Oregon – The MoHo and Other Traveling Tales

03-08-2023 The Last Leg and More Adjustments

When the morning arrived for our departure from Bayport RV Park on Scappoose Bay in Warren, Oregon, the skies were threatening, but there was no snow predicted for the route we chose.

Cornelius Pass is a decent route that passes by the main urban area of Portland to the west, crossing a low mountain as it approaches Highway 26 and continues south toward the upper portion of the Willamette Valley where we planned to spend two days in Dayton.

Google suggested route from Bayport to Dayton

I checked the webcams, read the Facebook Group for Cornelius Pass, and declared that we could take that route and avoid returning south via Highway 30 and Interstate 5. Even though Mo was driving, the roads required navigating to the extent that I didn’t have the opportunity to open the phone camera for photos. So I have no record of this trip.

The density of housing in parts of Aloha is surprising

We crossed Highway 26, the main route to the coast from the city. We were aghast at the wall-to-wall row houses and apartments that seemed to extend for miles around Hillsboro and Aloha on the western perimeter of the city of Portland.

Google is notorious for sometimes routing over impassable roads, and when I saw an extremely curvy road on the projected route I said, “No No! Keep going straight, that road is too curvy”. The alternate route I chose seemed to be a bit less curvy and hopefully, we could navigate a way to Dayton that would be a bit less challenging. All was well until we saw a sign for an 18 percent grade ahead. Eighteen Percent??!! I think the steepest sign we have ever seen was 16 percent on the road into Calistoga in California.

We kept on going, and climbed a narrow road into some steep hills (which felt like mountains) to an elevation of 2,000 feet or so, with fairly deep snow on either side of the road. In one short section, within a distance of no more than 2 miles, we saw 4 newish SUV-type vehicles smashed into trees and telephone poles, some appeared to be climbing the poles. So much for avoiding the curvy roads. And no, I don’t have a single photo of this experience. Somehow I had no clue that the Willamette VALLEY had steep curvy snowy mountains here and there on the perimeter.

Looking south toward Dayton from the hills

We breathed a sigh of relief as we entered the actual valley toward the community of Dayton and our reservations at the Dayton RV Park. Searching Google again for the actual address of the park, I was redirected to several other RV parks, but no Dayton RV Park. I dug out the reservation papers, which also had no address for the park, then went to the park website and discovered that there was no address listed there either. Finally in the small print somewhere I found the phone number of the RV park and called.

A sweet lady answered the phone and gladly offered the address, yada yada yada…Dayton, Nevada. NEVADA?

It seems we somehow made a reservation in Dayton, Nevada instead of Dayton, Oregon. I would expect that an RVr who has traveled for any length of time has had a similar experience. Now what?

I started calling around, and after a few parks with no openings, found one for 80 bucks a night, with this caveat, “Oh, by the way, we have some construction going on but the framers don’t get loud until after 9am.”. Thanks anyway, but no thanks. This kind lady pointed me to the nearby state park suggesting they might have an opening on a rainy, out of season, Monday night.

We found Champoeg (pronounced Shampooey) State Park on the map and headed east, hoping for an opening, or at least a spot in a handicap site. That little blue card has saved us more than once in full parks at the last minute.

Arriving at Champoeg, we saw the dreaded “Campground Full” sign, but continued in, hoping for a cancellation or an ADA site. Found a ranger who checked and then sadly confirmed that there was no available space anywhere in the park for us, but said we could stay awhile until we could search for an alternative.

Mo and I settled in for lunch, and about 20 minutes later the ranger returned, saying her boss ranger had found us a site and had to wait a few minutes to be sure that the cancellation was real. Sure enough, it was, and we were directed to a full hookup site 34 in the B Loop, with the added benefit of that site being open for us for the two nights we hoped to stay.

Champoeg State Park was a perfect location for a home base as we visited the area around Dayton. During her research, Mo learned that the Dayton area was well known for a large number of excellent wineries. We thought it might be fun to sample the famous Pinot Noir grapes of this part of the Willamette Valley much as we dove into sampling the Old Vine Zinfandels in Lodi, California.

Mo also discovered a well-known four-star restaurant located in Dayton that we thought might be a fitting end to her birthday trip. As we settled in for the rest of the afternoon, I took advantage of the very slow internet signal on the phone to research a few wineries and the famous Joel Palmer House restaurant. There were so many wineries to choose from but most of them required a reservation or wouldn’t be open when we were planning to visit. We settled on a plan to visit the Stoller Family Estate, open for tastings on Tuesdays without a reservation.

We then checked for possible reservations at the Joel Palmer House and when we saw that dinner there was fixed at $375 per person, decided we didn’t need to visit this 4-star restaurant, no matter how good it was.

Bike Trail adjacent to Champoeg State Park and the Willamette River

We spent some of the rest of the afternoon enjoying a walk along the beautiful bike trail adjacent to the Willamette River which borders the park. With the cloudy chill outside it was nice to return to the MoHo for the evening. It had been a crazy kind of day that ended quite well.

The next morning dawned beautifully, with sunshine and puffy white clouds in the sky. We took Mattie for another long walk through the park and along the river. The bike trail continues for a few miles in either direction, with the destination toward the east about two miles being Butteville General Store.

We decided that it would be best to leave Mattie settled in at home while we drove to explore the surrounding area before traveling to the winery.

Lots of informative signs around the park

Champoeg State Park is beautiful, but I was most impressed with the Visitor Center. Meandering through the stunning exhibits taught us about the history of the town of Champoeg, completely flooded and destroyed in 1861, rebuilt and flooded again in the late 1800s.

Inside the beautiful visitor center at Champoeg State Park

The exhibits taught not only the history of the area, but also the history of Oregon statehood, and the people who supported it and who were against it. I learned much that I didn’t know about Oregon as we walked through the center.

Surprised at how little I knew of Oregon state hisotry

In addition to human history, there was much on the natural history of the area, including the plants, the geology, and the animals that make the park their home.

There were sound recordings that accompanied this map

Native American history was covered as well, with an especially interesting map of the various dialects of languages that were used throughout Oregon. So much to learn. I think we spent at least an hour exploring the Visitor Center. There is a museum nearby that has more exhibits about the pioneer history of the area, but it wasn’t open yet for the season.

Save this for a warmer day and the famous ice cream

After visiting the center, we drove a couple of miles east to check out the Butteville Country Store. We originally thought maybe ice cream was in order, but it was early in the day and it was chilly so we weren’t tempted. I took a photo of the store from the outside, thinking maybe a hot summer day would make it more inviting.

