SLO Travel

Aviano Air Base

2008-03-24T16:05:00.001-07:00

In October of 1993, I was part a team of 15 airmen who performed two weeks of active duty for training at Aviano Air Base, Italy. Two of the airmen were airwomen and I had an assistant, Master Sergeant Stephen K. Y. Lee.
Sunday
We flew from San Francisco to Philadelphia where I looked for the AMC counter to provide military assistance. First we looked in Terminal D, then we hauled our bags for 40 minutes to Terminal A, then I picked up the white courtesy phone and called to ask where the AMC folks were and we hauled our bags back to Terminal D. The essence of leadership is to project confidence that you know what you are doing at all times.
Airport food prices were sky-high–$8 for a hamburger–so I ate crackers and peanut butter at the USO inside the terminal.
Monday
From Philadelphia we flew to Lajes Field in the Azores where we were encouraged to stay on the aircraft because of the heavy rain and darkness outside. After a 90-minute stay on the ground, we continued to Aviano where we landed at 0815 and received our work and billeting assignments.
Aviano was a forward deployment base for sorties over Iraq and Kuwait so we had lots of Marine aircraft and lost of Marines sharing facilities with us.
Mildred and Ava were assigned to Tent B-2 and the rest of us to Tents D-3 and D-4, except for Carlos, whose girl friend flew over and rented an off-base villa for the two of them.
Trying to understand the shower tent scheduling gave me a headache–three categories and four shifts for each category. Women, enlisted and officers/senior NCOs were expected to shower at separate times, which I suppose made sense. I wouldn’t want a private staring at my privates.
Rain in northern Italy in October was intermittent day and night.
Tuesday
I bought 94,000 lira for $60 and we went to Tussi’s off base where I spent 30,000 lira for dinner. Carlos introduced me to his girl friend, Wendy, and invited me to join them on off base tours between work shifts. We signed up for a USO day trip to Venice on Saturday and gave ourselves that day off.
Captain LaSheer, base Marine commandant, sent word that he wanted to see me. He informed me that everyone in the Marine compound (tent city, where we were billeted) who wore a flight suit was an officer and told me that "Hey, man" was not an acceptable greeting for an enlisted man to give to an officer and maybe I wanted to talk to SSgt Easter about that.
Aviano was built during World War II as an Axis base for Italian operations and was constructed in two sections. The flight line was about two miles from the main base in order to protect the infrastructure from bombs directed at the operational portion of the base.
Wednesday
Our liaison, SSgt Taylor, issued us a staff vehicle for Senior NCO use. Steve Lee and I drove up the mountain to Pian Cavallo, a ski resort. We had an espresso then drove back down the mountain to Pordenone. We parked in the financial district and walked around. It was like Rodeo Drive. We sat at a table in a restaurant, reviewed the menu and the prices, and quietly left before the waiter came. If I were in the U.S., I would have been embarrassed but I took solace that we were only ignorant foreigners and did not have to live up to Italian expectations.
We stopped at a pizzeria on the way back and I ordered a Calzone–mushrooms, cheese, prosciutto and a big ball of buttermilk curd–Yum! We had cappuccino for dessert and spent 15,000 lira for the meal.
Back at base, the Marines were having a toga party. Pretty scary.
Wednesday
This was picnic day for the 608th Air Logistics Squadron. We wore civilian clothes to attend a Cajun-style affair with some good local wine for those going off duty.
Afterward I went to Verona with Carlos and Wendy. We drove for three hours and arrived at 4:30 pm.
We walked around the Roman arena, still in use for night plays during the summer, and went downtown after dark. Juliette’s balcony was on display, with an opportunity to drop coins into a slot in the wall.
We sat in the Centro and drank cappuccino and returned to Aviano about 10 pm.
Thursday
I borrowed a broom and dust pan from the Billeting Office to clean our tent and signed a hand receipt for it.
SSgt Taylor, Marty, invited me to his house for dinner. I bought a couple of six packs of Heineken to take and a bouquet of carnations for his wife, Elma. Her parents lived with them, Keith and Betty, and people came in and out all evening. Betty cooked corn, butterbeans, potatoes, macaroni, chicken, beef, apple cake, peach cobbler and cherry cheesecake. Marty served a Spanish red wine and drove me back to the tents after dinner.
Saturday
After breakfast at the chow hall, we boarded the bus at 0730 for Venice. Ava and Mildred ran a little late. They were showering when we left the tents for the chow hall so Gary Soriano drove back from the chow hall to pick them up.
We had bright sunshine as we rolled away from base and the Dolomites to the north were peaked with snow.
We met our guide, Michael, at Piazza Roma and took a water taxi to the beginning of the walking tour. Michael took us to the "last truly authentic gondola shop" where the family turns out two boats per year. They showed us tools and materials and explained procedures and history.
We walked through the city, visiting Santa Maria de la Salute, Piazza San Marco and the church of St George of the Greeks and took a gondola ride across the Grand Canal.
Michael took us to his favorite caffe for lunch and we had salad, pasta, bread and wine and I chose a cheese lasagne for entree. Next to us, three tables of Italian men in suits had a great time, singing, cheering, shouting, tables filled with white wine and lobster.
Rain fell after lunch as we walked through the Doges palace courtyard and across the Bridge of Sighs. Inside St Mark’s Basilica, we paid 2,000 lira to view the gold altar screen behind the sepulcher.
The Arsenal was a highlight. It was the first modern application of assembly line techniques and standard parts. The Venetians could build a war galley from keel to completion in four hours, then send it down the canal past the chandlery building and outfit it in six hours and sent it seaward on its mission. Since they used standard parts of the same size, they could be repaired anywhere in the world that had a Venetian base.
At the end of the tour, Michael faded away and disappeared before anyone knew he was leaving.
We waited in front of the Hotel Danieli for the Number One vaporetto to take us back to the bus. As we waited, I strode inside the hotel with purpose and a steely gaze and made my way back to the rest rooms, then out a side door to avoid the doormen.
Back out front, Omar Salvarado mentioned that he needed to use the rest room so I took him inside. We did not fool the doormen a second time–they intercepted us and escorted us back out the front door.
The vaporetto made 14 stops along the Grand Canal before dropping us at Piazza Roma. While Michelle rounded up the bus, we bought hot roasted chestnuts for a little snack.
We arrived back at base about 7:30 pm and drove to the Western Caffe in Aviano for pizza and wine before returning to our tent and going to bed.
Sunday
We slept straight through until the 0500 alarm, showered and headed for work. No one was on duty when we showed up at 0600 because the weekend shift starts at 0700 so we went to breakfast at the chow hall.
Steve Lee mopped our tent and I returned the broom and dust pan to Billeting in return for my hand receipt.
Seven of us took the Suburban to Pordenone for Chinese food. Steve thought he could order for us since he is Chinese but our hosts had been in Italy for a few generations and spoke only Italian. We persevered in our desire to order large portions to share rather than individual dinners and had a wonderful meal. The bill was 161,000 lira, $107, which we split equally after Mildred paid with a traveler’s check.
Monday
Steve and I went to the NCO Club for lunch and it was great–tortellini soup and veal scallopini and a chunk of Gorgonzola for dessert, the best cheese I’ve ever tasted.
Steve and Mildred and "E" (SSGT Easter) and I drove to Trieste after lunch to see Miramare, Maximilian’s castle. I took the car up to 160 kph on the autostrada, stopping for occasional toll booths.
We arrived at the castle at 4:40 pm, forty minutes after it closed, so we walked about the grounds and took photos of the sun sinking into the Adriatic.
We drove into downtown Trieste and parked at the harbor opposite the downtown square and chatted with a young man who gave us some history of Trieste and some of his views about world politics and American policy.
After an espresso on the square, we drove back to Aviano for dinner at Vecchio’s, which is closed on Mondays. We went across the road to Da Genio and I had gnocchi a la Gorgonzola with trout and white wine.
Tuesday
After taking care of Air Force business most of the day, Steve and Mildred and I drove to Austria and had dinner in Villach in the Alps. Snow appeared beside the roadway up higher but no ice.
We ate at the Romantik Restaurant/Hotel–venison in cranberry sauce and mashed potato balls fried in sliced almonds and a soup of sour cream with bits of beef. The town was pretty much closed down for holiday. I asked the maitre’d if it was customary to tip and he said it would be appreciated.
Wednesday
Steve and Mildred and I left Aviano at 1:30 pm and drove two hours to Slovenia. At the Donino toll exit, a carabiniere waved us over and told us that my ID card was not sufficient for driving, I needed a potente internationale. We all nodded vigorously and said okay and he let us proceed.
The Slovenian border guards were reluctant to allow us into their country. Mildred told them we would spend only a couple of hours so they let us pass.
We drove to the tip of the peninsula to Pran and spent an hour or so walking about the waterfront. I found an ATM that converted a 10,000 lira bill into 740 Slovenia somethings. We had an espresso and bought post cards and took photos, then drove to Portorosso after dark.
Steve and Mildred bought candy from a shop on the main street and I bought a piece of hand-painted crystal.
We found a nice waterfront restaurant for dinner, with Italians in the booth on one side of us and Germans on the other. The waitress accommodated all languages presented.
Mildred had scampi, Steve beefsteak and I ordered calamari. First course was fish soup, full of baby calamari, clams, fish and one shrimp. Next was fried calamari stuffed with green pepper followed by fried calamari with butter and garlic. The waitress served us fiery schnapps after dinner with ice cream.
We had no difficulty crossing the border to return and arrived back at Aviano just before 11 pm.
Thursday
This was the last duty day for day shift. Swing got off Wednesday night and planned to go to Austria.
Carlos’ car was broken into Wednesday at Miramonte and Wendy’s passport was stolen. They planned to go to Milano Friday to get another.
Captain Carver gave us a certificate of appreciation for our two weeks of work, a rare honor, and several people were singled out for individual recognition.
We hosted a dinner at Tussi’s for our active duty counterparts. Tussi began with misciotti, a five-sauce pasta, then barbecued ribs, chicken and sausages. The final course was a glass of grappa, very smooth. Carlos treated everyone to flaming Sambucco.
We went afterward to the NCO Club and celebrated our superior rating with champagne and cognac.
Friday
Steve, Mildred, Stanley John, John Foster and I had breakfast at the chow hall and took off for San Marino. I had the great idea of avoiding toll stations by taking scenic Route 309 south from Mestre through Ravenna. The truckers prefer that route also so we spent several hours breathing Diesel smoke. We arrived at San Marino at noon, the beginning of siesta.
The country is 24 square miles, rising to a mountainous peak in the center. That is the site of three towers and the old city, built in the 13th Century. We parked near the top and walked about for several hours.
When siesta ended, we paid 3,000 lira to tour Tower One and admired the view of the Adriatic Sea and the Dalmatian coast, which we could not see because of the haze.
We left about 4 pm and took the autostrada back through Bologna and Ferrara. We stopped at an Auto Grill for sandwiches.
Traffic through Bologna was stop and go approaching the toll plazas. We finally got back to Aviano at 8:00 pm and went to Vecchio’s for pizza and gelato.
Saturday
We took a bus to Marco Polo airport in Venice and flew to San Francisco through Frankfort where security was very tight. In fact, they concentrated so hard on what might be in our baggage that they lost track of where it was supposed to go. We arrived in San Francisco 24 hours before our duffel bags did.
So that was that. Another successful annual tour, working hard and earning the gratitude of the active duty folks for helping them fulfill the Air Force mission.

Anacapa Island

2008-03-19T17:08:00.000-07:00

Fourteen miles west of Ventura Harbor, Anacapa Island rose from heaving waters like the peg end of a thole pin–straight up-and-down cliffs with no place to dock. Timing the ocean’s surge in the tiny landing cove, our captain placed the nose of his boat against the rock and rammed the engines forward full thrust.
Crew people shouted at us to hurry, one at a time, over the bow onto the flooding steps of a rusty ladder and up to safety, a platform constructed on a rocky ledge just above the tops of the breaking waves. Mrs. Davis thought this was quite thrilling.
After a moment to catch our breath, we climbed a combination of ladder rungs and concrete steps to the top, the grassy plain that makes up the surface of the island.
Our voyage from Ventura Harbor took just over an hour and we arrived at 10:30 a.m., escorted by a pod of dolphins surfing in the bow wake.
Atop the island, we walked past noisy throngs of nesting seagulls to the headquarters building and met Dave Begun, a volunteer naturalist, part of a group of about 30 who assist the park service. Dave briefed us on Anacapa’s natural history, beginning with the intriguing observation that the Channel islands are so important as nesting habitat that "There would be virtually no sea birds in Southern California if it were not for these islands."
Anacapa is three islands, East, Middle and West. Boats are allowed to land at two of them; West Anacapa is off limits to the public. It is home to the largest known breeding colony of California brown pelicans, about 8,000 couples, and they require solitude in order to nest.
East island, where we landed, consists of about 100 acres and is the breeding site for 10,000 Western gulls. They come in March and stay until September. The female lays 2-3 eggs and the chicks hatch in May. Within six weeks they're the same size as their parents but they are a different color–a dirty brown–until they reach full plumage in about four years.
Gulls mate for life and share duties raising their chicks. One sits on the nest while the other one hunts and brings food back to the nest. The red spot on the parents’ beak is called the pecking target. When chicks peck at it, the parents know they are hungry and regurgitate food for them.
Anacapa and Santa Barbara are the west coast’s primary bird breeding islands because neither has fresh water; hence, no predators. Gulls get most of their water from their food source. A secondary source is salt water because they can excrete salt through glands. In a pinch, they can also fly to the mainland for a drink.
Dave gave us a primer on island life as we walked west toward Inspiration Point.
Most of Channel Islands National Park is under water. Two major ocean streams meet here and generate more diversity of sea animals in Santa Barbara channel than anywhere else in the world. The confluence of cold and warm currents causes a churning and stirring up of nutrients that enriches the water with food for birds and sea animals. Blue and humpback whales feed in the channel all summer long. A total of 28 species of whales and dolphins inhabit the area and Dave told us that we were liable to see a whale at any time.
The north side of Anacapa is closed to fishing and the south side is open, under the theory that north side nurseries will replenish the south side fishing area, and that seems to work.
Mice, lizards and salamanders are the only animal species native to Anacapa but this was not always the case. Naturalists have found mammoth remains in sandy areas of the channel islands that are 4-5 feet high. Dave told us that the isolated breeding area of islands causes small species to grow larger and large species to grow smaller, so you eventually have pygmy mammoths and dwarf elephants. Taken to extremes, he said that at one time, on the Komodo islands, large lizards ate dwarf elephants.
Man’s intrusion has changed island ecology in extreme ways. Since 1600, the Age of Exploration, 60 to 70 per cent of the world’s species extinctions have occurred on islands and were caused by rats escaping from ships.
Anacapa has no trees and most of the island is covered by non-native plant species. In a mistake that compounded itself, the Coast Guard brought rabbits to the island in the 1930s. After the rabbits ate the vegetation, ice plant was brought in to control erosion. We have now discovered that ice plant poisons the soil by injecting salt from the air so it is being systematically eradicated.
Buena High School students from Ventura come to the island to pull out non-native plants as part of an ongoing science project. They dry the ice plant and spread it on trails for dust control.
Santa Cruz buckwheat is one of about 150 native plants found on the islands that occur nowhere else on earth.
Anacapa’s most famous plant, Coreopsis, normally blooms from mid-March to mid-April. We missed it this year, however. Early rain the previous October was followed by a spell of warm weather that fooled the six-foot plants. They bloomed and peaked in February and went dormant early. When they are in full bloom, the golden glow is visible from the mainland.
The oldest North American human remains discovered so far were found on the Channel Islands, a 13,000-year old female femur. Peak population on the islands was 2,000 spread among several dozen villages going back at least 9,000 years. The Chumash people left the islands in 1820 and joined the mission system where 90 per cent of them died of disease.
Anacapa lighthouse, completed in 1932 was the last lighthouse built on the west coast. Only two residences remain on the island now–housing a park ranger and a full time maintenance man. Rangers work a week on and a week off, changing out every Wednesday.
Since there is no natural fresh water on Anacapa; two 55,000 gallon redwood tanks store the island’s supply of water. They are refilled about every two years by a tanker ship. Solar panels charge batteries that are converted to AC power and the maintenance tractor runs on recycled vegetable oil.
The island has lots of solitude and sometimes people react in peculiar ways. Dave told us that the strangest incident occurred several years ago. A female ranger noticed that a camper was acting strangely and she was frightened enough that she locked herself into the visitors center overnight. The camper was gone in the morning. He had completely vanished and was never seen again.
Dave ended his tour at Inspiration Point, the west end of the island which has views of Middle and Western Anacapa. Gail and I walked around the north perimeter and back to the campground in the middle of the island where we had a picnic on one of the tables, serenaded by several hundred hungry gulls.
After lunch, we walked to the lighthouse at the east end, then back to the small museum in the headquarters building and looked at the exhibits there. By the time we had traversed all the walking paths on the island, we logged just under four miles.
It was time to leave then, and we boarded the boat much as we had disembarked in the morning–closely following crew instructions and timing our scrambles over the bow to the flow of the waves crashing into the cliff.
A pair of humpback whales escorted us partway back to Ventura Harbor, breaching and blowing and sounding as the sun set behind them. We felt as if we received more than our money’s worth for the day’s trip.
INFORMATION BOX: The Channel Islands are a National Park (http://www.nps.gov/chis/homepage). Island Packers (http://www.blogger.com/(http://www.islandpackers.com/anacapa.html) operates the transportation concession to Anacapa. Cost is $38-42 per person for day trips that allow up to five hours on East Anacapa. Other trips, including whale watching and overnight camping support, are available–telephone 805-642-1393.

