Visiting with Bob and Helen has long been one of our favorite things to do… so much so that when we started considering moving out of the Santa Cruz area, Cottage Grove was the place that drew us. Meeting up with them at their “time share” (they do their best to reserve site 41 at Schwarz Campground every year about this time) has been our calendar since before we began The Journey. The campground is only a few minutes drive from their ranch, giving a great mix of convenience, should they find they forgot something or have an emergency to deal with, while providing a change of mental space and change of scenery.

Ideally, we’d be parked next to them, but to seek maximum solar, and a shot at the southern sky for the satellite dish (more important than usual here, since the Sprint aircard doesn’t have a signal), we went for the most open site we could find that was still a reasonable distance from them.

Our thoughts have been wrapped up in news from Texas, as Hurricane Ike churns across the Gulf of Mexico. When we bought the Canyon Lake house, an identified function was for it to serve as “evacuation central” for Dennis, Nancy and Nicole. Little did we know how soon that would be needed. We’ve watched the forecasted track shift back and forth for the past few days, a little farther north, and then farther south, and Rockport looked like it was going to take the hit. We’re happy to know that our loved ones have a place to be and that they are among the rational people who leave before the roads jam and lines at gas stations become insane. Ike’s track shifted north, insuring that our family’s home would be okay. Houston and Galveston won’t be so lucky.

Other than worrying about Ike, we’ve been spending our time mostly hanging out together in camp or walking the dogs. Then, while everything seemed like a typical evening, with dinner was almost ready and Helen preparing to test driving Laura’s bike for a second time, the world shifted. Helen’s sister Michele showed up in camp to deliver the news that Bernice (their 102-year-old mother) had passed away. She had a massive heart attack during dinner and was gone. As hard as the loss of a loved one can be, there is much to be grateful in this passing. Michele, who lives in the Bay Area, happened to be in Oregon. She had taken Bernice to lunch at her favorite restaurant earlier in the day and Bernice had a nice visit with her precious Bluebelle (a tiny little lap dog). Bernice loved life till the end. What a role model!

Bob, Helen and Michele left to make the necessary arrangements. We had dinner waiting for them when they returned. We couldn’t help but think of other times along the way when our role has been to support others getting hard news. We had just picked up a “get well” card for Pete and a sympathy card for another woman who lost her husband in Santa Cruz.

We meandered over to Bob and Helen’s camp in the morning, drawn by a sound that we thought was made by river otters. We were rewarded with a viewing of a Bald Eagle, first perched on a branch across the river, then taking wing and flying up the river, a moment later, Bob spotted what turned out to be an entire family of otters directly across on the other bank. We spent over half an hour watching them until they flushed off into the water.

It was time to turn our attention to breaking camp, hitching up and heading out. A final stop for hugs and kisses and we’re back on the road at the crack of two (p.m.), en route to the Rogue River.

We rolled into Cannon Beach, Oregon about 3:30 pm last Saturday, and stopped at Jupiter’s Rare and Used Books to see our good friend, Jennifer. We found the family all there, except for Watt, who was at a rehearsal for Our Town. We spent what was left of the afternoon visiting with Roan, Willa and Jennifer. Ginger was in heaven in the bookstore, being the center of attention. When Watt returned, Jennifer excused herself to attend to an impending childbirth (she is apprenticed as a midwife). Watt took us to dinner at Bill’s Tavern, a local brewpub that serves up some of the best fish and chips ever. Their standard is cod, but you can also get halibut if you prefer. (Says Laura… the homemade root beer is to-die-for too!)

After dinner, we relocated to their property… 20+ acres of forested hillside overlooking the Nehalem River Valley. Upon arrival, we had an exciting time maneuvering their driveway, which circles all the way around the house. After walking it, we knew it would be tight, but believed it was manageable. Well, there was one point where it was a little tighter than we thought and the tires on the driver’s side started to ride up on a stump hidden under some foliage. Had we not stopped, it looked as if the trailer could have tipped over. Now we were fully committed, and backing out didn’t turn out to be any easier than going forward. With Roan watching the front wheels of the truck to make sure I knew before driving off the edge, and Laura watching from behind, we repositioned a few times before finally getting to a place that allowed us to swing wide enough to make it through the turn and come to rest in a safe and level place. Whew! That was stressful! Our most challenging condition since the day we first took the trailer up to the Fern Flat property, but that is another story.

As we were driving in to the area, we noticed a lot of down trees. We’ve seen quite a few logging jobs over the years, and what we saw looked like some really shoddy work. What we learned from Jennifer is that, in reality, we were seeing the remnants of a wind event that came through here last fall. Their wind gauge broke at 139 mph. Shingles were torn from their roof and a number of very large trees were uprooted next to the driveway. It must have been terrifying.

Watt made a dish for breakfast that we’d never had before: Dutch Baby. I haven’t a clue where the name came from, but it was a treat, something like a crepe in flavor, something a bit like a soufflé in texture… anyway, it was very tasty. It seems like a really good dish to serve when having company for a Sunday brunch. Then, we all (except for Jennifer, who was still with the expectant mother) packed up and went to one of the girl’s favorite swimming holes on the Nehalem River. It was a delight to join Willa and Roan as the leapt into the current to be carried downstream, swimming to shore, walking back up and starting over again (and again and again). It turned out to be just down the road from the campground we stayed at the last time we visited, a couple of years ago. The water wasn’t quite as warm as Canyon Lake or the Gulf. Actually, it was quite brisk. They are a couple of the coolest kids on the planet. Willa gives her age as “twelve and four quarters” because she isn’t ready to be a teenager, although she is more mature than many adults we know. Roan is a dreamer. At nine, she entertains herself quite well and appreciates the work of Van Gogh. In the later afternoon, I found the girls on the Internet, looking at posters made from paintings done by a French artist. Not standard fare for their age group.

In the morning, we got up in time to see Willa off to school. Jennifer had finally made it home around 2 a.m. The labor was long but Mother and baby both came through in good shape. We felt fortunate to have a few hours to catch up with her before heading out. It was great fun to watch Noche frolicking with Leche, a two year old Great Pyrenees guardian dog.

Even though it has been years between visits, once we are back together and start talking, it almost seems as if we’d seen each other last week. After breakfast, it was time for the morning rituals of tending to the chickens and milking the goats, and Jen needed to sleep. For us, it was time to hitch up and get on our way.