Sunday, June 15, 2014

A Modern Train Ride, Still An Adventure


It was a great birthday present!  "Hey, would you like to take a train ride for the day?" That's not your usual what-would-you-like-for-your-birthday question and my not-so-normal response was, "YES!" 
We spent a day on an Amtrak train and took a ride from Chemult, Oregon up to Albany, Oregon, a good days' ride with a few hours lay-over.  The station at Chemult is spartan; there is a cement platform and a slanted metal roof supported by beams and a glass wall with no seating area.
Thank heavens we didn't have to wait long.  We could hear the train blasting it's horn a mile away and once it rounded the bend, those of us who were waiting (what began as six people turned into 20 or more!) were excited to begin our journeys. Last year I was treated to an old time train ride, complete with steam locomotive at the Rio Vista Railroad Museum in Rio Vista, California.  Those cars had all been lovingly restored from the early 1900's to pristine condition by an all-volunteer group.
 
The first time I rode a train, I was five years old.  I remember stepping up into a black train and that's all I can remember, other than Mom and Dad being with me.  I believe that on that trip we also were able to sit in the viewing car. 
 
Leaving at 9:16, this ride would get us to Albany by 1:30 p.m.  After hopping on, Kevin and I found ourselves on the top tier of the passenger train, sitting in comfy, Greyhound bus-sized seats.  There was more room on the train than in a plane!  Tables attached to the seat in front dropped down and we had our choice of TWO foot rests!  Once the train began to move, we settled in for a treat of great scenery and spacious seating.
 
The ride was quiet and a little roley-poley but you don't really notice that until you try to walk down the aisle for the bathroom or snack bar.  I had been expecting that clickety-clack you hear  when watching an old western.  Now, I said the ride was quiet and I was referring to the machinery, it would have been much quieter but for the two young girls about 7 and 9 sitting behind us. Really though, they had already been on the train for three days so their crabbiness was to be a bit expected.

It wasn't long before the both of us were mesmerized by the gentle motion of the car and the greenery speeding by us.  We went from dry desert pines and sagebrush to the lush, soft greens of higher elevations; we passed cedar trees whose boughs were shaped like a Southern Bells' petticoat.  Lipstick red and cotton candy pink blossoms of wild rhododendrons were peeking up through devils' club, lemon yellow scotch broom and cream colored, lacy goats' beard.  I spotted Indian paint brush, wild strawberries and delicate daisies, deep purple lupine and the bright green of the requisite moss of the Pacific north west.  Alders with their big maple-like leaves were waving among the Douglas firs, madrones and golden chain.  Fascinating was the diversity of flora up past Crescent and Odell Lakes, sometimes the walls of the forest were so close you felt like you could touch them! 

I had my face pressed against the window when I heard behind me, "Mommy, whatta ya lookin' at? They're just treeees", "Yeah but after four months in the desert, they're nice to look at!"  Yes they are.  BLACK!!!!!!! It was so fast I pulled back from the window.  We had just gone through a tunnel and it was so sudden that it caused that reflex action and just as quickly we were back in the light again.  Soft curves and gentle rolling, I could almost go to sleep but no, I was going to ENJOY this trip.  Sleeping was for those who were just going from point A to point B or had been traveling for days already.  Once reaching altitude, the forest was tremendously thick, barely letting in enough light for new growth but surely great for all the ferns and mosses that proliferated.

Then came the descent and passing through "the valley" with a quick stop in Eugene. Flat valleys of clover, wheat, sheep and cows intertwined with 'wild' areas of the local bushes and trees, blackberry bushes left to make wildlife areas.

Coming down, the pines began to disappear but the madrones and alders, scotch broom and poplars took over.  There was something that looked like either magenta crown vetch or a wild pea, but dang, couldn't get the conductor to slow down for a look...

I was amazed at how close some peoples'  homes were, lots of them sitting out in their backyards on that sunny and warm Saturday, having barbecues or playing tag football would wave as we passed by.  Only one idiot showed his lack of class by giving us the one-digit salute.  Yep, yer kool.  It was so interesting to see what people could do with so little space in their backyards, or didn't do.  And then there were the industrial sections.  I have never BEEN to the busy train yards or wandered through real car junk yards.  It was kind of cool to watch one of those magnet tractors lift up a huge ton of metal.  There was an area where the train slowed to a cruise, probably about 25 m.p.h., going over a temporary bridge while construction was being done to build a new bridge over a river.  I loved seeing that little boat at the end of the movie being transported from side to the other.  I saw people living in construction yards, old warehouse yards and under bridges.  I was just interested in EVERYTHING.

