Saying Goodbye to Coco

On Friday, 30 November, 2012, the Oregon Zoo's oldest resident, a chimpanzee named Coco, was euthanized after her caregivers determined that her condition had deteriorated to the point that she no longer had a good quality of life. You can find more details about that decision in Katy Muldoon's article in The Oregonian, "Oregon Zoo says goodbye to Coco the chimp, its oldest animal." Below is the article I wrote for the Zoo Volunteer newsletter.

There’s no one around who remembers the day Coco arrived at the Zoo in 1961. Her record in the first historical chimpanzee studbook listed her parents as ‘UNK’ (unknown) rather than wild, but it is assumed that she was captured in Africa as a baby and sold into the pet trade. She was estimated to be about 9 years old when she came to us.

 

Within about two years she started having babies, fathered by Bill, the resident male. Accurate records weren’t kept in those days, but it appears Coco may have had as many as a dozen babies (including some twins) before our girl Delilah was born in 1973. In the wild, a chimpanzee has four babies on average in her lifetime. But while Coco was having babies, she wasn’t getting to be a mom. Some of the babies may have died very young. Some were taken from her so they could be sent to other zoos. By the time Delilah came along, she didn’t seem to know how to take care of an infant. So they pulled Delilah and then  Leah and Leah’s twin sister Rachel and put them in a nursery where humans took care of them. That was routine for the time. It was only in 1981, after having spent several years in the enrichment program learning sign language, that the youngsters (including Charlie and Chloe) were introduced to Coco and the other adult females.

 

In 1975, when the Primate area was under new management, Coco had a baby girl, Josie. Coco’s keepers worked to help her realize her potential as a mother. They didn’t take the new baby away from her, even when she got agitated and tried to shove little Josie at them. They encouraged her to nurse her baby and left them alone as much as possible so they were able to bond. Coco demonstrated that she could be a mom. A very good mom. She also raised David (b. 1983) and Joshua (b. 1989), her two sons by Charlie.

 

It was when Josh was still a baby that I first met Coco. At almost 40 she was already old for a chimpanzee, and she was mothering an energetic and willful little boy. I remember watching as she would climb into her sleeping nest and wrap the fidgety kid in her arms so that only his head and maybe one arm would be free. Only then could she nap in peace. Eventually Josh got bigger – and more mischievous – and he went to the Kansas City Zoo in 1995 to start his own family. Coco didn’t have any more babies.

 

As chimpanzees go, Coco wasn’t a charmer like Charlie. She didn’t engage the public like Delilah or Chloe. Instead of looking visitors in the eye, she seemed to look right past them. Maybe it was her early treatment by humans, or maybe it was just her personality. Over the years she experienced a lot of losses. Her babies were taken from her. Later the children she raised were sent away. In 1999  she lost Debbie, the old friend with whom she had spent so many years since arriving in Portland.

 

In October 2002 the Zoo held a 50^th birthday party for Coco. We didn’t know what month she was born. We weren’t even sure what year she was born, but it seemed right to celebrate her life. She was very old, and we didn’t know how much longer she would be with us. It might have been around that time that I started saying goodbye to Coco. Every time I was about to leave the Primate building, I would stop and say goodbye as though I might never see her again.

 

Coco kept getting older and more frail. One day several years ago she decided not to go out anymore. She must have figured she couldn’t handle the walk up the incline from the outdoor moat. Later she decided to stop climbing up to the nesting areas. She lived her last couple of years on the ground, bedding down on straw and blankets and hand-made quilts provided by staff and volunteers who were dedicated to making the old girl as comfortable as possible. I kept saying goodbye, hoping she would have a gentle end.

 

Her vision seemed to be failing. She had difficulty walking and grasping, but she was determined to keep going. She always seemed to have an appetite for the fresh produce and chow set out for her, and she seemed to enjoy all the treats the keepers used to cover up the taste of the pain medication she needed. She also seemed to be mellowing. When I came up to the window, instead of ignoring me she would acknowledge me with a nod and sometimes even get up and shuffle over to see me. And when I left, I made sure to say goodbye, Coco.

 

Then in late November, as the Zoo was preparing for the birth of a baby elephant, the call came. Coco had taken a turn for the worse. Do you want to come in tomorrow to say goodbye? One last time, I said goodbye, Coco.

 

NOTE: Coco is survived by daughters Delilah and Leah at the Oregon Zoo and by Josie at the Chattanooga Zoo and Rachel at the Kansas City Zoo. She also has four granddaughters and a great-granddaughter. Back in 2000 I traveled around the country and met all of Coco’s known offspring and their offspring who were alive at that time, but I was never able to uncover any information about her missing babies.

Memories of a very special chimpanzee

On September 17, Oregon Zoo's much-loved chimpanzee Charlie died suddenly. I wrote this article for the Zoo Volunteer newsletter. For more information about Charlie, see the wonderful, feature-length article that appeared in The Sunday Oregonian on May 23, 2009, "Prince of the Zoo: Charlie the Chimp Reigns at the Oregon Zoo."

About 40 years ago a chimpanzee was born in Africa near the Liberia-Sierra Leone border. He was very intelligent, and he might have grown up to become the leader of his community, fathered several offspring and died as he had lived, in anonymity. But instead, some hunters killed his mother and the baby chimpanzee was stolen out of the forest. He was rescued, given the name Charlie and eventually ended up at the Oregon Zoo where he became a much-loved ambassador for his species.

Everybody who got to know Charlie felt they had a special relationship with him. And they were right, because Charlie made people feel special. When I tried to explain it to visitors, I said, “Think about going to a public event or reception. People are standing around in groups talking, but you don’t know anyone. Charlie is that person who comes up to you, says ‘hello’ and makes you feel welcome.”

That was Charlie, the host of the Oregon Zoo. He came up to the window, looked you in the eye and held your gaze. He picked you out of a crowd and signed, “Chase me.” He recognized you as an individual, someone worth communicating with. Over the years, countless numbers of people -- staff, volunteers and frequent visitors to the Zoo -- were won over by Charlie’s welcoming personality. They kept returning to get that special treatment, to feel that connection.

