The Road to 65, Mile 204: A Potlatch and A Walking Tour

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on July 2, 2015 in Hiking and Nature, Social, Travel

June 20, 2015, Victoria- I hit the ground running this morning, though it’d have been easy to laze the day away in Anacortes. A three-hour ride across the straits lay Sidney, BC, a harbour town northeast of Victoria. British Columbia’s capital was participating fully in Canada’s National Aboriginal Day. While this was officially on Sunday, the festivities were going on all weekend, on the grounds of the Royal British Columbia Museum, a magnificent facility, which would have taken up the entire weekend, in and of itself.

I zipped to the ferry station, west of Anacortes, and parked carefully in the day lot, as I would be returning at night.The wharfside featured some competitors for breakfast.

The cormorants far outnumbered the lone gull, however, so he followed us into the water for a while. Our first stop was Friday Harbor, a delightful little town I might like to explore further, some day.

The same is true of Sidney, the small port where we landed. A gruff Customs Officer gave me the third degree, then sent me happily along, to the port’s charming downtown.

My first act was to check Eastview Park, and its sculptures.

The artwork continued, downtown.

I spent about 20 minutes and C$ 10, at Haunted Bookshop, said to be Vancouver Island’s oldest.

The proprietor was kind enough to give me change for the bus to Victoria. I took a double decker, going to the top tier, and engaging in conversation with a Korean student, resident in Vancouver, who was also here on holiday. He was primarily interested in shopping, and in going to Butchart Gardens, which I had already consigned to a future visit. They are another site that is worth a full day, in and of themselves.

Upon arriving at the potlatch site, I took several minutes to wander among the totem poles of the Royal Museum grounds.

I also took in the Helmcken House, home to Dr. John Helmcken and his family, in the late 19th Century. Dr. Helmcken persuaded fellow British Columbians to join the Dominion of Canada.

This carillon, on the north side of the museum grounds, adds a more contemporary touch to the mix.

Once into the Potlatch area, we were set straight as to where we were. The Songhees and Esquimault (Es-KWY-mawl) are working commonly, to preserve Aboriginal fishing rights and guard the health of the waterways.

I was taught, from an early age, that listening and observing were especially important, when in the presence of Native elders. Of course, these skills certainly lend themselves well to getting along in ANY company. I watch a seal-hunting dance, by some of the Songhees people, after having enjoyed a bowl of Vancouver Island-stye clam chowder and fry bread, an Aboriginal staple, across the continent.

While waiting for the walking tour guide, I took in the British Columbia Parliament Building and the Empress Hotel, diagonal from Parliament. The neo-Baroque British Columbia Parliament Buildings were completed by Francis Rattenbury, in 1898.

The Fairmont Empress Hotel, completed in 1908, was the western showpiece of the Canadian Pacific Railroad’s hotel line. It certainly competes with the grand hotels of Montreal, Toronto and Vancouver, in terms of ornateness.

I’m sure Queen Victoria would have approved of the city named in her honour.

Our walking tour started, just after I had paid homage to the Queen. We began at the old harbour, which guide Mark Albany, of the Songhees Nation, explained was traditional Aboriginal fishing ground, though the harbour was largely filled in by the British, for the sake of commerce. It is about half the size of its pre-British days.

Mark was an incisive, fast-moving human encyclopedia.

Human hand and arm sculptures appear at five points, in downtown Victoria. They honour the industry of all workers, who built the city, into a vibrant port.

These Romanesque supports for the downtown evoked Rouen and Vannes, France, for me.

Aboriginal kitchen middens have been preserved, at the water’s edge, by the City Council, as an archaeological zone.

Mark took us in and around the remnants of the Bastion, the original British seaside fortress, meant to defend against the Spanish and Russians, as well as against any Aboriginals who might have had depredatory intentions.

As you might guess, part of this building is now used as a wine cellar.

