Time to zoom in on our map a bit for the last half of the month of driving:
April 16
We should not have left Wetmore (starting dot on the map) so soon! Looking back, we both wish we had spent more like a week there. But, at the time, we were in go-go-go mode, so we picked out another NF campground a couple hundred miles west, packed up, and hit the road. We stopped to take pictures at a gigantic covered wagon. I mean, who could resist this ridiculous piece of Americana?
We thought Baba G was big, but not next to this thing!
Unfortunately, shortly after the covered wagon stop, the road started to roll once more, and mostly uphill. Just ten miles or so from our stopping point for the day's drive, Baba G's temperature gauge started climbing a little too fast, so Nate pulled over and I went ahead in the car to suss out the campsite. But, when I got there, I found the gate locked and a sign saying the forest was closed for logging activity. Apparently Oregon will just up and close a forest on you.
On my way back to the RV, I pulled into every little dirt road I could find: even though there were a couple of primitive campsites, there was nothing Baba G could safely do. I drove back to tell Nate the bad news. We had no choice but to keep driving, so he took the lead and-- hazards on-- we climbed slowly up the pass. Nate pulled over to give the old girl another rest… right in front of a sign for East Cougar Trailhead: the only spot I had not checked out earlier. It was supposed to be a trailhead, right?
Wrong. It was a gigantic open field, tucked off the main highway between a big hill and a big valley, and there was no one else there. Nate had found us a great little campsite:
The cats climbed the hill, rolled around on the dirt road, and happily roamed around.
The one downside to the spot (admittedly, a biggie) was the creepy guy in camo who parked past us at the actual trailhead just before sunset and disappeared into the woods. For at least an hour. We were more than a little relieved and happy to hear him drive back out again.
That night, I awoke around 3am, certain I smelled cologne. Yes, people, cologne! I was too chicken to even peek out the window, so I lay in bed, listening to my heart thumping and trying to hear past that to detect any outdoor noises.
Nothing. I went back to sleep and had a nightmare that would make a fabulous RV horror screenplay. I told Nate the whole thing in the morning (even though he is not a fan of my "listen to the cool dream I had last night" breakfast entertainment), and he even thought it was scary and good! Now I just have to write it...
(Thursday) April 17
Woke up (alive) and decided to hit the road again.
We weren't really planning to make it all the way to Bend, but it just sort of happened. We had been out in the sticks since Fort Collins and felt like it was time for some city action. Plus, it was raining and grey and dreary all day: we felt a brewpub would be the perfect place to fit the mood.
We camped just northwest of Bend, at Tumalo State Park. $27-- ouch! Apparently, the whole state park system was not on the same pay rate. All in all, the campground was the antithesis of what we wanted: the spots were tiny, expensive, packed in like sardines, no free firewood, and the kitties had to stay on leashes. Fortunately, they were not so interested in roaming in the rain, with a dog barking nearby. We parked, leveled, hooked up, left the kitties, and headed into Bend for a beer and some food.
This was not what we were expecting from this town. We had both heard such good things about it, and now found ourselves just sort of moping our way around the downtown, not really impressed at all.
We took no pics at all. Too dreary.
April 18
Woke up and immediately started figuring out where we could move, so we weren't breaking the bank in Bend. (Nice alliteration, no?) Fortunately, Deschutes National Forest was just south of Bend, so the drive was quick and painless. Leaving behind the sardines at Tumalo, we once again found a campground (Fall River) that we had all to ourselves, and where firewood was plentiful! And, as you might have surmised, gentle reader, we were also right on the Fall River, which was just swimming with mallard ducks and Canadian geese.
Interestingly, the river was pretty muddy here…
compare this to the pics from the next campsite (which was upstream).
In the late afternoon, as we were thinking about heading north into Bend, a strange couple (or, rather, a couple with strange social skills) walked around the campground loop (there was a boat launch and trail just across the road). And then a car drove through: someone used the bathroom. We started feeling a little uneasy about leaving Baba G and the kitties. So, Nate pulled out a map to look for another nearby campsite that might be a safer, more private option. We took a quick drive in the Civic and found a lovely, empty campground within ten minutes. We went back, got our kitties and packed up Baba G and moved camp.
