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Motorcycle Stories and Other Assorted Tales
by C. C. Crow
O Scale West - The Real Story
I know, I know, what makes us think you are going to believe this
story after our Corvallis or Bust story turned out to be a little
"enhanced"? Well, what reason would we have for lying to you now?
There's no reason at all. So here's what we really did.
My brother Phil and his wife Janet flew out from Richmond to
Seattle. She had a business meeting in Portland and Phil came along
to burn some of his vacation time he had accumulated. Their daughter
Susan's "priceless possessions" were put on a moving van and traveled
we'll assume uneventfully, thought funny, they were reportedly delayed
by an ice storm on Super Bowl Sunday, but arrived safely at Susan's
new home in Corvallis, Oregon. Phil and Janet split the week between
her work, visiting our relatives in Portland, helping Susan get the
house set up, sight-seeing and coming back up to visit us in Seattle.
As long as Phil was coming out here I talked Phil into traveling
down with me to California to visit our Aunt Audrey and go to O-Scale
West, a model railroad meet in the Bay Area President's Weekend, a
most welcome relief from the mid-winter boredom of NW rainlife.
2-10 SUN
The alarm rings at 4:15 a.m. or something like that. I get to ignore it.
But poor Phil has to jump in the car and take his wife Janet to the
airport. Susan, their daughter who came up for the weekend, rides along.
I get up and wave good-bye but fall back asleep with a small smile. I'll
get my chance in two week when Phil takes the same flight home.
Upon their return and breakfast, we pack the car, full, with all our
stuff plus Susan's, plus her laundry, plus her flowers, plants and "the stick"
she bought at the flower show. There's still enough room for us, right?
Off we go. Susan likes trains. Doesn't she? See, here's on in South
Tacoma. And more in Vancouver. She liked the depot.
We could spend days getting to Corvallis if we stopped to look at all
the trains between here and there but I take mercy on them and leave it
at those two "train" stops.
We drop Susan off in Corvallis at her little apartment, really just
room enough for one small graduate student, a few "priceless possessions"
and a few house plants. We think she was happy for us to go after a beer.
We talked her out of half her pistachios too, and promised to come by on
our way back and take her to the Thai restaurant.
Jetting south on I-5 we clicked off the miles. If we pushed forward
we figured we could do the California Railroad Museum in Sacramento
tomorrow and gain a side trip to somewhere, maybe the mountains, Yosemite,
or maybe King's Canyon and The Giant Sequoias, or something like that. So
on we pushed, stopping in Grants Pass for our choice of fast foods. In
the dark we climbed and passed over the Siskiyous, noting that only a few
days before that would have been treacherous due to snow.
California. We stop in Yreka and look for our first hotel. We don't
need anything fancy, just something neat and fairly clean for the night.
Preferring an old Mom and Pop place over the chains we choose the Wayside
Inn, an old ranch style motel. "Forty-two bucks!?!" How come the signs
on your competition say $28-29? That much more for a double? Well, we're
here, so we sign in.
The room is ice cold. Neat, and if you didn't look too close, it was
clean enough. After we brought our stuff in and used the toilet, we clicked
on the TV and ran through the five channels looking for the Winter Olympics.
Winter Olympics, you know, those things that only happen ever four years.
Click, click, click. No Olympics. Whadda mean no Olympics? I cried uselessly.
Apparently we had rolled over the edge of the Earth. For some reason there
was no NBC in Yreka, at least on our TV, in our ice cold room in the Wayside
Inn. We watched some dumb movie or something.
About 3 a.m. the room finally got up to temperature and Phil turned off
the non-automatic heater fan that was keeping us both awake. Whadda ya want
for $42?
2-11 MON
We treated ourselves to breakfast at McDonalds. They had a free newspaper
and everything. Phil was impressed by Mt. Shasta. It's sort of hard to miss
as the highway points right at it and just turns at its base. We stopped and
took a few artsie photographs of it. I swear it looked a lot better in person.
I remember I was very impressed with it the first time I saw it too.
We continued heading down and stopped in Dunsmuir looking for trains.
back in the good old days there were tons of them, today sadly there are few.
We found an old steamer fenced into the park, and heard one moving around
but it never made it up to the depot in town where we were waiting. After
looking around without any action we continued on.
Crossing over Lake Shasta was exciting as the bridge combines the highway
over top the railroad tracks which we time perfectly crossing it at the
same moment as a train. Where'd he go? Into a tunnel or something. We circled
around and inspected it for the marina. Pretty cool engineering feat we
agreed. Better get moving if we are going to make it to the RR museum.
We stopped once for gas and Taco Bell, and finally head it into Sacramento
for about an hour and a half in the museum. It's most impressive and highly
recommended. We could have used a little more time but browsed most of it. At
5 p.m. they threw us out so we explored Old Towne, an interesting bunch of old
buildings, many masonry, and less interesting to us, tourist shops and restaurants.
At dusk we continued south, crossing Stockton noting the strong odor of its
namesake. Wow, Phil kept saying... Woe!
We started looking for something to eat just when the choices disappeared.
Finally after another twenty minutes we were in the outskirts of somewhere, got
off and searched for something inviting. We circled a mall or something. There
was lots of traffic, bright lights and nothing really inviting. So, what do you
want to do? we wondered as we waited at a light. I noticed a neon light and a
simple small sign for JADE GARDEN across the way in a strip mall. There, perfect,
a little hole in the wall Chinese place, just what we wanted. I meant the meal
was okay but it cost us $36. Thirty-six bucks!?! We were on a budget. That's like
a week's lunches at McDonalds. How'd that happen? $8.99 for two entries, another
nine for soup, four bucks for rice and each cup of tea she kept bringing costs
another $1.50, for a little cup of tea. No wonder she was smiling, and the
place was nearly empty.
