I went to bed Saturday night with the wind
chimes wildly tinkling a musical tune … and woke up to rain Sunday morning; so,
I didn’t know if Sunday~Funday would be happening, or not.
But, by 9 AM, the rain had stopped, the sun
was out, and the Underground Weather Report was saying it would be in the upper
80’s this afternoon: so, I decided to drive to Longbeach. I’d been hungering
for one of those BIG bakery shoppe dinner-plate-sized donuts :-D
My plan was to get out of Dodge, ignore the
world’s insanity, grab one of those donuts … and drive to Chinook to eat it at
Middle Village while sitting there, watching the ocean waves. That thought
actually was freaking me out because it’s like I’ve taken on Bob’s personality
since he graduated to Heaven: water was Bob’s thing; water freaks me
out. I don’t like it; water’s not my thing – I prefer being in the
mountains, But … I can’t get into the mountains right now. So, I went to watch
the ocean waves. And was hoping none of the ocean waves would come over the big
boulder sea wall that flanks the highway running through Chinook.
Going with the flow ...
Longbeach, WA from Heron Pointe,
WA - 1 hr.27 mins.
Feeling the chill in Cathlamet. In retrospect ... I should have turned around here, and gone back home.
I bought a hot dog at Johnson’s One Stop Shell Station in Naselle.
For 44 years (and even longer for Bob), hot dogs were bought here when we passed this way.
Ocean Beach Highway to Longbeach; through Chinook access.
Geese & derelict old boats.
Boulder wave breaks at Chinook; along Ocean Beach Highway.
When we were dating - and before it was illegal to do so, Bob would honk all the
way through the tunnel under Fort Columbia compound – whether on the Harley (rev it up; make it bark) or in the '56 Ford pickup (honk long and loud). It
was ear-splitting … but it was fun too ;-)
Tunnel under Fort Columbia Compound: can’t honk horns anymore because it compromised the compound foundation above.
Bob & the '56 Ford. I loved that man ... and that truck.
The tricked-out Harley. It was a sweet ride ;-)
Bob’s childhood home in Illwaco. It’s been added to, and revamped over the decades.
1964. Bob & his Dad on the family boat in Illwaco.
Bob’s mother says Bob ruined the family
vacation to Yellowstone, when he cut his head diving into the hotel’s swimming
pool – my mother said I ruined the family vacation to Longbeach when I sliced
my knee on a broken beer bottle hid in the sand dune.
The old hospital building in Illwaco. There is a newer hospital now - a little further up the road from this old building.
Our parents were disgusted with both of us;
simply for being children. As the oldest children in both families, we weren’t
allowed to make mistakes like our younger siblings: we had “to set the example”
… like the whole family nucleus depended on us alone. It was a heavy burden to
place on our young shoulders. All our lives Bob & I grew up thinking we
were misfits and trouble makers: we were pleasantly surprised to find, when
we met/fell in love/got married, that we were okay people that deserved
some happiness out of life.
And that’s why for 44 years, we went easy on
each other.
Bob’s motto was, “shit happens; don’t sweat it.”
We were quick forgivers with each other – healing each other with unconditional
love and acceptance as we grew up together, and made our marriage strong; and
our life a good one.
His children could learn that
lesson … they seem eager to forgive and embrace everyone
else, but they are – both – hostile and unforgiving with us, their
parents. It’s sad that they are so consumed with hate and bitterness over
assumptions seen through a child’s eye; and in Alex’s case, through his mother’s
angry biases towards his father. 51 and 46 – and still behaving like unruly brats
over situations they have blown out of proportion to fit their “truths”.
Just sad.
When I reached Longbeach, and found a parking
space (only possible because most people are still too scared to leave their
home bunkers), I saw a few people out and about, but it still resembled a
ghost town: the normal hustle and bustle was not apparent.
It was a little nippy when I got out of the
car; but, not uncomfortably so. It actually felt pretty good because it was so
stinking humid – my hair was plastered to my forehead from the mugginess as I
walked through main street, so the breeze kinda counteracted the sticky
humidity. But it was dismal: there was no blue sky, heavy sea fog hung over
the area – not enough to hamper vision, but more like a wet blanket
suspended overhead.
My 2 donuts cost me $6.25 … and the sales
girl charged me $6.25/tip: I got the tip back – and I don’t think I’ll be
going back. Tips should be optional; that they aren’t at the bakery is not okay
with me. For a cashier to just automatically add it to the tally is
outright theft – and to take a tip the size of the order is criminal as
far as I am concerned.
That whole money-grabbing-setup sucked.
I don’t think automatic tipping was going on
last time Bob & I were there in 2014.
