The Art of Getting Lost

For the first 17 days in July, I have found my way in Victoria, Langley, Bellingham and Portland.  Even with a lot of help from Google Maps and the old-fashioned paper variety, I have managed to get myself turned around and utterly lost.  Many times.  At first, I found the sense of being lost as disconcerting, particularly when I landed on a freeway and had no idea of what direction I was headed. 

Vancouver Skyline - July 1 2014 - one place I did not get lost

Sitting at a Japanese restaurant in a Tacoma mall, I was wondering if I could recommend eating there and then I realized that I probably couldn't find it again.  On a journey where most days I don't go into the same bathroom twice, I see that the opportunities appear before me all because I chose a different road.  How much of this actually happens or did I notice before I decided to move to the coast?   So many opportunities in my life I have stumbled upon. 

I did amuse myself pretty heartily in getting lost.

Travelling alone, I am both the pilot and navigator.  Sometimes they don't agree.  I have an instinct that the next traffic light is my turn but for some reason I continue in the middle lane, see the street sign at the last minute and I am scrambling to find my way back.  One of my detours took me full circle back to where I had been - to my utter surprise.  I started all over.  And isn't that one of the beauties in life - that we get to begin afresh?

Every day.  And every day, I have new opportunities for getting lost.  I can get used to that. 

Pike Place Market - Seattle - Adorned for engagement photos

 

 

It is what I find along the way that is what life is all about.  The surprises, seeing something in a different way, a great conversation with a stranger, new understandings.  That is the gift of new places.  And getting lost. 

A change of pace

I am more of what you might call a night owl. So when I travel, I usually leave at a sane time in the morning (9 or 10 am or even later). When I was planning this long weekend (I know this isn't a long weekend for Canadians but I took a couple of extra days off) to visit Aimee before she makes her big move to here, I decided to leave early in the morning.

We were up bright and early, Julia and I, and set out on the road at 6:36 am, which is truly insane. Except there are some perks:
- There aren't very many other people on the road at that time.
- The sun was quite glorious, showing off all the beautiful spring-green in the trees.
- I arrived on the lower mainland early and got to Aimee's place at 2:30 - my personal record.

I had some concern that I would be too early for the Copper Eagle Cappuccino and Bakery but they open their doors at 6 am. Still, I missed the usual queue. And found the perfect bread for my roasted vegetable and feta salad. This salad is a knock-off of one I found at the Kootenay Co-op, and it is very tasty. And nutritious.

I brought all my food along on this journey, including a green smoothie which, I discovered, is a great thing to take on the road as it provides all the alertness required.

I was able to avoid the lower mainland traffic even though it is a Saturday and this was not a rush-hour time. It was all grand because the weather was absolutely inspiring!

I didn't find my road companion until the lower mainland. A road companion is someone who is travelling at a similar pace as you - sometimes they pass you and then you pass them. Today, it was a black 4-Runner who I might add was a very gracious passer. These are the things that amuse one on the road when alone for many hours. It is a bit disturbing actually.

The trip also involved a new strategy I have been working on. I have been thinking about what to do about Julia's litter as I don't really think it is good to keep adding it to the landfills. So in the winter, I changed her litter to a type that is wood pellets. When the wood pellets get wet (you know what I mean), they turn into sawdust. Which is very much like nature. So I am thinking that since I live in the middle of lots of nature, I would put the sawdust back into the wilds. This litter by the way works like a charm.

So yesterday, I packed it up and put it in my new recycled garbage bags. The ones that decompose, not made of plastic. In it went into the trunk with all the rest of the travelling goods, as I thought I would find a place along the road today and dispose of it. Good plan...

When I stopped in the midst of a forest, I grabbed the bag out of the trunk and it immediately fell apart. Apparently, the bag already began decomposing. And sawdust interlaced with kitty doo, fell mostly inside of the trunk. It had scattered on the suitcase, and fell into the well where the spare tire lies. Picture it??

I picked up as much as I could by finding a real plastic bag and a cloth that I used to clean the windows. These were not the greatest tools. But, hey, when the homesteaders made their way across the land, they did what they had to do. It was a long and laborious undertaking, and some of the litter actually got to go into the forest.

Back on the road, I pondered my solution. Princeton. I found the car wash rather quickly, and got a great deal at the vacuum station. $1.00 until you were done... A very good deal.

And that, was my day - so far! More adventures coming...

Geocaching

If you loved to do treasure hunts when you were a kid, I found a new hobby for you! Geocaching.

The idea behind geocaching is to find hidden objects (caches) that have been planted around the world, share your experiences with others online, and connect with the larger community. Once you have found a geocache, you sign the logbook and return the cache to its original location.

