tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-56299662536230582542024-03-12T18:19:19.968-07:00Travelling Cross Country ... Just Biggie And Us!Matthew Weinsteinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14951469890072862130noreply@blogger.comBlogger20125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5629966253623058254.post-37887218024108304592015-10-30T19:16:00.004-07:002015-11-04T08:42:28.472-08:00Santa Fe—We Can See Brooklyn From Here. Well, In Our Mind's Eye.Tuesday, October 13, 2015<br />
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From Flagstaff, Arizona and the Grand Canyon we continued our trek east. Brooklyn and home were calling us. By the time we would arrive there it would have been a five week, two day trip during which time we would have driven almost 9,000 miles and passed through 21 states (some of them twice, coming and going).<br />
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It was time. And now It's also time to put this blog to sleep—a wonderful diary of our sojourn, complete with photos and descriptions of what we saw, where we went, who we met and more. We'll enjoy, I'm quite sure, looking back at this electronic journal some day, remembering our amazing journey and all that we saw.<br />
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So my final post covers the remainder of our trip from the Grand Canyon to Santa Fe and through the southwest. Then into Arkansas, Tennessee and up into Kentucky and Ohio (where we stopped for a second time at my sister's lake house) and from Ohio, our last long day back to Brooklyn. That's 2,500 miles—a lot to cover in one post. But here goes...<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">CLICK TO SEE THIS MAP LARGER.<br />
Here's the last leg of our trip back east: From Flagstaff, Arizona (Grand Canyon) to Oklahoma City to<br />
Louisville, Kentucky to Sherrodsville, Ohio and, finally, to home in Brooklyn, New York—that's<br />
2,500 miles out of a total of 8,800 miles and 21 states. Whew!</td></tr>
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Before we got to Santa Fe and New Mexico, and a bit east of the Grand Canyon and while cruising along on Interstate 40, we saw an exit sign: Winslow. Hmm—why did that name sound so familiar? Oh yes! The Eagles song had impressed the name of this obscure town on millions of our generation's memories: <i>Take It Easy</i>, written by Jackson Browne and performed by both him and the Eagles. Of course we got off the highway and discovered that everyone over the age of sixty does the same thing as this one-road town's claim to fame is that immortal song. The town Mothers and Fathers have erected a wall (no building behind it; just a wall, painted a sweet mural on it and called that corner <i>Standing On The Corner</i> park.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-D4pa35jxOGE/VjQp1mIIhvI/AAAAAAAAXek/iZ3xizWRdrM/s1600/DSC03310.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-D4pa35jxOGE/VjQp1mIIhvI/AAAAAAAAXek/iZ3xizWRdrM/s640/DSC03310.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And yes, it's on the old and famous Route 66. "Standing on a corner in Winslow, Arizona, what a pretty sight<br />
to see...."</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-N5t9Joe8YD8/VjQp1z75bHI/AAAAAAAAXeo/088edABmE-0/s1600/DSC03319.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-N5t9Joe8YD8/VjQp1z75bHI/AAAAAAAAXeo/088edABmE-0/s640/DSC03319.jpg" width="460" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There's a woman, a dog and Jackson Browne with his guitar.<br />
In the back on the wall—<span style="font-size: 12.8px;">a girl, my lord, in a flatbed For</span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">d.…</span><br />
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<i>Listen to Jackson Browne sing Take It Easy.</i></div>
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After a while we entered New Mexico, drove through Albuquerque and ended the day's travel in Santa Fe. We'd spend a few hours the next day, exploring the town square and its historic buildings. Santa Fe is the oldest capital city in North America and its Palace Of The Governors, a beautiful old adobe edifice, now the state's history museum, is said to be the oldest continuosly-used public building in the country. Under its porticos, Native American crafts artisans were selling their wares to the tourists who are the town's economic mainstay<br />
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We promised ourselves a return trip to Santa Fe to give the town its due. With its beautiful architecture, rich history and artsy vibe, we wanted more but, again, home was calling.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f5ef4NbB428/VjQmxKGEe5I/AAAAAAAAXd0/j9EcYi4XYS4/s1600/DSC03346.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f5ef4NbB428/VjQmxKGEe5I/AAAAAAAAXd0/j9EcYi4XYS4/s640/DSC03346.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bright blue skies and adobe construction: Santa Fe!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Palace Of The Governors is the oldest continuously-used public building in the United States.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Adobe style buildings are the required mode<br />
if building in Santa Fe's historic district.<br />
We loved their simple beauty and color.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gorgeous adobe house on a back street off the main square in Santa Fe.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">New Mexico. Yes!</td></tr>
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We left Santa Fe and we pointed our chariot eastward again.On our way, we'd cross the Texas panhandle, driving through Amarillo and its cattle stockyards which were adjacent to I-40. If you ever want to find out what the word "stench" actually means, take that ride . For miles before and after the yards, a horrible smell of urine, ammonia and dung permeated the air, making its way into the car. Enough to make one a vegetarian—I thought about the poor animals on their way to slaughter who had to inhale this noxious gas that surrounded them.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PK2qkwQQb-g/VjTa05kNdYI/AAAAAAAAXfM/4I217-VxYzY/s1600/DSC03430.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PK2qkwQQb-g/VjTa05kNdYI/AAAAAAAAXfM/4I217-VxYzY/s400/DSC03430.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We crossed a snip of Texas and passed by stockyards near Amarillo.<br />
The stench permeated the air for miles before and after.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Little Biggie is dreaming of Brooklyn as we drive eastward.<br />
He's sitting on my lap, basking in the sun as Stacey drives.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Well, well, well, eco-friendly wind turbines in the Oil State of Texas. A lovely sight to behold: thousands<br />
of them generating power without the slightest trace of carbon dioxide exhaled into our atmosphere.</td></tr>
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<i>Hey Lyle—where you from?</i></div>
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It would be a 14-hour slog to Memphis,Tennessee so we decided to cut that segment in half, stopping in Oklahoma City, about eight hours away and then on to Memphis the next day. Oklahoma was a long slog but it too had something interesting to offer us: Okemah! When I saw the exit sign on I-40, again it called out to me. We recently celebrated the 100th birthday of America's great poet and songwriter—Woody Guthrie and this was his birthplace. Off we got again, to explore his home town and the park that was created in his memory. Another worthwhile detour.<br />
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<i>While you're reading, listen to Woody sing</i></div>
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<i>about the beauty of our country—but also its contradiction—</i></div>
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<i>beauty and rewards denied to the women and men</i></div>
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<i>who work in its Pastures Of Plenty. </i><br />
<i>Woody—so ahead of his time!</i></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Bqfkx94V2kc/VjTfdnaLH2I/AAAAAAAAXfg/v1k5UfJ9Pu8/s1600/DSC03452.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="403" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Bqfkx94V2kc/VjTfdnaLH2I/AAAAAAAAXfg/v1k5UfJ9Pu8/s640/DSC03452.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Welcome to Okemah, Oklahoma—Home of Woody Guthrie.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hmmm...What would Woody do?</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sgNIY2TnQRE/VjTfdaESurI/AAAAAAAAXfc/eR6XMQO1hFU/s1600/DSC03461.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="251" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sgNIY2TnQRE/VjTfdaESurI/AAAAAAAAXfc/eR6XMQO1hFU/s400/DSC03461.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Even the town's water tower remembers Woody's name.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A lovely mural in the park.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Memorial stones dedicated by so many supporters—each with one of Woddy's<br />
great ballads inscribed on it.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-n9uLGmZu4Pg/VjTfiHUo13I/AAAAAAAAXgM/j1VmiFTRjx8/s1600/DSC03477.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-n9uLGmZu4Pg/VjTfiHUo13I/AAAAAAAAXgM/j1VmiFTRjx8/s400/DSC03477.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The park's memorial plaque.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Vr9mWswXtRA/VjTfjeOsYQI/AAAAAAAAXgQ/7L_7RL4lWps/s1600/DSC03480.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Vr9mWswXtRA/VjTfjeOsYQI/AAAAAAAAXgQ/7L_7RL4lWps/s640/DSC03480.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More memorial stones.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PucRT8Op-bU/VjTfj7aECbI/AAAAAAAAXgU/aePHt3uL7Js/s1600/DSC03482.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PucRT8Op-bU/VjTfj7aECbI/AAAAAAAAXgU/aePHt3uL7Js/s640/DSC03482.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here's the Seeger family's stone—beautiful. I didn't know that song, "Cleano"—but now I do.<br />
It's one of Woody's innumerable songs written for children and it's wonderful!</td></tr>
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="100" msallowfullscreen="" src="https://app.box.com/embed/preview/91k6m9b2kncyaxhk4mfy1mmwh2kcyech?direction=ASC&theme=dark" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="330"> </iframe>
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<i>And here's a rendition of this sweet kid's song </i><br />
<i>whose title is </i><i>enscribed on the Seeger stone. </i><br />
<i>Listen to </i>Cleano.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WTX_VK_61BI/VjTfkHPZwRI/AAAAAAAAXgg/BjXlT-UuVes/s1600/DSC03485.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WTX_VK_61BI/VjTfkHPZwRI/AAAAAAAAXgg/BjXlT-UuVes/s640/DSC03485.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A beautiful statue of the bard graces this sweet little park.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IV2DeJwxjKU/VjTfmIdAMaI/AAAAAAAAXgs/rOCs8EiASU0/s1600/DSC03488.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IV2DeJwxjKU/VjTfmIdAMaI/AAAAAAAAXgs/rOCs8EiASU0/s640/DSC03488.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hello Woody—it's been good to know ya!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LUojKk6i2tE/VjTfm5JkD1I/AAAAAAAAXg4/jUCly3Zo184/s1600/DSC03497.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LUojKk6i2tE/VjTfm5JkD1I/AAAAAAAAXg4/jUCly3Zo184/s640/DSC03497.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A view of the park and a great mural.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-N6VvNjLV_q0/VjTfnulzocI/AAAAAAAAXg8/h8oqOu7_ERM/s1600/DSC03515.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-N6VvNjLV_q0/VjTfnulzocI/AAAAAAAAXg8/h8oqOu7_ERM/s640/DSC03515.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The town of Okemah. Main Street—like so many American towns that the<br />
interstates and malls have resulted in loss of vitality and life.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZgGR1I09YNY/VjTfo35XUpI/AAAAAAAAXhM/6dcQCdIQFxk/s1600/DSC03519.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZgGR1I09YNY/VjTfo35XUpI/AAAAAAAAXhM/6dcQCdIQFxk/s640/DSC03519.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I was amazed at the number of movie theaters in these western cities and towns, many of which have been<br />
restored and are still in use—some small like this one, some grand and magnificent in their design and stature.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ot7TBrs-aZ0/VjTfpLcAhjI/AAAAAAAAXhQ/JuwU4pO_BwA/s1600/DSC03531.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ot7TBrs-aZ0/VjTfpLcAhjI/AAAAAAAAXhQ/JuwU4pO_BwA/s640/DSC03531.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Little Biggie wants to put his imprint in cement in front of Okeman's Crystal Theater.</td></tr>
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We'd been Memphis many years earlier, when our son was in school in Nashville. Our motel was in West Memphis, Arkansas on the west side of the Mississippi. But for dinner we took a short drive into Memphis proper for a wonderful barbecue dinner at a place called <i>Vergos Rendezvous. </i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-U4PexxkFXtk/VjTjFvtnavI/AAAAAAAAXho/AUacWe23lWQ/s1600/DSC03569.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="278" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-U4PexxkFXtk/VjTjFvtnavI/AAAAAAAAXho/AUacWe23lWQ/s400/DSC03569.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Great (really great) barbecue at Vergos Rendezvous in Memphis.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Eg0b3_4nSRA/VjTjFkAIZYI/AAAAAAAAXhk/On1Tl0m7G7Q/s1600/DSC03572.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Eg0b3_4nSRA/VjTjFkAIZYI/AAAAAAAAXhk/On1Tl0m7G7Q/s640/DSC03572.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A pitcher of draught, barbecue and a beautiful woman—at Chrales Vergos Rendezvous restaurant in Memphis.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LP7jMEpAsB4/VjTjFRCNmGI/AAAAAAAAXhg/Hf5Djus7xEc/s1600/DSC03581.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LP7jMEpAsB4/VjTjFRCNmGI/AAAAAAAAXhg/Hf5Djus7xEc/s400/DSC03581.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is the place—not easy to find as it's down a little alley not out<br />
on the street as its address indicated.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sUCdDXBJd84/VjTjG2fNrWI/AAAAAAAAXh4/mUQsDCcoRVs/s1600/DSC03586.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sUCdDXBJd84/VjTjG2fNrWI/AAAAAAAAXh4/mUQsDCcoRVs/s640/DSC03586.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The restaurant was down this alley from Memphis' iconic old hotel: The Peabody.<br />
We had trouble finding it—until we asked a resident.</td></tr>
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The next stop after Memphis was Louisville—not much to write about here as it was just an overnight rest stop to the east of the city. Again we traveled on, now northbound for a while as we headed up to my sister's place in Ohio. But we did want to make a brief stop in Cincinatti. It was here, a few years ago on a separate road trip with my friend, Lonnie, that I discovered some of the charms of this somewhat Southern city—specifically a miniature Brooklyn Bridge, designed and built by the man who designed the genuine article. The John A. Roebling bridge, as it's called, connects Cincinatti, Ohio and Covington, Kentucky. It spans the Ohio River and Roebling practiced his craft by constructing this bridge and others, a few years before he and his son built their masterpiece over New York's East River.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-o4CxR1abNDo/VjUFhmUyl1I/AAAAAAAAXjI/Q3dNxQ_Jlxo/s1600/DSC03678.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-o4CxR1abNDo/VjUFhmUyl1I/AAAAAAAAXjI/Q3dNxQ_Jlxo/s640/DSC03678.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The John A. Roebling bridge, as seen from Covington, Kentucky. Cincinatti is visible across the Ohio.<br />
Does this bridge remind you of another, more famous one—let's say in Brooklyn?</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qa5AX-qvkfo/VjUFhyKaB9I/AAAAAAAAXjM/a-IXpr6WcWo/s1600/DSC03681.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qa5AX-qvkfo/VjUFhyKaB9I/AAAAAAAAXjM/a-IXpr6WcWo/s400/DSC03681.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Originally called the Cincinnati-Covington bridge, it was renamed in honor<br />
of its designer, John Roebling, who went on to build his masterpiece—the<br />
Brooklyn Bridge. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-E7fSzHEO8p0/VjUFh0VAnuI/AAAAAAAAXjQ/RLJuaI7igrM/s1600/DSC03685.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-E7fSzHEO8p0/VjUFh0VAnuI/AAAAAAAAXjQ/RLJuaI7igrM/s640/DSC03685.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We're gonna walk across this bridge from Kentucky to Ohio. But half way there we turned back—it was a<br />
tad scary, looking down into the murky Ohio far below.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SdKLg64Ux-I/VjUFi2iNQ4I/AAAAAAAAXjg/xpJWhE7wUgA/s1600/DSC03693.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SdKLg64Ux-I/VjUFi2iNQ4I/AAAAAAAAXjg/xpJWhE7wUgA/s640/DSC03693.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cincinattians and Covingtonians regularly walk back and forth to enjoy lunch on the other side <br />
or just a nice stroll with great views.</td></tr>
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Let me take a moment again to give praise to Google Maps and navigation. As we approached Cincinatti on I-75, Google made an announcement:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"There's a one-and-a-half hour delay on I-75. Would you like a shorter route?"</blockquote>
Duh! I hit "accept" and the app routed me around the trouble and back on. Voilá! We would have sat in stand-still traffic not having that friendly suggestion.<br />
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We were now within striking distance of my sister, Duba's, lake house in eastern Ohio. We passed through Columbus and an hour or so later we arrived. Stacey and Duba prepared a great dinner. Biggie romped on her back lawn that spralls down to Atwood Lake—a conservation lake which, at this time of year was surrounded by beautiful foliage and was devoid of people and boats. An added bonus was the presence of my brother-in-law, Buddy. It was the fitting way to close out our cross country road trip.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-T8e1t0WYYa0/VjUL_RP0KQI/AAAAAAAAXjw/hC8_GYNIMdA/s1600/DSC03733.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-T8e1t0WYYa0/VjUL_RP0KQI/AAAAAAAAXjw/hC8_GYNIMdA/s400/DSC03733.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Biggie in Ohio at Duba's: so glad to be out of the back seat<br />
on her big expanse of lawn that looks out over beautiful Atwood Lake.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mzqX3ECZLIs/VjUL_p6t5jI/AAAAAAAAXj0/bYn79-KJr7M/s1600/DSC03737.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mzqX3ECZLIs/VjUL_p6t5jI/AAAAAAAAXj0/bYn79-KJr7M/s640/DSC03737.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Foliage and leaves in eastern Ohio.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YnpfvuEN4d0/VjUL_m1oa9I/AAAAAAAAXj4/IF5owmCvPZI/s1600/DSC03742.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YnpfvuEN4d0/VjUL_m1oa9I/AAAAAAAAXj4/IF5owmCvPZI/s640/DSC03742.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The sun was rising and we'd be heading for Brooklyn soon.<br />
Can you wait to see your old house Biggie?</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hYubh2KnyRk/VjUMCgLGmXI/AAAAAAAAXkQ/AOKfAdODnyo/s1600/DSC03744.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hYubh2KnyRk/VjUMCgLGmXI/AAAAAAAAXkQ/AOKfAdODnyo/s640/DSC03744.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My sister's beautiful lake house in Sherrodsville, Ohio.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5P8iFQwjz-g/VjUMCktcmbI/AAAAAAAAXkM/JZWiPiyL0MI/s1600/DSC03752.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5P8iFQwjz-g/VjUMCktcmbI/AAAAAAAAXkM/JZWiPiyL0MI/s640/DSC03752.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Biggie came along with us—9,000 miles—this is a great little<br />
dog and a wonderful travel companion!</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-baJtrcvzKcg/VjUMCO2JnrI/AAAAAAAAXkI/_GoWK29Cq8Q/s1600/DSC03760.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-baJtrcvzKcg/VjUMCO2JnrI/AAAAAAAAXkI/_GoWK29Cq8Q/s400/DSC03760.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Buddy and Duba. Great hosts!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-E6e7FbcCnGM/VjUMEL3oMVI/AAAAAAAAXkg/8mXp90iimUs/s1600/DSC03764.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-E6e7FbcCnGM/VjUMEL3oMVI/AAAAAAAAXkg/8mXp90iimUs/s400/DSC03764.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My bro-in-law and sister, Buddy and Duba.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VOsIkZUPSVk/VjUMEctz6ZI/AAAAAAAAXkk/HPnsKBI36b8/s1600/DSC03766.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="506" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VOsIkZUPSVk/VjUMEctz6ZI/AAAAAAAAXkk/HPnsKBI36b8/s640/DSC03766.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Four beings—a dog and three people.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--c_JyHwygO4/VjUMEsJ-ARI/AAAAAAAAXko/qNVUuAO14_0/s1600/DSC03776.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="328" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--c_JyHwygO4/VjUMEsJ-ARI/AAAAAAAAXko/qNVUuAO14_0/s400/DSC03776.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me (Matt), Buddy and Duba.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YARrOweHCEo/VjUMFUaaLDI/AAAAAAAAXkw/EayM7m--k00/s1600/DSC03782.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="296" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YARrOweHCEo/VjUMFUaaLDI/AAAAAAAAXkw/EayM7m--k00/s400/DSC03782.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My sweet sis.</td></tr>
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The next day we left early, taking the Pennsylvania Turnpike after crossing a bit of West Virginia and passing by Duba and Buddy's home base of Pittsburgh. When we pulled up in front of our Brooklyn brownstone—well it was a sight for sore eyes. Biggie went beserk. I imagine he had either forgotten about it (not likely) or was so very happy, nay ecstatic, to be home again and not cooped up, day after day, in the back seat of a Subaru.<br />
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You know what? We agreed with him. I hope you enjoyed this narrative. Perhaps it gives you some ideas on a trip that you might take some day. Perhaps you just enjoyed coming along with . In either case, hope to see you on the road!<br />
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A bientot!<br />
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—Matt (and Stacey and Biggie...from Brooklyn)<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">Home Sweet Home—9,000 miles and five weeks later!</span></td></tr>
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Matthew Weinsteinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14951469890072862130noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5629966253623058254.post-36995986136632680192015-10-24T14:48:00.001-07:002015-10-27T19:33:53.806-07:00The Grand Canyon ... Beyond Grand!<iframe frameborder="0" height="88" view_file_only="yes" src="https://app.box.com/embed/preview/n4x67owcim9pxhg9ilr6kx2jt0seqbvh?theme=dark" width="500"></iframe><br />
<i>While or after you're reading, please enjoy a snippet from Ferde Grofé's </i><br />
<i>Grand Canyon Suite - III - On The Trail.</i><br />
<br />
<br />
Thursday, October 8, 2015<br />
<br />
We parked ourselves in a motel in Flagstaff, Arizona, after having left Los Angeles and traversed the Mojave Desert in California. Flagstaff is kind of a gateway to the Grand Canyon. Having said that, it's still a good eighty miles north and west to reach Grand Canyon Village (GCV) inside the national park. There are beautiful hotels inside the park but they were booked and very expensive. GCV is not really a village but a collection of National Park services: inns, hotels, restaurants, gift shops, groceries, etc. From there you can drive east on Desert View Drive (Arizona Route 64) or, using the park's shuttle bus, travel west (see the map below). Both routes run along the south rim of the canyon, with eye-popping, heart-stopping views. We took the Desert View since we had our own car and dogs are not allowed on the shuttle buses.<br />
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Nothing can prepare you for that first view as you drive into a rest stop, exit your car and look out over this amazing creation, carved over 20 million years, by the sculpting action of the Colorado River through mile-deep layers of sandstone that comprise the Grand Canyon. You've seen photographs and films, you've heard it described and written about. But until you actually cast eyes on it—a difficult task because of its immense size and scope—and try to take it in in all its splendor and enormity, one can't understand how it could possibly even exist. Indescribable and hard to do any kind of justice to it with a camera, at least with my skill set and for the brief time I was there.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9_VW60rL63U/Viv7D36zX6I/AAAAAAAAXXc/I-_7cAB98kk/s1600/DSC03041.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9_VW60rL63U/Viv7D36zX6I/AAAAAAAAXXc/I-_7cAB98kk/s400/DSC03041.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We entered the park below Grand Canyon Village after waiting in<br />
line for half an hour. And this was <i>after</i> Labor Day! But to get here, we<br />
traveled some 80 miles on a lovely road, U.S. Route 180, bordered with<br />
magnificent pine forests.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NxQaLfqKMKM/Viv8EGxxWuI/AAAAAAAAXXo/ZIJrsRkxDLQ/s1600/grand%2Bcanyon%2Bmap.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="342" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NxQaLfqKMKM/Viv8EGxxWuI/AAAAAAAAXXo/ZIJrsRkxDLQ/s400/grand%2Bcanyon%2Bmap.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> CLICK TO SEE IT LARGER.<br />
We started in Flagstaff (bottom) and drove 80 miles to reach Grand<br />
Canyon Village. Then we drove east along the South Rim for<br />
amazing views of the canyon.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tD9qYdl3q4E/Viv9p1mlRYI/AAAAAAAAXXw/67iFiwTUPG8/s1600/DSC03043.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tD9qYdl3q4E/Viv9p1mlRYI/AAAAAAAAXXw/67iFiwTUPG8/s640/DSC03043.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was our first view of the canyon. We got out of our car, turned our faces to it and were speechless.<br />
The Colorado River is not even visible from here and there innumerable side canyons, gulches, other<br />
streams and rivers running into it. It's five miles across from our vantage here on the South Rim, across<br />
the canyon to its North Rim.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
When you first look out you don't know where to rest your eye or what to look at, so diverse are the myriad of surfaces and geological carvings and the variety of colors and flora. It's really overwhelming. I also felt like it was so big and so grand that it was inaccessible to me—look but don't touch. Not like Stacey, Biggie and me traipsing around Prospect Park for example. People do hike it and climb it and camp it. But for many, and that included us this time, it's something to <i>look</i> at and take in but not to participate with.<br />
<br />
We drove east along the South Rim, stopping at many of the pullouts along the way, each offering a different view of the majestic canyon in front of us and below. As we reached the end of that road, we finally got a glimpse of the mighty river which flowed so tirelessly for eons to produce this masterpiece. There was the Colorado, miles away, but visible, running along and still producing changes to this day as it will for years to come. On second thought, maybe not because, once again, climate change and demands for water are said to be reducing the mighty Colorado to a trickle of its former volume. That thought gave me pause to contemplate the damage that our species (and the greed of our modern economic system) has wreaked on this planet.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8BWkdCdhUC4/ViwESU0j1sI/AAAAAAAAXYE/kyzzYqicj-0/s1600/DSC03050.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8BWkdCdhUC4/ViwESU0j1sI/AAAAAAAAXYE/kyzzYqicj-0/s640/DSC03050.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Humans look tiny standing in front of the Grand Canyon.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Eag28T1hFaA/ViwESOU427I/AAAAAAAAXYA/pAzyLD7_xxo/s1600/DSC03056.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Eag28T1hFaA/ViwESOU427I/AAAAAAAAXYA/pAzyLD7_xxo/s400/DSC03056.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">CLICK TO SEE ANY PHOTO LARGER - <br />
THEN USE YOUR KEYBOARD'S ARROW KEYS TO NAVIGATE<br />
THROUGH ALL THE PHOTOS ENLARGED.<br />
Water sits in hollow pools on weathered rocks - another agent of the erosive<br />
process that <span style="font-size: 12.8px;">continues to shape the canyon today and tomorrow.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-T8N6oO3ziTA/ViwESe4NI-I/AAAAAAAAXYI/0S2YOGlnNtI/s1600/DSC03072.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="292" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-T8N6oO3ziTA/ViwESe4NI-I/AAAAAAAAXYI/0S2YOGlnNtI/s400/DSC03072.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I dunno. Many people get way too close to the edge for my comfort level. <br />
And in fact, there are always a few deaths each year as people fall down—<br />
way down. We couldn't even see the Colorado River from large parts of the<br />
South Rim, so channelled and convoluted is the canyoun.<br />
It's five miles across to the North Rim!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-r3_KuzOW4YE/ViwETUBd6II/AAAAAAAAXYY/isZOPOBcuGc/s1600/DSC03073.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-r3_KuzOW4YE/ViwETUBd6II/AAAAAAAAXYY/isZOPOBcuGc/s640/DSC03073.jpg" width="468" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We took good care not to let this little doggie get too close to the edge. <br />
We held tight, very tight, to his leash.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-V3-u5zgXNDw/ViwEUh08MHI/AAAAAAAAXYg/vTHfdRr69mU/s1600/DSC03087.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-V3-u5zgXNDw/ViwEUh08MHI/AAAAAAAAXYg/vTHfdRr69mU/s640/DSC03087.jpg" width="425" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Anyone see a duck's face on that rock?<br />
A tour leader, who we eavesdropped on, talked about how people see various objects <br />
in the formations in the Grand Canyon.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xRF5Hl-_pOM/ViwEVGs3r9I/AAAAAAAAXYo/SCrjy0Af5Dc/s1600/DSC03100.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xRF5Hl-_pOM/ViwEVGs3r9I/AAAAAAAAXYo/SCrjy0Af5Dc/s640/DSC03100.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One's eye tries to pick out details of this location or that <span style="font-size: 12.8px;">but there's such a myriad of different surfaces, valleys, </span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12.8px;">mesas and sub-canyons, </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">that it's hard to focus. Your eye constantly flits from one spot to another.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-f4k2Ixm414U/ViwEXdj-qtI/AAAAAAAAXZA/2Y_FpMboPS4/s1600/DSC03106.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-f4k2Ixm414U/ViwEXdj-qtI/AAAAAAAAXZA/2Y_FpMboPS4/s640/DSC03106.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Love this shot! <span style="font-size: 12.8px;"> People are standing way out on an outcrop. That affords a good perspective to my camera,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12.8px;">demonstrating </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">the massive size of the canyon. </span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dLtTnmO10Lk/ViwEXGtIkbI/AAAAAAAAXY4/LucWvbEsAR0/s1600/DSC03136.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="270" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dLtTnmO10Lk/ViwEXGtIkbI/AAAAAAAAXY4/LucWvbEsAR0/s400/DSC03136.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Come on! Does he really get a better picture by standing on a 3-foot high wall?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3OhAyXH1fE0/ViwEXVqzjFI/AAAAAAAAXY8/F1xZ_KWbga0/s1600/DSC03139.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3OhAyXH1fE0/ViwEXVqzjFI/AAAAAAAAXY8/F1xZ_KWbga0/s640/DSC03139.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amazing views in every direction! And lots of weathered<br />
wood and trees from severe weather at various times of year—a striking contrast!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
It was getting late. The descending sun was beginning to paint the canyon in golden hues. In the distance, out on the surrounding desert, dark clouds were pouring rain . Is that where we were headed, I wondered.<br />
