Gobble, gobble

Yes, there has been a paucity of postings on the blog this week. Has disaster befallen the dynamic duo? Did the Willamette River sweep us away? A bad bottle of Two-buck Chuck?

Nope. None of the above. It’s just been a very relaxing week along the river. Reading, book promotion duties (by Janice---who scored a nice write up in Oregon’s major newspaper—the Oregonian--see: http://www.oregonlive.com/books/oregonian/index.ssf?/base/entertainment/121554871256370.xml&coll=7), and the evening Scrabble. Interspersed have been bike rides, golf at the local links (Circle Bar Golf Club), a trip or two to town for groceries at Ray’s Food Place, and some minimal sightseeing.

Speaking of minimal sightseeing, the local “what to do in Oakridge” lists a few hot spots to visit, so we decided to work our way down the list. Number one: Visit the fish hatchery. The fish hatchery??? You know it’s slim pickins when the fish hatchery is the town’s number one attraction, but as reported earlier, no bowling alley and no rollerdrome, and there is no evidence of a movie theater in town, either. So a visit to the fish hatchery is at least a starter. On the plus side, the grounds are beautifully landscaped and well maintained, thanks in part to volunteer hosts who live on the premises (we visited with one couple). In fact, the grounds are so nice, that they probably hold weddings there, with the gurgle of fingerling ponds playing in the background.
(This presumes, of course, that folks get married in Oakridge. It’s more likely that couples are joined together by a simple, “Wud ya like to ride in my pick-up truck?”)

There are some lunkers in the holding ponds, ripening for a September spawn (no doubt the local schools close for a few days while the kiddies view this ritual). Mostly though, there are rows and rows of salmon and steelhead fingerling raceways. A 25 cent handful of fish pellets tossed in the water brings a frenzied response of flashing silver beating the surface to a froth. These fish have been conditioned like Pavlov’s dog.

The bike rides have been spectacular, though they were temporarily suspended for a few days. After walking 18 holes of golf a couple days at the Circle Bar, my legs needed some rest. And Janice---well let’s just say that certain parts of her anatomy are still getting used to the bicycle seat. She is hoping for some padded cycling pants or a new gel seat when we go to Eugene tomorrow—our link to the 21st century.

Also on the shopping list is an antenna extension for our Sirius radio. In jockeying the rig for a southern view exposure for the TV-Internet satellite antenna, we parked under a tall conifer that covers the front part of the rig. The Sirius satellite is straight overhead—thus we are radio-less. (The AM-FM radio in these parts features music selections apparently drawn by lottery. Nice jazz is followed by hip-hop -- is followed by rap -- is followed by Olivia Newton John—get the point?) The extension will allow us to reposition the antenna to the back of the rig, where there is an unobstructed shot straight up to the very edge of the universe. There’s a Sirius satellite up there somewhere.

Golf at the Circle Bar is great practice. After 9 a.m., it is a course with few players (The course understandably touts itself as “the course where you don’t need a starting time”.)
Teeing off solo, I played 2 or three balls per hole, and tossed a few more balls on the grass around the greens to work on short game stuff. The greens, plush and soft, are about the size of my living room, making good approach shots a premium. With my discount coupon from the RV park, golf was a buck a hole, and $2.00 bought me a hot dog for lunch.
Warning: (Guys) This is not a course you want to play on ladies day—Wednesday. They let me on the course, after agreeing to give priority to any group of women. No problem there, but there were some behemoths ahead of me in the process of recording (high) record scores. Slow?? Worse than slow. But I gladly let the gals behind me play through while I enjoyed a seat on a shady bench. By 11:00 all were off the course and enjoying their gin and tonics at the club house and I played the final nine without a pause.

One warm day here this week (95) while we read and hear about the 110 degree smoke-filled days back home in Sacramento. We just hang out at the rig, sitting in the shade, enjoying clear skies and temps in the low 80s. A breeze blows up river most of the day, taking the edge off of whatever heat there is. The breeze is so constant that it is almost annoying. It is really the first time in our Rv life that we have stayed in a place for more than 3-4 days. Yes, we are suffering.

A picture is worth a thousand words (except when most of the words in the picture are misspelled). I snapped the picture below of an “ad” I was on the bulletin board at Ray’s Food Place. These bulletin boards are typically a barometer of the surrounding culture.
Amidst the for sale notices for firewood, pick-up trucks and “free kittens to good home” was this one that seems to marked a “low” in the cultural barometer of Oakridge.