Ojai Beckons

A few days after my last treatment, we headed for Ojai to visit with Skip and Sheila.  What a lovely break from the desert and a wonderful visit with friends.  The driveway of Skip and Sheila is flat and perfect for Thistle.  It’s almost as if we have our own condo-in-a-driveway getaway.

Ed and I spent several mornings walking to town for coffee and a pastry plus exploration.  Ojai is a charming small town, situated in a valley and surrounded by mountains.  Idealyic, might be the right word.  Of course, I have a special feeling for Ojai, because I lived here as a kid.  My memories are fond ones, and I cherish my childhood experiences of running pretty wild exploring the nooks and crannies of my east valley neighborhood.  But Ojai is not just fond childhood memories.  It is also  the welcome we receive and the outstanding hosting poured forth by Skip and Sheila.

Going back in time is always so very interesting.  What we remember and what we don’t, with the memories helped out by the trauma or attention a certain activity generated.  I remember getting in serious trouble a few times.  Once when I borrowed a horse from Thatcher School, but my mom insisted I stole the horse and I was forbidden to ever again  go to Thatcher Scool.  I also received quite a lot of attention when I helped my Dad (who was at work)  burn trash.  The fire escaped it’s container, almost scaring my mom to death.  My sister, mom and I carried buckets of water to put it out, fortunately succeeding as Ojai is a wildfire waiting to happen.  My punishment was to sit all day (which is really, really hard for a five year old) at the scene of the crime to make sure it didn’t flare up again.  And then there was the time I walked to the main road to meet my sister coming home from school but instead went home with another friend who came by.  Getting home late, I found my parents fit to be tied, waiting with both worry and anger clearly displayed on their faces.  Isolation in my room for this one.

Small towns were like this back in my childhood.  Lots and lots of roaming freedom, but the rules  were not to be broken.  We needed to be back home for meals, and on time.  We needed to tell our parents where we were going and when we’d be home.    And, as I found out we were not to steal horses or start fires or wander away with a friend.

Anyway, my memories are fond memories and our visit with Skip and Sheila was wonderful and got even better when Sharon and Charlie joined us, adding to my warm and fuzzy feelings about Ojai.

Look how green the hills are.

Riding the orange groves splendid...

Hiking the hills beautiful...

Visiting with friends devine...

And then, there’s silly Ed...

~~~

Never stop screaming, playing and laughing,

 it’s part of our childhood which will always be with us.

Romina Noriega

Whitewater Preserve

Where do we stay in Palm Desert so we can do the medical stuff I require?  Not motels, hotels or fancy trailer parks.  Nope, we often park in the Kaiser parking lot, with their permission, so the doctors and treatments are within walking distance.  Other times we camp at Whitewater Preserve, Lake Coahuila, Pioneer Town, Chiraco Summit, Black Rock, Salton Sea, and Anza Borrego.  We kinda sleep around.

One of our favorite spots is Whitewater Preserve.  A private preserve, just 20 minutes from Palm Springs.   The land was purchased by Wildlands Conservancy along with Friends of the Desert Mountains and the Coachella Valley Mountains Conservancy. This preserve is doing a wonderful job of protecting and restoring these 291 acres, once the historic Whitewater Trout Hatchery.  Visiting Whitewater is free.  Plus one can camp  three nights free each month.  The camping is limited to vans and tents, and is next to ponds and a lovely picnic area.  The trails for hiking are wonderful and nearby.  The Pacific Crest Trail is a stone’s throw from the Visitor’s Center, picnic area, ponds and camping.  This entire area is critical habitat for the desert bighorn sheep and the federally endangered least Bell’s vireo and southwestern willow flycatcher.

Hikers and inspiration seekers flock to this environmental delight, so near, yet so far from the heavily populated Palm Springs, and surrounding towns.  It’s nice to note, all of the Wildlands Conservancy’s preserves are operated solely from private funding.  I definitely dipped into my wallet for a contribution.  How can one not support a program dedicated to the beauty and biodiversity of the earth and to provide programs so that children may know the joy and inspiration of nature?

And the cream topping on this delicious vanilla, strawberry and chocolate banana split was a visit from Leslie, a fellow traveler, who has become a friend. She, and her husband, Al, own a vehicle exactly like ours — Westie Sprinter.  She lives on the east coast but was visiting the west coast over the holidays, so we were able to meet up.

I highly recommend a visit to this preserve if ever you find yourself wanting solitude, peace, quiet and beauty while in the Palm Springs area.


                                              