The Longbeach Amusement Park was open.
The Bumper Cars were thumping and bumping …
The Bakery was open.
OVER EXCESSIVE ((((TIP))))!
And pedestrians were jumping out on front of
vehicles to get across the street; it was a little stressful to drive down main
street. There weren’t big crowds … Longbeach was actually pretty empty, though
were some people out and about; but it was tricky dodging drunk and stoned
pedestrians – there are several bars along main street, and marijuana is legal
now: deadheads and drunks are prevalent. Drivers really have to keep their eyes
peeled, and their wits about them; because the pedestrians are drinking and
smoking … and they aren’t paying attention. If a driver hits a careening or
jack-in-the-box-stoner … they will be the one at fault; not the drunk or
deadhead – it won’t matter that they jumped in front of your moving vehicle.
It’s an unfair Law, but that’s how it is.
The thieving Bakery, and the death-courting
pedestrians behind me; I headed towards Chinook to sit in the sun, watch the
waves, and eat my donut at the Middle Village viewing platform.
I passed through Illwaco, but did not find
the marina – so, I’ll have to go back. I don’t know when I’ll be going
back, but I know I will. The marina is important: as soon as Bob could work, he
worked there for years – I think, until he graduated High School. It was a
steady summer job, and he got a man’s full pay because he could do every job
that needed getting done: he was invaluable.
That’s how it was back then … the oldest kids
worked jobs; the younger siblings enjoyed the summer months. Bob worked on
chuck boats; I babysat and worked in the kitchen at the local Nursing Home –
without my expressed desire to do either: my mother just came home one night
from work, and said, “so and so wants you to babysit all summer while she works”.
No discussion; no debate. I went. Later, she came home from work, and said, “You
start work Saturday at the Nursing Home”. That was it; she had made the deal,
and it was done. Our siblings went swimming, rode bikes, went to slumber parties
(or fishing ventures), and generally raised hell all summer. Bob and I
had days off that we could enjoy. Maybe.
Our kids never had to work: Bob provided a
good income to get them what they needed; even if they didn’t always get what
they wanted. And they wanted. Alex didn’t work; at all … he sat on his scrawny
pampered duff and waited for his child support check to arrive, and told
me that I should get a job so he could get more in his monthly check;
and Stacey chose to work a few months before she left home in a cloud of emancipated
blue smoke, at 16.
Society’s children living train-wrecked lives.
No, Bob & I have nothing to apologize to
either about.
When I drove through Chinook on my way to
Middle Village, I saw the Chinook County Park Sign – and nipped in to check it
out.
Chinook, WA from Longbeach, WA - 14 minutes
Chinook County Park is a very small strip of land along the Columbia Bar area.
I should have taken the Cape Disappointment loop … but I didn’t know to do that. Now I do ;-)
Cape Disappointment area shrouded in Sea Fog. I called the Cape Disappointment Office this morning, and was told everything is doable there; except the Interpretive Center. So, I'll punch the address in the GPS, and go one of these days :-D
While I was looking toward where Cape Disappointment
was in the distance, I saw something in the water that piqued my curiosity –
Bob would have known what it was … but I am not Bob. I had to zoom my camera
lens out as far as it would go to find out what it was.
A ship coming up the channel.
North Jetty: I have been on it once with Bob & Precious ... I never want to go back. It was scary.
The Columbia River water was very close to the Park boundary. I was glad Sunday was a low tide day. I was glad the water was calm.
Seagull on a lonely perch.
Chinook Country Park Historical Plaque.
Ship in channel turned for Port, and avoiding old pilings (zoomed to the max on my digital camera).
I followed a rugged trail around the riverside perimeter of the Park.
Beach debris. Where did it come from; and what does the lettering mean?
It was a very short walk; this was the last time I saw this mileage counter (though I did not know it at the time).
I always liked walking through the fancy buildings
and the old cement bunkers of Fort Columbia; so, I thoughts I’d stop there for
a bit … NO GO: a Discovery Pass mis required now; and it can’t be
purchased on site. I didn’t see a cash options either – only card service.
I had cash, but not the Visa required. That sucked. Washington State has gone
to hell with demoncrats in high seats that ax everything and suck the joy in
enjoyment right out of life.
Fort Columbia State Park.
Fort Columbia Historical Plaque
WTH? ... I drove uphill to purchase one: but, you can't buy the Pass onsite. It’s a freaking joke – most State Parks allow purchase of the Discovery Pass onsite.
Fort Columbia buildings. Really cool inside ...
Fort Columbia Bunkers.
So, I drove back down the long winding drive,
and went on my way to Middle Village.
