Tag Archives: travel

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Bananafish

As I say in the Ragtag Daily Prompt yesterday, I go for a float on the New River near Floyd, Virginia, with my cousin Steve and his wife Dyane. Steve says, “Let’s go for a float on Saturday.” I am picturing myself in an inner tube with a beer, very very relaxed.

On the day of the float, Steve says, “Do you want to fish?”

“Sure”,” I say. He is a pro fishing guide and I was not trying to angle a guided fishing trip. Also, I have not fished for years and have only attempted a fly rod once. And I was informed that I was terrible at it.

On the way to the New River, with Steve driving like a banshee and the boat trailer howling behind us, Steve says, “You have to get a fishing license. Go on line.”

Why do I need a fishing license? I won’t catch anything. I don’t know what I am doing. I struggle with my phone as the truck whips down the two lane roads and I get a three day fishing license for the State of Virginia.

We go to the New River and unload the boat. “This is the second oldest river in the world. The oldest is the Nile. They both flow North.” I am wondering how you “age” a river, but we are unloading the boat and fly fishing gear. No beer, sigh. I can’t drink it anyhow unless it is gluten free.

Steve’s son ferries the truck and trailer to the take out, and we are off in the boat. It’s a beautiful little boat, with a fishing seat in the front and a seat in the back and Steve is in the middle, rowing just enough to keep us 30 feet from the bank. Exactly.

“You remember how to cast, right.” says Steve, handing me a fishing pole. A fly fishing pole. The fly is about three inches long, has deadly looking hooks, and bubbles when you reel it in. “It drives the fish insane, so they hit it,” says Steve.

“Well, um. I pull on the line, right, and there is something you flip to let it loose?”

“Didn’t grandpa teach you to cast?”

“No, never.” My father and paternal grandfather did not get along and we didn’t visit much. I thought that Grandpa just was not interested in teaching girls to fish, but my aunt says, no, he was afraid of my father. They never made up.

Steve gives me a minute of instruction and I start casting. I am in the back of the boat, thank goodness. I am more worried about catching myself or my cousins or the boat or a tree, and can’t imagine catching a fish. The lure is a Whopper Plopper which bubbles pleasantly as I reel it in. I am quite terrible but don’t hook myself. Steve and Dyane take turns rowing and they are really really good. Steve is using a cork bug, a handmade and painted “popper”. He lands it on the water as light as a bit of dandelion fluff.

I am instructed to pull if I get a hit. Much to my surprise I get a hit and I pull, mostly because it startles and scares me. That fish gets off. The second fish hits Dyane’s line and she reels it in. I want a picture of a fish. Steve holds up the little smallmouth bass. Might not want that photograph for advertising, cuz. Back into the water it goes. Dyane catches another. I catch a fairly good sized one and here is the picture. I am just as surprised as I look, surprised that I caught a fish.

Now Dyane rows for a while. Steve fishes off the front, waving his pole and dropping the fly one foot from the bank. He is telling Dyane, “Watch the current and the wind, you want to anticipate so the boat is neither too close nor too far from shore.” I had asked if there were any rapids. No, says Steve. I have my big camera, because we are not going to tip over.

Storm clouds are building up. There is some thunder. It isn’t raining yet.

No fish for a bit. We come to a small side stream. Steve is rowing. He says, “Hey, this is where someone caught a Muskie last time we were out. I’m just going to drop a line in.” I have stopped fishing for the moment because I am tired and getting clumsy and I want to snack and take photographs. Steve picks up the pole with the Whopper Plopper and drops the lure in to the mouth of the stream and WHAM, a fish hits immediately. It is BIG.

“Row into the stream where it’s cooler, Dyane!” yells Steve. I grab the net. “No,” says Steve, “That net is too small.” I put it down and plop back on my seat, Steve is fighting the fish and Dyane climbs into the rowing seat and moves us towards the stream.

The fish is calmer in the cold, I guess. Or tired. Steve climbs out of the boat, picks up the Muskie and gently takes the hooks out. It looks like an alligator without legs. The head is all mouth and teeth and the whole fish is a yard long. (There is more lightning and thunder and closer. I am thinking the F word.) Steve puts it back in the water as soon as I snap pictures. “Gotta make sure it’s ok,” says Steve, watching the legless alligator sit on the stream bed. It looks grumpy. There are two more in the water by the boat.

