tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32933854351014178352024-03-13T02:31:31.926-07:00The Class B & MeBrad Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12103241880488145120noreply@blogger.comBlogger21125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293385435101417835.post-90119171607242478352010-10-03T06:46:00.000-07:002010-10-03T10:54:26.802-07:00Dyea Township, Alaska<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6ECWSVHefG3og8iL3-U67gWMMNAHYDQQaRh8DXiQplI-pinxeZ4Go-CryGThhF5HzoehlbeKf9-4OlZb-VcOksqmxJJ8V2QzzP0BXopyraMatykK98X278X_-n_-uHs7lremBNIktpQqy/s1600/IMG_2745-300-72.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6ECWSVHefG3og8iL3-U67gWMMNAHYDQQaRh8DXiQplI-pinxeZ4Go-CryGThhF5HzoehlbeKf9-4OlZb-VcOksqmxJJ8V2QzzP0BXopyraMatykK98X278X_-n_-uHs7lremBNIktpQqy/s400/IMG_2745-300-72.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5523815987647944674" border="0" /></a>Location. Location. Location. Until visiting Skagway, I was unaware of the <a href="http://www.nps.gov/klgo/historyculture/dyea.htm">Dyea Townsite</a>, about 10 miles north of Skagway, where in 1898 the population rose to an estimated 8,000 people when it was the principal port city of the stampeders bound for the Klondike gold fields via the Chilkoot Pass. The town’s poor harbor, devastating snow slide in April 1898, and newly built White Pass and Yukon Route Railroad out of Skagway all contributed to the end of Dyea. The only structure left “standing” is the A.M. Gregg Real Estate Office on what was then Main Street. At the peak of the last glaciation, the land was covered by a glacier nearly a mile thick. I found it astonishing that due to the removal of the weight of the glacier over the last 10,000 years, the land is 7 feet higher today than it was in 1898.Brad Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12103241880488145120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293385435101417835.post-82924515235260408642010-10-02T14:29:00.000-07:002010-10-02T14:31:50.702-07:00Skagway, Alaska<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfvyU1jOn0Bici5qbcIZVQHrUUHcZmiXnVsbTUcHn4TCVcbn3w9sckNvaj_noLOOy0Y3r0P7_BGHADR3_9Rwe_oPKA4msofyGZWjbz0-xjdS-_6suaqHj9_Zvi9CXs5x-3LpJCP4_9lggP/s1600/IMG_2739-72.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfvyU1jOn0Bici5qbcIZVQHrUUHcZmiXnVsbTUcHn4TCVcbn3w9sckNvaj_noLOOy0Y3r0P7_BGHADR3_9Rwe_oPKA4msofyGZWjbz0-xjdS-_6suaqHj9_Zvi9CXs5x-3LpJCP4_9lggP/s400/IMG_2739-72.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5523564205263772178" border="0" /></a>Skagway is a tourist town. The Klondike Highway to Skagway was filled with tourist buses. As many as six huge cruise ships can be in port at the same time. Stores selling merchandise to tourists line both sides of Broadway, Skagway’s main street. Lots of jewelry stores with double doors open to the cold outside and salespeople behind display cases inside. I was told in a bar frequented by local Alaskans that the cruise ship lines own the jewelry stores and have a reputation for not hiring locally. While I was there, not many of the tourists had gotten to the east end of 7th Street where the early history of the area was wonderfully preserved and presented at the Skagway Museum and City Hall. Haines, only a 15 mile ferry ride from Skagway, was a very different experience. With only one cruise ship a week docked there for 24 hours, it didn’t feel at all like a tourist town, although of course to some degree, like almost every town in Alaska, it is.Brad Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12103241880488145120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293385435101417835.post-80398361355332644672010-10-02T14:23:00.000-07:002010-10-02T14:28:16.828-07:00Ferry from Skagway to Haines<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtOck5ctbf8AtKtI_Z99ZCzQ6TerhWnMc_EspNk_oC7168iYCfdl9s_j7UA4aobbZrIFUNW7iJd638q7ZMceZ_jZSWP_Kc4AnhPwClLQc-d4dCEVofM-3fsPNmZDOo4-1X6sNsA_aYt2PA/s1600/IMG_2749-52-72.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 173px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtOck5ctbf8AtKtI_Z99ZCzQ6TerhWnMc_EspNk_oC7168iYCfdl9s_j7UA4aobbZrIFUNW7iJd638q7ZMceZ_jZSWP_Kc4AnhPwClLQc-d4dCEVofM-3fsPNmZDOo4-1X6sNsA_aYt2PA/s400/IMG_2749-52-72.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5523562691498254626" border="0" /></a>On board the ferry Matanuska going from Skagway to Haines, Alaska. Travelers are allowed to use duct-tape to secure their tents to the deck, although strong winds made this a bit of a challenge. Ferry travel to communities along the Alaska Marine Highway (or Inside Passage) runs from Bellingham, Washington to Unalaska/Dutch Harbor in the Aleutian Islands.Brad Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12103241880488145120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293385435101417835.post-15446049193229217402010-10-02T13:44:00.000-07:002010-10-02T13:47:09.086-07:00S.S. Klondike, Whitehorse, Yukon<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhom3Vk5dU1upTwrX4bINJH29R8DtKR-YsbdDWmqARGpuR2Rrti4lJTyJ5piAxzD1nZdgbLQtZZhiDKLlJ1jZJDOoaUa2nzpiOMdkiyxPoio5BfnvsiS9JyGs__vte8SlQP3RPqCQWGpq-8/s1600/IMG_2715-16-96.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhom3Vk5dU1upTwrX4bINJH29R8DtKR-YsbdDWmqARGpuR2Rrti4lJTyJ5piAxzD1nZdgbLQtZZhiDKLlJ1jZJDOoaUa2nzpiOMdkiyxPoio5BfnvsiS9JyGs__vte8SlQP3RPqCQWGpq-8/s400/IMG_2715-16-96.