This Monday started out weird … and was just
flat out frustratingly strange, by the time afternoon was morphing into evening.
I had no desire to go for a drive today.
I was planning on staying home and dinking
around in my garden area.
And I wanted to do some domestic cleaning
around the house. I want to keep the place ‘domestically maintained’; so that
if and when a new home becomes available, all I’ll have to do is sign on the
dotted line … pack up and beat feet for new digs.
But the impression was so strong, that after clearing away the breakfast dishes … I threw up
my hands and said, “Okay! I’ll go!” I quickly washed my hair - letting it air-dry, and pulled on
shorts and a pullover top.
I hadn’t driven up Rose Valley in a while.
I wasn’t sure if it had changed like so many
other rural areas, have.
It was refreshing to see, that though Kalama has
been under socialist leadership for some time … there are still some people
who are not so easy to keyhole.
A road sign said that the road ended 16 miles
ahead.
When I came to the end of the 2-lane highway,
and saw the 1-lane goat trail leading up-Up-Upward … I wasn’t sure if the 16
miles ended at the end of the 2-lane, or continued on with the skinny ribbon of
a road staring me in the face.
Curious to learn why I had been so urgently
prompted to drive this way, I inched forward – praying I would not meet a log
truck along the route.
I actually did not want to meet any other
vehicle, either: there was no where to pull over – the ribbon of a road hugged
the cliffside on one side, and the lip of the road on the other side, dropped
sharply to the river below.
But, I was curious to know why I
had been led this way.
The want to know, intrigued me.
It was a tight fit 99% of the drive forward.
There was one spot along the upward route,
where the road briefly broadened out – then quickly shrunk in on itself, again.
And I met more cars: where were
they coming from?!
The higher the Highlander climbed on that
skinny ribbon of a road, I could see scattered private summer homes of the
wealthy; some year’round homesteaders, and several private campgrounds with
travel Trailor hookups and porta-potty sites.
I actually started to pity the poor log truck
drivers who had to deal with the summer vacation travelers on that road when
log trucks were wanting to get to ... and from ... the landings, quickly to make payroll.
Plus, log trucks are not like regular trucks:
log trucks are BIG – and they pack a heavy weight added to their own hefty weight;
they take a loooong time to stop if their brakes get hot, or a pilgrim’s
vehicle is handicapped in some way and finds itself in trouble on the road –
I would not want to be dealing with a log truck barreling down on me, on that
roadway during peak logging season.
Thankfully, that scenario was not in play
today.
Foreigner – ‘Urgent’ song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FHnNIoNUZig
I was not looking forward to backtracking.
But it was necessary to get back off the
hillside (I don’t think it was tall enough to qualify as a mountain – but it
was steep).
I drove the high hillside for about 45
minutes (roundtrip) before touching down on the main highway again; and
saw a log truck … it pulled out of a side road, a bit in front of me.
Nearing the main Rose Valley highway, my
stomach was letting me know it needed something put in it to calm the turbulent
stomach juices. I decided to drive into Kalama to Lucky Dragon: I would eat a
small portion, and bring the rest home to break down into 3 more meals to pop
into the freezer 😊
Exiting the paved goat trail and entering the
main roadway, I saw a log truck pulling onto the road from a graveled spur, a
little bit in front of me. The first log truck I’d seen all day 😉
Homemade Subgum Chow Mein: http://mystainedapron.com/subgum-chow-mein/
Homemade Mar Far Chicken: https://www.recipelink.com/msgbrd/board_14/2016/JUN/38830.html
After lunch in Kalama, I found I was driving
to the top of Kalama hill off main street, and driving home that high road.
Until this afternoon, I hadn’t attempted that
height on my drives home from Kalama.
Bob did all the high elevation driving.
I was the nervous passenger on those
cliff-hugging drives; rarely looking out the passenger window when we were on
high elevation roads – regular sized roads, or skinny ribbon roads.
God does not have a spirit of fear … but
Yeshua created us with a healthy sense of fear relevant to certain situations –
and He remembers our frame: that we are humans, and gives us a Spirit of
peace when we rely on His faithfulness in all situations.
It is normal to feel a small measure of fear,
when it’s warranted: it’s not okay to be fearfully paranoid.
But today, it just seemed like Elohim kept prodding me onto high climbing roadways.
I was continually put in high elevation
situations this afternoon – and strangely enough, I didn’t suffer any vertigo. Heights
normally make me dizzy when I take my eyes off the main focus … like the
climbing roadway in front of me. But when I looked down at the river waaaay
far below me, there wasn’t any pin-pricking nervousness, or dizzying vertigo
moments.
And, because I had crossed over the
river coming from the heights of Kalama, onto the Kalama River Road; I decided
to drive to the end of that, too.
It was there.
I was there.
Why not?
So … that’s what I did.
The Kalama River Road climbed steeply, too; but
it was a normal 2-lane highway. When the blacktop ended, there was a 1-lane
gravel logging road … and I ignored it 😉
I turned around in a gated driveway, and got
a good laugh out of the sign hanging on the chained gate.