There are half a dozen choices in the special coupon book we had picked up
this morning for cheap hotels in the Fresno area. We should have been tipped of
by the bars on the window of the gas station or the scantily clad women walking
the street on some sort of mission. No, not that one. Maybe that one. Or okay,
how about this one? Yeah, it's in the coupon book, $44 double. After gassing up
at the conveyance store we circle back and check in. First, a we have a question,
yes, the have NBC. Okay. It was decent enough. A little noisy from the highway
and odd things going on outside, but no gun shots, and soft enough beds, though
in the morning we noticed more "things" on the wall, and floors. Exactly what
we don't know, or want to know. We just checked out and got on our way.
2-12 TUE
We drive around in circles downtown Fresno, finally we figure out the grid
and start moving east eventually picking up Rt. 180 towards the mountains.
Another cheap breakfast, erp, at MacDee's. Yum. It's a pretty drive out,
through the endless groves. We're tempted to pick a few oranges of our own.
Slowly the road begins to wind up and down, then mostly up. It would be fun
on a bike. It's another beautiful day in sunny California. We stop at an overlook
and enjoy the view of many many ridges in the distance to the south. We're really
climbing up now, into Kings Canyon National Park. I take a turnout to go see
some lake. Only there are big signs, stop, go back, trespassers will be shot,
and friendly stuff like that. Well, why'd the put a sign at the turnoff then?
As I'm turning around sharp, I'm thinking the brake must be on, or, I don't
know, it's like there is no power. A bad feeling rises through my body. Oh no,
this can't be happening. The torque converter is going out on us. We can still
move, in fact I'm not even really sure if it is happening or not. At Wilsonia,
we check out the visitor's center. And then I tell Phil about what I think is
happening. Run back to Fresno and have it checked out? Call a tow truck? Dump
it in the woods and start hitch-hiking? I knew we should have brought the
orange car but Phil had insisted we take Dad's Lumina. Now what do we do?
After reading the owners manual and noting it had just passed the 50,000
mile drive train warrantee we decided we should at least drive a couple miles
down to see the General Grant Tree, the largest living organism in the world.
It was more than impressive. I especially like the orange bark on these trees.
We walked around the grove and admired these great trees.
The moment of truth came as we returned to the car. Phil drove it back up
the hill. With a jump on the gas it seemed to take off and get back to normal.
Sort of testing it, only half believing it was working again we cautiously
continued on our journey through the giant woods. In Sequoia we stopped to see
the General Sherman Tree. And then stopped for lunch at the lodge. The car
seemed to be working fine now so we put the incident behind us.
Back down the hill we stuck to the two lane highway south through the orange
groves to Bakersfield where we hung a left on rt. 58 towards Tehachapi. Our
destination was the Loop, a famous point where the Southern Pacific - Santa Fe
jointly operated rail line loops around on itself on its way through this
steep mountain pass between Los Angeles and San Francisco. Unfortunately we had
run out of light so we could only guess what the railroad was doing as we
climbed through the hills on the highway. We guessed it was probably over there.
When we reached the town of Tehachapi I was surprised to find a large town. I
sort of thought Tehachapi was out in the middle of nowhere, which it sort of is,
however something like 40,000 people live there.
As we got off the highway our search began. No cheap coupon hotels were listed.
We passed the Ranch Hotel just up from the hospital that looked okay. We asked
the clerk at the gas station if she could recommend one of them. Well, no, not
really, there was a Best Western, and a Travel Lodge down that way, or a few of
the old Mom and Pop places to choose from. Okay, thanks, we'll go take a look.
As Phil pumped the gas I went around the corner to peek into a hole in the wall
Mexican cafe that I had noticed. The clue was there were a dozen or so tables
and every one but one of them were occupied. I'd found the place to eat.
We passed the Ranch House Hotel which I sort of liked. It had that classic
1960's modern sandstone facade. It looked like it was in good shape. Down the
road we looked into the Travel Lodge and it looked way too good for us, nice
big fancy foyer, two stories tall, way too high class (expensive) for us. Well,
let's go in and find out. $68.00. Sixty-eight bucks! Okay, we excused ourselves
looking for something cheaper. The Best Western was almost as much, and not
quite so elegant. Humm, okay, let's go check out the Ranch House.
As we pull in a woman is taking her bags into one of the rooms. We ask
how is the room. She replies, "Oh, it's okay." We take that as a positive
sign. Her's is the only other car besides ours in the parking lot.
Mahommid looked up from the mid-eastern broadcast on his satellite TV. Oh yes,
we have the room, for two it is $45. Forty-five dollars! We knew we were off
the budget plan now. I looked at Phil and he looked at me. It was my turn to
pay. Welp, okay, let's do it. Mohammed has me fill out the registration form
as he rings it up. As I am handing him my credit card I think to ask him the
question. Do you have NBC, the Olympics? I say. I'm not sure he understands
the question. Phil says he was eyeing my Gold Visa card, probably thinking
people with Gold Visa cards usually don't stay here. You'd better go look at
the room, Mohammed insists. No, we don't need to, do we? I was just asking if
you had... TV. Okay. If we don't like the room it's a big deal to refund the
credit card he explains in broken English. So we follow Mohammed out to the
room. As we pass by several of the rooms I notice there are TVs on and
people living inside many of them, like the old guy there. Ooh, that didn't
look good.
The door squeaks open and Mohammed invites us in. My remaining expectations
of at least it being somewhere worth the $45 asking price- vanished. I really
thought... Well, I thought, somehow, the place was maybe fixed up. I mean, the
outside looked kind of good. Kind of. Look inside the bathroom, Mohammed
insists. Okay, I look in. I notice there are some extra pipes sticking out
of the wall and I picture myself stepping into the shower in the morning. The
question is would I be happy about it. As I step back into the room Mohammed
wants to know if I approve. Mohammed, and my brother, both look at me. Phil
has one of those funny looks on his face like back when we were kids, am I
dumb enough to take the dare?
After a moment of suspense, I shake my head, no way, thank-you Mohammed,
but lets see what else we can find. A smile of relief escapes both our faces.
