Oh Canada!

Wow! Wow! Wow! The first thing you need to know about British Columbia is that the license plates do not  lie..when they say "BEAUTIFUL BRITISH COLUMBIA" they mean it!  We entered Canada at the border crossing just above Sandpoint Idaho -- now for those of you who don't know this area of Idaho this is the central gathering point for survivalists and government plotters.  I'm pretty sure the Unabomber hung out around here for awhile.  In fact, in 1974 an Indian Tribe in Bonner's Ferry, Idaho declared war on the U.S. government and WON!  Anyway, back to Canada - it is beautiful.  We spent the day road tripping through Kootenay National Park and into Banff National Park.  


Now I'm only going to give you a couple of truly spectacular, appetite whetting photos...the blog is going on hiatus -- have you seen International Data Rates?!!!?  YIKES!!  

See you all in about 10 days when we are back in the good old U.S.A.!

The Great Cowboy Adventure of 2012 - Final Words

What was that sound again???

At week's end a point must be made regarding the overall knowledge and mulemanship skill generally possessed by the participating Scouts.  During instruction, the boys were told that when  kicking the mules to make them move along they should give a "Click, Click." ( This sound is heard as a chirrup sort of sound made at the side of the mouth) The boys however would kick and kick while yelling, "Click, Click!"  

It is this author's theory that after days of schlepping Boy Scouts in pajama pants back and forth over 10 miles of challenging terrain, being kicked and clicked and allowed to take charge, the mules must have just been thoroughly disgusted  by week's end.  I think it is entirely possible that they'd finally just HAD
it with all this nonsense and hatched the ultimate plot... 

Max leading a scout....

At any rate as the riders descended the last steep hillside on the last ride a large free range bull (similar I suppose to a free range chicken only scarier) dashed out in front of one of the mules, who must have yelled in his most terrified voice, "RUN! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES FRIENDS, RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!" because that is exactly what they ALL did!

A headlong stampede down the mountainside with Max (the experienced mule trainer) aboard Copper hauling back on the reins, feet thrust out at an angle even with Copper's head and yelling, " WHOA! WHOA!" 

Meanwhile,  Barry, aboard steady old Brigham is towing a younger, riderless mule back to camp and this youngster decides the other mules clearly know something he doesn't and he joins the headlong charge down the impossibly steep incline.  Not to be dissuaded from his steady ways and in keeping with the Outlaw Josey Wales persona of his rider, Brigham just stops. The  young mule comes flying past Barry and Brigham and when it reaches the end of the tow rope he is abruptly flipped 180 degrees and comes to a dead halt facing uphill.

Amazingly, everyone made it safely to camp, Jay was helped from his mount with only minor yelps and groans and a good time was had by all.  In a ceremony conducted by the Scouts the Great Mule Wrangling Team of 2012 were awarded carved bear claw awards declaring their greatness. Well, there has been a fair amount of poetic license in some of the descriptions contained herein and certainly no one's identity was changed to protect either the innocent or the guilty, but I think it goes without saying that Cowboys, Scouts and maybe even the mules enjoyed the experience of a lifetime....

A giant cowboy thank you from Baramore to Jay, Bill, Max and Wade for a memorable week of terror and laughter and incredible experiences...

The Great Cowboy Adventure of 2012 - Part III

Day 4 dawns with relief as a day off from mule guiding as our intrepid, somewhat beat up adventurers are scheduled to cook Prime Rib dinner for about 35 members of Jay, Jay's brother Kimball and Bill's Scout Troop.  They had hauled everything they needed to produce this gourmet meal in with them and gathered all the cooking tools from around camp:

Cowboy Camp

The guys had lots of moral support from the peanut gallery during meal prep.  Please note that the real cowboys don't need no stinkin' pillows or bedrolls to get comfy out on the trail....

Bill 

It may be difficult to imagine  that cooking a full-on prime rib meal would be considered restful activity but I'm guessing you'd have to have spent some time with mules and/or Boy Scouts to know the finer points of that argument.  The meal was a rousing success with declarations of extreme deliciousness and the Happy cowboys hit their "bedrolls" with just 18 more hours of boys and mules to face...

Max 

Starting with a full day and night's rest, and given the experience garnered in the previous day's miles on mule back, one might assume the following day would be uneventful, perhaps even carefree - BUT one would be wrong, way wrong, not just a little bit wrong but about as wrong as its possible to be...


