'Why Wait Wallowa', could be the title for today's entry. Or, What do the numbers 26, 395, 207, 730, 12, 39, and 204 have in common? No they're not lottery numbers :) They are all Oregon roads (less 26) that I have never ventured upon. The diversity of creation and the fragrances were simply spectacular! It seemed to vary from forest to prairie, to forest to prairie, to....
Rick & Rick
Beyond the beauty that I was able to behold each mile of road...What did today offer? Three that stand out. First, while riding into Prairie City I notice a familiar Triumph. Yes, it belonged to Rick Danly. Yesterday he had told me that he was off to see Willie Nelson in concert in Nampa, Idaho. I found him sitting in a restaurant having some breakfast. So I surprised him by walking up and asking how Willie was doing? We both laughed, enjoyed more conversation and afterwards a short ride before heading in different directions. I'm sure we will meet again.
1 sign, 1 House, 1 Cemetery
Second, I had asked 3 or 4 people regarding the town of Vinson.
Live music in Vinson. Wow!
Not one person had heard of such a place, thus I figured it would be similar to the past couple of days, when I couldn't find any remnants of Umli or Jonesboro. Well, not only did I find the one house and one cemetery town, there was a bus load of folk there on a tour from the Oregon Historical Society. Who'd think a person could spend an hour and a half in a one house town? They even had old time music to hoot!
Third, is the ride into the Wallowa's. I may spend all of tomorrow here, as my late arrival due to the 'Vinson' adventure. My hour ride into this area makes me ask, "Why have I waited so long?"
There you have it. Entry three of this ABCity Tour. So I've added to the list John Day, Ukiah, Vinson, Umatilla and Umapine. Now a hot shower... 'Oh baby!', then to sleep :)
Almost every day on the bike brings virgin roads and adventure to experience. Today was no exception. Traveling along Hwy 395 from Valley Falls till the junction at Hwy 20 was beyond words. Lake Abert, not Albert, to the west and the Abert Range to the east was simply sensational! I found myself wishing I had a 'GoPro' in order to capture it for you.
Fueling up in Burns I decided to give a 'Mom n Pops' deli a try. Not only was the 'Turkey Reuben' and home made Peach pie delicious, while ordering another biker from Vancouver walked in. We enjoyed not only a good meal and conversation together, but also part of the ride east on Hwy 20. It was a pleasure to meet you Rick Danly.
I currently find myself with camp set at the, get this, 'Oregon' campground in Whitman National Forest. What, they run out of names? As last night, I enjoy this spot totally by myself. Well, of course plenty of birds continue their serenade and the doe bedded down 30 yards away :) Oh Karen would love it so. This brings to an end a wonderful day, that included the ABCity towns of Valley Falls, Juntura, Vale, Jamison and Unity. Unity had the bonus of conversation with Larry Stratton who owns the vacant store with the disconnected pay phone. Both history of the town, including the 'El Dorado Ditch', a 100 mile plus ditch built by Chinese labor and the phone booth made this last stop very memorable.
The trip that almost didn't. I began planning for this ABCity Tour since hearing the 2015 selection of cities back in February. Those choosen are JUVY and Z. Since Karen would be in Mexico over the same period I made arrangements with our granddaughter to house and dog sit. It was all set, even confirmed two weeks prior. Then, then's happen, before church began I leaned over to hand her our house key, to which she responded, "Grandpa, that's this weekend?" Oh well, a rush to find a replacement was successful on the third attempt. You know what they say...
So here I awake on this beautiful Friday morning glad for my North Face sleeping bag to fight off the sub 40 temps. I find myself in my new REI Passage 2 tent about 150 yards off the highway on what I presume to be Fremont National Forest land. And I sit among the same burnt trees that I fought to protect in the 'Lost Fire' some forty years earlier.
Yesterday had me discovering both Jasper and Yonna, but the hour search for Umli left me empty. Good luck folks, other than a street, it doesn't appear to have any remaining remnants.
Well, time to arise and begin another fine day of adventure. Reading from I Timothy chapter two I'm reminded to pray for ALL men...for Kings and those in authority that we may lead a peaceful and tranquil life. For me right here, it is so very...but those in North Korea, in Iran, Syria, much of Asia, Africa, South and Central America it is not. So, I pray Father for theses men and women in authority, that people in those lands may as well lead peaceful and tranquil lives.
I began playing baseball around 1967. Prior to this, if I'm true to my memory, playing with 'Hot Wheels', riding my bicycle and climbing trees were all the joys required for boys in the 60's. That Spring something began which has never departed, that is a love for the game of baseball.