The Blue Haired Ladies of Branson

2008-03-02T16:48:00.000-08:00

October 21, 2007
Sunday
We rested.
Monday
We left Pleasant Hill in a pouring rain and drove south to Shell Knob, new home to Gail’s brother David Walters and his lovely bride, Diann.
Dave drove us into Arkansas to see the sights. We toured Berryville and Eureka Springs, home of the historic Crescent Hotel, built in 1886. Eureka Springs is a fabulous village, built around hot springs on tree-covered Ozark hillsides. It was Monday in late October and we did not see a single vacant parking space on the streets.
Tuesday
Dave drove us through Mark Twain National Forest past Shepherd of the Hills Historic Homestead and Observation Tower to Branson. The town was packed, though David said that summers are even more crowded.
Theatre after theatre, hotel after hotel–Dolly Parton’s Dixie Stampede across the street from Dick Clark’s American Bandstand.
Observing billboards and marquees answered the question, "Where have all theold rock and rollers gone?"
We visited the Bass Pro Shop and White River Promenade. Imagine a store large enough to contain trees, a fishing stream, a salt water aquarium and a four-story waterfall. Three thousand fishing rods and enough guns to outfit Blackwater. More outdoor clothing than REI.
Bass Pro has forty-three stores nationwide and twelve more under construction, under the sole ownership of Johnny Morris of Springfield MO. No stockholders, no board of directors. Even California has one, in Cucamonga, and two more a-building in Bakersfield and Manteca.
Dave took us to lunch at Devils Pool Restaurant in Big Cedar. Johnny Morris owns that too. Not just the restaurant, but the cottages, lodges, marina, golf course, stables, spa and sauna.
On a Tuesday afternoon in late October, Falls Lodge did not have a vacant room.
After lunch, we drove back to Shell Knob and inspected the S.S. Dianna, Dave and Diann’s tri-pontoon pleasure boat. They dock at a marina that is a short golf-cart drive from the Walters estate on Table Rock Lake, 43,000 acres, 745 miles of shoreline,.
Wednesday
Gail and I got on the road at 0200 and drove a thousand miles to Gallup.
Thursday
On the road again at 0300. West of Needles, we passed a convoy of Arizona fire engines on their way to Southern California.
Barstow was full of smoke from the wild fires and so was Bakersfield but we didn’t slow down. Eight hundred miles today and home in time for supper.

Happy Cows Make Blue Cheese

2008-03-02T16:38:00.001-08:00

October 19, 2007
Friday
Our first Toyota driver on Thursday, Martin, who delivered us to the Lincoln Museum, was so intrigued by our story about Maytag Blue Cheese that he called me later in the day on my mobile phone with an urgent message. He had two passengers with him, Mr and Mrs Griggsby, who make cheese upstate near Nauvoo.
Martin put Mr Griggsby on the line and Mr Griggsby told me that he had worked with the University of Iowa team when they perfected the method of making blue cheese out of cow’s milk, the methodology that launched the Maytag Dairy Farm into the cheese business.
Mr Griggsby was well acquainted with the Maytag Dairy Farm and he wanted us to come visit his place so he put Mrs Griggsby on the telephone to give us directions. She did not quite do that, giving me just a list of towns they were near and her telephone number if we want to call again for directions.
She also said that their children are trying to get them to move to California so it may be that it is already too late for us to plan a visit to their farm.
Today we drove across Illinois and Iowa to Newton and the Maytag Dairy Farm and filled up out bags with wheels of cheese.
Then we drove south to Kansas City and on to Pleasant Hill to the home of Anne and Steve Busch, family members through marriage, to spend the weekend. Uncle Tim joined us from Fort Smith.
Saturday
Steve drove us to Liberty and we went past the Jesse James Bank Museum, where Frank and Jesse James and the Younger brothers performed the first daytime bank robbery in the United States in 1866.
Then we drove to the James farm, now a county park preserving the farm and cabin where the James family grew up.
The cabin was built in 1822 and purchased by Robert and Zerelda James in 1845. Robert went to California in 1850 and died in Placerville. Zerelda lost the home, remarried a couple of times and eventually moved back into the farmhouse with both her old and her new families.
Hired by the railroad to stop the incessant robberies of their baggage cars, Pinkerton agents tried first to infiltrate the gang. Clay county was still full of southern sympathizers who protected the James family and two of the agents turned up dead, one of them eaten by hogs.
A group of agents attacked the farm in 1875 and threw a firebomb through a window. The explosion killed Jesse’s younger half-brother and severed Zerelda’s arm. This incident turned public sympathy in favor of the James-Younger gang members with interesting results.
The railroad that hired the Pinkertons negotiated with Zerelda and finally gave her a lifetime pass. She used it as often as she could and rounded up as many people as she could to accompany her for free passage. When she died, she was on the train and our guide believes Zerelda would have been delighted that she put one last spur into railroad management.
The other result was that the Missouri legislature came within a few votes of passing a bill that praised the gang members and would have given them amnesty.
Zerelda lived in the house until she died in 1911, 29 years after Jesse was murdered "by a traitor and coward whose name is not worthy to appear here," part of the inscription that she engraved on his tombstone.
Frank inherited the house and lived in it until he died in 1915. Both Zerelda and Frank ran the farm as a tourist attraction. Jesse was buried in the front yard where Zerelda could keep an eye on the grave and tombstone to prevent souvenir hunters from defiling it while she maintained a trove of souvenirs to sell.
Frank’s wife continued to live in the house until she died in 1944. Jesse’s grandchildren then inherited the house and lived in it until 1970 when they sold the farm to Clay County. Jesse’s great-grandchildren are still alive.
We went to the Westport Flea Market for Kansas City’s Best Hamburger, a ten-ounce patty cooked to order and "dressed the way you like it," washed down with a cold draft Boulevard beer.
We then visited the National World War I Museum and Liberty Memorial of Kansas City. The Liberty Memorial Tower is 217 feet high. We took the elevator to the top and walked around the observation deck and observed Kansas City below.
Inside the Museum we passed through exhibits commemorating the war.
Between 1914 and 1919, 65 million soldiers fought and nine million of them died. After the first two years of warfare, one-third of the men on each side had been killed. World War I killed one-third of French males between the ages of 18 and 31.
In 1917, Germany’s foreign minister sent a secret telegram to the German ambassador in Mexico instructing him to propose that Mexico join Germany in a military alliance against the United States. British agents intercepted this telegram and turned it over to their American cousins. This, combined with Germany’s resumption of unrestricted submarine warfare against non-combatant merchant ships, persuaded Woodrow Wilson to ask Congress for a declaration of war.
American intervention turned the tide and changed the world and American boys ("How will you keep them down on the farm after they’ve seen Paree?") forever. An unexpected event, however, was that, after spending time in France and Paris, American soldiers returned home and found out they could no longer buy a drink in their own country.
We had dinner in a gas station in Kansas, at a place called Oklahoma Joe’s. People lined up out the door for piles of pork and beef and beans and slaw served on paper towels and a tray.
It isn’t really a gas station any more but you couldn’t tell that until you drove into the parking lot and smelled the glorious scent of barbecued meat. Management has preserved as much of the interior of the service station as possible while adding a kitchen and a serving counter and a blackboard listing combinations of ribs, chicken, sausages and beef. Confronted with irresistible temptation, we ate again.

Land of Lincoln

2008-03-02T16:30:00.000-08:00

October 18, 2007
Thursday
We entered the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Museum shortly after 9:00 and went to the Grant Theater and saw a presentation, The Ghosts of Lincoln. This was an exploration of the place that history has in our lives and why historians have preserved Lincoln memorabilia.
In the Union Theater we saw Lincoln’s Eyes, a study of how the events in his life shaped his face and his eyes. A mask imprint of his face in 1865 looked more like a death mask than a life mask, a marked difference from the laugh lines that marked his face in 1861.
The Museum provides Mrs. Lincoln’s Attic as a playhouse for children, but lacks a means for locking them inside.
We watched a Tim Russert coverage of the candidates and issues of the 1860 Presidential campaign, concluding that the campaign issues were inconclusive. I was reminded of Doris Kearns Goodwin’s assertion that Lincoln positioned himself at the 1860 Republican convention to be, not anyone’s first choice, but everyone’s second choice. When the delegates deadlocked on the initial votes for the Republican Presidential candidate, Lincoln became the obvious choice.
The cafeteria listed on its menu food items named after characters in Lincoln’s lifetime. My favorite was the George McClellan Chicken Sandwich.
We watched a map of the United States that represented the Civil War in four minutes, one week equals one second. Week by week, battle by battle, the casualties mounted up to more than 1.3 million American men killed, wounded or imprisoned.
Major Henry Abbott wrote a letter to his mother in April 1864 and he quoted from a conversation that he had with General Meade–"among other things, Uncle Abe is tender-hearted about shooting a deserter but that he was perfectly willing to sacrifice a thousand brave men in a useless fight." Politicians want to be generals and generals want to be politicians.
At the time Lincoln took office, one in seven Americans were slaves. Lincoln always went back to the Declaration of Independence for inspiration as to what constituted a democracy, that "all men are created equal..." and to him that meant that slavery could not stand in a democracy. He was opposed to slavery from childhood, to the point of exclaiming that when he heard a man support the institution, his reaction was that that man should be the first enslaved. This is an ignoble sentiment out of character for Mr Lincoln and I take that as an indication of his deep feeling for the matter.
Slavery, though, was not the casus belli. It was union, whether any State had the right to break away from the country, and it was this issue that ignited men’s passions to fight a war. Lincoln recognized that, even though the war began over dissolution, slavery was the root cause and the great evil that prevented the two sides from living together. He knew that eventually the country would come to see that as he did. He was willing to lead the country away from slavery but he had to wait until the people were ready to be led. And that epiphany, like any change, was dramatically difficult for people to accept.
So difficult was the subject that Lincoln had to walk a fine line between the Abolitionists who demanded an end to slavery and the great majority of people who did not see the need. At the beginning, he used the Constitution for political cover, justifying the war on the basis of the compact agreed upon by all the States and dodging the morality of the slavery question by referring to its Constitutional roots and his obligation as Chief Executive to uphold the Constitution. He had faith that, eventually, as the war deepened, public opinion would come around to match his own, and he was right.
The President labored for more than a year over the words and timing of his Emancipation Proclamation. He received good advice from his cabinet and followed it. Surprising as it may seem, public reaction was mixed–some said it went too far, others not far enough. Frederick Douglass said that Lincoln didn’t free any slaves, that he had no power to free slaves in the Southern states; that the Northern states had no slaves; and that he exempted the border states of Missouri, Kentucky, Delaware and Maryland for fear of alienating those citizens to the Union cause.
In the end, Mr Lincoln got his way. Congress passed the 13th Amendment outlawing slavery in 1865, just before the end of the war.
Lincoln’s funeral train carried him from Washington back to Springfield starting April 21st and finishing May 3rd, 1865. The route covered over 1,700 miles and stopped for twelve major funeral processions in different cities. The trip took fifteen days. By the time it was over Lincoln was seen by more people as a dead president than he had been as a live candidate.
We walked through an exhibit exploring the question, "Was Mary Todd Lincoln Insane?" Mary Todd’s mother died when she was six and her father immediately married a stepmother who favored her own children over Mr. Todd’s.
Her second son, Eddie, died when he was three. Her third son, Willie, died when he was twelve. Her husband was assassinated as he sat beside her at Ford’s Theater on the happiest day of their lives. Her fourth son, Tad, died as they returned from Europe after being forced out of Germany by the 1870 Franco-Prussian War.
She was vilified by the American press during her tenure as First Lady for faults that they found with her behavior, never paying attention to the improvements she made to the White House or to Washington society.
When she exhibited inappropriate and dangerous behavior to herself, her first son Robert took her to court to protect her by having her declared insane so that he could place her into a private institution. After four months, she made her way out of the institution and tried to regain her physical and mental health in Europe. She became physically incapacitated and returned to the United States to live with her sister until she died.
Ryan picked us up after lunch to drive us back to Toyota where we had the Sienna serviced. Ryan was excited that we were from California because it is his dream to move to California. It is also his dream to have a house in Colorado where he can look out the back window at trees.
Ryan asked if we had ever been to Orange County because he heard that all the roofs in Orange County are the same color. I told him I believed that is true in Irvine but I did not know about the rest of Orange County.
Ryan asked if it is legal to run neon car lights in California. He said that you can install different colored neon lights underneath your car frame, red, green, yellow, any color you want, but if you light them up while driving in Illinois, you get a ticket. He heard that in exotic states like California and Texas you can drive with your neon lights on. I confessed ignorance about this issue.
Ryan told us that he had a car wreck recently when he was driving his car at 140 mph and a truck pulled out in front of him and he hit the back and flew off the road and totaled his car. He thinks he won’t do that again, and especially when he is driving customers to the Toyota dealership. I surmised that he must have been wearing his seat belt when he flew his car into the bayou since he had no bandages or casts, or none that we could see.
After retrieving our van, we went to Lincoln’s house on Jackson. The National Park Service operates the house and still honors Robert Todd Lincoln’s stipulation that the public should never be charged a fee to visit the house. NPS has purchased and refurbished neighborhood houses to represent the view that Lincoln would have had of his neighbors in 1860.
Springfield is full of Lincoln ghosts. His presence is everywhere. A few blocks from the residence is the Lincoln-Herndon Law Office, across the street from the Capitol building. Lincoln spent a lot of time in the building, as an elected representative of the people, as a paid employee of the State and as a barrister practicing before the State Supreme Court. He ran his campaign for the Republican Presidential nomination from the Governor’s reception room on the second floor. He debated Stephen Douglas in the house chamber and there gave the speech that made him a national figure in 1858, that a house divided against itself cannot stand.
And, in the end, he returned to Springfield and to the Capitol building. During the 24-hour period when Lincoln lay in state at the Springfield Capitol building, the guards counted 75,000 visitors and they estimated that another 25,000 waiting in line at the end of the viewing period. This was at a time when the population of Springfield was 16,000.
Who is buried in Lincoln’s Tomb? We drove to the Oak Ridge Cemetery to find out. It was closed for the day, but we already knew the answer–Abraham, Mary, Eddie, Willie and Tad. Their eldest son, Robert Todd Lincoln, is buried in Chicago, where he made his career and his fortune.
Robert Todd Lincoln Beckwith, born in 1904, died without issue on December 25, 1985, the last living Lincoln descendant, thus ending the Lincoln line.

