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10-13- to 10-17 2020 Freedom!

With Covid19 creating all sorts of problems for travelers this year, it has been wonderful to have a way to get out a bit in our own socially distanced space. The MoHo is the perfect solution to getting away, and the only even remotely unsafe activity is buying fuel in any state that makes us pump our own.

On October 1 we loaded up the MoHo and headed north to Washington State to visit my daughter Deanna and her husband in addition to my grandkids and great grandkids. I realize that was 3 weeks ago, and I have yet to write the stories. That will come later. I somehow never managed to finish processing the photos before Mo said, “Hey, maybe we can go to Medicine Lake”.

As much as we love Medicine Lake, nestled in an ancient volcanic caldera in the highlands of far northern California, we haven’t been there in six years. Six. Looking back at the blog and the photos I was amazed that it took us so long to return to one of our favorite camping spots in the west. As I reviewed the years and went back over our calendar, I saw many factors that seemed to get in the way of our plans, not the least of which was the many years of fires creating smoky skies and closed forests in California and Oregon. This year wasn’t much different until mid-October, when the rains dampened the mountains a bit and the Forest Service re-opened the campgrounds in the California forests that had been closed for weeks.

We took our chances without reservations. After all, it is October, and at 7,200 feet nights are freezing and visitors might be few and far between. Most of the sites at Medicine Lake, in the 3 campgrounds, are on a first come first serve basis, including our favorite, number 43, in the A.H. Hogue Campground.

We packed up food and warm clothing, loaded the kayaks, hooked up the car, and were on the road south by 10AM. Fuel is still reasonable in Grants Pass, but we knew that boondocking for several nights would require a full gas tank. We knew there was a Pilot on our route south near Mt Shasta and Weed,and that would be the last opportunity to top of the tank before we settled into to camp for a few days without hookups. In fact, not only are there no hookups, we knew from experience that there is no cell service, no internet, no water, no trash pickup, no power, and we were ready for a few days off the grid. Nice to take a break from all the “stuff” out there going on right now.

We headed south on I-5. Funny, the map to Medicine Lake on Google shows an almost identical time and distance whether we travel south on the interstate into California, or back over the mountain to Klamath Falls. We decided to make it a loop, going south on the way down and returning via Klamath Falls.

Highway 89 was pleasant and smooth, without too much traffic, but once we turned back north on Forest Road 44 and then to Forest Road 49 toward Medicine Lake it changed. There was no traffic, I think we saw only one vehicle in the entire distance, and that was a pickup pulling a boat and trailer that was stuck in a ditch. Three guys gave us a thumbs up and we drove on. No cell service anyway so there wasn’t much we could do to help. The road was very narrow and very rough! I reminded myself to open the dish cupboards slowly. After bumpy roads all sorts of things can fall on your head if you open them too quickly.

It was 2:30 or so when we arrived at the campground and to our surprise, it was completely empty. There are 56 sites in Hogue, a few less in the adjacent Hemlock Campground which was also empty, and a few more in the Medicine Campground where there was one big rig tucked in under the trees far to the west of our campground. We unhooked up on the main road and drove right to our favorite spot.

Site 43 is on the lake side of the road, and once in place the rig could be leveled without too much difficulty. There is a beautiful stone firepit, a nice picnic table, a short easy trail to the water and a 180 degree view of the lake. We spent some time reviewing favorite campsites we have enjoyed throughout the years, and this is by far top on the list.

It didn’t take long for us to settle in. We put out our chairs and listened to the silence. Took Mattie for a walk around the campground road and decided that we would wait until the next day to unload the kayaks since the breeze had kicked up as it often does in the late afternoon. Supper was simple, reheating last night’s pizza in a skillet and still had to start up the generator for a few minutes to get it nice and hot in the microwave. After supper we returned to our chairs to enjoy the sunset.

Our sunset was spectacularly unspectacular. With no clouds, fires, or pollution to create color, the sun dropped behind the mountains to our west with an unceremonious ‘plop’. It was to be the case for each of the three nights we waited for sunset as we camped at Medicine Lake. Still, the afterglow on the lake was lovely as the skies darkened.

The first night was the coldest, and when we woke the next morning it was 32 degrees. The day was clear and gorgeous once again and we decided to spend some time exploring the local roads a bit before unloading and launching the kayaks for an afternoon paddle. Lava Beds National Monument is just 16 miles north of Medicine Lake on a decent dirt and gravel road that descends from the volcanic highlands to the lava wilderness below.

