Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Song sung by Garnet Rogers/Unknown writer
All that Is
Who can tell when in love you'll finally fall?
Some live in vain and never love at all
but as lightning strikes
or as a small insistent voice
if we are blessed
we will hear and heed the call
Give your love and never count the cost
Lose your heart and never call it lost
May your love be your shelter
to the ending of your days
love is all that is, all that ever was
May your love grow strong and always kind
May your hearts grow forever more entwined
In the brightest day or the stillness of the night
May it be each others hand you seek and find
Never more to be alone
Ever closer you have grown
Forever now may no distance come between
And in each other's loving hearts you find a home
Who can tell when in love you'll finally fall?
Some live in vain and never love at all
but as lightning strikes
or as a small insistent voice
if we are blessed
we will hear and heed the call
Give your love and never count the cost
Lose your heart and never call it lost
May your love be your shelter
to the ending of your days
love is all that is, all that ever was
May your love grow strong and always kind
May your hearts grow forever more entwined
In the brightest day or the stillness of the night
May it be each others hand you seek and find
Never more to be alone
Ever closer you have grown
Forever now may no distance come between
And in each other's loving hearts you find a home
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Vacation 2006
El Paso, Texas
New Mexico
Have you ever had the feeling that you did not know what lie ahead, but whatever it was, you were going to make a great time of it? In February of this year I had that feeling. I took my two dogs, Scout and Rowdy, and my female budgie, Luna, on an incredible road trip to Arizona, New Mexico and Texas.
My only prior experience in those states was in 1983. My older sister and I drove to the Grand Canyon in a 1969 VW bug with 250,000 miles on it for a rafting trip on the Colorado River. I remembered the drive and the hot August weather. For this trip, I did not intend to go to New Mexico and Texas. That part just happened.
It was primarily was a business trip because I have a part-time home based business selling books online, in addition to working full time, and there were two giant library book sales in Arizona simultaneously. Since I have always taken my dogs with me on all vacations, at least for the last 15 years, taking them with me was a given, but since I did not want to pay somebody to care for my bird during that time, I decided to bring her along, also. It was unforgettable. This was the longest road trip for my dogs, and definitely the first for Luna.
I had made plans to stay at Motel 6 at nights because they allow dogs with no additional fees. Plus their nightly charges are very reasonable. We had spent many a nights in Motel 6’s in the past, primarily for long weekends and overnighters. Their locations are convenient, they have lower rates if you book online, and they have phone lines I can use to run my laptop on for Internet access. The only bad experience I had this trip at Motel 6 was in Tucson. That motel was very close to the interstate highway and the noise was unbearable, plus the toilet did not work.
Before leaving Hayward on Thursday, I had to have my locks changed on the door to my apartment because my dog walker had lost my house keys the day before. I grabbed the keys from the maintenance person, threw the new keys into my purse and took off, about an hour later than I had intended. That first night I stayed in Indio, California, just east of Palm Springs, and then onto Phoenix the next day. The country in that area is very beautiful. I love the desert. There were some mountains and the weather was clear and bright. I always meet the nicest people traveling on the road. They seem to not have a care in the world. That is the attitude I was out to achieve.
Scout and Rowdy were doing great. Since we live in an apartment, and they are used to a regimented schedule, I did not have any concern that they could adjust to the long drives and the motel rooms. We usually do go for long walks everyday, so I did figure on stopping at dog parks along the way. I found prior to the trip a couple of dog parks in Phoenix that we could stop at once we arrived. The one we picked was fabulous. It was easily accessible in a neighborhood park. It was big and flat with a separate area for smaller dogs. All the dogs were very friendly and the owners were even nicer. One dog owner discovered Scout’s fanaticism with Frisbees and played with her for almost a half hour until I noticed she had cut her pads from all the jumping and sliding. I stayed as long as possible until the sun went down and I still had to go check in at the motel. I was pretty hungry, so I was starting to think about a big meal with an even bigger Diet Pepsi.
When I stay in motels I reserve two double beds. At home I have a twin bed, and Scout has always laid claim to her spot on the bed, and Rowdy sleeps underneath. However, Rowdy is a “sleep on the bed” wanna-be, but he won’t challenge Scout for the spot. When we stay in motels, and I reserve two double beds, Rowdy has plenty of room to stretch out, relax and fall asleep. He has a look of pure joy on his face.
The second luxury that we all have when we stay in motels is that there is a TV. I don’t have any TV service at home, just a video player to watch movies. On this trip there just happen to be the Olympics also playing, which, next to Animal Planet, is one of my favorite TV shows to watch. I can tell that the dogs really enjoy the TV on also. I think the Discovery is their favorite channel when Animal Planet is not available.
When I was off during the day at book sales, the dogs stayed in the motel room with the TV turned on. I know their long hours in our apartment while I was at work definitely prepared them to be more comfortable in motel room. I know that they will be quiet and sleep on the bed. If I was not 100% sure that they would not bark and whine during the day, I would not be able to leave them alone in the room. It is not worth risking that the motel chain rescinds their policy to allow dogs. They are always on leash and I clean up after them. Since I live in an apartment, these habits are already formed.
After being in Phoenix for four days, I went down to Tucson for another sale that was supposed to last for several more days. However, I failed to read the fine print on the library’s website about them being closed on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday for restocking. They would reopen on Friday. Here I was a long ways from home with three days open on my hands. I did not want to stay in Tucson, and I did not want to go home early. I remembered seeing one of the signs on the way to Tucson that this same highway led to El Paso, Texas. I had always wanted to see Texas. I guess that El Paso would have to do for now.
The drive out of Arizona through New Mexico and to El Paso was absolutely beautiful, that is if you like desert and wide open spaces, which I do. The two trips I have made to Death Valley in the past, one in August and one in January, have provided some of the most enlightening moments in my life. On these kinds of roads there are a lot of official rest stops that are sponsored by local clubs. I have always liked these stops because they provide a snapshot of a microcosm of people traveling. You can see a lot of motor homes and travel trailers and in all shapes, sizes and designs. You can see people in all models of cars and with license plates from all fifty states and Canada and Mexico. I wonder to myself if these people are coming from or going to their intended destinations. Are they tired and anxious to get home, or are they, like me, still on their way toward their destination, and still full of anticipation? I personally also notice all the people that travel with dogs, especially at these stops. I wonder if they are novice travelers with their dogs and willing to do this kind of trip again, or are they old timers with the routine, and they can’t imagine traveling without their pets. The only irresponsible owner I ran across was a trucker and a Lhasa apso with a bad haircut that he allowed to run loose in one of the big isolated parking lots while he ran his truck. This little dog with a big time attitude ignored his owner as he kept yelling for the dog to come back. After about half an hour the dog finally returned once he had sniffed and peed on every bush in the area.