Strangely enough, by the time we returned to the new campground (Big River Falls), some guy was there, chainsawing down dead trees in the spot next to the one we wanted. We convinced ourselves that he was a National Forest employee, picked a different spot a bit farther from the action, and got set up for camp once more. But, we felt just as unsettled about leaving the cats and Baba G here as we had at the last spot. :-{ So, we waited. And more people showed up to hang out with chainsaw guy. And then we decided not to go to Bend.
While Nate was out staring at the "iron ranger" (the box you pay when there is no in-the-flesh ranger), the guy drove up and told Nate he and his friends were leaving and if we wanted, we could enjoy the campfire… that he had left burning. Irresponsible, to say the least. We did go and enjoy the fire, and then soaked it to make sure it was out cold.
April 19 (Earth Day)
The next morning, we were very happy to wake up in our lovely campsite on the river, that we hadn't really had time to appreciate the previous night. We took a walk along the river, loosely followed by all three cats.
This is definitely my "AM face"-- I barely look conscious, and this is after 9am.
The incredibly shallow, but beautiful Fall River. Look how clear this is!
This is what a healthy river with true riparian habitat around it looks like.
This is what a healthy river with true riparian habitat around it looks like.
Tigger explores every perch during our hike, and only disappears twice!
After the kitties got some outdoor exploration time, Nate and I locked them up again and were preparing to head into Bend, for its annual Earth Day parade and fair, when an actual human park ranger (well, an employee of the Hoodoo company that manages all the NF campgrounds) came up to ask if we had paid. We explained that we had not, because we had read on the NF website that there was no charge to camp before the official season opening (which was four days hence). He said that info was incorrect and insisted that we needed to pay anyway, which we agreed to do once we got cash in Bend.
Then, off to the parade we went. The Earth Day parade has no floats, but instead, the whole town is invited to dress up as their favorite animal and stroll through town as part of a walking parade. There were some really great costumes:
Then, off to the parade we went. The Earth Day parade has no floats, but instead, the whole town is invited to dress up as their favorite animal and stroll through town as part of a walking parade. There were some really great costumes:
And several pedal-powered vehicles:
After the parade ended, we went to the eco-fair, where Nate found the vehicle of his dreams, which runs on bio-diesel no less. I think he got a bit of drool on the front bumper:
Time to move along. We (ok, I) decided Mr. Hoodoo Ranger was not getting any cash, after all, since I looked at the Hoodoo website, which also said the season did not open until Wednesday. I was pretty convinced he was just going to pocket the cash. Maybe not, but that was definitely the vibe I got. [Nate admits to no involvement in this sordid affair.]
We hit the road once again, paranoid the Hoodoo henchmen would be after us, and started casting about for a spot to pull off the road and camp after a few hours. I was in the lead, so I'd have time to tell Nate to slow down if I saw something with potential. I spotted a paved (!) road, off to our right, that led down a hill and into the woods, along the shore of Davis Lake. In keeping with the human weirdness we just kept encountering, I pulled down a long road and came to a great wild campsite, where a campfire was burning in the middle of a bunch of boulders. I looked around for the owners of the fire, but there were no cars, no tents, no one fishing… no signs of life at all.
I was too far from Nate to use the walkie-talkie, so I had to drive back into range. I told him what I'd found and we decided to take the spot. By the time we got back to the fire, the wind had blown it outside the boulders and caught the pine needles and cones on fire!
You can see the ring of boulders on the right where the fire was started.
In I go... the danger just from the smoke is no joke.
The smoke is a bit thinner here, as we started to gain on the fire. It was incredibly tenacious, though, as the pine cones kept bursting back into flame!
Even Baba G helped… and got a pump out to boot!
Thank goodness we had dry camped for a couple of days… and it was only greywater.