We looked around the old commercial district, where Mark noted the contrast between the British division of property into parcels, and the Aboriginal notion of land being for common use.

The original cobbles of Victoria’s streets were built of Douglas fir.

As this was soon found to be an unwieldy practice, the British turned to stone and pressed glass pavers for their streets.

I had to bid farewell to Mark,the group (who were mostly Victoria residents, just learning about their city from a First Nations perspective) and to fair Victoria. As the ferry back to Anacortes passed into the strait, a pair of orcas were engaged in feeding.

It wasn’t quite sunset, but the red sails were out.

The trimast also was out, seeking cetaceans for the evening.

I was favourably impressed with Victoria, and will set aside more time, strictly for Vancouver Island, on some future jaunt. For now, though, thought must be given to other areas of the Northwest, before I head southward to my base.

The Road to 65, Mile 214: The Black Tiles

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on July 1, 2015 in Personal goals, Social

June 30, 2015, Prescott- This is where I resume the practice of writing two posts a day. Morning will feature a reminiscence of the day just prior. Evening will bring a post related to a just-completed journey to the Pacific Northwest and southeast Alaska. Thus, you will not a juxtaposition in the “Miles” referenced.

On June 30, 2013, I was returning from a visit to the Navajo community of Dinebito and the Hopi village of Polacca. Whilst driving through Leupp, on the way back, a bulletin came on KNAU. 19 wildland fire fighters had been killed in a windblown firestorm, at Yarnell, west of Prescott. The team had been based in Prescott itself. The communities of Yarnell and Peeples Valley had been evacuated, thus giving me an exact message as to what had to be done next. I went directly to the Red Cross shelter, at Yavapai College, and served, as needed, there for the next four days, while working around a family event in San Diego.

All of that is now a blur, but the suffering of the “Hot Shot’s” families, ever since, is all too real. Their day-to-day recovery has been undermined by the crusty attitude of many here in the area- “The men knew what they were getting into, when they signed on. Don’t give the survivors a dime more than they’re due already.” Fortunately, enough of us Prescottonians can look beyond that benighted view of life, so that the surviving families have prevailed, in the courts and in every day life. A foundation has been established, to handle the most pressing long-term needs.

There is a tradition, in the firehouse, that a rookie does not step on the set of black tiles that lines the middle of the floor, until he or she has been through a major blaze. The tiles in Station 17, where the Hot Shots were housed, are now enshrined. No one steps on them.

This leads me to thinking. Years ago, my father-in-law took me aside and said, “You have had some fine experiences as a couple, already. You have not, though,as yet, been through more than a minor bump or two. That was in 1985. Since then, everyone who knows me, has witnessed the real rough patches. The years from 2003-2011 were enough for any person’s life education. I have stepped on the black tiles of my own life house. It is a humbling place, and not often a lonely one- thanks to those who have stayed as true friends.

As I stood this afternoon, on the Court House lawn, listening to the Fire Marshall offer words of respect for the fallen, the thought came that, while there is no guarantee that a fresh calamity won’t come our way, tomorrow, the sense of community that transcends even the differences of opinion,which sometime threaten to tear us asunder, will be what lifts us in a healing and forward-moving direction. Yes, love is the secret.

The Road to 65, Mile 203: Evergreen Crossings, Day 1: Anacortes

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on July 1, 2015 in Hiking and Nature, Social, Travel

June 19, 2015, Anacortes- The ferry brought me in to Bellingham, right on schedule. Taking my sick camera to a Best Buy, in nearby Burlington, for shipment off to a fix-it shop, was my first priority. While waiting for the store to open, I got some coffee and a muffin, and saw the horror we had missed, whilst aboard ship: The Charleston Massacre. I was numb, for a few minutes, then throw-the-book-at-him angry, that this should continue to happen, in the middle of 2015- the midmost heart of the second decade of the 21st Century. Thought then took over- I had just been in a fairly isolated environment, with little interaction with anyone, for nearly two days. There were, however, people of all “racial” groups aboard, and the crew was well-blended. This reflects the Alaska of 2015, which ought to, in turn, reflect the America of this same year. Yet, hearts don’t change. People hold on to the most quotidian of symbols- a gun, an outmoded flag, as if these guarantee some sort of shield from a malevolent external force. Perhaps, in a way, they do. Does that mean, however, that these symbols may be used as malevolent forces of their own- and against people who have been NOTHING BUT LOVING to the individual who now attacks them?