Information from the website:

“Medicine Lake Highlands is the largest identified volcano (in total area) within California, and is one of the most unique geologic features in North America. Because this subrange of the Cascades is somewhat remote, the fascinating nature of this area is largely unappreciated. The great Medicine Lake shield volcano’s broad, gently sloping profile (stretching some 15 miles from east to west and nearly 25 miles north and south) belies the fact that it is actually larger in mass than nearby Mt. Shasta. The Medicine Lake Highlands Volcanic Area exceeds 200 square miles and takes in portions of three National Forests; the Modoc, Klamath and Shasta-Trinity in Modoc and Siskiyou Counties. On the Shasta- Trinity the area lies within the boundaries of the McCloud Ranger District. It rises east of Mt. Shasta near the south end of the string of Cascade volcanoes that stretch northward from Mt. Lassen into British Columbia. Approximately 100,000 years ago the great volcano underwent a series of eruptions which undermined the center of the mountain and the crest subsided to create a huge crater or caldera. Around the margins of this subsidence, new, smaller volcanoes arose; they are called rampart volcanoes. Medicine Lake now partially fills the crater. Geologists speculate over what events took place that caused the unusual shapes and features to form and how a series of eruptions changed the face of the countryside in the area. One thing is clear, however; more than a million years of volcanic activity have produced a landscape that is perhaps California’s most diverse volcanic field. Furthermore, volcanic eruptions that produced geological features within the Medicine Lake Highlands were no less dramatic than the volcanic eruptions which took place on Mt. St. Helens.”

We had camped in Lava Beds last March and wondered how the campground and surrounding area had fared after the devastating Lava Beds fires that started on July 22. Seventy Percent of Lava Beds National Monument was burned but we had heard that the visitor center and most of the campground was saved.

Traveling north as we descended to the wild lava covered landscape we discovered the Mammoth Crater site. As with most of our travels on this trip, there wasn’t a soul around and we let Mattie walk ahead of us on the trail to the viewpoint. When I declined to continue on the steep part of the trail, I received a very reproachful look. Mattie won, and I am glad she did because the view from lower point was spectacular.

We read that Mammoth Crater and Modoc Crater are responsible for about 70% of the lava flow in Lava Beds. The lava that flowed from both of these craters is also responsible for the majority of lava tube caves found in the park. Mammoth crater once contained a massive lake of lava that overflowed instead of erupted, leaving behind the empty crater. The lava from this crater was highly fluid and traveled all the way to the northern part of the park, creating lava tube caves all along the way.

So heartbreaking to see this grand old juniper gone and the CCC table destroyed

This what this campsite looked like in March

This what it looked like this week after the fire

Continuing north towards the main park road, we turned toward the campground, excited to see that it was open and that people were camped. Surprisingly, there were far more people at Lava Beds than up the hill at the beautiful lake!. Driving through the campground to our previous camp site we were devastated to see that the fire had destroyed another of our favorite campsites. Last spring I took many photos of the ancient juniper that shaded the magnificent picnic table made of juniper planks attached to huge lava rocks. We loved the view when we camped last March, but today the view was much more open, but much more devastating. The park will recover. Juniper and grass and sage adapt to fire, but there won’t be junipers like this one for another couple hundred years.

As we returned south and up the mountain toward Medicine Lake, we again remarked on the striking and dramatic view of what the fire crews managed to save. On one side of the road was evidence of serious heavy equipment clearing out the highly flammable underbrush and how the combination of clearing and the firebreak of the road managed to stop the fire. It was impressive!

The winds were light when we returned to camp in the early afternoon and after lunch, around two, we decided to unload the kayaks and go for a little spin on the lake. The light winds were tolerable, but one of the things we love most about this lake is the beautifully still, glassy conditions that can make it such a delight to paddle. By the time we returned to camp after an hour of battling the “light” winds, our arms and shoulders were tired and our bodies were ready for some rest.

Relaxing again with our boring sunset, we made a plan for the following day. Who knows why we need a plan, but somehow setting a general time for what we want to do feels better when we are in a place where there are no deadlines, nothing we have to do and nowhere we have to be. It is an old joke for us, and goes all the way back to our very first camp together at Medicine Lake in 2003. We sat at the picnic table and Mo said, “Well, what do want to do?”. “hmm…well, we can eat and then we can do something, then we can eat lunch and do something, and then we can eat dinner.” Ever since, “we can eat and then do something and then eat” has been our inside joke.

