Space Shuttle Launch Plans

We are heading back to Florida to hopefully watch the next space shuttle launch.

Our return to our favorite state is somewhat sooner than we expected. We have been invited by the family of the mission’s pilot, Tony Antonelli, to view the launch with some of his family and friends. It is scheduled for February 12, and I hadn’t anticipated contacting you regarding this as of yet, but as you can see by accessing the links on our blog, the countdown and final preparations are taking place.

It is a short story as to how we are invited. I worked with Virginia Steves, a teacher here in Puyallup, for several years. Phil and Virginia have owned RV’s for many years and they followed our US trip blog with interest. On arrival back to Puyallup, we learned that their son in law was selected as the pilot of STS-119. Two months ago we received, through the mail, an invitation to attend the launch. Virginia’s phone call to us came the next day.

You can imagine how excited Barb and I are to have this opportunity. To heck with hunkerin down because of the bad economy, we are going to Florida.

I will blog occasionally as the event nears, daily on our arrival at Cape Canaveral. Thank goodness we have enough air miles to fly roundtrip to Atlanta where we will spend some time with Ben and Penny and enjoy their wonderful lake setting again. As the launch time nears, we will drive down to Kennedy to meet up with the Antonelli family and friends as well as the friends and families of the other crew members.

I have included four links in the upper right corner of our blog. The first shuttle info, the second is the Smithsonian link that mentions Tony’s name as perhaps one of the next to fly to the moon. Another is the NASA link which gives generic information on a multitude of projects. The last link, STS-119 Mission, provides information for this particular launch. Each can be informative tools for any children who are interested in space flight.

I hope you enjoy. I know we will. Barb and I spent a week in the Canaveral area last January and we enjoyed the sites and the weather. And with our winter weather, we look forward to Georgia, then Florida in February!!!!

Addendum

May 4, 2008


We spent the weekend in Lacrosse. It was kind of a "last chapter" and it offered me some closure to the trip. We had hoped to make Lacrosse the last stop in late March but snow and icy weather prevented us from getting there. So we drove over this weekend.


As I walked about the Selbu cemetery, it made so much more sense, the names, the dates, and the family connections. Also, the trip had brought me to a new understanding of sacrifice.


Grandpa Aune (GG) has always been a giant in my eyes. My dad died when I was 12 and Grandpa was always the patriarch to me. His iconic portrait hung in our livingroom and, I think, every livingroom in the Aune clan. It even hung in the main room at the Aune home in Selbu, Norway. He was a great man. I am proud to be his grandson and I will respect him always. I feel fortunate that he lived long enough for me, as an adult, to get to know him.


I didn't get to know Grandma Aune (Karie is the spelling on her grave stone). She died in 1927 at 49 years old. I remember seeing few pictures of her. In my conversations with Grandpa he talked so warmly of her. I didn't hesitate to name our daughter Kari and when I called Grandpa to ask permission, his response was, "Sure, and I hope she is as beautiful as my Karie was."


I have always marveled at the sacrifices that Grandpa and Grandma made. Grandpa, however, saw the realization of those sacrifices. Grandma was taken early during those hard days of labor and never saw the fruition.


I wrote the poem below the night we were parked in Ryder. My respect for her is equal to Grandpa's. I am very proud to be her grandson.


TO GRANDMOTHER KARIE WHOM I NEVER KNEW

A young wife, a younger babe in your arms,
You followed your mate’s dream of a farm.
To embark on a journey, and leave everything known,
To leave your clan and travel alone.
To board the ship like cattle to the car,
To arrive in the promised land oh so far.
Then to a cold place, relative to home,
To give birth, build, birth again, then to roam.
Only to find Lacrosse was not the place,
That he had hoped so another move to face.
And then that farm didn’t please his will,
You left your child buried on a hill.
To travel back to Lacrosse once again,
Because he said it would work so again you began.
And it did, you flourished, under sheer will,
But you never did live in the house on the hill.
More births and work, the years came and went,
You had given so much and your energy spent.
Prematurely you passed to the next stage,
But what you had given remains to this age.
First, his love of you apparent to his death,
As he mentioned you often til his last breath.
And second, the offspring, generations following,
Recognize the gift, the energy, your memory hallowing.
That you gave, you submitted, you worked, and you teamed,
But your contributions gave rise to more than you dreamed.
As you gave us promise, a future and a life of opportunity,
Your hardships, your life’s work, for this offer of gratuity.
As I complete the tour of this great nation,
I offer simple thanks through this small notion.
I bring one red rose and place on your grave,
In respect for the great sacrifice that you gave.
Today, I climbed up Selbu Washington’s hill,
Thanking you Grandmother Karie for you commitment, your will.