My first memorable Charlie moment came around six months into my first year as a ZooGuide. As an Animal Talker in Primates I had learned to recognize Charlie and had been through many rounds of Chase Me. I figured that Charlie recognized my red volunteer shirt and the white visor I always wore. Late one gray November afternoon I came to the Zoo for a meeting and stopped by for a quick visit with the chimps. I was wearing a business suit – and no white visor. I approached Charlie’s side of the indoor exhibit. He wasn’t there. Probably up in holding where he could enjoy some privacy. I moved over to the left side of the exhibit where little Joshua, Charlie’s son, was always eager for attention. As Josh and I raced back and forth, I heard “Tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap.” I turned and saw that Charlie had come down from holding. He was standing up and tapping on the glass, trying to get my attention. Charlie recognized me! Me. Not the red shirt and white visor. He recognized me, and he wanted my attention. It’s a moment I’ve never forgotten.

It’s been almost 17 years since that day I realized Charlie saw me as an individual. During those years, Charlie inspired me to learn more about chimpanzees, and he helped teach me a lot more than I could get just from books. He also patiently taught me what it meant to be one of “Charlie’s women.” Don’t walk by his exhibit without stopping to say “hi” – or, at least, don’t let him see you walk by. Don’t turn your back on him when talking to visitors. Don’t stand too close to other males. And always, always follow his “chase me” command.

As we both grew older and I became more of a fixture, Charlie didn’t pay as much attention to me. Games of chase became less frequent and less vigorous. When I arrived at the upper outdoor viewing area, he no longer rushed down from the climbing structure to greet me. Sometimes he barely acknowledged me, although I could usually catch him looking to make sure I was still paying attention to him and watching to see where I was heading. During feedings, after I’d handed Charlie the last piece of fruit – and Charlie always got the last piece; it was a rule – he’d sometimes hang around or lead me to the back of the holding area for a little more face time. But just about as often, he’d get up and leave me sitting there with the empty bucket.

Even though Charlie seemed to take me for granted in recent years – and maybe I took him for granted, too – I knew that he trusted me. And I felt honored to have his trust.

Charlie was getting grayer and moving a bit slower, but we all thought he had many more years to watch over the Zoo. We imagined him exploring and taking ownership of the new exhibit that would be built with the funds from last year’s bond measure. We never imagined the Zoo without Charlie.

I believe that when someone dies, they live on in the hearts of the people whose lives they touched. Charlie will live for many years in the memories we’ll each treasure and in the stories we’ll share with people who never got to meet him -- stories about his intelligence, his dignity, his grace, his willingness to let us into his world.

Goodbye, Charlie. It was a privilege to know you.

After a long hiatus: Chimp Lessons

A few years ago, a special experience with some chimpanzees who had just been released from life in a research facility inspired me to write down some lessons I’ve learned from the many hours I’ve spent watching and studying chimpanzees. Some colleagues encouraged me to share these lessons on my blog. So here goes:

What Chimpanzees Have Taught Me About Surviving (and Thriving) in a Corporation

1. 1. Whether you spend most of your time in a group or on your own, you are part of a larger community.
2. 2. Build alliances.
3. 3. Keep track of who grooms whom.
4. 4. Know which trees bear fruit … and when.
5. 5. From time to time you need to display some attitude.
6. 6. Know when to stop screaming.
7. 7. Sometimes the bully wins.
8. 8. Dominance is temporary.
9. 9. Be resilient.

Lesson #6 was actually the first I wrote down. It was inspired by a chimpanzee named Hannah who was having a difficult time during introductions to her new group at Save The Chimps. You can learn more about Hannah and work of Save The Chimps at their newly redesigned website, which has lots of great videos.

Picture. Pictures. Pictures. And a map.

Finally got a selection of photos uploaded to a Google photo album and have started posting a subset to a Google map. Not done yet, but please check it out.

This link goes to the map. Balloon markers indicate overnight stops and include brief comments. Push pin markers indicate a photo. (As I headed east, the stops got closer together, so you will need to zoom in -- using the + sign -- to unclump the markers.)

This link goes to the photo album, which has about 130 photos with brief descriptions.

Let me know what you think -- or if you have trouble using the map or album.

Pictures will be coming ... really

I've started playing around in Google Maps. So far, I've plotted out the route I followed. Next step will be to post selected photos at points on the map. I'll put the link to the map on this blog when it's got some photos to look at. Stay tuned.

Life goes on

Car tasks done: tires rotated, oil changed, inside/outside professionally cleaned. Water heater fixed. Accumulated STUFF gradually being sorted and put away.

Went back to work on Thursday. I had to read the names on the aisle headers to remember where I sit in the cube farm. Discovered that my colleagues had decorated my cubicle as a "primate habitat" with a monkey-print curtain and straw-like material on the floor and chair. Gummy dinosaurs decorated the desk and car stickers decorated the computer monitor.

Got back to work at the Oregon Zoo yesterday, cleaning up the orangutan exhibit and holding area. Routine is setting in, but I'm trying not to go back to bad habits -- which I don't intend to confess here.

I've actually started sorting and organizing my photos and am looking into posting albums on Google so I can link to them from this blog. Maybe even link them to a Google map. We'll see.

I may be updating this blog occasionally with trip observations I've collected in my head and in writing. Please check back.

HOME

Day 62 was a beautiful day of driving up the Oregon Coast. Blue skies with snatches of fog. Scenic views of the ocean. I thought about all the places I'd visited in the past two months. The Grand Canyon. The Petrified Forest National Park. The Badlands. The scenic back roads in different states. Some truly memorable scenery. But for me, when it comes to the can't-pull-myself-away factor, there is nothing like the Oregon Coast. I could sit for hours and just watch the waves crash against the rocks. I don't want to leave until it stops ... but it doesn't stop.

I'd intended to spend some time on the beaches, but by the time I got to some of the places I wanted to sit, the tide was coming in. I did pull off briefly at Bandon and in several places in Yachats, including my favorite spot, Devil's Churn. (That's where I'd like my ashes tossed, although I'm guessing it's probably illegal.)