~~~

Cherish sunsets, wild creatures and wild places.  

Have a love affair with the wonder and beauty of the earth.

Stewart Udall

Recalling Christmas

We departed from the NW for warmer climates on December 9.  With me freezing all the time, warmer seemed like a better option for winter this year, plus I didn’t want to give up Thistle adventures just because of a little cancer.  Nope.  I wanted to travel still, no matter what!

We needed to scurry down to the Palm Desert area as my first SW chemo treatment was already scheduled so we couldn’t stop and visit with family and friends as we headed south, much to our disappointment.  We are hoping to set up a schedule on our return trip that will allow time to make some visiting stops as we head home.

After rushing down to Palm Desert for treatment, then meeting with the doctor, my treatment was cancelled due to logistics issues at the treatment center (with only 4 chairs), and issues regarding my lack of tolerance to chemo buildup.  So, I picked up a mini vacation from chemo.  Right away I felt slightly better, giving me more energy to enjoy the holidays and a visit with Brad and Yessi.

When we first arrived we camped in Joshua Tree and were delighted, as always, with Joshua Tree’s stunning beauty.  The majestic Joshua Trees, dramatic cactus, monumental rocks, big sky, not to mention watching the climbers, all enchanted us, as always.

                                     

After a few days we  happily, delightedly and ecstatically welcomed Brad and Yessi.  They spent ten days with us, flying away to home again the day after Christmas.  Before the government shutdown made Joshua Tree off limits (we didn’t want to add to the crowds, many of which were gravely  misbehaving), we enjoyed a few days of hiking this beautiful place.

And biking too...

But, Brad being Brad, more adventure was needed.  So off to the Palm Desert Tram for a ride to the top of the mountain and a two day pack trip for Brad and Yessi.

The hike from the top to Idyllwild for Brad and Yessi, back to a campground at Idyllwild for Ed and me.   Brad and Yessi reported a fantastic hike to the top of Mt. San Jacinto, reaching 10,000+ feet elevation and snow.  A warm Thistle, with heat, for Ed and me.

The wrap up was Christmas in Idyllwild, bike riding, dining out, snow on Christmas morning, and a 

collection of gifts, funny to useful,  we’d been opening each evening for days.  A very special holiday no matter which angle I view it from!