I got to El Paso that night completely exhausted and ready to pass out. As I was unloading the truck and the dogs, from my room on the second story I saw one of the most beautiful sunsets I have ever seen (picture). It was deep orange and pink and it lit up the entire sky. That was one of only two pictures I took on my entire trip, which is unusual for me since I am the one to take a minimum of two to three roles on any standard one week time off. There was a fabulous Chinese restaurant next door to the motel, so after unpacking, I bolted over and bought a couple of delicious orange chicken and steamed rice containers with a big Diet Pepsi. I went back to the motel room to eat and watch the Olympics. What a perfect day!
Two days later I was driving back to Tucson to get back to the book sale that restarted the next day on Friday. There was a small casino in New Mexico that I had spent a couple of hours at the previous night playing video poker. Other than that, in El Paso I slept, did some laundry, took the dogs for a long walk, slept more, and ate more Chinese food.
There is a border guard crossing in New Mexico that all cars going west have to pass through. There was only one officer for all the cars driving through, so there was small back up of several cars. It was sort of like other state crossings, however, as I found out, this officer was looking for something very specific that I was naïve to. As I waited in line I could see he was waving on all the truckers and he was stopping all passenger vehicles. I thought that was odd. I was expecting the opposite. As I pulled up to the guard booth, the officer steps out in the bright sun with his sunglasses on and asks where I was coming from. I said I had gone to El Paso for a couple of days. I said that I had a few extra days while in Tucson and that I had always wanted to see Texas. He had a funny look on his face and said, “Mame, El Paso is not Texas!” He was suspicious why anybody would drive all this way just to see El Paso. I then figured out that he was looking to see if I was smuggling something or somebody in from Mexico, which shares a border with El Paso. I said, “I plan to come back when I have more time to see more of Texas.” He looked at the bird cage covered in my front seat locked in with the seat belt and he looked inside the shell of my truck and saw the dog crates. He must have been thinking “Crazy Californian!” as he said, “Have a good day.”
The drive back to Tucson was uneventful. I did have time to take the dogs to a dog park in Tucson before checking in at the motel. It was also big and flat with a lot of nice dogs and fun owners.
We were in Tucson for a couple more days. On Saturday, we drove to Phoenix for another small sale, and on the same day drove back to California where we stayed at Needles for the night. I could easily say that one of the scariest drives I have ever driven was the drive from highway 10 north to Needles, which is on the way to Las Vegas. We hit that road while it was getting dark, and the highway to Needles has no street lamps. It is also very windey and, in addition, it is a truck route. To top it off, I did not have enough gas to make it all the way to Needles. I could not see the shoulder of the road on the passenger side, if suddenly I needed to pull off. Even with my bright lights on, it was not enough light. I was just hoping I would make it through the next mile after mile. Finally, I came to a tiny gas station at a crossroads fifty miles south of Needles. The price per gallon was exorbitant, but I was happy to even have a gas I could purchase. I knew the dogs had to get out after the long drive, so, after filling up, I pulled off to the side of the gas station to let them out. First I let out Scout and then Rowdy. Now, usually, I would have put them on leash, but I was in a hurry, so I did not put a leash on them. Scout was no problem and got back into the car and into her crate. I think that Rowdy, by this time, had had enough of traveling and wanted to do something else. He just walked away from me while he was out. I called him, but he continued to walk away from me. He walked right into the darkness. Since he is black, I lost sight of him in a few seconds. I ran to the car to get my flashlight in my front seat. It worked for a few seconds and then died. I had forgotten to put it back on charger from a previous use to replenish the battery. I drove around the dark parking lot for about 20 minutes with my high beams and calling him, but there was no sight of him. We were in the middle of nowhere in the desert, and we were right next to a very busy highway with big trucks going back and forth. I tried my best to think clearly, but it was tough not to panic. I decided to go back to the gas station and leave my phone number in case he came back. He did have his collar on with his license and ID tags. I did not intend to leave, but to stay in the area until I found him. When I got back to the station, guess who was walking around, sniffing everything without a care in the world. I grabbed the leash on my front seat and tried my best to go up to him casually without causing him to bolt again, and I snapped on the leash. I let out a huge sigh! There was a man with a little girl who said they had been walking behind him thinking he was lost. They said they saw him just wandering around the area, and they were talking about bringing him home to call the numbers on his tags.
My only prior experience in those states was in 1983. My older sister and I drove to the Grand Canyon in a 1969 VW bug with 250,000 miles on it for a rafting trip on the Colorado River. I remembered the drive and the hot August weather. For this trip, I did not intend to go to New Mexico and Texas. That part just happened.
It was primarily was a business trip because I have a part-time home based business selling books online, in addition to working full time, and there were two giant library book sales in Arizona simultaneously. Since I have always taken my dogs with me on all vacations, at least for the last 15 years, taking them with me was a given, but since I did not want to pay somebody to care for my bird during that time, I decided to bring her along, also. It was unforgettable. This was the longest road trip for my dogs, and definitely the first for Luna.
I had made plans to stay at Motel 6 at nights because they allow dogs with no additional fees. Plus their nightly charges are very reasonable. We had spent many a nights in Motel 6’s in the past, primarily for long weekends and overnighters. Their locations are convenient, they have lower rates if you book online, and they have phone lines I can use to run my laptop on for Internet access. The only bad experience I had this trip at Motel 6 was in Tucson. That motel was very close to the interstate highway and the noise was unbearable, plus the toilet did not work.
Before leaving Hayward on Thursday, I had to have my locks changed on the door to my apartment because my dog walker had lost my house keys the day before. I grabbed the keys from the maintenance person, threw the new keys into my purse and took off, about an hour later than I had intended. That first night I stayed in Indio, California, just east of Palm Springs, and then onto Phoenix the next day. The country in that area is very beautiful. I love the desert. There were some mountains and the weather was clear and bright. I always meet the nicest people traveling on the road. They seem to not have a care in the world. That is the attitude I was out to achieve.
Scout and Rowdy were doing great. Since we live in an apartment, and they are used to a regimented schedule, I did not have any concern that they could adjust to the long drives and the motel rooms. We usually do go for long walks everyday, so I did figure on stopping at dog parks along the way. I found prior to the trip a couple of dog parks in Phoenix that we could stop at once we arrived. The one we picked was fabulous. It was easily accessible in a neighborhood park. It was big and flat with a separate area for smaller dogs. All the dogs were very friendly and the owners were even nicer. One dog owner discovered Scout’s fanaticism with Frisbees and played with her for almost a half hour until I noticed she had cut her pads from all the jumping and sliding. I stayed as long as possible until the sun went down and I still had to go check in at the motel. I was pretty hungry, so I was starting to think about a big meal with an even bigger Diet Pepsi.
