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   The not-so-dog days of summer begged a bike ride.  These last days before the fall piano schedule starts, and  AMNH obligations loom, need to be savored like that last piece of chocolate cake,  the last drop of water in the bottle on a hot summer day.  All Linda had to say was let’s go, and I was there.  Here’s a phone photo of Caulin and his friend Maggie, who braved a day on the trail with a couple of middle-aged fogies.  Maggie’s about to start college, and Caulin’s a high school senior.  Oh the places they’ll go…Thanks for the ride!

  We’ve driven by this place dozens and dozens of times, but haven’t stopped to walk around it until today.  This is the Last Encampment of the Continental Army–their last miserable camp, even with their wives and children.  

  The stones line the hut sites.  Sometimes folks dress in period garb and have ceremonies here.  There is a large bell in a bell tower, erected 200 years after the soldiers were freed to go home, at last, after the long war.  Randy rang it.  A lot.  I wonder how the neighbors liked it.  I did.  Huzzah!

  Happy Birthday to Dad.  He’s 89 years old today.  He’s doing pretty well, considering.  I look forward to seeing him next month.

Bear update:  It appears that we have not one, but several bears.  And I’ve yet to see even one.  There is a mama and cub, and at least one single bear.  The cub was last seen about a quarter of a mile from our house.  The single bear was last seen on the corner of Ahern and North.  The mama was in the backyard of a house on East Main.  Another bear was closer to the intersection of Ahern and 94.  Some kids on bikes chased the cub up a tree at Memorial Park.  Anyway, that’s what the guys at the local police station told me.  I talked to two geezers who saw two of the bears.  The local authorities have decided not to try to relocate them, because they just keep coming back.  The Village Bears. 

  Here’s Allan, age about 16 months, Christmas 1953.  You do the math.  He’s having a birthday on the 4th of this month.  Happy Birthday, Allan!  I think Mother put his clothes on backwards, but I’m not sure.

   September 2001, Oregon Coast bike ride.  Randy and Allan are either fixing a flat tire or doing the chicken dance.  I’m not sure which.  Maybe a little of both.  That was a fun day.  A fun ride.  Joyce and I leisurely rode up and down all day, chatting and ocean viewing.  Wanna do it again, Allan?  I do.  Three times is not enough.

   Randy, Joyce, and in the back, Allan.  Top of a very long and steep grade up Umpqua way.  When it’s foggy, this is surreal.  I limped in after everyone else on this climb, of course.  But I had the energy to take photos.

     Wish I was going there with Joyce this month.  She’s celebrating her birthday with a return visit, but I doubt she’s taking her bike.  Maybe.  Who would she giggle with, though? 

  More bears.  I’ve been walking in the morning at around 6:30 or so, most often to the Washingtonville cemetery and parts there around.  One of these days I’m going to see this bear. (Well, not this one in the photo.  That is a Yellowstone bear.)  The Village of Washingtonville (how redundant is that?) called again today to tell us all that bears had been sighted within 1/4-1/2 mile of our house.  This summer we’ve seen muskrats, many many deer, turkeys, ground hogs, rabbits, snappers, and who knows what else lurking in the swamp, but no bears.  Yet.  Wish me luck.

Congratulations, Bones, on surviving the BAR.  And the earthquake.