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5523552590757052994" border="0" /></a>On my way to Alaska, I stopped in Whitehorse, Yukon via the Alaska Highway and again coming back from Dawson City via the Klondike Highway. During the Klondike Gold Rush in the late 19th century, most prospectors, or stampeders as they were called, landed at Skagway and Dyea on the coast and traveled the difficult White or Chikoot Pass Trails to Whitehorse, where they built rafts and boats to take them the more than 500 miles down the Yukon River to gold fields around Dawson Creek. The S.S. Klondike wasn’t launched until 1937. It took about 1½ days to get to Dawson City and 4 to 5 days to return to Whitehorse. Before traveling to Alaska, I had no idea the Yukon River at Whitehorse is less than 100 miles from the Pacific Ocean, but empties into the Bering Sea in Western Alaska after running for nearly 2,000 miles.Brad Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12103241880488145120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293385435101417835.post-46649451223232725522010-10-02T13:39:00.000-07:002010-10-02T14:21:49.622-07:00Change in perspective<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj09dLzpm80B2TuNvpPoyoNev3joEPaICH4GoLXK32PoOcnO309-RL-qwec7Hd6m3hxahuF7Jk76R4QACp2c8P8qRQHzN49Si0CAZb67bf5RD3MKJt2x8ithKRT5SO67ZmzrnW67jq6s-id/s1600/_MG_9228-96.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj09dLzpm80B2TuNvpPoyoNev3joEPaICH4GoLXK32PoOcnO309-RL-qwec7Hd6m3hxahuF7Jk76R4QACp2c8P8qRQHzN49Si0CAZb67bf5RD3MKJt2x8ithKRT5SO67ZmzrnW67jq6s-id/s400/_MG_9228-96.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5523551316731939474" border="0" /></a>It’s fun for me to sometimes change my perspective from grand vistas to small creatures. One way I do this is by putting a macro lens on my Canon 20D; attaching a SmartFlash RF46 Digital Macro Ring Flash to the macro lens; and taking photographs of insects and spiders. The camera and flash are synced to permit shooting at 1/250th of a second at f/16. These settings will usually stop the movement of the bug and the inevitable movement of the plant the bug is sitting on. Shooting at f/16 provides a little depth of field, which is in short supply when shooting with a macro lens. I focus manually having found that on automatic the lens, almost malevolently, will put into focus something other than what I want to be in focus. Shooting with flash at 1/250th of a second and at f/16 will often leave the background dark, which is usually, but not always a good thing.Brad Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12103241880488145120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293385435101417835.post-53608700298055088822010-10-02T13:35:00.000-07:002010-10-02T13:38:26.453-07:00Chugach Mountains<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcp-iaEtVxDATcYihoCFMpmRCC0X0LlLamvl5dsBZEFTSLZq6XgLXh261SU3s5WRo_ecrg-9Y7Flu2SYB5z6xHrpMdRO4vwKQ_DDlH9mJxc3n1GAj-BGV-wMZRtnbYCn76PbjN3l-WK8z8/s1600/Valdez%5B1%5D-72.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 167px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcp-iaEtVxDATcYihoCFMpmRCC0X0LlLamvl5dsBZEFTSLZq6XgLXh261SU3s5WRo_ecrg-9Y7Flu2SYB5z6xHrpMdRO4vwKQ_DDlH9mJxc3n1GAj-BGV-wMZRtnbYCn76PbjN3l-WK8z8/s400/Valdez%5B1%5D-72.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5523550183075667714" border="0" /></a>This photograph of the Chugach Mountains was taken on the Valdez dock shortly before boarding the ferry to Whittier on the Kenai Peninsula. While in Valdez, I visited the Maxine & Jesse Whitney Museum at the Prince William Sound Community College, a private collection of Alaskan Native art and artifacts. The pieces were collected while traveling to Alaskan villages to purchase crafts for sale in Maxine’s gift shop. What makes this one of the most interesting museums I have ever been to is the narrative that accompanies the collection. Without patronizing the Alaskan Natives who produced the craft or the customers who purchased it, the collection examines, mostly through a series of questions, the line between fine art and craft art; art done for art’s sake and art done for money; and other similar issues. Very thought provoking exhibit.Brad Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12103241880488145120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293385435101417835.post-29690209070067798252010-10-02T13:30:00.000-07:002010-10-02T13:33:31.359-07:00Glacier Highways<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLpV47wrsCXcLk1mukeYsX_oA9zZwoxSIhDsZw6gRjOxA0ox4mtOqoyE-0QEo88uTOlUBztdWocG6pnnE57OdTT6AbT0hkGxVc3Om027VdQURNhJEKF4NHQKEXanGtsNzuyWDA6R6P4kfK/s1600/IMG_2700-72.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLpV47wrsCXcLk1mukeYsX_oA9zZwoxSIhDsZw6gRjOxA0ox4mtOqoyE-0QEo88uTOlUBztdWocG6pnnE57OdTT6AbT0hkGxVc3Om027VdQURNhJEKF4NHQKEXanGtsNzuyWDA6R6P4kfK/s400/IMG_2700-72.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5523548958980734130" border="0" /></a>As a docent with Berkeley’s Shorebird Park Nature Center, I’ve told visitors that not all that long ago it was possible to walk to the Farallon Islands, 27 miles to the west of the Golden Gate. This is because 18,000 or so years ago (a blink of the eye in geological time) the ocean level is estimated to have been nearly 400 feet lower than it is today. It is thought the lower ocean level permitted humans to travel across the Bering Land Bridge from Asia and begin to populate North America, but there’s no evidence of humans in the Bay Area until about 5,500 years ago. I knew the oceans had been lower in the past because it was colder and the water was locked in glaciers, but until traveling along hundreds of miles of roads located in the beautiful valleys and surrounding mountains carved by the glaciers, I hadn’t appreciated (and probably still don’t) just how massive and powerful the glaciers were. The trip this summer has given me a new perspective on global warming. The photograph was taken headed north on Highway 97 near Prince George in British Columbia. Beginning in the town of Weed in northern California, I traveled the length of Highway 97 to the border of the Yukon Territory when the road becomes Highway 1.Brad Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12103241880488145120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293385435101417835.post-19744520587118141042010-10-02T13:26:00.000-07:002010-10-02T13:29:11.482-07:00Trans-Alaska Pipeline System<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivFhMyUs6QI_WxXl06mj9Bc7EA0vW_3utpzyCUzKWLkowPq6nSKr_zrh_fpNYH1XrCbsZqq06oIhESSBRQJvrz7T5sxqGVl5-c7g6Ly_WBO4oc4_LZVMnSLQoBI2UbD5Apvn-HPSuI8fDk/s1600/9813.