California – Page 9 – The MoHo and Other Traveling Tales

South to California

Hitch Itch. Full timers get it, folks with an RV parked in the shed get it too. The past couple of weeks have been focused on work and home chores, and we both knew we wanted to get in another local camping trip before we head for Colorado at the end of the month. Medicine Lake comes to mind first, a favorite high mountain destination, but we thought there might still be snow there this early. Then fate stepped in with an invitation to a retirement party in Davis, California for a colleague. We thought about it a bit and finally came up with a plan. Oroville!
There is a big lake there, nice campgrounds, my best friend and her husband are right there, and it is just a two hour drive to Davis so I could go to the party. Calling the State Recreation Area phone number for reservations, we were shocked to find that electric hookup sites (no sewer) at the Bidwell Canyon Campground cost $45.00, plus the reservation fee. Geez. California parks are too dang expensive. So I looked around a bit and came up with the KOA RV Park that is adjacent to the Feather Falls Casino and for $37.00 got a nice site with full hookups, free WiFi, cable TV and a heated swimming pool. Hmmm, not such a bad idea. We figured that we could go to the lake for kayaking without paying that crazy price.
Sunday morning we decided to drive to Grants Pass to check out another possible MoHo property and then travel south on I-5, a route we rarely travel between Medford and Weed. The day was gorgeous and cool, with a bit of cloud cover and the drive was perfect. I always smile when bloggers post the photos of amazing Mt Shasta, and decided that I didn’t need to stop once again to take one more picture of “the mountain”.
The trip was wonderful and as always it feels so freeing to be in the MoHo on the road. I said to Mo, “It isn’t just going somewhere that I love, it is the movement, the feeling of being on the road, the scenery sliding by, the skies ever changing”. I guess I like that hum and vibration somehow. Sounds completely silly to me when I write it, and yet I do know the feeling. Bet others do too.
When we arrived at the KOA we were pleasantly surprised, but not before a moment or two of confusion. You see, there are two casinos in Oroville, and I thought we were somehow going to the one that is on the road to Maryruth’s house. Instead, the GPS kept trying to send me south of town to a completely different area. Turns out we really DID have the reservation south of town and not on Maryruth’s road at the Gold Country Casino.
Once settled in, we discovered what I think is the best KOA we have ever seen. I often avoid these parks because they seem expensive and crowded. This one won a Presidents Award of some kind and I can see why. The sites were absolutely, perfectly level concrete pads, surrounded by large lawns, with a wide parking area along the road in front of your site for the toad. There were picnic tables and plenty of shade under our very own lovely oak tree. There were even two dump outlets on the site, one in front and one in back which we so appreciated. So many parks are set up for just 5th wheels and pickup trucks and the dump is completely out of reach of a motorhome.
The grounds were beautifully manicured, the swimming pool clean and heated, with an adjacent holding pen for your dog, the hot tub fresh and hot, and the clubhouse cool and roomy. The store and office had a great supply of anything you might need. With the KOA club card, which ended up paying for itself after all the freebies, got us 20 bucks in free casino money in addition to the 10 bucks we got with our site. We were also informed that a simple phone call would bring the casino shuttle right to our camp site on demand. Right to the site! Ha! The funniest part of this story is that in the four days we were in Oroville, we never managed to get up to the casino and our coupons went unused.
On Monday, we decided to explore the Thermolito Forebay area, a part of the huge Oroville Dam complex of water management systems. The forebay was a perfect place for kayaking since there are no motorized boats allowed. It’s really nice not to have to compete with jet skiis and bit boat wakes and noise. I really love the MotionX GPS app for my iPhone, mentioned by Rick recently, and have used it now for several kayak paddles. It is fun to see just how fast we have paddled, how many miles we have covered and where we have been on the map. It even links photos to the sites and then I can upload the track to Facebook or send it via email. Just tickles me no end. Of course, another quirk of GPS is the excellence of X and Y and the complete goofiness of the Z factor, elevation. We discovered to our surprise that on our nice little lake the elevation changed by 30 feet while we were out there. Too funny.
I have had a few questions from readers regarding how hard it is to get in and out of the kayak so I made a quick video of the process, just for laughs. I am still trying to figure out how to get the video to embed without any luck, so may just add the YouTube URL in case you want to see it. If I can do it, anyone can!

