Bakersfield to (Texas de) Brasil

It's Day 13 and we're headed for Vegas after a hot breakfast at the Clarion. There were some stunning bordello-type faux crystal chandeliers leading to the breakfast room, which was under construction at the time of our visit. We weren't sure if the chandeliers were the before or after.

At 5:54 am it was already 83 degrees - woohoo. We had reached 116 yesterday, and we wondered if today would top that. At home it was still rainy and in the 50s and we all appreciated the excellent weather that had been sent our way. Donald had the complimentary USA Today from the hotel, and announced that Billy Mays, pitchman, had died after bumping his head during a rough landing.

We passed what looked like thousands of windmills in the Tehapatche Mountains in CA, and thought with regret of the resistance to this source of power back home. The temperature dropped 20 degrees in less than an hour in the mountains. We spotted some mountain goats so far in the distance that they were just white specks. In California City, out in the desert, there was an airport with a small control tower but really big planes. It was close to Edwards Air Force Base. Hmmm... Also in the paper was an obituary for Gale Storm; that made two celebs. We hoped there would not be another. The papers and TV news were filled with Michael Jackson.

Along Route 15N toward Nevada, we were treated to signs with the Ten Commandments. Fortunately none of them is about overeating. That is covered by the Deadly Sins, but no one had thought to put up signs for those.

While driving through the desert with overcast skies above, our good weather luck faltered. We passed through three different storms; the second, and worst, had 48 drops of rain. There was a sign for a town in California called Zzyzx. What imagination some people have! Once the sun came out, the GM said it was 100 degrees. We then drove by the World's Largest Thermometer in Baker, which said it was 96 degrees. Which one do we believe? Then we saw some fantastic advice on a sign not far from Death Valley, "Avoid Overheating - Turn A/C off Next 16 Miles". Sure we will!

We reached Nevada at 9:50, and immediately exited for a casino, the Primm Valley Resort & Casino. It wasn't to gamble, it was to see Bonnie & Clyde's car, bullet holes and all. The car attracted quite a few tourists, and no photography was allowed. Yes, it was morbid, and we did not stay long. We had a buffet to visit, and were in time to catch the breakfast price. Changeover time at buffets is a very special time because there are foods from two different meals and you are charged the lower price. We dined and geared up for our upcoming Vegas visit.

Happy, full, and anticipating staying at the MGM Grand for only $50/night with a $35 meal credit thrown in, we arrived not long after leaving Primm. We had a detailed plan in place. Bonnie and I would leap out of the car at the front door, run in to register, and then hurry to the Concierge to buy tickets for the Cirque de Soleil Ka show for the next night. Clyde and Donald would take the GM to the nearest Terrible's for an oil change, as the check engine light had come on after 3,000 miles. It's important to treat a rental with the same respect as one's own, especially when driving exorbitant distances. Yes, we would be reimbursed. Once the oil change was done, the men would take all the luggage and meet us in the lobby. Sounds easy enough, unless the hotel is the size of two football fields, which I think MGM is. Maybe three football fields. With a gigantic parking garage, which is where Clyde & Donald were when the called us. After half an hour of, "Can you hear me now?" and "Where are you?" and "WHAT??? I can't hear you!", we finally hooked up in the garage. We all rolled our way to the fourth floor, with the help of the elevator, while Bonnie and I told the men that procrastination pays because we got the Cirque tickets for half-price.

Our rooms were fantastic, and we had B&W photos of Sophia Loren and Tyrone Power in ours. MGM didn't stint on star photos, and they had even put them in every bathroom stall of every restroom. After a brief stop in the rooms, we looked around the hotel a bit, locating the pool and restaurant of choice (the buffet, naturally), and saw a sign that nearly brought tears to my eyes - dine all day at the buffet for $29.99/pp. But that was for tomorrow.

