Merry Christmas

 

As we travel through this Holiday Season, we want to wish all our friends and loved ones a very Warm and Merry Christmas - and to always remember the reason for the season is - 

John 3:16 - 'For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.' 

In Search of Puffins

 Laureen, my wonderful wife, promised we would be seeing Puffins in Nova Scotia. She wanted to see Puffins in Nova Scotia. She was excited to see Puffins in Nova Scotia.

I always thought a Puffin was something Pillsbury made for breakfast.

Actually, a Puffin is any of three species of small alcids (auks) in the bird genus Fratercula. These are pelagic seabirds that feed primarily by diving in the water. They breed in large colonies on coastal cliffs or offshore islands, nesting in crevices among rocks or burrows in the soil.

A Puffin just enjoying life

Not being an Ornithologist, I have no idea what all that means except a Puffin is a sea bird and Laureen was keen on seeing them.

Being the doting husband I am, it would be Puffin-hunting season when we arrived in Nova Scotia - figuratively speaking only. How could anyone want to harm these little clowns of the sea? With their black and white bodies, orange feet, and a multicolored beak sporting stripes of orange, yellow, white, and black, they definitely appear ready to jump out of a Volkswagen with 300 of their closest aquatic friends.

We crossed the eight-mile-long Confederation Bridge from New Brunswick to Prince Edward Island and I suggested Laureen take a gander far below at the beautiful but somewhat foggy surface of the Northumberland Strait.

“Nope,” was her reply. She doesn’t like bridges of any height or length - the Confederation Bridge is very long and very high above the ocean.

It was so cool. “Do you feel it vibrating?”

Spotting a gift shop as soon as we crossed over into the town of Borden-Carleton, I realized I would soon be paying for my smarmy remark about the shaking bridge.

We stopped at the Gateway Village and soon were patrolling huge shops filled floor to ceiling with every sort of tourist trinket, tourist apparel, tourist photographs, and so many other tourist items that I truly believed locals were not allowed into the village.

Approaching a clerk while Laureen was loading up a couple of shopping carts, I asked the woman where we could see some Puffins.

“That would be New-Found-Land,” she replied. “There be no Puffins on Prince Edward Island.”

It was at that time I came to the rationalization that we would not be seeing Puffins and I had pronounced Newfoundland wrong for my entire life.

I was taught by a teacher in elementary school that New-fun-lund was somewhere in Canada.

So much for the private school my parents had paid for while growing up in Riverside, California.

With the boot, which is a trunk in Canada, full of loot I broke the news to Laureen.

She merely shook her head and said, “I have faith we will see a lot of cute Puffins.”

A week later we saw the elusive Puffins and they were not in Newfoundland, but in Cape Breton Island near the very small town of Englishtown along St Anns Bay - which happens to be part of Nova Scotia,

Driving along the 105 toward Baddeck I saw a road sign advertising Puffins tours. I hit the brakes, threw out the anchor, and careened onto the 312.

“What are you doing?” Laureen asked while hanging onto the handgrip near the passenger seat of the rental.

“Keeping your faith alive.”

Within a few kilometers, which is really cool since they are shorter than miles, we pulled up to  Donelda’s Puffin Boat Tours.

All of us lining up for the Puffin Tour

Turns out that the owner of the boat tour, Donelda has run the business for over 28 years with her husband John - sadly we were informed that John had passed away recently, but Donelda was keeping the tours as well as their lobster business alive in his honor.

Donelda is known as the ‘Puffin Lady’ around St. Ann’s Bay.

We signed up for a three-hour tour, which gave me a bit of an apprehensive feeling, thanks to growing up with the television show, Gilligan’s Island.

I shrugged it off but it suddenly came back as we were about to board the sightseeing boat, Highland Lass, when I heard a man ask, “Lovey, did you remember to bring stacks of money?”

The tour would include visiting an official bird sanctuary located off Cape Dauphin which consists of actually two islands - Hertford and Ciboux.

I asked the owner just prior to casting off if people could land on either of the islands.

Donelda replied, “I’ve been doing these tours for a long time and let me tell you, I or any other tour operator would not stand by idly if we saw trespassers on these islanders. By law, no human can set foot on either island so the natural habitats of these sea birds will remain pristine.”

Though she was a very warm and funny person, I was sure that if she caught someone trespassing on either of the Bird Islands, she would tow them back to the harbor in a lobster trap.

One of the Bird Islands the tour investigates

As we powered out into the bay for the tour, Donelda went through a few minutes of boat safety in case the boat was struck by a mine, iceberg, or torpedo. Then for the next forty minutes, the woman explained the various types of marine life we would be observing.

Donelda going through the safety drill with passengers.

“We will be seeing a lot of different sea birds during this tour,” Donelda said while holding up large colored photographs.

“There will be Artic Terms, Common Loons . . .”

“Don’t,” Laureen whispered to me.

“. . . Common Elders . . .”

“Don’t,” again the whisper.

“. . . Red-breasted Mergansers, Belted Kingfishers, Great Blue Heron, and of course many Bald Eagles.”

Almost on cue, the Captain, who did not resemble Alan Hale Jr., stated that to the port, that is the left side of the boat facing the bow, was a Bald Eagle. Instantly, Donelda climbed out to the exterior and grabbed a large Mackerel out of a bucket.

“Watch the fish,” she yelled while tossing the fish into the waters beside us. Within moments that huge majestic Bald Eagle swept by within yards of the 41-foot Highland Lass and snatched the fish up with its huge talons.

It was marvelous to see this bird, so cleanly drop from the sky and quickly pick up the fish floating on top of the water.

During that tour, if we did not see three dozen Bald Eagles I would be surprised.

Eagle catching a fish right next to our boat

Soon we plowed through the semi-rough waters and reached the bird sanctuaries - and Laureen got her wish. Besides all the birds Donelda had mentioned were on full view darting here and there, there were hundreds of the tiny little Puffins.

