Yes, We Have No Bandanas

Dateline St. Paul, Minnesota 7/11/09

When you make twenty three hotel stops in forty days, some for multiple nights and some not, you cannot go undefeated. Sooner or later, you will get a dumb hotel in a dumb place. It is amazing that we were on the road for 33 nights before we encountered this statistical inevitability.

I have to say we could not have done any better with our venues on this trip. We picked some hotels from our past experience; many my assistant Martha researched after I told her where I wanted to stay. She has done a phenomenal job. But in St. Paul, our luck runs out, in part because I tell her I want to stay in St. Paul, and not Minneapolis. We have a reservation at a place called the Best Western Bandana Square in St. Paul. Martha showed me where it was on the map, and I cast no blame on her whatsoever. The hotel was a converted streetcar barn, it was fairly near St. Paul's Cathedral, and although it was not a premium hotel brand, it sounded like it would be fun and after all, this was a one night stopover.

In the first place, I have always been a little skeptical of Minnesotans. I don't get Nordic stoicism, Nordic humor, Garrison Keillor (if he is an example of Nordic humor), or why people would live in a place this damn cold, on purpose. They once elected TV wrestler Jesse Ventura as Governor, and now they have literally elected a clown for a U.S. Senator. Don't get me wrong; to be bipartisan, Governor Mark Sanford (R) of South Carolina is obviously a clown too, after he told his wife he was going for a walk in the Appalachians and wound up with his girlfriend in Argentina. But Sanford didn't have "clown" on his resume, until now. Al Franken had it on his resume and got elected anyway.

To give the Senate credit, they went along with the joke and put Al on the Judiciary Committtee to help vet Judge Sotomayor's nomination. I think blonde jokes must have originated in Minnesota, as well as blond jokes.

Anyway, the joke is on me, because as we approach the hotel from our trip across the backroads of Iowa and Minnesota, the navigation system ticks off the miles- to- go and I can see peripherally that my co-pilot does not like what she sees as the miles dwindle and finally turn into fractional miles. We pass a minor league baseball stadium where the Double A St. Paul Saints are playing the Sioux City Explorers, which makes me think that a gentrified renaissance area is just around the corner, because there are a ton of people marching to this game and filling the large ballpark. But, when we make the last turn, we arrive at a perfectly decent-looking building that appears to be situated in an office park.

This is better than being in a bad neighborhood of ill-behaved people, and I point out to my disappointed crew that we cannot stay every night at the Waldorf-Astoria, and that sometimes you just have to stay in Waldorf. This failed to produce any laughs so I told my sherpas to get to work.

We checked in and hauled our loads to our rooms which were not connected. I noticed that there appeared to be a large family reunion in the hotel, or maybe a wedding reception, based on the throngs of folks gathered in the lobby who all seemed to know one another. After we unloaded all the bags, Connie went out to do something while I watched Fiona in our room. From the next room, there was a tremendous racket of hollering, yelling and screaming. I could hear most of the profane discourse clearly through our air conditioning vent. Also, although our room was designated as non-smoking, I could smell smoke through the vents coming into our room. (lest I seem holier-than-thou, this is merely payback for my past bad behavior, I know).

I go out into the hall and the smell of cigarette smoke is thick. Also, two more large braided Rastafarians are knocking on the door of the room next door, the source of the smoke and noise, trying to gain admittance to the crap game or whatever the hell is going on in there. I thinkthis does not bode well for a good night's sleep, since it is still daylight. Connie returns and said she just saw a woman and a young child leaving said room, the woman being in tears. She also says she cannot find the restaurant in the hotel and she is hungry. Also, the hotel has a central indoor pool, and she hates them generically with a passion, because the whole hotel smells like chlorine, the pool is fillied with shrieking children, the concrete surfaces amplify said shrieks, and those shrieks are a siren song for Fiona, who wants to go swimming in the unsupervised pool. I am hoping for the sound of a few gunshots to make her completely happy with our accommodations but we are not in the wild west anymore.

I go to the front desk and ask for a different room. I thought about appealing to the Rastafarians in that they would have thought it wildly amusing that I ask them to break up the party at 7pm, but Connie is not in the mood for any jokes. I get a different room and load the innumerable bags and we trek to a different part of the hotel where they have several non-smoking rooms in a row. After unpacking again, I return to the front desk to ask where the restaurant is because Connie cannot find it. Probably she was freaked out by the pool.

I ask where the restaurant is and the girl says with a straight face "Three blocks that way", pointing. I tell her I am serious, we have been in the car for ten hours and we need to eat. But she is serious. "Gabe's Roadhouse is our restaurant!" she explains. "You'll like it, it is great food, and it is only a short walk!". For all of this hotel's apparent shortcomings, its only saving grace is that the otherwise untrained staff are unfailingly enthusiastic. I look around at this family reunion and wonder how they are having a banquet in the large meeting room. Seconds later a delivery truck from a chicken and ribs place pulls up and starts unloading. That answers that. I take note that the delivery is not from Gabe's Roadhouse.

I report to Connie that indeed she was correct, the restaurant is slightly off-premises. We muster the gang and begin the walk. It is impossible to gauge whether it is three blocks, because we are in an office park and there are no intersecting streets that would form a block. I determine that by the word "block", the girl at the front desk meant "600 yards".

I am the oldest person in Gabe's Roadhouse by 30 years. Everyone there is eating pizza or a cheeseburger and drinking beer, being as that is all there is on the menu. I ask the waitress if there is a college campus nearby, I just have to ask. She explains in a tone usually reserved for grade schoolers who are not following instructions that there are many, which she names one by one, slowly, so I can comprehend.

When I return by foot to the Best Western Bandana Square Natatorium, Inn Resort and Towers at Saint Paul Minnesota Which Is The Capital You Betcha, I decide to watch TV. I point the remote at the TV and press "Power" but nothing. I finally notice that the TV is a Philips, while the remote is an RCA. I call my girls at the front desk. By now we are old friends. I don't know why they call this Square "Bandana"; all I know is they will need to blindfold me with one to get me into this place again. I get the taller girl; I know her voice by now. I tell her the obvious problem. She says "Oh, it's no problem, the RCA is a Universal Remote- you just have to program it."

I contemplate a civil response but I guess I am taking too long because she finally says " Do you need help programming it?"

I admit to her with some embarrassment that I am not a programmer and that any assistance would be most appreciated.

She then walks me through a set of steps- hold the code search button down, then this button, that button, turn it off and on, etc. She is reading from a manual, so she reads a step, I perform it, then we confirm it worked, and we go to the next step. I am incredulous that (a) anyone thought this was a good idea, to buy this universal remote, instead of JUST GIVING THE GUEST THE REMOTE THAT COMES FREE WHEN YOU BUY THE TV, and (b) has no one in my room, which is room 114, ever programmed the television before? Actually, the answer as you will soon find out is no, and for good reason. But I press on with the programming.

