WHERE IS FLORENCE?

Florence is everywhere it seems. Florenceians from Oregon know precisely where they are, and where every other city of Florence is too. They are proud to flaunt that they are 5800 miles from Florence, Italy and 890 miles from Florence, California, and...

3,717 miles from Florence, Nova Scotia and 1,256 miles from Florence, Arizona...as you can see, its fun!
This is a nice town. You can get 25 different kinds of craft beers here, for starters. Even the local Moose Club serves up a Black Butte Porter. Ahh, the West Coast advantage, good bread and beer.

 The town is nicely surrounded by water, woods and sand dunes. The art deco 1930's style draw bridge takes you over the Siuslaw (pronounced say-use-slaw) River. Several fish houses and restaurants feature the abundant fresh Oregon clams, crabs, cod and halibut. In fact, since it was Mother's Day, we had planned to go out for lunch at a well recommended restaurant called the Waterfront Depot after poking around town and visiting the Pioneer Museum. 
 We found out they were only open for dinner and we were hungry. I ran into a shop and asked the cashier for a second best restaurant in town and she said in a very commanding way, "No, you must go there if you can get a seat. Every one up and down the coast comes to this place. You need a reservation. They are setting up right now. Go to the door and see if they have a spot for you." How could I refuse such an order?
But, they were full.  Since they are open 7 days a week we reserved a table for tomorrow instead.  The Bay Street Grill served us a nice bowl of clam chowder with excellent sour dough bread.

 The day was sunny and crisp. The rhododendron festival is just around the corner and we saw bunches of them around town and on the road.

Exhibits from the Siuslaw Pioneer Museum were of good quality and thorough about this locality. Great pianos, organs, dulcimers, drums, a military room, sewing room, the usual household items and tools you are likely to see. The docents were friendly and well informed.  I like museums where I find something I've never seen before. I was in for a curious treat.

This contraption is a Sears & Roebuck fireless cooker and radiator. The cooking and heating is done by placing soap stones that fit in the well in the sun to absorb heat. Then the radiated heat cooks your food and helps keep your room warm. And I thought solar cooking devices were modern green technology?

 This my friends, I wish I had at home. A musical toilet paper holder, as long as it doesn't play the Star Spangled Banner. The docent demonstrated it for me. You pull on the paper and it winds up the music box and plays a tune. Guess it didn't catch on commercially.

 This perfectly round bowling ball sized rock was formed by rolling around and around at the foot of a falls, trapped in an indent. Smaller stone "marbles'  were formed that way as well.

 Beach balls, another natural phenomena found on beaches the world over.

 This key collection, and a button collection; an old wooden ironing board with a metal plate built into it,   prevents the iron from burning the board. A couple gigantic pressure cookers. A whole raft of stuff I'd never been acquainted with. I've really played with trivial things here, but this museum, set in a former school house,  has interesting local history, families, industry, stories. The local Siuslaw Indians were peaceful people who got along well with the white settlers. The Indians would protect themselves from forest fires by heading for the beach and loading their families into a boat and anchor far enough off shore to prevent encounters with cougars, bear, and other predators also taking refuge near the water.

 I couldn't resist this picture. A bunch of  the Beach Gang, during WWII, volunteers who watched for ships but liked to play around a bit on occasion, built this gigantic sling shot.

I couldn't pass up this jail door, either. It says door, not window.

HACETA LIGHTHOUSE AND SEA CAVES

The Haceta Lighthouse is barely visible from a distance on this rugged section of the Oregon coast. The day was overcast, damp, cool and invigorating.

The steep hike up gave us aerial views of the beautiful point and cove it commands and also the Cave Creek Bridge over which we crossed to get to the parking lot. 

 From above, we watched the churning power of the sea swirling around huge rock outcroppings as though to pulverize them to pieces.

 On the way up I wanted to swing like monkey from the branches of this a tree that formed natural stairs along the trail with its huge root system. I haven't a clue what kind of tree it is.

