock showing 0530 as the dog stirred to go outside.  Finally got up at 0600, and was out the driveway by 0705.  It was a beautiful drive, had breakfast burritos at McD's in Baker and rolled into Joseph at 1030 PDT -- 4hrs 25 mins on the road for the easy part. My boss Tyko an AFMO (Asst Fire Management Officer) arrived right behind me, but had forgotten to bring the keys to the building.  While he got someone to come from close by (Tyko lives in LaGrande) with a key, I ran down to the one gas station in town and filled up at $4.25/gal.  It was actually three cents a gallon cheaper than in Enterprise.

Joseph Methodist Church

The town of Joseph is beautiful, nestled at the base of the Eagle Gap Wilderness Area, on the north side of the Wallowa (Wa-lau-wa) Lake.  It is very much maintained in the vintage style, large flower baskets hang from the lamp posts in town. This church was just one block South of the Forest Service building.  I suddenly wished I had more time just to take pictures of the buildings in town.

But, back to the admin building, then we grabbed an armload of stuff (folder, notebooks, maps, radio, cell phone and infamous "Yale" key).  It opens everything in the forest.  Next question, "Ready to go up to the tower?"

We headed East of the town of Joseph and after about eight miles began the drop down into the canyon eventually leading to the "town" of Imnaha, Oregon.  Imnaha is at the confluence of the Big Sheep Creek and the Imnaha River.  It sets at 1978 ft above msl.  So we dropped down 2222 ft from the elevation of Joseph to Imnaha, to then climb back up to the elevation of 6982 ft msl where the Hat Point Fire Lookout stands.  In 26 miles one climbs back up 5004 ft.  the first six miles out of Imnaha is a 16% grade of dirt, one-lane road with a few pull-outs.

Imnaha is unincorporated, consists of a handful of home owners, a church, the Imnaha Store and Tavern and the Post Office which was opened 4 Jan 1885.  Have mail or package coming in?  PO is open until 1530.  Won't be back in time?  Just tell Bonnie to take it over to the Store and Tavern, and you can pick it up on your way back up the hill.  And, maybe, just maybe you can grab a burger and the coldest beer in the county on the way back up the hill.  Only one beer though before driving up that road!

Just crossed the bridge, straight ahead is the road to Hat Point -- PO on the left, Store and Tavern on the right!

My boss stopped at the Store and Tavern no store to grab a snack, and I headed on up the hill.  The olde 4Runner did okay until mile 4 when the A/T Oil Hot light came on.  Rode the rest of the way with the window down, the heater on, the fan on high and checking the transmission housing by touch.  Light stayed on the whole way up, but the transmission never showed signs of any slipping.  

About three miles before the tower I passed Memaloose Air Strip.  It's a 3500 ft long grass field which runs uphill to the south and is at 6700 ft msl.  To the north it runs downhill but ends just before a stand of tall evergreen trees.  As Joe Spence of Spence Aviation told me, "I've been flying around here for thirty years and I can count on one hand the number of times I've taken off to the North."  From the air strip you travel up a hill and crest it about a mile and a half from the tower.  

Cresting the hill, I see my office for the next three and a half months.

The Tower was built in 1948, updated with the observation platform about 1969, and then had routine maintenance since then.  Hat Point is the tallest fire lookout structure in the state of Oregon.  It's 84 ft to the catwalk, 92 ft to the top of the roof.  It sits on the highest lookout peak in Oregon at 6982 ft above sea level and is thus the tallest/highest lookout in existence in Oregon.  I rolled on in to my home away from home which is a humble little cabin down the hill from the lookout.  It's basically a one room cabin, which with a closet and utility room in the center, divides the cabin into a kitchen, breakfast area, "living room/office" area which due to a large sliding curtain is separated from the "bedroom". When I arrived it had propane which powered the refrigerator, stove and three wall mounted propane lights which operate at an equivalency of about a 15watt bulb.  It isn't something you sit under and read a book by.

Subsequently, that means like two to three weeks after arrival, the Fire Crew which supported my tower got the solar panel hooked up to the cabin, and I was able through an inverter to get enough power to charge up the laptop, kindle and cell phones.  As stated, there was no ATT service, but my Samsung III takes good pictures, and was often easier to use than my Canon Power Shot 590 which I carry on the road with me.  I opened the door to the cabin off the deck which faced East, and then began removing the plywood panels from the windows.  The plywood over the front door was screwed in so it remained on.  The deck had several boards in sore need of replacement, and one in front of the door actually broke in half shortly after my arrival necessitating care when entering the cabin.  My first guests pulled in while I was taking the plywood down, a couple from Portland.  Tyko then rolled in and we unloaded 70 gallons of water in 5 gallon bottles.  The stand for the bottles didn't make it in the truck, so for the first few days it was tilt the bottles over on the countertop and pour into the pans.

As I said, wanted to stay positive, but have to call it like it is, and while I expected some rodent droppings and a winter's worth of dust accumulation, did not expect hundreds of dead flies everywhere, a refrigerator door propped open, spills from last season now "hardened" on the shelves, a stove that didn't look like it had seen a hot soapy wash cloth all of last season, fly "skid marks" on windows where someone had a hayday killing them with the swatter, and a live 12ga shotgun shell under the stove along with more flies.