BLAM! LIGHTNING HITS THE FIELD BEHIND STEVE SIMULTANEOUS WITH THUNDER AND HE JUMPS. “OH!” he says, “I FELT that. I just got hit by lightning!”

“Are you ok?” then I look in the water. “Are the fish floating belly up?” No, they are not. Steve is not burned, just a shock traveling through the earth and the water. “CAN WE GO NOW?” I say, “ROW!” There is now a shit ton of lightning all around us with thunder at the same time and the rain starts. I’ve got my camera in plastic right away, but I am eyeing the metal in the boat. “Is that conductive?” I say, as Steve starts rowing with the current.

“Hell, yeah,” says Steve. I am trying not to touch any of the metal in the boat, holy crap, ROW, get me OUT of here. Shore is no safer and now it’s pouring. Warm, but the LIGHTNING.

Steve is still pretty amazed, “I was hit by lightning!” Dyane and I just mutter “row”. The lightning moves further away with the edge of the storm and now it’s just raining a soaker rain.

The rain starts to let up a little. “Anyone wanna fish again?” says Steve.

“NO! There might be lightning at the back edge of the storm. ROW, please.”

Steve gets a phone call about the guiding the next day. I reach forward and try to keep rowing with one oar (I am DONE with this float) and he gets off the phone reasonably soon and rows again.

We arrive at the take out, with the tail edge of the storm passing over us (the back?) and one of his partner guides is loading their boat back onto the trailer. “Hey!” says Steve, “I got hit by lightning!” He tells them about it and then gets the truck and trailer. We pull the gear out of the boat. BAM! There is another big lightning strike right across the river, but none of us are in the water. Phew. I get in the truck. I’m not cold but very wet. I do have a change of clothes and a towel. We had planned to swim, but the lightning dissuaded Dyane and me.

We drove the truck back to the house and both Dyane and I had a small glass of wine. A friend has been motorcycling around the country and he told me about five different people killed by lightening in a thunderstorm up around Chicago. He had gotten off the bike and gone for shelter. Good decision!

Next morning we are all up making coffee and discussing breakfast, when Steve looks at Dyane. “It was the BANANAS!” he says.

“What?” I say.

“BANANAS!” says Steve.

“Oh!” says Dyane. “I forgot1”

“What?” I say again.

Steve explains. “Bananas are bad luck on boats. It’s a really old superstition. Dyane packed two bananas and you ate one and she ate one. You can’t take bananas on fishing boats.” I look it up. Here: https://www.aquamarinepower.com/bananas-on-a-boat/ . It dates to the 1700s. No bananas on fishing boats.

And that is my bananafish story.

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The photograph is my cousin Steve as he casts right before the Muskie hits, with Dyane and with the storm clouds piling up down river.

Here is his fly fishing site: https://newriverflyfish.com/

A day late, but for the Ragtag Daily Prompt: fishing. You will see the Muskie on the RDP site from yesterday. But today’s post also fits today’s prompt: cloudy!

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Scree dream

In September, I hike with the three friends in the Ragtag Daily Prompt photograph. I have not really backpacked into back country in years. The last time I carried the pack was in Italy with my daughter, a few years ago. She wanted to plan the trip as we went and stay in hostels. We did.

We hike in the first day, up switchbacks from the parking lot at about 3200 feet, to a pass at 5400 feet, over and down to a campsite. The sites for cooking are separate from the sleeping sites and there are serious big metal bear boxes. We are to put everything in them, including the deet and toothpaste and anything that could possibly interest a bear.

We pack day packs the second day and climb back up to the pass. We peel off there to the trail to Sahalie Glacier. After being on oxygen at sea level for a year and a half, I am beyond delighted that I can actually do this. We go up and up and the trail gets worse and worse, until it is rather nasty scree. Two other people coming down say it is even worse, slippery, unstable, if we go on.

So, like sensible people, we stop for lunch. The slope is very steep and we each find a place to perch. Lunch tastes good. Then the other three want to go on. I don’t. I want a nap. They go on, I find a slab and the view from it is the photograph: down, down, down to the lake far below.

They will get me on the way back down.

And I do go to sleep. It’s all that night time call I’ve taken over years and years. I can sleep practically anywhere, including in a noisy casino in the past. I tuck up against the rock and the sun is almost warm.

