Oregon – Page 14 – The MoHo and Other Traveling Tales

Raining on the Oregon Coast–Really!?

It is exactly what we expected when we planned a trip north from Brookings for this week in mid February. Why north when the possibilities for good weather were probably much better if we went south? The MoHo is in Brookings, and for the last few trips our route has been south, heading for the California beaches, the California deserts, warm days, sunny skies. But that is the key word, California, and we decided it might be nice to skip the traffic and people and explore our own magnificent coastline farther north than we have been together in the MoHo.

The plan was for a leisurely amble north toward Astoria, fully expecting rain and storms. There are huge groups of people who migrate to this coast specifically at this time of year to storm watch, and it is also time for the migrating gray whales to be moving north. Imagine our surprise on Saturday afternoon when we arrived in Brookings to sunny skies and temperatures as high as 60 degrees! There wasn’t a bit of fog except for a low bank on the horizon far west of the shoreline, and the bluebird skies were wonderful.

When we left Rocky Point, the sun was shining on the freshly fallen skiff of snow and over the pass we passed through some serious winter conditions with a bit of whiteout here and there. In Medford it was cloudy and raining, in Grants Pass the hail and sleet were pounding hard on the roof and then we passed through intermittent rain and squalls and sunshine all the way to Hiouchi, where we habitually check to see if our “spot” is empty. Usually it is taken, and we smiled remembering camping there along the little creek. It is a great little campground just inland from Crescent City.

With the MoHo stored in Brookings just a few minutes from Harris Beach, we have no need to stay anywhere else. Harris Beach has become our first and last night destination of choice. This time when we opened up the storage shed, all was perfect, no bad smells, no vandals cutting holes in the walls to ransack our rig, no mice shredding anything at all. Even though we assume the MoHo is safe, we have learned the hard way that when she is away from us for a few weeks at a time, who knows what surprises might await us when we open that door.

We drove immediately to the park where we scored another front row site with electric, water, and cable. Other sites in this row were completely full since most of them have a tremendous view of the ocean. Our view was not quite as dramatic, but we still could see the wide open sea from our back window. In spite of the sun, the wind was chilly and even though we picked up some local firewood bundles, the wet grass and cold breezes kept us cozy and warm inside.

We set up the rig, and then ran back to town to buy enough groceries at Freddy’s to be sure that we would qualify for our ten cent off fuel cost the next morning when we planned to fill the empty MoHo. Just down the street from Freddy’s (Fred Meyer Stores for those who aren’t Northwesterners), is the delightful little quilt shop I found our last time in Brookings. I thought it might be nice to check in there that afternoon since the next day was Sunday and of course quilt shops probably wouldn’t be open. Big surprise!

I had somehow managed to hit the first quilt shop in a list of 14 in the last weekend of the ongoing Quilt Run 101, stretching from Brookings all the way to Astoria. I had Sunday and Monday to get my passport card stamped at each of the 14 shops to qualify for a fancy Janome quilting machine or one of many gift certificates. Whoopie! We had already decided that we would move fairly quickly through the southern and mid coast where we have traveled before and slow down to explore the north coast, so the two day run wasn’t really much different than our original plan.

We woke on Sunday morning once again to brilliant sunshine and no fog. Winds coming from the north were cold, but I guess that is what keeps the fog away this time of year. Before we got back on the road, we enjoyed walking in the morning sunlight down toward the beach and were aghast at the level of the high tide. The entire beach was almost completely inundated, something we haven’t seen before. Texting back and forth with my daughter, I mentioned it and she immediately sent the following text message to me:

“When the Moon, earth, and Sun are positioned in a straight line at new or full Moon, the tide producing forces of the Sun and Moon are added together giving extra low tides called “spring tides”. These are the best tides for beach combing, clamming or visiting tidepools. During the Moon’s first and last quarters, the Sun and Moon act at right angles to each other, and the result is a much reduced tidal range called a “neap tide”. Mom, you are seeing mixed tides and the highest high tide is in the morning in the spring”

So did she touch type that whole thing into her phone or copy it over from somewhere else?!!

I can’t remember when we have driven this part of the coast in sunshine, and it felt like we were in a completely new world. The quilt shop run was great fun, especially for Mo doing the driving, since almost all the shops were right on the main highway and parking on this lovely Sunday was easy, many times we pulled the MoHo and Toad right up to the front of the shop.

As a brand new quilter, I had so much fun seeing all the different styles of quilting and the different focus of each shop reflecting the owner’s artistic bent. We made it all the way to Newport on that first day, visiting 8 of the 14 shops, and Mo had a nice day while I shopped, walking Abby in the sunshine in all the little towns. In Florence, Mo was walking down the street and met a little girl who loved Abby and said, “Do you want me to go home and get my dog?” Mo said no, but within minutes the little girl was back with her dog, a sweet little beagle, who loved Abby as well. Too bad Mo doesn’t carry the camera!