The morning dawned as still and gorgeous as it had the previous day and even with a temperature of 38 degrees, we decided that waiting till ten to get on the lake would be a mistake. It was a perfect choice, and while our feet were a bit cold, the early morning sun warmed our backs wonderfully. We paddled across the lake just in time to see a fat and very fluffy coyote racing across the meadow, spooked out by a woman who was walking with her two dogs and didn’t know that coyote was right in front of her. We also saw herons and merganser ducks, an osprey, a young eagle, several deer, lots of sandpipers, a lovely family of grebes, and a couple of kingfishers. Our campsite was a virtual aviary of pine siskins, stellar jays, and black headed juncos. Of course, with only the phone, I have very few wildlife photos and none that are worth showing. I do miss having a great camera with a great telephoto lens. Every time I try to zoom in with the phone I get a blown-out murky photo that is not the least bit satisfying.

By the time we got off the water two hours later, the winds were rising. We were so glad we hadn’t waited in spite of the chill. Lunch of grapes and cheese and crackers was perfect and we settled in for a bit of chair and book time before heading out for our next planned activity. Mattie loved the sunshine and relaxing part of the day and took full advantage of the freedom to be off leash with not another soul around.

The short hike to Little Glass Mountain is just north of the campground and is about .4 a mile long one way. It is in a field of pumice, shaded by old lodgepole pine. I am not a fan of lodgepole, but here they are thick and healthy and quite lovely. The little cones are just about perfect.

Little Glass Mountain has been identified as the area of most recent volcanic activity about 300 years ago. These eruptions first spread white pumice for miles around. A nearby cinder cone, Pumice Stone Mountain, was completely covered with pumice and a startling, smooth, white dome remains. These pumice eruptions were followed by flows of black volcanic glass, called obsidian. There are other obsidian flows in the Highlands area, some of which are over 1,000 acres in size. Prehistoric people used this material to make arrowheads and spearpoints. Many archaeological sites have been identified, and some artifacts indicate that the Highlands have been inhabited for at least 4,500 years.

The temperature was perfect, Mattie could again be off leash with no one around, and the level path to the glass flow was delightful. We reached the obsidian, wandered a bit farther toward the west end of the flow and then returned the way we had come. Once in the past we thought to take off cross country and discovered that the flat landscape and lodgepole forest can be misleading. This time we stuck to the trail.

Our last planned activity for the day was to take off again in the Tracker and explore a road east of the campground that was marked, “Private Cabins”. It was a short trip, and a short road, but it led to a surprising number of forest service type cabins and homes that were nestled and tucked away in the thick dark lodgepole forest on the southeast side of the lake. From the campground, there is no clue as to the number of homes that are hiding there in the trees. We hadn’t seen them when kayaking on that side of the lake. It wasn’t particularly inviting to me. I have lived long enough in a dark forest that I appreciate open skies and sunshine and was grateful that the campground is on the south facing side of the lake.

Our remaining activity of the day was a small one. Haul the kayaks back up the short slope to the waiting car. We both discovered that the leg strength required for getting out of the kayaks can be a bit challenging. Sure hope we can continue to do that for a few more years. Surprisingly, once we got the boats up the hill, getting them on top the car wasn’t difficult. Still managing that without much trouble. Good news.

Saturday morning we woke easily after a night that was a bit warmer than the previous two nights, with a temp of 47 degrees at 7 AM. There were a few more people around, with two more sites occupied in our campground and a couple more east of us in the Hemlock campground. We were both really delighted with our Medicine Lake trip this year, and know that we won’t be worried about trying to camp there in the early fall months until the snow flies.

The return trip to Grants Pass through Klamath Falls held a little bit of extra fun. We had arranged to meet Katie, a good friend of ours, currently a soil scientist at the Klamath Falls office where I worked after retirement until 2017. Katie is an amazing young woman, full of life and full of adventure. It was wonderful spending a leisurely patio lunch with her as we caught up on life’s random craziness. Sorry Katie, I forgot to take photos so I stole this one from your Facebook page. You and your sweetie!

On the trip home I remembered what I love most about the Klamath Basin. The thousands, maybe millions of birds are staging for migration. Klamath Lake was thick with coots, ducks of all kinds, grebes, pelicans, and egrets lining the shoreline. The aspens were turning on Highway 140 as we approached our old home in Rocky Point. It was a perfectly beautiful trip without a speck of drama and a lot of quiet time for us.