Maryruth and Gerald came out to our little shady campsite that evening and we all went up to the Feather Falls Brewery where we were able to use the other coupons that gave us a discount on food. After dinner when we thought about playing the slots we all thought better of it and just went back to the campsite instead. Tuesday was our day to visit at their home, to see all the beautiful garden work that Gerald has done, and enjoy some of Maryruth’s legendary cooking.
Often Oroville can be unbearably hot, and just the week before we were there the temperatures were in the triple digits. For us, instead, we had beautiful skies, not a speck of smog or haze, and temperatures in the mid to high 80’s. Couldn’t have been more perfect.
On Wednesday Maryruth took us out to her sister’s houseboat for an afternoon on the water with lots of good food and drink. The shuttle picks up passengers at the marina and takes you right to your boat, and even let us bring the dog. We settled in with sunscreen, comfy chairs, and good conversation with a view of the water all around us. Abby and I both even managed a good swim. Mo was a bit concerned about getting her back on the deck of the houseboat, but in nothing flat, with a little encouragement, Abby learned how to climb that ladder right back up on the boat.
Thursday morning we decided to explore some other areas for kayaking, including the Afterbay and the Diversion Pool. The big lake itself it fine for kayaking as well, but not nearly as interesting. The last time we were there we encountered a lot of wind and boats, and there is a large area of houseboats near the launch that require navigating through before you get to some more open water.
I left Mo in the shade of the oak tree mid morning to go meet my friends in Davis. There are so many people that I know from California, and it was so good to see everyone. Dean Burkett, who had a position in Chico like my position in Oroville had also come to detail and map for me while I was there and we developed a great friendship.
When I had my retirement party two years ago, Dean gave up a 22 year tradition of attending a rendezvous to come to my party instead. You can bet I wasn’t about to miss his retirement send off! I also got to spend quality time with the other two “Sue’s”. We are all a rather interesting phenomenon in California, all GS-12 managers, all in California, and all named Sue. In a career choice that at one time didn’t have many women, this is particularly funny. We called ourselves “the three Sues,” Sierra Sue (me), Coastal Sue in Arcata, and Valley Sue in Davis. Plus we all have kayaks! The three sues kayak trip is still in the works, but we keep talking about it. I still sometimes get emails meant for one of the other sue’s and they get mine. It IS a funny thing.
I stayed much to late and arrived back home to the KOA far too late for Mo and I to attempt to gamble away our coupons as originally planned. Instead we got a few hours sleep before taking off the next morning by 6:30 AM. After all, I had a quilt class in Merrill, at the Tater Patch and couldn’t miss it. It was the final class in a group of three that I have attended. We decided to leave early enough to take the back route home, via Highway 70 along the Feather River, north to Lake Almanor and Susanville, and then on to Merrill. It was a gorgeous drive over a road I haven’t seen for more than 40 years and I loved every minute of it.
We arrived in Merrill just a few minutes before my class started, unhooked the baby car so Mo could go on home, and I managed to finish the series without falling asleep at the machine. Let me tell you I was one tired puppy when I pulled into the driveway in Rocky Point that evening, glad to be home and completely satisfied with what turned out to be a really great week.
Next up: an amazing kayak on Shoalwater Bay and camping at Eagle Ridge just ten miles from home!

Pinnacles

One hundred ninety five. Miles. That is the distance that the San Andreas Fault has slipped northwestward since the Pinnacles Volcanoes were formed between 20 and 30 million years ago. What I found so incredibly fascinating about this place is that it was once just a simple stratovolcano, very similar to Mt St Helens before she blew.

It erupted and exploded and flowed and rumbled for a few million years before going silent. Then the Farallon plate that was diving below the American plate at last completely melted and finally stopped heating things up, and the Pacific Plate ran right up against the American Plate and instead of diving, it started sliding. The huge stratovolcano was literally split in two, while two thirds rode north on the Pacific Plate and the other third stayed behind on the American Plate.