Stopped for an oyster burger at Mo's in Florence and made a quick bio/shopping stop at the Lincoln City outlet mall. It was 5:30 and just getting dark by the time I headed east toward Beaverton.

I've done the Lincoln City to Portland route in the dark before. The drive through the Van Duzer Forest can be kind of fun. But last night it was a bit of an ordeal. It wasn't the dark that bothered me, it was the light. There was so much traffic coming in the opposite direction, headlights were almost constantly shining in my eyes. I just kept looking at the white line on my right and making sure I paid attention to all the directional signs because I could not see any landmarks. My favorite detour over Chehelam Mountain from Newburg was out of the question.

Got home at just about 8PM. Unloaded car. Still have lots of unpacking to do. Also a couple of loads of laundry, but that may have to wait.

When I got home I remembered to reset my water heater, which I had turned to Vacation setting. This morning when I went out to my car, I noticed that the garage floor was wet, and it must have been quite a bit of water because boxes sitting on the floor were fairly well soaked. Figured it had something to do with restarting the water heater and pressure. Good thing I had not just unloaded the car and left the stuff sitting there.

Went out for breakfast and to the Zoo. When I got home late this afternoon, I found water coming from a pipe that runs up the side of the water heater. It was coming out the top of the heater and pouring down the pipe. The floor was all wet again -- very wet -- and I couldn't figure out how to make it stop. In my panic I turned off a gas valve. After several calls and a call back, I reached someone through the company that did the installation. He assured me that the gas will not be leaking as it shut itself off when I turned the knob. By the time he called, the water had diminished to a trickle. I think I have managed to shut it off so the water heater does fill up again. But now I have no hot water. He said it seems to be an easily fixed malfunction and that he MIGHT be able to get someone to come out tomorrow sometime.

So, the few dollars I might have saved by turning down the water heater will be nothing compared to the service call by the plumber. To put a positive spin on the experience: at least it didn't happen the day I left town.

ABOUT PHOTOS: I will be going through my pictures and figuring out the best way to get a sampling into this blog. Not sure whether I will go back and post selected photos in old posts or maybe make some sort of online annotated album. Stay tuned.

ABOUT THE ZOO: After the Keeper Chat, I stopped by the primate house. Chimp Delilah responded to my sudden reappearance after 2 months by getting up from her nap and coming over to the window as soon as she saw me. Charlie only came out later when fruit was delivered, and I'm no match for bananas and oranges; he barely acknowledged me. Then I stopped by orangutans and was surpised when old Inji immediately came down from her perch up near the holding area. She may have been more interested in the plastic bag I was carrying than in my return, but I was touched that she came over to the window to greet me so quickly.

Day 61 -- Near disaster on next-to-last day

Woke up at 8AM!!! (I don't remember the last time I slept that late.) Left Ukiah (which I finally found out IS pronounced "yu-KAI-ah") and continued north.

It was a pleasant drive through the redwoods and up and down the mountains. Sometimes the sky was clear and blue. Sometimes I was driving through fog. Sometimes I was driving through deep, dark woods. Not a lot of traffic most of the time.

Just after the spot where Route 1 joins US-101, I got a scary reminder that those yellow signs with the silhouettes of leaping wildlife mean something. As I rounded a curve a deer leaped in front of the car. I was able to brake in time and missed it by maybe three feet. If I hadn't been able to stop, I would have hit the buck (antlers and all) full on as he was standing in the middle of my lane. Whew. That makes the heart race. A few miles beyond that incident, on a side road next to 101, I saw two more deer just scampering about the side of the road. They didn't seem concerned that I had stopped and was watching them.

No more adventures, thankfully. Except for lunch in Garberville, no stops. No detours. No sightseeing. By 4PM I was crossing the state line into Oregon. I was debating whether to stop for the night in Brookings or to try to cover more miles -- to leave a shorter drive for tomorrow -- but the lodging options seemed best here. So Brookings is where I will sleep.

Tomorrow I plan to stop and enjoy a few beach walks along the way. Maybe try to find some agates. If I make good time, I can try to locate the area north of Newport where fossils are supposed to be easy to find. High tide is around 6AM and 6PM, so it will be at it's lowest around noon. The weather is supposed to be good. I don't care if I get home after dark.

This is definitely (probably) the final post from the road. Bye.

Day 60 -- I changed my mind ... again and again

After studying the map last night, I still wasn't sure what route I would take to get home. The only way I could do it in two days would be to take I-5 all the way, and there was no way I was going to do that. I don't like driving odd-numbered (north-south) interstates, and I really, really want to see the Oregon Coast.

I figured I could take US-101 all the way. Three days of driving, some nice scenery even before Oregon. But getting around San Francisco looked pretty complicated. I'd have to take several different highways before getting back onto 101.

Then I looked at Route 1 out of Monterey. I could take it along the coast and right through San Francisco and across the Golden Gate Bridge and then get on 101. That's what I would do. (Pretty much the same route I took 7 years ago.)

With that decided, I started looking longingly at Route 1 all the way up the coast after San Francisco. Google Maps doesn't make it easy to figure the mileage on Route 1. Can't always find it. So I hadn't computed the mileage and travel time going that way and wasn't sure how much it would add to the trip. I began to negotiate with myself: If I get to the other side of SF by around noon, I'll take Route 1. A little before noon, when I was stopping for lunch south of SF: If I get across the Golden Gate Bridge by 1 and the fog has cleared, I'll take Route 1.

Lunch took longer than planned. By the time I was driving through SF it was almost 2PM. Then I thought about the trip 7 years ago. I had driven through SF and across the bridge during rush hour. The highway (101) was packed with cars all the way to Santa Rosa. Driving earlier in the day was smoother. Then I remembered something else: I had stopped for the night in Santa Rosa, and it took me the whole next day to get from there to Garberville by taking Route 1 -- and I didn't stop much along the way. OK. The super scenic route was out of the question.