I wake up. Two other people have come by. My inner clock thinks my people should have come by. Do I wait? Do I stay? There are more ominous clouds building up and this will be much more slick and dangerous if it starts raining. And we are exposed, for lightening.

Then I see a hat, on a curve of trail below me, moving. I swear it’s one of my party. But how did they go by without seeing me or waking me. THEY ARE DITCHING ME ON THE MOUNTAIN. No, that is ridiculous. Hmm. She is not with either of the guys. I debate for a minute, shout and then grab my things and head down.

I catch her. Once they left me, there really was not a clear trail. There were multiple sort of trails. And it was tricky. They separated a bit. She lost track of the other two and then picked the least difficult way down, which seemed to be a trail. It was NOT the trail that went by me, but she didn’t know that.

We found one of the guys below us, waiting. The last came down a bit later. None of them had come on the “right” trail by me. We headed down and stopped to put on rain gear. It rained lots! We were also above the tree line, but also I would say that we were above the marmot line. We saw eight hoary marmots marmoting around on our way down. They did not seem deterred by rain at all.

So that is how I was left in the scree to dream. I would have returned by the time it started raining anyhow, and the trail was good once we got past the scree. Not all the way to the lake in the photograph, the trail ran along a ridge that is not in the picture and wound down near the lake.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: scree.

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Done and undone

I am done with my third Grand Junction travel doctor assignment and packing to go home. I don’t think much of my temp company at the moment. I had to nag them for two weeks regarding the travel plans. I had to call both airlines (one hour 18 minutes and one hour 38 minutes) to be sure that taking Sol Duc on board the plane is arranged (it wasn’t). I called the hotel for the day between planes and they do not take pets. I called the company that takes me from the airport the last two hours home and they DID know about the cat. One out of four. They finally switched the hotel on Friday, the last day of work.

Then at 5:18 pm I am sent an email saying I have to vacate on the 19th. The first plane is on the 21st. It was sent by the rep who is covering me and knew the travel arrangements are for the 21st. I am glad that I pay way more attention to detail as a physician than they do to my travel and housing. They frankly suck. And I am not vacating until Monday. They may charge me at which point I will say they need to pay me for spending more than 5 hours fixing their travel screw ups.

I did say to the rep on Friday, “Well, if it’s not arranged today, I will just call the emergency travel line at 5:01 pm. They will help me.” The emergency travel folks cost them more money. That apparently caused them to do the last arrangements. I am doing the travel in two days because otherwise my cat would be in the carrier for 12 or more hours. That is not reasonable.

I am done except for travel home. Today I finish packing and cleaning.

The photograph is Sol Duc in front of our rental house yesterday. I think she will miss the heat here. She seems to quite enjoy 90+ degrees.

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For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: done.

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Experience

Friday I left for the Fourth of July, but not for fireworks. I went to help pack for a move. My family moved every 1-5 years through my childhood, and then I moved too. College, work, work, medical school, residency, first doctor job. Second job and I stuck: I have not moved for 25 years. Travel yes, move no. But like Martha, I am thinking about all those books! I am working on cutting them down to size and many fewer favorites.

Anyhow, I have quite a bit of experience packing and moving. When my family moved from upstate New York to Alexandria, Virginia, the movers stacked the plates with newsprint between. Every single plate in the pile broke. My mother was furious. She said the packers should have nested them on their sides, so they don’t break the one below. We shall see if my experience is useful or not.

I bubble wrapped this lamp and then packed it in a big box with more bubble wrap and a lot of t-shirts. Yes, I should take the shade of but it would have required a special tool that we didn’t have. Or a trip to a lamp store. There was not enough time. The moving truck comes Wednesday or Thursday. We were nearly done when I left to drive back to Grand Junction. Newsprint, bubble wrap, a pack for glasses and quite a few boxes. I hope it all makes it!

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: pack.

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Taste

I am back in Colorado for another work stint.

I am in a different house.

I am in a neighborhood, of cul de sacs that don’t connect. My house is quiet in front but backs on a very busy road, an artery. The speed limit is 40 mph but people often go faster.

The house seems odd to me. There are curtains and shades on every window, all closed when I arrived. I open them, because I like light. There is a 3 by 4 foot television in the living room, another in the master bedroom and a third in a guest bedroom. There is a large kitchen with tons of shelves and cupboards, but a table only seats two, and there are two more chairs at the counter. This feels very odd to me. It seems as if the whole house is arranged to watch television.

