Maytag Saga

Just got back from Sears. Had to buy a new refrigerator. The old one was only 21 months old, but it died, compressor seized up, and since I didn't buy the extended warranty, I either had to pay what the fridge cost new to repair it, or buy a new one, so we bought a new one and got a great deal at Sears. They are even going to deliver it tomorrow! The next day! 

Maytag, which is Whirlpool, won't stand behind their products. We expected to pay for repairs since we didn't buy a service agreement, but we never expected a major part like a compressor to take a dump before the $1500. appliance was less than 2 years old. Home Depot sold it, but they can't do anything. 

Sears, even though they are made by Whirlpool, will stand behind this new appliance, and I did opt to buy a service agreement. I am 64 years old and I don't ever remember having a refrigerator die like this. I realized that I never had that experience before because we, and our parents before us, always bought our appliances at Sears. 

It was in November of 2011 when we purchased new kitchen appliances. If I remember correctly, we went to Home Depot because they were having some sort of a sale and we actually got a few hundred dollars off for buying three appliances, a microwave, a stove and a refrigerator.

It was the microwave that petered out and quit, and although we don't use it a lot, my daughter and the Grandkids that live in the same house with us, use it. The one in question was a built-in that came with the house when we purchased it in March of 2009.

We went to get a replacement for the microwave and we saw this really nice stove. We like to cook with natural gas and we had a stove, but the one we had was old and had been moved around quite a bit. It was also the cheapest model stove you could buy and it was poorly insulated. It had absolutely no frills like a timer or thermometer. It seemed like a good time as any to replace that old stove while the appliance sale was going on. The model we bought was made by GE and the price was good as it was on sale, so we bought it.

The refrigerator was also on  sale and with the purchase of the other two, we saved another hundred bucks. That, along with my 10% discount for being a disabled veteran, gave us a pretty good deal. We did purchase a service agreement on the stove because it had a lot of electronics on it. We didn't on the microwave because we could replace the entire microwave for under three hundred dollars, the service agreement was half that, so we opted out.

The refrigerator? Well, as I mentioned, I never had a refrigerator go out in my lifetime. A switch here or a control there, but never a compressor. Guess what? We were really surprised when everything in the freezer started to thaw and the whole thing died.

The repairman from the appliance store came out today to take a look at the Maytag. He tried to jump start the compressor and told us it was dead and seized and would not start. He told us it was junk and that a new compressor would be upwards of $700.00 for the part, plus the labor at a small town rate of $80.00 per hour. You'll probably pay more per hour in  Minneapolis or St. Paul.

We called Home Depot. They sell them, but don't service them. They tell you up front not to call them, but rather call the manufacturer for repairs. Since we didn't buy the service contract that goes beyond the one year warranty period, the warranty was non-existent after 1 year from November 2011.

We called Maytag, but couldn't get through their automated phone system. We did a "live" chat. The minimum wage phone correspondent answered our questions, but offered nothing as far as even a chance to talk to someone in a position of accountability. In other words,  "No", we couldn't speak to a supervisor. The phone call center clerk was as far as we get to go when dealing with a problem with a Maytag/Whirlpool appliance.

In the meantime, everything we bought and put in the freezer was salvaged by some quick work. We have a second refrigerator in the downstairs and it was almost empty. It's filled now, but that made it quite a nuisance to go up and down a flight of stairs, a chore i don't do well anyway, to fetch the milk or orange juice.

It's been like this since Friday morning. Today is Monday, and Sears will deliver the new refrigerator tomorrow, and they apologized that they couldn't give us a firm time as other deliveries that were scheduled might take longer than expected in some cases. We were more than willing to accept that. We'll be home tomorrow and be waiting for the new fridge.

I am disappointed with Maytag/Whirlpool. I didn't expect a new refrigerator or to do the repairs for free, but I thought they would at least be sympathetic to our plight. Well, I got news for them, I can't put them out of business, but I'll be grinding on them about this for a long time to come. If I stop one person from buying a Maytag I'll be happy. 

Maytag Sucks, pass it on.

Peace anyway, (except to those that make the policy at Maytag.) 

Joe Matradatz

It's Friday, August 9, 2013. On Fridays, a bunch of us gather from around the globe and write haiku poetry, tell stories, display photos and generally just visit back and forth and share bits of our lives with each other. We call it Haiku My Heart
Join the fun. Visit Rebecca's blog, recuerda mi corazon.

What is excitement?

