They have the best holidays
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
A very happy Roald Dahl Day to everyone! If Dahl hadn’t died in 1990, today would have been his 90th birthday, and the brilliant folks in Britain had the idea to celebrate. (How cool is that?!)
In honor of Dahl, fans are encouraged to wear yellow, his favorite color, speak in Dahl’s invented language “gobblefunk,” trade books and make up Oompa Loompa dances — a tribute to characters from ”Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.”
In England, a special train ferried fans from London to Great Missenden, 35 miles west of the city, where Dahl lived for more than 30 years. And guides from the Roald Dahl Museum conducted tours of the town, stopping to read passages from stories, and pointed out landmarks that inspired scenes from Dahl’s books, including the library where Matilda reads and Sophie’s orphanage from The BFG, or The Big Friendly Giant.
Why should anyone care about this children’s author? His books, which are darkly comic and feature villainous adult enemies of the child characters, threw open children’s literature to riskier, darker works. (It’s hard to imagine a world without Harry Potter, but without Dahl’s stories, J.K. Rowling would have had a decidedly more difficult time getting her works published.)
If you haven’t read one of his books before, or want to pick up an old favorite, click on the pictures above to locate a copy on Amazon.com.
From Stonehenge to Mt Adams
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Our new computer arrived yesterday, so my pictures of our recent trip to Hood River are languishing on the camera until I have it running. (Never mind the fact that I’m up to my ears preserving plums.) In the mean time, I thought I’d write up the beta on a killer bike ride we did on Sunday.
As you can see from the map, the ride starts and ends in Maryhill, above the Columbia River. This is a spectacular area with wineries, orchards, a full-size reconstruction of Stonehenge, views of Mt. Hood, Mt. Adams, Mt. St. Helens and Mt. Rainier, and rolling golden hills. If you have the time, the Maryhill Art Museum is supposed to be incredible.
After a brief warm-up on Hwy 14, the ride ascends five miles to Goldendale. It’s a tiny town situated on a high plateau. From there you descend an amazingly twisty road (watch out for bridge construction) to the town of Lyle and proceed back along the Columbia River to Maryhill. After 70 miles of riding, you will have climbed nearly 4,000 feet. Not bad!
Directions to Maryhill and route triptik are available by clicking here (must have Adobe Acrobat to view). If you’re getting to the start of the ride via I-5, it may be tempting to start in Lyle. If you do, it will be a long time until you reach Goldendale, so make sure you’re stocked up on Clif Bars and water.
If you found this information helpful and you’d like to show your appreciation, please consider buying me a beer! Thanks for your support and encouragement.
Monday nonsense
Monday, September 11, 2006
The cats were in charge of the house this weekend, while Nick and I were away in Hood River. They thoughtfully put together a list of interesting links for your Monday enjoyment:
- File swap: Upload a file and receive a random file in return. The kitty photo (above) was what I got in exchange for a motorcycle picture.
- What Jeff Killed: The blood-thirsty exploits of a stray feline killing machine. Parental discretion advised. Note: Bentley & Vespa’s hunting skills don’t even come close.
- Stuff on my cat: Do you like to put stuff on your cat? So do we.
- Cats in Sinks: It’s about cats. And kittens. Who like sinks. (Just like Bentley.)
Cirque du St. Helens - Stage 3
Sunday, September 10, 2006

The long bridge leading to the Johnston Ridge Observatory | Copyright 2006 Charles H. Porter, all rights reserved
Editor’s note: While I was climbing Bonanza Peak in early July, Nick and my dad took a three day motorcycle trip. This is their story, as told by Nick.
Sunday, 2 July.
Stage 3: Cougar, Johnston Ridge, Kirkland.
Distance: 200-something miles.
Conditions: Morning –mid 50s. Afternoon – mid-80s.
The drag out to Woodland from Cougar is uninteresting, but Woodland could make a good pick-up point if you were going to do this on bicycle. You could drop a car in Randle and ride to Woodland over two days. It would be a fabulous ride.
Arriving in Woodland, we had our first taste of I-5 for the trip, and I was glad to spit it out again when we exited at Castle Rock for the run up to the Johnston Ridge Observatory.
The road to Johnston Ridge, after two days of exercising restraint due to uncertain road conditions, finally offered the opportunity to turn the wick up. “I followed at a reasonable pace while Nick proceeded to hone the edges of his tires,” Chuck later claimed. One spirited half hour later, we arrived at the Observatory much faster than I had the previous weekend on my bicycle. We were just in time to hear another ranger talk. This one was much more polished than the first. We learned that the 1980 eruption came in four stages: The initial collapse of the mountainside, which in turn allowed an outlet for the second stage – the explosion. The explosion overran the damage caused by the landslide, picking up boulders and trees and carrying them through the air for miles. The bulk of the damage to the surrounding landscape was caused by this blast, which ripped out trees at close range, knocked them over in the medium range, and scorching them at long range. The heat from the explosion melted the glacier and triggered the mud flow we remember from the television footage. The mud scoured the valley to the north of the mountain and adopted the path of the North Fork Toutle River. It washed away cars, destroyed bridges and covered homes. After all this destructive output, the mountain still had the energy to send up the ash plume. As I mentioned earlier, 600 dump trucks of ash per second for twelve hours. No wonder this stuff circled the globe and turned up on Washington’s coast carried by a westerly wind.
