Dave was able to get out of the house today and go to PT.  He said he wasn’t up to a ride to our favorite shopping spot on the North Santiam.  I drove out there and picked up some things to leave on his porch.  Hope it helps get his strength up.  Of course, I brought some good things back to 1880 too.

Another pointer from Mother:

17. Never chew gum.  Ever!

Elizabeth Louise Harrison was born in Kenefic, Oklahoma, at home, on Saturday, August 11, 1923, at 7:30 p.m., in this house:

Dr. R. P. Dickey was in attendance as were her mother (naturally), Maud Kate Miller Harrison:

and her father, Raymond William Harrison:

She was a beautiful baby.

A beautiful child.

A beautiful  young woman.

A beautiful bride.

And here she is, celebrating 90 years, as beautiful as ever.

Through the years, I have learned a great many things from my mother, some big things, some little things and, in the way of most motherly teachings, some were a matter of do as I say and not as I do.  Some were confusing. Some of them are very good ideas that I use every day.  Some of them I never quite grasped the point of but I did them anyway.  This is only a partial list.

1.  Always keep a pleasant expression on your face.

2.  Always act nice.

3.  Always think of the other person.

4.  Always sit with your knees and feet together.

5.  Don’t tug at your clothes.

6.  Don’t fiddle with your hair or face.

7.  Pull your shoulders back.

8.  Act like a lady.

9.  Keep the curtains/blinds/shutters on your front windows all nice and even.

10. Always check under the toilet lid to make sure it’s spotless. Spruce it up with a bit of toilet tissue if necessary.

11. If you’re in a hurry, just dust the tops of things.

12. Don’t laugh too loudly.

13. Memorize the arithmetic facts. They will never change.  9 x 7 is still 63.

14.  Hold your pencil correctly.

15. Take your time.

16.  Hurry up.

As I said, this is only a partial list.

This twelve-mile section of the Willamette curves around the northwest corner of French Prairie, a one-hundred-square-mile area of small towns and farmland that played a central role in Oregon’s history.  It’s about half-an-hour north of Salem.  It was my only paddle this week as Dave is just home from Silverton Hospital recuperating from his knee replacement and Jim is just leaving for a week of hiking in Glacier and Yellowstone Parks. It is my plan to use this hiatus to achieve a good many tasks here at 1880, but so far I can’t seem to put down the book I am reading (about which, more another time).

The guide books all call this river segment “St. Paul to Champoeg.”  St. Paul is actually no where near the river and a drive through several miles of farmland and woods is required to reach the put-in at a little dirt parking lot and boat ramp called San Salvador (for some reason I have yet to discover but am sure Jim will research it when he returns).  I have done this route once with each paddling buddy, and I’m sure neither will ever do it with me again.  This has nothing to do with the beauty of the river but to do with the impossible take-out required at Champoeg, a lovely, large state park which shares a miles-long boundary with the river — but absolutely no river access except this:

Both the big wheels and the little wheels were employed to haul out our boats but it’s mostly about brute force.

Well worth it, I say.  Spotted this abandoned farmer’s ferry along the way:

And the usual bald eagle and blue heron:

It may be “usual” to spot a bald eagle but it takes my breath away every time.  I generally try to get this magnificent bird to take flight by loudly singing a verse of  “God Bless America” to him.  Jim and Dave tend to paddle on while I’m doing this.

I am thinking of upgrading my waterproof camera to one with a much greater zoom and a good video feature.Last week I missed documenting an amazing episode of an osprey diving down to the river between Harrisburg and Peoria and coming out with a big fish.  He then flew back and forth with it for a while before carrying it to the top of a large electrical pole, filleting it, and delivering the pieces to his family in a nearby nest. Actually, just watching it may have been the better option.  Wow!

As for “Champoeg,” Jim found plenty to read which speculates on the origin of this name.  I’m not buying much of it and plan to come up with my own story.

I must say after lugging the boats up that ramp and loading them on the CRV, I was “depleted.” It is a good thing that the 150-year-old Butteville store is nearby.  Double scoops of Tillamook ice cream revived me.

Roxie and I drove up to check out the dog-friendly yurt and cabin at Champoeg State Park, making plans for a fall campout once school has started and the place has cleared out.  Right now, there is not a single availability.  Hard to believe there are that many kids with bicycles in the entire state.  Can’t decide if I prefer the yurt or the cabin. I think I may try both on separate occasions.

Had to drive past my car dealer’s on the way back into town and pulled in to see if Mike could get me a quick car wash.  No problem.

We took a walk around during our short wait.

Then we went inside for some refreshments.

What? Your car dealer doesn’t have amenities?  Well, that’s just really sad!