10-01-2020 Traveling to Northern Washington

Just a mention: be sure to click on the photo if you want to see the larger version in my SmugMug gallery, and if you wish to view the blog on the original blogger platform, where the print is nicer and the photos are bigger, click here.

The MoHo in Site 3 at LePage on the John Day River

I have hesitated a bit in writing this particular blog. I set the posting date for October 6, but today it is actually October 26 and I am finally sitting down to write about our trip.

Early evening at LePage where the John Day River meets the Columbia

Some might guess the reason for my hesitation. It was a family visit, one of those gatherings that seem to engender all sorts of responses from all random corners of the internet about social distancing, mask wearing, and staying at home. I know there will be reactions out there and I really don’t like having to explain myself, but I guess I have to at least try, because I want to write about our trip. I don’t want an empty spot in the blog that is our personal history.

Late Afternoon on the John Day River

After many months of keeping mostly to ourselves, like others, I suffered from family hunger. I wanted to see my daughter before winter set in, I wanted to see my grandkids before they have grandchildren of their own, I wanted to see my great-grandkids. I said to Mo, “What do you think about a trip to Lincoln to visit Deanna and Keith?”. As always, Mo was ready for a journey, ready for a trip, and we decided we could take our chances and go visit the family. In fairness, I talked extensively with Deanna before deciding to go. At the time, her county in northeastern Washington state had 2, yes, you read that right, 2 cases of COVID and no deaths. Our county here in Oregon had some of the lowest numbers in our state as well. My grandson is isolated on his homestead, and my great-grandkids are being schooled at home. No one seemed to be in any danger of either being sick or being exposed. Mo and I were clean, the family was clean, and we decided to go.

Full moon night on the John Day River at LePage

Unlike days in the past, where my blog had a few hundred readers each day, the numbers have reduced considerably since I no longer blog on a regular basis. The days of blogging the way we used to are definitely waning, but as I had said before, it is the history and the memories that are important to me. If I were writing only for myself, I would have to make no explanations, but even the few readers I have left will no doubt have some opinions, pro or con, about our choice to travel and visit family. So, to set the minds of those few readers at ease…it has been 3 weeks now and we are all just fine and still healthy.

We decided to travel the eastern route toward Crater Lake and Highway 97, intercepting I-84 at Biggs Junction on the Columbia River. It would have been possible to make the trip in a day of long driving, as my daughter Deborah did, but no reason for us to do that. Instead, we made a reservation at LePage, a campground we are familiar with and have used often.

I was very glad I had made the reservation since the campground was completely full. It is an easy place to stay for an overnight, and with our geezer pass quite inexpensive with water and electric. The somewhat shocking surprise was the recent clearing of the big old cottonwoods and locust trees that shaded the campground. It felt quite different, and much more open, but for only a night it wasn’t bad. On a hot day, I am sure folks would miss those trees, however the newly planted saplings will be more healthy, much safer, and will eventually shade the campsites.

The view from Deanna’s windows

Smoke at varying levels was our constant companion on the trip north, and the murky skies followed us all the way to Davenport. Once we arrived at daughter Deanna and husband Keith’s property, the smoke cleared a bit. Our early afternoon arrival was perfect, in time to visit before supper.

Left to Right: Deanna, Deb, Keith, Mo

Daughter Deborah, and Grandson Matthew had arrived the previous night after driving all day from Southern Oregon. When we got to Deanna’s everyone was having a great time cooking together and visiting. Grandson Steven lives about an hour north, and he drove down for dinner as well with my other great-grandson Matthew. The younger Matt became known as Matt-Two as the weekend wore on.

Theron “Tito”, Tracey, and Tearany “Squish”

On Saturday morning the rest of the family arrived, with Tracey coming from Wenatchee with 3 of my great-grandkids to spend the weekend.

Keith and Deanna have a dog free house, but they made an exception for Mattie

Grandpa Keith with my great-grandson Orion

Left to right: Keith, Theron, Orion, Tearany, Deanna, Matt-Two

Deanna’s home is on acreage overlooking Roosevelt Lake, and there is a resident herd of bighorn sheep that help themselves to her ripe peaches and apples.

Notice the pretty orange Kubota tractor. Keith and Deanna purchased Mo’s trusty Kubota last summer. We lots of photos of grandkids being driven around by Mo on that tractor when they were small.

