The quick brown fox jumped over the good, but lazy Parker family.
the spindler sisters were decidedly the only women there under 300 lbs — and watching the crowd as they moved through is as close as i’ll ever get to witnessing supermodels navigate the paparazzi on fifth avenue.
i didn’t shoot myself — not sure anybody was ready to a the long-haired hippie with anything approximating a loaded weapon — but watching everybody else watching the spindler sisters squeeze off a few rounds was totally worth all those awkward “who let him in here” stares i recieved.
second consecutive day on the water … this time on a “blow boat” with friends of the family (who are also my 59th cousins 326 times removed). we went out to the Isle of Shoals, a group of nine small islands about 7 miles off the coast of Portsmouth, New Hampshire and Kittery, Maine.
During the 1700’s, there was a town on the islands, Gosport, which was fairly prosperous up until about 1778, when the Islanders were evacuated to Rye, New Hampshire due to the Revolutionary War. The islands were then largely abandoned until the middle of the 19th century, when a popular summer hotel opened on Appledore Island. Currently, the only inhabitants are a Unitarian church retreat, and scientific research camp.
Having never been on a sailboat, it was quite an experience covering those 7 miles and back again. We were on such a beautiful 30-foot sailboat that I am shocked I didn’t get a single picture of the boat itself.
spent the day with my godparents, out on their boat!
Portsmouth’s harbor is on the Piscataqua River, the third fastest-flowing navigable river in the world. the harbor, arguably the finest in New England, is dominated by the Portsmouth Naval Shipyard, located across the river on Seavey’s Island in Kittery, Maine.
we went up river (against that aforementioned 3rd fastest current in the world) and had some steller sandwiches under the “middle” bridge. giving up the fight, we went back downstream to a big muckity-muck yacht club by the old Wentworth resort and picked out our own personal “post-lottery winnings” yacht.
It was a wonderful day!
last day in portland, oregon. it’s a gorgeous place… i will miss it wildly. which got me thinking…
i’ve been trying to move to get out of DC pretty steadily since 1998. i tried very hard to move to Oregon early in my failed marriage (she would have none of it) when I worked for a company out of Eugene. closer to the end of my tenure there, i was a week away from relocating when it turned out that a position I was jonesing for — in Eugene — wasn’t actually available.
not that oregon has a monopoly on my desires to get out of DC. i almost pulled the trigger twice on Vermont, once while working for Bernie Sanders — Vermont’s Representative in the U.S. Congress — and once shortly after my divorce.
being on vacation outside of the political, type-“A” rat-race that is DC has reminded me how much i still want to get out of here before I start firebombing politicians.
I don’t remember anything more than fleeting before i was a teenager — not world events, not personal experiences … nothing. Well, except for thinking that a volcano erupting in the Pacific Northwest was pretty dern cool.
Obviously, I was a little young to understand or appreciate the tragedy associated with a natural disaster (I had just turned 5 the monthe before the eruption) but I was about 2 classes away from being a Geology majory, so it must have done something for me.
Mount St. Helens is only about 2 hours from Portland, and half of that was on the mountain access road itself. The trip was devistatingly gorgeous, though it was one of those days (that I can never explain) where the photos just don’t do the day or the subject justice.
Spent the day hiking around “Shotgun Recreational Site” outside of Springfield, Oregon (don’t bother Googling “shotgun” and “Oregon” … nothing useful turns up. Fantastically large trees.
The picture here isn’t actually of the park (or “Recreational Site” as it were) but was of sunset on the drive back to Portland.
Watched Portland’s fireworks from the top of Mt. Tabor, a community park that sits several hundred feet above and about 60 blocks away from downtown. After the big fireworks, we can back home and the community had gathered to shoot some off behind a nearby elementary school …
Drove the length of the old historic Columbia River highway, and took in half a dozen (or more) of the waterfalls that line the river. Most of them were bigger than any that I had ever seen before, and all of them were VERY photogenic.
After driving through the Columbia River Gorge, we set off for Mt. Hood. After decades of east coast mountains, it’s hard to put a 11,000 ft volcano into perspective. Spent the latter part of the day wandering around the Timberline Lodge, a ski-resort on Mt. Hood that is operated by the U.S. Forest Service.