Bonnie had made dinner reservations for us for that night months ago. We had both used multiple email accounts with multiple anniversaries and multiple birthdays to join the Texas de Brasil eclub to receive coupons. Since dinner is $50/pp, we needed all the help we could get. We didn't get the email until we were half-way across the country, and were fortunate enough to find a Choice Hotel that had a printer available to guests. The coupon said only one coupon per table could be used. At the restaurant, we explained that we both had coupons for our anniversaries, and could we sit together? No we could not. Could we sit near each other? That was allowed. We had already had one buffet meal that day, but we gamely accepted this new challenge. I enjoyed the side dishes as much, and maybe more than, the parade of beef and chicken that made it to our table. We had never seen anything like it.

We rolled our way out of Texas de Brasil and back to the MGM, where Bonnie and Clyde decided to try their luck. Donald and I felt like dead ducks, so we decided to turn in. After all, it was 8:45. Tomorrow would be another long day of eating, and I wanted to be rested and ready.

A Bridge, a Barrel, and Bakersfield

We said goodbye to Ukiah and the (best yet) Comfort Inn before breakfast. We had over six hours of traveling ahead, plus tourist stops, and breakfast wouldn't be served until 7:00 am. Too late! At 6:28 am, the day was already gorgeous and sunny, and we passed one winery after another along 101S, through Mendocino and Sonoma Counties, names we had heard only on TV until then. Breakfast could have been at a Golden Corral for a fantastic buffet, but, alas, there were none to be found, so McDonald's in Windsor it was.

We paid the $6.00 toll to use the Golden Gate Bridge, which had very little traffic that Sunday morning, arriving there just before 9:00 am. After dropping a few quarters in the meter, we followed the rest of the tourists to the viewing area. The day was only slightly foggy, and we appreciated our good fortune in having such a clear view of everything, except Alcatraz, which was slightly fogged in. We walked and snapped and learned that, on a clear day, bridges are easy to photograph. A little shopping for a T-shirt, hat, and a mood ring, and after forty minutes we were ready to move on.

After asking Susie the age-old question, "Do You Know the Way to San Jose?" we were off again on 101S, right through the lovely city of San Francisco. We saw cable cars, lots of people, hilly streets, but no Rice-a-Roni. No matter, we were going to see the Winchester Mystery House, which Sarah Winchester, heir to the Winchester Rifle company, kept in perpetual construction until the day she died. There were crews in the house every day, and as anyone who has ever had any home remodeling, this had to have gotten old fast. Since we chose not to take the $31.00/pp tour, we would never know why she did what she did. We did, however, overhear a tour guide pointing out that Sarah Winchester's bedroom was adjacent to the head carpenter's... The estate was stunning from the outside, and Bonnie and I enjoyed the gardens while Clyde and Donald checked out the small weapons museum. By 12:00, we had seen and shopped enough, and it was 100 degrees. Time for lunch. Cracker Barrel was on the dance card, but we came upon a Marie Callendar's in Gilroy, and couldn't say pass it up. We skipped the pie, however, and got onto 152E, the first step of our journey towards home. It was June 28th, Day 12 of 24.

We reached the Mohave Desert, and watched the temperature gauge rise. There were several signs along the highway that read, "Congress Created Dust Bowl". We saw the Pleasant Valley State Prison, a classic oxymoron. We stopped at a rest area, and saw a family of five in a very small car from British Columbia, with windows wide open, all red-faced and sweaty. It was 111 degrees and they had no A/C in the car, the poor things. What could have been important enough to that family that they subjected themselves to this? Along the way we saw paddle cactus - not the scientific name - by the roadside. I'll let you guess how easy they were to photograph from the back seat of a car moving at 70 mph.

It was 116 degrees by the time we reached the Clarion in Bakersfield (hometown of Kevin Harvick, driver of the #29 Shell Penzoil car). Balmy! Roll those suitcases in with jaunty steps because there IS an elevator. Supper was at the Macaroni Grill on Buck Owens Boulevard, and was fantastic and my favorite meal of the vacation. The restaurant was not very busy, although it was actually a normal supper time, not the early bird time, and our server confirmed that the recession had hit Bakersfield particularly hard. We did our small part by eating, sleeping, and fueling in that city, and hoping that economics would soon improve.

