Thoughts on an Oregon Road Trip

Once a year I visit my mom, my sister and her family in Oregon. Flying is an expensive and hasslesome way to travel, so I choose to drive the 750 miles. I can haul stuff in my our pick-’em-up truck, not stand in lines, have transportation when I arrive, AND set my own schedule. (We aren’t going to address the price of gas, which runs $1.50-$2.00 less per gallon in Oregon AND someone else will actually put the gas in for you!)

For some reason, this year I found the drive to be quite boring until I was well north of Sacramento. In previous years, I have enjoyed the scenery of the Central Valley, all the agriculture, and open spaces. This year I just wanted to get into the rolling hills with oaks, the way things look as you approach Red Bluff and then beyond.

Five audio books from the library (on CD, because my our pick-’em-up truck is a 2003—you got a problem with that??) were on the passenger seat. I tried to listen to As I Lay Dying by William Faulkner because I’ve never read his work. Nope. Repetitive mindless conversations by unexplained characters caused me to quit after the first CD. I switched to Rise and Shine by Anna Quindlen, which held my attention far better.

Last year I drove the entire distance in one day on the longest day of the year. This year I have been feeling less robust, so I stopped in the quaint but sad little town of Weed, named after Abner Weed, a lumber man. The Hi-Lo Motel is charming and has a great cafe. The room was very basic, lacking a microwave, a fridge, and most shocking of all, it lacked a coffee maker. (The sign on the mirror warns against monetary penalties for smoking in the room including marij. in its forbidden substances, because after all, this is the town of Weed.)

The cafe had good food and bad spelling.

Before settling in for the evening, I took a walk around their downtown. I have done that in the past, and once again was struck by the beautiful sidewalks, newly planted trees, hanging flower baskets, and empty buildings. I noticed thrift shops, real estate offices, dispensaries, liquor stores, 2 very small banks, and most buildings with broken or open windows in an upper story.

There were some newer homes on a hill, and some very well-kept older homes in a few downtown blocks. Mt. Shasta was visible from many places on my walk.

Everyone I talked to who lived and worked in Weed was kind, helpful, unhurried, and genuinely friendly. I asked one person what kept people in town, thinking about employment. She said a lumber mill, the Crystal Geyser bottling plant, travelers, a community college, and of course, those dispensaries.

The next morning at 6 (I was eager to reach Salem), I walked to the Valero gas station and “food mart” (meaning processed convenience fake food) for coffee, and the very kind clerk didn’t charge me! (I had my own mug—did that matter?)

Then, I hit the road for the last 300-miles, a picturesque quick trip compared to the first part of the road trip to Oregon. My destination was Salem, the capital city.

Quick Trip

In my ongoing attempts to understand why my feet are numb, I went to see a Big Deal neurologist. She was informative, thorough, and honest about the fact that 50% of people with peripheral neuropathy never learn the cause or make it go away. Lots of blood was drawn for many tests; more will be revealed in the fullness of time.

The weather was perfect. Everything was beautiful. Everything was expensive.

I mitigated the medical nature of the trip with a little sightseeing to something that I have enjoyed since fourth grade. It took the edge off of the assault of freeways, a city, and all the accompanying stressors.

In fourth grade I built a version of the Santa Barbara mission using milk cartons covered in inside-out paper grocery bags, complete with little bells borrowed from my mom’s Christmas decorations. It was totally boss.

Some of these photos might be fun for my drawing students to work from. They are often on my mind, particularly during our 2 month summer break. And some of these might make nice paintings, but I tend to focus on local subjects, since my customers are primarily local.

I don’t mind. Freeways and cities are for other people. They can stay there, and I will occasionally visit, and probably stop at Trader Joe’s, because we will never get one in Tulare County.

Cabin Time at Hume Lake

This is a cabin. It’s a real cabin, not a fancy house in the mountains.

This is a pair of socks on the needles. Instead of spending hours walking around the lake, I got in some knitting.
My friend has a quirky sense of humor. This is in her front yard.

