Category Archives: Travel

What’s The Point?

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Posted by on in animal and plant life, Assistance, collaborating, Community, Hiking and Nature, Historical, impediments, Personal Values, Social, Striving, Travel

August 22, 2023- The robust cat sat in my carport, right by the hatchback, and looked at me, as if tho say: “Have you thought this through? Are you sure you want to go up to the South Rim?” It was raining lightly, which was one reason why the cat was sitting in that dry spot. I had, however, looked at the weather forecast for Grand Canyon, and saw PC (partly cloudy).

So, northward I went. Stopping at my Williams favourite, Brewed Awakenings, I fueled up with a Light Wrap and coffee, then headed up to the Park, an hour away from downtown Williams. The first hour or so of my shuttle bus ride/walk was quite pleasant. I took these shots of the Bright Angel Trail, from Trailview Point, just to the west of the Bright Angel.

Bright Angel Trail, seen from the west.
More of the Bright Angel Trail, from the west.
Approaching rain, from Trailview Point

I got back on the shuttle bus and headed to Hopi Point, from where I planned to walk back towards the JW Powell Memorial and Maricopa Point. I got in these shots at Hopi.

Hopi Point and the Colorado River below.
Approaching storm, from Hopi Point

I walked the short distance from Hopi Point to the Powell Memorial. It was then that lightning flashed in the east, a bus driver told me that we would all be evacuated from the Hermit Sector (the near west segment of the Rim Trail, which I had planned to explore in its entirety) and I found a spot to wait for an empty bus, as his was full. In about ten minutes, one arrived and took a bunch of us back to the transfer station. I went into Bright Angel Lodge and had a leisurely lunch, then returned to the transfer point and waited with about sixty other people, for the lightning danger to abate.

After about forty minutes, the storm was judged to have let up, and we went back towards Hermits Rest. I got off at Maricopa Point, walking about 200 yards, to these scenes.

Trailview Point, from Maricopa Point
Colorado River, from Maricopa Point
The defunct Orphan Mine (copper and uranium) was just below Maricopa Point. It is marked by this memorial.

As it was still not raining again, yet, I walked the .9 miles from Maricopa to Powell Memorial.

Plaque memorializing John Wesley Powell, first American navigator of the Colorado River, in the Grand Canyon.
View of canyon, from Powell Point

Once I got this shot off, the rain began to return, and we were evacuated a second time. I commiserated with the shuttle driver, as it must be quite frustrating to have to repeat an evacuation, only an hour after the first one was lifted. Needless to say, it was time to head for the car and towards home base.

There was a slight hitch in that, as well. The road back to Williams goes through Tusayan, and that little tourist village was flooded. The county sheriff had a road block up, which put those staying in Tusayan, Valle or Williams-or who were scheduled to fly out of Grand Canyon Airport, in a bit of a pickle. For me, it meant driving back by way of Cameron and Flagstaff, which I did. On the way to Cameron, I saw one thing we on the Hermit Sector missed: A huge pile of hail had remnants at roadside, from Mather Point, east to Desert View.

Let it not be said that this year’s monsoon was a total bust.

Agency Honouring

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, distraction issues, impediments, Inspiration, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Striving, Travel

August 18, 2023- A world famous entrepreneur and television host walked into a Red Cross shelter-with a full camera crew and other members of the entourage. The shelter manager informed one and all that no filming or recording was allowed inside dormitory area of the shelter. This is standard procedure for ARC shelters. The crew and most of the others left, but the famous person stayed and distributed items that she had brought along. The performative element of the visit was foregone, with no real damage to the agency of either the donor or the shelter clients.

Personal agency is, as I have said earlier, a most important thing to honour. So, for that matter, is collective agency, that which acknowledges the integrity of a community of people. I am not threatened by the presence of anyone who identifies as gay, bisexual, questioning. I am not threatened the presence of a transgender person. Conversely, I am not threatened by the presence of a conservative, fundamentalist, traditionalist human being. I know who I am, and not being influenced by someone whose life experiences are different from mine, honouring their agency and their humanity is not at all difficult.

Honouring a community is, likewise, not difficult. Having lived and worked with Dineh, Hopi, Korean and Vietnamese people helped me see things from a wider perspective. Visiting with people in all fifty states and D.C, all ten Canadian provinces and thirteen other countries has only expanded that perspective further. Community involvement, here in my community of residence, is the cement that reinforces respect for individual and collective agency, day to day.