Family owned since 1943 and a vineyard since 1993

Continuing toward Dayton, we found the Stoller Estate Winery on beautiful hills overlooking the valley. The tasting room was gorgeous, and the proprietor was informative and welcoming. There were only a few people who came and went while we were there, so it was uncrowded.

Beautiful view from the tasting room at Stoller Vineyard

We chose a wine flight for me, a glass of red blend for Mo, and a lovely sandwich for two. The sandwich was delightful, with ham and turkey, arugula lettuce, gouda cheese, and a yummy aioli on perfectly baked bread.

The wines ranged from some lighter rosé to some lovely Pinot Noir wines. The rosé made from their pinot grapes was the driest rosé I have ever tried, but delicious. We settled on a bottle of Pinot to take home, deciding that we needed something to commemorate our visit.

The vineyard was beautiful, with spectacular views in all directions, and made for some lovely photo opportunities with the huge puffy clouds that signaled rain to come.

On the way home, we stopped for an outside visit to the famous restaurant in Dayton. I walked up to the imposing door, and the people inside were gracious and let me look inside. What kind of restaurant is really worth $375 a plate? It was beautiful and historic, and the chef was really kinda cute.

I doubt if we would ever return to eat there, especially since they are famous for using all kinds of locally sourced mushrooms in the dishes. Mo isn’t a fan of mushrooms.

Heavy rain accompanied our late afternoon return to the MoHo, and we were treated to a few rainbows as well. Mattie was happy to see us, and Mo braved the rain to take her for another walk.

rain and rainbows on the way back to the MoHo

We planned to return home on Wednesday morning, via Interstate 5 to Grants Pass. I checked weather cams, weather apps, road cams, and everything I could to attempt to find a window of opportunity to get from this part of the state to our home a couple of hundred miles south in Southern Oregon. I saw that snow was predicted for our campsite, and before going to bed we put in the slide to avoid any possible snow accumulation on the slide cover.

Sure enough, when we woke on Wednesday, it was snowing, with a bit of accumulation on the grass, but the roads were merely wet. I checked the weather and road conditions again, and we had a short travel window opening up on Interstate 5 between Roseburg and Grants Pass during the early afternoon.

Timing our departure in a way that would allow for a stopover at daughter Melody’s home in Brownsville near the interstate, we left by 10 AM. On days like this one, we are exceptionally glad that we have an RV sewer dump at home. There was no need to get out in the snow and use the sewer connection we had at our site.

The trip home was surprisingly uneventful. Mattie adores Melody, and as usual, as we approached Melody’s home, she started yipping and singing and wiggling ecstatically. Our visit was short but sweet, and I loved seeing some of the home projects that Melody and Robert have been doing with their 110-year-old house.

By the time we reached the four highest passes between Roseburg and Grants Pass, the road was clear, with no ice, no snow, and no rain. We pulled into the driveway at 4:30 PM with a sigh of relief. Home looked great, and the house was warm and welcoming thanks to the ability to program the heater for the end of vacation mode earlier in the day.

Sue and Mo happy walking the trail on the last day of the trip

Despite the challenges, the weather, and the shifting plans, Mo’s birthday trip turned out to be a complete success.

04-30-2022 A Sweet April Part 2

Yes, I know, I have yet to write part 1 about April, but when the writer’s block sets in, the only way for me to get started is to begin here and now. This time it isn’t even here and now. It has been more than a week since we returned from our late April foray in the MoHo. I decided last week that instead of trying to remember the entire month of April, I would just write about our most recent trip. Beautiful April memories are lost in a mental mist of rain, sun, snow, and home stuff. I will catch up eventually, but maybe not just yet. It is always easier to write about travels that are different from everyday life.

Our April MoHo trip happened quite late in the month. For a time now, I have tried to get reservations at Silver Falls State Park to no avail. Everything has been booked solid for weeks, and I often checked for cancellations and finally gave up. Mo is the one that will usually follow through on the commitment for a MoHo trip every month, and one morning she said to me, “How about if we go to Silverton and stay at that RV Park that we visited a few years ago?”. Great idea, Mo. She comes up with the ideas, and I follow through with the maps, plans, and reservations.

We have visited Silverton in the past, but searching the memory banks of photos and blog posts, I discovered that it has been ten years since we camped at Silver Spur RV Park. The website was well done, and I made reservations quickly for three nights at the end of the month. Mo did her research and came up with several things for us to do while in the area. We knew that it might be raining for a couple of days, but we could do most of what we wanted to do despite the rainy weather.

Leaving mid-morning on Monday so that we wouldn’t arrive before the 2PM check-in time was a bit challenging. We are used to getting out early, and both of us were at a bit of a loss about how to kill time until our ten AM departure. Almost everything is ready to go pretty quickly with the MoHo loaded and ready the day before.

Premium Site C33 at Silver Spur RV Park

Even with the accompanying rain, the short 200-mile drive to Silverton was easy. When we arrived, I barely recognized the RV park. It has grown considerably in the last ten years. The park owner was training a new person when we arrived, so check-in was slow. When we drove to our site, there was no place to park the car, and it was in between two other rigs, with no apparent picnic table. I went back to the office to try to figure out why. The neighbors had parked their car in our spot. The site seemed quite crowded, and there were several completely empty rows in the park. I asked for a change. When I asked to be moved, the owner said nothing was available because he was booked solid. I also asked about the advertised fire pits and was told they were only in the “premium site.” Surprisingly, he did have a premium site available for an additional $5 per night. We were happy to pay the difference and moved to the new site. The owner couldn’t print a bill for me, so he sent me an email for an extra $35. Um….what?? When I called him, we had a somewhat convoluted conversation about how 5 bucks a night turned into $35 bucks, with him insisting that is what the computer spit out. Eventually, it was settled, and I only paid $15 extra to park in a lovely spot.

When I asked about other premium sites, the designation was somewhat arbitrary, with some having different configurations of amenities, and fire pits aren’t part of all of them. When I asked if he could clarify this on the booking site online, he said that was impossible. He also said we paid less by booking online. Really? So the only way to secure a premium site with a firepit is to call directly and then pay more for the site? It was all quite convoluted, and when we return, I will make a phone call and try to get things clarified before booking my location. Word to the Wise here if you plan to travel to Silverton. Silver Spur RV Park is the only RV park nearby.

We love Silverton. The town has a colorful history with beautifully preserved historic buildings, a medley of boutique galleries, antique shops, creekside restaurants and cafes, and plenty of places to sample craft beer and regional wines. Since 1992, the Silverton Mural Society has added an extra splash of art with 27 murals gracing the town.
Silver Falls is nearby, just 15 miles south on a decent two-lane highway. Even though we couldn’t camp at Silver Falls, staying in Silverton was terrific because there was so much to see and do nearby.