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

~~~

“You can kiss your  family and friends good-bye and put miles between you, but at the same time you carry them with you in your heart, your mind, your stomach, because you do not just live in a world but a world lives in you.”

Frederick Buchner

Summer Catch Up

Where have I been?   

Clearly, missing from my Thistleadventure blog for quite a spell.  I have not been in Thistle writing mode for a variety of reasons, but mostly because of health issues.   Plus I was blocked because of password problems, and it took my dear daughter-in-law, Yessi, to figure it out.

As some of you know, but probably not all of you, I was diagnosed with Stage 4 colon cancer in the fall of 2017.  It had metastasized with growths in my liver and lungs and was also showing up, in a more minor ways, in other spots in my intestinal tract.  It was too deep in the liver to remove with surgery or radiation.  So, I’m on the chemotherapy path of hold-it-back to pick up time to live a bit more life.  My energy is way down, the chemo side effects bothersome, but still I’m getting out and about and enjoying life, between treatments.  

This past summer we made a number of small Thistle trips, like Keystone, close to home on Whidbey Island, for one or two nights.  The North Cascades snagged us as well, as did Lake Chelan and the Olympia area.                                            

                                         
                         


Lake Chelan was fun, sharing the trip with friends, very cold, but very beautiful.

                                    

                             

A trip down to the Olympia area for the Senior Olympic Games, saw Ed receiving two gold metals for race walking.

                                                      

At the end of August I decided I didn’t want to give up my past few years of riding the years of my birthday.  So I did it again, cancer or not.  We camped at Keystone on Whidbey Island, and I rode my birth years. This year I took three days, rather than doing the ride in one, and rode on my new e-bike, but still I rode 78 miles, with lots of support from my family and friends, grinning the entire way.    A wonderful birthday celebration!

We also managed to get to Lopez Island to visit friends and enjoy a kayak spin.

Tiny outings, but wonderful to be thistleadventuring once again. My doctors are impressed and not worried about the fatigue I experience after a ride.  

The summer trips will be local this year, grabbing a day here and there between treatments, but home is a glorious place to be too, so it’s a wonderful combo of good options.    

It’s interesting to note the changes in one’s philosophy when hit with the news of inoperable, metastasized cancer.  Suddenly the small things in life are more important and each day takes on a significance not quite recognized when the end of life was less in view.  I’ve had a truly wonderful life, for which I’m grateful.  

Summer is now over, and we really truly are on another thistleadventure.  Stay tuned.  More postings coming from the SW where we are spending the winter.

~~~

The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments

Of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at a time of challenge and controversy.

Martin Luther King

Sent from my iPad

A Clash of Cultures

I suspect we all feel a touch of disquietude from time-to-time.  Something doesn't feel quite right.  Even before any specific issue is identified, an unease is felt.  For us, as we travel, it happens sometimes when we pull into a littered campground or stop for lunch at a park with dirty restrooms.  Other times it is just driving through a town with an unpleasant smell or vacant rundown buildings.  Perhaps it is being thrust unwittingly into a city's homelessness issues.  The question that we must always ask ourself is this:  is it snobbery or legitimate concern or something else?  

Naturally, hunches like this need to be treated with great care because they can be caused by racial or class biases that we have carefully tucked away out of sight, but that can raise their ugly heads if we’re not alert.  Other times we must pay attention because our senses are warning us of a real danger.  Often we will never know if we were right in our retreat, other times we’re delighted we overcame a nervous hunch.  

Last night we camped along the beautiful Carbon River, just outside the NW entrance of Rainier National Park, in Mt. Baker-Snoqualmie National Forest, and the dead-end of Highway 165.  It is both beautiful and a tragedy of human bad behavior.  Each camp is littered with beer and pop cans, bottles and lids, flip tabs and cigarette butts.  Pieces of flotsam hiding in the fire pits and on the ground are everywhere, castoff by campers who do not understand the "Pack It In; Pack It Out" rule of mountaineering.  Yessi and I begin to pick up trash as Brad and Ed set up the vehicles for the night’s camp.  Tomorrow we will explore further up the road for the Green Trails  Maps hiking route Brad and Yessi will map in two weeks.

Thistle always provides a safe, clean, dry home

It is just beginning to rain.  The dog is nuts with happiness and keeps trying to get one or the other of us to throw sticks into the river.

He‘s also interested in a little corner of shrubs near our camp.  When we investigate we’re sickened.    PWFs (puffy white flowers) are everywhere — the tell-tale signs of an area being used as a restroom.

A disgusting collection of PWFs

Lots of people are camping and recreating along this road.  We would prefer a less crowded situation, but with rain settling in along with night, this is where we must stay.  With some disgust and much disappointment in my fellow human beings I am filled with sadness and a bit of trepidation    When I turn away from the mess, without taking a step, here is my view in the opposite direction — an open pit toilet and a river side-by-side.