Finding your name in bright lights

Maybe I'm famous

When I was a young boy growing up in the Chicago suburbs, we had a name that we would use when we wanted to tell a story or a joke or tease someone. It was a name for a nondescript male of the species. We would say Joe Matradatz. That’s Mah-Trah-Dots’, with the accent on the Dots. It isn’t unusual to use the first name of Joe, as that is customary in many cases, like when I referenced it in a previous post of mine entitled "The Name Game"

I revolted. “If Joe isn’t more popular than that, why do we have so many references to Joe?” 

Who hasn't heard these phrases; Hey Joe, (Where you goin’ with that gun in your hand?), Cuppa Joe, Morning Joe, Joe Momma, Plain Old Joe, GI Joe, Say it ain’t so, Joe, Joltin' Joe, Joe from Kokomo, Joe this, Joe that, Joe the other. Joe the plumber. Joe the bartender. Joe’s Bar. Joe’s Diner. Joe’s Bar and Grill, Eat at Joe’s. Joe Mauer, Shoeless Joe Jackson, Joe Namath, Joe Montana, Joe Hill. 

Cowboy Joe, Joe Millionaire, Joe Blow, Average Joe. Not to mention the use of Joe as a middle name. Billy Joe, Bobby Joe, Randy Joe. There is a town called Joe, North Carolina and a Joey is what they call a baby kangaroo in Australia. And how many more using the shortened version, spelling Joe without the “E” on the end like Mary Jo? Who is Joe Blow anyway?

Why when I was a kid, a fictitious character we all sought to mock was a character we called Joe Matradatz! I mean, if James is so damn popular, why don’t they use his name for coffee? Cuppa Jim, or Jim Matradatz?

Anyway, you get the point, I think. But in real life, one of the things that was more than subtle that we noticed while on our recent trip to British Columbia was the common, and even frequent, occurrence of the name Joe, or a derivative, in the form of what my Mother called me when she wasn’t angry. That would be Joey. 

Joseph was what she used to call me when she wanted my attention or was angry. Joey was what people called me when I was growing up and what most of my family and some old friends call me even today.

The first Canadian town we stayed in, Cranbrook, BC, had us finding a suitable place for dinner on a very hot sultry July day. In a handy guide to area restaurants that we found in our motel room, we spotted a place that served fish and chips and on Tuesdays, you could get all you can eat.

Guess what? It was a Tuesday, and the place wasn’t far from the motel. In fact, you could see the sign for the place from the motel room window.

It was called Joey’s Seafood Restaurant. I guess there’s a chain of them in Canada. But the weird part of this story is that before dinner, we were spending some time shopping for little gifts and post cards we could send to our Grandkids and we saw the big Walmart Supercenter, but we didn’t want to shop somewhere that was familiar. After all, we were in Canada, a foreign country. 

Besides, we usually don’t go to corporate chain stores or dining establishments, but since we were in Canada and didn’t know any better, and since it was named Joey’s, which is my name, we thought it okay to try the eating place out for dinner, but not the Walmart for shopping.

Real Canadian Superstore

We wandered down a street that intersected the main drag through town and saw a large stand alone store with a hugh parking lot. It turned out to be the “Real Canadian Superstore”. We parked and went in. We were giggling to ourselves at the prospect of not having any Canadian currency in our pockets and how conspicuous we seemed to be. A stop at an ATM and a hundred dollars in Canadian bills later, at an exchange rate of $0.97 American cents to each Canadian dollar, thank you very much, and we were in business.

What caught our eye was in the clothing department, where we shopped for close-out bargains of T-shirts that were left over from Canada Day, which had past. Now, like Christmas wrapping paper on the day after Christmas and Halloween candy in November, said T-shirts were reduced up to 50%. Yes, the bargain had our attention, but the designer label for all apparel at the Real; Canadian Superstore was Joe Fresh..

Joe Fresh

After shopping, it was time to eat and we went to Joey's Seafood Restaurant. as planned.The food was so-so. Service was terrible as the place got slammed with fast-arriving customers when we were there. Aside from that, we still thought the name unique. 

I took a paper napkin with the name on it as a souvenir. Imagine, a restaurant with my name. How cool was that?

Joey’s Seafood Restaurant

It wasn’t long after, the next evening to be exact, we stayed in the town of Hope, BC. Sure enough, we spotted Joe’s Restaurant and Lounge. We considered eating there, but opted for some fresh fruit from the local grocery instead. Still, another eating establishment with that all too familiar name, my name, Joe.

