Columbia River Maritime Museum, Astoria, Oregon

We enjoyed this first class museum with hands-on exhibits and lots of benches (I notice these things now).

Before entering the museum, I looked at the Coast Guard boat displayed in the huge glass window; it's almost standing on end. Did they have trouble fitting it in the space? Inside I learn that in heavy seas, a boat could get to this pitch.

In addition to the regular museum, we toured the Columbia Lightship, pictured above. This ship served as a floating "lighthouse" near the mouth of the Columbia River. A crew of 18 lived aboard for two or more weeks at a time.

As we went on board, a friendly volunteer advised us to go down the steep steps into the living area backwards like a ladder. Once there, I had to compare the tiny space with my only long-term sea experience, which was on a cruise ship. After 2 days at sea, that big cruise ship seemed more like a prison than a vacation. If I had to live on the Lightship, they'd have to pad the walls. (Oh, and have paper bags on all the hand rails.)

Roughing It?

One hot July day between my junior and senior years at college, I and a friend naively drove into Yellowstone expecting to get a camping spot. The ranger took pity on us and gave us a little tiny space between actual camping sites because, of course, the campgrounds were stuffed full of people, tents, RVs and vehicles. Our accommodation for the night was the cheapest plastic pup tent I could find. Our sleeping bags were the only cushion between us and the ground.

Last fall, in a nicer tent and cots, Cal and I spent the night in several national parks and monuments. It was a great trip and we saw a lot. But as an Old Broad, I claim the right to be comfortable.

Now we have a middle ground. We still have our trailer but, I'm sorry, RVing is not camping. A tent is great until you have twenty mph winds bending the tent poles nearly to the ground (which we did) and the threat of thunderstorms (we ended up staying in a motel). I also confess that my enthusiasm ebbed one morning when we pulled up the tarp and found two spiders the size of my computer mouse.

The above is our latest effort to still be camping but in comfort and in unpleasant weather. It plops right in the bed of our truck and and folds into a box for transport.

See you out there!

Where Ever I Go, There I Am

The perspective from Powell Butte Nature Park makes me think I know right where I'm going. A mile later I remember how easy it is to get lost here; well, not lost really, but momentarily misplaced. Wandering and backtracking, I manage to walk in excess of 5 miles on a 3.2 mile trail. Back at the car, I'm not disappointed with the hike. I've got no place to go and plenty of time to get there.