About a month ago a good friend asked if I wanted another dog. Reagan you recall did not make the cut for the "Into the Wild" adventure last year. He did find a great home with plenty of land to run around on. I have to admit that I was pretty hesitant about responding. I mean Reagan pretty much scarred me for life when it comes to 4 legged creatures. I have already raised 3 kids who despite my efforts to the contrary have turned out pretty good. I certainly don't need another one at 53 to screw up. As a matter of fact I waited about a week before even telling Matt about this opportunity. My friend really sealed the deal when she offered for us just to be "foster" parents for a month until she could get her placed. I discussed it over with Matt and WE both agreed, I mean I'm pretty sure WE both agreed, that this would be his dog.
Well the next day, Harley Daisy as she is affectionately known as, showed up at house (also known as The Pound, which is another story). Harley is five years old and is an English Bulldog. I must say she is the exact opposite of Reagan. Her idea of fetch is "I'll do it two times and I'm done." She has a 30 second burst of energy each night and then its lights out for the next 23 1/2 hours. And she is housebroken and doesn't have the energy to eat a thing except food. So the next time you are at the pound, you will see a live statute on the couch! You are required to pet her, just to make sure she is still alive! You all have a Happy New Year! God Bless, Art
Recently my life has been blessed with Dr. King. Meeting him and spending time with him has been a God thing. Dr. King runs a ministry in York County called Christians to Feed the Hungry. Some things you might like to know about Dr. King is he is 69 and has been feeding the poor for 38 years. His title of Dr. is genuine; it wasn’t a mail order thing or the back of a matchbook from Kumbaya University. This guy has a PHD Ivy League education from Columbia University. He was the original CSI before there was CSI. He was the York County coroner and head of the York County Substance Abuse organization when God told him to feed the poor. He usually works 20-hour days that start at 1.00 AM searching for homeless people in the overpasses of York County. Through his alliance of about 35 churches he serves nearly 6,000 meals a day every day, without one penny from any Federal, State or Local government program. His ministry was recognized this year as the most efficient charity in the state with 100% of donations going to the poor. Yeah that’s right, no overhead, no administration, and no salaries.
I have had the pleasure to spend several days over the past two weeks with Dr. King. I have been blessed to hand out coats, blankets, food and collect toys for the poor. I have seen places in Rock Hill that I didn’t know existed. I have met people who don’t even qualify to be called poor. They don’t exist except in Dr. King’s world. I have been blessed to meet other churches and pastors in this area who define the word giving. I have experienced one man’s incredible faith and belief in the God who gives life to the dead and calls things that are not, as though they were.
Prior to starting my journey with Dr. King, Manning Kimble owner of WHRI and my conduit to the good Doctor had three pieces of advice for me. 1). After spending a day with Dr. King you will want to sell everything you own and give it to the poor. 2). Do not judge the people you meet and 3). Be prepared to experience miracle after miracle. All of that has turned out to be excellent advice.
Jesus addressed this exact situation in Matthew 25. Below is what he said:
34 “Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the Kingdom prepared for you from the creation of the world. 35 For I was hungry, and you fed me. I was thirsty, and you gave me a drink. I was a stranger, and you invited me into your home. 36 I was naked, and you gave me clothing. I was sick, and you cared for me. I was in prison, and you visited me.’
37 “Then these righteous ones will reply, ‘Lord, when did we ever see you hungry and feed you? Or thirsty and give you something to drink? 38 Or a stranger and show you hospitality? Or naked and give you clothing? 39 When did we ever see you sick or in prison and visit you?’
40 “And the King will say, ‘I tell you the truth, when you did it to one of the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were doing it to me!’
41 “Then the King will turn to those on the left and say, ‘Away with you, you cursed ones, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his demons. 42 For I was hungry, and you didn’t feed me. I was thirsty, and you didn’t give me a drink. 43 I was a stranger, and you didn’t invite me into your home. I was naked, and you didn’t give me clothing. I was sick and in prison, and you didn’t visit me.’
44 “Then they will reply, ‘Lord, when did we ever see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and not help you?’
45 “And he will answer, ‘I tell you the truth, when you refused to help the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were refusing to help me.’
So the question for us this Christmas Season is which side of the King will we be standing on? The right or the left? I know for certain one man who will be on his right side.