Our first night in camp was rainy, and a fire was out of the question. The night was dark and quiet, and the road and train noise that I remembered from our previous visit was no longer an issue. We were in a different section last time, closer to the highway, and the train tracks appear to be no longer in use.

The following morning we made our plans for the day based on Mo’s list of to-do’s. First on the agenda was a visit to the local Information Center, and I finally found the center, located at the Oregon Garden. We had visited the gardens before and didn’t plan to do so this time around. The $10 per person fee is OK, but neither of us cared to walk in the rain to view the gardens again, especially since there wasn’t a great deal in bloom. When we arrived, we discovered that the Visitor Center I had found on Google was only for the Oregon Garden, not the town of Silverton. We were pointed in the right direction toward downtown Silverton by the friendly people at the gardens.

The Visitor Center was a delight, with a lovely volunteer who knew a great deal about the town’s history and was very helpful. The second item on our agenda was to visit the local Railroad Museum. However, our friendly visitor center lady told us it was only open at the end of the week. Except she said the volunteers were at the building today and might let us in if asked. That didn’t sound like something we wanted to do, so instead, we were happy simply taking photos of the building.

Third on the agenda was a visit to the local historic park, Coolidge-McLain City Park. When we walked back to the car to pull out google maps to navigate to the park, I looked across the lot to discover it was right behind the visitor center! We walked toward the pathways at the exact moment that a large van deposited a rather large group of 3 and 4-year-olds with their caretakers. The little kids were all excited, yelling and playing and jumping all over the place. We thought that might be a bit much for Mattie and took an alternate path along Silver Creek to get to the park.

The rhododendrons and azaleas were in bloom, the grass was green, and the Silver River rushed over the low cement dam. We walked the trails a bit, found a lovely memorial fountain, and I thought about how nice it would be to picnic in that park on a hot summer day.

Next on our agenda was to find Silver Reservoir. The reservoir is just a mile or so south of town, with a lovely day-use area for fishing and picnicking. We discovered a perfect kayak launch and decided it would be an excellent short-day kayak destination with nooks and crannies that made an attractive, complex shoreline.

By this time, I was ready for a good coffee. On our way through town, I noticed the Main Street Bistro and decided it was an excellent place to try. We parked right in front of the historic Wolf Building, which housed the bistro on the first floor. The weather shifted every moment, with clouds and rain and sunshine viewed through the old windows as we enjoyed our mid-day snack.

I had a coffee that couldn’t technically be called coffee and looked more like dessert. Mo had a delicious champagne cocktail that was not too sweet. We decided we could have a bit of lunch, and the clam chowder was as good as any we have enjoyed on the coast, and the gourmet grilled cheese sandwich was the best I ever ate, hands down. I have no idea why except it was perfect.

After lunch, we walked around a bit, checking out a mural and some of the old buildings. I especially loved the shop called “Apples and Oranges.” I have no idea what the name meant because it specialized in tea, yarn, and puzzles. What a delight. I found my favorite Malabrigo yarn and couldn’t resist buying three full hanks of the yummy stuff. Maybe that will inspire me to knit again, Janna!

The day was moving along perfectly. We returned to the MoHo for a bit of a rest before leaving to search for the Gallon House Covered Bridge, just north of town. Mo had this one on her to-do list before we realized that we had visited this same bridge on our extended MoHo covered bridge tour in 2012. Just a few minutes north of town, it was on a side route that led to our next destination, Mt Angel.

We had traveled through and beyond Mt Angel many times in this area but somehow never took the time to actually see Mt Angel. Just four miles north of Silverton, nestled among the hazelnut and hop fields, Mt Angel celebrates its roots with Bavarian thematic architecture and authentic German cuisine. The Mt Angel Oktoberfest held every year is a four-day celebration that is one of the biggest festivals in Oregon. Our friends Wes and Gayle, who now live in Arizona, told us we definitely need to visit this great festival.

We wanted to be in town for the tolling of the hour at the Glockenspiel. Mount Angel’s Glockenspiel celebrates the German-Swiss-Bavarian heritage of the village. The Glockenspiel plays at 11 a.m., and at 1, 4 and 7 p.m. daily. The clock is large and clearly visible; the bells are sharp and precise in their sound. However, the animated figures are the real traffic stoppers.

The rain came and went, and we took shelter underneath the awning of a building across the street to wait for the chimes. The best part was when a mother with her two young children came to stand underneath the clock so that her little boy could delight in the moving figures that danced in and out of the windows in time to the music. She told us they lived in Silverton but were close by when her little one begged to come and watch the clock.

View from the Benedictine Monastery on Mt Angel where on a sunny day Mt Hood looms in the distance

Mt Angel is also the home of the Mount Angel Abbey and the Benedictine Monastery, where the church tower bells chime for the call to prayer several times a day. We knew that the library and museum would be closed by the time we got to the grounds, but we still thought it would be lovely to walk the abbey pathways. As would be expected, all was very quiet and serene, with only a few men walking in pairs and conversing quietly. I did find a young man in black secular clothing to ask whether we could walk with the dog on the grounds, and he was very accommodating.

Another man in black robes explained to us that there were monks, priests, and seminarians all reside at the Abbey. I did a bit of research and finally figured out the difference. At Mt Angel Abbey, all the members are monks, but only some are ordained priests. A brother-monk is called “Brother,” and a priest-monk is called “Father.” Priests administer to the community, and monks who are not ordained do not. Totally confusing to me, but I have a better idea now than I did before we visited.

We sat on iron benches to the sanctuary’s west to wait for the 5:15 bells. The eight bells in the Abbey are cast in bronze, weighing between 407 to over 8,000 pounds, and are tuned to different scale notes in honor of various saints. As we waited for the bells to ring, we looked into the sanctuary where the monks would gather for vespers. The church was simple but lovely as the sun shone in the southern windows illuminating a small side chapel.

The bells began to ring just as the sun broke through the western sky, lighting up the warm colored stone against the dark storm clouds to the east of the bluff where the Abbey is located. It was a dramatic moment and definitely worth the wait.

We drove back to the RV park and settled in for a quiet evening. I was a bit overwhelmed at all we had seen in just one day. The rain stayed away long enough that Mo built a fire for us, and we sat outside after supper. I was glad that we managed to use that premium fire pit! As you can see in the above photo, there are a considerable number of sites in this park that are used for long term extended stays. I read recently that many RV parks are becoming de facto mobile home parks. Adequate and available housing seems to be an issue everywhere.