Right out of the chute - no reference to the next day's rodeo event intended - first ride out and the middle of the pack forward was moving along splendidly.  However, just a few hundred yards from camp but a world of experience removed, Bill stopped to look back on some type of altercation involving flying hooves, tow ropes and a freaked out Ben (Jay's beloved and gently nurtured own mule)who at the time mistook himself for the wildest rodeo horse ever bronced. 


As Bill galloped towards the melee Jay did himself proud with a boots flying, hand raising, hat waving "yippee yie kai aye!" now some witnesses report that there was no hat and the cowboy "yippee" sounded more like "yeeeeeeeeeeee!" but he did maintain his seat in the saddle and was elevated in Bill's eyes from a passable saddler to a full-fledged mule wrangling son of a gun!

The first group delivered to the canoes were all a twitter with news of what we will henceforth  call "Jay's Wild Ride." The last group of boys to be escorted were the Scout's from Jay and Bill's own Scout troop and they were excited to be in the company of the newly promoted and officially declared real live buckaroo busting cowboy...after the lengthiest and most adamant pre-ride instructional session yet (see the following picture)....   


The group made it over the creek and through the meadow perfectly - a satisfyingly organized single file train of mules and riders just as it was intended to be throughout history...


Things were so perfect that Jay even happened upon the previously abandoned rain slicker that Barry dropped on the way to the lake...Jay, being the trustworthy,loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous, kind, obedient, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean and sometimes reverent man that he is leapt from Ben's trustworthy back to retrieve the fallen, bright yellow  rain slicker.  Anybody sensing a problem yet??
A number of options were laid open to Jay's choosing - 

1. Roll the slicker and affix to the back of his mule or 
2. Wait and hand it to the approaching Barry or, apparently, 
3. Attempt a re-mount maneuver of Ben, one-handed with the slicker waving gaily in the wind from the other hand.  

This writer would like to leave it to your judgement dear readers...what course of action do YOU think Jay took?  

Barry, "Whaaat?"

Yep, you got it, by universal agreement --- drum roll please --- Jay chose the precarious re-mounting maneuver and with one hand on the saddle, a foot in the stirrup and the slicker and with the slicker and one rein flapping away in his remaining hand, Jay attempted to climb aboard a protesting Ben.    

Now, in the interest of family harmony I have been prevented from a full and accurate accounting of the war between slicker, mule and intrepid rider but let's just say it wasn't pretty...


The quickly arriving rescue squad of fellow mule skinners were pretty sure Jay couldn't be dead even though the only sound escaping the now fish-like gulping of his mouth was a breathy "yeeaaahhhhh"  in response to the question, "Are you okay, Jay?" 


After a few moments of recuperation he remounted his slightly less trusty stead and the group once again headed for the relative safety of the camp. 

happier times with Ben

There are those who witnessed this event who were not surprised to have Jay declare that certainly the .44 magnum in the holster strapped to his hip had surely saved him from more serious injury...not that his pronounced gimp readily testified to that truth....





Not quite the end...but its coming...

The Great Cowboy Adventure of 2012 - Part II

Now, before we resume our review of the 2012 Cowboy Adventure, I think it fair to inform readers that the events herein described are not an anomaly of this one trip...

Jay and Ben 2011

In the Great Cowboy Adventure of 2011 
our courageous cowboys carefully selected  their wilderness campsite for their "Bear Hunt" - not that any bears were harmed during the endeavor....

This trip, being that is was a "Bear Hunt" involved much heavy armament and "appropriate" hunter outfits.  Heaven knows what the final REI cost entailed but I can tell you that the Idiot Son called dibs on the membership points ...hmmm..maybe not such an idiot after all...

Barry and his .460 S&W

Anyway, the carefully selected wilderness campsite soon became the target of a conflagration in the forest and they were forced to flee before the advancing flames to preserve both themselves and the mules.
Although the flames never actually reached the camp and the intrepid adventurers, they became part of a Forest Service forced evacuation....

Advance of Flames

Fleeing For Their Lives...

 My point here being that none of you should be assuming that there is anything particularly unusual going on with the events of the Great Cowboy Adventure of 2012....and like the Adventure of 2011 no wildlife or humans were harmed... too badly..