Albany arrived at 1:30 and we eagerly exited the train, being greeted by a lovely and functional train station, complete with 1890's restored train depot.  It still smelled old but it was clean, had a ticket counter, old wooden church benches, pamphlets and a bathroom where I encountered a strange young lady.  At first I thought she was a homeless person, you could smell her right away and she was frantically tearing all the paper towels out of the dispenser, stuffing them in her shoulder bag.  Her sky-blue makeup encircled her eyes like a 3 year old's artwork and she admonished me to "DO NOT drink the water!  Did you know water is a sorceress?!!".  She continued to mumble on and then washed her hands.  I got out of there as quick as I could, later I saw her with a  very clean, older gentleman.  I don't know that story...

Kevin and I walked over to a little restaurant, ordered some fish and chips and ice tea while we waited for the lay-over to pass.  It was a very nice train station; quite a number of seating areas with benches and metal slanted roofs dispersed among rock gardens and water fountains.  There were numerous photos of the late 1800's enlarged and framed with historical notes.




 




Shortly it was time to board the incoming southbound train and once again, I was surprised by the amount of travelers!  This time, there were at least 50 or more people and the train was fully loaded.  Still, all was completed in good time and the train left on schedule.  This time we sat in the parlor car, with upholstered bench seats and a big table.  We did spy an area that had the Captain's chairs and couch-type seating where you faced the huge viewing windows.  That was fun to watch everything pass by like a speeding movie!  And this time we sat on the opposite side of the car so we saw something a little different, more open on this side rather than mostly land walls.  All in all, it was a fabulous birthday gift.

Madrone

Goatsbeard

Scotch Broom/Bush

Wild Rhododendron


Saturday, May 3, 2014

Fractured-Smactured Still Felt BROKEN


Have you ever broken a rib?  I know a few people who have never broken ANY bone, but all of mine tended to consist only my toes.  Now, those are bad enough to break; they hurt like hell and you can't do anything for them anyway.  If it is the big toe you can cut out a piece of your slipper (and no, the thought of wearing flip-flops is terrifying!) or wear a bigger shoe for the other toes along with the requisite amounts of aspirin or tylenol.  Usually when I would break a toe--have had three and one of them twice--it was because I was running; running away from something or running into something.  My first broken toe occurred when I was about 16 and hurriedly ran into our teeny, tiny bathroom when I learned it was a good idea to open the door first and THEN enter rather than to try and do both simultaneously, which produced copious amounts of "GAAAAHHH!!!AHHHHHWHOOOO!!!" all the while dancing on the un-injured foot while holding the injured foot in a flamingo-style hold. (Yeah yeah, run-on sentence but who cares, look where it got Hemmingway.)

The second time I broke a toe I was close to 35 and we were living in an old, farm-style house with a covered front porch and swing-out screen door.  For some reason I was running out that slamming-screen-front door when my right foot encountered the sturdy and un-moveable foot of an old wooden-framed, bright blue leather couch (you know, the kind with wooden wagon wheels on the side for looks) on the front porch.  
Once again I purged the pain with"GAAAAAHHHHAHOOOOYARRRGGHHH!!!!" and again performed the pink flamingo dance with hot tears streaming down my face. It was the same toe previously broken...

The other two toes were broken along the same lines and not quite as memorable as the first one but still as painful all the while.  Until...and now we're 59 years old, in the PRIME of life, you know? I've become a little slower, a little more careful about a few things.  But it doesn't matter how old you are or how careful you are when your foe is ice and snow.  They will get you.  Laying there all pretty and silent, glistening in the early morning sunlight, so sparkly and innocent.

I had just driven into the parking lot at work, it was February 19th, 2014.  I had an early shift that day.  It was 7:30 a.m. and I still had a good half hour until clocking on so I took my time getting out of the car, leaning inside to get my lunchbag and purse.  All good so far as I hooked one bag on my left shoulder and one bag on my right shoulder, closed the car door and proceeded on the snow-blanketed asphalt.  Three feet in front of the car my right foot went out from underneath me and I landed with a wrestlers' slam dunk on my right side.  I couldn't breathe.  It knocked the wind out of me and when you try to breathe nothing happens, it's a little scary.  I put my head back down and laid there for a few moments, trying to relax.  My breath finally came back and I pulled my splayed legs back in a together position, arms were still splayed out and contents of the purse were scattered.  But hey, the lunchbag on my right side was still secure! 

Things felt...different, thick, is the best way to describe it.  I was able to recover and get up and felt a little stiff.  I remember thinking, "Okay, don't feel any sharp pain, I don't hear clicking so I must be okay and if I keep moving I'll work out the kinks."  I proceeded into work, clocked on at 8:00 a.m. and mentioned the fall to a few people. By 8:30 things were getting a little tight, I had already shoveled 400 pounds of ice into the fish bin and washed the dishes AND the huge ice bin, rolled it back into the cooler. In short, I finally was able to go home by 11:00 a.m. 

Long story short: I went to the E.R. and had an x-ray taken, the doctor told me I had fractured two ribs (number 6 and 7) and that I was NOT going to work for at least a week, she handed me some Workmans' Comp papers and sent me home with "We don't wrap people anymore, just take it easy and rest, don't lift or push and call your physician in the morning". 