These thoughts come to me, after a short postmortem on the recent “Copper 2 Gold” series of discussions on overcoming one’s lingering prejudices, particularly with regard to relationships with People of Colour. There is a legacy left by colonialism, and by the individual and collective sense of superiority that spurred that colonialism, in the first place. It doesn’t require a system that is identified by a colloquialism from the dialect of enslaved people (“woke”) to correct its excesses, but it certainly needs every single person to examine his/her lingering misconceptions and prejudices, and to do so earnestly.

The Bottom of The Top

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Hiking and Nature, Inspiration, Personal goals, Personal Values, Social, Striving, Travel

August 16, 2023- As a five-time hiker of the Grand Canyon’s Bright Angel Trail, from rim to river and back, I can attest that there is no appreciation of the bottom, without the top, and vice versa.

This afternoon, I completed reading “PrairyErth”, William Least Heat Moon’s “sequel” to his account of a back roads ramble around the United States, entitled “Blue Highways”. The latter took in travels through 38 states. The former concentrated on one county, in Kansas, which was one of the ten contiguous states he didn’t visit the first time. Mr. Least Heat Moon’s style is consistent, covering all bases of an area, telling anecdotes of his encounters with Man and Nature, weaving details of history, sociology, biology and geology into each chapter-in both books. The micro reflects the macro.

The writer, named for his having been born during a New Moon, entered the words of this post’s title, in the final chapter of “PrairyErth”, in the course of describing a walk which he and a friend took, tracing as best they could the route taken by the Kansa (Kaw) people, when those who gave their name to the state were removed to Oklahoma, in 1872.

He christened the base of a small, but steep, hill in the west of Chase County, as “the bottom of the top”, and thus connected beginning with end, east with west, north with south. Stephen Covey, many years ago, did the same in his life coaching book, “The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People”: “See the end in the beginning”.

Continuity and connection have been essential in my own approach to life, for at least forty years-and probably longer, on a subliminal level. Leaving someone out, not seeing a task through to its completion or omitting a detail have been foreign to my thinking, often to an extent that has been maddening to those around me-and sometimes to me, as well. Dr. Covey’s book helped, in teaching that planning things ahead of time can help enormously, with regard to remembering details-and so I have made that second nature-at least in the past fifteen years.

The first part of anything signals the nature of the last. The bottom is essential to the top. The converse of these is also true.

Dribs and Drabs

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, distraction issues, impediments, Inspiration, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Striving, Travel

August 15, 2023- Back when I was working as a grocery bagger and cart gatherer, in the awkward days of high school, the man who was probably the best boss I have had, to this day, had a by-phrase: “Use your squash!” I had him banging his head on the wall more than once, but after a fashion, that advice stuck, and it has been applied in a variety of situations.

I read of several ongoing events and processes today, and this being a quiet day in the neighbourhood, devote this post to the scattershot responses to two very different ongoing concerns.

The careful search for victims of the Maui fires, especially in Lahaina, continues, with the death toll at 99 and 1300 people counted missing. As this goes on, reports are surfacing that there are efforts being made to snap-up property in the fire zone. This should, at the very least, be shot down by the current property owners. It would be best if the Hawai’i Legislature, or Congress, passes legislation that installs an indefinite moratorium on any such transactions. Snap-up culture, in general, is tawdry and disgusting. In cases like this one, involving what may well become hallowed ground, it is far, far out of line.

The other aspect of the tragedy, the behaviour of tourists, bears mentioning. In 2014, when I was in Europe, I had to learn from mistakes and file the lessons under “Do not repeat”. Later that year, in Honolulu, it came to mind that Hawaiian people have said, repeatedly, that they are getting tired of pushy, inconsiderate people from the mainland-and elsewhere. It was a brief visit to Honolulu, but my manners were intact.

It seems that some visitors, whether out of boredom, convention or sheer ego, have disrespected the people of Maui, in recent days. Perhaps they can reach back to times when they have been in mourning. That is what is going on in Maui, and across the island chain. When one visits a place, even if spending a tidy sum, there is nothing that says basic decency should be cast aside.

