While walking the National Mall, the Girl and I passed the Washington Monument on our way to the war memorials. I really liked the sun in the background, so I paused my people-watching to find just the right spot to make the capture.
The image made, the Girl and I turned west and walked on toward the WWII Memorial. It was a good day.
Sometime about the middle of last week, YouTube flashed a notification on my smartphone (sometimes my smartphone is too smart for me!) that InkNeedLastForever has posted a new video. Since I am a Noodler’s fan, I elected to watch the video and learned that Noodler’s (Nathan Tardif) created three new inks for the Commonwealth Pen Show. Boston is only about 400 miles from where I’m staying and the show was 20 September 2015.
I could make the show. I have never been to a pen show. The big shows in Washington, D.C., Los Angeles, San Francisco, and the like are so big and so intimidating that I have not attended one. It wasn’t that I could not physically get to one of the shows. But the huge amount of energy, the noise, and the city were too intimidating.
The Commonwealth Pen Show is a small show and just getting started. This was the second year. My work was caught up and so I asked myself, “Why not?”
So, I elected to make a quick trip to Boston for the show. The hunt for affordable lodging turned up nothing, so I elected to stay at the Holiday Inn, where the show was hosted.
The Girl and I loaded up Saturday, about noon, and headed out. I should have left sooner. But, I’m still learning how things work here in the east and highway travel is just different than it is in the west, where I spend most of my time. I hit a major detour near Harrisburg — I-81 was closed for construction. In trying to find a detour, I wandered about in a small town (that happened to have some kind of event blocking all the main streets) until I found (or my GPS found) a way around the clog and was able to get back on track.
There was traffic, but it wasn’t awful. It was enough, though, that passing a slower moving vehicle required a merge into significant traffic.
I stopped in New Jersey to find a geocache (and collect another state), plus the Girl needed some outside time to stretch and relieve herself. We had fun.
It was not long before I crossed into New York and almost immediately New York City. The afternoon light was gorgeous, I-95 was very slow, and the skyline was fascinating. I grabbed a few shots with my Panasonic compact camera when traffic paused and thought “I’d like to visit here. This could be interesting.” Yeah, I’d like to visit NYC and see some of the history there.
The farther along I-95 we moved, the better traffic moved and soon we were moving along again. We crossed into Connecticut, then Rhode Island, and then into Massachusetts. But, with the light failing, I decided against stopping for a geocache and hoped I’d be able to find a few on my way home. We arrived at the Holiday Inn in Boston late (for me) and tired (from all the traffic).
The clerk challenged me on the Girl as soon as we arrived at the desk. “There is no formal requirement for certification under federal law,” I reminded her.
But, because I paid the fee to obtain a “certificate” that is displayed as an ID card on her vest, I bent over to retrieve it. “I’ll get my manager,” the clerk told me. She arrived back in a couple of minutes and I presented Ki’s ID card.
“Will this do?”
“Yes.”
I should not have been cranky with the clerk (and wasn’t rude), but it appalls me that people don’t know the rules and that others take advantage of the rules to subvert the system. We were checked in by that time the manager showed. I could have taken the time to explain, but I was just too tired and stressed to bother.
We woke early Sunday morning and went for a walk. Boston was cool and overcast Sunday morning. It rained during the night — not a lot, but enough to dampen things. I showered, dressed, and we went down to the dining room for breakfast. It was decent enough; certainly nothing to complain about.
We were at the door by 0900 hours. There was a short line. The Girl and I interacted with an older man, who told stories about his love of dogs and his encounters with them. I really enjoyed the stories. Then he did a magic trick with a pen and a 20-dollar bill. The pen appeared to have penetrated the bill, but there as no hole. Fun!!!!!
Perhaps I should have taken my beanbags and juggled while waiting in line?