Finally we reach the end of the programming steps, and at this point I would like to refer you back to all of my previous comments about my skepticism about the good folks from these latitudes, and those remarks should be incorporated by reference again.

The remote still did not work. I advised her of this. She said, "It says here in the instructions you may have to repeat these steps up to 200 times until it can find the right code". This comment from her, while innocent and well- meaning, completely wiped out weeks of East Coast attitude de-programming. I am not yet a mile east of the Mississippi, after spending 6,844 miles west of it, and already I feel that old familiar impatience. I ask her, "Do you expect any guest to perform this ritual up to 200 times to merely watch TV?" She says "No, that doesn't seem fair". And then she says "Would you like me to find a Philips remote in another guestroom and trade it for your RCA remote?" I indicate this would be great. She brings me the remote and takes the RCA remote to wherever she stole the Philips one from.

I am hoping it was from the Rastafarians' room.

Thanks, Jolty

Back in the Fall and Winter of 1974- 1975, I worked in Dakota City, Nebraska on the kill floor of what was then, and still may be, the country's largest beef slaughterhouse. A friend of mine and I had decided that it would be a good idea to suspend our college education at the University of Maryland, which was no longer providing significant relevance to us at that time, in the parlance of the day. Instead, we would hitchhike across the country beginning in the early Fall of 1974, with no strategic plan and a total of $200 in cash assets, and with the vaguely defined goal of getting to California, and with no plan whatsoever as to what to do if we actually achieved that. In English class I had read, among many other things, The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck. It was not relevant to me when I read it either, though it soon would be.

We began our trip camping in the Carolinas, then the mountains of Tennessee and down into Georgia before heading west. Although we were possessed of maps and a decent sense of direction, we had not yet studied Critical Path Method scheduling techniques, and these southern dalliances, while enjoyable, used a considerable portion of our cash assets. When we finally turned west, our opportunities to camp in favorable weather had been for the most part eliminated, and our cash options for motels were nearly exhausted.

To make a long story short, my friend and I ran out of cash in Norfolk, Nebraska on the first day or two of November 1974. It was cold and desolate. We tried to find work there, as we had everywhere we had been recently. 1974 was a bad recession year and a lot of people were out of work. Getting a job without connections was almost impossible. Through a series of incredible events involving total strangers, within a day we wound up in South Sioux City, Nebraska; we got a personal loan to buy a car (well, a $250 car), we got loaned two weeks' rent on a flat in Sioux City, Iowa, across the Missouri River from Nebraska, and we were were advised there was this big slaughterhouse down US 77 toward Dakota City where a lot of people worked and, who knows, maybe you can get a job there.

The good thing about being clueless is that your naivete can sometimes can work in your favor. I put on my cleanest pair of jeans ( the other pair being my dirtiest pair), my best unstained denim shirt and I set off in our brand- old '67 Ford Ranchero station wagon to try to get a job at the Iowa Beef Processors (IBP) Plant in Dakota City. The plant was massive- blocks and blocks long, if there had been blocks there. We parked, hiked around and saw a door marked "Personnel Division". We figured, bingo, this is where you go to become a personnel.

The door was unguarded and we went up to the second floor after seeing no one on the first floor, somewhat mystified as to the absence of a throng of applicants at this giant regional employer. We wandered around up there quite a distance and couldn't find anyone either. Finally we got to the corner office. The anteroom where the secretary would sit was also empty (it was lunchtime as it turned out). So we knocked on the inner office door, just trying to find someone in this here so called personnel division, which we were no longer in.

We heard the words "Come In" from behind the door. We did and when we entered, I think it was a case of mutual astonishment. It was immediately apparent to us from the trappings of the office that we had marched right into the office of the guy running the whole place. He must have been wondering how these two banditos got into the inner sactum. The nameplate on the desk read"Jolty Eckstein". Jolty was eating lunch at his desk. He asked us "What do you want?" in a gruff tone. We advised him that we wanted a job. He seemed a little bit amused that we had the nerve to come into his office and ask for a job. He asked us a series of questions, where are we from, what are we doing here, and how the hell did we get into his office, etc.

For some reason, Jolty seemed to be impressed by the answers. Or, maybe he thought that we might cannabalize him if we didn't get a job real soon in order to buy food. I am not sure. He asked me if we would be willing to work on the kill floor. I answered "Absolutely." He then asked "How about kill floor second shift?" I said "We can start right now." He silently sized us up for what seemed like a long time, then said "You guys come with me."

We walked downstairs and then about a half a mile across the inside of the plant. Finally we arrived at the Employment Office. We then realized our mistake, not understanding the distinction between employment and personnel departments, and our hearts sank when we saw a long line of men filling out employment applications, just hoping to get a job. But Jolty took us to the head employment guy's office. He told him gruffly "Put these two guys on kill floor, second shift. And send me more guys like these, and not the s*** you have been sending me." That is a quote. And with that he turned around and walked off. I will definitely never forget that. Thanks, Jolty, wherever you are.

Now I am back in Siouxland after a 35 year absence. We drive through South Sioux City, on our way to the plant in Dakota City, a few miles south. I expect it to look different- 35 years is a long time. But it doesn't. The only things that have changed are the names of the signs on the restaurants, bars, and the other one-story establishments. Unless the white cowboys have acquired a taste for tacos, enchiladas, burritos, and the like, I think the hard work at the plant is being done by Latinos now. And that is as it should be. America still works- if you are willing to work hard, the opportunity is here for anyone.

When I was here in the winter of '74-'75, it was brutally cold. We had the worst blizzard in over 100 years in these parts; we were snowed into the plant for three days. It went down to 35 degrees below zero. We killed 1250 cattle per shift, every shift, so there were always a lot of cattle in the stockades, waiting thier turn. That storm, they all froze to death before they could be killed. They could not be used for human food once they died that way. I think about these Latinos and how cold these winters must seem to them. Probably they are killing 2000 head per shift now.

When I get to the plant in Dakota City, I see that it is no longer the mighty IBP; it is owned by Tyson Foods now. But it looks the same as it did 35 years ago, and there are the same kind of vehicles in the massive parking lot. Some beat-up pick up trucks, and a few nice ones. I see some guys in hard hats come outside for a break, something we did not do in that brutal winter. And I imagine that a few of these hard working guys from Mexico, or El Salvador, or wherever, got thier jobs here just as improbably as I did, and they are just as grateful as I was all those many years ago.

Eastbound and Down- Wyoming

The van was three months old when we left, and had 3, 635 miles on it. It is a comfortable vehicle to drive (except that it is a huge wind sail and doesn't weigh much, in spite of its substantial cargo, so at speeds above 70 you can suddenly find yourself changing lanes without a signal when you get a howling crosswind). I had wanted to bring a Suburban, which has a much more substantial chassis and far superior ground clearance, but not nearly the room inside. Connie said no way, and she was right. First of all, all of our junk would not have fit in a Suburban. But more importantly, the Suburban would not have provided the halo of personal space around each minor passenger necessary to establish and maintain the peace. Put differently, if you measure the length of

each child's arm, extended laterally toward his sibling passenger, he or she should not be able to reach his neighbor's head or deltoid muscle with a jab. We are riding in a 2-2-2 formation and there is no question that that this separation has resulted in a peaceful journey.