We later made a trip back to grandsons Steven’s house to see his beautiful homestead and meet his new sweetheart. The day was warm and sunny with the skies clearing a bit.

Grandsons Matthew and Steven

Stormy and Steven at their home

Deanna, Deborah and Mattie checking out the chicken house at Steven’s place

With lots of food and laughter the day just seemed to flow and came to a great conclusion with a late birthday party for me and for Steven, who share the same birthdate, September 15. It is kind of neat that my first grandchild was born on my 37th birthday.

Great-grandkids decorated our birthday cake

With lots of silliness going on, we laughed a lot at Matt-Two’s interpretation of the yoga moves that Stormy and Steven were directing.

It was beyond wonderful having the chance to see this part of my family again. I haven’t visited these great-grandkids for almost 3 years, since Christmas 2018, and I felt like I simply couldn’t wait any longer. I’ll treasure every single moment of this visit.

We chose to return on Monday by way of Mo’s brother’s home in Beaverton, who has also been socially distanced with his own family bubble for several months. We broke our bubble to share time with them as well, but opted for an outdoor supper at the local food cart parking lot on the outskirts of Portland. It wasn’t quite as exciting as I had hoped, with the biggest cartlandia location being recently closed and many carts relocated throughout the city. Still it was a fun evening and Dan and Chere had hookups and space available for the MoHo so we could sleep in our own space.

Silly me, I got photos of the new living room furniture at Melody’s but no people photos!

The trip south toward Grants Pass took us within three miles of Daughter Melody’s new home in Brownsville and we stopped in for an afternoon visit and lunch with her as well. Melody is still working from home after 7 months now. She and Robert moved into their “new” home (built in 1908) right as COVID started and she has been working from home every since.

Overall it was a wonderful trip, with a warm dose of family time to help heal the isolation that we have been living through for so very long. And as I said, we are all OK. Might be nothing more than pure luck, but I am glad that luck was with all of us.

09-14-2020 A Wheel of Fortune Birthday

As I write this morning, the air is cooler, insulated from the September sun by the thick smoke that surrounds us and extends over much of the United States. I am grateful for every little bit of relief, no matter how small

After Jimmy and Nickie left for Farewell Bend and Crater Lake, we settled in to what seemed to be a gorgeous day. Clear skies with winds still over 20 mph didn’t hamper our work on the property raking up debris from the huge windstorm from the previous night.

What we didn’t realize on that Tuesday was that the huge windstorm had triggered huge fires that were moving at warp speed toward communities all over the state of Oregon.

I monitored the fires and made repeated efforts to contact Nickie to no avail. We settled in and enjoyed the gorgeous skies here in Grants Pass for another day.

Melody and Robert’s home in Brownsville

On Wednesday morning messages were flying back and forth between me and my two daughters. Melody, youngest, was in Brownsville north of Eugene with what is now called the Holiday Farm fire racing toward her community.

We had some good meals while the kids were here

Moments later after extended conversations with Deborah, oldest daughter, where she insisted she would be fine, I received a terse message saying, “We have been evacuated, I am coming there.” Shortly after Deborah arrived, I got a message from Melody saying that she and her family were evacuating as well. Their home wasn’t in an evacuation area just yet, but the speed of the fires frightened her and she needed to leave.

Melody has been working from home since COVID began and continued to do so from here

Before all this started, Mo and I had made reservations with Maryruth and Gerald to have a very special dinner at Morrison’s River Lodge on the Rogue River. The young chef is new and his reputation was stellar.

We thought a beautiful dinner outdoors on a lovely deck overlooking the Rogue was just what we all needed to take our minds off what was just beginning to be a week from hell in Oregon.

We added Deborah to the reservation and Maryruth’s daughter was also visiting from California, escaping her fires and smoke near Sacramento.

Deborah and Cathy are just 3 days apart in age, and have known each other since they were 8 months old, when Maryruth and I first met.

It was a wonderful evening, with absolutely stellar food presented beautifully.

In addition to the most tender brisket I have ever eaten, (sorry Janna), we had salads and veggies from the on site garden, and iconic Oregon blackberry creme brulee for dessert.

Excellent Oregon Pinot Noir and a local rose accompanied the lovely meal. What a treat!

The air remained crystal clear until just a few minutes before our departure for the river and by the time we settled down for dinner the skies were murky and the sun was orange. It was only the beginning.