We paid our fee and got in line at the Noodler’s table to collect the special inks. There was a line when I got there and there was a line when I left. I’m not a big fan of Noodler’s fountain pens, but he sure is an expert marketer. He’s also an interesting man and someone I think would be a hoot to know better. I got my inks and stowed them in my messenger bag. I elected to not look at the pens, thinking the line would reduce and I’d be able to look at his pens later. I was dead wrong. Oh well…
The Girl and I walked the floor, browsing at the offerings there and visiting with the vendors. I nearly bought a vintage Sheaffer Pen for Men at one table. The nib was fine or extra-fine, which is smaller than I want in that pen. So, although I thought it was a reasonable buy, I left it. (…and I nearly went back for it later!)
I played with some flexi-pens. That is an art I have not learned. But, I love the shape of the letters made with a flexible nib and think I want one. The offerings I encountered were more than my budget, so I continued wandering. I got back in the Noodler’s line, thinking I would check out his special pens when a lady walked up to me.
“Are you Ruminator or something on FPN?”
“Yes.”
“I thought so… I saw you and your dog and remembered your post on FPN.”
We chatted for a bit (the Girl was the big hit of the show, I think, perhaps just behind Nathan and Noodler’s). “Are you looking for flexible nib pen?”
“I’m interested in them.”
“Then you should talk to Pier,” and she pointed out the man running the table. I remembered watching him write. He is very skilled with a flexible nibbed pen.
“Let’s go!”
“Are you sure?”
“Yep, I can always get back in line.”
So she led me to the table where I met the “trophy husband” (as he calls himself). We sat down and he had me play with a number of vintage flexible-nib pens. I practiced pressure to spread the tines and increase the line width with three or four pens, but gravitated back to a couple of them that just felt “right” in the hand.
Pier walked over (he is a penultimate salesman) and visited with me. He made me an offer on one of the pens I was playing with. It is not a collector’s pen, but an everyday writer. It will do and the price is probably about what the nib is worth. When dealing with cameras, my rule is “a camera is a box to hold sensor or film and create a good exposure; the glass and photographer are what create the image.” The fountain-pen corollary is that a “pen is a tube to hold ink and a nib; the nib and writer create the writing.” So I have a tube that carries a decent flexible nib. I can play.
I’m thankful that “C” rescued me from the floor. I might have wandered about another hour before becoming exhausted. I was reminded that shows like this are hard on me — the energy and buzz push at me and that I have to be careful. When I go to shows, I have to have a plan and stay focused on what I’m there to achieve. Otherwise I’ll wander off into a fog and drift along the floor, there, but awash in all that energy and commotion.
The show, while small, was bustling with interest and transactions. This is good and I think bodes well for the show to grow into something a bit more. It will probably not reach the size of the big shows. But it could be a great regional show for local enthusiasts capable of drawing enough vendors to make it worth attending for both vendors and buyers. There was a good number of pens, nib masters, and papers available — as well as Noodler’s Inks.
I enjoyed my first show. I only wish I’d gotten my camera out a lot more and made a bunch of images. Facepalm
The trip home was unremarkable. The Girl and I stopped a few times to refresh ourselves, get a bite, and find a geocache. Traffic was heavy now and again, especially where construction or an accident constricted the flow. We arrived home late and tired, but safe and glad to be home.
The last week or so has been crazy. First, a week ago last Tuesday (about ten-days ago), my MacBook Pro suffered what appeared to be the Blue Screen of Death and nothing I did would rectify it. So, a trip to the Apple Store in Lancaster was required.
The genius inspected my notebook computer, then ran some diagnostics. The usual suspects turned up (no optical drive, non-OEM battery, failed logic board). I had intentionally removed the original hard drive and the optical disc last spring and replaced them with a SSD and a larger hard drive. The SSD is for system files and the hard drive is my /usr space. The original battery was swollen (meaning failed or imminent failure), so I replaced it with an aftermarket unit.
The logic board was troubling. I had suspected the problem was a failed logic board. Some snooping around the night before informed me that a replacement would be about $500 or more.
The genius looked at me, “There’s a chance that if a very specific test fails the maker of the display board will replace the unit.” He ran the test while I waited with bated breath.
The test failed. Therefore, I would not be out the $600 (confirmed) to replace the logic board. Nor would I be faced with the “Is it worth the repair?” decision. So, I left the machine and returned back to Red Lion to finish some work and prepare for my DC trip.