But it wasn't a bad day of driving. I made an unplanned final tour of the Monterey Penninsula when I couldn't find Route 1 North and ended up going the wrong way. Except for the stretch around Santa Rosa, the traffic wasn't terrible. I did get a few peeks at the ocean through the fog, and the "wine country" landscape north of Santa Rosa is pretty. I'm spending the night in Ukiah. Tomorrow I will go through a redwood forest and back out to the coast. Then Saturday it will be Oregon Coast most of the way.

Gawd, I love the ocean. I don't know which I love more, chimpanzees or the ocean.

Maybe THIS will be my last post from the road. Maybe not. After tomorrow night I get to sleep in my own bed!!!

Day 59 -- Four-hour Watching Cruise

I set the motel alarm clock last night so I would be sure to get up in time to catch the early Whale Watch Cruise: check-in at 8:30AM. I woke up 9 minutes after the alarm should have sounded. Each alarm clock is different. This one apparently has a volume dial for the buzzer and it can be turned all the way down -- and it was. Who designs these things? Why in the world would someone want to set an alarm to wake them up and set the buzzer to be silent?

When I was washed and dressed I went to get breakfast in the motel front office and found the door locked. I could see that the breakfast items were set out, but no one was answering calls to open the door. Finally roused someone about 15 minutes later.

Drove downtown to one of the lower cost garages and walked the rest of the way to the wharf and got myself signed up for the 9AM cruise that was to last 4-5 hours. This is the longest one offered by any of the companies. It was very foggy at the motel, but blue sky was visible from the waterfront. There were only about 20 people signed up for the cruise, so there was plenty of room on the 70-foot boat that could hold about 60 passengers. And off we went.

The hat and scarf I bought in Flagstaff in anticipation of cold winds at the Grand Canyon sure came in handy. Some of the passengers spent all their time on the stern. (Engine fumes. Ugh.) Some spent a lot of time in the cabin. Some of them were sleeping, probably because they took Dramamine. A few looked like they wish they'd taken Dramamine. I stood practically the whole trip at the rail on the bow. I wanted to be the first to see a whale spouting water and shout, "Whale at 4 o'clock!"

I've been on a whale watch cruise at Cape Cod and another in Oregon. Both times we saw one or two whales -- and in Massachusetts the whale came next to the boat and sprayed us -- but I've never gotten to witness any dramatic whale activities like spy hopping or breaching. This time, with up to 5 hours on the boat, I was hoping to see some action. And plenty of whales. So I watched. And watched.

We saw all kinds of sea birds and more sea lions than you could count. Sea lions look much more athletic in the open water than they do hauled up on the jetty. (Ahrr. Ahrr. Ahrr.) In the harbor we saw a lone otter and around hour three I may have spotted a harbor seal or two. At one point the captain slowed the ship down so we could see a sunfish, a large, strange-looking deep-water fish that sometimes floats on its side near the surface. And some white-sided dolphins rode the bow wave of the ship briefly -- too briefly and quick to be able to get a picture.

And I continued to watch, but we never saw a hint of a whale. (One of the crew wondered whether it might have something to do with the earthquake.) After four hours, the whale-less watching cruise returned to port. I noticed that they had cancelled their 2PM cruise. We must be special because this doesn't happen very often, and this particular company guarantees a whale sighting or the next trip is free. So I left with a card for a free whale watching cruise. No expiration.

It wasn't a waste of time. I love boating, even when the water is a bit rough -- as long as I'm not getting drenched with cold water. I can't remember when I last spent that much time out on a boat. When I lived in Monterey I took sailing lessons in the bay. Private lessons. Just me, the instructor and a 19- or 21-foot boat. (Depending on which was available at the time of my weekly lesson.) Half of my final "exam" was to go out without the instructor (and come back). He recommended that I recruit a friend to accompany me, so I invited a guy named Steve who had no sailing experience. A few weeks after I was officially "certified" I got a group of friends together -- including Steve -- and we chartered a small sail boat for half a day. Since I was the only one who knew anything about sailing, it was all on my shoulders and it was pretty tiring. I haven't sailed since I left Monterey.

Anyway, now I have a reason to return to Monterey sometime -- to collect on the whales they owe me.

Once I was on dry ground again, I visited a nearby history museum for a quick look around. Then I headed off on a nostalgia walk through Cannery Row to Pacific Grove. Thirty years ago I used to spend my Saturdays walking down from the Presidio, along the waterfront to and through Pacific Grove and along the highway back up to the Presidio. I stopped along the way to read and munch on a sandwich. It was a 10-mile walk. I didn't do the whole walk today. I think I walked about two miles -- in one direction.

Much has changed in 30 years, and much has remained the same. Cannery Row is now a major destination with the giant aquarium and big luxury hotels. I spotted an orange building set away from the others and recognized it as a place that used to be called Tia Maria's and was one of the few night life hot spots in the area. (It's now called El Torito.) When I got past the new hotels and ritzy shops, everything started to look familiar. The public path hugs the coast. I saw places where you can walk out onto the rocks -- and where I used to sit and read. I heard a faint "Tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap." It was an otter floating on its back in the kelp, cracking a shellfish against a rock on its stomach. Maybe it was the grandchild of one of the otters I used to watch.

I turned around at the "gray building" -- whatever that was -- because I knew I had to walk all the way back. I don't remember how much further the coast walk continues, but I didn't have the time or the stamina to find out.

I'd hoped to drive to Carmel to take a quick look around. But it was getting late and I was too tired. Besides, I'll be coming back to see the whales, right?

Tomorrow will be a long driving day, around or through San Francisco and/or Silicon Valley. I'm debating whether to try to get home in two days (Friday night) instead of three. I think I'll skip Route 1. Gorgeous but slow. And I've already seen so much great scenery. Maybe I'll save it for another trip to Monterey.

Not sure that I'll get all hot and bothered about trying to find a motel room with internet access the next night or two. That means that this may -- or may not -- be the last blog post from the road.

Day 58 -- Ah, Nature.