Finally, the debate over whether the 19 people who were indicted for interfering with the Georgia vote count, in the 2020 election, is finding those opposed to the indictments are missing one thing: Nineteen people, not just one, are up on charges. That takes extra time, so yes, it is correct for the DA to file the charges now-for what is likely a trial that won’t happen until early 2025. The comparison to the Federal charges against 3 people, in one set, and one person, in the other set, is a matter of apples and oranges. I also remind one and all that no one is seeking a star chamber proceeding. Each person charged has the right to a fair trial-innocent until proven guilty-in a court of law, not a scrum of public opinion.

Decency-it’s what’s on the menu of personal behaviour. Use your squash!

Not Beaten by The Heat

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, Hiking and Nature, Historical, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Striving, Travel

August 13, 2023– The water shimmered and there were a couple of families overlooking the lake, at Site Six, where there is a replica of Split Rock Lighthouse, which commemorates the sinking of the Edmund Fitzgerald, each November 10. The vessel sank into Lake Superior, in an early gale, on that date, in 1975, and all on board drowned.

This was one of those unexpected tragedies that, in today’s world, might have generated a host of conspiracy theories, but was simply the result of a natural event that occurred out of its “usual” season. This is something to keep in mind, as the tales of state terrorism begin to find their way into the media (and they are already surfacing), with regard to Maui.

Let’s get back to reality, though. It was 109 F outside, as I took ten minutes each, at two locations along Lake Havasu’s eastern shore, to look things over, for the first time since 2011. After taking a photo of a Mexican family, at their request, I got a few shots of the lake, at Site Six. (Each of the boat launches in Lake Havasu State Park are numbered.)

Site Five, from Site Six, Lake Havasu State Park
Jet skier, off Site Six, Lake Havasu State Park
View of Havasu Lake, CA, the seat of the Chemehuevi Nation.
Split Rock Lighthouse replica, Site Six, Lake Havasu State Park

Having kept myself sunscreened and my head & neck covered, it was time to find a parking spot, near London Bridge, walk down to English Village and enjoy a bit of ice cream. The bridge was brought here in sections, by the founder of Lake Havasu City, Robert McCulloch, a power tool executive, between 1968 and 1971. It consists today of the original masonry of the 1830 version of London Bridge, reinforced in concrete.

View of balustrade along London Bridge, Lake Havasu City
London Bridge, Lake Havasu City
Southwestern Arch, London Bridge, Lake Havasu City
Base of southwestern arch, London Bridge, Lake Havasu City

Having spent a total of fifteen minutes in the heat, divided into two segments, I finished the small salted caramel cone and headed back towards Home Base. Traffic was light, and I briefly considered stopping at Seligman, either for a short nap on the side of the road, an early light supper at Westside Lilo’s, or both. Spotting three men carrying a gas can, along the side of the offramp, I opted for neither one. One of the men went with me to a gas station, filled the can, and was transported back to the vehicle with the empty tank. I drove the rest of the way to Prescott, feeling no need for either a snooze or a meal along the way. I got both, once back in the apartment.

Lake Havasu seldom, if ever, gets unruly. Its large and beautiful counterparts in the Upper Midwest and central Canada, though, have a different story to tell.

An Eclectic Gathering

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Entertainment, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Social, Striving, Travel

August 12, 2023, Lake Havasu City- The ebullient young man practically burst through the front door, carrying his crock pot full of macaroni with three cheeses-his contribution to the festive birthday gathering. I took a spoonful and can attest that it is among the best “mac and cheese” I’ve ever had, and told him so, which made his effusiveness that much keener.

I came to this city that exists almost in isolation from the rest of Arizona, with wilderness as its California neighbour, to attend a friend’s 31st birthday. Arriving at 6 p.m. made the most sense, given the two activities to which I needed to attend earlier, back in Prescott. It also made sense, temperature wise: Lake Havasu City sits squarely in the western sector of the Sonoran Desert, and temperatures here have hit close to 120 F-as recently as last month. It was 102, when I arrived at the party site, where I am also spending the night.