Entrance road and Cabin from LO

I then grabbed that "armload of stuff" we picked up in town, and we headed up the hill towards the lookout (LO).  Let's see, believe I stopped at least five times before getting to the base of the LO just to catch my breath.  Boise is at 2600 feet, but this was just short of a mile higher in elevation.  It was 116 steps up to the Observation Platform (at least three more stops for air) and then 30 more steps up to the Catwalk.  The famous Yale key which opened the cabin, also opened the gate at the O-platform, and the padlock on the trapdoor that goes through the catwalk.  The catwalk is about three feet wide and circles the Cab which is a 7ft by 7ft room on the top of the LO.  Within the Cab in the very center is a three ft square "cabinet" which has storage below and supports the Osbourne Fire Finder (FF) on the top.  The FF was invented and designed in 1934 and is today essentially as it was when designed.

Osbourne Fire Finder - map water damaged from winter.

On one side is a verticle viewer (rear sight) with a slider for also taking declination/elevation angles as well as the azimuth to a smoke/fire.  The front sight is a block with three horse hairs on it. In 1934 thread wasn't easy to get, but your horse was always tied at the bottom of the LO.  The primary one is a vertical hair upon which the azimuth is shot.  Then there are two horizontal horse hairs one at the top and one at the bottom for the elevation/declinations.

During lightning strikes we record an azimuth and either a declination or elevation angle.  Since lightning strikes may have "holdovers" (smoulder for up to a week in time) we go back and sight these daily after the strike to see if there is any development.  Each morning we check the azimuth against a known geological point and verify it is still accurate.  The top of the FF has a laminated map on it with a radius of 20 miles from the LO.  We can determine fire locations using township/range and section.

Finally I'm in the office.  Surprising, I experience no BB's.  The door was warped, and hangs, so it doesn't close all the way and appears to have been that way most of the winter.  The map on the FF is damaged from the moisture.  There is trash galore, a large rubbermaid bin with inverters, scope (not binoculars), a small weather station to be assembled and added to the LO.  The FF is corroded, the solar power isn't hooked up, so there is no base radio station (but I have a hand-held and there are repeaters in the area).  Propane bottles haven't been brought up for the Cab heater, but that's okay, it's the next to the last day of June (more on this later). TTG the fire conditions are green right now so we have a few days to get this all fixed.

We head back down, reversing the process of standing on a steep ladder pulling a 30lb trapdoor down on top of your head, relocking the padlock ensuring NOT to drop the keys.  So, communicaiton is going to be the handheld (do have six cases of batteries), my cell phone (no coverage), the Forest Service cell (coverage but not charged and only an AC Adapter for the USB charger cord), and I guess there are always "smoke signals" ;-).

Parting comments, "Make me a list of the discrepancies Mags. Bye."

Fortunately I'd carried a combination AC/12V adapter with me to charge my phone, so was able to get a charge in the FS Cell -- It only took the car running for about an hour to get a charge on it.  Last thing I was going to do was just connect it to the battery and hope it didn't cause me to need a jump start to get the car running in case I had to leave. Of course I'd left the FS Cell cord in the LO, so took three acetominaphen and then started the hike back up the hill and up the tower to get it so it could be used with my adapter.  Lesson ONE -- ensure before leaving tower for the day you have everything you are going to want for that day.

I carried my four bins and clothes duffel into the cabin before starting back up to the top.  Figured if I was going up I'd do some cleanup on the FF.  There was supposed to be an Orientation Alignment Log in the Cab for checking the azimuth on the FF and setting it up.  Could not find it.  So just did cleaning.  On way back down realized I'd not called Deb to let her know I was on site.  A lady had a Verizon Cell phone and was kind enough to let me borrow it to call Deb.

Had to smile, no actually had to laugh.  The FS Cell is essentially an antique flip phone like we had fifteen years ago.  To type a text and get say the letter "C" you hit the #2 button three times, i.e. a, b, C.  OMG!  We really used to do this and thought it was great!  YGBSM!  Once charged I called Deb and gave her a little more detail on some of the difficulties we'd be experiencing WRT communication.

Started off with cleaning the kitchen so I could get the food put away, and the perishables into the refrigerator.  

Kitchen tile with black grout - not sure it was always black! 

 Finally managed to get the first layer of crud off as we approached bedtime.  Ah, was looking forward to my bath after cleaning all afternoon.  Bath, defined as wipe down with several huggie baby wipes, followed by two cups of hot water with body soap and a wash cloth to get that "fresh washed" feeling, followed by two cups of hot water for a rinse and get the soap off, followed by two cups of hot water to rinse out the wash cloth.  Opened the sleeping bag, put it on the bed, got the Kindle out to read a little, and gently fall asleep to the chirping of -- the CO Detector.  I look around for the 9V batteries which are on the inventory list -- Nada!  Checked the Smoke Detector (only propane burning is the frig and one wall lantern so figure the cabin is not going up in smoke tonight).  The Smoke Detector has a battery, probably the same age as one in the CO Detector.  Put it in -- samo, samo.  Great, two hours from the world.  Open a window and head for bed.  Did debate with myself as to whether to sleep in the 4Runner.  Oh well, if this is the only blog you read about my life as a Fire Lookout, you'll know that would have been a prudent decision.