Our next day was much easier but no less beautiful. We waited until the rain clouds cleared a bit before heading back into Silverton to explore some of the murals. There are maps available at the visitor center, but some aren’t particularly easy to understand, with exploding lines going in all directions. Our visitor center volunteer told us about the Red Sox mural in a part of town that isn’t easily seen from the main roads. We found the Red Sox mural and marveled at the character shown in the faces of the ballplayers. Johnny Pesky, whose Boston Red Sox career spanned nearly 60 years, was from Silverton. The Silverton Red Sox team was sponsored by the Silver Falls Timber Company during the 1930s. The mill was owned by Tom Yawkey, who also owned the Boston Red Sox. Pesky stuck with the Red Sox for life.

Our friendly volunteer also told us about the remarkable mural in town for Bobbie, one of the most famous citizens of Silverton. We walked by the mural the previous day and somehow missed it. Instead of being painted on a building, it is a long, low mural painted on a wall parallel to the sidewalk. Bobbie, The Wonder Dog, belonged to the Brazier of Silverton. On vacation to Indiana, where Bobbie was riding on the back of their car, he was attacked by some “curs” and ran off. After many hours, his owners finally gave up the search, sick at heart. Six months later, Bobbie appeared in Silverton after traveling more than 2,800 miles to find his beloved home and family. It was impossible to stitch together the dozen photos I took to capture the full length of this mural.

There are 27 murals in Silverton, and we didn’t manage to see them all on this trip

We had other plans for the rest of the day. We drove 15 miles south to Silver Falls State Park for our next item on Mo’s list. The Trail of Ten Falls is beautiful and has more than 8 miles of up and down hiking. We have hiked those trails in the past, but this time our goal was to take the short path down to the base of South Falls, where it meanders under the cliffs and behind the falls. On this trip, I was content for a single hike thanks to wonderful memories of a previous trip to Silver Falls State Park in 2010.

Visiting Silver Falls State Park Here is a link to our trip when we camped in the park and hiked to all the waterfalls. Even I had fun looking back at this blog post with tons of photos of waterfalls and hiking with my daughter, and oh my, my days when I was still a redhead!

When we began our walk, the parking lot wasn’t terribly full. Not surprising on this rainy, cloudy mid-week day. It was cool enough to safely leave Mattie in the car while we hiked since dogs aren’t allowed on the trails.

By the time we reached that area behind the falls, there were quite a few hikers laughing and ducking and getting wet from the overspray from the waterfall. It isn’t a challenging hike but a bit slippery and somewhat steep in places.

It was a test for me, and I passed. 2 years since the diagnosis of IBM for me, and so far, I am still managing to get around, and progression is slow enough that I can barely notice much difference over the months in my mobility. Silver Falls made me cry. It was so beautiful, and I was so incredibly grateful that I managed to hike the trail once more, even though it was a short one.

We only spent an hour on the trail, but by the time we got back to the top, we were wet and chilled from the dampness and overspray.

The South Falls Lodge at Silver Falls State Park was built in 1940 and 1941 and is a stunning example of magnificent craftsmanship by the Civilian Conservation Corps. The restaurant and dining room were open, and with only one other small family inside, we had the big Mission style leather sofa and chair in front of the hot crackling fireplace all to ourselves. Once again, we had good coffees and shared a delicious pastry. It was a perfect way to take off the chill and rest our bones.

We left the lodge area and drove down to the campground to check and see how full it was. Driving through the loop, only one site was available, an ADA site, for one night only. Everything else was either full or reserved. As we continued around the loop, it became clear why there was so little available. There is only one loop open in the campground, with all the others closed until after Memorial Day. Now I get it. As we left the park, we talked about how camping at Silver Falls State Park is a pleasant experience, but recreation in the park is limited to hiking the waterfall trails or biking the back trails. We have done both in the past but probably wouldn’t want to spend a lot of time at the park again if we can’t actually do all that hiking and biking. I think some of the trails would accommodate electric bikes, but they aren’t allowed on all the trails. For us, visiting Silver Falls State Park on a day trip from our site near Silverton was perfect.

We returned to the RV park again for a bit of a rest before driving north from Silverton to get a quick view of the Wooden Shoe Tulip Farm. We knew that the tulips were still blooming but didn’t want to brave the crowds to go on the property again to walk among the tulips, and I hoped we could see them from the road. We visited the farm during full bloom on a previous trip to Silverton and knew how beautiful it could be. Here is a link to a LOT of my photos from that trip. Magnificent Tulips at the Wooden Shoe Tulip Festival

Sure enough, by the time we got there, the lines of cars were quite long, even an hour before it was set to close. I caught a couple of photos, and we continued north toward Molalla for the last item on our list.

Mo’s brother and wife, Chere, live just 20 minutes or so from Molalla, less than half an hour north of Silverton. It was a perfect spot for us to get together for supper at Don Taco’s Mexican restaurant. I somehow completely forgot to take photos of our time together, which shows how much fun we had visiting and eating a delicious meal.

By the time we got back to the park, we both were impressed with ourselves for all we had managed to do in just two days. Still, there was plenty of firewood left for another fire, and the rain had dissipated for the evening. We ended our little mini-vacation with another big campfire. I would imagine all those folks in the non-premium sites might have been a little bit jealous.

Here is a map of our meanderings for our time near Silverton.

07-12-2021 Camping in a Caldera at East Lake Part 1

When we returned from our little day trip kayak, I realized that half the month was nearly over. If we were to keep our personal commitment to taking the MoHo out at least once every month, I needed to find a someplace to camp. With so many people on the road, it is necessary to have a reservation at just about any campground within driving distance. I am sure there are places to camp along a creek somewhere, or in the mountains and in the forest without a reservation. For us, however, a lake with good kayaking is top on our list for summer camping.

I started searching all the National Forest and State Park campgrounds that might be a good destination. Many of the lakes on the west side of the Cascades are reservoirs. Thanks to the drought, many of those lakes are extremely low.

Howard Prairie, where we have camped in the past, is at 5 percent capacity, with Hyatt Lake 3 percent. Even Fish Lake where we camped and kayaked last summer is only 21 percent full. I thought about trying to go to Medicine Lake, without a reservation, but at this time of the year we couldn’t be sure of getting a decent site that wouldn’t be too far from the water to make kayaking reasonably effortless. I then remembered sweet camping times we have enjoyed at East Lake in the Newberry Crater National Monument east of LaPine. Our previous visits were wonderful, with no problem snagging a first come first served site right on the lake. This time was different. Checking the Deschutes National Forest reservation page, I discovered that every single campsite at East Lake and the other campgrounds in the area were reserved all the way through August. Sites in September and October that didn’t have a big R for reserved had a big XX indicating that they could not be reserved until a date two weeks prior to the desired reservation date.

The red circle in the photo above is our site 24.

