We visited Athens, Georgia last year, so why not Athens, Greece this year? We just completed a 5 day trip to Athens to handle Steven’s Greek family business. We relied heavily on our niece Mel, a Greek attorney and MBA (below) to help translate for us during a 5 hour appearance before the Supreme Court of Greece sitting “en banc” (eg. 8 men and one woman in funny hats), and several long meetings with the assigned attorneys.

However, we had some free hours to enjoy the full moon over the Aegean from our waterfront hotel balcony, great food, lively family, and a few delightful tourist experiences:

Gorgeous marble on the public buildings (and see feature image)…

Dionysos strutting his stuff at the Acropolis Museum (removed from the East Pediment of the Parthenon)…

Fresh Mediterranean seafood, and grilled Haloumi Cheese, a hard, brined Cypriot cheese…

The winner of the Monty Python funny walk contest…the changing of the guard at Parliament…and even better….the 10 minute, “Knifing the Pleats” performed by a senior officer while the boyish guard got his skirt fiddled with, without even a tiny smile or giggle…

Swimming in a collapsed limestone cavern in warm clear mineral spring water, complete with a fish pedicure by the Garra Rufa fish at Lake Vouliagmeni…

and the simple enjoyment of strolling narrow streets below the Acropolis on a quiet Sunday morning…

including a visit to the Greek version of the Guitar Center…

hearing part of a mass at a Greek Orthodox Church…

and a stroll past the 4 story McDonald’s with uberstylish Eames knock-off seating.

With almost a million residents, Athens is a big city, not the predicted location for street dogs. The oddest thing though, is the existence of LOTS of street dogs downtown and at the metro stations. Unusually, all are overfed, and all of them are of the very BIG DOG variety eg. over 60 pounds.  They don’t beg for food, just lie in the sun and sleep. There were no dogs needing rescuing, none dodging traffic, and some of them even had collars. The Greek economy remains in sorry shape, but the street dogs are thriving…maybe that is some kind of sunny economic indicator?

As “City” and “Outskirts” dwellers, we really appreciate visits to our extended families who live in the country. It gives us an opportunity to hike, shop, and eat in small town settings and spend more time outdoors. Oroville sits on a plateau at the junction of the Sierra Nevada Range, the Central Valley, and the metamorphic Cascade Range. We enjoyed wildflowers on Table Mountain, a flat volcanic mound above the town of Oroville, with great views of the Buttes in the distance…

a covered bridge on the side of Table Mountain…

and a leisurely walk along the Feather River with Steven’s sister, before hitting the “Ashtray Museum”. I forgot that ashtrays used to include huge, ugly ceramic platters in Avocado and Harvest Gold from the 50’s, with places to lodge burning cigarettes, maximizing the second hand smoke damage to loved ones….but that generation did know how to mix cocktails! Some of the oldest people I ever met drank whiskey and smoked to their last day….maybe the combination was medicinal?

One of the first gold mining sites in California, “Bidwell Bar” is buried under 3.5 million acre feet of water in Lake Oroville, perched atop the town. As the second largest water reservoir in California, it is crucial to our state’s ability to survive our 3rd year of drought this summer. Oroville Dam is the 20th largest dam in the world, and both the tallest and largest earth filled dam in the U.S. Originally named Ophir City, Oroville was established at the navigable head of the Feather River to transport goods from San Francisco and Sacramento to miners. The Chinese community thrived here supporting both mining and the building of rail lines over the Sierra Nevada.  The “California Zephyr” chugged through here for 20 years. Once the largest Chinatown in California, the Flood of 1907 destroyed the community but left the Chinese Temple, built in 1863. Today it is a museum dedicated to the original practices in the temple: Buddhism, Taoism, and Confucianism, with a large  meeting room for chinese community activities. Gold was at the heart of all commerce and an intact gold assay office was preserved as well.

Exhibition halls with ceremonial clothing and arts are surrounded by shady gardens with blooming camellias and sculpture.

 Memorable residents are celebrated here: 1) Ishi, the last Stone Age Indian who wandered out of the mountains here, malnourished and mentally ill in 1911; 2) Freda Ehmann, a suffragette and friend of Susan B. Anthony, who established the world’s largest canned olive factory in Oroville; and 3) the “Mother Orange Tree”, the oldest of all Northern California orange trees.

Even without enjoying the expansive Lake Oroville for swimming, boating and fishing, this is one sweet little town with an interesting history. The town is still waiting for the State of California to keep its promise to pay taxes and develop the Lake’s recreational potential in exchange for taking much of the Lake’s overflow to Southern California to water pools and golf courses in the otherwise desert conditions there. Maybe it is time for more “Water Wars”.