Some were floating in the water, where they actually spend most of their lives, and others sitting atop the craggy cliffs of the islands, safely tucked away in the nooks and crannies carved into the rock faces created by wind and waves.

I was somewhat shocked at how small the Puffins were. Photographs I had seen in the past gave me the impression they were just a bit smaller than Arctic Penguins. Nope, they were tiny - but they did waddle a bit like penguins. Reminded me of Charlie Chaplin, if he was a Puffin walking around on the Bird Islands.

The Captain slowed the boat and for the next hour or so, we cruised within yards of the islands snapping photos with phones and cameras marveling at how many different varieties of birds lived together in this sometimes harsh environment.

“They are so cute,” Laureen said with a large smile while pointing at the Puffins. It made me happy to see her light up while looking across the waters toward these little Clowns of the Sea.

After taking so many photographs, we just went outside to the aft and took in all of what nature had to offer that afternoon.

And nature had a lot to offer.

Cool blue waters with brilliantly white wisps of waves curling here and there on the surface, dozens of sea birds flying overhead in the clear sunlight, families of Harbor Seals frolicking along the shorelines or just out sunning themselves, and feeling the ocean breezes against our faces made for a perfect day of adventure.

Show Off!

As the Highland Lass headed back to its berth near Englishtown, Donelda told us that the area near the small fishing port dates back to 1597 by the French, later becoming part of the English Empire.

 It is one of the oldest towns in North America.

Mission accomplished - the search for the Puffins was complete and I knew once we bumped into the wooded docks, there may be a new search for a pub near Englishtown, which seemed apropos.

For more information: https://Puffinsboattours.com/our-tours/

John can be reached at: beyersbyways@gmail.com

Happy Thanksgiving

 

Often, between Halloween - a Holiday we love, and Christmas - a Holyday we love, we often forget the importance of the Holiday of Thanksgiving.

It is not only a day to spend with family and friends over a lavish feast spinning tales or watching sports but one of simply being thankful for those we love.

That is the utmost importance. To be 'Thankful' for those we love, present and past.

So, this upcoming Thanksgiving, please remember the words of Marcie, from A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving.

'We should just be thankful for being together. I think that's what they mean by Thanksgiving, Charlie Brown.'

To be just -

The Rebirth of the Ghost Town of Amboy

Welcome to Amboy, CA

According to Ken Large, Operations and Logistics Manager for Roy’s Motel and Cafe in Amboy, there are ongoing plans to rejuvenate this once prospering town into something for the future.

“When Albert passed away in 2023,” Ken said, “I wondered what would become of his dream of turning this once vibrant town into a go-to destination for those traveling along Route 66.”

Albert Okura, the founder of the popular restaurant chain Juan Pollo in Southern California, had purchased the nearly forgotten town of Amboy in 2005. Albert loved history, especially the history of Southern California and more importantly Route 66. When he purchased the town of Amboy, his wish was to do all he could to turn it back into the iconic spot where travelers from across the United States would stop along America’s Highway during its heyday.

The original sign is lit up nightly in Amboy, CA

He had big plans, but that was nothing unusual for this man who created a chain of cookeries which would later label him the Chicken Man for the delicious food served in his nearly 30 various locations.

Albert knew he could recreate the thrill of travelers along Route 66 that was once felt after the route was completed in 1926. Sadly, Albert passed away on January 27, 2023 at the young age of 72 in Ontario, California. 

But, his dream did not die. “His family have been wonderful in keeping Albert’s dreams alive here in Amboy,” Ken said. “Take a walk around and see for yourself all the construction being conducted to complete this place by the summer of 2026.”

That summer would be the 100th anniversary of the completion of Route 66, and there are huge plans being developed along that long river of asphalt stretching from Chicago all the way to Santa Monica.”

Rumor has it that a family of Sasquatches may attend the festivities somewhere along the nearly 2,500 mile highway - but of course, that is on a need-to-know-basis.

And, I need to know!

Before I started walking the property, Ken did inform me that finishing the entire project may be a bit of a stretch but “...knowing Albert’s family as I do, I think we may indeed have everything up and running for the huge crowds that will be coming through. They are an awesome group of folks and I am sure keeping Albert’s legacy alive will be in the forefront of their thoughts.”

I’ve been through Amboy more times than I can count - either heading east or heading west. Did I stop each time? No, but every time I passed by those stark white empty cabins, the large paned windowed reception area of the motel, and the gas station with its huge sign out front welcoming visitors, I felt a slight tug at my heart.

Road monument with unfished cabins in the rear at Amboy, CA

Amboy, once a bustling and hustling railroad stop for miners, travelers, shippers, receivers, and those that just wanted an adventure which then, as many such towns did, turned into a ghost town and was now being brought back to life, makes me smile.

The last time I visited and spoke with Ken, a large tour bus had just pulled up and about a million tourists exited. It was a very large custom made bus.

“We sometimes get up to three thousand people visiting a day,” he said. I just saw a million, so I suppose his math could be accurate, rounded off for the year.

As I was taking a snap of some of the construction going on, a tourist walked to me and in a very German accent and said he recognized me.

“Yes, I am John R. Beyer, the world-renowned travel writer,” I humbly responded.

“Nein,” he retorted. “You look like the restroom attendant. Paper is needed in stall three.”

I nodded and then mumbled, “You probably meant number two.”

Ken advised me that 50% of the visitors are European, 35% from the United States, 10% from South and Central America and the remainder from Asia or perhaps the territory of Nauru.

As I wandered here and there, teams of construction personnel were wiring this, harnessing that, and pretty much doing what construction personnel did. They were busy rebuilding Amboy into what Albert Okura had imagined.