<br />
The route that we took along the South Rim was only a 23 mile part of the day's long journey. But it would be 57 miles to reach Cameron, Arizona, which lay east and outside the park and then another 53 miles to arrive back at our motel in Flagstaff again, completing a triangular circuit of 188 miles for the day. That gives you an idea of just how. great the distances are out west to get from Point A to Pont B and then back again.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Sq9KSQtXGqc/VizIdL6kh9I/AAAAAAAAXaE/IRDHrcYHA2c/s1600/DSC03280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Sq9KSQtXGqc/VizIdL6kh9I/AAAAAAAAXaE/IRDHrcYHA2c/s640/DSC03280.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Late day sun was beginning to paint the canyon in deep golden hues.<br />
And here we finally spied the agent of change: the Colorado, still cutting<br />
the canyon to this day.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ahWwa4wPHMs/VizImFcfiNI/AAAAAAAAXaM/W8-_R7meTWE/s1600/DSC03215.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ahWwa4wPHMs/VizImFcfiNI/AAAAAAAAXaM/W8-_R7meTWE/s640/DSC03215.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In the distance, dark clouds were pouring their rain onto surrounding prairie.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
We made one last stop just before leaving the park at its eastern gate. This was at the Desert View Watchtower, built by architect Mary Colter in 1932 to recall ancient Pueblo stone viewing towers.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IldDiZRD2MY/VizM6HdTl7I/AAAAAAAAXac/_8w7c7YtKDA/s1600/DSC03254.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IldDiZRD2MY/VizM6HdTl7I/AAAAAAAAXac/_8w7c7YtKDA/s400/DSC03254.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Southwestern architecht, Mary Colter's <i>Desert View Watchtower,</i> built in 1932<br />
and modeled after ancient Pueblo stone viewing towers. It appears to<br />
be constructed, like theirs, with only stone and mortar but it actually<br />
has a steel superstructure. An amazing piece.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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</div>
</div>
<div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DZXbQ-uCx-I/Vi0Fp0RiVSI/AAAAAAAAXa4/PWzXbN1eyds/s1600/DSC03269.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DZXbQ-uCx-I/Vi0Fp0RiVSI/AAAAAAAAXa4/PWzXbN1eyds/s640/DSC03269.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Grand Canyon is one of the most popular visitor attractions of all the National Parks and for good reason.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SOQkd7E4fWU/Vi0Fpz5lpPI/AAAAAAAAXa8/Csh9NICrZMI/s1600/DSC03274.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SOQkd7E4fWU/Vi0Fpz5lpPI/AAAAAAAAXa8/Csh9NICrZMI/s640/DSC03274.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I suppose that, depending on the time of the day and the angle of light, photoraphers can<br />
depict the canyon with many different moods. That's another aspect that limited time restricted me from.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nGabVURkiFs/Vi5g_SMvDGI/AAAAAAAAXbo/mB-ImQN9MiM/s1600/DSC03250.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nGabVURkiFs/Vi5g_SMvDGI/AAAAAAAAXbo/mB-ImQN9MiM/s640/DSC03250.jpg" width="404" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Late light plays on this tree and the canyon glows beyond it.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rGHMo1baEc4/Vi0FpTARr8I/AAAAAAAAXa0/SYXyJx-42tY/s1600/DSC03287.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rGHMo1baEc4/Vi0FpTARr8I/AAAAAAAAXa0/SYXyJx-42tY/s400/DSC03287.jpg" width="272" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'll leave you with one last shot. These<br />
Selfie Sticks are ubiquitous and, I think, kind of<br />
weird but almost comical. We've renamed them Narcissist Sticks.<br />
(For those of you who have one, no offense intended,<br />
just funny, IMHO.)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
We drove out and away from this magical place. The surrounding area to the east was also marked by a canyon-gouging process, but these lesser gorges were being carved by a tributary, the Little Colorado, as it traversed Indian reservation lands.<br />
<br />
It's hard to believe but developers are threatening the sanctity and pristine beauty of this amazing piece of wilderness which nature worked to create over a span of twenty million years. You can read about this insanely stupid and greedy plan <a href="http://nyti.ms/1ovh52k" target="_blank">here</a> and write your Senator and Representative, demanding they take action to block this desecration.<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
The light was fading quickly and we continued our long drive in the dark, musing about the grandeur of the sights seen today. Tomorrow we'd continue our inevitable drive east, stopping in beautiful Santa Fe.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Until then. —Matt </div>Matthew Weinsteinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14951469890072862130noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5629966253623058254.post-18891998577991239262015-10-19T19:47:00.000-07:002015-10-25T09:35:15.304-07:00A Few Days In The City Of Angels<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="88" msallowfullscreen="" src="https://app.box.com/embed/preview/mr8fdpul4cyonzvwqyfanpscr2ovriik?theme=dark" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="500"></iframe><br />
<i>Listen to Randy Newman's satirical take on Los Angeles.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="88" msallowfullscreen="" src="https://app.box.com/embed/preview/egp8wxwhvt10y1wgzbwike4rnr6b2pt4?theme=dark" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="500"></iframe> <br />
<i>And here's Loudon Wainwright III complaining about how sunny it is in LaLa Land.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<br />
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
October 5, 2015</div>
<br />
Since I'm actually writing this from Brooklyn, not in Los Angeles—I've been home since Tuesday, it's kind of anti-climatic to be writing a blog post about time spent in Los Angeles with friends and family of a week or so ago. But I'm compulsive, you might have noticed, a nagging feeling that I have to finish it if only for the sake of a having a complete record of our trip that can be looked back on. People travel widely, take 1000s of photos and then can't place where, when or what. That's not my cup of coffee. Besides, you might be wondering (or maybe you're not) what ever happened to me. and my travel posts The last you heard from me, I was going on about Hearst's Castle and then, well, nothing. So on I go. If nobody else reads this except me, that's OK too. But I hope you will.<br />
<br />
====<br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-d3b62mmEcKY/ViWqujGboeI/AAAAAAAAXMo/ykjtT3GsySY/s1600/DSC02115.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><br /></a>We left the town of San Simeon after touring Hearst's fabulous abode. perched on a mountain with spectacular view of the Pacific. The coastal road was, as it had been for the past week, breathtaking and achingly beautiful. I've heard this for years from many people who had negotiated the Pacific Coast Highway. I can tell you all, it's very true and I highly recommend taking this trip—put it it on your bucket list.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-E0AIiBtTdag/ViWsxFzlHhI/AAAAAAAAXM4/eKqa0DJ6-W8/s1600/temp.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="331" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-E0AIiBtTdag/ViWsxFzlHhI/AAAAAAAAXM4/eKqa0DJ6-W8/s400/temp.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">CLICK TO SEE LARGER<br />
This is our route on the last day of our PCH drive.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Weeks earlier, in Yellowstone, while gaping at bubbling pools and shooting geysers, I spied another tourist. He looked like something out of a western movie of yesteryear: His face was leathery and aged. He wore floppy and well-worn cowboy hat, a belt with a large silver, western buckle, a western style shirt with pearly snap buttons and decrepit cowboy boots—a genuine cowpoke. Or so I thought. I engaged him in conversation and when I told him we were eventually headed down the coast, he regaled me with must-see places. One was a "Danish town" in California. "Just look for the pea soup sign and you'll be there." Hmm. Danish town? So what, who cares? But pea soup! That sounded interesting. Then the cowpoke ambled off to his RV with British Columbia plates on it. Hrrumph...a Canadian tourist playing a cowpoke!<br />
<br />
Despite his pretend getup, at least one of his stories was genuine: the pea soup saga. As we traveled the last leg of the coast highway, I spotted the sign on the outskirts of Buellton, California. We got off the road and there it was: Andersen's Pea Soup—actually a sprawling restaurant and hotel, a little Dansh empire, in a California town, which specialized in Scandinavian food. But Mr. Andersen had spread his fame using the appeal of pea soup. Strange, but it worked for me and I'm sure for many others also.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9w4GNBaSmrw/ViWqT3FqltI/AAAAAAAAXMU/l8uxMPDtsnE/s1600/DSC02119.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9w4GNBaSmrw/ViWqT3FqltI/AAAAAAAAXMU/l8uxMPDtsnE/s640/DSC02119.jpg" width="387" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's Andersen's Inn but Mr. Andersen<br />
wants you to focus on his famous soup<br />
so every sign on his sprawling site<br />
calls your attention to that!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qh4kQMkCZts/ViWq8oWIQCI/AAAAAAAAXMs/uiFN7qVvfCY/s1600/DSC02104.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qh4kQMkCZts/ViWq8oWIQCI/AAAAAAAAXMs/uiFN7qVvfCY/s400/DSC02104.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes, it was good. Very good. Stacey and I weren't<br />
in the least bit hungry but we took out a<br />
large container anyway and shared it right there<br />
in Andersen's parking lot.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-d3b62mmEcKY/ViWqujGboeI/AAAAAAAAXMo/ykjtT3GsySY/s1600/DSC02115.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-d3b62mmEcKY/ViWqujGboeI/AAAAAAAAXMo/ykjtT3GsySY/s400/DSC02115.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Split Pea Mania.</td></tr>
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We finished our pea (soup) and drove on—L.A. was our goal. As we approached that sprawling metropolis—it's 503 square miles (by comparison, New York City's five boroughs are spread over 305 square miles), we were forced to stop our forward progress. It was 7:30, we were tired, we so much wanted to be at our friends, Tamar and Jay's apartment. But we were up against one of the infamous L.A. freeway traffic jams! It took us an hour to go 15 miles. Sheesh!</div>
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Tamar and Jay are our bi-coastal friends with a house in Brooklyn and now a lovely apartment in the heart of Los Angeles, right near the famous Farmer's Market. That institution, by the way, has an interesting history. Housed in little white frame buildings that were built in the 1930's, the history of this land goes back to the 1880's when it was a large dairy farm. Forward to 1900 and oil was discovered which transformed the farms and cattle herds into an oil field with oil derricks littering the landscape. In the 1930's, the city had grown so large that oil wells were no longer be permitted within its bounds and the site went through its final transformation into the folksy, charming Farmers Market that makes it such a big attraction today. By the way this site may have been a Farmer's Market once upon a time but now is more a rambling food court: restaurants, food stands, touristy knick-knack shops and so on. It's also directly adjacent to a sprawling mall, the famous Grove which has the same upscale stores one sees in malls througout the country. Their home is centrally located in a walkable neighborhood which is not common in car-centric L.A. and museums and parks are nearby. So our friends, it seems, have made a good selection on where to live in this city and they're enjoying it! And so did we in the days that we spent with them.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8Qz_mnMtpgo/ViW1tV_pUZI/AAAAAAAAXNI/O_5SeQmoKgI/s1600/DSC02142.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8Qz_mnMtpgo/ViW1tV_pUZI/AAAAAAAAXNI/O_5SeQmoKgI/s400/DSC02142.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At Tamar and Jay's aspartment in Los Angeles.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5Bw1FF1Cd3Y/ViW16gYQAjI/AAAAAAAAXNU/kvfWY5-pcCo/s1600/DSC02153.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5Bw1FF1Cd3Y/ViW16gYQAjI/AAAAAAAAXNU/kvfWY5-pcCo/s640/DSC02153.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Biggie's right at home on Tamar and Jay's large patio. <br />
The Hollywood Hills are the backdrop to a view over their neighborhood.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9J5BO9XJRPQ/ViW4Md5Ye7I/AAAAAAAAXN4/goEAGNsdz-I/s1600/DSC02170.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9J5BO9XJRPQ/ViW4Md5Ye7I/AAAAAAAAXN4/goEAGNsdz-I/s400/DSC02170.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A lovely lunch on the patio under the sukkah. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ze8qzNjyBo8/ViW4MNjtG1I/AAAAAAAAXOE/W_Hmlvqfim4/s1600/DSC02222.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ze8qzNjyBo8/ViW4MNjtG1I/AAAAAAAAXOE/W_Hmlvqfim4/s400/DSC02222.jpg" width="322" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here's one reason our friends sought a home in L.A.<br />
Meet Yarden, their sweet granddaughter.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RWHWjgWb6ew/ViW4Nq6vVBI/AAAAAAAAXOQ/86vXYoPFsrc/s1600/DSC02248.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RWHWjgWb6ew/ViW4Nq6vVBI/AAAAAAAAXOQ/86vXYoPFsrc/s640/DSC02248.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Donkey ears x 4.</td></tr>
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<br />
Our days went fast in Los Angeles. We spent four days but filled it with visits with friends and family in addition to hanging out with Tamar and Jay. But the city is also home to our son Mike and his girlfriend Jamie. I also have a couple of cousins and a niece (through Stacey's family) and some dear old friends who we know for decades. We've been to L.A. many times so we didn't feel the need to see the sights. For us the "sights" were the friends and family who call the city their home.<br />
<br />
We arrived on Thursday night. On Friday, our friends had things to do and they were nice enough to leave us on our own so we went for a walk and that evening had dinner with them at home. The next day we met our niece Lizzy and her son, Cassius. Along for the day were Michael and Jamie. We all met <i>Barnsdall Art Park </i>in Hollywood which has a Frank Lloyd Wright home within its boundaries. Unfortunately, it was in the process of being restored so it was not open for admission. After the park, Mike guided us to a great Thai restaurant in Hollywood for a delicious lunch.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WxA-IDzrPWA/ViW8Ks4PTKI/AAAAAAAAXOc/86NNFzCjS4I/s1600/DSC02262.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WxA-IDzrPWA/ViW8Ks4PTKI/AAAAAAAAXOc/86NNFzCjS4I/s400/DSC02262.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our handsome great-newphew Cassius. Nine years old<br />
but quite grown up. Cash is Lizzy's son.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-u1aKFAloKs8/ViW8KsKT9ZI/AAAAAAAAXOY/eGFb1NVoGc4/s1600/DSC02271.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-u1aKFAloKs8/ViW8KsKT9ZI/AAAAAAAAXOY/eGFb1NVoGc4/s640/DSC02271.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stacey in Barnsdall Art Park in Los Angeles.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-p4OohZswBAk/ViW8K4RONnI/AAAAAAAAXOg/XTDL_r7vfUg/s1600/DSC02282.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-p4OohZswBAk/ViW8K4RONnI/AAAAAAAAXOg/XTDL_r7vfUg/s400/DSC02282.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cash and Stacey having a laugh.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-COG0OYsmIVE/ViW8Lo-3sGI/AAAAAAAAXOo/bYpsbiNC0sg/s1600/DSC02358.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-COG0OYsmIVE/ViW8Lo-3sGI/AAAAAAAAXOo/bYpsbiNC0sg/s400/DSC02358.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cassius and Lizzy. Happy together.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-R4FnKyoqxD4/ViW8MVKwGDI/AAAAAAAAXO0/vVP6hN9nTdw/s1600/DSC02366.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-R4FnKyoqxD4/ViW8MVKwGDI/AAAAAAAAXO0/vVP6hN9nTdw/s640/DSC02366.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Making funny faces.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9239lFOH76A/ViW8MdwOaEI/AAAAAAAAXO4/45YlrOyEE18/s1600/DSC02371.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9239lFOH76A/ViW8MdwOaEI/AAAAAAAAXO4/45YlrOyEE18/s400/DSC02371.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's love!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DSvBqYrISQc/ViW8NOEVe3I/AAAAAAAAXPE/zbYAETGgvdw/s1600/DSC02408.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DSvBqYrISQc/ViW8NOEVe3I/AAAAAAAAXPE/zbYAETGgvdw/s400/DSC02408.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At a great Thai restaurant in Hollywood. Yum!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--sgeBHMYZ5w/ViW8N_VkVtI/AAAAAAAAXPQ/0NDYvdtTjmk/s1600/DSC02434.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--sgeBHMYZ5w/ViW8N_VkVtI/AAAAAAAAXPQ/0NDYvdtTjmk/s400/DSC02434.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mother and son. Stacey and Mike.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KhoytD6URxw/ViW8NwwyL0I/AAAAAAAAXPU/IRCVdXqd0qs/s1600/DSC02441.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KhoytD6URxw/ViW8NwwyL0I/AAAAAAAAXPU/IRCVdXqd0qs/s400/DSC02441.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A handsome lad.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4wywFmdRA0g/ViW9m9wXvcI/AAAAAAAAXPs/3KArioXf3mY/s1600/DSC02396.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4wywFmdRA0g/ViW9m9wXvcI/AAAAAAAAXPs/3KArioXf3mY/s400/DSC02396.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jamie and Cassius—perusing the menu.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aJiIwi1J210/ViW8OR6ZrXI/AAAAAAAAXPY/rLM9w6iBDn4/s1600/DSC02483.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aJiIwi1J210/ViW8OR6ZrXI/AAAAAAAAXPY/rLM9w6iBDn4/s640/DSC02483.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stacey and Jay. Later that day and back at the apartment. </td></tr>
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There were lots more dinners with many other family and friends to spend time with. Mike took us to Japan Town and we had dinner with him and his girlfriend, Jamie. But Jamie's parents, Toby and George were there as well. We had met them once before on an earlier visit to the city and liked them very much. Our second time with them reinforced the feeling. The Japanese section is in downtown L.A. and is hopping at night—it might be one of the only places to get a good meal late at night. "Late" in this case means after nine o'clock. Los Angeles, like many other western cities, closes early.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RLmWMpSj9qc/VigzCInVyDI/AAAAAAAAXSw/Rbn6YI2VOpc/s1600/DSC02502.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RLmWMpSj9qc/VigzCInVyDI/AAAAAAAAXSw/Rbn6YI2VOpc/s400/DSC02502.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jamie, Toby and George - a nice family!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aE5KM9lpSiU/VigzCegJYnI/AAAAAAAAXSs/dLxGi-i9Zxc/s1600/DSC02508.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aE5KM9lpSiU/VigzCegJYnI/AAAAAAAAXSs/dLxGi-i9Zxc/s400/DSC02508.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">George Hall and our boychick, Mike at a cool and good<br />
sushi restaurant in L.A.'s Japan Town.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ezf33_D_gnk/VigzCUJ9JTI/AAAAAAAAXS0/9lcDvaAoIZw/s1600/DSC02515.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ezf33_D_gnk/VigzCUJ9JTI/AAAAAAAAXS0/9lcDvaAoIZw/s400/DSC02515.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Having a laugh.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tJb6xN9EHKA/VigzDvENgGI/AAAAAAAAXTA/YETYWcPeArE/s1600/DSC02528.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tJb6xN9EHKA/VigzDvENgGI/AAAAAAAAXTA/YETYWcPeArE/s400/DSC02528.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After dinner chat.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ScIqTtLOZng/VigzE1GO23I/AAAAAAAAXTQ/I2IqHXAp2ck/s1600/DSC02536.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ScIqTtLOZng/VigzE1GO23I/AAAAAAAAXTQ/I2IqHXAp2ck/s640/DSC02536.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The restaurant was on the 3rd floor of this modern mall with an open center to look down upon.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-To8DPWHsaCI/VigzEwoiu1I/AAAAAAAAXTM/uw9cJ9T6vyc/s1600/DSC02544.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-To8DPWHsaCI/VigzEwoiu1I/AAAAAAAAXTM/uw9cJ9T6vyc/s400/DSC02544.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The way out.</td></tr>
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<br />
The next day, Sunday, October 4th, we met my cousins Suzy and Muriel and Suzy's partner, Carol, at their house in Beverly Hills. We picked up a picnic lunch at a nearby deli and headed to Holmby Hill Park. Carol told me that they go there regularly—it's small but a beautiful gem of a neighborhood park. With their dogs and ours, we picnicked, strolled and enjoyed the day. Suzy and Muriel are the daughters of my father's first cousin, Max, who's deceased. I didn't know them as a child but discovered them in more recent years through Max's sister, Dottie, who I'm very close to. What a great discovery that was! We've met them each time we visit Mike in L.A. and have grown to love them, wishing I had known them forever. But it's never too late. Suzy and friends have come to New York and we've gotten together there as well. Like they say: Tengo famiglia! I have family! What's better than that?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jaBJWgot-h0/Vig1b5nOuyI/AAAAAAAAXTk/2yMyxif0LjI/s1600/DSC02578.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jaBJWgot-h0/Vig1b5nOuyI/AAAAAAAAXTk/2yMyxif0LjI/s400/DSC02578.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My sweet cousin Suzy (left) and her partner Carol. Two beautiful women!</td></tr>
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<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7YvkCHLLm84/Vig1b9E_4OI/AAAAAAAAXTo/IMsqKdp1_-4/s1600/DSC02594.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7YvkCHLLm84/Vig1b9E_4OI/AAAAAAAAXTo/IMsqKdp1_-4/s400/DSC02594.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Posing for my camera in front of the house:<br />
the women and the dogs. No Matt though.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-X3tEFWMtT3M/Vig1bm3WxvI/AAAAAAAAXTg/NULFenNWZ2M/s1600/DSC02597.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-X3tEFWMtT3M/Vig1bm3WxvI/AAAAAAAAXTg/NULFenNWZ2M/s640/DSC02597.jpg" width="522" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Carol, Muriel, Susan and Matthew ... and some dogs.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4XpUXQ6tEHA/Vig1dtlz0zI/AAAAAAAAXT4/1Sh5oN-_4lM/s1600/DSC02602.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4XpUXQ6tEHA/Vig1dtlz0zI/AAAAAAAAXT4/1Sh5oN-_4lM/s400/DSC02602.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Take out from this great deli and cheese shop, Wally's.<br />
We're having a picnic!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nVZqMG1dYZg/Vig1fDkL2JI/AAAAAAAAXUE/9bhslddW3zI/s1600/DSC02605.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nVZqMG1dYZg/Vig1fDkL2JI/AAAAAAAAXUE/9bhslddW3zI/s400/DSC02605.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sign on the wall.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EJ9y1ba_V7k/Vig1ec8XBqI/AAAAAAAAXUA/EEQ-gqRf5fc/s1600/DSC02621.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EJ9y1ba_V7k/Vig1ec8XBqI/AAAAAAAAXUA/EEQ-gqRf5fc/s640/DSC02621.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In Holmby Hills Park. A picnic.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UfNZ9l3h4jQ/Vig1fWsJz5I/AAAAAAAAXUM/6-HSyjH7M5Q/s1600/DSC02630.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UfNZ9l3h4jQ/Vig1fWsJz5I/AAAAAAAAXUM/6-HSyjH7M5Q/s400/DSC02630.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This, everyone, is Pandora. Suzy and Carol are her humans.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JvoHYLNotcY/Vig1fnFPRSI/AAAAAAAAXUQ/lsc4hP-surc/s1600/DSC02684.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JvoHYLNotcY/Vig1fnFPRSI/AAAAAAAAXUQ/lsc4hP-surc/s400/DSC02684.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My wonderful "new" cousin, Muriel.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fnEv3p5pJx4/Vig1gA24IfI/AAAAAAAAXUc/LKsfSQoZW4M/s1600/DSC02686.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fnEv3p5pJx4/Vig1gA24IfI/AAAAAAAAXUc/LKsfSQoZW4M/s400/DSC02686.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Carol took the dogs, two of whom belong to Susan and her. The third, Einstein, belongs<br />
to Muriel. We met her at the park.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
For our final night out on the town we headed east of the city to Hall, California. The name didn't register with me but, apparently, that small town of mostly Latino residents, is infamously and nationally known: the Mayor and associates are in jail for a massive corruption conviction, paying themselves millions while the town was destitute and ignored by its civic "leaders." Mike wanted to try a Mexican restaurant there called <i>La Casita Mexicana</i> (the little Mexican house). It was a good choice and the reason we wanted to be east of the city was that my friend, Matt Berkelhammer (who I know and love for decades) lives a bit further east in Whittier. So Hall was a good compromise for all of us, about equi-distant for us and for him. The food was excellent and quite exciting and authentic. And the place was painted in deep colors typical of Mexico and decorated with artifacts and artwork that gave it great ambience.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jM55v4RtPcw/Vig4jkLLsfI/AAAAAAAAXU0/81bCrKjW9X4/s1600/DSC02714.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jM55v4RtPcw/Vig4jkLLsfI/AAAAAAAAXU0/81bCrKjW9X4/s640/DSC02714.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crosses of all types on the wall at La Casita Mexicana.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3ixmmeS8AM/Vig4jd2pSNI/AAAAAAAAXUw/T0Cgo-UoJxE/s1600/DSC02717.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="454" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3ixmmeS8AM/Vig4jd2pSNI/AAAAAAAAXUw/T0Cgo-UoJxE/s640/DSC02717.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stacey and Mike greet our old (long-standing) friend, Matt Berkelhammer.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QX1wGAI2F-I/Vig4jBJ22vI/AAAAAAAAXUs/T69LW5Dux-0/s1600/DSC02729.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="286" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QX1wGAI2F-I/Vig4jBJ22vI/AAAAAAAAXUs/T69LW5Dux-0/s400/DSC02729.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Matt's girlfriend, Connie.<br />
What's up with these expressions?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jgIBdbYn6g4/Vig4lVhfatI/AAAAAAAAXVE/2r4uoW4rmoY/s1600/DSC02735-Edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jgIBdbYn6g4/Vig4lVhfatI/AAAAAAAAXVE/2r4uoW4rmoY/s400/DSC02735-Edit.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ah...chips!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5IUOgbMI-w8/Vig4lz36BlI/AAAAAAAAXVI/1vFMjct126o/s1600/DSC02740-Edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="347" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5IUOgbMI-w8/Vig4lz36BlI/AAAAAAAAXVI/1vFMjct126o/s400/DSC02740-Edit.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Two love boids.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-03gaVMNBrM8/Vig4mN8QVUI/AAAAAAAAXVM/1x2WdqQEdWk/s1600/DSC02745.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-03gaVMNBrM8/Vig4mN8QVUI/AAAAAAAAXVM/1x2WdqQEdWk/s400/DSC02745.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Connie and Matt at La Casita Mexicana.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5OiC89AV0aI/Vig4nGz9yhI/AAAAAAAAXVY/qLrwl2gBcVk/s1600/DSC02747.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="478" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5OiC89AV0aI/Vig4nGz9yhI/AAAAAAAAXVY/qLrwl2gBcVk/s640/DSC02747.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our son Michael. Contemplative mood. We LOVED seeing him and spending time with him.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ar1ab2tuSy0/Vig4oVnX61I/AAAAAAAAXVo/aOTe7gUdtRI/s1600/DSC02752.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ar1ab2tuSy0/Vig4oVnX61I/AAAAAAAAXVo/aOTe7gUdtRI/s400/DSC02752.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Good food. Lovely surroundings. We'd go back for sure!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iFI6XJkFnh0/Vig4oDO8mvI/AAAAAAAAXVk/e6VMkhOmhCY/s1600/DSC02758.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iFI6XJkFnh0/Vig4oDO8mvI/AAAAAAAAXVk/e6VMkhOmhCY/s640/DSC02758.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hand measuring contest. Matt's the judge.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vQs1NBuEUlo/Vig8kIWfMKI/AAAAAAAAXV8/S3fTNLllqaE/s1600/DSC02768.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vQs1NBuEUlo/Vig8kIWfMKI/AAAAAAAAXV8/S3fTNLllqaE/s400/DSC02768.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Big Matt and Little Matt (you guess who is who).<br />
We go way back together. One of my favorite people!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ut1uprvel5U/Vig8kEHIueI/AAAAAAAAXWA/qpPPEHa2eUc/s1600/DSC02783.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ut1uprvel5U/Vig8kEHIueI/AAAAAAAAXWA/qpPPEHa2eUc/s640/DSC02783.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All of us at the end of a lovely dinner in Hall, California at La Casita Mexicana.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
We left L.A. on Tuesday, October 6th and began our long trek home. Riding northeast out of Los Angeles we passed through a vast expanse of of uplands and desert: The Mojave! The one impression we came home with is the vastness and emptiness of large parts of the West. Prairies, plateaus, large expanse of inhabitable desert - all of this fills parts of many western states. We stopped at a roadside rest area where signs defined the topography. From north to south and descending in altitude, there's the Great Basin, covering a narrow strip of Northern and Central California lying east of the Sierra Nevada mountains. Most of it lies above 4,000 feet and is very cold in winter. It's often referred to as the High Desert or the Cold Desert and from California it stretches east across Nevada and parts of Utah, Idaho and Oregon. Because of the cold temperatures and a short growing season, plant growth is limited.<br />
<br />
Below the Great Basin is the Mojave Desert, which we drove through on our way to Arizona and New Mexico. It's a bit warmer and not as extreme as the Great Basin, lying at around 2,000 feet elevation. It gets a bit more rainfall than the Colorado Desert which lies to its south and extends into Mexico. But it does have cooler winters than the Colorado so most geologists consider it a <i>transitional desert</i> compared to its southern neighbor, much of which is below sea level (think of Death Valley) and is called the Low Desert. There you have it: a concise description of western deserts. I found it fascinating and didn't know any of this - another bonus of this road trip. Another interesting fact: just 20,000 years ago—at the end of the last Ice Age, most of the Mojave was covered by the waters of Lake Manix, which had a depth of 380 feet and covered an area of over 150 square miles! It was both wetter and cooler than today and that supported great numbers of large animals who fed on the expanse of trees, shrubs and grasslands that spread down from the mountains to the shores of the lake. The large mammals of that day (just a tick in time ago) included giant mammoths, camels, bison, horses and dwarf antelopes. The Shasta ground sloth, an eight-foot long mammal, lived in caves in upland areas. Imagine! Camels and mammoths roamed the area just a mere 20,000 years ago.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-InE3YkngLIs/VigsKfgSbdI/AAAAAAAAXRU/OltTIlH2tsM/s1600/temp.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="195" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-InE3YkngLIs/VigsKfgSbdI/AAAAAAAAXRU/OltTIlH2tsM/s400/temp.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">CLICK TO SEE LARGE<br />
Leaving L.A.and heading east with a first night stop<br />
in Flagstaff, AZ. We'd stay two nights so we could<br />
tour the Grand Canyon.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Zmk5aahmeXA/VigqksNzwOI/AAAAAAAAXRA/OtGveIkuKv8/s1600/DSC02866.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Zmk5aahmeXA/VigqksNzwOI/AAAAAAAAXRA/OtGveIkuKv8/s640/DSC02866.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Mojave. A quite incredible view from Interstate 40, <br />
