The old guys across the way looked on in awe, somewhat startled to see us donning fake mustaches and posing for pictures with martini’s in hand. Next up, several rounds of ladderball, still with cocktails in hand. Yes, it’s right, we have taken camping to a whole different level!
Two years ago today, while still reeling from the loss of Maddy, and completely unsure we were ready for another dog, I nonetheless sent Jim to the Humane Society to look at a black dog named Jones. I then received a text picture of a dog named Porter and the message “Meet Porter, when I hugged him, he just leaned in for the hug”. That evening, Porter became a Delameter.
“We’re sorry, but we’re not going to make it this weekend”. The words rang hollow as we prepared to head to the beach for a weekend of camping with friends. Barview Jetty was the destination to join our dear friends Ron and Dario. Our friends Dave and Anne decided they would come along. Next Dario’s childhood friend Sheila and her boyfriend Randy thought they would make the trip as well. But on Thursday afternoon, Ron let it be known that they would not be joining us.
It can happen at anytime to anyone. Long term travelers succumb most easily because of the sheer intensity they experience regularly, but anyone can experience burnout. Whether it be cathedral/museum burnout on a two-week marathon through Europe, or, in my case, red rock burnout in Moab.
As I stepped out of the camper, I saw Jim already had a warming fire roaring. Porter, luxuriating in the warmth of his new coat, lay curled up on his camp pad asleep. Aspen inched closer to my chair, ever the lap Lab, wanting to be as close as possible.
Two young kids, longing for adventure, meet up in an abandoned house, the lone members of the “Spirit of Adventure” club. They grow up, marry, and dream of traveling to Paradise Falls in South America. But, reality intervenes, and each time their savings jar is filling, a problem occurs, a broken down car, a hospital visit, you know, adult stuff.
Snow days. A rarity in Portland. Having grown up in small town Minnesota, I am familiar with bad winter weather. It’s a big part of the reason I no longer live there. Here in Oregon, where we are quite famous for our dreary, rainy winters, and any real accumulation of snow is a bit of excitement.
We have been busy getting the Black Dog Chronicles up and running in the last week or two, but I wanted to get a brief post off showing a recent weekend at Cape Lookout in pictures. A more detailed post will follow but for now- enjoy the perfection of fall camping in Oregon.
Fall in Oregon is a magical time, and our favorite camping season. With warm days, cool nights, and half filled campgrounds, it’s a campers heaven.
One year ago today, we went to the Humane Society and brought home our sweet boy Porter. Still reeling from the loss of our beloved Maddy, we knew that having a new fur face would help heal our hearts and bring life back into our house.