Road Trip II

Jason and Laurel Walsh (Thanksgiving 1).

After watching Tobin Price’s first gymnastics competition, which was something to see, I drove into downtown Denver to find J & L’s apartment. I found a good parking spot and easily determined the third story home from the smoking grill that was in use.

The place was different from any apartment I’ve seen. The walls were brilliantly colored, blue, deep red, beige, a different color for each room. Stone floors split the apartment and curved like waves with crumbled stone fringes. A bar with a keg and tap was fashioned from a real airplane wing. The kitchen sink was commercial, huge and with skin-flaying power (not to mention the hose sprayer).

Their shower was the same stone masonry with the windy stone fringing but it was infusing with a steamer, so you could have a sauna instead of a shower to start your day.

I could go on and on. They had a projector and screen and used to have regular movie nights with large attendance.

So I was awed. It was clearly a place they were passionate about and had put themselves fully into. It was currently rented to a close friend who was happy to accommodate them (us – including Mr. Widge). He lent Jason his cell phone when he went to work as well as his car, so Jason and Laurel were both in touch and mobile.

When I had talked to Jason he had said that today was ideal, in that he was throwing a bar-b-que. As the ribs slowly cooked on the grill I caught up with Jason and Laurel as their friends slowly started trickling in.

Lovely, beautiful, wonderful women. Laurel has such cool amazing fun friends. It was an easy party. Everyone treated me well and it was Widge who really stole the show. He made his rounds; he laid in the middle of the kitchen; he relished scores of belly rubs and never ran and hit from the attention. I did eventually take him away with me when I went down. He’s too old to party like that.

I loved it. It was great to see Jason and Laurel and met their friends and see their world beyond Monkey’s Business. We ate well; we drank and were and very merry.

The next day we went up to Jason’s mom’s cabin which was somewhere at 9,000ft. She had incredible glass sculptures all throughout the house, a hottub, vast windows and views of pondy pines and doug firs. No neighbors to be seen. We looked at pictures of her forthcoming catamaran and talked about pirates. We sat in a big group around the table, turkey and all the fixing. Good cheer all ‘round.

But this was not the True Thanksgiving, not Thursday. It was Sunday, but the real turkey day was approaching and I had a long way to go to make Portland on time. So Monday morning I got a good start for Twin Falls, Idaho, where I thought a good layover spot and also where LeAnne and Jeremy SasserCollins live.

It was a beautiful drive. I had never driven I-84 before and loved the new vistas. The winds were intense, as they always are in eastern Wyoming.

LeAnne and Jeremy SasserCollins

The weather was cold, good western weather. I had no idea that Twin Falls has such jewels hidden in the ground. What looks like a bare plateau from a distance obscures the fact that there is a great canyon running right through the edge of town, spanned by a great classic arch bridge. The Snake falls in great cataracts around pinnacles and columns, reminiscent of Victoria falls in it width and multiplicity.

LeAnne took me around for the afternoon showing me the various sights of the town. Her parents-in-law have a house over looking the canyon with a fine view. Alissa and Elijah were always well-behaved and respectful. They liked to play pirate and Alissa is already practicing self-defense at four years old. Pretty cool.

Wednesday morning I set out again and at last for Portland and the Swanson House. I had 550 miles to go and had the entire day. But not all was as it seemed. About five miles out on the interstate the tranny started to make a fuss. Before long I was pulled over checking what I could, but there wasn’t much to see.

And that was to be the end. She wouldn’t go back in gear.

So here started the adventure of finding a tow, a tranny shop, a quote, a plan, an eventual rental car, and a late push for Portland, which I made.

Bethany, Stu, Chelsea, and the Swanson House Thanksgiving

This is my dream. This is what I have been thinking about, hoping for, plotting for for three years and a day—ever since I left here the first time. This is not a normal Thanksgiving if there ever was such a thing. Neil and Chris have three kids: Bethany, the oldest; Ingrid, and Clay. Neil is a successful surgeon and has the means to live in a “large” house. It has become tradition to have their kids invite their friends to come along to Thanksgiving. There is room for all and food to last through the weekend. We provide kegs.

Bethany, wonderful as she is, is not an anomaly in this family. She is (almost) the norm. Ingrid is sweet and beautiful and interesting, playful, runs like a gazelle and is a complete devil on the football field. Clay is in college and takes much from his older sisters, all to the good. They may be the only “non-dysfunctional” family I know well, though I am skeptical of ever naming a family thus because in the past it has always brought the veil of doom.

Anyway . . . they are all wonderful and beautiful individually and therefore are blessed by wonderful friends in result. So, in my first trip to the Swanson’s three years ago I was so floored to be with such an interesting group with such variant interests and opinions. This year is no exception.

It is tradition to start Thanksgiving with The Turkey Bowl—the annual football game which is played on the local highschool’s field. This year set a record for participation, everyone but Chris and Chelsea—who was benched due to an injury (as a thin excuse perhaps). It was an epic game. All agree it was the finest Turkey Bowl to date. We wore flags, eight versus ten, and my team won, though Stu, who QB’ed for the “losers” who MVP. (I personally played a better game three years ago.) Clay and Ingrid played huge

for the “winners.” We won on the last play, a half-field long-bomb strike.

We sat nineteen, including Stuart and Chelsea who are now engaged. There were three couples who were engaged, including Ingrid. The turkey weighed 28 lbs. The green bean casserole was three square feet. We had at least five pies.

But it is the cheer that matters. I wore a perma-smile, as did most. Lots of strangers just happy to get to know each other. Clay has grown up a lot since I saw him last. I spent some late hours of the night talking with B’s Mom Chris about everything from stained glass, relationships, dancing, to metal working.

Really, I couldn’t be having a better time. We spent a day in Portland, ate sushi, went to REI, Patagonia, and ended in a three story bookstore called Powells that takes up a whole city block, after which we packed B’s car and headed up to their mountain house under Mt Hood. Once there I preceded to set a house record for longest time spent in the hottub, for which I show no ill effects.

And that brings me up to today. I sit by a warm fire, drinking coffee and orange juice, writing my little story, happy and relaxed after eating too many sausages for breakfast.

What next?

I have no idea, no easy answers. My van is in Twin Falls, my brother is in between, Seattle and some goals are still NW. . . no easy way get everything done. It looks like I have still a lot of driving to do.

But my god has it been worth it. The best of times, everyone and everywhere. Thank you.

Heppner – Hangin’ with Willy and Giselle

I had a brief and good time with Willy in Heppner. He showed me the old ranch he used to work. I got to meet Dixie’s puppy who is a beautiful golden color with the same athletic physique as her mother.

Willy got sick and left a great fish dinner for Giselle and myself to eat like gluttons.

Back to Twin Falls

My time back in Twin Falls will be discussed in the next entry, “Big Day”.