I had to carry on, though, and did, choosing the comforting and picturesque ferry port of Anacortes, as a place to settle for one day, and just walk about, after a comforting nap at Holiday Motel. It’s run by two of the nicest hoteliers I have encountered in the “lower 48”, though I have to say that, how I perceive people is usually how they end up being.

Anacortes has an old church, which is now for sale. Other denominations seem to be thriving, but not this Congregationalist parish. Perhaps it moved over to the west side of town.

I wandered around the east harbour, where there is a skate park, a yacht club and several container vessels. East Anacortes seems to be the more industrial part of town.

Street art seems to be everywhere, these days, and Anacortes has its fair share. There is a Music Festival coming here soon.

I visited the Performing Arts Center’s grounds, after hours, and was overjoyed to see its name.

The venue is to be very active, tomorrow. I will, however, be in Victoria, BC, for a National Aboriginal Canadians Day festival. Still, this is another very comforting thing about this little port.

Hearts come in all shapes and sizes.

They can also be complex.

I wonder if Juliet, or Rapunzel, would favour such a balcony ?

Perhaps, if her suitor were to proffer such a mix of flowers as this.

Wandering, reluctantly, away from Hearts of Anacortes, I found a gem of a different sort. The city includes a waterfront park, at the north harbour. The wharves are largely given over to disuse, and are therefore welcoming to some cormorants.

Could this pass for a dog, or an alligator? Driftwood does inspire flights of fancy.

Spying a fossil shell was a treat.

It appears Nature has her own pictographs.

There were a few other intrepid souls out, enjoying this special park. It is a good mark for a community, when it takes the best of what is placed in its midst. If I ever felt the need to leave Prescott, for another base, Anacortes would be on my short list.

The Road to 65, Mile 196: Southeast IS Northwest, Day 5 On The Water

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on June 16, 2015 in Social, Travel

June 12, 2015, Auke Bay- This waterfront community is Juneau’s northern adjunct, and a vital part of the Mendenhall Valley’s maritime tradition. This is where the ferries head in all directions, and where the major fishing marinas are.

One of the boats docked at Auke Bay is the Anna. She took six of us out to Prospect Point and Barlow Cove, then safely back, by evening.

The sturdy lady is captained by Dave P., a master fisherman and mariner in good standing.

He was assisted by Hari Dave S., a carpenter and roustabout on the high seas.

Once all were aboard, and the kids were properly life-preservered, we were off to untold adventure.

Dreamers never quit, and our dreams were of catching the limit on dungeness crab and halibut. So, we passed by the Chilkat Mountains, and Eagle Glacier.

Captain Dave was going for broke.

The girls were all set to help out.

Here, off Barlow Cove, we set two crab pots.

Then, it was off to Prospect Point, for a couple hours of the master fishermen going after halibut.

My task was simple: Kick back, relax and make sure no one fell in the water.

Sea lions provided comic relief, and a cheering, or maybe booing, section.

The runt of the litter tried to get on board. He had my sympathy.

In the end, the catch was….almost nonexistent. The girls got a hermit crab to take home as a pet. Any time with convivial people is well-spent though, and our day was indicative of so many days spent with a stick in the water. The main thing is being at sea, and knowing that one of these days, the bounty will be provided.

After getting back to Juneau, I went to an Asian restaurant, which served multiple cuisines. I stuck with the low mein, which also would stretch to another meal, in a day or so. Tomorrow will be a different sor tof adventure: A visit to Mendenhall Glacier.