So began the next few weeks of recovery, to which I thought, "This trumps a toe any day, even twice".  You can hardly breathe, you don't DARE cough--which splits the ribs in an excruciating way, can't sneeze, etc., etc.  Well, if you have to cough because you have allergies that make you do this, you quickly devise a way to do it that causes the least amount of pain.  And you learn to eat, rest and sleep in an upright position for a few weeks.  The urge to lay down is as powerful as wanting a candy bar/smoke/drink/whatever.  Pain medications vary from one person to another and the first ones they gave me just made me sick, the second prescription took the edge off the pain but I wasn't fuzzy headed--hmm, may have just found the cure for my usually fuzzy headed thinkin'.

I end this tale with the hopes that I will NEVER break another rib and I am so terribly cautious about tripping and falling now.  I carry a pair of ice grippers in the emergency box in the trunk of my car.  I like to see stars but I don't want to see them that way again!

Spring! Yay! Finally!

SPRING...

....back into normal.  Spring is great for the renewal of heart and soul.  And having something to write about!  Last February I was taken out of the writing equation for awhile due to the fact that on my way to work,  I slipped and fell, fracturing two ribs on the right side (numbers 6 and 7 for you purists). Fractured-smactured, felt like they were BROKEN and recovery still took 6 weeks.  They still let me know they are there once in awhile.

ANYWAY...

It will be Mother's Day soon, I work in a grocery store and am constantly reminded of the coming holidays, mostly MONTHS in advance, so that by the time it gets here, I have forgotten the actual DAY.  I am already planning on getting my cards tomorrow when I go to work, coming home and signing them and mailing them dutifully on Monday.  Or Tuesday.  They'll still get there in time.

THE POINT...

I was reading a facebook thread today that just made me giggle and I will post the conversation forthwith.  Names have been changed to protect the slothful.  Or innocent.  Or parent.
(This begins with the parent of a set of young lady daughters, having to do with their responsibilities of calling on an important day/whatever that may be...)



Okay Girls...
Hubby says there is a phone.... he is not on facebook... and he was expecting you both to of given us a call on our day... yep ....LOL

Reader: Uh oh..Momma's angry!

Daughter: You were doing you! We wanted to let you two be together without inturruption. You know we love you Pops!

Me: Good recovery, Daughter . I like Mom's note about Pops having a phone. I find these days that young people don't like TALKING but they can text up a storm. It does seem to be a symptom of the younger generation...oh what can one do?

Daughter: That's funny. I call often. It's not a recovery when I know the time is precious and needed. Thanks for the retort though.

Me: Anytime, that's what other mothers are for. And my dear, you are an angel indeed! She didn't say THAT PART, lol! Remember, we're talking a mothers' point of view, which will always be slanted more towards "You never call..."

I am a mother. I'm sure I'll know. 
 
Daughter: And I'm speaking from the daughters of my mother. Mum, don't think we haven't been checking your posts and seeing how happy you are. Love you and hope you enjoyed the time with Pops.

Me: Lol! Oh..yes, you will! I have been trying to tell my daughter lately about that other issue, The Guilt Trip. It comes with the territory..
 
 
MORAL : There is no moral to this story, it was just a topic that I thought was "normal".
 




Friday, December 13, 2013

2013 in Review or..My Annual Christmas Letter




 
 
 
 
 
                    
Wow! Perfect! Epic!
Those three little, over-used words of this year surely describe 2013 for this household. That’s the only time you’ll hear them from me, soooo over these, like ten minutes ago, dude.  

   In April I was able to complete a lovely round-trip vacation through Redding, Folsom, Walnut Creek, Rio Vista, Campbell and South Lake Tahoe. Because Kevin was waiting on call for work, I went solo. This was a fun ‘reunion’ trip which included an overnight stay with a new old friend; we knew each other in high school but were not social. Due to the Face
Book format, Bill, Connie and I have been forming a beautiful friendship. Wonderful what age and time CAN do. Treasured friends, my brother and sister-in-law, and my mom—one of the best trips of my lifetime. Rode a train in Rio Vista, did a little jammin’ with Hal and Joanne and stopped to enjoy a too-short visit with Terri at South Lake Tahoe. Childhood friend Debbie and I had a great dinner and may have even heard a ghost, hmmm? To this day she still doesn’t know what that weird sound was that we heard late that night.
Beginning in late March, Kevin and I broke out the kayaks- more this time than any other season and we’ve hit all but three lakes that are on our list, one that was a pleasant surprise! Taylor Lake on the Cascade Lakes highway is an absolute gem, difficult to get to but oh so worth the high mountain roller coaster drive. We were able to squeeze in a camping event on that one.
In June, Sara and I completed our six month planned, 10,358 foot summit hike of South Sister. I began walking in March, thinking I was pretty prepared for this trek. I could hardly walk for three days after we “came down off the mountain”. Let me tell you, coming down is just as difficult as going up; using different muscles and straining different parts of the body. Uphill your heels get sore, downhill your toes start screaming long before you’re halfway down the trail. A great bonding experience to have with one’s adult daughter. Later in the year we shared another fun ride; zip lining at Tree-to-Tree adventures in Gaston. FUN! Maybe a whitewater raft trip next year…
Kevin and I are both thankful for our health (yes, we have an issue or two at our age), we are rich in having a loving family fairly close and many good friends. We can feel our ages when we watch our two grandsons now climbing knot ropes or the youngest one starting school. It was just yesterday they were baby boys…
I count my blessings every day and I am thankful for being able to live in this country where we are free to believe in Jesus without being burned at the stake. Happy Birthday to our Lord and Savior.
(I must add that due to my OLD age, I added in an adventure that took place LAST year!!!) The hike up South Sister was in August of 2012...wow, still feels like yesterday!)
 


Monday, November 25, 2013

 
Facebook Chat:
 
 
 
Jane A. Thompson


 
Sitting on the couch watching the morning news and we hear this scratching noise...Kevin says, "What's that?" I'm like, "I dunno"...he gets up and opens the front door and there was a little gray squirrel. THEY KNOW WHERE THE PEANUTS ARE NOW!!





  • 2 like this
  • Bill  Or at least the "Two Nuts" sitting on the couch!! hehehehe
     
  •  Patrick that's great!
     
  • Jane A. Thompson It's hilarious--they see us through the windows and they sit on the deck railing and pound on it, "Get OUT HERE and FEED us!!" Talk about the new Peeping Tom, lol!
     
  •  
     Patrick that's very funny! (they sound like our hummingbirds chastising us when their feeders are empty.)
     
  •  
    Jane A. Thompson Pretty soon, we'll be having to SNEAK outside. Every now and then when I am heading out for work, they'll run up to me and stand on their little hind feet, that poor/pitiful little face staring at me. And then when they're gnawing through the walls of my house I don't feel so...um...what's the word I want?
  •  
    Bill  Pissed????
     
  •  
    Sara  Uh oh, they are going to try to break in now!
     
  •  
    Jane A. Thompson That's one...lol! Last year we had a little Douglas that got in the walls and at night, when it was soooo very quiet...it would begin it's midnight snacking. Chewing the walls like a buzz saw in a log cutting contest. I was SURE the house was going to come down soon. I could SEE it in my minds' eye and that one day the house would just fall...
     
  • Jane A. Thompson Next they'll gang up and surround the windows wearing masks and carrying pine sticks for swords...
  •  
    Jane A. Thompson It IS creepy to 'feel' them staring at you because our windows are low to the floor. There's a table out there and they can sit on it, be right at eye level when you turn around...
     
  • Jane A. Thompson I guess I will have really lost my mind when I think I can understand them...those will be the voices I will hear for eternity. Lol!!
     
  • Jane A. Thompson




Thursday, July 4, 2013

The Fantastic Magazmic Road Tour of April, 2013


 
The dream began over a year ago, always in the back of my mind to do a trip and see nothing but friends and loved ones, and to squeeze in as many as I possibly could. 
I completed my 10 day whirlwind trip last month from Thursday, April 18th to Sunday, April 28th, 2013.  There were to be nine to ten people I was going to try and see and I was fortunate enough to get all but two in, not bad for a trip with a lot of people involved.
Several components were involved in building this mini-adventure and I thank God for being able to have found several friends through the use of Classmates.com and Face Book.  Without those two social media sites, I would not have been able to have visited old family friends or high school friends!
As usual, I like to begin packing about a week before trips, that way I don’t forget the little things like toothpaste or deodorant, although I did leave the toothpaste tube on the bathroom counter at home.  I bought one on the road and it will now fill my pre-pak travel kit.  By the time D-Day arrived I was pretty well set with clothes for all kinds of weather or events.  You never know what kinds of things are going to pop up.
Finally, Thursday broke bright and sunshiny and I headed out of the driveway by 10:30 a.m. 
My son had made a CD and loaned it to me for the ride so I popped that in and the first tune belted out was Alicia Keys’ “This Girl is on Fire!”  With all the windows rolled down I pointed my nose W/SW and merrily car-sang that tune several times until I hit the highway.
About two hours later I had crossed the Oregon/California border and kept Mt. Shasta as my viewpoint for quite awhile.  A great first sight on that clear, blue sky day.  About two and half hours later my GPS dashboard girl friend brought me to the front door of my first stop; Bill and Connie Jensen in Redding, California.  I knew Bill in high school forty one years ago and met his wife Connie through our email letters.  Bill and I connected through Face Book, Mark Zuckerbergs’ famous online social gathering.






 
Bill and Connie have been married 39 years and hearing about how they met and fell in love was cute and funny, great to see them still together and beating the odds of many of the rest of us. 
Connie put together a delicious barbecue chicken dinner while Bill took me over to the Sun Dial Bridge in Redding—very cool structure!
 

All three of us stayed up until about 10:30 just catching up on old times and friends, who we knew,  who was gone and who we’d seen last.  Connie had to go to work the next morning so we called it a night and headed off to bed.
Since I had a couple of hours to spare before heading out to the next destination, Bill loaded the kayaks into his truck around 7:30 a.m. and we drove to Whiskey Town Lake.  By 8:00 a.m. we were coffee’d up, geared up and on the lake.







 It was a bit breezy but not cold and once we got paddling we warmed up nicely.  The wind died down shortly thereafter and we continued to enjoy the clear skies and serenity of the early morning.  We saw quite a number of birds; bald eagles (at which Bill said he couldn’t recall seeing any in this area before), cormorants, a blue heron, ospreys and crows.  During our easy paddling we watched a bald eagle swoop down and snag a fish with its claws.  Pretty magical there.
 

 
The second leg of the trip was a stop in Folsom, California at Marsha and Kent Harris’ house.  Marsha and I were friends in high school and a little bit afterwards.  One of our memories included a trip to Lake Tahoe together in my pretty little yellow  1967 “Le Goat”—the front end of which had GTO on the front grill and the rear end was marked “Le Mans”.  I don’t know how it got that way but I loved that car…
 
Marsha looks the same as she did in high school and the best part is, you can’t miss her beautiful and cheerful smile.  Always sweet and kind and lots of fun and she is still that way.  Marsha and Kent just bought a brand new home and were only in it for a week before my visit so it still had “new home” smell, certainly better than new car!
 
That evening Kent took the three of us in for a quick stop at a local tavern so we could hoist a few margaritas and salute old times.  Afterwards we walked the old town section of Folsom, wandering the short, touristy street, stopping in at the huge corner candy store where we bought some fudge and hard cinnamon candies.   The next stop was dinner at Viscontis’, a wonderful Italian restaurant where the owner cruises between tables, inquiring about the meals in his beautiful Italian accent. 
Very soon the evening was closing and it was time to return home where Marsha and I put on our ‘comfies’ and sat on the couch, reminiscing about youth, old life and good friends.
 Next stop: Rio Vista, California, to visit my brother Pat and his wife Cathie.  I entered their address in my trusty dashboard GPS and her wooing voice instructed me to head in a direction that seemed odd—north—but I did it anyway knowing that I could always pull over and turn around/change direction and she’d start over again.  So far, “she” had delivered me to everyone’s front door without incident. 
 
I got out of busy Folsom just fine and was eventually directed onto a six lane highway on Saturday afternoon.  At 2:30 p.m. I was trapped in full-blown bumper-to-bumper-doing-10-miles-per-hour traffic.  Saturday??  Just WHERE was everyone going?  The other six lanes of traffic heading south were virtually empty.  You would have thought it was 5:00 p.m. on a Friday.  The scary part was people simply pull right in front of you if there’s a one inch space between your front bumper and the rear bumper of the car ahead.  Just push right in.  And then the flowing mass of metal would speed up to 25 and slow down again.  I soon caught on that this was due to two merging lanes at a time, about every mile for, well, forever it seemed, but in reality it was probably about six miles.  Most of this crammed-in, metal blob lasted for the entire forty miles it took to get on the highway that pointed me to the east.   It took an hour to drive that freeway in the flat, dry and hazy Sacramento area.  My knuckles relaxed off the steering wheel and GPS gave the rest of her directions in that soft, soothing voice of hers without incident.
 I arrived at Pat and Cathie’s that Saturday, relieved and tired and so warmly welcomed on that late, sunny afternoon.  Cathy had put a stew on earlier and the whole house was enveloped in that wonderful, meaty aroma.  I put my things in the spare room, we got something cool to drink and planted ourselves on the back patio for some catch-up talk.  It’s almost always breezy in Rio Vista, being in the delta area, so when it reaches 85 degrees it is still comfortable. 





Oh, and I forgot about Chica!  Last year Pat and Cathie got a new little dog, a miniature pincher.  She may be teeny but she has big attitude and now she knows she runs the house.  That little rascal can fly from one room to another, a little black blur with big eyes! 
 
I had planned to stay with Pat and Cathie for that Saturday, Sunday and Monday. A chance to just visit, talk, eat and catch up on family news events and to relax and enjoy each others’ company.  I did just that! 
Sunday we drove over to the Rio Vista Railroad Museum (the last time I was there was when Michael and Sara were 6 and 7 years old! We were there with my dad and step-mom).
 
There was the museum itself with books and postcards and various other items you could purchase, along with the posted times and costs of the train rides.  There were different excursions that day; a short 5 minute tour on one of the smaller cars and another one on the larger train that took you on a 7 mile loop.  The three of us hopped on the mini-tour and thoroughly enjoyed it, the smells of the wood and leather, listening to the wheels clickity-clacking over the rails.  Above our heads were advertisements of the day (1930’s) and for fresh air you could raise up the wooden window, “Just don’t stick your arms or heads out because the windows have been known to slam down”, the conductor told us.

 
This museum is all-volunteer run, these guys do it because they love being around these trains.  You can feel the love and you know they really enjoy wearing their conductor uniforms.
 

 When the mini-tour was over, Pat and Cathie and I went over to the snack shop and got a hot dog and Coke while Cathie got a really intense chocolate ice cream.  We sat down at a picnic table and enjoyed the slight breeze, the sunshine, our snacks and watching jack rabbits play around the huge landscaped lawn area.

Soon we heard the train a’comin’, we were excited to get on board the big one, feel the rocking and rolling of the cars and check out the scenery as we rolled along.
The conductor gave us a short story about how and what these trains were used for “back in the day” and that many of the messages to be passed on to other trains and conductors were either left in a mail bag hanging on posts or that certain bags were in a particular place-which meant that a train was either coming and they should be headed to another track or whether it was safe to proceed. Sometimes they stopped the train so that these mail bags could be retrieved and sometimes the conductor simply leaned out and yanked them off the poles as the train slowed down to do so.
 
On one of these particular passes we actually LOST our conductor!  There were two conductors, one ‘rail worker’ and about ten passengers on the train and as we were rocking along, a young girl about 8 years old and in the car in front of us, yelled out that someone fell off the train!   A male passenger in our car then yelled out, “Man down!  Man down!  Stop the train, someone has fallen off the train!”   Of course there was a bit of confusion as to whom it was that fell off the train but within seconds it was determined that it was one of the conductors. 
 
It was only a matter of minutes before the car was slowed down and we were in back-up mode, we hadn’t gone far from the above telephone post where we saw the crumpled heap of black and white laying motionless against the pole.  He was face down in the dirt and he was not moving when the car stopped.  Another passenger volunteered that she knew CPR and sprang out of her seat to help.  Several people got off the train to help, not all of us so that there would be plenty of room for action.  They said they could hear his raspy breathing but that he wasn’t moving.  His head was bleeding profusely, someone peeked in the door and asked for a scarf or spare shirt to wrap around his head, I offered the one Pat and I had stashed in my purse earlier, “In case I get cold”, Pat said.  The rest of us sat in our seats, silently praying that he would be okay since everyone’s first thought was that he was dead.  None of us thought he could have survived that fall out the open door at 25 to 30 miles an hour.
 Since we were in a narrow stretch of the run, two people were out on the high ground calling 911 for help, they were able to reach emergency services and within a ten minute period, an ambulance truck and fire engine had been dispatched and arrived, straddling the tracks as they drove to our position.
It was soon decided that we passengers would disembark the big train and reload on the small one we’d been on earlier and return to the main passenger loading zone.  We were all quiet and concerned about the status of our pleasant and knowledgeable conductor, Cliff.

 
Approaching the main gate, the second train conductor offered to call anyone who was interested in knowing Cliff’s condition if they would leave a business card or piece of paper with a name and phone number.
We all returned solemn about the event that just occurred when the remaining conductor said, “We are very sorry that your train ride has been ruined” and I replied, “The only way this would be ruined is if Cliff is NOT okay, this is no fault of yours and hey, things happen!”
 
Later on after dinner as we were sitting out on the back patio, Cathy received a call from #2 Conductor and he related to us that Cliff was doing okay!  “No broken bones but quite a few bruises and contusions, but all good considering and they’re keeping him overnight for observation”.  That was the icing on the cake for that day.  Pat, Cathy and I were so happy to hear that he was going to be fine.  Whew!
Monday came and we decided to just lay low, take it easy, talk and talk and share memories of mom and dad, older brother Rick and various other family things that came to mind.  Cathy went and picked up Kentucky Fried Chicken for dinner and while she was gone, Pat played his guitar for me.  I loved it.  I remember when he came home from the Army (1970?), teaching himself how to play…
 



What a great memory I have of my brother Pat.  I have a great memory of Cathy putting a bikini outfit on Chica, too.  Chica is their miniature Pincher they got last year, she’s still a pup but oh boy, does she have “I OWN this place” attitude, ha ha. 
Monday arrived all sunshiny and beautiful, we had a lovely breakfast and then Pat and Cathy decided to wash my car!  That was so nice of them to do that, I was going to and simply ran out of time when I was getting ready for the trip.
 
Tuesday came and I was pointed towards Walnut Creek to spend a day and night with my step-mom whom I hadn’t seen since my dad died in October of 2013.  Wow, hard to believe he’s been gone that long.
But, I got to mom’s house and when she opened the door, I thought she looked great, just great!  She’s a busy woman, she exercises and walks and helps out her neighbors with personal care or small chores.  Their isn’t a whole lot of sit-down time with her, I see mom going for quite a long time.
It was kind of strange being in the house and dad not there, although mom seemed to switch from past-tense to present when she was talking about dad.





Sadly, the pictures I took of mom on my phone I ended up losing, don’t know what happened to them, maybe I can get her to send me one or two.
It was great to see her, mom’s in great shape and it was hard to go, too.  I am so glad she was a part of this journey. 
 
Getting to Walnut Creek I was able to get two people in this stop; mom and my childhood friend, Debbie Wiley.  We’ve been through some times together, that girl and I.  We met in first or second grade, can’t remember which and don’t think it matters a whole lot.  Her mother and my mother shared Room Mother duties way back then. Debbie and I shared a lot of recesses together and an event that happened in our 6th grade teachers’ class (Mr. Last) will forever be etched in my math memory.  I’ll just let that stay in the memory books.
We had Girl Scout times, some shared friend’s times, even went and stayed at her parents’ cabin in Soda Springs (by Truckee) once.  I remember getting homesick and I remember we had a “snipe hunt”; we all grabbed pillows and went out into the woods after dark supposedly trying to catch a snipe.  Then there was the time after graduation that we borrowed her brothers’ big ol’ flesh colored bus-truck and drove up the cabin area, we were going to go camping!  Just us girls.  We drove onto a dirt road and were going to camp there but for some reason we left, I don’t remember if we were run out of there or got scared and I think we went to the cabin, can’t remember all the details.
 
Anyway, I waited at mom’s and finally Debbie called me at 7:00 p.m. on Wednesday evening, she’d just gotten home from her work as librarian in Fairfield.  She says her commute isn’t bad, better than if she were going the other way. 
I hurried on over and as I got there, Deb was fixing hamburgers.  It was just wonderful to see my good friend of 52 years.  We sat and reminisced about funny things, our parents and our families, some good and some bad.  And of course, never enough time. 
Two kind of funny things happened while I was there; as Debbie and I were sitting at the table (the one above) we both heard a very strange sound that came from the kitchen; it was a cross between a moan and the sound a smoke alarm makes when the battery is dyeing.  Neither the dog nor the cats reacted to this noise and her back door was open, no ‘critters’ were trying to get in.  I thought it might have been a raccoon but since the dog was outside and he didn’t behave differently, that thought kind of went out the window.  Ultimately, we never did figure out what that strange noise was.
Since Debbie had to get up and go to work the next morning, I asked her to go ahead and wake me; she said she got up about 7 or so.
We both hit the pillows around 10:00 p.m., wishing we could stay up more but alas, work schedules rule.  I went to sleep quickly in a huge, soft bed, made me feel like a princess it was so big! 
About 5:30 or 6:00 a.m. I heard a knock on the door and then it opened—I said, “Debbie? Are you up?” and there was no reply.  I got up and looked around into the kitchen, I saw no lights and heard no sounds so I went back to bed pondering this new event.  The door that led to my room was not a light door, rather solid and stout so it shouldn’t have just ‘eased’ open.  I mentioned it to Debbie when she did get up and she was just as surprised as I was.  There have been no new noises since my visit…
The next stop on my vacation was down in Campbell, California, about 2 and a half to 3 hours away, depending on the time of day one leaves and hit the traffic on the freeways.  I left about 10:00 a.m and had no problems with excessive traffic, no slowdowns and plenty of room on the road. 
I programmed my little GPS friend and she got me on the freeway headed south, made all the right exits and lane changes and did just great all the way to Hal and Joanne Carroll’s’ house---well, almost.  This was the first time that I was short-changed by one block.  Their address is 1395 and Miss GPS kept telling me I was at their door when I was really at 1295.  I am not going to complain, after all, I wasn’t headed down a snowy road out in the wilderness as some people have been led. 



There was the Carroll homestead, little white fence out front; yard full of orange and lemon trees, rose bushes lined the front porch and a signature statue-fountain under the living room window.  I pulled up into the driveway and gave a little honk to warn my friends I had arrived.  Within seconds Hal came out the door with welcoming arms and Joanne was close behind.  I have known Hal since high school and Joanne in just the last few years.  Hal has always been and still is one of those rare people who are genuinely full of love and care for all kinds of animals and people.  Always a respectful young man and generous in his friendship and kindness, it is nice to see he hasn’t lost any of those qualities as he has matured.  Joanne is busy and bright with a quick sense of humor and makes you feel as if you have always known her.  They are a remarkable couple to have as friends.  If you look closely you will see a picture of me and Sara on their “Friends Wall”, we are the second one down and second to the right, Hal and Joanne’s’ is the  3rd picture down and on the left.  Kevin and I are the second picture down from the top red picture, second to the right.


 
I may get my meals mixed up since I spent three days there but it doesn’t matter, they treated me so wonderful while I was there, I hope to be able to reciprocate the same kind of hospitality to any of my friends should they be able to stop in at our house on a future trip.
I believe the day I arrived we went downtown for dinner and I had some ribs.  Our next day was a lunch downtown where we shared two different kinds of pizza while dined at sidewalk tables and listened to the busy sounds of town life. 

The first night Joanne and I went together to her carving class, now I have been to this class with her before but this time I was able to participate by practicing with a burning tool.  She gave me a little sheet of wood and began some simple instructions on different ways to make feathers, dots, and lines that look like fur or hair on a carved piece.  It was fun to try this and I brought my practice piece home where Kevin inserted a marble; when I hang it in the sunlight the marble will be a light director!  I got this idea from an internet site where someone had inserted marbles all along a wooden fence and when the sun hit those marbles just right, it was quite a light show.
 
 





 Joanne has a friend she walks with in the mornings so I was invited to come along, get some of the kinks out of my legs from driving and sitting.  I’m not used to walking city blocks so it was interesting to see man-made landscaping again, the various plants that grow down in Campbell as opposed to what I can grow here in La Pine.  One of our walks included the percolation ponds where there is quite an extensive paved path system for both bike riders and walkers.  Lots of wildlife over there, too!  The Canada geese were just taking their young broods out for park visits; we spotted ducks with their chicks swimming madly behind mom and dad, trying to keep up.  There were white egrets in the trees on the islands and on the last leg of the walk we spotted a lonesome white swan.
 
The ending to this beautiful day?  We celebrated with Hal’s homemade macaroni salad and barbecued ribs out in the backyard on the patio, surrounded by flowering greenery and singing birds. 


 
 
The weather was beautiful; warm and welcoming, not too hot for this ol’ gal from Oregon.  I had mentioned to Hal and Joanne, during this visit, something about “a full monty”, and not really knowing what it meant.  “Well Janie, you’re in luck because we HAVE that movie!  I think we should watch it so you’ll know what “a FULL MONTY means”.  And we did…it was hilarious.  I had heard this silly comment before but didn’t REALLY know what it meant, what a great comedic end to the day, indeed.
 
Next morning we were treated to homemade Belgian waffles with some of that jam that Joanne is famous for making (some of which I helped make on this visit)

I didn’t climb any mountains or rescue any people, I didn’t create a miracle or cure a disease, what I did do was have a magical and wonderfully peaceful and loving vacation.  Never quite had one like this, enjoying so many friends and seeing family. Definitely a once-in-a-lifetime event.
 My three days of visiting the Carroll’s Camp was over, packing again and getting ready to leave at 6:00 a.m. the next day and headed towards South Lake Tahoe where I would meet up with another high school friend (actually, since 7th and 8th grade!), Terri Beauchamp.
I hadn’t driven the expressways and freeways of California in a long time so hitting the road early on a Sunday morning was great and as the sun was coming up over the rolling green and fog-shrouded hills, I breathed in a sigh of satisfaction.  It was beautiful but short-lived.  The fog dissipated quickly and the air had a strange, sort of industrial aroma to it.
Entering South Lake Tahoe as a destination point in my GPS, I felt fairly confident I wasn’t going to get led too far astray.  I was able to take some lovely winding back roads through the gold country, places I hadn’t been in years, through Jackson where my parents and I used to visit old family friends.  Oak trees, old barns, and 1940’s trucks rusting out behind old gas stations—I loved it. 
It wasn’t long before I was gaining elevation and climbing the hills of the southern edge of Lake Tahoe.
When I hit town, I called Terri and we met up in a parking lot across from a Subway sandwich shop (after missing several connecting points because this town had two of a few of the same things).  We headed over to the Subway and bought some sandwiches and a drink, then headed to a nice little beach where Terri and I sat and started to catch up on life.  We had not seen each other in 40 years, where do you start “in a nutshell” was able to spend two hours with her, it was so sweet to see her, hear about her life and know she is doing well. She is still a funny, sweet and beautiful woman; she was the cherry on top of the cupcake of my trip.  Thank you for sharing this with me, Dear Friend!
Of course our visit wasn’t long enough but you take what you can get and I loved every minute of it!  Time to hit the road again, the time was about 12:30 in the early afternoon.  According to the GPS, I would arrive home between seven and eight hours of driving—if you don’t stop.
I tend to enjoy the scenery but one person did slow me down a bit.  I was winding through the hills on the downside of Tahoe, around 2:00 p.m. when I came up behind a man in a bright red Mustang convertible.  He was cruising, and I mean cruuuu-sing along, enjoying the wind in his hair, the sunshine on his head and stunning scenery of the valley off to our right.  At 50 miles per hour. 
 
I followed him at this speed for several miles since the option to pass wasn’t a viable choice.  Finally, with a little bit of a stretch ahead of us, I went on past and as I did so, this white-sleeved hand gently stretched up over his head, waving parade-like as I went by.  Oh, to have that much time….
 I had about five more hours to recap in my mind all the wonderful (and scary!) moments of this unique trip.  How many people said they wished they could do the same thing and how fun it seemed to be?  All the reconnects of family and people I hadn’t seen in so long.  It was truly my most magical trip.