However, the van does have its shortcomings. It has the ground clearance of a Mexican Low Rider. It is a conversion van, so it has all these running boards and farings and such that are not heavy duty truck rated. Tires, not exactly monster truck material. And I knew we would be beating the dog out of whatever truck we took. It is being driven at high speeds 10 hours a day down rough roads, through dust storms, in 108 degree heat, it is loaded to the gills, and it is starting to show.

The first sign was in Bozeman, MT. We had lunch in a little tapas place in town. When I came out from lunch, there was an eight inch crack extending across the windshield midway from the left edge. No sign of an impact - could be a stress crack. I don't know. We subsequently took a 30 mile long gravel and dirt road from Bozeman down to US 89 which cut a significant corner off of what we would have had to do by going down the interstate further east to Livingston and then down 89. And the scenery is spectacular; no one on this road, which parallels the Yellowstone River in places. However, it is like putting the van in a paint shaker. The potholes, washouts, and ridges cut into the road by the wind put the van to the test.

When we arrive at the Elephant Head Lodge in Wapiti, Wyoming, our son Neil slides under the front for an inspection. He reports that one of the foglamp brackets is broken, said foglamp now only illuminating groundfog in the most literal sense,and that two bolts formerly supporting the front bumper are missing. The tires are not likely to reach their planned useful life, as they have some chunks missing. But we are still rolling. This GM -made Chevy van is still under warranty in all respects so I hope President Obama has earmarked some bailout money for Government Motors for warranty calls. We will first have to remove the entomological museum from the radiator, which would provide damning clues as to where this truck has been.

The Elephant Head is great. 13 log cabins, built by Buffalo Bill Cody's neice. It is called Elephant Head because of a rock formation looming 1000 feet above it which looks a lot like one. We have a big cabin, which is still small. Great setting. No cell phone coverage, no internet signals, no TV, no radio, no newspaper. There is a "courtesy phone" in a metal box on the side of the cabin that is the office and bar. I open it to call the offcie on my second day; it is a rotary phone. It works. I forgot how long it takes to dial someone's number literally. Connie doesn't like all this isolation. This is what I hope Heaven is like.

The staff is great- young people who were carefully hired for their enthusiasm and apparently, their good (wholesome) looks. But they are not worldly. One night a very pretty young woman from Tennessee is waiting on us and asks me if I can show her how to use the corkscrew to open the wine Connie ordered. I guess not too many wine drinkers up here. I show her how this device works. The next day she is waiting on us for breakfast; by now she knows the whole road trip story and all the places we have been, and we know she is from just outside Chattanooga. She asks me what is my favorite region of the country. I answer, truthfully, The South. She is pleased to hear this and now wants to know which state is my favorite. I look at her carefully and then say " I am partial to Tennessee", which was also truthful, as of just after she asked the question. She says "Me too!" It is an amazing coincidence. She then adds, "I am just so glad you didn't say Texas". There was almost no chance of that unless she had been from there. I don't remember her name, in part because Connie supervises these blogs.

The Codys left their stamp on Wyoming, but none of them was ever a basketball player, I am sure of it. The cabins are well-built but the tallest door head, and they are all different heights, tis 5'-10". When I get up in the middle of the night to visit the bathroom, as middle aged men are required to do, I first encounter the bedroom door head at 10 mph- Kaboom! I duck under the bathroom door head, still seeing stars, but when I pivot to leave, Kablam! 2 inches lower on the brow. The rest of the family passes under these obstacles unscathed so they find the collisions very funny. I think it is called Elephant Head because that is what my head will look like by the time I leave.

Our cabin neighbors to the south are Frank and Nina. Frank worked as scholarship director for Holy Cross College in Worcester, MA for 28 years, retiring 11 years ago. He lived in Boston forever but now has opted for the good life in San Diego. We met them because Fiona wanted to pet their dog and now we have had long conversations at two meals with them. I ask Frank, a big white- haired Irishman, if he remembers my friend Dave Mulquin, who played basketball for Holy Cross from around "77-'81. He does. He says what is he doing now. I say he is my attorney. Frank says " He is an ATTORNEY now??"

If Dave is reading this post, to be fair, those caps above and the extra question mark are what attorneys call "Emphasis Added".

YELLOWSTONE AND BEYOND!

Our next BIG event after Seattle was going to Yellowstone Park. But you can not just get to Yellowstone from Seattle in a day unless you want to drive FOREVER. So we chose to divide driving FOREVER into two days. With part of the second day actually driving through the park to get to our cabin in the Wyoming mountains near the East entrance of the park. To do so, we had to drive aross the remainder of the state of Washington, Idaho (scene of the Snakepit lunch Pat refers to in his last blog) and part of Montana in one day and then drive through part of Montana, into the park from the North Entrance of Yellowstone, which takes you to Wyoming after a few miles in the park. It is only a little over 100 miles from that point! At this point, Pat thinks 100 miles is nothing. But seriously, it was a great way to get an introduction to the beauty of this park. Speaking for myself, I had no thorough knowledge of Yellowstone until the days leading up to our trip. I picked up two books in Bellvue on Yellowstone and had been reading them on our two day trip to the park to get a better aquainted with it. One was geared more toward photographing in the park which ended up being as helpful as the basic guidebook. It is a huge park...2.3 million acres. Yellowstone Lake alone is 14 by 20 miles in size. There are 100 miles of shoreline on that lake alone. And it took us a little over 100 miles to do part of the figure 8 loop of the park roadways to get from the North Entrance to the East Entrance. The first day, as we drove through, we did not stop to take any photos. We were worried about making it to our cabin and the dinner hour there. They served breakfast and dinner but for limited times since it was a smaller venue. The park is gorgeous. And we were lucky to catch several great views of Bison along the one stretch of the roadway that I later learned was the optimal place to see Bison (I will look up the name later and insert it in this post). We were hoping to get a glimpse of a bear (from the car and at a very safe distance!). But no such luck either day. But we got to see the lake, the river and Sylvan Pass where we passed large patched of snow that had still not melted from winter. I can now verify that there are Pelicans in Yellowstone! I had always thought they were saltwater, ocean or bay dwelling creatures.

We arrived to the Elephant Lodge Inn and Cabins with enought time to get settled in and have dinner at the lodge. It is a lodge opened by Buffalo Bill Cody's niece in the early 1900's. It is registered in the historic registry as the cabins are all from that era. They have been modernized wsith plumbing and heat. They were charming but did lack some of the things I personally like (but Patrick said he was happy to go without) to have handy, like cell phone and internet service. There was no TV, but that did not bother me as much. I do like emailing people. And call me crazy, but I like the idea of having some sort of phone service when there are bears, rattlesnakes, mountian lions and various other potential emergency situations. And just in case someone has an emergency...I like that link to civilization. I am not a phone person so it is really for that sense of security in the event of an emergency.

