Leaving things for others to find

Our Adventures on the Coast were weekend adventures ...Friday we would leave , sometimes after a little league game. And we would return Sunday afternoon usually before dark.

The house was always left clean and spotless as if we had not even been around . If we used wood for the stove we replaced it on the wood stack . There was always wood to split and stack . Dishes washed and put away , beds made .

We would pile into the car and Head home . Bob and I would recount the curves on Highway 53 , surprised I guess their turned out to be the same number . We would turn right on the Sunset Highway and head east back toward Portland . about 30 miles up the road into the Coastal mountain range there was a rest stop . Not much more than a very wide place on the road . there was a natural spring that came out of the hills there and there was a stone enclosure for a water spigot . The water here was cool and sweet . and we soul stop for a drink and rest . MY dad would take a short nap in the car as we played on the grass and explored the creek that ran by the fountain .

Several years ago I was sharing part of this " History " with Lori , it was a rainy day and we had headed over to the Coast for a small vacation . I stopped at this same location . the Faucet was still there ..I wandered a few feet to catch a glimpse of the stream we played in . but the hillside was wet and slick and the under brush was not very inviting . I retreated to the car and we head on our way ..within a few minutes we could tell something was very wrong . The car began to reek ..the smell was horrible . Someone had let there pet run around and the pet had relieved itself near the fountain , and I Had tracked the evidence of this into the car . Realizing the enormity of the problem I pulled over at the first wide spot and immediately began to wipe my feet on any grass ,bush or limbs i could find to remove the offending material .

 Inside Lori worked feverishly with what ever she could find to remove the same material from the Gas and brake Peddle , and from the floor mat . We put what we could not leave behind in a Garbage bag , probably double bagged it . and headed back out . But it was not enough , the strong stench still remained ....and Lori started peeling some oranges we had brought with us for the trip and placing them in front of the hot air vent , then I would grind them up with my foot on the floor ...It eventually got better ..but for years later on the dark and rainy nights if you held your nose just right .....

The next major landmark on our Journey home was the Sunset Tunnel . The Sunset Tunnel was built in 1941 it was a WPA project the Tunnel is 800 feet long. Heading east once out of the Tunnel you begin a decent in to the Willamette Valley . Dad would usually honk his horn as we traveled through the tunnel if He didn't do it we would remind him ,

We would try to get home before dark. This made the unpacking part much easier . each of us had our assigned Tasks . Mine was usually disappearing quietly , and heading across the street to see if Rex were out . Rex made this weekend trip with us a few times , but after the Wounding him with the knife episode , the breaking of his bike during the great raid event , and the burning down the woods catastrophe , Rex's Mother seemed to have plans for him when ever we asked if He could join us .

I always appreciated it when Rex was in the Yard ... If he was not to be seen I would knock on His door , but often no one would come to the door . I found it odd that with as little money as they had that they would leave with the TV blaring and all the lights on ...but People do as people do .

If Rex was available I would spend a little time with him and tell him about all the fish I caught usually adding a little length , and weight to them as well as number ..I did this not to brag but to encourage his Pleading with His mother to let Him join us the next time out .

Rex was usually unimpressed about my fishing adventures ..even at times going so far as to suggest I was gently stretching the truth , however He said it differently.

I had learned when to return to our home just in time to see my dad and brother dragging the tent off the back of trailer and depositing it into the garage . MY " what can I do to help " was warmly greeted and usually well rewarded.

I did take responsibility for unpacking my own gear . Putting my Fishing poles where mom could trip over them and my tackle box in the middle of the floor where i could easily find it the next time out . Leaving the tackle box indoors seemed to have a negative impact on the almost live bait i carried in it . At times it was kind of comical to watch my mother race around the house sniffing both Bob and I trying to figure out what we may have stepped in . As I gained maturity I learned to take the eggs and crawfish tails and clam necks out of the tackle box and store them in the refrigerator . Usually at the back in the corner behind several Jars of half eaten pickles . Sometimes these moldering baits would slip their hiding spots and present themselves to my Mother as she was preparing some meal or another , whenever this happened it did not go well with me or the bait . I don't think my Mother ever understood that some fish preferred old bait as some people preferred old cheese . She also seemed to be somewhat territorial about the refrigerator..when it came to what went into it . My mother was wonderful , but she was not perfect .

If we got home early enough I would watch Omnibus . Then settle in for the wonderful world of Disney ...

The weekend would end with Mom tripping over my fishing poles and dad Demanding I take the tackle box into my room or the Garage . Depending on how stuffed up I was ...I would make a decision and then it was lights out ....the weekdays were coming .