Joe’s Restaurant and Lounge

The next day, while we were getting around and seeing some sights in Vancouver, we saw another place named Joey Broadway. Turns out, these too are a chain of Joey restaurants throughout Canada. We didn’t eat there either, but we did go around the block, in very busy traffic I might add, to get a photo of the Joey Broadway sign.

Joey Broadway

Next, we were in Klamath Falls, Oregon and saw this gas station deli sign. Sure enough, Joe’s Deli Mini Mart. That’s where I filled the gas tank on the Edge, at Joe’s.

Joe’s Deli Mini Mart

I tell you, there were a few other places with that name on them all over the place. Joe’s Cafe, Joe’s Diner, Joe’s Barber Shop, Joe’s Lock and Key, and on and on. So many, I stopped turning around to take pictures of all the signs. Joe this and Joe that. Seeing my name being so popular could have gone to my head. But it didn’t. I did comment to Mrs. Spadoman that I never saw one place that was called Barb’s or Barbara’s along the entire trip.

Anyway, mundane as it seems, it is a thrill to see something with your name on it publicly. Plenty of Joe’s and Joey’s out there this trip. It was fun joking and laughing about it and taking pictures of the signs.

Here a Joey, there

A Joey, everywhere a

Joey Joe Joey

Peace

From the Personal Archives

Haiku My Heart

August 2, 2013

Young boys frolicking 

Shadows of Nui Ba Den

A long time ago

Personal Photos and Video (Click on this to view video)

To be honest, I don’t know if I’ve ever posted this YouTube video before. I’ve had it for a while, just can’t remember if you’ve seen it. If so, I apologize. The Haiku is new, I wrote it this morning. If not, it is unique in that these are my personal photos from 1969 in the Republic of Vietnam. 

This YouTube video was made from snapshots. Most of them taken in the Republic of Vietnam in 1969 when I served in the US Army’s 25th Infantry Division. A few of them were taken a short time after I returned home. 

Disclaimer:

None of these depict the ravages of war from a standpoint of the death and destruction or combat operations. Read that to mean there are no dead bodies or photos of people shooting guns.

What is evident by some of these photos are the grim facial expressions on some and the terrain in the background as well as the armament by way of vehicles and weapons. Also, there are many with smiles on our faces. War was not a 24/7 affair. We were not locked into mortal combat every minute of every day. In fact, most of these photos were taken when we had a chance to relax and we did indeed have smiles on our faces. We didn’t have time to grab a camera when we were involved in combat operations.

The soundtrack is unique in the fact that it was recorded on a small battery powered boxy cassette recorder that was simply activated as we were in a bunker in a base camp near the city of Tay Ninh. I’m sure there was pot and alcohol involved. Down time like this was a time to let loose. The day the music was recorded was the day before one of the guys was leaving to go home. A going away party for a fellow soldier.

It is a little over nine minutes long. Having these memories as a YouTube video doesn’t allow the viewer to dwell on any one photo for long unless you have the stop gap capability on the equipment you are using to view the video. Of course I have the original cassette tape and the actual photos. I also have more tapes of other times during my stay in Vietnam, and a 10 minute piece of video taken during my last days in country. I offer to share this part of my life on my Round Circle blog.

Enjoy the film, enjoy the music, enjoy...

Peace

More Haiku My Heart can be seen at Rebecca's blog, recuerda mi corazon

Lost Heart

Haiku My Heart

July 26, 2013

Don’t get an opportunity like this too often. Today is Friday, the day I participate at Haiku My Heart through my friend Rebecca’s blog, recuerda mi corazon. It’s also my first born daughter Maggie’s birthday. 

Please cut and paste if link doesn't work: http://corazon.typepad.com/recuerda_mi_corazon/

As everyone in our family has their mind on Maggie, I guess we have decided to get together and have a birthday party tonight here at Spadoville.

We couldn’t think of anything that Maggie really liked a lot other than Diet Coke, so, we’re making shish kabobs and the youngest daughter will bring dessert. That will be a surprise.

In the meantime, that’s where my mind is these past few days, so please indulge me as I pay tribute.

Maggie, Please come back

I knew you would, if you could

Love and miss my child

This is one of my favorite photographs of the children. Maggie is in the middle with Jayne on her left and Alyssa on her right. This had to be 1979 and Jayne was 2 years old, Alyssa 3, and Maggie 6. They are playing in our backyard when we lived on Laurel Avenue in St. Paul. Click it to enlarge. It's a rich warm black and white.