Anyways, I digress! The meal was great and they allowed us to bring things back to our cabin (mainly the rest of the bottle of kendall Jackson chardonnay that I got with dinner!). They had a cozy bar/lounge area off of the front office that had a flat screen tv, along iwth board games, cards, books and any other activity like that that you can think of. There were critters hanging on the wall, photos and paintings of critters on the wall and skins of critters draped over the sofas. There was the standard Jackolope hanging in the bathroom which Fiona really loved (jack rabbit with antelope or some kind of antlers on it...a mythical critter that westerners like to get city folk to believe exists). Pat and I went to the lounge the first night and chatted with another couple staying in a cabin and the young buck bartender. All the help stay on the premises. WE later learned that they have a girls cabin and a boys cabin and a few other facilities like RV's and in one case, one of the employees chose to stay in a tent (oh to be young again!). I have to admit that the wine by the glass being Almaden boxed wine was not my favorite, but I had already had some of my Kendall Jackson so it was not as hard to drink. I know, I am a coffee snob and a wine snob in my older years. But if this is my worst problem, I will give thanks to the good Lord!

We met another nice couple staying in the cabin next to us and they had the good fortune to see a bear both days! We ended up talking to them several times and found out they were origianlly from the East coast as well (Boston). They were very friendly and Patrick has already received an email from them. Between talking to both of these couples we learned about what they liked or did not like about South Dakota. One couple swore we should see Mount Rushmore breifly and then go see the Crazy Horse monument. The other couple said to take a photo of both from the road and save the entry fee! The one couple we met in the bar had attempted to see the fireworks at Mount Rushmore and described the insanity involved with that. They knew one familhy that arrived at 5 AM to get seats in the pavillion for the 9PM fireworks which ended up being fogged out! I will blog about Mt Rushmore later....but will let you know that we opted to go to Mt Rushmore and take the photo of Crazy Horse from the road because we wanted to see Badlands National Park and Custers State Park. WE figured the kids could only handle seeing one mountain carving exhibit in one day!

The Elephant Lodge was located 11.7 miles from the East Entrance to the park. So the next day we headed back to the park and our fearless driver drove another 200 plus miles so we could see some of the highlights of the park. And of course the headliner to Yellowstone is Old Faithful. And Old Faithful was better than I think any of us expected. I will post some photos in the necxt few days. I think Old Faithful was pretty amazing not only with respect to seeing steaming water shooting up into the air between 140 and 180 feet in the air for several minutes, but also the cordial way in which the crowd waited for this to occur. There was no pushing for the front, or people trying to wedge their video camera in front of us or that sort of thing that is so common on the East Coast. Everyone chatted pleasantly while we waited. The gal next to Fiona (because Fiona must talk to everyone - human or dog at the parks!) ended up being 17 and from Loudan County VA and was on a similar family trip. And as Old Faithful lost power, every one kind of wandered away with their cameras and memories.

We saw a group of geysers and thermal pools as well. Some we actually got out of the car and walked around the perimeter of and others we saw from the car. It really is surreal to see steaming water flowing into a river of lake. I will post some photos later but like the Grand Canyon, they probably won't do it justice.

Speaking of loosing steam (like Old Faithful!), I am loosing steam. I will have to pick up from here when I make a new post! I can only say that we are less than one week from being home again and it is so strange! I recall brishing my teeth the morning before leaving, thinking that I would not be brushing my teeth in our bathroom for 6 weeks and it seemed so wierd. I don't know if I have ever been away from home this long at any point in my life with the exception of college. And since I went to school so close by, I probably never went 6 weeks away from home ven then! And Patrick and me and the kids were thinking of the Caulfield Clan and the big Horse Shoe Tournament that occurred today. It is an event we hated to miss and have always enjoyed! WE hope someone can email us with all the highlights of the day (and night!). Who won? I suspect that Joe might be singing Danny Boy about now! We hope the weather was good and that the games were exciting!

Dad, that's so random

7/2 en route to Seattle:

Salem, Oregon: While driving, I ask the kids what is the capital of Oregon. The kids do not answer, perhaps because they are listening to their Ipods at high volume and have ear buds in their ears, and cannot not hear my question. Therefore, I take them to Salem, Oregon, which is not a big detour off the interstate. We visit the State Capitol building, which is really cool. Hopefully they will remember the capital now. Oregon is one of the tricky ones (as is Maryland).

Portland, Oregon: The 205 is totally shut down, so we have to take the 5 through the city. Bad traffic jam. It takes two hours. The Columbia River has about a hundred bridges crossing it every three blocks. There are smokestacks and railroads all over the place. It looks just like Pittsburgh. Portland should have an NFL team, based on appearances. Put them in the AFC North with my Ravens, Cleveland, and Cincinnati. Put the Steelers in another division- I don't care which. I am sick and tired of them.

Centralis, Washington: We are hungry as a result of delays in Portland. We decide to eat in Centralis. I get off the interstate and the best looking restaurant is Casa Ramos. I don't know what that is but I am not in the mood for it. You can't find good restaurants at interchanges anyway. I drive several miles away from the interstate. The restaurants look worse and there are a lot of supply houses. Suddenly we find a main street and a classic old steak house (Gibson House Grill). It is a Godsend. Terrazzo floors, old wood furniture, white tablecloths and a koi pond in the middle of the restaurant. The owner invites Fiona to feed the fish. This is a much needed diversion for her. We spend two hours there because the waitress drops our fully loaded tray in the kitchen, and they have to start over. We don't care.

7/3: Bellevue and Seattle:

We are staying in Bellevue, across from Seattle, because our friend Stan, who lived in the area when he played for the Seahawks, said we don't want to be in downtown Seattle. I like to be center ice, but I defer to his local area knowledge.

We are staying in the Hyatt Regency Bellevue. It is mostly filled up with wealthy Asian-Americans. They are very sophisticated and nice and the only problem is vehicle maneuvering in the porte cochere, where East meets West.

The restaurant is called 0/8. I never find out how to pronounce it. Is it zero divided by eight, oh for eight, oh slash eight, zero slash eight, or, if the slash is an italicized "I", then "Oh, I ate." Maybe the Asians know what it is because eight is their lucky number.

