Wild West day 20

Leaving Fort Stevens, we continued on up Hwy 101, crossing the bridge at Astoria. As we approached, we could see work being done on the bridge. It was a bit disconcerting because it looked like a big Band-aid wrapped around it just to the right of the big span support. It was a pretty long bridge. In a distance we could see Mt. St. Helens or, at least, what's left of it.  We both wished we could get closer, but we were beginning to run behind schedule and needed to move on.  Rosie was waiting for us in Idaho. We traveled most of the day through the spruce and fir forests, still on Hwy 101. Our goal was the Makah Indian Reservation at the extreme NW of the Olympic Peninsula. But, as the day wore on, it became obvious that was a bigger bite than we'd like. Just too far for the old folks. So, we began looking for a suitable substitute campground. We found one in the Hoh Rain Forest in the middle of the Olympic National Forest. The sign said 12.5 miles. A bit far off the road, but what the heck. We were on an adventure. The road was narrow with huge trees closing in on both sides all covered with heavy moss. We finally came to the ranger gatehouse, waved our "old farts" card at him and proceeded on. The next sign read "campground 6.5 mi." Huh! That makes it 18 miles back here. It better be worth it. It was. Then I noticed the blond and brunette camped right across from us in a tent.

Wild West day 19

We left Oregon Coast RV Resort and headed up the coast of Oregon on Hwy 101. It's a nice scenic drive like Ca. Hwy 1, but not quite as kinky. And it was a fairly clear day so the coast was clear...so to speak, not like the California coast we couldn't see a couple of days ago.

We stopped at a "Sea Lion Cave" tourist trap, but didn't get trapped. I got this photo of the walk down to the cave. While standing there, some old guy asked if I had gone down there. When I told him I had not, he said it was just as well because it smelled like sea lion shit.

We made it all the way to the NW corner of Oregon. We're now camped at Fort Stevens State Park. This is a really nice park with lots of campsites...most with probably 2 dozen kids each...or so it seems. But, they all have crashed now after a day at the beach and a muffled silence has settled over the park...except for that one persistent dog...and buzzing mosquitoes.

Wild West day 18

We arrived at Oregon Coast RV Resort (formerly Surfwood RV Campground) just south of Reedsport in Oregon. I had planned to get a little further up the coast, but fizzled out. The park we stayed in was okay for overnight, but full of old farts like us. I wouldn't recommend it for a "fun" spot unless you are into some kind of geriatric studies.

I set up my Tailgater Dish TV antenna and soon had an audience full of questions, mainly how did it work and how much did it cost. Later as Ditto took me for a walk, a guy came driving up in a pickup pulling a boat. In the back of his truck were 6 or 8 crab traps. But, he didn't have any luck. He had set them out too late, he explained.

Wild West day 17

Hit Crater Lake today.  Man! Is this worth the trip!  The road had a spot or two closed due to mud slides from winter snow melt, so we couldn't go all the way around, but we traveled most of the way. Proceeding on, we found a nice quiet little primitive National Forest campground beside Diamond Lake near Crater Lake in Oregon.  I think the name was Umpqua/Thielsen View Campground. It did not remain quiet for long, however.  Being Friday, it wasn't long before some weekenders moved in across from us and the noise began.

Wild West day 16

Mountain Man RV Park

This park is a nice little quiet park and well outfitted.  Once again, I failed to get a photo here and I don't know why.  I had plenty of time.

We parked backed up to the West Fork of the Illinois River.  The park was layed out in sort of a two part park.  We are at one end where most campers are short timers like us.  The other end is more seasonal and permanent campers.  The park is located on the western fringe of the Redwood forest and has several huge Redwoods in the park.  Ditto and I were walking around the camp road loop when I noticed several big pine cones on the ground...I mean BIG pine cones.  So, I picked one up for a souvenir and just as I did, a guy came driving in a black pickup.  He circled on around the loop and stopped at his campsite just a couple of sites down from the shower house.  Later, the guy came over and said he had noticed me picking up pine cones.  My first thought was perhaps it was against the law.  But then, he asked if I wanted a rock souvenir and that he had some in the back of his truck.  Then my thoughts went to Lucille Ball and The Long Long Trailer.  So, I declined and we continued visiting for awhile with no more mention of souvenirs.  Then just before dark, Ditto and I were checking out the shower house and we walked by the black pickup and the guy was there at his campsite.  He raised the question about collecting rocks again only this time I was standing right by the truck.  He reached in and picked up a pinkish colored rock about the size of large grapefruit and tossed it to me.  I instinctively braced for the heavy rock.  When I caught it, though, it was like a piece of Styrofoam.  He laughed and explained it was pumice, a rock formed from a dust from volcanic action.  It's mostly air.  In fact, it will actually float until it becomes waterlogged.  So, I kept it.  If Lucy had collected pumice, Desi would not have had so much trouble trying to tow their trailer.