The next few days are a blur in my mind, with Melody and Robert keeping their cats company in the closed garage since we didn’t want to lose them in a strange house. Deborah and Melody spent much time attempting to keep track of the changing evacuation zones near her house, and trying to see where the fires were headed.

Mattie loves having company and adores Robert

The smoke was thick every single day, and as we watched the small towns of Phoenix and Talent between Medford and Ashland were decimated. The destruction is horrendous, and so far we have no clear numbers as to homes lost or casualties, which is also true for the rest of Oregon. Law enforcement keeps saying they want real numbers before they say how many lives have been lost.

On Friday, Deborah decided to return home, and using her identification was able to get through the evacuation barriers to her home, which was fine. Today the fire is growing in the opposite direction and we are all fairly certain she will be OK, except for the smoke which is awful no matter where you go.

By Sunday morning Robert and Melody felt safe enough to return home as well. The fires are still burning but the horrendous winds which fueled the initial onslaught of destruction have dissipated. Those winds were to use Nickie’s least favorite word, unprecedented. Our weather comes from the coast to the west fairly consistently until an occasional winter storm will bring and east or a north wind. This time 75 mph winds from the east were hot and dry, very unusual for this time of year on the west side of the Cascades where most of the fires are now burning. Unprecedented.

Baking a birthday cake for my day

It is now Tuesday. The news is ongoing, but the fast moving fires have so far slowed a bit, communities are beginning to assess the damage and everyone is basically in a holding pattern. COVID receded to simple background noise during the worst of the onslaught, except for the difficulty encountered with sheltering people who were evacuated. Once again instead of checking fire and smoke maps, I am checking the website that tracks COVID numbers. We have a total of a bit more than 29,000 confirmed cases in Oregon and the deaths in the state are fairly consistent at 3 to 8 deaths per week. Here in Josephine county we have had a total of 178 confirmed cased and only 2 deaths since all this began back in March. I am grateful to live in Oregon.

All our travel and camping plans for the rest of the month have been cancelled. Nowhere to go with all the forests and campgrounds closed and the skies all smoked in. We are still hoping to travel north on the first of October to visit family in Northern Washington.

A long time ago I delved deeply into the study of the Tarot, not as a fortune telling tool, but as a psychological study of archetypal images and how we can be affected by them. One of those great timeless archetypes is represented by a card called “The Wheel of Fortune”.

Now cheapie kinds of fortune tellers will say if you get this card you might win the lottery, but when one goes a bit deeper into the psyche of the image it tells a completely different story. I mention this because based on my birthday (today), I am in a Wheel of Fortune year. Fun. What it really means is that whether for good or bad you can expect your fortunes to change and your goal is to figure out how to stay centered and balanced in the midst of the wild ride.

I can’t think of a better way to describe the year that almost everyone has experienced, beginning for me with the death of my son. My meditation for this 75th birthday is to focus on the center of that wheel and to do my very best to remain balanced as our fortunes spin and turn from good to bad to terrifying.

09-06-2020 Great Times with Great Friends

When I last wrote, it was Tuesday morning and I was reeling from the overnight devastation that blew up in Oregon with very little warning. I had no idea then just how extensive the damage would be, and wrote about our winds and our trees and our friends who had only disappeared the day before into the beautiful Cascades for a camping trip along the Rogue River. It was a few days before we heard from Jimmy and Nickie (Out and About with Nickie and Jimmy) and if you would like to hear their version of this wild and wooly week, be sure to check in on Nickie’s blog.

However, on Saturday when they arrived at our home here in Grants Pass, the skies were gorgeous and if memory serves me right, there were no big fires burning anywhere near us.

It was great to see them pull into the driveway and we were happy to share our home and fresh air with the refugees from fire and smoke in California. Little did we know.

With much to catch up on since our last in person visit, we settled into the house for conversation and some relaxation before supper. Even though our skies were clear, it was much too hot for al fresco dining on the deck, so I only stepped outside long enough to grill the marinated chicken for some tasty fajitas.

On a bit of a silly side note here: I have to note how my word choices may have changed over the years. I say “al fresco” much more often to describe outdoor dining since knowing Erin who now writes on FindPengiuns, and of course “tasty” was a favorite word of Awesome George the keeper of almost daily blog posts and many great “tasty” recipes.