We go into Seattle for the day. We do Pike Place Market, where they throw the fish; we have lunch at a great little oyster house, then take the monorail to Seattle Center, where the Space Needle is. I observe the length of the line for the Needle, watch the movement for a short time, and calculate the length of the wait at about an hour and a half. I don't care if you can see Beijing from up there, I am not waiting that long. Plus it's $14 bucks a head for the elevator ride and one of my life philosophies is, I will not wait to get ripped off. If you want to rip me off, make it convenient, and fast. Fiona wants to do the amusement park rides and the older kids want to go to the Music Experience and make a CD. Connie takes the music project, I take Fiona. I get her a $23 unlimited ride pass and she never stops riding. She makes a lot of friends and introduces me to their parents, a few of which are local. The Needle looms straight over our heads. I ask the local adults if I should do it, if it is worth the wait. They all say no. Fly in here sometime and look out the plane window, they advise.

7/4: Bellevue and Seattle:

We go back to Seattle. For the second day in a row, I understand Stan's advice to stay in Bellevue. Although the city is beautiful and the weather is spectacular, there are more bums here per square inch than anywhere I have ever been. Like Key West, Maine, Alaska, and the southwest desert near Kingman, AZ, Seattle is a "corner" of the country, and the corners in my observation attract and keep the unusual among us. In Alaska and Maine, the harsh conditions select out the incompetent unusuals, leaving productive unusuals. You don't go to Fairbanks to sleep on a steam grate. In this temperate clime, though, it is a veritable bum museum. There are many music bums, all genres, all ages, every corner. There are burned out hippies from the 60's, who probably emigrated from San Francisco due to costs. Ditto for gay and transgender bums. Also there are white and black Anti-Globalization and America- hating bums, who team up with certain Native American anti- American bums for some tribal ritual all- inclusive anti- capitalist anarchist anti- American bumfests.

The most populous bums are the grunges. They are everywhere, sitting on fountains, on the sidewalk, stairways, anywhere. They are very young for the most part; probably runaways. They all smoke cigarettes. They have pasty white skin, and wear very weird clothes and hats. Although mostly inert, they make occasional weird gestures to one another. They remind me of Marcel Marceau, except once in a while they speak. I wonder how they support themselves. I speculate either prostitution or drug dealing, but they don't look like they have the energy for it.

We watch the fireworks from our hotel rooms back in Bellevue, which have a great view of Mt. Rainier and the Bellevue display 4 blocks away. It doesn't start until after 10 pm due to the late northern sunset. Like our fellow hotel guests, we have the Nikons whining away taking pictures of the display. Many of our fellow guests are fairly new to America. They get it.

7/5: Enroute to Missoula, Montana

Tried to stop for lunch just after Couer d' Alene, Idaho. Connie has a guidebook and wants to go to the Wolf Lodge Inn, which has dead animal heads, exotic wild meats and other good stuff, according to the book. She said go south on 97, at exit 22- it is right off the exit, according to the guide. I did, but no lodge immediately in view. After a handful of pleasant miles skirting the lake, Connie says um, it is north, not south. Everything here is named Wolf Lodge and she was looking at an RV Park reference. I swerve the van north. We cross the interstate again and proceed down a dirt road a few more miles . No sign of the lodge here either. We finally find it but it doesn't open until 5 pm, according to the empty parking lot, and the less visible sign on the door.

I take this with great aplomb, whatever that means, and Connie looks up another restaurant a handful of exits down the interstate. We proceed with all haste. But when we get off the interstate and find it, it is closed also.

Humans are funny, in that they are quite adaptable and can put up with great hardship. However, once a human firmly expects that satisfaction of its basic needs is imminent, but is then denied, it creates great emotional distress in the human. This phenomenon is the basis for many forms of psychological torture. What needs are examples of this, you ask? Well, food, water, going to the bathroom, or maybe getting to sleep with one's wife in privacy once in a while on a long road trip after we gave the kids $300 in quarters and told them to go down the hotel hall together to the game room and don't come back until the money is spent, or unless someone is bleeding, which was stupid because Fiona gets nosebleeds.

Anyway, after the second closed restaurant, I express to Connie that the guidebook she had bought, while most useful in the overall analysis, seemed to have a data glitch when it came to restaurants in the panhandle of Idaho, and that perhaps I should select a restaurant by alternative means, without the well-intentioned but nevertheless flawed help of her tome, meaning that the guidebook should be, for the time being at least, retired, due to the urgency of nourishing our children, and our travel schedule. Due to fatigue and hunger I need to be economical with my language, so I communicate this sentiment in four words, ending with "that guide book".

Several miles down the road, I see an obscure roadside sign for the Enaville Resort Snake Pit, Established 1860. This has the sound of a good dive to it. I take the exit, and proceed up a dirt and gravel road several miles, not unlike our previous two attempts to be fed lunch. We arrive in Kingston Idaho, which town consists of a single building called the Enaville Resort Snake Pit. It is an old building on the north fork of the Coeur d' Alene River. The lot is filled with Harleys and big pickup trucks. It looks just perfect. And it is.

More tomorrrow. It is 12:45 am and we have to tour the Badlands in a few hours.

BELLEVUE/SEATTLE

We stayed in a suburb of Seattle that reminded Patrick and I so much of the Chevy Chase/downtown Bethesda area. There was a main street with low older strip shopping centers towered by high rise office buildings and giant hotel chains. We stayed in a Hyatt Regency that was one of the tallest buildings in the area. And like Chevy Chase and Bethesda, there was all kinds of high end shopping along with charming mom and pop type establishments. In the end, the 8th floor of the Hyatt provided a terrific view of the Bellvue fireworks as well as about 6 other displays further away in Seattle and beyond. Fiona couldn't beleive it.

The drive to Seattle from Bellevue was similar to making the drive to Washington, DC from Chevy Chase or Bethesda. Pat once again got behind the wheel the day after a long drive to Bellvue and we were amazed that we could find a surface parking lot just a few blocks from the famous Pike Place market. The conversion van with the loading shelf can be quite a problem for city parking. Even in a lot (as Pat so well described in his NOLA and San Antonio posts). We ended up using the same lot both days. And despite the three day weekend with the Fourth of July holiday, this parking lot was always easy to find and had plenty of spaces.

We only spent a total of about 10 hours maximum roaming around Seattle between both days. So my observations are limited to the areas we visited. There are many other areas of Seattle and I don;t mean to make a blanket statement about Seattle. But my main obsevation was an incredible number of homeless, or what appeared to be homeless or destitute people. And there seemed to be a higher number of younger people roaming around that looked like runaways. Perhaps they were just normal Seattle teenagers maxing out on the Grunge Era look that Seattle rock artists started in the 1990's and we are just overreacting to this. But all in all, we noticed the highest number of homeless people than any other city we visited. I found this stange since it is supposed to be so rainy most of the year and you wonder where these poor souls go to sleep on all those damp nights. You find it makes more sense in a drier destination like San Antonio or even New Orleans which is very humid but not as rainy and cold as Seattle. The other thing that seemed stange about this high number of homeless people was that I noticed the highest number of building cranes than any other city we visited, meaning they were building and there must be development going on which means that the economy was picking up. Because if you look around DC area compared to a year or two ago, you just don't see as many projects going up.