I left for DC Sunday afternoon, trepidated by having to go to the big city. I’m not a city boy and really prefer the outdoors to city life. But, I had a duty to do so I went.
When I arrived at the Hotel Monaco (a Kimpton property and highly recommended), I learned the topper would not fit in the garage. The valet and the doorman were kind enough to assist me in removing it. They stowed it in the luggage area. The valet took off in my rig to park it.
I went to check in and the desk clerks lost their minds over the Girl. She’s always a hit with people when we are out and about. After I got checked in, we went to our room and I discovered that I left the Girl’s bowl in the rig. So, we went back to the desk.
A new clerk was there and she made over the Girl too. In fact, she came out and asked to greet. So I set up a greet and they were acquainted. The clerk offered the Girl a Milkbone and they were BFFs. When I explained my situation, the clerk said “No problem. I’ll have a bowl sent to your room.”
We went into the hotel restaurant for a light supper — well, a light supper for me and a nap under the table for the Girl. I met William, my server, and we chatted given they were not busy. I learned that William earned a degree in hospitality, but his passion is for training. So, he’s working on his license for personal training and will be going into business for himself.
I enjoyed a nice, light supper, a dessert with a tawny Port, and then returned to the room. There I found two very nice stainless steel bowls and a bed for the Girl. I tossed the bed up on the big bed and took the bowls to fill in the bathroom. When I turned, the Girl was peeking over her new bed at me. She loved her little bed!
We walked back out to the front desk and I told them about her love of her little bed. I so appreciated them taking care of us like that.
Monday was all business. I met my colleagues in the morning, we prepared for our meeting, then headed for the Federal Department of Transportation facility. The Girl got to ride the subway (she did fine, even negotiating the escalator better than I do) and visit lots of new friends.
One funny event occurred on the subway. A young man had a set of cans (over the ear headphones) on. He made eye contact with the Girl and her energy perked up. When the train stopped, he made a step towards us to get off the car. “Woof!” the Girl said in her alarm voice and she sat up.
“It’s OK,” I told her, “eyes!” to get her focused back on me. It was all good, but the interaction made me laugh.
The meeting was challenging because of the way our scope is structured. The report was only half complete, so the relation between completed sections and sections to be completed was not present. That made the reviewers’ job quite difficult and it was reflected in the comments.
The Girl snored under the conference table, which made us all laugh. I think we all wanted to be snoring, actually.
I was relieved to have the meeting done. It was time to debrief and share an evening meal together.
My intent was to leave Tuesday, but I elected to stay over an extra day so I could see some places of interest. The Girl and I rose early Tuesday and walked down the National Mall. I have captures of the Washington Monument, the WWII, Korean War, and Vietnam War memorials, and Lincoln’s Memorial. I’ll probably post a few of them over the next few days both here and on my Instagram account. I deeply enjoy those monuments to our heroes.
The Mall is a mess of new construction, or rather reconstruction as they are renewing the turf and a number of the facilities.
We walked back past the White House, then turned east on F Street and headed back to the Monaco. I was hungry and she was hot, so we stopped into Nopa for a bite of lunch and a rest. It was good to be cool and the food was very good. One of the waitstaff was familiar with service dogs and made over the Girl.
We took a break in our room for a bit. Then we walked across the street to the National Portrait Gallery.
That was a hoot! The Girl had never seen so many of the things in that building. Much of the sculpture caught her interest. It was fun to watch her look at things. She was so engaged with her surroundings, yet she still paid attention to me.
Tired and hot, we returned to our room and I got a light supper from the restaurant. They had seared halibut and that was very good and about the right portion size for me.
Wednesday morning we rose early again and humped it to the Jefferson Memorial. Jefferson is one of my heroes. He was intelligent, hard working, and had insight into what was going on. That insight travels forward to today, in my opinion, and the mess of politics we find ourselves in. I don’t think he believed the Constitution to be a holy document, but I think it would appal him the degree to which it is neglected by school children of our time.