The Road to 65, Mile 187: Northwestward, Day 8: Vancouver, Part 1- Kits Point and Gastown

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on June 5, 2015 in Social, Travel

June 3, 2015, Vancouver- It’s been about thirty one years since I last crossed the border into Canada. back then, it was a driver’s license, pop the trunk and howdy-do to get back and forth. Since 9/11/01, nothing is left to chance.

To be fair, I got in the NEXUS lane by mistake, and was hailed into Customs Hall, while my vehicle was searched. All officials were polite and determined I was hardly a risk. I was cautioned, though, to be prepared to offer a list of those with whom I might be visiting, next time I make a border crossing. That will be useful, as there a few people I would like to visit in BC, later this month- after returning from Alaska. I will also not go in the NEXUS line.

Driving north, I have encountered a few local traffic quirks. In Olympia, WA, for example, the turn lane out of the Capitol Campus, to get back on I-5, is the width of a bicycle lane, and not readily visible. Nonetheless, all the locals are used to it, and there was horn-honking, wailing and gnashing of teeth, when I waited for the left turn signal, whilst occupying what turned out to be the MIDDLE lane.

On BC Hwy. 99, the northward extension of I-5, it is expected that all remain locked in their lanes, and not deviate a hair’s breadth to the right or left- lest there be horn-honking, wailing and more gnashing of teeth. Vancouverites tend to honk at each other as often as southern Californians, though not as often as people in Scottsdale, Phoenix or San Juan, Puerto Rico.

I had no problems, though, in getting to the various parking garages that I used, in what turned out to be a nine hour exploration of Canada’s window on the Pacific. Most of that time, I was on foot. Navigating by car is easy. The Canadian directional signs are small, but well-placed, so as to minimize confusion. I also very much appreciate the lack of billboards.

My first walk was from South Granville to Kits Point, by way of the pedestrian underpass.

Flora of Granville Pedestrian Path

“Where are all the Canadian geese this year?” Why, they’d be up in Canada, of course.

One must use this tunnel, to get to Kits Point on foot or by bicycle. Of course, being South Granville, it’s perfectly safe by day.

This pleasant little park sets the tone for Kits Point, which is a hipster neighbourhood, not used to tourists. I had a mild, but satisfying meatball panini at Epicurean Cafe. Here, I learned that, unlike in the U. S., a patron must bring the ticket up to the counter. Servers do not act as cashiers in Vancouver, I was told.

Here, though, is a reach-out to the people of Latin America.

Canada Centre: This grand building defines downtown Vancouver.

Gastown is a heavily-trod section of downtown; in fact, it is the original European settlement of Vancouver, virtually dating from the arrival of the British.

This is the Steam Clock, which has been here almost as long as the British.

This is the Canadian Railway station, on the waterfront.

The Cenotaph, in Memorial Park, is the beginning of the East End, and the rougher part of town.

I was cautioned, when first making plans for a Vancouver stay, that the East End was not a place in which I would want to spend a night. After walking the area a bit, I can see why one would draw that conclusion. Most of the hotels in that section of East Hastings Street look a tad ragged, primarily residential. I’ve seen similar establishments in Los Angeles, Chicago, London and Paris. The street was alive, though, with people who don’t exactly have it made. I did see a lot of animated behaviour and many seemed to know one another quite well. I kept coming across an older man in a blue pinstriped shirt, walking his dog. He and I were each offered marijuana, by a top-hatted young man who was pretending to sell men’s suits. The dog-walker looked thoroughly shocked. I was non-plussed, and definitely not interested. I didn’t take any photos, as no one is to be treated as a curiosity.

A gratifying element is the Urban Garden, on the south side of the street.

My sentiments exactly. More power to them.

Back in Gastown, I was reminded of when people said I would drive to Canada, when……

Here is one last scene from the original settlement of Vancouver.