Got lots of exercise during four hours at Point Lobos State Reserve this afternoon. I don't know how far I walked, but I covered most of the pine needle carpeted trails along the north shore and the trail out to Sea Lion Point. Point Lobos is a gorgeous place. If I lived in Monterey I'm sure I'd spend plenty of time there. Hey. I did live in Monterey, but I never discovered Point Lobos until I visited 7 years ago.

The day had started out overcast, but by the time I arrived at Point Lobos the sun was shining. Still, a strong breeze was blowing and I was glad to find sunny spots where I could sit and get warm.

During my walk I saw only one sea otter, but there were plenty of birds, including herons, and seals and sea lions. ( Ahrr. Ahrr. Ahrr.) I spotted a heron in the bay a little ways from shore and wondered how shallow the water must be for it to be standing there. Later I saw one in the water close to the trail and realized they stand on rafts of seaweed and driftwood.

At one spot -- Bluefish Cove, I think -- there was a swarm of jelly fish. They appeared just as white spots below the surface of the water. I probably wouldn't have noticed them if someone hadn't pointed them out. With my binoculars I could see the individual jellies floating in the water.

I guess I'll have to set the alarm clock tonight. I plan to take a whale watching cruise tomorrow and the one I'm aiming for leaves early in the morning.

Oh, and on the subject of nature: If this is California, that must have been an earthquake.
This evening around 8PM, just as I was about to sit down for a dinner of leftovers, the upstairs neighbor began doing somersaults. At least that's what I thought at first. Then I realized it was an earthquake. A short while later I looked it up online and found it was a 5.6 centered a little bit northeast of San Jose. Apparently, there have been numerous aftershocks, but I haven't felt anything since the first jolt.

Day 57 -- Driving in the clouds

The free continental breakfast at the Morro Bay motel never materialized. Maybe it was because there were only 3 or 4 rooms occupied. No big deal. I figured I would find something on the road. Route 1, to be exact.

Around Cambria I saw a little village-y looking street and decided to pull off and look for a bakery. There was an internet cafe with frou-frou coffee drinks and baked goods. Just what I needed. While I nursed a mocha and cranberry scone the proprietor and I chatted about the town and about my travels. A few locals came in, including a young woman wearing fairy wings. For Halloween.

As I headed north, I looked for the funky little motel I'd stayed in 7 years ago. I remembered that it was just past the place where the elephant seals gather. I couldn't remember the name of the area, but apparently it is Piedras Blancas. I found the elephant seal site, but didn't see any motel. Then further up the road I passed it, but it looked like it might be out of business as there was no sign out front. It was pretty run down back then.

Then it was on into Big Sur as clouds came down to meet the road. I can't afford to stay at the Ragged Point Inn -- at least, not on this trip -- but I was intent on stopping there again to enjoy the view and maybe a hot blueberry muffin. (Yeah, yeah, I know. I'd just had a scone.) When I stopped there 7 years ago, the sky was bright blue, but today I could only catch brief glimpses of the coastline through the fog. There were no hoards of hummingbirds this time, but a single one did come out to greet me and I could hear others in the trees.

You can probably drive from San Simeon to Monterey in about 2 hours, but you can also turn it into a full day trip by stopping at the many view points and exploring the beach access trails. Today I made a quicker trip of it than I had previously. For one thing, the views were restricted by the clouds, but also the few routes down to the water were closed due to extreme fire hazard. There wasn't going to be any sitting on the rocks watching the waves this time. So I put on a tape of nature sounds mixed with soft music, rolled down the window, turned on the heat and enjoyed the drive. Even when a light rain began to fall, I kept the window open. I made a few stops along the way to take pictures or just marvel at the view and arrived in Monterey around 3PM.

I immediately located the motel I had picked out and got a room. With so much time left in the day, I decided to walk (about a mile) towards Fisherman's Wharf.

When I lived in Monterey 30+ years ago while attending the Defense Language Institute (DLI), I didn't drive. I walked, took the bus, and caught rides with friends. It was a long time ago. I have only vague memories of how the streets connect, and many landmarks have changed. But I managed to find the waterfront, have dinner and get back to my room. I plan to stay for two more days. List of activities include time at Point Lobos State Reserve, a visit to the Presidio where DLI is located, and maybe a whale watch cruise. The weather is supposed to improve.

Oh. And while I was at dinner the waiter asked if I was here for the conference -- the librarian conference. (Do total strangers think I look like a librarian?) I suddenly remembered that the Internet Librarian conference is in Monterey in late October or early November. I've been wanting to get my job to send me for years but have never managed to coordinate it. Maybe I can get in to see the exhibitors hall. I'm sure I'll find vendor invitations on my desk when I return to work next week.

Day 56 -- Congestion!

No. I'm not coming down with a cold. Today I drove from Laguna Hills in Orange Country to Morro Bay just north of San Luis Obispo: I-5 to US101 and just a short jaunt on Route 1. The whole way I was in traffic. Some nice scenery but no open road. Congested roads for 269 miles.

I'm glad I arranged my visit to my brother's home to run through Saturday night. Traffic would have been even heavier on Friday or Saturday, and I would not have been able to get such a good deal on the nice motel room I found -- if I had been able to find a room at all.

But at 4PM on a Sunday, I had my pick of many economical lodgings. Once I got checked in I went for a walk on the waterfront, just two blocks away. I found an information center that explained the local geography. Then I got my exercise checking out all the eating options. Most of the offerings were fried food (e.g., fish & chips, calamari & chips, clam strips & chips) but since I'd had fish & chips the day before I opted for clam chowder and a salad. It was so-so. Sometimes it's hard to be good.

Tomorrow I'll spend the day driving through Big Sur. Last time I did that -- 7 years ago -- it was an overcast day, which made the views very dramatic. Not sure what's in store for tomorrow, but the scenery on this part of the coast is always great. I plan to spend the next 2-3 nights in Monterey.

I just discovered that there's a new Jane Goodall special tonight on Animal Planet -- and I have cable in my room! So now I'll stop writing and settle down for a night of TV.