We went to sleep with the realization that, with all that we had seen and done, vacation was only half done.

Shining Sea II

The day started on a high note - a really high note. There was a hot air balloon sailing/cruising/blowing overhead in Grants Pass. A hot air balloon shouldn't be too difficult to photograph, however I'd rather not talk about it. We soon reached Redwood Highway 199S, our first time ever to see Redwoods, and also to head south on this vacation.



Suddenly the low tire pressure light came on in the Grand Marquis. This had happened to both Donald and me in our own cars when the weather became freezing cold. Why it came on now when it was only down to the 50s was not something I wanted to think about. Luckily I was not driving, so I didn't have to make any decisions. We came upon a little service station in the middle of nowhere, and Clyde pulled the ailing GM in. There was a nice man working there, and he went into action. Clyde and Donald had gotten out to explain the situation, and also I think because few men can resist the lure of a garage. Bonnie and I stayed at our posts in the back seat. We got excited when the man rolled out the jack, because we knew we were about to see some NASCAR-type action. The pit crews of our favorite drivers can change four tires, clean the windshield, and fill the tank in 14 seconds, so we waited to see how quickly one lone man could change one lone tire. We started the stopwatch. He jacked us up with a couple of strong pushes, then he got the wheel off and put it in a bathtub. Then he put a patch on it and lugged it back on the car. The culprit was a screw. It was more than a 14 second pitstop; it was more like 14 minutes, or maybe even 34 minutes, but we were fortunate that the nice man was there, and that he only charged us $12. The low pressure light went out, and we went off in a cloud of dust.



We reached California at 7:37 am. I expected to immediately see miles of beaches. Perhaps we would, as soon as we reached the coast. We made a quick stop at a rest area to check on the newly patched tire. All was well. There was another car at the rest area that was overheating like Old Faithful, and we hoped that that story would have a happy ending. There was a Ranger in the parking lot, ready to offer assistance. The next stretch of road alternated twists and turns, rock walls, and big trees. It was not a relaxing road for a passenger, and must have been even more difficult for the driver. But it was as scenic as anything. The trees were skinny, and had reddish colored trunks. Interesting, but we were waiting for the REAL Redwoods, not just red wood. The temperature dropped about 20 degrees in 20 minutes right before we reached the coast, the coast, the Pacific Coast! As the temperature dropped, the gas prices climbed; $3.19 a gallon was prevalent. No matter, we were IN CALIFORNIA. We stopped at the first real beach we came across, in Crescent City. We saw a jellyfish and some crabs in the sand, and touched the water. Felt just like the Atlantic. The fog was dissipating and the area was beautiful. The northern coast was one photo op after another.



We reached the Redwood Forest and despite knowing what we were about to see, we were still astounded and enthralled by the size of the trees, and the darkness of the forest. Clyde had the great idea to take the scenic byway, and we saw even more trees. We were out of the GM at every turn-off on the winding roadway, and there were plenty of turn-offs. With the exception of one vehicle being in a hurry, everyone on the roadway of the Redwoods was there to enjoy the sights, and everyone was zipping along doing about 25 mph - when the road was straight. In between forests we saw a herd of elk near - amazingly enough - Elk Prairie.

Once along the ocean again near Orick, CA, we saw a sign that read, "deadly sneaker waves and dangerous surf". There were also "Tsunami Danger Zone" signs along the highway. We stopped for lunch in Eureka at Marie Callender's, and both Donald and I spilled blueberry pie in our laps, although most of it made it into our mouths. Nice. Next stop was Ferndale, CA, a Victorian town that exceeded all expectations; shops and photos and a perfect 73 sunny degrees. While we were there we witnessed some kind of all-hands-on-deck fire emergency, with firetrucks and volunteers are heading out of town as fast as their trucks would carry them. We didn't find out what caused all the excitement as we had to go see more Redwoods on the Avenue of the Giants. We made a wrong turn and nearly ended up in a California Correctional Institution, but Clyde executed a quick three-point turn and we were out of there.

