1970 – and I was stylin’! Most weekends, the Hill family, a complete set of 6 by that year, hit the road touring the historic, interesting, or just plain hot sites and locations of Arizona.
Station wagon, two parents, dog, 4 kids, full gas tank, and off we would go. Funny, I don’t remember seeing any maps. We just seemed to find these fun places. In 1970 I was about 8 and in second grade, so perhaps maps didn’t hit my radar. As long as we made the mandatory stops for pop, chips, a loaf of white bread, and a package of hot dogs, we were happy campers.
I remember Colossal Cave. Not so much the interior, which I am sure was cool and interesting and quite a break from the heat. But the name is clearly imprinted in my memories.
It didn’t matter what we did as a family. The important thing was spending time together, whether we were chasing horned toads (they squirt blood you know!), scaring off rattlesnacks, stopping to pick tortoises off the road (good old Humperdink), or camping at Turkey Creek, we loved hitting the road as much as our parents did.
Or maybe they didn’t enjoy it. With 4 kids and a revolving zoo of pets in a single wide trailer, I bet they HAD to get out of the house on the weekends, for sanity purposes.
Just kidding. We loved exploring. I got that from my dad and my mom.
Excuse me while I grab a loaf of white bread and some hot dogs. Feeling a road trip coming on…
I am out of motorcycle shape! In spite of late afternoon heat and tired backsides, we managed to enjoy 3 different motorcycle rides over the long weekend.
Heading south on the Yakama Indian Reservation
Mt. Adams
Wild horses
1. Friday night, we helmeted up and rode south on Highway 97, turned right on Lateral A, and continued out to White Swan. I’ve always love this ride, having spent nearly 30 years living in the lower valley. At White Swan, we followed Signal Peak Road up to the end of the public road. The round trip was nearly 100 miles and gorgeous. We saw wild horses, but only 10 or so, less than normal; plus wild horse rib cages and assorted bits. A bald eagle perched on a bluff (we suspect dead bodies for tasty snacks were somewhere close, per the nose turning odors), and when we stopped to stretch, we were nearly swarmed by huge black bees. They seemed hungry and ready for fresh meat. Maybe they were a type of wasp instead. Mt. Adams beamed white amidst blue skies and fluffy clouds and the entire valley was in full production – orchards, vineyards, planted fields, cattle, and much more.
2. Saturday we took a longer ride, almost 200 miles, spanning most of the day. We drove north through the Yakima River Canyon, one of our favorite drives. Bald eagles, deer, bighorn sheep, and hordes of those two-legged campers, fishers, and recreating humans gave us company for the ride. In Ellensburg, we stopped for coffee. Then we followed Highway 10 to Cle Elum, barely hanging on when we encountered bridge repairs! The first one had us riding air, but after that we were prepared. We continued through Cle Elum, Roslyn, and Ronald, until we reached the end of the road and Salmon la Sac. The Cle Elum River was noisy and rolling due to snow melt. That did not deter campers from wading! Brr. On our return home, we stopped for lunch at The Brick (Roslyn) and searched out a rose-flavored dark chocolate treat at the Roslyn Candy Company. We backtracked a bit, looped along the Thorp Highway, and returned to the Yakima Valley returned through the canyon.
Highway 241
3. Monday we were up and out early, due to expected high temps later in the day. We took the slow road – Yakima Valley Highway – towards the lower valley. This is such a pretty drive through orchards, farms, and small communities. We went as far south as Sunnyside, then took Highway 241 over the top of the hills to Highway 24, which led us back to Yakima. Along the Yakima River, I saw several cranes and a block of whirling pelicans. A stalking coyote was circling a herd of black cows who were grazing way out in the middle of nowhere. Yikes! I shook my finger at him, but I don’t think it helped. Babies were everywhere – foals, calves, lambs, kids. This ride was shorter than the other days, but a great outing.
Heading into the Yakima River Canyon
Let’s talk about smell-o-vision. This is a real thing on motorcycles. What you see, or don’t see, you will smell. The good, the bad, the ugly. Mint, flowers, freshly cut hay, hops, dust, horses, fast food restaurants. The list of good-to-smell is unending. The bad? Think cow poop, skunks, diesel exhaust, asphalt, smoke, garbage. The ugly? Dead stuff. I know they are ugly because I can smell them and it is not pretty! While some road kill is evident alongside the road, others lurk mysteriously out of sight. But not out of nose.