I knew only three people, the birthday celebrant and his father, who live at the party location, and a friend from Bullhead City, 1 1/2 hours north northwest of here, when I first arrived. I still would characterize most of the rest of the crowd as pleasant acquaintances, as I came to know very little about them, but this does rank among the most convivial of gatherings, in recent memory. The conversations ranged from Lahaina- on nearly everyone’s mind, these days, to a guest’s unusual medical condition and another guest’s recent loss of a loved one. The common thread, though, was the deep concern people have for one another. No one who expressed a personal issue or health concern had it glossed over, by the group.

Here were several workers from the local hospice, stay-at-home mothers, teachers, gym attendants, an architect, two high school students, a retired surfer, a deep sea fisherman (also retired, given the fact that the water here is in a fresh-water lake, and it’s a long way to his former haunts in Sitka, AK) and a couple of ten-year old boys, who were mostly focused on the video game that was on the wide screen in front of them. The high schoolers were the mac and cheese chef and his girlfriend, who served delectable soft chocolate chip cookies. “She’s a fabulous baker!”, boyfriend proudly crowed. I would agree that that the two of them have a fine future ahead, in the culinary arts.

So went the evening, and one of my rare summer forays into the Sonoran realm. With reliable air conditioning, in both Sportage and this house, being out in the warm desert evening air was actually pleasant. Tomorrow, I will stay here long enough to host a late-morning Zoom call, then head back towards Home Base, and stay tuned for what the week shall bring.

A Dozen Years

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, Education, Family, impediments, Inner Struggles, Personal goals, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Striving, Travel

August 11, 2023- On this date, in 2011, I posted a short, tentative introductory post, inaugurating this site. It was at a difficult time in life. My wife of twenty-nine years had been gone five months. I was feeling isolated from many people, and was feeling pressured by others, to do what they thought was best for me, going forward. I ended up “going dark”, for the most part, until the following January.

A dozen years later, I’m still very much here, and no longer feeling besieged, either by my own demons or by others’ expectations. So, I want to take a look back, at some of the things that I did right, during each of these years.

2011- It was an honour to help my in-laws, providing food for them, over a two-week period, when they were laid up and unable to prepare their own meals. I also re-connected with my father’s older brother, in Colorado.

2012- Some of the places that Penny and I had wanted to visit together, I was able to reach-with her spirit very close at hand: San Francisco’s Baha’i Center; the Redwoods, both coastal and interior; the Oregon Coast; the Portland Rose Gardens; Neah Bay and Cape Flattery, WA; Seattle.

2013- I was able to attend a “Sail Blind” event, in which my second-eldest brother was participating.

2014- Attended the 70th Anniversary of D-Day observance, at Utah Beach, and visited the site of my father-in-law’s World War II imprisonment,in Berga, Germany- both in his memory.

2015- Made it to southeast Alaska, which we had also hoped to visit as a couple.

2016- Overcame a lot of self-doubt and took on a job that involved helping other autistic people. With considerable help, replaced the broken-down vehicle that I had bought on the cheap, two years ago.

2017- Kept at my final full time job; had a smooth drive, to and from New England.

2018- Faced down a very powerful negative force.

2019- Survived a physical attack; made the decision to move into semi-retirement. Went to Korea and attended Aram’s and Yunhee’s wedding.

2020- Worked the floor, twice, during the height of COVID-19, at Red Cross storm shelters, in Louisiana and Texas.

2021- Drove to and from Massachusetts, twice, to assist with Mom’s move and the clearing of our former family home.

2022- Traveled to Newfoundland and Cape Breton, fulfilling another of our couple dreams. Bought a vehicle on my own, this time in a proper manner.

2023- Made a concerted effort to reduce my weight-and succeeded. Visited a few friends,in the Pacific Northwest, who had felt isolated during the long night of COVID-19. There are two long journeys, at least, left in this year. I say “at least”, because there is no telling what will be asked of any of us, by the Red Cross-with regard to Maui.

In any event, my psyche is in so much better a place, after twelve years of self-responsibility.

A Not-So-Lonely Highway

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, distraction issues, impediments, Inspiration, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Striving, Travel

July 29, 2023- A solitary man, either befuddled by the heat or determined to stand his ground, stood squarely in the path of my slowly-moving Kia, as I approached a rest room, at the more aptly named than usual Area 51 Alien Center. The heat, and an approaching full moon, seemed to have brought more unusual behaviour than I’ve seen, over the past eleven years, in that little settlement of Amargosa Springs. I felt badly for the two ladies who were staffing the Alien Center’s store.