New construction in the works in Amboy, CA

A town full of life which invited the tourist to stop for a spell for a rest, and perhaps a meal and then back onto the historic byway or Route 66.

In fact, in keeping to Albert’s plans, Ken explained that they hoped to have rooms ready to rent, a fully functioning restaurant, and other amenities which made staying in Amboy for more than a couple of hours a reality.

I asked about the family and their thoughts about Albert’s visions.

“I must say that Kyle, one of Albert’s children, comes here quite often and spends long weekends checking out how much work is getting done. Often, Mrs. Okura and other family members accompany him and they love it out here. They are a great and loving family.”

Years ago, my lovely wife Laureen, along with one of our daughters, Kelly, drove through Amboy and were delighted to see the site was being used as a Fly- In. Planes of all makes and models were actually landing along Route 66 and taxing to the small airport located there.

Music, food, and other entertainment were in abundance for all to share in.

Other events which are being coordinated by Ken, the other staff members, and the family are motorcycle rendezvous, classic car shows, airplane fly-ins, music festivals, space alien conventions, and the list goes on and on.

And gas is available at the original pumps

“We also are also a venue for those who want to rent the place out for movie shoots, television ads, music videos, weddings, and the like,” Ken stated.

Recently a Polish singer by the name of Daria Zawailaow utilized the town for a music video. It is spunky, riveting, and I have no idea what she is singing about - my Polish is rather limited except for some old and now inappropriate jokes.

The below link will show just one of the musical talents who visited Amboy and wanted to share with their audiences what an iconic place this little town is and why it is important to visit.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?app=desktop&v=CoMFkWwevjA

For more information: https://visitamboy.com/ 

John can be contacted at; beyersbyways@gmail.com

 

Amboy, Part I

Anyone who has traveled extensively along that long black ribbon of highway called Route 66 will recognize the name of the town of Amboy. Tourists, locals, and America’s Mother Road aficionados know of this old railway stop smack dab center in the Mojave Desert.

It is that iconic place just a few hundred yards from a double set of railroad tracks to the southwest which conjures up images of past times. Towns like Amboy were vital stops for visitors who ventured from the windy city of Chicago to the edge of the Pacific Ocean.

The Mojave Desert is not for the weak-willed or unprepared. No, in the summer months the temperatures can easily soar into the triple digits making driving along Route 66 a challenge at times - especially before the invention of air conditioning for vehicles.

But it is these exact spots that remind the traveler of the fortitude and tenacity of those who went out and settled in sometimes very hostile territories - and succeeded.

Railroading was big business, moving goods from here to there to be consumed by those needing supplies or simply desiring goods from various locales around the country.

And the Atlantic and Pacific Railroad honchos knew the fastest route from large hubs, such as Barstow, would be straight across the Mojave Desert.

In the late 1880s, train engines needed water to build up steam to pump those large steel wheels along hundreds of miles of track.

So railroad stops were created and boom towns blossomed.

Towns like Siberia, Bagdad, Ibis, Bannock, and so many more once were thriving, but have now been nearly all forgotten through the decades. A sign here or there may advise the traveler of a tree as the only living entity in Bagdad. There are broken slabs of cement littering this section or that section of desert allowing those with an imagination to understand that folks once laughed and loved in these towns. And yes, deserted but well maintained cemeteries dot the desert floor giving names to those who lived and died along the railroad. And sometimes there is simply a weatherbeaten wooden cross fighting to stay upright in the blasting winds and relentless sun with no recognition of who lies below.

Many of the ghost towns have their own monuments to past residents

Amboy was such a town. A place that came into existence in 1858 as simply a watering hole for the trains belonging to the Atlantic and Pacific Railroad, later to be the Santa Fe Railway. In 1883 Lewis Kingman, a locating engineer, established the stop as an actual town and soon more and more folks were moving in.

The Church in Amboy, California

In 1926 the now famous Route 66 was completed and people were able to drive their Ford Model Ts, Pontiac 6s, Dodge Specials, or other vehicles all the way from the midwest to California. 

The love affair with cars and driving was in full gear. And the tiny town of Amboy was soon to become an iconic stop along Route 66 due to an enterprising couple who through happenstance soon made the railroad stop their home for decades.

Roy Crowl and his wife, Velma, ended up in Amboy in 1924 after a vehicle mishap, and not being able to afford the repairs stayed while Roy worked as a mechanic and other jobs and Velma became a cook at a couple of restaurants that were there at the time in Amboy.

In the late 1930s, Roy believed Amboy was going to be huge on the map along Route 66 since the vehicle traffic kept getting heavier by the month and purchased four acres of land. In 1938 Roy opened a garage, Roy’s Garage, to service any and all vehicles heading east or west out of town and soon his business was booming. His son-in-law Buster Burris, who had married the couple's daughter, Betty, went into business with Roy in the garage and opened up a parts store inside the garage. Soon though, Betty came up with the idea of their own cafe and confiscated the parts store for her restaurant.

The name was then changed to Roy’s Garage and Cafe. Soon the realization that travelers not only needed fuel, food, and repairs but also a place to spend the night gave the owners another business concept.

Cabins were built just east of the garage and cafe and the name was again changed to Roy’s Motel and Cafe.

Rental cabins to be used by guests at Roy's

In the 1940s the population of Amboy was reported at nearly 200 citizens with three small motels, restaurants, multiple garages, a church, a school, and a post office.

Amboy was certainly on the map for those driving Route 66,

When Roy retired in 1959, Buster not only maintained the motel, service station, and restaurant but also acquired the whole town which included other entities such as a Post Office and school.

Unfortunately, with progress often comes decline and that is what occurred when Interstate 40, a few miles north of Amboy was completed in 1973. Travelers now opted for the faster route instead of the single lane winding road of Route 66 which often meant stopping for trains at crossings or slowing through the towns along the roadway.