Wild West day 15

Richardson's Grove Campground Forgot to take a picture here, too, so the link will have to suffice. The campground was a bit run down, though it was evident they were working to improve it.  However, being a "family campground", their biggest priority was the new "meeting house" where religious oriented meetings were held.  There was a big crowd at their meeting house when we arrived which was interesting because the number of occupied campsites didn't seem to match.  A little later, the meeting broke up and out came mostly young people.  As it turns out, they were mostly locals, not campers, gathered for some church singing and guitar picking. The neighbor on our right was driving (sort of) an old rusty van type motor home.  The guy was a youngish fellow from Australia.  His companion, a young woman from the Los Angeles area.  He had apparently just bought the RV and it wasn't in very good operational condition. In fact, he didn't even have a power cord for it and came over to ask if he could plug into one of our outlets to charge his girlfriend's phone.  They were obviously living on the edge.  Edge of what, I'm not sure.  He had a fun Australian accent.  We charged his girl's phone. Another camper was sitting at a picnic table just across from us and we struck up a conversation.  He was a young fellow, probably mid to lower twenties.  He said he was just hitchhiking around the country and had stopped at this campground.  The campground has a few cabins to rent and he had struck a deal with them if they let him stay in one of their cabins, he'd do handyman work for them.  Guess they didn't rent out the cabins all that often.  Anyway, we discussed the difference in hitchhiking today compared to when I was a young sailor thumbing a ride.

Wild West day 14

Leaving Angels Camp, we headed across the Napa Valley toward the California coast. We spent the night at Doran Regional Park on Bodega Bay. It was WINDY and quite chilly. Welcome to sunny California. Woke up to a heavy coast fog. No wind now, but still chilly. It took a while for the fog to burn off, so we couldn't see a lot of coast as we headed on up Highway 1. Finally, the "coast was clear" and we enjoyed the drive.

Wild West day 13

Yosemite! Golllleeee! I've never been here before and if you haven't either, better get snappin' before it all gets trampled down. My pitiful little camera just cannot do it justice. But, here's a few samples of what you are missing. Here's one of the things I like about our little Era. Parallel parking in a motorhome! The upper falls is an icon most of us expect to see when we see pictures of Yosemite. Unfortunately, it's a trail hike up to see it and we don't do hikes. We did see an interesting man-made wonder...some guy in a 40' motorhome towing a Jeep trying to turn around in a parking lot. He couldn't quite make it past a little car parked in a valid spot, but on the end of the row. 40' motorhomes don't bend around things. No, he didn't hit the car, but he couldn't back up either. At least, not with his Jeep tailing behind. As we left the scene, he was busy unhitching his Jeep. Later, he passed us while we were sitting by the roadside, and yes, his Jeep was in tow. It's probably a good thing their windows were closed because his wife didn't appear too happy. Out the other side on Hwy 120, we hit Hwy 49 and angled up just past New Melones Lake to Angels Camp RV Park. Ditto encountered her first dog park here. She wasn't impressed except by all the different doggie odors EVERYWHERE. But, it was a nice RV park. Of course, it's one I missed taking a photo of.

Wild West day 12

We left China Lake and headed over to Inyokern, then up Hwy 395. Hwy 395 runs along the eastern base of the Sierras, up past 9-mile canyon road where we used to go trout fishing and camping on occasion. But, it was a pretty hairy road back then and I doubted it had been improved much, so I did not consider the drive up 9-mile canyon. On a bit further is Owens Lake or what used to be Owens Lake. In 1913, Los Angles started sucking it dry. By 1926, it was. Now it's a dust bowl when the wind kicks up. We kept going. We arrived at Lee Vining in late afternoon. Had a super duper ice cream cone and headed on across the mountains on Hwy 120 into Yosemite. We did not have any reservations, but we thought there was enough daylight left that we could try the first big campground in the park to see if they had a vacancy. If not, we'd go back out to Lee Vining and camp. But, we lucked out and got a campsite in Yosemite. Yeah! We met some interesting neighbors while here.  In the camp right next to us was a class C rental (similar to our old Pumpkin).  The first thing we noticed was the little kids jumping out the door.  It reminded me of another day, another west trip a long time ago. Our 1970 vacation in Yellowstone And our French neighbors in Yosemite Well, time to eat and hit the sack. Big day tomorrow.

