Category Archives: Orleans

A Lot of Typing Without Much Content


I just scanned a few old posts and see I never finished writing about my trip. One of my goals is to make an Orleans, CA page that I can link to with photos and maps since it’s a small town on a two lane highway in the mountains with two gas pumps, a café and a tiny grocery store and it’s unusual to find anyone who’s heard of it.

The discussion usually goes something like, “You mean New Orleans?” “No, Orleans.” “Oh, I’ve never heard of it.” Then you say Humboldt County and can usually get some name recognition there. I’ve traveled to some pretty far off places where they’ve heard of Humboldt County. But the webpage thing remains on my to do list.

My normal summer visit in at the end of August and a huge number of extended family are there and it’s fun but hectic. (By huge number let’s say around 20 grownups and another 20 kids ranging in age from 15 to baby sproglet.) Bob went to the High Sierra Music Festival the first week of July and suggested I visit the family during that time. Also, my Dad’s birthday is 4th of July and I haven’t celebrated with him in a long time. Very quiet visit with lots of reading and daily swimming trips. I spent more time in a bathing suit that week than I have in the past 3 years. My bathing suit is old and grotty but since I rarely have occasion to wear one, I can make them last awhile.

There’s a point where the elastic turns on you and I’ve reached that point and should probably see if I can find a new one. And there’s no better place for bathing suit shopping than Portland Oregon in the middle of July. (sarcasm). I just found these attempts back in 2001 (here, here, and here.) My current suit I found in 2004.

I went to the river with Mom and my Aunties and they do these Cryptic Crosswords. Have you ever seen these? They have a clue like: Man on horse: plumber? and the answer is: Mephistophiles. I know. I never got it either. You have to be a total brainiac and even then, the group mind is critical for working on these puzzles. I got one clue per puzzle we did and this after staring at the clue for 2 and ½ hours. I’m going to get Cryptic Crosswords for Dummies this winter and practice so next summer I’m ready.

I’ll tell one other story before I run. I’m not a cat person. It’s not like I hate cats, I just don’t love them and would characterize my interest in living with one as: not at all. My Dad used to not be a cat person but now my parents have two cats. They were feral cats who have been tamed (and enjoy free meals). One is very shy (name: Shy Boy) and keeps a low profile when I’m visiting. The other one is much friendlier (name: Friendly) and its favorite thing to do is crawl on your lap while you’re reading and knead its nails into your thighs. Then it drools on you. I kicked Friendly off my lap one morning and it went downstairs and returned awhile later with a flapping bird in its mouth. What a cutie.

Because I am lame I had no gut instinct about how to react to this so I said: “Ack! Ack! Mom! Make it go away!” And Mom chased the cat out of the house and Dad chased the cat out of the garage. The poor kitty had to rip up the bird somewhere else.

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Tripping Through Paradise

Looking Into Boise Creek
Wow. Fabulous trip. Exactly what I needed. I kept a few notes about what I did and a typical day says: wake up early, read, pick raspberries, go swimming, eat dinner, early to bed.

I’ll probably write more about it tomorrow. I’m beat right now. I woke up at 1:30a last night and drifted without really sleeping until morning. I finally just got up and packed and hit the road. I keep having this weird dream where I think I’m awake but I can’t move and I tell myself, “This feels like a dream, but I know I’m awake and I’m going to move now,” and then I can’t move. It’s really disturbing.

It was over 100 the past two days and I was expecting the drive home to have furnace-like qualities but it was mild and I kept the window down the entire time until I hit Portland and then it felt too hot and turned on the air. (Of course now my eyeballs feel like felt covered golf balls dipped in battery acid.)

The first thing I did when I got home was crack open a cold beer. Then I turned on the computer. Then I checked my dahlias. Lots of flowers out there now.

I’m going to go and wash the car before I run out of steam.

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Vacation, All I Ever Wanted

Orleans Kids

Luis, Geena, Lillian, Josa, Annie and Jack.

Orleans Helicopter

The fire fighting helicopter filling up in the Klamath. Bob took the above two.

Lyons Ranch, CA Bald Hills Road, CA

(L) Lyons Ranch, a lovely hike downhill through potential wild cat/bear country via (R) Bald Hills Road. These two by me.

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Effing Goat Trail

A week ago Sunday we went to Dillon Creek for kayaking. Just kidding. Check the link: those pictures blow my mind. I didn’t even know you could do stuff like that at Dillon Creek. We were around the campground. Here’s a link to the Forest Service website. And could someone help the Forest Service, please? That website could use a little pretty-ing up.

We went to Dillon Creek for Book Club. The book was A Woman in Berlin by Anonymous. Mom must have missed my post about how I didn’t want to read any heavy books in August and insisted I read it for book club. Turns out it’s fantastic. Hard to put down. Lots of food for thought and discussion. Really excellent not just as a book but as a piece of history.

But that’s not what this story is about.

We got there early and we decided to check out this swimming hole we’d heard about. We parked in the day use area and as we pulled in, we ran into Martha who’s married to Sonny, who’s a cousin. Or something like that. You get the idea.

Martha was also going to the swimming hole and was kind enough to point out the trail to us and off we went. As soon as I took my first step, I was concerned because I was wearing these clodhopper shoes I use for Orleans. This isn’t a good link because we weren’t there camping, we were at a big family gathering, some visiting like us and many who live there.

