Travels with The Rayman

Borrego Springs sits by itself in the desert.  You must be on your way there or you would never know of it.  Off the beaten path is a phrase the Chamber of Commerce would be smart to use to describe their little town.  It sits alone by itself and that is it’s charm, really.  That and he has no street lights and so the stars are spectacular.

The biggest employer in BS must be the state of California because there exists here a state park. http://www.abdsp.org/

The reason I write about it, dear reader, is that this is where we have been for the past week.  And the reason we are here is because our friends, Al and Charlie (Charlie is a she), live here.  And the reason they live here is because this is a great place to winter.  Spring and fall are okay too.  And they love riding their bicycles here.  But don’t be here in the summer.  Too darn hot.  It is desert.  Low desert and it gets hotter than a dickens.

But I digress.  Al and Charlie weren’t here because Al’s dad died and they had to go to Tucson before we got to see them.  However, our other friends, Jake and K.C. (K.C. is a she) were here with their 5th wheel to ride their bikes.  And many other friends of theirs were her riding their bikes too.  Not us.  We are too wimpy.  Way too wimpy.

We met the most interesting people.  Practically super-human.  There was Elizabeth.  She and her daughters rode their bikes from Chicago to Marin, CA.  She and her husband rode their bikes from Canada to Mexico following the Pacific ridge trail.  See a mountain, climb a mountain.  No problemo.

I interject some spanish because while they were all out riding, I was studying spanish on Rosetta Stone.  Bicicleta is spanish for bicycle.  FYI.

But I digress.

I also finished a book.  The 100 Year Old Man Who Climbed Out the Window.  And continued the book about Roger Ailes, the Republican operative who runs Fox (Faux) News.    All this reading while the bicyclists rode their bikes 40, 50, 80 miles a day.  Yes, you read that right.  They ride all over the place for hours on end.  And most of the rides involve big mountains.  BS is surrounded on three sides by mountains.  One of their rides involved going from almost sea level (BS) to 4000 feet in the space of 28 miles.  Now that is a climb.  Hell, I couldn’t even walk it.  And, the riders, none of them are spring chickens.  Most are in their 60s, I’d hazard a guess.

Now the thing is, these people need to have their heads examined.  Because what we learned anew is that bicycling is dangerous.  Jonathan’s brother got in an altercation with a truck and he was in rehab in Escondido dealing with a broken pelvis and other horrible things.  Then Marsha who lives here, fell and took a chunk out of her leg and incurred some “road rash”.  Ah, I didn’t just learn some spanish words.  I learned bicycle words.  They have a whole vocabulary that archeologists will find fascinating someday.  Phrases  like “I lost my cleat”, “I broke my clavicle”, “I got road rash”, “the geometrics”, “I need to go to the emergency room”, “he has a big engine”,”carbon”.  Yes, siree.  Our new friend Joe was forced off the road on the climb to 4000 feet to Julian (a cute little town), and ended up in the emergency room in Indio.  Broken ribs.  The only broken ribs I want to see are baby backs.  And lest I forget his wife, Donna, who ran for 1 1/2 hours while we hiked.  Me, I would have said, “Joe, you need me here sitting in the chair to answer your beck on call.”    Nope.  Not Donna.  She had to run.

And we met a fellow that got out of the Vietnam war by being too tall.  He is tall sitting down.  He is so tall he has to have his bicycles custom made.  By a guy whose name sounded like Mario Marshamelio.    And did I mention that all these people look like string beans?  Especially Mr. string bean, Dave!!

But I digress.  Again.

While we were here we played golf and took a hike.  We hiked 3 miles to see an oasis.  A real, live oasis.  The Palm Canyon hike was wonderful.  Had to scramble up one rock, but it was so cool.  Started out at the trail head with sand and rocks.  Half way up a stream appeared, then a water fall and the palm trees.  This is where the borregos (long horned sheep as pictured above) come to get water.  We didn’t see any that day.  But we did see a whole group of them a few years back when down to visit Al and Charlie.  We were so lucky that day.  A herd of them appeared at the top of a mountain and we watched them come down, down, down and they crossed the street and went to the golf course for fresh grass eating.  Here’s some pics.  These borregos are nothing to fool with.  The males cleared the way, and the females ran through as the males stood guard.  Quite a site to behold.  An unbelievable experience.

This is one of the males.

And below you will see the females as they rushed through.

But I digressed…Again

These bicyclists are so full of energy.  Not only do they do their rides.  But they also hike.  So, if biking isn’t planned, hiking is planned.  They must be masochistic.  Oh, I kid the riders.  Because I’m jealous.  I wish I had that much energy.  Don’t you?