Now the great meadow incident  wasn't the first injury of the trip but Barry, being Barry aka Clint "shake it off" Eastwood, hadn't wanted to admit that he'd lost a toenail day one when he found his toe inexplicably under the foot of a 1200 pound mule...I'm not sure we'll ever know the final tally of injuries as certain Cowboys may be a little hesitant to fully inform concerns spouses of the true magnitude and insanity of this operation...

Fish Lake National Forest

Although the mule skinners had lost a man to what came to be known as The Great Meadow Accident, the day was deemed a success.  Barry was bloodied but still game.  They had ridden through unparalleled mountain vista and meadows fragrant with blooming wildflowers, saw more deer and elk than could be counted and enjoyed the work of a noble cause. They hoped this would bolster their courage for the day to come...  

You've got to wonder how anybody could complain about this duty...BEAUTIFUL!

Day 2   5:00 a.m.  finds the tired cowpokes readying the mules and their now re-expanded instructional diatribe for the day's riders who inexplicably keep signing up in droves for this unique form of torture...

Expectations are high. Bill declares his band of mule assistants to be improving from their first day's wrangling efforts.  It would be wise to here note that Bill had placed Barry and Jay on a grading system on Day 1.  Bill acknowledged that from Jay's first dismal "F" in saddling technique, steady progress was being made.  Glowing with this high praise, Jay and Barry set out determined to further impress Bill with their abilities to wrangle not just mules but Boy Scout riders as well.

Approaching danger...meadow ahead!

Mounted and instructed, the boys form up for the trip to the lake. Everyone is improving in their performance and feeling pretty good about themselves until, once again, they approach the meadow.  The mules, sensing victory, begin to browse and drink and frolic in the meadow but the vigilant cowboys know that this has disaster written all over it.


   

Look at these guys all willy nilly in the meadow...

Allowing Mule Decided Behaviors...

Mules are unique creatures in terms of their single mindedness to a cause - and their cause is to be happily in charge. This must be discouraged at all costs or chaos is the inevitable result and result it did!  

As previously discussed, the safest place around a mule is in the saddle...

The first recognition of trouble took place when Hopper (yes, the self-same mule of fence jumping, trailer-resisting fame) chose to abandon his recently well behaved demeanor to take the opportunity to drink without the permission of his rider. Instructed to "pull that mule's head up and give him a kick," the apparently auditorially  dyslexic Scout heard "give him a kick and then pull his head up." the result was an excessively startled mule who, with head loose, launched his rider with one might leap in the air, into a perfectly executed half-double flipping smack down.  Luckily, the kid was ejected onto the mushy grass of the stream bank and leapt to his feet yelling, "I'm okay! I'm okay!"     

Barry, "Again?!!?"

Sometimes the only thing left to do is watch....      


Now, having a Scout bucked from a mule serves at least one very useful purpose - the remaining Scouts, having borne witness to the spectacle, become quite diligent in the responsible operation of a mule.  In fact for one impressionable Scout his mule's desire to speed up caused quite a bit of consternation. Just as Jay and Barry were congratulating each other on how well the ride  now was going they heard an ear splitting shriek emanating from the back of the mule train. Thundering towards the front of the line came mule and rider with the horrified Scout doing his best to control the mule with wild-eyed shouts of, "Whoa! Whoa!OH MYGOSHWHOA!!!!" 

Bill, "Oh heck!"

The skinners are pleased to announce that this kid stayed in the saddle and they returned to camp without further incident.  Once again in the mode of self-congratulations the group was stunned from their reverie by shouts of "Loose mule! Loose mule!" and the thundering footfalls of boys in hot pursuit of the wayward animal joined by the yells of mule wranglers to "Stop running! Stop running!" (it is this writer's understanding that all commands issued to adolescent boys must be issued at least twice...)      


The mule was successfully caught and the now confident boys decide to have one of their number ride the mule while the other led it back to camp.  This proceeds efficiently right until the boy on the lead rope decides to short-cut it through the trees losing his companion on top of the mule to a low-hanging branch....


SCORE:  MULES 3.  PARTCIPANTS 0. And thus ended Day 2.
...

The Great Cowboy Adventure of 2012 - Part I

The following tale actually began several months ago when Barry got a call from his good friend Jay Wirig...