Mohammed understands and returns to his TV. We jump in the car and race back
down to the Travel Lodge. We walk back into the lobby and ask the clerk if the
room's still available, she says yes, but it's now $200. No problem we say,
we'll take it. She laughs and signs us in.
It was worth every penny. Nice new clean spacious. Nothing creepy hiding
in the corners, nothing under the beds, nice large bathroom, and yes, NBC on
the TV. We celebrated with a rum and coke, and then took off for the Mexican
cafe.
Las Palmas. Things had slowed down by now. There were a couple of parties
left at the tables. I asked the waiter if they had something like my favorite
smothered burritos from the Mexicali Cafe, the way they used to make them years
ago before so many new owners and cooks. I described them as a simple bean
burrito smothered in a chili gravy with a few chunks of pork. Oh yes, that's
much like the plate I had picked to order. When it came out, no, of course it
wasn't just the same as my old favorite, but it was close, and very good in
its own right. We gobbled our food down.
It was about 10:30 by now, time to go look for the loop. We pulled out the
local map we had bought and drove out west and turned north on the road that
took us out, probably on the old highway, down towards the loop. A few miles
down in the pitch dark we stopped at the overlook and read the sign that
explained the scene. Five thousand Chinamen worked for months with picks and
shovels... it must have been quite a feat. Welp. might as well get out. We
stared down into the darkness. It must be down there, somewhere.
Somewhere. We couldn't see nothing. We waited and watched the stars.
In the darkness as our eyes adjusted we could almost make out what we
thought might be some features. There, doesn't that almost look like a
bank? And there, it almost looks like there is a signal light shining.
Maybe they were, maybe they were not, we couldn't really tell.The stars were amazing. There were tons of them. There were so many so bright
you could barely make out the constellations. The winter circle was quite
apparent and I could remember a few of them. Kind of rusty. Should have
brought the star chart. Well, they were interesting enough for a few minutes
but we were here to see trains! I mean we had traveled 1,200 miles just
to see this amazing sight and... and, there were not trains. What gives?
I'm sure while we were eating I had heard a train. I mean this is the main
route between LA and San Francisco and the rest of the northwest. There had
to be trains. It would be so cool to see one come up or down the hill and
loop around on itself in the dark. Wouldn't it? Of course it would. But no
trains come. We go back to watching stars. All my friends who have been here
report seeing train after train. Back in the good old days they went up and
down elephant style, trunk to tail, trunk to tail.
We wait and wait but there are no trains. After towards and hour we give
up. It's just cold enough to finally chase us back in. Reluctantly we
continued down the hill and then back up, still sighting no trains.
A little late night Olympic highlights and we were fast asleep.
2-13 WED
After a good nights sleep and a quick breakfast we headed back down to
see the loop in the day light. Sure enough, there were the tracks. We stopped
at a view point and looked down on the tracks essing below us on the steep
hill side, disappearing into a cut and tunnel portal. Wow, this is great.
So why did they fence this place off? All you had to do was move down to
either side fifty feet and the old barbwire fence was falling down to the
ground from obvious neglect. For some reason the best spot at the crown of
the hill was newly and well fenced, yet not posted. Of course they know its
frequented by those crazy rail fans.
After a few photos we moved down to the official view point and there it
was, the Tehachapi Loop, almost as we had imagined the night before. Hey,
there's a ranch in the middle of it. I big one. How come they didn't have
any lights on last night. You'd figure we would have seen them.
After waiting a while, again without any trains, we decided to go further
down and explore. We followed the access road into the Loop Ranch and stopped
where is crosses the tracks. We noticed one other probable rail fan, a guy in
a pick-up truck. We waited there for the first train to come around. It turned
out to be an inspection truck. More disappointment. There have to be some
trains coming. We had seen one back in town. We decide to move up around to
the south and follow a service road up and around. After dipping down it climbs
back up to the foot of the opposite side of the tunnel we had seen earlier. A
perfect perch for watching trains.
After a little while before our concerns of maybe not seeing any trains
grew too grime finally there was one coming up the hill. We could hear it before
we could really see it. There it is, off to the right, down by the highway,
slowly moving up hill, then turning, crossing the bridge and looping around
behind the pointed hill in the middle. With anticipation it finally breaks out
of the dark hole of the tunnel under the loop and circles around on itself.
Cool! We say, as we snap away with our cameras. We're going to need more
film. The train slowly loops around on itself and in a wider turn loops up
towards us, right beside, and then ducks out of view into the tunnel.
Yeah, this is a good spot to watch trains.
In just a little while another trains winds up the hill and impresses us
more. Then one going down hill catches us off guard as it quietly appears
out of the tunnel. We explore a bit and climb the hill above the tunnel for
another perspective on the next train up the hill. It's about noon time now
so we'd better get going.
Back up the hill to Tehachapi and beyond, past the wind farm hill, into
Mojave for lunch at Wendy's, then south past Landcaster and Palmdale, then over
Soledad Summit and one ridge shy of LA. If we had one more day, or even a few
hours we thought maybe it would be fun to explore, but we don't have the
time so we cut across through Fillmore to Ventura and call our Aunt Audrey
in Oxnard for directions. After a few wrong turns we are finally in her
driveway and have a very nice visit with her and our cousin Carrie, and two
of her kids.
All too quickly we must excuse ourselves and head up the coast. Our first
stop was right around the corner for a quick run on the beach to touch the
Pacific Ocean. Yep, it's wet and salty. Unfortunately it's dark so we really
can't enjoy the views of the ocean as we head up the coast highway. Hunger
overtakes us at Santa Maria and we sit down for half a meal at the Olive
Garden. Ralphielle, our waiter, entertains us with his European accent. Maybe
its German, Swiss, Spanish or French. I don't know, I suspect maybe he's an
aspiring actor hoping to impress a casting director. It was something. Perhaps
even genuine, I don't know.