New York and Ohio and Illinois

2008-03-02T16:24:00.001-08:00

October 15, 2007
Monday
We drove to Watkins Glen State Park, in Watkins Glen at the foot of Seneca Lake in the Finger Lakes district of New York. Watkins Glen is a 1 ½ mile gorge cut through limestone by Glen Creek over the course of 12,000 years.
Morvalden Ells started charging visitors to walk through the gorge in 1836. The government of New York resented private encroachment on public enjoyment and took over the attraction in 1906.
The gorge rises 500 feet during the course of its ascent on 800 stone stair steps. Gail and I walked about a half mile, perhaps 200 stair steps, and, deciding that discretion is the better part of valor, valorously returned to the park and had a picnic lunch on a bench beside Glen Creek.
We drove up the east side of Seneca Lake and visited wineries, seduced occasionally by signs saying that local wines had won gold medals. We were fooled twice, then bypassed the rest until we arrived at Lamoreaux Landing, which we knew from a previous visit produces superior wines.
We finally rolled into Geneva and checked into our hotel there, in spite of road work that reduced the entry to a graveled street leading to an iron plated ramp into the driveway next to a transient bus station.
Tuesday
We drove from Geneva to North Canton, Ohio. We arrived at Harry London Chocolate, home of the Chocolate Hall of Fame, in time for the 2:00 tour and found out that 1-800-FLOWERS now owns Harry London.
We paid three dollars for the tour and received a two dollar discount in the candy store afterward, a solid blow for capitalism.
Afterward we found our hotel in Canton, checked in and prepared for a long drive the next day, into a new time zone.
Wednesday
We drove to Springfield, Illinois, stopping for gasoline in Rantoul, former home of Chanute Air Force Base where I spent my 21st birthday and corresponded with my future bride, Gail.
As we drove through town, we passed a brick building that displayed two signs, "Cold Beer" and "Open for Breakfast." A fantastic combination.
We checked into the Statehouse Clarion and the desk clerk gave us certificates for free drinks at their bar. That was a nice treat, to show their appreciation for all the trouble we went to to arrive in Springfield.
After cocktails, we ordered Pizza Surprise from Papa John’s for room delivery and that was the end of our day.

Where It All Began

2008-03-02T16:16:00.000-08:00

October 14, 2007
Sunday
An 1868 employment ad displayed in the Hall of Fame said, "Notice to First Basemen–the National Club of Washington are looking for a first baseman about here. They have been to Brooklyn, but they were not successful in obtaining one. Terms–First rate position in the Treasury Department: must work in the Department until three o’clock, and then practice at base ball until dark. ‘No Irish Need Apply.’"
Cooperstown was founded by and named after Judge William Cooper, the father of author James Fenimore Cooper. The Village of Cooperstown was established in 1786 and incorporated as the "Village of Otsego" on April 3, 1807; the name was legally changed to "Village of Cooperstown" in 1812.
Baseball is the name of the game in Cooperstown. The streets are lined with souvenir shops, baseball card shops, a wax museum, DiMaggio’s hot dog stand, The National Pastime, Cooperstown Cards and the Where It All Began Bat Company.
Gail and I were first in line at 9:00 to enter the hallowed halls of the National Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum.
The Special Baseball Commission, in 1908, after three years of studying the matter, stated that Abner Doubleday invented baseball in Cooperstown in 1839. This was based partially on a letter from Abner Graves, who claimed to be present when Abner Doubleday invented the game 70 years earlier.
In 1934 an antique baseball was found in an attic in a trunk believed to have belonged to Abner Graves. This became known as the Doubleday Baseball and was put on exhibit in Cooperstown.
In 1936, Ty Cobb received more votes than Walter Johnson, Christy Mathewson, Honus Wagner and Babe Ruth to lead the first class of inductees into the Baseball Hall of Fame.
The National Baseball Museum opened its doors in 1938 and was dedicated in 1939. By that time 25 members had been elected to the Hall of Fame. The eleven still living traveled to Cooperstown to attend the dedication.
In an exhibit entitled "3,000/3,000 Club," we discovered that Rogers Hornsby, Babe Ruth and Ted Williams did not hit 3,000 career base hits. Cy Young, Christy Mathewson and Warren Spahn did not throw 3,000 career strikeouts.
Twenty-seven men have hit 3,000 or more base hits. Fifteen pitchers have struck out 3,000 or more batters.
Heading the list of hitters is Pete Rose with 4,256; second is Ty Cobb at 4,191.
Nolan Ryan has 5,714 strikeouts, more than a thousand more than second-place Roger Clemens.
Every team has retired uniform number 42 in honor of Jackie Robinson.
As my friend Wayne Wegner probably knows, David Wells and Don Larsen, who have pitched the Yankees’ only two perfect games, both attended Point Loma High School in San Diego.
The official team histories say that the Atlanta Braves were founded in 1871 as the Boston Red Stockings, making them the oldest major league baseball team. I thought the Cincinnati Red Legs were the oldest team but evidently I was mistaken so I checked Google.
According to Google, the Cincinnati Red Stockings were America’s first professional baseball team, beginning March 15, 1869. After an undefeated season, 65-0, and going on to win 130 consecutive games, they finally lost to the Brooklyn Atlantics in 1870. Cincinnati fans immediately stopped coming to their games (I thought New York was tough) and the team moved to Boston where they became the Boston Red Stockings in 1871. Cincinnati got another team in 1882, also named the Red Stockings and currently known as the Reds.
So that’s the rest of the story. You guess which team came first.
After spending the morning at the Hall of Fame, we visited the Ommegang Brewery and tasted Belgian ales. They were good.
Then we drove to the Cooperstown Brewery and tasted American ales. They were also good.
Back at the Tunnicliff Inn, we met Frank, the owner, in the lobby and chatted with him a while. The inn was built in 1802 and does not have a level surface. We set our suitcases in the center of our room on the night that we checked in and watched them slowly roll to the far wall. Frank bought the place in 1992. He says his next project is to upgrade the furniture.
Downstairs, below ground level, is the Pit, a lively restaurant that attracts local families and serves beer by the pitcher and beef by the pound.
After dinner, we went to our room, watched our suitcases roll and prepared for bed.

The Really Rich and Famous

2008-03-02T16:04:00.000-08:00

October 12, 2007
Friday
Samuel Ward McAllister originated the "400" as a reflection of the capacity of Mrs Astor’s ballroom, which accommodated the "400 people in New York who really mattered." McAllister’s private mission was to be New York’s tastemaker, as part of his lifelong desire for personal recognition. He is considered to be the one person largely responsible for turning the seaside resort of Newport into a destination for the status-seeking rich families of the Gilded Age.
The "400" still exists as a social benchmark according to people who think they know.
We began our day with a van tour of Newport. Our tour guide, Mary, told us that lots of the houses are really old. Doris Duke refurbished about 200 of them in the 50s and they are rented to people who can afford them.
Mary took us on Bellevue Avenue, Ochre Point and Ocean Drive where lots of rich and famous people still live. We passed a mansion owned by Merrill Lynch IV, whom we help to support, and a mansion owned by John Holland, CEO of Fruit of the Loom, who supports us.
I took a photo of a lighthouse that Caroline Kennedy owns. It is on the Auchincloss estate that she inherited from her mother.
After the van tour, we drove back to Bellevue and toured a few of the old estates that are open to the public under ownership of the Preservation Society of Newport County.
The Breakers was built by Richard Morris Hunt for Cornelius Vanderbilt II, grandson of the Commodore, and finished in 1895. It is considered to be the quintessential representative of Newport Society of the Gilded Age. It is 65,000 square feet and 70 rooms, though more than half of the rooms were servants’ residence and off limits to the family.
Cornelius’ daughter Gladys sold the building to the Preservation Society but the family still owns the furnishings and her grandchildren still spend summers occupying the third floor, which is not open to visitors.
Rosecliff was built by Stanford White for Theresa Fair Oelrichs, daughter of one of the four partners in the Comstock Lode. It is used a lot for movies and you can get married there if you want. A heart-shaped grand stairway is a signature backdrop of the building.
Marble House is another of Richard Morris Hunt’s works (as is Biltmore in North Carolina) built for Cornelius’ little brother, William, which he gave to his wife Alva for her 39th birthday. The Vanderbilts spent $11 million to build the house, $7 million for 500,000 cubic feet of marble. The ballroom walls and ceiling are entirely covered with 22 karat gold leaf.
Alva divorced William four years after receiving this gift, married Oliver Hazzard Perry Belmont and moved down the street. She used Marble House as a storage shed for her art pieces and she did her laundry there.
The Astors’ Beechwood Mansion is listed as "the place where American Society began," ruled by Caroline Webster Schermerhorn Astor who married the brother of John Jacob Astor III and assumed the title "The Mrs Astor" upon the death of her sister-in-law. This mansion is still privately owned and our tour was led by costumed actors who pretended that we had arrived for a party in 1925. They showed us the house and gave us some history of the family, some of "the dirt."
They introduced us to Cole Porter and his wife, and remarked on their humility, traveling with only two servants. They also noted that the family was staying longer in Newport than the normal season, which used to end September 1st. The reason was that Rhode Island did not agree with the provisions of the Volstead Amendment and took pains to not enforce Prohibition.
We ended the day on that sober note and returned to our hotel for cocktails and dinner.
Saturday
We visited the fourth estate on our package ticket, the Elms, constructed in 1901 by Edward Berwind, who, in spite of my never having heard of him, in 1900 was considered to be "one of the 59 men who ruled America." This made him an important member of Newport’s summer society, though certainly not on an equal footing with Mrs Astor.
A carriage house and stables on the edge of the property were converted to a garage when the Berwinds began using automobiles. The head coachmen became the family driver but he never learned how to back up so they installed a large turntable in the garage.
On our way out of town, we stopped at Green Animals Topiary and Gail toured the manicured gardens while I read a newspaper. Then we drove through Providence and across the Adirondacks to Cooperstown.

Storm Front

2008-03-02T15:55:00.001-08:00

October 10, 2007
Wednesday
After spending the night in Hyannis, we caught the 0930 ferry to Nantucket, where Billy Joel wrote about modern island life,

"I'm on the Downeaster "Alexa"

And I'm cruising through Long Island Sound

I have charted a course to the Vineyard

But tonight I am Nantucket bound

We took on diesel back in Montauk yesterday

And left this morning from the bell in Gardner's Bay

Like all the locals here I've had to sell my home

Too proud to leave I worked my fingers to the bone

So I could own my Downeaster "Alexa"

And I go where the ocean is deep

There are giants out there in the canyons

And a good captain can't fall asleep

I've got bills to pay and children who need clothes

I know there's fish out there but where God only knows

They say these waters aren't what they used to be

But I've got people back on land who count on me

So if you see my Downeaster "Alexa"

And if you work with the rod and the reel

Tell my wife I am trolling Atlantis

And I still have my hands on the wheel

Now I drive my Downeaster "Alexa"

More and more miles from shore every year

Since they told me I can't sell no stripers

And there's no luck in swordfishing here

I was a bayman like my father was before

Can't make a living as a bayman anymore

There ain't much future for a man who works the sea

But there ain't no island left for islanders like me"

As we crossed the Sound, a man approached Gail and gave her a package of post cards, saying, "I saw you were writing cards and thought you’d like some of mine." They were beautiful photographs of Nantucket and each one credited Thomas P. Benincas Jr.
We went to the table where Tom was sitting and thanked him and he introduced his wife Mary. They work at Yale and spend holidays on Nantucket where he pursues his real passion, photography. They were on their way over for a ten day stay in a rented house.
The MV Eagle docked at 10:30 and we dragged our bags to Seven Sea B&B (the address is 7 Sea Street, get it?)
Gail of Gail’s Tours picked us up at 1:00, after we had lunch at the Brotherhood of Thieves.
Gail said she is sixth generation on Nantucket. She took us first out to Brant Point and showed us the summer home of the heiress of the Heinz family fortune, who shares occasional residence with her current husband.
Down the street is the efficient Gilbreth house where twelve children learned the Morse code while sitting on the toilet. (If you don’t get this, just ask.)
Most of the houses on Nantucket look alike, which is done on purpose. A local mantra is "Gut fish, not houses," as an effort is made to preserve the gray, shingle-sided homes built by the whalers who settled here in the 1800s.
The oldest surviving house was built in 1686 by Tristram Coffin for his grandson Jethro. The Cabot Lodges have a home here as does Tommy Hilfiger. John Steinbeck wrote East of Eden in a house named Eden East on the south shore.
We went by Sankaty Lighthouse which was jacked up and moved last week away from the eroding cliff. Lots of houses are going through the same process as noreasters tear away the shoreline. Gail also showed us one of the many cranberry bogs. The sprayed bogs are full of cranberries. The organic bogs are choked with weeds.
After the tour, we wandered around the downtown shopping area and out onto the wharves. We had trouble finding shot glasses and T shirts amongst the shops that cater more to people who buy Peter Beaton hats and Nantucket Looms cashmere sweaters.
We had dinner at Rose and Crown Grog Shop, two for one entrées and home of the Goombay Smash, "fruit juices and lots and lots of rum." I also sampled Nantucket’s Cisco Brewery’s Whale Tail Pale Ale.
Thursday
Matthew Parker served us a healthy breakfast at Seven Sea and we caught the MV Iyannough back to Hyannis. The captain pronounced the name several times but I never did get it.
We drove to Sandwich, the oldest village on Cape Cod, through a neighborhood signed "Slow Children" and "Blind Drivers," not a good combination.
At the Heritage Museum and Gardens, we toured the Cape Cod Baseball League Hall of Fame.
The league was founded in 1885 for college players. Of 20,000 applicants each year, 300 are chosen to play among the ten teams. They play for no salary and must provide their own housing, food, transportation and find part-time work. They are required to show up at the ball park every morning at 7:30 and to be in their own beds at 11 pm. The league practices no tolerance for misdeeds.
Local people take them in and mentor them and care for them and businesses are glad to provide employment.
One-third of major league players who played in college went through the Cape Cod League, about 200 of today’s players. One in six Cape veterans make the big show. Nomar Garciaparra, Will Clark, Thurman Munson, Frank Thomas, Robin Ventura, and Carlos Pe a played for such teams as the Orleans Cardinals, Chatham Athletics, Brewster Whitecaps and the Cotuit Kettleers.
Our host, Joe Star, was an Iwo Jima veteran and was making plans to attend a reunion with five other survivors next year.
Also on the grounds of the Gardens was an exhibit entitled "A Short Life and a Merry One, Pirates of New England," whose title was taken from a quotation by Captain Bartholomew Roberts in 1721, "In an honest Service, says he, there is thin Commons, low Wages and hard Labour; in this, Plenty and Satiety, Pleasure and Ease, Liberty and Power; and who would not ballance Creditor on this Side, when all the Hazard that is run for it, at worst, is only a sower Look or two at Choaking. No, a merry Life and a short one, shall be my Motto."
We had lunch at Daniel Webster Inn and drove to Rhode Island, a short drive but a merry one.