I wish you all a Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukkah! God Bless, Art
I brought my Kindle with me on the Into the Wild adventure this year. I figured I would get some light reading in during our trip. I shopped the Kindle store for something easy or fun to read. I downloaded a couple of dumb novels that wouldn’t challenge me too much intellectually, if you know what I mean. About halfway through the second novel, God asked me why I was putting that trash in my mind and why not read something good.
I went back to the Kindle store and browsed the religion section. My eyes immediately fell on a book titled, “RADICAL, taking back your faith from the American Dream.” It was by a guy named David Platt. I never heard of him, but liked the title, so I downloaded it. It amazes me how just the little thoughts or ideas that God puts in your mind end up transforming your life forever. This book grabbed me from the very first paragraph and has made me challenge everything in my life.
This book makes you think about the American Dream (go to college, get a job, wife, family, 401k plan and health insurance and go to church on Sundays) compared to the cost of following Jesus. When Jesus talked about the “rich” I always knew those passages were referring to Bill Gates, Warren Buffet, Donald Trump and Oprah Winfrey. Now those people are rich. Me? I’m just trying to keep my head above water. But WE are all RICH who live in America compared to the rest of world. I don’t care if you are on welfare or food stamps; you are still rich by the standards of the rest of the world. All Americans were born with a silver spoon in their mouth and most of us don’t even realize it, including me. It became crystal clear to me the “rich” man Jesus was referring to was ME.
How many of us today would really follow Jesus if he told us to sell EVERYTHING and give it to the poor? Who would follow Him if He said, “Quit your job, your wife, your family and follow me?” Who would follow him if He said, “you will be handed over to be persecuted and put to death, and you will be hated by all nations because of me.” I’ve worked my whole life for this “stuff”! Quit my job in this economy? Lose my life for You? What are you nuts or something? But that’s exactly what the cost of discipleship is all about.
This book made me focus on having a radical relationship with God. I had to ask God to show me all the “things” or “stuff” in my life that I had put in front of Him. The “things” I had put my security in, instead of Him. I wasn’t real thrilled with all the “things” he showed me. After 50 some years I had accumulated a lot of “stuff”. But in the words of Paul, all this stuff is worthless compared to the greatness of knowing Christ Jesus. So if the world calls me crazy or stupid, just know I am just trying to walk out this radical relationship with God. I wish you all a Merry Christmas,
As a child I always loved getting a box of crackerjacks.They always came with a small cheap prize in every box.It was like getting two things for the price of one.We would rip open the box and immediately find the prize before ever eating the first popcorn. I remember some of the prizes were actually pretty cool and some, well, were just thrown away.
Then the fledgling fast food industry got in on the act and started offering free items. Buy one get one free or get a free coke on your fifth order, etc.Then the bigger they got the prizes started to increase and if you “won” a game you’d win a vacation or car. And as they got really big the jackpot winner received “security for life” by winning some huge amount of money.
Then governments got in on the action when they saw how “prize” oriented the masses had become.They called it a lottery with the net proceeds (after all good expenses were paid) going to some noble cause, usually education.For a dollar you had a tiny chance to win millions and “security for life”. Some people never played knowing there was no chance to win.Some people fell in love with the idea and played daily. Soon it was costing them everything they earned. And others just played once in awhile when the jackpot was humongous.Then once a month or so the lottery winner would be trotted out bearing a check with millions of dollars written on it, just to keep people motivated to continue playing.
Now can you imagine a prize more valuable than winning a lottery? A prize so awesome your mind cannot comprehend its value? How about a prize that never loses its value? A prize that pays off ALL your debts forever? A prize so wonderful the winner receives “security for eternity”? A prize that removes all doubts, fears and concerns of this world and replaces it with joy, a peace that passes all understanding and unconditional love. Now how cool is this, the odds of winning this prize are not 1 in 245,897,652 but 1 in 1. And do you know the best part of this prize?The cost of this prize has already been paid!
If we truly understood the unbelievable value and richness of this prize, this treasure, this indescribable gift, would we not all want it?Of course we would, I hope. The prize I’m talking about which you all know by now, is simply eternal life in heaven with Jesus Christ our Savior.
As long as I am consciously pressing toward the mark of the PRIZE of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus as called for in Philippians 3:14, “things” in this world have little value. But as soon as my focus is on earthly things, which happens more often than I care to admit, I become consumed with the concerns, fears and worries this world has to offer. So when that happens I have to remind myself that I’m an eternal spirit whose earthly body is here for just a vapor of time. I just need to press on toward the mark of the PRIZE.
