“This is why I like this car!” I told Tamera and Sonya while I passed three John Deere tractors and a pilot vehicle on the Pasco-Kahlotus Road heading toward Levy Park. In no time had I seen my opportunity on the stretch of two-lane paved road cleared and hit the afterburners and was pushing over eighty miles per hour. I saw it was cleared and went back into my lane and lowered the speed to a saner sixty miles per hour.
Tamera went by the Google map that Levi Park, which she and her ex-boyfriend used to fish at was closed but had a boat launch nearby where we could fish from. I had already resigned myself to not go back to the spot we fished from the evening before. I wasn’t certain my left foot could handle another back and forth of navigating over a trail land mined by half buried rocks and boulders.
Plus, I also wanted to show these two my car’s abilities to move at break-neck speed without a whimper. Thus, passing those farm implements was icing on the cake for me. I felt so happy. We then found the road we needed and went down a reasonable steep grade to the bank of the Snake River and the closed park with locked gate and a sign stating as much. We then drove back to the boat launch area and walked down to the water’s edge and then Sonya asked Tamera, “Mom where are the worms?”
As luck would have it, she packed them into a cooler and left the cooler inside her car instead of bringing it to my car. A Dote moment indeed, so we stayed with the tackle we were unsuccessful at last night and of course expected something would change. It was kind of like a crazy man expecting a different outcome from doing the same stupid thing over and over again.
We had the same result I caught nothing, Tamera caught what I’m certain was the same exact fish from last night that Sonya caught and Sonya was skunk too. We packed up and left about an hour later. I let Tamera drive back.
Naturally, she had to see for herself how it felt to drive a Dodge Charger over eighty miles per hour. The difference being that she kept going fast until we nearly reached the freeway, then slowed down and merged into traffic on US 12. We crossed the Snake River Bridge, and I was watching the upcoming exit we needed to take to get back up to the highway that led to Charbonneau Park. She drove and I guess was thinking of other places to go before she slept, paraphrasing Robert Frost, and heading south on the freeway.
“Why is everyone going so slow?” Tamera asked. I looked at the speedometer and it registered sixty miles per hour, the posted speed limit. I shrugged.
“I guess no one is in any kind of hurry,” I replied.
“Jerry, did we miss our turn?”
“Well yeah, but I figured you knew that and just liked driving my car so much you wanted to extend the drive some more.”
“No, jeez Jerry, I was thinking about what I wanted to eat for lunch.” On the next available road that came up she made a left turn and headed back toward the highway we needed to go on. I just chuckled at her expense. “And why didn’t you say anything?” She asked Sonya.
“I thought you knew what you were doing and kept my mouth shut. I wasn’t really paying attention either.”
We parked the car and had lunch. “Can you guess what my most favorite sandwich is Sonya?”
She eyed the half full jars of peanut butter and honey upon the table. “Peanut butter and honey?” It was more in the form of a statement than a question though.
“You got it!” I announced as I proceeded to glob onto my bread a heavy dose of peanut butter followed by honey. I cut the sandwich in half and scarfed it down.
After we finished, Tamera announced, “We’re going tubing. Do you want to come?”
Without hesitation I answered, “Sure.” Then though, I started thinking about it. Even though I have decent amount of number 70 sunscreen on my arms and face and bared thighs already, the fact they brought just two of those floaties with them, leaving me with nothing to go on, and there was more than likely little or no shade, where as now, here was plenty of shade and I could do some writing on my laptop.
While I was contemplating and ruminating they discovered that air-filled floaties don’t fit inside my car very well and they had to resort to deflating them so that they would fit and once at their destination reinflate them.
“Are you ready?” Tamera asked. Deep down she already knew the answer.
“I think I’ll just stay here. Have fun,” I told them.
“Oh, we will,” Tamera replied as they got back in my car and drove away.
I was plenty tired anyway and had in mind to crawl into my tent and try to at least attempt at taking a nap. The heat was palpable though. I’m certain if the ambient temperature in the shade was well above eighty, it was surely ten degrees hotter inside my tent and decided to just sit back, relax, and actually do nothing. I must say, I succeeded quite nicely.
Two hours later they returned with Sonya driving. She had a pretty sizable grin on her face. “Pretty nice ride, huh?” I asked her when she stepped out of the car.
“Yeah,” she replied and proceeded to fix something to eat.
Tamera then told me they went across the river at the Sacajawea State Park where they floated about. It’s where the Columbia and Snake Rivers meet or converge. She and Sonya posted selfies on Facebook.
We sat about discussing all manner of subjects that included Sonya’s first big job on a Montana ranch that she had to help birth calves in the dead of winter this past year. She didn’t last because she became sick and had to come back to Oregon. A job I certainly couldn’t do even in my much younger days. She’s now a veterinary assistant at a veterinary hospital in Bend.
Tamera pulled her sleep mattress out and laid on it. She looked absolutely regal. “What we ought to do is Jerry you get on the bed with me, have Sonya take a picture then photo shot us as though we were in the river.”
I laughed but didn’t get up. I took a picture of her that I later shared.
We saw the sunset, or as I described to my sister, who concurred, the earth rotated away from the sun to prove we aren’t in the center of the universe.
I read some more, played more computer games and soon it became dark enough to go to bed. Naturally, my cot decided it didn’t appreciate my weight on it and promptly folded down and I had to ask my sister and niece to assist in righting the thing back in place.
That done, after using the available rest room I went to bed. I’m sure the noise wasn’t as noticeable as the night before and I fell right to sleep. At least for an hour or so a family, playing rap music came in and began talking boisterously, arguing, and making asses of themselves for a good hour. I so wanted to storm out there and demand they shut their pie holes. But I just let them be idiots instead. Eventually the music stopped, and the cursing, bickering and loud chatting diminished and then I fell back to sleep.
Then a strong gust of wind blew inside my tent, and I had to curse myself for thinking camping out at my age was a good thing. The winds continued throughout the rest of the night, and I got no sleep after that. The train’s horn resounded like the morning before.
I finally gave up, got dressed and went to rest room where I did my business and took a shower. I ate the last of my cereal but with only a smidgen of milk left in that pint-sized container. I then began taking everything down and placing it in the car.
Such a wonderful time.
Part three next.
Jerry Schellhammer 