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivFhMyUs6QI_WxXl06mj9Bc7EA0vW_3utpzyCUzKWLkowPq6nSKr_zrh_fpNYH1XrCbsZqq06oIhESSBRQJvrz7T5sxqGVl5-c7g6Ly_WBO4oc4_LZVMnSLQoBI2UbD5Apvn-HPSuI8fDk/s400/9813.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5523548028300908818" border="0" /></a>Dianne took this photograph on our way to the Arctic Circle. The Trans-Alaska Pipeline System (referred to as “the Pipeline” in Alaska) conveys crude oil in a 48” pipeline over a distance of 800 miles from Prudhoe Bay in northern Alaska to Valdez in the Gulf of Alaska. We learned from museum exhibits and in conversation with Alaskans that the amount of crude oil flowing through the Pipeline today is about one-third of its high of 2,000,000 barrels a day in 1988. If we had traveled another 275 miles north of the Arctic Circle on this road we would have reached Deadhorse and Prudhoe Bay on the Beaufort Sea.Brad Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12103241880488145120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293385435101417835.post-50222262043992920392010-10-02T13:19:00.000-07:002010-10-02T13:25:36.674-07:00Museum of the North, Fairbanks<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqv9MAcDYfbGKo3G0FTbCgw8pMgjCOcC2blGGaVokfFTcbtnsvQTE6k5vUn3mNKY0Se8sZyONTzAOhHyqMOt-w7Onj0ZG_cIhsWsqdJLPCnnstN-qnCgN0y2ZlH_aedCCotxfLwhIhEsBW/s1600/9791DianneWoods.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 274px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqv9MAcDYfbGKo3G0FTbCgw8pMgjCOcC2blGGaVokfFTcbtnsvQTE6k5vUn3mNKY0Se8sZyONTzAOhHyqMOt-w7Onj0ZG_cIhsWsqdJLPCnnstN-qnCgN0y2ZlH_aedCCotxfLwhIhEsBW/s400/9791DianneWoods.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5523546393535065602" border="0" /></a>The Anchorage Museum of History and Art and the University of Alaska Museum of the North in Fairbanks are both outstanding facilities with many wonderful and informative exhibits. The Alaska Museum of the North is one of the most beautiful and original buildings we have ever seen. Dianne contacted Joan Soranno of HGA Architects and Engineers in Minneapolis, the architect of the building, to tell her how much we enjoyed seeing the building and to ask her if she would like a print of this photograph. Joan told Dianne that she was thrilled to have a copy of her photograph for her portfolio.Brad Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12103241880488145120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293385435101417835.post-27368547109495680212010-10-02T13:16:00.000-07:002010-10-02T13:18:56.985-07:00Arctic Circle<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmh4f8aumJTzPNXfivQhegsmT9BhjyXz4We7cxxt7E630aVJ9_njLnWTS7WkMsb3ZfjZ4nWqL3ZnvEI7k7Ua1kDvWtR7ddmnb4Ee9y6or5cDCwIwfmdDlPmZRryV2_c7M-zfKjAdF6cJAp/s1600/9836.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmh4f8aumJTzPNXfivQhegsmT9BhjyXz4We7cxxt7E630aVJ9_njLnWTS7WkMsb3ZfjZ4nWqL3ZnvEI7k7Ua1kDvWtR7ddmnb4Ee9y6or5cDCwIwfmdDlPmZRryV2_c7M-zfKjAdF6cJAp/s400/9836.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5523545468272862498" border="0" /></a>Dianne flew into Anchorage to join me for a while on the road and together we drove as far north as the Arctic Circle above Fairbanks. While in Fairbanks, we asked a local what we would find at the Arctic Circle. She told us we would find a sign there. Seeking additional information, we told her we were from California and were thinking about driving there so as to have bragging rights. She then replied, “Well, it’s a really nice sign.”Brad Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12103241880488145120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293385435101417835.post-41598436624921377462010-10-02T12:44:00.000-07:002010-10-02T12:48:39.744-07:00Tok, Alaska<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0XUvjTIUyGcDZn6so5fcAUYXmVsOtb1NRdTlkafgbbOQbzU5c3Xc1HcMJQv3CPZU90bJUr-Sgmz3MFwyD1i1cFgCJyenI4nfkFEOBVmvkW0Rbm5vphE5fvnMaT5HT_n2gmA7PcBpIg_Fz/s1600/_MG_9436-96.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0XUvjTIUyGcDZn6so5fcAUYXmVsOtb1NRdTlkafgbbOQbzU5c3Xc1HcMJQv3CPZU90bJUr-Sgmz3MFwyD1i1cFgCJyenI4nfkFEOBVmvkW0Rbm5vphE5fvnMaT5HT_n2gmA7PcBpIg_Fz/s400/_MG_9436-96.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5523537242714602146" border="0" /></a>You pretty much have to go through the town of Tok (rhymes with poke; population 1,500) if you’re driving to Alaska. As you can see in this photograph of the 4th of July parade, Tok is 93 miles northwest of the U.S./Canadian border on the Alaska Highway. You can also get to Tok by driving northwest on the Klondike Highway from Whitehorse to Dawson City (both in the Yukon), take the ferry over the Yukon River, drive over the Top of the World Highway to the northern most U.S. Border crossing, and then south to Tok. Both entering and leaving Alaska I stayed at the Sourdough Campground and Café, home of the Sourdough Pancake Toss. I didn’t win a free breakfast, but I’ll try again the next time I travel to Alaska.Brad Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12103241880488145120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293385435101417835.post-53152821138787247832010-10-02T12:40:00.000-07:002010-10-02T12:43:55.956-07:00Chilkott Lake<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQZSJeO52-8HbUJwmd1a9G_FFglVxwLSsP9zDJ-uEwdSZglFbc5GHTU_-i1IeEjOKK_lRZ1Yuo-xx9e-Ll-skNteKefVY4OrwG71VZJnhJE0IVD9SeAI5c5M0L7twhkDAk32dySzGsVOxR/s1600/9429%5B1%5D-72.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 217px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQZSJeO52-8HbUJwmd1a9G_FFglVxwLSsP9zDJ-uEwdSZglFbc5GHTU_-i1IeEjOKK_lRZ1Yuo-xx9e-Ll-skNteKefVY4OrwG71VZJnhJE0IVD9SeAI5c5M0L7twhkDAk32dySzGsVOxR/s400/9429%5B1%5D-72.