The temperature reached a balmy 93 degrees by 3:17, but we were comfortable. The Redwoods continued to be amazing. (Note to B - there was an empty Pabst Blue Ribbon can at the base of one of those beautiful Redwoods.) We passed through Mendocino, where "Murder She Wrote" was filmed. Or maybe we just saw a sign for it. We did see a music festival, or at least passed by one, with Emmylou Harris as the premier attraction. It looked like a mini-Woodstock.

We got to Ukiah at 5:32. The Comfort Inn & Suites was (were?) fantastic, the best lodging yet. It had a Platinum rating, and served a full hot breakfast, starting at 7:00 am. Unfortunately we would have to be on the road before then, and would look for something equally fabulous elsewhere on our way to seeing what the Travel Channel rated as the best bridge in the world (or something like that).

Another Whole Day in Oregon?

I went to high school with a girl who was born in Oregon, and she never stopped talking about how great it was and how she wanted to move back. She pronounced it in two syllables - ORE-gun. Recently on Facebook, I saw that she had fulfilled her dream. I had expected trees and lots of them; forests as far as the eye could see. The desert areas were a surprise. Knowing we would be traveling through 130 miles of desert the morning of Day 10 didn't give me the warm and fuzzies, but at least the temperature had only reached 57 degrees by 8:00 am, not anything like a heatwave. If we broke down and had to wait for hours in the car, we wouldn't feel like oven stuffer roasters.


We made it through the desert, survived the outhouse along 395, and when we saw Lake Abert we were revitalized. It was gigantic, very shallow at the shoreline, and was covered with thousands (or at least hundreds) or birds. Surrounding the lake were boulders and orange-stained rocks. This was a really bright orange and looked like paint. Who knows what kind of geological excitement had caused these extraordinary sights. We certainly didn't, but we knew we didn't have rocks like these at home. When we saw a man taking water samples from the lake, we decided we didn't want to linger.
Our dance card highlight #1 for the day was Old Perpetual Geyser in Lakeview. Bonnie and I had read that this was Oregon's only continuously spouting geyser, shooting a plume of 200 degree water over 60 feet into the air every 90 seconds. We could take a break and sit in the relaxing waters from the geyser. It was located at Hunter's Hot Springs. Sign us up! We like to relax! With the help of Susie and Lucy, we found Hunter's Hot Springs. Unfortunately, Old Perpetual was nowhere to be found. No matter, we still had the Oregon Vortex to experience.


Meanwhile, we sat in some serious traffic along 140W. Eventually the pilot car came to lead us away, and we saw that the delay was caused by a street sweeper. Okay! Maybe the streets were really messy. Couldn't have been from those beautiful Oregon pine trees, of which we still had not had a glimpse. We did reach a National Forest at last, and the broken off branches of the pine trees had bright green moss on the ends of them, looking as if they had been dipped into green paint. They were quite interesting and pretty, although difficult to photograph, as are all woods, lovely dark and deep. We saw trees that we called mini-sequoias which whetted our appetite for the Redwoods we would be seeing once we reached California.


Lunch time came none too soon, and we had decided to try Schlozsky's Deli, a national chain that we liked the sound of but had never tried. With Susie's guidance, despite being told we had reached our destination, we never found Schlotzsky's. No liverwurst, no pastrami, no corned beef for us today. We settled for roast beef at Arby's, and told ourselves that we would find another Schlotzsky's another time, another place.


Our after lunch drive was followed closely by a big snow-covered mountain, and not having our PCs with us, we had to improvise, and called it Mt. Shasta. We still do not know what the true name is. The county mascot, per a sign, is the white pelican, with 10' wing spans. We looked eagerly at the lakes but were unable to spot any white pelicans. Perhaps they were out looking for Schlotzsky's Deli. We passed an emu farm in Brownsborough and saw genuine emus.