looking east from a reststop in California.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-p5urDliA7RY/VigqklljgAI/AAAAAAAAXQ4/X77Kq6v5TTQ/s1600/DSC02902.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-p5urDliA7RY/VigqklljgAI/AAAAAAAAXQ4/X77Kq6v5TTQ/s640/DSC02902.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Big Empty. View from the driver's seat. Interstate 40 - The Mojave Desert, California.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xU2TSxsu6VE/VigqkgWskEI/AAAAAAAAXQ8/wXrNQVbByhk/s1600/DSC02935.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xU2TSxsu6VE/VigqkgWskEI/AAAAAAAAXQ8/wXrNQVbByhk/s400/DSC02935.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trucks move through The Mojave on Interstate 40 <br />
but there are no other signs of human habitation for as far as the eye can see.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-G3xUrG85yfs/VigtEGvv9sI/AAAAAAAAXSc/894inGQ7q1I/s1600/DSC02959%2B-%2BCopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-G3xUrG85yfs/VigtEGvv9sI/AAAAAAAAXSc/894inGQ7q1I/s640/DSC02959%2B-%2BCopy.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Needles, Califonria, I think named for the needle-like mountains that surround it. <br />
It's on part of the old and historic Route 66. This is the attraction of last resort for many of these <br />
towns that are so desolate, having been isolated by interstate highways <br />
and left to crumble back i to the surrounding desert.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XcG3SpLmb3I/VigsyYnUptI/AAAAAAAAXRk/5uIPCVpfhb8/s1600/DSC02963.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XcG3SpLmb3I/VigsyYnUptI/AAAAAAAAXRk/5uIPCVpfhb8/s640/DSC02963.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">YOU CAN CLICK ANY PICTURE TO SEE IT NICE AND LARGE!<br />
Lots and lots of murals, and some really nice ones, in many of these towns that were touched by Route 66.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9FYm0MrN8X8/VigsyDc7y_I/AAAAAAAAXRc/yyVp1s3PrAA/s1600/DSC02965.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9FYm0MrN8X8/VigsyDc7y_I/AAAAAAAAXRc/yyVp1s3PrAA/s640/DSC02965.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another Route 66 mural. Some advertise local businesses. <br />
Some promote the town through which that road passed.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jw3J3iVGP4c/VigsyHb13qI/AAAAAAAAXRg/UOe-_NMXHdQ/s1600/DSC02971.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jw3J3iVGP4c/VigsyHb13qI/AAAAAAAAXRg/UOe-_NMXHdQ/s640/DSC02971.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Betty -- I hardly knew ya.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ogw0QLZWEpE/Vigs0JjiK-I/AAAAAAAAXR0/ni7-0MxxO5I/s1600/DSC02977.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ogw0QLZWEpE/Vigs0JjiK-I/AAAAAAAAXR0/ni7-0MxxO5I/s400/DSC02977.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wall mural in Needles, California.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gKy2PS1Yl1s/Vigs0uz68OI/AAAAAAAAXR8/WJ67vI0dhcE/s1600/DSC02983.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gKy2PS1Yl1s/Vigs0uz68OI/AAAAAAAAXR8/WJ67vI0dhcE/s640/DSC02983.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Liquor. The Bible. There's hope .... I guess.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7kb7zByumjo/Vigs0sjqLhI/AAAAAAAAXR4/4od_Q8ixDF8/s1600/DSC02990.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7kb7zByumjo/Vigs0sjqLhI/AAAAAAAAXR4/4od_Q8ixDF8/s400/DSC02990.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leaving California. Raising Arizona!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-47sypX6pWcw/Vigs1S-MDyI/AAAAAAAAXSM/MCiMRLCFb4Q/s1600/DSC03010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-47sypX6pWcw/Vigs1S-MDyI/AAAAAAAAXSM/MCiMRLCFb4Q/s400/DSC03010.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stacey looks out on more desert ... Arizona.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XaW8duc-kyU/Vigs1uT8O0I/AAAAAAAAXSQ/rtOdCuEwtBo/s1600/DSC03034.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="352" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XaW8duc-kyU/Vigs1uT8O0I/AAAAAAAAXSQ/rtOdCuEwtBo/s640/DSC03034.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The big skies of our western states give rise to many rainbows.<br />
This one is a double - look for the faint second rainbow to the left of the strong one.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
We ended our day's drive in Flagstaff, Arizona. We'd use that as a base for a tour of the Grand Canyon. And that, my dear readers, will have to wait for the next post (from Brooklyn)...but you won't want to miss that, now will you?</div>
Matthew Weinsteinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14951469890072862130noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5629966253623058254.post-56800780301964997152015-10-12T19:43:00.000-07:002015-10-14T21:36:47.549-07:00On The Way To L.A. - Hearst's San Simeon Castle...Like WOW!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Wednesday, September 30, 2015</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
We left our friends in Glen Ellen and continued our trek down the Pacific coast.which would end in Los Angeles. There's endless beauty to be enjoyed. Would that we had more time to linger, my constant complaint. But road trips today can be very expensive: hotels, gasoline, dining. I wished over and over again that we could have been camping - stop where you want, pay very little and be much closer to nature. Very popular, in the northwest especially, are something called <i>teardrop campers. </i>These are very small, light -weight trailers that can be towed by even small cars. A queen-sized bed just about fills the interior. A "kitchen" is outside when part of the teardrop roof opens to expose shelves, drawers, a sink and a stove. There's nothing to set up (think tents) and you're well protected from the elements and off the ground on a comfortable bed. So cool!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-79AAe4yPf7c/Vhxs5AnSmKI/AAAAAAAAXDU/4b8m68BXtW8/s1600/temp.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="271" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-79AAe4yPf7c/Vhxs5AnSmKI/AAAAAAAAXDU/4b8m68BXtW8/s400/temp.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A teardrop trailer like this would have been ideal for a 5-week road trip.<br />
See more here: <a href="http://bit.ly/1R84mxB">http://bit.ly/1R84mxB</a></td></tr>
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<br />
From Glen Ellen, above San Francisco to Los Angeles and using the Pacific Coast Highway instead of the interstate, is a two-day trip. The middle point is somewhere around San Simeon which is where the famous estate of the newspaper mogul William Randolph Hearst lies. And just above San Simeon the fabulous coast line known as Big Sur.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ShdhhRk-zns/Vhxysnb0p8I/AAAAAAAAXDk/lGcqHcJ2diM/s1600/temp.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ShdhhRk-zns/Vhxysnb0p8I/AAAAAAAAXDk/lGcqHcJ2diM/s400/temp.JPG" width="293" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">CLICK TO SEE LARGE<br />
We spent two days driving on the PCH from Glen Ellen,<br />
north of San Francisco<span style="font-size: 12.8px;">to Los Angeles. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12.8px;">W</span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">e stopped for the night in the town of San Simeon. The</span><br />
next morning we took a tour of the Hearst Castle.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GBB0YDR_hLU/Vhx74BbDg1I/AAAAAAAAXD0/e0DbuVEIPOw/s1600/DSC01658.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GBB0YDR_hLU/Vhx74BbDg1I/AAAAAAAAXD0/e0DbuVEIPOw/s400/DSC01658.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Get the picture? Don't get too close to the edge.<br />
'nuff said, right? Wrong.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2z3i9N3O77w/Vhx760rBpwI/AAAAAAAAXEA/BDo2IzaGElM/s1600/DSC01639.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="425" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2z3i9N3O77w/Vhx760rBpwI/AAAAAAAAXEA/BDo2IzaGElM/s640/DSC01639.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Um, please don't try this at home. Posing at the edge. Big Sur, California coast.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CxEYhDO9rtM/Vhx99kS0QfI/AAAAAAAAXEQ/qTrIHgmq1_g/s1600/DSC01666.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CxEYhDO9rtM/Vhx99kS0QfI/AAAAAAAAXEQ/qTrIHgmq1_g/s400/DSC01666.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pretty fabulous engineering. <br />
This is the Bixby Bridge built in 1932 as part of the <br />
Pacific Coast Highway at Big Sur, California.</td></tr>
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<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Jjwb0Wa-FNQ/Vhx97XTU0xI/AAAAAAAAXEI/5GLGEcqEnY0/s1600/DSC01675.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="438" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Jjwb0Wa-FNQ/Vhx97XTU0xI/AAAAAAAAXEI/5GLGEcqEnY0/s640/DSC01675.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">CLICK TO SEE LARGER.<br />
Windswept shrubs and fog blows in from the Pacific.. <br />
Can you see the Point Sur lighthouse on the top of the giant rock outcrop?</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-asdZxm8kVRQ/Vhx_A7tzJiI/AAAAAAAAXEY/lywrvvTJtZg/s1600/DSC01743.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-asdZxm8kVRQ/Vhx_A7tzJiI/AAAAAAAAXEY/lywrvvTJtZg/s640/DSC01743.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fog softens the textures of Big Sur's rugged coast.</td></tr>
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<br />
About an hour or so later we reached our stopping point for the night, the little coast hamlet of San Simeon. Just north of town at the inlet of <i>Piedras Blancas</i> (White Rocks), we stopped to take in a wonderful spectacle. At this spot, elephant seals come ashore and gather to snuggle, molt, give birth and rest. You can read more about elephant seals which are remarkable creatures. Go <b><a href="http://www.elephantseal.org/" target="_blank">here</a></b>. In the winter, thousands will crowd this beach. In October, there were a few dozen, still amazing to watch.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_N_TRwB8Uws/VhyD4wSKyTI/AAAAAAAAXEo/jzEnbO3AKCw/s1600/DSC01762.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="271" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_N_TRwB8Uws/VhyD4wSKyTI/AAAAAAAAXEo/jzEnbO3AKCw/s400/DSC01762.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What are they gawking at?</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Utxko_urIZM/VhyEDjyBaKI/AAAAAAAAXE8/K8FyAgu0FgQ/s1600/DSC01791.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Utxko_urIZM/VhyEDjyBaKI/AAAAAAAAXE8/K8FyAgu0FgQ/s400/DSC01791.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Elephant seals which spend eight to ten months in the open ocean<br />
come to rookeries twice a year like this one at Piedras Blancas near San Simeon<br />
to birth, breed, molt and rest. In the winter there will be thousands on this beach.<br />
Quite a sight! Not to mention the awful smell.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eE4HX4uJbmA/VhyD9rdDZ4I/AAAAAAAAXE0/GUFbjpQUQ9w/s1600/DSC01823.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="394" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eE4HX4uJbmA/VhyD9rdDZ4I/AAAAAAAAXE0/GUFbjpQUQ9w/s640/DSC01823.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 12.8px;">The Three Tenors.</span></div>
</td></tr>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzekedaax90rJ1uGEc43SFvMvFDrQyoj2AT9WVDB9YLs_6YZ3a7Iqv0hE9St-5Hordhvxcr6d8TEOgM4d05dw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br />
PRESS PLAY ABOVE FOR A CUTE VIDEO<br />
<br />
We checked into our motel and went out to eat in nearby San Simeon, a tiny Pacific coast town. It was eight-thirty and one of the restaurants in town stated online that it was open till nine. Did I mention that restaurants close at nine or earlier on the west coast? That includes large cities like Los Angeles (with a few exceptions). In smaller town it's almost a law. Driving all day and getting to one's destination late spells doom if you want a nice dinner at a local restaurant. Well, it turns out, the nine o'clock restaurant was already closed at eight-thirty. "We closed early" one of the workers said when I asked if they were still serving. "Nobody was coming in." (In truth, it <i>was</i> after season...but still!) We drove back to the hotel and there was a restaurant attached to another motel next door. that was still open. Not great but more than good enough for two weary but hungry travelers.<br />
<br />
The next morning we awoke. ready to drive on. But Stacey suggested (strongly) that we see the Hearst Castle. Matt didn't want to spend the fifty bucks but finally agreed. Stacey was right (as she often is). What an amazing place is this estate: a testament to the enormous wealth amassed by William Randolph Hearst, who at the time, was said to be the richest man in America. His father, George Hearst, was no pauper either.<br />
<br />
Papa Hearst was a miner, a forty-niner who struck it rich big time. He found gold and silver. Not educated, but a shrewd businessman, he realized that mines eventually run out. So he invested and he bought real estate and other mines and soon became one of the wealthiest men in the country. In the area surrounding San Simeon, where later his son would build this castle, George purchased land in 1865 and later expanded it to 250,000 acres!<br />
<br />
The father would take young William on strenuous camping trips, treking up the mountain on horseback to the family camp site. The young boy grew to love the place. Later, as a grown man, he asked his father if he could build a home there. No, said his father, "this is our family campground and it should remain that way." His father passed away and William now asked his mother for permission to build. Once again, she turned down his request: "This is our family camp ground and it must remain that way, unspoiled." When his mother died, Hearst hired a woman architect, Julia Morgan (an unheard of thing to do in 1919) and began to build his <i>Casa Grande. </i>He to build it till 1947. It is now part of the California state park system. It's an incredible sight to behold. Hearst, it is said, needed a place to display his enormous collection of art and antiques and the castle is resplendent with those artifacts, inside and out. Indeed, many of the ceilings in the grand rooms are taken from European churches and monasteries, disassembled and reassembled at San Simeon. Likewise for grand doorways, fireplaces, etc. Tapestries by Reubens are hung in the Assembly Room. Medevil church pews line the walls there as well.<br />
<br />
Hearst entertained the very wealthiest and most powerful elite at his castle as well as the famous stars of stage and screen. When he invited you, his assistant would call and if you accepted, all travel arrangements and costs would be taken care of, no matter where you were coming from. Such was the enormous wealth of this man, the inventor of sensational (and reactionary) Yellow Journalism. I won't go into that here. Suffice it to say that Hearst was one of the most powerful men of his time and with his newspapers spewing distortion, half-truths and outright lies, was able to push the country into the Spanish-American war and the U.S. acquisition of Cuba in 1898. A hundred years later the same duplicity led us to war and occupation in Iraq. Bush and Cheney's fabrications about <i>weapons of mass destruction </i>pushed us into war and Judith Miller and the New York Times put the stamp of validity on those lies. You can read more about Hearst's journalism <b><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Propaganda_of_the_Spanish%E2%80%93American_War" target="_blank">here</a></b>.<br />
<br />
Putting Hearst's reactionary politics aside (difficult for me to do), his creation at San Simeon is a wonder to behold. With its spectacular architecture and massive collection of art and antiques it is a unique piece of history, a wonderful museum and an unforgettable place you should put on your list of "must" places to visit.<br />
<br />
Here are some statistics:<br />
<ul>
<li>56 bedrooms.</li>
<li>61 bathrooms.</li>
<li>19 sitting rooms.</li>
<li>127 acres of gardens.</li>
<li>three guest "cottages" (actually mansions in their own right).</li>
<li>indoor and outdoor swimming pools.</li>
<li>tennis courts.</li>
<li>movie theater.</li>
<li>private airport.</li>
<li>the world's largest private zoo (no longer in existence but we did see zebras roaming the fields, a leftover from the many different exotic animals that once inhabited the estate).</li>
</ul>
<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wHgykR1-SB0/VhySCnM7PqI/AAAAAAAAXFU/JAp_MWjF4WQ/s1600/DSC01830.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wHgykR1-SB0/VhySCnM7PqI/AAAAAAAAXFU/JAp_MWjF4WQ/s400/DSC01830.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The entrance off the PCH to the Hearst estate.<br />
The castle is five miles from this entrance, up a windy, mountain<br />
road that you ascend via a vistor's bus</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GhlBmAFRBYQ/VhyR_IyjGZI/AAAAAAAAXFQ/lWehADlyFRQ/s1600/DSC01841.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GhlBmAFRBYQ/VhyR_IyjGZI/AAAAAAAAXFQ/lWehADlyFRQ/s400/DSC01841.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In the bus, ascending to the castle, the Pacific is far below.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AM3AJQqsqc8/VhySHig11pI/AAAAAAAAXFg/tsIAZ3YWyLs/s1600/DSC01845.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AM3AJQqsqc8/VhySHig11pI/AAAAAAAAXFg/tsIAZ3YWyLs/s640/DSC01845.jpg" width="442" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We've arrived. This is the main entrance to the castle. The door and<br />
surrounds are artifacts from European churches.</td></tr>
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<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hMBWqDYVOF8/VhyUDBHrQtI/AAAAAAAAXF4/7ayJ2309554/s1600/DSC01865.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hMBWqDYVOF8/VhyUDBHrQtI/AAAAAAAAXF4/7ayJ2309554/s400/DSC01865.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is the Assembly Rom of the <i>Casa Grande</i> <br />
as Hearst referred to his castle. If you were invited to one <br />
of his soirees, this is the first room you would see and <br />
where you would assemble with other guests.<br />
The room is filled with magnificent Flemish tapestries, <br />
one of which was designed by Peter Paul Reubens<br />
and one by Guilio Romano. Because of their size <br />
Hearst had his architect, Julia Moran, increase the <br />
size of the room in order to accommodate the tapestries.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-h6rAia4d4mA/VhyUCLq6VII/AAAAAAAAXFs/or1PkJoC3PM/s1600/DSC01874.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-h6rAia4d4mA/VhyUCLq6VII/AAAAAAAAXFs/or1PkJoC3PM/s400/DSC01874.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pew seats from Italian and Spanish churches, line the Assembly Room.</td></tr>
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<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WS1rSiG2ceY/VhyUCnHugiI/AAAAAAAAXFw/aqLlz64I1jk/s1600/DSC01877.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WS1rSiG2ceY/VhyUCnHugiI/AAAAAAAAXFw/aqLlz64I1jk/s400/DSC01877.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hearst's immense art collection fills the rooms. <br />
Indeed, the ceilings of the rooms are part of his collection, <br />
taken from European churches and re-installed <br />
in his Casa Grande.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3SqoFjCFYw4/VhyV9uOgtgI/AAAAAAAAXGI/0bNKqo_q3KY/s1600/DSC01883.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3SqoFjCFYw4/VhyV9uOgtgI/AAAAAAAAXGI/0bNKqo_q3KY/s640/DSC01883.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Refectory where guests dined. Getting a seat next to the host was considered a social coup. Hearst had his architect install gleaming silver candlesticks, high windows and magnificent tapestries from his art collection to recall a dining hall from medieval monasteries. Heinz ketchup and mustard, at the mogul's insistence, were also on the table along with<br />
the elaborate silver settings.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7wsrxqFdKm4/VhyV-OJx93I/AAAAAAAAXGQ/_2_sNOwKUu8/s1600/DSC01886.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7wsrxqFdKm4/VhyV-OJx93I/AAAAAAAAXGQ/_2_sNOwKUu8/s640/DSC01886.jpg" width="425" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Refectory and its awesome ceiling,<br />
unassembled at a Spanish monastery and then<br />
reinstalled at San Simeon.<br />
What money can buy!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kONtSMNLpF0/VhyV9j4XHPI/AAAAAAAAXGM/8gNB03P4QcQ/s1600/DSC01916.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kONtSMNLpF0/VhyV9j4XHPI/AAAAAAAAXGM/8gNB03P4QcQ/s400/DSC01916.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hearst's man cave - the Billiards Room.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KGaNN22rJ20/VhyV-sKnB6I/AAAAAAAAXGU/gLf-EQwNURg/s1600/DSC01925.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="242" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KGaNN22rJ20/VhyV-sKnB6I/AAAAAAAAXGU/gLf-EQwNURg/s400/DSC01925.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another grand ceiling, this one in the Billiards Room.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--mgPIFMgsTI/VhyV-ydy2vI/AAAAAAAAXGk/xmDkz2jpXSM/s1600/DSC01934.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--mgPIFMgsTI/VhyV-ydy2vI/AAAAAAAAXGk/xmDkz2jpXSM/s400/DSC01934.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A sconce in the movie theater.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-j_qUvALLi8U/VhyV_QgsiHI/AAAAAAAAXGg/rDSGm8DhMeI/s1600/DSC01938.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-j_qUvALLi8U/VhyV_QgsiHI/AAAAAAAAXGg/rDSGm8DhMeI/s640/DSC01938.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We saw a clip of Hearst entertaining at his Casa Grande. Here he is with his mistress and lover, Marion Davies.<br />
Charlie Chaplin, Cary Grant and other Hollywood stars were regulars at the castle.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-N5Pnipx_fcE/VhyV_0f8t3I/AAAAAAAAXGw/RwQxX5qg-h4/s1600/DSC01953.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-N5Pnipx_fcE/VhyV_0f8t3I/AAAAAAAAXGw/RwQxX5qg-h4/s400/DSC01953.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Side view of the mansion.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vMi68txah8E/VhyWAVIGNgI/AAAAAAAAXG4/QU271hnJzZA/s1600/DSC01959.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vMi68txah8E/VhyWAVIGNgI/AAAAAAAAXG4/QU271hnJzZA/s400/DSC01959.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The castle has 56 bedrooms, 61 bathrooms, and 19 sitting rooms and 127 acres<br />
of gardens. There are also three other smaller "cottages" for guests, spectacular<br />
mansions in their own rights.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hUR3xDxIZoY/VhyWBNauOKI/AAAAAAAAXHE/pdq0Sn2OM20/s1600/DSC01962.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hUR3xDxIZoY/VhyWBNauOKI/AAAAAAAAXHE/pdq0Sn2OM20/s400/DSC01962.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beautiful patios abound, each with spectacular<br />
views to the ocean far below.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fEXK1upcXKk/VhyWCC3-TBI/AAAAAAAAXHM/ZuLKMHMydwo/s1600/DSC01983.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fEXK1upcXKk/VhyWCC3-TBI/AAAAAAAAXHM/ZuLKMHMydwo/s640/DSC01983.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Magnificent views up the Pacific coast.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6leVXAmWUZY/VhyWC-Smn_I/AAAAAAAAXHc/-N4459RnoZw/s1600/DSC01987.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6leVXAmWUZY/VhyWC-Smn_I/AAAAAAAAXHc/-N4459RnoZw/s400/DSC01987.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The grand entrance and patio and fountains in front.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qAcfqYdVuJQ/VhyWDfe6rrI/AAAAAAAAXHk/MRbPN82WT38/s1600/DSC02005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qAcfqYdVuJQ/VhyWDfe6rrI/AAAAAAAAXHk/MRbPN82WT38/s640/DSC02005.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of three magnificent guest cottages.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yW-1VAC0Ozk/VhyWDo9ZX7I/AAAAAAAAXHo/eTjYRBeM8U0/s1600/DSC02007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="278" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yW-1VAC0Ozk/VhyWDo9ZX7I/AAAAAAAAXHo/eTjYRBeM8U0/s400/DSC02007.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hearst's art collection is everywhere - inside and out.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jJavZSiPg5U/VhyWEBv27gI/AAAAAAAAXHw/jtfPw20OO8w/s1600/DSC02013.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jJavZSiPg5U/VhyWEBv27gI/AAAAAAAAXHw/jtfPw20OO8w/s640/DSC02013.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What a view. Of the Pacific, that is. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-k9sRsemRcIk/VhyWEUrtxEI/AAAAAAAAXH4/GEytnmw8YPU/s1600/DSC02019.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-k9sRsemRcIk/VhyWEUrtxEI/AAAAAAAAXH4/GEytnmw8YPU/s400/DSC02019.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You can see forever from the Hearst Castle.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LUAfAuLjh5I/VhyWFsr3YyI/AAAAAAAAXII/_5ourqgbQUI/s1600/DSC02034.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LUAfAuLjh5I/VhyWFsr3YyI/AAAAAAAAXII/_5ourqgbQUI/s400/DSC02034.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Guest cottage. Wouldn't you like an invitation?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-roCvmJ_nAqw/VhyWF9z1cjI/AAAAAAAAXIM/Y8j0A-kukaQ/s1600/DSC02040.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-roCvmJ_nAqw/VhyWF9z1cjI/AAAAAAAAXIM/Y8j0A-kukaQ/s400/DSC02040.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The patio below one of the guest cottages.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TNysKdnYkoE/VhyWG8YAgmI/AAAAAAAAXIg/ZLcelFrDr5s/s1600/DSC02050.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TNysKdnYkoE/VhyWG8YAgmI/AAAAAAAAXIg/ZLcelFrDr5s/s640/DSC02050.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hello there. A statue with lamp.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-R7lHRL-uGhc/VhyWHzQzDJI/AAAAAAAAXIo/GGtWkjrA2GI/s1600/DSC02052.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-R7lHRL-uGhc/VhyWHzQzDJI/AAAAAAAAXIo/GGtWkjrA2GI/s400/DSC02052.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beautiful and unforgettable. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PsvSaeA4Pxg/VhyWIkTQ8dI/AAAAAAAAXIw/fxSqu_rlQ3Q/s1600/DSC02058.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PsvSaeA4Pxg/VhyWIkTQ8dI/AAAAAAAAXIw/fxSqu_rlQ3Q/s640/DSC02058.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A view from the back of the castle.<br />
The warm California air wafts over the flowers and surrounds you.<br />
Euphoric!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6o2NZus9KE8/VhyWJS4HoQI/AAAAAAAAXI8/AapZFot9AHk/s1600/DSC02061.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6o2NZus9KE8/VhyWJS4HoQI/AAAAAAAAXI8/AapZFot9AHk/s640/DSC02061.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grand views and art.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ImeNU8LqK9s/VhyWJgx3WQI/AAAAAAAAXJA/MxctwuZ7xX0/s1600/DSC02072.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ImeNU8LqK9s/VhyWJgx3WQI/AAAAAAAAXJA/MxctwuZ7xX0/s640/DSC02072.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The indoor pool. Hearst called it the Roman Baths, after which it is modeled.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-U7RVe5SCijs/VhyWKY6LkhI/AAAAAAAAXJM/WqmnwyezU04/s1600/DSC02078.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-U7RVe5SCijs/VhyWKY6LkhI/AAAAAAAAXJM/WqmnwyezU04/s400/DSC02078.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inlaid gold leaf mosaic tiles, crafted in Murano, Italy.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ePgIC2NeFWE/VhyWLFIE9aI/AAAAAAAAXJY/g_-2EYxOZ14/s1600/DSC02080.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ePgIC2NeFWE/VhyWLFIE9aI/AAAAAAAAXJY/g_-2EYxOZ14/s640/DSC02080.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Roman Baths.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FOdBdvSn8Z0/VhyWMYM1_4I/AAAAAAAAXJs/k1rWrE5eknM/s1600/DSC02087.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FOdBdvSn8Z0/VhyWMYM1_4I/AAAAAAAAXJs/k1rWrE5eknM/s640/DSC02087.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The indoor pool has little romantic nooks that one could swim into.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div>
After finishing our tour of <i>La Casa Grande</i> we continued our drive south to Los Angeles. We arrived, after surviving a colossal traffic jam on the Hollywood Freeway, at about 8:00, weary but happy to be at our friends' lovely apartment. Tamar and Jay are bi-coastal with a house in Brooklyn and now, after retirement, an apartment in L.A. But more on them and sons and cousins and friends who we would be hanging with over the next few days....in my next post. - Matt</div>
Matthew Weinsteinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14951469890072862130noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5629966253623058254.post-21387673806770752722015-10-08T21:51:00.003-07:002015-10-10T21:04:28.848-07:00In California Wine CountryAnd A Chance To Rest And Relax!Tuesday, September 29, 2015<br />
<br />
We arrived at Ann and Alex's house in Glen Ellen on Saturday night after four days of driving down the Oregon and California coast. We spent the next few days hanging out with our friends, exploring the surrounding Sonoma wine country, enjoying a nice hike and just recharging ourselves with rest and relaxation after all that driving.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lHhYFkfe9No/VhdHPgHhzgI/AAAAAAAAW-4/ZXKoYx1QSUo/s1600/map%2Bpch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lHhYFkfe9No/VhdHPgHhzgI/AAAAAAAAW-4/ZXKoYx1QSUo/s400/map%2Bpch.jpg" width="205" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">CLICK TO SEE LARGER.<br />
Map of our Pacific coast travel<br />
thus far: Poulsbo, Washington to<br />
Glen Ellen, California.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Ann and Alex have a beautiful house - we were there last March and now we had returned to see them once again and enjoy their friendly hospitality. When we arrived, late Saturday, we unpacked and headed out for dinner at a sweet restaurant just a mile or so away in the town of Glen Ellen. The area they live in is quite lovely, surrounded by the Sonoma hills. Those soft, rolling slopes are home to many of the area's vineyards with elegant mansions that serve as tasting rooms for the wine they produce.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CaTHkyNhUf8/VhdLDU9vpJI/AAAAAAAAW_U/E7hoIOheuCY/s1600/DSC01317.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CaTHkyNhUf8/VhdLDU9vpJI/AAAAAAAAW_U/E7hoIOheuCY/s400/DSC01317.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">High above the house, Stacey and Ann make their back down.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tr93ewc2jrI/VhdLBDP6NOI/AAAAAAAAW_M/pmpB5Iuz45U/s1600/DSC01320.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tr93ewc2jrI/VhdLBDP6NOI/AAAAAAAAW_M/pmpB5Iuz45U/s640/DSC01320.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ann and Alex's beautiful house and pool with hot tub. Oh so nice!</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Yhl75mMWX1A/VhdK4kkm-7I/AAAAAAAAW_E/3ATff8nPfzo/s1600/DSC01325.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="308" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Yhl75mMWX1A/VhdK4kkm-7I/AAAAAAAAW_E/3ATff8nPfzo/s400/DSC01325.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Now that's Smart! A plug-in (no gas at all) Smart Car for running<br />
errands and short trips.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Sunday was the day of the lunar eclipse. It would be a blood red super moon. Excitedly, we scouted a location during the day that would give us a clear view that night and found one nearby, high on a hill next to a reservoir.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-E5Fjkeevv2I/VhdN8N6-rPI/AAAAAAAAW_4/lxaa3DgPFD0/s1600/DSC01341.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-E5Fjkeevv2I/VhdN8N6-rPI/AAAAAAAAW_4/lxaa3DgPFD0/s400/DSC01341.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">While we were out scouting a location to view the eclipse, we<br />
stopped for coffee and a chat at a local cafe.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1kWUu1ATZaU/VhdNn4WBtaI/AAAAAAAAW_w/0b6JbEb-_xc/s1600/DSC01351.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1kWUu1ATZaU/VhdNn4WBtaI/AAAAAAAAW_w/0b6JbEb-_xc/s400/DSC01351.jpg" width="292" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Little Biggie likes Ann and Alex's home also. Why not?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-84k5tKScOQo/VhdNj16QfPI/AAAAAAAAW_o/YdnNZM73pqg/s1600/DSC01370.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="436" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-84k5tKScOQo/VhdNj16QfPI/AAAAAAAAW_o/YdnNZM73pqg/s640/DSC01370.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">CLICK ANY PHOTO TO VIEW IT LARGER.<br />