 Amazingly, Haceta is an old 1894 lighthouse, but it is still in service. It has an automated fresnel lense that turns a 1,000 watt bulb, magnified a million times by the lense to shine 21 miles out to sea. Its an historic relic maintained by the Oregon Parks System because ships and planes have GPS and satellite sounding systems that have no need for this piece of history.

Jim and I visited about a dozen lighthouses on the East Coast last year, but I learned more about them on this visit than all of the others. Each lighthouse has two oil houses. In case one catches fire and burns, the oil from the 2nd house is available to keep the lamps lit for passing ships. The big can was filled and brought to the service level twice per shift. The small can was used to fill the oil lamp. On the day shift, the fresnel lense had to be cleaned of soot and smoke from the lamps.

 The keeper had to climb inside the lamp through this service bay and polish every facet of the lense and the lighthouse windows as well. The keepers had to wear white aprons over their uniform to keep their brass buttons from scratching the lens.The lense weighs two thousand pounds and operated in the old days by counter weights such as those used by a grandfather clock.

This is old growth forest, with trees that dare to grow out of even older rock outcroppings. The forest itself is interesting.

On our return to camp we stopped at the Sea Lion Cave, the biggest sea cave in the world. It was a natural wonder in its early days, but now a tourist rip off courtesy of its current owners who built a 300 foot deep elevator into the cave and ruined it for viewing. Don't be tempted. They do have a position over one of the biggest birthing rookeries for sea lions. But they can be seen almost as well from the cliff sides on the road.

The cliffs here are made beautiful by an invasive plant, the scotch broom. They can't seem to rid the state of the stuff but its adaptive form on these cliffs is nothing short of spectacular.

BRANDY BAR FOR LUNCH

Oregon is green and beautiful, even when the day is overcast and cold. Expected to rain, but the drive from  Rogue River, to Florence, which is near the coast, is scenic. Crossing through the Umpqua watershed, following the river, then the Smith River area...this abundance of water helps make it the Great North West.

I even enjoyed seeing a parade of logging trucks, though I despise the clear cutting that is still happening here and in Washington State.

Old bridges, some with swinging draws are plentiful because rivers are plentiful as water pushes toward the sea from the cascades. In fact, someone told me there are 52 covered bridges in Oregon. What a wonderful goal for some summer, to find them all. There is one near my property.

As we got lower in elevation near the Dean River watershed, an expansive meadow held a huge herd of elk, lying around in plain site. Signs everywhere, elk crossing, siting area, benches and shaded places were set up for viewing. By the time we spotted them, the turn out was past so we cruised on by. Couldn't even get my camera focused in time to catch a shot from the window. But, we did stop for lunch at Brandy Bar, above. Its filled with trees and ducks.

The nearby bank showed off a patch of little English daisies in bloom and bright, new green leaves on the trees. I would have taken a dunk if the river was in Redding with its 93 degrees instead of here.

 

The sun came out for a moment as we passed this beautiful pond full of lilies just before reaching our destination, South Jetty Thousand Trails at Florence. After four hours driving, we set out for a brisk walk around the park in a light rain. Then I finished my book, The Little Friend, by Donna Tartt, an interesting novel about a southern family forever impaired by the unexplained murder of a young son. Sounds gruesome, and had some haggard characters but a compelling and fascinating read. Its great to be on the road again.

IT HASTA BE SHASTA

Its so brilliantly white, just popping up in front of you from the surrounding green, its hard to believe its real. Even through the bug spattered windshield, Mt. Shasta is an imposing sight. We moved from Redding to Rogue River, Oregon. Driving over the Siskiyous is always a beautiful, scenic trip at this time of year. But, Shasta...is Shasta. The most snow I've ever seen on her slopes at this time of year. 

Lake Shasta, usually has a red soil  line beneath the trees from its all time high level. This is the first time I've seen it with the water sloshing up to tree level.