Nate demonstrates the tools of the trade for hackneyed firefighters (I am sure Mike will have some comments for us…): rake, bucket, cardboard, pump out tubing to get water. It's pretty crazy that we put out a fire with this crap! =:-O
Once the fire was back inside its ring, we enjoyed it for a bit (or, rather, until the mosquitoes bit) before drowning it. We're pretty sure this frog chorus was the nicest thank-you ever:
April 21
The next morning, we got to survey the fire scene and really appreciate the beauty of our campsite. We felt pretty good about saving this beautiful piece of forest! We wanted to stay and enjoy another frog serenade, but Mother Nature had other plans for us, of the dreaded white and cold variety.
Our gorgeous, almost-a-forest-fire spot, the next morning.
The burn scar: you can see the prevailing wind was coming in off the lake.
The very dicey access to our camping spot: Nate didn't even notice how tight and steep this was on the way in… what with all the smoke… and me yelling at him to get in there and help me fight the fire! Nate was pretty sure snow would have turned this into an impassable, mushy mess, so we had to go before the snow.
Here is the terrible context we got for the fire incident, as we drove away from Davis Lake: how can anyone leave a roaring fire and just drive away, when charred, dead forest from the last out-of-control fire surrounds you?
As there were no national forest campsites listed on our map for the next jaunt, we opted for another paid site at Crescent Junction, OR. Good thing, since we were headed up into the Cascade Mountain Range, where temperatures dropped enough for us to get snowed on! We were a bit nervous to camp there, though, since it is also managed by Hoodoo and we figured Baba G would be pretty easy to describe and nab. But, no henchmen showed up in the middle of the night to break our knees or anything, so we've long since stopped worrying about them. Here is our Crescent Junction campsite:
At least we got parked and leveled and plugged in before the snow hit!
Sad kitties: they just couldn't believe that awful white stuff was back!
April 22
More driving through the Cascades, with blowing snow but pretty dry roads. It was quite beautiful, so we stopped a couple of times to take pics of the winter wonderland we had driven back into:
Tigger checks out Diamond Lake from the Scenic Viewpoint...
as does Nate.
And then something crazy happened: we drove through a spot where it was winter on one side of the road and spring on the other! Check it out:
As we kept driving, we drove right out of winter and into spring, as we descended the western slope of the Cascades. We suddenly found ourselves immersed in green, so lush and deep, it was almost like we were swimming in it.
Nate eats snow (man, this guy is sooooo weird) at an incredibly beautiful waterfall.
We camped at one of the most beautiful, lush, rainforest campgrounds you can imagine, called Boulder Flat in the Umpqua National Forest; fortunately, you don't have to, since we took lots of pictures:
Can you see Baba G?
We were right on the river… and all alone in the campground, once more.
Nate loves noisy water!
Strangely, so does Fink.
Even Pete is convinced to take a look.
Fabulous lichens that are bright green on one side and mushroomy looking on the other!
(I am still trying to find out what the species name is…)
April 23
Had to leave our lovely campsite super early (for me, this means before 8am) because it was closed for the day for tree trimming/maintenance activities. So, we headed farther down the western slope of the mountain, knowing there were not going to be any other campgrounds open (because we'd also taken a little suss-it-out road trip the day before to the ranger station) east of Glide. Can I say we decided to glide right on through? Hehe.
Anyway, we ended up driving all the way to Roseburg, which is smack-dab in the middle of the Willamette Valley! While we didn't see much of Roseburg, we felt there wasn't much special about it… until we found the Fish Ladder:
Yes, I said FISH ladder! It is a series of small pools that migratory fish can use to bypass manmade waterfalls: otherwise, few of them would make it back to their upstream spawning grounds (for anadromous fishes who live in the sea and spawn in freshwater) or primary habitat (for catadromous fishes-- mostly eels-- who live in the streams and spawn in the sea).
The fish apparently find the ladder by seeking out slower currents, and then..
… they have to jump through each central opening from one pool to the next.
Pretty fabulous device, eh?
Waiting for fishes. Does anybody use this ladder, or what?
The ladder also provides an easy way to do migratory fish counts.