Almost all but Buster’s business closed, leaving the town pretty much empty except for a few hangers-ons.  Buster sold the town in 1995 to Walt Wilson and Tim White who used it as a film set and for photo shoots. But even that dried up, forcing the men to lose the town in a foreclosure which returned what was now a ghost town to Betty Burris, Buster’s widow.

As the town died, the citizens left derelict houses

Amboy went back on the market and finally was sold to Albert Okura, the owner of the popular chain of restaurants, Juan Pollo, in February of 2005.

Part of the deal was that Okura had to promise to preserve Amboy and reopen Roy’s. Perhaps Betty Burris did not understand that Albert was a man full of his own dreams and a lover of history.

In fact, he established the one-of-a-kind McDonald’s Museum in San Bernardino of the site where the original McDonald’s restaurant was owned by brothers Richard and Maurice McDonald.

Albert Okura knew what he wanted to do with this Amboy town which he had purchased - turn it back to how it looked in its heyday and welcome guests from around the world to come and enjoy this particular part of true Americana.

He was a man with a mission and a revamping of Amboy was started as soon as the ink dried on the escrow papers.

In Part 2 - Even after Okura’s passing in 2023, his dream is very much alive with his family and the staff working on taking Amboy off the ghost town rolls and making it a living historical landmark.

John can be reached at: beyersbyways@gmail.com

Tidal Bore Rafting on the Bay of Fundy

John R Beyer near the Bay of Fundy in Nova Scotia

According to Ed, “Retirement, as I view it comes in three realities. Go-go. Slow-go. Or, No-go. I am going to enjoy the first as long as I can.”

Ed is a full time RVer, along with his wife Trish. They winter in Florida and spend the rest of the year wandering here and there.

This particular here was where my lovely wife, Laureen, and I caught up with the two along the Shubenacadie River which empties into the Bay of Fundy.

The weather was warm for Nova Scotia in mid-June and we were ready for an adventure on this natural phenomenon known as the tidal bore, the shift between low and high tides in the Bay of Fundy.

We had donned our life jackets and were just awaiting instructions from our white water river guides before climbing aboard the small red Zodiac rubber raft with a 60 horsepower outboard attached aft.

Derrick, the man at the helm, announced that we would be traveling out toward the bay while the river was at its shallowest.

“I know it looks like all the water is gone but we will navigate through some channels cut out naturally by the ebb and flow of the river which will give us all a great chance to see how marvelous this experience can be.”

A view of the bottom of the Bay of Fundy after water recedes

In the past, I have run white water rapids on the Colorado River, the Kern River, the Stanislaus River, and the American River - so this should not be too much of an experience in all reality. 

Riding an incoming tide from an ocean? 

The Bay of Fundy has two extensive tides that retreat into the Atlantic Ocean twice a day - roughly twelve hours apart. The tide goes out and boats that have been photographed millions of times are seen sitting on the muddy floor of the bay. Then a few hours later the tide returns and the boats miraculously start to float beautifully upon the waters waiting for their owners to get on board as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.

Laureen Beyer standing on the floor of the Bay of Fundy, Nova Scotia

So, here we were near the small enclave of Green Oaks, approximately 60 miles northeast of Halifax getting ready for our four hour cruise along the Shubenacadie River.

Old Railroad bridge spanning the Shubenacadie River, Nova Scotia

“Sounds like a Rolling Stones song,” I mentioned to Laureen as we made our way down a rather steep incline to the floor of the now empty river. “I can’t get no satisfaction from my Shubenacadie. I can’t get no . . .”

“Stop,” she replied. 

“The mud can get a bit slippery here,” said Steph, a guide who would be accompanying us on our wild rapids journey.

I smiled but then suddenly found myself sliding down the path to the river as though I had just donned a pair of snow skis for a downhill slalom. I was out of control.

“A hand here,” I yelled. 

“I think Laureen pushed me,” I said when regaining my balance next to the Zodiac.

We had signed up with Fundy Tidal Bore Adventures for this excursion along the Shubenacadie to see what all the hub-hub was with these Bay of Fundy tides.

I had never heard of a tidal bore. Though, it is very true that I have met a lot of bores in my life, and perhaps one or two by a tide, but this phenomenon was new to me.

The definition is quite simple: ‘A tidal bore, often simply given as bore in context, is a tidal phenomenon in which the leading edge of the incoming tide forms a wave (or waves) of water that travels up a river or narrow bay, reversing the direction of the river or bay's current. It is a strong tide that pushes up the river, against the current.’

Huh?

We had witnessed the water in various rivers upon our travels in this region of Nova Scotia over the past few days to marvel how a river or bay is full of water and then within a couple of hours you can be having a lobster roll on the dry bed.

In fact, the lobster rolls were delicious and backed by a cold Nine Locks Dirty Blonde made eating on the muddy floor of a waterway that much better.

When the water retreats and then returns to fill in the bay or river, the fluctuation can be amazing. These tidal bores only occur in a very few remarkable areas around the world and usually have a difference of about 20 feet between ebb and flow.

The Bay of Fundy is one of the grandest of them all, with a difference of sometimes over 40 feet - in fact at Burntcoat Head Park, approximately 40 miles west of Green Oaks on the Bay of Fundy, 54 feet of water difference is not uncommon.

Some people actually surf the Tidal Bore on the Bay of Fundy

We were off heading toward the bay as our captain, Derrick, piloted the small raft with great expertise finding this channel or that channel.

“Look up at the tall cliffs surrounding us,” he directed. And we did. “When the tidal bore comes in it will not be long until those cliffs are only a few feet above us instead of the sixty they are now.”

Suddenly a bald eagle soared out of the tall green trees atop those very same cliffs and circled high above us. 