It somewhat reminds me of Yonge Street, Toronto.

In the next post, Stanley Park, and the west waterfront, will show the natural side of Vancouver.

The Road to 65, Mile 186: Northwestward, Day 7- Part 1, Olympia

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on June 3, 2015 in Social, Travel

I had been to the Capitol Complex, three years ago, but that was by night. The edifice looks just as imposing in daylight.

I drove up to Washington’s capital, from Chehalis, after enjoying a vanilla latte, bowl of oatmeal, and cranberry scone for breakfast. The last time I was in Olympia was a rush job, in between two attempts at visiting cyber-friends. Neither was available this year, so I focused on becoming more familiar with this delightful little city, at the southern tip of Puget Sound.

I get the feeling it was trying to become more familiar with me. I could swear the capitol dome was watching.

The people of Washington honour their veterans as well as anyone. This imposing sculpture spells Gratitude.

The men shown represent our troops of World War I.

The Hall of Justice evokes its counterpart in Paris.

All is not gray and staid, however.

The Capitol grounds are well-tended.

A lone fir tree stands sentinel, at the east end of the grounds.

On the far eastern end of the Capitol Complex, there is this inspiring poem.

I sought more colour, on this rather overcast day, and found it in downtown Olympia.

This is the old state Capitol, now the office of the Superintendent of Public Instruction. It was the Capitol until 1928.

The present Capitol had its eye on me, even down at the harbour!

There is a calm at the south end of Puget Sound.

I dropped in at Druid’s Nook, out of curiosity and picked up their last copy of Alice Walker’s “Hard Times Require Furious Dancing”. The proprietor and I agreed that people can come up with some very strange notions. Ms. Walker would probably concur, as well.

This is an eclectic supernatural and spiritual shop.

I spotted this spoof of “Hot Tub Time Machine”, while on the way to lunch. Hot fudge was indeed a fun part of my childhood.

Lunch, however, had to be more substantial, sooo:

Cafe Love, it was.

This little safe haven offers paninis, all manner of espresso and lattes, and vegan cupcakes. The Northwest is downright Texan, when it comes to cupcakes. It seems I’ve spotted them on every other corner, In Portland and in Olympia.

I did not stop in Seattle. It was beginning rush hour, when I passed the exit to Pike Place, and I wanted to take in at least one of the public gardens in the north Puget city of Everett. Legion Park, and Everett’s north waterfront, will take up the next post, along with the border town of Blaine.

The Road to 65, Mile 184: Northwestward, Day 5: Mount Shasta to Portland

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on June 1, 2015 in Hiking and Nature, Social, Travel

May 31, 2015, Portland- This is my third visit to the Rose City. I got here around 8:30 PM, after a marathon drive up I-5, from Mount Shasta. The day started with a light breakfast at Seven Suns Cafe, and a brisk walk. I headed north, a little after 11 A.M., after my usual reflections and writing.

My first stop was about thirty miles up the road, in the intriguing town of Yreka (wy-REE-kuh). The pronunciation is intended to distinguish this old mining town from Eureka, the former whaling port on the Lost Coast, about 100 miles west southwest and over the Coast Range.

The origins of Yreka, thus described.

Downtown Yreka, CA

Near this spot, I took a call from my former client, who was delighted to report that all was well in his new environment. This helped further set the tone for my own fine day.

This is the Franco-American Hotel Building. There was no one about, of whom I could inquire as to the flags. I imagine they may be left from Memorial Day.

Just up the street is MacGregor’s, a book and gift emporium.

Closed on Sunday, yet worthy of the title “emporium”.

Most Western towns have their Garden Club.

Yreka’s favourite son promoted freeways across California.

From his point of view, connectedness meant roads.

Two churches in the heart of downtown, are diagonal to one another.

St. Joseph’s Roman Catholic Church

St. Mark’s Episcopal Church

I bid farewell to Yreka, and to California itself, shortly thereafter. My friends in Ashland, OR were waiting.