But back to the weekend. Saturday was hot, but the air conditioning worked beautifully and dinner was enjoyable indoors. After watching the weather predictions for record heat coming on Sunday we thought it might be nice to spend the day at the coast. It is just a 2 hour drive, much of it along the beautiful Smith River. Highway 199 passes Jedediah Smith State and National Park on the way to our destination in Crescent City. The entire idea seemed just perfect until the smoke began to thicken as we headed west. What?? Smoky at the beach? Unheard of!

We watched the thermometer drop from 95 degrees at 10 AM in Grants Pass to just under 85 degrees in the shade of the huge redwoods in the forest at the park. Even the smoke cleared a bit under the trees as they pumped oxygen into the surprisingly warm air.

Driving into the park, we had planned to travel the back route along the Howland Hill Road but were told that road was temporarily closed at the end closest to Crescent City. Instead we drove to the day use area, and as fate would have it, found one of the few open spots for parking right under a favorite giant redwood along the narrow one lane road.

In Nickie’s blog she mentions light traffic on 199, but as regular travelers of that road Mo and I kept remarking to ourselves that we had never seen so many cars heading toward the beach as there were on this day. Admittedly, we rarely go to the coast in summer, for this very reason, usually much too crowded this time of year. On a day of record heat in the Rogue Valley, it wasn’t surprising that everyone was headed for the coast.

We enjoyed the trees in the park, laughing and trying to figure out how to get panoramas that would depict the incredible height of this magnificent tree. Nickie wandered off, (something she does often), and came back exclaiming that she had found a trail along a river down the hill through the brush. We followed her through the thick vegetation till we came upon a lovely flat trail surrounded by huge trees, ferns and thick vegetation.

The walk was superb until I realized we were in the midst of legendary poison oak, with some of the evil vines extending 20 feet up in the trees. Time to turn around! Walking through poison oak isn’t too difficult if you don’t have a happy little dog along that wants to explore every single thing.

Yes, the red stuff on that tree is poison oak

We returned to the car and continued toward Crescent City and our major destination, The Chart Room. It isn’t a fancy place, and dining is often accompanied by the loud barking of the resident sea lions that take over the pier. Today they were out on the floating docks nearby, and the pier was thick with parked cars and many people lined up waiting for the same legendary fish and chips that brought us here. The last time Mo and I were at this restaurant as we drove south last February it was a Monday and was closed.

We were really looking forward to the fish and chips, the predicted 69 degree coolness of the coast, and the fresh air. Sadly, the temps were in the 90’s, feeling much hotter as we stood in the hot sun for 50 minutes waiting to place our order. We then waited another half hour to receive the order.

Then it was a matter of deciding where to eat our glorious meal. The beach was thick with people and hot with blazing sun. No tables, nothing to sit on, no shade. Instead we decided to drive south toward Crescent Beach looking for a parking spot. Every single wide place in the road was filled with parked cars and people, people everywhere!

Driving farther south on a side road to the west of Highway 101 toward Endert’s Beach we were thrilled to not only find a space to park, but perfectly level rocks in lovely shade for tables and a distant view of the ocean below us. I wasn’t sure if the fish and chips were as good as they seemed or if they were enhanced by what it took to get them and the fact that we were really hungry since it was after 2PM.

After lunch we continued down to the end of Endert’s Beach Road to the beach trailhead. The parking lot was filled to the brim, but one of the little compensations of a crummy disease is that little blue card I can hang in the windshield that gives me premium parking when it is needed most. We parked in the handicap site right by the bathroom at the head of the trail.

The sign said it was only .6 of a mile to the beach. Piece of cake! I hiked Boundary Springs, and National Creek Falls, and through the redwoods. I could do a mile standing on my head.

I discovered that a mile isn’t always just a mile. The trail started out smooth and level but then descended rapidly over the coastal cliffs and ended at steep rocks that were a barrier that I couldn’t manage to navigate.

Even Mattie couldn’t go down and run on the beach because of the many other dogs off leash with the same idea and they were a lot bigger than she was. Still, in spite of the struggle for me and the disappointment for Mattie, I was glad we did the hike. It was hot and a bit smoky, but the little beach tucked away at the bottom of the cliffs was delightful.

Back in the car we decided to try to find a spot of sand for Mattie to run free a bit, her favorite thing. Mo parked across from Crescent Beach and took Mattie out to the sand. She ran wild for about 20 seconds and then stopped cold and tried to run back to the car. Either it was just too darn hot for her, or she was exhausted from all the previous hiking. Our little girl is getting older, I guess, just like me.