Park personnel were in the process of washing the interior of the memorial, so it was roped off. One of the workers let me in to get a couple of frames but about the time I was ready another worker shooed me off. I had to laugh.
The Girl and I humped it back to the hotel and made it just in time for me to grab a shower and make it before 1000 for a bite of breakfast. I really wanted my eggs and I just barely got them.
It was then time to wrestle the Yakima back on top of the 4Runner (thankfully I had help) and head home.
We stopped in Lancaster on the way home to retrieve my Mac. It was all fixed and someone else paid for the new logic board. I’m really glad to have my machine back.
I stopped in Rigby, Idaho on my way east. That would be a few weeks ago, now. The Girl needed an outing and I don’t really like to stay in a motel room all the time, so we got out and wandered over to the city park. While we were there, I noticed this old gun. My guess is that it was once mounted on a warship, perhaps from WWII or the Korean War. In any event, it now resides in a city park — a reminder of our veterans and the machines they used to do the job.
After a little research, I found this article on the Bofors 40mm Gun. If you have an interest in such things, be sure to look through the archive of images. I love historical images and there are some great captures in this archive.
I can only imagine what it must have been like to be one of crew members operating this gun. I know that the crew hand fed the magazines using stripper clips of cartridges. That must have been crazy, with all the racket going on, not just of this weapon, but all the others adding to the noise and confusion.
There’s a nice video here: FPS Russia [YouTube]. The video is a fun watch.
I had so much fun with the gun, that I made a second image. I’m still amazed by this machine… no, I’m in awe of it, especially after watching the video.
While on my way from Nevada to Pennsylvania, I passed a museum of retired aerial tankers used for firefighting. The museum was next to a rest stop along the highway. The Girl and I both needed a break. But, the real reason is that when I come across something interesting, I stop. I have no idea if I will ever pass this place again. I have no idea whether I’ll even be alive in a day, a week, a month, or a year. Life is to be lived and if I don’t satisfy my curiosity, then what’s the use?
So, without ruminating on that too much, I pulled into the parking lot and stopped. I put the Girl’s vest on her to make her official. Too many “pet” owners have ruined access for our furry family members because they refuse to police up their animal’s feces and their animals are poorly behaved. So, those of us who take care of such things are penalized by the actions of those individuals.
Bah! Enough with the ranting/ruminating/whatever! We stopped, she dressed, and we took advantage of the facilities. Then we crossed the fence to the museum facility and entered.
Inside was a plethora of aerial firefighting memorabilia. They were running a video presentation of the machines and techniques used to fight fires from the air. There were lots and lots of pictures and a few books. There was a donation bin to support the facility and the aircraft on display. I made a donation, then we walked outside to check out the aircraft.
Of course, I got lots of questions about the Girl. I always do. I always take time to answer.
One of the ships was opened to permit a look at the inside. I loved this view of the office, so I made the capture. I’m glad I stopped. It was a unique experience and a fun view of these aircraft.
On my first loop from Carson City, I spent a night in Alturas, California. I believe I wrote a bit about that part of my journey some months ago. In any event, I noticed this iris was strongly backlit and it was striking against the darker background. So, I paused my play with the Girl and made the capture. It’s one of my favorite images from that trip and a great memory of the place.
“Football season is our busiest time of the year,” Daughter said. She was being honest. It’s been a very busy week. But, I’m ahead of myself.
I finally buckled down and drove out the remaining miles to Daughter’s home. I spent a lot of time on the turnpikes (which I deplore) and another night in a motel. I did pause to pick up geocaches in states where I had not found any so as to collect the “souvenirs” for those states. The pauses gave me an opportunity to see some of the country that I had not seen. But the focus was on “getting there.”
Daughter has a wonderful house. They are in the process of filling it in as time and money allow. The grandsons are wonderful, as I expected. I’m deeply enjoying spending time with them. I’ve watched more TV than I have in years, but it’s fun to simply be with my family.
Daughter is amazing. A deep calm strength emanates from her. There is confidence there and well as competence. The boys are attentive and respectful. I expected that, given their Father. It is good to not have to be the one in charge for a change. I am not the leader here, just a beloved family member. It is good.