When I stay in motels I reserve two double beds. At home I have a twin bed, and Scout has always laid claim to her spot on the bed, and Rowdy sleeps underneath. However, Rowdy is a “sleep on the bed” wanna-be, but he won’t challenge Scout for the spot. When we stay in motels, and I reserve two double beds, Rowdy has plenty of room to stretch out, relax and fall asleep. He has a look of pure joy on his face.
The second luxury that we all have when we stay in motels is that there is a TV. I don’t have any TV service at home, just a video player to watch movies. On this trip there just happen to be the Olympics also playing, which, next to Animal Planet, is one of my favorite TV shows to watch. I can tell that the dogs really enjoy the TV on also. I think the Discovery is their favorite channel when Animal Planet is not available.
When I was off during the day at book sales, the dogs stayed in the motel room with the TV turned on. I know their long hours in our apartment while I was at work definitely prepared them to be more comfortable in motel room. I know that they will be quiet and sleep on the bed. If I was not 100% sure that they would not bark and whine during the day, I would not be able to leave them alone in the room. It is not worth risking that the motel chain rescinds their policy to allow dogs. They are always on leash and I clean up after them. Since I live in an apartment, these habits are already formed.
After being in Phoenix for four days, I went down to Tucson for another sale that was supposed to last for several more days. However, I failed to read the fine print on the library’s website about them being closed on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday for restocking. They would reopen on Friday. Here I was a long ways from home with three days open on my hands. I did not want to stay in Tucson, and I did not want to go home early. I remembered seeing one of the signs on the way to Tucson that this same highway led to El Paso, Texas. I had always wanted to see Texas. I guess that El Paso would have to do for now.
The drive out of Arizona through New Mexico and to El Paso was absolutely beautiful, that is if you like desert and wide open spaces, which I do. The two trips I have made to Death Valley in the past, one in August and one in January, have provided some of the most enlightening moments in my life. On these kinds of roads there are a lot of official rest stops that are sponsored by local clubs. I have always liked these stops because they provide a snapshot of a microcosm of people traveling. You can see a lot of motor homes and travel trailers and in all shapes, sizes and designs. You can see people in all models of cars and with license plates from all fifty states and Canada and Mexico. I wonder to myself if these people are coming from or going to their intended destinations. Are they tired and anxious to get home, or are they, like me, still on their way toward their destination, and still full of anticipation? I personally also notice all the people that travel with dogs, especially at these stops. I wonder if they are novice travelers with their dogs and willing to do this kind of trip again, or are they old timers with the routine, and they can’t imagine traveling without their pets. The only irresponsible owner I ran across was a trucker and a Lhasa apso with a bad haircut that he allowed to run loose in one of the big isolated parking lots while he ran his truck. This little dog with a big time attitude ignored his owner as he kept yelling for the dog to come back. After about half an hour the dog finally returned once he had sniffed and peed on every bush in the area.
I got to El Paso that night completely exhausted and ready to pass out. As I was unloading the truck and the dogs, from my room on the second story I saw one of the most beautiful sunsets I have ever seen (picture). It was deep orange and pink and it lit up the entire sky. That was one of only two pictures I took on my entire trip, which is unusual for me since I am the one to take a minimum of two to three roles on any standard one week time off. There was a fabulous Chinese restaurant next door to the motel, so after unpacking, I bolted over and bought a couple of delicious orange chicken and steamed rice containers with a big Diet Pepsi. I went back to the motel room to eat and watch the Olympics. What a perfect day!
Two days later I was driving back to Tucson to get back to the book sale that restarted the next day on Friday. There was a small casino in New Mexico that I had spent a couple of hours at the previous night playing video poker. Other than that, in El Paso I slept, did some laundry, took the dogs for a long walk, slept more, and ate more Chinese food.
There is a border guard crossing in New Mexico that all cars going west have to pass through. There was only one officer for all the cars driving through, so there was small back up of several cars. It was sort of like other state crossings, however, as I found out, this officer was looking for something very specific that I was naïve to. As I waited in line I could see he was waving on all the truckers and he was stopping all passenger vehicles. I thought that was odd. I was expecting the opposite. As I pulled up to the guard booth, the officer steps out in the bright sun with his sunglasses on and asks where I was coming from. I said I had gone to El Paso for a couple of days. I said that I had a few extra days while in Tucson and that I had always wanted to see Texas. He had a funny look on his face and said, “Mame, El Paso is not Texas!” He was suspicious why anybody would drive all this way just to see El Paso. I then figured out that he was looking to see if I was smuggling something or somebody in from Mexico, which shares a border with El Paso. I said, “I plan to come back when I have more time to see more of Texas.” He looked at the bird cage covered in my front seat locked in with the seat belt and he looked inside the shell of my truck and saw the dog crates. He must have been thinking “Crazy Californian!” as he said, “Have a good day.”
The drive back to Tucson was uneventful. I did have time to take the dogs to a dog park in Tucson before checking in at the motel. It was also big and flat with a lot of nice dogs and fun owners.
We were in Tucson for a couple more days. On Saturday, we drove to Phoenix for another small sale, and on the same day drove back to California where we stayed at Needles for the night. I could easily say that one of the scariest drives I have ever driven was the drive from highway 10 north to Needles, which is on the way to Las Vegas. We hit that road while it was getting dark, and the highway to Needles has no street lamps. It is also very windey and, in addition, it is a truck route. To top it off, I did not have enough gas to make it all the way to Needles. I could not see the shoulder of the road on the passenger side, if suddenly I needed to pull off. Even with my bright lights on, it was not enough light. I was just hoping I would make it through the next mile after mile. Finally, I came to a tiny gas station at a crossroads fifty miles south of Needles. The price per gallon was exorbitant, but I was happy to even have a gas I could purchase. I knew the dogs had to get out after the long drive, so, after filling up, I pulled off to the side of the gas station to let them out. First I let out Scout and then Rowdy. Now, usually, I would have put them on leash, but I was in a hurry, so I did not put a leash on them. Scout was no problem and got back into the car and into her crate. I think that Rowdy, by this time, had had enough of traveling and wanted to do something else. He just walked away from me while he was out. I called him, but he continued to walk away from me. He walked right into the darkness. Since he is black, I lost sight of him in a few seconds. I ran to the car to get my flashlight in my front seat. It worked for a few seconds and then died. I had forgotten to put it back on charger from a previous use to replenish the battery. I drove around the dark parking lot for about 20 minutes with my high beams and calling him, but there was no sight of him. We were in the middle of nowhere in the desert, and we were right next to a very busy highway with big trucks going back and forth. I tried my best to think clearly, but it was tough not to panic. I decided to go back to the gas station and leave my phone number in case he came back. He did have his collar on with his license and ID tags. I did not intend to leave, but to stay in the area until I found him. When I got back to the station, guess who was walking around, sniffing everything without a care in the world. I grabbed the leash on my front seat and tried my best to go up to him casually without causing him to bolt again, and I snapped on the leash. I let out a huge sigh! There was a man with a little girl who said they had been walking behind him thinking he was lost. They said they saw him just wandering around the area, and they were talking about bringing him home to call the numbers on his tags.
