When the weather forecast suggested a hundred degree temperatures, Sylvia started fretting. I don’t want to think about it, I told her. Knowing and not being able to do anything is not a good combination.
But when Sylvia suggested that we get out of Dodge and avoid record-breaking temperatures, I wasn’t about to say no.
It took her a while to find a hotel willing to take dogs. Three large dogs.
Our room at the Silver Sands, the most unswankiest place I’ve ever stayed at, wasn’t going to be ready until three, so we weren’t in that much of a hurry; as long as we beat the heat.
Immediately, I started taking pictures on our way out of town. I’ve got enough pictures for many blogs. I’ll let time, length, and my short attention span be my guide. Time is not on my side for this blog. Beauty through a dirty window. If it weren’t for the splash of orange, this photo would have landed in the trash can, but there wasn’t something about the orange, the blurring of trees, and even the dirty window that caused me to keep it. What do you think?
It’s not that I’m paying that close attention to the pictures that I take. In fact, the glare in the car was so bad, that I hadn’t the slightest idea what images I was taking. I suspected that most were not going to be worthwhile.
It took us a half an hour to meander our way to West 11th. I convinced Sylvia to take the back roads. Lorraine Highway. Spencer Creek Highway. Not sure why these twisty rural roads are deemed highways.
Our first stop was in Veneta. The Subaru had a quarter of a tank. Florence is only sixty-one miles away from Eugene. Sylvia was anxious to get out of town quickly and get the dogs out of the hot car. We weren’t the only ones who decided to fill up.
The next time I complain about my 2004 vehicles, I’ll think about this 1988. I don’t imagine the lug nuts will be easy to get off of it.
And the adventure continues. The first sign of the Siuslaw River. Now I’m regretting have a dirty windshield. I’ll have to do something about that on the way home.
After the fourth time Sylvia mentioned, Sometimes A Great Notion, I lost track. Ken Kesey. The novel turned movie was filmed somewhere along the stretch that we were driving by.
As I mentioned, time is not on my side with this blog. Since I don’t have a garden to weed first thing in the morning, I’ll just pick up where I left off if that’s okay with you.