July 25, 2024, Yachats, OR- As I awoke this morning, up in Kent, WA, and pondered my route for the day, I got a message: Astoria is calling, and you should spend the night in Yachats. The route to the tip of Oregon was easily set, and by 12:30 p.m., I was parked near Flavel House Museum. The place looked interesting, but I had limited time and there was a set of hoops to jump, just to purchase a ticket. I was more drawn towards walking downtown. Besides, my camera was acting up and I couldn’t get a clear shot of the house.
This lovely little park would not be denied, by a brief issue with a camera lens. It was established in 2011, on the occasion of Astoria’s bicentenary, to honour the contributions of the Chinese community in Astoria and the Columbia Valley. Text and art tell the story in a delicate and fitting manner.Astoria thus bookends with Lewiston, Idaho, in giving the Chinese immigrant community its due as builders of railroads, jetties, canneries and, in Astoria’s case, the sewer system. Lewiston has the Beuk Aie Temple. Astoria has placed its tribute outside.
Astoria also has its funky side, as seen at this Mexican restaurant, near the Cambium Gallery.
At Cambium, I sat and observed a potter at work, for several minutes, purchasing a lovely bowl as a gift for a couple who I plan to revisit tomorrow. As this is a working studio, I refrained from photographing her work.
The last stop in Astoria was at its Column. High atop a promontory, on the city’s east side, is the tower erected in honour of John Jacob Astor, the community’s founder. Along with two dozen other people, ranging in age from 4-86, I made it up 164 steps and saw these views:
NorthwardWestward
After descending the stairs, it was time to leave Astoria. Cannon Beach was the next brief stop, and afforded the day’s most heart-warming surprise.
View of Cannon Beach, from overlook to the south.There, in a deeper cove to the south of Cannon Beach, was a pod of gray whales at play. I was able to gather a group of about twelve people to watch the festivities, so there were a number of photos taken, in the ensuing ten minutes. The cetaceans kept jumping about, during that time of astonishment on the beach.
My last wonder of the day was of a mechanical type: Tillamook Creamery’s cheese factory. The second floor of the creamery offers a viewing of the machines that are used in cheese-making and an explanation of what the human workers, and a few robots, do at each step of the process.
Vats, where fresh milk is heated. Curds are then separated from whey.Salt is then added to the coagulating mix.Finally, once the cheese has been cooled and is formed into blocks, it can be cut into smaller blocks or sliced into sheets and packaged. The Blue Octopus is a machine that packages and seals the finished cheese products.After the self-guided tour, it was time to get to my lodging, so back to Yatel it was. Dinner was down the street, at Sea Note- a relaxed repast of clam chowder, followed by baked oysters and spinach, at bar side. I couldn’t ask for a more comforting end to a great day on the coast.
July 24, 2024, Kent, WA- The fiords are both forbidding and welcoming at the same time, and I can imagine that the navigators taking us safely to port today must exercise the same caution, around rocks, shoals and marine mammals, as had the kayakers who first came here from Alaska, thousands of years ago, or the various Europeans in their great carracks and frigates, in the final stages of the “Age of Exploration”, in the Eighteenth Century.
It took forever, it seemed, to leave Saltery Bay, the southern edge of the district of Powell River. Someone got carried away and overbooked the late morning ferry, resulting in dozens of people having to wait until the 2:30 sailing. I was one of those who got there after the cutoff. So were the demure woman in the car behind me, and the boisterous, overwrought guy behind her, who blared his car’s horn at the slightest provocation, until the gate guard informed him that he would be asked to find another way to get to his destination, if this were to continue. 2:30 came, though, as 2:30s always do, and we were looking at the scenes below, in short order.
Approaching Earls Cove, on British Columbia’s Sunshine Coast. (Above and next three photos)
Before too long, I was in Halfmoon Bay, the blowhard having zoomed past, at his first opportunity and the sweet lady just going on, once I turned left, onto this property.
The little bit o’ heav’n, Halfmoon Bay, BC
My hosts over the past two days present a reassuring picture for the next two decades of this life. David and Carol are keeping active, both physically and mentally-adjusting to the challenges that advanced maturity, as I prefer to call it, bring to the best-lived of lives.
My hosts, on the Sunshine Coast
I spent much of the past two days in their company, going along for an errand trip to town and joining in a devotional, yesterday morning. Our meals were simple, but David is a healthful cook and presents balanced fare. I can’t top his fish, ginger and rice porridge.
