August 28th, 2006
Hello to all,
I believe the last update was describing utter disaster trying to leave Boise. As drive day number 1 turned out, the rain subsided, and a new spare tire was found thanks to a very kind man at the tire place in Coeur d’Alene who happened to live on the store property. When he saw Chris slowly pull away with disappointment, he stopped and offered to help. It just so happened that he had a good fit for a spare and sold it to Chris for ten bucks (what a deal!). After catching his second wind, Chris decided to continue north to Priest Lake and find a spot to camp.
Camping was not nearly as restful as he'd hoped but at least things were dry. Apparently, Friday night in that neck of the woods is "get stupid drunk in the woods" night, and purely coincidentally also happens to be the late night run of the Northern Pacific Rail Road conveniently scheduled every hour and twenty minutes, foot noted with a good solid blare of the train whistle. Needless to say, the dog barked non-stop in protest of the drunks and again in fear of the train which Chris mentioned rattled the widows of the camper shell to sound like a student Tuba player in a marching band. I guess the cat thought that was soothing and slept without incident for the entire night.
Chris finally gave up on sleep at about 6:30 in the morning, made himself some steak and eggs over the campfire along with a very stiff cup of cowboy coffee and set out for the border. Roughly 50 miles to the North of Priest Lake, the Canadian border sprawls nicely over a very green lawn and has 4 or 5 lanes to allow traffic to go through. Cars and light truck in one lane, trucks with trailers and larger vehicles in another, and long haul trucks and miscellaneous vehicles in the others. When Chris made his first attempt at the border, he was turned away because the tail light had simply fallen off of the boat trailer, and the registration tag for trailer was recently expired (though the boat atop the trailer was up to date). Much to his dismay, they refused to let him go through with these minor technicalities and wanted him to drive all the way back to Bonneville (the nearest place to update registration 2 hours away). Feeling rather defeated, tired, and disgusted with the whole thing, he followed the Mounty's instructions, about-faced, and turned back to the lower 48 to ponder his thoughts.
So the old saying goes- "Desperation is the Mother of Invention?" Somewhere in the boat Chris remembered some duct tape or glue, and decided to glue the light back on the trailer. No one said the light had to actually work, and besides he wasn't driving at night anyway (at least that was his reasoning). He then proceeded to remove the license plate from the front of the truck (front plates not required in Canada), and while his next move was not entirely illegal, it was creatively splitting hairs rather finely. He decided to gently peel the shiny new "07" registration sticker from the truck and stick it over the recently expired boat trailer registration sticker. In Idaho, you are granted a full 30 days to take care of an expired tag, but there was no such grace in Canada, so the little fib was carried out. Since he had to account for time, he had a leisurely lunch with the dog, and then made a second attempt at the border. Apparently the Mounty's don't care whether there is paper work to verify things like registration, only that things appear to be legal, and with that, he paid a $50.00 fire arms fee (for the hunting rifle), and off he went, no questions asked.
I got a very relieved call from Chris as he entered into the area near Lake Louise, stating that for the first time, he felt that the trip was going rather smoothly, and was going to try to make Prince George before dark. Lax was drooling on his leg, and sleeping most of the way along with cat. He'd gotten a very early start and felt confident that if he didn't run out of gas or get another flat, he'd make it to the vicinity which was approaching 1/3 of the way to Anchorage. Initially he was going to go through Calgary, but had heard a weather report on the radio mentioning that they were enduring very high winds and warned truck drivers and others hauling trailers to use caution. Chris took the warning seriously and altered his coarse to go through Banff and Lake Louise instead.
After spending the night outside of Prince George, Chris set his sites on Dawson City, British Columbia for Sunday's goal. He called several times on Sunday to announce that if we hated Alaska, we'd be moving to Canada. I guess he was quite taken with the scenery. He mentioned enthusiastically that fall was in full swing, that temperatures were only creeping up into the 50's, night time lows were in the 30's, and that he might get a hotel for the first time so he could take a shower and sleep in a real bed. Later that day, he called and said he was scrapping the idea of a hotel because they were to darned expensive. The average affordable motel being a mere step above a brothel was priced at a handsome fee of $150.00 US dollars which inspired Chris to camp near a river for another night. There, at least he could take a dip in river, wash up, and move on. I know he was going to try to make it at least past Edmonton for today (Monday), but wasn't quite sure how close he'd get to the next border crossing. I'm guessing either the cell phone broke or he's been in the woods and out of cell service because I haven't heard a word from him today. I called him and left a message or two wishing him a safe drive and fair weather and hope that he gets to an area where he can call soon.
As for the local end of things, Zev and I are doing just fine. We walked 8 miles round trip yesterday evening to return some movie rentals, then to a corner cafe for a quick bite to eat, and back home to get the house ready for another potential buyer. I've had 3 inquiries about the house over the last couple of days, and the first interested party (Tim as is turns out), is coming back for a 3rd look on Wednesday. I'm quite optimistic the house will sell in due time, and that I will get a fair price for it as well. I'll admit things are quiet here at the house, but long walks and a healthy glass of red wine now and then pass the time quite nicely. There is not a single weed in the garden, the tomatoes are ripening nicely, and I'm desperately looking for new squash recipes as they are exploding out of control. The ponds are clear, and the raccoons have left us alone which means I've caught up on some much needed sleep. My work has kept me very busy, and I've managed to find time for flying and artwork alike. Things are looking good from my perspective and I have no real complaints. Life is good.
More to come in a few days-
Vered
(and Zev too.)