I’ve been going to football practice with Daughter and Younger Grandson (YG). Daughter and I sit on the sidelines and observe while YG works. He’s got a great attitude and is not afraid to mix it up a bit. He’s learned a lot, I can tell. I shot a bit of video of his workouts and will share that material with Daughter. She can do whatever she wants with it.
Saturday was the YG’s first scrimmage this year. OG, Daughter, and I sat on the sidelines (along with the Girl in her training vest). It was hot and humid, but not awful. I think I finally got some Sun on my right leg, which is usually shaded by the 4Runner when I’m driving. I have a farmer-tan on my left side and it’s time to balance it out a bit.
The scrimmage was round-robin style. With the exception of one team, it was fun to watch. The lead coach of one team was a total butt. He was screaming at his kids and had a generally bad attitude. I’m thinking he’s a candidate for the antagonist of one of the Karate Kid movies. These are ten-year old boys, for goodness’ sake, not professional players. There’s a lot of learning for them to do and it can be done in a far better way.
Enough of that…
Friday we drove up to Gettysburg to visit the national park. I put the Girl in her training vest and she was perfect! She went right to work, stayed close to me, was very attentive, and did exactly what she was supposed to do. We visited “The Cyclorama,” which is a huge oil painting of Pickett’s Charge and is accompanied by a soundtrack. There were several cannonades, which the attendant warned me about. Although the Girl didn’t like the loud noises, she only trembled a bit and realized this was not thunder.
They made us take the elevator to avoid the escalator. I didn’t remember, but the Girl knows escalators and has no problem with them. I have video of my lead trainer working her on the escalators at the airport last Christmas and the Girl did great. But, she knows elevators too and was fine with it, even as herky-jerky as it was. They put us in the handicapped seats so the Girl could place next to me. I put her in a down-stay and she was fine. The cannon blasts and rifle reports disturbed her a bit, but not badly.
We drove part of the CD-guided automobile tour. The entire place has a sense of the holy about it. I want to go back and spend more time there. They have a number of short hikes to various places that would be good to see. It is also possible to hire a guide to go along to tell the story. I want to spend time there with my cameras, but that will mean getting up early to get the good light.
Pennsylvania reminds me a lot of Missouri. There’s lots of vegetation, the air is warm and humid, and wildlife is abundant. I stepped out the back door with the Girl Sunday morning for her morning outing and watched a wild turkey at the treeline between lots. That was a sight I haven’t seen in a long time.
I’m very happy I decided to come here. It’s good to be with family, I haven’t seen Daughter and her family in two years (since Wife died), and it is good to see new lands.
Many years ago there was a Clint Eastwood movie, Play Misty for Me. It was one of the psychodramas of the time and quite spooky. The title for my article was a free association based on my acquaintance, which I’ll tell you about.
Thursday evening came and my friend Jimmy arrived home from his first job. He looked into my room and remarked “I see boxes by the door, but it doesn’t look like you’re ready to leave.” I shrugged and said “Well, maybe Saturday, maybe Sunday… I have some work to do on this project that will take me a few hours.”
It was really hot that afternoon — the 4Runner’s dash thermometer read 102F. The Girl and I had been running errands, wrapping up a small project, procuring necessary items for my next trip, and trying to stay cool. I had been working on my report to address comments from the prime before I headed out. It was too hot to sleep yet anyway. But, I got settled down about 2300 and slept pretty well.
Friday morning came and while drinking my morning coffee, I decided I could get away if I really wanted to. So the Girl and I made our walk, I worked out, fed us, and got started on the last few things. It took me about a half-hour to pack them, so I showered and began loading the rig. I took my time with the rig because I faced a huge Tetris problem. In the end, I got my things in there plus the few things I wanted to stow in my unit.
We were out of the house by about 1100 and headed for Carson to take care of some last errands and stow those things I was leaving behind. On the way out of town we stopped at Sportsman’s Warehouse to pick up a couple last things, said goodbye to my neighbor (who works there), and then headed east on U.S. 50.