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5523536190269978386" border="0" /></a>Chilkott Lake is about 10 miles northeast of Haines, Alaska along the coast of the Alaskan Panhandle. I got to Haines by taking the ferry from Skagway, Alaska. The photograph was taken near the outlet to the Chilkoot River, said to be some of the best salmon fishing in southeast Alaska, which, as several warning signs along the way made clear, brings bears to the area. I didn’t see any bears while I was there, but did encounter quite a few mosquitoes.Brad Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12103241880488145120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293385435101417835.post-12372028899081379012010-10-02T11:52:00.001-07:002010-10-02T12:02:51.951-07:00Sign Post Forest<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeycDgo4lOyzEzDJdYdELfHoJn6dMBcKdwvbfnpVwBqNXWWpsOcRz9NRNVo8nbeN3xMDfDtEgL7_H5VVA3Z1pWktgtblBoIkuBYYWo1FTUC9IGCN7B2W8V1EJTmTT8_BQOmjEBu3l5OWqR/s1600/IMG_2703-04-96.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 157px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeycDgo4lOyzEzDJdYdELfHoJn6dMBcKdwvbfnpVwBqNXWWpsOcRz9NRNVo8nbeN3xMDfDtEgL7_H5VVA3Z1pWktgtblBoIkuBYYWo1FTUC9IGCN7B2W8V1EJTmTT8_BQOmjEBu3l5OWqR/s400/IMG_2703-04-96.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5523523887400637090" border="0" /></a>Until I got to the town of Watson Lake (population 1,500) in the Yukon Territory, just over the border with British Columbia, I was unaware of its "Sign Post Forest" with over 65,000 (!) signs. It was begun in 1942 by an Army soldier working on the construction of the Alaska Highway. Visitors are encouraged to add a sign -- most of them appeared to have been liberated from their original location -- to the Sign Post Forest.Brad Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12103241880488145120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293385435101417835.post-24334227991172340952010-10-02T11:38:00.000-07:002010-10-02T12:06:36.273-07:00Salmon Glacier<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhok4oz8ulNoDbhcwL9TQ5NGo14PPAc2mqlRumufPMSReAFs0BFeKZ9IcV7rePIYAlar3ScHJAcpsS3-dSAqDdfHpC7aAsBehDncExz19fXwWQ38FAqVPEDFOj-ugZk3xl-76qlP7Vm8FKH/s1600/_MG_9939-01-96.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 82px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhok4oz8ulNoDbhcwL9TQ5NGo14PPAc2mqlRumufPMSReAFs0BFeKZ9IcV7rePIYAlar3ScHJAcpsS3-dSAqDdfHpC7aAsBehDncExz19fXwWQ38FAqVPEDFOj-ugZk3xl-76qlP7Vm8FKH/s400/_MG_9939-01-96.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5523520815342073682" border="0" /></a><br />Now that I’m back from my travels to and from Alaska this summer, I’ll begin to post a few of the photographs I took along the way. I’ll add a few more as time permits. Salmon Glacier is in British Columbia, just to the east of the southern end of the Alaskan panhandle. It’s a good illustration of the pleasure I get from the I-wonder-what’s-up-that-road kind of traveling I like to do. Returning to Berkeley from Alaska along Highway 37 in British Columbia, I noticed on the AAA map Highway 37A headed west to the town on Stewart in British Columbia (not Steward on the Kenai Peninsula in Alaska) and nearby the town of Hyder, just across the border in Alaska. On the map, the town of Hyder looked like the southern most town in Alaska you could drive to from the continent. (There are several other towns, e.g., Ketchikan, further south in Alaska, but you need a ferry, other boat or airplane to get to them.) A conversation with the owner of the campground where I stayed in Stewart revealed the presence of the Salmon Glacier Road, a narrow, gravel road that would take me to the overlook from which I took this photograph (actually several photographs stitched together in Photoshop). Salmon Glacier Road doesn’t appear on the AAA map, which makes it even more fun to “discover.” (I would have known about the Road if I had been reading more closely the indispensable MILEPOST guidebook.) About 13 miles north of Hyder, the road crosses back into British Columbia without Canadian customs. Another visitor at the summit viewpoint informed me she and her husband were there the day before and that they could barely see the rocks immediately in front of them. Salmon Glacier is reported to be the largest glacier in the world accessible by road. It was spectacular.Brad Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12103241880488145120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293385435101417835.post-14343137413095806302008-07-18T05:05:00.000-07:002008-12-12T04:21:28.430-08:00This Blog ThingI enjoy driving, taking photographs, exploring, hiking, and talking with people. These activities and the normal housekeeping associated with traveling leave me little time or inclination to blog. And it takes time and is not always easy to get access to the Internet. I would also like to write something of interest, if at all possible, which for me requires some thought. I know: excuses, excuses, excuses...<br /><br />I have had a number of conversations with people with a wide range of opinions, some I agree with and more I disagree with. As was my plan, unless asked (not often), I have kept my views to myself. I really haven’t learned anything I didn’t think I already thought I knew, but listening to the vehemence with which some people have expressed their dislike of Obama is pretty different from anything I have heard in Berkeley. So far there haven’t been many specifics. The usual feeling is that Obama lacks substance in his call for change. I have suspicions that some of the strong feelings have a component of racism, but not once has this come up explicitly and I could easily be wrong in my suspicions. I have not yet spoken with anyone who is enthusiactic about McCain.