“RHODA”, our 2000 Roadtrek 170 Popular has been our home for 13 months of cross-country and Canadian travel, and several week-long West Coast road trips. We love that this small Canadian motor home was small enough to park in all standard city-marked parking spaces, even with 2 bikes and a tire mounted on the back, bringing it to 19 ft length. It also provided good mileage, many of the creature comforts you miss when tent camping, and was easy to drive. It became our only vehicle, small enough for around town use also. We would put a halo around her in the photo if we could, instead she just gets a sacred setting in a show of appreciation for all the great miles she gave us.

However, the bed was just too darn small for a 6 ft.+ tall guy, and a 5’5″ gal.  Our enthusiasm for heading out in April 2014 for a 6 month road trip to Western Canada and Alaska was tempered by a horrible case of…. “BED DREAD”. The solution? Buy another Roadtrek, only 8 inches longer and reconfigured with a Queen size bed. The Roadtrek we wanted was only made in 2007: a 5 cylinder Mercedes Benz diesel engine for 23 mpg highway driving, only 8 inches longer than “RHODA”, and a foot taller so Steven could stand at full height.

We are pleased to introduce “DEE-DEE” (our first diesel vehicle), our new 2007 Roadtrek Agile SS. We saw this model being made when we visited the Roadtrek factory in Canada last year so we knew just what we wanted. This 2007 rig is very hard to find as the Agile SS (for ‘short Sprinter’) in later years got bigger engines and longer chassis. Miraculously, we found it the first night we looked, in our price range, only 24,000 miles on the odometer, well cared for, and in Washington State.

We jumped on it, and were rewarded with the vehicle of our dreams. How sweet it is! Dee-Dee is one grand ride…and a great bed!  We are so-o-o-o happy that the ‘Vancouver Gals’ (sellers) and our ‘Portland Gals’ (pals/provisioners) and Sal’s mom (interim loan provider) allowed us to move quickly to complete the transaction in just a few days, before someone else snatched Dee-Dee out of our hands. With brisk action on our Craigslist ad for Rhoda, we quickly sold her to the “San Francisco Gals”, but she is garaged just a mile away in Berkeley so we can still visit.

To test out Dee Dee, the 2007 Roadtrek, we quickly headed out for a one week road trip to the Central California Coast. She did not disappoint: more and bigger windows, 23 mpg, easy parking, and a big comfy bed as promised!  She even provides several things we don’t have at home: a convection oven (crispy thin sliced pizza, really fast, yippee!), TV, a fancy adjustable roof antenna, a bigger refrigerator, and a moveable electric sofa/bed that adjusts to all positions like a hospital bed.  After long hikes in the Nicene Marks Redwood Forest, we were only too happy to sit on our be-hinds watching the Winter Olympics so we could test the sound system, TV and antenna, and all the different bed/chaise lounge/sofa positions. Yes…it will definitely do. We will depart in late April for Inuvik, Northwest Territory, Canada, near the Arctic Ocean, arriving in early July (after 3500 miles on paved, and the final 481 miles on gravel roads) in time for the Great Northern Arts Festival. Wanna meet up in the Arctic this summer, in the Land of the Midnight Sun?

On the houseboat in Mission Creek, we have been residing in one of the denser parts of San Francisco: SOMA, or “South of Market”. It is where most of the new housing has been built, where most of the new technology businesses have been established, and where most of the City’s bicycle and pedestrian deaths by car collision occurred last year.

In addition, the University of California and the Mission Bay Development Co. have built, in only a few years, a huge bio-medical campus, hundreds of condos and student dorms, labs, and new medical hospitals for Kaiser Permanente and Children’s. The building noise and dust never stops….and the current construction focal point has been only a football field away behind the houseboat community. Two pile drivers pound away from 8 AM to 5 PM Monday-Friday, creating 4 blasts, that echoes back X 4 from the wall of concrete condominiums across the Creek. That’s about eight loud syncopated chaotic beats every two seconds. Intense. Nerve wracking. For the last months, the view from our parking area looked like this.

We left the boat for a week, and upon our return, the building had been leveled, and large equipment and rubble filled the space, readying the pile drivers for the next assault, now only 500 feet away! Although the spacious houseboat provides a huge space for Sally to paint very large canvases, we live in Albany during the week, returning on weekends for QUIET ENJOYMENT OF OUR HOME. We miss the graffiti too.