My name is Art Townsend.I was born in Mansfield, Ohio on August 27, 1957.I died June 11, 2009 in Rock Hill, S.C. This is the story of God’s amazing Grace in my life. I am just an ordinary man with some extraordinary experiences.I have always liked the quote from Richard Bach, “Here is a test to find whether your mission on earth is finished: If your alive, it isn’t.” So since I’m alive, even though I was dead, my mission is not complete.And if you are reading this, your mission isn’t complete either.
Heart disease has been in my life since I was twelve years old. It was the summer prior to entering “junior high” and I was naturally playing baseball and my father was in about the 4th year of being our coach.I always enjoyed baseball but not as much as my old man.We ate, drank and slept baseball throughout most of the year.Well it was the first game of the season and I was the starting pitcher.I liked pitching if I had my “control”, which didn’t happen too often.That day control was nowhere to be found.I hit the first 3 batters with fastballs, threw an easy groundball over the first basemen’s head and walked the next two.After which my father proceeded to have the first of many heart attacks over the next several years.The good thing about all of it, was I thankfully got to leave the game and follow my father to the hospital.But I digress; let me start at the beginning.
I am the youngest of three children.My parents were Leo and Anne Townsend. I have two older sisters, Beth and Pat. I grew up in a great midwestern neighborhood where everybody knew everybody else in the neighborhood.There was really no knocking on doors and waiting for someone to answer the door.Usually you just knocked and let yourself in.It was a time of black and white TV with only three channels, telephone party lines and no bicycle helmets.Being the youngest of three children and the only boy, I was only slightly spoiled rotten (okay maybe it should be very spoiled), very argumentative and sometimes a little cocky.I remember my Mom telling me in the second grade she hoped I’d be an attorney.I asked her “why”?She said because I enjoyed arguing so much with others.I immediately replied, “No I don’t!”Thus starting another argument.
I spent most of my time playing whatever sport was in season.In the fall we played football, in the winter basketball and in the spring baseball.As an athlete talent and size were never on my side so I had to rely on discipline and determination. My motivation always started out with a bet.“I bet you can’t do ________.” Fill in the blank and it was on.Our teams were mediocre most of the time and a winning season came around every now and then.
I got in the usual mischief growing up that most times started with my mouth.I would have to say I’ve been pretty much a smart aleck my whole life.As the son of a marine sergeant, discipline was always prevalent in our house.We were Lutherans and for 17 years we went to church every Sunday come rain, snow, sleet or hail. And if you were sick, that didn’t get you a pass either.From my perspective as a kid it was pretty much a dead church, maybe the adults felt differently. It really was a social event for us kids.
Well anyways, one Sunday my mouth got me in a whole lot of trouble.I think I was about 12 or 13, proceeding to the height of my smart aleck ways.My mother was on the far inside of the pew.I was sitting next to her and my two sisters were next to me and my father was on the outside.My mother said something that to this day I can’t remember, but my first thought was, “Oh shut up”.Now that thought turned to action, an action a wiser person would have never followed up on.I proceeded to tell her to “shut up” but I swear I stopped at “shut”.Nevertheless, she heard what I was thinking and it was on.She proceeded to grab a communion card and start writing.I was earnestly wondering what in the world she could be writing.She finished and handed me the card and sternly said “Pass this to your father.”I turned the card over and read, “Leo, YOUR son just told me to shut up.What are you going to do about it?”I passed the card to my sister who read it and began to snicker.She passed it on to my other sister who read it and snickered.She handed it to my father.
I immediately felt this hand around my neck tighter than a vise grip.To this day I believe it was the beginning of the stretch armstrong doll.I felt my body rise out of the pew against my will and I was praying this was a spiritual experience and not something manifesting in the physical world. Unfortunately for me, it was the latter and what should have been the Holy Spirit, was actually the anger of one very upset marine father.As I proceeded to leave the pew, against my own free will I might add, and hauled down the aisle in front of the whole church, my mind raced with thoughts as to what my punishment might be for this slight slip of the tongue.Where are social services at when you really need them?
When we got to the car, I looked at my Dad’s face and saw it turning shades of red that I never knew existed.On the drive home my father gave me a history lesson on my birth and how the woman I just told to shut up, nearly died that day.I tried to correct my Dad (imagine that one) that it was just shut and not shut up.I almost got out of the way of the hand flying my way.As we were finishing our basement into a “rec room”, our garage was filled with an assortment of lumber.My Dad told me when we got home I was to go to the garage and pick out a piece of lumber that would be his new favorite paddle.Unfortunately he added a warning that if the piece of lumber was not large enough, he would pick the next piece out.
