Eclipse 2017, Day 4: John Day day 2

It had been decided we would go to the forest today (Malheur National Forest that is).  Just because we weren't enjoying the forest as our hotel didn't mean we couldn't enjoy it for its own sake.  Doing so would require our party to be well-fed and properly hydrated.  We had no choice but to patronize Little Canyon Food Truck.

Finding parking in John Day is considered a failure if there is more than ten feet of walking.  We pulled right up to the food truck.  "Food truck" is a bit of a misnomer.  Us city folk are accustomed to roach coaches (standard and glorified).  A tin can the length of a cargo van and a bit taller squeezes a kitchen, ingredients, two cooks and a cashier in like a sardine can.  Dad is pretty sure such uncomfortable people are thinking "Fuck! How am I going to keep this drop of sweat out of the food?  Maybe if I -- shit! Too late."  Or maybe they're thinking "I hope we get a nice breeze, cuz homie next to me STINKS!"  Little Canyon is a converted horse trailer, one that could hold two horses, all their gear and leave room for a cowboy to sleep.  Looking at the folks inside working in such spaciousness gave Dad confidence that all were focused making the best food they knew how.

We perused the brief menu and settled on two burritos.  Before we even began, the girl taking orders said, "You guys are vegan, right?" Yes. "Lorin told me he met this cool couple yesterday.  We can definitely do the burritos vegan..." Spacious kitchen inspiring confidence?  Ha! Nothing inspires confidence quite like being treated like celebrities!  This girl was Michaela, Lorin's girlfriend and business partner.  In between taking orders, handing out food and cleaning up, she gave us directions to a nice secluded swimming hole in the forest.  It would also be her father's land that we would camp on for the remainder of our stay.  Suffice it to say we felt like we were swimming in kindness and generosity that more than equaled any river.

The burritos were so delicious we got two more to eat on our swimming trip.  After sorting out the evening plan (just give us a call and we'll take you up), we ventured south into the forest.  Two years prior, there had been a pretty severe burn.  The swimming hole was located within the burn area.  Though perhaps not quite as picturesque as it once was, there was a beauty in the barren.  Grazing cows were easy to spot as were some fairly hefty birds.  I took the opportunity to note where the moon and sun were relative to each other in anticipation of their eventual full conjunction.

We bypassed the swimming hole slightly to what looked like a previous camp site.  What it sacrificed in water play, it made up for in dining comfort.  Some cut tree stumps made for nice chairs and tables, albeit awkwardly placed ones.  Dog got to frolic in a river for the first time in her life.  Though wobbly with age, she just kept wanting to go back in.  Mom and Child did the same, sans wobbliness.  Dad just sat and relaxed, alternating between sips of water, taking photos and doing Peter Gibbons's proverbial nothing.

Elderly Dog wobbling through the river

Unable to think of a reason not to charge the car, we headed back to the Chamber of Commerce after.  Mom and Child took a walk while electrons streamed from one side of the battery to the other.  Among other things, this walk included the first of what would become four consecutive days of Snow Cones for Child, one a day until we left town.  Much swimming gear had been purchased for use in the swimming hole.  It had gone unused.  The only option now was the public swimming pool. Mom also wanted to keep cool, so a 2nd water outing was embarked upon.  Dad stayed with the car, hoping to sleep.  A luxury sports car packed full of camping gear wasn't terribly comfortable, so he took Dog for a walk to the park, checked in with Mom and slept on the grass in the park instead.

At this point, we called Lorin to make sure we had a place to stay for the night.  Knowing we had to head to Canyon City, we let Child work off yet more energy in the park.  Lorin came by on a small motorcycle and asked if we had dinner plans.  We did.  However, just about anything sounded better than sitting around by ourselves eating nuts and dried fruit, so we said no.  It turns out Russ's cousin Bailey, a Japanese restaurant operator in from Washington for the eclipse, was making sushi and had been informed vegan guests would be coming.  The hike up to Russ's and the entire evening was where Mom and Child's relation with Michaela really blossomed.  Thrift stores and the secondary market in general got things off to a great start and various recreational activities at Russ's (mostly a Slackline) brought Child and Michaela together.  Dad got to know Russ's folks and Paul, a friend of Lorin's from his Portland days.  Food was magnificent.  Conversation flowed with beer and hearty topics like the outdoors and metal fabrication.  Child even put on a show, doing every animal she knew and Fat Guy In a Little Coat.  Before we knew it, night had fallen and it was time to head up to Michaela's dad's place.  We slept in the car again, much more peacefully with threat of hassling lowered significantly and without the constraint of fitting everything back into the car.