The river and flood plain

Earlier in the day we investigated a forest service road for a camp site, but gave up.  The entire area was being used for ATV’s and target practice.  I’m not, in a broad sense, opposed to either, done with sensitivity, but sensitivity was no where in sight, although piles of litter were.   Each of the shooting range areas was totally trashed with the accumulation of years and years of empty shells, cans, car parts, old targets, bits of plastic and PWFs.  Each of the parking areas for the ATVs was the same.  Without much comment, we drove on, and then out of this sullied area.   

This morning we continue across the river and up into subalpine forest.  It is beautiful.  More shooting ranges, equally trashed, but we pass by quickly as the semi-automatics blast away, putting miles between them and us as fast as we can on this washboard road.  Toward the top we find the trailhead for Summit Lake and the beginning of a 30 mile loop Brad and Yessi will hike and record in two weeks.  We also found a beautiful campsite, and with a little litter removal we left it pristine.  Our conclusion for this site being in better condition is the location of a National Forest Toilet and garbage cans nearby.   The price we pay for not paying the price for maintaining our public lands is huge.  

Coplay Lake

Benton loving stick chasing in Coplay Lake

Brad and Benton exploring the lake's edge

Fran, Benton, Ed & Brad
Somehow Yessi was always our photographer

Sometimes, finding ourselves ill at ease with those around us is the push needed to regroup, reeducate, and readjust our thinking.  Clearly, all of us working harder to bridge economic and cultural chasms is worth striving for.  

~~~

"Snobbery management is as difficult and necessary as anger management."

~  Michael Foley

 Embracing the Ordinary:  Lessons from the Champions of Everyday Life

Borders

The strength of travel is in observing new things, with these new things leading to increased knowledge and the expansion of one's world view.  This expansion can be of how other people live, talk and eat or it can be observations about politics, flora and fauna, or geography.  We find it all fascinating and we thrive in newly discovered ideas as well as terrain.

On our recent trip to British Columbia I was particularly observant to how it felt crossing the border into another country, especially after the recent broadening of border security.  We've crossed the border into Canada many, many times over the years, rarely finding it completely stress free.  These days that stressful feeling is ramped up.  Our nation's days of discontent increase and our border crossings feel more threatening.  They are tense.  

Ed was born in Saskatchewan, so he often gets questioned by border patrol in more detail than I, especially by U.S. Customs.  Two years ago, Canadian Customs  pulled us over so they could run a background check on me.  Other times we just breeze through both U.S. and Canadian Customs.   Sometimes we must dispose of food or answer a barrage of seemingly strange questions.  We always try to be prepared with passports and Benton's vaccination documents ready; we carry no liquor; limit food on board; and have receipts for new purchases.  But still, we wonder, "what this time?"  We feel a touch of angst as we wait in the long line approaching the booth.

Coming home, back into the U.S. on this most recent trip, a passenger, about three cars in front of us, was pulled out, cuffed and led off, to who knows where.  It's difficult to completely relax in any situation where the officials have such a high degree of control, and the citizens must comply both physically and in attitude, or risk their escalation of power.

Generally speaking, though, the back and forth between the U.S. and Canada is not too difficult or stress generating, and if you pass through customs at the Peace Arch, it is an inviting and beautifully welcoming park in both directions.  Flags from both countries wave together in camaraderie and peace.

Our southern border with Mexico is quite a different experience, and has been for as far back as I can remember when my family and I visited relatives in the Imperial Valley, close to the Mexican border.  Although we have not crossed into Mexico for a few years, we have passed through check points often in our close-to-the-border travels.  And we are familiar with the past stress of entering and exiting Mexico.  Both Canada and Mexico are our neighbors, but equal treatment is no where in sight and it makes me sad.  This inequality is due to many reasons, but I suspect largely three -- economics, skin color and language.  The differences are staggering.

Along the U.S.-Mexican border, friendship arches and dual-country flags flying to show the camaraderie between our two countries are non-existent.  There are miles of fences and walls, expanses of cement, barbed wire, trash and filth everywhere.   And U.S. southern Border Patrol is tough.

Walking between countries is prison-like…

And then there are the ecological disaster walls impeding wildlife…

Humans are impeded too, by land and by sea…

Ed and I are left wanting to reach out.  To apologize.  We want to show we're friendly.   We want to  honor our neighbors to the south, as well as to the north.  Our encounters with the Spanish people have always been wonderful, both here in the U.S. and in Mexico and other Spanish-speaking nations, like when we spent a month in Ecuador.  Friendly people with easy smiles, who dance and sing and welcome us with delight.  People who love their families above all.  Religious people.   And the food couldn't be better!!  Just try, I dare you, to find a fish taco in the U.S. that tastes as good as a fish taco in Baja.

In Trump's call for wall designs, this one was submitted.   How healing and respectful and loving would this be?  It's still a wall, like at the Peace Arch going into Canada, but it's also a park and a place to join hands and be neighbors…   

Besides, if one is desperate to join loving family or in need of money, there is always a way…