Jay, well aware of Barry's calming influence, made the pitch that Barry accompany him as Mule Skinner/Camp Cook on a Boy Scout High Adventure Trek into the Fish Lake NTional Forest region of Utah.  Now this trip was billed as an "opportunity" to commune with the mules and nature while instructing a "small" group of older Scouts on the finer points of mulemanship....

Although aware that we would be smack in the middle of our Tourbus Adventure into Alberta, Canada Barry lept at the chance to bear witness to one of Jay's Scout outings which achieved legendary status the year Jay sponsored an airlift of Kentucky Fried Chicken into a remote wilderness horse camp - the idea was thoughtful and generous, but, as is too often the case, lacked an essential execution detail ~ uh, perhaps a parachute affixed to the KFC would have provided a, shall we say, more intact landing.... 


 At any rate after much discussion of what caliber weaponry and ammunition and holsters and costuming might be indicated for this particular outing, Barry enthusiastically agreed to come on board as silent witness and potential rescuer in Jay's latest endeavor. Fully aware and committed, Barry left the Toubus Adventure hunkered down at Lake Pleasant, Washington and jetted off to Utah in his full cowboy regalia.


Meanwhile, back in Utah, Jay is busily stocking up at REI, Cabela's and Costco for the necessary "essentials" for the trip - read here: Hollywood style outfitting of hats, gloves, boots, weaponry (you never know when you might encounter a rogue chipmunk), propane ovens (real, for live ovens), insect-repellent cowboy neckerchiefs, and prime rib and other necessary "health" foods.  Apparently though, by later descriptions of his pants and shirt flailing attempts to annihilate insect invaders, he forgot a flyswatter...

It looked this way when they left...

Barry is picked up in High Plains Drifter-esque Style  by Jay at SLC airport in his brand new truck  that has undergone a series of important and absolutely essential modifications in order to undertake the arduous journey to Boy Scout camp.  Shortly after pick up an inventory discussion revealed gaps in the supply train which necessitated trips to Costco, Jay's storage locker and Cracker Barrel to round out the equipping of what shall henceforth and forever more be known as The Great Boy Scout High Adventure Mule Train.


Departure necessitates a 6:30 a.m. revelry call, considerable strategic discussions involving equipment loading protocols and a battle of epic proportions with a particularly recalcitrant mule named, Hopper, who ironically jumps the corral fence to avoid loading - it could be that he, Hopper, had some sort of ESP regarding the week to come....The effort to load the wayward mule involved a brief remedial training session and stern "talking to" until he came to understand "correct loading etiquette."



So with 22 mules, saddles, bridles, blankets and bits, 3 animal trailers, 3 trucks, one large tent, dining fly, cooking gear, sleepings bags, cots, ovens, coolers and hats, our intrepid gang of cowboys "ride" into the mountains of Southern Utah aboard their diesel powered "steeds." 

Despite the meticulous planning and research involved in formulating this scheme - uh- plan (we'll make that "plan") - the group found their forward route blocked by highway closure and were forced to detour onto a rigorous 30 mile stretch of narrow and tacherous dirt road. Arrival wasn't quite as bright and shiny as the beginning: 

The next morning dawns for the mule skinners scheduled to conduct the first ride of camp, transporting the Scouts ten miles to their Puffer Lake (apparently so named because it resides at about 10 million feet in elevation causing the "older" cowboys to huff and puff their way through any activity). The lake was the canoeing venue for the BSA high adventure activity and most of the boys arrived appropriately dressed for their canoeing lessons - shorts, flips flops, some pajama pants, etc.  Now you might ask yourself here about this being an appropriate dress standard for mule riding, and in the answer you'd have the beginnings of what turns into quite a tale...   

A good beginning...

The boys were carefully instructed by Bill in the required understanding of mule psychology and motivation.  They were informed about all necessary safety precautions including the prohibition on galloping, dropping reins, and never leaving the saddle.  The point was driven home with colorful and frightening descriptions of the mayhem the would ensue should a Scout, or for that matter, their adult leaders, choose to disregard this important safety briefing...

Bill and Moses

As you will soon discover the events of each day led to an ever longer and more detailed description of mule riding procedures.  


