Showing posts with label adventures. Show all posts
Showing posts with label adventures. Show all posts

Saturday, January 7, 2012

Adventures in Travel

I got this note from HomoDommi last weekend, as the holidays wound to a close. (images mine)

Got into Boise at 4:30 am this morning, having left Portland about 13 hours earlier (after a whirlwind of cleaning, returning the house to pre-Christmas decor).  Not a particularly hard drive, but it had its moments.  

The drive from Portland to Boise takes about 8 hours usually.
We had 4 suitcases on top of the vehicle on a makeshift canopy (lying on our ski-racks.)  At the top of Dead-Mans Pass (27° F, hard gusting wind) the flaps came undone and started whap-whap-whapping the top of the car.  Really loud, and on a dark, cold moonless night (with no additional rope) we couldn't strap it down, as we couldn't see where it was loose/flapping.  (Imagine us standing in 10 inches of snow off the road outside of Meacham, using our cell-phones as flashlights, while the cold wind gusted at 30 mph). 
"Winter in the Blue Mountains". Photo by Ruth Jensen, uploaded to Google Earth

Meacham is about half way between Pendleton and La Grande, at the top of Dead Mans Pass. A Google search lists it at 17,000 population, but I don't believe that. Perhaps the county has that many.

But after a visit to the La Grande Walmart (open to midnight on New Years Day!) I strapped it down competently (and drove the remainder of the night at 60 mph - the lower speed helped.  By the way, our gas mileage absolutely sucked - 17 mpg with the cargo on top.)

But then, our excitement for the night.  Around 2 am, out in the no-cell-phone reception area halfway between Baker and Ontario, we came upon a car, emergency flashers on, and two men on the side of the road, waving.  The guys (Sam and his burly brother) were surprised that anyone would stop at 2 am for a car load of Hispanics, but we did, and more than that, we drove Sam into Ontario, then back to his car, before continuing on to Boise (added 60 miles to the trip, and time getting gas, etc.  A late night).

Photo by Ruth Jenson, uploaded to Google Earth.
Taken in the general vicinity of "halfway between Baker City and Ontario".
Sam was nervous, young (24ish, married, 4 kids... We started early). Lives in San Antonio, TX, and work has been sporadic.  But Sam is the music director in his pentecostal church, and thru the church got a job offer ($300 an hour ...for 2 hours work) to play guitar with Grammy-winning singer Eddie Gonzalas ("The Mexican Cowboy").  ~ This was exciting indeed, but the problem: the gig was in Pasco, Washington, and they all (Eddie, Eddie's wife, the accordion player and Sam's brother, also on guitar) had to drive non-stop 2,000 miles to make the gig on New Year's Eve.  Sam has never been away from his wife before, and he's never seen snow before (it snowed in the Blue Mountains on the trip north) but the cash was good.  Unfortunately he was the driver when it ran out of gas, and was getting some nasty looks from the band-mates.  Poor (stressed) guy.  Turns out the gas gauge on the rental wasn't accurate, and he didn't expect 50 miles of no-gas between Baker and Ontario.
Note the lack of any towns - Lime is an abandoned cement plant. Huntingdon has 440 souls, according to the 2010 census.

So, into Ontario and back into the boonies with a 5 gallon tank of gas, and we finally met Eddie and the rest of the band.  With gas in the tank (and happily drunk - time spent waiting in the darkness was spent drinking) they were happy, effusive, and calling us angels (and I like being told, "I'll see you in heaven when I die!").  Much thanking, repeatedly.  Turns out they found the landscape/farness from home frightening (and they said this) ~ hmmm.  I don't see anything frightening  about that area, but I speak the language natively and know where to avoid. 
Eddie gave us a copy of his CD, which I appreciate.  Haven't listened to it yet - but when Teen-Boy wakes we'll all listen together.  (Kids were awake for all of this, so sleeping in today.)
Hmm, strangers from a different planet (well, yeah, Texas is almost that!), where "winter" means less dry and temps in the high 50's, not snow that closes mountain passes.  At night, between "Deadmans Pass" and "Farewell Bend", and just up the road from the site of the Van Ornum Wagon Train Massacre (advertised on the highway)...what's to be scared of?