The Bugs Are Biting
I was molested last night. We crossed from Nevada into Oregon as night draped the horizon. Like on some stage cue, the mosquitos decorated our windshield with a sound similar to raindrops. And Takoda shifted in his crate. He wanted out. I begged Ryan to take him. My allergies had flared and if anyone is going to be like honey to bees it’s me to skeeters. Those damn f*&kers love munching on me. But Ryan refused. He’s your dog, was the attitude.
By the time I desperately scrambled back into the car I had three bites on my back, two on each arm, one on my forehead and (somehow) one on my knee. Notice I’m wearing pants. Our quickie dinner at the Pizza Villa in Lakeview put us back on the road at 11 p.m. The patty melt was just ok but the owner was a hoot. He stood at our table reveling in stories about Kentucky, Jackson Hole (his grandfather owned that barn you see in all the photos of the Tetons), riding motorcycles, retiring from the logging industry in Lakeview to open this restaurant.
We checked into America’s Best Inns and Suites in Klamath Falls at 1 a.m.
The small bathroom was clean, the king bed incredibly inviting at this point and a pleasant surprise for Ryan for $54. I showered off all the allergens (I was sneezing my head off from the minute we hit Oregon and here I thought my allergies would dissipate after leaving Utah!) and crawled into bed. Sage and Ryan were already sound asleep.
After a huge breakfast at Starvn Marvn’s, some mappin’ and shoppin’ for Cutter Bugspray, we headed for Crater Lake National Park and Takoda’s first taste of snow. I bet folks in Utah would appreciate the chilly 52 degrees about now. We walked around but chose not to hike after missing the trailhead. Onward, always onward.