July 26, 1973. We were living in Brookfield, IL back then. Mrs. Spadoman’s dad gave us some money for a down payment to buy a house. We lived across 31st Street and one block West of Raymond, the street where Mrs. Spadoman’s mom and dad lived, and where she grew up from around eight years old until she married me and moved out in 1971.

It was a small two bedroom affair that was built on a cement slab. No basement, just the two bedrooms, a living room, kitchen and bathroom. There was a single car garage that we tore down so we could build a two-car garage.

I sold my 1970 orange Plymouth Barracuda when Barb got pregnant with Maggie. I bought a station wagon. A 1972 Ford Torino Station Wagon. Traded in a two door hard top sports car for a family truckster. Maybe I was thinking we’d have a bunch of kids. Maybe I didn’t know what I was thinking, or don’t remember. But by August of 1974, just one year and one month after Maggie was born, we traded in the station wagon, bought a Dodge van and moved to Minnesota. We haven’t looked back since.

We had her name picked out already. We didn’t know what sex the baby was going to be before she was born, but we picked out a boy and a girl name. If I’m remembering correctly, I think we had Andrew for a boy so we could call him Andy. That was after no one in particular.

We had it in our mind to name a girl Margaret so we would call her Maggie. Margaret Ellen, with Ellen for a very dear friend who is still a very dear friend and someone we love and respect deeply.

Maggie was born in the middle of the morning. Back in those days, I was in a waiting room and the doctors and nurses took care of the birth and all. I was shown the baby in the nursery behind a glass window. 

No matter, she was a precious dear little soul and I still feel the feelings I had when each of my three daughter’s were born. The second two, I was involved with the birthing by being there, in the delivery room, and in the case of the youngest, I participated by actually wielding the scissors that cut the umbilical cord. I was given the baby to hold immediately after their Mother held them. It was Barb that handed them to me to hold.

Last month, on June eighth, we remembered that it was 22 years ago that we lost Maggie. She was involved in a car accident that took her life and the life of the driver, young Jim Cooper. Also in the car was her friend Adrienne. We are so fortunate to still have Adrienne around and get to see her now and then.

So, this day and this Haiku is dedicated to my daughter, Maggie. I’ll save some cake and ice cream for you.

Peace

Food Glorious Food

Monday Mystery Tour
July 22, 2013

Everybody has to eat, right? And some are more adventurous than others when it comes to eating. I’m one of those people, and along with Mrs. Spadoman on any kind of trip, whether it be to the Twin Cities to the “big” thrift store or on a 5000 mile road trip like we did the first two weeks of July, we wonder where our next meal will be.

Let me tell you, “We’re not fussy eaters”, but the kind of place we try to find when traversing territory strange to us far far from home is so important to us that we’ll skip a meal rather than accept dining at someplace we just don’t like the looks of. All chain corporate franchises are out of the question and never considered.

Of course we carry a couple of bags of assorted tidbits of food, condiments and essential utensils along with a well-stocked cooler that ices down plenty of fruit, veggies, cheese, cold water from the Lake Superior springs and the hallowed half-and-half for our coffee, but at least one meal, taken in a place that hopefully satisfies the adventurous spirit while traveling, is always on our daily agenda.

We had several great scores on this recent trip. Some good places across the breadth of the journey. Places like The Starlite Cafe in Vale, Oregon and the Tall Town Cafe in Lakeview, OR will receive honorable mentions as places we’d definitely go to again. In this group are also Gills By the Bay in Eureka CA. and the Montana Coffee Traders coffee shop in Whitefish are definitely on the ‘mention’ list as well.

The top places, which I will review individually in due time are The Dragonfly Cafe in Salmo, BC, The Owl Spirit Cafe in Port Townsend, WA and Ma Mosa’s in Grants Pass, Oregon. In the meantime, let me tell you about our experience at a seafood dining establishment we found to our liking in Victoria, British Columbia, called Nautical Nellies.

Nautical Nellies was billed as the best restaurant in British Columbia and seemed to be a famous and expensive seafood restaurant in the bustling downtown of Victoria proper.

Here, at this link,is a gallery of photos of their fare from their website. I’ve included a few photos that I took as we had a late afternoon/early evening dinner that included deviled eggs, with blue crab and proscuitto, as an appetizer along with the raw oysters on the half shell that only I succumbed to.