I came home via Old Highway 99, which drops
into Kelso … by the mini-strip airport, there.
Kelso Airport: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Southwest_Washington_Regional_Airport
As I was driving Talley Way, a little descending
passenger plane, flew right over the roof of the Highlander with its landing
wheels lowered to make a landing – I saw the shadow of it before the plane’s body
filled the entire driver’s side window as it dropped to landing mode.
A little too close for my liking.
Bob and I had driven that road many times over
the 44 years we were married … and I have driven it many times since becoming a
solo lobo: there has never been a plane flying that low, or that close to
our vehicles.
It did make me nervous until I saw it touch
down on the landing field.
When I got to Longview, I thought I’d better
top the gas tank off; I was at the halfway mark.
Pulling into the pump station, I went through
the pumping routine, and felt like I was in the Twilight Zone when the pump
kept going tilt. I finally had to go to the Station Master’s shack to ask him
what was wrong with the pump. I explained what was happening, and he came a
took a look and then fiddled around with something in the shack and told me to ‘go
ahead and pump'.
So, I put the nozzle in the tank opening and
started washing the bug guts off the windshield. The pump was beeping by the
time I got done with the squeegee, so I removed the nozzle-hung it up-and
waited for the receipt.
No go.
Back to the Pump manger’s Shack I went, and
asked for a receipt.
He got a puzzled expression on his face, and
said, “Which pump, and how much?”
I pointed, and said, “The window says $30.58
cents.”
Again, he looked puzzled – then handed me a receipt.
I pocketed it, and drove to my SIL’s house to
tell her something I remembered that might be of help to one of Bob’s brother’s.
As I was leaving my SIL’s house, I happened to
glance at the car’s dashboard, and saw that my reading still said I was half
a tank empty.
W.T.H?
I was a fourth low when I left the carport.
I used a fourth of a tank running over the high hills.
I pumped gas a few minutes ago.
Or had I?
The pump had been acting strange: maybe it
never pumped gas at all …
Back to Fred Meyer’s I went; in a huff.
When I got there, I told the guy – a different
one than the last one was now on duty: I explained how the pump had been acting
up. I explained how the other guy had looked at it, and was confused when I
asked for a receipt. I said I was pissed that I had paid for $30 worth of gas
that hadn’t even been fed into my car’s tank!
He looked at his cash register with a
confused expression.
He told me to try again.
I did.
The pump refused to take my cards: my FB
Bonus card, or my Debit card. It was refusing transaction, and telling me to
talk to the cashier.
Back to the Pump Shack I went; trying to be calm.
I told the guy the pump was not behaving, a.g.a.i.n.
He came out and looked at it.
He watched me go through the ritual.
He “huh”ed.
He fiddled with things.
He said, “You can pay me $60 dollars, and I will
give you a refund if you don’t use that much.”
I said I wasn’t comfortable with that since
the pump was malfunctioning; all I wanted was to get a refund for the gas I
never received earlier, so I could use another pump and go home.
He told me to wait: and went back to the Shack.
I waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Finally, I got in the car and headed over to
Safeway to get gas there.
But, first I stopped by the Bank to have the
$30.52 FM charge removed from my Card – I was not going to pay for gas I did
not receive.
The bank teller said I’d have to wait 24
hours before it could be removed.
I closed my eyes and tried to rub a growing
migraine away.
I said I’d be back in 24 hours … and drove to
the Safeway Pumping Station.
I went through the Pump Station
ritual there: NO GO.
WTH
Into that Station Shack I marched.
I was told my card was being denied because “there
aren’t sufficient funds”.
I said, “That can’t be – there’s plenty to
cover any transaction, in my account.”
She said, “All I can tell you is what I am
reading on my screen.”
Back to the Bank I went.
The teller said my account funds had been “seized
by Fred Meyer because there is a dispute about a gas transaction.”
I was furious!
I asked, “Can they do that? I’m the
one that has been wronged, here: I was billed for gas I never received!
How can they freeze my account?”
The teller said, “It’s a normal thing they do
anytime there is a card transaction; they always put ‘a touch’ on an extra $100
as a cover fee.”
I was getting angrier.
I mean, they have no right to
touch money that isn’t theirs!
They have no right to treat me
like a criminal when the fault is clearly theirs.
I decided right there, on the
spot, that I would never do any business with Fred Meyers again.
Bob would not tolerate this backhanded
behavior; and neither will I.
I made another transfer, and was finally able
to top the tank.
I can’t believe the mess that resulted at the
FM Gas Station terminal, that ruined my good mood, put my credibility into
question, and worked me up so much that my body was moving into asthma mode (stress
can induce asthma symptoms).
Through no fault of my own.
I had better get back every
single penny of that false $30.52 charge, by 5 PM tomorrow; or they are
going to wish they had never tangled with me: I do
not take shafting … or being put on the spot … very well.
