Sentimental journeys

We continue to mosey.

Reluctantly we left the Oregon Coast behind last Thursday, choosing to drive from Bandon to Eugene via the Umpqua River route, always a pleasant drive, but particularly pleasing on a sunny day. We stopped at the elk-viewing spot, and saw more elk, probably our last viewing this trip. But we can't be complaining about our elk viewing on this trip. We almost have biology degrees. I was kind of lobbying to drive up the coast on 101 all the way to Astoria and stay at the state park there with its old fort and shipwreck, but it was not to be. We chose instead to spend a few days in Eugene, where R & I lived for two years way back when. In recent years it's been another one of those places that we have just driven by on the I-5, so we decided it was time to poke around a bit. Best laid plans, etc., however -- we didn't get to poke around as much as I had thought we might, but we had a lovely time nonetheless.

We stayed at our old standby, Premier Resorts Eugene, and were greeted by a devoted kildeer pair who had chosen to lay eggs on the river rock that divided our site from the next one, right in there with the big RVs. Crazy kids. But devoted they were and we watched as they sat through pouring rain and high wind and dogs walking by and all kinds of mayhem, getting up occasionally to take on those who were getting too close, faking, as they are wont to do, broken legs and wings and flashing tail feathers as if they were semi-automatic weapons. Amazing displays. But even more amazing is their ability to camouflage. Even when one of them was sitting on the nest, most of the time you couldn't see them, so well did they blend in -- even when you KNEW they were there. When we left, the eggs were still intact and the kildeer were still tag-teaming to keep 'em warm and protected. What a treat to watch. Mother Nature, you rock.

Where's Waldo Kildeer? She's in there somewhere. . .

We also managed to get in a little (very little) geocaching at a beautiful spot along the Mackenzie River. It was there we got to watch several demonstrations of fly fishing (steelhead, apparently) by a few intrepid souls who were waist high in the swelling waters of the river. An elegant practice to behold. And we watched an osprey pair building a nest on a 120-year-old bridge. Seems to be nesting season. And the trees were budding and the wildflowers were out and it was all too glorious.

Armitage Park, Coburg

H&A find the geocache!

Osprey on the high girder, with partner balancing behind.

One day R took H to Hayward Field, the legendary state-of-the-art track on the U of O campus that was, amazingly, open for anyone to walk onto and run a few laps, which H did. The next day, we all went. We sat in the stands and watched and all had twinges of the stands being filled with cheering fans and HW killing 'em at the Olympic trials in 2030 or so. It was cool. Go Ducks!

Dreaming of the day?

Coincidentally, we had been having a conversation about track and field earlier, javelin throwing in particular, and when we walked into the track stadium, lo and behold, there was the javelin-throwing team practicing. H was awe struck. "Wow!" he said, and was transfixed for two minutes or so, which is an amazingly long time for our boy. Perhaps he will become a professional javelin thrower? Wow, I say again -- underwhelming, but if that's what he wants . . .

It was a bit nostalgic being back in Eugene, the emotional twist being that neither of us recognized a thing. We didn't go by the old house, which we think isn't even there anymore, replaced as old homes are, by suburban sprawl. Nor did we drive by the place I used to work, which I think was torn down years ago, or call any old friends, who we haven't been in touch with for years, or do all kinds of other things that could have filled our time. Just as well. You can go home again apparently, but you shouldn't expect to find anything familiar. We did go downtown to Fifth Street where they have made a valiant effort at revitalization in some smart shops in some old buildings. It was disturbingly dead, but interesting, and we bought some African trinkets. Hmm.

Still, it was a sentimental journey. We left in '69 after R got his master's degree, and moved to the Slocan, where we spent the next 20 years or so. I found myself wondering what would have happened if we had stayed -- a pointless exercise, for sure, but it was a turning point for us, so not a surprising thing to contemplate, and I spent a few minutes remembering old friends, old times, and some specific moments that I thought I'd forgotten. Ah, time travel.

We spent last night in Woodland, Oregon, at the Columbia Riverfront, the RV park we stayed at on the way down. It's a nice place and will probably be on our list for the next trip. It's right on the -- wait for it -- Columbia River, and we watched the  boats going up and down the river in front of us. The real working boats have high conning towers and look very different from those we see on the Fraser River, so they were interesting to see -- all shapes and sizes. We also saw some of the familiar super-cargo ships that pass by our place in Steveston. And we got to watch the final basketball game of the NCAA tournament, which by some accounts may be the best game game every played in the history of the NCAA. So, you know, worth doing.

Today we continued north on the I-5, and we're in Mount Vernon. Vancouver has started appearing on the mileage signs, so I guess we're heading home. We are not rushing home quite yet, though, as we will spend a couple of days here to visit the Tulip Festival, and THEN . . . we will be home.