As we got closer, I couldn't resist shot after shot of this gorgeous mountain.

 And the startling Black Butte was equally beautiful, with more greenery than I can remember, and with a slash of snow in a crevice as well.

 The State of Jefferson has a bigger sign, freshly painted, most likely reflecting new activity from the proposed new leadership such as Mark Smith who has gone to Washington D.C. three times as a delegate to push their cause.

 On my own property in Rogue River, the river was deep and wide with only a small section of white water and one downed tree with a root ball sticking up in the air.

I got my fire suppression arranged so I can sign off when the work is done. Oregon wants a personal certification from the land owner that you've complied with the removal of any endangering vegetative fuels. There is plenty of that this year. All is well. I love this place on the river, despite the fact that about half of my   seven acres floods every now and then  according to the neighbors. The mobile and well house have never been under water, though as far back as anyone can remember.

FROM COLD TO SIZZLING 93

We left Murphys and spent the night at Thousand Trails Lake Minden, just north of Sacramento in the small town of Nicholaus. What a pleasant place. A cooling breeze across the lake and a green, private parking place. We listened to a chorus of bull frogs at night and slept like babies. It got cool enough to add a blanket, and then, and then we walked the lake in the morning, hit the road an arrived at the Redding Moose Club. Its 93 degrees outside and there is no shade here. What happened? The weather wimp is complaining big time.
Plus a relay switch keeps popping off giving us fits and starts on the water pump and the whole 12 volt system we use when boondocking.

The saving grace here is the friendly people you meet at Moose Lodge #1006.  Molly Smith has taken up the nearly lost art of tatting, something I tried  years ago and at which I failed. She showed me the basic steps and gave me some hints for practicing before starting a major project.

This piece is beautiful and will be a snowflake Christmas ornament when finished.

Her husband, Mark Smith is hoping to be the first Senator of the State of Jefferson. I've known about Jefferson, and heard the story before, but I didn't know that the Redding Moose Club falls within the boundaries of the State of Jefferson.
Jefferson is roughly 100,000 square miles and uses up part of California, Nevada and Oregon. All of the work for forming this state was done years ago. The various counties involved signed and voted for it; the bill for establishing Jefferson got to the floor of Congress and was set to be voted upon December 8, 1941. It took an immediate back seat when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor on December 7th, 1941.
But around Jefferson, hope never dies. You can read why on their website:http://www.jeffersonstate.com/

And here is a map from Wikkipedia showing the territory involved. If it had passed, the State of Jefferson.
would have been our 49the state.
We also found a couple who represent a different kind of road warriors. They,like us were at a shopping mall. Unlike us, rolling on wheels, they have a back pack and walk it.

LEAVING DAY

Last minute chores before leaving made for a hectic day. A Calaveras Community Television Meeting at a local Pizza Parlor, along with the usual preparing the yard and house for someones care while I'm gone. No small task.

John Hofstetter, is a retired school principal and an avid volunteer for local causes, including computer expertise to share; he advocates and volunteers for the Logging Museum, and is a member of the board for Calaveras Community Television.
Paul Moeller on the right, is instantly recognized by everyone for his continual service to the community; gathering and copying historical photos for the public's use; videotaping every major and minor event in the county for public television. A massive task. He organized CCT and oversaw the volunteer building of a television studio here. This is a major accomplishment called the "Jewel of the Motherlode."

Pam Quyle, right, hugs Paul's wife Martha. Pam is a busy businesswoman, (Quyle Kilns) who still manages to take time out to serve on our board and that of the PEG Commission. John and Pam have been longtime residents. Paul and I are the newcomers. I serve on the board but I've only been here 33 years. Paul about 43 years. Hey, up here, if you weren't born here, you are a Johnny come lately. We always have a laugh about that.
When I get on the road with Jim, I miss my garden flowers a lot, as unkempt as the yard  has become of late. This year I got to see my daffodils. And, as I leave, I found two of my hybrid Iris in bloom. I probably have 25 different Iris. They are just fat and beginning to show. But, here are the two beauties I got to smell before we leave this morning.