Hold it!  Think there may be a spare 9V up in the Cab I saw this afternoon.  No, I'm not dumb enough to climb to the Cab in the dark on the first day, AND no way will I climb that LO three times on the first day.  Been up since 0430 this time zone, and it's now 2300.  Gnite sweet Lady!

Ridin' with Dode!

When my maternal grandmother passed away forty years ago (1979) my mother ended up with a couple of shoe boxes of old black and white family photos Dee Dee had acquired over the years.  They ended up in the very same shoe boxes in mom's closet and there they stayed for the next fourteen years until mom passed away in 1993.  Dad stayed with us one more year, but went off his chemo treatments when mom passed. So it was fifteen years after Dee Dee died that we finally sorted through the family heirlooms and Deb retrieved a couple of larger boxes filled with old family photos.

We too carried the photos around for what seemed an interminable amount of time -- and finally in 2012 Deb convinced me to use that new scanner/printer we'd purchased to scan in the photos and add them to an external hard drive for safe keeping. Having done that, we sorted out the hard copy photos by family and returned most of them to the people who appeared in the pictures.  We now had easy access to the old family photos, we reduced the volume of photo boxes we had in the house, and we surprised some family members with pictures of themselves they'd long forgotten or didn't realize still existed.

As the few of you who read my blog know, the Pacific Ocean beach at Kalaloch, Washington is a huge part of our family history, time together and some incredible memories.  The folks, Grandparents and parents, first took me down there when I was six years old.  That's sixty-five years ago this year.  On one of those trips a picture was taken of my mom on the beach in shorts, holding a floppy hat on her head.

A couple of years ago our daughter Erin saw that picture and thought it would be neat to duplicate the shot. She found a similar outfit, talked Chris into shooting a picture of it on the same beach just a little farther South, and

we now have a frame with the picture of mom, and the duplicate of Erin. It was kind of a neat idea, was fun to do, and brings lots of smiles to our family when we walk by.

Over the last few years, especially as I've tried to add more and more photos to the family pages I've been fascinated by a picture of Dee Dee when she was a young girl, before she married Gilbert.  It shows her sitting outdoors, in what might be a wicker chair with a stuffed pillow under her left arm and she's reading a book -- Cynthia-of-the-Minute.

There's also a picture of her standing holding the book.  We believe she was about seventeen (1915) had yet to meet Gilbert and was living with her family in Twin Falls at the time.

So, the last time I walked by the photos of mom and Erin on the beach, I thought, "Well, she's done one of her grandmother, why not one of her great grandmother.

Thus began the journey with Dee Dee (Dode as my grandfather called her). Since Deb got me a Kindle for Christmas, I now find it very easy, convienient and "costly" to access Amazon.com.  And when I click on the link, I'm there, I'm signed in, and purchasing is a "one-click" event.   Just for shits and giggles I decided  to see if I could find the book "Cynthia-of-the-Minute".  WaaaaLaaaa!  The book was first printed in 1911 and subsequently made into a movie in 1920.  In my search I found three "hard back" copies of the book. Two were for under ten dollars, and the third was touted as a First Edition copy in excellent shape, and listed for $45.  Well, all I needed was a cover that could be read in a photo, so opted for a copy listed as acceptable, and it sold for $5.00 with $3.99 shipping.  Today the book came.

I have a copy that is a hardback, with a nice clear cover, and inside it shows it to be a First Edition copy printed in 1911.  That made my day.

So now the rest of the story.  A week ago Deb and a longtime friend drove to McCall for her friend's birthday and a lunch together--she'd not been there in the ten years she's lived here.  They took their time, took their cameras, and took lots and lots of photos.  Along the way, Deb told me on her return, she'd found a suitable spot to duplicate the photo of Dode.  So now we await the time to dress up Erin, go towards McCall, take the book along and duplicate another family photo.  I'm excited.  Maybe we are starting a trend.  Need to see if I can find a picture of my great grandmother doing something interesting and go for a third generation.

Thanks for taking us along on the trip to great memories Dee Dee!

On the Road w/ The Feds

Went out to get the mail this afternoon, and as I'm sorting it out one popped out big and loud -- "The Feds Want You!"  Well, it said that in so many words.  Having made a typo on my State taxes I jumped when I read it then realized, "No that's State, not Feds."  Quickly scanned the address and realized it was neither for Deb nor me, but rather for our daughter.

Okay, she's grown, married, has a son but they are still your kid and so your heart screams, "What now?" Oh, it's a request for Jury Duty.  Shheeezzzz!!!!!  Alright, we're good, we're really good!  Thought maybe if I'd seen a request for jury duty previously I'd have realized what it was.  But, as neither one of us have ever been called to even register for jury duty, it wasn't something I'd seen previously.

Now, having said that, am thinking maybe I should just erase this and leave the "sleeping dog be" but that's not in my nature.   Besides, I'm at the point of working on my Bucket List, and Jury Duty is one of those things I've never done but wanted to do.  NO!  I'm not insane, but I am a product of the Quality/Six Sigma era and I believe I'd do a very credible job on a jury.  For sure, the prosecution would need to without a doubt prove the individual guilty.  So, if you are looking to go to court make sure they summon Mags!