Yesterday we took a hike after our breakfast hike with Jake and K.C.  They know another bicyclist couple from British Columbia and they know all about ants.  Would we like to take a little hike with them to learn about ants and things?  Sure!!  So we drove to their second home in BS and we hiked into the desert behind their house.  There we saw all kinds of insects that you don’t even know are there because they are so small.  Daniel had a high powered set of binocs and so did his wife, Helen.  We looked at the tiniest bee I’ve ever seen.  Beetles.  Tiny.  We saw a bee hive in the rocks.  And we watched a grasshopper molt.  We also learned about ants that hang from the top of their colony and do nothing but hold the nectar that their fellow ants collected.  They are called honey pot ants.  Good eating for us people, I suppose.

So, on the way back from our fascinating desert session, I asked Daniel where he was trained?  Essentially, he is self taught.  Just found BS intriguing and started learning about it.  A landscaper by profession, he’s been wintering in BS for years.  He and his wife, Helen, are skinny too.  And they are getting ready to go back to British Columbia.  By train.  They come down by train and somehow get to BS and live all winter by getting around by bicycle.  And they have one car in British Columbia but don’t really drive it.  Their son lives 3 day’s bike ride away.  They were more interesting than the ants, by far.  It is just amazing the people we met in BS.

We also played golf with a fellow that worked 37 years in Alaska.  He retired and moved to San Diego.  He was a hoot.  Loves to fly fish.  And that’s where I think I’ll leave this.  The Alaska guy likes to fly fish and so did too-tall-Dave.  And I think that is the next thing I want to do.  Stand in a stream and try to catch fish.  I won’t have to dodge cars to do it.  May hike though!!

Yes, now that we are out of the frozen north, a bit of a critique is in order.

What in the world were we thinking?  Of course, dear reader, this refrain is a fairly common one for us, isn’t it?  So.  What have we learned?  Here are some bullet points on the subject.  Better yet, let me steal a concept from my friend, Bill Maher.

NEW RULES

Do not go north in the winter.  There may an exception to the rule from time to time but the exception would involve another rule such as go only as far north as a day trip.  This is so that if the weather does not cooperative, you can hightail it home in short order.  In deference
to my ski loving spouse, he may go north to look for snow.  By himself.

Second new rule.  Only go south in the winter.  Generally speaking, it is always warmer the further south one goes.  This is a good rule.

Third new rule.  Check road conditions.  We traveled some horrible roads.  Rocky roads.  Bumpy roads.  Roads under construction.  Actually, there should be a list of roads to avoid.  Like 99.  It is a total mess.  Driving when raining didn’t help.

Fourth new rule.  Don’t drive in the rain.  Stop where you are and stay there.  Keeping this behemoth between the lines is hard when the sun is shining.  Of course, if our drought continues, this rule will have a very small impact.

Fifth new rule.  Don’t drive in a wind storm.  Driving an RV in wind is like bronco riding.  The freeway becomes the bull and you are the rider, hanging on for dear life.

Sixth new rule.  Travel with friends.  We saw so much of ourselves and no one else…it wasn’t healthy.  Interaction with others is preferable.  And with people we know, even better.  Tonight we will see friends in Gilroy and, boy, are we excited!!  Other people to talk to.  Too much of a good thing is a bad thing.

Seventh new rule.  Go somewhere and stay there for awhile.  Yes, we stayed in Corvallis for a while, but that we because we were snowed in.  We almost lost our sanity, like in The Shining.  He, the twisted author, was snowed in as I recall.  Staying a different place every night is not a trip.  It’s a series of drives.

Eighth new rule.  Don’t get mad at your passenger when they yell, “Move over.”  The hardest job is that of the passenger.  The passenger gets a bird’s eye view of concrete walls, other trucks, steep embankments and the passenger lacks any control.  The only thing the passenger can do is scream.  It’s not personal.  Or perhaps the new rule should be to not look.  Blinders might be useful to keep the horse metaphor going here.

Ninth new rule.   Read all the other rules before starting to plan the next trip.  This rule is critical.  Nothing like a reminder sans the gory details.

Tenth new rule.  Get out and do stuff.  RVing can be sedentary.  It is imperative to get out and do things.  Golf, hike, swim, kyack, bicycle.  Wherever the road takes us, exercise must be an important component.  It is also a good way to deal with the frustrations of the road. And that was lacking in the frozen tundra.  In fact, we have ruled out Alaska.  Too damn cold even in summer.  We do want to learn how to fly fish, but it won’t involve any locations that don’t get above 65 in the dead of summer during the day.  Just not going to happen.