Well things weren’t all bad; at least this bought me sometime to come up with plan b. As I picked up 2 x4’s and rejected them all, and scrounged around for something small like a 1 x 2 which I knew my dad would reject, I formulated a foolproof plan.I figured the sooner I started crying, the sooner he would stop hitting me.God, I’m such a genius.So I made up my mind I would just start balling with the first wack.Brilliant idea.I spent the next 30 minutes trying to find the perfect piece of wood.Actually I was praying it would break after the first or second hit.
I think you know how this ends.Plan B failed miserably and my rear end got lit up like a Christmas tree.Needless to say I never thought or said shut up to my mother again.
Back in the late 60’s and early 70’s there was not much technology for heart disease.They pretty much just gave you some morphine for the pain and maybe some nitroglycerin and hoped you made it.Back then the first 48 hours was the most critical.Children were not allowed on the hospital floors and had to wait in the waiting area or hang out in the coffee shop.If you were allowed up on the floor it usually was not a good sign.
Things were grim with my father after a couple of days and each one of us kids were called into his room individually for I guess what was supposed to be our last goodbyes.Being the youngest I was the last one in and I watched each of my sisters come out with tears in their eyes.My father was my hero, he was bigger than life to me, but as I walked into his room he seemed much more human.The only part of the conversation that I remember was he told me, “Art, whatever you do in this life, do it the best you can.Otherwise, it is not worth doing.”That is great advice when you are doing something good, unfortunately I also followed it when I was doing bad things. I left his room with a feeling it wasn’t over yet and it wasn’t his time quite yet.
Over the next several years my father continued to suffer several more heart attacks and strokes.I grew up looking for the car behind every ambulance siren I heard to see if I recognized my mother, grandfather or sisters following my dad to the hospital.My mother was an RN and became the breadwinner of the family as my father eventually ended up on the disability list.I think it was a role that took its toll on my mother and added more stress in her life than she could handle.
We went from an average middle class family to a struggling one-income family.My sisters eventually joined the work force and contributed to the family budget. I never really noticed that things were tight.As long as there was bologna (and ketchup) in the refrigerator and I could play sports my world was fine.I finally started to notice a couple years later when converse “Chuck Taylor’s” became popular along with Levi jeans and I had neither. My parents had a Sears’s credit card and if Sears didn’t carry it, we didn’t get it.
My family’s financial condition became on of the biggest humiliations in my life in the 8th grade. Every Christmas the student council of our junior high would select a “needy” family in the area and have a food drive for them. One night the captain of our basketball team who was also the student body president and one of my closest friends knocked on our door.I was upstairs and heard my father welcome Steve in and heard several boxes of food being deposited on the kitchen table.Steve told my dad that our family had been selected as the needy family that year.My dad yelled several times for me to come down and say hi to Steve.I was so embarrassed and humiliated I refused to come downstairs. How could we be needy?We lived in a great middle class neighborhood.My mom and sisters all had jobs and there was always bologna in the refrigerator? Surely there was a more needy family in our town.The rest of my family seemed genuinely gracious for the food while I hid in my room from shame and embarrassment.
I’ve always had a problem with authority, whether it came from God, my parents, my sisters, my teachers etc. There was just something about being told what to do that grated on me.If someone said don’t do it, I wanted to do it. If someone told me to do something, I either didn’t do it, or did it unwillingly.Proverbs 16:18 says, “Pride goeth before destruction and a haughty spirit before a fall.” Well that’s exactly where mine usually led.
One time we were having a picnic at one of those famous roadside parks in Ohio with a grill, picnic tables, trees and gravel parking lot.While dad was grilling the burgers, I decided to start throwing stones into the nearest tree.After a few minutes my mother told me stop throwing stones before I put somebody’s eye out.I looked straight at her and said, “Ok just one more.”Now the tree I was throwing at was directly in front of me and my mother was nowhere near it, the best I recall.I didn’t know at the time that the last stone I would pick up just happened to be the exact same stone that David used to slew Goliath.