Hello to all,
I believe the last update was describing utter disaster trying to leave Boise. As drive day number 1 turned out, the rain subsided, and a new spare tire was found thanks to a very kind man at the tire place in Coeur d’Alene who happened to live on the store property. When he saw Chris slowly pull away with disappointment, he stopped and offered to help. It just so happened that he had a good fit for a spare and sold it to Chris for ten bucks (what a deal!). After catching his second wind, Chris decided to continue north to Priest Lake and find a spot to camp.
Camping was not nearly as restful as he'd hoped but at least things were dry. Apparently, Friday night in that neck of the woods is "get stupid drunk in the woods" night, and purely coincidentally also happens to be the late night run of the Northern Pacific Rail Road conveniently scheduled every hour and twenty minutes, foot noted with a good solid blare of the train whistle. Needless to say, the dog barked non-stop in protest of the drunks and again in fear of the train which Chris mentioned rattled the widows of the camper shell to sound like a student Tuba player in a marching band. I guess the cat thought that was soothing and slept without incident for the entire night.
Chris finally gave up on sleep at about 6:30 in the morning, made himself some steak and eggs over the campfire along with a very stiff cup of cowboy coffee and set out for the border. Roughly 50 miles to the North of Priest Lake, the Canadian border sprawls nicely over a very green lawn and has 4 or 5 lanes to allow traffic to go through. Cars and light truck in one lane, trucks with trailers and larger vehicles in another, and long haul trucks and miscellaneous vehicles in the others. When Chris made his first attempt at the border, he was turned away because the tail light had simply fallen off of the boat trailer, and the registration tag for trailer was recently expired (though the boat atop the trailer was up to date). Much to his dismay, they refused to let him go through with these minor technicalities and wanted him to drive all the way back to Bonneville (the nearest place to update registration 2 hours away). Feeling rather defeated, tired, and disgusted with the whole thing, he followed the Mounty's instructions, about-faced, and turned back to the lower 48 to ponder his thoughts.
So the old saying goes- "Desperation is the Mother of Invention?" Somewhere in the boat Chris remembered some duct tape or glue, and decided to glue the light back on the trailer. No one said the light had to actually work, and besides he wasn't driving at night anyway (at least that was his reasoning). He then proceeded to remove the license plate from the front of the truck (front plates not required in Canada), and while his next move was not entirely illegal, it was creatively splitting hairs rather finely. He decided to gently peel the shiny new "07" registration sticker from the truck and stick it over the recently expired boat trailer registration sticker. In Idaho, you are granted a full 30 days to take care of an expired tag, but there was no such grace in Canada, so the little fib was carried out. Since he had to account for time, he had a leisurely lunch with the dog, and then made a second attempt at the border. Apparently the Mounty's don't care whether there is paper work to verify things like registration, only that things appear to be legal, and with that, he paid a $50.00 fire arms fee (for the hunting rifle), and off he went, no questions asked.
I got a very relieved call from Chris as he entered into the area near Lake Louise, stating that for the first time, he felt that the trip was going rather smoothly, and was going to try to make Prince George before dark. Lax was drooling on his leg, and sleeping most of the way along with cat. He'd gotten a very early start and felt confident that if he didn't run out of gas or get another flat, he'd make it to the vicinity which was approaching 1/3 of the way to Anchorage. Initially he was going to go through Calgary, but had heard a weather report on the radio mentioning that they were enduring very high winds and warned truck drivers and others hauling trailers to use caution. Chris took the warning seriously and altered his coarse to go through Banff and Lake Louise instead.
After spending the night outside of Prince George, Chris set his sites on Dawson City, British Columbia for Sunday's goal. He called several times on Sunday to announce that if we hated Alaska, we'd be moving to Canada. I guess he was quite taken with the scenery. He mentioned enthusiastically that fall was in full swing, that temperatures were only creeping up into the 50's, night time lows were in the 30's, and that he might get a hotel for the first time so he could take a shower and sleep in a real bed. Later that day, he called and said he was scrapping the idea of a hotel because they were to darned expensive. The average affordable motel being a mere step above a brothel was priced at a handsome fee of $150.00 US dollars which inspired Chris to camp near a river for another night. There, at least he could take a dip in river, wash up, and move on. I know he was going to try to make it at least past Edmonton for today (Monday), but wasn't quite sure how close he'd get to the next border crossing. I'm guessing either the cell phone broke or he's been in the woods and out of cell service because I haven't heard a word from him today. I called him and left a message or two wishing him a safe drive and fair weather and hope that he gets to an area where he can call soon.
As for the local end of things, Zev and I are doing just fine. We walked 8 miles round trip yesterday evening to return some movie rentals, then to a corner cafe for a quick bite to eat, and back home to get the house ready for another potential buyer. I've had 3 inquiries about the house over the last couple of days, and the first interested party (Tim as is turns out), is coming back for a 3rd look on Wednesday. I'm quite optimistic the house will sell in due time, and that I will get a fair price for it as well. I'll admit things are quiet here at the house, but long walks and a healthy glass of red wine now and then pass the time quite nicely. There is not a single weed in the garden, the tomatoes are ripening nicely, and I'm desperately looking for new squash recipes as they are exploding out of control. The ponds are clear, and the raccoons have left us alone which means I've caught up on some much needed sleep. My work has kept me very busy, and I've managed to find time for flying and artwork alike. Things are looking good from my perspective and I have no real complaints. Life is good.
More to come in a few days-
Vered
(and Zev too.)
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