We decided to give the Oregon Vortex, highlight #2, a miss. It was once considered a sacred place by Native Americans, whose horses refused to walk there, and that was enough to convince us we didn't want to go there either. Plus cameras were not allowed.


We reached the Comfort Inn, Grants Pass, OR, around suppertime. After dropping our luggage, minus the laundry bags, which were threatening to take over the trunk, we headed out to a local laundromat. It lacked the ambiance of the Buffalo, WY, laundromat, and there were no car or pet washes in sight. We spent an hour, and came away with the knowledge that if one is wearing a muumuu, one should make sure it is adequate for the task. Clyde and Donald have images of Eileen in her muumuu burned on their retinas for evermore.


We made a quick stop for gas which was pumped by an attendant, something we had not yet encountered on this trip. It is the law in Oregon, providing thousands of jobs. Then we were off to supper at Buffalo Bill's Train Depot, or The Depot, as the locals call it. The ambiance was better than the food, but the ambiance was enjoyable. On the drive back to the hotel, we saw a plethora of classic cars cruising the streets. It was Friday night, after all. We, however, had bigger fish to fry - tomorrow - so we were off to bed early. As usual. Still sunny outside, still kids, more large than small, playing outside.


Tomorrow, California, here we come!

Where Were You When You Heard...

Comfort Inn sent us off with a good breakfast under our expanding belts. We hit some gravel road along Route 15, and saw a sign, "Avoid windshield damage 35 mph", and another, "75 mph, 1 mile = 48 seconds". We appreciated being kept informed. We saw Massacre Rocks, an area caused by a great flood 16,000 years ago that filled the whole place with a lake that covered Utah. There were very high rock walls. We also saw the first of Snake River, which was to follow us into Oregon or vice verse.


Then we came upon Shoshone Falls, and although we had seen nearly enough of Idaho's water falls, we decided to check these out. The access road was winding and we followed it slowly, down, down, down. There was a very small admission fee, then we headed further down to the parking lot. The falls were absolutely beautiful, and we thought they looked like a smaller version of Niagara. Plus there was a rainbow. Or two, and a splash of photo ops.


We ran into a pronghorn herd on Route 84, but not literally. They were still difficult to catch with a camera. Time for lunch! We found a Marie Callender's in Boise, highly recommended by family, and here the dessert was the star. I can still taste that Blueberry Cream pie. Boise had loads of restaurants to choose from, but we made the right choice.






We crossed into Oregon at 2:30, and immediately learned that the state rock is the Thunder Egg. Another state that keeps us informed! Vale, OR, was charming, with murals depicting the Oregon Trail pioneers painted on many of its downtown buildings.


The down side of the desert hills of Oregon was the lack of cell service. I received a text from one of our ducklings saying she had narrowly escaped being rear-ended on her way home from work, but I could not respond then. Route 20 through southern Oregon was lonely and desolate, and we saw very few vehicles or even houses. Even the sagebrush that was with us through Wyoming and Montana seemed to have left the building. Then around 3:00 MT on 6/25/09, we received another text from our duckling saying that Farrah Fawcett, Ed McMahon, and Michael Jackson had all died. We were on the road between Juntura and Drinkwater Pass.


Farm lands eventually took over from the hills, thankfully, but somehow we missed seeing the sign for Stinking Water. What imaginative town names. They make Massachusetts' towns like Stow and Concord seem so plain.


We reached Burns, OR, at 4:15. Yay! It was a long day of traveling, seven hours, and it was good to reach our hotel where the nice desk clerk gave us a discount. She also mentioned that they had just had a two week spell of rain that ended only three days ago. Then we were off to supper at the Meat Hook, which looked like the only place in town. It was a nice little family-run place with a life-sized replica of the family's prize-winning bull near the front door. The walls were literally covered with ribbons from state and country fairs dating from 1947 to the present. We didn't ask how many bulls were involved.

We had been getting daily TWC weather updates for weather at home, and found it amazing that it had rained there every day that we had been on vacation. This rain would continue for three weeks, basically until we got home bringing the good weather with us.