Saturday, 3-3-07, was a beautiful day but Judy and I had already made plans to cut and split an Oak tree that we had cut down because it was rotten to the core. That's the way these dog-gone Oak trees do, they rot from the inside. This tree had a 28" diameter but the skin was only 1½ to 2 inches thick in spots. The tree was about 50/60 feet tall and could have come down anytime.
Saturday evening we rode the bike over to JJ North, GP, and met with Marty, Carmen, Johnny, Lou, Betty & Ken for dinner and conversation. A great way to relax after a hard day cutting/splitting wood.
Judy has been relentless about wanting to support the local Indians and I couldn't hold out any longer. Sunday was another beautiful day so I rode the bike to breakfast and then around the local area while waiting for Judy to get up and face the world.
I knew that we had all of the tree branches and remains to load up and take to the dump but this day was too nice to waste and it presented a perfect opportunity for me to gain lots of points with Judy. When I got home I asked her if she would like to take the Corvette and drive to 7 Feathers for lunch. Well, you can guess the answer to that stupid question.
We arrived at 7 Feathers and hit the slots for an hour before going to the buffet for a great prime rib lunch (Judy had a Hot Turkey Sandwich). After lunch I had already made my donations but Judy wanted to give just a little more so I went out to keep Jim (our dog) company. On the way out the casino had a power failure and two casino employees came running past me, said something about the 4th floor and one took the elevator while the other took the stairs (the power had come back on).
I wasn't outside very long when Judy came back and said she had won 600 nickels.
We left and on our way home stopped at the Graves Creek Museum in Sunny Valley and got a private tour and history lesson. In the fall of 1846, the first emigrant train from Fort Hall, Idaho, to travel the southern route to the Willamette Valley camped on the north side of this creek, then Woodpile Creek. Martha Leland Crowley, 16 years old died of typhoid fever during this encampment and was buried 150 feet north of the creek on the east side under a white oak tree that was later removed for the present roadway, thus the name "Grave Creek".
After our tour we drove to the covered bridge and viewed the site where Martha Leland Crowley in now buried.
From the covered bridge I drove Judy to a site that I learned about just outside the Sportsman Pistol/Rifle range and showed Judy the gravesite of another pioneer who was buried along the trailside 10 years after Martha. Best I can remember his name was A.W. Hood and he was 40 years old when buried on Sept. 22, 1857.
Well that took up a full day and we enjoyed it very much.
Now, if we're really selective, we can start picking out some great riding days in between the rains. Don't be surprised if you receive a Saturday morning phone call saying that the sun is shinning and lets go take advantage of it.