The man in question moved along, when I simply turned right and found a parking spot away from the rest room. When I drove across the street, to the Alien Center’s parking lot, he blocked my way with his car, so once more, I turned right and simply found a space that was not in “his zone”. He drove off without any further ado.

The drive down from Carson City was itself quite smooth. I left a bit later than planned, as my help was needed with an online Zoom call, which was best done from the motel room. Breakfast to go sufficed my LA Bakery fix, for this visit. (That establishment, and Red Hut, are my must stops in Carson.) Stopping briefly in Yerington, an hour to the south, I found another favourite, Blanhir’s Bakery, was closed-odd for a Saturday noon. Oh, well, down through Schurz, Hawthorne and Mina, towards Tonopah, it was. A brief rest stop at Luning, just north of Mina, provided an opportunity for service and let’s just say, I fixed a problem that had been left to sit , by earlier visitors. I’m sure the trucker who came by, just as I was leaving, appreciated the problem-free rest room.

Beans and Brews, in Tonopah, is mostly staffed by local teens, so it has been a must-stop, when going to and from Carson City or Reno. As usual, the counter person was energetic and quick to fill my small order. The lady at the adjacent convenience counter, on the other hand, looked like she was melting in the heat. I wished them both a fine afternoon, and went on-past Goldfield, which still does not have the truck stop that’s been in the works for over a year. I think the earth-moving equipment is in the same place it was, last November. Passing through Beatty, and stopping for a quick supper in Amargosa Springs, I encountered the above-mentioned individual-and a worker from the brothel next door, who didn’t bother me, but looked like she needed a good long rest.

What happens in Las Vegas is best left there-but I found reasonable gas, at a station that had been sending patrons to the nearby Wendy’s, for restroom use. Wendy’s, unbeknownst to the station attendants, has closed. I let them know that state of affairs. Fortunately there is a huge shopping mall across the road. An iced coffee from Panera Bread addressed two needs, and I was again on my way, in short order.

Four hours and twenty minutes later, another journey was in the books. It helped me confront a few remaining personal baggage items, without any faux pas, which leaves me with a nice feeling. Thank you, to all in California, Oregon, Washington, British Columbia and Nevada. This was a truly nice two weeks-even through the heat.

A Mountain Route Towards Second Home

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, Hiking and Nature, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

July 27, 2023, Carson City- One of my favourite chain eateries, of which there are few, is Black Bear Diner, which started in the city of Mount Shasta, CA, in 1995, and has now expanded throughout the western half of the U.S.

It was at Grants Pass’s Black Bear that my day got revved up. The counter crew, like crews in most restaurants, are a well-working team. A lovely, perky young lady at the register told me it was her first day-and I noticed that the rest of the crew was solicitous and helpful towards her. She is likely to have a good run there. The food was excellent, as always.

Mount Shasta itself was prominent during the first part of my drive towards Carson City. A first time visitor to the area stopped at the western vista point, off I-5, just after I got there and asked what mountain that was. She proceeded to take several snaps of the peak, from different vantage points. I was happy taking one, from there.

About an hour later, heading towards Reno, on the Lassen Highway, I stopped at another “Vista Point”, to find that Mount Shasta was pretty much hidden from view by the tall pines. Lifting a bit of litter from the stop, because Mount Shasta is just majestic and doesn’t need our trash in view, even from thirty miles away.

Mount Shasta peeks through the pines, taken from the south.

There was no time to make a stop at Lassen peak that would have done it any justice, so I turned left towards Susanville and Reno. The damage done to the forests on Mount Lassen’s northern and western flanks, and in the mountains near Susanville, is heart-wrenching to see. Thankfully, fire has spared this area so far this year, but it’s unfortunately very early yet. In the intermediate future, one of my sojourns will entail a three-day stay in one of the cabins at Lassen Volcanic National Park.

In my heart, with Prescott my primary Home Base, there are several others-Carson City chief among them, that very much feel like home. That’s as it should be. I settled into the small America’s Best Value here, and spent about two hours visiting with Michele, very much like a sister, at Betsy’s Big Kitchen, a rather nice in-casino establishment, serving sizable portions of fine comfort food.