I drove the next desert fifty miles completely exhausted and overwhelmed, but eager to get to the motel and rest. The rest of the night was uneventful, and I headed out the next day for home. I was still several hundred miles away, but the rest of the trip was flat high speed highways. I did not arrive home until after 9 PM that night.
I had an extra day as a buffer before going back to work due to the President’s Day holiday. However, the adventure did not end. Prior to leaving, remember, I had the locks changed on the only door to my apartment. I had thrown the new set of keys into my purse thinking that somewhere along the next few days I would change out the old keys with the new keys from my keychain. That morning, as I took the dogs out for a long walk, I grabbed my key set lying on the table with the old keys still on. On my way back from the walk I had a sudden memory jolt that I had forgotten to change the keys, and that I was now locked out. I had my cell phone with me, which is usual for me to take on my walks. I called the on-site manager, but, due to the holiday, her message said she was unavailable for the day. While standing outside my door with my dogs, I recalled an old trick I learned while doing customer service at a shopping mall. Sometimes tenants would lock themselves out of internal doors like into an office. My manager told me about using a credit card-like card that is stiff but flexible to jimmy in between the door jam and the door lock to pop open the door. I found something like this in the form of an old phone card from a nearby neighbor, and popped my door open. If I had locked the deadbolt, like I usually do, I would have noticed immediately that the key was bad because the key would not have worked.
Anyway, the trip, looking back, was incredible. We had a great time, though I know we all were pushed beyond some present limits. But, who said that could not be a good thing! And I do plan to go back to Texas. I have heard Austin is a great city with a lot of wonderful dog parks.
Santa Cruz February 2005
After several months of working full-time during the week and building my part-time home-based Internet business on nights and weekends, I decided that I should take the opportunity of having four days off for the President’s Day holiday. I went to Dogfriendly.com searching for a fun place to hang out for a couple of days with my two dogs. Rowdy is a 13 year old cattle dog/border collie mix and Scout is a nine year old Australian Shepherd/Pit Bull mix. I have taken both dogs on all my vacations which included long drives, rest stops, hotel rooms, guest house, beaches and dog parks. Both dogs have been raised in rentals and apartments, so we spend a lot of time together going for walks and meeting everybody in the neighborhood. Many people know my dogs’ names before they know mine.
I wanted to pick a casual place with off leash beaches, walking paths and dog parks. I decided upon Santa Cruz, California, which is a beach-side resort area about one and a half hours south of my apartment in the San Francisco Bay Area. Besides all the beaches, which attract die-hard surfers, the most famous landmark in Santa Cruz is the Boardwalk, which is the beach-front amusement park. Due to my life-long motion sickness, I have never been a fan of amusement parks, but, growing up in San Francisco, I live and breathe for beaches. I felt that two days at the beach would do me a world of rejuvenation. I was absolutely right!
The trip to Santa Cruz took me through narrow mountain highways used by commuters on their way back and forth to Silicon Valley. Along the way it was rained off and on, so some driving was slow. The directions to the Edgewater Beach Motel according to www.mapquest.com took me directly to the front door without getting lost.
The woman at the office was extremely friendly and, after checking me in, told me how to get to the Lighthouse Beach Field and to Twin Lakes, which both allow dogs. Leaving the dogs still in my truck, I put my stuff into my room. It was explained to me that the next day my room would be remodeled, adding a set of French Doors and a fireplace. It had view that looked directly to the ocean. She explained further that they remodel about two units every year during the winter.
The Edgewater www.edgewaterbeachmotel.com is small and personal with parking very close to the rooms. All of the suites are uniquely designed to fit the needs of a variety of group sizes. Some have kitchens and fireplaces. There is a large parking lot next to the suites leading to the Boardwalk where dogs can be walked. There was a small additional fee I paid for the dogs at the time of check-in.
I decided to try Lighthouse Field first, which was north of the Boardwalk and the motel. I arrived at the location of the actual lighthouse and then kept driving along the beach, which continued for a couple more miles. Even though it was still raining, a lot of people were out jogging, sightseeing, walking, pushing strollers and walking dogs. I attributed this to the day being a Sunday of a holiday weekend. Both the beaches at Lighthouse Field and the open field across the road from the beach have specific timeframes of early morning from sunrise to 10 AM and late afternoon from 4 PM to sunset when dogs can legally be allowed off leash.
I had about two hours to spend before the afternoon off-leash window. I decided to walk my dogs along the paved path which borders the beach. This path runs for several miles and is so beautiful and well maintained. Parking will be very tight on a sunny summer day, but today I was able to find a spot in one of the many lots along the beach. I did cross the road one time to go to the Lighthouse Field, though, due to the rain, it was pretty muddy with a lot of standing water. When 4 PM rolled around, a steady stream of dogs and their owners walked down the steep, narrow stairs to the large, secluded beach. I walked to the far southern end to play Frisbee.
By about 5 PM, I had not eaten all day, so my next step was to find a restaurant. While driving into Santa Cruz earlier that day, I spotted a place called the Santa Cruz Diner and made mental note to check that place out for a future meal. After getting lost in the downtown area, I drove around and around until I finally found the Santa Cruz Diner on Ocean and Coloma. The design of the inside of the diner is a mix of eras. There is a working jukebox back in the corner near the restrooms and signs of all styles and sayings cover the walls. My favorite wall was the mural of the Boardwalk at sunset and the mermaids swimming under the surf. I had a delicious plate of fish and chips and large chucks of vegetables. I looked at what people were eating other booths and hot fudge sundaes seemed to be very popular.
By the time I finally made my way back to the motel, I was exhausted. It was still raining outside. I quickly let the dogs out and ran into the room. Since the motel is only one block away from the ocean, the sound of the waves was easily heard from inside the room, especially during a storm period. I found this sound very comforting, along with the sound of the rain on the roof.