HOME

April 1

28 years to the day we first moved into this home, we moved back in today.

It was celebration and thanks. We saluted our Seabreeze that had performed so well, giving us safe transport and refuge from tornado warnings, tropical deluge, and icy roads. It transported us to places of which we had dreamed and had provided us experiences beyond those dreams. It joined in the long line of trucks on the interstates and exited to the narrow byways of rural and scenic America. It revealed to us the uniqueness of this land, carrying us down Old Still Road, Lick Skillet Drive, over Hard Labor Creek and down to Fraction Bottoms. It steered us through Tough Luck Lane and Snapfinger Road, over Fish Eating Creek and down to Poverty Flats. And she stopped and stayed 7 weeks by the road that epitomized our trip, Linger Longer Road.

The Seabreeze stopped in 58 different places to allow us to sleep. Four were rest stops along the road, two were Wal-Marts, two were fairgrounds and one was the town park. Four were homes of family and friends. There were 35 fuel stops, always an experience since, towing a car, we are 50 feet long. The 11,400 miles took its toll. As we pulled into home today, duct tape held the back bumper from flapping in the wind and held one windshield wiper from dangling ineffectively.

An amazing element of the trip is that Barb and I were not sick one day. No colds, no flu, no digestion problems or infections this year. Fire ant bites and no seeums caused some discomfort, but our health was better than the norm. Perhaps it was the fresh air, perhaps it was the thrill of discovery, or perhaps it was, as we have felt the entire trip, that we were undeniably blessed.

Since early January, except for the one hotel night in Mississippi, our bedroom has been in the Seabreeze. Tonight we sleep in our home. But tomorrow, as I awake, I will walk out to check that she is well, I will pause and pat her on the side on my way to pick up the paper, and I will thank her again for a memorable experience of discovery. And I will reassure her that more adventures lie ahead.

“The longest journey is the journey inwards, of him who has chosen his destiny, who has started upon his quest for the source of his being.” Dag Hammarskjöld

THE END

Last Camp

March 31

The day dawned to sunny skies and puffy clouds. We left at noon and dry clear roads made the trip over the pass and down the long winding grade into Pendleton uneventful. Our decision was to head west on the Interstate 84, changing the planned itinerary and not going to Lacrosse. We had kept them on hold for several days, weather delaying our arrival there. Also, Snoqualmie Pass (I-90) has been victim of regular closers from snow and avalanche control. We decided to drive around through Portland to home.

We could have made it home by 8 p.m. easily. We again changed our plans and chose to stop at Ainsworth State Park near Multnomah Falls to spend the night. It was 4:30 and we did not want to fight Portland traffic. Also, I think more, that Barb and I are not ready for this trip to end. We wanted one more night, some finality, and then arrive home early enough, around noon, to begin moving out of the rig.

We were close enough to Gresham that we called Vicki and Ed, Barb’s sister and brother in law, and they delivered Abby’s Pizza ( a gathering place for her family) to the rig for an evening of catching up and sharing.

It’s time to head home. We used up the last of the toilet paper this morning, April 1, no fooling.

Camped on the Oregon Trail

March 30

Morning flurries gave way to a cold grey day. The chain restrictions on the pass were not lifted until late. So, we will spend another night camped on the Oregon Trail. Yes, the trail passed through where we are parked and if anything is coming from this experience it may be that we can, in a small degree, identify with those travelers from the 1840’s through the 1860’s. Even though we are in a comfortable vehicle, and we have cell phone, internet, DOT websites, Doppler radar, television, and radio, we are still subject to the forces of nature.