On the Road w/ a Saimiri

Did I ever blog about the time I flew from Jacksonville, Florida to Lemoore, California with a Saimiri?  I didn't?  Oh well, probably better that I didn't!  But what a great blog that would make!

The Matriarchs

Tomorrow is Mother's Day.  The Day of the Family Matriarchs.  All of mine are gone, but because of my work in the family genealogy, I likely know much more about my great grand mothers than I did growing up.  And both my grandmothers are more familiar to me now since only one lived nearby while I was a child.

The women in our family were strong willed women, had great common sense, could manage money to the penny, knew cooking, crafts and how to get as much out of a set of clothes or the raw materials for a meal as was at all possible--they had to.  Amelia Kunze Calvert and her daughter Dora Grace Calvert Hurd traveled the Oregon Trail from Missouri to the Northwest about 1903.  Leannah Manis Herd was born in Rogersville, Tennessee in 1860 and was still living there when she died in 1900 having given birth to eight children, four girls and four boys including my maternal grandfather.

Caroline Amanda Bush Krieger was born in Ohio and married an immigrant in 1879.  The following year she gave birth to a son in the early spring.  A month later she buried her first child after he died from the whooping cough.  This was so typical, and was indicative of the times and the conditions in which the families lived.  She delivered eight more children, four girls and four more boys, two of them dying before they were three years old.  Her daughter Myrtle Gertrude Krieger Moore Shaw (my paternal grandmother) raised four girls and eight boys plus one of her daughter's sons for a nice round thirteen.  After my dad was kicked in the forehead by their milk cow, Gramma Shaw picked the dirt and debris out of the wound, and nursed him back to health.  There were no doctors within forty miles, and even had there been they didn't have the money to pay one.  She kept it clean and taped it as best she could.  He ended up with a big smiling scar on his forehead, but he survived.

Isabella B. Livingston Moore married at the age of eighteen.  In ten years she had two daughters and four sons losing her husband when the youngest was not yet delivered.  She took the two youngest boys to her Aunt who was married to a minister named Shaw.  We don't know if there was ever a formal adoption, but the boys took the last name and hence why I'm a Shaw.  The other kids were old enough that she was able to raise them.  She outlived two more husbands dying in 1946 when I was four years old.  The resolve of those hardy women is why families survived in spite of the numerous challenges and tragedies they faced.

And today I go forward, carrying a little part of each of you beautiful women within me.  I hope those traits I inherited are what have made me a better person in life, a kinder gentler soul, but one who can buck up when the going gets tough and be a survivor.  I am who I am because of you.  Thank you very much. Love you all. 

Riding On the Wind

I've been asked about the picture of the "brown" raptor on my blog profile.  That is actually a Golden Eagle and his name -- One-eyed Jack. Jack was an incredible creature who brought knowledge, love, reality and awe to thousands of school children and adults alike.  Jack was already at The Peregrine Fund's World Center for Birds of Prey when I first started volunteering there in 2005.

He had been chasing prey and hit a barbed wire fence damaging his right eye.  Because of the seriousness of the injury, Jack lost that eye entirely during his rehabilitation.  Resultantly, he could not be released to the wild again, and so he was made to be an Education Bird and we at the Birds of Prey Center in Boise were fortunate enough to be offered the opportunity to have him be a part of our family of educators.

Jack was a magnificent creature, and in spite of his injury always demonstrated the beauty, the courage and the distinctive uniqueness of being a wild creature that allowed us to view just a little bit of who he was, what he was and his importance to mankind.

As a volunteer at the Velma Morrison Interpretive Center, one can serve in many capacities.  As is my normal approach to every job I take I "wanted it all." So I began in January of that year working in the Gift Shop as a cashier and greeter of our guests.  But, my long term goal was to "work with the birds" in what ever capacity was available.  To be eligible, you had to have two years or two hundred hours of volunteer time.  Then you went through considerable training to "handle" the birds and that began with some of the smaller, oft shown raptors at the center. One went from Gift Shop, to Docent (Tour Guide), to chamber cleaner, to feeder -- what ever was needed to accrue those valuable 200 hours.  At four and a half hours per shift, it was a lot of shifts, but by early winter I'd done it all and was there.

One thing the raptors love is being outside.  So on non-windy days we often take them out to perch in the court yard in the sunshine.  The picture above was taken one November afternoon when I was given the opportunity to "bird sit" Jack on the perch in the yard.  It's really special as you get to observe the raptors so closely.  They miss nothing, catching every ground squirrel or rabbit that scampers across the grass, or notice the flick of a wing of a house finch or dove flying over.  Often, free wild raptors floating on the air currents above the Center soar over and always notice we have an educational bird out.  This is an intruder in their territory, so both Jack and I were ever watchful and alert to make sure they did not decide to take any aggressive action towards this "other" raptor in their area.

While Jack was fed by many of us and we assisted in his care such as coping, his handler was Trish, our Raptor Specialist.  He and Trish had a bond most of us will never know.  They were a couple in as much as you can say that about a human and a wild creature.  But he knew Trish, he trusted Trish, and when he traveled throughout the region as an ambassador to the Center it was Trish who took him on the road. For several years they delivered the conservation message to school children and adults alike.