Life On The Island

2008-02-21T17:13:00.000-08:00

Monday
We drove to Falmouth, birthplace of Katherine Lee Bates who wrote America the Beautiful on Pikes Peak, and found the ferry terminal for Martha’s Vineyard. We rode the MV Nantucket across the sound and docked at Oak Bluffs just after 10:00.
After dropping our luggage at the Madison Inn, we took a bus tour of the island. The first celebrity name drop was Peter Norton at 87 Ocean Avenue, a house renovated in the 90s by Bob Vila and featured on his show.
Steven Spielberg filmed almost all of Jaws on Martha’s Vineyard, in Edgartown. This was the home of the island’s whale ship captains in the 1800s. Foremost among them was Valentine Pease, who once took Herman Melville out on a voyage.
Vincent House is the oldest on the island, built in 1672.
The permanent population of Martha’s Vineyard is 16,000 and it grows to 130,000 in the summer. The crush of people is so dense that cruise ships are forbidden to dock in July and August. A lot of the visitors are day trippers, however, and disappear at a quarter to five when the last ferry leaves.
MV sits atop a natural aquifer and has 150 fresh water springs and creeks that are replenished by rainfall. Most of the island, however, is considered dry–Edgartown and Oak Bluffs are the only towns that permit liquor sales. Restaurants in the other villages are BYOB.
The west side, "up island," is mostly agricultural. Don’t think, though, that you can just come in and buy land and start farming. David McCulloch, Walter Cronkite and Carly Simon are some of the people who can afford to buy Martha’s Vineyard farms.
Under Massachusetts law, beachfront property ownership is recognized to the low tide line so most of the Vineyard’s beaches are off limits to the public. Of 120 miles of coast line, more than 100 are privately owned.
After the tour, we walked around Oak Bluffs in and out of gift shops. Most were fixing to close for the season so they had specials on shot glasses and coffee cups and you could get a T shirt for two dollars.
We had dinner at Sharky’s and curled up in our bed afterwards listening to rain drops on the roof.
Tuesday
A 7:00 bus took us to Vineyard Haven where we boarded the trash boat, an unscheduled freighter that provides the earliest possible ride back to the mainland. We shared the boat with a garbage truck and a livestock trailer that was full of angry bull.
We chatted with a golf pro who manages a country club on the island whose membership fee is $350,000. He was on his way to his other job in West Palm Beach where he works seven months of the year.
We spent the rest of the day on Cape Cod driving to Provincetown, the first landing point of the Pilgrims. Someone has erected a 252-foot Pilgrim Memorial tower on a hill in the middle of town. I circled the parking lot and took a picture without having to get out of the car.
We stopped at the Cape Cod Lighthouse in Truro. It was jacked up and moved in 1996 to get back from the eroding cliff but it is still in Truro.

Down East

2008-02-21T16:58:00.000-08:00

October 6, 2007
Saturday
We drove away from Bar Harbor hugging the coast all the way to New Brunswick. It was our wish to visit Campobello Island and, yes, it is in Canada. We did not anticipate that when we restocked our traveling wine cellar in Bar Harbor.
A Canadian Customs officer gave us a stern lecture about transporting alcohol across the border and let us go "this time."
At the Roosevelt Campobello International Park Edmund S. Muskie Visitor Center, we discovered that the island was named after the benefactor who gave it to Captain Owen, whose name was Lord William Camp(o)bell(o). Get it?
James and Sara Roosevelt brought their one-year old son, Franklin, to Campobello for the first time in 1883. James and Sara purchased four acres of land and built a three-story cottage in 1884. From that year until 1921, Franklin spent every summer on the island, sailing, hiking and picnicking.
In 1909, Sara Roosevelt purchased a neighbor’s 21-room cottage (you need lots of rooms when you have five children and six servants) and gave it to Franklin and Eleanor as a wedding gift. True to her character, she retained title to their home until she died in 1941.
It was on Campobello that Franklin contracted polio in 1921 and, after that, he visited the island only three more times during his life–in 1933, 1936 and 1939.
We drove from the park to the north end of the island. The tide was out so I was able to cross an exposed causeway and walk to the East Quoddy Lighthouse. Gail stayed at the picnic area and watched a Minke whale that the visitor center hostesses told us had been trapped for three days inside a fish pen.
Fishermen had enclosed an area with netting in order to hatch and raise bait fish. We noticed that the pen had a large opening to the sea that the whale was ignoring in favor of diving, sounding, cavorting and, perhaps, eating.
Returning across the International Friendship Bridge, we met a lady at U.S. Customs who had us open all the doors of the van so she could poke around inside. She became highly agitated at my pill dispenser and ordered us pull over for a more thorough search by a colleague. She threw a brochure into the car as I started the engine that she said would explain to me what I had done wrong.
It turned out that I needed to produce original prescription bottles. After I did that, everyone calmed down.
I’m glad that nobody found the pepper spray that I forgot we had in the console.
Sunday
We found out that LL Bean in Freeport never closes, staying open 24/365. At ten o’clock on a Sunday morning we could not find a parking space . We eventually parked a couple of blocks away and walked to the Flagship Store, past the Fishing and Hunting Store and the Hiking and Biking and Kayaking Store.
We found a few things to buy, stood in line to pay, and got out of there.
We drove through Kennebunkport at noon. The streets were thronged with people enjoying the great weather.
At the Lighthouse Depot in Wells, we found three buildings full of lighthouse stuff that we did not buy.
We watched baseball playoffs after supper. People around here are crazy about the Red Sox. I wish them well.

The Maine Thing

2008-02-21T16:49:00.001-08:00

October 4, 2007
Thursday
We awakened to a deep-throated fog horn and the sound of water lapping on the shore beneath our window. Gail opened the door open and lit the fireplace and we watched ghostly boats bobbing in the bay.
After breakfast in the Reading Room (cinnamon apple crepes and lobster and havarti cheese omelet), we walked to Main Street and bought souvenirs and USA postage stamps. Then it was time for lunch so we got a lobster roll at Bubba’s and carried it back to the hotel and ate at a picnic table overlooking the water.
Mrs Davis needed dessert so we went to Ben and Bill’s, the original home of Bar Harbor’s lobster ice cream, for a cone of pumpkin pie and chocolate cherry chip.
At 4:00 we walked the Shore Path to the end and back, then had cocktails in our room and dressed for dinner.
The chef’s special dish in the Reading Room was lobster pie, so what were we going to do? At least he did not offer us lobster ice cream for dessert.
Friday
After another Reading Room breakfast, we took a 2 ½ hour bus tour of Acadia National Park, driven by Heather, who once worked at Anacapa Island National Park and even became pregnant and delivered her first child there.
Mount Desert Island is the third largest island off the each coast, after Long Island and Martha’s Vineyard. Locals pronounce it "Dessert" to mimic the French accent of Samuel de Champlain who named the island in 1604.
Verrazano wrote about these lands in the 1500s and compared them to the Acadian lands of Greece. That’s what Heather told us. I never heard of the Acadian lands of Greece and all I know of Verrazano is that he was both Strait and Narrow. (A little geography humor.)
We drove first to the summit of Cadillac Mountain, 1,530 feet high, arising straight from the water, the highest such rising north of Buenos Aires, according to Heather. Cadillac Mountain is the first place in the United States that the rising sun lights every morning, according to Heather.
Heather noted that a gull that flies over the sea is called a sea gull and a gull that flies over the bay is called a bay gull.
We looked down from the summit of Cadillac Mountain onto a cruise ship that arrived in the night and disgorged this morning 2,600 tennis-shoed, gray-haired geezers onto Bay Harbor’s sidewalks.
Heather told us Bar Harbor is named after the sand bar that is exposed at low tide and connects the town to Bar Island. You can walk across when the tide is out, spend some time and walk back. If you spend too much time, though, you have to wait six hours for the next low tide. Heather said it’s a great place to take a date.
Somes Sound is the only fjord on the east coast, that is, it has cliffs both above and below water level. It almost bisects the island.
A wildfire in 1947 burned a third of the island down to mineral soil and destroyed many summer homes. Birch, beech and maple trees are the pioneer species that have grown back since then. Eventually they will provide enough shade to promote the growth of spruce and fir, which is Maine’s climax forest, according to Heather. When they grow high enough, the hardwood trees will die because they are shade-intolerant. Eventually the spruce and firs will grow so thickly that their lower branches will die and become kindling for the next wildfire.
Rudolph Bruno built the High Seas, the only mansion that survived the 1947 fire. His childhood sweetheart in Germany agreed to marry him on three conditions–that he buy her a large diamond, build her a mansion on Mount Desert Island and give her a first-class ticket on the world’s most luxurious cruise ship, scheduled to sail across the Atlantic in 1912.
We stopped next at Thunder Hole, just a murmur today because the swells were small. The Labrador Current protects Maine from hurricanes. Cold water robs them of their energy but the coast is still hammered by giant swells during the season.
Heather told us about the many miles of carriage roads the John D Rockefeller Jr built to preserve the carriage industry on the island after automobiles began to encroach at the beginning of the 20th Century. As we passed the aromatic stable, she was reminded of an old song, "She was only the jockey’s daughter but all of the horsemen knew ‘er."
John D. Rockefeller Jr came here in July, 1908, and a month later his son, Nelson, was born on the Shore Path near the Bar Harbor Inn.
It was interesting to me that the original John D. and Cornelius Vanderbilt and their friends built summer homes off the South Carolina coast, on Jekyll Island, and their children went north for their summer homes, to Newport and Maine.
Jordan House was built in 1845 and is today the only restaurant in the National Park. It is also a starting point for many of the island’s trails and welcomes dogs to its outdoor tables on the lawn overlooking Jordan Pond. I guess anyone is welcome as long as they can pay the tab.
Jackson Laboratory is the number one employer in Hancock County and supplies three million mice a year to experimental laboratories all over the world. The lab is a pioneer in genetic research.
Heather told us that most of the town closes down for the winter after tourists stop coming here. Only a few businesses stay open–a motel, a bar, the supermarket and the one-hour photo shop.
After the tour, we went to The Thirsty Whale and had a beer and chatted with a young man who makes racing shells and kayaks that will be used in the Beijing Olympic games.
Back to our room, we dressed for dinner and went to the Terrace Grille for a Maine Lobster Bake. We expected to see Robert Goulet any minute, singing about June Busting Out All Over with a chorus of people clapping and throwing seaweed on the fire, but it was just us and a bunch of hotel guests sitting beside the water and feasting on fish chowder, mussels, clams, corn, potatoes, lobster and blueberry pie.

New Scotland

2008-02-21T15:57:00.000-08:00

September 30, 2007
Sunday
We returned to Wood Islands to catch the morning ferry to Nova Scotia. No bridge toll for us.
The ferry departed at 0930 and arrived in Caribou at 1045. We drove up the west coast to Glenora, the only single malt distillery in North America.
We had lunch in the pub room to the music of a fiddler and guitarist in a performance optimistically billed as a ceilidh, which is actually a rather more exuberant Gaelic social event that includes singing, dancing and storytelling.
We toured the distillery and learned why Scotch whisky is important here. Twenty-five per cent of Nova Scotians are of Scottish origin, a result of the Highland Clearances that took place after the Battle of Culloden in 1746.
At the end of the tour, our hostess poured a wee dram of Glenora Gold, modestly priced at $79 a bottle. It tasted a lot like Scotch.
From Glenora, we drove to North Sydney and watched the departure of the overnight ferry to Newfoundland, checked into our hotel and prepared for the next day.
Monday
We finally succumbed to the call of Tim Horton’s, a ubiquitous Canadian version of McDonalds, for coffee and breakfast. It was better than McDonalds.
From North Sydney we headed up the east coast of Cape Breton following the Cabot Trail, past Ocean View Cemetery (as if it makes a difference). We took a ferry across St Anne’s Bay for $5, sharing the deck with an 18-wheel truck and a utility van.
We stopped at Cabot Landing Picnic Park which commemorates John Cabot’s landing on the Canadian shore on 24 June 1497.
At 10:52 am, we stopped at the end of the road in Capstick, at the northern tip of Nova Scotia. This was as far from California as we could drive, 6,527 miles from home, and from now on, every mile would take us back toward the Central Coast.
We passed a hostel in Cape North that looked friendly enough.
Le Gabriel in Chéticamp served an Acadian lunch. The restaurant is named after a character in Longfellow’s Evangeline, a story about the expulsion of the French from Nova Scotia in 1759.
More than an expulsion, it was ethnic cleansing. The English loaded the French inhabitants onto ships, men and women on separate vessels, and relocated them all over the world. Many Acadians migrated down the east coast as far as Louisiana, which was Spanish territory at that time. Spanish authorities welcomed the Catholic French settlers.
Later, small groups were allowed to return and to settle in dispersed villages. Fourteen families who were originally expelled from Gran Pré founded Chéticamp.
Tuesday
We drove to Halifax to sample the wares of Alexander Keith Brewery on Lower Water Street.
Alexander Keith arrived in Halifax in 1820 with a brewmaster’s license and a dream. Three thousand English troops stationed in Nova Scotia were entitled to a ration of a gallon of beer a day and no one in the province at the time made a potable brew. Alexander Keith filled the void and built the foundation for a brewing dynasty that survives today.
Our guides were young ladies dressed in 1863 costume who played the parts of lasses of the period and regaled us with stories and songs of Halifax in the middle of the 19th Century.
We had lunch next door at the Red Stag Tavern, haddock and chips and pints of ale.
Wednesday
This was our last day in Canada, a sad day leavened only by thoughts of things to come. We hit Tim Horton’s for breakfast, then the Atlantic Superstore for maple syrup, in case we decide to make a maple syrup pie for Thanksgiving.
We used the last of our Canadian stamps that we bought in Calgary three weeks ago to send post cards home.
Then we drove to Peggy’s Cove, a tiny town (population 40) perched on granite boulders at the end of a peninsula. Peggy’s Cove lighthouse is the town’s post office. Three tour buses were parked next to the gift store and lots of their passengers were on the rocks taking pictures of everything in sight. Seven more buses drove in on the narrow, winding road as we were leaving.
Outside town was a memorial to Swiss Air Flight 111, honoring the 229 men, women and children who perished off shore on September 2, 1998.
We drove south to Yarmouth to catch the Cat, a twin-hulled ferry that traverses the Gulf of Maine three times a week. On the way, we passed a sign that warned of a "Hidden Driveway," but we didn’t see it.
At Yarmouth we pulled into Rudder’s Seafood Restaurant and Brewpub, two of our favorite things combined in one place.
After lunch we lined up to board the Cat, along with 129 other vehicles and 501 passengers. On the main deck, we found a duty-free gift shop, a pizza bar, a movie lounge, a casino and a sports lounge.
It took three hours to cross to the U.S. at 55 miles per hours and saved us 750 miles of driving.
We docked in Bar Harbor, Maine, at 6:20, and lined up for Customs. The two hundred bus passengers had to debark and walk through the Customs line individually.
At 7:00 p.m. we checked into the Bar Harbor Inn. I mentioned my cousin’s name and the desk clerk gave us complimentary tickets for a lobster bake.