I go for a walk in the neighborhood. There are many houses. There are beautifully trimmed lawns and there are flowers and some roses. What is missing? There are no people. Walking a mile and a half, finding the mostly hidden corridors from one cul de sac to the next, I see one man working on his lawn. Even though it is Saturday afternoon, I seen no children, no dogs, no toys. I see two garages that are open, one with a man and in the second I hear a child. Why are there beautiful lawns and no people? And many of the lawns have little flags saying, poison sprayed.

I do turn on one of the televisions after my first day of work. The living room one says that the antenna is not hooked up. The guest bedroom one works. I look on the service. Nearly every movie is about violence and conflict.

I do a little research on the internet. I go to the library and take out 8 books. One is Nonviolent Communication, by Marshall Rosenberg, PhD. Most of the others are fiction. Yet so much fiction is about conflict too. Good triumphing over evil. I am pretty good at nonviolent communication in clinic after 30 years: I want to meet each patient somewhere that is helpful. Sometimes they don’t like what I find, or don’t want to do what I recommend, but I have a deep and abiding faith that everyone can change, that they are smart, that I can make a difference and that they are capable. I think that belief helps daily in clinic.

I choose this book because I want to be better. Some of my family is estranged. I thought that was rare and horrifying at first, years ago. Now I think that it is horrifyingly common, much more common than I realized. How do we heal this? What can we change? I don’t want to be in a dark house with the shades down watching “good” triumph violently over “evil”.

There is a pond, man made, with a fence around it, half a block from my house. There are two male mallards, a female, and eight ducklings. They are fuzzy and delightful. I stop my car and watch the first time I see them, and I walk over too.

I haven’t seen anyone else there. I think we can change. I have hope. I have a deep and abiding faith that we can change.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: garlic.

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Arrive and engage

Home again! I came home from Grand Junction, Colorado via Denver. Wrong direction and an additional 440 miles, more or less. I spent two nights at my daughter’s home and she and her boyfriend took me to the Botanic Gardens and to a birthday high tea at the fabulous Brown Palace Hotel. I guessed it was built in 1880. Close: 1892. We had tea in the atrium with ten or more stories above us, balconies all around and stained glass at the top. Quite gorgeous.

From Denver, I drove north and then northwest, Colorado, Wyoming, Idaho, Oregon and Washington. The pass in Wyoming had sleet and slush, terrible visibility and ice on the road. The speed limit was 35 and everyone ignored it. That was my second day and over 400 miles and both the cat and I were very glad to arrive at the hotel. Sol Duc complained quite a lot the first day and then settled down.

Driving into Oregon over another pass, suddenly it is green. Shades of brown before that but once over the pass, bright startling green. In Washington, Snoqualmie Pass brings the smell of the Salish Sea and we are close to home! We left Denver on Monday and arrive in Port Townsend on Thursday afternoon, delighted to get out of the car.

And hooray for being home! It was a little disorienting after being gone for most of eleven months. I miss Elwha cat and I think Sol Duc wondered if he was in the house too. A friend came over and brought some staples and another friend dropped off my first CSA farm box, from Wednesday! How wonderful!

On Friday I went to walk with another friend downtown, while her husband and daughter went scuba diving. The alpacas were downtown, being socialized and wading in the sound. They have very expressive ears and clearly the sound tasted peculiar. They were all well behaved and so were we.

Home, arrived and engaged already, alpacas, friends and demonstrations against P47’s insanity.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: arrive and engage.

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Purity’s post

The root word for Katherine is pure, so Purity will write today’s post. Purity read about illeism in this BBC article: https://www.bbc.com/worklife/article/20230411-illeism-the-ancient-trick-to-help-you-think-more-wisely. Purity admits that it feels a bit embarrassing to write in the third person here on the blog, very egotistical, but that is not what the article is about. It is about writing that way in one’s journal. Purity has been trying it and it is interesting. It sets events at a distance and quiets and muffles the emotions related to events. How very curious.

Purity does not plan to keep writing this way on the blog nor does she plan to start speaking with a royal we. However, the United States appears to be in a state of chaotic stupidity and it is affecting everyone. Not just in the United States, but the rest of the world as well. Purity thinks of the United States as a teenage country, struggling with hormones, while the old countries stand back, watch and sigh. “At some point he will mature,” they say to each other. “Or destroy himself.” And yes, a male teenage country, stupid and boastful with testosterone. Purity thinks it will take the United States another 200 years to live down President #47 and his minions, if we survive.