We walked up a little hill and waited as the sun set. Alex used an app on his phone to<br />
figure out the exact spot above which the moon would rise. It was dead on!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UH4rZSKKesU/VhdNiA55s4I/AAAAAAAAW_g/KHptyKlt9OA/s1600/DSC01379.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="326" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UH4rZSKKesU/VhdNiA55s4I/AAAAAAAAW_g/KHptyKlt9OA/s640/DSC01379.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The sun had set but these clouds were still reflecting its fading light.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The next day, Monday, our friends had business in Santa Rosa, a nearby city. While they were there, Stacey and I drove into Sonoma and wandered around the town square, centered on a beautiful park.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6nNwsLXo_rs/VhdR80Yr07I/AAAAAAAAXAE/WVcV0s_Hrf8/s1600/DSC01434.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6nNwsLXo_rs/VhdR80Yr07I/AAAAAAAAXAE/WVcV0s_Hrf8/s400/DSC01434.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Walking around Sonoma we came across this building which<br />
had a door on its second floor. We hoped it was locked to anyone inside<br />
who might want to leave. The town has beautiful old buildings alongside<br />
its central square. Once again, an emphasis on preservation and restoration.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3gUpsyL3fDQ/VhdSBGXZuNI/AAAAAAAAXAQ/iHj0MVQTm3s/s1600/DSC01440.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3gUpsyL3fDQ/VhdSBGXZuNI/AAAAAAAAXAQ/iHj0MVQTm3s/s400/DSC01440.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Buildings adjacent to Sonoma's town square.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Q_4RfYxEaBI/VhdSA_cd-HI/AAAAAAAAXAM/_PcvzL0UCv4/s1600/DSC01449.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="500" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Q_4RfYxEaBI/VhdSA_cd-HI/AAAAAAAAXAM/_PcvzL0UCv4/s640/DSC01449.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sonoma's City Hall is in the middle of this beautiful park which is the center of the town square. Exquisite!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
We had agreed to meet Ann and Alex for lunch when their business in Santa Rosa was completed. So we headed back to their home and the four of us headed out to a local Mexican restaurant, El Molino Central, which both Stacey and I very much enjoyed.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PsJlb-wO7fs/VhdTmChf7WI/AAAAAAAAXAg/T4lB2CEwaEI/s1600/DSC01459.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PsJlb-wO7fs/VhdTmChf7WI/AAAAAAAAXAg/T4lB2CEwaEI/s400/DSC01459.jpg" width="307" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The outside dining at El Molino Mexican restaurant<br />
allowed us to bring the little dog along to our lunch.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RbFUFd47NMg/VhdTmcn8GNI/AAAAAAAAXAk/9iFT_bwLyho/s1600/DSC01461.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RbFUFd47NMg/VhdTmcn8GNI/AAAAAAAAXAk/9iFT_bwLyho/s400/DSC01461.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">El Molino in a nearby town of Aqua Caliente. The food was fresh and delicious.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
After lunch, to work off the calories, the four of us went for a hike in a Sonoma County park. The area they live in is not only the home to many wineries. Parks also, county and state, seem to be all over the place with lots of opportunities for walking, running and cycling. Ann and Alex take advantage by hiking the hills regularly.<br />
<div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xdcOba9P6vI/VhdUplbTdRI/AAAAAAAAXAw/BWcQ25HzOlU/s1600/DSC01473.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xdcOba9P6vI/VhdUplbTdRI/AAAAAAAAXAw/BWcQ25HzOlU/s400/DSC01473.jpg" width="290" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes, you read that right. Alex assured me that<br />
these cats are around but are very reclusive.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Wm-nEnzV3gY/VhdU69AILPI/AAAAAAAAXA4/lIN9RzpkpJA/s1600/DSC01482.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Wm-nEnzV3gY/VhdU69AILPI/AAAAAAAAXA4/lIN9RzpkpJA/s640/DSC01482.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These hills are covered by grass which is yellow and parched but turns a brilliant green from November through May,<br />
the rainy season. Oaks and Manzanita trees stand out from this cover of yellow grass. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nvryd3k2LDI/VhdU7nmpi0I/AAAAAAAAXBA/WDovhzmhxQ4/s1600/DSC01485.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nvryd3k2LDI/VhdU7nmpi0I/AAAAAAAAXBA/WDovhzmhxQ4/s400/DSC01485.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Walking up and up through these stands of gnarly oak trees.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qrGSaoTDJbw/VhdU8YiyOqI/AAAAAAAAXBE/EIsj7r69Mz0/s1600/DSC01513.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="278" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qrGSaoTDJbw/VhdU8YiyOqI/AAAAAAAAXBE/EIsj7r69Mz0/s400/DSC01513.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A red manzanita encircles and entwines itself around an oak.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MVBzneJQCpo/VhdVIvvg5zI/AAAAAAAAXBY/RuBT4egsZOs/s1600/DSC01527.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="476" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MVBzneJQCpo/VhdVIvvg5zI/AAAAAAAAXBY/RuBT4egsZOs/s640/DSC01527.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Taking a break on our hike in the Sonoma Valley Regional Park. We walked along the Corridor Ridge Trail, one of<br />
many in the area surrounding their house.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XWJkSEwWaw0/VhdVHSx2ddI/AAAAAAAAXBQ/zoQBL4txYPo/s1600/DSC01534.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XWJkSEwWaw0/VhdVHSx2ddI/AAAAAAAAXBQ/zoQBL4txYPo/s400/DSC01534.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beautiful views of rolling hills from our trail.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
On Tuesday, Stacey and I drove back into Sonoma for lunch on our own. Alex recommended a nice place, The Red Grape. We explored the town a bit more. Dinner was at home and Alex, who's quite proficient in the kitchen, prepared a lovely meal. We turned in early because we'd be leaving early the next morning to continue our Pacific coast tour. That would include a stop in San Simeon and a tour of the most amazing Hearst Castle there. But for that you'll have to wait with baited breath for my next post. A great big thank you to our hosts who graciously hosted us for these few days!<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-A3GICvE5Xs0/VhdYUfj5J8I/AAAAAAAAXBs/wsAj9XZyrEE/s1600/DSC01562.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-A3GICvE5Xs0/VhdYUfj5J8I/AAAAAAAAXBs/wsAj9XZyrEE/s400/DSC01562.jpg" width="288" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ann at work in the office. Biggie's helping.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aPMM3kXlaBM/VhdYZnym08I/AAAAAAAAXB0/Lg1EG5RIDk8/s1600/DSC01569.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aPMM3kXlaBM/VhdYZnym08I/AAAAAAAAXB0/Lg1EG5RIDk8/s640/DSC01569.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Little Biggie and his favorite perch: a rock in front of our friends' house.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--zap_wbmk3A/VhdYQWnnL4I/AAAAAAAAXBk/7bYVTT62piE/s1600/DSC01581.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="232" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--zap_wbmk3A/VhdYQWnnL4I/AAAAAAAAXBk/7bYVTT62piE/s400/DSC01581.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Walking around Sonoma, this old mission was established by Mexico in<br />
the 1820s. This is a restored version of the original and dates to 1913.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-V0i4I_QDqCk/VhdYbT-LI5I/AAAAAAAAXB8/aP5CEpCyukc/s1600/DSC01590.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-V0i4I_QDqCk/VhdYbT-LI5I/AAAAAAAAXB8/aP5CEpCyukc/s400/DSC01590.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stacey, enjoying lunch at Sonoma's Red Grape restaurant.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NiH8VgiXoQM/VhdYcPwvJtI/AAAAAAAAXCA/C6wnV8tf2Kc/s1600/DSC01630.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="390" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NiH8VgiXoQM/VhdYcPwvJtI/AAAAAAAAXCA/C6wnV8tf2Kc/s640/DSC01630.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My dog, Little Biggie. Poolside at Ann and Alex's house.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Matthew Weinsteinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14951469890072862130noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5629966253623058254.post-67153417233107500922015-10-06T00:05:00.002-07:002015-10-27T12:57:10.524-07:00Down The West Coast -- OregonAnd On To California!And Oh Yeah....The Redwoods!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="text-align: center;">Saturday, September 26, 2015</span><br />
<br />
We had traveled for two days since our stop in Coos Bay, Oregon. There would be be more spectacular coastline, a second overnight in a lovely California town, Arcata (Ar-KAY-ta) and the giant beauties: the California Redwoods. Writing this days later, it's hard to put the memories in proper order. The photos are an aide as they're all dated help to reconstruct our route. But confusion reigns as well: "Where did we have that conversation with the lady selling tomatoes at a greenmarket? Where did we encounter the blanket of fog that appeared so suddenly and shrouded the Pacific from view?" As we go along, I try to remember to photograph sign posts at any particular stop that might give a clue as to where we were.<br />
<br />
Just south of Coos Bay was the sweet little town of Bandon, Oregon with a beautiful lighthouse and harbor and an indoor farmer and crafts market. We stopped for a break and a walk around.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WG3lJZZgXHc/VhMPQOq08II/AAAAAAAAW2U/wJxSektDGeI/s1600/DSC00899.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WG3lJZZgXHc/VhMPQOq08II/AAAAAAAAW2U/wJxSektDGeI/s400/DSC00899.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The town of Banson. And this is Henry. He's composed of junk: plastic,<br />
paper, other crap that's been taken from the waters and beaches<br />
that surround the town. The Pacific states, from my observation,<br />
seem to have a higher degree of sensitivity to environmental hazard<br />
compared <span style="font-size: 12.8px;">to some other places we've been.</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PtiJdb-v6hs/VhMPMU9EFAI/AAAAAAAAW2M/LQ4hGN9KvqU/s1600/DSC00900.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PtiJdb-v6hs/VhMPMU9EFAI/AAAAAAAAW2M/LQ4hGN9KvqU/s400/DSC00900.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Poor Henry the fish.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AY9ItC8IXTc/VhMQIEVVjoI/AAAAAAAAW2c/cGXbD5lTpiM/s1600/DSC00911.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AY9ItC8IXTc/VhMQIEVVjoI/AAAAAAAAW2c/cGXbD5lTpiM/s640/DSC00911.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In Bandon, Oregon. A Coquille Indian totem along with a new recognition of the real history <br />
that talks about the European destruction of indigenous people and their lands. Sadly, quite late.</td></tr>
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<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7SfX3MsYdw4/VhMQ4gO-3gI/AAAAAAAAW2o/b7vFr7o8t8s/s1600/DSC00909.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="270" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7SfX3MsYdw4/VhMQ4gO-3gI/AAAAAAAAW2o/b7vFr7o8t8s/s400/DSC00909.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">CLICK FOR A LARGER VIEW.<br />
European settlers, gold miners, invaded the area around Bandon<br />
where the Coquille tribes had lived for thousands of years. At first they<br />
were welcomed. When it became clear that their goal was to<br />
take over and abuse the land, hostilities developed. The indigenous<br />
people lost their lives, their land ... everything.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9rYuqruGUnU/VhMQ6wL7c1I/AAAAAAAAW2w/j_D-gu9Sme8/s1600/DSC00910.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="281" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9rYuqruGUnU/VhMQ6wL7c1I/AAAAAAAAW2w/j_D-gu9Sme8/s400/DSC00910.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">CLICK TO SEE LARGER.<br />
This sign in Bandon describes the ghastly massacre of Coquille Indians<br />
on January 28, 1854 at this location. The indians were killed as they slept,<br />
burned to death by a mob of gold miners. The dirty deed done, the<br />
surviving Indians were marched by the U.S. Army to a reservation,allowing<br />
the miners to claim the Coquille territory. This is the horrible history, the very<br />
opposite of what was taught in our schools or depicted in past years by<br />
Hollywood. How many Americans know the truth of the expansion<br />
of the United States - "the land of the free and the home of the brave?"</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-41OwtIdD_sw/VhN8o28yL8I/AAAAAAAAW3E/_lALzHTiGe8/s1600/DSC00914.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="252" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-41OwtIdD_sw/VhN8o28yL8I/AAAAAAAAW3E/_lALzHTiGe8/s400/DSC00914.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The pretty little fishing village of Bandon, Oregon.<br />
Sign for a fish market on the harbor.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GskZ5-YYTYs/VhOABviZAyI/AAAAAAAAW3Y/lKJxFYFYu0Q/s1600/DSC00915.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GskZ5-YYTYs/VhOABviZAyI/AAAAAAAAW3Y/lKJxFYFYu0Q/s400/DSC00915.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An Indoor farmers and crafts market in Bandon.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bRaTOKp1o24/VhN__JtWp9I/AAAAAAAAW3Q/Kcx4e-fMKEE/s1600/DSC00919.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bRaTOKp1o24/VhN__JtWp9I/AAAAAAAAW3Q/Kcx4e-fMKEE/s640/DSC00919.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The lighthouse at Bandon. Beyond the jetty, the endless Pacific, Inside, the town's sheltered harbor.</td></tr>
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Driving along, I pointed to what seemed like smoke blowing and billowing in the hills ahead. But no, it was the famous Pacific fog that was being blown off the ocean on to the road and cliffs. As we drove along, the ocean disappeared from view altogether, covered by a thin layer of fog as far as we could see. The sky, however, was still visible and rocky outcrops jutted out from the mist. It was quiet a fantastic scene.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-plaBTtCWsgY/VhODviUgqqI/AAAAAAAAW3s/F-Y5yqbHHYY/s1600/DSC00943.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-plaBTtCWsgY/VhODviUgqqI/AAAAAAAAW3s/F-Y5yqbHHYY/s400/DSC00943.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Is that smoke from a fire ahead? No, it was the famous and<br />
often-present Pacific fog rolling in from the sea.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NCLSaNED14g/VhOD2KKjT9I/AAAAAAAAW30/7qBHm1GDM6M/s1600/DSC00964.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NCLSaNED14g/VhOD2KKjT9I/AAAAAAAAW30/7qBHm1GDM6M/s640/DSC00964.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rocky outcrops would jut up out of the thin layer of fog that covered the sea.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OJaogXJgOkY/VhODIfMDDnI/AAAAAAAAW3k/ShjxBXETDkI/s1600/DSC00982.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="144" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OJaogXJgOkY/VhODIfMDDnI/AAAAAAAAW3k/ShjxBXETDkI/s640/DSC00982.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">CLICK TO SEE THIS FULL SIZE.<br />
A panoramic photo of the fog-covered coast of Oregon, looking south.</td></tr>
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We continued driving to our next night's stop: the pretty town of Arcata, California, said to be "the most enlightened city in California." I'm guessing that means it has a large collection of residents who have a progressive outlook on life. They care about the environment, the city is filled with bike lanes, the greenmarket, which we came upon on Saturday (the next morning after our stop) was big and thriving. A strong ethic of preservation was obvious from the lovely old restored buildings that lined the city's main square. The "square," as in Sonoma, was a very pretty park. Just a very nice scene all around. A quick walk around some back streets showed us a town with lovely houses, many 1930-era bungalows (in pristine condition) and other pretty and well-kept homes.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aRnCta1Rlas/VhPfhycwC7I/AAAAAAAAW4U/o9Acgm2FF0o/s1600/DSC01047.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aRnCta1Rlas/VhPfhycwC7I/AAAAAAAAW4U/o9Acgm2FF0o/s400/DSC01047.jpg" width="341" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peppers anyone? At the Arcata greenmarket.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-c7xzUCqVo6k/VhPfVARalxI/AAAAAAAAW4M/5AVI3zixtI8/s1600/DSC01050.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-c7xzUCqVo6k/VhPfVARalxI/AAAAAAAAW4M/5AVI3zixtI8/s640/DSC01050.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peppers and more peppers.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L6J3ESIZpvk/VhPfnPCiCkI/AAAAAAAAW4c/YyWkt2TvHbQ/s1600/DSC01076.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="302" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L6J3ESIZpvk/VhPfnPCiCkI/AAAAAAAAW4c/YyWkt2TvHbQ/s400/DSC01076.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tomato farmer plying her produce.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oKiJxIf9Y_k/VhPhTb72FoI/AAAAAAAAW44/ElvgD0cD53M/s1600/DSC01092.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oKiJxIf9Y_k/VhPhTb72FoI/AAAAAAAAW44/ElvgD0cD53M/s400/DSC01092.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We really dug this vendor!</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BOzWKD77SpY/VhPhMaeoPsI/AAAAAAAAW4s/4FNKe5gdNeU/s1600/DSC01073.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="372" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BOzWKD77SpY/VhPhMaeoPsI/AAAAAAAAW4s/4FNKe5gdNeU/s640/DSC01073.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Flowers for sale in Arcata.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ls3QHjBcb9U/VhX328DV5_I/AAAAAAAAW-E/LTtiAUnFaUA/s1600/DSC01082.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ls3QHjBcb9U/VhX328DV5_I/AAAAAAAAW-E/LTtiAUnFaUA/s400/DSC01082.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">Sweet onions and red ones too.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-z8eCO69TRJw/VhPizMY7JVI/AAAAAAAAW5I/iCeJgKu8d4s/s1600/DSC01094.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-z8eCO69TRJw/VhPizMY7JVI/AAAAAAAAW5I/iCeJgKu8d4s/s400/DSC01094.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peace be with you. Preserved building houses a peaceful law practice.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R43JS6COa9o/VhPiyo9PemI/AAAAAAAAW5E/UBhNxaMh_d4/s1600/DSC01101.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="295" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R43JS6COa9o/VhPiyo9PemI/AAAAAAAAW5E/UBhNxaMh_d4/s400/DSC01101.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cafes and nice shops line the town square.</td></tr>
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We drove on from Arcata and after a while we found ourselves on a loop road off the Pacific Coast Highway dubbed the <i>Avenue of the Giants.</i> The road here wended its way through Humboldt Redwood State Park, home of the beautiful Redwood trees, some of whom were many hundreds of years old. Once upon a time, these gentle giants covered vast sections of central California's coast lands. The Fortyniners, coming to seek their fortune in gold, soon found that there was greater money to be made in wood, particularly the amounts of wood provided by these enormous trees. So cut them they did, depleting huge sections of old growth redwood groves. What a crime! Money talked and the redwoods vanished from the California lands. Were it not for a handful of enlightened preservationist/activists (much like today's folk who fight valiantly fight climate change) these last few remainig groves would be gone today, just a memory like other species that have disappeared - the victims of humanity's greed.<br />
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It was very difficult, and I apologize to you, to do a proper job of photographing these beautiful trees with any clarity that can show just how magnificent they are. I'd need many days, which we didn't have, to be there at the right time with the right light and the right vantage and more skill to capture their grandeur and commanding presence.</div>
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Visiting them and walking through these groves is a very humbling experience. These are the tallest living things on earth and the idea that they were cut down for someone's profit without any thought of preservation is just horrible to contemplate.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IZbbYEQW39U/VhPkO0v1UoI/AAAAAAAAW5k/8Nkm33GuZ_U/s1600/DSC01117.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="288" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IZbbYEQW39U/VhPkO0v1UoI/AAAAAAAAW5k/8Nkm33GuZ_U/s400/DSC01117.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Entering Humboldt Redwood State Park.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-X_NzoLbIlVg/VhPlojRsGhI/AAAAAAAAW54/8aIeokClPEo/s1600/DSC01126.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="458" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-X_NzoLbIlVg/VhPlojRsGhI/AAAAAAAAW54/8aIeokClPEo/s640/DSC01126.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Avenue Of The Giants - a loop road that runs through groves of old growth redwoods.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HujH6scqFwA/VhPmviTacKI/AAAAAAAAW6A/xOMd_Nlu8ss/s1600/DSC01134.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HujH6scqFwA/VhPmviTacKI/AAAAAAAAW6A/xOMd_Nlu8ss/s400/DSC01134.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">CLICK ON ANY PHOTO TO SEE IT LARGER.<br />
It's hard to depict in these "snapshots" the<br />
beauty and grandeur of these tallest of living things.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tJsBUEI28b4/VhPob7flX-I/AAAAAAAAW6U/0EL6lX8-rAw/s1600/DSC01153.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tJsBUEI28b4/VhPob7flX-I/AAAAAAAAW6U/0EL6lX8-rAw/s640/DSC01153.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A woman, a dog, a redwood. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TxWYAv4LDvk/VhU2rQn8sAI/AAAAAAAAW9M/U-rjnUaHu-c/s1600/DSC01174.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TxWYAv4LDvk/VhU2rQn8sAI/AAAAAAAAW9M/U-rjnUaHu-c/s640/DSC01174.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These giant trees die and then are allowed (in the park) to lie where they fall.<br />
They revert back to soil, other plants feed and grow on them and the cycle is repeated.<br />
Redwoods can live over a thousand years!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6CSwDngYHS4/VhU2rNW89XI/AAAAAAAAW9I/kFMk9XDWoBc/s1600/DSC01179.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6CSwDngYHS4/VhU2rNW89XI/AAAAAAAAW9I/kFMk9XDWoBc/s640/DSC01179.jpg" width="425" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nature's beautiful creation.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GCAe-CpZVbQ/VhU2hUh1uTI/AAAAAAAAW9A/fHFppSvwUu8/s1600/DSC01213.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GCAe-CpZVbQ/VhU2hUh1uTI/AAAAAAAAW9A/fHFppSvwUu8/s640/DSC01213.jpg" width="425" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The tallest living things on earth.</td></tr>
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There are a few tiny towns along the The Avenue Of The Giants inside the park where you can stop, buy supplies or get something to eat. We drove on and late that afternoon arrived at our friends, Ann and Alex Frick's house in Glen Ellen - California wine country!</div>
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We unpacked, rested a bit and had dinner in a pretty little restaurant just down the road from their place. It had been a wonderful day. There was more to come on the coast but we'd spend a few days with out friends, enjoying their company, catching up on goings on, taking a hike, viewing the lunar eclipse and, yes, taking a break from driving. </div>
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When we left our friends in Glen Ellen we'd head further south. Next stop: San Simeon and the incredible wonder of Hearst Castle. </div>
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See you there! - Matt<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xhT2Y8V1GkM/VhU3MS3ZZrI/AAAAAAAAW9Y/3-tve8tT5G8/s1600/DSC01291.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="330" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xhT2Y8V1GkM/VhU3MS3ZZrI/AAAAAAAAW9Y/3-tve8tT5G8/s400/DSC01291.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A stop for lunch in one of the tiny villages that are found<br />
along The Avenue Of The Giants<br />
Hmmm...wonder what Biggie is looking at?</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3bAWTCuPF5Y/VhU3O0rnU9I/AAAAAAAAW9g/V9Gy3ESOUtM/s1600/DSC01312.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="293" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3bAWTCuPF5Y/VhU3O0rnU9I/AAAAAAAAW9g/V9Gy3ESOUtM/s400/DSC01312.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We made it! In Glen Ellen at our friends' house.<br />
And out for a nice dinner at the Glenn Ellen Inn with Ann and Alex.<br />
I know Ann for fifty years from our days at Brooklyn College -- a good friend.</td></tr>
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Matthew Weinsteinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14951469890072862130noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5629966253623058254.post-25793472397081864742015-10-02T19:30:00.000-07:002015-10-05T16:40:49.731-07:00More Oregon CoastThursday, September 24, 2015<br />
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We arrived at Cannon Beach in time for a sunset walk on the beach. We were ensconced in the Wayside Inn. Waking the next morning, Wednesday, we stopped for an espresso at the Sea Level cafe just a block away and then headed again to the beach for a walk and another look at Haystack Rock. Besides, Biggie, whose day consisted of lying on the back seat of our car for hours on end, needed the exercise and room to roam desperately. Come to think of it, so did we. Seems like we were always heading to another destination, leaving little time to explore or enjoy a hike. Again, the National Parks prohibit dogs, even on leash, on their trails. That put a kibosh on that activity, unless, that is, we wanted to ignore the rules.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nMjH6aTwAmo/Vg811TIlwPI/AAAAAAAAWzE/2984zLRJ1y8/s1600/DSC00743.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nMjH6aTwAmo/Vg811TIlwPI/AAAAAAAAWzE/2984zLRJ1y8/s640/DSC00743.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At The Windbreaker hotel in Cannon Beach, Oregon. <br />
Guess what Biggie is looking at from our balcony.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ryuqq1fVCD4/Vg82w6qpZiI/AAAAAAAAWzM/Ator6EPtMco/s1600/DSC00753.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ryuqq1fVCD4/Vg82w6qpZiI/AAAAAAAAWzM/Ator6EPtMco/s400/DSC00753.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At the Sea Level coffee shop in Cannon Beach.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eTREbpADreM/Vg83M758jXI/AAAAAAAAWzc/ir7i6uRdqXg/s1600/DSC00760.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eTREbpADreM/Vg83M758jXI/AAAAAAAAWzc/ir7i6uRdqXg/s400/DSC00760.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Biggie's in paradise. Chasing a ball on a wide beach. <br />
Note the long shadows. It's 9:00 am.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MG_p0LlJ_3Y/Vg83Ma4wanI/AAAAAAAAWzY/2wglMd2T5Vw/s1600/DSC00765.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MG_p0LlJ_3Y/Vg83Ma4wanI/AAAAAAAAWzY/2wglMd2T5Vw/s640/DSC00765.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look at the size of the people in the back right to get an idea of just how gigantic this outcrop is. <br />
Haystack Rock, Cannon Beach. Biggie had never been to a beach before this.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6cIim24_bFc/Vg83p7ZmrhI/AAAAAAAAWzo/REyFQujRBwo/s1600/DSC00768.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6cIim24_bFc/Vg83p7ZmrhI/AAAAAAAAWzo/REyFQujRBwo/s640/DSC00768.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Spectacular view south along the shore at Cannon Beach.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div>
Part of the fun of travel is to meet other people, either natives or other travelers like us. On the beach, we struck up a conversation with the Plummer family from Arizona. Their passion was baseball and their travel consisted of visiting as many ball parks as possible. They planned to be in New York next September. So we offered them a grand tour if they gave us notice. We exchanged emails and we're looking forward to showing them our town when they visit. </div>
<div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_YuG057CZkI/Vg86yliC4yI/AAAAAAAAWz0/Xc9b59vYb-I/s1600/temp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_YuG057CZkI/Vg86yliC4yI/AAAAAAAAWz0/Xc9b59vYb-I/s400/temp.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Exchanging email addresses with the Plummer<br />
family: Gary, Sharon and their daughter, Crystal.<br />
Looking forward to showing them NYC next year.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
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<div>
We returned to our hotel, packed the bags and hit the road. Our eventual destination would be our friends' house in California wine country. But we'd have another two nights out before that. We made a reservation and plans to stop in Coos Bay, Oregon - about half way to Glen Ellen where our friends live. Then yet another stop in Arcata (pronounced Ar-KAY-ta), said to be the "most enlightened town in California." That would be the base for driving through the California redwood groves, the latter, an unforgettable experience.</div>
<div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TMQL6wFObdQ/Vg87cr20ETI/AAAAAAAAWz8/hA6YXKQpxpM/s1600/DSC00779.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="246" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TMQL6wFObdQ/Vg87cr20ETI/AAAAAAAAWz8/hA6YXKQpxpM/s400/DSC00779.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wherever you go, that's where you are!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-w0ab2FrLx20/Vg87ejTL3uI/AAAAAAAAW0I/l3paeU7CGRo/s1600/DSC00785.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-w0ab2FrLx20/Vg87ejTL3uI/AAAAAAAAW0I/l3paeU7CGRo/s640/DSC00785.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Oregon coast was one magnificent vista after another: rugged mountains, sheer cliffs descending to crashing waves far below, windswept pines clinging to the sides of the precipice and endless sand beaches.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_jVn9KqAs6Y/Vg87ekcffkI/AAAAAAAAW0E/5M4E72kGng4/s1600/DSC00791.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_jVn9KqAs6Y/Vg87ekcffkI/AAAAAAAAW0E/5M4E72kGng4/s400/DSC00791.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Manhattan Beach: reminiscences of Brooklyn. <br />
By the way, Oregon is said to have more state parks than any other state. <br />
And it certainly seemed that way as we rolled along.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tO6usJRI4TI/Vg87jAACulI/AAAAAAAAW0c/nybjihN7Lh0/s1600/DSC00814.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="414" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tO6usJRI4TI/Vg87jAACulI/AAAAAAAAW0c/nybjihN7Lh0/s640/DSC00814.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Land's end. On the Oregon coast. Depoe Bay.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bRLNoHi54jY/Vg87kVaYJwI/AAAAAAAAW0k/XJ6IZRPniqE/s1600/DSC00850.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bRLNoHi54jY/Vg87kVaYJwI/AAAAAAAAW0k/XJ6IZRPniqE/s400/DSC00850.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pacific Coast Highway, looking back from where we came. <br />
Oregon coast and mountains.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8EDt-Jfm0q4/Vg87kfRzmGI/AAAAAAAAW0o/4QQ1wMXSkCs/s1600/DSC00855.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8EDt-Jfm0q4/Vg87kfRzmGI/AAAAAAAAW0o/4QQ1wMXSkCs/s640/DSC00855.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heceta Head. The spectacular Oregon coast.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t6V2YOfYdGc/Vg87nXVXNPI/AAAAAAAAW00/60x1EukWtM0/s1600/DSC00867.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t6V2YOfYdGc/Vg87nXVXNPI/AAAAAAAAW00/60x1EukWtM0/s400/DSC00867.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stacey and The Bigster at Heceta Head. <br />