Deviled eggs, sorry, we had them almost all eaten when I decided I was going to take a picture

Incidentally, one of my reader friends used the word, if it is a word at all, “Gak”, when I mentioned raw oysters. I don’t think it’s a word but rather a guttural sound made from the back of the throat. The same one I get when I smell curry. But I have no “Gak” reaction to raw oysters, well chilled, on ice, served with lemon, horseradish and my choice of five different kinds of Tabasco brand Louisiana Hot Sauce.

Oysters on the half shell

Mrs. Spadoman enjoyed a “small plate”. It was called the “Bag O’ Doughnuts” which included Crab, Lobster and Shrimp Fritters. These were all battered and deep fried and served in a small brown paper lunch bag that had the uppermost part of it torn off so the diner wouldn’t have to stick their hand too far into the bag to retrieve the delicate seafood morsels.

Mts. Spadoman's "Bag O' Doughnits"

Prior to the Bag ‘O Doughnuts, she opted for the French Onion Soup that was to die for, or so I was told. It certainly had a beautiful presentation and looked like a fountain exploding from the vessel it was served in.

French Onion Soup

I had the West Coast Paella which included Halibut, Salmon, Scallops, Shrimp, Bistro Prawns, Chorizo sausage with peppers and onions, all with a spicy creole rice topped with Mussels. That is a mouthful, literally and figuratively., and it was delicious!

Freshly ground black pepper was being added to my West Coast Paella

Of course, I lubed up with a couple of Vodka Martinis since I wasn’t going to be driving. Nautical Nellies is right next to the Black Ball Ferry dock on the inward harbor where we would catch the evening ferry to Port Angeles, Washington later that day.

The waitstaff were neat and orderly and very friendly. As much time as was needed was taken with our choices, including comments about who was in the kitchen on this particular day and if that chef does one dish or the other exceptionally well. It might have been lip service, but we enjoyed the conversation and tipped handsomely for the time spent with us.

Besides, here we are in Canada and the waiter was from Ohio. It was the Fourth of July and we all mentioned the peacefulness born to us by the lack of fireworks in the “foreign” country. Of course that was over after our evening ferry ride to Port Angeles, where at dark, when the ship arrived in the American Port, the blasts and colorful displays occurred for a few hours and were seen clearly in all directions from the second story balcony of the Flagstone Motel.

I’d return to Nautical Nellies. It was expensive, but we were on vacation and sometimes expenses and extravagances like this are not only unavoidable, but mandatory.

Next, breakfast somewhere along the journey.

Peace

Form Mimics Function

Haiku My Heart

July 18, 2013

Each week, on Friday, many gather and share their life, art, comedy and tragedy under this Haiku My Heart heading. All started over three years ago by my friend Rebecca, a vibrant soul that gives us all a lift in all her beautiful postings.
You can see more Haiku My Heart and find out how to participate at her blog, recuerda mi corazon.

(I can't get the link to work, so here's the blog URL. Please just cut and paste it, I'm a dunce)
http://corazon.typepad.com/recuerda_mi_corazon/

Reflected sunset aboard the M.V. Coho, Strait of Juan de Fuca

Travel on water

Seasick behemoth floating

Form mimics function

The amphibious Hippo Bus

If you’ve stopped by recently, you’ve seen that we have been on an adventurous road trip. I wrote about the trip itself in the posting previous to this one entitled Motoring West. One of many highlights of this trip were the three ferry rides we took from Vancouver on the Canadian mainland to Vancouver Island and the British Columbia Provincial Capital, Victoria. From there, we ferried again to the USA across the Strait of Juan de Fuca.

The city of Victoria is a pretty large metropolitan area and in fact, is the 15th largest city in Canada. Being near the sea, there is a lot of tourism and many of the attractions include the water.

We could have driven across the border as we traveled from the East of Vancouver through the mountains of British Columbia, but we chose to use the ferry and have that experience.

Of course we saw a plethora of boats of every shape and size. Kayaks, small aluminum fishing boats, cabin cruisers, Coast Guard vessels, cruise line ships in port, freight haulers, the ferry boats themselves and the many water taxis and novelty watercraft that lured the tourists in for fun, adventure and sightseeing.

One of these boats was called "The Hippo".The photo at the beginning of this post is a stock photo of a "Hippo" from their website. These giant vehicles are amphibious and can move about on land and in the water, yet they are the size of a bus, a very large bus.

