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.
I can’t really claim the snowbird moniker, but somehow it seems that every year we manage to make our way south. I think to be a snowbird, you might have to stay for the full winter season and only meander back north when the light and warmth return. Still, it is an incredible delight to slip away from all that cold stuff, the snow plowing, the crashing ice dams, the skating rink parking lot, and land gently back in the desert, with simply a light shirt on in the evening, and feet once again in sandals. Ahhh.
Mo and I met Laurie and Odel many years ago, when I was a brand new blogger and Laurie was one of the more well known bloggers in the newly minted rv bloggerland. Later, long after Laurie stopped blogging and they sold their beloved rig Scoopy, we stopped in for a visit to their digs and they took Mo and I to Nevada City and introduced us to their good friends Nickie and Jimmy. I love how these things work. As I am writing this, I am remembering just how we all met, and I had almost completely forgotten the details. 
Sometimes these kinds of friendships come and go, but in this case, they are the kind that will last a lifetime. When we get together, in fours or in sixes, it is always so much fun. This time was no different. Nickie and Jimmy invited Mo and I to dinner at their place in Nevada City. The food was fabulous, what Nickie called “comfort food”, but oh my such deliciousness!
Even better than the food, however, was the laughter. Nickie has this wondrous inner child that comes out to play a lot, and makes me laugh till my sides hurt. Mattie thought she was a kick as well, and the two of them slid around on the gorgeous hardwood floors until tiny Mattie knocked Nickie down, or at least that is what Nickie claimed. So sorry, Nickie!! I hope your bruises have healed.
The “Big Plan” was for the six of us to meet the next day in Auburn for some yummy food, and then hike it all off with a great walk along the river and the waterfalls. The only waterfalls were coming out of the skies, with big dark rain keeping us all inside. Instead of hiking, the six of us sat together at a big round table at Awful Annie’s and ate and talked and ate some more. It was great fun being together again. We have hiked with Laurie and Odel, and with Jimmy and Nickie, but so far haven’t managed a hike with all of us. That is on the agenda for sure. What a fun bunch of people to know. I feel so lucky. 
Mattie made friends all around, but especially with Odel. Did she ever love that guy! I wish I had taken a photo of her looking at him with adoring eyes as he scratched her ears. Mattie knows a good man when she sees one!
Beale Air Force Base is just east of the I-5 corridor and Marysville, and only 34 miles west of Nevada City, the sweet little mountain town where Nickie and Jimmy live. We decided to give the FamCamp a try and it isn’t a bad stop. The campground is fairly isolated on the base, with long open views toward the east. I was surprised at how full they were, and we were glad to have made a reservation. $18.00 per night with full hookups isn’t bad, although the sites were muddy from all the recent El Nino rains. Still, the gravel pad was level enough we didn’t have to put down the levelers, the power was adequate, and there was WiFi available, but I didn’t try it. My Verizon worked fine on the iPad, and I had no time or need to set up the computers or the MiFi.
On the way to the campground, we saw an amazing airplane flying low and slow, circling above us. I love that about staying at an air force base, lots of cool airplanes. Found out later this was a U-2 plane, and that the woman pilot who flies them at Beale AFB is quite famous.
Once the battery was replaced and we were traveling down the 5, everything seemed to settle into place. I think it takes a few hundred miles before it reallly feels like we are on the road, and that great feeling hit yesterday somewhere along the hills on the western side of the San Jouquin Valley. Evidence of the drought has lessened a bit, with recent rains turning everything green. Big signs are dotted among the fruit and nut orchards: “If water is used to grow food, is it really wasted?” I found myself wondering about this a lot. California is having huge water issues, with too many people wanting too little water. If that water is used to let people in the valley have drinking water, which many of them don’t right now, isn’t that better perhaps than it being used to grow nuts for export? Who benefits from that besides the farmer, certainly not the people who actually need food or water in California. Lots to think about as you roll down that lonely but crowded asphalt ribbon along the hills bordering the Great Valley that grows a huge percentage of our food.
We spent the night last night at the Orange Grove RV Resort just east of Bakersfield on Highway 58. I think most every RV heading toward the desert must stay here at one time or another. It was raining this morning when we got up, but the mist let up in time for us to get the MoHo washed at the free RV wash at the park. Of course, there are the free for the picking oranges, sweetest ever, and this year the crop is especially sweet. Add to that free coffee and free truly fresh and excellent donuts for the taking and staying there is a pretty good deal at $39.00 per night. A good wash of our two rigs usually costs us at least $15.00 in quarters if we do it at a car wash. And the oranges are priceless! I just hope I have enough to last until we return by way of Orange Grove RV Park. I need to stock up again before I get back to the land of grocery store oranges. Ick!
We stopped for lunch somewhere along Highway 58 before Barstow, where Mattie got her first taste of desert air and we opened up the slide and let the sunshine pour in while we made a nice lunch and took a bit of a break. Mo drove the rest of the route, one of our favorites, from Barstow, down Highway 247, winding through the mountains down toward Yucca Valley and then down the big grade to Desert Hot Springs.
Every time we come here, I am reminded of the wild, craggy, rocky, mountainous land that makes up this part of Southern California. It is so incredibly rugged, twisted and tortured by all the tectonic activity, all the faults that folded and uplifted and shattered the landscape. The desert here is anything but flat and boring, it is a wild world and so beautiful.
The MoHo and Other Traveling Tales 
