Yet Another View From 19E

It’s nice to have a new pocket camera for taking snapshots out of the plane window. It was cloudy most of the way so I didn’t see Mt. Thielsen, Diamond Peak, or Crater Lake. I snapped this shortly after takeoff from PDX.

As I walked in the gentle mist in Folsom, I heard someone say, “This is Portland weather.” It made me feel right at home. :-)

Headed Home in 16A

I sit in Sacramento airport’s Terminal B, surveying the fields to the north.

It’s quiet here now. The flights to Seattle and LA have pushed back, emptying the terminal of their travelers. The ventilation fans are taking a rest. A lady nearby chats on her mobile.

A kid in a baggy knit hat pulls his guitar out of a case adorned with a God sticker. He tunes his guitar briefly, then strums a few chords. I take my empty Frappuccino cup to the trash as an excuse to move closer to the guitar — and farther from the cell phone. He begins singing. I try to make out the words, but he sings softly.

A TSA announcement drones over the PA. No one pays any heed and the kid starts another song, a little louder now, then quits to listen to a gate change announcement. The kid puts his guitar away and walks back to the center of the terminal.

My plane has landed and passengers emerge.

It’s nice to be headed home.

Road Trip: Fair Oaks, CA to Dixie, WA

Yesterday, we made an unplanned road trip to Dixie, Wash. to visit family.

Although the trip was supposed to take nearly fourteen hours, we made a few stops along the way. There were random vista points, a photo op with a sign in front of Taco Bell in Weed, CA, a couple of work zones on Highway 97, and a fun restroom stop in Dorris, CA where we discovered what, when erected, was the largest flagpole in the United States. We also stopped at Sunriver (where we recently vacationed) to enjoy milkshakes from Goody’s and pizza from Blondie’s. Mmm… :-)

Fifteen hours later, we de-carred. Even though the scenery was beautiful, I wouldn’t want to make that drive every day.

At one vista point on Highway 97, I met an older gentleman riding a bike to Chico on his way to Southern California. From there, he was headed the southern route to Kentucky. Last year, he’d biked 3,000 miles. This year, he’s already biked 2,000.