See you on the road.

AN INSIDE VIEW

These young  police officers were all killed on the same day, March 21, 2009. Remembered on this t-shirt, which was displayed at an Alameda County Deputy Sheriff's Association Dinner event at John Ascuaga's Nugget Convention center over the weekend. I've been very close to the Alameda County Sheriff's Archive Association since its inception as one of its founding members.  I've followed its growth as it has  morphed from an archive to part museum, and I've participated with other volunteers to help preserve the history of the department, both statistical and personal.
Important to me is that people understand police culture; the semi-militaristic bent of police work. Cops find  family in each other; its a brotherhood and sisterhood; a bonding that doesn't happen in most ordinary jobs because your desk mate will probably never be called upon to be your back up in a life or death situation. To each other they offer an  understanding of the stresses of the job they've taken; they share a humor only understood by other cops; sometimes macabre, sometimes hilariously human. And, they know the job they do isn't perfect, as they deal with contrary laws, and angry humans set in an adversarial role as society expects cops to punish, incarcerate, deprive, protect and sometimes even kill for the public good.

 The Sheriff's Department Bed-n-Breakfast, an inside view of cop humor.

 In earlier times, justice was meted out swiftly with little regard for anyone's "rights." If you were caught on a stolen horse, you were guilty without question. Even though we know that isn't the way it should have been done, we sometimes long for that simplicity to maintain "law and order".

And, no matter what precautions you take, an inmate can always fashion a deadly weapon, be it a broken CD wrapped in fabric, a magazine rolled into a sock, a sharpened toothbrush, comb, or deadly stem from someone's eyeglasses.

The cops confiscate hundreds of these weapons and take them away, along with gang identifications as in these belt buckles-

Patty Hearst's backpack was displayed at this event along with a wanted poster for SLA members. My partner and I had recently watched two movies made about Patty Hearst and I was surprised to see Russell Little in one of those movies expounding on the innocence of the parties involved in the SLA. He was an SLA member who shot and killed School Superintendent Marcus Foster, along with Joseph Romero. They used a hollow point bullet loaded with cyanide. Little served 6 years and now counsels inmates at the jail and in half-way type houses in Oakland. Its the way our country works. But, I can't help but feel resentment that he is free and making light of the SLA.  From an inside view here is why. Pictures we have of Sergeant Bob Jensen, and Larry Franks, guys I knew, who were attacked during Little and Romero's escape attempt.

Jensen was beaten with a microphone stand and his eye was put out.

Deputy Larry Franks was stabbed with a pencil, as you can see, still sticking out of his neck. It was aimed to kill and fell short by a quarter of an inch of Franks jugular vein. Romero stabbed him; he had a background in a special forces unit in Viet Nam and was a practiced killer, courtesy of our own military training. The two unarmed deputies were locked in the visiting area with the inmates while they consulted with their attorney.

This was the first vehicle the county Sheriff's Department bought.

And, in the forties, through the sixties, some deputies served as cowboys, rousting the beef herds from county property to property.  Inmates at one time worked for crews herding cattle, butchering their own hogs, cutting hair in the barber shop, baking breads and rolls, working the shops and gardens as well as manning the Santa Rita Fire Department.  The farm system was one of the best ways to treat inmates. It gave them a sense of worth. But, like society, inmates are more violent and must be locked up without opportunities, fresh air, and hard work. Harsh punishment doesn't make them better citizens, or our streets safer when they get out. And, once you have a record, jobs are scarce.  The perpetual problem, costly, unsatisfactory.
Its just a glimpse,  a bit of an inside view.
I always enjoy the camaraderie of cops, unique people who have unique lives because of their chosen occupation.