My assistance was with the few things that they cannot do on their own. A key to being successful, in the ninth and tenth decades of life, lies in not giving up those chores and actions that are still within one’s power-even while facing the limitations that nature imposes. I visited with Carol, in her quilting studio and helped with a small item-putting a new battery in her wall clock.
A quilting studioHeirloom embroidery. The calligraphy is in Arabic script: “God is the All-Glorious”.
The small flower beds add the ambiance of the British countryside. This is not hard, as things grow easily here-despite the thinness of the topsoil in a rain forest environment.
Shrubbery and forest co-exist. The shrubs actually help the soil become deeper and more stable, when the leaves fall and are left to become humus. Evergreens need this sort of symbiosis.
I took a short (5 km) hike in the surrounding area, above Halfmoon Bay. The loop road offers a fine cross-section of mainland rain forest, akin to that on Vancouver Island, as well as those of southeast Alaska and the Olympic Peninsula, of Washington State.
Gateway to Trout Lake RoadRain forest off Trout Lake RoadBritish Columbia is increasing fire-wise education, as the past several years have brought horrendous wild fire, even in the rain forest. (As I was hiking in Halfmoon Bay, yesterday, there was a massive wildfire wreaking havoc in Jasper, Alberta, in the Rockies, well to the northeast of here, but still gripping attention across Canada-and beyond.)A local teen hangout, on the Bay side.
Halfmoon Bay also has a small beach, and a general store.
Some surprising items may be found here. I picked up a package of Filipino spring rolls, for David and cashew cheese, for Carol.
Around 9 a.m., it was time to head down to Langdale, and the ferry to the Vancouver area. Again, in short order, I was back in the land of hustle/bustle-but no city stopover ensued, until I got here, to the suburban climes of Kent.
Here are a few more scenes of the Sunshine Coast>
Norwest Bay, from lower Sechelt, BC.Horseshoe Bay, just northwest of Vancouver. (Above and below)
Onward I went, past the city of Vancouver, through the US Border, with minimal ado and stopped at the delightful Newsroom Restaurant, in the border town of Lynden, WA. Two lovely servers, working as a team, brought a small basket that satisfied my fish and chips craving. I passed on the ice cream, though I’m sure it’s delectable.
Bypassing crowded I-5, I took a more leisurely drive down WA Highway 9, only encountering rush hour between Redmond and Kent. Oh, well, some things can’t really be avoided. Golden Kent Motel is spacious and clean,and I have the joy of a kitchenette. Tomorrow will see me further down the road towards Astoria, which is still calling.
July 19, 2024, Victoria, BC- The distraught woman was yelling, at everyone and at no one, as I walked toward Bold Butchery and Grill in search of a falafel dinner. She was adamant that “he” had no business telling her to clean her room. The “room” was a small dome, that actually looked quite tidy. I saw no male around there, so who knows whether the “boss” was present, or was an unwanted memory of a past overlord. There are about twenty-five people living in tents along and adjacent to Quadra Street, down a bit from Turtle Hostel, where I am spending the night. There are about twenty-five of us in the hostel. Only four walls and the ability to pay for lodging really separate the two groups.
Joseph Campbell, in “Myths of Light”, describes the primal cakra of kundalini yoga as muladhara, the “root lotus”, the most basic urge to hold onto something which represents one’s identity. We see this in everyone, from a politician holding onto an office to a soldier fighting to the death, to someone living on the street and guarding personal space, along with the few possessions that are there within that zone. I tend to exercise reasonable precaution and care of my possessions, so that I have what I need, day to day. Obsession with them left, quite a few years back, as the realization set in that there was nothing that couldn’t be replaced-except my life. It has also been thirty-two years since I was homeless, and even then, my little family and I were not living in a tent, but in a motel-and that was only for a month or so. I wish smoother sailing for the folks in this little community, who do seem to take care of one another. There is even a “mayor”, who lives in an RV that is parked across the street from the ornate Conservatory of Music. He was making the rounds this evening, seeing who needs what basics, which he will try to find, when he goes to the Farmers Market tomorrow.
I will meet a Baha’i friend across town tomorrow morning, spending a bit of time along the waterfront, and praying for another friend, who is laid up a bit. That has been the nature of this journey-to connect with members of my Faith community who have felt a bit isolated, of late. So far, it has worked out, and if there are no Baha’is to visit, I have been able to connect with other old friends who I haven’t met in person.