According to certain unnamed witnesses, the first day's briefing included the easily remembered, calmly administered admonition, "the safest place around a mule is in the saddle..." and progressed in ever more threatening cycles as each day's casualty count was tallied to, "If you think you want to know what falling off a mule feels like, we'll just put you in that truck and push you out at 10 miles per hour!!!"


Day 1, Ride 1 went without incident despite the fact that 80% of the Scouts had never been on an animal of any kind, and notwithstanding the fact that they were all boys in grip of adolescent bravado.  Safely delivered to their canoe instructors Group 2 is instructed and mounted onto mules for trip back to camp. 


What started as a lovely cloudless day in the mountains soon became a raging deluge of rain and hail.  What was scheduled as a 3-hour tour became the Gilligan's Island of mule adventures. Unlike Ginger of the television series fame, these boys were not so well outfitted - remember the shorts and flip flops? Even our cowboy adventurers equipped with hats, long pants, boots, and leather chaps were soaked to the skin by the time they straggled into camp at 8 o'clock at night.  

After unsaddling and hobbling the mules the weary, saddle sore and sopping wet cowboys followed the Scouts from their camp at Big John's Flat in the hopes of a hot meal.  Problematically, chow time was over at the High Adventure Camp and the prohibition on open fires in the national forest meant no warmth was forthcoming.  To the everlasting gratitude of our intrepid mule skinners President Howard Bangerter came to their rescue by firing up the stoves, cooking a hearty meal and drying their clothes in front of the ovens.


Determined to have a better second day, a new and improved edition of mule instructions were delivered to the riders before embarking on the day's journey.  Word by now was spreading that the best adventure at High Adventure Camp was being conducted by this crazy group of old guys with mules.  The vicious storm of the evening before and the freezing cold ride were legend at camp and the boys were excited and ready to take on the challenge. Of course, all the excitement was fuelled by a fair amount of first-timer apprehension as the mule neophytes approached the task.

Bill, Wade and Barry

The trepidation informed the boy's caution for about the first 3 miles of the trip but they began to lose their safety-minded anxiety  in favor of testosterone fueled posturing. Mules were encouraged into trotting and wandering and grazing in the meadows along the way.  These forbidden mule activities brought about a - hmmm - uh  - a little known military-style communication in Jay as he attempted to " encourage" the scofflaws into Mule Rule compliance. Orders could be heard from Jay's position at the rear of the line to the front of the line where Bill was trying to decipher just what was being yelled...

"PULLTOTHELEFT,PULLTOTHELEFT,KICKTHATMULE, NO!KICKHIM!NO!REALLYKICKHIM!PULLHISHEADUP!NOOO!UP!UP!" 

After each string of fear induced Drill Sargeant rants Jay would immediately assume a more fatherly and apologetic tone as he told each boy he just wanted them to be safe.  Each ride ended with Jay seeking Barry's reassurance that he hadn't been too rough on the boys to which Barry comfortingly assured Jay that the boys 'could certainly work it out in therapy later..." 

JAY AND KING BENJAMIN IN HAPPIER TIMES

Barry being calm...

Due to Barry's previous cop-informed style of leadership he decided to take the Clint Eastwood approach to supervising the boy's safety and issued his 'corrections and encouragement' in his quiet, calm and direct manner.  Thinking this contrasted nicely with Jay's more - uh- "enthusiastic"  approach he was shocked when Bill revealed later that he found even himself in instant compliance when he heard Barry issuing instruction in what Bill called, "the black voice of death." Now, dear readers, I don't know what Barry found so startling about this revelation as his subordinates, children, nieces and nephews and maybe even wife have been kowtowing to this voice for years. 
Anyway, back at the Muletrain the first of what becomes an epic Series of Unfortunate Events takes place when a rider, who shall remain nameless for the protection of the guilty, arrived in the meadow only to find riders and mules wandering through the wildflowers like a bunch of hippies in the park. Desiring to join the fun, the nameless rider encourages his mule into a gallop, unfortunately failing to realize he was currently in possession of only one rein. The mule, happily cavorting in a left leaning gallop loses his rider ever so gradually in a right-leaning drop from the saddle....


SCORE:  MULES 1.  PARTICIPANTS 0.
Stay tuned for Part II in the 4 Part Installment of The Great Cowboy Adventure of 2012.