I gave up and thought maybe we could try to get there in late September. But as I was looking around, suddenly I saw three big A’s, meaning a site was available. It was only one site, number 24, and was open for July 12, 13, and 14. Two days away. Could we make arrangements to leave that quickly? Why not. It was either that or giving up the idea of camping in July on a lake.

Just now, as I am writing this blog post, I checked the reservation site once again, and discovered that there are more cancellations and a few sites are actually available through July and August. Interesting. Maybe folks are afraid of the smoke and the fires and are cancelling their reservations. The forester told me that our site 24 was a cancellation so we were lucky.

We arrived at our reserved site at East Lake Campground around 2 in the afternoon. We were delighted to discover a spacious campground with well spaced sites and a nice view even from our site in the third row back from the lakefront.

After settling in we took a short hike with Mattie to check out the beach trail toward the east side of the lake.

The afternoon stretched into a lovely evening. Temperatures were in the low 80s which felt wonderful after our triple digit days back home in Grants Pass. We searched unsuccessfully for posted rules and drove back to the Newberry Crater visitor center to find a ranger. She informed us that there was a complete ban on campfires and that we could use our generator between the hours of 8am and 10pm. Good to know. We did miss having our evening campfires, but with the fire danger being so extreme it was a small price to pay for safety.

The next morning dawned clear and beautiful with a temperature of 44 degrees F. The lake was still as glass. Our first launch from the campground beach was easy. We kayaked to the east, toward the East Lake Resort.

I wanted to check out the hot springs along the shoreline, and was saddened to see that with the low water, the springs were almost completely dried up. In spite of rules to the contrary, people had been digging around the spring to attempt to reach the hot water. The last time we camped at East Lake I loved kayaking to the spring for a nice soak.

We followed the eastern shoreline, past the East Lake Resort, and the Cinder Campground toward the cliffs on the northern side of the lake. We saw a couple of ospreys on the trees along the cliffs, and an eagle soared out over the lake as we watched. With only the phone on board for photos, I snapped a few shots to prove we saw them, but none of them were good enough to post here.

Continuing toward the western shore, I disembarked for a short break. By the time I got back in the kayak, the winds were picking up and in moments the lake turned rough and choppy. The half hour pull back toward the campground was a good workout.

Once back to our camp, we cooked a good breakfast and relaxed a bit with coffee and the lake view. The skies were fairly clear with smoke from the Oregon fires blowing away from us toward the east. It was a perfect day to explore the road to the highest point in the Caldera at Paulina Peak.

The road up the mountain is paved for the first quarter mile or so and then turns to gravel with some serious washboards on the uphill side of the road. Traffic wasn’t terribly bad and even though the road is marked as a one lane road, there was plenty of room to pull over and allow cars to pass. Most folks were careful about waiting at wide spots for cars going in opposite direction.

When we got to the top, the parking area was almost full. There was a ranger explaining to folks about a fire near LaPine that had started just 10 minutes prior to our arrival. He said it was obvious that they were “on it”, because the smoke was white indicating steam from water rather than black indicating burning material. As we observed the fire throughout the rest of our visit, I did observe some black smoke on the southeast side of the fire.

The skies were clear enough that we could see the Three Sisters toward the northwest. The views toward the two lakes that are the jewels of the Newberry Crater were spectacular.

The smoke toward the east was a bit thicker, but we could still see the distinctive shape of Fort Rock in the distance. Fort Rock is that tiny dark circle which can be seen in the picture below just to the right of the sign and below the distant hills.

After short hikes to the viewpoints at the summit we returned to an empty parking lot. There weren’t many cars coming up the road as we descended and for that we were grateful.

Our plans for the next day included a hike in the Big Obsidian Flow, visible from Paulina Peak. The swirling flow of the cooled lava is fascinating to look on from above. Home to camp tired and happy, we settled in for the afternoon to enjoy the breezes, take a nap, play some cards and have a yummy hamburger supper.

Tomorrow we have two hikes planned and of course an early morning kayak.

07-17-2021 Fun times in Early July

Early July began with record breaking temperatures for Southern Oregon, and for much of the west. For us, the 116 degree temperatures moderated a bit to a livable 100 degrees. Amazing how good that feels even when the thermometer hits 100 several days in a row. So far, a couple of weeks into the month we haven’t experienced those awful 100 teens plus days since that first week. I hope we don’t get them again. In addition, in spite of the seriously hot weather and afternoon winds, we don’t have any fires locally. The biggest fire in the country right now is the Bootleg Fire, northeast of Kamath Falls, but the smoke is heading east and here in Grants Pass the skies are a gorgeous clear blue.

Going to the Lavender Festival inspired me and on the first day of the month I decided I should cut the lavender. The bees weren’t happy with me. They seem to love lavender more than just about anything in the yard, except for the bird bath which they have taken over completely as their very own summer water fountain. I try to be sure it is full every day. Bees need water and these are very sweet friendly honey bees that buzz around like crazy but never bother me.

A photo from my little shop in Wallace, Idaho

I decided it was time to make a wreath. I used to make so many of them when I was making a living growing and selling crafted dried flowers on the show circuit and in my little shop in Wallace, Idaho. After I let that business go to once again make my living digging holes in the dirt, I never made another wreath until now. I tried a small wreath of lavender. It took four full large bushes of fully blooming lavender to finish that wreath. Hanging it on the door, I delighted in the fragrance, if not the tiny little lavender flowers that shed all over the porch every time I open and close the front door. Who knows how long it will last or how long it will keep shedding.

July 4th this year was a treat. Especially after our nothing celebration last year because of Covid and everyone feeling much safer just staying at home. This year I asked Daughter Melody if we could come to her house for the day. She was thrilled, and even gave up the annual Fourth of July party that she traditionally shares with her Albany friends. Daughter Deb was going too, and decided to drive her own car since we had a bunch of “stuff” in our car. Grandson Matthew was going to go but at the last minute he had to opt out due to concerns with the couple that he helps to caretake. He had no one at the house to help and couldn’t leave Karen alone with the blood pressure and heart rate issues she was having. Next year we will celebrate minus Melody, but with a local picnic maybe Matthew will be able to participate. So hard to get everyone in the same place anymore.

The drive north on the Fourth was easy, just 3 hours to Melody’s house in the car. We opted to leave the MoHo at home since there really isn’t any place to park it at Melody’s house. Daughter Melody and Robert did a great job fixing up the guest bedroom with a cooling gel mattress pad, new comfy sheets and pillows, and a big fan in the window. Such a nice retreat it was for us.

