Sammies' New Daycare, Hood River, OR

After picking up the sammies from the "bunk bed" daycare, we noticed that they weren't very calm.  In fact, they seemed like they needed more exercise- not the usual behavior after a day of doggy daycare.   We discovered that the really only had about 40 minutes of exercise the whole day.

We called the other daycare in Hood River.  It sounded sketchy, but we were desperate.  The drive took us to the famous "fruit loop" in Hood River, a beautiful circular highway route through Hood River's hilly fruit orchards.  I was delighted to find an old farm with lots of outdoor space and a fenced-in yard. 

Fido's Fun Farm, Hood River, OR

Fido's FF

When I rang the bell, lots of barking doggies greeted me, and one from behind the curtain.  No answer.  I walked around the yard looking for the owner, and finally a young woman trudged up from the barn.  Apparently she is a helper and the owner would be back soon.  After some conversations of what we were looking for in a daycare, she assured me that the dogs would be safe- they "love all their dogs."

Finally the owner, Lu Ann, pulled up, and greeted us with a smile. She was about 60 years old, with a wrinkled suntanned face, strong arms and a kind face. She showed me the inside of her house, which had gates set up like a maze in the entryway, so doggies could sniff first, then greet one another properly.  The house had that farmy smell and a well-worn but comfy decor. We offered to have our vet fax her their updated vaccine list.  "Nah, that's not necessary.  I believe you."  Another example of, if I may generalize, a relaxed Hood River hippie. 

I felt confident doggies would be fine there, but my husband had some trepidation.  Nothing is good enough for his babies.

With our new found freedom, we enjoyed a slow dogless brunch at our favorite breakfast place in Hood River, "Egg River."  They serve only organic eggs, and mostly organic-everything else.  You have to hit it at just the right time to avoid the wait.  For once we did!

Summer Road Trip 2015- Arrving in Hood River

Leaving Springville Utah we headed to Boise, Idaho.  Staff made a last-minute decision to stay in the right side of the divided under-construction-highway, which appeared to be the faster moving of the two sides.  Unfortunately, we ended up in a very slow, major traffic jam.  Apparently there was an accident a mile or two ahead.  Luckily we had enough gas to get us through.  This is always tricky with a trailer, huge truck and A/C blasting.  You just never know if your previous calculations are right or if you can still trust the gas gauge.  I never trust it due to an instance in our old neighborhood where mine broke, and I had to walk up the road in my nice work outfit and heels to get a gallon of gas.

Entering the Gorge along the Comubia River, Oregon

After cursing the person in the accident who inconvenienced us, and then admonishing ourselves for such evil thoughts, I suggested we do the "ABCs of Gratitude" to pass the time.  I learned this helpful game from some wise people, who have all sorts of ideas about how to keep one's mind focused on the positive in troubling situations. It started off very nice, being thankful for all the good people and things in our lives. Eventually ABCs of gratitude digressed to inappropriate adult talk, that shall not be discussed here.  Not exactly the game my wise friends had in mind.
    

It seemed impossible that we'd ever get there, but finally we arrived in Boise. It was uneventful.  We slept in Walmart's parking lot, a favorite for sleepy RV travelers, though not for me.  I pouted like a girl about sleeping at Walmart.  I can't help it.  It's just wrong to wake up to the sound of truck deliveries and people loading their groceries.  A friend had suggested I shout out the window, "Hey! Can I have one of those Twinkies?"
   

Latest stop, Hood River, Oregon. Once again, our lack of planning continues to astound me.  It would be so easy, and yet we don't.  It's not as if it's a surprise where we are going.  Here's the thing- we need a campsite with electric, so that we can run the A/C. This allows the dogs to be cool and have enough noise to block the constant trains running along the Columbia River in the Gorge, where almost all campsites are located.  

Hood River city center

Hood River is a busy place for kiters.

Stafford heading out to join the other kiters on the Columbia River.

As my husband's luck would have it, we did find a KOA (love them!!) (Kampground of America) that had an available site with electric! A stroke of luck b/c this weekend was the Kite4Cancer event, which packs in the campers.  But our first day, Baccia tore off the screen and shade of one window while we were gone, probably when the train blew its whistle.  A fellow camper kindly told us that he really looked like he wanted out of the trailer.
    

That did it.  The trailer will be destroyed and we'll be personas non-gratas in the campground, unless we go to plan B - doggy daycare.  Luckily, there is one here and our vet was able to fax their info right away.  As I sit here in my favorite Hood River coffee shop, they are enjoying sleeping in a "bunk bed" and playing with some new friends. 

A calm-for-the-moment Baccia looks out at his kingdom.

Armenian blackberries are delicious right off the vine at our campground, but they are invasive.

Train tracks behind our campground.  They are busy all day, and night, too!