What’s the trade-off for the icky smells? Wonderful fresh air, the joy of wind blowing along your body, and rolling scenery. It’s worth every smell and bug splatter.
The most hopeful of seasons, spring, lies in wait, gathering herself in preparation to leap into the exploding fray of growth, buzzing with energy and promise.
Princess Autumn is happy to show off an antique gown.
The title says it all. Here is Autumn, our princess. She’s not 100-years-old, but 9 months, and comes complete with teeth, crawling agility skills, and potential for climbing.
Autumn is sporting a 100+-year-old cotton dress. Notice the intricate stitching and detail as she chews on her hair brush. See the tiny buttons stitched to the opening on the back of the dress. Allow your gaze to appreciate the length of the long dress and long sleeves. For posing and walking, this ankle length gown is divine. For crawling, gnawing, and drooling, maybe not so perfect. Over 100 years ago, this antique gown was handcrafted by a loving and skilled female member of the family. I adore vintage.
Throwback Thursday welcomes Princess Autumn, which is kind of ironic, as she has not even had that many Thursdays…yet.
Shouldn’t have eaten that last donut. No longer a size 7.5.
Sigh.
(Reblogged from 2010)
In honor of those pets we’ve loved and lost. Meet Annabelle, who was spending time with mommy and trying to nonchalantly fit inside her box. Miss you, my beautiful tuxedo cat fur baby.
A childhood song came dancing through my mind this morning, singing to the new year and new beginnings. After several days of reading blog posts and emails about New Year resolutions and words for the year, my thoughts were certainly considering all things new.
Isn’t it wonderful to have a fresh start? Why can’t we do that every day, all year long? Every January, I find myself more energized and committed to my goals and dreams, yet from past experiences (years upon years), I’m pretty sure I will experience fatigue and begin to prune my high expectations. Or at least forget my word of the year (which I have yet to discover). Life will interfere, changes will happen, and by the end of the year, those beginning plans will have fallen by the wayside or will have been altered so much they barely resemble original thoughts.
That’s ok, though, really. We cannot foresee the twists and turns of life, so wisdom would dictate that we make adjustments and refine our goals, dreams, plans.
Fresh resolutions every morning would be much more manageable.
Write. Read. Learn. Love. Do.
A basic plan, a few words, doable. Perhaps too broad, but easy to adjust each day. And the perfect-for-me way to enjoy new mornings every day as the sun rises.
The original fresh start and new beginnings?
“The faithful love of the LORD never ends! His mercies never cease. Great is his faithfulness; his mercies begin afresh each morning.” Lamentations 3:22-23 (NLT)
and
“Then He who sat on the throne said, ‘Behold, I make all things new.’ And He said to me, ‘Write, for these words are true and faithful.’” Revelation 21:5 (NKJV)
Care to join me in a fresh new beginning each morning?
Karen Witemeyer penned similar well-crafted thoughts about new beginnings. You can find her at Inspired by Life and Fiction.
The snow that has fallen would easily reach the second step, but diligent shoveling makes finding the welcome mat possible!
The welcome mat is out. Snow covered. But out.
Bundle up, jump in the one-horse open sleigh, and drive over the river and through the woods to Nana’s house. I mean Nana and Papa’s RV.
First, we’ll visit and catch-up. Of course, in our tiny space, this may require sitting in shifts or booting a cat off the chair. Speaking of cats, the floating fur is free.
For the exercise portion of our gathering, shall we shovel some snow? As it seems to fall continuously, there are a couple of acres ready for your attention. We’ll add in a bit of slip-sliding our way up the hill to the irrigation ditch, view the wildlife, and sled back down into the pasture.
To conclude our fun times together, toasty hot tea or coffee and perhaps a snack or two shall be served.
As we wave you out of sight, know our hearts and RV are warmer and happier. Thanks for stopping by. Hope to see you again soon.
Just aim for the welcome mat.
The Christmas tree that shall stand in place until probably March – or until the snow melts enough to get to the base. It’s still beautiful, so I shall enjoy it until then!
Love, Laughter, and Life 