Day 55 ... I think

I haven't driven my car since arriving at my brother's home in Laguna Hills on Wednesday. The car sits in the driveway with a light covering of ash. The So. Cal. fires appear to be mostly under control, but many people have lost their homes and some have lost their lives. The smokey skies of the past two days have been replaced by cloud cover. And it even sprinkled a little today. Very little. No. Wait a minute. As I look out the window I see actual rain falling. This is good news.

We haven't spent a lot of time outside because of all the smoke and ash in the air, although today seems better. Driving has been replaced by eating. On Thursday we went to a Belgian restaurant. Friday we had dim sum for lunch and then went to a Brazilian restaurant. Today we had fish and chips at Dana Point for lunch and will go to Sam Woo's (my favorite) for dinner. I may not need to eat again until I return home a week from today.

Tomorrow I'll hit the road again. Plan is to take I-5 north to US-101 and spend the night somewhere near the start of Big Sur.

Day 52 -- So what happened to Route 66?

The plan today was to drive straight through to Laguna Hills for a visit with my brother and his family. I decided to continue driving on Route 66 until I hit the California state line and then switch to I-40. Route 66 would take me through some small towns and up over a mountain pass. It didn't work out that way.

I followed Route 66 through Kingman and through what appeared to be some sort of industrial area. Suddenly I found myself passing under I-40 and then in front of the car was a sign for Route 66 with arrows pointing right and left. Strange. I would have thought I should go straight. I took the left turn to go west and found myself on the I-40 on-ramp. I really think I should have gone straight, but the arrows said "Take your pick: right or left." I never saw another sign for Route 66 until I got to the point where I would have joined the interstate at the state line. No wonder the old road died. Weird directional signs routed people away from it. Conspiracy?

The gas prices in California are out of this world. From $2.75 a gallon at the last place I saw in Arizona, I ended up at a bump-in-the-interstate place that was charging $3.55. I only got two gallons and then got a fill-up in Victorville at $3.02.

After driving for 3 hours I took at break at a rest area and finished off the salad I'd had for dinner. (Interestingly, many budget motel rooms I've been in lately have refrigerators and microwaves.) I saw some ravens flying around and wondered whether they would raid the trash for any lettuce I didn't eat. Or maybe some of the cheese. Yes. I know they are meat eaters, but if you're hungry you might eat what you can get.

No sooner had I deposited the plastic bag and styrofoam clam-shell take-out container in the trash than a raven came over and started digging around. He was taking bites of something -- maybe the leftover cheese -- but mostly was pecking holes in the styrofoam and trying to pull out the plastic bag using his beak and foot. He finally dumped the now-empty styrofoam container on the ground and tackled the next layer of trash: leftovers from a fast-food joint. That's what he was really after. Ravens and crows recognize food wrappers. Unfortunately for the raven there was nothing but crumbled up paper wrappers, which he tossed to the ground.

When people walked past, the raven would fly away until the coast was clear. One woman came and set some little cinnamon rolls of the edge of the trash receptacle. The raven ignored them. Apparently he was only interested in meat. When I went over to pick up the trash he'd flung about, I noticed that the lettuce from my salad was in the receptacle. He'd just dumped it out.

After Barstow I began to see smoke in the sky. As I travelled further west, the smoke got thicker. At a few places the ground was obviously charred, and at one point I passed through an area that was burned on both sides of the highway. The winds seem to have died down, so maybe the fires will soon be under control. Here in Laguna Hills it looks like a thunderstorm is imminent, but it's the smoke. They'd love to get a heavy rain.

Not sure what's in the works for the next few days. Maybe I'll have time to organize the photos I've taken.

Day 51 -- Somtimes the drive is the destination

Glad I'd already decided not to get back up to the Grand Canyon for sunrise. I didn't feel motivated to get up and checked out of the motel in the dark. I got to the park in time for the 9AM ranger talk on fossils.

Ranger Paul, who works summers at the Grand Canyon, is a PhD student who is passionate about fossils. He told us how he got turned on to paleontology at the age of 9 when he found a trilobite fossil -- and pulled his treasured fossil out of his pocket and let us examine it. Then he took us on a walk to an area of the rim where fossils are at the surface, which was the bottom of a sea 270 million years ago.

He identified brachiopods, bivalves, horn corals, bryozoans, crinoids, and sponges. Then we strolled around looking for other examples. I found several, including a sponge fossil in the center of a concretion that had cracked open. Finally I find some fossils on my own and I can't take them home. Oh, well. At least I know I found them. And now maybe I'll be able to find some more at a place where I can keep them. It's not enough to know what a fossil looks like, you have to know where to look. Now I guess I'll have to study geology.

After the ranger talk, which lasted over an hour, I walked a bit along the rim and took more pictures. Looking down you could see little tiny people way down below on the trails. And little tiny people on little tiny mules. It looked like fun going down there -- but not so much fun hiking back up to the rim.

By about 12:30 I was leaving the park. An hour on US64 south to Williams and then west. I started out on I40, but when I stopped to get gas, I asked someone how much longer it would take to get to Kingman, AZ, if I got off the interstate and took historic route 66. The answer, just about 30 minutes more. I would be able to get there by around 5PM. So that's what I did.

Most of the way was rural. Scenic, but after the Grand Canyon any roadside landscape is going to be anticlimactic. One town looked like what you would expect, with lots of 1950s-looking motels and stores and vintage cars, but mostly it was just a pleasant drive. The only thing that really distinguished Route 66 from any other secondary road was the Burma-Shave signs. I arrived in Kingman just a few minutes after 5PM and quickly found a room that is both economical and more than adequate.

BTW, the weather is more comfortable. At the Grand Canyon the wind was down and the temperatures were up a little. Here in Kingman I may even need to turn on the air conditioning. In just a few days I went from sweaty and gritty to parched and chapped. My lips feel like crepe paper. What's next? Not smokey and ashen, I hope. As I plot the drive to Laguna Hills I'm keeping an eye on the state of the fires in California.

