The best laid plans. . .

Yesterday did not go as I had hoped it might.  I arrived at the campground where I hoped to pitch my tent, and was greeted by a sign that said the campground was full.  Drat!  I could have gone to alternative sites, but there were people everywhere, and I didn't think I would be able to achieve the serenity I had hoped for.  I did find a secluded spot on the beach, and enjoyed lunch there.  I also walked into the water just to bring a sense of completion to this phase of my trek.  Then, I turned the car around and headed back toward Michigan.  Rather that return the way I had come, I took a route through the Columbia River Gorge: a spectacular ride.  One place I was sure to stop was at Multnomah Falls--I have a nice picture of Gwen with the waterfall in the background, and being there today brought back sweet memories.  I drove to a place in Washington, just across the Columbia, where I planned to get a motel room.  Wouldn't you know?  This is the week for the Fair, and every room in town was booked.   There isn't much between where I was and Spokane, so I drove there and was able to get a good night's rest.

Today, I plan to go where the road takes me, as long as it's in a generally easterly direction.

This morning, as I was having breakfast at the motel, Dear, a guy about my age was gathering up a tray to take back to his wife in their room; the way I used to do for you.  It was hard going back to that empty room. . .