I left the incomparable Bayside Motel, on Bellingham’s commercial strip, after getting Sportage its overdue maintenance check. All is well, and the lead mechanic remarked that the vehicle is in tiptop shape. Lord knows I pay attention to it. Bayside is a reasonably-priced establishment, that keeps up with the chains, when it comes to things like breakfast and a guest laundry room, as well as the sheer comfort of the sleeping room itself.
I got to the ferry terminal at Tsawassen, a bit early, and so had to drive around a bit, then return to the gate. The computer system resets on the hour, so a 1 p.m. check-in does not mean 12:55. Once in queue, there was plenty to do, in passing two hours-between lunch, writing to my resurfaced friend and organizing what I could of still-damp laundry, drying in the car. (Long story short, the dryers at Bayside were taken up by one family, and check-out happened before the clothes could be finished. At least they’re clean!)
The ferry ride was smooth, I napped for a while and it was easy to find Turtle Hostel. As indicated above, this is a somewhat artsy area. It also has several Mediterranean restaurants, which is good for my palate. Bold Butchery and Grill has several varieties of hummus to go with its excellent falafel. I chose the turmeric version. After dinner, it was easy to connect on a Zoom devotional, then segue into a section of Myths of Light that talks about the seven bodily cakras.
Smooth sailing depends on self-knowledge, so I am definitely interested in continuing to learn what Joseph Campbell had to say about the upper cakras.
July 17, 2024, Fife, WA- Tuesday and Wednesday are “the weekend” for both of Yachat’s downtown coffee shops. Both Bread and Roses and Green Salmon sound interesting, but all must rest, at some point during the week. So, I found myself in the mood for a different sort of morning repast. I found it at Luna Sea Fish House, right on the waterfront, in the heart of downtown. There were numerous “breakfasty” items, like salmon and scrambled eggs, (which I have been known to whip up, myself, on occasion). I took the leap, though, on this nippy morning, and opted for a heaping bowl of Slumgullion. It’s been decades since I found this creamy Puget Sound-style clam and shrimp chowder, in any restaurant. Luna’s rendition was excellent, and took care of my palate, and my sense of warmth, until evening.
Luna Sea Fish House, a haven for slumgullion, and other fruits de mer, in downtown Yachats
After this hearty meal, which was eaten at a picnic table, outside, I looked about Yachats a bit longer, checking out the beach.
Perpetua Beach, Yachats, with the Cape in the background.
View of Cape Perpetua and beach, YachatsGrey skies at morning, with incoming tide, Perpetua Beach, Yachats
My next stop was in Newport, where I took in Yaquina Park, after a small brain fart, with regard to finding the turnoff. A couple of locals “directed” me to the right spot, and all was well.
Yaquina Point Lighthouse, Newport, ORYaquina Bay Bridge, from Yaquina Point, Newport, OR
With that, I was fairly done with photography for the day, as a dinner engagement awaited, in Hoquiam, WA, some five hours to the north. So, great places like Astoria and Fort Stevens will be off in the future, it seems. After a stop at Blue Heron, in Tillamook (one can scarcely show up for dinner empty-handed, after all), I made a beeline for Hoquiam.
Spaghetti, in spicy meat sauce, was a delight, as was conversation with these fine folks.
It was a fairly short hop over to Tacoma/Fife, after dinner. On to Old Town Tacoma, and northward to Bellingham, tomorrow.
July 16, 2024, Yachats, OR- The otherwise congenial motel owner bemoaned the fact that the temperature in this resort town had not topped 55 F today, and that the fog had hung on for most of the day. I can understand the frustration that many residents of the coastal Northwest, at the constant fog and drizzle. Still, for the rest of the continent, such gloom is actually a pleasure. We seek balance, wherever we may live and in whatever circumstances we may find ourselves. Therein lies the choice: Be content with where and how we are, or make adjustments.
Yachats (pronounced YAA-haats), is a small resort town, just north of Cape Perpetua, on the central Oregon coast, north of Florence. The Yatel is a delightful small establishment, with a mini-kitchenette (plates, bowls, cups and glasses, stainless steel utensils, cookware, hot plate, toaster-and the standard mini-fridge and microwave oven). The place is worth the cost, though I know that if I am ever this way again, it would be a good idea to book ahead.
Cape Perpetua, about three miles south of here, is another Oregon Coast gem. The wind gets intense up there, just as it does at Cape Mendocino, way down in California’s Lost Coast region and in many similar spots along the North Pacific. Still, it is a magnificent place, and I noted a huge number of RVs parked in the roadside spots, last night. Here are some scenes of Cape Perpetua, in the clarity of daylight.