So, dear reader, you see.  We learned a few things on our first official trip.  And with any luck at all, we will remember to review this list.  You know about lists, don’t you?  Make the list.  Lose the list.  Misplace the list.  Forget to the refer to the list.  The list goes on and on!!

This really is not fun anymore.  Rayman is out looking for the AAA guy who can’t seem to find us here at the RV park next to the fairgrounds in Corvallis, OR.  Snowy Corvallis, OR.  This is the snowy Corvallis that never snows so it has not invested in any snowplows.  None.  Nada.  And when a city does not invest in snowplows, the snow remains on the road.  Some of it turns to ice.  Some of it turns to slop.  Some of it melts and becomes, well, water.  And it makes it almost impossible to drive on even with chains.  Really, people, what are the city father’s (and mothers), thinking here?

A slight diversion.  So, well, we needed food yesterday.  It was Rayman’s birthday, a birthday he will never forget.  So, we braved the horrid conditions on the road and slipped and slid all the way to the grocery store.  And yes, we had our chains on the Fit.  We are located about 5 minutes from the store, but it managed to take us an hour to get there and back.  And we managed to get there and back alright but the clutch smelled funny.  Although, we can’t blame the clutch on the snow.  It started smelling in Phoenix, Oregon which is a burb of Ashland.  So, when we arrived here, the clutch was already a problem.

But, I digress, sort of.

We got to the store yesterday, and we got home yesterday.  This a.m. when we woke, the snow was beginning to break down a bit and we decided in the early afternoon to go to Albany, 20 minutes up the road to check out conditions and return some things to Target.  Well, then we decided to go to Eugene since when we escape this place with no plows, we will be traveling to Eugene, possibly.  The main roads are pretty good,  Side roads are still a mess.  So, we decided to take off the chains.  Well, easier said than done.  We pulled into the driveway for Hewlett Packard and parked the car.  Rayman got out and started working on the driver’s side.  I got out and worked on the passenger side.  We could not get them off.  I circled to his side and tried to assist.  Growling ensued.  The chain would not come off.  Rayman jacked up the car with a jack that he called, “pitiful”.  Still no luck.  I then sashayed around to the passenger side to look and compare and somehow the passenger side tire chain came off.  Divine intervention?  But try as we may, the other chain was not forthcoming.   So, we gave up and drove the car back to the RV park because Rayman wanted to get that chain off.   I was at the wheel driving when I noticed the “check engine light” on.  OMG.  What next?

So, Rayman decided if the chain wouldn’t come off the tire, the tire would come off the car.  And so it did.  However, the jack was such a piece of s*&t, that once the tire came off, Rayman could not get the tire back on.  The car sank somehow.  So, I called AAA.  The nice man informed me that they (AAA) were only responding to emergencies in Corvallis (and I think know why.  They can’t drive here either).  He said it would probably be tomorrow before help would arrive.  And our neighbors were out of the park so there was seemingly no help.

In the meantime, I was informed by the Rayman that the Invisibrake that we had installed so that the blinkers on the car signal at the same time the RV signals signal…that contraption’s wires under the car had come lose and they were on the ground.  OMG.  By this time, I was getting really getting concerned.  The clutch, the tire, the wires, the check engine light.  What would become of us?

As I was calling the RV park in Eugene (a back up in case we could escape someday), I received an incoming call.  It was a phone number from Irvine, CA.  Who could it be?  It was the AAA tow truck driver.  He was looking for us but couldn’t find us.  This caused Rayman to don his coat and run out to look for him I tried to explain where we were.  And that is where I started this story.

As it unfolded, Rayman found him and the AAA guy put our tire back on.  Then as I was sitting here composing this gruesome report, he asked me to fire up TDH and try the signals while he watched the Fit.  Eureka.  They worked after all.  Which led me to wonder, “Is the Rayman a drama queen?”

At this point, I think we need to start drinking.  Heavily.  Immediately.  If not sooner.  Because we still have a smelly clutch and a check engine warning light on.

There is nothing else to do today but blog, play scrabble, do crossword puzzles, read.  So it isn’t all  bad.  However, snow has cramped our style nonetheless.  Next winter, we’ll go to Mexico.

