Woolen Heights

Hello. It’s me!!


As Sheryl Crow once said, “Every Day Is A Winding Road”. This afternoon certainly qualified. We made the drive from Pendleton up to Pullman/Moscow.


The featured overlook of the day was just north of Lewiston, ID / Clarkston, WA.



That’s the confluence of the Whitewater River and Snake River down there … a few thousand feet down there. Look at the curvy road that one can take down the mountain!!!

That’s what Dad thinks a good view looks like. For a refresher course, here’s what Mom thinks a good view looks like.


When I get out of the rig, here’s the view I get to enjoy.


Snakes and Dead People, my friends.

Snakes and Dead People, #amirite?

Dad called this his “favorite day” of the trip. He found the Palouse and GMO-altered 2-foot-high wheat fields to be everything he thought it would be, and more.

We even drove around Washington State University and the University of Idaho today.



I tried to attend a football game today, but as per usual, nobody was playing and dogs weren’t allowed anyway.


Earlier in the day Mom made a trip to Pendleton Woolen Mills. Needless to say, she was giddy with excitement.


I manned the RV while Mom & Dad took a tour of the facility. Apparently there used to be a thousand woolen mills … now there are five. But my goodness, the 60ish employees at this mill are kickin’ it, aren’t they?


Mom also made a handful of purchases. Turns out there is a store right out of the exit of the tour. Isn’t it funny that they’d put a store right at the exit of the tour? What a coincidence!!

Our day ended at a campground on the banks of the Snake River. We got to enjoy the sunset and we got to enjoy a history lesson regarding Lewis & Clark and their journey down the Snake River.


Tomorrow we back-track to Walla Walla, where we are told that food and ample grape-based beverages are available.

P.S.: Mom tried to visit the Nez Perce National Historical Park today, but was locked out because the park closed at 4:00pm. Turns out I was locked out as well.


P.P.S.:  What the ….?


P.P.P.S.:  What the ….?




Whole Lotta Catchin’ Up To Do

Hello. It’s me!!


Where do I start?


What the …. ?

When we last spoke, we were headed into the great State of Oregon. We camped about twenty miles north of Crater Lake. Why didn’t we communicate with you? Three reasons.

  1. No cell phone coverage.
  2. No internet at the campground.

Lemme tell ya, there were a thousand skeeters per mammal at this campground. We maintained a low profile, we sealed the rig, and we prayed for the end of time to hurry up and arrive (to paraphrase Meatloaf).


Earlier in the day we visited Crater Lake. This is one of Mom’s favorite places on the planet, and who can blame her? Anytime a volcano blows its top off and covers the State of Oregon in eight inches of ash, you’ve gotta go see it, #amirite?


That’s a nice lookin’ cinder cone right there in the middle of the lake. Yup, Crater Lake is rallying!

These little things (Cinder Cones) are all over the State of Oregon. I tell ya, someday somebody is going to wake up to a warm lahar bath (a slurry of pyroclastic material for those who don’t appreciate brevity).

Mom celebrated the magma-fueled outburst with a beverage.


Of particular interest to me, of course, was the opportunity to hike a trail or two.


And what did I find? Snow!!!


Ok, that’s not the pristine snow folks ski on in February, but what do I care? It was Christmas in July.

After Crater Lake, we spent three evenings with our friends Francie and Glen.


Yup, it was a pickleball bonanza in Bend, OR. Dad tells me he is going to maximize his, and I quote, “Pickleball Opportunity” and who am I to stop him?


In fact, who am I to stop anybody? The four of them dumped me at an unknown home in Bend while they got to have fun.


At some point, you just give up the fight.


While they drove up Pilot Butte (it was butte-ful) and celebrated comraderie …


… I was left to man the fort:


A couple of times I got to go on walks through the neighborhood. But even then events turned sour as I was forced to wait for Mom … again.


And if I have to eat another flippin’ blueberry while Mom and Dad gorge themselves on the finest food in Bend, I’m gonna take out my frustration on a stuffed animal.


They even went out for gelato, and it turns out everybody was supposed to say hi to Kaitlyn.


They visited an indoor pickleball arena … without me of course.


Mom spent Saturday at the Sisters Quilt Show. It’s one of the biggies on the quilting circuit, but you already knew that.


Today we hustled to the northeast. And guess what? It rained. In July. In the high desert. That’s redonkulous.


Dad is a huge fan of the Columbia River and the Snake River. I’m convinced he’s dragging us to this part of the country just for his own amusement.


After dragging Dad away from the mighty Columbia River, we parked for the day in Pendleton. Following an all-you-care-to-eat buffet (#aarpdiscount) Mom dared Dad to win at a slot machine. Dad inserted ten hard-earned dollars, expecting it to evaporate quickly. However, he found himself up a few dollars, called it quits, and celebrated the fact that he took money from Terry Benedict.



Anytime you are north of breakeven by $2.20 you count your lucky stars. Or your lucky toes. Mine aren’t getting burned up here in the frosty Pacific Northwest like they would be in Arizona where temps are hovering near 115 degrees.


Tomorrow we head down the Blue Mountains to the Lewiston/Clarkston area, again, for the sole purpose of Dad’s own amusement (and my utter bemusement). He loves the Snake River, so Mom booked a campground along the Snake River. There’s no real reason to be there, but we’ll drive 2.5 hours to fill whatever hole the Snake River fills in Dad’s expansive soul.


Worn Out!

Hello. It’s me!!


