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!

Dear Valued Guest

After 5,835 miles, we have arrived in Seattle, the long way around. I think we are about as far from home as we can get without a passport. A couple of weeks ago, Homeland Security decided that you now need a passport to go to Canada. Actually, you need the passport to come back. I am tempted to go to Vancouver, B.C. anyway. But I have a big disadvantage in that the only government issued ID I have on my person is a Maryland Driver's License. And as my fellow Marylanders know, our state legislators stand nearly alone in the Nation in the defense of issuing drivers licenses to illegal aliens because it promotes public safety. As far as I can tell, the argument is that the illegals will drive anyway, so if you make them get driver's licenses, they will be safe drivers. This concept escaped me between the ages of 17 and 45, according to records kept by the Maryland Motor Vehicle Administration. Anyway, I think if I go to Vancouver, I may not be allowed back into the country until the due date of my next estimated Federal income tax payment, so I will settle for its beautiful neighbor to the south.

We left San Francisco yesterday morning. It was the third straight day of sunny football weather there and I felt a bit of regret to leave, even though we have a lot to still look forward to. I hope to be back in September for a brief visit when the Terps beat California on the gridiron again. But I digress.

We got a late start, not getting on the road until 11 am. But we made great time. We had been off the Interstates for 6 days. I like the back roads better, but if you have to cover 537 miles quickly, and we did, the Interstate Highway System is a wonderful thing.

It was over 100 degrees as we passed snow- covered Mt. Shasta. Even though the roads were mountainous we could maintain a 70 mph average. We stopped in Medford at 5pm for lunch or dinner, whatever it was. Finally we rollled into Eugene, Oregon around 8:30 pm. I picked this merely as a waypoint betwen San Francisco and Seattle, but as we discovered last night and this morning, it is a gem of a little town. It is the home of the University of Oregon Ducks, very clean, nice shops and restaurants, friendly people, and great climate (today at least). Put it on your college visit list.

We pulled into the Hilton Eugene and Conference Center, a 12 story structure on 6th Street clearly designed and constructed in the 1970s, an era that will leave not much legacy to the history of architecture. But, this Hilton is the best show in town, well-located, and the Bellman was happy to unload the late- arriving silver- plated alien ship from Maryland. Upon setting aside the giant cooler on the rear hitch and swinging open the rear double doors, which revealed the full extent of the cargo, he summoned another member of the Longshoreman's union to assist with the unlading of the ship.

We have connecting rooms and we go through the familiar routine of sorting out the bags between the rooms. I enter "our" room, meaning it will be occupied by Connie, Fiona and me. It is a double queen, and I immediately notice on the nightstand between the bed two sets of bright yellow earplugs, of the sport-shooting variety, standing on end. If you have never used them, perhaps you could mistake them for oversized Halloween candies. But I knew immediately what they were. I thought: these Hilton guys are on top of their game. Connie mentioned only two days ago that she wished she had earplugs in the middle of the night.

So I hold up a pair and say, "Look, Connie- they knew I was coming!" Fiona immediately asked for the other pair, assuming that her mother had dibs on the first. I laughed but detected a bit of a strange reaction from the two baggagemen still slinging the luggage, like they wanted to get done quick.

I paid the porters and looked at the nightstand again. In between the two sets of earplugs was a piece of engraved cardstock. On the top of it was the hotel logo, and a well rendered profile of an antique steam locomotive. Beneath that was the salutation "Dear Valued Guest".

There was a paragraph that followed the salutation, but it was unnecessary. If you ever check into a hotel and they leave you earplugs, a picture of a train, and a message that starts "Dear Valued Guest", you have to be able to figure out the bad news from there on your own. Any message with a three word salutation, of which the first two words are "Dear Valued", means you are screwed anyway.