What you need to find the caches is a good sense of adventure and a GPS.

At this time, there are 804,108 caches around the world. To start the process, a person puts their postal or area code onto a website and then the program searches for caches in your vicinity. In our neighbourhood, there are 149 caches hidden.

If you want to see how it works, here is the getting started part of the official website.

Now, where did I put my GPS?

Notes from the Road

I am back home from the journey west. Here are some highlights of the last few days:

Canada Customs
The road from Metalline Falls to the border was quiet so when I pulled up to customs, it was a surprise to find a line up of cars. After 45 minutes, I had my turn. The officer, after looking at my package of receipts, asked, "What is Trader Joe's?"


Bellingham Grand Opening
The Friday I was in Bellingham was the grand opening of Trader Joe's. BJ and I decided that this was one event that we had to experience. So we went shopping, along with many, many other Bellingham folks. Once we went down the second aisle, we had the brainwave of getting in the check-out line and one holding the space while the other went and picked up their items. Clever.



Space Needle
I heard that one of the tenants who lives in Ryan's building is a collector of Space Needles so Saturday morning (the 29th) before I left for home, I went to visit Brian. He has many Space Needles - made of brass, gold, silver, wood, paper, plastic - some that have cigarette lighters at the top and two that have ashtrays. He has a whole shelf devoted to salt and pepper shakers. He has one of the inaugural Space Needle wine glasses made for the opening of the Space Needle which was built for the World Fair - the opening day was April 21, 1962. He has a Space Needle that lights up at the top. Brian knows many facts about the Space Needle including the names of the paints that were used on the original:

- Orbital Olive for the body,
- Astronaut White for the legs,
- Re-entry Red for the saucer, and
- Galaxy Gold for the roof.

It was a very impressive collection!


Mountain View
After eating Taco Bell with Ryan and Julie, I left Seattle at 2:15 and headed down I-90, in the rain. But l/2 hour later the weather cleared, and the roads, I am glad to say, were dry all the way home. As I came over the Snowqualmie Pass, this is what I saw...



I guess winter's arrival is inevitable.

Oh what a journey

In 15 days, I travelled 3,195 kilometres. I was in bumper-to-bumper traffic from the day I arrived crossing the Port Mann Bridge to traffic in Vancouver, Seattle, Everett (always), Portland, and Mount Vernon. I have developed a big empathy for commuters.

On the Road At Last

For most of July and August, I have stayed close to home - the festivals, beaches, and long, hot days of summer have been consuming. But it was time to see the big skies, and land of sunsets. So on Friday, off I (Julia too of course) went to Spokane.

Julia on vacation.


Now, technically, Al lives in the city of Spokane Valley (yes, a valley called a city) and even more specifically, he lives in the community of Opportunity. Now how could one have a better named place? Opportunity is just outside of your door, at every corner... well, you get the picture.

Now if I was a reporter, I would go and do research about how a place came to be called Opportunity. But in this case, I think the imagination would have a good deal more fun with it. Perhaps it was named by a man who won a lot of land in a poker game. Or it was named by the person that built the first casino there, to lure others to their establishment. Or someone who was just plain glad to be alive!

We didn't stay in Opportunity on Saturday - off we went to Greenbluff to see what was happening with the harvest. It was peach time, tree-ripened! Where we ended up, though, was at a farm that allowed us to pick our own raspberries and blackberries. Sadly, the raspberries were not ripe. ???? Well, I learnt that there are two seasons for raspberries. The upshot was that Al and I spent our afternoon picking blackberries. I tried one, two, three and then ventured to have four, but with each assessment, my conclusion was the same - I don't really like blackberries. I like the berry part. But the actual taste. Nope. But I could appreciate that they are heaven-sent... so beautiful, and inspiring... as you can see.



I have been reading and hearing a lot lately about the 100 Mile Diet; with this food plan, people try to eat food that was grown close to home. I read in the Inlander newspaper today that there was a conference on the petroleum industry promoting this plan (though they called it the 250 Mile Diet), as it makes a lot of sense in the consumption of our natural fuel resources. There is a general idea that is spreading like wildfire that it doesn't make sense for us to be hauling food such vast distances - not nutritionally nor earth-nomically. (Yes, I did invent that word.) If we adopt this plan, we would not be hooped if there was a transportation problem.

In that copy of the Inlander, there were several stories of farmers quite committed to the notion of growing organic food and animals on small farms in the Pacific Northwest. I was struck by how their dedication and plain hard work is really what sustains us... literally. And allows us to eat peaches that are vine ripened. The variety I bought was called Sweet Dreams. My wish to you.