Over time and many climate changes, the entire volcano was buried under eons of sediments then uplifted and eroded again to expose the multicolored hues of various versions of rhyolitic volcanic rock. The two thirds that forms the present day Pinnacles was uplifted more recently and is far more dramatic that the one third that has soft, old rounded landscapes, left behind 195 miles away somewhere in the vicinity of Lancaster.

We came to Pinnacles mainly to hike some of its many trails and stand on the top of what remains of the old volcanoes. We also came to possibly see the condors who are released here in a special breeding program attempting to bring them back from extinction. Of course, we also came for warm sunshine in March and spring wildflowers. We got most of what we came for, but this evening, after a bit of research, I am pretty sure our condor sightings were really just big, beautiful turkey vultures soaring over the High Peaks.

Waking to an absolutely gorgeous sunny morning at Coyote Lake, we drove less than five miles to Creature Comfort, a dog resort Mo found for Abby in nearby Gilroy. Mo was nervous about leaving her, worried that she might figure a way out, but once we arrived, the many tall chain link fences underlain with plywood barriers to stop the diggers eased her mind a bit. There were about 20 dogs running around all happy and of course they all had to come to the fence to greet the newcomer. Abby thought the world was ending of course, and we were reluctant to leave, but the woman caretaker said, “It is like kids in a day care, you just need to get out of here, and she will be fine”.

The trip south to Pinnacles was just a bit over 50 miles, but once past the small town of Hollister, it seemed we were wandering off into an unknown world. The green hills gave way to brown, even less rain here I guess, and there were a few huge estates and rolling acres of grapevines, surrounded by rangeland.

The Verizon signal gave out and the ATT bars disappeared and we were completely disconnected for the next two and a half days. We had decided not to make reservations, since we were coming mid week, and that worked out just fine, this time. In the future, we will probably make reservations since we learned later that this park can be completely full on weekends. You just never know. When we arrived, however, on a Wednesday afternoon, we had our choice of several of the electric only hookup sites in the main part of the RV park.

We settled in to a site with no reserved sign, and were told to come back after four to pay since there was no one capable of taking money at the visitor center. Interesting. There was a little store there as well, and I bought Fritos on the honor system, putting exact change in a brown envelope as instructed by the ranger at the desk..

The park was quiet, the sun was warm, there was lots of space between sites with many of them empty. Mo and I looked at each other and said, “Why not?”. We let Jeremy out to play, off leash. Sure enough, Jeremy was as great as I thought he would be, but it did help that there were no bushes or creeks for him to explore, just open space, and he hung around the motorhome sniffing and playing until he finally decided to go back inside on his own. It was nice to let him have that bit of freedom.

Mo and I studied the park maps, the trails, the geology folders, the small booklet that I bought (with exact change of course), and decided that our afternoon hike should be the three miles or so up to the reservoir beyond the Moses Caves. I had no desire to go through the caves, so we went around them and up some rather incredible stone stairs to the small dam built by the CCC and the reservoir. It seems we also neglected to plan for the fact that this was spring break week in this part of California.

There were lots of groups of kids in buses, and in the group tent sites, and on the trails. At the reservoir, we sat quietly with a small group of kids who were intently writing their reflections on “reflection” as they looked at the sky reflected in the water of the reservoir.Rather than retrace our steps, we took The Rim Trail which led up and back and around and down again to the parking area. Perfect 3 mile hike for a perfect afternoon. We knew we were saving the big one for the next day when we would have a full day to hike.

Returning to the campground, I went back to the visitor center to pay my fee, only to discover that our site was technically reserved and we would have to move. Seems as though whomever is responsible for putting out the reserved signs was letting down on the job. We took down the awning, tucked everything into the rig and moved across the way to a site we liked better anyway. It was lovely, with a huge live oak shading the picnic table and a perfect view of the mountain ridges to the south. We spent the evening entertained by turkey gobbles, quail calls and high clouds racing across the bright skies.