Earlier in our trip, we drove down US 380 east of I-25 in New Mexico, which borders the Trinity Site, where the world's first atomic bomb exploded on July 16, 1945. Nearby San Antonio (NM) was a vibrant town then. What did the owner of the San Antonio Inn do in July of 1945? Here's my guess: he left earplugs and complimentary sunglasses on the nightstand and a folded, lead- lined bathrobe on the bed. On the nightstand was an engraved card with a drawing of a mushroom cloud that began "Dear Valued Guest"

Even though there was nothing more to be learned by reading the rest of the card, I did it anyway. It is remarkable for its disingenuity and because it is incapable of being parodized. I type it verbatim:

Dear Valued Guest,

Occasionally the local train conductor gets a little carried away when he comes through the great City of Eugene. In case you don't enjoy the sound of his whistle, we have placed these ear plugs in your room should you need them. Please do not hesitate to contact the Front Desk at extension 34 if we may be of assistance in any way. Thank you and have a wonderful stay,

The Staff at the Hilton Eugene & Conference Center

Hotel people are nearly always obsequious and full of it (except when they are arrogant and full of it, which is the definition of overpaying). But are they actually trying to make us believe from this card that Thomas the Tank Engine is going to come chugging down the track, steam billowing from its graceful smokestack, and that the most inconvenience we can expect is an overzealous "whistle?" Maybe Ringo Starr will narrate too. I don't think the cute choo-choo makes the hotel print these expensive cards and hand out free earplugs. My guess is that there is a Union Pacific Railroad nearby, and that heavy 100 car freight trains pulled by a six loco "consist" of EMD GP 38-2s, at 2000 HP per engine will be disrupting our sleep with the rumble of thousands of tons of freight and the unmistakeable blast of whatever those horns are they mount on the lococmotives, which I have always wanted to have mounted under the hood of my car. Email me if you know where to get those, because this is a Bucket List item for me.

I was sitting at the desk in our room later that night. We were speculating about how bad the train noise would be when I heard the horn. I said "That isn't bad at all." Connie said "I think it is still a great distance away." She was right. Over the ensuing minutes, it got louder and louder. When it got close, the guy leaned on the horn like he was getting paid by the decibel. During a sixty second period, it must have sounded for 45 seconds. There was no question that there was more to this story.

Hotels, and all businesses would be better served by telling the truth. Customers will understand. I don't know exactly what is going on in Eugene between the hotel and the railroad, but here is what they should have printed, which is definitely closer to the truth than the card in my room.

Dear Guest,

Several years ago, the gentleman who owns the Hilton Eugene & Conference Center had an extramarital affair. As it turns out, the lady in question was married to the chief engineer of the Union Pacific Railroad which runs right past the hotel. This was doubly tragic, as you are about to learn. There remains some enmity between the engineer and the owner. So let me explain the items we have left on your nightstand...

Getting around San Francisco- Turning the Tables

In spite of its history of earthquakes, fires, strikes, and attracting the most leftist, wacky politicians this side of Venezuela, San Francisco is still the best town in the United States.

We have periodically polled the kids on the best venues they have visited on the trip. Surprisingly, their lists have been heretofore been completely different. But today, the consensus #1 with the crew is: Frisco.

Maybe Frisco seems better when we have been at moderate altitude (6,000- 10,000 ft.) for over a week, and when it has been over 100 degrees at most of our venues for over a week. Maybe it helps that we are staying at the St. Francis, which is still the best hotel west of New York City (apologies to the Peabody, which can make an argument). Or maybe the kids just know a good place when they see it.

San Fran is the only city in the U.S., in my opinion, where public transportation is both effective, and enjoyable. With our new Green consciousness, public transportation has become the darling of the politically correct. In spite of that, mass transport isn't a bad idea. Unfortunately, public transportation is in this age run by governments, which means it is nearly always screwed up. I think O. Roy Chalk ran a pretty good show with D.C. Transit back in our hometown, at least when one compares it to the multi-state beauracracy that is WMATA. The Metro train itself is sterile and ugly, and the farecard system is unreliable and balky. The buses are dirty and crowded, except when they are dirty and empty. Does anyone in D.C. or its environs actually choose public transportation if they have options?

While the SF transportation system is multi layered, with BART, caternary-powered electric buses, imported european streetcars (I recognized one orange one as being from the Milan streetcar system), and the famed cable cars, I think the secret to the future of public transportation may lie in examining the oldest of these, the cable car.

The cable car is a slow motion roller coaster, trolling up and down the famed hills of SF. This appeals to all ages. For the older set, who would rather retain their lunches, the 9 mph traction cable speed means that there will not be any stomach- teasing drops. For the younger set, there is always the hope that the brakes will fail. The cars are open-aired, one can hang off of them as one pleases, and the stops are loosely defined. One bell means stop, two bells means go. This is the anti- technology and anti- safety/ anti-politically correct experience right here in the land of the opposite.

