High-rise hell and too much food

Sue had never been to Florida, and I hadn't been for many, many years. I have fond memories of paddling in a boat-like thing across a lake owned by the hotel, seeing deep into clear water at Clearwater (???), and doing something-or-other that was fun at Ocala Caverns. It was in the early 1960s. I remember a lot of flat land and I don't remember that much development.

Our hosts for the current trip were located in Miami Gardens. They'd paid for our flight and our hotel and would buy us some meals on the day we met with them. Other than that, we were on our own, and we'd decided to stay a couple of extra days. It was a stretch of the budget for both of us, but we were already going to be there, so why not? But Florida may not be the best destination for two aging women who don't tolerate heat. It was January, and we were not only warm, but very tired. Exhausted from a December of extremely hard work and Astoria's first hurricane, we hand worked to ship orders on time despite power outages in the freezing weather and dark days that followed. It had been a heavy Christmas season in the gift shop - which, in and of itself, is a great thing. So, the first blast of muggy heat getting out of the airport and into a rental car was a bit much. We thought we'd sleep it off, though, until we found that the hotel accommodations were less than we had expected. I don't mean to dwell on it, but let's say sleeping was difficult, so neither of us ever got really rested. About all we wanted to do the first day was catch up on sleep as we could and get out a little to see some sights if we could do it without getting too hot.

That effort turned into a quest for edible food. The Aventura area is deluged with food, as we would find out - mostly either exorbitantly expensive, or junky fast food, which we were seriously trying to avoid. We drove around a bit and found a famous and actually very good huge deli, the Rascal House. As it turns out, it's also famous, and some of the only history left in the area, with McDonald's, Taco Bell and other look-alike boxes taking over. We each ordered a couple of things. That's when we learned something else about Florida. They feed you as if you were an elephant. Not hay, but tons and tons of everything else. Oh my god. We tried, but we were not used to this, and the eyes-bigger-than-stomach thing kicked in. We both ended up bloated and feeling almost miserable. We took pounds of food back to the room to save a few bucks, but much of it was fried and useless and off the low-glycemic plan on which we'd both been feeling very good.

This is Sue saying, "Nope, I've had enough." This photo is AFTER we'd finished eating! Don't they know that there are people starving, and how the heck does anyone think we became such fat people in this country? We didn't realize yet that the food issue was not limited to this restaurant.

As for sightseeing, we couldn't seem to find the ocean. The whole beach front was under construction, "One Way," or had literal or implied "Keep Out" signs. So we went back to relax and maybe sleep, and figured we had another day or so to find the sights.

Tripping

Sue and I are beginning our trip to Florida, where we were invited to visit one of the Tapir and Friends Gift Shop's vendors, Safari Ltd. We got up early to get to the airport in Portland, and it wasn't until our layover somewhere in the middle of the country (I'd have to look it up since I'm posting at a much later date) that I realized I'd been wearing my shirt inside out.

January 11 is also my Dad's birthday, and I've felt sad on that day since he died. I like to remember the day somehow. He loved flying and taking trips, and so do I.

Adventures with a log

THE LOG: ITS STORY

It's not unusual to have logs the size of the ones above wash into the bay between the buildings. They thump and jar the pilings and then wash into the river again. But around the 5th of January we got a big one.

The big storm at the beginning of December dumped an unusual number of trees into the river, and one found its way here on the tide. Above, you can see how it compares to one of the logs that - before this - we used to consider an incident.

Big logs not only knock the pilings around, but are potentially hazardous to the sewer line.

Our log ebbed and flowed with the tides for a couple of days. Fortunately the waves were small or the buildings could have been horribly battered. Interestingly enough, when the water was calm, I could actually push the log a little way into the river with a 2 x 4, but it was no use. Not only did it jam on the base of the radio tower catwalk, but pilings not seen in these photos created a gauntlet between the bay and the river. It would have been almost impossible for something this big and jagged to drift back out.


Eventually, it got hung up on the building. As there were no storms predicted for another day or two, we just hoped nature would pull it off and send it away. I can't say it wasn't fun to watch it - it was - but nobody wanted the building to come apart when the water got rough, which it would do. The small end stuck out of the water near the river end of the building, but we didn't fathom the real size of this thing until the tide went all the way out. It was about 60 feet long, and even people who had seen a lot of debris would stop by to comment.


The tide came in and went out a few times, which only served to catch the log more firmly onto the pilings. What you do then is call the expert pile buck, Ralph Peitsch, who brough his son Andy, the one doing acrobatics on this moving target, on the slickest of surfaces in rain that was nearly ice. (No thanks, Andy, it's all yours!)




When the Peitsches couldn't budge it with Ralph and the pike pole on the deck and Andy on the log, they tied it off and waited. Below you can see the rope attached to the catwalk. On the right is the old Englund Marine building, where the log rope appeared later.



The water came up with the new tide, and then began to subside again. Apparently the time was deemed right. As evening came on, in the cold and rain, they came back with a chain saw and the episode would soon be over. They cut off the "ears" and any part that could hang it up, then they left again.


We saw the other end of the rope this time attached to the neighboring building (the old Englund Marine), which reaches much further into the river than ours does. In the quiet of the night or early next morning when the water was again high, they must have come back with a boat and towed it away. I have to say, this has been one of the more interesting aspects of my short stay on the river so far, and despite the problems it could have caused (we were lucky) . . . I miss the log.

A few pix for the old year

Sunset: A ship on the Columbia River

I'll start with some photos from the end of 2007, in which year (as I notice) I didn't post any. [Note: now that I've learned to back-date posts, I may get around to adding some.] It's been a busy year - more on that later. I took this pic on December 7, 2007, at 6 pm from the deck outside my office on the Columbia River in Astoria. I love the colors on the river, and the quickly-changing weather. I think many of the pix on the blog this year will be about color.

December 2, 2007: A Lull in the Storm

Astoria had a near-hurricane early in December. This photo shows none of the damage. I like the colors through the rain. It was an eerily calm day as Lee and I drove through town knowing there was more to come. Click on the photo to see the house through sheets of water.

More colors, more rain

December 4, 2007, near Clatskanie, Oregon, on Highway 30 along the Columbia River.

Beads from Colombia

I may not have the date right, but part of what TPF received as samples for potential inventory were several strings of seed beads dressed up in cellophane bags with hearts and flowers.

This blog is sponsored by Tapir and Friends Animal Store.