Oregon: Jefferson

Hours spent rolling down the road and we found ourselves pulling over to stop at a small grocery store in the town of Jefferson, Oregon. We'd gotten stuck in a bit of traffic a bit further back and upon finding a safe and amicable place to pull over for a minute, I opted to so we could rest our cars and grab some refreshments. We'd made pretty good distance and were nearing the Northern edge of Oregon, though there was still some miles left yet. Even so, when I found myself at the edge of a street that ran directly into a riverway while searching for a public bathroom, I knew we had to at least check it out!

Of course, no idyllic river scene is complete without a noose? Oh my! Initially I wanted to take this as a bad omen, a spooky sign that the beauty of the Pacific Northwest was really a thin, oily veneer obscuring or obfuscating a nasty propensity towards Shanghai'ing the unfortunate and spiriting them away, whether in a Missing 411 type scenario or simply into old-fashioned human trafficking... but Antho was quick to note that it looked more like a climbing point used by the local graffiti artists to get to higher ground. I'm going to hope it's the second and try to roll with that, because life is full of creepy awfulness and I'd rather cling to the ideal....or I just don't want to let superstition cast a shadow over my otherwise upbeat adventure. Onward and up! Let's go!

And after a long drive, it really is nice to stretch your legs next to the water. The gentle trickle of the flow as it winds its meandering way on to whatever destination this particular branch of hydration hopes to reach. It always kind of boggles my mind that people grow up next to these, casually dipping down to the water's edge to be alone or get up to the standard teenaged mischief. Sure, desert kids can traipse off into the wasteland to build a scrubby fire and dance around a dry lakebed, but the environment is so austere, so unwelcoming. Thick belches of bushes covered in thorns aren't exactly welcoming, not to humans, per se, but they do foster life in other forms by giving rabbits and raccoons a place to hide and forage. 

And while I was enjoying our stroll alongside the stream, Antho was quick to remind me that the grocery store we'd been parked at had ample signs warning against loitering or parking in their lot for extended periods. Better to play it safe than sorry, especially when it comes to the possibility of having your vehicle towed during a multi-state road trip...besides, we had places to be and miles to go, so as much as I'd have liked to linger we packed it in and headed back to the vehicles.

Reno: Driving in towards the city

Once we were properly stretched, situated, and caffeinated (given I'm a hopeless coffee fiend, while Antho has only started to dabble in the beany-brew quite recently) we returned to the road. We were grateful for the daylight, as our drive in the wee hours of the night had taken us down some back-country roads where we were anxious about stopping despite being bleary-eyed with exhaustion, lest we awaken to find an angry farmer banging on our window. The scenery directly outside of Vegas is quite familiar to us, too, so we weren't especially heartbroken about missing out on the scenic views further south, but as we were rapidly stretching into new territory and it's far more interesting to be able to watch the scenery evolve as you travel! Antho took the camera for this stretch of the road, so he caught some shots of my old Volvo rolling along, as well as his own co-pilot's nest. I had Ollie riding along with me, while Antho kept our sweet girl Buttercup with him for the duration.  Her cage was only a temporary solution, as she was previously living in the big mansion of a cage that had housed all of our ladies and was impractical and illogical to cram into either vehicle. Normally we travel together and only take one vehicle when we go out and about on day to day adventures, so having our fuzzy company helped take some of the edges off of going it alone. The walkie-talkies helped quite a bit, too, as we could communicate immediately with one another about road conditions, a guy riding our butts, a strange burnt out abandoned structure off to the side of the road, what-have-you. If you ever find yourself traveling an extensive way as part of a caravan, I absolutely and emphatically recommend getting walkie-talkies to stay in touch with your fellow drivers! Not only will you be able to communicate with everyone in your party (crucial), you might get to pick up on some random conspiracy chatter as you hurtle across the landscape. We caught some serious government conspiracy rants breaking through our channel somewhere around here, which added some unexpected intrigue to the proceedings. 

Bonus Goats in Glendale, Nevada

Goats are, without a doubt, one of my all-time most favorite out of the animals. I mean, penguins are stupid cute and wobbly, dolphins graceful and mischievous mysteries, sloths adorably slow-moving little hang-out buddies, but goats have something special in their weirdness. Not only are their pupils unique in their big, goofy, boggling eyes, but their legs seem to be spring loaded with their silly acrobatics sending them catapulting all over the place. They come in such a wide variety, too! Big, gamboling beasts with flat faces and draping meat-curtains for ears, or tiny little dwarf varieties. Their color patterns are as unique as their phenotypes, with all sorts of unique markings distinguishing one goat from his buddy. There are goats who, for whatever strange accumulation of the genetic lottery, are prone to fainting at the slightest startle- then there are big, scary goats who would f**k you up like a roided out bro-ham at a college bar late one Saturday bleeding over into Sunday morning.  The goats we encountered in Glendale, luckily, were of the tamest and friendly manner, happily trotting up to us when we stepped foot near their pen. They were more than happy to let us take photos as long as we paid them in scritchins, because everyone loves a good scratching behind the ears. They were surprisingly quiet, only bleating at us once during our entire encounter...and that sole, singular bleat came when I started to walk away from the pen in an effort to try to photograph the horses gathered nearby. The horses were decidedly less friendly to us and noped out of the vicinity as soon as I showed any actual interest in interacting with them. Their loss- more love for the goats! They were in a pen behind the same little convenience store from the cow post, which was itself directly in front of a ranch of some kind. We didn't want to trespass on anyone's private property, so we didn't explore beyond the lot, but I like to think that given their proximity to such a public place the goats get lots of love and affection from random humans throughout the day. They certainly were receptive to our attention, and when it was time to get back in the van the goats seemed sad to see us go... but perhaps I was projecting my own personal sense of sadness at leaving such a cute lot of friendly faces behind. I'm always pleasantly surprised to encounter goats, whether they're in a petting zoo or a parking lot, and I'm very much excited for the day when I might be able to have my own. Is that weird? I guess. But I don't mind. Goats are awesome!