Mount Ashland, from the the east.

I enjoyed a lovely lunch, and a two-hour conversation, with my friends, the Weahs, at their lovely garden home.

The freeway took me through plenty of beautiful mountains and valleys, past great owns like Grants Pass, Roseburg, Eugene, Corvallis and Salem. I did stop in Eugene for dinner at Empire Chinese Buffet, which I would recommend for variety and quality of the food. Nothing was overly heat-lamped, and the attendants were constantly replacing the empty pans.

Portland, though, was my destination, and having connected with one of my friends here, I settled in for the night at the downtown EconoLodge.

The Road to 65, Mile 182: Blanket Forts

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on May 30, 2015 in Social

May 29, 2015, Reno- When I was a boy, forts of all kinds were the only way to go: Tree forts, rock forts, and bedding forts (which were the bane of my mother’s existence). My last night in Reno finds me “guarding” a blanket fort, the creation of a 3-year-old, and actually very sturdy.

We all seek security, knowingly or unknowingly, every waking moment of our lives. The information age has brought the need for new kinds of fortresses. So, we make do with passwords, both fun passwords and the more mundane variety. We pick and choose who gets to see what- and I have had the discomfort of an e-mail account being hacked, a few years ago. I learned the hard way, six years ago, about computer viruses, trusting the wrong “Internet Security” outfits, which led to wiping the slate clean. Now, I maintain a high level of security online and am conscious of offline safeguards as well.

We watched a program, this evening, about predators and their teen prey. I spent the better part of my career educating children and youth about how to avoid just this sort of thing, in the aftermath of some serious depredation in the 1990’s. Now, as I have ridden around the Biggest Little City in the World, I see trusting young women holding signs, asking for assistance, having seemingly little knowledge of the sort of people who could “help” them. I can only pray for these naivetes, and talk with those who will listen, to get them to focus on building their own fortresses.

The blanket fort survived the night, and its creator slept safely, in another bedroom.

The Road to 65, Mile 181: Carson City and Karaoke

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on May 30, 2015 in Social, Travel

May 28, 2015, Carson City– I am not graced with a melodic singing voice, and dancing came to me only after a lot of practice. Today would be capped by my artistic Washoe County extended family members, dancing (3-year-old ballerina) and singing (professional disc jockey).

We headed out for Carson City a bit before noon, the eventual goal being to watch a pre-school graduation, with several dances and Nursery Rhyme skits. First up, though, was a visit to one of downtown Carson’s neat eateries- Comma Coffee. It is just down the road from the St. Charles Hotel, on Carson Street. The Ferkin & Fox Company now owns the St. Charles Hotel.

Comma Coffee is home to a rather spooky group.

The walls reflect 150 years’ worth of memorabilia.

The “performers” prefer to hang loose.

Carson City’s beginnings, rooted in the days of the Pony Express, are commemorated in front of another cafe.

We spent a half hour or so walking around the State Capitol District, the heart of Nevada’s capital city.

This is one of three buildings used by the Attorney-General of Nevada.

West of the AG’s complex is the Donald W. Reynolds Press Center, of the Nevada Press Association.

Uptown from the complex is the Nevada Commission on Tourism, in one of Carson City’s oldest buildings.

We then sauntered over to the grounds of the Capitol itself.

This statue honours Nevada’s miners, a collective mainstay of the state’s economy.

The state has seen its law officers more at risk, as the population has grown so rapidly, in the past thirty years.

There are several other statues on the Capitol grounds. There are also more than two dozen types of flowers.

We took a short break in late afternoon at LA Bakery, another fine little cafe, in the West Side Historic District. It is owned by some Persian-Americans.

My affinity for bonsai was satisfied by this little gem, in the dining room of LA.

My mom had a Ming-style bonsai, in our parlour, for over forty years.