Wizard Fest in Bothell

For several days I've been agitating to be taken to the Country Village here in Bothell.  The main attraction was the GIANT CHICKEN out in front of the place.  As anyone who has ever traveled with Wendi and me knows, a GIANT anything must be photographed and a GIANT CHICKEN all done in black and white is going to be literally irresistible!  I think my brother, who was undoubtedly feeling bad over the whole video-couch incident finally just caved to the wishes of his baby sister and you can see how happy it made me:

Well, we no more than got there and realized that there was a whole Wizard Festing Event taking place....complete with the most wizardy looking wizard I've ever seen!

This is a rustic old town type "mall" full of tiny little shops, cottages, barns and cubbyholes full of artists and fabulous one-of-a-kind kitsch - but good kitsch - really good kitsch (not the actual meaning of the word - just cool, cool stuff).  

Among the absolute treasures of this place, tucked away in a diminutive little cottage was the MOST amazing artist around whom wizards and faeries and gnomes and Santas just sprang into being.  He sculpts cottages and nursery rhyme scenes and the real for true Santa and you just want to stand there declaring, "I believe!  I believe!"  His lilliputian shop held not only his workspace but housed his art - a collection of fantastical sculptures that must surely spring to life when he turns off the light at night.  You have only to see these things to know you are just going to LOVE this guy and, sure enough, his fate was sealed when I spied his opening day Mouse Ears from Disneyland!  Just look at his work:

http://dennisbrownartist.com/

We found and Wick purchased Aunt Gwen's anniversary gift here - an incredibly detailed and stunningly fabulous hand sculpted and painted Quilting Cottage.  We walked only a short distance from his shop and found the inspiration for this work:

Aunt Gwen and the Real Quilting Cottage

Well I just have to say this was a spectacular day - we went from the Country Village up to Ballard where, for the SECOND, count 'em second day in a row we partook of the most delicious gelato I've ever tasted.  I don't know how we're gonna justify but I KNOW I've got one more scoop of Salted Caramel Gelato in me...

Okay, there is an actual explanation....

You know, a person ought to be able to have a little trouble in their life without being videotaped by the person who has been called upon to help (READ BIG BROTHER WICK)...


I'm not entirely sure how to proceed with my rebuttal here.  You'll remember that Barry is no longer with us -- he's not dead or anything -- he is cowboy-ing with Jay Wirig in the wilds of Utah - and believe you me if what we've heard so far is any indication there WILL be stories to tell about their exploits -- nevertheless, Barry is not here, he's there and I don't really want the first place he hears about here to be while he is there...I'm sure you all will understand.
Anyway, back at the Tourbus, we had terrible storms in Seattle last night:

Big thunder, lightening and buckets and buckets of rain...well, that was kind of a problem.  I ended up with a teeny, little flooding problem caused by -- wait -- I'm thinking --- a burglar who crept into the Tourbus and then failed to close the window behind him - yeah - that's it - a window opening burglar!!!


So, at any rate, I awoke to water -- hmmmm -- dribbling through the window behind the drivers seat and causing the carpet UNDER the couch to be -- uhhh -- dampish...Obviously there is a fairly urgent need to spring into action!  I grab every towel I have in the rig and, using the broom handle and the bbq tongs, begin to try to sop up the wetness.  This was necessary because I don't have long arms with which to reach behind the couch to the carpet. 


At one point Wick texts me (Gwen was getting her hair done): "What's happening"
Beth:  "I have a rain issue."
Wick: "Not good."
Beth: "Window open - wet - sopping up now." (Clearly hadn't realized about the window-opening burglar yet)
Wick: "Not good."
About 20 minutes later.....
Wick: "Need help?"
Beth: "Yep." 


About this point I've discovered a bit of a moisture spreading problem and have stripped the couch (which happens to be a fold-a-bed item) of its cushions, bedding and mattress.  Wick arrives with towels and, unfortunately, his camera.  By now I've pulled the fold-a-bed frame thingy out of the bed and off the teeny bit  wet carpet. Wick steps in to be helpful (what one would expect of a rescuer.)  After he reaches his giant long arms down behind the sofa for several minutes to soak up the dampness he needs a little rest (it was really hard work - sweat breaking kind of work actually - really - I was sweating). 
Now its my turn so I simply climb onto the fold-a-bed frame thingy where I'll be able to reach the carpet and WHANG! the whole thing just folds up on me.  This sucker literally opened up and ate me alive!  Initially it slammed me face down onto the canvas thing that hold the mattress. Honestly, it was like the jaws of death!  It was not a pretty picture and I must say I'm actually grateful that my rotten brother didn't forward that one to my idiot son.  Just sayin'....