We didn’t just sit around the cabin. We had to figure out why the BBQ wouldn’t light and why it smelled so strongly of propane that the Hume Lake Fire Department showed up at 11:30 one night, sniffing around to find the problem. The next day, two of us spent a couple of hours cleaning the BBQ, then refilled the tank, which solved all the problems.

And we did walk down to the lake a few times. The grass was newly planted, just irresistible.

Summer camps for kids hadn’t yet begun, so the whole place was very calm and quiet.

Even the office has tremendous curb appeal. The entire place is well-maintained, landscaped, and ultra-friendly. (And it has electricity, working telephones, wifi at some of the private cabins, paved roads, and a fire department.) It isn’t Mineral King, but it has its own appeal, and still retains common cabin community characteristics.

The route home went back through Sequoia National Forest and Sequoia National Park. I left early enough to not have to deal with a ton of traffic, except for hoards heading up the hill once I was past Giant Forest. These are two attempts to get photos for painting.

OF COURSE I won’t paint in the speed limit sign. But I think the light on this tree was worth a quick stop.

Tomorrow we will return to watching paint land on canvases.

Short Tour of Hume Lake

Compared to Mineral King, Hume Lake is a city. It is a city with some subdivisions I didn’t know about, in spite of having spent 1-1/2 summers living and working there, along with a handful of days each year for the past 7 summers. It is a growing city.

Let’s ease into our Hume Lake photos with a wild blue flax photo.

Instead of small rustic cabins that house 12 girls, with a little outdoor trek to a bathroom, THIS GIANT BUILDING holds 8 “cabins”, each housing 12 girls, each “cabin” with its own fancy bathroom. THIS IS NOT CAMPING, PEOPLE! Well, staying in rustic cabins wasn’t exactly camping either, but holy guacamole! I counted 6 of these buildings, and that was just for the girls. I didn’t see where the boys stay. Maybe they have all those rustic little cabins that used to be for the girls. I had no idea this section was at Hume.

There is even a skate park, which wasn’t quite set up yet. Skateboarding at summer camp in the mountains wasn’t even an inkling of an idea when I used to love summer camp (not at Hume—there was another camp in my life.)

This is all too much for my simple old-fashioned self to take in. Let’s just take a walk around the lake, shall we?

Hume’s geography always confuses me because the dam
drains to the east instead of to the west.

Do I show you the same photos every year? I am always amazed by the abundance of the wild iris, love to walk around the lake, love to see the other wildflowers, and see the dam.

This year my feet have betrayed me, so I am thankful to have gotten in one walk. The rest of the time was spent hanging out at the cabin. I’ll show you some of that Monday.

I Could Paint This

A friend from childhood inherited a cabin at Hume Lake. In 2018, she invited me to join her and another friend for several days. We had such a wonderful time together that she has invited me back each summer since.

Every time I go, I choose a different route to get there. My favorite is to go through Sequoia, then take Ten-Mile Road to Hume. Some years the road has been closed, so I take my second favorite route, which is Dry Creek Road to Hogback to 245. This year 245 is closed.

So, this year I went through the Park both directions, in spite of road construction below Giant Forest and some logging activities in the Forest Service stretch.

There were beautiful wildflowers and flowing water. Even the dogwood was still in bloom, but the flowers were never near a turnout. My destination was Hume Lake, so I didn’t pursue the flowers.

Let’s take a tour.

This is the middle fork of the Kaweah River with Moro Rock appearing to tower higher than Alta Peak. It’s an illusion. Might make a nice painting, doncha think?
When I was a kid, the road went beneath Tunnel Rock. No mas. I could paint this, but not sure anyone would care.
Through the windshield is never an ideal way to take photos. But, this is another triumph of hope over experience. I could paint from this inferior photo.
If I was still using a film camera, I would declare this shot of the Sentinel Tree a waste of film. However, I could paint from this.
I photographed the Marble Fork bridge last fall when the water was almost nil. This would make a nicer painting.
Not painting this. Since 2015, there have been 3 devastating wildfires in Sequoia and Kings Canyon. I’ve lost track of which fire wrecked which areas.

Ten-Mile Road was a mess last year. This year it is a dream—a skateboarder would have loved the beautiful asphalt. Asphalt isn’t a subject that interests me for painting. Prolly doesn’t interest you either.