But here is the part to examine in depth, because DC does not have Nob Hill type steep hills, so no roller coaster opportunities. The cable car is operated by two men ( I guess they could be women too, just haven't seen any yet). One is called the Gripman. He stands in the forward center of the car and pulls on giant levers and decides who can come on board and how many. He is driving the train. The other guy is toward the rear and is the Conductor. He works the rear brakes, when necessary, but his most important job is to collect the fares. In cash. Which he keeps in his jacket, in various fly fishing type pockets. Piles of cash. I gave him a Benjamin for 6 All Day passes and he didn't even blink as he made change.

This system raises a number of questions. There aren't any turnstiles, or prepayment, so riders can theoretically board the car and not pay. The conductor collects cash, which he keeps on his person, with no segregation of duties. The paper tickets he issues as receipts seem to have no method of accounting reconciliation for the agency. No businessman in his right mind would condone this system, at least at first glance. If the Conductor is not stealing money and splitting it with the Gripman, then they should be both be canonized.

However, taking into account the strong possibility of theft, this system works better than east coast mass transit agencies. No farecards. No broken machines. No lines at the turnstiles. No morbid underground stations that feel like a premature interment. No broken escalators. Just an open air ride. The two guys running the car are happy to explain how it works. They are no doubt netting a decent buck, with whatever they are probably skimming from this all-cash venture. And they probably have an impeccable safety record. I have never heard of a cable car crash. Who wants to get fired for an accident when you are making about $200,000 a year operating a cable car, most of it tax-free?

Now, there are still some aspects of the cable car operation that make no sense. San Francisco is a very strong union town and I suspect these inefficiencies arise out of union rules.

As one example, at the end of the line at the Hyde Street terminus, the cable car is parked by the Gripman on an antique wooden roundtable. Then, it is turned about 340 degrees to line up with a siding to make the return trip. The car is turned around by the Gripman and the Conductor. By hand. Or more accurately, by the legs, back and both arms of each man, and with a considerable expenditure of effort. The tourists seem to enjoy this little show of a quaint feature of yesteryear. I look at this operation and think: who is managing the Municipal Railway's Workmen's Compensation program? These Conductors and Gripmen are not spring chickens. Probably, this is the ultimate perc in the union operating engineers' heirarchy, to be a cash skimming cable car operator. So once they make their way to the top, they can collect the cash and do their own accounting, but they have to turn around a heavy 100 year old railway car by hand, many times per day. I am imagining the loss runs for Comp claims every month:

Name: Jones, William

Injury: Lower Back

Cause: Pushing Railway car by Hand

Date of Incident: 5/25/09

Status: Reserve Posted

Name: Johnson, Phil

Injury: Slipped Disc

Cause: Pushing Railway Car by Hand

Date of Incident: 5/26/09

Status: Reserve Posted

Name: Miller, John

Injury: Burst Achilles Tendon

Cause: Pushing Railway Car by Hand

Date of Incident: 5/27/09

Status: Reserve Posted

Name: Flanagan, Tom

Injury: Cardiac Arrest

Cause: Pushing Railway Car by Hand

Date of Incident: 5/28/09

Status: Reserve Posted

And so on. It just has to be happening. Who is analyzing the data?

General Manager: "Any fix yet on why our experience mod is 1.7 and our premiums are doubling?"

Risk Manager: "Beats me, boss, these injuries are just all over the place- heels, backs, discs, heart attacks- who knows? We can't get a trend on it. We should put some more investment into our wellness programs"

But whatever the inefficiencies of this system are, the operation doubtless costs less than the Farecard machines and Cigar Store guards that grace our DC "modern" transit system. Even with all of the computer controlled track traffic there are still crashes on the Metro, including the tragic one recently. I wish we still had streetcars in DC. I am old enough to remember them and the rides on which my grandparents, Nan and George O'Rourke, took us. They were fun, and maybe they were slightly unsafe too. That was public transportation one looked forward to.

Cash is King

Today's newsletter is about the importance of conserving cash and keeping your assets in products that can be easily liquidated when the need arises. What do I mean by this, specifically?