With a good long lease, and significant community support, our charming houseboat community is protected from eviction, even as the real estate values around us skyrocket.

This area used to be a haven for the homeless. Encampments of 20-30 people grow overnight next to our community garden, until they get rousted by the SFPD, after a lot of complaining by their neighbors, many weeks later. They have nowhere to go in this expensive city, and I could be more tolerant if they didn’t deposit their feces, garbage and abandoned goods along the public bike and pedestrian trails. They are often hostile and block the trail to keep the neighbors from seeing the piles of stolen bikes barely hidden under tarps. These encampments are traveling “chop shops” for bike parts. How do we know? Mostly children’s bikes are in evidence, yet nary a child is seen at the encampments. The chop shops exist because the SFPD has never developed a system for matching recovered bikes with the owners who filed bike theft police reports. Only recently has the SF Bicycle Coalition and the SFPD begun working together to make bike recovery/return a real possibility.  Perhaps with no stolen items to protect, the homeless here can become less hostile to the neighbors. We’re CHARMING, remember? For a newspaper article printed today and photos of our Mission Creek community, please go to this link: http://www.sfgate.com/default/article/S-F-s-plucky-floating-community-watches-waves-of-5281278.php#photo-5959370

We returned home October 1st, 2013 after 13 months, and 40,000 miles of travel in our 17 ft. Roadtrek.  After a great month at home in Albany, we moved across the Bay to San Francisco for two months…to live on one of the 20 San Francisco houseboats (“Floating Homes”).  Sally’s brother is a cruise ship physician…let’s see if you can guess the cruise line: 1) picture the whale tail smokestacks in red and blue; 2) recall the company with the stupidest Captain, driving his boat onto the rocks to show off for a friend ashore; and 3) the company with the cruise ship towed to shore in Mexico after an electric fire that wiped out all systems, escorted home by an aircraft carrier. Carnival! Fortunately, the last instance was my brother’s ship, and there were not only no medical emergencies, but passengers remained healthier than usual as passengers did not go ashore to eat and drink themselves into illness. With my brother at sea for months at a time, we were invited to housesit on the water in San Francisco. How sweet is that?

That last building at the far end of Mission Creek, sits on a big lagoon with water views out two sides. We are always pleased to see the CalTrans divers checking out the concrete pillars as we are the only boat…sitting…directly…under…the massive concrete freeway bridge. During an earthquake, if it goes, we go. Living on the water in a spacious home allowed us to entertain old friends, including those who arrived by boat.

The bird life is extraordinary, and the neighbors friendly. It is easy walking distance from our boat  (below on right in the shadow of the freeway) to AT&T Ballpark seen behind our boat. Humm Baby! Go you Gi-dogs! Let’s see a little bingo round the bases!

That means the entire Embarcadero is available for strolling, filled with sculpture, great restaurants and bars, views of the Bay Bridge with a nightly light show from LEDs set in the suspension cables…

…and of course, the tourists and citizens, in all their diversity of fashion and attitude, the best of City Life.

Our first few weeks involved walking 40 miles each week getting to favorite sites: Coit Tower on its’ 100th Birthday, Golden Gate Park with redwood trails, fountains, tea gardens, and museums, the Beach, Twin Peaks and 5 other hills, and favorite neighborhoods where we lived as young adults.

We walked with Steven’s nephew Mike, 13 miles, along the Bay and over the Golden Gate Bridge, along the water into Sausalito, taking a ferry back to a favorite cocktail place on the Embarcadero. We really earned those appies and Lemon Drop Martinis!

We also got extra lights for our bikes and our bodies and became San Francisco bicyclists, trying out new bike lanes, “The Wiggle” (a meandering ride from GG Park to Downtown, avoiding hills), “The Green Wave” (miles of an urban commute street with lights timed for bicyclists traveling at 14 mph) and valet bike parking at public events. Sally trained to be an Ambassador (eg. fundraiser extraordinaire) with the San Francisco Bicycle Coalition and enjoyed volunteering weekly. Sadly, four bicyclist deaths last year, in our SOMA neighborhood, requires sustained political action to ensure that San Francisco becomes just like Copenhagen, with 22+% of the populace commuting to work and school on bikes, with cars and taxis trained to “giv’em a brake”. The Coalition’s goal of a hundred miles of bike paths across the City this year is ambitious, but doable. As Captain Jean Luc Picard of Star Trek said, “Make it so!”

