12 Oakdale

Trying to fit in all our travel needs and desires. Yes, I know, a first world problem, but it is my situation. How to fit in trips to see Spaulding and Mary into our summer schedule? Then it dawned on me: combine them. Duh. That meant flying Delta, since Frontier would be the only other choice direct to Salt Lake City. Comfort+ out, first class red eye back. No more small seats for us. June 27-July 2, we were in Salt Lake City, charmed by Teddy who now has 2 bottom teeth and was fairly stoic about getting 2 uppers that were just about to break through. Friday, Molly worked from home, so Spaulding, Grant, and I went down town to Caffe d’Bolla where Spaulding had made reservations for a coffee tasting experience. Thank goodness there was a mix up, and we only had 1 seat reserved (total of 3 spots for event, and the other 2 were taken by the production manager and head of visuals for a touring DJ whose name I’ve forgotten, but Spaulding and Molly knew). This was way over my head and taste...

Our second time to Bear River refuge, this time with heavy fog and frost-covered plants. We opted to visit the welcome center first to let the day warm up. The walk in was icy, so we trod very carefully. Fabulous display including a restored airboat. Who knew these were invented here in 1943 by researchers who needed to get through the marshes more easily while studying geese. I always assumed airboats were good ole boys’ toys from the Everglades or bayous down south. Once the sun came out, the fog lifted and the frost disappeared. We slowly drove the auto tour, looking for swans but seeing gulls, lots of gulls. And hundreds to thousands of female red winged blackbirds. Finally, off in the distance, there were swans and Canada geese, too far away to identify other species. Another reason to travel with the scope.  On the drive in we saw 2 maybe 3 northern harriers cruising the fields, 2 rough-legged hawks sitting in a tree, 6 great blue herons flying over, and a kestrel hunting. As...

Getting there:  At 3:33 AM, there were the fewest cars I’d  ever seen on I-4. Our drive to the Marriott Lakefront to park and the bus ride to the airport were easy, unlike for the people traveling on Sunday. Our driver said it took him 54 minutes from the hotel to the terminal.  Once there, an outside skycap grabbed our big bag and checked it. Inside, as he said, was a madhouse. I hadn’t gotten around to make a reservation for TSA, but the lines didn’t look too long. As we walked over, an agent said the position in front of him was open. Not a person in line. (Like lemmings, everyone had just gotten behind someone else. We were going to too.) We waited less than a minute. At the X-ray machine, an agent told me to take off my boots since they had metal zippers and would set off the alarm. Nope. I said I was old and had metal in me and would likely set it off anyway. I got patted down, not for my boots, not for my knee, but something suspected in my shoulder. Who knows....