If we wanted baptism by fire, we sure got it.  Newbie RVers caught in snow drift in the Corvallis Benton RV Park, Freeze to Death.  That could be the headline.  Hopefully not.  This a.m. we awoke to the white winter scene and immediately called our son to ask if he could please come to get so we could have breakfast together.  We thought it would stop and then we could put the chains on the Fit.  Well, in hindsight that was not such a good idea.  The car is practically buried now.

But I digress.

We did make it to breakfast and back and that is when we noticed all the snow building up on the slides of the RV.  Not good.  And the Beaumeister had not “done his business yet”.  So, we managed (with minimal trouble) to close both our slides.  TDH should stay warmer.  Did I mention it is about 20 degrees outside.  And the snow hasn’t stopped since before we awoke at 6:45 and it is now noon.  Wonder if the park manager has a snow shovel?  We sure as hell don’t.  Does Round Table deliver?  What if we run out of propane?  Actually, this morning when Rayman filled the coffee machine, he turned off the water which should not be turned off because it keeps things from freezing and so when I went to brush my teeth before leaving for breakfast, there was no water so the Rayman donned his ski parka and hiking boots and gloves and ventured outside with the hair dryer to blow hot air on the water line hoping that simple and elegant solution would get the water moving again….which it did to our amazement and I was able to complete the tooth duty before we all scrambled into our old Highlander which Ryan now owns and which he drove over from his apartment without chains so that the Rayman could go out and help him install the chains (just thinking of you, dad) and we sally forthed to the Sunnyside Up restaurant and ate blueberry pancakes with real maple syrup (a surcharge of $2/per for the real deal) and then we came back to TDG to spend what looks to be the next three days without leaving except for the trip to the laundry room and walks for the Beau while doggie wears his new rain/snow coat we bought yesterday just in case.

Whew.  None of the other RVs have put in their slides.  Then again, perhaps they got smart and headed for the closest Holiday Inn.  I mean, people, what are we to do?  Will we run out of propane?  At least we have electricity as long as the utility company keeps it going.  And we have water, thanks to the hair dryer.

Ode to the Downer Party

Gold had a lure for the pioneers of old that
Strode to the mountains in the west, looming like
The great hopes in their beating hearts all the while
Whispering their names.  And they came.

Snow knows no respect to the dreams of the damned
As they hunker down low hoping for the sun to shine hope their direction.

Frozen in place they must have known the worst
Was upon them.  Who would live, who would perish?

To live was the curse.

So.  End of ode.

There.  That made me feel so much better.  We are cozy and dry and connected to the world with our gadgets.  And we have leftover pozole, clam chowder, chili.  We aren’t on the menu.  Not bad.  But of you don’t hear from us now and then, you might inquire with the local authorities.

As I said earlier, to Mexico next winter!!

This story is short and sad.  We left Bishop yesterday a.m.  Beautiful day.  Took some fabulous pictures.  Everything was great until we hit a sign that said, “Chains required in 10 miles.”  That news put a sudden stop to our trip north.  After much gnashing of teeth, we decided not to chance going any further.  Snow on the side of the road was mounting and we did not have chains for TDH.  So, we reluctantly made a U-turn and here I am sitting in the Orange Grove RV park in Bakersfield.  OMG.  The Orange Grove RV park has orange trees with oranges on them and we collected about 8 fresh navels from the trees.  Boy are they good.  I made a salad of greens, orange slices, red onion slices and squeezed OJ with EVOO to go with our baked chicken breast.  The chicken was like eating shoe leather but it was very healthy.  And I almost ruined the two pieces of Corian material that sit atop the stove.  Didn’t realize the oven vented.  Well, no excuses.  Left the covers in place and, boy, did the back one get hot.  They seem okay today.  Close call.

View in the rear view mirror.

We weren’t sure what we would do tomorrow.  Continue on up to Corvallis via the coast route, 101 and 1.  Or just give up and go home.  Rayman could fly to Oregon to visit Ryan.  Will slept on it and decided this morning.

So.  Here I am writing from TDH parked in Vacaville.  We are parked on Chardonnay Lane at the Vineyards RV “resort”.  And it is raining.  Not hard but it is raining.