We had seen them driving around Victoria as we were looking to park so we could eat at Nautical Nellies, a famous and expensive seafood restaurant in the bustling downtown of Victoria proper that has, as we were told, been voted as the "Best Restaurant in Victoria, BC". By the way, a full restaurant review of Nautical Nellies and a few other great dining establishments we encountered along our journey will be forthcoming in the days ahead. Finding unique coffee shops and places to eat is a passion that both Mrs. Spadoman and I relish to the max.

I didn’t snap any photos of the Hippo Buses we saw that were on dry land, but I did get a couple of shots from the ferry as we were waiting to depart the dock. These behemoths do indeed float!

So, we were relaxing on the rear deck in the sunshine. The weather was pleasant. A lot cooler than the high inland temperatures we had just experienced, so we sat outside, even though many folks sought the coziness of the inside cabin during the ride. Locals, I’d guess.

When I saw the Hippo bus coming towards us, and as I was grabbing the camera out of the case to get ready to take some pictures, I pointed in the direction where I saw the very large bus/boat coming from and exclaimed, rather loudly, to Mrs. Spadoman:

“Look, here comes the Hippo!”

The Hippo on the horizon

As if on cue, a cue that would have been good enough for any Hollywood producer either of us had ever worked for, a woman of portly proportions walked up the metal stairway and stepped onto the sun deck, directly in the path of my gnarled pointing finger!

The Hippo, afloat and underway in the harbor

I put my arm down and quit pointing immediately and got up and walked to the rail to take the pictures. I never looked back to see if the woman saw me pointing “at her” or nearly shouting with enthusiasm what I had said about her size.

I mean, what if this happened to you? You or I walked into a room and someone pointed and called you a hippo? I’m still a large framed man, and although I don’t weigh in at a svelte 270 pounds, (122 kilograms), like I did in 1985, I still have some girth to contend with and would have easily accepted the fact that someone could perceive me as a hippo, or a rhino, or even an elephant! Yet I would never believe in a thousand years that any normal human being, who was a stranger, would call me any of those things to my face! 

Maybe if they knew me well enough to get away with it, but an imbecile in a place as public as the sundeck of a ship that holds 410 cars and 2100 people that has just pulled away from port for the nearly 2 hour journey across the sea!!??

Oh well. Luckily, she didn’t seem to notice, Mrs. Spadoman informs me long after she left the area. But all the while, I was waiting with one eye scanning fore and aft of the ship and keeping plenty of space between myself and the rail for fear of being pushed overboard. Imagine, a Pirate Cap’n, well seasoned such as meself, in fear of his own life on any ship, even if it wasn’t under my command.

Avast Ye Mateys! Thar be large animals aboard. Shiver me timbers. Retreat to starboard and pass the cutlasses and flintlocks. Ye can’t know when trouble will strike.

Next time through Victoria, BC, I’m gonna take a ride on a hippo.

Late edition to this post is this short, 1 minute, 22 second YouTube of the Ferry and the Hippo:
http://youtu.be/elbl6MjOoR8

Peace to all

Motoring West

We’re home! We actually  got home Sunday afternoon, but after 15 days on the road and 5180 miles, (That’s 8336 kilometers), we had a lot of unpacking and laundry to do. It’s not easy unloading sticks, rocks, t-shirts, sweatshirts and trash out of the car after such a journey.

We had great fun, and we actually went to places we have never been to before as well as the more familiar haunts revisited, and driven on roads I have never driven on in both familiar and strange

places!

Lake Christina in British Columbia

Canadian flag at the Roosville border crossing

We got an early start and left Sunday afternoon and made 265 miles to Fargo, North Dakota. We spent the night there and avoided driving through St. Paul and Minneapolis in Monday morning rush hour to head West. Monday morning had us on I-94 and well into Montana, Great Falls to be exact, by Monday evening.

Provincial Government, complete with totem pole on the far right of the photo.

From there we traveled North through Glacier National Park and rode the Going to the Sun road before meeting the Canadian border at Roosville.

Our border crossing was totally uneventful and besides the showing of passports to the agent, there was no difference from the numerous times we crossed into Canada when we lived near the border in the very early 1990’s. I got a kick out of the question, “Do you have anything with you to protect yourselves?”

I answered, “No, should I?” 

That response was greeted with a smile. I’m glad he had a sense of humor. We had no guns, ammo, plants or items we were going to sell in Canada.