<br /><br />As much as a memory aid for myself as anything else, I set out below where I have spent each night since I left and for some dates a brief comment or two. When I get back, I might expand some of these notes and add some photos. Using Point A to Point B logic, it’s usually pretty easy to determine my route.<br /><br />Monday, July 7, 2008 – Cliff Marchetti’s new home near Tuolumne, California<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSC-vyvoxfI590KJtqRGz_NZLW5WeJrQ-P-3X2b9viUx6R0tHNEojA3qIsVsvF7Fn3vldL9NxqIal-y8amGGeArnHVRuJ-7YX8xsS_PHJ1yQPmSAAuh3AoZCYVcYT1kx5vD5bQcHaCv3yv/s1600-h/_MG_5693-72.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224328798887805122" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSC-vyvoxfI590KJtqRGz_NZLW5WeJrQ-P-3X2b9viUx6R0tHNEojA3qIsVsvF7Fn3vldL9NxqIal-y8amGGeArnHVRuJ-7YX8xsS_PHJ1yQPmSAAuh3AoZCYVcYT1kx5vD5bQcHaCv3yv/s320/_MG_5693-72.jpg" border="0" /></a> Cliff retired as Berkeley Waterfront Manager about the same time that I retired as Legislative Aide for Berkeley Councilmember Linda Maio and as her appointee to the Berkeley Waterfront Commission. Cliff and I had become friends over the years and occasionally compared notes about how we would spend our retirement years. Each of us is following our plan: Cliff by building a retirement home near Tuolumne, California and me by traveling, sometimes on a road trip as I am now and other times by traveling to different locations to stay for a while. Building or moving to a retirement home makes sense to me, but I also want to move around and see different places. I enjoy all the freedom I have to pretty much do as I please around the house – there is, of course, the honey-do list – but I also can feel myself drifting into a routine that borders on boredom. I don’t want too much stimulation, but neither do I want to be bored. I notice on the road there are more unpredictable events like finding a place to spend the night when the campgrounds are full or making minor repairs on the Class B, which makes me feel more alive that working on the many enjoyable projects I do at home. I also find stimulating to talk with people who hold a greater variety of ideas about what’s real and correct than I do in Berkeley. Cliff and I plan to compare notes on our retirement strategies in the coming years. I’m looking forward to those conversations.<br /><br />Tuesday, July 8, 2008 – Fort Churchhill State Historic Park, Nevada<br />Wednesday, July 9, 2008 -- Elk Flat Campground, Cave Lake Recreation Area, Nevada<br />Thursday, July 10, 2008 – Wheeler Peak Campground, Great Basin National Park, Nevada<br />Friday, July 11, 2008 – Lower Lehman Creek, Great Basin National Park, Nevada<br />Saturday, July 12, 2008 – Lodgepole Campground, along Hway 40, Utah<br />Sunday, July 13, 2008 – Red Canyon Campground, Flaming Gorge National Recreation Area, Utah<br />Monday, July 14, 2008 – Dinosaur National Monument Campground, Utah<br />Tuesday, July 15, 2008 – Ranger Lakes Campground, State Forest State Park, Colorado<br />Wednesday, July 16, 2008 -- Ranger Lakes Campground, State Forest State Park, Colorado<br />Thursday, July 17, 2008 – Fort Collins Lakeside KOA Campground, ColoradoBrad Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12103241880488145120noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293385435101417835.post-59799924371898123692007-12-18T16:00:00.000-08:002008-12-12T04:21:28.617-08:00Farting Around<em>I tell you, we are here on earth to fart around, and don't let anyone tell you different.</em><br />-- Kurt Vonnegut, <em>A Man Without a Country</em> (2005)<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjua4YmeQ5S3fBBjv6ZtA2iNnR-UD821BenOsDwLTPu1rXdlxWpSoCtp5NtYMK0nCJTTKvpaDrDCQ5u-QbIqdQiErTXN_Gvl7vUlkto6KNqGQYMAp939PfDLJ08EFQftWzSXwCSf9jVNJP7/s1600-h/_MG_1152-72.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145468258660775538" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjua4YmeQ5S3fBBjv6ZtA2iNnR-UD821BenOsDwLTPu1rXdlxWpSoCtp5NtYMK0nCJTTKvpaDrDCQ5u-QbIqdQiErTXN_Gvl7vUlkto6KNqGQYMAp939PfDLJ08EFQftWzSXwCSf9jVNJP7/s320/_MG_1152-72.jpg" border="0" /></a>After a late start to Santa Barbara to avoid commute traffic, I pulled off Highway 101 at Laurel Drive (Exit 330) in <a id="iazn" title="Website for the City of Salinas" href="http://www.salinas.com/" target="_blank" goog_docs_charindex="285">Salinas</a> for lunch. Turning right and continuing straight ahead for half a mile on Calle del Adobe, I drove unexpectedly into a park containing the <a id="paps" title="History of the Boronda Adobe" href="http://www.mchsmuseum.com/borondaadobe.html" target="_blank" goog_docs_charindex="435">Boronda Adobe</a>, an adobe building built between 1844 and 1848 and maintained by the <a id="ujns" title="Website for the Monterey County Historical Society" href="http://www.mchsmuseum.com/index.html" target="_blank" goog_docs_charindex="520">Monterey County Historical Society</a>. I had never heard of the Boronda Adobe. I had simply pulled off the highway and was taking a quick look around for any city park where I could eat my lunch and perhaps strike up a conversation with a local. I was delighted to discover quite by accident a piece of California history I hadn't known about. This is for me one of the great joys of being able to fart around, stopping as inclination, rather than plan, dictates. For most of my life I have had to fart around within the context of a job. This is much better. It's so much fun for me to drift from one thing to another while traveling in the Class B. This is not to suggest that I don't plan for my trips; I do, but that I can change direction within the plan on a whim.