When I left on this trip I took a decent amount of cash with me, which I always keep in my wallet (right hip pocket for you pickpockets out there). I took about $600 in twenties, the rest in hundred dollar bills. Although people talk about this being a cashless society, it is not. You cannot charge everything. You need money for tips, incidentals, for the kids, for purchases when the credit card machine doesnt work, and for places that don't take credit cards, like every Greek restaurant on the planet. If you have kids and you have ever been on vacation, you know you are spitting out cash faster than an ATM.

Unfortunately, the largest practical denomination of currency in this country, despite the devaluation of the dollar over time, is the twenty dollar bill. I don't understand it, but it is true. Nobody likes fifties because they look like twenties. Even I don't like fifties because if I don't have my glasses on they look like twenties. Hand the clerk a fifty for a $17 purchase, and he will invariably hand you back $3 change, whether he knows it is a fifty or not. "I gave you a fifty" you point out. "A thousand pardons, my friend" he quickly says as he gives you the other $30 he was hoping to steal.

The hundred dollar bill might as well be foreign currency, or a savings bond. Whip one of those Franklins out in most places and the clerk will turn ashen. If you have a $100 bill, you must be a drug dealer. Or it is counterfeit. Or it will render their business illiquid if they give you change for it. If they will accept it, they have to rub a brown crayon all over it first to make sure it doesnt have AIDS or something. It's ridiculous. First of all, and sad to say, $100 is not a lot of money anymore. So what's the problem? When I was young I saw a guy pay a gambling debt with ten $1,000 bills (Grover Clevelands). That was huge money then. They should make $1,000 bills now, which would be the $100 bill of yesteryear. But they are long extinct.

I am carrying all those hundreds because to carry an equivalent amount in twenties, my wallet would look like a softball. So the plan is, they are for emergencies and I will refill my wallet with twenties at any of the thousands of conveniently located ATMs throughout this great country.

If any of you are looking to change careers, or are looking for a business opportunity that is recession- proof, here it is: ATM repairman. Because everywhere I go on this trip, when I need to obtain twenties from the ATM, either the ATM is Out of Service, with a hand written sign proudly stating so, or it cannot read my ATM card, meaning it is also out of service, but no one knows or cares.

Yesterday morning we were leaving Brian Head, Utah. Before we left, Connie went to breakfast at the hotel with Fiona and Neil. I loaded the van with Owen. She asks me if I want anything. I say "two ham and eggs sandwiches on toast to go". We get the van loaded finally and they come out and get in the car. "Here is your bagel" she says. My mouth has been watering for a ham and egg on toast. "I wanted ham and egg sandwiches!" I protest. She says "They don't make them."

Obviously Connie has never seen Five Easy Pieces and the scene with Jack Nicholson in the diner. It would be very easy to get ham and egg sandwiches from this restaurant in Brian Head. You just have to walk them through it after the sandwich request is denied:

"Do you have ham and eggs then?"

"Yes. How would you like your eggs?"

"Over easy. Can I get that with toast?"

"Yes. White or wheat?"

"Wheat. Can you put the egg on top of one of the pieces of toast?"

"Uh, sure."

"And the ham on top of the egg?'

"Okay."

" One more request, I don't mean to be a pain here. But then could you put the other slice of toast on top of the ham?"

"Sure, okay."

"You got any waxed paper in the back?"

Anyway, Connie won't harrass people like this so I am out of luck, for there is no time for me to go into the restaurant and do this, much as I would enjoy it. As a consolation she tells me "There is an ATM in the lobby."

This is great news because I am in need of 20 dollar bills. I never noticed it. "Where is it?" I ask. She tells me it is in a niche around the corner from the front desk.

I go inside and there it is, in a confessional booth where you would never find it unless you were hunting for it. I put in my card but it will not read it. I try it fast, then slow. I then try the three other orientations that the card will go in the slot. "Card error try again" is always the response.

I go around the corner five feet to the front desk and ask Lance or whatever his name is whether the ATM is broken. "I hope not!" he says overdramatically and races out to see what the problem is. He takes my card, swipes it once and the machines blinks into action. Must be in the wrist.

The machine asks me what language I am, English or Espanol, and then I have to check the box that says I agree to their $2.50 fee for this service. I say "I do" and we are off to the races.

The machine displays a screen that says: Check how much you would like to withdraw: $10, $20, $30, or Enter Different Amount. I am thinking en Espanol :"Are you chitting me?" I push Enter Different Amount.