It was a much cooler afternoon than Thursday. I could have worked and been fine at Jimmy’s. Oh well… I had no idea. Regardless, it was good to be moving again. We stopped in Fallon for a few minutes to get out of the car and drink some water. I picked up a couple of geocaches along the way as well.
One of our stops was near Sand Mountain, to find a geocache. I thought about driving out there, but could tell it was already crowded with weekenders and decided that I didn’t want to interact. So, after the Girl chased a few lizards and I logged the geocache, we headed on.
I stopped at the Austin, Nevada cemetery to find another geocache, hoping it would be large enough to accommodate a couple of travel bugs I’d been hauling around. But, the hide was a small container so no joy.
I also was tiring and didn’t think I’d be able to make Eureka or Ely. In looking at lodging in Austin, the Cozy Mountain Motel got a lot of good reviews. But, when I drove by, the No Vacancy sign was already illuminated. So, I looked again and found the Pony Canyon Motel. The price was a little higher than I expected and I was surprised when I learned there was no air conditioning. But that wasn’t really bad as the evening cooled quickly.
The Girl and I settled in and were sitting outside enjoying the late afternoon air and light — watching the world go by. I noticed the beautiful light and retrieved my Fuji X-T1, making the capture above.
A young woman pulled in beside my rig and started rushing her things, including two cats, into her room adjacent to mine. The Girl took too much interest in the crated felines and drew a correction. “Sorry about that,” I said.
“No worries… they are so much work to take care of, not like a dog.”
“Well, dogs just require a different kind of work.”
“I gotta hurry, the restaurant closes at eight…” and off she flew. When she returned, I was boiling water to add to my freeze-dried supper, lasagna with meat sauce. I’m experimenting with backpacking meals. All that is required is the foil packet, boiling water, and a spoon. A long-handled spoon really helps. (I’ll write about that more in another article.) She walked past with her boxed pizza. “I see you made it.”
“Yep, health food,” she responded. The Girl’s nose went up as she walked by. “Must be pepperoni,” I said, “The Girl loves pepperoni.”
“I’ll save her some, then.”
“Don’t do me any favors, she’ll gas me.” We both laughed.
After I ate and cleaned up, I sat on the bench outside my room with my guitar, playing softly. A new goal of mine is to do those things that are important to me daily — reading, writing, music, photography. I’m working on getting some of my skill back on the instrument. So, I want to play a few minutes everyday. She came out of her room to get a few more of her things and smiled as she passed.
When she returned, she sat down in a nearby chair. I played for a few minutes and then she began to talk. She is learning the ukulele. She had no artistic encouragement when she was young and a friend had encouraged her to play. She took up the ukulele as something relatively easy to play and quite portable.
“Are you practicing regularly?”
“No. I often intend to, but I don’t. I binge, playing hours on one day and then nothing for a week.”
“You should commit to 15-minutes per day,” I suggested. “Don’t be regimented about it, like ‘I have to practice today,’ but make it something you do because you want to, because you get something from it. Don’t beat yourself up if you miss a session. But you’ll build muscle memory much faster if you practice regularly, even if it’s just a few minutes.”
I used to teach music in another life. My encouragement to my students was always to practice a little. Make it a focused session and keep it short. The goal is to be regular and focused. That’s the fastest way to learn and it’s a lot more fun.
“I’m Misty,” she held out her hand.
“I’m Dave,” and I took it.
Mid-visit there was a crash as the screen on her window fell out, hauling a small tan and white cat along with it. I called to Ki to stay in the room and we went over to grab the cat (she did) and I grabbed the screen. After a bit of futzing around, she got the window closed and I had the screen (mostly) back in place. After a few minutes getting her cat settled back down, she returned.
“I’m headed for Dallas to work on my Ph.D.” That led to a talk about graduate school, background, and a lot of stories about things. After an hour or two just chatting, I could tell she was tiring as she began yawning and had that look about her.
“I have to go to bed. I’m tired.”
I nodded, understanding.