I reached down and grabbed that stone and threw it has high and as hard as I could at the tree.I mean I wanted to knock that tree down.To this day I have no earthly explanation how that stone ended up right below my mother’s eye.I stood there in shock and disbelief as the blood shot out of my mother’s face.Upon hearing my mother’s screams and crying, my father looked first, at his wife and then back at me.How a person’s face can show such deep compassion and anger at the same time is beyond me.Somehow all the “I’m sorry’s” did not take away my mother’s pain nor my father’s anger. That pride and haughty spirit will get you every time.
As my dad continued to suffer with heart disease over the years, I mentally prepared myself for his death.I knew with all his heart attacks it was just a matter of time.I can remember staring at his face and just wanting to burn that image in my brain. When he talked I wondered if I would ever forget the sound of his voice.I knew he wasn’t going to be around very much longer and with every ambulance siren I wondered if it was him and his life was over. I’m sure these are not the usual thoughts of a normal young teenager, but it was my reality.
We lived in a 1-½ story cape cod home.There were two bedrooms and a ½ bath upstairs, which my sisters and I shared. I was awakened on March 11, 1974 about six am to my mom screaming in pain.My dad yelled upstairs to us that he was taking our mom to the hospital.I went about my normal morning routine of getting ready for school not worried at all about my mom.Other than an ulcer or two she was healthy as a horse as far as I was concerned.
I drove to school that day in my own little world of sports and peer pressure.Around 11 o’clock I got called down to the principal’s office.I immediately thought back to any pranks I might have been involved with that would warrant such attention.Nothing came to mind so I was clueless when I entered his office.He said the hospital called and I needed to go down there and sign some papers for my mom’s surgery.Now that just didn’t make sense to me because I figured my dad was there and could sign whatever needed to be signed.But realizing this was a ticket out of school I didn’t say a word.
I grabbed my keys and rushed out to the parking lot.The only surgery I could think she would need would be something to do with her stomach.For just a split second I had this far-fetched thought about maybe she is dead, but dismissed it as quickly as it came into my head.I quickly turned my attention to how long hospital visit would take and what my plans would be for that afternoon.Is there anything better than being 16 and driving? I love freedom.
I arrived at the hospital and walked into the emergency waiting room.My grandfather, father and sister were there.Dad talked about what happened between 6 a.m. and 10a.m. My grandfather told stories and I waited patiently to be dismissed.After what seemed like two hours, our family doctor (remember those) came in followed by nurse with a syringe.What he said next changed my world forever.He looked at my father and said, “Leo I did everything I could to save her.” My father shot up out his seat screaming and crying.The nurse, knowing my dad’s heart history, immediately gave him a shot in his arm to sedate him.Everyone in the room bursted into tears, including me.I could not believe what I just heard.Surely this wasn’t happening and there was a mistake somewhere.I was in shock and my world just stopped.There was no way this could be happening.I had never felt so much pain and hurt.My heart felt like it was beating out of my chest.This just couldn’t be.For years I had prepared myself for dad’s death knowing for certain my mom would always be there.How could this happen?I was dazed and stayed that way for a while.What do you do when the world crashes around you?I don’t remember driving home from the hospital.When I got home I do remember slamming some kitchen cabinet doors in anger and my sister yelling at me to stop.
I realized I had never even said goodbye to my mom that morning.I never even said I love you.I just knew I’d see her that night after school. I was in my own world and I took for granted those nearest to me.It was my first life lesson that there are no guarantees in life.Unfortunately it would take a few more reminders to actually “learn” that lesson.
Well I figured it was about time to post something. Since returning from the GREAT ADVENTURE alot of people have asked, "What's next" to which I have had no reply. I have had many people encourage me to write an inspirational book about June 11th and others who have graciously complimented my writing, especially about this blog. To all of you I thank you and thus I have started to write.
So far I cannot believe how hard it is to write. I'm not sure how authors crank out book after book and my hat is off to them. I think at my best I might crank out one page a day and on a really good day maybe two. I've been thinking about posting a chapter or two to get some critique and feedback. I mean if it sucks, I don't need to spend a year of my life writing something nobody will buy. Besides, daddy needs a new pair of shoes, if you know what I mean. So let me know your interests in posting a chapter or two on the blog. God Bless, Art
We arrived in Lexington, SC today to drop off Matt. It's been quite the experience. These things never go as planned or as unplanned as the case may be. And they always go so much faster than you would ever think. I cannot believe two months went by so fast. I also believe it's something everyone should do at least once in life.