We piled into the car and I think as Mo drove home along the winding Smith River, all three of us and the dog slept at least a little bit.

Even though the smoke had been present at the beach, as we approached Grants Pass we were greeted with extreme heat and hot temps. Dinner wasn’t needed after our late afternoon meal and we settled in to visit a bit before bedtime. It was then that we heard reports of a wind advisory for the following night.

When we woke on Monday, skies were clear and except for the wind advisory, everything seemed to be just fine. After more visiting, and waffles and farmer’s market peaches for breakfast, Jimmy and Nickie packed up their rig and headed east toward the Cascades for their camping trip along the Rogue.

Not one of us had a clue what the coming week would bring. But that is the rest of the story.

09-07-2020 September Times

Such a great weekend we just spent with our California friends, Nickie and Jimmy Wilkinson. However,as I write this morning, I am watching wild winds blowing all sorts of debris across the property, depositing much of it on what just a few days ago was a nice litter free lawn and drive. Change comes fast this time of year.

The workshop isn’t really crooked, just a phone photo that wouldn’t adjust properly

I am also looking at fire maps, smoke maps, photos from friends and family in other parts of our state that are undergoing a firestorm of huge proportions. Smoke is thick and dark all the way from Eugene to Portland.

Iconic landscapes that define the Oregon Cascades and their foothills are burning or evacuated. MacKenzie Bridge along the MacKenzie River, the Mt Jefferson Wilderness, the gorgeous Santiam Canyon, and even our precious Silver Falls State Park are evacuated and in the line of fire.

We were awakened at 1 by 40 mph winds and smoke so thick it infiltrated the house with doors opened for just a moment to check the property. Back to sleep at 4:30 AM, restless, still with power researching as much as I could find out. A new fire at Collier State Park heading for Chiloquin, that this morning I see has managed to turn just enough west to run into Klamath Lake and miss the town of Chiloquin, but not the many homes scattered in the Oregon Shores developments of Agency Lake.

Power out here for just long enough to make us nervous, but it came back on in time for morning coffee. Talking to my frightened daughter Melody on the phone, whose home in Brownsville is located between the two huge fires, one to the north and one to the south, and so far her town isn’t in danger. Incredibly, her power outage didn’t last long either.

Melody’s home in Brownsville this morning

Our friends left yesterday around noon for their planned camping trip to Farewell Bend, with clear skies and fairly hot temperatures. They had seen the predictions for a “major wind and fire event” to come. Their home in California is thick with smoke, and they needed to breathe. When they left, the smoke maps showed clear skies at their destination, but in the middle of the night when I woke up and checked the map, I can see they were surrounded by thick smoke and being battered by ridiculously high winds. “Unprecedented”, using Nickie’s current least favorite word.

I worry, of course. Farewell Bend is high enough in the mountains to have no cell phone coverage, much less internet coverage. I am reasonably certain that if there were anything to fear, the forest service people would close the park and tell them to go. So far I have heard nothing, so must assume they made it through the night without any trees falling on their rig, any fires starting in their area, and hopefully the ability to breathe.

I planned to sit and write about our truly delightful visit with them, but couldn’t even begin to do the happy la-la-la story that was completely overwhelmed by the events of the last 12 hours. It happens so very quickly.

Speaking with daughter Deanna in Lincoln, Washington, I discovered that the fires in that area are even more devastating than they are here in Oregon. The Whitman County town of Malden, population about 200 people,was largely destroyed by a fast moving fire. Interstate 90, Highway 395, Highway 2 all closed. Much of Washington under threat from even higher winds than we have here in Oregon.

The workshop isn’t really crooked, just a phone photo that wouldn’t adjust properly

The sun is shining here, the smoke has thinned considerably, and the erratic winds come and go. I may even get outside to water in time, but for the moment I will wait for the craziness to ebb a bit. Those winds kick up with no warning whatsoever.

In the meantime, I will wish the best for my friends camping in the Oregon mountains, for my daughter and her many friends in the Willamette Valley and the beautiful canyons on the west slope of the Cascades, for so many people in so many places that are dealing with what is turning out to be another devastating, unprecedented season of wildfire.

When I am ready, I will slip back into the pleasant recent memories of our time with Nickie and Jimmy, both here at home and on our day trip to the Oregon Coast.