<br /><br />Also located at the park were recently dedicated memorials to the 105 men of <a id="dd3m" title="Company C 194th Tank Battalion" href="http://www.militarymuseum.org/Bataan.html" goog_docs_charindex="1377">Company C 194th Tank Battalion</a> from the <a id="vm.z" title="Wikipedia Entry for the Salinas Valley" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Salinas_Valley" target="_blank" goog_docs_charindex="1419">Salinas</a> and <a id="l6_m" title="Website for the Pajaro Valley Historical Society" href="http://www.pajarovalleyhistory.org/" target="_blank" goog_docs_charindex="1433">Pajaro</a> Valleys. Of the 105 men, six were lost in combat and 52 died during the infamous <a id="h9x_" title="Wikipedia entry for the Bataan Death March" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bataan_Death_March" goog_docs_charindex="1524">Bataan Death March</a>, in the holds of ships while being transported to Japan and China, and in prison and labor camps. Only 47 of the original 105 men returned to the United States. I liked reading about these events on the Internet as a result of my visit to Boronda Adobe History Center and thinking about the changes that have taken place in the Salinas and and Pajaro Valleys over the nearly 100 years between the building of the Boronda Adobe and the Bataan Death March. I also note that I was alive during World War II (having been born just six days after the men of Company C 194th Tank Battalion "On the morning of February 18, 1941...marched four abrest down Main Street...toward the train station" and that my sense of history changes as my life span seems to include more of it.Brad Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12103241880488145120noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293385435101417835.post-78811005773980967762007-12-14T12:19:00.000-08:002008-12-12T04:21:28.779-08:00Best laid plans...My original plan was to post to <em>The Class B & Me</em> while on the road. This plan hasn’t worked out very well for a couple of reasons. First, while traveling in the Class B for the last couple of weeks, except for the library in Borrego Springs, I’ve had no WiFi access to the Internet. Second, there were usually more interesting things to do than type a blog entry. (I suspect the reader will often have more interesting things to do than to read blog entries.) Among the pleasures of being on the road are seeing and photographing new sights, hiking, seeing cultural and natural history exhibits and geography, visiting with family and friends (fortunately, in all cases, family are also friends), and making new acquaintances along the way. This leaves little time for blogging. So, at least for now, <em>The Class B & Me</em> will be a look back rather than a contemporary report. I would prefer that entries were more current and will think about ways of moving in that direction.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrCGuUpz_bPGrD3Yfe8nl7YMexWZF3lP3eTJ-dnLJokhdvAjIlgJ7aXlmn_AXjW8YwTrFPGnaQ-TWWTKjgcgOtQAJlveL7Ev73geVkcEDpxQkvjLez78L6bWp3krCJFy7cidF8K4e3GIK4/s1600-h/RickBradByron+5-71-300.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143926545790137570" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrCGuUpz_bPGrD3Yfe8nl7YMexWZF3lP3eTJ-dnLJokhdvAjIlgJ7aXlmn_AXjW8YwTrFPGnaQ-TWWTKjgcgOtQAJlveL7Ev73geVkcEDpxQkvjLez78L6bWp3krCJFy7cidF8K4e3GIK4/s320/RickBradByron+5-71-300.jpg" border="0" /></a>Rick, Brad and Byron, from the looks of Rick's clean T-shirt, at the beginning of one of our backpacking trips into Los Padres National Forest in May 1971.<br /><br />As planned, the trip began on Monday, November 26 with a drive down Highway 101 to Santa Barbara to hook up for dinner with a couple of my grad school buddies from UC Santa Barbara, Rick and Byron.<br /><br />It would seem that most unintended consequences of a chosen course of action are adverse. You do your best to anticipate the principal consequences of a decision and too often there are unanticipated costs you wish you had thought of prior to taking the action. Other times you realize there is just no way you could have anticipated the consequences of an action, yours or someone else’s. The trip down Highway 101 to Santa Barbara revealed an unintended consequence that was positive. The handling characteristics of the Class B had improved dramatically since the last trip to Chaco Canyon. This is likely the result of a repair to a loose metal shield next to the propane tank (there to take the hit rather than the propane tank). Previously I had determined (incorrectly) that a rattle was being caused by the front bumper rubbing against the van body. I had it fixed at a local body shop, but the rattle persisted. While eating lunch somewhere along Highway 395 during the Chaco Canyon trip, I heard the wind cause the rattle and was able to determine that it was the loose propane tank shield that was making the noise. My guess is that the shield, moving back and forth with the wind, was acted like a rudder. Changes in its position were requiring corresponding adjustments in the steering wheel. The steering of the Class B is now much, much easier than it was before. And, the annoying rattle is also gone.<br /><br />More about the Anza-Borrego trip in the next entry.Brad Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12103241880488145120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293385435101417835.post-17565184078246682802007-11-24T11:08:00.000-08:002008-12-12T04:21:29.208-08:00What is a Class B?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1V0yB49-uUqLHZCrI5SmpOYLLLSjX9X0UOaRCDsWsxNCr8T5vuuT3EA0OHn0vRZWgJPMK_n_YkehNmMPb5qIkowOwkqnt0b0LT1tlY5XSMjHmL7a4cbftk8WBo5gdh-8Ay8nZbOzqHMwf/s1600-h/IMG_0101-72.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5136581869261243730" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1V0yB49-uUqLHZCrI5SmpOYLLLSjX9X0UOaRCDsWsxNCr8T5vuuT3EA0OHn0vRZWgJPMK_n_YkehNmMPb5qIkowOwkqnt0b0LT1tlY5XSMjHmL7a4cbftk8WBo5gdh-8Ay8nZbOzqHMwf/s320/IMG_0101-72.jpg" border="0" /></a> A <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Campervan">Class B</a> RV (<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/RV">Recreational Vehicle</a>) is a customized 16 to 21 foot commercial van. It is smaller than either a Class A or Class C RV. Class A RVs are the largest (21 to 40 feet) built on custom frames and usually the most luxurious. Class C RVs, built on truck frames, are midway between the Class B and Class A in size (20 to 28 feet).