Wild West day 11

Death Valley Days... After our close call with low fuel, I was a little tentative about heading into Death Valley. Well, can you blame me? But, with a full tank of diesel and a full tank of fresh water, plus ample groceries, we dove in. This plaque briefly identifies the point where a wagon train of 49ers split, trying to get out of Death Valley. One group went north and the other went south. Guess which group made it out...they both did, after abandoning their wagons and walking out with their horses and oxen. This is the lowest point in Death Valley, reported to be 282 ft. below sea level. My super duper, highly accurate, never lies GPS agreed. The red line points to a red bucket surrounding where a sign noting sea level is displayed well above us. Golden Canyon...back in '66 or '67, Vic & Linda Koeneman drove up from Montclair (or was it Clairmont?), Ca. where they lived at the time. They had a VW van and we all piled in for a visit to Death Valley. We drove up this canyon quite some distance and got out to scout around. It was winter, February, I think, and there was a light misty rain, wetting all the pebbles and stones in the canyon. The stones were beautifully colored. We collected as many as we dared and took them back home. The next day, the stones had dried out and were all plain old tan colored. So, we put them in our fish aquarium and the colors returned. Today, Joyce and I visited the canyon. It is now blocked off to vehicle traffic and only foot traffic allowed. Leaving Death Valley From Death Valley, we continued on Hwy 178 toward Ridgecrest, Ca. We passed through Trona, an old nearly extinct boron mining town. It now produces soda ash from the alkaline Searles Lake bed. From Trona, onward to Ridgecrest and the nearby China Lake Naval Base, more accurately known as Navy Air Weapons Station. This is where I was stationed from 1965 to 1967. This is where Joyce says she grew her "core". Or, Joyce hated it there. Probably her only bright spot is Michael was born there. We camped at the base "Famcamp" RV park. It was brand new, no grass and only some newly planted sapling trees. But, it had nice RV pads and a decent shower/laundry. However, it is still in the desert. The desert Joyce hated and the wind we both despised. Wouldn't you just love to live here?

Wild West day 10

We spent the night at Fun N Sun Trailer Park in Overton, NV.  Big park, but pretty nondescript.  At least, we had full hookups.  I forgot to get a photo.

On the way to Hoover Dam the next morning, we passed through The Valley Of Fire State Park on the shores of Lake Mead. It's a lesser known park with some interesting rock formations. I know, I know. More rocks!

And some of the local talent.

Then we arrived at Hoover Dam.

Joyce and I visited Hoover Dam in 1963 as we traveled from Whidbey Is., Wa. to Memphis, Tn.

Then again in 2014

We've changed a lot, but so has the dam. The big stone monument Joyce was standing in front of in the '63 photo is still there, but now you must park a long ways off and walk back across the dam to get to it. We try to avoid walking these days, so we did what we could.

The biggest change at the dam is the new bridge spanning the canyon just below the dam. Actually, it is above the dam, but downstream from it. This is a view of it from the dam. Impressive!

Departing Hoover Dam, we cut across the lower part of Las Vegas and headed for Death Valley. As we were leaving Vegas, I began looking for a filling station. But, none were found along our route. My GPS and my trip program plotted a route across the Nevada state line into California heading for a little town named Tecopa, Ca. I checked my fuel gauge and I had enough to get there with a little to spare. But, as we headed down The Old Spanish Trail Hwy, things began to get worrisome. The gauge was going down, but all we could see was rocks and sand. My trusty old GPS showed the checkered flag and so we kept plodding on. Then the pavement ran out. Oh crap! I was probably beyond the point of no return by then so we just kept going. Finally, we reached the location of where the GPS thought Tecopa was. It wasn't. We turned around and backtracked to a little settlement we had passed and I stopped and asked a woman with two bad dogs behind a fence (thank goodness) where the nearest filling station was that carried diesel. It was about 10 miles thataway. My low fuel light had been on for several miles already, but we had no choice. Maybe we could, at least, get in cell phone range so we could call for help. But, no such luck. We both died of thirst on the dusty desert...naw, we made it and was glad to pay $5.49/gal for diesel in Shoshone. Once my butt finally lost suction from the seat, I found a nice little RV park and blew off steam.  I still don't know how far I can go after the low fuel light comes on, though.

Whew!