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We did get closer to the great gaping crater of Mount St. Helen's (which was kind enough to belch up some steam for us) but this was the better photo:
Here's a shot from the return trip along the lush, rocky northern California coast, not far from the Oregon border (and an hour's drive from my present home):
And lastly, the gorgeous redwood canopy blanketing Highway 101 near the northern California coastline, where (thankfully) the word heatwave has absolutely no meaning whatsoever:
Whewww! Returned last night from a whirlwind weekend visiting Marney and friends in lovely Portland (or, more accurately, Vancouver, WA). Having never been to the much-ballyhooed city of Portland, I was eager to do some exploring, which we had little time for, sadly. We did manage to hit the world-famous Powell's bookstore, preceded by delicious platefuls of the cheapest sushi I've ever had the pleasure of consuming. We're talking cheaper than a New York City cab ride (and far tastier, at that). And Washington State... well, let's just say they don't call it the "Evergreen State" for nothing.
Saturday, we trekked up to Mount St. Helen's and effectively ended my lifelong volcano virginity. There, my compadres were treated to a remarkable display of the colossal geekdom that is me, as I insisted on thoroughly examining every exhibit and soaking up whatever interesting volcano factoids I could stuff into my head. I won't apologize for my blatant geekery--the whole thing was neat-o. As in FAR OUT! And my geologist friends here at work are all jealous I got to peer into the steaming crater from Johnston Ridge Observatory (a few of them made the trip last fall but were prohibited from ascending to the topmost observatory point due to volcanic activity).
No rest for the wicked this week, as it's back out on the road Friday to head down to San Francisco, where Josh will bravely finish his second Alcatraz Swim this month. Yes, that's two swims across San Francisco Bay in ONE MONTH. And no, he's not entirely off his rocker. Just far enough this side of crazy to fit nicely into my life.
Two teenage girls--one gnawing on a plastic straw and the other sporting pajama bottoms with clouds on them--overheard yapping loudly down the aisle from me at Eureka Natural Foods (where I had ventured to purchase some soy crisps, to which I have become horribly addicted):
Obnoxious Teen #1 (straw chewer): Hey, get your mom something healthy. Moms like healthy stuff!
OT #2 (pajama bottom-wearer): Dude, MY mom doesn't!
OT #1: Yeah, she does! She eats PowerBars!
OT #2: Oh yeah. You're totally right.
No time to write this afternoon, but I thought I'd share this head-scratcher: a recent visitor to this site found me by conducting a Google search for... ready for this?... "Melody's butt."
Briefly: I'm sad the shuttle launch was postponed. I'm glad Rove is in the hot seat. I'm sad insurgents killed a whole group of Iraqi kids. Our president is going to have one hell of a time washing all that blood from his hands. Hope all that oil keeps you warm at night, Dubya.
Meanwhile, those plucky French have gone and given me a new reason to like them.