<br /><br />Our Class B is a 19’ 1991 Coachmen on a Ford 250 Econoline van chassis. We purchased it two years ago for $9,500, a year and a half before I retired working as a Legislative Aide for Berkeley City Councilperson, <a href="http://www.ci.berkeley.ca.us/council1">Linda Maio</a>. I was hesitant to purchase the Class B in advance of my ability to use it with any frequency, but Dianne argued we should go for it because it was just the model we wanted and it would give us a chance to get acquainted with its operation before taking longer trips. (With tax and license, a new Class B would cost between $60,000 and $100,000.) Coachmen still makes RVs, but discontinued making the Class B model after 1999.<br /><br />We began by camping several times at nearby <a href="http://www.ebparks.org/parks/anthony_chabot">Anthony Chabot Campground</a>. The Class B met all of our expectations and what a jewel Anthony Chabot Campground is. Located in the Oakland hills, there are lots of wonderful hiking trails and some of the camp sites overlook Lake Chabot (see photo above). On one of our camping trips at Anthony Chabot Campground overlooking Lake Chabot, friends (Bruce & Ina, Bruce & Basha, and Dan and Rich) brought a wonderful meal we all enjoyed before they returned to their homes and we spent the rest of the weekend camping.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoFLi67Qk6EFCEOlWx39AOuatfrltF0eiBWIS0N_7vkp37i2VpwRfPST17zG9BF9HZu92PP869RVNQkMilno0RtmW-iP6zaOLR4G3XWmg5Py6v_7wKqdtKJX_c3VwIp0pyuXdaQWJ8x83U/s1600-h/Chabot++7-06-72.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5136582530686207330" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoFLi67Qk6EFCEOlWx39AOuatfrltF0eiBWIS0N_7vkp37i2VpwRfPST17zG9BF9HZu92PP869RVNQkMilno0RtmW-iP6zaOLR4G3XWmg5Py6v_7wKqdtKJX_c3VwIp0pyuXdaQWJ8x83U/s320/Chabot++7-06-72.jpg" border="0" /></a>Even though our Class B is self-contained and we can easily go for a weekend without hooking up to electricity, sewage and water, we decided to test the systems (and our ability to use them) by staying at one of the sites at Anthony Chabot Campground that include these amenities. The tests eventually led to replacing some of the water and drainage pipes that were leaking and causing an unpleasant musty smell, something that might be expected after 15 years of torque and bending on the road. Son Jason, his partner Jolene, and dog Monroe joined us for the weekend. We all had a great time.Brad Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12103241880488145120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293385435101417835.post-75400194950198583432007-11-23T09:21:00.000-08:002007-12-16T10:39:35.701-08:00ThanksgivingPreparations for the next trip in the Class B were put aside yesterday. As we have for the last several years, Dianne and I spent Thanksgiving at my ex-wife Karen’s home in Santa Rosa, California. This may seem a little odd to some reading this blog, but Karen and I have remained friends over the years; Karen and Dianne enjoy each other’s company; and it makes Thanksgiving so much less complicated for our children and grandchildren to enjoy the holiday together. And enjoy it we did. What a wonderful cast of characters: daughter Jennifer and her husband Jon and their two children Madeline, six, and Lucas, three; son Jason and his partner Jolene; Elizabeth (thought of as a sister by Jennifer and Jason) and her husband Mark; Jon’s mother Jeannette, who lives with Karen; Jeannette’s good friend Bronwyn; and Jeannette’s sister Sue and her husband Ramon; Jon’s father, Peter; and Dianne's and my good friend, Amanda. Jolene’s parents, Dane and Peggy, visiting from Montana, and Jolene’s sister Anassa spend several hours with us in the afternoon, but didn’t stay for dinner. They and Jolene were headed to their own family get together in a rented cabin. Jason was to join them today. Elizabeth and Mark had flown in from Virginia and Sue and Ramon had come from Atlanta. After dinner, Karen’s former roommate and good friend Pete came by to join the fun and have a piece of one of the four pies baked by Jennifer, with assistance from Madeline. Everyone contributed something to the terrific meal we shared together. Jeannette also wrote and read a wonderful poem that described each of us in the most positive terms.Brad Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12103241880488145120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293385435101417835.post-14546127309325211202007-11-22T10:40:00.000-08:002008-12-12T04:21:29.796-08:00Maps and business cards<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH_BGi8KLbWHBGUBx-UTZY4prPiIx5fqPIT2MaluQR9baA_gKbOD4HlwUhHXYrD53YSTh97rshzMzAr-iNrMct9rBzw35Yr8pIcmsttgrvYVabx3fvf9OiLGS6xav4eEQhTNiWoLbfcLyv/s1600-h/Maps+finalN1-300.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144628051388528226" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH_BGi8KLbWHBGUBx-UTZY4prPiIx5fqPIT2MaluQR9baA_gKbOD4HlwUhHXYrD53YSTh97rshzMzAr-iNrMct9rBzw35Yr8pIcmsttgrvYVabx3fvf9OiLGS6xav4eEQhTNiWoLbfcLyv/s200/Maps+finalN1-300.