Day 50 -- Improvisation

The plan was to get going early so I could "do" the Grand Canyon in a day. But first I set out on foot to find a coffee shop I'd picked out of the phone book. It was just about two blocks away but by the time I got there, my eyes were all teared up from the cold and wind. I figured if it was this bad down in Flagstaff, it would be much worse up at the Grand Canyon. So I decided to take my time. I wouldn't be able to see much of anything through watery eyes, so why rush?

While I dawdled in my warm room I watched the morning news. Uh, oh. Wild fires in California north and south of my brother's home. The area immediately around his home looks okay, but how about the roads I need to travel to get there? And how about the roads to get from his place up to Big Sur? I'd thought I might drive through Malibu, but it's in flames. All of a sudden, all my plans were up in the air again.

It was about two hours to the Grand Canyon. As I drove through Flagstaff to get to US180, I spied out motels I might want to stay at if I decided to stay in the area another night. Then it was a pretty drive through a scenic ski area to US64, which goes up to the Grand Canyon -- and clear through it to the east. At the intersection of US180 and US64 -- an area not covered in any of my lodging guides -- there were several motels. More options.

Then I arrived in Tusayan, just 2 miles from the entrance to the national park. By this time I'd decided that I'd probably want to return to the park on Tuesday. I knew that I'd have to pay more than I usually do for a night's lodging, but I figured I would would mostly make up for it in drive time and gas saved. Around noon I finally entered the Grand Canyon National Park.

The place is overwhelming. And I don't mean just the size of it. There are so many options for what to do, what to see and how to get around, you could spend a half-day visit just trying to make up your mind. Then I started to feel a little woozy and mildly dispeptic. Figured it was the altitude, but it might have been the over-priced BLT I'd had in Tusayan. Or a combination of the two. I decided to spend today driving around the east side of the park -- 28 miles each direction -- and stopping at the various view points. I decided to hang around until sunset so I could see the changing colors of the canyon.

Good news is that it was not nearly as cold and windy as it had been down in Flagstaff. I never even had to put on my heavier coat, but the new warm hat was handy. And it's supposed to be a bit warmer Tuesday.

I'm glad I made the trip to the Grand Canyon, but it's probably not a place I'd go out of my way to visit again. Like the San Diego Zoo or Disney World, it's big and busy. Not restful. It was nowhere near as crowded as it would be in season, but there were plenty of visitors everywhere. At least half from other countries. And almost everywhere I stopped to take in the scenery, there were bunches of people talking -- loudly -- and always the smell of cigarette smoke. A ranger said that the real way to see the Grand Canyon is to hike into it but that only 5% of visitors ever get past the rim. But she also said that some of those trails get crowded.

I did see some wildlife. Lots of ravens in the air and on the ground. Toward the end of the day at each view point there was a raven strolling around the parking lot. I wondered if it might be the same one following me. There are also tufted-eared squirrels called Abert squirrels scampering about. Unfortunately, I think I ran over one. They don't seem to be too bright. The critter sat by the side of the road then ran out in front of my car. I heard a little "thunk" and when I looked in my rear-view mirror, I saw gray and white fur in the middle of the road. (I thought I hit a little rabbit one night in Alamogordo, but since I didn't hear or feel anything, maybe I missed it.) Oh well, at least the raven who was flying around nearby got dinner.

I was thinking about getting back to the park in time to see sunrise tomorrow, but I've changed my mind. I'll get there in time for the fossil talk at 9AM. Then I'll spend some time on the west side of the park. Maybe do part of the rim walk. Take the shuttle if the altitude gets to me. There are also some geology talks. Figure I will probably leave around noon, although I don't know where to.

Interestingly, Grand Canyon National Park is open 24 hours a day. You can come and go any time. There are even some evening programs. Also, there are no guard rails at many of the view points. There is nothing to stop someone from walking or falling over the edge. Happens several times a year. In fact, it happened earlier this month.

I'm glad I found a motel with internet access. I'm not getting a cell phone signal up here. And when I got to my room tonight I discovered there is no phone. I've looked at online maps of the California fires, and it looks like I may be doing some more improvising in the days ahead. Wildfires are nothing to be blase about.

Day 49 -- Isn't Arizona supposed to be hot?

I haven't been using an alarm clock since I left Oregon 7 weeks ago. Oh, I set the alarm to wake me up for mornings of the Chimpanzoo conference, but I always woke up well before the alarm sounded. Today I wanted to be sure to get up with plenty of time to arrive at the Petrified Forest National Park for the 10AM ranger talk, so I dug my alarm clock out of the suitcase. Dead battery. The room at the Reed Motor Lodge in Springerville had plenty of character: knotty pine wood paneling, lamps that were probably purchased in the 1950s, a strange counter at the back of the room. But no alarm clock. Oh, well. I woke up on my own.

It was a great drive to the national park. About 90 minutes. Changing landscape all along the way with fascinating rock formations. Makes me want to study geology so I can understand why the rocks are piled as they are. I arrived at my destination in time to see the video before the ranger talk. It was a good talk. Very informative. And the audience seemed very well informed, too. The Q&A got pretty detailed about how wood becomes petrified.

The ranger didn't say so, but the park is mis-named. There never was a forest at the site. It is an ancient flood plane where fallen trees collected after being washed downstream. But I guess Petrified Logjam National Park doesn't sound as good.

I followed the 28-mile route through the park and pulled off at most of the views. Some included short trails. I took plenty of pictures, but I'm not sure you can capture the views adequately with a camera. Chunks of petrified wood scattered across the landscape as far as you can see. Much of it is agatized and polished by nature. [Really, one of these days I will again post pictures to this blog. Maybe I'll go back and refresh. Or maybe I'll create a digital album. Someday.]

Before the area was made into a national monument and then park in the early part of the 20th century, people used to come and cart specimens away by the truckload. Some used dynamite to blow up petrified logs to get to crystals inside. Even today visitors pocket pieces, totaling tons every year. There is not a whole lot that can be done to stop someone who is intent on copping a souvenir despite all the signs -- and penalties. The film and the ranger both address the issue. With the receipt for your entrance fee, you get a bright green card to fill out if you see someone taking or defacing anything. And at each exit is a sign warning people to prepare to stop for a vehicle inspection. Apparently many people have second thoughts and send back the pieces they took. Some of the accompanying letters are featured in the film and in the visitor centers.

