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Sheila leaves for work and I set aim for southern Oregon hoping to stay
once again with Patti Halprin and her family. However, when I call that
afternoon, no one is home. I find out from someone at work that she is coming
in the next day to Fremont, and deduce that she may have already left, so
I'll just try to make it as far as possible and then find a motel.
The terrain is finally starting to smooth out a little, so it is easier
to use my cruise control stick.
Lunch is a ham sandwich and two pieces of cold pizza.
It is my sister's birthday, and I stop in a small town to call her and have
dinner. I don't have her number, and my parents aren't home, so I am unable
to call, and I look for a place to eat.
The cold pizza from lunch is giving me some heartburn, and I search for
something less greasy for dinner. Across the street is a natural food restaurant,
and I step up to the window to check out the menu. The herb linguini looks
OK, so I push open the door, but it scrapes to a stop halfway-open and I
have to step sideways to get through. There is only one table in this restaurant,
and one fairly bearded man leans on a counter at the far end of the room.
I ask for the linguini, and he tells me they don't have it. I ask for something
else and they don't have that either. In fact, they don't have much of anything,
but he could fix up some fettucine alfredo. Well, I don't want fettucine
alfredo. Just as I'm leaving, a couple more travelers sidestep through the
door, with the same "am I in the right place" look on their faces
as I probably had.
Around the corner I find the Medford Cafe. Inside are lots of pictures and
posters of old cars, so I feel right at home. I order the turkey sandwich
dinner, with masked potatoes, vegetables, rice & black bean soup, and
apple juice. There are three little toy cars on the ledge above my table,
so I reach up to get an old Thunderbird to play with. The food arrives and
I eat. The only other thing to note about the Medford Cafe is that the bathroom
is spotless. The walls are decorated with wallpaper, several framed pictures,
little wicker things, and a decorative plastic apple soap dispenser. The
nicest bathroom I've ever seen in a commercial place.
My stomach still burns, so I stop down the road at Wolf Creek for some antacid.
There is a phone booth outside the little general store, and I think of
trying to call my parents for my sister's number again, but a teenage boy
is having some sort of argument on the phone. I take 7 TUMs and hit the
road again.
I make it as far as Yreka, CA, and stop at a motel. The man at the desk
answers my questions about the room and makes some small talk about the
upcoming fight between Tyson and some other guy that is on the TV nearby.
Tyson is a boxer that went to jail for rape, and this will be his first
fight since he has been released. "They are going to have to pull Tyson
off of him", the desk clerk says. It is probably true. According to
the news, the bookies are giving 17 to 1 odds for Tyson.
I go to my room, plug up the battery charger for radio batteries, and fall
asleep.
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Copyright © 1995 by Patrick
Malone