Resiliency

The ruthless bombing of Pearl Harbor in 1941 created such fear that overnight anyone in America of Japanese descent suddenly became the enemy: neighbors, schoolmates, and local business owners all became possible spies.

Darrin and I often talk about how resilient we have become during this journey due to the constant change of moving from place to place and basically living outdoors in all types of weather, all kinds of environments, at all elevations, and around all types of animals and people. Today, we were once again humbled when we visited the Minidoka Relocation Center just north of Twin Falls, Idaho.

In 1942, months after the bombing of Pearl Harbor, President Roosevelt signed Executive order 9066 which forced over 120,000 west coast persons of Japanese descent into ten prison camps, Minidoka Relocation Center was one of the ten.

Hastily built, Minidoka housed approximately 10,000 individuals of Japanese descent from Alaska, Bainbridge Island, Washington and the west coast of Oregon. Placed in a deserted corner of the Idaho high desert, the tar and green wood structures of the camp gave the incarcerated individuals very little protection from the bitter cold winters and blazing hot summers.

What stuck with Darrin and I as we walked around the remains of Minidoka was the resiliency of the people incarcerated there. The camp had very little privacy, the bare necessities of a civilized life and weather unlike anything they had experienced on the west coast, yet they built a life in the camp. They created activities to relieve the boredom, turned the high desert into farmland for fresh food, and turned the tar covered barrack cubicles into homes.

The historic site said the Japanese had a saying, “Shikata ga nai” which means “it can’t be helped”. I guess in modern slang it would be similar to “shit happens”, so make the best of it and carry on. Once again we have come across people who have more resiliency then I could ever imagine. Sometimes it is really a struggle not to pass judgements on the past. We weren’t there, we didn’t walk in their shoes, but what the hell. How can such awful things happen in a supposedly civilized world.

Guard towers and barberd wire surrounded the camp.
Tar paper that absorbed the hot sun, and green wood that shrank as it dried, provided very little privacy and protection from the elements.
Sage brush and scrub turned into productive farmland to provide themselves with fresh food.
A glimpse into the past that is easy to pass judgement on, except we weren’t there to understand the fear war induces into an otherwise civilized society.

A Man at Peace

We met Al & Anna last fall. Al has probably passed on by now, and we wanted to remember him.

When we stay in a campground, we like to take a walk around the park after dinner, we were doing so at a park last fall when we passed a site with an older couple. We looked over, they waved, we waved, so we stopped in to say hello. While we were chatting with Anna, I looked over and Al was doing the dishes. That’s what I wanted to remember, Al doing the dishes. I have never seen such a shear look of contentment and happiness, let alone on the fave of someone doing the dishes.

Al told me later that he was doing his bucket list. He wanted to go camping! They had a cheap Kmart tent, an air mattress, blankets, and a little fire for heat and cooking. He was loving it!

A few weeks earlier, Al had taken himself off of dialysis and he wanted to go camping before he got too sick. Anna was sad, but she was 100 percent supportive and put on a happy face as she was slowly losing her lifetime companion.

We talked a lot over the following days before they headed home to their very large extended family. Al is probably gone now, but we got to meet him when he was at peace. I probably will never do the dishes the same again; I can still see his happy face.

The Balinator

Traveling around the west, we noticed that the hay bales come in two sizes…extra large and small. Today, we had the chance to chat with a farmer when we stopped at a small coffee shop. We asked him why there were 2 sizes of hay bales. To our surprise, he told us they were the same hay bales. We were totally confused until he explained that they bale the hay in large bales but then put them through the Balinator to shrink them for winter storage. When it is time to use the hay during the winter months, they just reverse the process, and voila they have the full size bales and all that nice fresh hay for their stock.

Several large bales and one that has already been shrunk for winter storage.

If you believe this story, I have some ocean front property in Arizona I’d like to show you🤣.

Potato Time in Idaho!

We are in Glenns Ferry, Idaho in a tiny RV park. The heat has finally broken a bit from the 100’s down to the mid 80’s. WooHoo!!! After a month of wild camping we have showers, water, cell service, and wifi! We be living large!

And it is harvest time in Idaho. Trucks loaded high with potatoes, beets and onions are rolling by our park in a steady stream. We even have neighbors in our park, Ismael, his dad and their families, who travel up from Texas with their trucks to haul the spuds! Ismael’s truck is the Spudnik!

Ismael brought us a bag of fresh potatoes. We meet sooo many nice people…lucky us.

Sand Dune in Idaho?

Bruneau State Park in Idaho says it has the tallest single-structure sand dune in North America rising 470 feet above the surrounding dessert…we had to check it out.

Yup, that’s it…

Huh…not sure it was worth the 30 mile drive out of our way. But, we did enjoy the detour drive through the beautiful farm valley along the Snake River which we would have missed. It is funny how one thing leads you to another when you have no plan and a full tank of diesel.

Gorgeous mesas?
Miles of fields…grass, potatoes and beets.
The farm equipment out here is huge…we moved over and let him come on by.
The mighty Snake River…I am glad we didn’t have to caulk the Wee Rover and float it across like the people on the Oregon Trail.