PCH bridge in the back. Stunning!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Dg_vFcPncgk/Vg87oI6P6FI/AAAAAAAAW04/iBGdJIZafdY/s1600/DSC00873.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Dg_vFcPncgk/Vg87oI6P6FI/AAAAAAAAW04/iBGdJIZafdY/s640/DSC00873.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heceta Head. Oregon coast.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Tune in for my next post: the unforgettable, and very humbling, California Redwoods.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
A bientot! - Matthieu</div>
</div>
Matthew Weinsteinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14951469890072862130noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5629966253623058254.post-58717019301884252282015-09-29T21:05:00.004-07:002015-10-02T16:00:45.100-07:00Southbound On The West Coast - Sensational, Wondrous, Dazzling.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="88" msallowfullscreen="" src="https://app.box.com/embed/preview/in51syj38ksuj0b2h52hukzsuho8zc5z?view=&sort=&direction=ASC&theme=dark" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="330"></iframe></div>
<i><span style="color: white; font-size: x-small;"><b>To celebrate the beautiful northwest, listen to this recording of </b></span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: white; font-size: x-small;"><b>Woody Guthrie's song, Roll On Columbia, recorded by </b></span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: white; font-size: x-small;"><b>Dave Mallett and The Mallett Brothers. </b></span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: white; font-size: x-small;"><b>It's now the official folk song of the state of Washington.</b></span></i><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Wednesday, September 23, 2015</div>
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We left Poulsbo and the family and headed south. It took us a while but we reached the famous U.S. 101 - part of a collection of roads designated as the <i><b><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pacific_Highway_(United_States)" target="_blank">Pacific Coast Highway.</a></b></i> which runs from the most northwesterly point of the United States up yonder on the Olympic peninsula to the southern tip of Baja California. And it passes through an interesting and varied coastline with hilly terrain and some of the most spectacular scenery imaginable: the vast and endless beauty of the seething Pacific ocean, giant rocky monoliths that jut up out of the sea floor, often shrouded in fog, wide and empty sand beaches that stretch on for miles and the grandeur of the redwood giants, some of which have inhabited this earth for as long as a thousand years. Seeing them is a humbling experience if there ever was one. There are quaint villages to explore and twisty roads to drive on, making it difficult to gaze out at the impossible vistas that greet you at every turn. Thankfully, there are innumerable turnouts that afford a place to just rest and look and think about the beauty of this country of ours.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pdriQcQQanc/Vgtd1YGTxAI/AAAAAAAAWtg/47mAYNqs-UQ/s1600/DSC00626.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="307" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pdriQcQQanc/Vgtd1YGTxAI/AAAAAAAAWtg/47mAYNqs-UQ/s400/DSC00626.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crossing the Columbia river on the Astoria-Megler bridge from <br />
Washington to Oregon. The city of Astoria, Oregon is on the far bank. <br />
Just around the bend in the river here is where Louis and Clark g<br />
ot their first view of the Pacific ocean.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-drAl3hXA_4k/Vgte0P2FgYI/AAAAAAAAWt0/4qbgB4KbYEI/s1600/DSC00641.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="364" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-drAl3hXA_4k/Vgte0P2FgYI/AAAAAAAAWt0/4qbgB4KbYEI/s640/DSC00641.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We stopped for lunch in Astoria on the banks of the Columbia. These sea lions were cavorting <br />
and barking loudly as they swam up and down the harbor. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: right;">
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<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iSm9SdmybDM/VgtezvZ2vyI/AAAAAAAAWtw/oaaXa9y6UxA/s1600/DSC00643.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iSm9SdmybDM/VgtezvZ2vyI/AAAAAAAAWtw/oaaXa9y6UxA/s400/DSC00643.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Quite beautiful: the Columbia River as it flows out to the Pacific.<br />
At this point it is five miles wide. This is the point where<br />
Louis and Clark completed their historic explorative journey.<br />
But they had to pause a few days, waiting for the turbulent wind and waters<br />
o calm before they could view the Pacific ocean.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Astoria, like many of these western towns, has been able to reinvent itself to some extent. This is a proces we'd seen repeated in many of the cities and town that we passed through. As industry dried up, in this case logging and fishing, tourism takes its place. Or at least that's the idea. Towns have reclaimed and restored their old historic main streets, repurposing buildings to house shops and restaurants and other businesses. Sometimes it works; often it doesn't or it's a work in progress. We saw success though in Idaho Falls, Walla Walla and now Astoria, Oregon.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pQ599FPXEuM/VgthgP2O1SI/AAAAAAAAWuI/A1qXNq8EtH0/s1600/DSC00650.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pQ599FPXEuM/VgthgP2O1SI/AAAAAAAAWuI/A1qXNq8EtH0/s400/DSC00650.jpg" width="285" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">City wastebaskets have reproductions of old<br />
salmon cans emblazoned on them.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7sHPUn95PN4/VgthesKreiI/AAAAAAAAWt8/PmV55IarLAw/s1600/DSC00651.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7sHPUn95PN4/VgthesKreiI/AAAAAAAAWt8/PmV55IarLAw/s400/DSC00651.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This old art deco building is now a restaurant.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-azfwpCxgYMQ/VgthfUOU_DI/AAAAAAAAWuE/0FJ_j4V0kns/s1600/DSC00653.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-azfwpCxgYMQ/VgthfUOU_DI/AAAAAAAAWuE/0FJ_j4V0kns/s640/DSC00653.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They built incredibly beautiful and ornate theaters in many<br />
of these western towns. Impressive!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2I0Eg65vD3w/Vgthg_jyPYI/AAAAAAAAWuQ/OVpZ0WgzVsM/s1600/DSC00661.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="227" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2I0Eg65vD3w/Vgthg_jyPYI/AAAAAAAAWuQ/OVpZ0WgzVsM/s400/DSC00661.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Astoria street corner and historic buildings.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Tt0zwT6RrZ4/VgthiLS2YAI/AAAAAAAAWuc/YXUw9Pk1utM/s1600/DSC00665.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Tt0zwT6RrZ4/VgthiLS2YAI/AAAAAAAAWuc/YXUw9Pk1utM/s400/DSC00665.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another waste basket: Gill Netters Best.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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We drove on to our evening's stopping point: Cannon Beach with its famous Haystack Rock, a massive rock that juts up from the ocean floor. It's surrounded by other monoliths and provides a stunning vista of churning ocean that constantly pounds the rocks, sand beach and, by comparison, tiny humans walking on this vast and sweeping expanse of beach.<br />
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<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0btM6lAadq4/Vgti8OBUTKI/AAAAAAAAWu4/rGMCKcW-aC8/s1600/DSC00671.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0btM6lAadq4/Vgti8OBUTKI/AAAAAAAAWu4/rGMCKcW-aC8/s400/DSC00671.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our hotel, the Wayside Inn, was right across the road from the beach.<br />
Great location and lovely hotel. Pet friendly too!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WsdnL4Wfmfc/Vgti7nfLjXI/AAAAAAAAWus/KkVT1a5cYfs/s1600/DSC00674.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WsdnL4Wfmfc/Vgti7nfLjXI/AAAAAAAAWus/KkVT1a5cYfs/s400/DSC00674.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We walked on the beach as the sun was peeking out from the<br />
bottom of these clouds, creating a dramatic sunset.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mzbvEFugKAE/Vgti7V73_AI/AAAAAAAAWuo/c5tysSo-hAo/s1600/DSC00676.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mzbvEFugKAE/Vgti7V73_AI/AAAAAAAAWuo/c5tysSo-hAo/s400/DSC00676.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Biggie finally gets a chance to chase a ball<br />
after being cooped up in the car all day.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_mCfAcYDfcM/VgtjBgQxuAI/AAAAAAAAWvM/6MXg7pgygr0/s1600/DSC00683.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="452" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_mCfAcYDfcM/VgtjBgQxuAI/AAAAAAAAWvM/6MXg7pgygr0/s640/DSC00683.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Canon Beach and its famous Haystack Rock. You can't realize just how large it is until you<br />
see people standing next to it in the distance -- they're tiny by comparison and then you suddenly<br />
appreciate the massive size of this outcropping. It towers 235 feet above the beach.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-n1qS6WNZEDQ/VgtjBnTrm5I/AAAAAAAAWvI/tpDV3bhBdDQ/s1600/DSC00687.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="261" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-n1qS6WNZEDQ/VgtjBnTrm5I/AAAAAAAAWvI/tpDV3bhBdDQ/s400/DSC00687.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cannon Beach - the sun set after it peeked out from under this cloud-laden sky.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Spectacular Cannon Beach.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qlRuY0qCCmg/Vgti_dmhcRI/AAAAAAAAWvE/CTOlwJtULig/s1600/DSC00692.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="144" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qlRuY0qCCmg/Vgti_dmhcRI/AAAAAAAAWvE/CTOlwJtULig/s640/DSC00692.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">CLICK FOR A LARGER VIEW<br />
A panorama of Cannon Beach at sunset.</td></tr>
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Tomorrow we'd continue along this amazing highway, stopping in Coos Bay, Oregon and the next night in Arcata, California.<br />
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Check back for more of our road trip. - Matt<br />
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Matthew Weinsteinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14951469890072862130noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5629966253623058254.post-8541520201778542872015-09-28T22:55:00.006-07:002015-10-26T07:14:24.731-07:00With The Family ...In Poulsbo (pronounced PAULsbo)Wednesday, September 23, 2015<br />
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The last leg of the <i>westward </i>part of our cross country road trip delivered us to familiar surroundings, not to mention family, in Poulsbo, Washington. That town is on Liberty Bay which is an arm of Puget Sound and lies on Kitsap island directly across the sound from Seattle. It was founded by Norwegian immigrants in the 1880s who replaced the native Suquamish people who inhabited the shores along Liberty Bay for some 5,000 years, hunting, fishing and collecting shellfish in the waters of their shoreline.<br />
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Poulsbo is pronounced Paulsbo. But why? Not some regional pronunciation, but, as the story goes, the fault lay in illegible handwriting. Early residents, naming the town after one in Norway from whence they emigrated, wanted a post office for their new village and registered the name with Washington, DC. Some bureaucrat there misread the application, mistaking the "a" in Paulsbo for an "o." It was never corrected and remains that way today. Except, of course, for the pronunciation which remains decidedly PAULsbo.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-H74SpW9haaU/VgoopcOJAkI/AAAAAAAAWoc/KDPHJRSz-kk/s1600/temp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-H74SpW9haaU/VgoopcOJAkI/AAAAAAAAWoc/KDPHJRSz-kk/s400/temp.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">CLICK TO SEE A LARGER IMAGE<br />
Poulsbo is in the upper left on the Kitsap Peninsula.<br />
It's lies across Puget Sound from Seattle.</td></tr>
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Dani and Erik, along with our grandsons, Sammy and Ethan, live a ways outside of town in a lovely house with a huge backyard . The house fronts on a quiet cul-de-sac that provides lots of room and a safe place to play, ride their bikes and scooters and hang out with friends on the block.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-69zEvclNo58/Vgodiek4HFI/AAAAAAAAWnc/qu4dAmPlVaw/s1600/DSC00199.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-69zEvclNo58/Vgodiek4HFI/AAAAAAAAWnc/qu4dAmPlVaw/s400/DSC00199.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ethan rides his bike on a safe cul-de-sac in<br />
front of his house.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Fdq92n0hTZY/Vgodhyahe4I/AAAAAAAAWnY/0Wh0T4oI2uI/s1600/DSC00250.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Fdq92n0hTZY/Vgodhyahe4I/AAAAAAAAWnY/0Wh0T4oI2uI/s400/DSC00250.jpg" width="305" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My sweet grandson Sammy on his scooter.</td></tr>
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We arrived in Poulsbo on Thursday, September 17th and stayed for six days of fun and family. There were lots of good times - just hanging out, enjoying some good home-cooked meals, visiting some local towns and spending the day at the Washington State Fair. Stacey and I also got to spend a day on our own in Seattle, taking the ferry in and out (a wonderful trip in and of itself) for lunch in that city's Chinatown and a trip to the Ballard Locks.<br />
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On Saturday we visited a neighboring town of Gig Harbor to see Dani's photograph that was on display in a juried exhibition at the museum there. A nautical fair was taking place as we got there so we perused the crafts as well.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jWpOtfnp2lE/VgomzXonyHI/AAAAAAAAWoE/MlD5_xVoetM/s1600/DSC00127.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="331" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jWpOtfnp2lE/VgomzXonyHI/AAAAAAAAWoE/MlD5_xVoetM/s400/DSC00127.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dani and her juried photograph on exhbiti i<span style="font-size: 12.8px;">n the museum in Gig Harbor.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rUxr4drJNNE/VgomwvL_PMI/AAAAAAAAWnw/WLH92aPsGOk/s1600/DSC00130.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="491" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rUxr4drJNNE/VgomwvL_PMI/AAAAAAAAWnw/WLH92aPsGOk/s640/DSC00130.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Solitary" the beautiful photo by my daugher.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4dwo_Jv5Ngk/VgomxI5_TvI/AAAAAAAAWn4/4qRxn1ojIiY/s1600/DSC00133.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4dwo_Jv5Ngk/VgomxI5_TvI/AAAAAAAAWn4/4qRxn1ojIiY/s400/DSC00133.jpg" width="291" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sammy climbs out of a fish's mouth on<br />
display at the Nautical Fair in Gigs Harbor.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7oMKLpMNH7M/VgomzFImkkI/AAAAAAAAWoA/PM-CfydAKhA/s1600/DSC00136.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7oMKLpMNH7M/VgomzFImkkI/AAAAAAAAWoA/PM-CfydAKhA/s400/DSC00136.jpg" width="335" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ethan slides out of the mouth of a fish.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TZ7dFrEnYRw/Vgom2nnRD5I/AAAAAAAAWoQ/vvcqxHTZLyc/s1600/DSC00174.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TZ7dFrEnYRw/Vgom2nnRD5I/AAAAAAAAWoQ/vvcqxHTZLyc/s640/DSC00174.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The ham family....hamming it up.</td></tr>
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The next day, Sunday—we took a drive to Puyallup (pronounced Pyu-AL-up), a town near Tacoma at the southern end of Puget Sound, named for the native people who used to inhabit the valley surrounding the present day city. The name means "generous people." Perhaps they were a bit too generous and welcoming as they were soon overwhelmed by settlers and eventually forced on to reservations. To this day the grave injustice of this ethnic cleansing has never been righted. More of this sad history can be found on the tribe's website <a href="http://www.puyallup-tribe.com/about/" target="_blank"><b>here</b></a>.<br />
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Puyallup is also the sight of the annual Washington State Fair which is the state's largest single attraction and lasts17 days each September. I'm not one for these kind of events but it turned out to be a fun day for all of us. My favorite part? The livestock displays: cows, llamas, alpacas, pigs and more, tended to with love and expertise by farmers and their families.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CnRnYx-yTtE/VgoyHN9boyI/AAAAAAAAWos/t-fztinFYc4/s1600/DSC00279.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CnRnYx-yTtE/VgoyHN9boyI/AAAAAAAAWos/t-fztinFYc4/s400/DSC00279.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Welcome to the Washington State Fair!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zAWQWh092j8/VgoyJksLX7I/AAAAAAAAWo0/oIUL5xi-pIU/s1600/DSC00282.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zAWQWh092j8/VgoyJksLX7I/AAAAAAAAWo0/oIUL5xi-pIU/s400/DSC00282.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">State Fair entertainment dudes.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qw4niCiL7co/VgoyKgCF6sI/AAAAAAAAWo8/qaNwitj5pAM/s1600/DSC00290.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="288" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qw4niCiL7co/VgoyKgCF6sI/AAAAAAAAWo8/qaNwitj5pAM/s400/DSC00290.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Curiosity.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-texN0tkPhAI/VgoyPWPjUYI/AAAAAAAAWpE/4vDaVJxHQtw/s1600/DSC00298.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-texN0tkPhAI/VgoyPWPjUYI/AAAAAAAAWpE/4vDaVJxHQtw/s640/DSC00298.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Let's see how this contraption works.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-T9zvABCb-V0/VgoyfYe3yZI/AAAAAAAAWpM/YNeBGDdo9-M/s1600/DSC00301.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="328" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-T9zvABCb-V0/VgoyfYe3yZI/AAAAAAAAWpM/YNeBGDdo9-M/s400/DSC00301.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kissy kissy.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XD98HszccGc/VgoyfxQlGEI/AAAAAAAAWpU/GZClRQ3JP38/s1600/DSC00388.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XD98HszccGc/VgoyfxQlGEI/AAAAAAAAWpU/GZClRQ3JP38/s400/DSC00388.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sammy tries to ring a rubber ducky and<br />
win a prize.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BIs8PHvtuUE/VgoygfsB1NI/AAAAAAAAWpY/K3ie8CR1rdk/s1600/DSC00398-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BIs8PHvtuUE/VgoygfsB1NI/AAAAAAAAWpY/K3ie8CR1rdk/s400/DSC00398-2.jpg" width="381" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ethan whacs-a-mole.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-C1hf2kXfd1E/VgoyizE7nXI/AAAAAAAAWpk/CEVM_xpnhKE/s1600/DSC00437.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-C1hf2kXfd1E/VgoyizE7nXI/AAAAAAAAWpk/CEVM_xpnhKE/s640/DSC00437.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stacey's getting a little carried away on the bumper cars as Ethan seems to be wondering if he's in good hands.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-u-ZRGtwRhqo/Vgoyjk50GpI/AAAAAAAAWps/SFFqYHCMTAk/s1600/DSC00440.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-u-ZRGtwRhqo/Vgoyjk50GpI/AAAAAAAAWps/SFFqYHCMTAk/s400/DSC00440.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lots of fun at the Washington State Fair!</td></tr>
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On another day, while the kids were in school, Stacey, Dani and I drove over to the pretty little town of Bainbridge (that's where one catches the ferry to Seattle) for a walk around, some shopping and a light lunch. It was a nice day and the town and the island of the same name that surrounds it has a great ambiance with lots to offer: beautiful parks with hiking trails, galleries, restaurants, shops and cafes. All these make it a good destination.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Mg86B3fU6g0/Vgo1VGH80sI/AAAAAAAAWp4/vfOuQm6X-hk/s1600/DSC00481.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Mg86B3fU6g0/Vgo1VGH80sI/AAAAAAAAWp4/vfOuQm6X-hk/s400/DSC00481.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dani and Stacey in Bainbridge.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-F3stG_S3Zyo/Vgo1V89kykI/AAAAAAAAWp8/cyjvVjC2WCc/s1600/DSC00490.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-F3stG_S3Zyo/Vgo1V89kykI/AAAAAAAAWp8/cyjvVjC2WCc/s640/DSC00490.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The sign says it all - a nice place to visit and also the ferry to Seattle.</td></tr>
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Stacey and I would spend one more day in Poulsbo before heading down the Pacific Coast Highway that meanders along the Wasington, Oregon and California coasts. On Tuesday we drove to nearby Bainbridge once again, but this time to take the ferry to Seattle.<br />
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<tr><td><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6RJecYSTyVM/VgsRJfdXArI/AAAAAAAAWqo/WLrJv7nhZI4/s1600/DSC00515.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6RJecYSTyVM/VgsRJfdXArI/AAAAAAAAWqo/WLrJv7nhZI4/s400/DSC00515.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Seattle is surrounded by water. They do a great job getting people<br />
around with an efficient and inexpensive system of powerful<br />
and comfortable feries.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wWSkJQfT67I/VgsRQTJ0LFI/AAAAAAAAWrA/uws6BaF5eII/s1600/DSC00501.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-size: medium; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wWSkJQfT67I/VgsRQTJ0LFI/AAAAAAAAWrA/uws6BaF5eII/s640/DSC00501.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sail away - we're heading from Bainbridge to Seattle. </td></tr>
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<span style="text-align: left;">We'd have lunch in the International District which is home to the city's Chinese restaurants. We followed that with espresso and a really great donut at Top Pot Donuts, housed in a repurposed deco building.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-P8LagqEsO54/VgsRKaJt6II/AAAAAAAAWq8/vGOnrpPtspg/s1600/DSC00520.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-P8LagqEsO54/VgsRKaJt6II/AAAAAAAAWq8/vGOnrpPtspg/s400/DSC00520.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A lunch of oysters with toasted garlic at<br />
Harbor City, a Chinese restaurant in<br />
Seattle's International District.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Bosn3F3dxA4/VgsRKUQK8QI/AAAAAAAAWq4/6gSotVIf-1M/s1600/DSC00521.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Bosn3F3dxA4/VgsRKUQK8QI/AAAAAAAAWq4/6gSotVIf-1M/s400/DSC00521.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My roast pork wonton soup. Yes!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-j9R3N1cNxOE/VgsT5pkOLlI/AAAAAAAAWrM/Dqcw1Cemr-Q/s1600/DSC00526.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="390" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-j9R3N1cNxOE/VgsT5pkOLlI/AAAAAAAAWrM/Dqcw1Cemr-Q/s640/DSC00526.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">For desesrt - Top Pot Donuts on Fifth Avenue just north of downtown Seattle.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f8NO_iOVuYU/VgsT61B9wHI/AAAAAAAAWrU/kaI9vxk6Foc/s1600/DSC00529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f8NO_iOVuYU/VgsT61B9wHI/AAAAAAAAWrU/kaI9vxk6Foc/s400/DSC00529.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Retro digs for donuts at Top Pot.</td></tr>
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After our donut dessert we drove to a Seattle attraction that we've been to once before: the <b><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hiram_M._Chittenden_Locks" target="_blank">Chittenden Locks.</a></b> Located in what used to be a hardscrabble blue collar neighborhood of light industry, docks and warehouses, Ballard is now a hip and funky place with lots of cute shops, restaurants and bars - a fun place to explore. But, I wondered, what happened to all the workers who used to reside here? Driven out by increased property values? The same phenomenon everywhere we go.<br />
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The Ballard Locks, as they are also called, are an engineering marvel built in 1917. They are the most heavily used locks in the U.S. and carry the name of the engineer who designed them: Hiram M. Chittenden. They perform the task of connecting Puget Sound at sea level to the much higher Lake Washington to the east of the city. What was non-navigable before the locks were built, is now an easy passage for pleasure boats and ocean-going freighters and fishing boats. Lake Washington was an important logging port because it lay at the foot of the Cascade mountains but getting the products from its shores to the port of Seattle for destinations down the west coast was a very difficult matter. </div>
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We returned a second time because the process is fascinating to watch. As boats come in from the Sound or depart for it, the process of raising or lowering them inside the lock's chambers grabs and holds your attention. This is one of Seattle's biggest attractions, attracting over a million people a year.<br />
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An interesting sideshow: Salmon once spawned in the streams and creeks that flowed out of Lake Washington. With the building of the locks they'd be blocked from returning to their spawning waters to lay their eggs. Chittenden realized the problem and built a fish ladder that allowed them to bypass the locks and dam that were being built. An added bonus: underwater viewing windows so we humans could watch the fish as they made their way up stream. We were off season for viewing salmon last time we visited. Not so this time.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--DenW2TIF4Y/VgsXx7OgECI/AAAAAAAAWsc/IRtangtlCWE/s1600/DSC00540%2B-%2BCopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--DenW2TIF4Y/VgsXx7OgECI/AAAAAAAAWsc/IRtangtlCWE/s400/DSC00540%2B-%2BCopy.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here come some boats. Lots of spectators, <br />
including this group of visiting Japanese high school students from Tokyo.<br />
There are two sets of locks. This is the smaller, purpose-built for small<br />
pleasure craft. The other one serves large ocean-going vessels.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5epwDTTVOmA/VgsXxqH1UBI/AAAAAAAAWsY/aUaKM8rqzgU/s1600/DSC00546%2B-%2BCopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5epwDTTVOmA/VgsXxqH1UBI/AAAAAAAAWsY/aUaKM8rqzgU/s400/DSC00546%2B-%2BCopy.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After the boats enter the lock, the gate closes behind them,<br />
t<span style="font-size: 12.8px;">he boats tie up to a sliding wall that rises with the water that's pumped</span><br />
in to bring them up to the level of inland Lake Washington, east of Seattle.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5CC2Vvx2K2c/VgsXx3B1BuI/AAAAAAAAWsg/gP6ob1UfK2Q/s1600/DSC00548%2B-%2BCopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5CC2Vvx2K2c/VgsXx3B1BuI/AAAAAAAAWsg/gP6ob1UfK2Q/s640/DSC00548%2B-%2BCopy.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Going up! Notice that the back gate is now closed and the level behind it is much lower. <br />
When the level is equal to the water beyond the front gate (i.e. equal to the water level in Lake Washington) the front gate will open and the boats will get under way. Cool! The bridge visible in the back is a reailroad bridge <br />
that's kept open until needed.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xevlL8ovlV8/VgsXM_GKizI/AAAAAAAAWro/z_M7iwsGGNk/s1600/DSC00550%2B-%2BCopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xevlL8ovlV8/VgsXM_GKizI/AAAAAAAAWro/z_M7iwsGGNk/s400/DSC00550%2B-%2BCopy.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">CLICK TO SE LARGER<br />
A sign explains how the fish ladder works.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zfXeLjOX01c/VgsXRFY0ofI/AAAAAAAAWr0/fVN4Y4FAtKU/s1600/DSC00551%2B-%2BCopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zfXeLjOX01c/VgsXRFY0ofI/AAAAAAAAWr0/fVN4Y4FAtKU/s640/DSC00551%2B-%2BCopy.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Salmon swimming up toward Lake Washington courtesy of the fish ladder.<br />
We get to see them thanks to these underwater viewing windows. Cool!</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Zge-MK5Nn-g/VgsXS83X6rI/AAAAAAAAWr8/p6VyptXtwvg/s1600/DSC00554.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Zge-MK5Nn-g/VgsXS83X6rI/AAAAAAAAWr8/p6VyptXtwvg/s400/DSC00554.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look baby....a fish!</td></tr>
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As always, our days seem shorter than the amount of time needed for our explorations. It was getting late. So we left the locks, having wanted to explore the adjacent Seattle Botanic Gardens as well. That will have to wait for another visit. We headed back to the ferry terminal for our trip across the Sound to Poulsbo and family. A memorable day! Tomorrow we'd leave for our journey south along the beautiful coasts of Washington, Oregon and California. Check that out...in my next post. (Brooklyn, we miss you!)</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-in059bs1pFA/VgsaqIwEWlI/AAAAAAAAWs8/zMN-3s0uT50/s1600/DSC00590.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-in059bs1pFA/VgsaqIwEWlI/AAAAAAAAWs8/zMN-3s0uT50/s640/DSC00590.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heading back via ferry across Puget Sound.<br />
This is always a breathtaking sight: solitary Mt. Rainier with snow on top.<br />
A daytime moon is visible also. What a ferry ride this is!</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zzoaSbyAyEc/Vgsalc7csMI/AAAAAAAAWs0/np8vHl03Quo/s1600/DSC00582.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zzoaSbyAyEc/Vgsalc7csMI/AAAAAAAAWs0/np8vHl03Quo/s400/DSC00582.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A beautiful vista: Puget Sound, the island of Bainbridge and the Olympic<br />
Mountains greet your view as we return home from a day in Seattle.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Rq6arvWRnes/VgsdbA-IMwI/AAAAAAAAWtM/0d9WeGNwE7s/s1600/DSC00496.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Rq6arvWRnes/VgsdbA-IMwI/AAAAAAAAWtM/0d9WeGNwE7s/s640/DSC00496.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tomorrow - on the road again.<br />
Heading south along the west coast on the beautiful U.S. 101, aka<br />
The Pacific Coast Highway. See you on the road!</td></tr>
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Matthew Weinsteinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14951469890072862130noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5629966253623058254.post-48702212181096937252015-09-23T23:24:00.000-07:002015-09-25T07:48:36.881-07:00Good bye Idaho. Hello Hello, Walla Walla!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Wednesday, September 16, 2015</div>
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Another long day of driving - 391 miles from Hailey, Idaho to Walla Walla, Washington. We were heading to the west coast and family: Dani and Erik and the grandsons, Sammy and Ethan.<br />
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We started the day in Sun Valley, the upscale ski resort. People call it Sun Valley but the actual town is Ketchum, Idaho and it's a very pleasant and comfortable place, catering to wealthy people, we judged, observing the kind of stores and the type and prices of goods they were selling. Our hotel was in Hailey, some 17 miles south of Ketchum. We had no reason to see Ketchum except for the fact that we have friends and neighbors around the corner in Brooklyn: Robin and Peter Ketchum. We thought it would be cute if we could bring them something with their name on it. So instead of heading back south to US 20 we headed north. We'd have to double back south after our look around in town.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bOVOVj5RICA/VgOLPC9-A_I/AAAAAAAAWhQ/4sESgly5nrg/s1600/hailey%2Bidaho%2Bto%2Bwalla%2Bwalla%2Bwa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="256" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bOVOVj5RICA/VgOLPC9-A_I/AAAAAAAAWhQ/4sESgly5nrg/s400/hailey%2Bidaho%2Bto%2Bwalla%2Bwalla%2Bwa.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">CLICK FOR A LARGER VIEW<br />