When I finally made Middle Village, I grabbed
my donut box, my cola, and the camp chair I had thrown in the backend of the
Horizon before I pulled out of the driveway at home. I was planning on sitting
in the sunshine, on the viewing platform, and remembering the last time Bob
& I were here in 2014.
Chinook Middle Village Historical Plaque.
Vindication: Indians DID practice slavery – regardless of how they want to spin the practice. ALL the biased and tweaked racial bullshit from black racists, and native indian racists, needs to STOP. Slavery is slavery. Blacks has slaves ... muslims still do; and American Indians had slaves.
The world under special interest groups backed by demoncrats is definitely out of balance: there’s too many “me”’s … and not enough “we”’s.
June 30th, 2014. Middle Village, Chinook. Bob was such a peacenik. I miss his peaceful nature right now in this time of global insanity; more specifically, the blm socialist and communist undoing of America.
June 30th, 2014. Middle Village, Chinook. Hand-carved Chinook canoes.
July 30th, 2014. Middle Village, Chinook. Bob liked being up there on that viewing platform.
June 19th, 2020. I walked up the ramp to the platform, & quickly set up to enjoy the moment of remembrance with my tasty donuts … and just as quickly took it down when the moment was rudely interrupted.
I had just gotten settled and was slicing
into my donut, when I saw a small Nissan like car drive by and throw
firecrackers out the rolled down window. I could see the firecrackers explode –
and I assumed they were dancing on the blacktop … but pretty soon I saw smoke.
The fire caught fast in the dried grass and started spreading very quickly. I
could hear the crackle of the spreading flames – even from as far back in the
distance as I was from the fire.
Not only was the grass very dry … but the
historic church is also very dry; and there is driftwood scattered through the
grass, as well as carved wooden canoes. And the ocean winds blowing down the
Columbia Bar are whipping the flames through the dry tinder like whitecap
waves. If the fire kept spreading as it was, everything would go up in flames:
in short order.
My eyes immediately went to the Horizon
because it wasn’t that far away from the spreading fire. I couldn’t afford
to lose that car because some immature jerk decided to give the firefighters
something to do!
I quickly put the donut box down on the deck
and thumbed 911 on the phone’s keypad. The dispatcher wasn’t too interested,
and was kinda snooty, so I said, “Ma’am, one more time; there is a fire
spreading like wildfire out here at Middle Village next to the Church. I saw a
guy drive by and throw firecrackers that caught flame in the high dry grass.
You need to get someone out here.”
Grass fire burning wildly.
In the meanwhile, drivers driving by pulled
over to the side of the road by the seawall boulders and ran across the road looking
for some way to put the flames out. A few men searched the grounds and found a
few old boards they laid across the flames and stomped out by stomping up the
length of the boards. Some people got bottles of water out of their cars and
handed them to the men to douse what they could. One man was using what looked
like a blanket, to slap at the flames. Everyone was worried the church might catch on fire.
July 30th, 2014. A picture I took of the Historic St. Mary McGowan's Catholic Church. Middle Village, Chinook. It doesn't look this pretty in 2020 (the church needs repair and the grass is badly overgrown; but it still matters - it' still History.
I was watching them and my car while gathering
up my things and packing the camp chair into it’s carry bag. I kept my ears
tuned to the sirens I hoped would show up – the dispatcher gave me an uneasy
feeling; she seemed unconcerned.
When I got everything packed up, I carried it
back to the Horizon; and waited. I remembered being told that if you witness an
accident, or a crime, you should stick around – especially if you called it in.
So, I stuck around.
Where I was sitting when the fire broke out.
Finally, I heard sirens and 2 fire-station
teams showed up.
25 minutes after the 911 call, fire fighters finally showed up.
Drivers passing by had basically put the fire out themselves ... but there were still s few 'live' firecrackers that were going off now and then.
As well as the sheriff, who looked to be
about 27 years old and about as disinterested as the 911 dispatch woman.
The Sheriff was kinda blasé about the whole thing.
When the grass and surrounding areas were thoroughly
soaked, and the flames were squelched, the quick-thinking/acting drivers got
back into their vehicles and drove away. The sheriff took off; and the
fire-station teams pack their hoses away.
I looked at the charred grass, the boxed
donuts, and thought, “Well … this sucks”.
Pulling out of the Middle Village parking
lot, I saw the Astoria-Megler Bridge, and thought, ‘I really need to slay that
dragon’.
Psyching myself into crossing that beast of a bridge …
MAP Astoria, OR from Chinook, WA
- 16 mins.
I can do this ... I have to do this.