Though the room was very comfortable, I usually don’t sleep well in hotel rooms. I woke early the next morning and took the dogs out for a walk and found myself on the Boardwalk at 8 AM. The sky was clear, and I saw less than 10 people on the street. The air was very quiet and calm. Since I live in a busy urban area, I crave special times like this. We walked for about 45 minutes. I forgot to bring money to pick up a coffee. However, upon my return to the motel, I went to their lobby and filled up a couple of cups and brought them back to my room to relax further and watch Animal Planet. I don’t have a TV at home, so I enjoyed being able to catch up on a couple of hours of Animal Cops reruns.
After a delicious breakfast of a quesadilla, toast and several cups of coffee back at the Santa Cruz Diner, I decided to head south today to Twin Lakes State Beach at the end of Seventh Avenue. Since this beach is on the edge of a residential neighborhood, parking is very limited. It took me several attempts of going around and around until I found a spot. There are signs saying parking permits are required during the summer on the weekends. There is a small shopping area adjacent to the beach with access to a path out to the end of a wharf. Dogs are required to be on leashes at all times. The weather was clear and sunny.
I wished I could have stayed longer. Everything from the motel, to the neighborhood, the food and beaches was fabulous. I know that Rowdy and Scout had a wonderful time because they were exhausted when we got home and were sore for a couple of days. On their daily regimen of glucosimine and aspirin, they were feeling better in a couple of days, ready for the next trip.
I wanted to pick a casual place with off leash beaches, walking paths and dog parks. I decided upon Santa Cruz, California, which is a beach-side resort area about one and a half hours south of my apartment in the San Francisco Bay Area. Besides all the beaches, which attract die-hard surfers, the most famous landmark in Santa Cruz is the Boardwalk, which is the beach-front amusement park. Due to my life-long motion sickness, I have never been a fan of amusement parks, but, growing up in San Francisco, I live and breathe for beaches. I felt that two days at the beach would do me a world of rejuvenation. I was absolutely right!
The trip to Santa Cruz took me through narrow mountain highways used by commuters on their way back and forth to Silicon Valley. Along the way it was rained off and on, so some driving was slow. The directions to the Edgewater Beach Motel according to www.mapquest.com took me directly to the front door without getting lost.
The woman at the office was extremely friendly and, after checking me in, told me how to get to the Lighthouse Beach Field and to Twin Lakes, which both allow dogs. Leaving the dogs still in my truck, I put my stuff into my room. It was explained to me that the next day my room would be remodeled, adding a set of French Doors and a fireplace. It had view that looked directly to the ocean. She explained further that they remodel about two units every year during the winter.
The Edgewater www.edgewaterbeachmotel.com is small and personal with parking very close to the rooms. All of the suites are uniquely designed to fit the needs of a variety of group sizes. Some have kitchens and fireplaces. There is a large parking lot next to the suites leading to the Boardwalk where dogs can be walked. There was a small additional fee I paid for the dogs at the time of check-in.
I decided to try Lighthouse Field first, which was north of the Boardwalk and the motel. I arrived at the location of the actual lighthouse and then kept driving along the beach, which continued for a couple more miles. Even though it was still raining, a lot of people were out jogging, sightseeing, walking, pushing strollers and walking dogs. I attributed this to the day being a Sunday of a holiday weekend. Both the beaches at Lighthouse Field and the open field across the road from the beach have specific timeframes of early morning from sunrise to 10 AM and late afternoon from 4 PM to sunset when dogs can legally be allowed off leash.
I had about two hours to spend before the afternoon off-leash window. I decided to walk my dogs along the paved path which borders the beach. This path runs for several miles and is so beautiful and well maintained. Parking will be very tight on a sunny summer day, but today I was able to find a spot in one of the many lots along the beach. I did cross the road one time to go to the Lighthouse Field, though, due to the rain, it was pretty muddy with a lot of standing water. When 4 PM rolled around, a steady stream of dogs and their owners walked down the steep, narrow stairs to the large, secluded beach. I walked to the far southern end to play Frisbee.
By about 5 PM, I had not eaten all day, so my next step was to find a restaurant. While driving into Santa Cruz earlier that day, I spotted a place called the Santa Cruz Diner and made mental note to check that place out for a future meal. After getting lost in the downtown area, I drove around and around until I finally found the Santa Cruz Diner on Ocean and Coloma. The design of the inside of the diner is a mix of eras. There is a working jukebox back in the corner near the restrooms and signs of all styles and sayings cover the walls. My favorite wall was the mural of the Boardwalk at sunset and the mermaids swimming under the surf. I had a delicious plate of fish and chips and large chucks of vegetables. I looked at what people were eating other booths and hot fudge sundaes seemed to be very popular.
By the time I finally made my way back to the motel, I was exhausted. It was still raining outside. I quickly let the dogs out and ran into the room. Since the motel is only one block away from the ocean, the sound of the waves was easily heard from inside the room, especially during a storm period. I found this sound very comforting, along with the sound of the rain on the roof.
Though the room was very comfortable, I usually don’t sleep well in hotel rooms. I woke early the next morning and took the dogs out for a walk and found myself on the Boardwalk at 8 AM. The sky was clear, and I saw less than 10 people on the street. The air was very quiet and calm. Since I live in a busy urban area, I crave special times like this. We walked for about 45 minutes. I forgot to bring money to pick up a coffee. However, upon my return to the motel, I went to their lobby and filled up a couple of cups and brought them back to my room to relax further and watch Animal Planet. I don’t have a TV at home, so I enjoyed being able to catch up on a couple of hours of Animal Cops reruns.
After a delicious breakfast of a quesadilla, toast and several cups of coffee back at the Santa Cruz Diner, I decided to head south today to Twin Lakes State Beach at the end of Seventh Avenue. Since this beach is on the edge of a residential neighborhood, parking is very limited. It took me several attempts of going around and around until I found a spot. There are signs saying parking permits are required during the summer on the weekends. There is a small shopping area adjacent to the beach with access to a path out to the end of a wharf. Dogs are required to be on leashes at all times. The weather was clear and sunny.
I wished I could have stayed longer. Everything from the motel, to the neighborhood, the food and beaches was fabulous. I know that Rowdy and Scout had a wonderful time because they were exhausted when we got home and were sore for a couple of days. On their daily regimen of glucosimine and aspirin, they were feeling better in a couple of days, ready for the next trip.