Map of today's drive -291 miles from Hailey, Idaho to Walla Walla, Washington.</td></tr>
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We walked around the town a bit, popped in and out of some of the shops, had an espresso at a cafe, picked up some sandwiches for a picnic and then headed down to US 20 again to continue our westward journey. That road, which we'd been travelling on for the last few days, connected to Interstate 84 which trended northwest, clipping a triangle out of Northeastern Oregon and, much later that day, entered Washington where we stopped for the night in the city of Walla Walla.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0guvq9m-43U/VgOTI_0zQfI/AAAAAAAAWho/el2SIVPkjvQ/s1600/DSC09950.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="376" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0guvq9m-43U/VgOTI_0zQfI/AAAAAAAAWho/el2SIVPkjvQ/s640/DSC09950.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view that greeted us in the morning as we walked out of our motel<br />
in Hailey, Idaho which is situated in Sun Valley.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OH1XdJ5sojk/VgOUeE8aTnI/AAAAAAAAWh0/9r_DaF0sM40/s1600/DSC09978.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OH1XdJ5sojk/VgOUeE8aTnI/AAAAAAAAWh0/9r_DaF0sM40/s400/DSC09978.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Irving's hot dog stand in Ketchum, Idaho.<br />
(Sony Alpha illustration mode for a painterly effect).</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ha_4VjS40ls/VgOVFcXnukI/AAAAAAAAWiM/0LYSNF-d5l8/s1600/DSC09995.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="425" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ha_4VjS40ls/VgOVFcXnukI/AAAAAAAAWiM/0LYSNF-d5l8/s640/DSC09995.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No parking any time. (except for log deliveries).</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qhiftB95lSU/VgOVAO_EzFI/AAAAAAAAWh8/3cnH-1slTTc/s1600/DSC09990.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qhiftB95lSU/VgOVAO_EzFI/AAAAAAAAWh8/3cnH-1slTTc/s400/DSC09990.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stacey and Biggie at a cafe in Ketchum, Idaho,<br />
a sweet little ski town.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BHxuADQFQoE/VgOVBE2u4ZI/AAAAAAAAWiA/6XNyzs8BbgQ/s1600/DSC09997.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BHxuADQFQoE/VgOVBE2u4ZI/AAAAAAAAWiA/6XNyzs8BbgQ/s640/DSC09997.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ketchum is an upscale ski town with lovely and pricey shops. It's surrounded by the mountains that<br />
tower over Sun Valley.</td></tr>
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We didn't realize it earlier but we had been tracing the same westbound passage that Lewis and Clark had explored in the early part of the nineteenth century, under orders from President Jefferson to find a northwest passage to the Pacific that would increase commerce and settling: American expansionism. After their amazing and terribly difficult adventure, easier routes were discovered that made wagon traffic possible. These routes to the west became known as the Oregon Trail and as the years passed were used by as many as 400,000 settlers, ranchers, farmers and miners as they headed west looking for land, wealth and new lives on the frontier.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pa9nhUNs3Sk/VgOS7RX0pbI/AAAAAAAAWhk/M9-4ZiVOX7w/s1600/DSC00002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pa9nhUNs3Sk/VgOS7RX0pbI/AAAAAAAAWhk/M9-4ZiVOX7w/s400/DSC00002.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">High up in Idaho, a view across the valley that was used as a shortcut<br />
to avoid hostile indigenous tribes. Natives, rightly fearing for their homes and lands,<br />
were attacking invading settlers.along <span style="font-size: 12.8px;">the regular Oregon trail to the south. The</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12.8px;">shortcut came to knowsn as Goodale's Cutoff.</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-y-00BtlPp_8/VgOWU6XQY7I/AAAAAAAAWig/NP1YzM-LtdM/s1600/DSC00004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-y-00BtlPp_8/VgOWU6XQY7I/AAAAAAAAWig/NP1YzM-LtdM/s400/DSC00004.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sign confirms that we've been following the trails of early and mid-nineteenth<br />
century emigrants as they made their way across the land, heading west<br />
to seek fortune and land. This "cutoff" was a shortcut used to avoid<br />
indigenous warriors who attacked the invading settlers who would take<br />
their homes and lands.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PjawnLB1sy0/VgOWS2avJqI/AAAAAAAAWiY/cGefDyza6YM/s1600/DSC00007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="248" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PjawnLB1sy0/VgOWS2avJqI/AAAAAAAAWiY/cGefDyza6YM/s400/DSC00007.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We cut a snip out of the northeastern corner of Oregon and headed<br />
up to Walla Walla for a deserved rest after a day of driving 300 miles!</td></tr>
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It was too late (and we were too tired) to start looking for a place to eat. So we feasted on corn chip and almonds from our snack bag. When we woke after a good night's sleep at a Red Lyon motel, I discovered that one of the few late night haunts that were presented as dining choices was right across the street. Not only that, but were on the edge of the city's historic restoration district. So off we went for a little walk downtown. Walla Walla is the friendliest little city in America. So said USA Today. And it is <i>little </i>with a population of just over 31,000. It also won an award for having transformed and preserved its dilapidated Main Street into a lovely and thriving thoroughfare. With that we can agree. Lined with shops, winery outlets and restaurants, we found it very inviting. Residents are fond of saying they liked their city so much that its founders named it twice. But the name Walla Walla acdtually is an indigenous name meaning "many waters."<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4Sw6f36R3p0/VgTea55oUjI/AAAAAAAAWjM/y19c2y-rXVY/s1600/DSC00039.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="332" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4Sw6f36R3p0/VgTea55oUjI/AAAAAAAAWjM/y19c2y-rXVY/s400/DSC00039.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I tied Biggie to this street sculpture so I could take his picture.<br />
But before that he had been barking at it. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FldJopWJiRc/VgTfMqywmGI/AAAAAAAAWjc/MSFAIDhyQXM/s1600/DSC00049.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FldJopWJiRc/VgTfMqywmGI/AAAAAAAAWjc/MSFAIDhyQXM/s400/DSC00049.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wineries have set up shops on Main Street in Walla Walla.<br />
This is, after all, Washington's wine country - the Columbia<br />
River valley.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gx5W12_pXGI/VgTfJjuCZdI/AAAAAAAAWjU/c8Sr9RYsCTg/s1600/DSC00059.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="361" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gx5W12_pXGI/VgTfJjuCZdI/AAAAAAAAWjU/c8Sr9RYsCTg/s400/DSC00059.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lovely preserved old buildings line the city's restored historic district.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EmAUPug3iEI/VgTlRpe26yI/AAAAAAAAWj8/ISSQmUwBIQU/s1600/DSC00064.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EmAUPug3iEI/VgTlRpe26yI/AAAAAAAAWj8/ISSQmUwBIQU/s640/DSC00064.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A beautiful old theater. Now, unbelievably, it's a Macy's department store.<br />
But at least the exterior has been preserved. Spectacular.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wgpF4Qkitoc/VgTm9bHOhuI/AAAAAAAAWkI/fi0Oy9Ecg_U/s1600/DSC00067.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wgpF4Qkitoc/VgTm9bHOhuI/AAAAAAAAWkI/fi0Oy9Ecg_U/s400/DSC00067.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Detail on the America Theater in Walla Walla.</td></tr>
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We left Walla Walla and continued toward Poulsbo and the family. This southeast section of Washington was desert until we crossed the Columbia River and crossed into Washington's beautiful and fertile wine country.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1W2NDvRq9Zk/VgTnOY4tJXI/AAAAAAAAWkY/EHCboKNXO3c/s1600/DSC00073.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1W2NDvRq9Zk/VgTnOY4tJXI/AAAAAAAAWkY/EHCboKNXO3c/s640/DSC00073.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Again, thousands of wind turbines outside of Walla Walla on the arrid hills of eastern Washington's high desert.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Aw45WVssPWg/VgTnNmwZRgI/AAAAAAAAWkQ/U2S5-1qE_Bc/s1600/DSC00076.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Aw45WVssPWg/VgTnNmwZRgI/AAAAAAAAWkQ/U2S5-1qE_Bc/s400/DSC00076.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wine country? Well, then you gotta try some of our wine, right?<br />
We stopped at the Fourteen Hands winery. They sell 3 million cases a year! <br />
We bought 3 bottles.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nEE1ftyzqZw/VgTpgH1_ZrI/AAAAAAAAWkk/cqMAAsXGC4Y/s1600/DSC00079.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nEE1ftyzqZw/VgTpgH1_ZrI/AAAAAAAAWkk/cqMAAsXGC4Y/s640/DSC00079.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Biggie doesn't drink wine but he was welcome at Fourteen Hands winery anyway.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FBHrRBW5UUU/VgTpivgIZtI/AAAAAAAAWk0/D3ekBwbHEhY/s1600/DSC00084.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FBHrRBW5UUU/VgTpivgIZtI/AAAAAAAAWk0/D3ekBwbHEhY/s400/DSC00084.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At the tasting room picking our selections to sample.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LN8QFv3zfyI/VgTp-Xlh1xI/AAAAAAAAWk8/f_MPDoY6Crk/s1600/DSC00088.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LN8QFv3zfyI/VgTp-Xlh1xI/AAAAAAAAWk8/f_MPDoY6Crk/s400/DSC00088.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He's a good dog and well-behaved. Why we love him so much.</td></tr>
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Just a few hours more and we arrived in Poulsbo where we were greeted by Dani, Erik and our two grandsons, Sammy and Ethan. We'd spend five days and then head on down the coast to our friends in the wine country of California, Ann and Alex. Oh....more wine! Yes! But that story is yet to be written. - Matt</div>
Matthew Weinsteinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14951469890072862130noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5629966253623058254.post-45495853729282289372015-09-20T23:05:00.001-07:002015-10-26T05:31:18.375-07:00I Didn't Know ... Idaho.<h4 style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="88" msallowfullscreen="" src="https://app.box.com/embed/preview/57afh3m5du2yc0pvo7yxlbnw9y1pe9v5?view=&sort=&direction=ASC&theme=dark" style="font-weight: normal;" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="330"></iframe><br />
<i style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">As you read this post, you might want to listed to</span></i></div>
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<i style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Peter Seeger sing Woody's ballad: This Land Is Your Land.</span></i><br />
<i style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></i>
<span style="font-weight: normal;">Monday, September 14, 2015</span><br />
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-weight: normal;">We left Yellowstone National Park, regretfully, and headed south on lonely U.S. 20. The road ran through a wilderness area marked by a large lake: Henry's Lake and its effluence: Henry's Fork, known as one of the West's outstanding fly fishing rivers. The blue line on the map below shows our route for the day, a total of 244 miles. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UAqWTTJR2ww/VgCiVN-3GxI/AAAAAAAAWb4/1b6KMxJx4LE/s1600/temp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="205" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UAqWTTJR2ww/VgCiVN-3GxI/AAAAAAAAWb4/1b6KMxJx4LE/s400/temp.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">CLICK TO SEE LARGER<br />
Our route today, 244 miles, from West Yellowstone, Montana<br />
to Hailey Idaho in Sun Valley.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uHq5lfknNaE/VgDSf-e815I/AAAAAAAAWeM/dPlgWWqkHlE/s1600/DSC09777.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uHq5lfknNaE/VgDSf-e815I/AAAAAAAAWeM/dPlgWWqkHlE/s640/DSC09777.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is fly-fishing country. The fisherman here are trekking out to the river for a day of tricking<br />
the trout to bite at their prize lures.</td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NdhOtVf67K0/Vf-apPElS0I/AAAAAAAAWX0/Wog-5eax-y4/s1600/DSC09779.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NdhOtVf67K0/Vf-apPElS0I/AAAAAAAAWX0/Wog-5eax-y4/s400/DSC09779.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Henry's Fork flows out of Henry's Lake.<br />
The area is a beautiful <span style="font-size: 12.8px;">and wild sportsperson's paradise.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-t6ZoaBILyn8/Vf-ant6hxrI/AAAAAAAAWXo/1wFe5DmsjFg/s1600/DSC09783.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-t6ZoaBILyn8/Vf-ant6hxrI/AAAAAAAAWXo/1wFe5DmsjFg/s400/DSC09783.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Beautiful Henry's Fork.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3c-GFH1E8tg/Vf-ii4mGStI/AAAAAAAAWZA/-0W8q553_sE/s1600/DSC09784.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3c-GFH1E8tg/Vf-ii4mGStI/AAAAAAAAWZA/-0W8q553_sE/s640/DSC09784.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">Wild and wonderful Idaho.</span></td></tr>
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We drove on until we reached the city of Idaho Falls. We've learned to get off the interstate (or in this case, the main highway) if you really want to see the country and not the homogenized vision of America that is repeated ad nausem at virtually every interstate exit: fast food chains serving up crappy junk food, mega truck stops and gas stations. There really is life beyond the interstate and its exits, though much of it has disappeared thanks to the inability to compete with the giant chains. Their off-the-beaten-path locations didn't help matters either as drivers stuck to the new Interstates. Yet life and interesting history remain and, now that people are realizing the value of cities, more life and vitality are returning. And many travelers now want to see more and have become more adventurous. It can be very rewarding, interesting and exciting. It pays to explore and not stick to your straight ahead road. And let me tell you -- it's really straight ahead out here!<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">That's why we stopped to explore <a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Idaho+Falls,+ID/@43.4708788,-111.9784774,10.47z/data=!4m2!3m1!1s0x5354594e739512b5:0x2311c9fc094c49c9" target="_blank">Idaho Falls </a>on the Snake River. That waterway gives the city the 'falls' in its name and a large percentage of its electricity as well., the churning motion of its water driving the generators to produce hydroelectric power. This city has done a nice job in restoring its historic section which has a plethora of lovely old art </span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> deco buildings.</span><br />
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<tr><td><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xEfFquZNrDQ/Vf-atMlku0I/AAAAAAAAWYE/atSRjs_TxPQ/s1600/DSC09786.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="385" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xEfFquZNrDQ/Vf-atMlku0I/AAAAAAAAWYE/atSRjs_TxPQ/s640/DSC09786.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">The Snake Bite restaurant in a restored art deco building on Park Avenue,<br />
It featured modern American food in a very cool setting <span style="font-size: 12.8px;">and we loved it!</span></td></tr>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cfEvuOoByKQ/VgCZQQfZYkI/AAAAAAAAWao/MfaCMnsQRTc/s1600/DSC09789.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cfEvuOoByKQ/VgCZQQfZYkI/AAAAAAAAWao/MfaCMnsQRTc/s400/DSC09789.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Park Avenue is lined with shops, cafes and restaurants in<br />
Idaho Falls' restored historic district.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WoEl78IDMy4/VgCZ5cO3ofI/AAAAAAAAWaw/tV_-Kmx5qvM/s1600/DSC09793.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WoEl78IDMy4/VgCZ5cO3ofI/AAAAAAAAWaw/tV_-Kmx5qvM/s400/DSC09793.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Out for lunch at the Snake Bite.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SLX2f5Um3K0/VgCaPSZl5aI/AAAAAAAAWa4/uc_74BhJnLM/s1600/DSC09794.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="315" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SLX2f5Um3K0/VgCaPSZl5aI/AAAAAAAAWa4/uc_74BhJnLM/s400/DSC09794.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Modern fare at Idaho Falls' Snake Bite restaurant.<br />
And , oh! I'm balancing a coffee cup on my head!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oCVjrWw3hu0/VgCaPqwwpsI/AAAAAAAAWa8/TFHfbAJb8dc/s1600/DSC09799.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oCVjrWw3hu0/VgCaPqwwpsI/AAAAAAAAWa8/TFHfbAJb8dc/s400/DSC09799.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stacey's enjoying a burger.<br />
I, a salmon burger.</td></tr>
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After lunch we crossed the Snake River which runs through town and took a stroll in the park alongside the falls that gives the town half its name.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TRJknVX6DPc/VgCdepUuEgI/AAAAAAAAWbc/a63mHPrXZ8I/s1600/DSC09803.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TRJknVX6DPc/VgCdepUuEgI/AAAAAAAAWbc/a63mHPrXZ8I/s400/DSC09803.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Unique bench In a park alongside the falls of the Snake River.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NJYEPCTSMFk/VgCdcBTx_KI/AAAAAAAAWbQ/SJ8i8AKcRwA/s1600/DSC09804.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NJYEPCTSMFk/VgCdcBTx_KI/AAAAAAAAWbQ/SJ8i8AKcRwA/s400/DSC09804.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These Chinese tourists had to get a shot with Biggie.<br />
As you can see, Biggie was not as anxious to be in the photo.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sL9yVGG3Ti4/VgCdcMgDcuI/AAAAAAAAWbM/Q-lZ0YgijWQ/s1600/DSC09807.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sL9yVGG3Ti4/VgCdcMgDcuI/AAAAAAAAWbM/Q-lZ0YgijWQ/s640/DSC09807.jpg" width="425" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Did you know? When the German Nazi troops were defeated<br />
in Northern Africa some 275,000 prisoners-of-war were<br />
captured. Fifteen thousand were taken to Idaho to live on<br />
prison camps and work in local agriculture.<br />
After they war, some remained and became U.S. citizens.<br />
The rest were repatriated.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1V626TyTq1U/VgCdkDEMKII/AAAAAAAAWbs/WGT-3tN0BGE/s1600/DSC09808.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1V626TyTq1U/VgCdkDEMKII/AAAAAAAAWbs/WGT-3tN0BGE/s400/DSC09808.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A moose planter/sculpture in the park at the falls.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kYFenzJpP6g/VgCdiROSFkI/AAAAAAAAWbk/tDB3nX6r-VA/s1600/DSC09810.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="332" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kYFenzJpP6g/VgCdiROSFkI/AAAAAAAAWbk/tDB3nX6r-VA/s640/DSC09810.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Food trucks are increasingly popular in cities across the country.</td></tr>
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Idaho Falls was a nice way point but it was time to move on. US 20 turns west after and goes straight across the rest of the state. The landscape, like so many places on our trip, is marked with vast, wide-open spaces , prairie, that extends to the horizon where we saw huge mountains looming. But there in front of us were some buttes that stood, large and isolated. They looked like volcanoes and soon a rest stop with signs informed us that they were. They were called the Three Buttes and they were spaced some miles apart. The first one was East Butte and was the most prominent. It was an unusual sight because it was not part of any mountain range. It just rose, solitary, from the surrounding flat grassland.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">CLICK TO SEE LARGER<br />
Sign explaining the mysterious buttes that interrupted the flat, wide open<br />
spaces that marked Idaho's landscape to the west of Idaho Falls.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-esCEUIVeVGI/VgCmL-54i-I/AAAAAAAAWcE/aQMllbB66CU/s1600/DSC09816.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-esCEUIVeVGI/VgCmL-54i-I/AAAAAAAAWcE/aQMllbB66CU/s640/DSC09816.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We had been watching this mountain for quite a while, wondering what it was and why it was standing<br />
all alone out on the prairie. This, we found out, was East Butte one of three extinct volcanoes in the region.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Idaho - wide open vistas. Awesome beauty!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is East Butte. The nearby town is called Butte City!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Other than the Three Buttes, this part of Iowa was open prairie that<br />
stretched out to the horizon where giant mountains awaited us.</td></tr>
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As we drove along, other historic signs indicated that this was home to one of the largest nuclear testing and development facilities in the world., the <b><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Idaho_National_Laboratory" target="_blank">Idaho National Laboratory</a>, s</b>pread over 900 square miles! Over 50 reactors had been built here and it was also used for large scale munitions testing in addition to being home to the Nuclear Navy - reactors for their subs were developed, tested and personnel trained in this landlocked state. The nearby town of Arco boasted that it was the first city in the world to be powered by nuclear energy. Too bad, thinking to myself that wasn't something to really boast about. I wondered if there had been any adverse health effect since this was early on in the development of nuclear power which, even today, poses a serious hreat to the environment and health and safety of residents because of the inability to dispose of nuclear waste with any assurance that it won't come back to haunt us in years to come. Oh yes, and then there's the unseen risks, like tsunamis for example! I'm thinking Fukushima.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oAMZHRjMn10/VgCrMmQLd-I/AAAAAAAAWc0/8SUAO3LfpD4/s1600/DSC09840.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="280" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oAMZHRjMn10/VgCrMmQLd-I/AAAAAAAAWc0/8SUAO3LfpD4/s400/DSC09840.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Arco, Idaho, where perhaps people glow in the dark.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">US 40 westbound, a highway less traveled. There are only 1.6 million<br />
people in the entire state of Idaho. </td></tr>
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As we traveled along there was more evidence of Idaho's early seismic and volcanic past. More and more black soil and rocks studded the yellow grasslands. We came upon a sign that said<br />
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"Just Up The Road -- a weird and scenic landscape peculiar to itself."</blockquote>
That was an understatement. This was like no other place we've ever seen and was dubbed <i>Craters Of The Moon National Monument and Prseserve.</i> The sign went on to tell us that<br />
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"volcanic eruptions ranging from gentle to explosive created the landscape before you. Deep cracks in the earth allowed lava to blast, pop and flow above and below the surface to create cinder cones, splatter cones and lava tube caves."</blockquote>
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A seven mile National Park Service loop allowed us to drive through parts of this unique area where we learned that some of the eruptions were only 2,000 years old. I suppose that's why the results are still so visible today.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Like Yellowstone, this was another phantasmagorical place - <br />
a vast area filled with black boulders, cones, hills and lava rock, <br />
that was expelled as molten lava and then cooled as it flowed <br />
over the landscape.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OdzQKNInMrw/VgCurKeMgoI/AAAAAAAAWdU/seD-vKxNM_Q/s1600/DSC09862.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OdzQKNInMrw/VgCurKeMgoI/AAAAAAAAWdU/seD-vKxNM_Q/s640/DSC09862.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Black lava rock as far as the arth can see. Other wordly.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wow!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Phantasmagorical. This lava flow was only about 2,000 years ago...a blip in time, and probably<br />
why this landscape is so visible and prominent today.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qmvKLDSb2a4/VgCuySXp7jI/AAAAAAAAWdk/EBjqoAa6ivk/s1600/DSC09897.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qmvKLDSb2a4/VgCuySXp7jI/AAAAAAAAWdk/EBjqoAa6ivk/s640/DSC09897.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tiny white flowers eke out an existence in this hostile environment.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H-3Y3HGEQww/VgCu1H_56wI/AAAAAAAAWd4/WGCkp0Jcrlo/s1600/DSC09904.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H-3Y3HGEQww/VgCu1H_56wI/AAAAAAAAWd4/WGCkp0Jcrlo/s640/DSC09904.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">White flowers bloom in a bed of lava rock. <br />
Temperatures can reach 120 degrees in heat of this desert's day and<br />
then plunge to well below freezing at night. The plants adapt. <span style="text-align: left;"> </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-47DSbCQcIP0/VgCu1DM5YMI/AAAAAAAAWds/1L-QeZcv89g/s1600/DSC09922.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-47DSbCQcIP0/VgCu1DM5YMI/AAAAAAAAWds/1L-QeZcv89g/s640/DSC09922.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Miles and miles of black lava rock. Another planet?<br />
No, it's Idaho's high desert.</td></tr>
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It was late and we had miles to go to our stopover in Hailey, Idaho. We departed US Route 20 and turned north, heading up into Sun Valley, the well known ski resort in Idaho's Sawtooth mountains. We took the detour, not out of any desire to go north but because that's where the hotels and restaurants were. We'd head back to the highway tomorrow on our way to Washington. But we weren't sorry - these were pretty towns, nestled in the mountains and with nice accommodations to cater to the jet set that frequents these resorts.<br />
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Tomorrow, we're off to Walla Walla. Hubba hubba. And Ciao ciao!</div>
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Matthew Weinsteinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14951469890072862130noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5629966253623058254.post-15252280837599716372015-09-19T23:50:00.001-07:002015-09-20T08:34:25.536-07:00Now For Yellowstone!Sunday, September 20, 2015<br />
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As you probably all realize by now, these posts are written several days later as time and energy permits. Yesterday I related the perilous event that unfolded with Biggie on our second night in West Yellowstone. Today I'll share the experiences of exploring this incredible park that was given to the people of our county and whose beauty and wilderness is preserved for all time by dint of that public ownership. It was never a given that a place as grand and awesomely beautiful as Yellowstone, or any of the other national parks, would or could be preserved. Huge battles were fought by a handful of men and women who realized toward the end of the 19th century, that the unrelenting expansion and desire to conquer the wilderness had come at a terrible cost - the destruction of vast forests accompanied by the demise of entire species of animals. This took place side by side with the expulsion and wholesale slaughter of the native population as settlers moved to take over their lands, their homes.<br />
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John Muir, the naturalist and a founder of the Sierra Club, stated his concern when he said the<br />
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"great wilds of our country, once held to be boundless and inexhaustible, are being rapidly invaded and overrun…and everything destructible in them is being destroyed."</blockquote>
And so the battle lines were drawn. Were it not for the foresight and determination of a handful of enlightened citizens we might never have been able to enjoy the wonders of these wild places today.<br />
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We wished we could have spent a week or two exploring this vast park. Two days is enough to sample just a tiny few of its points of interest, let alone explore its wilder parts.<br />
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On Sunday, September 13th, after breakfasting at our hotel and exploring the little town of West Yellowstone, we started into the park. It's not inexpensive to visit the national parks. Entry fees are $30 per car. Here's a tip: senior citizens can purchase a <i>lifetime </i>pass that allows free entrance to any of the national parks, forests and wilderness areas. Cost? Ten dollars!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Love the western motel signs in towns across the region.</td></tr>
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Welcome, dude!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The town is in Montana, but a mile or so inside the park and you're in Wyoming.</td></tr>
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Entering the park at its western gate, you are transported into a geological time warp. Steep canyons tower over you on either side of the road. Raging rivers and streams pour down from the mountains, cutting their way through rocky passes. Thousands of trees are strewn on the sides of the sheer cliffs, victims of what seems like an endless procession of rock slides. Then the vista suddenly opens into broad meadows with views of towering mountains in the distance and bison and elk roaming and grazing on grassy plains. A bit further and steam, gas and water are belching out of the earth - sulfurous pools of water leach the surrounding landscape and turn it a ghastly array of colors while killing any vegetation in the surrounding area. Trees are bare, their bases bleached white by the acidity of the effluence expelled by these geyers. It's an amazing sight and you wonder - why here? Why not outside the park just a few miles away? Yellowstone is described as a geological "hot spot" where evidence of earlier volcanic activity is still present. Here the earth's crust, I suppose, is thinner, giving the churning gases of our planet's interior access to the surface.<br />
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We entered the park and drove east about 11 miles to Madison Junction. Alongside us was a wide stream, the Madison River. At the junction, we turned south on the Grand Loop Road, heading toward Old Faithful. We took a short detour on Firehole Canyon Road. Now the raging Firehole River was our companion, It was roaring through Firehole Canyon which it had cut through over the millenia. Rockslides were evident just about everywhere, the result of the sheer cliffs that towered over the river below.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Firehole River cuts through the canyon of the same name.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Steep cliffs precipitate rockslides.<br />
Trees are knocked down like toothpicks.</td></tr>
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When we emerged from the short detour we were greeted by quite a surprise: a bumper-to-bumper traffic jam! We knew that Yellowstone is famous for these due to the huge crowds it attracts. Part of the balancing act that the National Park Service has to do is to provide access but also to preserve the wilderness - a difficult, maybe impossible, task it seems. This was post Labor Day but the crowds keep on coming and the traffic jams still impede your way forward.<br />