So I have rambled on about the homeless situation and should describe the other things we saw and experienced as well. Pike Place Market is amazing! Like Bourbon Street, I was distracted with keeping an eye on the kids and our bags at all times. I have fears of one of them, particularly one of the girls (call me sexists but you always worry about girls a little bit more) getting lost in the crowd and the odds of locating them is not so great. I have two digital SLR cameras in my back pack, along with my purse with debit card, credit cards etc..

So I am constantly guarding against that being pickpocketed. Although I would probably notice the weight of something lifted out since the damn bag weighs a ton! I have used hotel towels to cushion one camera in the back pack while I have the other on my neck.

So back to Pike Place.....so colorful and what an amazing display of various fresh food, flowers and anything else that can be sold! And it is like going through a maze. There are different levels and then the main street still has cars going through even though there are almost as many pedestrians as Bourbon Street. At least it seems that way! I am sure it is not quite that bad! So with my distractions with the kids we did not linger too long at the fish markets where they supposedly throw the fish to people or something like that. Again, there are times where the kids are just not understanding why we are at these places...like the Ferry Building. I think one of the most beautiful things coming out of the market were the bouquets of fresh flowers. So I guess it is safe to say that the people walking around with lovely bouquets were locals since it makes no sense if you are in a hotel and going home or, in our case, to our next destination.

We found a great little local dive at Pike Place called Emmit Watson Oyster House somewhere in the labyrinth of Pike Place. We squeezed into a table for four as we were too tired of hunting for a decent looking place. It was a great meal and the waiter was a character. He was quite attentive in bringing us more drinks and food, but seemed to forget to remove used items. So here the 6 of us are squeezed into a space meant for 4 and our waiter leaves the appetizer dishes and the dinner dishes along with the empty beverages (but he brought us numerous rounds of new drinks!).

Upon said waiter's recommendation, we took the monorail from the Westlake Shopping Center (Assuming this is of the Westlake shopping center fame of our area) to the Seattle Space Needle. Patrick could do a post on the inefficiencies of that system of transportation. But like the trolleys in SF, it was fun to ride. The wierdest part is entering a tunnel that is part of the new museum comples designed by Frank Gheary that is super wild architecture. I can only post pictures for those of you who have not seen photos of this building (I did not know anything about this until about 4 days ago when I was doing the pre trip research as we drove from San Francisco to Eugene!). We arrive at the Seattle Center and low and behold the line for the Space Needle is what appears to be a mile long! So maybe not a mile, but too long to schlepp four kids in 85 degree heat. And you are basically paying for the elevator ride up to the viewing center and then you come down. So we figured our time was better spent on other pursuits. Fiona eyed the bumper cars, ferris wheel and other kiddy rides. The three older kids wanted to go to the Music Experience so Patrick offered to take care of the kiddy rides and I went to the rock music experience place. All the kids wanted to do was go directly to the hands on experience center....where you could try out different instruments, mixing sounds machines, jam sessions and finally, the recording session which we waited about 45 minutes to participate in. But the kids had so much fun, that is well worth the wait. I do not think we will be getting Grammy for this jam session. and if anyone would like to hear the ten minute breath taking music session I am happy to share. Once we learned that they had to figure out their own music on the instruments provided, I explained that Tierney should be allowed to have the first part singing whatever song she wanted without the boys participation (if you heard the boys you would agree...it was an ADD symphony). Then everyone could do whatever they wanted. Neil asked me to video tape this using some Mr Bean video techniques (refer to Mr Bean's vacation and you will knowwhat I am talking about). I think it will give this the full ADD experience. WE bought two copies of this creative process. We wished we had known about the other option just next door where they could do kind of an air band thing and get a DVD of their performance. We watched a group of three 20 somethings preview their performance and it was hilarious. But the line for that looked much longer and we had to rescue Patrick from the kiddy ride park!

Fiona had made friends with two different girls and Patrick actually was sitting on a bench with the mom of one of them as both girls had passes to all the rides. The girls were like whirling dervishes running from ride to ride. Fiona later told me that her one pal threw up but got on another ride!

We were ready to head back to the burbs by this point. We had a Ruths Chris Steak House one block from our hotel and Patrick had noticed the night before. The lure of steaks cooked at 1000 plus degrees in butter was to much and that was where we ate out dinner. YUM!

WE repeated going into town the next day. We were amazed that it was less crowded on 4th of July than the day before (the Friday holiday for most people). We wandered around Pike Place and found a great restaurant called Cutters Bayfront that had something for everyone. Seafood, Sushi, pasta, steak....everyone in our multi preference family got what they wanted.

The three older kids went to see a move while we relaxed and I blogged for the first time in over a week. Then the next wonderful Forrest Gump moment of our trip was that we had a perfect view of the fireworks from our window on the 8th floor. The hotel staff kept telling us we should walk to the parking structure above Ruth's Chris's because the building in front of the Hyatt might block our view. I guess I did not mention what floor we were and where our room was situated. Like all Hyatts it was a mammoth structure and I can't blame any staff for disclaiming a free and clear view from any random room.

We arrived in Missoula just a few hours ago. There is a great restaurant we found along the way in Idaho, but I have to get to bed so we can make our first trip to Yellowstone tomorrow on our way to our cabin near Cody Wyoming. Did you know that Yellowstone has 2.3 million acres in its park? And the crazy Caulfields will try to see as much as they can in two days! One other strange fact I learned (so may to share) is that there are pelicans somewhere in the park....I will verify this fact because it just seems way too wrong!

SOUTH LAKE TAHOE, YOSEMITE, SAN FRANCISCO, EUGENE AND SEATTLE

I find it hard to beleive that I have not posted anything since one week ago! We certainly have been on the go. And by the time we finish seeing all the sights or driving all day to the next location I find myself a bit mentally drained and unable to make a sane post of any kind.

As I type this, it is 8:15 pm Eastern time. So most of you are preparing for whatever 4th of July fireworks you are viewing. We are in Bellevue Washington, near Seattle. And since it does not get dark here until later than the DC area, we will not be viewing any fireworks until 10 pm Pacific time.

We survived the Loneliest Road and reached South Lake Tahoe. We got really excited as we entered the state of California as we were closing in on the half way point and most westward destination of our trip within a few days (San Francisco). South Lake Tahoe, and the Lake Tahoe area in general was gorgeous. The Sierra Mountains were back drop to the extremely blue waters of Lake Tahoe. Once again we wished we could have spent more time at another location. But this was really a stop over on our way to Yosemite. We stayed at The Inn by The Lake which was across the main street from the Lake. The temperatures were lovely with low humidity.