By the time we arrived just after 11, Deborah was already there helping Melody lay out the huge feast of goodies she had prepared for the family. Somehow the giant tray of veggies and dip went by the wayside as we all gobbled up Robert’s traditional deviled eggs. No longer just for Easter, Robert’s eggs are a tradition whenever we all get together. Deborah made a delicious guacamole which kept me quite happy.

Grandkids, Axel and Xavier, with Axel’s sweetie, Pi, showed up by early afternoon. Axel and Pi are “new” even though they have known each other for over two years. At 28 years old, it is a good thing that Axel now at last has a solid, good relationship to enjoy.

My grandson Xavier was looking wonderful as well, putting on some weight and working at a job he loves. He is working in telephone sales for Cricket. Indoors, air conditioning, no heavy lifting, and plenty of percs and benefits. He likes it a LOT better than working in the produce department at Fred Meyer, which was the job he had before COVID required that he not work in that unsafe environment. Type 1 Diabetes is nothing to fool with, and he couldn’t risk being exposed to COVID. The entire family is fully vaccinated now and it is such a relief to worry a bit less about exposure to the virus at last.

The day was simple and easy with lots of talking and visiting. Melody and the kids and I walked the two blocks to the city park and the river. Pioneer Park is a popular place on the fourth and many families were camping and enjoying picnics at the big tables in the shade. Mattie went completely crazy with all the excitement of the river, the kids, and all the people. I did not manage to take a single photo of the excitement. It was hot and we were all quite happy to return to the cool living room for the rest of the afternoon.

Somehow we didn’t manage time for games, and by 3:30 Robert fired up the grill for supper by 5. It was amazing watching him manage all the different requests from each guest. Robert cooked filet mignon steaks, hot dogs, hamburgers, chicken legs, and four racks of ribs. Everything turned out perfectly, well almost. Some of us thought the ribs were a bit too done, but the kids loved them and took all the leftovers home. Not a thing went to waste….then again I am sure much went to our waists!

After dinner we visited some more. The kids left around 7 since they didn’t want to drive back to Albany after dark. It’s only a 20 minute drive or so for them, but with holiday crazies running around on the highway between Brownsville and Albany they thought it would be better to lay low in their own apartment for the evening.

The five of us ate some more goodies and waited until about 9 to gather up our chairs and walk down to the park once again for the fireworks.

The show was put on by the Brownsville Fire Department and they did a spectacular job. I have seen shows in much bigger cities that weren’t as wonderful as this show. It was also good to know that the fire department was making sure that everyone was safe and no stray sparks were unattended. I loved every minute of it.

The next morning we had a wonderful breakfast with bagels and Deborah’s egg bake casserole and more visiting before Deborah left for home and Mo and I headed south toward our next adventure.

July 5 Visiting Wildlife Safari in Winston

I think I went to Wildlife Safari a very long time ago, when Melody lived in Medford. All I remember is being with Melody and her mother-in-law, Donna, and Axel who was just a little one. I remember the cheetahs behind the fence and how much Axel loved cheetahs. Mo had never been to the Wildlife Safari. It isn’t far from Grants Pass, maybe 80 miles or so, and is a popular place to take out of town guests. Crater Lake, the Coast, Wildlife Safari, and the Hellgate Jetboats on the Rogue are the go to activities for company. Pretty sure Crater Lake and the Coast win hands down. We have talked about going the Safari a few times, and yesterday when I mentioned it again, Mo said, why not tomorrow on our way home from Brownsville.

In spite of the mid day hour, the heat, and the holiday, we decided to give it a try. We were happy to learn that even though dogs are not allowed in your car when traveling through the park, there are nice kennels provided for them to be safely housed during your visit. The kennels are free if you bring your own lock, but they will provide a padlock that you can keep for $5. Not bad to keep Mattie cool and safe while we explored. We decided to do the walkable portion of the park first. The area isn’t too big to walk in a short time and the gardens and shade trees are lovely. Most of the animals were lounging in the shade, too hot to move around much, and often hidden in their dark lairs so we weren’t able to see all of them. The tortoise was slowly meandering around his enclosure with a leaf in his mouth. Such fascinating creatures! The lions were pacing near the feeding area, but too far from the viewing platform to see them very well. The wolves from South America were completely zonked in the heat, very little movement from them.

The rest of the area is geared to families and kids, with a couple of eating establishments for snack food, and some exhibits geared to kids enjoyment. I think we stayed maybe an hour at most before getting in line for the slow meander in our car around the wild animal area where most animals roam freely and humans must remain in their cars.

Some of the animals from Africa, who seemed to be immune to the intense heat, were roaming about. Several were eating in the shade shelters which made photography a bit difficult, but as we rounded a curve to the area where feeding cups could be purchased, the emus, rheas, and several varieties of young deer were milling about begging for food from people in their cars. A lovely rhea poked his head in our window and looked rather disgusted that we had no food for him.

As we approached the cheetah area, there wasn’t a cheetah in sight, but there was a big jam up of cars. People were instructed at the beginning of the tour to stay to the right to let people pass if they wished, but many folks had no clue about how to do that. Drivers of cars full of young kids parked in the middle of the road, with no room on either side for passing.

We finally meandered along with the rest, but not without a few impatient exclamations from Mo and from me now and then. It was hot and many of the animals were not to be seen. We missed the rhino, the cheetahs, the yaks, and the hippos. Actually, we didn’t miss the hippos completely because as we passed I am pretty sure that two large gray rocks were actually hippos.

We enjoyed the Safari somewhat, but I think the most excitement came from Mattie when I picked her up from the kennel.

07-08 Driving up to Recreation Creek and Malone Springs.

With the heat in triple digits for days on end, Mo and I wondered when we might have a chance to get our butts in the boats again. We scheduled a day trip to Rocky Point for a nice early morning kayak after I looked at the temperatures and decided Thursday was the only day that it was to be less than 100 degrees in the Basin. We planned to leave early, and I packed a tuna sandwich lunch for us and we were in the truck by 7. When we travel, the kayaks are lifted on top of the Tracker and tied down. Requires quite a bit of effort, climbing up and down on a step to reach the straps, and getting all safely balanced and secured. We decided that for a simple day trip we could take the pickup. Loading the kayaks is considerably easier with the pickup. They still have to be lifted, but not nearly as high, and strapping them down is much simpler.

The route to Malone Springs, a few miles north of Rocky Point, is easy, and requires traveling from Grants Pass toward Medford, turning east near Central Point and traveling Highway 140 over the High Lakes Pass toward the east slope of the Cascades. Malone Springs is about half way between the Rocky Point boat launch and the northern terminus of Crystal Creek at Crystal Springs. We have kayaked the entire length of the canoe trail from end to end and through the marsh many times. This time, however, we decided to put in at Malone Springs and kayak south toward Rocky Point. We haven’t been in the kayaks since last year, and both of us were just a little bit apprehensive about our ability to get back out of the kayaks at the end of our paddle. We decided on paddling south for just and hour before turning around to be sure we didn’t do more than we could manage.