To some, baseball is the most boring game ever invented. To others, myself included, we can't wait for a another Spring to arrive, to smell the leather of the mitt or ball, to hear and feel the crack of the bat, and to wait for the umpires yell, "Play ball!"
Looking good #12!
Lou Gehrig and Babe Dahlgren
I can't tell you why, for neither of my parents had athletic ability, but for some reason I could play ball, and play well. And though every player and/or team will tell of both great plays and seasons, there are others that well...maybe we should have been fishing. But almost without end I loved and still love the game.
The summer of 1967, playing for the Pirates, dad would send me to a batting school. Whether it was Babe Dahlgren's batting school, or Babe happened to be there I don't remember. What I do remember is that I was being coached by the man who is known for replacing the 'Iron Horse', Lou Gehrig on May 2, 1939. What a great memory and opportunity that gift was. Thanks dad!
Scoring...
During the 1970 and 71 seasons I played for the 'Lawndale Dodgers'. You never heard of them? Well, let me tell you. My coach was 'Coach Joe'. I have never been able to recall his last name. I remember it sounding like Joe Garagiola, who was a catcher and more known for his baseball broadcast career. But then again his last name could be totally different and I could be entirely off base. No pun intended :) None-the-less, it was Coach Joe who instilled confidence, motivation and a deep love of playing baseball into the life of this young boy.
Oregon State Champs!
One of the plays that season was a deep hit (now this is 'little league', so deep is relative) to right center-field. I made what was perhaps my first diving catch. As I trotted back to my position I could hear some folks sitting on the grass behind the center-field fence saying, "Wow, what a catch". After the third out there was 'Coach Joe', smiles, high fives and encouraging words that still strike deep.
The 'Kid' Strikes a Grand Slam!
As you can see by the other pictures, my love of playing continued well into the 90's. And though I could still play the game, I'm realistic to know that the body has different ideas. So...I take up where 'Coach Joe' first began...instilling the love of baseball into the lives of young men...boys of summer.
MVP 1971
If you're still alive 'Coach Joe', know that I am FOREVER GRATEFUL for the role that you played into this boys life in the early 1970's. You've never been forgotten! And oh, that second year playing for 'Coach Joe', I won the league MVP. The ingredients...skill, love of the game and encouragement from a great coach!
They all have names from 'Twin Oaks' to 'Miller', perhaps 'Oakland'
or 'Valley View, many are 'Evergreen' and 'Pioneer,yet few 'Tumalo' or 'Bilyeu'. But in none
lies Elizabeth Anne (Jopp), so in our memory forever she'll stand.
Like watching planes out of LAX, or Marineland on a sunny
day…Dancing to the 'Big Bopper', enjoying her every sway. There's graduation in
68' or the camping days in the 'Crazy Eight'. Though no marker in which to
drive...the lady called mom...forever will survive.
A short motorcycle ride SE from home
In simple words they tell of life, like 'loving mother' or
my 'darling wife'. Often flowers, a flag, or a cross, placed by one who cared
and suffers by their loss. Yet none for Elizabeth Anne, so in our memory
forever she'll stand.
Riding bikes and falling too, hand-made blankets for me and
you. Laughing, grinning and playin games. Singing Elvis back in the day. Tellin
of stories where we get lost...along the way.
Wind and rain mar the words no longer read. They told the
story of the parted, the dead. A place to go and say goodbye. I love you, I
miss and somedays I cry. But never forgotten our Elizabeth Anne...for this is
why...
Viola, a little known community
You gave us love and strength, hope for another day. You
taught us with more than words could ever say. Proud you'd be of the life we're
living, we learned from the best, that the best is just giving.
Blooming...a place of rest
In simple words they tell of life, like 'loving mother' or my
'darling wife'. Often flowers, a flag, a cross, placed by one who cared and suffers
by their loss. Yet none for Elizabeth Anne, so in our memory forever she'll stand.
In our memory forever she'll stand...
Our mother died on May 25, 1989, exactly 26 years from today. Her ashes were rightly spread by our dad Bob Jopp while flying in the airplane they so loved. I'm quirky in the sense that while riding across the county-side on my motorcycle I often will make a stop at a Cemetery. The above blog tells of the thoughts I have at times, reflecting that mom has no marker...yet in our memory forever she stands. Perhaps one day we'll place a bench, a brick and some other marker somewhere. A small airport seems to be the logical choice...Today is Memorial Day. Yes a day for her memorial!
