The Plight of the Roadtrip Dog

Oliver has his own plush-lined foam seat in the back seat of the car. He loves it. It's a good thing, because not only does it keep him safe (it's belted in, and he's harnessed and attached to it), but he spent a lot of time in it today

Frances scoped out a Sambo's restaurant in Lincoln City that apparently has been there for fifty years. We discussed the ramifications of its name during the civil rights movement of the 1960s; we both remembered restaurants of that chain that didn't make it through those times. The inside of the restaurant is decorated cute-with-gift shop, and the food was outstanding. (I think Frances will be out food scout from here on out.) Oliver waited in the car.

After checking out of the Lincoln City Motel 6, we headed south; our destination being Roseburg. We didn't make it very far. You may know that Lincoln City has an outlet mall, and the state of Oregon has no sales tax. Besides, it was raining, and how much sightseeing can you do when all you survey is uniformly silver-gray and damp? We both made a couple of purchases that made us so happy we almost did the Happy Dance right there. Oliver waited in the car.

Then the sightseeing commenced. We were on the Central Oregon Coast. Sightseeing is mandatory, even (or maybe especially) in the rain. We stopped at Cape Foulweather, so named by Captain James Cook because the weather was so foul when he arrived there. Nothing in today's weather belied that name, and the sign by the giftshop (of course there is a gift shop!) said 100-mile-an-hour winds are fairly common. Not today, thank goodness.We stopped at the Devils Punchbowl, where ocean waves are practically sucked into a hole in the rocks and swirled around in a large depression. Frances took pictures. Oliver had a little walk. Other ocean oddities required stops. Oliver walked with us.

We headed inland at Reedsport on Highway 38, which has some of the quietest, least-inhabited and most beautiful scenery I've ever seen. The Umpqua River flowed fat and silver through lush hills and forests with only an occasional farm. Four miles of the highway is an elk-crossing area, with pull-outs for elk viewing. We hoped to see some. They did not disappoint us. We saw a fine, muscled bull with his harem, holding his head high and looking proud. I didn't really know elk were so big. Oliver stayed in the car.

We took Highway 138 off of 38 to get to I-5 and Roseburg. I did't know there was this much uninhabited land left in the United States. When I get jangled fromt he crush in Southern California, I now know where I will run for peace and quiet. This tree-covered section of 138 filled me with serenity, even just passing through. It was not, however, a great time to need a bathroom. We found a porta-potty next to a dirt road leading to the Yellow Creek boat ramp (thank you, boaters!). Oliver had nice walk and enjoyed the always-available dog facilities.

We made it into Roseburg just in time to watch the finals of America's Got Talent. We were both stunned that the brooding country singer--who until very recently was an unemployed chicken catcher--beat out the gorgeous, cancer-surviving Latina opera singer. Oliver was unimpressed. He tossed his little toy in the air, growled and shook it, and was generally happy to be out of his car seat.

Tomorrow--Crater Lake. Neither of us has seen it. Both of us seem to have some sort of adverser reaction to altitude. It should be an interesting day.