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Driving along, we finally got to see the reason for our delay: herds of buffalo, some on the road, others in an adjacent meadow. People left their cars to photograph the creatures who lethargically grazed or layed about totally ignoring the human hordes admiring them.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What is Biggie gawking at? A herd of bison in the meadow adjacent<br />
to the road. Heavy winds are pushing his fur straight back!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bison grazing on the grasslands of Yellowstone National Park.</td></tr>
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After an hour of impatiently waiting in this delay, we took another loop road and reversed direction, heading back to town. That loop allowed us a close up view of some of Yellowstone's geysers and pools.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TlbtecEFum0/Vf5hJ5ZDurI/AAAAAAAAWSQ/1NqXsirCDwo/s1600/DSC09579.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="272" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TlbtecEFum0/Vf5hJ5ZDurI/AAAAAAAAWSQ/1NqXsirCDwo/s400/DSC09579.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">Trees are dead and the bottom of their trunks bleached white from the acidity of the runoff.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A forest fire was raging in the northern part of the park, visible from many <span style="font-size: 12.8px;">other areas of the park. </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">Climate change has charred the West this summer </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">as thousands of these fires have burned up </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">millions of acres of bone dry, drought-stricken forests.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><br />
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QnY8Hu6EDoA/Vf5hOs-PzwI/AAAAAAAAWSg/Bmp5fNCXnFs/s1600/DSC09587.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QnY8Hu6EDoA/Vf5hOs-PzwI/AAAAAAAAWSg/Bmp5fNCXnFs/s400/DSC09587.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">The geysers and hot pools stain the surrounding area with ghastly colors, leaving salt deposits behind.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bubble, bubble. Toil and trouble. This is a fountain geiser that erupts every few hours.<br />
The rest of the time it bubbles and burps. A sulphuric smoke is emitted. Other worldly.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ouLkJLdnoMI/Vf5hhLhQt5I/AAAAAAAAWTA/7aDGTsOpKG4/s1600/DSC09657.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ouLkJLdnoMI/Vf5hhLhQt5I/AAAAAAAAWTA/7aDGTsOpKG4/s400/DSC09657.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">The National Park Service has done an ourstanding job with these boardwalks that provide close up access.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">A sign warning visitors that drones are banned from the park.<br />
Would that they would be banned as a weapon of war being<br />
that they have killed so many innocents in areas where our wars are waged.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-evOyvZEHp6E/Vf5hpwYEBKI/AAAAAAAAWTY/7CcuvwKH3M8/s1600/DSC09689.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="409" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-evOyvZEHp6E/Vf5hpwYEBKI/AAAAAAAAWTY/7CcuvwKH3M8/s640/DSC09689.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Smoke rising from hot springs.</td></tr>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9CU6mwob7Fs/Vf5hxe7GXMI/AAAAAAAAWT0/j0XiqGG1zck/s1600/DSC09714.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9CU6mwob7Fs/Vf5hxe7GXMI/AAAAAAAAWT0/j0XiqGG1zck/s400/DSC09714.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stacey views a bubbling pool from the vantage of a National Park Service boardwalk.</td></tr>
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On our way back to the hotel, this critter was taking a break on the side of the road. Though they look lethargic and peaceful, they are quite dangerous and visitors are warned to keep their distance. A bison can spring to its feet in a split second and charge at up to 30 miles per hour. It is not uncommon that people are injured and occasionally killed by bison in the park.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Taking a break from his grazing.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A minute later, his nap over, the bison rose to his feet. Evolution has provided<br />
a large hump to house powerful muscles. During harsh winters the bison<br />
will use his massive head, moving it side to side to push deep snow aside so it can reach grass and plants<br />
buried deep below.</td></tr>
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Given the slow going due to Yellowstone's traffic jams, we would try again, later that evening, to reach Old Faithful, starting out at 6:00 pm. We were right - it was a breeze. But we had no luck in seeing the famous geyser actually perform. Our timing was off and it wouldn't gush forth again until close to 9:00. We did, however get to visit the historic Old Faithful Inn, one of those early 20th century grand wood hotels. Beautifully preserved, it was an anachronism in this day of modern, upscale hotels.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">CLICK TO SEE ANY PHOTO LARGER<br />
An amazing and grand old lodge - Old Faithful Inn. This is the lobby<br />
Rustic and woody, staircases ascend to multiple levels.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stacey admires the lobby of the Old Faithful Inn.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Something to gawk at for sure!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Old Faithful is right outside the inn's door. We didn't get to see it gush.<br />
Our timing was off and , you know, it doesn't just spout on command.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A beautiful old inn with eccentric architecture I thought.'<br />
Guests can ascend to the viewing platform on the roof fo a better view of Old Faithful.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We left the inn as the sun was setting. A lone bison grazed in the meadow just outside the hotel.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yellowstone sunset. </td></tr>
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It was the end of a beautiful day as we headed bsack to town and our hotel. Little did we know what was in store for us. This would be the night of Little Biggie's seizures and our late night trek on mountain roads to the emergency clinic in Bozeman, Montana, some 93 miles away.<br />
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Tomorrow, returning from our overnight stay in Bozeman, we would hang out at the hotel, giving Biggie and us a day of rest and relaxation. On Tuesday, we'd start off for Washington, travelling through the width of Idaho - another amazing place to see and wonder in these United States.<br />
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See you there! - MattMatthew Weinsteinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14951469890072862130noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5629966253623058254.post-15872162906375337382015-09-19T12:42:00.004-07:002015-11-04T08:56:05.615-08:00Oh Yellowstone! But First, An Emergency For Biggie.<div>
Saturday, September 19, 2015</div>
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We arrived in the town of West Yellowstone on Saturday, September 12th at what would be our base "camp" used to explore Yellowstone National Park for the next two days. But two nights stretched into three and not because we voluntarily wanted to extend our stay. Of course, Yellowstone requires two weeks, not two days to get to know it. We'd love to return some day and using tent or trailer to camp, hike or explore it in depth. Regarding hiking though, dogs are <i>not</i> permitted on any trail and not even on the ubiquitous boardwalks that the park service has installed at various interest points throughout the park. The reasons for the pet exclusion were clearly stated even though it crimped our activity. They made sense: </div>
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<li>Other visitors may not appreciate the presence of your pet.</li>
<li>Your dog may get away from you and cannot survive the wilderness.</li>
<li>Your dog might attract a bear (a real danger out here) and lead him back to you - what a thought!</li>
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The danger of bear confrontations is stressed throughout the park. How to behave?</div>
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<li>If you're confronted, never run. </li>
<li><i>Do</i> make noise as you walk the back country. </li>
<li>Don't hike with fewer than three people. </li>
<li>Carry bear spray which has proved to be effective in thwarting an aggressive bear. </li>
<li>Don't leave food around - stash it in bear proof containers far from your campsite and never in your tent, car, etc. </li>
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Many bears in the park are not reclusive as they are in the wilderness. They've become used to people and are attracted by their food. They are not "cute" and should never be approached at any time as they can charge you and are extremely fast and sometimes aggressive. There have been numerous incidents over the years and at least one person a year is killed by a bear in Yellowstone. Nuff said for us.</div>
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Back to Biggie's saga: Why did we extend our visit for an extra night (three instead of two)? Our hotel was expensive at $250.00 a night in West Yellowstone. Even after Labor Day, the hotels were full - we wanted to stay inside the park, treating ourselves for a couple of nights at the grand old Yellowstone Inn. That was not to be. One must book a year in advance to cop a room there. So we stayed outside in the town that serves as Yellowstone's western entrance. But it's a small town and rooms are always at a premium; thus, a lowly 2-star hotel room, even after the summer, is quite expensive, well beyond its actual value.</div>
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<b>Biggie gets seizures.</b> His condition has been diagnosed as <i>idiopathic epilepsy.</i> Idiopathic means no known or observable source: no liver problems or adverse sugar levels. No brain tumor or fluid on the brain. Just brain dysfunction where the neurons misfire and cause seizures; i.e. uncontrollable spasms and, often, lack of consciousness: his eyes bulge or glaze over, he stares off into space, he falls over on his side and his rear legs convulse, contracting and extending stiffly, suddenly and uncontrollably. It's a distressing, pitiful and heartbreaking thing to watch. This condition started when he was young. At first we thought he had injured himself, falling suddenly in the park and lying almost motionless. Maybe, we thought, he strained a muscle, running so energetically after his ball. He would come out of it after a minute or so, regaining his normal activity. And these episodes were infrequent, coming perhaps once every six or eight months, if that much. But, as he got older (he's now three), they've become more frequent and more evident that these were seizures not some muscle strain. And they became more severe: the last one, not long before we left on this trip, was a <i>grand mal</i> seizure, continuing for much longer than the three minutes that veterinarians consider the maximum time that when seizure crosses the border into a life-threatening situation and where emergency care is necessary. We did exactly that in Brooklyn, rushing him after 20 minutes to an all-night emergency pet clinic nearby. They watched him, inserted a catheter into his right paw, just in case he needed meds to stop any further seizing (he had come out of it by the time we got there). And they prescribed anti-seizure medication, something that he will probably have to be on for the rest of his life. It took the poor little dog a good 30-hours to come back to normal that time. He was extremely lethargic and loopy and could hardly walk straight for a day afterwards. This was not our Biggie! That aftermath, dubbed post-ictal by the doctors, is the result of the brain "frying" that the seizure produces. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YNclLwTId2k/Vf23GdXOv9I/AAAAAAAAWPw/bK6Ug-MIJDk/s1600/sm-09561.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YNclLwTId2k/Vf23GdXOv9I/AAAAAAAAWPw/bK6Ug-MIJDk/s400/sm-09561.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Little Biggie, hair blown back by serious winds, is gawking at bison on<br />
the range in Yellowstone National Park. This was taken <i>after</i> his bout of<br />
seizures that caused us to extend our stay in West Yellowstone.</td></tr>
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Don't think we didn't worry that he would have another serious event on the road and, perhaps, far from medical assistance. And of course, that's precisely what came to be. We had been, on the advice of our vet, weening him off the anti-seizure medicine because the downside of its anti-seizure benefit is their serious side effects of harm to the liver (like many meds). On second thought, it would have been wiser to wait until our return to New York before we proceeded in that direction. So by the time we reached Yellowstone, the weening, which must be done slowly over time, had proceeded to a low level. Sure enough, the second night of our stay in West Yellowstone, the little boy, exhausted and stressed I think, from long days of driving, went into seizure. They came one after another. This is called <i>cluster seizures</i> or <i>rolling seizures</i>. And though each was short lasting and he never went catatonic as he did last month in Brooklyn, rolling seizures are also considered life-threatening if they continue unabated. </div>
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What to do? The town has no services - it's mostly a base for the park with hotels and restaurants and nothing much else. Just that day at a lunch place I struck up a conversation with an older waitperson who lived in town. "Where do you shop?" I asked her out of curiosity. "In <a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Bozeman,+Mt/@45.6795065,-111.0509019,13z/data=!3m1!4b1!4m2!3m1!1s0x5345444c4fba8813:0x63f5d064f73b60aa" target="_blank">Bozeman</a>, It's the nearest big town" she replied. But that's 90 miles away I thought. "That's where I have to go for medical services also 'cause there's nothing here," she complained. Of course, the same applied for intensive or emergency pet care. </div>
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The seizures started at 9:30 Sunday night. I called a local vet and reached a voice message that gave a number to call for emergencies. Sure enough, it was also in Bozeman. I called and the person I spoke to was calm and laid out our choices. We should probably bring him in if the seizures were to continue because rolling seizures, even if mild, could sometimes develop into a <i>grand mal</i> seizure which could be so severe that Biggie's life could be in jeopardy if not treated. On the other hand, the drive from West Yellowstone to Bozeman, is a difficult one, particularly at night. It winds through the Gallatin mountains and steep canyons, twisting and turning and there's the added danger, we were told, of large numbers of elk crossing the road - something to be on constant guard while driving. </div>
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We decided to watch our little boy to see if the seizures were over and not have to make that dangerous drive. No such luck. One more struck and we gathered our stuff and started out on the trek to Bozeman at eleven in the middle of the night over that treacherous mountain route. We reached the clinic at half past midnight. Biggie had seizures number five and six in the car, huddled in Stacey's lap as I drove carefully but as fast as I prudently could to get him to emergency care, hoping that all would be alright. </div>
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By the time we reached the clinic, Biggie's seizures were over and he was returning to normal activity. Another couple was sitting in the emergency room. Their cat had been attacked by a neighbor's dog and suffered some serious puncture wounds to a paw. Biggie was the star of the clinic, winning the hearts of staff and customers alike. That's expected given his out sized personality that just oozes cuteness in a little fluffy package. We discussed the strategy with the vet and were told to up the meds back to their previous level and to leave the weening until we return to New York where he could be more carefully observed and managed by our nearby vet. </div>
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We spent the night at a motel next door - the second time this trip that we paid for two hotels in one night! But Biggie was fine and we found ourselves cuddling and loving him more than ever, worrying over his health. This is what our pets do to us as all pet lovers know so well. I'm writing this several days later - he's been perfectly fine ever since. But the threat of seizures still hangs over him and over us. </div>
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We returned to our West Yellowstone hotel the next morning and decided to stay another night to give us all a chance to rest and enjoy the park a little bit more.</div>
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In my next post I'll actually write about the park itself. This one was devoted to our little boy that we love and adore so much.</div>
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- Matt</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Little Biggie and Little Woman, enjoying the sights of Yellowstone <br />
and watching the bison in the meadow as they grazed and rolled about in the dust.</td></tr>
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Matthew Weinsteinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14951469890072862130noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5629966253623058254.post-49908386055361948962015-09-15T22:48:00.001-07:002015-10-26T05:07:27.083-07:00We Love You Rocky ... Mountains, That Is!Sep 15, 2015<br />
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We had broken up the long slog from St. Louis to Colorado and the Rockies into two days and even then the driving was an all-day affair. There's a reason they call this the <i>wide open spaces</i>. Driving distances between points here are just longer because there's so much space in between. There's just no getting away from that. Google Maps told us that it's a fourteen hour ride between St. Louis and Loveland but the way we drive, I figured that meant more like 20 hours. Therefore, the stop in Ellis, Kansas (about 2/3's across that state) and then the next day up to Loveland, Colorado, a bit outside the eastern entrance to Rocky Mountain National Park.<br />
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We preferred Estes Park to Loveland but there were no affordable rooms to be had in that little resort town which was directly outside the eastern gate of Rocky Mountain National Park. As a result we were a little bit further away from the park entrance to the east in Loveland.<br />
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We had one of those memorable experiences that one enjoys so much when you think back on what makes a trip special. As we approached Denver, we stopped for gas in Watkins, a speck of a place that was more like a crossroads than a town. We were at the Tomahawk Auto And Truck Plaza, a rundown gas station with an attached Mexican take out joint and not much else. As I'm filling up I struck up a conversation with a local man who was filling his car. I tell him where we're headed and he gives me his advice. It was five o'clock and he tells me it will be a very unpleasant, not to mention long, ride getting around Denver to head up north to Loveland. Why don't I try his shortcut on some back roads.<br />
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"I work at the airport so I know these roads. You'll be stuck in rush hour traffic otherwise. Trust me." OK, I had no problem with that. I bring him my map but it's not detailed enough. Then another guy comes over with a Colorado atlas which has very detailed maps. "Here, try this one," he says. I didn't even realize he was listening but he was. So now the orginal guy and I go over the maps. The map lender is standing by waiting patiently for us to finish so he can have his maps back.<br />
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"Make a right at that road at the corner," he says pointing to a dusty crossroads a little bit away, "and then when you cross over that dried up creek, take your fisrt left. That'll turn into a dirt road for a while and then it'll be paved again."<br />
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Now I'm thinking should I really be doing this what with the dirt roads and all. But what the hell. It ended being a 20-mile detour but it worked out perfectly and almost not a car in sight for the time it took us to travel to the north side of Denver and rejoin the interstate. Thank you for the great shortcut and the great conversation and the memorable experience Mr., um, what's your name?....I never did find out. The gentleman worked at Denver International airport. And like he said, he really knows those roads around there.<br />
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One last thing: he spent a good 20 minutes going over the route until he was sure I understood it. I'd do the same thing in Brooklyn (and have, many times) for people who I thought needed help. That makes an impression on tourists and visitors. Yeah, just like the way this Denverite made a never-to-forget impression on me.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-q3v9qduP4MQ/VfkLyBvCaxI/AAAAAAAAWMQ/mTdH_Ut_w_I/s1600/temp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="215" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-q3v9qduP4MQ/VfkLyBvCaxI/AAAAAAAAWMQ/mTdH_Ut_w_I/s400/temp.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">CLICK TO SEE LARGER<br />
This is the shortcut on dirt roads and back roads that skirted the airport<br />
and saved us the time, pain and misery of Denver's rush hour traffic.</td></tr>
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Back to our trip: My old cross-the-street neighbor from childhood in Manhattan Beach, Howard Flug, lives in Boulder. Following our exploits, he emailed me: perhaps we could meet. So the next morning, before we set out for the park, Howard made a short drive up to Loveland and we enjoyed hanging out with him a while.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stacey and Howard. We walked this promenade at<br />
a lovely lake in Steamboat Springs.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Blogster and Howard.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nice to see our old neighbor and friend.<br />
The Flug family lived across the street from the Weinsteins on<br />
West End Avenue back in the fifties and onwards to the nineties!</td><td class="tr-caption"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption"><br /></td></tr>
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I spent two summers with my brother at a summer camp in Colorado owned by my Uncle, Lee Herman. I was only 12 or so at the time but my memories of Colorado and the mountains are very sharp. The crispness of the air, the incredible blue skies and brilliant white clouds, the panorama that greeted my eyes - these all remained with me through the years. I had never returned until now. The camp was down near Colorado Springs. I have a cousin Eric, the grandson of my uncle who still lives there. I was sad that our route didn't take us down there for a reminisce with old Pike's Peak and a visit with my cousin. Since we were eventually headed to Washington state, we had to trend to the north and west and the Springs was just too far south. </div>
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The Rockies didn't disappoint in rekindling my excitement about the West and its mountains. They are magnificent -- grand and massive!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mountain Mama in the mountains.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rocky Mountain high.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stacey at a rest stop at the top of the pass.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Top of the world. What a view!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Road builders. What engineering marvels!<br />
A volcanic field with rocks thrust up and scattered all about.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Glorious - Rocky Mountain National Park.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These birds were all over the rest stop at the top of the pass.<br />
It was as if they were posing for people, maybe<br />
in eschange for something to eat (which is prohibited).</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The chipmunks too - very friendly and up close and<br />
not the least bit afraid of us humans.</td></tr>
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We rode through the park on twisting roads. I'm amazed at the numbers of outdoorsmen and outdoorswomen thronging these parks and making good use of the various activities they offer. Hiking, biking, fishing, skiing, camping, communing with nature and its wild creatures -- it's all yours in the national parks. Like everything else in our society, the parks and their creation in the late 19th early 20th centuries were the objects of intense struggles. On one side, those who saw them as areas of beauty that should belong in perpetuity to the American people - a public asset. On the other hand, the privatizers; they saw no need for publicly-owned assets and detested the idea of government protecting, preserving and offering these assets to the public who would call these treasures their own. This latter group still calls for privatizing public lands and for opening them up to the whims and desires of oil companies so they can enrich themselves with <i>our</i> public assets.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bicyclists racing downhill in Rocky Mountain National Park.</td></tr>
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We exited the park on the western side of the Rockies in Grand Lake and then drove through Granby and up to Steamboat Springs. It was now 7:30 pm and we had a hotel reservation in Dubois, Wyoming, near the Tetons. Here was another catastrophic misjudging of driving time and I have no idea how I figured this out. But Google Maps told me that it was still another six-and-a-half hours to reach Dubois. What??!! I couldn't drive even a minute longer. So we booked a room in Steamboat and lost the reservation (and the cost of it) up in Dubois. Tomorrow, instead of Dubois, we'd drive up to the Tetons and have lunch in Jackson,Wyoming and then continue up to our base to explore the granddaddy of the national parks, Yellowstone.<br />
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Stay tuned.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We've left Rocky Mountain National Park and continued on to<br />
Granby, Colorado and then on to our resting spot for the evening,<br />
Steamboat Springs. Stacey's cousin, Stephanie, lived in Granby<br />
for many years so we took this picture for her.</td></tr>
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Matthew Weinsteinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14951469890072862130noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5629966253623058254.post-32549701603324813732015-09-11T21:09:00.004-07:002015-09-12T05:09:42.507-07:00If It's Thursday, It Must Be Kansas ... I Think.Sep 11, 2015
Kansas is big. Kansas is wide. Kansas is flat. Kansas has big skies and wide open spaces. You could say that driving in a straight line for hundreds of miles is boring. I actually found it exhilarating and awesome in its vast emptiness.<br />
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You can see a thousand miles or so it seems, right out to the distant horizon. Grasslands with farms that seem to be the size of some states. Here and there tiny oases with clumps of trees to shelter a house and other out buildings. Or, way in the distance, a grain elevators or storage cylinders. And gas wells everywhere, pumping, pumping. Kansas -- big blue skies punctuated with brilliant white clouds.<br />
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But, perhaps the most impressive thing about Kansas was the thousands upon thousands of <b>wind turbines </b>that have been, and are now being, installed on the plains and prairies of Kansas. It's a beautiful sight, one that makes your heart sing because it's the right road to travel as opposed to more gas and more oil taken from the bowels of the earth and which are wreaking such havoc with our climate and our futures. Traveling to our destination in Ellis, Kansas (in the middle of nowhere), a black cloud, v-shaped, formed in front of our car, blocking the setting of the sun. But where the legs of the "V" reached up to the heavens, it left two immense areas of clear sky, left and right of us. The sun turned these clear patches a brilliant orange and then crimson. There, the spinning turbines were set off against this fiery red sky. "What a photo," I said to Stacey. But the interstate was two lanes here with a shoulder that could barely fit our car (let alone an 18-wheeler) and the trucks were speeding on by. I didn't try and get that photo which I regret because it was quite a magical sight.<br />
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We had dinner in Hayes, Kansas, just a few minutes before our final motel destination in neighboring Ellis. Hays is a college town with a tiny downtown. And here's a cool and hip little street, with a few nice restaurants and bars: night life out on the great plains.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kansas, Interstate 70. You can see forever.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ikCQ0_EIJ9c/VfOlJ5ZhXkI/AAAAAAAAWC0/7C3gI_nt5pM/s1600/DSC09286.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ikCQ0_EIJ9c/VfOlJ5ZhXkI/AAAAAAAAWC0/7C3gI_nt5pM/s400/DSC09286.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thousands of wind turbines have been installed in Kansas.<br />
<span style="font-size: 12.8px;">Silently spinning, they're producing energy without producing climate change.</span></td></tr>
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We woke up Friday and continued our trek. Before we knew it, there was the sign: "Welcome to Colorado." Already? It took us by surprise. But this part of Colorado was very much the same as the Kansas we just left: wide open, spread out, large vistas. Soon, though, it the topography started to change. Here and there some buttes and undulating hills and gullies and we were gently ascending. We stopped for coffee in Arriba (pronounced "AIR-uh-buh") and instead of getting back on the Interstate, took a ride around town. Jody, the proprietor of an antiques store in town told us that the town has a population of 168, "including people, dogs and cats." Jody didn't have much to say in favor of her home town. "Too small," she said and "too many gossips. Everyone knows what everyone else is doing." I asked her about the wind turbines that surrounded the outskirts of town. She liked them but said she wished the electricity they produced were available to her town and not sent back to Denver far removed from its origin.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5114yS-FWCg/VfOsuUY6MEI/AAAAAAAAWDQ/4izEC-ZbdUA/s1600/DSC09321.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5114yS-FWCg/VfOsuUY6MEI/AAAAAAAAWDQ/4izEC-ZbdUA/s400/DSC09321.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kansas gave way to Colorado. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Interstate 70 at the Kansas border.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grain elevator in Arriba, Colorado.</td></tr>
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We decided to get a closeup of those turbines. We drove out of Arriba on a paved road that soon turned into unpaved. These are enormous towers, so big that they appear closer than they are. We had to drive several miles to reach them. Earlier, at a rest stop, there were several giant rigs, each carryng a a blade (there are three on each turbine) that must have been 100 yards long.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7mIIofFZYZ4/VfOxc32apPI/AAAAAAAAWDk/D6lI1xibK2A/s1600/DSC09274.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7mIIofFZYZ4/VfOxc32apPI/AAAAAAAAWDk/D6lI1xibK2A/s400/DSC09274.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">Two blades on giant rigs in a rest stop on I-70. T</span><br />
hese are about to be installed, adding to the thousands we saw out on the prairie in Kansas<br />
and Colorado.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ycu6GdinHv8/VfOyVrg5bsI/AAAAAAAAWDs/K1eKv7buxBc/s1600/DSC09332.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="261" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ycu6GdinHv8/VfOyVrg5bsI/AAAAAAAAWDs/K1eKv7buxBc/s400/DSC09332.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Outside of the tiny town of Arriba, Colorado, these turbines. They<br />