On the day Jack was in the courtyard I took several pictures of him.  It wasn't until a year or two later when I was sorting through my files to save the pictures onto a new external drive that I noticed something about one of Jack's pictures.  I was enlarging the photos, cropping some, and renaming them when I picked up a sparkle in Jack's one good eye on one shot.  After Jack passed away from exposure to the West Nile Virus I enlarged that picture, printed it and gave it to Trish.

I thought about it yesterday on TBT -- Throw Back Thursday.  This is how I will always remember Jack -- the sparkle, the golden feathers on the back of his neck, the six and a half ft. wingspan, the rock hard, muscular nine and a half lbs body.  He truly was a magnificent creature.

 

Golden Eagle Facts:
Average Life Span in the wild: 30 years.  Longevity may double in captivity.
Dive at as much as 150 mph
Weight: Males around ten lbs, females about one-third larger.
Wingspan: Males around six and a half ft., females to seven and a half ft.
Clutch: one to four eggs, both incubate them
Gestation: 40-45 days average.
Talon Grasp:  Estimated between 300 and 900 psi between front and back talon.
Videos show Goldens taking down wild goats, deer, foxes as well as smaller animals.

On the Road to Summer

This week we hit 80F.  It's supposed to drop down again into the seventies and even high sixties for a few days, but we've passed through the gates of spring into summer. Road up to Birds of Prey on Friday and it was about 61F when I left the house in my jeans, short sleeved T and my vest.  Wearing the "pot" of course as the full face is a bit warm on the ride home when it's 80.

Funny, would never have dreamed of riding off in the winter at 61F dressed like that.  Guess it's the perception of warmth with the sun shining on you that makes it so tolerable.  I'm far beyond ready.

Of course you can tell it's still early.  The vehicle drivers have not transitioned to "more bikes on the road" and to be aware and watch for them.  So I'm very inspired to be 150%+ defensive in my driving still.  Not bad though, only two drivers tried to run me over/off the road--and that's with having replaced the lights with high intensity LED all the way around.  Still, with all that light, it's very difficult to see when your head is where the lights don't shine!  Hence, why I also replaced the stock horn with a small but very loud air horn.

So blasted the gent, and at the next light he stopped about three car lengths back from me for the red light.  Don't know whether he thought I was an evil biker who would damage his car if he got up too close to me or if he was possibly just a tiny little bit embarrassed by not looking.  While I'd love to believe the latter am going to put odds on the former.

Brighter lights, louder horn, louder pipes -- only thing left is being extra extra defensive.  That my friend is the saving grace.

Now to begin working on the biker tan!!!!!

My Original On the Road Post - The Prequel Part 1

In 2009 I took a bike trip back East.  Although mom (Deb) wasn't actually sitting on the back in a frilly black leather bra for the trip, she was certainly going to be there in thought, with reminders, what to take, and what to wear, and ... well you get the idea.

For starters she had several suggestions on what and how to pack, but her greatest idea was to do a blog. Hence, "we" came up with 'On the Road w/ Mags' which I was to work on each evening at my destination. Well, the first day out was from Boise to Laramie, WY.  I stopped on the way into town for dinner and when I arrived at the motel it was looking like rain, so unpacked the bike, put the cover on, and then started repacking everything based on the day's ride and where weight distribution needed to be.  That finished, and having put just short of 700 miles under my belt I was ready for a hot shower and bed.  So nothing was written down. (I'd been told to take the old clunker Toshiba laptop, but it was too heavy and there wasn't enough room.)

For the next 29 days I stayed with either family or friends.  Guess what.  When you get there you don't say, "Hey, you got a table where I can sit down and write my thoughts and experiences from today?"  No, you get a cold beer or a glass of scotch and spend the night telling lies to each other, and getting numb.

By the time I returned home my Honey-Do list was so big I didn't have time to put the trip to paper.  But I began trying to make a few blogs each year.  Well, here we are five years down the road and it dawned on me I never did my trip.

It's kind of funny now.  My original idea was that riding solo each day for 12 hours or so I'd have all these great thoughts and meanderings go through my head and I'd record them in the evening.  Trying to recall those thoughts at the end of a month I realized most of them just meandered.  However, now even five years later, there are still some great memories of the trip, and I hope to take another one in the next year or two (against mom's wishes).  First I have to take her to Hawaii or to Jamaica, then I can hit the road again.  Oops, I'm taking too long.  Just since starting this blog she's now thrown in a trip to Wasilla to see our cousin.  Anyway, back to the trip blog.

Stayed with my cousin in Hershey, Nebraska for awhile.  Interesting little note.  His wife's father is into doing the cemeteries for memorial day, so we talked about that and genealogy.  Next day my cousin says he wants to show me something, so he, his wife and I get in the truck an off we go down the road towards town (it's about four miles into town).  Almost there he takes a right into this corn field that was recently planted but wasn't coming up yet.  We go out into the field about a half mile and he pulled up to this little obelisk right smack in the middle of the field. The farmer had planted right up to about three feet of the monument.  It was a gravesite for a Georgie B. Nowell born Apr 21, 1882 and died Jul 24 1890 on the Oregon Trail.  His folks had homesteaded there a few years and then moved on to California where his dad became the owner of a mine.  I took a couple of photos and established a memorial to him on Find-a-Grave, and have done searches on the family from time to time.
 In 2012 mom and I drove back to Wisconsin to see the folks and Deb's sister's family.  When we went through Wallace stopped and saw my other cousin.  Strawberry knew I'd taken the photo of the monument on the bike trip.  She pulled out the paper from Sunday, Jul 22nd and on the front page is a picture of Georgie's monument.  The local North Platte historian had written an article about it. It was like revisiting a relative.