This land is so large and so beautiful. I stand in AWE of God's creation of just a small part of this wonderful universe. Anybody who ever thinks this planet is overpopulated has never been to Montana or South Dakota or Wyoming, etc. My advice to you when life gets too complicated, overstressed, overworked, etc is to just travel.
I would like to say I know what is next. But I don't. I'm sure I'll be posting from time to time and letting you know what is going on. For now, I think I have about 20 things to cross off my bucket list. Matt and I appreciate all your prayers, support and words of encouragement over the last several months. The feedback from each of you has meant so much. Just know I love you all and God Bless, Art.
Every now and then God just throws a little surprise in your life. Yesterday was one of those days for us. We spent the previous night at Sioux Falls, South Dakota and were given a "hint" to go visit the falls. I had low expectations that were happily surpassed. Falls Park is one of the nicest city parks I have come across. It is not just one falls but numerous ones. Alot of history to this city and river.
We are in Missouri today in between Kansas City and St. Louis. This will probably be our last day "WEST" of the Mississippi River. We really are not pushing the miles and pretty much shut it down about dinner time. I imagine we will be back home in 2 or 3 days. It's been a great trip to say the least and I'm sure Tonto is tired of the home cooking. Glad there is a Macaroni Grill next door. God Bless, Art
We couldn't leave South Dakota without a trip to Wall Drug in Wall S.D. and the world famous Corn Palace in Mitchell, S.D. Yes it is designed with corn. We stopped by Falls Park in Sioux Falls today and I'll post those pictures soon. God Bless, Art
Below are pictures of the sunset tonight here in Chamberlain,SD which is on the Missouri River. It was just stunning and I'm glad I was able to experience it. I hope you enjoy, God Bless, Art
We left Glacier National Park yesterday and are on I-90 heading east. I visited Glacier 33 years ago with my college roommate. At the time it was the most awesome thing I had ever seen. I remember the "Going to the Sun Road" and how stunning the views were. It was forever etched in my mind as one of those "I've got to see that again" experiences. Well I guess I'm jaded now, because after the Grand Canyon, everything else so far pales in comparison, including Glacier. I will give Glacier a second (but not close).
The Going to the Sun Road has fallen into a dismal state of disrepair and is currently in the third year of a TEN-year rebuilding period. And yes it's only costing the taxpayers 3 BILLION dollars. They are working on the section at Logan's Pass, which is the highest point on the road, and it is a goat path right now. The road is 52 miles long and I rode the victory the entire length. It took about 2 hours with all the delays and it just didn't have the allure I remember from 33 years ago. So put Glacier on your list in about 8 years.
There are still about 19 active glaciers I believe. At one point they say there were 150 glaciers, like a million years ago. The computer models indicate all the glaciers will be gone by 2030, which will probably be about when they finish up the road construction on The Sun road. As far as wildlife, we did see a black bear, some mountain goats and a few small critters. I took a boat ride on St. Mary's lake whose watercolor is just perfect due to the minerals flowing into it from the glaciers.
I know there is a God, well I knew it before, but how else do you explain we run into Sturgis, SD on a Friday night of bike week?? Yes Tonto got the victory down and I headed into town. I came, I saw and I left. Maybe next year I'll spend more time checking the scene out. Hope you enjoy the pictures. God Bless, Art
We came up the coast yesterday, stopped at my favorite world travelers, "Lewis and Clark National Park" and good old Fort Clatsop and then made that right hand turn back east at Aberdeen, Washington. I'd like to say I'm somewhat bittersweet about this direction, but it would be a lie. I'm really kinda of depressed that the end is in sight. I just have to believe Lewis and Clark felt the same way when they left Fort Clatsop and returned east. While I miss everyone back home, when we were headed west it just seemed this adventure would last a long time. Now I'm not looking for sympathy from anyone as I am so grateful for what we have done, seen and experienced. It's just that the end of this dream is in sight and I really don't want it to end. So please nobody wake me up yet.
After 6,000 miles I figured it was about time to change the oil in the Magic Bus and after conferring with my GM guru he confirmed my suspicions. Seeing how we were already parked at wal mart and the only rv repair shop couldn't get us in today, I threw caution to the wind. I promptly this morning walked in wal mart, purchased my $6.50 oil filter, a $2.98 oil filter wrench, a 10 qt super safe EPA used oil container and 2 gallons of good old well new Mobil One($42.00). Oh, did I mention the previously purchased shop towels?