I called Jack and left him know we were on our way, getting close. Sure,
come on up. Jack Parker is quite a character, leathery old no-nonsense sort of
guy. His own business manufacturing model railroad injection molded supplies
and kits. He lives in the same place and has a fantastic HO scale model railroad
layout down in his basement. It is incredibly detailed and huge, a wonderful
thing, that he loves to show off. It faithfully depicts the Northern Pacific
Railroad in Logan Montana in every detail, including a six stall roundhouse I
personally built for his layout. Jack produces the engine doors for me for it.
Poor Phil was knocked over as Jack showed it to us, and the rest of his toys.
About one a.m. now it was time to call it a day. We wondered back up to the
Motel 6. It would be difficult to put together a better day.
2-14 THUR
We slept in a little too late to meet Jack for breakfast so we headed up the
coast, but first we had to check out Pismo Beach, a quaint little beach town
featuring a free fishing pier, the perfect vantage point for watching the
surfers catch the waves. There's probably some sort of pecking order to these
things. Or maybe its just the luck of the waves and where you've chosen to
wait really doesn't matter. If the water was a little warmer I might be out
with them.
After watching the surfers for a while we head up the coast, heading for
Avila Beach to find the Old Port Inn restaurant that our aunt has told us
about. She was right, its hidden out on this pier that you might have
second thoughts about finding a great restaurant at but there it is. Not
only does it have a wonderful view but the seafood is great. We split an
order of Chippino and fried catch of the sea, a killer combination. The
sauce on the Chippino was outstanding. You knew it was if I didn't mind
eating the tiny octopus. You wouldn't find me doing that if it wasn't.
After the incredible meal we headed up the coast on Route 1 past Morro
Bay and so on. We stopped at one of the overlooks because everyone else was.
It turned out to be caused by a population of sea lions, almost hundreds of
them wallowing on the beach, tossing sand upon themselves, and orking. It
was pretty cool.
The coast highway winds up and down the steep rocky coast line. I kept
thinking how much fun it would be on my motorcycle. We stopped here and there
but basically kept going and going, finally to Monterey. Actually, we stopped
just shy and took a quick look at Carmel by the sea. There are some bucks
there, boy. Wonder how much this little one costs. Oh, it's for sale. The
beach is dream like, lined with wind swept trees in all sorts of odd shapes,
the white sand cupped between the rocky points.
We moved on reconnecting with highway 101 taking us up into San Jose and
the Santa Clara convention center and our hotel for the next three nights,
The Weston. No need to ask to see the room here. We think it will be all
right.
2-15 FRI
O-Scale West!
We have our own private elevator! This is perfect, we're in room 345, way
down the hall towards the convention site. Fortunately, there is a service
elevator just from our floor down to the ground level to serve the pool
otherwise we would have to walk all the way to the main elevators and back
every time we went to the convention floor.
With some anticipation I haul my two boxes of wares in and set up my
table. Nothing real fancy, just tow of my display models, actually four.
Last years model, The Wolf Creek Saloon counts as two because I have the
exterior model and a separate display of the full interior. Then this year's
model, The Old Stone Cherry Packing House. And finally, The Mississippi St.
Signal Tower, which I guess only counts as half a model being that its HO
scale, about half the size as the others. I brought it to illustrate what
I have done in HO, my main business focus, and to see what kind of interest
there might be in doing such NP prototype models.
After set up the doors swung open and the contest began. I had brought
along eight of the Wolf Creek Saloon kits to sell. They are $150 a piece. I
needed to at least sell three of them to cover the expenses of attending the
convention. Any more would help pay for the trip. That was my only hope. The
new kit wasn't quite ready to box up, I needed to proofread the instructions
and finish a few details, but I brought my order book.
I managed to sell five of the Wolf Creek kits and take orders for four of
the new ones so the budget was saved. I'd be able to afford the three nights
in the Weston plus. This was all I had asked for.
Besides making the money the best part about it was I was in a room full of
train stuff that I was only mildly interested in. I walked around and looked
at a bunch of it but it was all the wrong scale so I had no desire or burning
need to buy anything. It was great. Usually when I'm at shows I surrounded by
all sorts of stuff that I really really would like, or need. I did find a book
I was looking for $25, about half what I expected I might pay someday if
I ever found it so that was good. Phil won a door prize which turned out to be
pretty good. It was a $25 gift certificate for Western Scale Models who makes
all these really cool white metal castings of things like machine shop machinery,
and mining and logging equipment. After some window shopping Phil decided to
add a couple of bucks of his own and buy a planning mill which is really cool.
Yeah, it's the wrong scale for him too but he figured it would make a nice
mantel piece which I agree it will. I'm real tempted to buy some too as I may
be doing more things in O scale later on. It's a slippery slope I know.
The other really cool thing about O-scale west is the layout tours. We
hooked up with my buddy Steve, and our friend Keith, and visited five layouts.
They went from varying degrees. All were pretty good. Two of the best were Bob
Brown's and Dave Adam's. Dave's D&RGW Durling Branch was really neat, a
double deck affair, with gorgeous scenery depicting Colorado narrow gauge. I
also include Bob Brown's as on of the best because it is simply crammed with
just about every structure model ever made. Bob is the editor and publisher of
The Narrow Gauge and Short Line Gazette so every one who manufactures such
kits has sent him one of their models for review. It's quite a collection all
right. Yes, he has my saloon kit, we found it built up on a shelf. He hasn't
found a space for it yet.
The other layouts were good too of course. We let Keith drive under Steve's
navigation and were thoroughly amused. We hardly got lost at all!
They give out gold medals for that? Phil discovered the hoochee-kooch channel
on TV. I had to fight with him to watch the Olympics! Otherwise we stayed out of
trouble.