With doggies safe and unable to destroy our property, Staff and I visited some of the kiting companies whose gear he sells.  It was an interesting experience to see how different companies are run.  Some were efficient and friendly, while others were disorganized, with a welcome of "Hey, bro, how's it going?" We also learned that the snow has melted quite a bit since we were here 4 years ago.  One of the locals said she's afraid that there spring-fed water supply will run out.  Hood River has also changed its look- the beach front is more built-up and businesses are growing. This hippie outdoorsy town is changing.  Lots of new subdivisions have sprung up near our campground.  We wondered what the teachers are paid, a common response to any beautiful place we visit.
   

As I sit here, Staff is kiting on the Columbia River, and I enjoyed a wonderful run/walk in bright sunshine along the river.  My Irish skin is freckling rapidly, so I'm taking a break from the sun.

Stafford on his hydrofoil.

    

Summer Road Trip 2015-Springville, Utah

Sammies playing with new friends in Utah

Baccia, get off your brother!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sammies were so happy to find friends in Utah.

Happy hot Finny in Springville, Utah dog park.

Springville, Utah KOA (Kampground of America)

After a very long, possibly too long, night of driving we stopped in what we thought was going to Park City, Utah, but ended up being Springville, near Provo.  This was at first very disappointing to both of us, and especially me.  I wanted to do the zip-line, which my sister and I had done the year before.  It's a terrifying experience with a 300 foot vertical drop before you level off.  I spent the entire drop trying to defy gravity in some sort of twisted fetal position, but when we leveled off it was actually quite lovely.  I knew Staff would love it.  Unfortunately, do to our usual lack of planning, we had no idea where we were going and completely missed our exit for Park City.  Actually, we both saw it and thought, "That can't be right."  It was.
      

But Springville actually had some bonus features. First, it got low marks for having a Dennys, whose bathrooms were under construction, so they made you use the port-a-potty outside.  Ew.  But the bonus features include a lovely mountain bike trail and paved bike trail through the mountains in the city. 
     

We spotted many small shy deer peeking out at us behind the trees on the mountain bike trail.  My altitude sickness (and yes, I will attribute my sick feeling to that and not being out of shape) made for a short mountain bike ride, so we enjoyed flying down the hill and ended with an easy rolling ride on the paved trail. 
     

Dinner that night was at the local Arby's in the center of town, which included a small cluster of businesses with a bustling parking lot.  Groups of young men practiced their lasso skills, showing off for the teenage girl who watched them.  A huge RV with colorful blinking lights was parked in the lot, and at first we thought it was a food truck.  Heck, why not try some local fare and forget Arby's?  But no, upon closer examination it was a sticker truck, and what I assumed was a colorful design from far away was probably 5000 stickers covering the truck.  Yes, they could make any kind of sticker you could possibly want.  My only regret is that I didn't take a picture.

Who dares to cross our threshold!

View from our campsite in Springville, Utah

Ecstatic Baccia in Springville's dog park

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dramatic views from Utah's highways

 

 

 

Summer Road Trip 2015- First Stop, Nebraska

The story of our 2015 summer road trip out west starts in the city of Ogallala, Nebraska on Lake McConaghey.  (I don't know if I spelled either of those correctly.)  Sammies were very excited to be in the truck with us instead of at home with the doggy sitter.  Our first stop was in Iowa, but sadly I can't recall a single thing from our stop there, not even the place we camped.  No offense, Iowa.
       

Lake McConaghey is a huge lake that empties out into a lower lake to keep the farm area from flooding.  It's also a great stop when heading west for a swim and kite surfing.  Normally there is a huge sandy beach, where people park their RVs and just walk a few feet to the water's edge.  But just like when we visited 4 yeas ago, the beach was completely submerged. According to one local, it is never submerged - only when we visit. So Stafford had to slide down the side of this cliff to start his kite session.

He brought his hydro foil board because it allows him to kite in very low wind conditions.  He said learning to ride it was akin to riding a unicycle, but once you figure it out it's fantastic.

A little background - after much debate Stafford convinced me that our Sammies, Finny and Baccia (ba'-cha) could handle being in a campground without going too nutso.  I held my ground for as long as I could, recalling the tumble I took in the last campground while trying to restrain them from eating a nice family as they walked by. Of course, they wouldn't have eaten anyone, but they would have aggressively sniffed.

Also, the timing was a little dicey because my mother was having her hip replaced and needed some help at home.  Luckily, my family rocks, and everyone was able to pitch in and visit during her surgery and recovery, so that Sammies could have their road trip out west.  My mother has spunk and made it through surgery and rehab with her sense of humor intact.  Despite a few tense moments, like a helpful hospital aide insisting that my crossword-puzzle-master-mother do this one really great "word search," she survived and is doing well.

Selfies don't work well with a real camera.

Stafford on his hydrofoil board floating on Lake McConaghey.