June 2007 Mt. St. Helens Visit
Wikipedia’s Mt. St. Helens Website
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mount_St._Helens
US Geological Survey’s Mt. St. Helens Website
http://vulcan.wr.usgs.gov/Volcanoes/MSH/
US Forest Service’s Mt. St. Helens National Volcanic Monument website
http://www.fs.fed.us/gpnf/mshnvm/
Mt. St. Helens VolcanoCam
http://www.fs.fed.us/gpnf/volcanocams/msh/
I was in high school in my sophomore year in San Francisco in May 1980 when I heard on the news about the possible eruption of a volcano in Washington State. Frankly, having never been outside of California at that time, Washington State could have been another country. When the eruption was happening and covered all over the news, I became more aware of the event. After a couple of days, I started to see our sky in Northern California turn to dark from ash from the volcano, and I remember being a lot more aware of the destruction happening north of me.
My first trip to see Mt. St. Helens occurred in July 2000. My oldest brother and his family had moved to Washington near Seattle several years prior, and this was my first drive up there by myself to visit them. On my drive up on Highway 5, I passed by the signs pointing the way toward the Mt. St. Helens National Volcanic Monument, and I promised to myself that I would pay a visit on my drive back.
A few days later, on my way back, I pulled off Highway 5 in Castle Rock, Washington, and went to the visitor center less than a ¼ of a mile down Highway 405. There was a detailed center and knowledgeable staff with a printed timeline following up to, during and after the eruption. There was also an IMAX movie theater where I watched the movie “Eruption….” I became so emotionally involved in this event that I decided to go ahead and make the 52 mile drive further east toward the monument, not knowing what I was getting myself into.
Even after seeing the movie, I still had no idea what to expect. That movie depicted a catastrophic event that had occurred twenty years prior to my visit. Surely, the area was beautiful and replenished, I thought to myself. Boy was I wrong.
Driving along Highway 405, I saw on both sides of me, beautiful valleys, green hills and buildings of all kinds. Where was this place, I kept thinking to myself? How bad could things really have been? As I got closer I did start to see strange signs posted along the side of the road that caught my eye. They had the name of Weyerhaeuser on the top in a green bar, and underneath in black type on a white background there were dates after 1980 that stated when these trees were planted. How strange, I thought to myself. Why had these trees been replanted? Then at about at the 49th mile I drove past a sign that said “Entering Blast Zone” in the same style and color as the signs I had seen previously. Everything started to change quickly.
At first, I started to see tiny, little trees that were newly planted. As I got closer, there were no trees at all. Just shrubs and they got smaller and smaller as I got closer to the mountain. I also saw more and more and more of dead, burned out logs all facing in the same direction, and eventually, the entire scenery was of no more shrubs and just burned out logs, all facing in the same direction, as if blasted. I remember feeling a quiet and a reverence surrounding me. Having grown up Catholic in San Francisco, it reminded me of the feeling as a small child and entering the church in my parish where I attended school. It was so vast, so quiet, so unlike anything I had ever seen and it demanded devotion whenever you walked in.
I reached a parking lot, and winded my way around to where all the cars were, and there she was. Mt. St. Helens! The sky was crystal blue, and not a cloud could be seen for miles. I got out of my car, and I noticed there were signs that said no pets were allowed outside the vehicles. I was concerned since I had my dogs with me, it was a hot day, and we had just driven an hour in one direction. Even still, I got out of my car and walked to the edge of the parking lot where there was a rock wall about three feet high.
I was staring at something that I had absolutely no comprehension of. I had seen the movie at the visitor center, but what was in front of me did not look like the angry mountain that erupted and destroyed a valley and killing 57 people and destroyed 250 homes, 47 bridges, 15 miles of railways and 185 miles of highway. What was in front of me and all around me was perfectly still and quiet. Even the other people at the same place as me had the reverence to remain silent and just look. There were no complaining children or chattering tourists. Something also caught my eye. I looked down at my feet, and all around me in 360 degrees for miles and miles, there was not a living plant more than six inches tall. Not a weed, not a plant, not a shrub or a tree. Nothing. I began to really get a feel for what had happened twenty years prior. I remembered all the trees that I had seen lying down alongside the roads, all pointed in one direction. I finally understood that I had seen them in their final resting places after being ripped from the earth where they had stood for perhaps decades or longer, scorched from the blast of the volcano and thrown far away from where they used to stand.
One piece of information that I had remembered from the movie at the visitor center was that Mt. St. Helens was still considered an active stratovolcano and that another cone has started to form in the middle. From my distance, and due to the snow inside the mouth, I could just barely see the shape of the new cone. It was frightening to see and imagine this event occurring once again in the future, as it has done several times in the past. I really started to feel very lucky to have been able to witness such an incredible site. I drove back down Highway 405 and back to Northern California, vowing to visit Mt. St. Helens again.
Fast forward to June 2007. My nephew was now 18 years, the oldest grandchild out of eight and graduating from high school in Bellevue, Washington. I decided to make the drive with my two dogs to see the graduation, and once again visit Mt. St. Helens on my way back.
Truthfully, I did start to question why I should see the mountain again. Why make the hour long trip down Highway 405? How much could a mountain have changed in seven years? I had to be back at work in two days, and I still had a long drive down to Oregon to stay for the night. I had made the trip in a Toyota truck with over 190,000 miles, and I each time I get into it I think: “How much longer will this truck last, and will I get stranded somewhere deserted where my cell phone doesn’t work?” All this was running through my head as I filled up my truck with gas in Castle Rock, just off Highway 5. My truck does not have any kind of CD or tape player, just an AM/FM radio. I wasn’t getting any kind of radio reception where I was, so I just turned off the radio, and opened the window a bit because it was starting to rain. The sky was overcast with a lot of thick, grey clouds. I was hoping that by the time I got out to the mountain, the sky would be clear, so I could see her again in all of her glory and splendor, just like before. And just like the photo I had taken that I had posted on my refrigerator and looked at every day since 2000. I wanted to have the same mind boggling experience. Boy was I in for an experience.
Unlike before, I was now driving with a purpose to get to the mountain. I was unable to see much around me due to the heavy fog and light rain. I did see one sign that did catch my eye surprisingly as I drove 40 mph along this empty, single lane, twisty, turny road. It was a white wooden sign about two feet square with a house address on it. And the street name was “Spirit Lake Highway.” That was the name of the highway that Highway 405 used to be called prior to the eruption. It has since been changed to “Spirit Lake Memorial Highway” in honor of the lake at the base of Mt. St. Helens. I started to feel like I was being taken into another realm of existence.
Due to the weather, there were few people on the road. I still kept hoping that the sky would clear and the sun would come out, but that hope was fading by the mile as it continued to rain.