The Drought, punishing California terribly this year, has made for warm days, and little rain this winter… perfect for biking. Lety, R.I.P., our darling dog pal, loved being outside all day on the dock, entertained by the neighborhood seals, night herons and egrets, requiring her constant supervision of course…almost as entertaining to her as the flying monkeys at the San Francisco Exploratorium, sent swinging only with rhythmic drumming by the participants.

This week we had to euthanize our sidekick, our baby, our great traveling companion, our gorgeous girl, Lety. We are so very sad; she was only 7 years old. Complications of Canine Typhus from tick bites I had her treated for in Mexico 4 years ago, caused her mental state to deteriorate. Instead of staying calm, knowing we would protect her from confusing/scary situations, she began to respond to new sounds, sudden movement, and new dogs, with extreme aggression. The “Fight or Flight” response was triggered even when we routinely played with her in bed each morning. I am sure she never meant to hurt anyone, but was just biting to intimidate, to try to create a safe space around her. Unfortunately, with time, there was no place she felt safe, even with Steven, her true love.

My son Jacob and I met Lety during our year living on the Bay of Banderas in Nayarit, Mexico; Lety was the resident feral dog at a local salsa dance club, getting kibble and water there, along with a lot of french fries from the patrons. I treated her for fleas and ticks for 4 months, while Lety lived outside, hiding under cars, on cobblestone streets.  Due to my sister-in-law’s kindness, we brought Lety inside to save her from the cab drivers….who had started a game trying to run her over. She flew back to the States with us 7 months later, and Steven met her for the first time a month after that.  It wasn’t love at first sight; to Lety, he was an unwelcome intruder in “our” bed. Steven was patient, and plied her with treats, walks, and lots of play. He really won her over when he began to take her with him every time he left in the car. She was his baby.

Never was she happier (and better behaved) than during the 13 months we all lived together in our tiny motor home during our roadtrip. She matured, became confident and predictable, even around other dogs….as long as she was on a leash.  Off leash, she felt she had to protect us, and her feral dog, “fight or flight” behavior, came right back. We tried to find trails and beaches with no other dogs where she could run free, streaking back and forth past us, stretched out low like a greyhound. She was flying!

She was a terrific traveler, loving all the new experiences: sea birds up close during kayak trips, moose and buffalo right next to the van, dead seal to roll in, eat, and then vomit onto our bed, lots of treats and pats from strangers, breaking her collar to take off after a deer into the Florida swamps for an hour, and countless hikes and beach walks, ferry rides, and sleeping with us on cold nights.  We cannot imagine setting out on our next road trip without her. She loved us deeply, and gave us her best. We are so grateful to have experienced life with her these last years. We miss her terribly; we thank our friend Charlie Denson for the featured image of Lety, that caught her beauty, intelligence and intensity, and those amazing ears.

We have been traveling the U.S. and Canada in our 17 foot RV for 13 months, trying to follow pleasant (cool) weather. During 40,000 miles we have hit some quirky heat spells even in Nova Scotia, but rarely “wimped out” and used RV park/electric hook ups or hotels for air conditioning. Instead we altered course to beeline to the oceans, lakes, or the mountains.

We thought early Autumn in Alberta and British Columbia would be perfect for exploring the Canadian Rockies. However, snow in Wyoming in the Tetons last week, and locals telling us that Halloween in West Yellowstone, Montana is ALWAYS in the snow, made us realize we mistimed our Western Canada leg; we are just too late for a northward trip. Without snow chains, snow tires, or 4-wheel drive, we must avoid the risk of snow, even in September. Driving home this week, crossing the Sierra Nevada Range near Donner Summit in California, we were surprised to share the highway with a snowplow, and snow above the 5,000 foot level. Gorgeous!… and it confirmed our decision to await  Springtime to set off North again.

We decided that a weeks sojourn home to Albany, CA for home maintenance and to see our pals was in order.  When my mom invited us to housesit her houseboat in San Francisco beginning October 1st, we realized we could still be explorers, 30 minutes from home!  As two former San Francisco ‘city dwellers’ 30 years ago, we are so excited to get to live in the City again for three months. Thanks, Ma!  Hey Jules and Keith-o, see you soon!  We hope our East Bay and Peninsula pals will come visit!

So, we are not on the road, but not “at home”. We’ll likely take a hiatus from blogging or maybe take the time to sift through the blogs and do a “10 Best Places” travel list for the last year…or sit on our butts, eat chocolate and look at the waterfoul for 3 months, and enjoy not moving at all.  Call us if you’re coming to San Francisco between 10/1/13 and 1/15/14. We are hoping for a Puerto Rican bicycle touring trip in February, and then off to Western Canada in March.