Travelling West

Julia, the travelling cat, and I headed out of the mountains yesterday to flatland, and then back into the mountains. This journey usually takes about 8 hours.

Life is quite different on the road these days, in increased traffic. The road from the border to the major highway into Spokane is resort country so many of the vehicles on the road are pulling boats. On this day, Julia, the wonder cat, was enjoying her journey and was very quiet. Sometimes she doesn't and then wants to hear Tina Turner and usually quite loud. So the journey was without any auditory accompaniment.

How do I spend the time on long car trips? Observing, mostly, I suppose. I have taken the journey west many times now, both in the US and Canada. The journey on Highway 3 to the coast has some of the most spectacular geography on the planet (not that I have seen everywhere on the planet), 5 mountain passes, and many more valleys. A lot of ascending and descending.

Travelling via the US starts with about 3 hours getting to Spokane; about an hour and a half from home, the valleys open up and the massive sky boasts itself. At Spokane, I-90 takes me to the coast. This is a 4-lane highway. Yesterday what I noticed after about 100 miles (that's a difference too), was that I was getting into my own rhythm of driving. Because of having the choice of 2 lanes, I can go at my own speed, and then of course, use the cruise control which is hard to do when driving up and down a mountain.

Being in my own rhythm is like a waking meditation. Observing in a mindful manner.

Most of the driving I enjoy is in the "shoulder" seasons. By the summer time, the roads are full of vehicles, all travelling at their own unique speed, some sight seeing and some wanting to get somewhere fast. I don't find it particularly enjoyable. Winter, except for its dangers lurking around every curve, has a driving appeal. I don't often travel to the coast during the winter because it can extend the travel time by sometimes 50%. That makes for one very full day - and a bit of white knuckling as well.

My first journey to the coast in the spring is usually for Easter. This is always a most enjoyable journey because the world is awakening, and few people have discovered that it is an ideal time to be on the road. There is always a fairly big risk that there will be snow happening at the top of the mountains, so I don't change the snow tires. As you saw last month, the snow tires were a GOOD idea!

On the road yesterday, I amused myself with the licence plate game. This game, has many variations; when in Montana or watching Montana plates, someone who knows (that would be Al!) will be able to identify the county where the car normally resides. Since Montana is sooo big, I often hear Al say, "They are far from home."

My children and I began the licence plate game in Florida, where there is a lot of people from many different states. BJ, who we were visiting at the time, gave us a briefing so we could spot the plates easily. Yesterday, I saw cars from 13 states; Pennsylvania was the farthest. And I saw none from North or South Dakota - I guess they were travelling a different direction.

In a way there are plenty of ways to keep busy on the road... Not just for me....

Yesterday... Julia, the curious cat:



More pictures to come... there is a problem with uploading images with my Browser...

The Journey Home

While I was travelling back to the Kootenays today, a lot of people were travelling the other direction. To the lower mainland, I concluded.

The mountains are still exquisite with their caps of snow. In the valley bottoms, spring is in various stages. Here is a quiet bit of the road. (Whoever first posts the actual location in the comments at the bottom of this entry, I will make a homemade dinner! - don't be shy!)


Usually in the mountains you descend into a town or city, and there are views that capture your attention. Here is the view coming into Oosoyoos. If you remember the post from two days ago, that was Oosoyos from the other direction.


As I rounded the corner into Grand Forks, I saw this view of the mountains. Does that look like fresh snow way up there???


Indeed:


The stop on the Blueberry Paulson:


Looks like I picked the wrong shoes today...

Travels West

Easter Friday in Canada means (for me) a day off... so I am off for a long weekend with my daughter.

I woke up early this morning (despite going to bed at 2 am), to sunshine. And plenty of views of the mountains. The first mountain pass (there are 5 on the entire journey) is called the Blueberry Paulson; it is at 1525 metres above sea level. I know that because there is a sign at the summit, and today I took a photo of it. The problem was that the in the actual moment of the picture taking, it was obscured by:


One of the best views to anticipate on the way to Vancouver (can't see it on the return) is Christina Lake (about an hour and a half from home):




On this journey, I actually stopped at the top of the Oosoyos hill. You can see for miles and miles and miles.



The second last leg of the journey is through Manning Park. The road through the Park is called the Hope Princeton Highway, and it has some of the wildest weather, particularly in the winter. At the Allison Summit, there is still plenty of snow, piles of 2 to 3 foot high snow banks. This picture is taken further down the road where there is no snow on the road level, but on the mountain tops, well, winter is still happening.

Winter is retreating along the entire journey. But there is still plenty of memories of it...

After 6 hours on the road, I see my last close view of the mountains: