HOOPA BLUFFS

 Of all the highways and roads I have traveled the most dangerous I can recall is California State Highway 96 between Hoopa Valley and Weitchpec, where the Trinity River meets the Klamath River.   A section of this portion is called the Hoopa Bluffs where there is a vertical rock face above the highway and a vertical drop of a few hundred feet straight down to the Trinity River.  There was a series of curves through this section with a few guard rails in some spots.   Beyond the guard rails it was straight down to the river.

When I lived and worked for Forest Service in Orleans between 1971 to 1977 it was necessary to travel this highway to seek medical attention at a clinic in Hoopa Valley or do serious shopping in the big cities of Arcata and Eureka, or just to get away to enjoy the civilized world.   On many return trips it was dark and without knowledge of this section could prove to be fatal.   If you missed a curve here there was no time for prayer as you plunged toward the river below.  

THE FINAL DEED

This task is one I have put off for some time thinking I will get to it tomorrow, then another year goes by.  We all live in denial about when the end might come.    I'm not sure how many times I have sent off for literature on the topic of what I want done after I depart this world to save my children from dealing with it all.   In many ways it is unbelievable that we have to buy a one way ticket to leave this world in peace.   Two things for sure in this life are death and taxes.   The other day a representative with the Neptune Society called me based on information I requested and talked me through the process, informing me of discounts and benefits for being a veteran, plus allowing monthly payments with no finance charge.  It was painless.  First of all, he asked me if I had access to my email account on my phone and I replied yes, but first let me find my phone, then I realized it was in my hand.   He did not comment, but probably thought this guy could go at any minute.  I could only laugh at myself.    After it was all said and done I asked the question, "what happens if I die before the balance is paid\off?"  He replied that my children would be charged the balance.  Don't worry kids, I plan to pay it off soon.   The peace of mind is worth it.  

LIVING ALONE

 Living alone has its challenges and benefits.  Trying to keep order with the day to day chores can be more than one person can handle at times when living in a remote setting where there is a yard and house to maintain, a water collection system to operate during the wet season and keeping the place warm using firewood during the winter.   In addition,  there are 20 acres of forest land to take care of which provides an escape from some of the other not so enjoyable tasks.    A routine is important to keep loneness at bay, but there is always time to reflect back on what life was like when there was the two us here to share in the daily rituals of life.  In many ways there is still the two of us here.  

 Living alone is nothing new to me.   Except for times when my children lived with me in Eugene, I spent a good part of 14 years living alone before Celia and I took up with each other in 2000.   Over the 20 years we were married many habits and routines were developed and they are hard to break.   For now I do not see myself moving to some strange place as long as I'm in fairly good health and have the support of family and friends.   Who knows what tomorrow will bring?  One thing for sure, the price for love is grief.  

 

VETERANS DAY 2022

 This is a day I reflect back on the many people in my life that served in the military, especially those that saw the horrors of combat.   Of all the family members that served in WWII and the Korean War none ever spoke in detail about what they experienced.  When I was in the Army from 1966 to 1968 I was spared from going to Vietnam due to an injury to my arm during basic training.   Because of the injury I spent 9 months in an orthopedic ward at Fort Hood, Texas, including 4 months as a patient and 5 months as a hospital corpsman waiting for further orders from above.   During my time as a corpsman I worked on that orthopedic ward where most the patients received their injuries from Vietnam, mostly from land mines.   I do not remember any of them ever talking about their ordeals.   Most the home town boys that served in the military when I did and ended up in Vietnam have passed away, some from alcoholism and others from depression related to PTSD. 

