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Posts Tagged ‘bridges’


Bridges are a part of life. If you’re alive, you’ll know what I’m talking about.

There are bridges from person to person- sometimes one will extend a ‘bridge’ to someone else, and wait to see if they cross it. {Or maybe that’s an olive branch.  :lol:}

Sometimes, there are bridges in our own lives- paths that connect one part of our lives to another. Usually, I think we don’t see these until we’ve crossed over and look back.

I usually don’t mind bridges, although it’s ever-present in my mind when travelling that you could get pushed over the side, like by semis or debris on the road, etc. I can’t help it; it’s just one of those things I think about when we’re travelling.

There are bridges, however, that really give me the heebie jeebies. {Ok, maybe I ought to make this confession, so it’ll put this in context: I do not like heights. Tight, windy mountain passes- like through the Wolf Creek Pass (that’s the trip when I fell down the mountain…………) especially get my heart rate going, and I will also admit that I have spent a significant portion of some drives with my eyes closed and praying} ESPECIALLY bridges over gorges. Or canyons. Or large bodies of water. Suspension bridges are really unsettling- I am convinced I can feel them swaying, because it always seems I’m on them when it’s windy.

I. Do. Not. Like. Them. 😀

No, really, I don’t.

I can appreciate them, however. A friend recently posted about a trip she had taken to Astoria, Oregon. When I saw the bridge she had shared a picture of, I thought I might have stayed under that bridge overnight.

No, sillies, not as a troll. There was a hotel. 😆

Sure enough, after checking the itinerary, I was able to confirm that we stayed in the hotel under the bridge on the trip that nearly killed me.

Wait. What? Didn’t I tell you about that trip?

Oh dear. That was the trip with many names. {The Trip from Hell……….. The Trip That Nearly Killed Me Dead…………… The Trip That Shall Never Be Spoken of Again and That Most Certainly Shall Never Be Repeated Ever, Ever Again…………} Without additional adjectives, let’s just call it The Trip.

The Trip came about over a deep desire of my parents to go on a family vacation for their 50th anniversary. Here’s the deal: they would pay for airfare, travel accommodations and lodging expenses for the duration of the two-week family tour down the west coast. We were responsible for paying for our food.

Sound good?

Here’s the part I left out- it was a chartered bus tour. All the way from Seattle down to San Francisco, in two weeks, stopping at 5 national parks and 7 state parks, with additional ‘natural areas’ and other points of interest, like the Oregon State Aquarium and Pike Place Market and a factory tour of Boeing and a ferry ride across Puget Sound. And leaving the hotel at 5:45 am to visit the tide pools at Yaquina Head Outstanding Natural Area. Tons and tons and tons of stops. 

It was a chartered bus tour. With all 8 of us siblings and spouses (less mine) and 20 grandchildren. 10 of those children were 8 and under. On a bus. For two weeks. Getting on the bus most days around 6 am to leave the hotel and checking into the next one around 8 pmish.

Yes, that’s over 12 hours a day, much of it on the bus, driving down the Oregon coast; stopping 3 plus times a day for points of interest, sometimes for food; most often eating at least lunch on the bus (which had provided us with coolers, so we hit a Wal-Mart the first evening out on the road, and then after that, there were grocery stores that were 1/2 a mile one could walk to, if interested, after getting to the hotel after 8 pm).

We did one week of the tour and flew home in Redding, Ca. I am 100% certain that had I not gotten home when I did, I would have ended up in the hospital. As it was, Hunny took one look at me once we were off the plane and wanted to take me to the ER. Honestly, I was too tired to go, and just wanted to get home and sleep. We had planned to go first thing in the morning. Fortunately, it didn’t come to that, as I was able to de-juice some overnight, but it took me over a solid week of being in bed except to go to the bathroom to get most of the fluid out.

I have *never* been that swollen, nor do I intend to ever again. I was so swollen, the sides of my ankles were nearly dragging on the ground {and no, I actually am not exaggerating}. It goes without saying that my flip-flops were nearly impossible to get on in the morning, and once on, were not coming off because I knew if I took them off, I would not be able to get them back on later in the day………… 

It is really unsettling to have people stare at you because you are disfigured- even my face was swollen- they can tell something is clearly wrong with you. {And so now you understand why I didn’t go on the European version of this trip they all took this last June…………..}

But I digress. We’re talking about bridges. 😆 And one bridge in particular.

As it turns out, I do have a few pictures from staying the night under that bridge. Pretty neat to be under it, and it makes for spectacular photography. I am pretty sure, however, that I had my eyes closed while we were driving over it. 😆

Here are pictures of my view from the ground. 😀

You can see that I managed to get part of the bus seat in the picture. 🙂

Because life is a soundtrack, I leave you with Simon and Garfunkle’s Bridge Over Troubled Water…….. 😆

 

Or wait. Maybe we ought to go with Red Hot Chili Peppers Under the Bridge instead………… 😆

 

 

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