Today, Rayman started driving.  We headed up 99 thinking it would be easier.  NOT.  I’m here to report that the infrastructure of the CA highway system is a mess.  We were shaken up, literally.  Narrow lanes, road under construction signs.  Ruts.  Bumps.  Pot holes.  When it was time to trade off driving, we pulled off the freeway.  The app said the truck stop was good.  It wasn’t.  We pulled into the gas station.  Didn’t think we could get out without backing up which is a gigantic no-no since we are towing a toad.  Managed to extricate ourselves without uprooting a gas pump or buying gas.  Rayman was too nervous to pump gas.  We moved to the next station.  It was an Arco.  What is their business plan anyway?  They wouldn’t take our debit card, our credit card, our first born.  So we left there and spied a Starbucks across the intersection.  It was on the wrong side of the street.  I swung a u-turn, parked illegally in the shadow of a “No parking anytime” sign.  Rayman ran to the store (I think he was burning mad energy).  Finally, we turned right to get on the freeway and there was no on ramp going north.  For heaven’s sakes.  What else could go wrong?  Well.  I’m here to report plenty.

It started raining.  And the driver’s side wiper did not work worth a damn.  Forgot to check that.  Who knew?  So, I drove as best I could seeing not as good as I should, dodging those pot holes and road under construction areas.  Why is 99 so bad?  We would go from perfect freeway, to total 3rd world type roads in the snap of a finger.  Some spots that were ‘fenced” off  with white concrete barriers protected freeway lanes that looked like hadn’t seen any repair action for months.  There was no meaningful pattern to discern.  And all the roads leading to Interstate 5 went south before they went north.  We just preservered.

Then it was Rayman’s turn again.  He picked the place to stop.  Luckily, the spot had a great grocery store.  So, we shopped for dinner.  Clam chowder.  Rayman took the wheel.  It continued to rain.  The road kept being terrible until we transitioned to the 120 where it became the two lane from hell.  And we just kept on.  I”m pretty sure everything in TDH has been rearranged inside the drawers and the closets.  Rayman chose a route that included all kinds of backroads.  We saw sheep, wet sheep.  We saw drawbridges (went over it.)  It was much more fun than the big highways.  Wish it was all backroads but we need to get to Corvallis by Feb. 5.  No time to dilly dally.

Now the Broncos just fumbled for the third time.  It’s a rout.  I can identify.

We’re ready to eat clam chowder that I screwed up.  I was suppose to warm the half and half with the clams and clam juice.  I instead put it into the pan with all the other ingredients including the half cooked potatoes.  The cream is not to be boiled.  As a result we had to wait much longer for it be done.  And did I mention, we are starving?  Desperate, I let it boil a bit.  And then we consumed it.    The recipe:

• 4 slc bacon, coarsely minced
• 3 green onions, minced
• 5  red potatoes, medium size, unpeeled, cut into 1/2-inch cubes
• 1/3 c. rreen or red pepper, chopped
• 1/3 c. celery, sliced
• 3  eloves garlic, chopped
• 1 c. water
• 1 c. clam juice, (bottled is OK)
• 1 tsp salt
• 1/2 tsp pepper
• 1 tsp Worchestshire sauce
• Tabasco sauce to taste
• 3 cans of choopped clams, (canned) with juice
• 2 c. half and half.   NO SUBSTITUTES

Directions

And now the Super Bowl is just about over.  What a boring game.  The announcer waxed on about how he didn’t see this kind of victory coming.  Sort of sounded like Rove on election night.

But I digress.

So, many lessons learned.  Good thing I’m blogging so I can review all our mistakes to laugh at later when I’m not so tired and void of humor.

Tomorrow we head for Ashland.  Let’s hope it’s easier.

Is this the most fabulous picture. I was there. I took it!!

I’m currently tucked into bed in The Dog House which is parked at Bishop.  It is colder than a witches’ tit here.  Snowing off on on.  Who the heck idea’s was this anyway?  RVs are better suited for the warm climates, I can definitely report.

The good news is we have full hook ups and the Schott’s bakery is located a few steps from our door.  The bad news is the bakery is located a few steps from our door.  If we hang out here a diet will be needed.  Too many fabulous goodies.

On the road to Cerro Gordo

Today was spectacular.  After helping my friend, Nancy, for the past week…her neighbor offered to drive me to Bishop from Ridgecrest to meet up with the Rayman who has been here skiing and golfing this week.  We struck the mother lode of beautiful today.  Cold, crisp, clear.  And we were practically the only car on the road.  The neighbor, Mary, carried me in her 4 wheel drive SUV and she was quite adept at going off the road with it.  Several times, i thought perhaps I was going to plunge to my death, but, no way.  She was an excellent driver and guide.  She has lived in Ridgecrest since the 70s and she knows the eastern Sierra like the back of her hand.  She loves to camp, do jeep rallies, look for petroglyphs and and she has been working very hard (with her husband) to save the old mining town of Cerro Gordo.  When I jumped in her car .., she asked what my schedule for arrival at Bishop looked like.  I told her there was no schedule.  She then inquired as to my interest in seeing Cerro Gordo after giving me the definitive history of the place.  “Sure.  Let’s go.  I’m game.”  And so we went.  Turning off 395 we headed up hill on a lonely stretch that bordered the south end of Owens Lake.  Then suddenly we turned left and then right and the pavement went away.  OMG.  8 1/2 miles straight up hill on a winding, rocky road to Cerro Gordo.