I was worried about my left shoulder which has been acting up lately with either arthritis or bursitis, legs with muscle atrophy which may or may not hold up when I try to rise from the boat, and now a silly trigger thumb that has been giving me a bit of trouble. Mo had been dealing with knee and ankle issues. It was time to get back in practice and see just how much we could manage. We also wanted to paddle in a place that didn’t have too many people around to witness our attempts at exiting our kayaks.

Nothing to worry about in the least. I was thrilled to be on the water again after so long. The morning was marred a bit by smoky skies from a large fire to the east of the Klamath Basin. Our views were up close, with the distant mountains of Crater Lake and Harriman Peak completely obscured by the smoke. Still, the wocus were blooming, although this late in the season there were only a few blossoms. The creek level was quite low, but not so much that we had any difficulty paddling, and the section of the creek that we followed wasn’t terribly weedy.

The water was clear and we were completely alone for the entire route, up and back. We turned around after an hour and 15 minutes to paddle upstream. As often happens on Recreation Creek, a slight breeze from the south made paddling against the gently current nearly effortless and the return trip was a bit shorter than the trip downriver. The views were limited by smoke and in the distance where we usually see the rim of Crater Lake to the north and Mt. Harriman to the south, we only saw murky skies. Birds were few and far between as well, except for the red winged blackbirds, many little brown twittery birds, a kingfisher and one great blue heron.

The canoe trail sign is very high above the water, indicating how low the water level is this year already. Often those signs are only a foot or two above the water level.

After all that time alone, I was exclaiming to Mo how lucky we were to have the creek to ourselves on this gorgeous summer day when suddenly ten kayaks rounded a curve and entered the Malone Springs area. We looked at each other, wondering if they planned to lunch there, and wondered when we would have the nerve to try to get out of the kayaks with ten people observing! The young woman who was guiding the group said they were leaving, and began loading all their kayaks onto a big trailer. Whew. Mo and I paddled around a bit in the spring waiting for everyone to leave. Along comes another kayaker, with a young lab puppy, and she kindly agreed to wait until we could get Mattie out of the boat.

We had nothing to worry about. I decided to exit my boat on the side opposite the shoreline in knee deep water. It was perfect. I didn’t even have to roll into the water as I did last summer to get out of the boat. The knee deep water did a great job of giving me the extra boost I need to rise from a sitting position. Mo tried the same maneuver and did just fine. We are now much more comfortable with our planned kayak day with family during the first week in August. No matter how understanding folks might be about our ungainly attempts to exit the kayaks, it is much nicer to not have to look silly in front of everyone.

After loading up the boats we settled in to the nearby picnic table for our packed picnic lunch. Malone Springs is known for having hordes of mosquitoes and yet with the heat and drought this year there were very few around to bother us.

We returned to Grants Pass, happy that we could do a simple day trip to find good kayak waters. Of course, being in the outdoors triggered the need to check for possible reservations available at any of the many campgrounds in the Cascades, or even perhaps farther east. We try to be sure to get at least one trip away in the MoHo each month and July was passing quickly. Lo and Behold…everything was blocked out and reserved every place I looked, except suddenly an opening appeared at a campground we have visited in the past and loved. The reservation was open for three days beginning on the 12th, giving us just two days to make the decision to go.

But that is for the next story….

05-19-2021 We Escaped the Snow…Mostly

When we went to bed after that gorgeous sunset we were in a bit of a quandary as to what to do. The internet was iffy, and I had a hard time getting weather apps to show current information. All I could see was the giant blue severe weather warning over most of the area we planned to explore on Wednesday. It wasn’t encouraging. There was always the chance that it was being over predicted, something that happens often. Then again, driving the MoHo down the winding mountain road out of the snow zone didn’t sound good if the 5 inches predicted actually happened. The 20F degree prediction for Thursday morning didn’t sound particularly good either.

We were reasonably certain that the main snow event would hold off until Wednesday evening, so went to sleep without much worry about snow the next morning, but where did we want to be when it happened? Did we want to simply give up and run home? NO! Did we want to try to run as far as Farewell Bend on the other side of Crater Lake? Hmm, MAYBE. Looking up the sketchy weather for Farewell Bend wasn’t possible because the only locations that would come in on the weather apps were Prospect, at a lower elevation with a decent prediction for rain, or Crater Lake with a LOT of snow predicted.

Maybe we should just stay at the RV park in Summer Lake? But with bad weather predicted for the next 5 days we really didn’t want to be trapped for that long. When we woke up to cloudy skies and a tiny skiff of snow Wednesday morning, we made the decision. We would drive the 5 miles east into the Summer Lake area to check for birds at the refuge before returning to the MoHo for a good breakfast.

With the overcast skies and spitting rain and snow I didn’t bother to take the big camera, depending on the phone to document what I thought would be a rather boring quick trip around the refuge loop. Big mistake! My Samsung Galaxy Note20 does an excellent job with most photos, especially in good light, or even sketchy light. However, zoomed in photos of birds are just a bit too tough even for the great phone camera.

Mo drove and wouldn’t you know that all the good bird shots were on her side of the car. As most people who watch birds know, staying in the car is the only way they stay around, with the car working as a great blind. So Mo would drive, try to roll down the window, take the phone and try to focus. We finally figured out that she could hold the phone and I could click the stylus to take the photo. Then Mo would roll the window back up because it was so dang cold, and of course, another bird would appear.

We had a good time anyway, laughing sometimes and grumbling at each other at other times. The water levels were low, and the numbers of birds seemed low, although it is a bit late for the big migrations. We were a bit astounded at the variety, however, spotting lots of blackbirds, red winged and yellow headed, ruddy ducks, Canada geese with babies, a beautiful pair of sandhill cranes, with a dancing male. As we drove deeper into the refuge, beyond the campgrounds, we began to see black necked stilts with their bright pink legs and the gorgeous avocets that we remembered from our last trip to Summer Lake a few years ago. We saw a single swan in the distance, too far to determine which species it was, but as always the swan was beautifully graceful.

By the time we completed the viewing loop at the north end of the refuge it was getting close to 11AM and we were chilled to the bone. Home to the MoHo and a nice big breakfast with eggs and bacon and toast and juice, a real treat when traveling.

As we were getting ready to pack up, a car appeared with two women we had seen the day before at one of the information kiosks. They were looking for the rock. They had been up the trail and had been fooled by the fake mountain goat scratched into a smaller rock along the trail. We told them how to find the real one. Shortly after that another car with a young couple showed up looking for the rock as well, and we told them about the trail and to be sure to look on the upside of the trail to find it.