“Perhaps I’ll see you in the morning. I want to see how you cook.”
I really enjoy these encounters. I enjoy interacting with people and hearing their stories. I meet interesting people along the way and am thankful for that.
Indeed, she was up and about before I cooked breakfast the next morning — a Saturday morning. She watched me prepare my eggs and oatmeal and was surprised that I had all the fixings. I was amused at her surprise. Why wouldn’t I have the things I like with me?
As I cleaned up and began my packing process, she loaded her vehicle. She knocked on my door and I asked her in. I gave her one of my cards. “Email me. I’d like to hear how your progress on your Ph.D. goes. When I’m in Dallas, I’ll drop by for a visit and we can have coffee or a beer.” She smiled, nodded, and looked at me for a moment.
I gave her a big hug, as I could see that was what she wanted.
Then she was off to Denver to see a friend, then to Dallas to get started on her work. “God Bless and be safe,” I said as I watched her go.
Once again, a living, breathing being moved into and out of my circle. She brought her energy and liveliness into my life for a few moments and then was gone. Will she email me? Will I see her again for that coffee or beer? I have no idea. I’m not even sure that it matters. It is what it is and I’m happy with that.
Then, as she drove away, my free-associating mind came up with “Play Misty for Me” and I knew I had a title for my story.
After leaving Craig, Colorado I started working my way west. I paused a few times along the way to hunt for a geocache (and to get out of the car and enjoy the outdoors). The Girl, as always, really enjoys these stops. She travels well and is happy snoozing on the seat beside me, looking (and sniffing) out the window, and long-range cuddles (me stroking or giving her scratchies). What a wonderful companion.
We puttered along the way, enjoying the cool air and the bit of misty rain that we encountered. It was amazingly cool for summer — about 65F. I had to roll up the windows or be cold.
As I thought about our route along U.S. 40, I recalled seeing Dinosaur National Monument located near the Colorado-Utah border. Not knowing when I might again be this way, I decided to forego making miles and enjoy a diversion for a few hours enjoying the park. So, we stopped at the eastern welcome center and went inside. A ranger greeted us after finishing his visit with a small group of tourists. We chatted for a bit about his work and the park.
“The east side of the monument has the views and the altitude. The west side has the fossils and the heat.” He told us.
I elected to go for the fossils and save the views (and altitude) for our next visit. Perhaps by then I’ll have my mobile house and can stay a bit. It would be interesting to work the landscape with my cameras.
So, off we went… west. We paused in between the two parts of DNM to capture a geocache. When I clambered up on the ridge to get the hide, I glanced in both directions. U.S. 40 spread out before me in both directions. Each provided a distinctly different view. I liked the light better to the west and made this capture with my HTC One mobilephone and immediately made an Instagram post of it. Now I’m sharing it again, but this time with the story. What a great view of the arid west. I love this part of the country.
The Girl had a blast chasing rabbits, squirrels, and chipmunks. I had to call her back a couple of times because she’s always at risk of getting lost. In her prey-driven focus, she’ll completely forget where she is and where I am. She’s smart and dingy — an interesting combination. She could probably find me with her doggie-sense (perhaps not as good as spider-sense, but pretty-damned-good nonetheless), but she forgets to use her best tools. I often accuse her of being my blonde bitch. [Yes, I know that’s not PC; I don’t care.]
As an aside, I’ll add that I tell people that I like “big-chested blondes with tight asses” and then give the Girl a pat. Wife used to tell me “David! You can’t say that!” to which I would respond “I just did!” And then I’d smile. When I say that, I can hear my Dad’s voice. It is something similar to those things he’d say. I still miss him and he died 20-years ago. Bummer…
We scrambled back down the bluff and headed west in the 4Runner. As we lost altitude it became warmer. The atmospheric lapse rate is still a physical reality, I suppose. It wasn’t long before we found the turn-off to the Welcome Center on the west side and pulled in. There were quite a few cars in the lot and it was much hotter. It was too hot to leave the Girl in the rig, so I put her vest on, retrieved a banana for myself from the on-board stores, and we headed for the center. The Girl took time to sniff a bit and pee, then we walked up to the door.