The next morning we packed up some tuna sandwiches and plenty of water to take on our planned six mile loop hike. There are several options in the park, but with only this day for hiking we thought it would be good to get to the High Peaks Trail. There are several ways to reach that trail, and we chose the Condor Trail, with an elevation of 1200 feet or so in 1.7 miles to the intersection. The morning was sunny but cool, perfect for hiking and the uphill climb seemed easy. The views were expansive and gorgeous, looking back over the park down to Bear Gulch where we started.

At the intersection with the High Peaks Trail, we walked south a bit to see the views, and then continued back north for the 2.7 miles down to the Bench Trail. During this time of week, there are no shuttles, so we stopped for lunch in the warm sunshine and rested our weary downhill legs. All four knees held up, but I was really glad for my hiking poles! It is a LOT of downhill with very few breaks. It was then another couple miles back to the parking area hiking along Bear Gulch, with more ups and downs than expected. Amazing how much more we felt those little elevation changes after several miles of hiking!

It was only mid afternoon when we returned, and we considered going back later to try a bit of the Old Pinnacles Trail. However, neither of us were really up for another six mile hike and on the map it appeared that it was almost 3 miles one way to see the Balconies Caves. Instead we decided to explore the campground a bit and discovered a huge complex of primitive campsites that could probably hold a small rig, but with no hookups, and every single one of them was reserved for the weekend, and many of those included Thursday night! We couldn’t imagine all those tent campers showing up, but we left before finding out on Friday morning.

When we reached Bear Gulch Visitor Center after our hiking loop, there was a grad student from South Carolina taking a survey of your park experience. It seems that the park is considering limiting access to large groups, perhaps limiting the number of people who can enter the trails at one time, and even requiring shuttle only entrance into the park area. We saw some illustrative posters of differing numbers of folks at different sites along the trail. I was incredibly surprised. We had the entire morning and hiked the entire trail without seeing any other hikers until the very end where we met a young couple from Costa Rica, just up from the Bench Trail. But at the parking lot there were suddenly screaming hordes of children, climbing over rocks, yelling, running up and down and generally doing what kids do on Spring Break. Maybe the High Peaks trail is too long for them and the Moses Cave Trail and the Reservoir are the goal of a spring break day. The other goal seems to be rock climbing, with several areas filled with young ones attempting their first ascents. We laughed as we overheard several children saying “not me” when asked who wanted to go first and then hearing the high voice of a young girl piping up with “I’ll go first!”

We were blessed with two days of perfectly gorgeous, coolish, sunny weather, an uncrowded campground, empty trails, wonderful hiking, lots of wildlife, and the possibility of seeing the endangered condor. We studied the maps again, read Merikay’s account of hiking the southern loop of the High Peaks trail and decided, Yes, we will come back to this park again in the springtime. We will avoid Spring Break Week, we will make a reservation in the campground, hopefully for number 91 again, and we will hike the rest of the trails that we didn’t have time to hike this time.

Yes, it is a bit out of the way, but it is a lovely place to spend a few days if you time it right. Kinda nice being off the grid entirely.

We found the sunshine on the Spring Equinox

There is a certain color of green in the California coastal range that comes after the winter rains. Sometimes when the sunlight pours over the hills, that green can be so intense it feels as though it expands your vision into something psychedelic. The timing has to be just right, and this year is a dry year so that neon green is a bit less dramatic, but still there if you look at just the right moment.

Our moment was during a late afternoon hike to the Coyote Ridge Trail in Coyote Lake County Park, high above the hills of the Santa Clara Valley. After waking to rain in Garberville, driving through rain as far south as Santa Rosa, negotiating huge lines of cars buying gas for 4.15 a gallon at Costco, and transiting the Bay Area freeways, we were happy to find our little park in the hills just a bit north of Gilroy off Highway 101.

We found this one using Streets and Trips, researched it a bit, and made the decision that it would be a good overnight stop on our way to Pinnacles. Just a few miles east of the freeway, the park could be in another world entirely. Rising from the valley, we drove a very narrow, winding road to the park entrance, and then after a couple of serious switchbacks, dropped down to the broad but small valley that is the home to Coyote Lake.

