Oregon to Washington

August 29

We packed up the van once again with the first rays of the rising sun shining on us. We had to return our room key but I couldn't find the proprietor, nor was there a key-drop box. A notice by the door in the room said to leave the key on the table, so I did. It felt weird to just pull the door shut.

Down the one-way street into this picturesque town we came to a Texaco gas station. I already knew better than to fill the tank myself. Oregon and New Jersey are two states I know of where self-service is not permitted. We had fun reminiscing with the gas-station attendant about the slogans and TV shows we grew up with as kids that advertized or sponsored Texaco (I remember aspiring to be a fireman when my Dad brought me a red plastic fireman's helmet from a Texaco station; Razelle remembers Milton Berle the Texaco Star Theater Man). While the attendant and Razelle sang parts of the theme song he cleaned all the windows and mirrors and offered to check my oil and water (I check these myself religiously every morning so it wasn't necessary). We left Roseburg very pleased with the nostalgia the entire place evoked.

The ride to Portland was long enough to require another rest stop along the way and when we pulled into one, we again found homeless people there advertising their predicament with a large cardboard sign. We didn't stay here long, either.

Our primary destination today was the home of Raphael in Portland. He is the son of a very close friend in Beer Sheva. He was very keen on having us visit him, no matter how long or short the visit, because we had been so helpful toward his mother, hosting her often in our own home. We arrived in the early afternoon and were greeted warmly by "Rafe", as he is called. His daughter Tamar was home and she made a wonderful impression on us. She was very comfortable discussing her plans after finishing high school and listening to our worldly experiences from our lives when we were her age. I look forward to hosting her when she eventually comes to Israel, as she aspires to do. Rafe prepared salmon for us, too. However, he cooked it in front of Razelle and taught her some of the secrets of his success with this tasty fish. Razelle and I have had salmon served to us by many hosts by now and each has a special way of preparing it. Because Razelle has been impressed each time by these several recipes, she has asked me to invest in a grill for cooking salmon when we get back to Beer Sheva. I'm delighted she feels that way.

We stayed with Rafe and Tamar long enough to miss Portland's rush-hour traffic. Tamar and her friend went out and returned with a quantity of berries they had gathered nearby. Rafe served us Oregon-grown strawberries that were sweet and flavorful, and blueberries that were large and refreshing.

We truly enjoyed the time we had with this family. When the time was right to leave we said our goodbyes and headed across the bridge over the Columbia River and into the state of Washington, our ninth state on this trip.

Night came upon us as we drove. We were on schedule to reach Seattle by 11:00 PM, but as we got closer to Seattle we came upon a congested construction zone, so we exited the highway here for a break from driving and found a service center that included everything a career driver could want: diesel fuel, showers, restaurant, store and TV room. There were quite a few trucks parked outside and quite a few truckers parked inside. Razelle had a very tasty personal-sized vegetarian pizza here. I bought a pair of cloth work gloves for a very low price, turned one of them inside out and inserted that one inside the other. This double-glove arrangement would be my new GPS carrying case until I could find something more appropriate.

Back on the highway we drove into Seattle. In the dark I only had the lanes and overhead signs and my GPS to see, plus the taillights I was carefully following at a safe distance, to guide me through the metropolitan area. Following all these led me onto Mercer Island and down the lanes that took me to Joel's and Sara's home. Joel came out to meet us, followed by Sarah. It was late but we were greeted warmly. We showed them our van and they showed us to our quarters in their spacious home. It was good to be in the home of such cherished relatives (of mine). We visited a short while and then we bid each other good night. Along the way here I had asked Joel if he knew of a good dentist. I had hoped to put this bad tooth behind me. It happens that Sarah's father is a prestigious dentist and I had asked precisely the right person for help with this problem. Help would be found for me, I was promised. Razelle and I climbed into the fold-out sofa bed provided to us and turned off the lights, content with our location and secure in our situation.