Great! Now I'm trapped.  Trapped to the point that at one point I was wearing the dang bar like a thong - trust me, at my age you don't even want to think thong! Now most people could turn to their rescuer and say, "Hey, help me out of here would you?"  But, noooooo, I've got my brother as audience/rescuer/betrayer and what does he do?  Well, you've seen it...he whips out his ever-present camera and decides this would be an opportune moment to capture some vacation memories....


Just in case Barry does happen to see this before he gets back to Seattle....it only took a trip to WalMart, the purchase of a Bissell Green Machine and smallish fan to get everything back in tip top condition - really - it is fine.  Oh boy.  Great Scott!  I hope you're happy!  I didn't have my story straight before you spilled the beans.  Great! Word of honor though - its fine now.  

THE TOURBUS STRIKES BACK

Cue the Star Wars theme music...........

In a galaxy way too close to home, a lone crazy woman battles to save herself from the terror of the Dark Lord Fol Ding Cow-Cha. I could be mistaken as it maybe Jaba Da C'ouch that's got her in his jaws.

Needless to say, we hope Han D Donkey Herder will come to her rescue soon. Clearly the lack of proper meals has left her in a weakened state. We pray that the Rebel Forces will be able to overcome this set back on their journey to Tatooine.

Here it is on YouTube in case you want to forward it.

http://youtu.be/LeaXqR645Vc

The Mule Team Is On the Move!

We heard from Barry this morning.  They had loaded up 21 mules, saddles, gear, tents, and perhaps some Borax, although we're not positive on that, even though it seems likely.  They were headed out and the following is as much as I know about his location:
http://www.findmespot.com/mylocation/?id=8eoRp/38.34464N/112.40039W
If you click on the link you will see their location via satellite.  Near as I can figure they are somewhere in the Fishlake National Forest which I believe to be in Utah.  Maybe if we all listen real hard we will be able to hear their spurs a jingle, jangle, jingling along.... And yes, Scott, this does mean that the SPOT device is with Dad and I am loose without any tracking device. Ha!

Ten Gallon Hat

I have only one comment regarding dominoes this evening.  I didn't win...That's it.

And he rode off into the sunset....

Today we transported Barry, his huge backpack and his ten-gallon hat to Sea-Tac Airport.  I'm telling you when we dropped him at the curb and he turned to leave he looked like the gen-u-ine article.  He was duded up in jeans, honest to goodness cowboy boots and the most gigantic cowboy hat this side of them thar hills.  He cut quite a dashing figure and turned many a head as he John Wayned his way into the terminal.  It put a smile on my face, I'll tell you!  In his backpack was his Satellite GPS device, his I Pad, his spurs and maybe even a string tie....although I can't testify to the truthfulness of that last claim.  


He was met in Salt Lake City by our good friend Jay Wirig who undoubtedly has both himself and Barry outfitted with honest to goodness cowboy slickers, chaps and whatever other embellishments are necessary or even available to modern cowboy-hood.  They are set to serve as Mule Skinners for the next week and this is sort of how I picture him out there in the back of beyond:

Meanwhile, back at Lake Pleasant the rest of us are getting by on a killer Shrimp Salad made by the very capable hands of my brother -- I was present when it was set out on the table, though.  We languished around camp, played a round of dominoes (only as far as the 6's and I am in the lead by the way...) and then went for a walk around the lake.  Here is our sunset view:

Check out the reflection of camping rigs in the lake....

Big hello there to all the happy folks enthralled with the Tourbus Blog Tales as well as the adventurous foursome travelling down the world's highways. As most of the long time followers know, and certainly all of the family is aware, I could not let a post such as the previous go unchallenged.