What a plan…are we lucky, or what? It is finally clear to me that it is time to declare to the State Bar of California, that I am formally, “inactive”, at least in the practice of law. I can’t imagine what would make me climb into a business suit and a 60 hour a week job again. Fortunately, this year has led Steven to conclude that this 3rd attempt at retirement is for good: no more commuting, business travel, or long delayed vacations. It’s all vacation…what day is it?

One of the loveliest hikes anywhere in the world is of course, a hiker’s highway; Hidden Falls above Jenny Lake in the Grand Teton Range is serviced by a boat ride, including complimentary hiking sticks for the 1/2 mile hike to the Falls. How lucky to hike it twice; the first time with Steven, beyond the Falls up to Inspiration Point, and around the lake in full daylight.

A week later I hiked it and Cascade Canyon with my pals Karen and Nancy in two hail/lightning/thunder storms, and nearly in the dark; no tourists were on the trail with those conditions. The glaciers are shrinking and will be gone from this range by 2040. Visit now; the jagged Tetons are just stunning.

While Steven is called to sample the hot springs of Idaho, Sally enjoys a gals-only hiking week near Jackson Hole, Wyoming. We’ve been hiking together since 1978; I am so grateful we have the motivation to meet once again for a week together. The gals had an extra 24 hours of driving (diverting through Nebraska!) due to epic flooding in Colorado where they both were trapped, and out of communication with each other; they found each other and got out (with their car) only with the aid of emergency personnel and a tractor. We are all saddened at the loss of life and homes as flooding effects 4500 sq. miles, about the size of Connecticut.

There is a lot to learn about bears here in the Tetons to be safe on the less touristed trails or after dark. On our first gals’ hike we chose Darby Canyon for a short “warm-up” hike close to our comfy condo in Teton Valley, on the Western side of the Teton Range in Driggs, Idaho. However, with a late start (extended catching up with coffee mugs in hand), and a longer than planned hike due to our need to spelunk Wind Cave below (featured image photo credit: Nancy Buell), we walked out with headlamps, in the dark…and with no bear spray.

A very kind local mountain man heard from other hikers that passed us, that 3 women were coming out in the dark, and he walked up trail to find us and ensure we got out safely. We felt monumentally foolish when we learned that bears approaching hibernation are especially hungry, desperate, and active on full moon nights, and guess what? Yep, we had been congratulating ourselves on doing a night hike, under a full Harvest moon.

The only smart thing we did was stick close together, and belt out show tunes like Ethel Merman as we exited the forest, so as to avoid the highest risk, the surprise factor. We really appreciated our good luck when our mountain man informed us that a fishing guide and his customer were mauled by a black bear the day before while hiking in the Tetons during daylight hours. The bear did not retreat until being shot with a gun 4 times. I bet they weren’t belting out “Hello, Dolly!” before the attack. Being armed just with bear spray hardly feels safe anymore, but as American Express says, “Don’t leave home without it”.

I think being on a 17 hand Buckskin with my cattle dog, like this horsewoman we met on the trail, would make me feel a lot safer, and also fulfill my cowgirl fantasy. We appreciated the sentiment expressed by the bumper sticker on her truck/horse trailer in the parking lot.

Fine sentiments…even better if you are lucky, and find one like Steven that does both…and more. (I am going to enjoy watching him blush as he reads this).

“Pillow Talk” is what the elk are doing now…rutting, bugling, and fighting for female attention. We can hear them bugle, but have to rely on paintings from the Wildlife Museum in Grand Teton National Park, to convey wildlife images as we only see from afar, their white butts at dusk.

To ensure that Karen gets to see a moose, we booked a ranger led, wildlife driving tour to the places in the park where elk, moose and bears have been hanging out all summer. Just our luck, this was the first night during the entire summer that NO wildlife was sighted. The rainbows however were stunning.

Our last hike, the Aspen Trail in the Western Teton Range, revealed lots of fresh bear and moose prints along our trail, and even bear claw marks. That close proximity, sharing the trail, was the most exciting thing this week…and I walked with the bear spray primed and out in front of me like some cop stalking a bad guy in a small space…hoping that the bears didn’t saunter up the trail behind us. Once again, the camp songs and rock n’ roll impersonations probably made the wildlife (and other hikers) flee the area.

Finally, we are leaving Driggs, Idaho and the home of the ‘Spud Drive-in’, still showing outdoor movies. I just miss out being ordained a, “Seasoned Tator” for a senior discount, yet too old to be a “Tator Tot”. What’s that make me…a “Spec-tator” or a “Spud-nik”?