I actually found the drain plug and had the proper 15mm wrench to take it off. I also noticed two filters one blue and one red. Well just in case anyone out there ever has a 8.1 litre gm vortec engine, avoid the red filter as I think it is for the transmission. Everything under the motor went pretty smooth but when it came to filling the motor with the new oil, we had just a slight gulf oil size spill. Remember the aforementioned shop towels? They worked pretty good and I figured what was left(really it wasn't that much) would just be a good seal coat for the parking lot.
So with that out of the way, Tonto and myself made it across the street, to first a great health food store. And right next door was a great organic fresh fruit and veggies farmers market. Well call mama and tell her Aberdeen is not all bad!! We hit the road and headed to Tacoma and our friendly Camping World store for a much needed exterior water inlet valve. Yes I installed it myself and so far there is no leaking, woohoo!
Our next stop before sticking it in the wind is Glacier National Park so I guess this is my last post for awhile. I'm thinking we will be home in the next 7-10 days and by then I'll be cheerio and dreaming about my next dream.
P.S. I put my house on the market this week and if anybody wants to buy it, we are "stacking 'em deep and selling 'em cheap"! Until then, I love you guys and God Bless!! Art
We left Eureka today and headed up north on the great Pacific Coast Highway 101. We didn't make it very far as there was so much to do. I think we might have done a 100 miles today. We stopped at a few beaches with the Redwood National Park thrown in between. Just one of those days where you go "WOW!" We eventually got out of California, but barely into Oregon. I stand in awe of the Redwoods, much like the Sequoia's we saw at Yosemite. Check out the pictures below.
We spotted this sign at the first beach we stopped at. Just wondering what a "sneaker" wave might be? Matt said no problem let's skim.
This does not end well I'm betting.
Yep that's how I'd do it.
M R DUCKS!
WOW WOW WOW is all I can say.
Let's put this in perspective.
Just something else to do.
A tree growing on another tree. I'm thinking freeloader.
We left the madness of Yosemite Sunday a week ago to head over to San Jose (well actually Los Gatos but who has ever heard of that?). We spent a few days visiting with friends, really family from a long time ago and had a great time. We spent one day scouting the coast for "The Mavericks". Yep another world class surfing spot when the moon and stars are aligned. If you are ever out this way I'll give you a hint, look for Pillar Point. It is also where Mark Foos (who? go google it for yourself) met his untimely death a few years ago.
On Tuesday we took the magic bus to San Francisco. We parked the bus somewhere near Fisherman's Wharf. I avoided Lombard Street to the best of my knowledge. To this day I'm not sure how we got it there. We had a great car escort is all I know. Yes I left my camera in the bus so no pictures this time. If you put away your politics and sexual orientation for just a minute, San Fran is an awesome city. I would put it in my top 3 favorite big cities in the USA. You'll have to guess who are the other 2. The Wharf is just great with it's street musicians, mimes, magicians and all those other crazies. We took a cable car ride, which was a first for me and saw other parts of the city which were just as awesome. If you have never been here, GET HERE!
Tuesday night we headed out to Stinson Beach for some dry camping and crossed the Golden Gate Bridge for Highway 1. Well at night hwy 1 and 101 all look the same. Just one wrong turn, a right instead of a left and we said goodbye to hwy 1 and Stinson Beach. So we headed towards Redding and spent the night parked next to the highway. Redding is in northern California about 150 miles east of the coast. Temperatures ranged from the 60's to 105. We arrived in Redding on Wednesday and found an inexpensive rv park and rested for a few days. Hence, no updates. Redding is home to Bethel Church and the worship group Jesus Culture. They were in town but their event was sold out and no amount of pleading on my part would free up any tickets. Maybe next time.
So instead I took the victory out and rode Rt 299 that runs between Redding and Eureka. It is now one of my all time favorite motorcycle routes. It has tight twistees (about 10 miles) like tail of the dragon and big sweepers like Cherohala Skyway and beautiful scenery of mountains, valleys, lakes and rivers. The riders in the group will know what I'm talking about, the rest of you fire up your sports cars and check it out.
So today we headed out to Eureka on the same route and it just wasn't as fun as the victory ride, but enjoyable anyways. Eureka was 150 miles away on the coast. Eureka's temperature range is a low of 50 and a high of 59 today. You got to love that Pacific breeze. Plan is to head up the coast maybe to Coos Bay Oregon and start towards Glacier. Sorry about no pictures. I miss you all. God Bless, Art
