Last night’s stir-fry was a bit of a gourmet affair
, Goodie didn’t hold back after that Supermarket shopping-frenzy. Food in general is just that much cheaper than in Aus, it’s not funny.
Pay for your petrol and grab a 0.5liter can of Coke out of the servo’s fridge….99cents!!
This ain’t a special or something; it’s actually printed on the can. And that’s what you pay.
Munchies from the same counter between 80cents for a bag of chips to $2 for a muesli bar.
$5-10 for a bottle of local vino, red or white, bought at the servo/ supermarket/ bottle shop…all the same. Aussie Yellowtail is $7 a bottle…not that it’s much good, but it certainly only costs what its worth.
Most foods incl. basics, fruit and veg, whatever… are around 50-70% of their Aussie equivalent.
Same with most other items from toiletries to household items.
Makes you seriously wonder who’s scooping the cream off the top in Aussie-Land!!
Whatever…let’s ride. It’s a day without Jimbo and we’ve picked Klamath Falls in the East as our target.
Sounds like a decent-sized waterfall even though it’s the name of a decent-sized town….and instead of the Route66 East we’ll take the Dead Indian Memorial Rd…..sounds corny enough, aye?
First time on our own, navigation proves a bit tricky until we’re through Ashland.
Now, Ashland….only 20k’s north of the Californian border, it’s a cute, slightly yuppie “white” town….various open-air stages grace the town of
Shakespeare fame
There’s the
University of Southern Oregon which might be responsible for the street-cafés and Vespa culture of the place….or could it be the deer that munches away at the greenery of the town-center?
Those buggers are everywhere and aren’t fussed at all by a bunch of pushbikes going past at 5ft distance and at 30kmh….in the middle of the day, no less.
Deer seem to be around everywhere, anyway…schoolyards, industrial sites, domestic front and backyards, shopping center car parks, traffic islands, freeway center divide...you name it.
Back to the Dead Indian…the climb out of the Rogue Valley is a ripper…Twisties Supreme.
All too soon we’re on the High Plains…things straighten out.
Still in abundance around here…the good, old International Scout 4WD….nearly as old as the famous Willys.
Shedding some clobber in the pine-plantations
Well….we made it to Klamath Falls…made it through Klamath Falls….there are no falls in Klamath Falls…and the lava fields to the south proved to be quite a stretch.
So we turned around and took the 66 back towards Ashland.
Seen all too often…white males, 35-50y/o, roaming the countryside, sleeping in drains and under bridges, carrying their belongings, looking for work. Hand-drawn cardboard signs, standing at intersections or at the side of the road….and it’s obvious that they’re looking after themselves…still clean-shaven and clothed.
Not your wino or dropout…the GFC has a firm grip on the place and not all the victims are “poor blacks”.
Not really the picture one associates with the mighty Uncle Sam.
Another picture that doesn’t belong…a
snow and glacier-clad Mt. Shasta, a stand-alone 4000m+ giant….the presence, amongst the rolling hills in the foreground, is incongruous.
40k’s east of Ashland the dense forest starts…the moss-covered trunks look like they have green beards.