Hmm… are those numbers real?
We returned again later in the day, and finally saw some fish!
I think they are as fascinated with us and we are with them.
Our county park campground was pretty nice, though more wide-open than we like and, to get to it, we had to drive under a railroad underpass that seemed like it should have been occupied by trolls. There was a nice hiking trail through the woods, and we took advantage of the big grassy lawn to play some frisbee-- admittedly, much harder to do in the woods.
April 25
Woke up and decided to blow out of Roseburg: paying to camp in a city just pales in comparison to camping out in the forest somewhere for free. We had to decide, once again: northern or southern route across to the coast? We opted for the northern route (Hwy 138), as it would position us to stop and camp in Charleston (which was our absolute favorite camping during our trip out here two years ago) before we got to Bandon.
Let's just say 138 is a bit of a roller coaster ride-- with heavy traffic headed to the coast, since it was Friday-- but so beautiful, it was worth it to have to pull over again and again… and again to let people pass us. The funny thing is I can't find any pics (yet), except of these elk we stopped to check out:
We finally hit the coast at Reedsport and took a moment to appreciate that we had driven all the way from the Atlantic to the Pacific (on the diagonal, no less)… in our big, old beast of an RV! There were seagulls swooping down around us, and we felt more at home than we had in a long time. If this journey has taught us one key thing, it is this: we are ocean people. We love the mountains, and think the desert is beautiful, but we will content ourselves to visit them. We need to live where there is ocean!
We hit 101-- the coastal highway--, and drove south, until we found a beautiful wooded (though somewhat pricey) National Forest campground (Eel Creek) sandwiched in the thin strip of land between the highway and the Pacific Ocean. Again, we had the place almost entirely to ourselves:
The coolest thing about this place was the transition from coastal forest to gigantic sand dunes that happened as you followed the hiking trail from the campground toward the coast. We hiked it right at sunset, donated some too-wizened pears to the forest creatures, and ended up playing on the dunes.
Our patented Pears-to-Forest program.
Check out the transition from forest to sand dunes!
Me in tree pose. Yay, I can see the ocean...
… if I squint. No way were we going to make it there by sunset.
So, instead, we played on the dunes. Nate relives our skiing adventure at Wolf Creek.
And then it got cold. Blustery, damp, bone-chilling cold. Time to head back to camp!
April 26-27
A hop, skip, and a jump south, and we found ourselves camped at Bastendorff County Park. We decided not to go back to the state park where we had camped two years ago, after driving through and realizing how tightly packed the spots are and how unhappy the kitties would be on leashes the whole time. Bastendorff was very nearby, with slightly bigger spaces and way more trees for privacy… and potentially, some illegal off-leash kitty time.
What did I do to deserve this?
We didn't take a single pic of our campsite, probably because we were not there very much. Bastendorff Beach finally let us get our toes wet, but wow, was it COLD!
Yes, Nate wants a skim board. And an 8mm wetsuit, in case he falls over.
Interestingly, there was a Baba G doppelgänger (though in blue) parked in the most private spot in the whole park-- and the one we had wanted! Sadly, we never got to meet the people before they disappeared.
We spent two days here, and revisited the places we had loved so much two years ago. First, Sunset Cove Beach for tide pooling:
Then, Shore Acres Botanical Garden for some colorful beauty on a drizzly day (Art, you would LOVE this place!):
And, of course we fit in a trip to the new local brewery (7 Devils Brewing Co.) in the nearby town of Coos Bay for dinner and drinks. Strangely, they even had Quebec's (huh?) famous heart-clogging dish, poutine:
French fries, gravy, and cheese curds. You can already see Nate becoming lethargic…
April 28
Arrival in Bandon! After 26 days straight on the road (and the expenditures to match), we were ready to get to our destination, and Tammy had said we could arrive a bit early. Just 45 minutes later, we were pulling in to our new home, just about two miles inland from the coast.
Once we got parked, the kitties got a low-tech cat door. They are thrilled!
Up Next: Bandon Hope?