Cape Perpetua (Above and next few scenes)Looking towards the top of Perpetua. (Above and below)
Earlier today, I spent about an hour with two dear friends in Ashland, OR., catching up on how things have gone for each of us, since my visit there last July. Jody, Philip and their faithful guard dog, Stryker, are still hanging tight.
From Ashland, I continued up I-5 to Winston, then cut over on Rte. 42. Coquille has Uncle Randy’s, with hearty diner fare. Randy has a pay-it-forward option, mainly for locals: A regular can pay a certain amount towards a meal for one who is known to be less fortunate. The limit is one person paying for one meal, once a week. This is a fine example of faith-in-action-and compassionate conservatism. The food was marvelous, in my palate’s opinion.
I will spend a few minutes checking out Yachats further, in the light of day, then head onward up the coast, completing a journey that I interrupted in 2012, and be in Hoquiam by mid-afternoon.
July 14, 2024, Carson City- There is much that one does for love, in this life, that would not otherwise be on one’s personal agenda. Parents and grandparents most often know this. So do caretakers of disabled spouses or elderly parents. Teachers and coaches also do, to some extent, though their personal agendas are wrapped within their callings.
This goes well beyond the obvious things, like bathing and dressing those who are unable to do so for themselves, or watching small children who are playing outside, or in a public space. It extends to those who “hold their noses and play yet another round” of a game one finds tiresome or even irritating. It becomes, at its level best, an exercise in detachment.
Thus did a friend spend time with a beloved child. I joined them, finding actually a mild amusement in the game, which is more than a bit whimsical. Such is childhood, on occasion, and rightly so. There is more than enough preparation for adulthood that faces today’s children, and at an earlier age-despite what pundits and commentators say about delayed adolescence. There is that too, of course, and the rub is that someone has to be the mature decision maker and social actor. When an adult-even a parent-is in the midst of delayed adolescence, sometimes the child(ren) have to step in. I have seen this in a great number of cases, over the years. Children, in such instances, are out on a limb, and do the best they can-but they don’t have all the tools necessary to hold things together.
Grandparents are in a very special position. There are jokes made about being able to send the kids home, at the end of a day, but there is no love quite like that of Grandma, Grandpa, Nana, Papa, Nonna, Aba, Bump or Meemaw. It is, in its essence, a reflection of the deep love that is held for one’s adult children, that the thought of them not succeeding, of them suffering the injury or loss of their offspring is beyond the pale.
Being a grandparent in waiting, I understand this concept, and am glad to just be able to dote on those children and youths of other friends and relatives-until such time as my own grandkids arrive-and even then, devotion is unlimited.
July 12, 2024, Beatty, NV- So did the attendant, at a convenience market in the small Mohave Desert town of Dolan Springs, explain a decision she had made to a much younger woman. Since I am inclined to wish long and happy lives to just about anyone I meet, I silently concurred. Mom always answered my chortles at one or another of her predicaments by singing “Your day will come“.
After a morning of home base activities, whilst waiting for the final word on a possible shelter, I prepared for Trip # 3, of 2024. Right at Noon, the shelter was deemed unnecessary, and by 1 p.m., I set out. Six hours later, after pit stops in Seligman, Dolan Springs, Las Vegas and Amargosa, I stopped here, so as to join a Baha’i Zoom call. It was plenty to drive here, in heat that ranged between 95-118 (35-47.77) degrees. My AC worked its magic and I was fine, so long as I kept pushing water down my gullet.
All along the drive, I contemplated thewhen of letting go- of power, of control, of position. This is not an issue for me, personally, but it seems much of the leadership of our governmental, financial and social institutions is unable to pass the baton. I have been ecstatic when a younger person shows up and is ready to take up the mantle of whatever mission I have had in front of me. I will always be willing to lend a hand, but being in charge is a bonus, not a craving.
Perhaps some of the younger ones will experience a strong urge to hold on, overstaying their welcome and even outliving their usefulness. Should that happen, I offer this, right here, right now. “May your time in the limelight impart lessons and knowledge that serve you well-and may those be of the sort that can be shared with the younger generations of YOUR seniorhood. May you remember these days, and know when to take the position of being ONE among many, of a number of generations who work together.”
I will spend much of the weekend with one of my favourite families, with 5 or 6 bright, engaging children, and their loving parent and grandparents. There is no overbearing or insecure adult there, at least not when it comes to the children’s upbringing.
Those who have tried are relegated to the periphery of the children’s lives. May they understand, some day.