2-16 SAT
Saturday night Steve abandoned Keith. We were all pretty tired. So after a
rest we met in the lobby and decided to go out to dinner and visit one more
layout. Keith told us he knew where Applebee's was so we followed his instructions-
take a right (I had a funny feeling I had seen it the other way), get on the
freeway, off at the next exit. Okay, down here a ways... down, down, ah, must
be the other way. No, that's a dead-end. Must be the next exit, we hop on and
back off. No. Can't be that way (dead-end into the airport). How about the
other side? There's a big strip mall there, packed full of people and cars.
No, on beyond that... into nowhere but office buildings.
Now Keith, are you sure you don't know where this is or do you want us to
keep looking? Now back at the giant strip mall we point out that there are
several restaurants to choose from. Actually, they are all Asian. I mean
everything in this mall, the banks, the shops, all the businesses, they are all
Oriental. The Mayflower restaurant, how about there? Or the Thai Room, how about
that? Phil and my mouths start to water. Keith, you like Thai don't you? Oh
yeah, back in Oak Harbor there are three of them. So what the heck are we
doing looking for an Applebee's that we really aren't sure of? So we pull into
the mall and find one of the only parking spaces.
They've got pictures of all the fine dishes posted on the windows. Cat head
soup. Just joking. No, this looks good. We go in, there will be a ten minute
wait. We are number three. We go back outside and continue reading the menu
and trying to make up our minds. Finally we get in and order our meal. When
the Tom Kai Gai soup comes Keith says he doesn't want any. You don't want
any? You've been to a Thai restaurant before haven't you? Apparently going
to a regular Chinese place is an adventure for Keith. We forced him to try
the soup which he did find interesting. So we made a little progress. No matter,
more for me and Phil. The rest of the meal was pretty good. Not the same as
what we get back home but not disappointing.
After the meal we headed over to visit the layout. It was an amazing set up.
The track work was superb, mainline stuff, extremely well built. The more amazing
part was his collection of locomotives. I think we counted something like sixty-
four, at over $1000 a piece, well, you get the idea. As we were leaving I peeked
through the door into the family room. I could see one easy chair and a TV, and
that was it. No other signs of life. Apparently he's a bachelor, confirmed.
So what are you doing in the morning? Morning? Well, worrying about that- in
the morning. Heading north, sometime. We were in no hurry. Keith was fishing
for some company. He had nothing to do until his flight at one or so in the
afternoon. Well, maybe we'll go to breakfast or something. I thought I was
fairly non-committal.
2-17 SUN
The phone rings. Ring, ring, ring- I'm dead asleep. Phil's voice penetrates
the darkness, "Aren't you going to answer that?" I don't even think I was
thinking maybe he should answer it. Who-the? Ring, ring. Oh, I guess the
phone is ringing. I reach around for it, still sleep dazed. Oh, the handle
goes that way. "Hello?" "Mr. Crow?" Pause, "yeah?" "Mr. Crow, your limo is
waiting." Am I in a dream? No man, I'm not. "Nope, I didn't order any limousine,
you must have the wrong person." I hang up. It's six something in the morning.
Argh, I garble and explanation to Phil something about a wrong number and
fall back to asleep. I'm dead exhausted.
Bang, bang, bang! Bang, bang, bang. What the huck? It seems like a moment
later. Oh, I cover my head with the blanket. Phil asks, Aren't you going to
get it? Wait a minute, we've been all through this, they got the wrong door.
It might be house cleaning, wanting to service the room. Ah shit, I sit up
and tell them "We aren't ready yet." There's a muffled voice, a reply. Phil
realizes it's Keith, I'm still half asleep, processing that it's the cleaning
crew. What time is it? Looking at the clock that says 10:15. Ten fifteen!?!
The little wheels in my head are turning, we've over slept, dammit, I'm still
tired but it's time to get moving. "No, it's Keith." Phil explains, as I come
out of my coma. Oh, Keith. I open the door. It's Keith, bouncing, ready to go.
"You guys ready for breakfast?" "Breakfast?" Oh, yeah, breakfast. I'm thinking
no not really but give us a minute. Keith realizes that we are still asleep
so he exclaims well when you are ready give me a call.
By now Phil is up moving around, we've got the TV on and I'm trying to figure
out why it says 8:18 in the corner when the alarm clock says its past ten. Must
be broadcast from the mid-west only, no, it's a winter's Olympic update from
Salt Lake City. Hunn, that can't be right. Sure is dark out for ten a.m.
Finally we figure it out, it really is 8 a.m., not ten, must have been when the
phone rang and I was reaching around for it I hit the clock and set it ahead
two hours. Six a.m. limo, Keith pounding on the door at 8 a.m. Oh, man, I wanted
fall back asleep. No, I wanted to sleep without interruption from midnight last
night to whenever my eyes opened naturally this morning. Oh well, so what's the
Olympic update? The Canadian's quite crying yet? Whadda ya mean Ohno got
disqualified?
By the time we had showered and packed up we called Keith's room and he was
not there. We figured he'd given up on us and had gone to eat on his own. I
left a message explaining that we were headed north and would see him later
back home.
Other than a few quick run throughs I've never spent much time exploring
downtown San Francisco. We decided we'd go to Chinatown and Fisherman's Wharf.
Maybe see if we could take the cable car. Man, what a busy place. Parking is
impossible. Driving is almost the same. I never knew SF was so big, downtown
I mean. It's huge. I never knew it was so large. Been hanging around wee little
Seattle too long I guess. It's not New York City, but it's almost. We circled
around Chinatown and Phil managed to hone in on the same parking garage he
found on his family road trip a few years ago.
Chinatown was a mob scene. There were people everywhere. Not white people.