The campground is lovely at this time of year. I can imagine that the summer heat might be daunting, but right now the temperatures were a perfect 70 degrees when we arrived in late afternoon. A large herd of resident deer wanders around the lush grassy site, and even now after dark I can hear the turkeys gobbling.

I know it is mid week, but this park was completely empty when we arrived, and later this evening, one lone camper slipped in to a spot across the field from us. There are 18 sites with hookups, not cheap at $30 per night, but that includes a fee for the dump station we passed on the way in.

The strangest thing about this park is the strict rule regarding NO swimming in the lake. You can water ski, use jet skis, kayaks, motorboats, but you can’t swim. Makes no sense to me at all. Abby saw the water and got all excited so it was sad that we couldn’t take her down to the lake for a dip.

The best thing about this park are the trails. There are 28.5 miles of very nice trails, and we only managed to get out on 3 miles or so of the Coyote Ridge and Valley oak trail. All are dog friendly, with leashes required of course, but with no one else in the park, it seemed fine to let Abby run free. I did get a bit paranoid about the poison oak, but it wasn’t right on the trail in too many places, and hopefully we managed to keep Abby out of it.

We found amazing sunshine, and warm temperatures. All the driving, all the rain, all behind us. Sunshine ahead and I am sitting here after dark in capris and a tee shirt. Great way to celebrate the beautiful balance of light and dark that this Equinox day brings.

PS: As we packed up this morning, I learned some new things about the park. On summer weekends it is packed. During the week, however, there is almost always at least half of the hookup spaces available. In summer it is hot and dry and brown. The lake is kept at 55 percent of maximum because it is on the Calaveras Fault and they figure that the Anderson reservoir below Coyote Lake and above the Santa Clara Valley floodplain could hold the overflow in the event of dam breakage. There are only a couple of mountain lions about, covering 100 square miles each, not enough to keep down the deer population.

I had no bars for Verizon MiFi and no bars for the ATT cell phone and no television signals. I suppose someone with satellite would have had good open sky. I am now posting from Highway 101 as we head for Pinnacles, another place with no bars. We’ll be back in blogworld on Saturday. There isn’t a cloud in the sky and the prediction for today is in the 70’s. Yes!

It’s all good

Really, it is. But sometimes it is also funny. When we arrived in Brookings yesterday, we both had taste buds set on the perfect fish and chips at the funky little restaurant we found last fall. Of course, being a small town, and a funky little restaurant, you never know when they will actually be open. I had the bright idea, “Let’s run down to the harbor before we get the rig out of storage and make sure the Chetco Café is open today!” Smart idea. Mo went inside and got the hi ho from the help that they were open until 7 tonight.

Yesterday afternoon, in all that gorgeous sunshine, we ambled around town, checking on some of the different properties we have been eyeing, and then ambled right back down to the harbor for a mouth watering supper. Except…as we pulled up, at a few minutes before 5PM, the last car pulled out and a big CLOSED sign was on the door. Foiled again.

We then ambled nearby to another place touting fish and chips and thought we might give it a try. People inside laughing and eating, locked doors?! Oh. It is 5:01 on a Sunday in Brookings Harbor. We seem to repeat this story often when we come to Brookings in one form or another, but we didn’t give up and ended up at a place called the “onion grill” with a sign that said, Steaks, Seafood, and Chinese Food. Hmmm. Once inside we had our choice of an American or Chinese menu. Well, what can it say. It IS a small town. The fish and chips were adequate, the service was fine, the ambience was filled with many retired folks slipping in from afternoon services and they all seemed to know the very cheery and friendly Chinese lady running the shop.

I knew this day would probably be rainy, so wasn’t the least bit surprised to see clouds when I woke this morning. Time to drive south. A quick check of the weather confirmed what I already knew. Rain and more rain for every destination south. Ah well. We are cozy and we are on the road and we will have fun, rain or shine. The Weatherunderground cheered me up considerably when I saw that in that moment it was exactly 14 degrees in Klamath Falls. Good to be where the chill is in the 40’s not the teens. Did someone say it is March?