The mountain is still erupting, and has been since late 2004. But it’s a gas-poor mountain now, having expended all its gas in the 1980 eruption and never really sealing up enough to allow tremendous pressure to build.
We snapped some photos and hit the road again, this time with a plan to take a few new roads on our way back to Highway 7. We missed a few turns, scratched our heads, and ultimately found our way back to Morton, where we stopped for ice cream bars. Assuring Chuck that I was fine on gas (he carries an extra gallon or so in his tank and gets better mileage to boot, so he was always leery of me not gassing up at every opportunity) we set off for home. The road got hotter and hotter as we approached Puyallup, finally reaching its zenith just before we turned north on 167. Stopping at IKEA sounded good, but with home nearly in sight I put my head down and charged for the barn. I made it all the way home without running out of gas, much to my surprise. The next day, Chuck called me and gave me the official trip mileage – 570 miles. I kept resetting my trip odometer in order to monitor fuel consumption, so I was guessing a lot.
This could be a great bicycle trip, but you need to do a lot of transit to get to the good roads. The trip down 25 from Randle is spectacular. I could see the ride from Randle to Cougar making a very good two-day trip. A detailed Forest Service map would yield a network of dirt roads that connect most major roads in that part of the state. The question is how willing you are to spend part of your tour off-road in order to make it a loop. Put the fat tires on and see how it goes.
Cirque du St. Helens - Stage 2
Saturday, September 9, 2006

Eruption devestation | Copyright 2006 Charles H. Porter, all rights reserved
Editor’s note: While I was climbing Bonanza Peak in early July, Nick and my dad took a three day motorcycle trip. This is their story, as told by Nick.
Saturday, 1 July
Stage 2: Chillin’. Randle to Cougar, WA.
Distance: 65 miles.
Conditions: Morning: Mid-50s to low 60s. Afternoon: 70s to high 80s. Sunny.
We weren’t the only motorcyclists at the Adams and St. Helens Family Restaurant. As we walked in, the rider of the purple Harley outside was paying his bill. Shortly before we left, the pilot of a black KTM 950 walked in.
We got our second helping of Highway 25. Ignoring the turnoff to Windy Ridge we continued south, enjoying the twisty roads and stopping to take in the views. Stopped at a viewpoint, we got to talking with a man on an older Harley Davidson coming from the other direction. “Nice day for it,” “Where’d ye start from?” “Where’r ye going?” “Nice tassels.” This man had left Vancouver, WA, that morning and was meeting his daughter in Randle. He and Chuck got to talking about the magnitude of various volcanic explosions including the one that formed Crater Lake. We parted ways and twenty minutes later found ourselves at the turn off for the Ape Cave. We had no option but to investigate.
The Ape Cave is a lava tube, discovered by a logger and named after his son’s Boy Scout troupe, nicknamed the St. Helens Apes. We took a guided tour led by a park ranger, though you can also walk around the caves on your own. Equipped with a hefty Coleman lantern, we descended the steps into the dark, damp, and very cold cave for some serious chillin’. It’s about 40 degrees in the Ape Cave, and while I loved the mesh jacket for riding in the scorching summer temperatures of the surface, it did precious little to keep me warm down here. To the ranger’s knowledge, nobody had ever lived in the Ape Cave, though Chuck thought it might make a good winter hideout, when the ground is warmer than the air outside.
10 miles down the road is Cougar. When I was an active yacht racer, I used to sail a regatta on Yale Lake, just a few minutes out of Cougar. I thought I remembered the town having a gas station, a few small grocery stores, some bars, and a smattering of other small businesses. You could stock up for the post-race barbecue by going into town. Now, Cougar has a combination gas station/general store, a diner with a bar in the back, and the Lone Fir Resort and RV Park, where we had a room. Following lunch on the deck at the Lone Fir’s modest restaurant, we weighed our options. Chuck wanted to hop back on the bikes to explore the road past the Ape Cave. I was melting. I wanted to sit in the shade by the lake and take a nap. In the end, neither of us won. We sat on the front porch of our motel and watched the campground world go by until dinner time when we got up to play a few games of choose-your-own-adventure darts (neither of us know how to play) and wander down the street for dinner. Funny thing about these little towns. All the food on offer is fried. I opted for the taco salad.
To be continued...
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