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />I spent a couple of enjoyable hours yesterday poring over maps of Southern California thinking about the route I would take after leaving Brother Bob and Stephanie’s house in Anaheim. My plan is to end up in the <a href="http://www.parks.ca.gov/?page_id=638">Anza-Borrego Desert State Park</a>. I’ve travelled through the Park before, but have never camped there. I plan to camp in the <a href="http://www.fs.fed.us/r5/cleveland/">Cleveland National Forest</a> on my way there and I am particularly looking forward to visiting Palomar Observatory, which I haven’t seen in a long time. There are many <a href="http://astro.nineplanets.org/bigeyes.html">larger telescopes</a> now, but when I was growing up and until 1993 the <a href="http://www.astro.caltech.edu/palomar/hale.html">200-inch Hale telescope</a> was the largest in the world. I love looking at maps and remembering or imagining what is to be found along the various routes as well as areas not even close to roads identified as “Other Roads”. It is noted for “Other Roads” on the AAA map that, “Many of the roads in remote areas of this map are suitable for only high-clearance and/or four-wheel drive vehicles. Road conditions vary, and many are impassable except in summer months. Inquire locally before travelling.” That sounds so inviting to me. It reminds of the places I’ve seen backpacking where there was no road at all. Whether on a highway or at a campground I’ve reached after a long backpacking trip, I have always been curious about what lies around the bend or just over the hill. My left knee bothers me enough now to keep me from any more backpacking.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEdX4d5bYcqlPqOklMQ1PsfUtaEMHORDhwcfo102ekrZ-xvLMnf-ZShdTsGT-P5DMqaGcsqIpY8zwL4yj1XbD5GUyQZ0LiMqoFaMFQd4qtLkFP_0TQHStKrsMvx-5s_9FTiFGNLfZi4m9H/s1600-h/Blog+card.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135739810858091794" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEdX4d5bYcqlPqOklMQ1PsfUtaEMHORDhwcfo102ekrZ-xvLMnf-ZShdTsGT-P5DMqaGcsqIpY8zwL4yj1XbD5GUyQZ0LiMqoFaMFQd4qtLkFP_0TQHStKrsMvx-5s_9FTiFGNLfZi4m9H/s320/Blog+card.jpg" border="0" /></a>Dianne was kind enough to design and run off “business cards” for me. As I travel, I sometimes get well enough acquainted with people I meet along the way that we exchange contact information. Up until now, I’ve written down my name and whatever contact information I wanted to disclose (usually my e-mail address) on a scrap of paper. Now that I’m retired, I am no longer associated with an organization, nor do I have the identity that comes with such an association. I wasn’t sure what identity beyond my name and how to get in touch with me should be included on the card, so I eventually decided my name alone would identify me. People who found themselves in possession of one of my “business cards” would have to fill in the details of who I am for themselves. I smile thinking of people finding the card after a couple of years and asking themselves, “Who in the hell is Brad Smith?”Brad Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12103241880488145120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293385435101417835.post-64312001405566363362007-11-21T08:55:00.000-08:002018-03-14T06:57:58.541-07:00Getting ready for the next tripOver the last year, several people have suggested that I begin a blog to document my (and sometimes Dianne's) travels in the Class B. I plan to leave next Monday for Southern California and figured now was as good as time as any to begin.<br />
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As lots of what's needed for a trip is already on board the Class B (nautical terms are often used by the RV traveler), the fantasy is to load up a few items and take off as the fancy strikes you. In practice, I have developed a list of items that requires several hours to locate and load. The list is divided into sectons: Clothing, Tools/Equipment, Safety, Provisions, Sleeping, Personal, Entertainment and Food/Beverages. Yesterday I had the propane tank filled ($17.50 for 5 gallons; it only took 4.5 gallons, but there's a 5 gallon minimum at the Hertz Equipment Rental where I purchased the propane) and filled the two gas tanks ($75.00 for 22.4 gallons). This is kind of boring, but with rising gas prices in the news of late I thought it was worth noting. It's exactly $75.00 (which filled both tanks) because that's apparently the limit on my American Express card for gas pumps. Both tanks had about a quarter of a tank of gas when I began filling them, which is usually when I fill them on the road. I'll drive on one tank until it gets to the 1/4 mark and then throw the switch to the other tank. If you don't think about the cost of gas, it's kind of fun watching the fuel gauge move from 1/4 filled to filled while you're driving. When the second tank gets to the 1/4 mark I keep my eyes open for a gas station.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTAzCd8mNAGwS0q8ywtA962MAbktO4YDVexP3g6LTz2ewsrw_NBzveC878whlf6BDt1DelRZw2gATTQ6piZQohfc4RiQVcjHBBXQYL9GYqCnOxRn9a453Jms4EXGsFPXC2Rso8HPRR8Fvh/s1600-h/_MG_9671.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135353886571709698" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTAzCd8mNAGwS0q8ywtA962MAbktO4YDVexP3g6LTz2ewsrw_NBzveC878whlf6BDt1DelRZw2gATTQ6piZQohfc4RiQVcjHBBXQYL9GYqCnOxRn9a453Jms4EXGsFPXC2Rso8HPRR8Fvh/s320/_MG_9671.jpg" style="cursor: hand; float: left; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px;" /></a>This first blog entry is a test and I see a button for photographs, which I imagine being of more interest than than anything I might write (a picture is worth...) so I'm going to give it a try with a photograph taken last month of Dianne, me (in the middle), and our good friend Allen Whitt next to the Class B at Chaco Canyon in New Mexico. Pretty straightforward getting the photo into the blog, but not easy getting it next to this paragraph. The software wanted to place it in the upper left hand corner of this post. Fortunately, there's an "Edit Html" tab and I know enough about HTML to move the code where I wanted it next to this paragraph. There's probably an easier way to do this, but I couldn't find it in the instructions. This is a learning experience for me. You can double click on the photo for a larger image. I will provide a few more photographs of the "Chaco Canyon Trip" in a future blog entry.Brad Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12103241880488145120noreply@blogger.com4