 

THE BUS ISSUE

The Lane Transit District (LTD) went as far south of Eugene as Creswell in the 1990's.  Some people in Cottage Grove car pooled to Creswell to catch the bus into Eugene, mostly students attending Lane Community College or the University of Oregon and some people working in Eugene not wanting to deal with parking problems.   The business community of Cottage Grove was against extending the district to Cottage Grove in fear that people would do more shopping in Eugene, plus they did not want to pay the .05% business tax to support the bus.    The issue was put to the voters of Cottage Grove and the business community campaigned against it telling voters they would be taxed and how business would decline locally with people doing more shopping in Eugene.   At the time LTD had routes to McKenzie Bridge, 50 miles up the McKenzie River Highway, Junction City and Veneta all supported by local businesses along those routes.   Finally the voters approved extending the transit district to Cottage Grove.   In the end nobody went out of business and there was no space taken up in the bus by shoppers bringing sheets of plywood, yard equipment, appliances or furniture back from Eugene on the bus.   Just passengers with their back packs, brief cases and lunch bags.  

THE RESTAURANTS OF EUGENE

When I lived in Eugene from 1991 to 2000 on East 26th Avenue, just a block off south Willamette Street, I could smell the different foods being cooked in a variety of restaurants up and down Willamette Street.   Depending on which way the wind was blowing  I could smell the grease from McDonalds a few blocks to the south or the smell of pastries from the bakery to the north.   It was very tempting in the evenings to just let my nose lead me down the street to whatever appealed the most.   There was everything from fast foods, pizzas, Italian, Mexican, Thai and the Glenwood restaurant serving American dishes, especially a good place for breakfast.   The Italian place was within a block and every Tuesday night it was all you could eat spaghetti night for the price of the first plate.    One of my favorites was a Korean place in the corner of the Payless Drug Store, which is gone now and replaced with a Market of Choice.   It was operated by a Korean family serving very authentic dishes and spicy.   Sometime after meeting Celia in November of 1997 we went to the Korean restaurant along with my son.   Celia decided to put some hot sauce on her dish and started violently coughing.   We had to pour water down her to quench the cough.   In the years that followed I think we ate at almost every restaurant in Eugene.  One of our favorites was the 19th Street Grill, which was close to where she worked at the Olum Child Development Center on the U of O campus.  It is now a McMenamins restaurant and on a few of our trips back to Eugene over the 20 years of our marriage we would stop at what we still called the 19th Street Grill and reminisce about our early days.  .   

         

ELECTION DAY 2022

By the end of the day none of us may see all the candidates get elected that we voted for.    In some cases it could take weeks to figure out who received the most votes and chaos may follow in some situations.  One positive thing for sure it brings an end to all the negative political TV ads.   All the money spent on these ads could have fed and clothed the poor around the world.

This reminds me of a quote by Mark Twain:

"The political and commercial morals of the United States are not merely food for laughter, they are an entire banquet."

THE DUMP

The other day I made a trip to the Oakland transfer station or as many of us call it "The Dump".  My memories drift back to my younger days growing up in Willows, California in the 1950's and 60's.   We used to load up the old pick up truck and make the drive to the county dump once or twice a month.   The dump was a series of pits where the county had dug up gravel over the years to rock and pave the many miles of county roads.  Afterwards the gravel pits, maybe an acre or two in size and 40 to 50 feet deep were used as a place to dump trash.   As we would back up to the edge of the pit along with other county residents we could see all kinds of debris thrown in the pit, including tires, appliances, furniture and God knows what else in addition to household garbage.   Fires smoldered in the pit as a toxic smell of smoke was in the air.  There was a man that looked like he had been raised in the pit that started the fires and rummaged through the debris.   He was small man in dirty clothes and with very dark skin.  There was a shack off to the side where I always thought he lived.   Not sure if he was paid by the county or what?   There were no fees for dumping there and nobody ever questioned us on what we were putting in the pit.   

Some time in the late 1970's open pit burning was banned nationwide and landfills came into existence.  The word recycling was not part of our vocabulary until the 1980's.  

14 HOUR DAYS

 This song brings back memories of farm life back in the 1960's operating some of those old combines in northern California harvesting barley, rice, safflower and milo corn.   Then in my later years working on a grass seed farm near Harrisburg, Oregon operating modern combines in the 1990's.  The one thing that never changed was the long days, many were 14 hour days.