A Princely Island

2008-02-21T15:33:00.000-08:00

Thursday
Prince Edward Island is 120 miles long and 459 feet high. Motorists can reach it either by ferry from Nova Scotia or by crossing the Confederation Bridge over Northumberland Strait. We drove across the bridge past a sign advising that the toll was $40.75 for two-axle passenger vehicles.
We pulled off at the end of the bridge to tour Souvenir Village and somehow missed the toll booth when we returned to the highway. I couldn’t find a way to turn the car around and we proceeded onto the island with heavy hearts and feelings of guilt.
Gail pointed out that all the vehicles we saw on the road had colored decals in the corner of their windshields and she convinced me that they were toll booth stickers displayed so the police will know who has unlawfully evaded payment. I decided that we should pull in to a police station to confess what we had done and pay the toll and penalty charges. But first we needed to have lunch.
We parked at Heritage Pub in Summerside and I checked the windshields of parked cars. The decals corroborated compliance with annual provincial vehicle inspection requirements.
After fish and chips and a beer, I no longer wanted to contact the police.
We went by The Bottle House Monument and stopped to use the washrooms. The lady behind the counter told us the history of the two bottle houses.
Back in 1994 she showed her dad a post card from a bottle house attraction that she visited. He said, I can do that, and spent the last four years of his life constructing two buildings out of bottles and concrete.
After he died, the family discovered that the railroad tie foundations that he used were expanding and contracting with the weather and causing the houses to crack. So the family de-constructed the buildings, rebuilt the foundations and put the bottles back together in the shape of buildings. They planted trees around them so they are no longer visible from the roadway, built a gift shop and went into business. Our hostess’ eldest son spent his summer vacation after college constructing a twelve-foot bottle out front out of bottles to catch the eye of passing tourists. It’s a little crooked and not quite symmetrical, but bottle-building probably wasn’t his major.
We actually did not buy tickets to pass through the trees and view the bottle buildings but I did buy a post card. I can show it to you if you want.
We drove from there to West Point Lighthouse and paid $2 to climb to the top. West Point is the tallest of the 82 lighthouses on the island, 72 steps, and the only one that provides overnight lodging inside the tower, two suites on the first level.
When we checked in to our hotel that night in Charlottetown, I overheard the desk clerk tell another guest that the bridge toll is assessed only one way, on cars as they leave the island.
Friday
We took a circular route around the north coast of the island on our way to Green Gables. Lucy Maud Montgomery’s Avonlea is actually Cavendish, the town where she lived when she wrote Anne of Green Gables. The house is a National Historic site restored to the period depicted in the novels.
We toured Green Gables, then the nearby site where Ms Montgomery lived with her grandparents. Eventually, we sorted the story out.
Lucy Maud Montgomery was brought to Cavendish by her father when she was an infant shortly after her mother died. Her father then went to live in Saskatchewan and remarried and Ms Montgomery was raised by his parents in Cavendish.
The house in the novels, Green Gables, was the home of cousins with whom Ms Montgomery did not get along but whom she visited on occasion. She made that house the home of Anne Shirley and her adopted family, Murilla and Matthew Cuthbert.
Ms Montgomery’s life paralleled Anne’s. She became a teacher at the local schoolhouse at age 16, cared for her grandmother until her death, then married the local preacher, raised a family and was eventually buried in the Cavendish cemetery with her mother and husband. Her descendants still live on the property in a modest home behind the gift shop.
We next stopped at the Cheese Lady, maker of fine Gouda, and bought some wheels of flavored cheese.
For our evening meal we drove to New Glasgow and bought tickets for a Lobster Supper, an island tradition that began as a church fund-raiser. We were served first chowder and steamed mussels, as much as we wanted, salads, then a lobster apiece and then our choice of pies and ice creams.
Meal prices were based on the size lobster we requested and the shellfish were put into the water to cook as soon as we sat down. Lisa, our server, told us that a 1-pound lobster takes 25 minutes to boil and a 4-pound Jumbo takes 55 minutes, which gives the diner more time to eat mussels and chowder while waiting.
Over on the wall they displayed Larry, preserved inside a shadow box, aged 23 years and weighing 19 pounds.
Saturday
On our way to the eastern shore of the island, following the Lighthouse Route, Gail found a roadside stand and bought a small pumpkin for our dashboard.
We stopped at Cooper’s Red and White Food Store for coffee. Gail did not find what she wanted and we were on our way out when Mrs Cooper asked if she could help. It turned out that she had a secret stash of cappuccino behind the counter and she fixed Gail up. She asked how we were liking PEI and she asked if we had tried the oysters. When I said we’d eaten a half dozen Malpeques, she invited us to the back where she shucked and handed me three fresh oysters from Belfast Bay. They were not fat, bland Pacific oysters. They exploded in the mouth with the wild flavor of the sea, a tang and a salty bite that almost made me weep with pleasure.
Point Prim Lighthouse was closed, locked and unattended. So was Wood Islands and so was the Cape Bear Lighthouse and Marconi Station. A sign told us that the radio operator at Cape Bear was the first person to hear distress signals from the Titanic as she foundered off the coast of Newfoundland in 1912.
At Panure Head, two young girls sold tickets and allowed us to climb 47 steps to the top of the lighthouse.
Last stop of the day was East Point.
At the eastern tip of PEI, three currents collide–Northumberland Strait, the St Lawrence River and the Atlantic Gulf Stream.
In 1882 HMS Phoenix was wrecked here and blame was attributed to the lighthouse location, a half mile inland.
That reminded me of a story about the battleship commander who was making his way through a thick fog. A light appeared dead ahead. He had his radioman send a message requesting that the other ship change course to avoid collision.
The response was negative.
The captain repeated, "I am a battleship, change course."
The replay came, "I cannot change course."
The captain repeated, "I am an admiral. Change course."
The reply came, "I am a lighthouse. Your call."
Gail asked at the gift shop why we were seeing so many for sale signs and houses that appeared to be empty.
The answer was that, for many, the older generation leaves their home and their children do not want to live on the farm. For others, it is the work.
Only fishers, farmers and medical workers can make an annual wage. Most other jobs are seasonal. Island services close in October and re-open in the spring.
Farming is a way of life that many young people are not willing to take up.
Fishing declines here as well as in the U.S. Japanese buyers pay fishermen $20 a pound for tuna but the season is short and the quota low.
Lobster fishers must make their annual income in May and June. This year the lobster season off the east end was bad and the lobster men licensed to fish there did not make their wages. Many of them have had to go to Alberta to work in the oil fields, but the word from there is that you should not go there unless you already have guaranteed housing or tent space in one of the oil camps. There is no housing available. And only skilled workers can afford to move there. Service employees will not make enough money to pay the high rent.

And Now For Something New

2008-02-14T17:20:00.000-08:00

September 25, 2007
Tuesday
We negotiated the streets of Quebec and boarded the ferry for a 9:00 crossing of the St Lawrence River.
At noon we crossed into New Brunswick and were treated to the changing colors of autumn leaves as we followed the St John River to Woodstock.
Imagine our surprise to discover a fourth time zone. The Maritime Provinces operate on Atlantic time, except for Newfoundland, which has its own unique time zone that is a half hour earlier than Atlantic. That means that a Dodgers home game begins at midnight in St John’s. I wonder if they have many Dodger fans there.
We stopped along the way in Great Falls to observe the great falls in the city center, but unfortunately they were a trickle. We find that many Canadian tourist attractions close down after Labor Day.
We washed the car in Woodstock and chatted with the attendant. He has been to Florida for baseball and "burns" to see Nashville and he thinks that President Bush is doing the right thing.
Wednesday
We were up early and on the road to get to St John in time to tour the Moosehead Brewery. We made it in time for what our guidebook listed as the 10:00 tour but were informed that they have not given public tours for two years because of international security requirements.
We drove to the Reversing Falls Gardens and observed the phenomenon of the twice daily tidal flow from the Bay of Fundy that causes the St John River to reverse itself. Jet skis hauled tourists up the reversing falls and spun water brodies and we applauded them.
Even the excitement of watching water flow palls eventually, however, and we paid our bill and began driving up the Bay of Fundy.
Five miles east of St Martins we paid to enter the Fundy Trail Parkway, a seven-mile system of auto, bicycle and hiking trails along the coastal cliff above the bay. Big Salmon River lies at the end of the Trail and we watched a movie at the Interpretive Center there.
Big Salmon River was a logging town during the first third of the 20th Century, owned by the Hearst family as a source of wood pulp for newsprint. Randolph Hearst left his initials in the bark of a birch tree and the Hearst Lodge is open for public tours.
We stopped at the St Martin Caves Restaurant for probably the best fish chowder in the universe. Our timing was impeccable, just as the last of six tour buses left. They served eight tour buses the day before as well as an stream of taxis transporting passengers from the three cruise ships moored in St John Harbour.
After visiting O My Cod! gift shop, we continued north and wound our way through Fundy National Park to the Cape Enrage Lighthouse, a lonely, desolate, windswept point of land occupied only by a stream of tourists.
From there we drove to Hopewell Rocks Visitor Centre, arriving 40 minutes after closing time. God’s tide, however, pays no attention to bureaucratic operating hours, and we found a large crowd of vehicles parked outside the gate as people gathered to take advantage of the 6:30 pm low tide.
We walked a half mile to a stairway down the cliff and I descended to the ocean floor to take photos of exposed sandstone pillars. Six hours later, the tide would bring the water’s surface to a level 43 feet above my head.

New France

2008-02-14T17:11:00.000-08:00

September 23, 2007
Sunday
Breakfast in our lobby every day was pastries, cereals, hard boiled eggs, cretons and cheddar doux. Cretons are small patties of pork paté. A day that begins with paté is going to be a good day.
François from Tour DuPont picked us up in the lobby to begin our City Tour. He told us that Quebec’s population is 700,000 and 95% are white, Catholic and speak French. One-third work for the government. They have a saying in Quebec–"I am Canadien, tax me. I am Québécois, tax me again."
They have snow from mid-November until the end of April. Pleasure boats moored in the yacht harbor must be taken from the water and parked on land each autumn. The St Lawrence river level fluctuates daily with the tide, from 12-22 feet even though Quebec is 400 miles from the Atlantic Ocean.
Samuel de Champlain was attracted to Quebec because it is the first place where the river narrows to less than one mile in width. Kebec is a native word meaning "narrows."
September 13, 1759, British General James Wolfe tired of lobbing cannon balls from Isle Royal into the city of Quebec and sneaked his forces up river where they landed on the 250-acre farm that belonged to Sir Abraham Martin, a Scot who married a Québécoise. The Marquis de Montcalm panicked when he saw the troops outside the walls of the Citadelle and sortied forth to attack. The Brits were regular Army with repeating firearms and the French were militia with single-shot rifles. Within 20 minutes, the issue was settled, though both generals lay dying on the battlefield. Thus is rendered the fate of nations.
After the city tour, we boarded a boat, the Louis Jolliet, named after someone who lived a long time ago, and cruised downriver to catch a sight of Isle Royal and Montmorency Fall, taller than Niagara but not as wide.
After disembarkation, we walked up Break-Neck stairs yet again and wandered about until we lit at Café Terrasse La Nouvelle for lunch. Gail had French onion soup and I had caribou stew. Our server sang a song about Rudolph as she served the stew.
We watched a street performer sing and play afterward at the UNESCO monument. He spoke in French and sang in English and shuffled in a circle with a drum on his back, a bell on his belt, a harmonica hanging before his face, all connected by cords attached to his feet and playing in rhythm to his shuffling gait. Then he asked for contributions from "rich Americans" but he asked in French so we ignored his plea and walked away.
We signed up for the 4:00 tour of Chateau Frontenac. The hotel was built in 1893 to accommodate railway traffic.
At the end of the19th Century, British Columbia asked to join the Dominion of Canada but the country required a trans-continental railway to make that practical. CPR built the railway but the cars of the time did not provide sleeping accommodations. The solution was to build hotels along the way for passengers to spend the nights during their travel across the country. The first was at Banff and the second was in Quebec.
The hotel was built originally with 170 rooms and has expanded over the years to 618.
In August of 1943, 2,000 guest reservations were cancelled without explanation. The reason was a meeting among Prime Ministers Mackenzie King, Winston Churchill and President Franklin Roosevelt in the Salon Rose to plan Operation Overlord.
After one of the meetings, a housekeeper picked up a folder that had been left lying on the table. It was a complete plan of the Normandy invasion. He turned the folder over to his supervisor and was given around-the-clock security until the operation was safely launched.
We toured one room, the Alfred Hitchcock Suite, named for the English film director who came here in 1952 to film I Confess. It is a two-level room with a circular staircase in the center and a secret passage out the back.
Monday
The old city of Quebec is built on a hill. Today we explored parts we had previously not seen. We walked across the hill to the Tourist Bureau where they had no information on the mural in Basse-Ville. The Musée du Fort was not operating its video presentation so we did not enter.
We walked down the hill toward the Fire Department (les pompiers) and shopped amongst the shops along the way. The fire fighters traded patches with us and went back to eating their lunch.
We walked around the base of the hill to Ville-Basse, up Break-Neck Stairs and back to the Frontenac for beers and snacks. Another late lunch at Aux Anciens Canadiens and back to the hotel to prepare for departure.

