98844 to 87106

Novermber 7th, 2009 I flew to Spokane WA, where Vivane Harper of Oroville WA picked me up at the airport.  Viviane was sweet as pie, short with very old knees making it difficult for her to walk easily.  Viviane is the the truck's previous owner's ex wife and she was in Spokane visiting grandkids and going on a blind date.  We had a great time on our 3 hour ride back to Oroville during which Viviane entertained me with theories of Earth's eroding magnetosphere and the impending stop of earth's rotation as a result.  She also had some very interesting things say about rocks from outer space and lots of other stuff that made more sense to me than magnetospheres and space rocks. On our way back to Oroville we drove past the Grand Coulee Dam and through a forest fire on both sides of the road.  I am assuming that is was a controlled burn but one never knows.  Very smokey and odd.

Left is a picture of me sitting in the truck for the first time which Viviane very sweetly took after dropping me off. You can almost tell from my expression that I am gleeful 'Ha ha ha! Finally.' Oroville WA is where I finally met the truck.  I tried to get it shipped via car carrier but it was so far off the beaten path that noone wanted to take the job.  Two truckers did and then canceled once they figured out where it was.  It was pretty frustrating seeing I bought it in September and did not get to see it until November 7th.  So here I am sitting in it for the first time hoping it starts: it did.  Very interesting driving it for the first time.  This is just what I expected and NOT your Subaru Legacy with a standard.  It grunts and wheezes, snorts and whistles, farts and groans but it is a pretty simple machine and in spite of all the noise it is very satisying to drive.  The seat is not stock and was reputedly installed so seatbelts could retrofitted to the cab.  When I asked Bob if it had seatbelts he said it did.  Well he wasn't lying but they were under the seat and in the bed in respective heaps.  Later my sister and I tried to mount them and discovered why they had not been installed; fairly major modification of the cab would be required to mount the shoulder belt.  I threw them away and ordered lap belts.  Someday the seat will go too.


Oroville is US terminus of the Okanagan River Valley.  Any further north and you are in Canada.  Nice little town but I think it is much like many 'edge' towns in the US.  Key West, El Paso, all of Alaska etc., places that are as far as you can go and still be in the US.  They seem to collect a certain type of 'almost expatriot' who generally wants to be left alone and resents government, rules, taxes and the like.

So, I stayed the night with Bob: the previous owner and discovered that less is more when it comes to quality time with Bob.  What a disagreeable man.  Smokes too much, drinks too much and complains vociferously.  After 12 hours most of which was spent asleep in his basement I had had enough.  I was ready to head south to warmer weather and friendlier faces.

So let it be known that I took some pictures on this trip but I did not stop and take pictures every time I 'should' have.  I gaped at some amazing views and just kept right on driving.  It is also easy to understand why I took so many pictures that include the truck.  I just got it after waiting two month, so sue me.  So, to make up for the ... gaps in my pictures I have used a great resource and website called Panoramio.  I found pictures of almost every place that I had been to support my pictures on this horrid little chronicle.  Bear in mind that I drove from WA to NM in November so any picture that looks out of season probably IS and good on you for catching it. Also all of these pictures can be scrutinized by clicking on the photo and then zooming additionally if you really want to see details.

Finally headed south!  97 South to Riverside where I stopped at Home Depot and bought some 'old truck road trip' essentials: tools, lubricants, gas can, etc. The kind of stuff that you hope you don't need but you know what they say about chance favoring the prepared. At first I was driving alongside the Okanago River which like all other rivers in this area empties into the Columbia River.  To the right is Orondo WA. and I was graced with good weather and good health and kept driving south.

To the left is Brewster WA which as you can plainly see is a beautiful place.  In fact the whole area is incredible.  Along the way I got to see why most big chain supermarket apples  are from Washington State. Orchards are everywhere.


We have orchards in Vermont and New York and New Hampshire but not this many.  The landscape is much starker, bigger and magnificent than Back East. The scale is orders larger.  Nothing beats the east for GREEN but the brush used to paint this country was HUGE.

Have you ever had to work inside a small room, a room that feels close? Remember the feeling of leaving that room and walking outside into a bright, clear day with a high blue sky? That expansive, open, empty feeling.  An overhead camera focused on the hat on your head zooming back and back and back until you disappear into the combination of colors and hues that comprise this huge land.  There just aren't that many people per square mile in this part of the country and most of them like it that way. It is a good feeling being out in the middle of the great, wide, open.

When you have just adjusted to the scale of things.  When the Okanaga River Valley is beginning to feel homey you come to the Columbia River Valley and you have to start all over.  There is no fording this river.  The Columbia is absolutely HUGE.  There is nothing in the East like this, nothing.  Wow.

Perhaps you begin to see why I didn't stop to take pictures. It felt like a hopeless attempt at capturing what it was like.  Like eating Taco Bell and thinking that now, at last, you have had good Mexican food.  Think again.  What I remember most about the Columbia is this deeply quiet essence of power.

After a few hours of driving through this sort of ridiculous grandeur, this majesty on steroids I started to get a little complacent about it.  No more exclamations or slowing down, no more wonder and awe. 'Yeah, nice river, I need a Coke!'  My normally well stocked box of 'Ooohs and Aaaahs' was down to the occasional 'hrrrmph'.  I had a lactic acid burn in my exclamator muscle.  Enough, already.

To the left is the Martha Inn.  Strange name for an Inn?  Perhaps but not so strange if it is located in George WA. Too funny.  Free wooden choppers at the restaurant.   (not funny, sorry)

All the while I am learning to drive this old thing and keeping my fingers crossed that chance WILL actually favor the prepared today.  The truck starts every time, shifts fine, stops fine, the only thing that I really had to watch was the suspension and that is just plain old worn out.  Nothing wrong with it that wouldn't hold until NM.  Somewhere along the way the rear right hub cap has spun off into never never land but the it is just a cover and these wheels are looking a bit rough anyway.  Not the first or second thing on my list but they will eventually be replaced.

Southern Washington state flattens out and I talk to my friend Richard in Portland Oregon trying to arrange a rendezvous.  We make a plan and then he texts me that he totally forgot he has jury duty.  Hmm. Sure.  I keep going and by days end it is dark and I am bushed and I look for a good place to pull off and sleep a few hours.  I find a good place in the future site of a housing development that is just dirt road.  Windy, cold and starry I curl up in the voluminous bed and get some sleep.

Oregon beckons and I am very near I84 southeast to Boise.  Almost immediately the road climbs off the Oregon plain and up into the mountains.  Speed limit on the interstate was 35mph due to the tight radius curves.  'Snow chains required in storms' states the sign.  I cross my fingers and keep the boiler stoked.  What a crazy road! It winds down into a tight, winding canyon with dirt exits to both defunct and operating mines.  The only way in or out is on the road.  You would need climbing gear to ascend the steep walls.

I drive and the country opens up and flattens out and feels emptier than Washington did. Logging trucks and old, abandoned farmhouses dot the countryside. I stop for breakfast in North Powder, Oregon and have biscuits and gravy.  A more substantial gut bomb I have never eaten. White flour biscuits under a veritable sea of more white sausage gravy that was more white than sausage.  I couldn't finish and thought I would never need to eat again.  I think I heard a seat spring let go when I hauled my ass back into the truck seat.