Babysitting Burros

We have been official “Deputy Camp Hosts”
We have been unofficially and jokingly dubbed “C.I.s” (confidential informants)
Now we are “Donkey Babysitters!”

This area along the Idaho-Oregon border is the land of the pack train. Horses, mules, and donkeys are loaded up to head into the backcountry, just like in the old westerns. While camping below the Eagle Cap Wilderness we camped next to a couple of bow hunters heading in for the month long elk season. They were using donkeys to pack their gear into camp. They headed in, but returned the following day with a lame donkey. Over the next few days, we stopped by to chat with the guys and to check on the patient. We happily offered to watch the burros so they could head to town to track down a farrier. A few days later, the abscess in the hoof was healed and the donkey train was off.

Gimpy, Lips, Nougie, and BB were our charges for the day!

Poor Gimpy with a sore hoof.
Noughie gets a head scratch.
And he posed for a close up.
BB and Lips get in on the scratches.

All names have been changed to protect the innocent😎

Waiting out the Heat in Wallowa

10 miles south of Wallowa, Oregon is an 8 site free USFS campground on Bear Creek with trail access to the Eagle Cap Wilderness. It might be the jackpot of all spots. Quiet, a beautiful stream for dipping and cooking water, great trees to hang our hammocks, pack animals with hikers and hunters, and friendly neighbors and staff. What more could we ask for in a place to hide from the very hot summer heat.

Bear Creek: gushing, soothing, and refreshing.

I guess we looked like trouble

Elk for dinner! A mainstay of this region is elk. An elk in the freezer will easily feed a family for the winter. Tonight we got a taste courtesy of Kurt, a US Forest Service Law Enforcement Officer, who stopped by for a visit with fellow State Trooper, Mark, and returned later with a package of elk and some great conversation.

Before the handcuffs came out 😁

Best neighbors ever

Rhylee and 3 generations of her family camped down the way in the next site. Rhylee gave us the distinguished title of ‘Best Neighbors Ever’ when we returned one of the family dogs and told her we would love for her and her cousin, Taylor, to continue building their fort between our 2 sites (I guess the previous occupants hadn’t been kid or dog friendly). During our stay, Rhylee’s grandmother and aunts told us stories about their family’s journey west on the Oregon Trail to settle in Wallowa and the Nez Perce who once lived in this valley, Chief Joseph being the most well known for his continuing quest to protect his people and their homeland. One story told how their family sheltered a pregnant Nez Perce woman during the purge of the Nez Perce. The baby died during childbirth and was buried on Rhylee’s family land in a small unmarked grave.

Rhylee made us a cheat sheet so we would know who was who.
The small unmarked grave of the Nez Perce baby.

The friendly blonde

Yesterday, while having coffee after groceries, we had a card declined due to one of those computer hackers. We raced around trying to figure out how to get the new card sent out without an address. Enter Jay, proprietor of the Blonde Strawberry Coffee Shop in town. Jay not only served us delicious coffee and food, he let us use the Blonde Strawberry as our address for the card’s delivery.

If you are ever in Wallowa, stop in for good food and coffee, and really bad jokes.

The real deal

Every once in a while you meet people who really walk their talk, Dennis and Virginia were two such people. Staying at Bear creek while they scouted the wilderness for the upcoming elk hunt, we were lucky enough to spend time. Furniture maker, hunter, gatherer, flintlock handcrafter and caregivers…we were blessed to have met them.

Dennis and Virginia, good people we were lucky enough to spend time with.

While waiting out the heat in Wallowa, we think we had the ‘Best Neighbors Ever’! Thank you Kurt, Mark, Jay, Rhylee, Dennis, Virginia, and many others!

It is Always Something

A beautiful crystal clear stream
Great trees for lounging in the hammocks
A screaming baby
It is always something…

Warm dry weather
Kind and friendly neighbors
Logging trucks at 2 A.M,
It is always something…

A nice flat place to park the rig
A beautiful secluded spot to skinny dip
A terrible stench from the out house when the wind shifted
It is always something…

A beautiful spot on the North Fork of the John Day River!
Beautiful blue skies
A gorgeous view
The place to ourselves
And then the thunder storms rolled in
It is always something…

A beautiful canyon
A gorgeous river
Cool water to beat the 100 degree heat
And noisy neighbors

It is always something…🤣

What is it with Drunks and Hot Dogs? (Excuse the profanity)

On several separate occasions we have camped next to ‘gentlemen’ who have had a bit too much of the ‘good stuff’ and have boisterously stated for all to hear for hours on end that all they wanted was (and I quote, so excuse the profanity), “a God Damn Mother Fucking Hotdog!!”, after which they fell sound asleep and snored like freight trains coming a barreling down the tracks.

So, tell me…what is it with drunks and hotdogs?

At another campground, we camped near a family with a screaming baby. We pondered whether the baby was channeling the drunks and just wanted a hotdog.

I guess we will never know.

Sorry, no pictures for this one