We had a perfect plan. I would drive the Tracker to the quilt shop while Mo took the MoHo on down the road somewhere for us to meet after my shopping spree and hook up. Perfect. Forty five minutes later I left the shop with a large bag of goodies and went off to find Mo and the MoHo. Pulled in behind her to hook up and….hmmmm….no hitch? Seems as though Mo had left the hitch back at the perfect camp site, pretty as you please, thinking that maybe we might want to get into the back garage of the rig before morning. (Our hitch gets in the way of our drop down spare tire so we usually take it out when we are camped and want our campfire chairs)

So back we went again, one more time backtracking through town to Harris Beach. The park was quiet, nearly empty, and our hitch was sitting right where we left it the hour before. Any other time we would have hooked up right away, but not this time. Those hitch stingers aren’t cheap, so we were glad it was still there.

On a good note, the last time we put the rig in storage we made sure the tank was full. Rumors were already flying a month ago about rising gas prices and we did OK on that one. Filled her up at 3.73 per gallon and today the price at Freddie’s is 3.99. Of course, tomorrow when we fill up in California the cheapest price I have found so far on Gas Buddy is 4.49. I am wondering just how much this will dampen the travel plans of many of us out there. As happened before, it seemed that most RV’rs kept on driving, but ate out less and camped cheaper when possible. Giving up our freedom still isn’t an option. What would the price of gas have to be for you to stop driving? I still can’t answer that question for myself yet, hope I don’t have to.

It was a very gray and I hate to admit it, a rather boring day. Hence the rather boring photos. We drove south again on 101, along the ocean for a time, winding around the curvy, rough, landslide prone roads. We drove through the deep darkness of the redwoods on a cloudy, gray, cold day. Neither of us cared much for getting out of the rig and we just kept driving. We talked about all the sights we have seen on this road. We passed Big Lagoon, and Stone Lagoon, and some kayak launches. No kayaks on this trip and we were glad we didn’t have them since it is so cold and wet.

We passed our turn to the Lost Coast from the trip last year, we passed the turn to Loleta Cheese Company where we usually buy fabulous cheese, we drove on by the Eel River and the turn to Ferndale where we like to take photos of the Victorian buildings. All places we have enjoyed so much in the past, several times.

We thought that maybe we have driven this road too many times, and lamented that we have to drive too far now to get to anywhere we haven’t driven before. Then I remembered last year and how the only way we could get anywhere was to travel down I-5. Ugh. This is WAY more entertaining than driving down I-5. I knitted for awhile, I played with my pile of colorful fabrics, and in just a short 185 miles we turned into the Richardson Grove RV Park.

We learned the hard way last time that we need to stop this far north of the Bay Area to avoid getting trapped into a very expensive night in a not so comfortable park. Here the Passport America gets us a good nights rest for 16.50, full hookups, no cable. Mo found to her dismay that the electric cable to the Tracker had come undone and was all mangled. Who knows how long we drove without lights. We piled into the car for the 7 mile trip back to Garberville with hopes of finding some place to buy the part. Now I would imagine that at times, Garberville could be kind of cute, but cute doesn’t exactly equate to a part for a Toad. Lucky for us, however, Napa auto parts was in town, was still open, and had the part. Back to camp in the rain, winding through the truly gorgeous Richardson Grove, I wished for more light and a camera, and no rain, so we could maybe stop and wander. I am from Oregon, I should know how to hike in the rain and love it, right? Not.

Once back home, I put the bbq out on the wet picnic table and let the raindrops sizzle on the top as it got hot. I have to say that dinner was amazing. I bbq’d the chicken breasts with olive oil and garlic, and topped them off with a drizzle of the habanero pineapple jam, cut up some leaf lettuce and a tomato and topped that off with the award winning Rogue Blue Cheese and some 18 year old pomegranate balsamic vinegar, split half a baked potato from the microwave with Mo and settled down with our cute plastic wine glasses from the festival and we had ourselves a feast.

Tomorrow we will leave early in the rain, navigate the Bay Area and finally arrive somewhere new tomorrow evening. I think I saw a lone group of poppies today, all closed up in the rain, but they gave me hope for the drive south. The grass is getting greener, and I see hints of bursting spring leaves on the lower shrubs and on a few of the willows along the creeks. There are daffodils here and there along the road. When I think it may have been a bit of a boring day, I just have to go look at the photos of the snow at home.