Unlike the first trip, where I did not feel I sort of unearth like experience until I entered the blast zone, I started to feel this almost thirty miles from the mountain. As I drove through the valley I started to feel a cold quiet, and a sort of sorrow and grieving all around me. It was very strange, and I questioned myself, but the feeling was unmistakable. It was not happy, but sad and grieving. I still did see the signs stating the date when trees had been replanted, and there were new ones since 2000. As I got closer, I saw the “Entering the Blast Zone” sign. However, what followed the sign was different that the first time. There was more growth, and the trees were higher and more plentiful, and I did not see all the dead, burned out logs, but I still felt a sense of sadness. It did not make sense. How could there be sadness among all this new growth?
My sites were fixed on getting to the lookout point, but my hopes were dim about seeing her again because the rain and fog were getting heavier. When I finally got the same point I had been before I noticed something I had not seen prior. There was a visitor’s center now at this point. I could not take my camera out due to the rain. I decided to continue to drive further up the road toward Johnston Ridge Observatory. I questioned myself why I was doing this because the rain was very heavy, it was getting late in the afternoon, I had no hopes of seeing Mt. St. Helens, and if my car broke down, there was nobody around who might be able to help. But something was pushing me to keep going and to go past the point I had been at before. So I kept driving.
I drove several more miles and came upon a vista point called Loowit Point. For some reason I decided to stop. It was pouring rain. I left my camera in the car and walked out toward the vista point. I got as close to the edge of the short brick wall and stopped. There was a steep drop down to the valley floor. The sign in front of me said Mt. St. Helens was directly in front of me with a line drawing showing what it would look like without all the fog and rain. I stood there and listened. The direction of the rain was coming from behind me and blowing toward my back so I could see the rain go past me and down into the valley.
Unlike my drive up to Mt. St. Helens, I was not feeling sadness and grief around me. Instead, as I looked out onto the valley, I felt immense power, rebuilding and something asking for respect and recognition. (I don’t like the word “monument” to describe an active volcano. To me, monument means something that is an object that does not move. Mt. St. Helens is neither. I believe it should be respected as something quite alive and potentially dangerous. Maybe those 57 people who died in the eruption would still be alive if they realized this.)
I wished so much to see Mt. St. Helens. I said I had driven all this way and that I wanted to see her again. I could hear only the wind blowing around me. I had on a hooded rain parka and a hooded sweatshirt under the parka. I did something I had never done before. In the hard driving rain, I took off my parka hood and I took off my sweatshirt hood and just listened. I turned my head back and forth until I could hear the wind blowing in my right ear like there was a person standing next to me gently blowing in my ear. I stood as still as possible. I did not feel like I was getting wet and I did not feel cold. I kept looking in the direction of where I knew Mt. St. Helens was and said that I wanted to see her. After several minutes I saw the clouds start to briefly clear from the top of the mountain as they were blowing by. I thought I saw the side of the mountain because I could see snow, and I thought I could see the edge of the mouth and a bit inside. I was astounded. I could not believe what was happening. I kept hoping for more, but eventually the full cloud coverage came back, and the view was gone. I became aware of myself again, and I began to hear the sounds of a car engine behind me. What must these people be thinking? Another nut from California! I said “Thank You” to the mountain, and I walked back to my car, putting both my hoods back on. Though I was soaked though the jacket and into the sweatshirt and down my back, I did not feel wet or cold. I felt refreshed and exhilarated.
I drove back the hour long drove back to Highway 5, noticing a couple more highway signs that said “Spirit Lake Highway.”
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mount_St._Helens
US Geological Survey’s Mt. St. Helens Website
http://vulcan.wr.usgs.gov/Volcanoes/MSH/
US Forest Service’s Mt. St. Helens National Volcanic Monument website
http://www.fs.fed.us/gpnf/mshnvm/
Mt. St. Helens VolcanoCam
http://www.fs.fed.us/gpnf/volcanocams/msh/
I was in high school in my sophomore year in San Francisco in May 1980 when I heard on the news about the possible eruption of a volcano in Washington State. Frankly, having never been outside of California at that time, Washington State could have been another country. When the eruption was happening and covered all over the news, I became more aware of the event. After a couple of days, I started to see our sky in Northern California turn to dark from ash from the volcano, and I remember being a lot more aware of the destruction happening north of me.
My first trip to see Mt. St. Helens occurred in July 2000. My oldest brother and his family had moved to Washington near Seattle several years prior, and this was my first drive up there by myself to visit them. On my drive up on Highway 5, I passed by the signs pointing the way toward the Mt. St. Helens National Volcanic Monument, and I promised to myself that I would pay a visit on my drive back.
A few days later, on my way back, I pulled off Highway 5 in Castle Rock, Washington, and went to the visitor center less than a ¼ of a mile down Highway 405. There was a detailed center and knowledgeable staff with a printed timeline following up to, during and after the eruption. There was also an IMAX movie theater where I watched the movie “Eruption….” I became so emotionally involved in this event that I decided to go ahead and make the 52 mile drive further east toward the monument, not knowing what I was getting myself into.
Even after seeing the movie, I still had no idea what to expect. That movie depicted a catastrophic event that had occurred twenty years prior to my visit. Surely, the area was beautiful and replenished, I thought to myself. Boy was I wrong.
Driving along Highway 405, I saw on both sides of me, beautiful valleys, green hills and buildings of all kinds. Where was this place, I kept thinking to myself? How bad could things really have been? As I got closer I did start to see strange signs posted along the side of the road that caught my eye. They had the name of Weyerhaeuser on the top in a green bar, and underneath in black type on a white background there were dates after 1980 that stated when these trees were planted. How strange, I thought to myself. Why had these trees been replanted? Then at about at the 49th mile I drove past a sign that said “Entering Blast Zone” in the same style and color as the signs I had seen previously. Everything started to change quickly.
At first, I started to see tiny, little trees that were newly planted. As I got closer, there were no trees at all. Just shrubs and they got smaller and smaller as I got closer to the mountain. I also saw more and more and more of dead, burned out logs all facing in the same direction, and eventually, the entire scenery was of no more shrubs and just burned out logs, all facing in the same direction, as if blasted. I remember feeling a quiet and a reverence surrounding me. Having grown up Catholic in San Francisco, it reminded me of the feeling as a small child and entering the church in my parish where I attended school. It was so vast, so quiet, so unlike anything I had ever seen and it demanded devotion whenever you walked in.
I reached a parking lot, and winded my way around to where all the cars were, and there she was. Mt. St. Helens! The sky was crystal blue, and not a cloud could be seen for miles. I got out of my car, and I noticed there were signs that said no pets were allowed outside the vehicles. I was concerned since I had my dogs with me, it was a hot day, and we had just driven an hour in one direction. Even still, I got out of my car and walked to the edge of the parking lot where there was a rock wall about three feet high.