On the way Mary told me that Steve McQueen had been there filming long ago.  The first Ironman movie was filed at a sight on the way there.  I saw the spot.  Fun stuff.  When we arrived at the town, there was a man named Robert that greeted us.  He and his wife, Sandy, live in the god forsaken place as the caretakers of the town.,,,with their chihuahua, Harley that did not like me one bit.   He snarled and barked.  It is amazing the dog has survived.  There was an owl in the neighborhood with a reported 4 ft. wing span.  Of course, coyotes are around as well as mountain lions and an occasional college student.  A chihuahua would be a tempting target for those predators.

Mary gave me the grand tour.  I saw the hotel, the church, the museum, the inside of two of the houses and then Robert and Sandy;s house.  Spent some time chatting with them.  Mary and her husband and many of their friends are working hard to preserve this place.  Here’s a website for you, the dear reader. http://www.ghosttowns.com/states/ca/cerrogordo.html

Beau posing in front of the hotel.

The church.

To backtrack, the day was beautiful.  We went high enough to go into a bit of snow.  Mt. Whitney, directly across the valley was in sight with a new dusting of snow.  Since we are in the middle of a severe drought, we were lucky it snowed last night.  Stunning.  So stunning we kept stopping the car and jumping out to click away.  I was so sorry I didn’t have my good camera but the iPhone still took some great pics.

Mary was kind to drive me to Bishop, however, she also had business.  She had just developed a brochure about Cerro Gordo.  They have established a 501 3(c) non-profit so that they can get people to donate to the cause.  And those brochures were delivered today to Chambers of Commerce, museums, visitors bureaus all along 395.  The trip that started at 8:30 ended about 3:30 this afternoon.  When we arrived, she dropped me off and drove off without the bacon.  What bacon, you ask?

Bishop has a famous smokehouse and our Ridgecrest friend, Greg, that we met on a cruise to Alaska, wanted us to buy him some bacon and give it to Mary who would drive it back to Ridgecrest.  As she drove away, Rayman opened the frig of TDH and saw the bacon.  OMG.  We forgot to “deliver” the bacon.  I didn’t have Mary’s cell number.  Frantically, I called Nancy.  Call went to voice mail.  I called Greg.  They didn’t have Mary’s number.  I called Nancy again.  As I was calling her, she was calling me.  And did I mention that Rayman was driving down the highway in hot pursuit to give Mary the bacon.  Finally reaching Nancy, I got the number, called Mary and explained the situation.  This was when she informed me that she had gone north, not south toward home.  One more visitors center to drop off pamphlets.  So, I called Rayman and told him to turn around.  Then Mary and I talked again and gave Rayman’s cell to Mary and they met in front of the bakery.  Bacon was passed like illegal drugs (actually, the bacon should be illegal.  It’s that good.) and Rayman came back to TDH just as snow started falling.

Oh, the miracle of the cell phone.  Because of the phone not only did we manage to get the bacon headed in the right direction, but I was also able to text Rayman, earlier, a grocery list for dinner tonight.

Tonight’s dinner consisted of chicken Marsala, tossed green salad with onions, tomatoes dressed with EVOO and balsamic vinegar, and couscous.  A bakery brownie (see what I mean?) almost polished it off.  We actually had a square of dark chocolate and zin to wash it down to round out of the meal.  Then it took the Rayman about an hour to clean the kitchen which is about the size of a postage stamp.  Seems the oil that I sautéed the chicken and mushrooms in was evident on every surface of the kitchen.  Hum.  That’s a learning experience.  Need to refine my selections.  Avoid splattering recipes, is TDH “new rule”.

This was the Rayman getting ready not to ski. Getting ready to walk the dog.

Time to read my book.  More to report, I’m sure, tomorrow as we head up to 8000 feet.  I will drive the car to lighten the load for TDH.  We are headed to Corvallis via Carson City.  Who’s idea was this, anyway?  Colder than heck, possible rain. BBBUUUUUUURRRRHHHHH.