On the way into Wisconsin to attend my inlaw's 50th Wedding Anniversary, stopped and saw an olde friend Dud in Missouri.  Then on to Cheese Country and an anniversary celebration for the folks.

Aunt Lucy was hoping for a ride on the Harley, but we thought a ride in a straight skirt would not be all that comfortable for her.  Plus the helmet would crush her hair-do.  What a willing sport she was though.

After the Anniversary party it was down to Orland Park, IL to my sister-in-law's home.  And of course we had to get the family together to go to Milwaukee to the Harley-Davidson Museum.  What a great day.  Since I was heading on from there, I road the bike up and the family took a van.

Turns out one of our family friend's son from Wisconsin was employed there and was working the day we visited.  Erin our daughter went to high school with him.  So she asked if he was around and he came down to the desk and picked us up for a personal tour of the facility.  Erin had also made arrangements for one of her best friends to drive to Milwaukee so they could meet while we were there.  All in all it was a great day.

On the Road when Winter is Ending

Kind of a funny thought really, since I try to ride year around, but when I no longer need long johns and a mask around the throat then I know Winter is in fact Ending and spring is just around the corner.  So up yesterday, jeans, shirt and vest, leather jacket, gloves and my HD pot helmet and was off to Birds of Prey.  Typical March morning with some good winds, but still entirely workable.

The benefit was at 1700 when I headed down to Costco to pickup Deb's contacts, the wind had died down and the temp was up to about 55F.  Debated tying the leather jacket to the bike, but didn't.  Got the contacts, headed home arriving just after 1800 with Matt coming over at 1815 so we could ride to an Idaho Gold Prospectors' Association (IGPA) Meeting down near the airport.  Temps were still around mid 50's and the wind had died down completely.

Turns out the incoming president of the IGPA was Matt's boss and had invited us as guests to come to a meeting. It lasted about an hour, they gave away a "ton of items" for gold prospecting and showed some nice nuggets and jewelry.  However, the thrust of the meeting was about the claim they have, maintaining it in a good shape, protecting the environment and planning ahead to ensure they also contribute to the community through things like a roadside cleanup this spring.

It was fun and reminded me of my first trip to the field after buying a metal/gold detector a few years back.  Gerry, our trainer told us the weekend would be spent concentrating on finding the smallest "nugget" possible -- a picker.  I think I must have taken first place as confirmed by the photo.  Yes, that was picked up on a sweep, and after much sifting, and gently blowing away dirt all that was left was the little bugger on the swirl of the finger print. The point -- if you can find those, anything bigger will seem like it's screaming at you.

So meeting over, we headed back home with a stop at the Black Bear Diner for a late dinner.  Matt and I had a great chat over dinner, separated a few blocks away as he headed West and I headed North for the house.  What a great night riding with two of my sons...

On the Road to Paisano Ranch

If you read Deb's blog (http://murphywasanavywife.blogspot.com/2012/11/san-antonio.html) she talked about our San Antonio trip.  In my study of our Shaw/Krieger genealogy, I discovered my Great Great Grandfather Fredric Kunze bought a ranch near Austin, Texas.  So a trip to the ranch was a piece of our genealogy I wanted to explore.  Our family tree is a hobby, one of my loves and clearly an understanding of who our ancestors were, what they experienced as they came to America and the challenges they faced and overcame. The trip to Paisano Ranch was another one of those journeys of a lifetime, and so in this blog I will take you with Deb and me on the Road to Paisano Dobie Ranch.

My great great grandfather Fredric Kunze arrived in America at Houston in 1853. Two years later he made a Declaration of Intent for Naturalization, and was naturalized as a citizen of America in November of 1857.  On 16 Feb 1863 he married Lucy Henderson Scribner in Travis County, Texas near Austin.  On 14 August that year they purchased 160 acres of land West Southwest of Austin, Texas.  Research on this property uncovered information the ranch is now called Paisano (Roadrunner) Dobie Ranch and is owned by the University of Texas. It's serving a two-fold purpose: preserving the ranch as a historical piece along with it's essentially pure areas of native Texas grasses, and providing a secluded place for aspiring writers to spend six uninterrupted months working on manuscripts. I'd corresponded with Michael Adams who manages the program and he graciously offered to meet us at the "locked" gate to the ranch and provide a tour and photo opportunity.  The only restriction was we had to work around the onsite writer--not a problem if we could see the outside buildings, get more understanding of what my gggrandfather faced as he arrived to this virgin property, and what it took to build two cabins which still stand erect on the property one hundred forty nine years later.