"You’ll see a lot of those today,” Steph said, and in fact, we counted at least fourteen flying high and wide across the Shubenacadie in the next four hours.

Soon we were beached along a huge sand bar in the middle of the river. “We’ll be here for about thirty minutes until the tide comes in, and then it’s off to the races.”

“I read that the tidal bore can be only a few inches in height as it comes in,” I said to Ed and Laureen who were standing near me. “Doesn’t sound very thrilling.”

We chatted about this and that when suddenly we all noticed the once dry sand bar was quickly going under water and we were ankle deep in the incoming waters. The tide was coming in at a rate of about two inches a minute.

“Let’s get aboard,” Derrick said as we all climbed back into the raft and took our positions sitting on top of the inflated sides. “Make sure to hold tight to the ropes behind you when we actually hit the tidal bore.”

Warnings were given to all us customers not to bring any personal belongings upon the raft - cell phones, cameras, jewelry, car keys, or anything else of value. Morgan, the owner of the company, had told us before casting off that the waves would be so brutal that it would be nearly impossible to hold onto anything but the ropes looped around the exterior of the raft.

“I’m sure this will be a nothing burger that we paid good money for,” I skeptically replied.

Forty minutes later they could hear my girlie-man screams all the way to Prince Edward Island.

The tidal bore was anything but boring as it smacked straight into the waters of the river and with the narrow channels filling up, created pockets of swirling masses of white water, and our raft bounded into the air like a fish fighting for its life.

“You noticed when the water was out there were dips here and there across the surface of the river,” Derrick yelled across the raft. “That is what’s creating the rapids.”

At this point, I had swallowed enough of the Shubenacadie to become a local and we weren’t done yet.

“Now, off to the washing machine!” Derrick yelled, as he throttled the raft to maximum velocity.

In moments the entire bow of the raft, where Ed and I happened to be sitting was engulfed in mammoth waves. It was thrilling. It was wonderful. It was scary, as I lost my grip of the rope with my left hand and ended up on the floor of the raft, which happened to be full of water.

“I can still see the top of the boat,” Ed yelled. “Is this all you got?”

Derrick took the challenge and plunged us head first into the first set of six footers which ran over the length of the Zodiac. I lost count on how many sets there were. 

That is when, for the briefest moment, I hated Ed.

It was probably the best ride of my life. Nerve wracking and all, but to experience a tidal bore so up close and personal was beyond marvelous.

Fishing boats get stranded twice a day on the Bay of Fundy

We survived and I had to agree with Ed - this trip to Nova Scotia was going to be a Go-go. 

For further information: https://www.tidalboreadventures.ca/contact

John can be reached at beyersbyways@gmail.com

The Serenity of the Heritage House in Riverside, CA

The historical Heritage House in Riverside, CA

In 1873, a woman by the name of Eliza Tibbets got an unexpected gift from her friend, William Saunders, who happened to be a horticulturist at the United States Department of Agriculture in Washington D.C.

Knowing that Saunders liked to figure out the science of growing plants, we might presume Tibbets may have thought a nice bouquet of Camellias would be special. Those very rare flowering plants found in the far-flung lands of eastern and southern Asia would be charming to put on her windowsill at her home in Riverside, California.

When the package arrived, her friend had sent three Brazilian navel orange trees. He explained that the trees had come from Bahia, Brazil, and would grow very well in the semi-arid climate of the town situated alongside the Santa Ana River,

“I like oranges,” Tibbets may have said while donning a pair of work gloves and grabbing a shovel.

Turns out the trees did like the weather in Riverside and soon the citrus revolution in this Southern California town was in full bloom.

One of the orange trees planted by Tibbets is still thriving and can be seen at the junction of Magnolia Avenue and Arlington Avenue to this day.

By 1882, Riverside had over half of the entire population of citrus trees growing in California and people were making all kinds of moola-boola. Then, with the invention of the refrigerated railcar, oranges and other citrus could be shipped anywhere in the United States without rotting. 

By 1895, Riverside had become the richest city in the nation by way of income per capita.

As Laureen, my citrus-loving wife, and I wandered the beautiful green gardens of the Heritage House in Riverside recently, I regaled her with tales of growing up in the city of oranges.

The rear gardens including the carriage house and water tower

“I’ve heard those tales before. Many times,” she said.

I’m sure that meant that she wanted to hear more about the times my friends and I would ride our stallions through the acres of orange groves in Riverside on lazy summer afternoons looking for boyish adventures.

“I recall the time near Victoria Avenue . . .” I started.

“The tour is beginning,” Laureen interrupted. “You can finish your monologue later.”

You bet I will, I thought, as Docent Sandy invited us into the parlor of the rather large Victorian house located along Magnolia Avenue.

We were visiting the historical Heritage House which was built in 1892 wondering what it had to offer visitors in the way of Riverside history. As we stepped into the entrance, it seemed as though the residence had just been recently constructed. It is simply gorgeous - in a 19th-century sort of way.

The entrance parlor of the Heritage House

Docent Sandy was dressed in period costume and introduced herself to our small group of tourists, or as I like to refer to myself, historical researcher.

“The house is maintained in almost the exact way it would have appeared when Mrs. Catharine Bettner had lived here,” Docent Sandy said. “In fact, all the furniture, paintings, photographs, and other items in the house come from that time period, though they may not have all belonged to Mrs. Bettner.”

We later learned during the tour that all the items in the house were donated by people living in Riverside from their private collections when the Riverside Museum Associates purchased the property and converted it into a museum in 1969.

“Good time to get rid of great-grandma’s rocking chair,” a husband may have said. “Then I can get a wide lounger to take its place for game day.”

The Heritage House and all the belongings were as authentic as they could be.

Beautiful artwork abounds

“Mrs. Bettner had always wanted to live in a Queen Anne-style home and she got her wish after hiring architect John A. Walls from the firm Morgan and Walls out of Los Angeles.”

