Once again I will try to fill in for Dad.

I am not trying to stick my nose in here. But I am aware that without Dad’s efforts on the FollowToto Internet thing, there will be no accounts of my antics, and also of Wally’s annoying (but, apparently, endearing) exploits.

So here is the rest of the story about Maryhill State Park on the very big river in Washington, the state where we live.

I have to be careful here. If I get too good at this Dad is just going to think I’ll do it, and then he will spend all day doing Solitaire.

Okay. Here is a picture where I am the main subject. There are some other things in the picture, but I am the one sitting up, like a Good Boy, on the green camping cot. I believe I am sitting up here because I have a special Dog sense that, on the next camping trip, Wally is going to cause beverages to be spilled on the cot, and it will likely never be the same. So I am sitting up.

Remember the awning that Dad knows how to put? He does know. But also remember Dad said there is wind? There is, or rather was. So the awning is not put. I don’t care. Do you? Sometimes Mom cares.

Do I have a carefree, windblown look? I think not. I think I look concerned. But I don’t remember what it was about, because, as I mentioned, Dad should have made this blog post days ago. I’m really more of an in-the-moment type. But I will try. Oh. Why did I include this picture? It was in case you forgot what I look like. Just so we can really connect. You know.

Many times during our stay at Maryhill, it began snowing, at least I thought it was at first. The white stuff was everywhere in the wind, but it did not make my paw pads hurt like the other white stuff, so I guess this is not snow. Mom and Dad said Cottonwood after consulting the internet thing on their phones.

These things plump up and white stuff comes out. Mom and Dad called it Cotton Stuff. Can you tell Dad got a new camera? Bizarre.

One day while at Maryhill Dad took us to see a stone hinge.

This is a Stonehenge replica created by someone many decades ago. It is a salute to the memory of people who died in a war called the Great War. Wars are kind of stupid, I guess, unless they’re fought over food — that I could see. Especially hot dogs. Still, pretty stupid. Humanoids should figure out a better way to disagree.

If you look really close, in the middle, you can see me, on a leash. Oh and you can probably see Mom and Wally too. But wait till you see what it looked like when we arrived.

That’s right — the stone hinge memorial was surrounded by a motorcycle club. They were having an Outing. They seemed to be having a good time. Dad said that maybe the builders of the original stone hinge wished they had big bikes like these people had. That made no sense to me.

The view from the memorial attracted Dad and his new camera the way hot dogs attract me. For all the work he put in, he said the pictures were Unimpressive. Too bad. Maybe it was all that howling wind. Do you like how I bring Dog words into my work? I do.

Well so finally Dad observed that we were camped in some sort of Transit Hub. Trains, cars, barges and tugs. Here, then, is a Barge Picture I chose from his campsite photos.

Remember I said about the Trains? Or maybe that was Dad. Anywhere there were also Barges and Tugs.

Dad drove us home after this picture. It was a good drive through the Columbia River Gorge, which frankly was prettier than where we camped. But everything is beautiful, everywhere, really. Except maybe Wally.