I mean Chinese. Shoulder to shoulder, going in and out the shops. We were
hungry so we started looking for food. The open groceries are something, and
the butcher shops. Everything you could imagine. Fresh seafood, real fresh,
like alive. Live frogs, exotic stuff like that. The barbecue looked really
good. There's all sorts of stuff to choose from. Phil wanted to go
for dim sum. Okay with me. After a few blocks he spotted You's Dim Sum, the
place they ate on the road trip. So we get in line. Everyone is jabbering in
Chinese, pointing to stuff. When it's finally our turn the server looks at
Phil and asks in broken English what you want, how many? Of course there
are no signs in English and we have no idea what the stuff is anyway so he
points and says two. No she shakes her head and says three, holding up three
fingers. We can sort of see that most of the prices are three for $1.15, $1.40
and stuff like that. Okay, yes he nods, three. She starts going through the pots
tossing three of everything into the containers. The other servers chatter
back and forth, "Chow chun chuck" and stuff like that. More fried cat for all
we know. The total comes to something like $12.45. Okay, now what do we do?
Maybe go outside, or sit down inside. We do that.
It was sort of a guessing game. Wonder what this is. Humm, pretty good. Oh,
this one's really good. Yuk, sort of like seaweed and fish butt. Not my
favorite. It didn't take much to fill us up. We barely put a dent into all the
stuff she had given us. Oh, did I mention that Phil had to pee? Yeah, he
always had to pee. He's taking some sort of pills to help keep this swelling
down in his arms and legs. He has to take them every morning and so for a
couple hours he has to pee all the time. With all those people you'd think
there would be a few public toilets around somewhere. We sure couldn't find
them. We asked at the parking garage when we came in. Maybe go into a restaurant
was the attendant's only comment. Unfortunately, there didn't seem to be any
restroom in the dim sum house. And it wasn't something you felt comfortable
asking the dim sum server who didn't seem to speak much English so poor Phil
suffered. Finally after about an hour of walking around, eating dim sum, we
found a pot-a-potty down by a street carnival, celebrating the Chinese New
Year we think.
From there we walked over to catch the cable car. Just missed on, so we
stood on the corner for fifteen minutes waiting for the next one. It was a
kick. I inspected the large handles and cranks that engaged the car with
the cable. I'm not sure I really figured it out. That one grabs the cable
I think, the other must be a break. After paying our fare one of the passengers
mentioned that you could buy a day pass instead of paying $2 per leg. At the
bottom of the hill we learned that we should have gotten off at the top of the
hill to transfer to the car going down to Fisherman's Wharf, or the cable car
museum. The car attendant allowed us to ride back without charging us another
fare. We hoped off a block past where we were supposed to, I don't know,
Phil I thought had the directions. I had heard it was just one block down
and one more over but we kept walking down. Finally we asked someone who
told us to go one more block down and another over. Despite my growing
doubt sure enough it was there. Pretty cool. It's a working museum. Besides
having historic displays it's the actual power station for the cables. They
wind around under the streets and all four are powered through large wheels
here at this central point.
Since it was downhill we walked all the way down to Fisherman's Wharf. I
don't know what I expected if anything. It was too much of a tourist trap
for me. Crowds of people and cheesy shops. Almost on the first corner we
were in front of a junk electronics shop and I noticed the Kodak sign just
when the barker invited us in, wanting to sell us lens filters. No, I don't
need any lens filters. I have them all, yes, polarized, UV. You got slide film
I asked? Yeah, how much? Ektachrome 100 speed 36 exposure. $6.99. Good price,
okay I'll buy some. We follow him in. They pull down two rolls and the guy
behind the counter says they are $9.99. Nine ninety-nine! Hey, wait a minute,
outside they were $6.99 and now they are ten bucks, what gives. Slide film,
costs more than regular film. Bate and switch artists. Awe, I needed another
roll so I bought just one. They were $8.23 at Longs Drugs a few nights ago,
I had my chance to buy cheap.
We walked across the street and down to the waterfront. Just one block
down and we had the place to ourselves. I exclaimed that this is what you're
supposed to come down to look at, not that street circus. We wondered along
through the crowds for a few blocks. I think Phil was happy I wasn't excited
about going into any of the tee-shirt or tourist junk shops, or maybe he
was secretly disappointed?
We headed back up towards the parking lot. Last chance for Chinatown. We
needed some barbecue pork to go along with our left over dim sum! We worked
our way back up the street. Checked out the first butcher shop a little more
carefully now, we were going to be eating here, not just looking. How about
the next shop. Yeah, this is the one. There was a full fresh roasted piglet
hanging in the back. Someone was going to have a feast. We were more interested
in the riblets hanging here in the front. Phil agreed so I began to wait in line.
The woman in front of me was comparing smoked chickens. Of course I had no
idea what the conversation was about, maybe something about it being a nice fat
one, see here, very good. The woman consulted with the others in her party,
three of four of them all had to approve. Next they moved on to selecting
some pork, then something else and something else. I held onto my place
because the pork riblets were right there by the door. The woman was chattering
about something else endlessly. Meanwhile, I ignored the steady flow of other
shoppers stepping around me and ordering other things inside the shop. Finally
the woman has bought her feast and I'm next. I'd like some pork please, I
point and smile as she reaches for the rack. Yes, I node and hold two fingers up.
She select two nice ones and I nod in approval. She chatters something in
Chinese and points to the chopping block and again I nod yes. $6.45.
Before we leave Chinatown we notice an additional racket down the street.
The dragon dancers are going shop to shop chasing out the evil spirits which
Phil believes is probably us as it seemed to work. They would pound the drums
and the dragon would go into the shop, dance around a bit, they'd light off
some firecrackers and move on to the next. With that we were off.
Back on Highway 101 we moved along to cross the Golden Gate Bridge. Then
up a bit we got off and headed up to the Muir Woods for an explore of the giant
redwood trees. They were pretty cool though I like the giant sequoias a little
more. Just something about the orange bark that I really like. It was a bit too
dark and cool for a picnic there so we moved over to an ocean overlook. Not
that much better as the wind pushed clouds and sprinkles of rain in our face
as we picked at the leftover dim sum and pork.
From there we headed north again following 101 in the dark to Ukiah where
we found a Motel 6 for the night. We asked the night clerk to microwave our
barbecued pork.