~~~

"Borders are scratched across the hearts of men, by strangers with a calm, judicial pen, and when the

borders bleed we watch with dread the lines of ink along the map turn red."

~ Marya Mannes 

Vancouver Island Wrap-up

Sometimes the timing is off or the expectations are too unrealistic or our own quirks become too quirky. When this happens, to write about all things vacation being perfect is dishonest or at the very least, pretty darn Pollyannaish. Traveling is wonderful, but not always. Out of synch happens. Take our most recent sojourn on Vancouver Island.

The first scapegoat for any traveling discomfort is the weather. Ed and I always play with it a bit, and delight in heading to higher or lower elevations or going south or north, to find "ideal". On this trip we simply have not been able to get it quite right, moving from sweltering to shivering throughout most days. We'd head up off the coast to escape the cold seashore fog, and bake. We'd go back down to the beach to escape the heat, and freeze. We've turned into crazy yo-yos of discontent.

Add mosquitoes to the equation and the complexity intensifies. In the woods the mosquitoes fiercely attack, leaving red welts on top of red welts. During the night I turn into a crazy whirling maniac with fits of itching. To avoid more bites we hide out in Thistle, but that is confining and hot, plus the mosquitoes still sneak in. Sleeping with even one mosquito in Thistle is challenging and hearing the telltale buzzing, I dive under the blanket. Waking up hot and sweaty, I throw off the blanket to cool off, but soon I am chilled, so seek cover again. Throughout, the mosquitoes feast. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

And then, what were we thinking? The crowds of August vacationers caught us off guard. We have done so much traveling in the off season, we had somehow misplaced our recollection of summer vacationers. People are as thick as the mosquito bites on my body, overflowing the beaches, highways, ferries, coffee shops, and campgrounds. The people we've encountered are quite lovely, there are just way too many for my spoiled country ways. I avoid Langley in the summer, and definitely stay away from Seattle, why did I think Vancouver Island would be different?

And finally, change has unexpectedly caught me in its grip. I anticipated finding the small, quaint towns I remembered from 30 plus years ago changed but not too changed. Ha. Take Sooke. This tiny town I stopped at when cycling the Galloping Goose all those many years ago is no longer tiny. Sooke has sprawled every which way and is plagued with bumper to bumper traffic. I am critical of people's resistance to change in the political world, yet here I am trapped in my own mindset of "what it was" in the physical world.

We have seen many wonderful parts of Vancouver Island and greatly enjoyed many of our destinations, but as vacations go I was caught off guard enough to examine my ideal. I was forced into self reflection. Our dear friend, Greg's words rang in my ears: "No expectations, no disappointments."

And, a final word for travel on Vancouver Island -- take a boat!

Any boat…

                           

It's the rugged shorelines and small off shore islands and abundant wildlife and hundreds of lovely little lakes that are the drop dead wonders of this place. A boat enhances the experience, as I know from previous trips, but failed to fully appreciate until I found myself without a boat.

~~~

“Everything that looks too perfect is too perfect to be perfect.”

~ Dejan Stojanovic

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