O! Canada

2008-02-14T17:03:00.000-08:00

September 21, 2007
Friday
Montreal newspapers announced this morning that the Loonie had achieved parity with the Greenback. Canadian economists would like to give the credit to their robust economy but admitted that their dollar’s rise probably has more to do with the actions of America’s young President than with the oil-rich petro-sands of northern Alberta.
We left Pembroke as early as we could after a hearty breakfast in the breakfast room of the EconoLodge.
We passed through Ottawa mid-morning and Montreal at noon. At 3:00 we checked into Hotel Champlain in Quebec. Our concierge, Stephen, a polyglot, recommended Pub Saint Alexandre for French onion soup, good food and good beers.
I knew that Bernard was a saint and Louis was a saint but this was our first experience with a sanctified Alexandre. Stephen’s prediction proved true. We had a lovely dinner of soup, nachos, Stella Artois and Guinness. We also scored free pilsner glasses for ordering bottles of Pilsner Urquell during Happy Hour, l’Heure Joyeux.
The streets were alive with Friday night celebration. We observed costumed performers on stilts and one wearing pogo springs. Adagio combat dancers and masked dancers performed on the sidewalks behind upturned chapeaux. The night was also a celebratory call to free the streets from automobiles. It was nice to walk the streets without interference from motor vehicles.
Saturday
After coffee and breakfast in the lobby, we hit the streets. First stop was Cathedral of the Holy Trinity, the oldest Anglican church in Quebec.
Then we took the funicular to Basse-Ville on the waterfront and walked down Petit-Champlain, the oldest street in North America. This is where Samuel de Champlain built a trading post on July 3, 1608, which he named Saint-Louis, not Saint Alexandre.
We stopped at Le Cochon Dingue for cafés au lait at a sidewalk table, then toured Maison Chevalier, a museum reconstruction of a 1752 merchant house. It demonstrated the changing concepts of privacy and leisure as wealth accrued to the middle class during the 18th Century. Dwellings expanded from two rooms, one for cooking and one for sleeping, to individual rooms dedicated to games, conversation, reading and separate sleeping quarters for children and adults. Imagine the luxury of a room where a person could sit alone and read or write at a desk.
We walked up Break-Neck stairs to Chateau Frontenac, a 618-room hotel built in 1893 that dominates the Québécois skyline. The building was unfortunately surrounded at the time of our visit by scaffolding as the hotel and the city prepare for next year’s 400th anniversary celebration. Our tour guide next day told us that construction is going on all over Quebec. Commuters never know from day to day what streets will be closed for renovation.
We went into the Chateau to the St Laurent Lounge and sat at a window and drank beers and observed Saturday afternoon sailboats dancing on the Saint Lawrence.
Our server, Sebastién, told us that Quebec goes to minus 30 degrees during the winter and the river freezes to one meter. Ice breakers keep it open for commerce. The city runs on electric heat because Quebec’s electric rates are the lowest in Canada. They operate two great hydroelectric dams in the north that supply power as far as New York.
We dined at 2:30 at Aux Anciens Canadiens, housed in the oldest surviving house of Quebec, built in 1677. Gail had salmon in puff pastry and I had Lac St Jean meat pie with pork, venison, elk and caribou. Dessert was maple syrup pie, tarte au syrop d’érable et cr me fraîche.
After lunch we walked to the Citadelle at the top of Cap Diamant, the fort that British general James Wolfe besieged and conquered in 1759, eventually resulting in the transfer of New France to England. The Citadel is currently home to the Royal 22e Regiment of the Canadian Armed Forces.
From there we returned to the Frontenac via the Governors Promenade, a boardwalk constructed on the edge of the cliff looking down on the Saint Lawrence.

Back In The USAA

2008-02-14T14:24:00.000-08:00

September 19, 2007
Wednesday
We arose early and drove 45 miles south to St Ignace to catch a morning ferry to Mackinac Island. The ferryman checked our luggage and directed us to a secure parking space and we boarded the 9:00 catamaran.
The boat took about ten minutes to cross the narrow neck of Lake Huron and we disembarked at the island’s main port with just a few other people who looked as if they were regular ferry commuters.
The local horse carriage concession persuaded the island government many years ago to ban automobiles on Mackinac so, instead of the noise and stench of gasoline engines, we were greeted by the sweet scent of horses and all of the things that one associates with horses.
The fire station was closed but a sign on the door directed us to Patrick Sinclair’s Irish Pub where three of the fire fighters work. Alas, they were out of patches to trade but did offer to sell us a $15 T shirt, "to benefit the department."
We took the island carriage tour and learned many things about Mackinac Island. Five hundred full-time residents live here. The largest employer is the Grand Hotel, open from May through October with 700 seasonal employees from all over the world. The Hotel owns 50-some buildings on the island that it uses for employee housing.
The Grand Hotel was built in 1887. Ground was broken April 1st of that year and the hotel opened for business July 10th.
We left the tour at noon and had lunch in the Tea Room of Fort Mackinac. The Tea Room is noted as having the best restaurant view in Michigan, looking down on the harbor and the hotel golf course.
From the fort we walked to the hotel and toured the stable, which houses a historic collection of carriages and buggies.
We checked in early and went to the verandah and sat for most of the afternoon writing post cards and reading the newspaper and observing Mackinac Strait.
After a while we walked down a stairway to the lawn and garden and to the Esther Williams pool. We chatted with a young lady sitting on the edge of the pool with legs dangling in the water. She was shivering and told us that they turn off the heat after Labor Day and the water temperature was 64 degrees.
After preparing for dinner, we went upstairs to the Cupola Bar, the highest point in the hotel, and had cocktails until it was time to eat. That could actually be any time. No reservations are required and there is no waiting. The dining room is easily large enough to accommodate all the guests at one time.
Our dinner was nice. We had five courses and did not finish our desserts, a fudge-covered pecan ice cream ball.
Afterward we took a demitasse of coffee onto the verandah and watched the half-moon play on the water with lights reflecting from the Mackinac Bridge. One of our dinner companions told us that water flows through the lakes at 5-6 knots headed for the St Lawrence River. We could see the current move in the moonlight.
Thursday
We called for luggage service at 7:15 and went to breakfast, crossing our fingers that our bags would be delivered to the correct ferry service at the right time and to the proper destination. A lot to hope for.
The breakfast menu was thorough. We ordered sparkling raspberry cider, melon berry Martinis, creamy white grits with maple butter, bacon and cheese omelet, a three-cheese quiche, smoked dill salmon, corned beef hash and sausage links.
After a brief sit on the verandah to enjoy sunlight sparkling on the strait, we walked into the village and toured a few more fudge shops before boarding the Arnold ferry. Our luggage was not on the luggage cart and the stevedore told us that it probably went over on the preceding ferry. We wanted to hear that.
We docked at 10:15 in St Ignace and found our luggage waiting. By 10:50 we were on our way back to Canada. The U.S. Customs line was backed way up halfway across the International Bridge but we waited only a few minutes to pass through Canadian Customs.
The trees in Ontario looked like glowing flames. It was hard to believe that we were still driving through Ontario after four days. It’s like driving from El Paso to Texarkana only prettier.
We finally arrived in Pembroke at 7:30 and showered and went to bed without supper.

Rhymes With...

2008-02-14T11:12:00.000-08:00

September 13, 2007
Thursday
We spent most of the day driving to Regina, stopping in Hanley to fill up the tank at Prairie View Gaz. We received a free loaf of bread for filling up and, when he saw our license plate, he threw in two cups of coffee at no charge.
I spent some time calculating and converting to find out how much we pay for gasoline. We spent $61.89 CAD for 56.83 litres and that converts to $4.00 American per gallon.
We were surprised to discover that changing time zones did not result in a change of time since Saskatchewan does not recognize daylight saving time.
Friday
We reported at 1000 hours to the RCMP Heritage Centre, training depot for the Royal Canadian Mounted Police.
RCMP has six requirements for a Mountie–Canadian citizen, 19 years of age, clean record, willing to serve anywhere in Canada, high school graduate and something else. They are no longer required to be able to ride a horse, be male, speak two languages or achieve a minimum height.
The government receives 6,000 applications annually and selects 2,500 recruits. Depot training lasts for six months and a class graduates every Monday.
The depot is located on 700 acres and used to be ten miles west of Regina. Most of the area is used for scenario training.
We toured exhibits in the Centre and watched a 30-minute movie, then walked to the parade ground to watch the daily Sergeant-Major’s parade. Traditionally this is the daily roll call used to account for those present and to identify deserters, whom the Sergeant-Major is responsible to find and punish.
After that, we went inside the chapel. It was built in 1873 and is the oldest building in Regina. It was originally a bar and sold beers two cents cheaper than the bars in town to try to keep recruits from straying off depot.
Next to the parade ground we paused to honor a cenotaph that burns with an eternal flame and displays divisional flags that honor 218 policemen who have lost their lives in performance of duty.
Saturday
Today was an all-day drive, relieved by a sighting of a herd of caribou two hours east of Regina.
We arrived in Winnipeg at what we thought was 2:45 pm but was actually 3:45 because Manitoba does recognize daylight saving time.
Sunday
We drove to The Forks, a park at the confluence of the Red and Assiniboine rivers, a place that was important to the trade of the First Nations and has since become important to the trade of Winnipeg.
First stop was the Sugar Mountain Express, an unrailed boxcar filled with candy displays. The Forks Market next door was more interesting–a combination farmers market, strip mall and swap meet, indoors in what used to be a railway station.
I bought an elk smokestack, a Slim Jim made of elk meat, and a Jim Morrison lapel button.
We walked along the river on a trail that Mrs Davis believed was not meant for tourists and eventually arrived at the Alexandre Avenue dock. There we boarded the River Queen for a scenic tour along the Red River.
We sat on the promenade deck next to a tableful of Red Hat ladies and cruised first upriver, then down river, then back to the dock, where the captain practiced landing until he got it right. Please, God, don’t give him an airplane.
Monday
We took a long travel day, up shortly after midnight and on the road to Marathon. We left Manitoba and watched a scarlet sun rise above the hills and lakes of Ontario, land of lakes, granite outcroppings and fall-tinted forests of birches and maples.
We crossed the boundary into the Eastern time zone, then the divide for the Atlantic watershed.
We checked in to the Marathon Travelodge at 4:30 after 606 miles, then drove into town to observe the pulp mill and the harbour. Our hostess, Nancy, sent us to Pebble Beach, where she said this year’s low lake level has exposed a strip of sand below the rocky beach.
We stopped by the town’s Curling club but the door was locked. Nancy said it is too early to ice the rink. During the winter they have several leagues playing and it’s lots of fun.
Tuesday
Nancy served breakfast in the dining room next morning. A restaurant is attached to the motel lobby but it is closed because she cannot get anyone to work as a cook.
She told us that Marathon was founded in the mid 1940s to serve the pulp mill and was originally a company town. Gold was discovered nearby in the 1980s, Canada’s largest strike, and the town continues to grow as companies invest in the mines, extracting also platinum and diamonds.
Nancy arranged for us to meet the Fire Chief downtown before we left and we traded patches with him.
A half hour along the highway, we passed the David Bell gold mine, located on Yellow Brick Road. We stopped at White River for coffee. White River claims the coldest temperature in Canada, 78 degrees Fahrenheit below zero.
We stopped at Fenton Lake in Lake Superior Provincial Park for a picnic and shared bread with a black-striped chipmunk.
Driving in Ontario required great patience. The highways we followed were two lanes and signed for 90 km/h and we stopped several times each day for road work.
We crossed St Mary’s river at 3:00 and re-entered the United States. Our Customs officer told us we won a special prize, we were the 100th vehicle since the last 100th vehicle so we were selected for random search. Two officers opened the back door, observed our haphazard arrangement of clothing, luggage and souvenirs, and waved us on.

Alberta Bound

2008-02-03T11:22:00.000-08:00

September 9, 2007
Sunday
On the road at 0840 headed north through the Blackfoot Nation. We saw a bear just outside Babb loping along a hillside toward a herd of cattle.
We crossed the Canadian border at Piegan and continued north to Calgary through beautiful rolling farm land.
After checking in at the Comfort Inn, we walked a few blocks looking for an ATM. We did not find any banking institutions but we did find Bongs and Such and the Erotic XX Boutique and, across the street from our motel, Hooters, "Hiring All Positions."
We ordered in pizza for supper and it came in what must be Canadian style, with a tub of melted garlic butter.
Monday
Next morning we drove to Fort Calgary. Dal, a retired Mountie docent, met us inside the door and treated us to an overview of the history of the Mounted Police and the western provinces.
After America’s Civil War, whiskey traders operated from Montana into southern Alberta dealing adulterated liquor to the First Natives and devastating Indian society. A climax came when a group of American traders massacred a village at Cypress Hills. The Canadian government reacted by creating a national police force, the Northwest Mounted Police, and sent a party of 300 men to Alberta under the command of Colonel James McLeod to establish order. They were deliberately dressed in red uniform coats to distinguish them from the United States cavalry which was widely mistrusted and despised by the indigenous population.
The Mounted Police established Fort Calgary in 1875 at the conjunction of the Bow and the Elbow rivers and named it after the ancestral home of Colonel McLeod, Calgary Bay on the western shore of the Isle of Mull in Scotland.
In 1904 King Edward VII granted the NWMP the privilege of calling themselves Royal and in 1920 they were appointed national police for all of Canada, changing their name to the Royal Canadian Mounted Police.
We walked through exhibits inside the visitor center that depicted life in Calgary between 1910 and 1930.
At 12:00 we drove downtown and found a parking place next to the Calgary Tower and took the elevator upstairs for lunch. The tower is 626 feet tall and was poured in one continuous cast over a period of 24 days. The highest total poured during a 24-hour period was 39 feet.
We had a nice lunch while the platform rotated and gave us views of the entire city and the Rocky Mountains to the west.
Calgary is bursting with construction activity, cranes working all over the city below us. Our waitress told us that Alberta is undergoing its third oil boom and buildings are going up everywhere to provide housing and services for an exploding population.
At 2:30 we drove to the Olympic Center, home of the 1988 Winter Olympics, and took a self-guided audio tour of the Hall of Fame/Museum, the luge training center, the bobsled start and the top of the 90 meter ski jump tower where Eddie the Eagle leaped to fame. To top it off, we rode the chair lift to the top of the ski slope and back down. Mountain bikers were also riding the lift and special chairs were fitted to take their bikes to the top for a ride down on a variety of challenging trails.
We drove to Costco after that and discovered new things. Prilosec over-the-counter requires a prescription in Canada. The coupons I received in the mail before we left home are not valid in Canada. Costco does not sell liquor or wine in Canada.
We found liquor across the street in a Co-op, behind a double set of barricaded doors in a seedy-looking building with few markings and frosted windows. It seems easier to buy dope.
Tuesday
We drove north to Edmonton and arrived at Fort Edmonton Park at 1:30 and signed up for the 2:00 guided wagon tour. Our wagon was pulled by Katie and Darden and we clop-clopped down three streets built to emulate three periods of Edmonton’s life–1885 when the population was 385; 1905 when the population had rocketed from 4,000 to 72,000 within a four-year period; and 1920.
We stopped at a fourth location, the Hudson Bay Fort and Native Encampment built to reflect its condition in 1846. Naomi told us about the fort and the Hudson Bay Company.
Beaver pelts were the currency in the Northwest, measured in "made" pelts, defined as a beaver fur captured in winter, no bullet holes, a rich brown color and at least 5 hands across, the trader’s hands.
HBC, incorporated in 1690, operated with the Cree and Ojibway natives in an arms-length businesslike way and never had to worry about hostile relations, to the point that natives could buy muskets if they produced the correct number of made pelts. The main trading commodity, however, was Hudson Bay point blankets, embroidered with lines that represented the price in made pelts.
After 1821, when HBC merged with rival French-owned North West Company, the combined conglomerate ruled 12% of the earth’s surface. Laborers signed five-year contracts to work for the company. Pelts were pressed into 90-pound bales and each employee was expected to transport two bales down river and across portages to company headquarters. By the time they retired, most workers were physically broken.
During their working lives, many took "country wives" and left a legacy of generations of "métis’" mixed-blood offspring, whom they generally abandoned when they returned to England, Scotland or France at the end of their contract periods.
For decades the beaver trade depended upon European fashion. Gentlemen wore hats made of beaver felt. Then, one evening, a British Royal wore a silk hat to dinner and the fur trade collapsed.
After Canada gained Dominion status in 1867, HBC was the largest private landowner but shortly gave up most of its holdings, 1.5 million square miles, to the new nation in exchange for 300,000 pounds sterling.
The area given up was known as Rupert’s Land, named after the first chairman of the HBC. It was defined in the company’s charter as all the land and streams that drained into Hudson’s Bay and comprised one-third of the area of Canada today.
On 1920 Street we passed Blatchford Field Hangar, the first aerodrome licensed in Canada and called "Gateway to the North." Wiley Post landed here during both of his circumnavigations.
Wednesday
Wednesday was Mall Day. Temperature at 10:00 was 45 degrees and the world’s largest mall was less than two miles away so we drove there.
It was fabulous. We started at Cinnzeo for coffee, a cinnamon roll and a free mini-twist. Their motto is "Drink coffee. Do stupid things faster with more energy."
As we sat and sipped, we read in the Edmonton Times that 250 Canadian soldiers tested positive last year for marijuana use and were not allowed to deploy to Afghanistan. Teach them a lesson.
We saw sea lions swimming in the Pirates of the Mall exhibition next to the NHL-sized ice skating rink next to Waterworld, an arena-sized swimming pool with breaking waves, a beach, a beach bar and three-story water slides.
At 2:00 we watched the sea lion show as they performed tricks just like Shamu, only smaller.
Afterward we went to Sherlock Holmes Pub on Bourbon Street for Stella Artois and Newcastle Brown, an Alberta-beef hamburger with Canadian back bacon and a shepherd pie, loaded with peas, just the way Mrs Davis likes it.
Our waitress told us that a movie just completed filming in the mall, Christmas in Wonderland, starring Patrick Swayze and Carmen Elektra. It is due to be released in November.
We went to the third level after lunch and watched 3:10 to Yuma, the third remake of Elmore Leonard’s 1953 short story.
The temperature in the parking lot at 6 pm was 47 degrees. It was a good decision to stay indoors all day.