2-18 MON
For some reason the tail end of our trip is fuzzy. I guess because most of
the excitement was over. And I at least was exhausted and sort of tired of
being in the car. But still, we were having fun. Ukiah, let's see, I know a
guy in Ukiah. I tried calling his business but it was busy. Tried several
times and it was still busy. It was President's Day. I was beginning to
think that maybe taking the phone off the hook was there way of saying they
were enjoying the holiday. I hadn't prearranged anything so we decided not
to bother him. So, we circled around town. Took a photo of the saw shop,
and the depot, poor thing, the burro crane out back, and a few other odd
buildings in town. The best one was the Redwood Log Gas Station. Yeah, a
giant hollowed out log gas station. I'd seen pictures of it, and old postcards,
but I had forgotten it was in Ukaih, and had no idea that it was still standing.
It was a have to stop. Phil says, you mean you really want a picture of that?
After breakfast we headed out of town on Orr Springs
Road which we noted lead across the scenic route to the coast. Indeed it was
scenic, slowly climbing the rolling hills which were sparsely covered with
scrub oak and the occasional pine, otherwise they were grassy, a mid-winter
drab on the edge of turning brighter. Ranches, fancy spreads and hippie homes
dotted the landscape. Remaining wisps of foggy clouds clung here and there.
The road finally reached the ridge top and followed it for several miles
eventually dropping down the other side, past the hot springs hippie resort,
then wondering into the woods. There were spots of redwood, second growth
I think, and almost groves here and there.
We followed a river course for most of the remaining way to the coast.
One more up over and down and into Mendocino, kind of a cool little town,
perched on the sea coast, full of touristy shops. Phil couldn't believe that
I didn't yell for him to stop. It might have been okay to take a better look
at some of the old buildings but there were just too many people. I can
imagine this place on a weekend in the summer. It seemed full now.
Instead we circled around and said that's nice and headed up the highway.
We were on a northward mission. There were plenty of sights to see. No need
to stop and/or shop. Now I guess this is the fuzzy part. Oh, no, its not, we
moved on to Fort Bragg. I just looked at the map. It's all coming back to
me now. Yeah, in Fort Bragg we hit the MacDonalds, I know, not very imaginative,
but that's what we did. We asked them where the railroad is. Two lights, no
three, or is that four, hang a left, you can't miss it. So that's what we did,
go two, three or four, it was something like that, hung a left and we were
at the station. Not much happening there, we went in and looked around the
museum shop, picked up a brochure, one train daily (more I think in the summer),
which we had long missed. So we kicked around the depot and small yard and
quickly turned up nothing. I noticed a camera shop across the road so we
went on another roll of film hunt. Yeah yeah, I know, I'll buy more at home
next time. Cosco was out of slide film. They've been out for about a year.
Last time I was in there the guy said it should be in a week or so. Only
it never did. I got spoiled as they were selling five rolls for only $24.95
which is half of what you find it for in a little camera shop in Ft. Bragg,
Long's Drug in the Bay Area, or those sharks down at Fisherman's Wharf.
Anyway, I bought another roll of film. That should last me through the
end of the trip, right? Right. I don't listen.
There are lots of cool things to take pictures of. At least they looked
like they would make a cool picture when I was standing there thinking this
is my chance, may never be through here again, etc... snap, click, click...
Only now I'm sure you're looking at some of them wondering what the heck does
he think he's doing? Well, I told you this part was fuzzy.
So where were we? Oh yeah, leaving Fort Bragg, well, there's a trestle,
must be a railroad trestle, so we gotta stop and at least snap us a picture
or two. I swear, on one of my other trips- I forget if I've been through here
just once or twice before? More fuzz... I stopped and took this same photo
and it looks as washed out as this one. Still, it's a photo worthy stop.
So we continue up the coast. Okay, now this is the part that is fuzzy.
Maybe I was taking my after lunch nap, or maybe I was driving, or maybe it
was just some more non-descript driving along the coast. Oh, I do remember the
final turn inland at Rockport. That was pretty cool. We stopped at one point,
I think it was here, and took some artsy photos of the rugged sea coast with
the seagulls flying around. I remember I was focusing my camera for the
background and watching the sea gulls fly in and out of the frame thinking
this would be a good photo but then I thought, no, no, you've got enough
artsy photos, but maybe, and at one point the seagulls, three of them, just
for a split second would have looked so good. I pressed the button but no
click. No, my camera's not broken, I just hadn't wound it. Ah, I didn't
want that picture anyway. Dumb seagulls. Still looking through the lens,
having wound the camera now, I look and thought, no, that would be a good
picture. So I waited and waited, the seagulls were laughing, you know that
seagull laugh, I'd had my chance for the perfect seagull sea shore photo of
the day and I had missed it. So I clicked the picture when I thought two
seagulls were in the frame. The moment I did, of course about a dozen flew
overhead, laughing, laughing, at that idiot down there with the camera.
They filmed the movie "Birds" around here somewhere didn't they?
Back along Highway 101, The Redwood Highway, we are now heading into the
redwoods. We stopped at a few tourist traps, no, not to get tourist supplies,
but just to take pictures. We got Paul Bunnion and his blue ox, though we
thought Paul Bunnion was supposed to be in Wisconsin or Minnesota or something
like that. We got huge dinosaurs, a log house (one long, very large, hollowed
out log house) and the chopped up redwood tree chainsaw carving place. And
cool stuff like that. We're on The Redwood Highway after all. Then we see
the sign, Avenue of the Giants! Yeah, that's what we want, 32 miles of Redwood
trees. We get off the highway, it's a tourist trap bypass, we don't want
that. We want The Avenue. Actually, the Avenue goes through the State Park, so
it's not a tourist trap. Though I remember it sort of is, last time I was
through here I really wanted to go down the Avenue only it was literally
impossible. It was clogged with RVs, a big long line of them. It was so bad
I turned around and took the highway. Of course that was the middle of the
summer when places like this are full of nasty things like RVs and kids. We
had the place to ourselves, all 32 miles of it and just a handful of other
cars. It's a pretty amazing drive through the huge trees. We stopped here
and there and tried to take some fancy pictures. It was sort of dark and
rainy. I knew we should have tossed in the tripod.