Our friend Karen, who grew up in Pendleton, put it best in an email today:

Stuck, are ya’? Those mountains are what often keep my parents from visiting my sister and her family or her coming to them/us. (She lives in Ontario, OR)
Those Blue Mountains have challenged travelers for almost 200 years. This was one of the most difficult places for the pioneers to cross in the whole journey. They are very steep and rocky, and as you have experienced, a terrible place to be when the weather changes. If they’d left late, or had too many things slowing their travel, and most shoes had worn to pieces, the mountains were so terribly difficult.
Anyway, I wish you safe journeys towards home. Can’t wait ‘til you get here! April comes this Tuesday, so you have 30 days to meet your goal!!

Captivating

We woke up to ice and sleet covering the ground. For breakfast, I took Barb to the Flying J truck stop just a few miles from the campsite. Driving on even the main roads was dicey. The truck stop was surrounded by trucks that had spent the night with a sprinkling of RV’s and cars mixed in. The word from the truckers was bleak. It was even more treacherous on the passes on both sides of us.

We spent the morning in La Grande. The Oregon Trail passed through here and La Grande was a major camping area for the wagons. As the morning progressed, the ice and snow on the streets melted. We returned to the rig around noon and found our neighbors preparing to leave. The DOT cameras on the website showed that the roads on the pass had cleared and temps were above freezing. But the DOT website also warned of impending storms.

Barb and I decided not to go. In this instance, erring on the side of safety did not work. As we toured the historic city of nearby Union, the weather continued to warm to 42 degrees and the skies were blue with puffy clouds. We had an early dinner in Union. After eating at the truck stop for breakfast, Barb did not want to eat at Gravy Dave’s which had been recommended by the camp host. We did eat at the historic hotel which had entertained the likes of Clark Gable. A fine meal in a very empty town.

On returning to the campsite at around 6, the skies were still clear and temps were in the 40’s. On checking the DOT website cams for the passes, it again showed that the roads were clear and temps above freezing. Opportunity lost. We would have had plenty of time to leave this Grande Ronde Valley, beautiful and captivating. But I really don’t want to be a captive.

It is now 8 a.m. on Sunday, it is snowing/sleeting and the web cams show that chains are again required on the pass. It may be another captivating day in the Grande Ronde.

The Pacific Northwest Welcomes Us Home

We could have stayed longer. It was 80 degrees and sunny in Las Vegas. But I don’t care for that town and I was eager to leave. I watched the weather reports and I should have heeded the fronts coming in off the Pacific. However, the winds were calmed in the north Nevada desert so we took to the road. The front from the Pacific was sure to be rain in Oregon and Washington since it was almost April. Wrong.

The road into Idaho was fine. As we crossed the border into Oregon the skies clouded, then snow began to fall. The winds began to swirl around us then the I-84 DOT sign near Le Grande informed us that the pass was closed to motorhomes and trucks unless we chained up. We have chains. They are in Puyallup. We weren’t going to do any winter driving on this trip. I guess we are not. We will probably be here two days.

So we are sitting at Hot Lake RV Park and the nearby resort building that was once called the “Mayo Clinic of the West”. The railroad stopped here in the 1880’s and people traveled here “for expert medical attention and the benefits of the hot artesian water”. The Mayo brothers did spend some time here and the 186 degree water, rich in sulfur was considered valuable for the treatment of arthritis, tuberculosis, rheumatism and similar ailments. It is closed, however, so I will not be able to experience the possibilities. This large RV camp, busy from late spring to early fall, has just a few RV’s sitting here tonight. All of us hope the snow stops and the temperatures increase, allowing us to leave a semi-closed resort to complete our trip home.

So we sit, warm and comfortable, watch the snow fall, watch TV, access the internet and reminisce back to that camp site on the water in Key West. It is so far away. So far away.