Mrs. Spadoman and Bigfoot are old friends. Who knew?

We got to a town in Eastern British Columbia named Cranbrook and got a motel room. It was very hot, over 95 degrees, (That’s 35 Celsius). The room was cheap enough, and so was the old almost expired air conditioning unit. We did get some air to move around and got a good nights sleep despite the heat and headed out early the next day to travel on the Crowsnest Highway, British Columbia Highway 3.

BC 3, Crowsnest Highway

We were in the mountains the entire journey towards the coast and Vancouver. Beautiful vistas overlooking large expanses of fertile valleys, deep blue lakes, rivers plump with water and pine laden mountain tops. We stopped for the night with an easy 2 hour drive to Vancouver in sight, but we were sorry we made reservations on the ferry lines as we saw many roads that we wanted to take. We even missed a chance to meet a blogger friend from that way that hinted to us that there were not one, but two, great coffee shops in thew town near where she lived.

We took time to smell the flowers.

We did get to eat at a couple of great little cafes that we found along the way. I’ll write about there in depth later when I do separate restaurant reviews. One was the Dragonfly Cafe in Salmo, BC, the other was The Round Up Cafe in suburban Vancouver. I wasn’t aware of the Russian/Eastern European influence in this part of the continent. I had fried perogies, eggs and potatoes with Ukrainian sausage for breakfast, complete with sourdough toast and local jam.

A shot through the sideview mirror in a tunnel, Vancouver, BC

We took a ferry from Vancouver to Victoria Island and the Provincial capitol of British Columbia, Victoria and had a wonderful seafood dinner at Nautical Nellies where I satisfied my craving for raw oysters. We took another ferry to Port Angels, Washington, USA later that evening, just in time to see firework displays for the Fourth of July. On some level, we both wondered why we didn’t stay in Canada another night to avoid the noise!

Ferry service!

The next morning, we traveled the Olympic Peninsula and took yet another ferry to Seattle after a great breakfast in Port Townsend at The Owl Spirit cafe. (Yes, this place made one of the top three that I will review in the days to come). In Seattle, we were greeted by a fellow I have known since I served in Vietnam as a young soldier. I hadn’t seen him inn44 tears. We have been in touch via e-mail for the past year or so. It was a delight to connect with him.

A lot of places named Joe's or Joey's in Canada. I like that!

Although we only spent 24 hours as a guest of my friend Howard, we came away feeling grand for the experience. We shared the highlights, and maybe a few lowlights, of out lives since we parted company in 1969. We made a pact to get together again, within the next year. Either at my place or his, or maybe in between somewhere.

Raw oysters on the half shell with tabasco and lemon. A real treat for me.

From Seattle, we traveled South through Oregon and spent the night in Grants Pass, a great town with great scenery and weather on the Rogue River. Found yet another fantastic eclectic eatery called Ma Mosa’s for breakfast. This one also made the cut as one of the top three.

My friend Howard after breakfast at one of his hometown places.  Friendships have no time limits.
(Howard on the left)

We drove into California and spent the next 4 days at our lifelong friend’s place where I got out on one of Hal’s motorcycles, played music with Hal and another friend from long ago and visited friends and friend’s Grandkids.

Actually a color photo taken in the morning fog along the Northern California coast

It was time to go home as all good things must come to an end. Took us four days, with the last two being long drives, but that’s because we spent the first two days on the road towards home cruising through parts of Oregon, Idaho and Montana we had never been.

Another business establishment with that great name!

We made it, and vowed that next time we make a spontaneous road trip, we would make no reservations for any motels or ferry boats and would call our friends we were to visit when we got to town.

My friend Steve with his new Fender Stratocaster 1962 reissue guitar.

We took over 275 photos and several short movies that I have yet to edit. As I said, restaurant reviews are to come along with more photos.

Catching up to a thunderstorm while traveling at sunset gave us this rainbow as we entered North Dakota

Inn the meantime, It was good to get back out on the road. It has been a while. Health concerns have kept me from doing what I love, driving through the country, and now, through the continent. Did you know there is a whole ‘nuther country North of us? They use strange numbers to figure things out like kilometers, celsius and meters. How do I know this? I got a “courtesy” parking ticket in Vancouver because my vehicle was over three meters. (metres) in length. They have weird money too. Loonies and Twonies, (or is it tooneys?) Did you know they got rid of pennies?

Canadian Sunset on the straits

Peace to all