Photo-op sign on Flamenco Island off the Pacific entry for the Panama Canal. First Lions stop in Panama.
Lions in Sight is a subgroup formed by Lions and optometrists in the late 1990’s. Originally (and still well represented), most of the volunteers and doctors for the group came from the San Francisco area. The group expanded activities in the 21st century with a vision clinic a year to Mexico’s 8 Lion regions. One to two other trips went afield to more distant clinics – Palestine, Nepal, Sri Lanka, Lithuania, Armenia, Albania, etc. Lion volunteers and doctors soon came from all over the US helping spread the motto of Lionism “We Serve”.
The Italian Alpini monument high on Čukla, a long way up from the valley floor below.
Rombon sits at the eastern end of the dolomitic Kanin massif. It is a serious mountain. The climb is relatively straightforward, but it entails 1,750 meters of elevation gain over 5 ½ to 7 hours of climbing. Once you are up there, you have all of that elevation to lose. There is no water nor alpine huts up here. The mountain rises to 2298 meters while Bovec, the normal starting point, sits at a mere 460 meters. For over two years, Italians and soldiers from the Austro-Hungarian Empire grappled with each other amidst the alpine splendor. The fighting conducted sporadically, but when fought, bitterly.
The Goal – a fast connection to the Oregon Coast from Portland. Enter the Sunset Highway.
Until 1940, there really was no fast and easy way to reach the Pacific Coast from the main population center of Oregon – Portland. At first, there were river steamers coming downstream from Portland to Astoria. Then, the train to Astoria with a branch line going further south to Gearhart and Seaside. The first road connection finally came in 1915 with the building of the Lower Columbia Highway, today’s US Highway 30.
Cuillin smiling atop Saddle Mountain. The Astoria to Salem Road ventured around the peak – Green Mountain – in the center – Mouth of the Columbia River and Astoria lie above.
The 1840’s saw emigrants begin to make Oregon – especially the Willamette Valley – a destination of choice. After a brief struggle, newcomers chose to make Salem the capital of the new Territory instead of Oregon City. But Salem was definitely an inland choice. Transportation to the sea was needed to enable easier communication with the rest of the World as opposed to a six-month jaunt across the Rockies. As the 1850’s rolled on, the best choice of a seaport lay at the mouth of the Columbia River – enter the Astoria to Salem Road, military in purported purpose, but strategic thinking lay at the heart.
Gabriele D’Annunzio giving the funeral oration for his friend Giovanni Randaccio.
Along the old highway leading south into Trieste – State Highway 14 – just past where the ancient river of mystery, the Timavo, emerges to run its short course to the sea, stands a stone monument in memory to Maggiore Giovanni Randaccio who lost his life near here 28 May 1917. A short burst of machine-gun fire mortally wounded the young 32-year-old Italian. His death due to Austrian gunfire. Alas, a death also a result of his friendship with the self-proclaimed Vate of Italy, Gabriele D’Annunzio.
Rotating Gruson turret formerly holding 120 mm mortars at Goražda fort one of the Kotor forts – Kotor seen beyond to the right.
One of the true gems of the Mediterranean world is the little town of Kotor lying at the head of a ten-mile-long fjord system flanked by huge peaks rising over 4,000 feet above the waters. Lying deep in its mountain fastness, Kotor positively exudes magic, even in the wake of ever-increasing numbers of tourists and development threatening to divest the enchantment. Hidden amongst the cliffs and peaks the bays and fjords lie 83 forts around Cattaro erected during the 19th century by the military of the Austrian empire. Their role, to both defend the Bocce di Cattaro – Bay of Kotor – from sea and land attack.
Sunset over the Bays of Kotor – the mountain of Vrmac looms darkly in the middle.
In the past, I have not been a big fan of vacationing on huge cruise ships. A few friends and I watched from the shore of Glacier Bay as cruise ship after cruise ship made their way up the large fjord. We were happy experiencing the wilderness of one of the America’s most magnificent national parks on a more personal scale. Just us and the grizzly bears. Could the Bays of Kotor change that feeling?
Another time, I stayed at a hotel in Kusadsi for almost a week a few years ago. Every day brought several behemoths to dock at the waterfront. Buses lined up for the inevitable bus pilgrimage to nearby Ephesus. And then, at sunset, the giant ships would set sail into the sunset for their next day’s destination – Bodrum, Mykonos, Santorini, Istanbul. Again, I was happy to be staying behind. This year, I bit the bullet joining a cruise taking in the Adriatic and western Mediterranean. The cruise turned out very enjoyable. The highlight, the slow entry into the wondrous fjord system making up the Bocche di Cattaro, known locally as the Boka Kotorska or simply, the Magic of Kotor.
Postcard showing SMS U6 commanded by Georg von Trapp from 1910 until 1913.
A recent trip took me to Kotor, Montenegro. The city sits spectacularly ensconced amidst mountains and fjords, probably the most scenic port in the Mediterranean. Kotor has seen its share of history over the centuries, but one relatively recent story gets overlooked by even more recent events leading to one of the most famous movies of all time, The Sound of Music. Understated and often forgotten, here, the story of Georg Luther von Trapp, ace of Austro-Hungarian submariners from World War 1. His career before falling back on family and music concerned the sea and the Bays of Kotor.
Emigrant Lane heading west with the Bombing Range on the right and Well Springs just ahead.
Travelling along at 70 mph along Interstate 84 along the Columbia River, it is easy to think Oregon’s mid-19th century pioneers just shuttled along rambling into Portland on Sandy Boulevard in no time at all. Drive out to Well Springs and that idea disappears very quickly. The long drive out here on the south side of the US Navy’s Boardman Bombing Range gives one the best example of what it must have been like to drive a wagon along the Oregon Trail with the end coming finally into view.
Wagon ruts across the sands and sage of the Columbia Plateau at Echo Meadows.
Following the deaths at the Whitman Mission in December 1847, emigrants travelling the Oregon Trail elected to bypass the jaunt of the trail to the north following the descent out of the Blue Mountains. Instead, the new path led down the Umatilla River before heading out across the dry Columbia Plateau roughly parallel to the river about 6-8 miles to the south.
