10 posts tagged “roadtripping”
Born between 1785 and 1790, 'tiwi-teqis' (his birth name) came to be the principal leader of the Wallowa Nez Perce. In 1839 he was baptized and christened 'Joseph', a name he carried for the rest of his life, despite later renouncing Christianity. He died in 1871 at the traditional summer camp near the confluence of the Wallowa and Lostine Rivers. The leadership of the band passed to 'hinmato-wyalahyqit', Young Joseph.
Old Joseph was a key player in the 1855 treaty negotiations. In 1863 he refused to sign the "Steal Treaty" which reduced the 1855 reservation by 90% and ceded all of the Wallowa country to the United States.
After his original grave near the present town of Wallowa was robbed twice, Old Chief Joseph was reburied at this cemetery on September 26, 1926.
This 6' statue of doorman duck is in the historic Eugene Hotel foyer. Isn't he cute?
I used to come here as a kid. It's still fresh, clean and pretty.
A for-real sign, in the town of Meaford, Ontario. (the other side of the sign, facing management, invites customers to try the Angus burger)
The eco-spirituality retreat is over now but I have two more days to wander around and explore, so I got a rental car and went north, discovering new territory. (yay! my favorite thing to do)
This is the Georgian Bay of Lake Huron, near Craigleith, Ontario. This giant bay is almost as big as a Great Lake all by itself. Signs along the highway also tell me I am on the Niagara Escarpment.
It has been raining on and off, but the rain stopped just as I reached the shore. I am now at this deserted provincial park.
I love the Great Lakes. I think it may have something to do with being born on the Keewenaw Peninsula, a little peninsula that sticks out into Lake Superior. Something about getting older and being called home. It's definitely peaceful here, and far from the mad rush of Silicon Valley or California. I may need to plan on coming back here on some kind of regular basis.
I wanted to get away for the holiday weekend, to a place that would be quiet and cool. Fort Bragg was ideal for me. It's a broken down, working class, lumber and fishing town north of Mendocino. Nothing is chi-chi, swank, gentrified or yuppified here -- it's all a bit depressed, careworn and threadbare, but "real". I knew of this B&B, The Gray Whale Inn, I had stopped in before but I had never stayed here. This was my opportunity and I loved it. It occupies the old town hospital, originally built in 1910. There are about 15 rooms, and everything is warm, spacious and homey. The ceilings are tall, and the hallways and doorways are all very wide. Every room has the smell and feel of generations of real people's lives.
This was my room -- the Bear Harbor Room -- with a lovely old-time, one-piece "kitchen-like" countertop and sink in the bathroom. The quilt was torn in places, the towels and washclothes a bit frayed, but y'know, things should be used up before being retired or thrown away. I don't trust things that are too sterile, perfect or new - they feel fake, like there's something to hide. So had no problem sleeping under a clean but threadbare old quilt -- it felt like being safe and cosy at grandma's house. I could even see the ocean a little from my window and watch the fog roll in.
Fort Bragg is a one-horse town, with only a few lost hippie shops, a spa, and a couple of nice restaurants in an old cannery. The Gray Whale Inn is within walking distance of what few items of interest there are in town. The famous Skunk Train depot is just two blocks away, you can hear the train whistles coming and going. You can also hop on a Mendocino Transit bus in front of the B&B to go to the harbor or the botanical gardens. I definitely plan to stay here again when I need an affordable break near the ocean in the cool, quiet fog. In clear crisp winter, with gray whales migrating off the coast, it would also be wonderful.
A frivolous treat that I allow myself each week is a drive along the coast to Santa Cruz and a stop at the Kiva Retreat House, where I can enjoy time in a garden, a quiet hot tub or sauna, a stretch in the sun, and maybe a massage. On Sunday mornings it's women only until 1:30 pm. This weekend the weather has been unseasonably gray and cloudy and as a result, there are very few people. So I was able to snap these secret pics, which normally wouldn't be allowed.
Here are some pics of the Ione Hotel, one of my favorite gold country fugitive hideouts. It's also haunted, but not at all in a scary way. I've had a ghost experience there before, with a faucet going on and off by itself. The latest report (this weekend) is that "George" (the main ghost) is still active. He's mainly mischievous, loves women, and prefers blondes -- which is probably why I don't see him too often.
It is the most gorgeous Spring day today, cool, crisp, and brilliant.
I am blessed to live near the wonderful rural coastside community of Pescadero. It's wonderful to be able to get away from the city and out into simpler, slower Nature.
Now, at the end of the day, a pleasant meal at Cetrella, watching cooks cook in wood fired ovens, and eating their delicious, healthy food.