My main reason for being here will happen tomorrow, as a Munchkin takes the stage.

Denial Gets A Comeuppance

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, distraction issues, Hiking and Nature, Historical, impediments, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

July 26, 2023, Grants Pass, OR-

I was told, some time ago, that the homeless community along Washington State’s southern tier had been removed, by sending the lot across the Columbia River, to Portland. Being skeptical that this is even something that could be pulled off, without a whimper from a city that was already choking with a large unhoused community in its downtown and other neighbourhoods, the last time I visited (2015), I went to Vancouver (WA) this morning, after checking out of the motel in Kelso.

Vancouver, not to be confused with the much-larger city in British Columbia, has a lovely park along the Columbia River, and pleasant, clean downtown and uptown sections. It also has the manicured Fort Vancouver, a well-maintained National Park site, whose historic homes are leased to residents and businesses. Living wherever they can put up tents, usually in nooks and crannies along the Columbia, are the remnants of the unhoused community, admittedly smaller than those of Portland, Seattle or Tacoma, but in Vancouver, nonetheless. Denial of a problem will never make it go away. Whoever passed that information along to people down at my Home Base, in Prescott had probably not been to Vancouver.

I took a walking loop to the banks of the Columbia, then around to Esther Short Park, after first enjoying a vanilla latte at Brewed, a small, but efficient coffee shop, combined with a bar and small bakery, on Main Street. Not far from Brewed, there is a parking lot with murals on two of the walls.

The Skagit, Yamhill, and other nations, have not lost their dignity.
Nor, for that matter, have the Hispanics who come here for agricultural work.
The African-American community here seems small, but holds its own.
Columbia River, at I-5 Bridge, Vancouver.
“Boat of Discovery”, commemorating the visit here, by Captain George Vancouver’s fleet.
A long wall emanates from this plaza, honouring veterans of all “foreign” conflicts, from the War of 1812 to Iraq and Afghanistan.
Clock Tower, Esther Short Park. The park was being readied for a special event, when I happened by.

Having a couple of errands to do, across the river, I gave myself an hour to explore Fort Vancouver. The post was established to safeguard U.S. control of the mouth of the Columbia River-with .British, Russian and Spanish claims not fully resolved.

Here is the flag staff, in the midst of the parade ground.
This was a serious parade ground!
Grant House, intended for use by Ulysses S. Grant, when he was stationed here, in the 1850s. He never lived in this mansion, on Officers’ Row.
Here is a view of the Enlisted Barracks, south of the Parade Grounds.
These cannons were replicated, from descriptions of the originals, by local high school students, from 1990-92. They are owned by the City of Vancouver, which supplied the materials.
This was the residence of General O.O. Howard, the post commander from 1874-80.
The Artillery Barracks-It struck me that this could house a lot of people.
Non-commissioned Officer’s Housing
Marshall House, home to General George C. Marshall, during his duty here, prior to World War II.

This pavilion honours the Chinese diaspora to Oregon and Washington. Chinese immigrants faced horrific treatment in the Pacific Northwest, during the late Nineteenth, and much of the Twentieth, Centuries.

After leaving Vancouver, I made my way across the bridge to Portland, getting my Pastini fix, with a late lunch at the Italian food chain’s Northeast Portland branch. Then, it was time to locate and purchase a new adapter, to house my photo SIM card and post these and other scenes. It took me all over North Portland. At one point, I stopped in front of a crosswalk, so that a young lady could cross. One would have thought I had held up the President, for the insistent beeping from behind me. The lady shot a dignified, but definitely disapproving, glance at the impatient motorist and gave me a gentle smile.

The shop I eventually found was a Best Buy, on the far northeast side. Its location afforded a fairly lightly-trafficked way out of Portland, so I missed all but a small amount of rush hour. Still ahead, however, was the large influx of participants, family members and spectators at the Junior Olympics, which I learned was being held in Eugene, Springfield, Albany, Corvallis and Roseburg. All of those cities’ accommodations were either occupied or were priced exorbitantly by the Law of Supply and Demand. After gassing up in Eugene, I made my way down to Grants Pass, and got a reasonably-priced overflow room. My last thoughts of the day, though, are wishes for the kids to be successful at their sport-and more importantly, to have a good experience.