Eventually we made out way to Eureka. Not to be confused with "Y"reka, the
place we stayed along I-5 on our way down. Or Ukiah, where we stayed last night.
It was already getting late so we found the now familiar Motel 6 and pulled in.
The clerk noted that Phil's ARRP card was only a temporary one (he's had for
five years). Now normally, someone who was a stickler for such details wouldn't
accept it for the discount but since he wasn't one of those people and Phil
had been so honest about it he'd overlook it this time (like we were ever coming
back). So we checked in.
Phil looked up steak houses in the telephone book. There were two of them.
After driving down the one way street a little bit we discovered that the
first one wasn't there. Or it was closed down for the season. As was the
second. But we found another place which turned out to be pretty good. I got
the prime rib which was one of the better that I'd had in a long time. So I
was happy. I forget what Phil had, maybe the rib eye special. After the Olympic
highlights we are finished for the day.
2-19 TUE
Let's see, where are we? Oh yeah, Eureka, California, north coast, Motel 6.
After breakfast, I forget where, we continue up the coast. We'll have to
decide what route to take, the coast or inland, but we can put that off until
we reach the junction at Crescent City. That's a few hours away. First, we
get to harass the rangers at The Redwoods National/State Park. We're good
at that. They enjoy the attention. It's off season. As a reward they suggest
taking the "scenic route" along the ridge. Then around the corner we crossed
the Kalamath River, highlighted with the golden state bears, an obligatory
photo stop.
Finally into Crescent City, over lunch, we decided what the heck, we'd
continue up the Oregon coast, we'd already seen what I-5 has to offer. So
north along the coast it is. About mid-day we arrive in Coos Bay and
can't help but notice the Coos Bay museum. This poor old locomotive it
it!
I should have been paying more attention, or taken notes, but we stopped
at two lighthouse, the first, I forget what the name... Oh, wait, (not that
its coming back to me) here it is on the map, Bandon Lighthouse, or at least
it's one near there. The other, further north, I do remember, is the Umpqua
Lighthouse just below Reedsport. Both are beauties. Though it had been rainy
and gray all day the clouds parted just enough to put some filtered light on
the Brandon lighthouse. And full light was on the Umpqua.
We stopped for sunset at the Oregon Dunes. There we noticed that a bunch
of trees were down. In fact if you looked around, there were a lot of trees
down we think from the wind storm a week earlier. The place was a mess.
Continuing on, we searched around for a restaurant in Florence, asking the
guys at the gas station for a recommendation. We almost ate at a seafood
place but balked at the prices, and settled on kind of a country inn.
No doubt we passed all sorts of scenic delights on our way north to
Waldport where we turned inland to Corvallis, where we spent the night with
Susan.
2-20 WED
Well, that was fun. I finally got to use my sleeping bag. Never used the
tent (thrown in just in case), but I camped out on the floor and Phil snuggled
in the famous futon. I forget (yeah, I know, I do a lot of that) what we did
in the morning. Slept in, took showers, watched TV. Then went over and met
Susan, who had gone to her morning class, at the Thai restaurant. It was very
good. We, or at least me and my Dad, are addicted, or at least used to our
local Changmia restaurant's chicken panang, a very tasty spicy dish. Somewhat
disappointedly I ordered the beef panang as it was not available in chicken.
Wow, was it good. Now, a few weeks later as I am writing this, I'm thinking
it's almost good enough to drive down there for (five hours each direction).
There Tom Kai Gai soup wasn't quite as good, but over all the meal was quite
good. The service, what there was, wasn't that great, but what do you want
in a college town?
Poor Susan. After living on the east coast, in sunny warm S. Virginia, we
sort of feel sorry for her living conditions in central Oregon. Dreary and gray.
The Oregon State campus seemed to blend right in. I thought maybe I'd be
invited on a quick tour but neither Phil or Susan encouraged it. Seen one
campus, seem 'em all...
So after lunch we said good-bye to Susan and headed north. Nothing special,
just I-5 boredom. We toyed with stopping in Portland but then a brilliant idea
hit us. There was a big snow capped mountain, Mt. Hood, off to the east. Why
not go climb it? Cousin Dave had said, Oh, you've got to have chains to do that.
Yeah, but it's become a nice sunny day. If it gets icy we'll turn back. Let's
risk it! So off we went, taking the cutoff in Milwaukee to the town of Boring,
the brunt of lots of jokes, then east on Rt.26. Just past Zigzag as the road
rose and rose the signs and then piles of snow began. At Government Camp there
several feet of it but the road was still clear and dry. On the final leg up
the slope to Timberline there were some icy spots and finally patches but we
climbed right up and parked at the lodge besides tons of snow. Ten, twelve
feet of it. The views were spectacular but with one flaw, a new marine air
weather system (a fancy term for rain) was moving in, kind of like high fingers
of clouds overriding the clear cool air. One of the finger, crossed over the
mountain, obscuring the center portion. We took a quick tour of the lodge
which was full of activity, mostly it seemed groups of kids, high school age.
Pretty fancy ski team trips, or something.
We headed back down to hood River on the Columbia River, crossed the tiny
steel bridge to the Washington side and headed west again at dusk. By then I'd
had it, worn myself out with a pounding headache. Too much time in the car I
think. Not the best way to complete the trip. I was glad to finally make it
and sleep in my own bed. I couldn't believe it when they wanted me to drive
them to Issiquah the next day for lunch. I didn't want to see the inside of a
car for a week, but I did. We had Thai food, of course.
Next Log - 1983
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Cycle Tales
AUTO TOUR LOG - 2002 O-SCALE WEST