I wondered why we had a ranger talk and not a ranger walk. When I finally went outside to start exploring, I figured out why: cold wind. Whoa. Was it ever windy. Bright blue skies and relentless wind. Taking pictures was challenging because the wind made it hard to hold the camera steady. I'm expecting it to be even colder -- and maybe windier -- up at the Grand Canyon.

At 3PM I got on I-40 and headed toward Flagstaff. Plenty of traffic, including big trucks. Glad I was able to cover so much territory on secondary roads the few weeks. In Flagstaff I selected a motel on old Route 66. When I checked in the clerk offered me ear plugs. The railroad runs parallel to Route 66, and there is a nearby crossing. Toot, toot. Now I know why a few of the motels advertise "No train noise." I figure if I can (sort of) sleep through the sounds of partying chimps, train whistles shouldn't be much of a problem.

Stopped at a shopping mall just before closing and bought a hat for tomorrow. Something that will stay on my head AND keep my ears warm. I'll be pulling the heavier jacket out of the storage tub in the back seat, too. Hard to believe that not too long ago I was complaining about the heat and humidity.

Day 48 -- Great driving day ... with pie

Packed the car and then walked around the Alamogordo Save the Chimps facility saying goodbye to every primate I could find -- both human and non-human. Everyone was very gracious and thanked me for helping. I may see many of them again if I return to New Mexico in the next year or two or in Florida, where many will be going. Some names I can't remember and some I never got, but bye and thanks to Jen, Julene, Dr. B, Shari, Millie, Marlon, Dylan, Bernie, Sandra, Belinda, Cathy, Kelly, Danielle, Vince, Theresa, Pooh, Kiki, Vince, Clay, Cheetah, Mandy, and all the rest.

Then it was north on US54, backtracking about 60 miles that I drove to get to Alamogordo. Stopped at the Eagle Ranch Pistachio Groves again to pick up a selection of treats for my brother, whom I am now planning to visit. (Since he doesn't read my blog, the pistachios will be a surprise.)

At Carrizozo I turned west onto US380 and immediately started seeing interesting scenery: black lava beds dotted with big yucca plants and other vegetation on both sides of the highway. The landscape kept changing all along the route, and it was all fascinating. Mountains. Rock formations. Vistas. The view in the rear view mirror sometimes competed with the view up ahead and on each side.

I only drove for 8 miles on an interstate (I25) as I jogged north to Socorro and then continued west. I saw some signs that said VLA 40 miles (or some other number). I wondered what "VLA" meant. Was it something about road conditions for the next so many miles? Why would they assume that travelers would know what "VLA" was?

Traveling these roads through central New Mexico, you really need to plan ahead. You gas up and take bio breaks at large towns -- whether you need to or not. You can't trust that any other towns will have any kind of services what so ever. One speck on the map was apparently a rock shop and a house where you could buy "miracle soap." Rest areas are turnouts with a covered picnic table and a trash can. That's it. And those are generally few and far between.

After one little town that actually had some shops, I started to notice some dish antennae in the distance. Real big ones. Scattered on both sides of the road. Then I saw the sign "Very Large Array (VLA) Radio Telescope." VLA!!! I stopped at a turnout and took some pictures, but I didn't drive the 4 miles to the visitor center. Too many miles to cover today -- and I figured I could find out about it on the web.

Sometimes the road was straight with gentle hills. Sometimes it was steep and curvy. A long stretch was smooth black top. Like driving in a car commercial. The speed limit varied from 65 to 25 (going through towns). Cruise control came in handy especially on long straight-aways because it was easy to go way over the speed limit without meaning to. Going up over the continental divide I got to use my overdrive override -- or whatever that thing is called.

When I was studying the map last night I noticed that I would be passing a little place called Pie Town right on the other side of the continental divide. I wondered whether it really had anything to do with pies. Just outside Socorro -- and 100 miles before the divide -- I saw a sign about Pie Town and pies. Decided I would have to stop there for a snack.

Pie Town is just a kink in the road, but there are actually two restaurants that sell pies. I stopped at Daily Pie, the one on the billboards I'd seen. I was lucky to get there just 20 minutes before they were set to close for the weekend. I had my pie -- a cherry, blueberry, raspberry, blackberry concoction called Mayberry pie -- and chatted with the people behind the counter about how the town got its name. You can read about that on the town website -- although I was told there are several versions.

It wasn't much farther to Springerville, AZ, where I'd decided to stop for the night. Had to shop around a bit for a motel because the town is not covered in AAA or in the discount booklets. But it was the closest place west of the Petrified Forest National Park with several motels. I took advantage of the hour I'd gained crossing into Arizona and drove just out of town to a wildlife area and walked the trail. Didn't see much besides ducks and a lot of grasshopper-like insects, but I needed the exercise.

Now I really must get to bed early. It's about 90 minutes to the park and I want to get there before 10AM when there will be a ranger talk/walk about the geology.

[The rooms on both sides of me have been empty, but I just heard some people enter the room that has an adjoining door. And I just heard a dog bark. Yeesh. The walls at this place are not very thick.]

Day 47 – Beginning of the end

Spent last night online figuring out routes. I want to be home no later than two weeks from tomorrow, but there’s still plenty to see and do. Petrified Forest National Park. Grand Canyon. The California Coast, including Big Sur. My brother?

Got to bed later than I should have and didn’t sleep very soundly. For some reason the chimps were making a racket much of the night. In addition to the vocalizations (screaming), they were beating on the metal doors, each one trying to out do the other in volume.

Today was my last day of volunteering on the trip. More laundry. More raisin boards. And I filled bottles with a mixture of apple sauce and raisins by hand – literally. How often do you get to dip your hand into a big bowl of applesauce? And tomorrow will be the last of the chimps until I get back to Oregon.

Tonight I will double check some routes and mileage for the next few days, and then I need to repack some of my boxes/suitcases. Don’t know when I’ll get online again. Maybe tomorrow. maybe not.