Don’t believe everything you read on the Internet

Seems as though time just slides by beautifully when winter slips in. This was a work week for me, and the one day I had to drive to town to the “real” office was the day before the huge northwestern snow storm blew in. Lucky me! The rest of the week I worked at home, snug as can be in my little office with the wood stove cranked up high and the cat snuggled in next to me in his bed. Mo plowed a few times, I shoveled and ran the snow blower, and we hauled half a cord of wood to the porch, but the storm didn’t cause us a bit of trouble.

I am working on a rocky soil problem, and my head is filled with stones, cobbles, boulders, and gravels of all sizes. Each of these has a specific size and description of course, and eventually I will get it all sorted out and plugged into all those nice little NASIS fields and someday someone will request some interpretations for the Knot Tableland and out will pop a nifty little report, generated specifically for their area of interest from the data we gather, refine, and populate.

As I sit in the office fiddling with numbers, my mind wanders back to 2004 and 2005 when I was mapping out on the Knot Tableland, and dug a ton of holes in those stones, cobbles, and gravels and described those soils. It was hot and dry, and most of the time I was alone. That is the way we work in soil survey more often than not.

So this week, my mind has been split between recalling those memories as I look at my old descriptions, and talking on the phone with the project leader in Klamath till my ear was sore. ( I gotta get another ear piece!) We resolved the issues, and on this Saturday night, two more soils are written, cleaned up, and put to bed in NASIS.

Then, right in the midst of the worst of the windy snow, I got a call from my daughter Deanna saying that she and her husband were coming down the five and did we want to meet them for a short visit before they chained up to go over the Siskiyous. Wow! Deanna and Keith have their own truck and haul jet engines all over the country, but they haven’t been down this way in at least two years. I don’t get to see my daughter very often, so Mo agreed to drive, whiteouts or not, and we headed over the pass to Medford.

We had a great visit at Shari’s, next to the big Pilot truck stop where they could park the rig. I even remembered to bring the sweater I am working on for Deanna to check the fit. It was perfect and she likes the colors. I still can hardly believe this little girl of mine drives that great big truck.

Somehow, in the midst of everything else, remembering the last days of our trip home from the desert up the California coast just slid right by with an occasional thought, “Oh yeah, that!”. So here is the promised “rest of the story”.

When we left Vandenberg, there was a bit of fog hanging around making the hills look mysterious and mystical. The route led through Pismo Beach, a beautiful place to spend some time, but since it was only 9:30 in the morning when we arrived and still quite foggy and chilly, we decided to continue on to San Luis Obispo. First I had to check out the local quilt shop, and with early morning traffic in the small town almost non-existent, we had no trouble parking the MoHo right in front of the store. I browsed through the windows, but decided that waiting another 90 minutes for them to open was silly and we continued on toward breakfast.

Our route home from Vandenberg AFB could have been simply a run up the 101, but why do simple when challenging is an option. We instead decided that we were up for the winding beauty of California’s scenic coast highway 1. Listed in many places as one of the most beautiful drives in the world. Why in the world would we miss the chance to crawl along the steep cliffs overlooking the Pacific Ocean in a motorhome towing a car.

One of my favorite restaurants along this part of the coast the the Apple Farm in San Luis. We were seated in the beautiful glassed in gazebo with brilliant sun shining in the windows framing the lovely hills surrounding us. As usual, breakfast was scrumptious, with home fries and “California Scramble” which included lots of spinach, artichokes, olives and other California stuff. I really appreciate my California upbringing and being exposed to things like artichokes, avocados, and olives as everyday food. I grew up eating lots of fresh stuff from the lush gardens and orchards where we lived that are now just pavement.

