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Orb, v. 2, issue 1, 1950
Page 15
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15 somewhat gruesome traveling togs, and proceeded to make a high old lunch. The food was good.... practically the only decent food served on this trip. The waitress, however, was positive that we were bums, or sump'n, and was so flustered that she took forever to serve us. Poor girl! I can see her point of view..... We also did a little shopping at a bookstore Henderson recommended, and most of us profited by it. The only things I got were an authographed (can't check on authenticity, unfortunately) edition of "The Lost Continent of Mu" and a fairly good copy of "Trilby." Also got a copy of a Doc Savage mag, but upon checking the publishers had made an error in binding, and up to page 54 was ALL STORY DETECTIVE and at that point commenced DOC SAVAGE. Oh, well, "Into Every Life...." etc. Went back to Henderson's where he finally decided not to go. —During our entire conversations with Henderson, not once were we invited into his house, or did he display the slightest joy at meeting other fans. Perhaps there were extenuating circumstances that caused this attitude, but the general consensus of our group was that his threshold would be uncluttered by our shadows forevermore. We left Salt Lake almost immediately, and spent the rest of the day, until slightly after dinner-time, on the road. Then we stopped at Twin Falls, Idaho, where ye edde was soon lost in the wonders of a super-market. And thence: dinner. The cabins we stayed in, had stoves fortunately. The next morning, we hit the road again, and kept at it most of the day. In the middle of the afternoon, Harry was entranced by the aspects of the Snake River, which we had been following for several miles, and suggested a swim. All agreed, and a hasty 15 minutes was spent in and out of the water, The mud was pretty thick, however, and it took 5 minutes to get out of the water, and get your legs clean before you could get back into your clothes... That night was spent in Pendleton, Oregon....and nicer accommodation couldn't have been had. Inexpensive, they were the most com- and modern we enjoyed on the trip. If I could remember the name, I would recommend them, but at the moment, only striking features were that it was slightly off the main drag, and was vaugely California-modern in architecture. Anybody recognize the description? The next day, we hit the Columbia River, and followed it more or less for the rest of the way. A few miles from Portland, we encountered some lovely falls, and at one, entitled the Multnomah, ye edde and Charly Heisner went on an excursion down one side of the hill to the base of the falls, under the falls (which were rather high ones) and back up the hill on the other side. We got down the hill beautifully, under the falls without becoming more than slightly damp, and up part of the hill.... and then, DISASTER STRUCK! Ye edde, concentrating upon the intracacies of climbing a steep hill, which he was unfortunately not built for, stepped upon a loose stone, and slid ungracefully almost all the way down the hill again. Needless to say, there wasn't much of my pants left! —and I'm still not quite sure why my glasses, which were in a trouser pocket, weren't shattered utterly. Mortified, and bruised, I told the hill to go to Gehenna, and climbed up the other, more sloping one. Nevertheless, perhaps I have the distinction of being the only fan who practically took a bath
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15 somewhat gruesome traveling togs, and proceeded to make a high old lunch. The food was good.... practically the only decent food served on this trip. The waitress, however, was positive that we were bums, or sump'n, and was so flustered that she took forever to serve us. Poor girl! I can see her point of view..... We also did a little shopping at a bookstore Henderson recommended, and most of us profited by it. The only things I got were an authographed (can't check on authenticity, unfortunately) edition of "The Lost Continent of Mu" and a fairly good copy of "Trilby." Also got a copy of a Doc Savage mag, but upon checking the publishers had made an error in binding, and up to page 54 was ALL STORY DETECTIVE and at that point commenced DOC SAVAGE. Oh, well, "Into Every Life...." etc. Went back to Henderson's where he finally decided not to go. —During our entire conversations with Henderson, not once were we invited into his house, or did he display the slightest joy at meeting other fans. Perhaps there were extenuating circumstances that caused this attitude, but the general consensus of our group was that his threshold would be uncluttered by our shadows forevermore. We left Salt Lake almost immediately, and spent the rest of the day, until slightly after dinner-time, on the road. Then we stopped at Twin Falls, Idaho, where ye edde was soon lost in the wonders of a super-market. And thence: dinner. The cabins we stayed in, had stoves fortunately. The next morning, we hit the road again, and kept at it most of the day. In the middle of the afternoon, Harry was entranced by the aspects of the Snake River, which we had been following for several miles, and suggested a swim. All agreed, and a hasty 15 minutes was spent in and out of the water, The mud was pretty thick, however, and it took 5 minutes to get out of the water, and get your legs clean before you could get back into your clothes... That night was spent in Pendleton, Oregon....and nicer accommodation couldn't have been had. Inexpensive, they were the most com- and modern we enjoyed on the trip. If I could remember the name, I would recommend them, but at the moment, only striking features were that it was slightly off the main drag, and was vaugely California-modern in architecture. Anybody recognize the description? The next day, we hit the Columbia River, and followed it more or less for the rest of the way. A few miles from Portland, we encountered some lovely falls, and at one, entitled the Multnomah, ye edde and Charly Heisner went on an excursion down one side of the hill to the base of the falls, under the falls (which were rather high ones) and back up the hill on the other side. We got down the hill beautifully, under the falls without becoming more than slightly damp, and up part of the hill.... and then, DISASTER STRUCK! Ye edde, concentrating upon the intracacies of climbing a steep hill, which he was unfortunately not built for, stepped upon a loose stone, and slid ungracefully almost all the way down the hill again. Needless to say, there wasn't much of my pants left! —and I'm still not quite sure why my glasses, which were in a trouser pocket, weren't shattered utterly. Mortified, and bruised, I told the hill to go to Gehenna, and climbed up the other, more sloping one. Nevertheless, perhaps I have the distinction of being the only fan who practically took a bath
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