appeared much closer than they are. We had to drive several<br />
miles to get close to them.</td></tr>
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<br />We continued through Colorado for many more miles (there are always many more miles in every day of our trip so far). The road turned north from the usual westbound as it head up toward Denver. And then we saw them: the Rockies. Far in the distance but not a mirage. We were looking to the south end, toward Colorado Springs. Road signs pointed the way to Pikes Peak but we were heading further north on the range, to Loveland. We'd spend the night and tomorrow would explore Rocky Mountain National Park. Looking forward to that.<br />
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- Matt<br />
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<br />Matthew Weinsteinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14951469890072862130noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5629966253623058254.post-58826220584058127112015-09-10T22:33:00.002-07:002015-09-11T07:16:26.280-07:00St. Louis - Gateway To The WestSep 10, 2015<br />
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Writing this post in Ellis, Kansas. That's about two-thirds of the way across the very flat, very wide open state. At the eastern end of Kansas is Missouri. Ahead of us, Colorado. (And that's where I finished writing this post, lying in bed in a La Quinta Inn in the pretty town of Loveland, Colorado at the foot of the Rocky Mountains).<br />
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We left Duba and drove another long day. Poor Little Biggie, he just lies on the back seat, a collection of white fur, sleeping the day away, with an occasional break for gas, lunch or stretching at an Interstate rest stop. Having said that, he's a wonderful traveler and companion. At one Kansas rest stop there was an open field and, like back home in Prospect Park, we played fetch the ball. Was he thrilled! A model of ectatic exuberance.<br />
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But I digress. Here's my one-word impressions of the states we've traveled through thus far:<br />
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Ohio. Corn.<br />
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Indiana. Corn.<br />
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Illinois. Corn.<br />
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Missouri. Corn.<br />
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We did see a lot of soy beans too. But, like our last car trip to the west coast, it did show us that corn is king as it used for so much more than feed. And certainly not in healthy ways for us or the planet.<br />
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This is our country's bread basket and the highway, Interstate 70, traverses endless miles of corn fields with a great big sky all around us. Besides corn, as I noted, there's lots and lots of soy beans and wheat (didn't see that) and grain sorgum. Oh yes, sunflowers - sometimes miles of sunflowers. What a sight when the sun hits those yellow flowers.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-98QOach8WS8/VfGPmRJacuI/AAAAAAAAV-8/nCjEtuIWXuU/s1600/temp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="81" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-98QOach8WS8/VfGPmRJacuI/AAAAAAAAV-8/nCjEtuIWXuU/s400/temp.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">CLICK TO SEE LARGER</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12.8px;">Our route as of today...NYC to Ellis, Kansas.</span></td></tr>
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We arrived (finally) in Missouri on Tuesday night and checked in to our hotel, just north of the downtown section with its famous arch, the <i>Gateway To The West</i>. But driving there through Missouri, a big, black storm loomed ahead. From the distance it looked very much like a twister and when we finally drove into it, vicious winds whipped tumble weeds across the highway and buffeted our car. And then rain. Lots of it. A bit scary but we survived and arrived.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">CLICK TO SEE ANY PHOTO LARGER..<br />
A scary storm ahead on Interstate 70 in Missouri.</td></tr>
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You never appreciate just how big something is until you can see it in person, in perspective to its surroundings. The St. Louis Arch is such an object. I've seen photos; I've heard people talk about it. But until you see it, well, it's big. Very big. And visible from miles away, towering over the city as you approach from the Illinois side of the Mississippi.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jgD_2Mp1tE4/VfJfR2mHAhI/AAAAAAAAWAA/omm0GUYpXH0/s1600/DSC09216.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jgD_2Mp1tE4/VfJfR2mHAhI/AAAAAAAAWAA/omm0GUYpXH0/s400/DSC09216.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view from our hotel hall window: St. Louis!<br />
The broad Market Street on right runs downtown to the Arch which is several<br />
miles away on the waterfront. On the right is historic Union Station. <br />
The building framed by the arch is the old courthouse.</td></tr>
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We wanted to see the landmarked Union Station, seen in the photo above. When it was completed in the late 1800's it was the largest and busiest railroad station in the world. St. Louis was indeed, the gateway to the west and a genuine crossroads of commerce and an important port on the mighty Mississippi. Now the rail age beckoned after the west had been "settled" and the war against the indigenous people of our land settled in favor of the European immigrants and their armies of conquest:<br />
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"At its height, the station combined the St. Louis passenger services of 22 railroads, the most of any single terminal in the world. At its opening, it was the world's largest and busiest railroad station and its trainshed was the largest roof span in the world. In 1903, the station was expanded to accommodate visitors to the 1904 St. Louis World's Fair." - <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Union_Station_(St._Louis)">Wikipedia article on Union Station.</a></blockquote>
We walked from our hotel to the station, a few blocks down Market Street. Union Station is a breathtaking and magnificent work of art and an architectural masterpiece. When airplanes became the preferred mode of travel (and probably automobile use had a great impact as well) the great railroads of the United States and the grand stations that were built to serve them, faded from the scene. Today, this beautiful building is a fancy hotel and shopping and dining arcade and only three interurban commuter trains call it home. Amtrak serves its passengers at a very much less elegant station several blocks away. But how wonderful that it has been preserved to be enjoyed and marvelled at today. We know what happened to so many others, New York's Pennsylvania station being a prime example.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-d_749kxMKY4/VfJishbVLtI/AAAAAAAAWAQ/eHpAFwOGf0U/s1600/DSC09217.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-d_749kxMKY4/VfJishbVLtI/AAAAAAAAWAQ/eHpAFwOGf0U/s400/DSC09217.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">CLICK ANY PHOTO TO SEE IT LARGER<br />
Occupying a full block of Market Street, Union Station is a magnificent<br />
architectural gem of a bygone era.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ko_lq-eAkJQ/VfJisorg87I/AAAAAAAAWAM/apVUdJAcZtY/s1600/DSC09222.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ko_lq-eAkJQ/VfJisorg87I/AAAAAAAAWAM/apVUdJAcZtY/s320/DSC09222.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Intricate iron work on these elegant lamps in front of Union Station.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PsqcHRQzDUg/VfJiuOuIEQI/AAAAAAAAWAc/kIvEdb7xASI/s1600/DSC09225.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PsqcHRQzDUg/VfJiuOuIEQI/AAAAAAAAWAc/kIvEdb7xASI/s400/DSC09225.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was the waiting room of Union Station. <br />
It just blew us away with the design and detail of its workmanship. <br />
Today the lobby of a Double Tree hotel. But we're glad it was not demolished!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-A7wYQV3Stlw/VfJiv37tAzI/AAAAAAAAWAs/Q3_Nm964Hrs/s1600/DSC09229.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-A7wYQV3Stlw/VfJiv37tAzI/AAAAAAAAWAs/Q3_Nm964Hrs/s400/DSC09229.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">CLICK TO SEE LARGER.<br />
Look at the women statuary holding lamps and then <span style="font-size: 12.8px;">see the women in the bas relief holding </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">aloft</span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">globes of illuminated cut </span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">glass as well!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-I0CmepJRc9Y/VfJivE-UvyI/AAAAAAAAWAk/9n-X2Fb7H_0/s1600/DSC09231.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-I0CmepJRc9Y/VfJivE-UvyI/AAAAAAAAWAk/9n-X2Fb7H_0/s400/DSC09231.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stained glass window.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WrgcJjteehE/VfJiweay-lI/AAAAAAAAWAw/eTOrhczLP_M/s1600/DSC09232.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="309" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WrgcJjteehE/VfJiweay-lI/AAAAAAAAWAw/eTOrhczLP_M/s320/DSC09232.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Need a bathroom anyone? Elegance pervades.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JTo_lfjN44E/VfJixp4IG3I/AAAAAAAAWA8/drcieY3V-co/s1600/DSC09234.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JTo_lfjN44E/VfJixp4IG3I/AAAAAAAAWA8/drcieY3V-co/s400/DSC09234.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These windows face the train shed (no longer used).<br />
It is 11 acres in size and was <br />
once the largest enclosed space on the planet.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZtRrUouUmzU/VfJiz67YfyI/AAAAAAAAWBI/2j9vnAeipUI/s1600/DSC09235.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZtRrUouUmzU/VfJiz67YfyI/AAAAAAAAWBI/2j9vnAeipUI/s400/DSC09235.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A long view of the waiting room.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-__JPGb-2ulk/VfJizq4hqdI/AAAAAAAAWBE/gYv_-s38Xas/s1600/DSC09240.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-__JPGb-2ulk/VfJizq4hqdI/AAAAAAAAWBE/gYv_-s38Xas/s400/DSC09240.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Signage shows the history of Union Station.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--fgYfhjpVt8/VfJi0BAL6qI/AAAAAAAAWBQ/TZm270T0iv4/s1600/DSC09241.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--fgYfhjpVt8/VfJi0BAL6qI/AAAAAAAAWBQ/TZm270T0iv4/s400/DSC09241.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lots of history in this place, pre air travel.<br />
Here a skycap carries Eleanor Roosevelt's bags.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-scp4Y3icZnA/VfJi1C91DfI/AAAAAAAAWBc/nPAadUB_aXw/s1600/DSC09242.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-scp4Y3icZnA/VfJi1C91DfI/AAAAAAAAWBc/nPAadUB_aXw/s400/DSC09242.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Awesome architecture. Brilliantly preserved!</td></tr>
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On a previous road trip with my friend Lonnie to Cinncinatti we saw another example of these grand railroad stations of the late nineteenth and early twentieth century. You can see that <b><a href="https://bicyclist.smugmug.com/Travel/Road-Trip-To-Cincinatti-In/Road-Trip-To-Cincinatti-3/i-7FRBzcX">here.</a></b><br />
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We had to keep to our driving schedule. So after our walk to Union Station we made our way back to the hotel and drove downtown to see the arch close up. But that wasn't to be because of construction which prohibited easy access. Friends had told us we had to go to the top to really appreciate it. But Biggie wasn't interested and us, not too much either. Besides, we had a date in Ellis, Kansas. Well, a motel reservation anyway and it was hundreds of miles away. That story is for another day.<br />
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Good night from Colorado....and that's for yet another day too.<br />
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-- Matt<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qDdDOuh044c/VfJyUaMvb7I/AAAAAAAAWBw/oYCDo3gWg2k/s1600/DSC09253.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qDdDOuh044c/VfJyUaMvb7I/AAAAAAAAWBw/oYCDo3gWg2k/s400/DSC09253.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The St. Louis Arch - unapproachable because<br />
of construction, no easy parking, a packed-up<br />
car, etc. But it's enormous and a photo can't<br />
really indicate just how big it is.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Good bye St. Louis. We're off to Kansas<br />
and then to Colorado and the Rockies!</td></tr>
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="88" msallowfullscreen="" src="https://app.box.com/embed/preview/tz6rh4bqps3wt5sem0m0qw1iasiyqapx?view=&sort=&direction=ASC&theme=dark" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="330"></iframe>Matthew Weinsteinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14951469890072862130noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5629966253623058254.post-71920595865345689122015-09-09T22:01:00.001-07:002015-09-09T22:11:56.032-07:00We've Left Ohio And Heading To St. LouisSeptember 8, 2015<br />
<br />
It was too quick a visit. We arrived on Sunday of Labor Day weekend and stayed at my sister's lake house in northeastern Ohio, but only for two nights. That gave us just one day to hang out, take the boat out for a spin on lovely Atwood Lake, enjoy another dinner al fresco on the deck overlooking the lake and just hang with Duba, Kris and Maya. Tuesday we rose early, packed the car and left on another long day of driving.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xmcddxsxEaA/VfEMo2up77I/AAAAAAAAV9Y/fwrQS6W6pi4/s1600/DSC09143.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xmcddxsxEaA/VfEMo2up77I/AAAAAAAAV9Y/fwrQS6W6pi4/s320/DSC09143.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Biggie, Maya and Moi.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WkpKPnocpl4/VfEMv9slMZI/AAAAAAAAV9g/cbGcNapZS04/s1600/DSC09147.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WkpKPnocpl4/VfEMv9slMZI/AAAAAAAAV9g/cbGcNapZS04/s320/DSC09147.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Maya, The Bigster and Stacey.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aYuI6KRVOLc/VfEMv2yW9-I/AAAAAAAAV9o/cnvhf7aawBc/s1600/DSC09151-Edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aYuI6KRVOLc/VfEMv2yW9-I/AAAAAAAAV9o/cnvhf7aawBc/s320/DSC09151-Edit.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Two beauties!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--L0PFpJXuBA/VfEMwGC5HMI/AAAAAAAAV9k/TgL9jsg01qg/s1600/DSC09167.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--L0PFpJXuBA/VfEMwGC5HMI/AAAAAAAAV9k/TgL9jsg01qg/s320/DSC09167.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Captain Kris navigates his mom's boat.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SP4q2nV16JQ/VfEM4CYHgkI/AAAAAAAAV94/6ZesDduviRY/s1600/DSC09169.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SP4q2nV16JQ/VfEM4CYHgkI/AAAAAAAAV94/6ZesDduviRY/s320/DSC09169.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Duba and her boychik.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mchkTIuV8pM/VfEM62V_N2I/AAAAAAAAV-A/wyWEDLKwdgI/s1600/DSC09173.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mchkTIuV8pM/VfEM62V_N2I/AAAAAAAAV-A/wyWEDLKwdgI/s320/DSC09173.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Maya enjoying a video on Uma's phone.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-L8JKVLEHM_g/VfEM74TT8QI/AAAAAAAAV-I/wyXFLTyf2KI/s1600/DSC09182.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-L8JKVLEHM_g/VfEM74TT8QI/AAAAAAAAV-I/wyXFLTyf2KI/s320/DSC09182.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Biggie loves sailing.</td></tr>
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Before we set out, I set up my tripod and took a photo of all of us -- a memory of the nice time we spent together.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oiB0U5s3Xow/VfEOMFnKM1I/AAAAAAAAV-g/Us246SqwQ2E/s1600/DSC09195.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oiB0U5s3Xow/VfEOMFnKM1I/AAAAAAAAV-g/Us246SqwQ2E/s400/DSC09195.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mother and son.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UVuOyGkvvmM/VfEOKQmfsXI/AAAAAAAAV-U/yLpmkrc3pSI/s1600/DSC09199.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UVuOyGkvvmM/VfEOKQmfsXI/AAAAAAAAV-U/yLpmkrc3pSI/s320/DSC09199.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Three generations.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-umOxXXU6Wss/VfEOLz0jtEI/AAAAAAAAV-c/OLdFC3bpmiE/s1600/DSC09205.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-umOxXXU6Wss/VfEOLz0jtEI/AAAAAAAAV-c/OLdFC3bpmiE/s400/DSC09205.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All of us - just before we set out for St. Louis<br />
to continue our cross country trip.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Matthew Weinsteinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14951469890072862130noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5629966253623058254.post-10861448054492810632015-09-07T09:04:00.004-07:002015-09-07T09:28:07.564-07:00Getting To Know YouSep 7, 2015<br />
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Woke up to a beautiful and bright Labor Day. The headache which developed upon our arrival last night and that found its way to the innards of my head, directly behind my right eye, continued through the night. But this morning, thankfully, it was gone.<br />
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I did my ablutions, shaved and then asked myself if I wanted to shower or just throw myself in to the inviting and still waters of <a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/Atwood+Lake+Park/@38.8998238,-82.2444846,6.85z/data=!4m2!3m1!1s0x0:0xc1d0d07b98eee5bd">Atwood Lake</a> for a morning dip. The lake won. I walked down to the water at the far end of Duba's back yard and descended to the dock. I slipped into the water and swam a few yards out, thrilling to the quietude and serenity of this conservation lake in eastern Ohio, just a few hours west of Pittsburgh.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-p9zOkj8v9ZA/Ve20QlcE9TI/AAAAAAAAV5w/VVaCAXSvc0Y/s1600/sm-09102.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-p9zOkj8v9ZA/Ve20QlcE9TI/AAAAAAAAV5w/VVaCAXSvc0Y/s320/sm-09102.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shower or swim? The lake won!</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_Ze3bcDuCkg/Ve20RVRv7_I/AAAAAAAAV58/E6LdHfnJt18/s1600/sm-09103.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_Ze3bcDuCkg/Ve20RVRv7_I/AAAAAAAAV58/E6LdHfnJt18/s320/sm-09103.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Biggie is ready to play ball.<br />
I'm ready to take a dip.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QFZn_pXIKW4/Ve20QAgc-KI/AAAAAAAAV5s/m775dP26YPE/s1600/sm-09107.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QFZn_pXIKW4/Ve20QAgc-KI/AAAAAAAAV5s/m775dP26YPE/s320/sm-09107.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A lone fisherman on Lake Atwood<br />
at 8 o'clock on Labor Day morning.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gR2L2KRq_pY/Ve20Uw_IPsI/AAAAAAAAV6I/nfv8gP0UZEE/s1600/sm-09111.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gR2L2KRq_pY/Ve20Uw_IPsI/AAAAAAAAV6I/nfv8gP0UZEE/s320/sm-09111.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These steps lead down to the lake<br />
below Duba's lovely back yard.</td></tr>
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Little Biggie followed me down to the water and barked at me as I glided away from him in the dark waters of the lake. He's not a water dog so he didn't join me, alternately approaching the end of the dock, barking and then retreating to the safety of the shore.<br />
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And who else followed me down to the water? My sweet grand niece Maya. I love both of Kris' daughters. Maya is four. Jona is eight. It's a whole different thing when they're both around. Having just one is a special treat, a totally different dynamic. One on one. I noticed this phenomenon with my grandsons. On a recent visit to Washington, we planned an outing to a children's theater in Seattle. But Ethan came down with a cold and so Stacey, Sammy and I spent the day in the city - just the three of us. That was a special day because we could have that alone time with Sam, observing him, relating to him, talking to him and enjoying him without the input of Ethan's brotherly "love" and presence added to the mix.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8it1cWwunTc/Ve20UvXWGvI/AAAAAAAAV6U/ruiW1vAhWN0/s1600/sm-09114.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8it1cWwunTc/Ve20UvXWGvI/AAAAAAAAV6U/ruiW1vAhWN0/s320/sm-09114.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Biggie and Maya followed me down to the lake.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YxRtSJqTHfM/Ve20X3dzDSI/AAAAAAAAV6o/u_fFJhirl1E/s1600/sm-09125.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YxRtSJqTHfM/Ve20X3dzDSI/AAAAAAAAV6o/u_fFJhirl1E/s320/sm-09125.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My sweet litle grand niece, Maya.<br />
Getting to know her.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
And so it is on this visit to Ohio. I'm getting to know Maya much more. The same, I think, is true for her. She's getting to know and enjoy her Uncle Matt.<br />
<br />
A very special visit this time.<br />
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Matthew Weinsteinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14951469890072862130noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5629966253623058254.post-85060062532876361912015-09-06T20:26:00.004-07:002015-09-06T20:51:47.490-07:00The First Day OutSep 6, 2015<br />
<br />
We awoke at 5:00 am, got dressed and prepared to pack the car. It's the Sunday of Labor Day weekend and Stacey said there'd be no cars on the road. I wanted to wait until after the holiday. As it turned out, she was right. We left New York at 8 o'clock. It was sunny but sleepy, quiet and empty. Everyone was where they were and we slipped out of town. In an hour or so, we crossed the Delaware at its famous water gap. We were in Pennsylvania, travelling west on Interstate 80.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ua1FShjO3nA/Ve0DNXo3mJI/AAAAAAAAV34/lekFTsVH5-4/s1600/sm-09068.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ua1FShjO3nA/Ve0DNXo3mJI/AAAAAAAAV34/lekFTsVH5-4/s400/sm-09068.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The car is packed and Little Biggie is ready to rock and roll. <br />
A 10-hour drive liess ahead. But traffic was good and we arrived in Ohio<br />
at 6:00 pm.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xFtAq5Px5JM/Ve0DM5m7z_I/AAAAAAAAV3w/fxxgZS0mvR8/s1600/sm-09069.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xFtAq5Px5JM/Ve0DM5m7z_I/AAAAAAAAV3w/fxxgZS0mvR8/s400/sm-09069.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Escape from New York. We took the Holland<br />
tunnel, traversed New Jersey and crossed<br />
into Pennsylvania at the Water Gap. Then<br />
on to Ohio.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Driving across New Jersey was quick and easy. Getting across Pennsylvania is another matter -- it's big! First, when you leave the Delaware Water Gap behind, the highway department describes the miserable and old 2-lane highway that you cover for the next 30 miles or so as a "congestion zone." Speeds are restricted and you share the road with lots of trucks and many other cars.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_VDtf7nT94Q/Ve0Gqc8NkHI/AAAAAAAAV4I/FcGfM5IrCbA/s1600/sm-09073.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_VDtf7nT94Q/Ve0Gqc8NkHI/AAAAAAAAV4I/FcGfM5IrCbA/s400/sm-09073.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A motorist gets out of her car at a viewpoint on I-80 to snap<br />
a photo of the Delaware Water Gap. The same parking spot<br />
that my parents visited, with us in tow, some sixty years ago.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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But we soon left that congestion behind and eventually passed through the Poconos and then lovely rolling farmland, gently ascending into, what one state sign informed us was <i>The Pennsylvania Wilds.</i> These are the Alleghenies and it is quite wild and mountainous with beautiful vistas.<br />
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So on we drove. An on. I had been up since 5:00 am (Stacey too). But with about three hours to go I was having trouble keeping my eyes focused and open. We pulled over and Stacey took the wheel for the last bit of driving. We arrived at 6:01. Google, several hundred miles back, told us we would arrive at 6:02. How on earth does it do that? In passing, I must remark that Google maps and navigation is so freakin' great. As long as you have a phone signal, it works and works great! Up to the minute road changes, new exits and so on. Highly recommended.<br />
<br />
===<br />
<br />
We were greeted by my sister Duba, her son (our nephew) Kris and his daughter Maya. Kris' wife, Mirjam and their other daughter Jona had returned to Germany. The four of them had been in the states travelling with a stop at Dani's in Washington state where the cousins got to know our grandsons, Sam and Ethan. We were told everyone hit it off fine. Kris and Maya stayed in in Pittsburgh (and now, at the lake house a bit west of that city, in Ohio) to help out as Duba recuperated from shoulder surgery. And, true to form, he was preparing a wonderful dinner of pasta, shrimp and chicken as we arrived.<br />
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Biggie was thrilled to be out of the car, having slept most of the way on the back seat. He ran around the backyard like a bolt of white lightening. And Maya, who adores dogs, found a great companion in our little pooch. Dinner was on the deck overlooking Duba's beautiful backyard and the lake. The sun was setting as dinner was served. This was heaven and the ten hours of driving soon faded away.<br />
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More, in my next post. Until then. - Matt<br />
<br />
PS...you can click on any photo to see it larger...and then you can navigate all the photos by simply using your keyboard's arrow keys (left and right) to move forward and back. Just a nicer way to view the photos. - MW<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Biggie - happy to be out of the car<br />
and what a backyard to run around in!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Q6mfaJuz4uw/Ve0IgY04azI/AAAAAAAAV4g/KHE1THQt5d4/s1600/sm-09083.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Q6mfaJuz4uw/Ve0IgY04azI/AAAAAAAAV4g/KHE1THQt5d4/s320/sm-09083.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The sun was setting on the lake as we sat down to<br />
enjoy Kris' pasta dinner.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oDQVTtOsrzg/Ve0IgewQTAI/AAAAAAAAV4c/tl0mVMo1mSI/s1600/sm-09085.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oDQVTtOsrzg/Ve0IgewQTAI/AAAAAAAAV4c/tl0mVMo1mSI/s320/sm-09085.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My grandniece, the beautiful and charming Maya.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i43bruY9Wwk/Ve0IjVJ26tI/AAAAAAAAV40/yXAT4BsqHos/s1600/sm-09087.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i43bruY9Wwk/Ve0IjVJ26tI/AAAAAAAAV40/yXAT4BsqHos/s320/sm-09087.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes, this is my beautiful sister Duba.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9BjfnO_NFiA/Ve0Ijq1K9eI/AAAAAAAAV44/C_886odJOYY/s1600/sm-09093.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9BjfnO_NFiA/Ve0Ijq1K9eI/AAAAAAAAV44/C_886odJOYY/s400/sm-09093.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thanks, Kris, for a great dinner!</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Jzo1OUtTudc/Ve0Ij7epZmI/AAAAAAAAV48/agzePOlCtYg/s1600/sm-09096.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Jzo1OUtTudc/Ve0Ij7epZmI/AAAAAAAAV48/agzePOlCtYg/s400/sm-09096.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A little Aunt and grandniece moment.</td></tr>
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Matthew Weinsteinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14951469890072862130noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5629966253623058254.post-33636772383400576802015-08-31T12:39:00.001-07:002015-09-01T07:02:41.575-07:00Getting Ready To Get On The Road<div>
Aug 31, 2015</div>
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Is this a dream? Or did we actually decide to <i>do </i>this?</div>
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That is, take our car, load it up and set out on a cross-country road trip? </div>
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That is, leave Brooklyn behind and travel across the vast expanse of our country to the west coast? And then turn around and return? </div>
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Really?</div>
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Readers will remember that we did just that, two years ago, as we helped Dani and Erik move from Virginia to Washington state. We drove one of their two cars and they the other. They had their two boys. We had their two dogs and, yes, our little dog as well. Can you conjure up that sight? Three dogs in our back seat as we drove through New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Illinois, Wisconsin, Minnesota, South Dakota, Wyoming, Montana, Idaho and Washington. But the difference between then and now? Then, we only drove one way, flying back from Seattle. We also had to get out there within a specified time frame. This time, we're driving both directions with no time constraints and only one little dog, the easy traveler, Little Biggie Weinstein.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-l-PAAfsqfQw/VeTfqkQdHHI/AAAAAAAAV0Y/X2M8FthUwXg/s1600/temp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-l-PAAfsqfQw/VeTfqkQdHHI/AAAAAAAAV0Y/X2M8FthUwXg/s320/temp.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This little fella will be coming along for the ride.</td></tr>
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On the way, we'll stop and dwell here and there in cities, towns and countryside and drive through, around and over the prairies, mountains, valleys and canyons of our country. We'll stop to see some of our great national parks, crisscross the Rockies, visit the Tetons, explore Yellowstone and stay a while in Washington state with our daughter, Dani, son-in-law, Eric and grandsons, Sammy and Ethan. Then we'll drive down the west coast through Oregon and California, visit our friends Ann and Alex in Glen Ellen and stop in Los Angeles to hang out with our son Mike and his girlfriend, Jamie and visit with friends, Tamar and Jay. Oh, and spend some with great cousins, Susan and Muriel, out there too!</div>
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Eventually, we'll head back east using the southern route (temperatures permitting by then) as we've never been to the great southwest ... we'll visit Albuquerque and Santa Fe...and then on and on (and anon) to Brooklyn.</div>
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It sounds very ambitious. It <i>is </i>very ambitious!<br />
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And it sounds like a plan, right? Wrong! We haven't even begun to plan our route, lazy and laid back travel planners that we are. So far only this: a few days in Pittsburgh or nearby Ohio to spend time with my sister who lives there. Beyond that, only a single hotel reservation in St. Louis. Other than that, well, nothing! Except that after St. Louis, we'll make a beeline to Denver and the Rockies.</div>
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We're leaving this Sunday. And we're back in early October.</div>
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Please wish us good travelling. I'm hoping you'll come along with us via this travel blog.</div>
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See you all on the road.<br />
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- Stacey, Matt. And Little Biggie.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Lihii4ELtqE/VeStKcWtS5I/AAAAAAAAV0I/ejfkDVQrqtE/s1600/temp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="195" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Lihii4ELtqE/VeStKcWtS5I/AAAAAAAAV0I/ejfkDVQrqtE/s400/temp.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is the route of Day No. 1 - this coming Sunday.</td></tr>
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Matthew Weinsteinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14951469890072862130noreply@blogger.com3