At any rate, Purity hopes that the prompt of illeism might be more light hearted and be a new word to some people and tickle their fancies. Apparently our fancies mostly lie in our cats. Cats certainly seem to be experts in illeism. May you each feel as wonderful today as a cat when they own the world.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: illiesm.

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Unweighted

Words behind my back
damaging
hurtful
gossip and lies
I forgive
I wait

I wait

I wait, wait, weight

Weighted 13 years
For them to speak to me
Instead of about me
At last waiting makes me angry
I have forgiven
tried to connect
some of them say they love me
this is not love
waiting
weight of hurt and anger

And I let go
of the wait
of the weight

I forgive myself
I am free
I rise
I let them go
they are forgiven
but they may not enter my life
again
not ever

I forgive myself
I am free
I rise

unweighted

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For the Ragtag Daily Prompts: weight and chopper. My heart is what is chopped, and the abandoning friends and family wielded the choppers.

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Travel risks

The President is withdrawing the United States from the World Health Organization. https://www.whitehouse.gov/presidential-actions/2025/01/withdrawing-the-united-states-from-the-worldhealth-organization/

Here is the link to write to the President: https://www.45office.com/contact/

I am writing daily, just not for the Ragtag Daily Prompt. Here is my short note today:

Dear President Trump: I strongly disagree with withdrawing the United States from the World Health Organization. One function of that organization is travel clinics. If a person is traveling to another country, they can find out what illnesses are present there and get immunizations and advice to avoid getting ill. This also helps physicians treat people who have returned from another country. The physician can contact a state health department which is in turn connected to the World Health Organization. This is a foolish, dramatic and unscientific decision on your part. I suggest that you reverse it immediately or resign as President.

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The question I have, is he closing the borders to United States citizens too? Without the travel clinics, who get information about each country from the World Health Organization, aren’t even our own state department employees at higher risk for illness? My son was an exchange student to southern Thailand. At the time he went, there was Japanese encephalitis. He was there two years after the tsunami. He got vaccinated for Japanese encephalitis before he went and he also took medicine to avoid malaria. So, are we not going to send or accept any more exchange students?

I strongly disagree with the decision to leave the World Health Organization and our country is on the verge of crazy.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: verge.

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Clinic comedy

Yesterday was my second day in the third clinic in this system and the day went a bit sideways. I am in seeing a person with their spouse. We are all masked because this is a sick visit. I try to wear a mask for all the visits but occasionally take it off if someone really can’t hear me. I go to wash my hands. The sink is small and turns on by a motion sensor. It is supposed to turn itself off. It goes on but then will not turn off and is loud. I send a quick message to the clinic director after flailing at it a bit. Why a message? The cabinet under the sink is locked, so I can’t turn the water off. With my patient slightly deaf and masks and loud water, I finish the visit trying to yell things. Ridiculous and embarrassing but funny. The patient and spouse are older and know that things break. They are not upset. The clinic director arrives, has her try at flailing at the sensor, unlocks the cabinet and turns the water off.

I shake hands with my patient and they and their spouse leave. We are in room three. I go in room 4 to wash my hands, since my patient was blowing their nose, and guess what? Yes, the water turns on and won’t turn off. I get the clinic manager. “I broke the second sink. How about I go home now?”

She laughs. “I will put in a ticket for maintenance.” She unlocks the room 4 sink and turns it off. Now we have two rooms out of commission!

I am covering for Dr. X. “See, this just shows that I wash my hands and Dr. X didn’t.” Not really. Dr. X has been out for a month already.

“Maybe it’s because they haven’t been used in a month,” says the medical assistant. We shut down those two rooms and I go into room 2 with some trepidation. The sink does not break.

Maintenance show up early afternoon and replaces the sink sensor batteries in room 3 and 4. They work just fine after that. It turns out that there are two other sinks not working, but there are patient visits going on, so maintenance will come back. The alcohol hand sanitizer makes my hands itch, so I prefer soap and water.

Isn’t technology great? Except when it breaks. I felt silly and helpless, since I was in a brand new place and the cabinets were locked!

I admonish all the doctors, do wash your hands! Even if the sink batteries need to be replaced more often.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: admonish.