The Stewart-Nye House was home to a Nevada governor, James W. Nye, in the last years of the Nevada Territory. Mr. Nye, and his predecessor in the house, William M. Stewart, became Nevada’s first U.S. Senators. The house now is the site of a law office.

The Pre-School ceremony was held in a former Catholic church, now a Performance Hall, ironically called the Brewery Arts Center.

The children did an admirable job, with the various songs, dances and skits set before them by the veteran Pre-School Director. Our youngest generation is up to reaching the bar. My Reno extended family’s youngest member did her part in the dance, and made us all proud.

We headed back up to Reno afterward, and enjoyed an hour’s worth of karaoke, with thin-crust loaded pizza on special, at Uncle Vinny’s Pizza. My host, Steve, was the DJ at the event, and it featured five melody masters, each doing their covers proud. Of course, in keeping with my policy, no personal photos are posted here.

It was a fabulous day, and my Nissan is close to being roadworthy once again.

The Road to 65, Mile 180: Two Gardens, Two Riverwalks- Part 2

Posted by Sagittarian Seeker on May 29, 2015 in Social, Travel

May 27, 2015, Reno- The atmosphere in downtown Reno, and along the Riverwalk, is changing. The gentry have arrived, thanks to banks and high mortgages, leading to higher rents, leading to artisans moving out. Gentrification here, as in so many other places, means condos, retro plastic furniture and limits on public parking. At least near the Riverwalk, that limit is two hours, free.

A friend referred to Reno as being on the edge between mountains and desert. Indeed, this is the case. I have felt myself being on several edges, simultaneously, this week. It’s not an uncomfortable feeling, mind you, but one which rewards alacrity. Let’s see: Cold has been followed by heat; rain, by bright sunshine; near-collapse of personal transport, by active efforts at repair of same.

This brings me back to the Riverwalk. Several cities have emulated Le Promenade de la Seine, with San Antonio and Sacramento being the most prominent, here in North America. Reno’s Riverwalk takes in the banks of the Truckee. There are cataracts, narrow sluices and old stone bridges on which to focus. The water is turgid, brown, and, at present, shallow. Kayaks have run aground here, this year. As I said, earlier, so have a few iconic artisan shops. Dreamer’s, where we eventually enjoyed iced beverages, has moved further downtown, into Reno Center. Another, once comfortable, gathering spot has replaced a detailed mural with one that is more generic, and its big comfy chairs have given way to small, pea-green plastic seats, that remind me of the East Coast in the early Seventies.

Nonetheless, a Riverwalk is a Riverwalk, and there are places worthy of seeing here.

This is an eastward view of the Truckee. The old bridge is due to be torn down and replaced, soon.

Cataracts lead to swimmers jumping in the deeper spots, during Reno’s July Arts Festival.

This bridge, in mid-Riverwalk, seems to be the most popular crossing.

The oldest church in Reno, First United Mehtodist, dating from the 1860’s, lies north of the river.

We moved towards downtown, after a quick walking survey of shops revealed trends which disappointed my host, a long-time resident.

Outwardly, Reno has changed little, since I was first here, in 1980.

We found the new Dreamer’s Coffee House, and enjoyed iced lattes.

I know, I need to engage my zoom lens- and I have, since- just not here.

Whilst gazing upon the Truckee, my thoughts went back to La Seine, and to the Riverwalk of San Antonio. The last has endured some bumps, over the past five days, with its river rising and falling- and possibly rising again this coming weekend. My heart is with San Antonio and its sister communities, across the land of the Lone Star.

In the end, though, there is this truism:

I have my good points, as a man, but coffee- Yes, it brings us all up to speed.

	Sagittarian Seeker on The Hana Chronicles: Month 8,…
	slmret on The Hana Chronicles: Month 8,…
	Sagittarian Seeker on The Hana Chronicles: Month 8,…
	slmret on The Hana Chronicles: Month 8,…
	Sagittarian Seeker on The Hana Chronicles: Month 8,…

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