We have reached our destination! I could paint this, but it isn’t in Tulare County, and I’m unsure of my market having an interest.

Hume Lake

Monday I’ll show you some photos of my time at Hume.

Eighteen Things I Learned in Texas

I learned so many interesting things in Texas about the culture, history, and of course, wildflowers. Here is more, this time in list form. There is even more I could add, but I expect you have a life. Much of it appeared in my Texas travelogue posts: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six.

COWHIDES IN THE GROCERY STORE?? Yeppers. (The grocery store, called H E B, was ENORMOUS, of course.)

2. Prepping for and laying sod is an enormous amount of labor. Now I know how to do this.

3. Ever seen a 3-D printer? Fascinating. It uses coils of plastic, much like what is in a weed-eater, and follows a preset program.

In about 1-1/2 hours you can have this little item in your hand. (A plastic shark wasn’t what I had pictured for a souvenir of my time in Texas!)

4. Harvester ants are really interesting—their “hill” is huge, and they wear paths in the soil in their labors. They are red and bite, but not nearly as bad as fire ants.

5. This poor photo is of a castle, built next door to friends of my friends. You can read about it here: Unknown Castle.

6. Gas was so much cheaper! (It’s hitting $6/gallon in Three Rivers now.)

7. The speed limit on the freeway was 75. Is it that high in California? If I went anywhere besides Visalia or Exeter, I might know the answer.

8. These are the funniest squishy Tupperware containers I’ve ever seen. N was surprised by my ignorance; I reminded her that we attended a Tupperware party together in the 1980s and told her I hadn’t paid any attention to the stuff since then.

9. Speaking of convenience stores, there is an ENORMOUS truck stop chain in Texas called “Buc-ees“; the mascot is a beaver with buck teeth. It is HUGE. Jee-um asked me how I liked their convenience stores, and of course I replied that everything is bigger in Texas.

10. N and I had fun working our way through a few watercolor exercises in the neatest little book, designed for the purpose of practicing watercolor. (I won’t be switching from oils—it was just for fun.)

11. I relearned how much fun pingpong is.

12. This is the brightest caterpillar I’ve ever seen. I didn’t look it up.

Food

13. I had venison for the first time in many years; also had brisket, which is meat cooked for a very long time; they call it BBQ if it has red sauce on it, the kind that is sort of sweet, which we call “bottled BBQ sauce” around here.

14. My friends (with the sod project) asked me if I liked queso. I said, “Well, that’s Español for cheese, and I love cheese.” Wrong answer. It is a cheesy dip for tortilla chips, just downright scary good.

15. Instead of root beer floats, they often serve Dr. Pepper floats, because Dr. Pepper was invented in Waco.

16. I ate something exceedingly good called “Texican Tamale”. It was at a restaurant called “Mickey B’s”, which apparently is where Randy Travis likes to hang out.

17. Boiled peanuts do NOT sound appetizing, but they are pretty common fare in Texas convenience stores.

18. Finally, I learned how very dear my Texas friends are to me. Travel is such a series of inconveniences, and as I was fixin’ to go, I questioned why I thought it was even necessary, or if it would be worth all the trouble.

It was.

P.S. The seller of the Texas mug refunded my money and then sent me a replacement. Yikes, it is ugly (offends my inner color junkie) and I don’t want it!

The blue on the Texas is faded and pink looks so wrong.
The blue is beautiful and perfect with the interior of the mug.

Central California Artist in Texas, Chapter 6

N and I planned my visit to Texas around when she thought the bluebonnets would be in bloom. When she said the end of April, I thought, “Wow, that wildflower season is later than in Central California”. I was glad that it was later, because it meant I would be in Three Rivers through most of our green season and the wildflowers.

Alas, the bluebonnets peaked at the end of March. While I was disappointed, I couldn’t throw it all together to move my visit to a sooner date. I adjusted my expectations downward, knowing the main point of the trip was to see my friends.

Was I ever surprised by the greenery and the wildflowers!

There were bluebonnets, just not entire fields.
Winecups, in the poppy family. I also found a deep purple version but my photos were blurry.