Many Glacier

2008-02-02T17:39:00.000-08:00

September 13, 2007
Thursday
On our way out of town, we stopped at Brownie’s Bakery for real coffee and real muffins. We parked on Two Medicine Road and hiked a short distance to Running Eagle Fall, a beautiful torrent of water that cascades out of a cliff face.
At Two Medicine Lake we hiked a mile to Paradise Point and back.. As with everywhere we went in the park, we encountered groups of people standing still with binoculars glued to their eyes. Binoculars replace cell phones at the ubiquitous attachment in northern Montana.
We ran into Larry Perry at the General Store. He was driving the shuttle today after working almost twelve hours yesterday on the Red Bus. He said that GPI is short of drivers and he had only three days off in August.
Many Glacier Lodge would not let us check in until 3 pm so we had a picnic in the lobby. Gail got us upgraded to a lake view room at the appointed time. It was rather small and had twin beds but we worked that out. Every night when we went to bed, I threw my hat to Gail. Sometimes she threw it back. Sometimes she brought it back.
The bathrooms in the hotel were tiny and we found out later that they were originally closets. The hotel furnished community bathrooms for 6-7 rooms to share when it was built in 1915, at a time when indoor running water was considered a luxury.
Ranger Rick Mulligan put on a historic hotel tour at 4:00. James J. Hill, one of the owners of the Great Northern Railway, built Glacier Park Lodge in 1913. His son Louis built Many Glacier in 1915 and he loved hotels so much that he stepped down from his position with the railway to concentrate on his hotel business.
During World War I when European travel business was not doing so well, Louis Hill coined the phrase "See America First" and advertised Many Glacier Lodge as headquarters of the American Alps. He built the lodge in Swiss architectural style to enhance that theme.
As years went by and economic times changed, the domestic luxury travel business waned. When employees successfully fought off the great wildland fire of 1936, they cabled the Minneapolis headquarters of Great Northern that they had "saved the hotel." The one work reply was, "Why?"
Eventually the railway sold its Glacier Park holdings to the mayor of Tucson who formed Glacier Park Incorporated, the company that runs the concession today.
The hotel is midway through planned restoration as a National Historic Landmark but federal funds for the work have dried up during the past couple of years. So far the entire outside–roof, walls and foundation–has been restored or rehabilitated.
The last thing Rick pointed out was Swiftcurrent lake, right outside the windows of the lodge, and said that "In 1930 they raised the level of the lake by artificial means to make it look more natural."
We went to dinner afterward and ordered the signature meal of the lodge–cheese fondue–but they were out.
Ranger Rick put on another show at 8:00, Glacier’s Magnificent Mammals, and we attended that downstairs in the Lucerne Room. Rick broke the ice by asking how many people in the room had hiked that day, then how many had been out on the boat, then how many had mountain biked. He said he brought that up because it’s illegal to mountain bike on the trails in the national park. What a jokester.
Glacier National Park has 63 species of mammal, 64 if you count humans. Six species of weasel, three canines, including the grey wolf which has re-introduced itself into the park, three felines, and so on. Elk migrate through in spring and fall. The red fox, which may not even be native to North America, is the most widespread mammal on the continent. There was more, but that’s enough.
Friday
We boarded Chief Two Guns at 9:00 and boated across Swiftcurrent Lake. Ranger Bob Schuster was our hike. At the end of the lake, we docked and walked a quarter mile to the head of Josephine Lake where, somehow, they had brought the boat around ahead of us and we re-boarded and cruised to the other end.
Many of the people on the boat headed off to climb to Grinnell Glacier and the rest of us gathered to hike with Ranger Bob to Grinnell Lake. Light rain fell on us as we walked through the forest. We saw a moose a short distance from the trail, eating huckleberries. Our friends, Don and Joyce Wells, who are park veterans, had told us that this was a good place to see moose.
We crossed Cataract Creek on a swinging suspension bridge, one of Mrs. Davis’ favorite experiences, and arrived soon thereafter at the lake. Ranger Bob told us about the geologic history of the park and pointed way up on the cliffs to tiny white dots that were mountain goats. Lots of binoculars appeared at that.
We saw the moose again on the way back, lying with his back to us in a grassy dell. Ranger Bob told us that if a moose or a bear should approach us in a threatening manner, we were to form a circle and he would get inside.
We had lunch in the Ptarmigan Room at a lakeside window. Our busboy was from Kazakhstan and our server from Slovakia. Gail said her Reuben sandwich was the best she’s ever eaten.
Rain began to fall in serious amounts after lunch and we found sofa chairs in the lobby next to the fireplace and did not budge for the rest of the day except to get Irish coffees from the lounge. We watched lots of people trail in from their hike to the glacier. Most said that they returned before the rain got too bad. Some had to share the trail with bighorn sheep who were not happy to share.
We ran into Russ Jensen from the bike club in the gift shop and his wife Kay. They were on their way home to San Luis Obispo.
We got to have cheese fondue in the dining room later on and it was worth waiting for.
Saturday
Yesterday’s rain turned to snow on the higher peaks and we awoke to a winter wonderland.
After breakfast, we walked on the Swiftcurrent Lake Nature Trail between the lake and the road. Don and Joyce recommended this as another good trail to see moose, at Fishercap Lake.
We stopped to ask a group of parked motorists why they were staring through binoculars at the hill on the other side. They said they were watching a grizzly mother and two cubs. We asked where to look and they said they were behind bushes and we couldn’t see them.
We shopped at the Swiftcurrent Motor Inn store, then took the Swiftcurrent Pass trail to the Fishercap Lake fork and walked a short distance to the lake. A group of people from the Elder hostel bus tour told us we were wasting our time to come there looking for moose and we smiled at them.
The lake surface was calm and smooth like glass and reflected the surrounding mountains in such a compelling way that I took more photographs than was really warranted. On our way out, I suggested a short cut on a trail that looked as if it were going in the right direction. Three moose loomed out of the brush ahead of us and browsed their way toward us, paying no attention as long as we did not move. I took a lot of photos while Gail hurriedly walked back to the main trail. Don and Joyce were right again.
Back at the lodge in time for lunch, we chatted with the Ptarmigan Room manager, RJ, and gave him our card because he said he wants to come work in Morro Bay next January.
We found chairs again in the main lodge after lunch next to the fireplace and never budged again until dinner time. Except that every once in a while, herds of people migrated outside to the deck with their binoculars. The first time, Gail joined them and asked what they were looking at. It was a grizzly bear with two cubs, but they were hidden behind bushes when Gail looked for them.
People were also abuzz with the news of a bear that swam across the lake earlier in the day. Gail talked to several people who know all about it but no one who had actually seen it.
Dinner again in the Ptarmigan lounge, bison stroganoff, and that was that.

East Glacier

2008-01-25T16:14:00.000-08:00

September 4, 2007
Tuesday
Up at 0300 for phase two of our journey. Bob and Lynn arose also and Lynn fixed us a bag of muffins to take and Bob gave us ice for the cooler.
On the road at 0330 back to Coeur d’Alene and north around Pend Oreille lake. My French is inadequate to understand whether that means hanging ear or earring. We crossed into Montana and our cell phones reset to Mountain time.
We had to pull over near Flathead Lake to let a house go by. We arrived at Glacier Park Lodge just after noon and checked in. The temperature was 78, considerably warmer than we have been observing for several weeks on the Yahoo weather watch.
We checked in and then took a picnic lunch underneath the trees in the front garden. The Amtrak station is across the road, a handy thing because the lodge was built by the Great Northern Railway in 1913 as a way to increase passenger traffic. Elevation is 4,800 feet and we are on the edge of the Blackfoot Nation.
The bedroom was large and the bathroom was not. The shower stall was small enough to hold one person standing upright. In order to wash below my waist, I had to stand on one foot and lift the other foot within arm reach while trying to avoid bumping the temperature control of the shower water.
We had dinner in the lounge and watched the sun set over the mountains and that was just fine.
Wednesday
We signed up for the Red Motor Coach tour, which are White Motor Company buses that were put into service in 1933 and refurbished in 2003 by Ford Motor Company. Larry Perry from Detroit drove us on the Big Circle Tour.
We started by heading for Marias Pass where we stopped and admired the statue of John Stevens who surveyed the route through Stevens Canyon for the Grand North Railway. He named the pass after Maria, who was either Merriwether Lewis’ niece or mistress or both.
The air was smoky from the Skyland fire which has burned 45,000 acres so far. Larry said snow will eventually put it out.
Larry showed us the basic geologic layout of the park. The Rocky Mountains were formed when the Western tectonic plate overrode the Eastern plate. The top two layers of colored strata that we see are sedimentary rock and the beige layer is igneous intrusion.
We stopped at Goat Lick Rock and watched mountain goats lick the green rocky cliff that apparently contains a low concentration of salt.
We saw examples of two different styles of fire suppression. National Park Service believes that wild fire is part of the natural process and lets natural fires run, except to try to protect people, buildings and sensitive habitat. Forest Service has a different mission and tries to save trees by jumping on fires to contain them and put them out. So on one side of the highway in Stevens Canyon, we saw lots of green forest and on the other side we saw blackened sticks of trees with brush and young lodgepoles growing in between. Same fire, different results.
Following the natural progression of nature, lodgepole pines, whose cones require great heat to germinate, grow rapidly to fill in burnt areas at about a foot per year of height. Fifty years after a fire, Doug firs grow up amongst the lodgepoles, surpass them in height and the lodgepoles die from lack of sunlight. They fall onto the forest floor and create conditions for another wildfire.
After entering the park at the western entrance, we drove to Apgar, a private town at the foot of Lake McDonald, a cirque lake that was named from a wood carving. After Mr Apgar acquired the land, he discovered a name carved into a tree, "McDonald," and named the lake and the valley and so on accordingly.
At this point Larry rolled back the canvas top and we were treated to panoramic views of the mountains filling the horizon around us.
We had lunch at the Lake McDonald Lodge and were happy that we had the same food choices as at the Glacier Lodge so we didn’t have to spend a lot of time reading the menu.
From there we embarked, or embused, on the Going to the Sun Highway, carved out of the Garden Wall, a glacial arr te that separates McDonald Valley from Many Glacier. The highway was deliberately designed to minimize visual impact by following a straight line as much as possible rather than ascending the wall in switchbacks.
We observed goats from an observation point just below Logan Pass, on the Continental Divide. A few minutes later we observed bighorn sheep on the other side of the highway.
At the Logan Pass visitor center, we read a mural that told us:
"Far away in northwestern Montana, hidden from view by clustering mountain peaks, lies an unmapped corner–the Crown of the Continent."
–George Bird Grinnell, 1901
We descended Logan Pass and stopped to observe Jackson Glacier. Larry told us that glaciers are defined as being at least 75 acres, 100 feet deep and moving, pulled by gravity. In 2000, scientists counted 35 glaciers in the park; in 2007, 26 glaciers and they predict that in 2030 they will all be gone.
We rounded a corner and Larry pointed out rock ledges where goats give birth in the spring. During their first week of life, they are small enough to be picked up by eagles, which are their only natural predator, so the mothers spend that time standing over the kids defending them while eagles circle overhead and make occasional runs to see what develops.
As we wended our way the last thirty miles along the edge of the Blackfoot Nation, Larry told us that Merriwether Lewis followed the Cutbank River north almost into the park to see if it provided northern access to the Pacific, but gave up after the river turned westward into the Rockies. Larry said that historians have been able to locate all of the Discovery Corps campsites during their journey. Captain Lewis was advised before leaving St Louis that, in order to prevent constipation among his men, he needed to administer daily doses of mercury. This left telltale markers in the daily camp middens that scientists have located. It wasn’t clear to me whether the researchers looked for mercury deposits or simply followed a trail of tuna cans.
At the end of the day, we had driven 140 miles in a great loop that bisected the park and took nine and a half hours.
We stopped by the great fireplace after supper to check a presentation by Chief Curly Bear about the history of the Blackfoot Nation.