Turns out that even with detailed plans, the contractor made one terrible boo-boo as he went to turn the keys over to the new owner. He had forgotten to add the servant staircase at the rear of the house.

And we all know how that feels. Servants traipsing down the main staircase, how ghastly indeed. Laureen would have clasped her pearls in dismay at such an atrocity.

“John, my smelling salts, please,” she may say. “Jeeves just came down OUR staircase.”

The contractor sued Bettner. Bettner sued the contractor. And the judge said build the staircase and she will pay for it.

The total cost of the house, with the added servant staircase, was a staggering $13,500.00 dollars, in today's money would be nearly $400,000.  This actually is not bad considering the home boasts over 4,000 square feet of living space with an intricately carved staircase, (not the one for servants), multiple fireplaces that are inlaid with gorgeous colored tiles, and pocket sliding doors weighing four to six hundred pounds to close off rooms which glide like they are slicked with butter - and these doors are 132 years old. Try to get that warranty from Home Depot or Lowe’s.

The ceilings are designed in various patterns utilizing all sorts of native and imported wood that Docent Sandy told us but I forgot. Wait, my wife just nudged me: pine, redwood, and white oak. Finely crafted hanging lights are in each room showing nothing but elegance.

Beautifully handcrafted woodwork throughout the home

An interesting tidbit is that Catharine Bettner had moved from New York to California with her husband, James, in the late 1870s and knew about electric lights.  Even though electricity was not readily available at that time in Riverside, she had the lights installed in anticipation of retrofitting, so no changes cosmetically would have to be made to the house when electricity became available.

A very practical and forward-thinking woman.

Wandering through the residence truly pointed out how life was both similar and yet quite different at the same time, at the near turn of the 20th century.

All the comforts of an expensive home but with a few things missing, like air conditioning.

“The Heritage House is closed from June until September since the association desires to maintain the place as original as possible,” Docent Sandy said.

In other words, the museum is closed during the very hot summer months so visitors don’t faint while grasping for the banister while descending from the second floor.

“Oh my,” a woman visitor may say as she slides face-first down the stairs. “It is hot in here.”

As we entered the gracefully decorated dining room, Docent Sandy told us how Mrs. Bittner came to build her home along Magnolia Avenue.

The formal dining room

Turns out that the reason James and Catharine had left New York was due to James’s bad health. He was given less than a year to live unless he moved west to the warmer climate of California. They did and he lasted an amazing 11 years longer until passing in 1888.

When they arrived in Riverside, James jumped into the new citrus business not only planting trees but also building packing houses to prepare the citrus for delivery locally or eventually nationally.

“Back then,” Docent Sandy said. “Men had multiple jobs or careers to take care of their families. There were no pensions like today, so many men became wealthy working in this field and that field at the same time. James was a lawyer, a civil engineer, and a citrus farmer.”

I could feel Laureen’s eyes on me. I ignored them.

“So, when James died, Catharine took over his businesses and decided to build this house since she did not want to live in the house in which her beloved husband had died,” Docent Sandy told us.

Bettner was a very wise and shrewd business owner who wanted to make her late husband proud, So, under her guidance the citrus production flourished, and later on, when it was time to slow down, she turned everything over to her only surviving child Robert.

As the tour progressed we realized this was a truly special place to visit. Not only did it have a wonderful history but showed the love and respect the citizens had for this one-time small town in the West.

One of many fireplaces

It was their home and they took pride in it.

With the thought of preserving history, the Riverside Museum Associates wanted the residence designated on the National Register of Historic Places, which it received on February 28, 1973. 

For further information: https://riversideca.gov/museum/

Palm Springs Air Museum

 The concept of flying has always intrigued me. How some object simply in a matter of seconds can leave the earth and soon be flying so easily through the heavens?

As a young boy, I jumped off my parent’s tall garage roof over our backyard and flapped my arms as fast as a hummingbird. Luckily the ground broke my fall.

My father just looked at me. “What were you thinking?”

“I thought I was a bird.”

He walked away shaking his head.

Thus the reason when I can visit an air museum, I jump at the chance, not fly but jump since no matter how hard you flap your arms, gravity will keep you grounded.

So recently my lovely wife, Laureen, and I traveled to the wonderful city of Palm Springs to wander the grounds of the Palm Springs Air Museum.

Walking up to the entrance will take the visitor quite a few minutes because this large museum doesn’t only have historical military exhibits inside but a lot to see on the outside.

A Mikoyan-Gurevick MiG-15 sits proudly just south of the main entrance to the museum. This Soviet Union jet fighter was the terror of the skies after its introduction in 1949. The swept back wings, short fuselage made this plane extremely maneuverable during aerial combat, which was proven when these planes were used during the Korean War. As a result the United States introduced the American F-86 Sabre to counter the MiG-15. 

MiG -15 on display at the Palm Springs Air Museum

We wandered from exterior exhibits like the McDonnell Douglas F/A-18 Hornet, to the General Dynamics F-16 Fighting Falcon, to another four or five beautifully maintained planes which point out the importance of air power for any nation.

In fact, the message of the museum is: ‘The Palm Springs Air Museum is a living history museum dedicated to educating the public about the role Air Power played in preserving American liberties and way of life.’

One such aircraft on display outside was an observation plane, the 0-2 Skymaster which resembles its predecessor the Cessna 0-1 E Bird Dog. This sight brought a lump to my throat as my uncle, Captain Edmund Thornell, had been flying the Bird Dog on a mission in Vietnam on September 10, 1966 when he was shot down and killed. It was his birthday, he had just turned 33 years of age.

I closed my eyes for a moment before we moved on.

As we entered the museum, there were quite a few docents of all ages waiting to answer questions for the visitors lining up at the doors. It appeared many were veterans of a different era, but all were eager to greet and offer information about each and every exhibit the museum had to offer.