We were greeted by a ranger who immediately took up with the Girl. I set up a greet and permitted the ranger and the Girl to interact while the ranger told me about the bus to the quarry. She said “follow the bus in your rig and the driver will open the gate for you. You can park at the top.” Having the Girl in-vest is a very good thing.
We went inside and bought (for a buck) a self-guided tour of the western part of DNM. Then we returned to the 4Runner and followed the directions. As instructed, the driver paused at the sliding gate, asked me about access, asked about the Girl, and how many in our party. Then she opened the gate and I followed them up to the parking area. We walked into the quarry building and then enjoyed an Earthcache and the view of the pile of fossilized bones. It was a genuinely enjoyable part of my journey and I took a lot of pictures inside the quarry, then outside from the parking lot.
After an hour or so, we headed back down the hill and started the self-guided tour. I was particularly interested in the petroglyphs and the old cabin where a woman lived and worked until she was in her nineties. Those are stories for another time, I think.
Hot and tired, we finally left DNM and drove into Vernal, Utah. Vernal is a bustling little city that seems to be thriving. We found a motel (The Weston Lamplighter — recommended) and went inside. They are no-pets, so I declared my service dog, provided some documentation, and checked in. We pulled over to our room and unloaded.
I wanted some Mexican food, so I spent a few minutes researching (Google is your friend, in this case), picked a place within walking distance, and off we went. The Plaza Mexicana was busy, noisy, and warm. I ordered a margarita and a meal (enchiladas) and enjoyed the drink and the chips. The salsa was a little authoritative so I ordered a second margarita.
Margarita! OMG! The second must have been a double! The food was very good, the margarita was great, and the sopapillas were passable. (I ate them!) Then we “meandered” our way back to the motel, or rather I “meandered” with the Girl wondering what was wrong with me. The evening light was good, but there was something wrong with my eyes, so my captures were less than optimal, to say the least.
Fed, hot, tired, and a little buzzed, I fed the Girl, we went out to the grassy area so she could have her toilet, and then retired for the evening. The A/C was great and there was little on TV. All was good after a long, enjoyable day and I fell asleep readily.
An idea occurred to me a few days ago. I should write about the tools I’m using now that I no longer have a house. Living small requires rethinking almost everything one does. I still cook for myself, whether I’m on the road or staying someplace. That means there are certain tools that are required. I’m learning as I go.
A couple of years ago I bought this small Bodum personal French press. I also have a small hand grinder (that I’ll write about later). I bought the press so that I could make a single cup of coffee in the afternoon if I wanted coffee but didn’t want to make a full pot. It got some use when I had the house, but not as much as I expected.
So, I started carrying it when I travel. However, using it requires heat to boil water. (There is another topic for writing. Don’t worry, I have a story there as well.) After this last trip, I realized I really like making my own coffee. McDonald’s coffee is much improved over the last couple of years with their new approach. (Kudos to McDonald’s for making that improvement! It’s one of the things I really like about the store.) But I really prefer my own choice of beans (or grounds) and my own method of preparation. I’m not really a snob, but I know what I like.
The body of the Bodum is glass, so care is required. But, it’s relatively easy to clean and is heat resistant. Just be careful with the body to mitigate the potential for breakage. The screen is fairly coarse so a coarse grind is required. Use is simple — grind coffee, add grounds to press, boil water (I suggest boiling water while grinding coffee), add water, steep, stir before pressing (I don’t do this step), and then press slowly.
If you are not picky about sediment in the bottom of your cup, the grind is less relevant. I don’t mind a little sediment, but think I’ll work on my grind to see if I can get it a bit more coarse than I currently have. Once you decant the coffee, set the press aside to cool while you enjoy your coffee. Then dump out the grounds and rinse the press. If oils accumulate, I suggest wiping them out with a paper (or cloth) towel. I will not use detergent on my press.
It’s simple, reliable, produces consistent coffee, and is easy to keep clean. With care, this press will last me the remainder of my life. I like it and would recommend it.