On the Way to Canada

2008-01-22T10:07:00.000-08:00

August 29, 2007
Wednesday
We got on the road at 0320, leaving Nevada City headed for Sandy, Oregon. Daylight eased over the horizon as we passed through Redding. We arrived at Cousin Nancy’s house at 2:30. Nancy is the daughter of my Dad’s first cousin, Irving. Our paternal grandfathers were brothers.
Nancy drove us to Timberline Lodge where we sat in a window seat and had a beer and dips and chips and looked at the mountain that defeated us a couple of decades ago. Cousin Jim, Catherine, Doug and Greg and I drove to Mt Hood one day with the intention of climbing it the next day. Weather was not kind to us. We climbed through knee-high snow to the top of the ski lifts and encountered a thick blanket of fog. Choosing discretion over valor, we retreated to the lodge and warmed ourselves before the fire before returning home.
Thursday
We drove to Edgefield Resort in Troutdale, owned by the famous McMenamin brothers of Portland. They specialize in restoring old properties that are otherwise destined for destruction. Edgefield was a poor farm during the Depression. The McMenamins have restored the hotel, built a golf course, turned the powerhouse into a brewpub and were preparing that night to host Stevie Wonder in an outdoor concert.
Nancy introduced us to Lemon Drops and we carried the glasses as we toured the gardens and looked for the statue of Jerry Garcia, formerly hidden in a patch of wild blackberries. The berries have been cleared and Jerry was in full sight, an unfortunate circumstance for the people who used to hang out there.
We drove up the Historic Columbia River Gorge to Chanticleer Point, a scenic view point from which we could see Vista House on Crown Point and the broad Columbia rolling toward us. Then we drove to Vista House and admired the view of Chanticleer Point and the Columbia River rolling away from us.
Nancy took us next to Multnomah Falls, the number one tourist destination in Oregon. Then we went to Bonneville Dam, where Woody Guthrie wrote
"Tom Jefferson’s vision would not let him rest,
An empire he saw in the Pacific Northwest’
Sent Lewis and Clark and they did the rest,
So roll on, Columbia, roll on."
Nancy persuaded the security guard to allow us to visit the Visitors Center where someone counts the number of fish who climb the ladder every day on their way upstream to spawn. Then we visited Herman the Giant Sturgeon in the fish viewing ponds. Sturgeons don’t climb ladders so they inhabit less of the river than the salmons.
We called our motel in Coeur d’Alene and told him we would be late arriving. He said he’d leave the light on for us and the door unlocked and we could register in the morning.
We had late lunch/early dinner at the 6th Street Bistro in Hood River, sitting on the outside deck and watching windsurfers sail above the Columbia.
We said good-bye to Nancy at 5:00 and headed up river for Idaho. Gail drove to Kennewick just over the border into Washington. I drove the rest as we passed through a cold front that put a few drops of water on the windshield and we arrived at the Flamingo Motel in Coeur d’Alene at 10 pm.

Hollywood

2007-12-10T11:34:00.000-08:00

Saturday
Gail asked for a weekend trip for Christmas so I gave her Hollywood. We boarded Amtrak in San Luis Obispo on an early Saturday morning.
It is the rule that Amtrak trains must stand aside for Union Pacific freight traffic and we had the pleasure of waiting thirty minutes before we could even leave the yard in San Luis. We spent the time eating the sandwiches we had packed for lunch and watching the scenery that stayed stationary outside our windows.
We arrived at Union Station in Los Angeles at 12:30 and went underground in search of the Metro Red Line for Hollywood. After some confusion buying tickets at the automated machine, we rode underneath Los Angeles to our stop at Hollywood and Highland.
Coming up several stair flights to the sunlight, we had become disoriented by the time we reached the sidewalk on Hollywood Boulevard. I had to go into Frederick’s of Hollywood for assistance.
It was just around the corner and we walked through the parking lot of the Renaissance Hotel to our little Orchid Suites and signed in and dropped our luggage off.
Back on the street, we walked through the new and enormous Hollywood and Highland (H&H) shopping complex to the Starline Tours kiosk in front of Mann’s Chinese Theater. We had reservations for a trolley tour of Tinseltown and boarded the red trolley for the 2:00 tour.
Charlie drove us first to Hollywood Bowl where we parked and walked inside for a close-up view of the box seating and the famous stage. Then we drove up Beachwood Drive to Charlie’s favorite view of the HOLLYWOOD sign where we disembused and took photos of one another with the sign floating above our heads in the viewing frame.
Charlie told us that the letters of the sign are 36 feet wide and 45 feet high. They were erected to advertise a new housing development in the Hollywood Hills and originally spelled out HOLLYWOODLAND. The land company is still in business and Charlie took us by their office so we could take photos of it.
We rode back into town and drove past several studio entrances and looked at locked doors and gates, then returned to the Chinese Theater for our next tour–See the Stars’ Homes and Where They Live.
Pete drove this tour on a mini-bus and we began with a view of the Kodak Theater’s back entrance, where the stars board their limousines after the Academy Award ceremonies.
We drove through the parking lot of the Magic Castle restaurant, which is open to members only, and up the hill to Yamashiro Restaurant where we disembused and took photos of the Los Angeles skyline.
Then we got into the meat of the tour and began with Bob Barker’s house on Outpost, where he’s lived for 40 years. Then Pete took us onto Sunset and we cruised the Strip.
Pete showed us Paris Hilton’s house with her $500,000 Mercedes McLaren parked outside at the curb. He told us that one of her sources of income is being hired to show up at parties for $100,000 an hour.
Back on the Strip, we went past the Laugh Factory and Comedy Store, House of Blues, Whiskey a Go Go and the Mondrian Hotel’s Sky Bar, which is the hottest and most exclusive night club in Los Angeles.
In Beverly Hills, Pete showed us the house that Edward Doheny built for his son–55 rooms, 46,000 square feet, constructed in 1920 for $5 million. The 18-acre estate is now a city park, open to the public every day from 10-6.
Next door was Ozzy Osbourne’s house. Pete told us that, Sure, the sidewalks are public property, but walking into the driveway is trespassing, and Ozzy has installed a set of high pressure sprinklers amongst the bushes to soak people who walk in to have their photos taken in front of his gate. What a trickster!
We drove by Frank Sinatra’s house and Tom Cruise’s. Everywhere we looked we saw Ferraris, Bentleys, Rolls Royces and three more McLarens (Mercedes makes only 500 a year).
We passed the Beverly Hills Hotel, built in 1912, a historical landmark and currently owned by the Sultan of Brunei. Every year it is listed among the Top Twenty hotels of the world. Johnny Carson had a regular cottage that he lived in each time he went through a divorce.
Ira and George Gershwin lived next door to each other on Roxbury. Jack Benny lived at 1002 Roxbury and Lucille Ball lived next door. Jimmy Stewart lived across the street.
Judy Garland’s front yard was filled with fanciful statues that Howard Hughes gave her when she married Vincent Minelli.
In the Bel Air district, Pete pointed out that the ACS Security Company provided security for every home except one–the driveway leading to Nancy Reagan’s house is guarded by a kiosk equipped with bulletproof glass windows and machine guns.
Nicholas Cage owns the house that Dean Martin built that has a bar in every room.
Farther west on Sunset Avenue was Pacific Palisades where Steven Spielberg, Tom Hanks and Arnold Schwarzenegger live.
We passed the UCLA campus on Sunset next door to Bel Air and drove into the Holmby Hills past Ed Asner’s house. Beyond that, next to the public park, is Aaron Spelling’s modest 123-room, 46,500 square foot cottage which he named "The Manor." He built it by purchasing twelve neighboring estates, tearing down their mansions and building his own for $47 million. His wife Candy and their son, Randy, live there now. Tori Spelling moved out because she said it was too small. Can’t imagine what she moved into. The gift-wrapping room alone is 850 square feet.
Pete told us that Mr. Spelling was the most prolific producer in history and retained the rights to every show he produced. That means that the money his family makes from their daily residual checks is more than a person can spend.
We drove past the Beverly Hilton, owned by Merv Griffin and currently home to the Golden Globes. Mr. Griffin created Jeopardy and wrote the "thinking" song that they play during the show. His residuals from that song alone has earned him $84 million and counting.
From Wilshire Boulevard, we turned onto Rodeo Drive, the most expensive shopping district in the world. Many of the shops we passed displayed signs saying that they were open by appointment only.
We drove past the Palm Restaurant on Santa Monica where Jack Nicholson likes to go after a Lakers game for a Martini and a Porterhouse.
At the end of the tour, Pete dropped us off at the Chinese Theater and Gail and I walked upstairs to the Great Steak and Potato Company and bought cheesesteak sandwiches to take to our room for supper.
Sunday
Out the door at 9:30 for a walk to the Egyptian Theater where we bought tickets for a tour and a movie.
Sid Grauman looked for gold in the Klondike and failed and turned to selling newspapers. He moved to San Francisco and went to work in a movie house. The day after the 1906 earthquake, he put up a tent and showed moving pictures.
A real estate developer asked him to come to Southern California and build a movie palace to help lure people to the isolated farming community of Hollywood. Mr. Grauman completed the Egyptian five months before the discovery of King Tut’s tomb in Egypt. Timing is everything.
The Egyptian has a large outside courtyard, a small lobby, and a small screen. Live prologues introduced screen features on a stage outlined by a classically beautiful proscenium. The theater seated 2,000 people.
With a surprising lack of insight, Grauman did not see the value of selling food to his patrons. Food stands sprang up lining the courtyard entry and a door in the wall led into the neighboring Pig and Whistle watering hole.
American Cinematheque has restored the theater and shows historical films in their original format.
Gail and I tried the door in the wall and it was locked, but a bus boy inside opened it and we had lunch at the Pig and Whistle, just like Cary Grant used to do.
After lunch we signed up for the tour of the Kodak Theater, which was built specifically to host the Academy Awards show. It seats 3,200 and has a 70-year contract with the Academy. The FBI has identified the Kodak as a primary terrorist target so we were not allowed to take cameras inside.
Kodak paid $75 million for name rights to the theater for 25 years and the company is proud to point out that every Oscar-winning movie has been shot on Kodak film–68 consecutive years.
Hollywood begins setting up for the annual awards celebration by rolling out the red carpet on Hollywood Boulevard, a quarter-mile walk that takes a week to set up. Limousines unload their precious cargo on the night of the show and the stars saunter along the row of cameras and cheering fans. Bars inside the theater serve cocktails free of charge until 5 pm, attempting to lure the audience into their seats before curtain time.
Leading actors are seated in the first row, supporting actors in the second, directors in the third, and so on. Nominees are moved closer to the stage to a vacated row as their time approaches. 150 extras are on hand to race to fill vacant seats whenever a star needs to go potty.
Each nominee receives two tickets, the rest are distributed by lottery to members of the Screen Actors Guild. An additional 300 tickets are given by lot to the general public in an August drawing each year. Those lucky individuals get to watch the perp parade from across the street, then are escorted into the El Capitán Theater to watch the awards show on the big screen.
Sid Grauman sold the Egyptian Theater in 1927 and built the Chinese Theater after returning from a tour of China. Gail and I bought tickets and toured the Chinese after we left the Kodak.
The first footprints in the courtyard out front were made by Norma Talmadge on May 18, 1927, when she slipped and stepped into wet concrete. The most recent at the time of our tour were imprinted by Kevin Costner on January 6, 2006. The rule is that you must be a star attending the premiere showing of your most recent movie to qualify to step into the concrete. Two stars are admitted each year and the next one scheduled was Will Smith.
The foyer and lobby are works of art in an Oriental motif. Our guide escorted us to a VIP lounge upstairs where you can hang out and watch for stars. The upstairs theaters have loge sections with seat numbers so you can order popcorn and have it delivered.
Gail and I went by Beard Papa for cream puffs and fondants on the way to our room and picked up salads and sandwiches at Green Earth Café. We ate dinner watching the Colts beat the Patriots to advance to the Super Bowl.
Monday
Out the door at 9:15 a.m. and next door to the Renaissance Hotel. We took an elevator to the Grand Ballroom on the penthouse floor and peeked around inside. On the evening of the Academy Awards, the ballroom is configured to seat 1,600 invited celebrities for the Governors dinner–the Governors of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Science, not the Governor of California.
As we exited the ballroom, a uniformed security guard asked us what our business was and we said we were tourists and she suggested that we move on. We took the grand stairway to the lobby and used the rest rooms and moved on.
At 10 o’clock we met our Red Line Walking Tour guide, Mick, at the Stella Adler Hotel. Mick was a retired Sergeant Major from the British Army and a former Beefeater at the Tower of London who married an American girl he met on a tour of the Tower. He showed us a poster-sized photo of himself standing next to Queen Elizabeth and told us how much he enjoyed watching The Queen at the Egyptian theater in December with a live introduction by Helen Mirren.
The Stella Adler is a school for actors and we toured the hallways and visited a 1920s speakeasy that was hidden inside a secret passageway.
As we walked on Hollywood Boulevard toward the Egyptian, Mick told us about the sidewalk stars. Recipients must be prominent in either Film, TV, Radio, Recording or Live Stage. Only one person has been honored for all five media performances and I will tell you the name later.
Stars must be involved in charitable works, they must attend the Star ceremony and they must put up $15,000. Donald Trump at that moment was the most recent Star of 2,326 Stars installed. One star is not on the sidewalk. Muhammad Ali is posted on a wall to honor his wish that people do not walk on the name of Muhammad.
El Capitán Theater was built in 1926, four years after the Egyptian. It is owned by Disney and makes more money than any theater in the world. It was sold out for five weeks straight for Pirates of the Caribbean - Dead Mans Chest, five shows per day, 2,000 seats per show. Gail and I had earlier noted with alarm that it was being sold out over the weekend to children lining up to see Mary Poppins.
We had lunch at Miceli’s, in what our host insisted was Julia Roberts’ favorite booth. I fantasized that my butt sat where hers has.
After lunch we walked to the Hollywood Entertainment Museum and found that it no longer exists. We did find the five-media star, though, which was awarded to Gene Autry.
We went inside the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel, a famous and historic landmark, location of the first Academy Awards presentation, which lasted fifteen minutes in 1929. Here is a description of that ceremony from the World Wide Web:
The first Academy Awards ceremony was held on May 16, 1929. It was a quiet affair compared to the glamor and glitz that accompany the ceremonies of today. Two hundred and fifty people attended the black-tie banquet that evening in the Blossom Room of Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel. Though this was the first time these awards were to be given, the attendees were not anxious. Unlike the secrecy that surrounds the winners of today's ceremonies, the winners of the first Academy Award ceremony were announced three months early.
After everyone had eaten dinner, Douglas Fairbanks, the president of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, stood up and gave a speech. Then, with the help of William C. deMille, he called the winners up to the head table and handed them their awards.
The statuettes that were presented to the first Academy Awards winners were nearly identical to those handed out today. Sculpted by George Stanley, The Academy Award of Merit (Oscar's official name) was a knight, made of solid bronze, holding a sword and standing upon a reel of film.
The very first person to receive an Academy Award didn't attend the first Academy Awards ceremony. Emil Jannings, the winner for best actor, had decided to go back to his home in Germany before the ceremony. Before he left for his trip, Jannings was handed the very first Academy Award.
In contrast, Gail and I found the hotel to be dark and dismal and mostly empty and depressing, so we went to see Mary Poppins. It was delightful. We arrived late and stayed through the intermission to see the beginning.
The theater was spectacular–fully restored–elegant and extravagant. A live Mary Poppins introduced the movie on stage and encouraged us to sing along, with "a spoonful of sugar to make the medicine go down." And best of all, the weekend was over and all the children had gone away.
Beard Papa afterward for dessert and back to our room to indulge in leftover lunch from Miceli’s.
Tuesday
Wouldn’t you know it–the Academy announced this morning the nominees for this year’s awards, from Merv Griffin’s Beverly Hilton. Did we ever feel like insiders!
Out the door at 0830, onto the Metro and to Union Station where we boarded our Amtrak car. Bloody Marys and lunch and we arrived in San Luis Obispo almost on time.