And there is a lot to see in the various hangars located at the museum, but first, we were interested in the guests who were waiting by a check-in counter located at the end of the large glass foyer. 

These folks were anxiously awaiting their scheduled flight with one of the Warbird planes available to the public. These flights take approximately 60 minutes to complete with at least 20 to 30 minutes in the air allowing an individual the chance for a bird’s eye view of the entire Coachella Valley and perhaps a fly-over of Salton Sea.

Numerous pristine, iconic planes are available, to choose from and the price for a ride varies based in part on the fuel consumption for each craft. The cheapest seat in the house is aboard the famous C-47 Transport which was used to ferry troops and provisions to different locales during WWII. It is probably best known for delivering paratroopers on D-Day with the invasion by the allies into France.

A biplane ready for passengers at the Palm Springs Air Museum

The most expensive ride available is the two-seater T-33 Shooting Star. This Lockheed mid-1940s fighter was the first jet to be utilized by what was called the United States Army Air Force.

There are more planes to choose from, all meticulously maintained and flown by experts.

“Which plane are you going to jump into?” Laureen asked.

I felt my wallet shrink in my back pocket and chose instead to purchase a t-shirt featuring the Warbird, Man O’War. This P-51 Mustang was built in February of 1945 and shipped to England, but was too late to see any wartime action. Now, folks can sit in the back seat and enjoy the maneuvers this plane can deliver. 

“A t-shirt?” Laureen asked.

“I’ll embellish the purchase,” I replied.

P-51 on display at the Palm Springs Air Museum

The hangars at the air museum include not only aircraft from various eras, all dealing with military service, but also other modes of transportation.

John R Beyer by a WWII military Jeep

While wandering here and there, my eyes took in a gorgeous, olive drab Indian motorcycle used by the United States Army. A light brown leather seat and saddlebags gave the machine a look as though it were ready for a mission of utmost importance at any moment.

“Maybe we should buy a motor . . .” I started.

“Nope,” came a reply to my right. I did not even bother to turn, I recognized it, and moved on to the next exhibit.

Large models of Navy ships take up almost an entire wall of one of the hangars. Detailed information of each is readily available for visitors to learn where the ships were built, where they served during military action, and the final disposition of such ships.

A pair of huge WWII Japanese deck binoculars give the appearance they are still in use, waiting to spot an approaching American fighter or bomber headed their way.

WWII Japanese ship binoculars

Walking through any museum is a learning experience for all ages. Laureen and I used to take the girls to museums quite often, and to this day they still marvel at how much fun they had during those visits.

“We went to what?” Kelly still asks.

Erica would chime in then, “Remember when Dad would drag us . . .” 

“I’d rather read the book,” was uttered more than once by Jessica.

I generally stop listening at that point.

It is amazing to view all the aircraft jammed into the hangars at the museum. Not haphazardly, but carefully orchestrated like an oil masterpiece. Much like the Monet I have hanging next to my neon Miller Lite sign.

Guide ropes allow guests a chance to get a close up view of the exhibits while at the same time not allowing those same guests to touch the exhibits with their dirty greasy hands.

Perhaps those ropes were meant for me.

There are pilotless drones hanging from the ceilings, helicopters hanging from the ceilings, and ceilings hanging from the ceilings. 

Writing about the helicopters, and there are a lot of them on display. There is Bell H-13 Sioux, a Bell AH-1 Huey Cobra, a Bell UH-1 Iroquois, and a Heck-of-a-Bell Sasquatch.

There is everything available for the aviationist geek located within and outside of the museum, enough to spend hours upon hours gawking.

WWII German anti-aircraft gun

One of Laureen’s favorite was the dark blue Chance Vought F-4U Corsair. This was the plane used by the United States Navy during WWII that flew off the decks of the humongous aircraft carriers. The powerful Pratt and Whitney behind the long propeller indicated nothing but power.

As I was snapping a photograph of the Corsair, I suddenly heard a man grunting near me while saying something like, “Ooh - ooh, more power.”

“Was that Tim Allen?” Laureen asked.

The Palm Springs Air Museum has created a wonderful real-time experience for visitors in honoring all the military branches and learning what part each of those branches played in keeping this awesome country of ours free.

It should be noted that in one hangar stands the Lockheed Martin F-117A Nighthawk. The lights in the building are low. There are subtle red lights beneath the fuselage giving the fighter an ominous look. A guest can get a glimpse of what this plane would look like as it suddenly swept over an enemy at night.

The F-117 A Nighthawk at the Palm Springs Air Museum

Is the combat fighter a mockup or the real thing?

I was sworn to secrecy.

For more information: https://palmspringsairmuseum.org/

 As I gazed upon the sun-catching aluminum side of the Airstream trailer, there was something missing.

Custom made Airstream with no windows on one side

“Do you notice that windows are only on the front, rear, and the entry door side?” asked Jared Pearce, Senior Director of Retail and Food and Beverages for the AutoCamp Hospitality Group.

The other folks on this tour looked confused. I was not - trailers routinely have windows on all sides, otherwise it would be like camping in a coffin.

I raised my hand to show I actually can notice the obvious, despite what my lovely wife, Laureen, believes. Jared ignored my hand waving in the early morning sun in the town of Joshua Tree. 

I felt right at home.

Unique entrance to the main guest lobby

“These are specially manufactured Airstream trailers for the AutoCamp Hospitality Group,” Jared continued. “They are thirty-one feet long with tiled floors, glass walled showers, and other amenities that are not offered in their trailers for the average consumer. Thus, the reason for one side not having windows.”

And, the reason Jared?

He explained that at the AutoCamp in Joshua Tree, they wanted guests to have privacy. So no camp can have looky-loos with their noses smashed against a window seeing what the other campers were having for dinner next door, or if they are wearing clothes while eating that dinner outside.