I could go on and on about these wildflowers, but maybe you’re about Texased out. I might could* do another post, Things I Learned in Texas. I might oughta* do one. I might even be *fixin’ to do that.

*Texas speak, practicing so I don’t furgit.

Central California Artist in Texas, Chapter 5

Oh my stars!

Texas is the Lone Star State, and boy howdy are they proud of that star and that nickname, which actually only became official a few years ago. Texas was a sovereign nation for about 10 years, and they are the only state with the audacity to fly their flag at a height equal to the American flag. This isn’t always done, but I did see it several times.

This was taken through the car window as we were passing on the freeway, so it appears as if the American flag is higher simply because of the perspective.

I started a quest to find all the stars that I could. After awhile, I decided that enough was enough.

Flags were also prevelant.

N said that this town has flags lining the streets on all patriotic holidays.

“Don’t mess with Texas” is a frequently seen motto. This means don’t mess with their flag, their star, or their traditions. The phrase was coined in the mid-’90s to instill pride and get a grip on the excessive litter.

Central California Artist in Texas, Chapter 4

On the way back from Waco, N took different back roads. This time we chose to go through Crawford, where Bush 43 has his ranch. Had his ranch? I don’t know for sure. We didn’t see any sign of the ranch, of course, but I was very surprised by the town.

THIS is city hall?!
Must not have a Works Dept. in Crawford
Someone has some pride in the Bushes.

And there was a mural in town. A very faded mural.

Somewhere we read about a waterfall, and realized we had driven past without noticing it. It had a funny name: Tonkawa Falls.

It was accessed through a park, which had a closed gate on one side but was open on the other. We hadn’t noticed the park because of the wildflowers across the street. Check out #9 on the sign at the park.

This is the part I loved.

We stopped for a few more wildflower photos.

The other thing that really impressed me in rural Texas counties was the very imposing and formal architecture of the county courthouses.

I hope you are enjoying a look at Texas through the eyes of your Central California artist. There will be 2 or 3 more chapters, before we return to watching paint dry.

Central California Artist in Texas, Chapter 3

When N and I were planning my visit to Texas, I asked if she had ever visited The Silos, AKA Magnolia, in Waco. She had not, and we decided to make the 1-1/2 hour trip to this tourist destination. Have you ever watched Fixer-Upper? Chip and Joanna Gaines have transformed the city of Waco with this place to hang out, play games, shop, eat, and just enjoy the atmosphere. I have enjoyed their books and seeing them fix up homes, along with the fun way they interact.

N wisely chose backroads to Waco, and wasn’t at all averse to stopping any time I exploded with a “OH MY GOODNESS!!”

It was a thrill to see those *big ol’ silos in person. So silly, they are just giant worn out tanks, good for nothing but as a landmark. I don’t go many places or do much, but when I do, I am thrilled. (No, I don’t drink Dos Eck-ees; I don’t drink.)

We asked if there were plans for the silos; nope, they are too greasy inside from cottonseed oil, and just too worn out. But there is storage beneath them, and the man told us we might just spot Chip and Joanna inside if we peeked in underneath. So we did.

N and I inspected each store, finding very little that seemed worth the money, since we are both of an age where we don’t want any stuff. But anything we do together is fun, so we poked around.

Well, okay I did buy one thing. When I was traveling, a zipper-pull on my tote bag broke off. Look what I found in one of the stores:

Why would a store think that there would be a market for monogramed brass zipper pulls??

What I liked best was the architecture of the old church that the Gaineses moved onto the property. It doesn’t function as a church, and I don’t know what its purpose is, other than to delight the visitor.

Besides seeing the church, I was so pleased that we were there when the magnolias were in peak form.

I *might could go back, but would pick a day when I could walk across the Bosque River that goes through town, maybe visit the Dr. Pepper museum, take a tour of one of the fixed up houses, and even eat in the Magnolia restaurant called The Table.

*I learned to speak Texan and will demonstrate occasionally here for your laughing pleasure.

P.S. When I got home, I was shocked to discover that I have those brilliant wildflowers planted in pots near my studio. Why did I not remember this when we were passing fields full of them??