The road to the property enters through the gate above with the Paisano decorating the middle of it.  On the attached map, the road comes in from the South and meanders North.  Near the norther point where the road swings back to the Southwest, there is a side road off to the right.  It leads to a cabin which is believed to be a secondary cabin, the main cabin being at the end of the main road after crossing Burton Creek.  It may be the "main" cabin was designated as such because it was larger then the one on the side road.  I believe it's possible Frederic built the secondary cabin first, and then when they were settled, they built the larger cabin and the surrounding buildings. 

As we were led to the smaller cabin we were greeted by a couple of turkeys browsing in the cleared area around the cabin.  Since the area has not been "improved" the grasses on the property are virgin Texas prairie grasses one time browsed by feral Texas long horns. The horns from the last one to roam the property were saved when he died and are mounted in the main cabin.

The cabins are of a Swedish/German design common to the area where my gggrandfather lived in Europe.  The University indicates this is further confirmation he was the builder.  On this first cabin there is a second story, fully enclosed except for an opening on the East side.  A ladder could be placed there, and in the event of raids by either Comanches or Confederate raiding parties the occupants would climb to the second floor, pull up the ladder and close the door to the opening.  These raids, by renegade Southerners and Comanches were documented as late as 1869 along Burton Creek.

On the Road w/ New Family

As the few of you who read my blog already know, I've been carrying the family torch for genealogy for about ten years.  Because those who are interested are members of the site and log in occasionally, I don't tend to mention much here.  However, last year we added new family, and as a result I got to get on the Road to go meet them.  

I've got a shirttail cousin in Alabama who I've only met online.  She and I crossed paths because she was researching the family of the wife of my dad's older brother.  So, she's got one Shaw in her tree and that's Uncle Ralph.  This summer she sent me an email and said she'd been contacted by a gent helping his 80 year old father try to find his roots which were biologically a Shaw.  He found Ralph in her tree.  Donna put him in contact with me.  So, I managed to hook up with young Don.  

The story starts like this:  "My dad is looking for his biological father, but only the father knows he's really my dad's father, and he passed away about thirty years ago.  My dad Don was born out of wedlock as a result of their friendship."  WOW!  Turns out dad (Don Sr.) is in his early eighties.  He can tear down and rebuild a diesel engine in one day, and in fact still does that three or four days a week.  In his life time he's owned a trucking company, hauled dynamite for the government back during the war, and if you don't count the working because he enjoys it, is retired. 

So I asked to be able to talk to him, and Don Jr. said not an issue, he got involved because dad didn't do the computer technology stuff.  When I phoned, I had him on speaker as I started talking with him.   Deb came running into the kitchen where I was.  With one of the strangest looks on her face she whispers, "I'd have sworn you were talking with your dad!"  I guess that was the first positive input.  So I proceeded to take the normal precautions, and asked lots of questions.  Let him know I'd need to research enough to feel confident he was actually the son of my Uncle.  And, also said if the girls don't want to meet him, then that's it.  He agreed.

Well, everything started to fit with what I knew, and the dates and locations matched up, but when he forwarded pictures of himself that was the final cap.  He was definitely a Shaw. But, why he waited until 80 years old to find his dad's family is "...the rest of the story!"

So, asked Don Sr about that and here's the details.  His mom and her sister used to go to the Grange Hall Dances out by Graham, WA.  (Positive #2.)  That was where my dad Hap met mom.  Turns out his mom didn't want to have Don pursue a relationship (more on that in a minute) so much of Don's info came from his mom's sister his aunt.  Turns out they met two guys who were brothers, the one they called Happy (my dad, Positive #3).  His mom and my uncle dated, and then my Uncle left that spring to go back and work the wheat in Nebraska like they did every year.  Don's mom told him my Uncle knew she was pregnant.  When Uncle returned from the wheat that fall, he met and married his wife of over 50 years with whom he had two daughters.  

Don was only a year or two when his mom married, so he grew up thinking that was his biological father.  When he was in high school, mom and dad showed up with papers one day for the school to witness:  Don's dad was adopting him.  First he knew dad wasn't biological.  When my Uncle died in the early 80's, his mom came to him with the obit out of the paper, told him that was his real dad but she didn't want him to contact him.  (Because she was pregnant out of wedlock, her dad sent her off to the Sister's Home for Unwed Mothers in Tacoma.  It was a pretty tough emotional trip for her.) Then in 1994 when my dad died she brought him the obit and said this was the brother they called Happy.  His mom lived until 2007, and he honored her wishes.  But, as he was reaching his 80s he realized he really wanted to know the two daughters mentioned in the 1981 obituary.  That's when he asked Don Jr. to start the search.  

Eventually feeling pretty comfortable with the details I contacted the younger sister who was my age.  Had to laugh, the Shaws are all so "no nonsense" nothing surprises them, call it like it is.  When I reached my cousin, asked her if she was sitting down.  Her response, "Who died?"  Told her no one, but had some info, wanted to give her the short version, if she didn't care to hear more we'd let it go at that.  She said go ahead.  I told her it appears to all possible research I'd done that the girls had a half brother.  Her response, "Mom or daddy?"  Just wish I'd been there to give her a hug and a big smile.  That's just so typical.  So gave her the long version.

They have since met, and are working on planning more get togethers.  I made a rode trip over to the area and met Don for dinner, then went back down to Don Jr.'s for a lunch a few days later and spent more time talking.  We've since stayed with Don Sr's wife, he was in Los Angeles moving a flight similator for Boeing -- at 82 still getting major requests. 