My hands were aching when I finally exited that thing in Astoria. The longest 4 miles of my life!
Heron Pointe, WA from Astoria, OR - 1 hr.5 mins
Heading home on the backside of Astoria, I
saw the Bowpicker, and thought, “Why not?” It was Suppertime, and I like
fish and chips; and we’d thought often of stopping and getting some: we never
did because we were always pushed for time for one reason or another: but
Sunday I DID ;-)
Some people wore masks … most did not.
I did not.
Those that did, pulled their masks down to
smoke, drink, or talk. The masks were worthless if they were compromised. But
brainwashed lemmings do not understand that simple fact.
Supper at the Bowpicker in Astoria.
A little humor standing in line … gulls were flying overhead and it just struck my finny bone :-D
OR State mandate was posted under the rocking gull.
Bowpicker Menu & Prices.
After an hour’s wait in line, I was slowly but surely gaining grouond.
My tailgate fish-n-chips Supper. All in remembrance of Bob – he talked enough about the place, so I thought about him as I ate; I got the rootbeer because he would have. I’ve never drank so much soda pop in my whole life!
I ate the food, but I thought, ‘Well,
Babe, you didn’t miss much. It is cheap fish ‘n chips. It is Skippers Brand
stuff I could have bought at Winco; so, I won’t be stopping here again – but I
had to today because I was thinking of you all day. It cost the same as fish ‘n
chips at Kerby’s; but it was not as good as Kerby’s – and only a fraction of
what we got at Kerby’s. You didn’t miss much’.
While I was munching, an ambulance flew by. From
Illwaco to Astoria, ambulances, fire trucks, and rescue vehicles were out in
force Sunday afternoon. About every other mile, traffic was scattered to the
sides of the roadways as the emergency vehicles plowed through the center
lanes.
It was a crazy BUSY Sunday.
And I left home for a little relaxation!
Finished eating, I drove along, thinking and
hoping Bradley State Scenic Viewpoint would be open. That place is a
traditional pitstop – Bob and I had been stopping there for 44 years: this is
the first year it’s been closed.
It was open!
So, I nipped in there and walked around the perimeters;
looked out over Puget Island and Cathlamet across the river, watched people
drive in with their picnic hampers and eat at the various picnic tables spread
out around the place – and remembered a lot about our times there.
What is the purpose?
I laughed at the memory of how I wanted to get married here. I was 17 … it seemed like a good idea ;-)
In the 1970’s outdoor weddings in a natural setting were the very “in” thing to do if you loved nature like I love nature: Bob said no.
I still think it would have been a fun thing to do ;-)
As I was putting my camera away, switching my
hiking shoes for sandals again, and putting the hand sanitizer back inside my
purse, I saw that my mileage counter was not in its usual place: I didn’t see
it anywhere. I frantically checked my pockets and dug around in my backpack
purse over and over and over again like some obsessive-compulsive-dimwit
… I tore the interior of the car apart searching for it.
It was no use. It was gone.
I had lost my mileage counter somewhere between Chinook and
Bradley State Scenic Viewpoint.
I was shaking when I pulled out of Bradley.
How could I have lost it?
Where had I lost it?
I was physically sick thinking of one more loss in 19 months of continual loss … and I had to pull over to the side of the road,
where I just broke down and cried like my life had come to an end.
One more thing from my life with Bob that is irreplaceably gone.
I was inconsolable for a few minutes.
Being a Widow sucks.
There were a lot of things happening yesterday; the loss of the mileage counter was the straw that broke the camel’s back …
I don’t like losing; and lately I’ve lost a LOT.
This is what being a Widow is like: small things become big overwhelming things that can suck the life right out of your day and put you right back at Square #1 in the Grief Cycle.
I dried my eyes and bought another mileage
counter when I got back on home turf; but it is not the same.
The new milage counter.
I want the one Bob gifted to me.
I want … I want ... I want ...
It does no good to want.
Widowhood sucks.
And yesterday’s Sunday~Funday pretty much
sucked too :-(
When I parked in the carport and hauled
everything inside and put the camp chair in the shed, I watered my garden
because it was a little dry; I don’t know what my neighbors thought about me
watering the garden area until 9:30 PM … and I don’t particularly care.
I was
quiet.
I was minding my own business.
I was enjoying the garden boxes Bob made for
me before he ended up in ER in August 2018.
Hopefully, a sucky day like yesterday will
not be a repeat any time soon.
My battered heart needs a rest.
**SUNDAY~FUNDAY POSTS (2020) –
#9 – https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2020_04_27_archive.html (plus 1st thru 8th
SUNDAY~FUNDAY links)**
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