We continued north to Morro Bay and our last chance to hightail it back over to the simpler route along 101. The sun was out, the skies were clear, and when we saw the sign saying it was only another 135 miles to Monterey we decided to go for it. It was a great drive. Winding and a bit challenging at times, but nothing too difficult. The only thing about this road that is bothersome is the lack of places to pull over and actually spend time. I was in the passenger seat, and the skies were a just a little bit murky from the morning fog, so my photos aren’t that great. Of course, with the proliferation of digital photography and google search, there are at least a bazillion photos of every single stretch of this beautifully amazing stretch of road. I even have some from other trips we have taken, so I wasn’t too concerned about missing out. In fact, it was nice just being able to do the white knuckle thing now and then without worrying about photography.

Our evening destination was the Military Family Camp at Monterey Pines RV Park and Golf Course. This camp is on the grounds of the Monterey Naval Postgraduate School. We called ahead for a reservation, because even at $30 a night, that was cheap for anything else around that part of California. It was good that we did, because the camp was nearly full. Our rig is technically 26 feet long, and that is what I answer when asked when making a reservation. We were given a nice pull through site on the phone, but when we arrived we were told she had moved us to space 22. I think it was the shortest, tightest space in the park, and a big 40 footer was in our originally assigned space. After crawling around slippery ice plant to try to hook up, and struggling to get level, we decided that in the future we should say we are 30 feet long so we won’t get relegated to the worst sites in the camp!

The campground is adjacent to a beautiful golf course, but the camp itself is really crowded and tight, and is backed up directly to the airport and hangars. Loud noise for much of the night, and the occasional bomb going off now and then made things interesting. We settled in, and decided to try to find a grocery store. Safeway was only 1.5 miles away, but my gosh, the traffic was horrendous! One of those things I forget about California until I get back there. We were glad for a nights rest and hookups, but might not try to come back to this one unless absolutely necessary. There aren’t any Passport America parks anywhere in the vicinity, though, so it was good for a night.

The next day we decided to do another 250 mile run and spent some time searching around Streets and Trips, CampWhere, and AllStays for a place to spend the night. We considered trying to get as far as Trinidad and the free casino, but then found a beautiful little park right on the 101 just north of Willits. Creekside Cabins and RV Resort looked really great on the internet. I tried calling to verify the Passport America Park status, but no one answered so I left a message. After driving through the Bay Area, we were ready for a nice night in a quiet place.

Winding down into a damp, dark canyon, we felt a bit of consternation, but thought maybe the park would be OK. The turn in came up suddenly and we pulled into the driveway only to discover a huge iron gate, tightly closed. It was dark and spooky there, even in the afternoon, but I got out and rang the bell. No answer. We were in a pickle because the rig was cocked at a weird angle and there was no way we would get the car unhooked and we couldn’t back up or turn around. I finally walked into the park and realized that this place might not be the best place to be. There were really old rigs with blue tarps, big dogs with spike collars, strange looking people, and a LOT of junk.

I finally flagged down a somewhat “high” dude and asked him if he could open the gate to let us come in and turn around. He was hemming and hawing but then the camp host appeared, another strange looking woman with wild hair and a gazillion tats and piercings, and said we could come in and look around. One of the reasons we wanted the park was to see some TV that night, Mo was looking forward to one of the debates, and when this woman said, “Yeah we have maybe 6 channels”, we decided boondocking was a far better choice and we managed to get turned around and outta there! Whew!

It was getting late and dark but we got back on the highway thinking we could find a casino, or a pull out or something. I had no cell phone signal, but unbelievably there was still a Verizon signal on the MiFi and I found a park about 40 miles farther up the road. We pulled into Richardson Grove RV Park a little bit later, settling in just before dark and hard rain started falling. We thought we had it handled when we left Monterey. I used all the tools available, found a Passport America Park, used the MiFi and GPS to find it, and still ran into the unknown factor. We still laugh about just how much different that Creekside park looked in person than it looked on the nice internet web site. By the way, it was no longer a Passport America Park, either, and the fees would have been 40 bucks for one night if we had decided to stay.

We surely were glad to return home the next day to our beautiful, safe, cheap, gorgeous space A12 at Harris Beach State Park in Brookings. Ahh, home, or almost home. It was so good that we settled in for two nights and three days before packing up the Tracker, putting the MoHo to bed in the storage building, and traveling home to Rocky Point.