When we had the first dinner, asked him to meet me at my daughter-in-law's restaurant.  Asked if he knew where it was.  "Yep, we eat there frequently!"  You've got to be kidding me, he's been eating at a relatives restaurant ever since she opened it.  AND, when he was hauling dynamite, he was driving with my daughter-in-law's business partner in the restaurant.  Yes, small world. 

Gee, I haven't talked to Don in a couple of weeks, guess I'll go call him right now.  And now you know the rest of the story! 

On the Road to Renewal

A year ago this Sunday I posted a blog -- On the Road to New Life.  It told of our multiple trips to Moscow as we awaited the arrival of our newest grandchild.  So here we are a year later, and have had the joy, excitement, challenge and benefit of a growing baby in the house since August.  He's been crawling for months and in the last few weeks decided he could walk.  (We have two gates: for the stairway; and the other for the laundry room where the pets' food and water are kept.)

In addition, his father has faced the challenge of following the 'book' on feeding as Papa has slipped Calder table food since about the time he was six months old.  This is one "healthy" kid, and will sit in the high chair, eat all of his baby food and cereal, and then come into the front room and see what Papa is eating and "mooch"--hence his nickname other than "Cheeks MacGee" which is probably a result of his great appetite.  

Last week we were On the Road to Renewal (more on that in a minute) and Cheek's mom bought a box of VooDoo Donuts in Portland.  Today there was still one cake donut with yellow frosting setting on the counter where it had been since Sunday evening.  After his lunch our daughter Erin was taking him to the front room to play, and as they passed the very stale donut, he gave his Mooch "uh, uh" and finger point at the donut.  But, his momma picked up the rock hard donut and put it in the trash.  

Travel forward a few minutes and Cheeks is playing and walking around and his momma keeps telling him to come back to the front room as he wanders around.  The next trip he disappears and mom says, "Calder, come back in here!"  A few seconds pass, and here comes Mooch, stale, hard cake donut with yellow frosting in hand -- one bite missing.  He had opened the cupboard door, pulled the trash bin out, and retrieved the donut!  A donut with new life!

So, let me back up a little here and talk about our family's road trip for New Life a week earlier.  Deb had managed to get four rooms at the Lake Quinault Lodge about halfway up the coast of Washington for last Saturday.  Now only a family as crazy as the Shaws would take off from Boise on the Road to a lodge for one night and then return to Boise the same weekend. But that is who we are! And I know a lot of it is because she does it for the olde guy!

Our daughter's car is not that great of shape, so they rented a Challenger and took off about midday Friday to plan a stop with Cheek's godmother in Portland, let her see her Godson then head on to the Lodge on Saturday.  (He first visited when five months old. Second trip at just under one year old.)  Our youngest son and his wife left Friday morning, planning to get a hotel and have a nice dinner together Friday night then go on to the Lodge Saturday.  Our oldest son and his family were ready by Friday evening when he got off work so they just rode with us in the Tahoe since Deb was getting off late as well.  

Early afternoon we got a frantic text from On the Road with Krieg and Karissa--their radiator had blown up near Hermiston.  Erin, Chris and Calder were just clearing Pendleton so we asked them to watch for the red jeep and see if they could help out. Long story short, the jeep was towed to Hermiston and a radiator was ordered, K2 put all their gear in the Challenger and the five of them headed to Madrina's one bedroom apartment for a birthday party and sleepover. The next morning they got VooDoo donuts and upgraded to a full-sized Impala and headed for Centralia, Washington. 

There they met us at our daughter-in-law's restaurant where we all (including granddaughter Andi) connected for lunch at the Centralia Steakhouse BBQ and Deli and caught up (renewed) what everyone had been doing.  After lunch it was off to Quinault. We arrived there about three p.m. having logged about ten and a half hours of driving to that point. We unloaded and then headed out for Kalaloch another 45 minutes up the road.  Arrived at 5p, made reservations for dinner in lodge for 6:30p and then headed down to the beach for the 5:18 sunset.

The cupola at the top of the steps leading down

to the beach where Erin and Chris were married.

We were so blessed to be able to Renew our link with Kalaloch on such a beautiful evening.  The sun was just setting, the tide was out so we could walk to the tide pools and there was no wind.  We went down there as individual families, took our time to share this special event within our own life pod, and then as the sun settled close to the horizon we came together as one large family, silently sharing this beautiful moment. 

Sun setting across the rocks that form the 

tidepools where we find starfish and anemones.

We have been able to Renew as a family including the Portland Shaws for the last several years, and only we the Shaw Clan who has been going to Kalaloch since the first visit 66 years ago would even consider driving 24 hours in a weekend to spend an hour on this beach.  My maternal grandparents were the first generation to come down here.  My parents Nan and Papo came here every summer for years, and as they asked, we distributed their cremains at Trail 2 just South of Kalaloch.  When we moved to Boise, and I retired we Renewed the Trek to Kalaloch as an annual event--third generation.  Now, we even try to sneak over more than just for a week the end of July. Thank you Deb for the memories each trip brings back to be renewed and for helping me keep this going into the fifth generation.

   Lake Quinault from the room.                                                        Generation Three

 Lake Quinault Lodge