I was staring at something that I had absolutely no comprehension of. I had seen the movie at the visitor center, but what was in front of me did not look like the angry mountain that erupted and destroyed a valley and killing 57 people and destroyed 250 homes, 47 bridges, 15 miles of railways and 185 miles of highway. What was in front of me and all around me was perfectly still and quiet. Even the other people at the same place as me had the reverence to remain silent and just look. There were no complaining children or chattering tourists. Something also caught my eye. I looked down at my feet, and all around me in 360 degrees for miles and miles, there was not a living plant more than six inches tall. Not a weed, not a plant, not a shrub or a tree. Nothing. I began to really get a feel for what had happened twenty years prior. I remembered all the trees that I had seen lying down alongside the roads, all pointed in one direction. I finally understood that I had seen them in their final resting places after being ripped from the earth where they had stood for perhaps decades or longer, scorched from the blast of the volcano and thrown far away from where they used to stand.
One piece of information that I had remembered from the movie at the visitor center was that Mt. St. Helens was still considered an active stratovolcano and that another cone has started to form in the middle. From my distance, and due to the snow inside the mouth, I could just barely see the shape of the new cone. It was frightening to see and imagine this event occurring once again in the future, as it has done several times in the past. I really started to feel very lucky to have been able to witness such an incredible site. I drove back down Highway 405 and back to Northern California, vowing to visit Mt. St. Helens again.
Fast forward to June 2007. My nephew was now 18 years, the oldest grandchild out of eight and graduating from high school in Bellevue, Washington. I decided to make the drive with my two dogs to see the graduation, and once again visit Mt. St. Helens on my way back.
Truthfully, I did start to question why I should see the mountain again. Why make the hour long trip down Highway 405? How much could a mountain have changed in seven years? I had to be back at work in two days, and I still had a long drive down to Oregon to stay for the night. I had made the trip in a Toyota truck with over 190,000 miles, and I each time I get into it I think: “How much longer will this truck last, and will I get stranded somewhere deserted where my cell phone doesn’t work?” All this was running through my head as I filled up my truck with gas in Castle Rock, just off Highway 5. My truck does not have any kind of CD or tape player, just an AM/FM radio. I wasn’t getting any kind of radio reception where I was, so I just turned off the radio, and opened the window a bit because it was starting to rain. The sky was overcast with a lot of thick, grey clouds. I was hoping that by the time I got out to the mountain, the sky would be clear, so I could see her again in all of her glory and splendor, just like before. And just like the photo I had taken that I had posted on my refrigerator and looked at every day since 2000. I wanted to have the same mind boggling experience. Boy was I in for an experience.
Unlike before, I was now driving with a purpose to get to the mountain. I was unable to see much around me due to the heavy fog and light rain. I did see one sign that did catch my eye surprisingly as I drove 40 mph along this empty, single lane, twisty, turny road. It was a white wooden sign about two feet square with a house address on it. And the street name was “Spirit Lake Highway.” That was the name of the highway that Highway 405 used to be called prior to the eruption. It has since been changed to “Spirit Lake Memorial Highway” in honor of the lake at the base of Mt. St. Helens. I started to feel like I was being taken into another realm of existence.
Due to the weather, there were few people on the road. I still kept hoping that the sky would clear and the sun would come out, but that hope was fading by the mile as it continued to rain.
Unlike the first trip, where I did not feel I sort of unearth like experience until I entered the blast zone, I started to feel this almost thirty miles from the mountain. As I drove through the valley I started to feel a cold quiet, and a sort of sorrow and grieving all around me. It was very strange, and I questioned myself, but the feeling was unmistakable. It was not happy, but sad and grieving. I still did see the signs stating the date when trees had been replanted, and there were new ones since 2000. As I got closer, I saw the “Entering the Blast Zone” sign. However, what followed the sign was different that the first time. There was more growth, and the trees were higher and more plentiful, and I did not see all the dead, burned out logs, but I still felt a sense of sadness. It did not make sense. How could there be sadness among all this new growth?
My sites were fixed on getting to the lookout point, but my hopes were dim about seeing her again because the rain and fog were getting heavier. When I finally got the same point I had been before I noticed something I had not seen prior. There was a visitor’s center now at this point. I could not take my camera out due to the rain. I decided to continue to drive further up the road toward Johnston Ridge Observatory. I questioned myself why I was doing this because the rain was very heavy, it was getting late in the afternoon, I had no hopes of seeing Mt. St. Helens, and if my car broke down, there was nobody around who might be able to help. But something was pushing me to keep going and to go past the point I had been at before. So I kept driving.
I drove several more miles and came upon a vista point called Loowit Point. For some reason I decided to stop. It was pouring rain. I left my camera in the car and walked out toward the vista point. I got as close to the edge of the short brick wall and stopped. There was a steep drop down to the valley floor. The sign in front of me said Mt. St. Helens was directly in front of me with a line drawing showing what it would look like without all the fog and rain. I stood there and listened. The direction of the rain was coming from behind me and blowing toward my back so I could see the rain go past me and down into the valley.
Unlike my drive up to Mt. St. Helens, I was not feeling sadness and grief around me. Instead, as I looked out onto the valley, I felt immense power, rebuilding and something asking for respect and recognition. (I don’t like the word “monument” to describe an active volcano. To me, monument means something that is an object that does not move. Mt. St. Helens is neither. I believe it should be respected as something quite alive and potentially dangerous. Maybe those 57 people who died in the eruption would still be alive if they realized this.)
I wished so much to see Mt. St. Helens. I said I had driven all this way and that I wanted to see her again. I could hear only the wind blowing around me. I had on a hooded rain parka and a hooded sweatshirt under the parka. I did something I had never done before. In the hard driving rain, I took off my parka hood and I took off my sweatshirt hood and just listened. I turned my head back and forth until I could hear the wind blowing in my right ear like there was a person standing next to me gently blowing in my ear. I stood as still as possible. I did not feel like I was getting wet and I did not feel cold. I kept looking in the direction of where I knew Mt. St. Helens was and said that I wanted to see her. After several minutes I saw the clouds start to briefly clear from the top of the mountain as they were blowing by. I thought I saw the side of the mountain because I could see snow, and I thought I could see the edge of the mouth and a bit inside. I was astounded. I could not believe what was happening. I kept hoping for more, but eventually the full cloud coverage came back, and the view was gone. I became aware of myself again, and I began to hear the sounds of a car engine behind me. What must these people be thinking? Another nut from California! I said “Thank You” to the mountain, and I walked back to my car, putting both my hoods back on. Though I was soaked though the jacket and into the sweatshirt and down my back, I did not feel wet or cold. I felt refreshed and exhilarated.
I drove back the hour long drove back to Highway 5, noticing a couple more highway signs that said “Spirit Lake Highway.”
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