Lots of trailers to choose from at the Joshua Tree AutoCamp

I had been invited to attend a promotional event at the AutoCamp in Joshua tree by July Zaleski, a public relations guru for Jam Collections, who wanted to showcase this unique style of camping.

No, there were no remunerations - I went because I like camping. I was brought up by parents who loved the outdoors. My father liked roughing it in the woods, and my mother liked having her coffee in the exterior seating area of her favorite bistro.

So checking out a campground sounded good to me, and off I went to the town of Joshua Tree to learn what I could learn.

This was no standard campground.

Not far from the Joshua Tree National Park is a huge developed portion of desert reserved for those visitors who love the outdoors, dark night skies, pleasantly laid out paths around native desert plants, unbelievably comfortable quarters, and just a feeling of relaxation.

I was so relaxed that I fell asleep in a comfortable cushioned armchair situated on an exterior patio overlooking a sparkling blue pool, which also has an amazing view of the majestic mountains on the  northeastern section of the national park.

Large comfortable pool with loungers for guests to enjoy

The relaxation was so wonderful that I dreamed - I dreamed I’d lay myself down to rest in a big field of tall grass. I laid there in the sun and felt it caressing my face. . .

“Those are the lyrics from Eric Burden’s nineteen-seventy song, Spill the Wine,” a voice interrupted my slumber.

It was Heather Villanueva, another public relations big-wig from Jam Collections. “Do you want to join the group for the tour?”

Had I actually been so comfortable in that gorgeous site I had expressed my dreams out loud in song?

I once asked Laureen if I sang when I slept, she being the loving spouse just looked at me, “I wouldn’t call it singing. More like a herd of goats running wild.”

According to Heather, “At this AutoCamp we really wanted to mix the camping experience with the uniqueness of the desert. As you can see, all the lighting here is designed to point downward toward the ground so as not to interfere with the night skies.”

The nearby national park of Joshua Tree is a registered Dark Sky area and the Joshua Tree AutoCamp wanted to honor that. Guests have plenty of lighting so as not to trip and fall on those pointy-hurty cacti that are growing along the well defined dirt pathways all through the area. 

“We sponsor star-gazing parties here once or twice each month,” stated Amanda Wasnock, General Manager. “A lot of people love to come and just marvel at the heavens, and our guest speakers not only bring high quality telescopes but fun stories to match the exciting views of the skies above us.”

The camp also has various other speakers to entertain the guests about Native American heritage, the local history of Joshua Tree, the geological makeup, weather patterns, and the last time the Dogman was sighted in the vicinity.

AutoCamp has 55 rooms available for guests to stay in around the large park (including numerous ADA compliant spaces). The rooms are actually the very roomy Airstreams that are spread out over the entire site allowing each one plenty of room for privacy for the visiting folks.

Each site has a covered patio, fire pit, plenty of room, and some even have outdoor showers for those visitors who really want to enjoy all the wonders of nature. Possibly a good reason for no windows on the facing Airstream.

Group firepits to sit around and chit-chat

As I walked into a few of the upscale trailers available to occupy, I was very impressed with the roominess and classy decor. Bougie all the way - and I don’t even know what the term means, but my daughter Erica uses it to mean a place that is really cool and worth staying at.

“Since these are actually real Airstreams,” Jared said, “They have to be registered by the DMV. But, we don’t want to move them since they are so heavy with all the upgrades our company has installed.”

As I wandered away from the group, as I usually do in group settings, I found myself watching a couple of families enjoying the nearby playground. Children climbing on ladders. Children swinging on swings. Children ignoring commands from their parents, and the parents ignoring commands from their children.

It was a delightful scene.

I noticed folks sitting within a very artistically crafted outdoor meeting area just east of the huge entrance lobby. It is hard to describe - perhaps a humongous wine cask cut in half, large enough for fifty adults to sit in. The interior of this Quonset Hut designed building is protected from the wind, sun, rain, allowing each guest a chance to enjoy the wonders of the outdoors in comfort.

A photograph would better explain what the room looked like and perhaps my editor, Eric, may include one - if not, that’s cool.

“We host a lot of company gatherings and retreats here,” Amanda said. “Those people you see are from all around the world, primarily working remotely. But this is the second year they have stayed at our complex. Each has their own Airstream and they gather for their meetings daily under the cover of the corporate space available. Of course, we also arrange tours of the park, give advice on local eating establishments, and anything else that will make their stay that much more memorable. Then again, we do that for all our guests.”

Joshua Tree AutoCamp welcomes corporate meetings

The camp also offers a good variety of food which can be enjoyed back at individual campsites or eaten at the numerous tables, chairs, and other locations near the entrance hall. A large gift shop sporting comfortable leather furniture and a fireplace has the rudimentary offerings any tourist may need - toiletry items to bottles of wine. They cover it all for the road traveler.

Of special interest is a full bar of adult libations. They even have a daily happy hour, but since I wouldn’t be there at that time, I was not a bit happy.

One interesting note is that no guest vehicles are allowed within the camping area itself.

“Our guests park outside the quarters so as not to interfere with the natural aspects of the Autocamp ideal,” July said. “A guest enters through the keyed gate, park their vehicle, unload what they need into our wheeled carts, and make their way to their designated room. In this aspect, people do not have to deal with the comings and goings of vehicles which could ruin their stay here.”

There are even bikes to guests to utilize

I liked that. And looking around the camp, I understood the ideology behind AutoCamp. An atmosphere of natural beauty, with as little human footprint as possible, and allowing us mere humans to sit back and take it all in.

But as Laureen packs for any outing, I wondered if a Sherpa would be available.

For more information: AutoCamp Joshua Tree - ReservationDesk.com