July 11, 2024- The whirling dervish of energy kept on spinning today. At one point, I packed a “go bag” of stuff, went out to the car and found…I had left my keys in the house. After looking about for a bit, I found the carefully hidden spare key and got my act together again.
This is a week of everything happening simultaneously. As the call came for me to join two other volunteers on a preliminary shelter arrangement, I was also dealing with a charitable transaction that involves a phone app-which is similar in name to another phone app. (Don’t worry, both are legitimate.) The school that is getting the cash will wait until tomorrow, and as it happens, the decision on setting up a shelter will also wait until tomorrow.
So, three of us went out to a community about 45 miles west southwest of Prescott, and dropped off a trailer of supplies, to be used in the event of a shelter being established. We then turned around and came back. My part in this matter is done, unless a roaring blaze rekindles, between now and 10 a.m. tomorrow.
The day started with my annual physical examination. I was pronounced a fine physical specimen-younger in appearance than my age. There is only an issue with not drinking enough water-easily resolved, and a slight uptick in LDL-so I am to take one more Red Yeast Rice capsule (total of 2)-and 1 cinnamon capsule, each day. I can do this, and keep on with weight reduction and a fine mental balance. This PA sees all of his 70+ year-old patients every six months, so I will be checked again in January. No worries.
Tomorrow, I will head over to Kingman, up through sizzling Las Vegas and on towards Carson City, spending two days with my Nevada family. Then it’s up through northern California, Oregon and Washington, with stops to see Baha’i and other friends-and across the Straits of Juan de Fuca, to Vancouver Island, the Sunshine Coast, Metro Vancouver and southeast British Columbia, before reversing the route.
July 10, 2024- In the span of fifteen minutes, the skies opened up, thunder and lightning were all about, cars were coming out of every side street and driveway, and I got a phone call from someone who was at wit’s end about a conflict.
I pulled into the driveway at Home Base, with caller still needing my attention, as I juggled key, coffee cup and phone. Why didn’t I just hang up? Caller said no one else was willing to listen to him and several were avoiding his calls. Somehow, we were disconnected anyway and I was able to take care of more urgent business. I called him back and reached a point of closure, at least for the time being.
There are frequent spates of frenetic activity. Maybe it’s something in the air. Maybe, as my brother says about dreams, it’s the altitude-but that doesn’t explain frenzy, or fever dream, in places like Phoenix, New Orleans, or Bombay Beach, CA. I do think that it has to do with electricity in the atmosphere. We’re certainly not close enough to the full moon, at least not for another ten days.
The day didn’t start off in frenetic fashion, nor is it ending that way. The campers were in no hurry to leave, and so departed an hour later than their schedule said. I couldn’t blame them: 118 (47.8) in Phoenix makes 88 degrees (31.1) in Bellemont feel like the beach in Bermuda. Even after I left, so as to meet an appointment in Prescott, they were still at the truck stop, when I stopped to fuel up with gasoline.
We got a preliminary notice about a possible shelter being needed, tomorrow, in a town an hour west of here. I could help tomorrow night, and if it gets to be a major event, then the trip Northwest will be delayed. As I write this, though, the fire is being “monitored” and no shelter is being set up, yet. We will know more in the morning.
The day included a drowned yellow jacket, examining samples for which colour to use in an exterior paint job, getting the camp facility semi-closed, reconciling my chiropractic schedule with summer and fall travel, and assuaging the anxiety of the above-mentioned caller, a friend of ten years. Through it all, I did not personally feel frenzied. That’s progress.
July 9, 2024, Bellemont- Staff-wise, I was a none-person show, yesterday evening, as camp entered its second night. The chaperones have their own way of doing things, and take the rules and regulations of the camp committee in stride. We both get to the same place, in terms of serving the campers. That, to me, affirms they are on the right path, even if it is different from the way I do things. Al-Bab, Who was executed 174 years ago, today, stressed the importance of working systematically and in unity, in the course of establishing a truly peaceful world.
This being a Baha’i Holy Day, my post is a mere two paragraphs. Suffice it to say, my parents raised us to approach anything we do in a thoughtful and systematic manner. It took me a bit longer than my siblings, but I have been in that frame of mind, for at least fifteen years. It is crucial to my well-being, and personal safety, moving forward. Expanding this ethic, every problem that families, communities, nations and the planet as a whole face requires a systematic and well-thought-out approach, in order to truly address the matters raised. It doesn’t mean that the same problem(s) won’t resurface again, down the road, but it will provide a roadmap for dealing with them now-and when they rear their human-nature-caused heads again.
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A Sagittarian Seeker 