Where is Jack, Day 71

I'll have to add pictures, later. This has been quite a day. I started off by upchucking more grass. When Nancy got that all cleaned up, I upchucked, again. Nancy said, "Between yesterday and today, you ate enough grass for a herd of cows!" I don't feel sick--I just love the taste of the grass out west.

We had quite a drive, today. We followed along Lake Tahoe for many miles--beautiful views for me, but Nancy couldn't take her eyes off the road--so many curves and steep grades. Then we got to Placerville CA and turned the wrong way, of course.  So we got a tour of the town--very pretty. We wish we could spend more time, here. We turned around and went the right way on 49, the road that bj told us to take. bj is an internet friend of Nancy's. She met her through the WAC group, and said if she ever made it to California she wanted to meet her. She has written such beautiful stories about her camping trips--we love the ones about the otters, especially. She's a wonderful writer--she makes paintings with her words. Can you believe how lucky she is? She camps 10 miles away from her home which is 3 miles away from where we're staying, tonight (that's the campground that wouldn't allow me). It's beautiful country, here. Nancy will take pictures, later, and I'll post them. The whitewater is incredible. Nancy has two leashes on me just in case the temptation becomes too much. She said I wouldn't stand a chance in the rapids.


When I came up to post my blog before bj arrived, the very nice girl, Shawn, who operates the campground, came out on the patio to talk to Nancy and to love and hug me. That's why not much could be posted before bj came. Nancy stopped to say good-bye to Shawn on the way out and she came out and gave me a big smooch and hugged Nancy.

Anyway, back to last night (I'm getting confused--realized I had two Day 71s). Bj came with her cute little granddaughter, Kiera. Nancy took a few pictures, then bj and Nancy gabbed for a while. Bj had all the fixings for delicious tacos (I know there's another name, but I have no idea how to spell it.) Had Nancy thought about it she would have suggested that bj let her take her out to dinner, but her mind was just so crowded concentrating on find the campground. Good thing she didn’t because she would have missed out on the tacos and, I would have, too! I positioned myself as close to Kiera as I could get because I knew she would drop some. It’s a shame there wasn’t more time because Nancy really liked bj. She is so lucky to live in such a beautiful place—she knows her way around, that’s for sure! We are really hoping that she will come to see us when she retires.

The ride here unnerved Nancy. She can’t quite figure out why—it just did. I think maybe she was tired and she wasn’t quite sure whether she was going the right way. The last 8 miles or so were on a very narrow road and Nancy wasn’t sure whether it was the right road. Then she saw the small sign for American River, but it was too late. She passed it. Fortunately, there was another entrance. Nancy was thinking a lot about Pantless. Was she going to wind up on a dead-end with no OnStar??? Speaking of pantless, she would have died if she saw us last night. Windows open, shades up--like sleeping outside.

bj told Nancy, Kiera, and me about the dark brown line on the mountain. A boulder fell a couple of years ago and went in between two houses and landed in or at the river. The people in the houses said it sounded like an earthquake.

We camped right near Troublemaker Rapid. bj is a rafter AND a kayaker. Can you imagine? We didn't get pictures of the rafters, though we did see them, because the camera battery wore down, and there was a lot of hooting and hollering.

The river was a little calmer down the road. The whole area was very pretty. Nancy would have liked to have spent more time in Placerville--very cute town.

We slept very soundly listening to the roar of the water.

I spent part of the night in Nancy's bed and part on the couch. It was nice and cool. We left all the shades and windows open.

There was a little pond that we walked around. There were two ducks near the pond. They came right up to me and looked at my nose. Nancy said she saw, later, after the batteries wore out that those ducks were making eggs that would become ducklings. When we took our next walk we saw a Mother duck with two little ducklings. Nancy said she wondered where the other little ones were--usually ducks have more than two. They were so cute.

When we walked by the pond, there was something that was making strange sounds. One was like a horn and the other was like "rivet". Nancy told me they were frogs.

Aunt Dorothy called before we left this morning, to say goodbye. I know Nancy was teary when she left last night. I remember the last time we left their house, Rich had tears in his eyes because he said there was a possibility that he might not see Uncle Herb, again, because of his age. Who knew that Rich would be gone before Herb.

I don't know where we're going, next. Nancy has to look at her books and stuff. We'll definitely leave, tomorrow, though, so if we feel like stopping half way between here and San Francisco, we can. 

We had to go down to the patio to use the wifi--that's why I'm sort of out of order. Please come back to see the pictures, though.

I'd like to thank Janis P. for sending a wonderful piece to Nancy about our trip. At first, I wasn't going to post it, but it's one of those things that might help someone down the road or someone who is sad because they've lost someone, too.

WALK WITHIN YOU

If I be the first of us to die,  Let grief not blacken long your sky.

Be bold yet modest in your grieving.  There is a change but not a leaving.

For just as death is part of life, The dead live on forever in the living.

And all the gathered riches of our journey,  The moments shared, the mysteries explored,

The steady layering of intimacy stored,  The things that made us laugh or weep or sing,

The joy of sunlit snow or first unfurling of the spring,  The wordless language of look and touch,

The knowing,  Each giving and each taking,

These are not flowers that fade,  Nor trees that fall and crumble,

Nor are they stone,  For even stone cannot the wind and rain withstand

And mighty mountain peaks in time reduce to sand. 

What we were, we are.   What we had, we have.

A conjoined past imperishably present 

So when you walk the woods where once we walked together

And scan in vain the dapple bank beside you for my shadow,

Or pause where we always did upon the hill to gaze across the land, 

And spotting something, reach by habit for my hand,

And finding none,  feel  sorrow start to steal upon you,

Be still.  Close your eyes.  Breathe.

Listen for my footfall in your heart.

I am not gone but merely walk within you.

...Nicholas Evans (sent to Nancy by Janis P.)