It was the last day of the tournament, our team had just
lost earlier in the morning to be knocked out. I decided to return to the
fields after cleaning up to take in a couple games without coaching
distractions. The afternoon had turned to a beautiful blue sky with white
pillow-cloud type of day. The smell of freshly mown grass, the manicured field, the players warming up and the variety of the color green in the trees, plants and grass all were captured within my view as I rode my GT bicycle back to the ball fields. Riding
along right field I leaned against the fence.
'Keith' enjoys the game
It would have been simple enough just to zone out and watch
the ensuing game, but something…no someone caught my eye. He sat in his powered
little red wheelchair and took in the sight just as I. We spoke to one another couple
times and I quickly noticed that he had suffered a stroke that left him in the
wheelchair along with slurred speech. I wondered what and where the journey of
his life had taken him? How long had he been in the chair? Did he have family
and friends that checked in on him? What was his typical day like? Did he ever
play baseball himself? I mentioned that the tournament championship game would
be played later that day at another field. Sure enough we would say hi in
passing at that game as well.
A National Anthem Sung at America's Game
Silverton in pursuit of victory
Later in the week I was back to the varsity diamond, where I
initially saw him, to watch the High School team play and win in order to make
the playoffs. About the third inning riding up in his little red machine Keith
(I learned his name to be) once again joined us along the right field line. This
time I learned a little of his story, that he had in fact played baseball and
was a third baseman. His smile was beaming as he briefly told of that era of
life.
What a game!
The moral of the story for me…to be aware of our
surroundings and those who come within view. And two, grateful that physical
disabilities don’t have to limit the opportunity to enjoy some of life’s simple
pleasures…even America’s pastime…baseball.
Harry Carey was a sports announcer who is most know for his work with the Chicago Cubs the last 16 years of his career.
From morning through days end May 1st, 2015 was 'one of those'
most gorgeous of days. And whats a guy to do with a day like that, but to take
to the road on his Yamahaug. Yet, for its beauty alone is not reason enough
that this day will forever become etched into my memory.
Light bar & Headlight...in need of repair
The morning had me traveling 15 miles south in order to hand
deliver a card of sympathy to a friend of more than thirty years. Her mother,
one of the 'League of Their Own' baseball players of the nineteen-forties and
fifties, had died the day before. And though I never had the privilege to know
Julie's mom, I know Julie. This past decade is nothing short of beauty of its
own in the manner in which she honored her mother through her care and love.
Crash Bar...Right side quite bent
The afternoon had me dressed quite differently as I was
called on to usher for another friend of thirty years. This friend two weeks
earlier had died in an automobile accident. Yesterday we honored her life! A
life filled with music, a life filled with teaching and story telling. A life
with laughter,joy and the concern for
others. Barb, you will be missed.
Another view of the 'Crash Bar'
Following the service, I quickly donned my motorcycle gear once
again to begin an hour ride south through the Creators beauty, called the
Willamette Valley. The sound of my cobra pipes, the wind and perhaps me singing
'How Great Thou Art' at the top of my lungs, were all the ingredients required
to make this yet another most wonderful ride. And then...Life is full of 'And
thens'. I was only ten minutes from arriving at my destination,'Camp Koinonia' (where I was set to attend a
men's retreat) when in a sudden flash, one life was taken. Where the deer came
from and how I was able to keep the bike straight on course... I have not a clue.
What I know... that a life was sacrificed, and once again it was not mine.
Some two thousand years ago Jesus, the Messiah, was
sacrificed in my...in our place. As with the deer, I felt nothing, but have
everything to be grateful for. Mark Hall says, "Not because of who I am,
but because of what you've done. Not because of what I've done, but because of
who you are. I am a flower quickly fading, here today and gone tomorrow, a wave
tossed in the ocean, a vapor in the wind. Still You hear me when I'm calling,
Lord You help me when I'm falling, You told me who I am. I am Yours, I am
Yours....Whom shall I fear, whom shall I fear, because I am Yours".
A bit of 'Deer Fur' left behind
At this moment, the significance of yesterday... I don't
know. What I do know is that I've been given some additional 'vapor time'. Thirty
years? Perhaps! Today, to listen, to not be distracted from life's interruptions.
Tomorrow...back on the Yamahaug! Oh, and the day after...removal of deer fur
and some repair for the Yamaha :)
Third, is the ride into the Wallowa's. I may spend all of tomorrow here, as my late arrival due to the 'Vinson' adventure. My hour ride into this area makes me ask, "Why have I waited so long?" 
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