"Enter the Amount You Would Like" says the ATM. I enter: $500. The screen says: "Request Invalid. Enter Any Amount in $10 Increments Up To $200."

I say a very bad word too loudly. This panics Lance, unseen on the other side of the confessional. "Is everything all right sir?" I mutter yes and pocket the crummy 200 bucks, cursing the 1.25% vigorish I had to pay the thieving maching. I vow to conserve these precious twenties.

We had a fabulous drive all day- 560 miles down a narrow two lane backtop through the mountains and valleys with hardly anyone on the road. I stop for lunch and gas in Ely, Nevada. It is one of the few gas stations on this route so whoever is on the road, is here. There are two formica tables inside and a sandwich counter so Connie takes the kids inside for lunch. Neil wants to check the air filter since we went through a big dust storm in the Wah Wah Valley. I try to operate the pump. My fuel card requires a driver ID and the odometer to be entered on the keypad at the pump. The machine reads my card and then asks me for Driver ID. But the keypad is unresponsive- I can't enter it. I try a credit card but the machine wants the Driver ID and declares my attempt to use a different credit card invalid. I can't cancel the transaction because the keypad doesn't work. I stubbornly try everything. Finally, I trudge inside and explain all of this to the girl behind the counter. I leave her my fuel card. Connie asks me what I want to eat and I tell her. I go back outside. A bunch of motorcyclists are waiting for a pump to free up. But since Neil is taking apart the engine they assume the van has some problem and that is why it has been sitting here for ten minutes already. The tank is nearly empty and it takes a while to fill up.

I go to pay for the gas and she hands me a key pad. "Enter Vehicle Number" it says. No machine ever asks this. I enter my Driver ID instead, figuring that is what it wants. Then it says "Enter Driver ID". I now know this transaction is doomed, but I enter it anyway. "Enter Odometer". I enter that and wait while the machine thinks it over. Finally the girl says "Invalid Vehicle Number". I tell her I don't have a vehicle number. She advises me that this is part of the approval procedure. I hand her a different credit card. Her machine will not read it. This is the third problem she has had with me. "Do you have any cash?" she asks. I pull out a hundred. She doesn't trust me by now and shakes her head. I reluctantly fork over three of the twenties I had vowed to protect. I turn around to see how the sandwiches are coming. The sandwich girl is preparing them with the care of a mosaic craftsman, and at the same pace. I have hundreds of miles to go. I take a deep breath.

Everything goes great until about 325 miles later when I need gas again. I pull into an Arco in Carson City, two blocks down from the State Capitol building. There is nothing on the pump to feed my card into. Instead, it instructs me to visit a central automatic kiosk. I go to the kiosk, which looks like it will take cash or cards. I enter my pump number, then insert my card. It cannot be read, of course. I try a different one. It cannot be read. Meanwhile Connie and the kids all scramble for candy and bathrooms.

I go inside to the counter. "My card won't work" I tell one of the two ladies there. "Is it a credit card?" she asks. I tell her yes. "We aren't set up for credit cards- only debit cards or cash". Who carries debit cards? Arent they for people who are trying to repair their credit or something? I tell her this is the most insane thing I have heard of. She tells me there is a Shell station five blocks in the wrong direction that takes credit cards. But retreat is not in my creed, plus the family has scattered. I hand her a $100 bill. "We can't make change for a hundred" she says. "How do you know I won't buy $100 worth of gas?" I plead. "Can't do it- it's our policy".

So three more twenties vacate my wallet. I have now lost 6 of my 10 expensive notes purchased only this morning. I go outside and fill the van. $58.08- good guess. While I am filling it I read the signage on the kiosk and it says it accepts cash, debit cards, and ATMs. I curse myself for not having read it before.

When I am finished I go inside and tell the second lady I want to pay for my gas with my ATM. She asks me how I pumped it in the first place. I tell her I handed the other lady a $60 cash deposit. They tell me unison that it is too late; that this has been recorded as a cash transaction and it is impossible to undo. It's like a tattoo.

I get my buck ninety two in change and I think- there are casinos up and down this street. They must have an ATM here in the station that has high limits. Probably it will give me a thousand in twenties. I ask the lady hopefully "Do you have an ATM here?"

She shakes her head. "It's broken."