Saturday morning I walked to get us some bagels and coffee and was taken by how beautiful the scenery was. I did not get a chance to go down to the beach but Neil had gone the night before and said it was not very deep and there were lots of pebbles and rocks along the shore. I will have to post some of the dramatic sunset photos he took. It is clearly a place for the out doorsy type, as there were acres of camp grounds that I passed and all kinds of rental places for kayaks, boats, hiking, biking etc....I had to resist going into an interesting yarn store near the bagel place, knowing that my family's blood sugar would srop to dangerously low levels, and mass crankiness would ensue. And we had another decent day of driving to get to Yosemite so I had to avoid my curiousity for this shop. We all decided that it would be great fun to return to this town. Although, the list of places we would like to either return to or stay longer is growing so long and we never do know when we will have the time to do so!

The ride to Yosemite was beautiful as we drove through the Sierra Mountains. We took the Carson Pass, which was a "long-cut" but well worth it. We saw a few more lakes and some snow capped mountains. It is so hard to get used to the idea of snow capped mountains in late June or July (in the case of Seattle). We stayed in Fish Camp California, which is a small town located in the mountains about 5 or 10 miles from one of the entrances to Yosemite. We stayed in the Tenaya Lodge Resort which was an attractive lodge set tucked into the alpine forest near the park. And the added bonus of laundry machines was very appealing.

We had one full day to see what we could see in what we learned was a HUGE park! I basically tried to order what literature I could before we left town, and had a National Parks guide book, along with a few other great travel guide books. I have tried to research a few days before each location to scout out what we might focus on while visiting each location we visit. The months leading up to our trip were just so busy neither of us had much time to do any extensive research. So I find Yosemite in one guide book, which quotes a Park Ranger as saying "I would weep" when asked what should one try to see in one day at Yosemite. After being there, I realize a person could spend a week there and still be exploring so many wonderful things. We were able to do about four of the main attractions before the gang pooped out. We first took a quick look at the giant Sequoias in Mariposa Grove. We did not have time to do the full hike to see some of the well known trees, but we got a pretty good idea of how amazing these trees are from hiking part of the trail. We have photos I will post later of Fiona and Owen in front of them and it puts their size in perspective. I think my favorite photo is of Fiona holding a giant pine cone that is about one foot long!

Then we drove up to Glacier Point to view the Half Dome, and the giant waterfalls and valley below. It is as breathtaking as the Grand Canyon. And it is surreal when you take photos of the kids with this amazing backdrop of these icons of nature behind them. We took a group photo of them that may well be our Groundhog day card (or maybe I will actually make Christmas cards this year!).

After Glacier Point, we drove down to the valley to see El Capitan, Yosemite Falls, and one of the other larger falls known as the Bridalveil Falls. Like the Grand Canyon, there are people from all over the world here. There is a multitude of things for a family or group of people to do. We saw groups floating down a river in the valley, picnicking along different venues, and biking, hiking, climbing and photographing everything around them. There are art classes and photography workshops offered each week as well. We visited the Ansel Adams Gallery which showcased his photography of many of the famous sites of Yosemite. I felt compelled to buy his autobiography. It is turning out to be a very interesting read when I have the brain capacity to read! He grew up right outside of San Francisco during the turn of the last century and his memories of early San Fransisco have been a nice compliment to our visit to that city.

Neil rented a bike at the lodge and took a ride near our hotel. I held my breath till he returned since there are all kinds of warnings about wildlife. I envisioned Neil encountering a bear or mountain lion so I was relieved when he returned! As a side note, when we pulled into the lodge the valet asked Patrick if he wanted to park the van himself that we needed to take ALL the food and drink out of the car as the bears were able to break into the car! We opted for them to park the car, which did not cost anything but the time it took to ask them to bring the car around and the tip (Refer to Cash is King post!) for the valet guy at drop off and pick up. Obviously we opted for them to valet the car in the secured lot. I had purchased about 200 dollars of various Sam's Club individually packed snacks, now stowed away in the above seat storage areas of the van that would certainly smell like an all you can eat buffet to a bear. They also said that there had been a bear sited in the valet area in the previous days! So it was with lots of prayers that I sent Neil on his way with the rented bike.

I can see why many people recommended staying in the Valley of Yosemite because you have less driving to do, you would have views of the various famous locations, and you are actually in the park, so no need to do as much driving to get to some of the more famous sites. Should we ever return to Yosemite we would try that option. But we were booking everything pretty last minute and were happy to find a fine establishment near the entrance. We also found that the crowds were not as bad as we feared they would be. We left the hotel in time to arrive shortly after the park opened so parking and paths were not too crowded. By the time everyone had had enough, it was close to 3 and we headed the 40 miles back to our lodge. So we did a pretty good one day tour of the main attractions despite reading how hard and or disappointing that might be.

And Pat handled having to drive all day like a good sport. It was about his 7th day in a row of driving switchbacks through the mountains. I asked him if he feels like he is turning back and forth in his sleep much like a person who has been on a boat all day feels like they are bobbing in their bed all night.

From Yosemite we headed to San Francisco. The temperatures hovered around 100 degrees once we descended from the mountains and headed west. We were back on the interstates at the end which makes for a faster drive, but much less interesting view in most cases. About an hour or so outside of the Oakland/San Francisco area we saw an even larger group of windmills than we had seen in Texas. It really looked like someting out of a science fiction movie! There were many more than we had seen in Texas. And they were closer to the road.

As we approached the Oakland and San Francisco area the temps slowly dropped into the high 70's and there was a great breeze. We stayed at the St Francis Hotel on Union Square and were lucky enough to be on the 10th floor with a view of the square. We had the windows cracked most of our stay and it felt good to feel the bay breeze and hear all the commotion below. We were high up enough that it was kind of like urban white noise.

San Francisco almost immediately moved to their top three places we have visited! I think the cable cars, Chinatown, and the Fisherman's Wharf were all big hits. We took the cable car to Fisherman's Wharf the first afternoon and ended up finding a nice restaurant on the edge of the Wharf area to eat an early dinner. We walked over to the Hyde Street Pier after dinner and got a look from afar of Alcatraz. The sun was starting to set and it was a lovely way to end our evening tour.

I will only go on about the trolleys with one story which supports Patrick's observations about the trolleys. I think Patrick gave a perfect description of how endearing the trolley ride experience is, along with the quirky accounting system used for collecting fares, amongst other observations. I can provide a perfect example of said accounting practices. On our last night, Patick had gotten off at the correct stop while the girls and I kept riding (My fault...I got talking with a person from Maryland who still had a place on the Eastern Shore even though he lived in SF full time) a few blocks. The girls and I were on the outside benches (Fiona, the wild child, loved riding on the outside benches) and Patrick had gone to the back of the trolley when we go on. The guy running the trolley asked for our tickets a few blocks past the stop I was supposed to have gotten off and I pointed to the back saying that my husband had our tickets. The guy never asked which guy I meant or what he looked like or if it was a one way ticket etc....he just shrugged his shoulders and said Ok. I was grateful for this laid back attitude as I did not have any cash on me to buy a ticket had he pushed the point! It was then that I realized that I had ridden the trolley too long and we got off at the next stop. Unfortunately it was a really steep up hill walk back to Powell Street which would lead us to our hotel. I guess that is what I get for not paying attention! The girls were good sports about having this walk back. Since Tierney missed the closing of the fitness center I teased her that this was a way better workout than the treadmill. My shins felt the hills we walked the two and a half days we were in Frisco.