We made it to Oregon today!! Our path from Vegas to Klamath Falls is highlighted in yellow below. Every day is a winding road, #amirite?


Today started in California, moved into Nevada, swung back into California, and then we entered Oregon.

We are staying at the KOA in Klamath Falls. Mom decided to check out the mini-store on site. I took a moment to read the message posted right at dog-height.


Like I’m a threat of some kind … if they were smart, they’d have posted their discouragement a foot higher where a chupacabra could clearly read it.

Dad thought we should celebrate 1,020 miles of travel with a delivered pizza pie. Fortunately, I earned a seat at the table … though I was nourished with canine-approved slop, which was (in my humble opinion … IMHO) a sub-standard but belly-filling option.


1,020 miles of travel takes a lot out of a pup. I’m beat. Tell you what. I’m checking out for the rest of the night. I promise to have more energy and better communicative skills over the next few days. Until then, I’m dreaming of all the ways I can have fun in Oregon.


700 RV Miles in 25 Hours

Hello! It’s me.


We left Arizona yesterday around 4:30pm. By 5:15pm today, we were just south of Carson City, over in northeast Nevada.

These afternoon drives pointed Northwest, and that’s a problem, because that’s where the Sun is. Mom did her best to hide me from harmful rays.


Or maybe she hid me from ALIENS, #amirite?


I’m relegated to an 18 inch by 45 inch makeshift bench seat that Dad created from bed form and blankets purchased at Walmart. While I appreciate the effort, I’d prefer to spend time on Mom’s lap.


Check out what Dad calls a “concept photo”.


We are taking a very different route north this year … through Vegas and Pahrump, then up US-95 to US-6, where we crossed the Sierra Nevada mountains while I crossed my legs waiting for a pullout.


Mom coaxed Dad into an “unscheduled pit stop”.


FYI – gold was discovered near this monument … I came up empty, which was a bit of a disappointment.


We are staying at a KOA campground just south of Carson City. Their website promised a Restaurant, and they most certainly delivered, albeit with a caveat … the Restaurant is permanently closed.


Mom cobbled together ravioli and a salad in lieu of a campground diner.

By this time tomorrow night, we’ll be in Klamath Falls, in Southern Oregon, and our time in the Pacific Northwest shall begin. Between now and then we’ll navigate another 279 miles of curves, bumps, and hills. I’ll sit in my 18″ x 45″ improvised bench seat, awaiting arrival.

P.S.: During our trip, Mom occasionally enters buildings without my permission. This is not acceptable behavior. My solemn promise to you is this … I will not leave my post unless Mom reappears through the same door she entered.


P.P.S.:  Sometimes I just need a friend, somebody who sees the world the way I do and not as a 350 mile a day “dash” across America. Surely you can understand.


P.P.P.S.:  Maybe this is why I need a friend … hundreds upon hundreds of empty and bumpy miles.







And Away We Go!

Hello! It’s me!


That’s me … in “pensive mode”, #amirite?

And who could blame me? In about four hours we begin an RV trip to the Pacific Northwest. By sunset we’ll be in the luxurious confines of beautiful Pahrump, Nevada. This is an alternate route … Dad originally proposed taking US395 north from the Riverside area, but incessant earthquakes along the route required a change of course. Instead, we’ll skirt past Death Valley, hoping not to get our eyes pecked-out by buzzards #thoughtsandprayers


Hello, it’s me!!


We’ve reached that time of the year … that warm, WARM time of the year. Outdoor time is reserved for 6:30am, #amirite?


A lot of the day is spent indoors. And while resting, I like to take advantage of the concept of leverage. Case in point:


Did you see what I did there? No? Let me show you.


If the back of the couch ever decided to do anything, my rear right leg is there to stop the madness. This is how I maintain leverage over my Dad in bed … in the middle of the night a right rear drumstick in Dad’s back is all it takes to prevent 250 or more pounds of thunder from crushing me. Whether it is Dad’s back or an inanimate object, I apply leverage in an effort to control the situation during these boiling-hot days of late June.

A New Friend!

Hello, it’s me!



When it is 110 degrees out and you’re finding a shady spot to do your duties, it gets a bit lonely.

Making matters worse today is that Grandma and Grandpa took their fancy new-old car back to Wisconsin, leaving me with fewer people to protect.


But the real kick in the belly happened yesterday, when I had to leave California and say goodbye to my new girlfriend … Stella!


Obviously Stella loved me after I told her I worked really hard to shave off a few pounds. She admired my determination fostered by a lack of access to food.

We spent a whole day together while attending the High School Graduation Party of my dear friend Julia and buddy Luke. Stella and I were (to be brutally honest) inseparable.


We had real conversations:

Dash: Wanna play?

Stella: Wanna play?

Dash:  I’ll play!

Stella:  I’ll play!

Dash:  I’ll use my girthy frame to push you.

Stella:  I’ll use my stealthy maneuverability to constantly nudge my nose into your ear.

Dash:  You mean whisper sweet nothings into my ear?

Stella:  What?

Dash:  Too soon, #amirite?

Stella:  Wanna play?

Dash:  I’ll play!

Stella:  I’m exhausted.

Dash:  Let’s lie down for awhile.

Stella:  Ok.

Dash:  I’m bored.

Stella:  Me too.

Dash:  Wanna play?

Stella:  I’ll play!

Dash:  Good!

And so it went with my dear friend Stella!

Without Grandma and Grandpa and Julia and Luke and Stella to warm my heart, I was left to defend the homestead. And defend the homestead I did!