First, as to the word "Brilliant." Yes this word is banned from my mother's vocabulary as she nearly killed the entire family one year during which she proclaimed her own brilliance following which nearly every member of the family was besieged by plague, misfortune, bankruptcy, natural disaster or other near fatal condition. That year was only topped by the year she proclaimed as the "Year of the Dansie," 2005-2006 as I recall. Yep, I paid the price for that one with a heart condition that landed me off work for nearly a year while being experimented on with various medications and surgeries, escaping with a slight slur, limp, near-sightedness, male pattern baldness and other general malaise and misfortune. I think Elisa was visited by a locust swarm that year, Jamie's car tried to commit suicide and I'm pretty sure we lost Bud to a travelling band of carnival workers. Thankfully he showed up the following year none the worse for the wear with nothing more than a few more unexplainable tattoos.

Second as to her cooking. I will allow the following photo to serve as inspiration.



Yep, frozen ground beef mixed with various dry ingredients resulted in various meals that all looked and tasted identical. Not once did I ever see anything that looked like the meal on the cover. I'm pretty sure it was a conspiracy launched by America's ground beef manufacturers, flour producers and Pyrex bakeware.

During the early years, I recall being drug to the old Fry's Grocery Store and being in awe at the entire isles devoted to various foodstuffs in white or yellow boxes with large black letters proclaiming their contents.



      

Yummy, Luncheon Loaf so evil it could only exist in black and white.

As far as staving off malnutrition, I'm pretty sure that's because dad taught us the basic food groups.

Butter
Anything fried in butter
Anything with butter in or on it
French toast with ketchup
Grilled cheese
Ice Cream - Square box - actual half-gallon (don't get him started about the new 1.75 quart containers)
Dehydrated potatoes
Cheese - with the mold cut off, because after all, what do you think cheese actually is.
Beef
Frozen Bon Bons - which we had to eat before we got home from the store or else they lost all nutritional value

So my word to the wise, don't visit mom when dad's not home. If you do, pack a lunch. I once saw my mother come home from the store with nothing but a six pack of bottled soda, hot dog buns and Excedrin claiming she went to find something for dinner. And no, we didn't have hot dogs at home.

I now return you to your regularly scheduled programming. - Scott

A NOTE FROM THE MOTHER -- LIES! ALL A PACK OF MADE UP HOKUM!   And! Don't you have better stuff to do with your time?    Mom

Bothell Washington -- How Long Can I Stay?

We are in the BEST campground of ALL TIME!!! I'm not kidding and in the spirit of a picture and a thousand words take yourselves a look:

We are down in a little valley surrounded by gorgeous green pines in Pleasant Valley RV Park where every single site has a lake view and it really is - "pleasant" that is...  This photo is taken from the lawn behind our Tourbus.  I gotta say - this time without any exaggeration - you'd have to call this place idyllic.  Wick and Gwen and I will be hunkered down here for the next week while Barry flies off to join his friend Jay as Mule Skinner/Camp Cook for a Boy Scout Woodbadge camping trip.  


There is a slight worry that this could take a turn for the worse with Barry otherwise occupied in Montana, Utah, Wyoming or one of those square states that I can never remember...no, we aren't worried about his wilderness expedition.  We are worried, deeply so, about who is going to feed us.  Now I'm told that Wick can operate a pretty mean barbecue and Gwen whips up a mighty fine fruit salad but I'm just useless.  I subscribe to the notion that a woman only has so many meals in her and mine have clearly run out... And, by the way, before my ungrateful children start with their two cents worth, it is untrue that I NEVER cooked.  I did.  They're all alive and obviously well nourished....just sayin'....


I've wandered off in my description here.  Back to camp, one of the funnest things here is the lake full of ducks and bullfrogs.  Now the owners are adamant that they don't want anybody feeding the wildlife but they said nothing about "talking" to the ducks.  I just wasn't aware until today that we have a couple of Duck Whisperers in the family.  I swear I think this little pack of ducks would have followed Wick and Heather anywhere.  

Heather Duck Whispering

Wick Holding Court With Ducks

Barry fed us a fabulous last meal and then we invited Heather to participate in a "friendly" game of dominoes.   My eldest son, Scott, claims I can't say the word "brilliant" without practically dooming the entire family to a string of bad luck so I won't declare myself "brilliant," perhaps just "gifted" or maybe "savant-like" or even "amazing".....But, I'll just let all of you be the judge:

Small Picture So Nobody Accuses Me of Rubbing It In...