Chromosome Change One Man s Story
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Some Kind Of HeroChapter 73 free porn video
Brookings to Gold Beach is just under 30 miles, as the GPS drives it. With stops at the Whalehead Beach Resort and a few other scenic places on the way there and the way back, it took us almost two hours to make the trip. Gold Beach isn't any bigger than Brookings-Harbor, but what it has to distinguish itself from other places was the Rogue River. We crossed the Rogue River, just so we could say we had, and spotted another interesting looking resort on its shores that we filed away for future reference. Unlike Whalehead Beach, this one was a series of long buildings.
"You can look it up when we get back," I told Kelli as she craned her head. I used their parking lot to turn around and head back south. We stopped on the way back through gold Beach just long enough to get ice cream cones at a Dairy Queen.
We laughed and talked and ate ice cream as we sped back towards Brookings and our dinner date with the Jenkins.
There were new people at the B&B when we got there. Viola and Louie Botchke, an older couple, in their late sixties. We had time to sit and visit with them for a little while before we had to go get ready for dinner. They were from Biglerville, Pennsylvania. Mr. Botchke was a retired electrician and his wife a retired teacher. They had a big ¾ ton pickup truck with a camper on the back, which they said was taking them up the west coast to Seattle, and then maybe back East along the northern route across the country.
We wished them luck on their travels and went to get ready. There was a certain amount of playful grab-ass attempted, in both directions, but not too much. Kelli wore one of her 'nice' outfits and I put on one of my new shirts and slacks, but didn't bother with a tie, and wore my one now officially casual sports jacket rather than the new dressy ones.
We walked in the doors of Oholleran's a few minutes before seven. We didn't have to bother asking about the reservations because we spotted Cody and Clarissa across the room at a table immediately. We waved and headed that way.
The couple had found a very nice table in a corner by a window. They were sitting at one side, with Clarissa getting the window seat. I let Kelli take the window and sat down across from Cody.
"Did you guys have a fun afternoon?" Clarissa asked.
"We drove up the coast to Gold Beach and back," Kelli answered. "We stopped a few places, but mostly just soaked in the sights from the road."
"We did find one place that looked interesting," I added. "Called the Whalehead Beach Resort. There are a bunch of cabins there for rent and nice restaurant. It would make a nice place to bring a large group of people for some kind of group getaway."
A waitress came by and we ordered drinks right away. I stuck with beer, ordering an Inversion IPA, something they had on tap from the Deschutes Brewery, an Oregon brewer. Kelli ordered wine as did Clarissa. Cody ordered whiskey.
When the drinks came we were ready to order our food. All four of us wanted the scallops, though the ladies ordered theirs with salads. I had mine with sweet potato fries and Cody had his with basil fettuccine as a side dish.
While we waited for the food we continued our conversation. Our new friends had spent their afternoon fishing on a charter boat, and had a blast. It was during this conversation that something that had been in the background several places we'd been got brought up. Back in may, the big Tsunami that had devastated Japan had also hit the coast of Oregon, causing considerable damage to the local harbor here. Efforts to rebuild it were still ongoing.
"Our charter operator was quite emotional about it," Clarissa told us. "He told us some of the local boats got demolished, and the boat basin was almost completely destroyed."
"I guess in all the news coming out of Japan about the problems there I missed hearing about this," Kelli said.
"I was still in Okinawa, " I said, remembering. "We did a little scrambling of our own then. For a while it looked like our offer to render assistance was going to be accepted, but the Japanese can be very funny about accepting help from outsiders, and especially the when it's the US military."
That conversation lasted most of the way through dinner. I decided silently that I was going to do something to help with the rebuilding efforts.
Cody and Clarissa were leaving in the morning for Crescent City and the Del Norte golf course.
We lingered a little over dessert, but said our good nights and goodbyes afterward. On the way out I spotted fliers for the tsunami relief efforts and grabbed one.
"You're going to make a donation, aren't you?" Kelli asked when we were alone in the car.
"Of course, but I'll do it through the bank back home, and hopefully, anonymously."
"Of course," she laughed. That low laugh I was getting used to hearing that said she was happy with me. "So, what now? The night is young."
"Well, let's head towards the river and see if something looks interesting," I grinned.
"This time of night? I bet you won't see anything interesting until you get me into bed."
"Maybe so, pretty lady," I said, laughing. "But we won't know until we get there."
There was no plan, but sure enough Kelli spotted something almost immediately.
"Oh look!" she pointed. "A tavern. Lets go get a beer and see if they have a pool table."
"What, another game you're going to kick my ass at?" I laughed.
"Maybe so," she echoed my earlier comment. "But hey, at least you'll get a beer out of it."
"Somebody's getting something all right," I leered, drawing more laughter from Kelli, this her more normal, lighthearted version.
It was a tavern, and it was Friday night. Since we'd lingered over our desserts and conversation, it was almost nine o'clock. The place was bustling.
And we were perhaps a bit overdressed.
We had a mostly blue jeans and flannel shirt crowd in the Pine Cone Tavern, and Kelli and I came in looking mostly silk and linen.
The pool table was in use, but there was room at the bar. We both ordered more Deschutes, which was on tap here as well, though this time it was Mirror Pond pale ale. I asked for change for the pool table and added a quarter for me and one for Kelli. There were three ahead of ours, so I expected we'd be at least into our second beer before we got to play.
There were live musicians in one corner, who began playing a blues beat shortly after we'd gotten our beers. A few minutes of that as a warm up and they slipped into something I recognized – 'Rock Me Baby', by B.B. King and a zillion other musicians.
This was not a dive, like that place I'd stopped at on my ride out to Healdsburg. There were two bartenders, smartly dressed and waitresses zipping here and there similarly dressed as well. Most of the people here were our age or older.
The music was loud enough that it made talking a little difficult, but not impossible. We probably didn't have to sit with our heads together as much as we did, but we were enjoying the excuse to be close. It was very intimate, but I managed to keep one eye on the pool table, so saw when my game came up.
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