Adios Geezerville

We made an early morning escape from Geezer-ville, abandoning the WIT rally and heading northeast to Silverton on Highway 22. I suppose I should halt the snickers, as we really got a preview of what our life may be in 10 years. After a game of bean-bag baseball ("Yer out!" if you run.) the folks enjoyed many guffaws last night as an 80 year old country western singer entertained. Lotsa group participation, including everybody wearing pie-plate chicken hats and doing the chicken dance.

Priot to dinner the sponsoring Winnebago dealer hosted wine and cheese. As a sign of the times, the wine was poured from Franzia wine-in-the-box, even though we were deep in the heart of Oregon’s most fertile vineyards. The wine was poured in 4 oz paper cups---some less than half-filled---an amount appropriate for communion maybe, but not to kick off happy hour. We retreated the rig for Scrabble and 3 buck Chuck.

Arriving at Silverton’s Silver Spur RV Resort (a good one) by 9:30 a.m., we set up camp and then had an early lunch before biking to he nearby Oregon Gardens, a horticultural oasis last visited a couple years ago on on a hot day with Carly—as we recalled. Hopped on the tram for a quick once-over and then rode the bikes through Silverton and then north to Mt. Angel. I spied a peleta vendor peddling his goodies in front of the local church (see lower left of church photo), and was able to treat myself to a cocoanut peleta---first one in about 10 years. The return trip took us through hill and dale of rolling farmlands and finally the Gallon Bridge, so named for its location on the route of former moonshiners. A 15 mile ride. More Scrabble upon our return. It’s a cozy warm evening. Dinner outside.