(ASIDE: omigod. I just put “Orleans, California” into a search engine so I could give a link to Orleans for the 3 people who might chance by this site and not know what I’m talking about and this was the first link that came up: American Singles. Classic! The second link is a splog that has to do with collection agencies. We need to improve Orleans search rankings.)

I decided not to take the trail but Martha said, “Oh, I’m sure it looks a lot harder than it is.” So I pressed on. But not because I believed her, but because she’s a relative and I knew if I wussed out that the entire town would know about it before the sun went down and for the next 40 years I would have to hear tales of Pam, the big fat ch-ch-chicken who couldn’t do the trail down to the swimming hole at Dillon Creek.

Except that the “trail” was a goat path scratched out of a vertical mountainside and covered with poison oak and a few wisps of tree root that you could hang onto for dear life as you slid down the rocks and dirt.

We were about two thirds of the way down when a friendly grey haired guy holding a beer and watching us slide down the mountain said, “That’s not the trail.”

Well, no shit. What are we going to do at that point? When we finally hit bottom you could see the actual trail, a smooth, clear path back up to the campground.

“A freeway!” Martha exclaimed when she saw it. Then she said she’d never been to that swimming hole before.

I got a scratch of poison oak on one leg and a mosquito sized patch on my foot plus a couple of dots here and there.

Lesson learned: don’t let Martha point out the trail.

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I’m All Ears

ears

Captain Curt Party

Howdy. Excellent vacation. One of the best ever–seriously. We had a party every day except one and that day we had TWO parties.

Usually I’m happy to be home but I could have handled a few more days of this one. I spent the day harvesting tomatoes and washing clothes and in a burst of industry I swept out the garage with pathological thoroughness. (Yup, used a vacuum in the corners).

Very busy week or two coming up so who knows how often I end up here? I have lots more pictures so will try to at least throw a few of those up now and then. (That’s my Mom and Dad in the photo, FYI).

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The Crud

I was going to try to do a “detailed” blog entry with links but right now my connection is unbearably glacial and the first couple of sites I tried had endless popup ads so forget it.

We got back from Orleans, CA on Tuesday and I returned with a lovely flu type thing. I heard it’s going around the whole crew down there. At least I got to suffer at home with my own TV and great big bed.

Actually, we went to Eureka on Monday and visted Grandma which ended up being totally depressing. She was just lucid enough to be stuck in the loop about how she wanted to go home, she wanted to go home, she wanted to go home. When we got ready to leave I leaned down to give her a hug and she totally stiffened up and gave me the most heart-breaking look and told me she was coming home with me. (a) we weren’t taking her but also (b) we weren’t going to Orleans, we were going to Gold Beach. And when I told her that she slumped back into her wheelchair and mumbled good-bye. I cried in the parking lot.

Bob and I had planned to take Grandma to lunch but we got there late and she’d already had lunch so instead of taking her anyways so we could eat which would have been the smart thing to do, we visited with her for a couple of hours and thought we’d eat after. But then we didn’t want to eat too much because we were going out to a nice dinner for our anniversary (7 years) so we ate granola bars and peanuts in the car. The drive from Eureka to Gold Beach was beautiful but took a bit longer than I expected. We checked into our hotel and dashed to the restaurant we’d picked: The Nor’Wester and there was a wait. Then our appetizer fell through the cracks so by the time we got something to eat we were not the friendliest of people.

The food was fantastic. I can’t more strongly recommend the Dungeness and Brie appetizer. The next day was Tuesday, going back home day, and I woke up with a sore throat and by the time we hit Eugene my head hurt and my eyes hurt and I ached and moaned and groaned all the way home. And I have been feeling poorly since then. I stayed home from work Weds and today and I’m feeling a little better except I cough a lot and I have little appetite and I can’t sleep so I’m very tired.

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No One Went Hungry

Joe Strummer died. How tragic and unfair is that?

We’re back from Cali and a fantastic time was had by all. I ate roughly 100 times my body weight in a matter of several days and my exercise program went out the window between the rush for writing class, the weather, and the travel. Once you let that momentum go, inertia rushes in. I think that’s an oxymoron and probably defies principles of physics, but it happens to be true. I made the Cook’s Illustrated shrimp Creole gumbo recipe and it rocked on 10 planets. Everyone thought so. I can’t wait to make it again. I also made a big breakfast strata and brought up a basket of lunch meat and wurst from the German deli. Mom made 4 kinds of cookies, all my favorites and any time there was tasting to be done, I had to eat one of each. Let me just emphasize that no one went hungry.

The drive down was perfect weather: clear and sunny. The drive home consisted of grey, hard rain continuously from Happy Camp to Albany but no snow on the pass which was nice. We were prepared for the worst.

I’m recovering from a nasty cold. I have zero patience when other people complain about their colds, but man, a cold is so rotten. And I couldn’t sleep because of all the gagging, phlegmy coughing so yesterday we bought a cough suppressant which had something in it that kept me awake. At least I wasn’t coughing. I managed to finish all the reading in the drawer and half of Lee Maracle’s book Will’s Garden. We’re still unpacking stuff and cleaning up, doing laundry, restocking the fridge, etc. We got the boxed set of 24 for xmas and I broke that open. I suspect I will be glued to the screen for some time.

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