By the time the slide was in and the jacks raised we had determined that our next stop would be La Pine State Park. Mo took me there one time when we were visiting her brother when he lived in La Pine but we had never actually camped there. It was only a bit over an hour away via Highway 31 toward Highway 97 and the road was wide and easy except for some rather horrific frost heaves on the pumice plateau that just about rattled us to death.

Once at the park, we first attempted to find a site in the upper north loop, where there was electric only. We didn’t need sewer so thought it would be fine. We attempted to settle into the rather narrow and unlevel site since there weren’t many available until we started to hook up the power. Um…wait….20 amp? On a very old post?? I think not!! Not if we are paying rather than boondocking, we wanted to at least be able to run the microwave without turning everything else off.

We retraced the entrance road and continued to the Middle and South Loop, where nearly every site was taken, but at least the few available had 30 and 50 amp hookups and the sites were paved and very level. We picked one and settled in, grousing about the dreary skies, the complete lack of not only internet, but even a cell phone signal! Neither of us was exactly happy with where we were. The forest was thick second growth lodgepole with some skinny scattered ponderosa pine and everything was so flat and gray. There wasn’t a bit of a view and the park was very crowded. It was disconcerting to discover that we had only a tiny bit of signal, enough for a text message but no access to any kind of internet, email, or maps. It certainly wasn’t what we had envisioned for our desert trip, and as the snow flurries started falling it made it even less fun when we couldn’t track the weather to figure out what to expect. We settled in, both of us a bit grumpy, which doesn’t happen very often. After talking it out a bit, we decided to get in the car and try to explore the flat, featureless landscape and see what in the world people did when they visited La Pine State Park.

With just a short ride, we found the Dan MacGregor memorial overlooking a lovely trail on a wide bow in the Deschutes River. With the sun appearing once again and the beautiful view of the river our mood began to improve considerably. Mo had camped at a forest service campground a few miles back toward La Pine and on the road that goes to Paulina Lake. Deciding to drive to that campground to check it out, we discovered a locked gate and a closed campground. Not sure why it was closed, but I am glad we hadn’t planned on staying there for the night.

The night was surprisingly quiet considering how full the campground was. I slept a bit fitfully, unsure of what the next day might bring. The snow flurries continued throughout the night, but by morning they were gone and lo and behold the sun was shining.

On the previous day I had photographed a map of the park with some locations that might be interesting to explore. When we checked into the park, there was only a simple map of the campground and not a single map or brochure about the area. Without the internet, we were basically following our noses, so I was glad I had photographed that park map.

We drove north and found the road leading toward “Falls”, a dot on the map. What we found was a magnificent surprise tucked away on that flat, featureless pumice plain covered with lodgepole and ponderosa. Fall River was gorgeous, a well known river for fly fishing, but on this cold sunny morning there wasn’t a soul in sight. We followed the trail to the Falls, not exactly sure how far it was, and as Mo asked me if I had any idea how much farther we needed to hike, both of us began to hear the roar of the falls.

It was lovely. Brilliant in the sunshine and surrounded by thick blooming bitterbrush and grass still green from the winter. In spite of our misgivings from the previous afternoon about La Pine State Park, the walk along the Deschutes River and the hike to Fall River Falls made a huge difference in our opinion of the place. We might decide to rent one of the cabins with a nice RV hookup area to visit next year with our friends Maryruth and Gerald. Just 20 miles south of Bend and not far from the Newberry Crater there would be lots to share in the area and Maryruth said they would love to rent the cabin.

By the time we left the campground at noon or so, the snow flurries had disappeared but there were huge black clouds on the horizon. Once we reached Highway 97 and I had cell service again, I discovered that we could expect more snow along our route to Farewell Bend west of the pass that is north of Crater Lake where we hiked last summer on our camping trip on the Rogue.

On that trip we discovered a sweet little boondocking camp site at Muir Creek, a tributary of the Rogue. Mo wanted to see if that spot was open for us, so we set our sights for the Muir Creek Bridge. It snowed on us a couple of times but by the time we drove in, the skies were a gorgeous blue. There is a trailhead that is on the west side of the creek with a large parking area with room to turn around. We parked there, unhooked the Tracker, and returned to the east side of the creek bridge to explore the campsite area.

We were thrilled to find it completely empty of campers, quiet and beautiful, and easily accessible with the MoHo. Having scoped out the best location, we returned for the MoHo and brought her back to what I now think may have been an even better boondocking site than our previous amazing spot at Pictured Rock Pass.

Our camping spot was a perfect dream of whispering forest, gurgling creek, brilliant sunshine and blue skies. Until it rained. But between the rain and snow showers, the sun was warm and Mo built a beautiful fire in one of the nicest firepits we have ever seen.

We sat outside in the afternoon sun with our kindles by the fire, reading till a shower ran us indoors, and then returning to the fire when the sun came back. Mo had only to step out the door to keep the fire going.

I hadn’t planned on dinners for this 4th night, and we thought about driving the 24 mile round trip to Beckie’s Cafe in Union Creek. It seemed like such a waste of precious time in the sunshine with our books so we made do. Dinner was tuna sandwiches and pickles and was perfect.

There was no need to close any of the blinds or cover the windshield here, since there wasn’t a soul around. The night was dark, and snow and rain came and went, but I was delighted to see that there was no snow on the ground when we woke. Funny thing happened when I looked out the front windshield and did a double take. It looked exactly like we were crossing the creek in the MoHo. Our front fender was less than 4 feet from the edge of the water, but from inside it looked exactly like we were in it.

I have no idea if this perfect boondock site will remain as perfect as it was for us on this weekday in May. Last year there was a tent and a trailer there when we visited in August. I also have no idea if the huge crowds of RVrs that are inundating almost every available site in the west will find our two perfect boondocks, one in the desert and another in the mountains. All I know is that for us everything was completely absolutely perfect!

The final leg of our trip home the next morning was just under two hours of familiar highway roads via the Rogue River route along Highway 62, crossing the Sam’s Valley on Highway 234 from Shady Cove to Gold Hill, and along Interstate 5 toward home. The skies at home cleared enough that we did our usual quick unloading of the rig, putting the food away, piling laundry into the laundry room, and letting the rest of the MoHo cleaning wait for the next day.

We managed to fill up 5 days and 4 nights with a LOT. It took me several days to process the photos, and several more days to write the stories. Hope my readers enjoy it as much as I have, but at least Mo and I won’t have to question which day we did what. Thank goodness for the blog to force me to write it down so that we remember.