Chinatown was a big hit. We somehow found a Japanese Sushi place in Chinatown that had sushi plates available on little boats floating around the parimeter of the sushi bar. Neil had heard about the sushi bars that had a conveyor belt going around the bar so this was even more exotic. With four kids it was hard to keep track of how many plates they were grabbing. When you get your check, the waitress counts up each size plates we had collected and any drinks or custom orders we placed. There are signs with the prices of each plate next to it so you have an idea of what you grand total might be. This was a big hit with all the kids.

We wandered a little more in Chinatown and found a barber shop for Owen to get his hair trimmed. He had been patiently asking for a hair cut since NOLA but we had not had much luck finding one up until now. His hair cut cost 5 dollars! I do not know anywhere you can get a hair cut for 5 dollars! She must have spent a good 25 minutes on his hair and shaping the edges with a razor.

We then went down to the Ferry Building on the water front. This building has been around for more than a 120 years and was badly damaged from the earthquake in 1989. It was renovated in the mid 1990s and the building was reopened around 2000 as a market for produce, meats, flowers, wines and crafts. I think the beauty and purpose of this was lost on the three older kids who kept asking why were here and what are we looking at. Fiona, as usual, has the excitement that only a younger child can have as there are simple joys found anywhere when you are 7! There were pigeons to chase on the outside walkway! Or course that was why we had taken the trolley from Chinatown to this walkway, right?

We regrouped at the hotel for some rest and relxation before we headed back out for dinner. I summoned the help of my Roadfood book which had a few places of interest listed in the San Francisco area. We opted for a locals' favorite called Sam's Grill that was only open Monday through Friday for breakfast, lunch and dinner. It ended up being a gem of a find. We were a little nervous when we saw the tuxedoed waiters, the antique millwork, the linen table cloths and the quiet ambience. But once our waiter, Walter, came over to get our drink order any fears about bringing our family of six, including four casually- dressed kids were put aside. Walter was charming and funny and ended up having us meeting and laughing it up with the older couple seated near us. By the end of the evening we had learned that Jane and Aaron had been coming to Sam's Grill for 57 years. They had been married for 55 years and joked that a few of their most memorable marital battles took place at Sam's Grill. They had both grown up in the area and ended up inviting us to visit them at their beach home the next day on our way out of town (they had a home in San Francisco too at which they were staying that evening. We really would loved to have met up with them but they had a place on the coast about 45 minutes from the hotel and off the route we needed to take. It woudl have been fun. She told us about her family taking a big driving trip and seeing the Grand Canyon right after the WW II. She said she had not seen her dad in years because he had been away as a doctor in the war. Interesting to think how different her driving trip was over 50 years ago when you consider there were no seat belts used, no AC, and no TV with satellite or DVD player! Our kids would never have made it past the first few days! Jane and Aaron seemed to know not only our waiter Walter, but a number of the fellow patrons as well.

The city was great and had a lot of character. There were alot of homeless people and just street characters/performers in general. Much like the people we saw in NOLA and San Antonio. We saw a few homeless looking folks wandering around Santa Fe, but unlike the other cities where it was more prevelant, there is not a lot of public transportation to get you to Santa Fe. So I suspect that had something to do with that. There were street performers in Santa Fe with their hat or instrument case open looking for tips.

The next day we all "Left our hearts in San Francisco" as the story says. Sorry. Couldn't help it!

We headed to Seattle via Eugene Oregon. I have to admit I had kind of been making fun of poor Eugene prior to arriving because none of the tourbooks I consulted had much to say about it. It ended up being a quaint little friendly town that (you guessed it!) we wished we could have gotten to know better. We did not get into town until nearly 9. It was deceiving because it was so light out. We had a great early dinner on our way to Eugene so that was a good thing since the hotel restaurant was closing when we arrived. Room service was still serving so we ordered something light in our room.

The next morning Patrick, Fiona and I explored the town a little and got a bite to eat for breakfast. Tienrey opted to use the fitness center while the boys opted for more sleep. We found a little breakfast place that was part of a market area where I also found some proper thread and needles for the patch project that three of us are doing on this trip. I had been trying to make due with sewing patches (every park and most cities have them) onto our back packs with the sewing kits provided by the hotels. The needles and thread in these kits are really meant for sewing on stray buttons and small mending projects. Not for sewing thick patches that in some cases have the iron on patch glue on the back which makes them even thicker and harder to pass the needle through. And we found how useful thimbles can be! Neil and I had punctured our fingers on many occasions while trying to shove said needles through the patches. So I got us proper needles, thimbles and thread to keep up with this growing project. I am sewing on Fiona's and my patches while I told Neil he can do his own. Tierney and Owen opted for a much easier and cheaper thing to collect: postcards!

We loaded up the van once again to head to Seattle. On our way to Seattle we stopped at Salem, Oregon to take a quick peek at the State Capitol building. Patrick and I were both amazed that there was no formal security procedure or screening other than walking past a guard who looked half awake in front of the building. Having been to a few Capitol buildings over the years it is usually an airport style screening machine at a minimum, along with an officer checking any bags. This guy was more like a Walmart greeter. And there was a store inside selling all things Oregon, except the patches we had been collecting. It turns out that a troup of Boy Scouts had toured the building earlier that week and cleaned out their supply!

Our biggest traffic jam, to date, was in none other than Portland, Oregon! It took us 2 hours to get through Portland. The 205 was shut down and everyone had to take the 5....add a few fender benders and some peoples with car trouble and it made for quite a long trip through Portland. Portland reminded us of Pittsburgh as it had numerous bridges. Once we got through the city, traffic moved at a regular pace. We then tried to figure out where to have dinner......we concluded that Centralia, Washington would be the place. And after passing a less than appealing first mile or two into town we came upon a beautiful little main street area with a restaurant called the Gibson House that was wonderful. The only bad thing that happened is that our waitress must have dropped our tray with our dinners so we had to wait extra time to get the newly made replacement dinners. Patrick figured it out when another waitress commented upon helping our waitress that she wanted to make sure that she didn't drop her tray again. This delay combined with our traffic jam in Portland, made our arrival to Bellevue much later than expected. With the sun staying up later in these parts it didn't make too much difference. And the meal was worth the wait.

Fiona has been patiently waiting for the computer (Nick.com provides hours of entertainment!) and I am afraid I could become boring by driveling on too long. So I will save my observations and our experiences of Seattle for another time. I would say later tonight, but I am sure that after waiting to see the 10PM fireworks display and packing up for tomorrow's arduous journey to Missoula, Montana I will most certainly be brain dead. We went into Seattle both yesterday and today so there are too many tales to tell right now!