South Beach State Park, just south of Newport, is familiar to us, a place where the beach is some distance from the campground, but roomy and we knew there wouldn’t be a problem getting a site. By the time we reached Newport, the sunny skies were just a memory and the normal gray clouds of the coast settled in around us. Again, in spite of the lovely campsite with a great fire pit, our wood went unused. The soup I had thawed went unused as well, since we thought it would be fun to go down to old town Newport for some obligatory coastal fish and chips. It was surprisingly busy in spite of the rain, but we found a table at the Rogue (used to be brewery but they moved the brewing part across the river) and had halibut fish and chips for 13.95 market price. It was a great little place, with fun people watching and a cozy vibe. I topped off the perfect halibut with a Dead Guy Ale. Gotta love those crafted brew names.

We left on Monday morning with only 135 miles and six shops to visit between Newport and Astoria. As we drove north through the rain, the landscape looked much more familiar, with mist and fog shrouding the green mountains around us. Sometimes the ocean was visible through the fog, and other times we couldn’t see much. I filled up the day with color, however, and Mo enjoyed hanging in the MoHo reading while I shopped. A couple of times I was asked if I had a husband waiting in the car. Nope! There were a few guys shopping with their wives, but others just rolled their eyes at the thought of a patient person waiting while they shopped for fabric. I couldn’t help thinking of Rick and Paulette and all her shopping trips.

We gassed up the rig at Costco near Warrenton and unhooked the tracker for the ten mile run to Astoria, where I visited the last two shops and turned in my completed card with just minutes to spare. We will slow down and visit Astoria again in the next few days, since I was worn out with shopping and was definitely ready to settle in for the night.

The rain intensified as we backtracked to pick up the MoHo and drive to Fort Stevens State Park it was raining hard. Paul and Nina had recommended loop N for nice open sites, but when we arrived, the only loops open in the huge campground were H and I. H had two rigs and I had two rigs, so we picked a spot on the I loop right next to the showers, something we often avoid, but it didn’t matter since no one was there. Worked out perfect for me and I made use of the shower at 3AM just steps from the door, but you already know that part of the story.

The next day we planned to explore Fort Stevens, and decide whether we want to stay here or move a short distance south to the Camp Rilea Family Camp. Tune in to find out!

Another Rocky Point Sunday

The air has finally started moving again, and as I look outside the bedroom window I can see the last of the leaves twisting in the breeze. There is snow on the ground, still, from our foot of snow dropped a week ago, but it is thinning. Not that bad, really, for mid November. Sometimes during this time of year in our part of the world the air gets still and cold, with fog from the basin around the edges of the lake and smoke from the slash piles and prescribed burns making the air murky. It was like this for a week or so, and then a couple of nights ago the winds started blowing, dropping pine needles into the snow like pick-up sticks, and clearing the air. I love the sound of the wind at night.

Check out that great new stain on the house! The job is finally finished, with the crew coming to put the last touches on the last day before the snow fell. They did a great job, but we certainly weren’t very happy with the amount of time they spent doing it. The job was started in late September and only finished on November 3rd. Sometimes the crew wouldn’t come out until mid afternoon and only stay a couple of hours before leaving. We live a long way from town and we could never figure out how the contractor expected to make money doing business like that. Maybe he had too many jobs going on at once and was trying to keep everyone happy. Whatever. At least the job is finished and the house looks great and we didn’t have to do it ourselves!

On November 1st, Mo and I traveled west to Brookings for three gorgeous days on the beautiful sunny coast. On Monday, the 31st, Mo turned to me and asked, “Remind me again why we couldn’t leave for Brookings today?”. Halloween, silly! I had to be home for Halloween with my kids, actually the kids are only part of it. The rest of the story is the wonderful tradition of walking on the dark sidewalks filled with happy costumed families on Pacific Terrace, where I used to live in Klamath Falls. One more time I met my daughter and grandkids to walk through crispy leaves, smell the popcorn that one family hands out every year from their outdoor popcorn machine, and be amazed at all the wonderful decorations that line the street for a mile in each direction. There is no better place to be at Halloween than Pacific Terrace in Klamath Falls.

When we left Tuesday morning for the coast, the weather was incredible. Blue skies all the way, without even a hint of fog over the ocean to mar the views. We went immediately to Harris Beach State Park, hoping for one of the ocean view sites, only to discover that those sites were all taken, even on a weekday in November! Instead, we settled into a roomy spot just across the road from those premium sites, power and cable and water for 22 bucks and still a great ocean view.

Our main purpose for the trip was to get the MoHo settled in to her storage berth, so we immediately went to meet the owner to be sure that the unit was easily accessible. Turns out that it is just fine, and when we slid the MoHo in on Thursday morning before traveling back to Rocky Point, it was a piece of cake.

In the mean time, we spent a good deal of time looking at possible properties in the Brookings area, but none were just right for what we wanted. Still, it was fun driving up the Chetco River to look, and then to the north end of town, just hoping for the right combination of view, price, and of course a big RV storage shed to appear. We took some wild rambling roads and were surprised to discover that many roads around Brookings are incredibly narrow and steep. Saw a spot with a gorgeous view of the ocean, with the words “great for a two story cottage”. That should have been a clue, since the property was on the side of a mountain with just enough flat ground for a very tiny home, and no space for an RV shed.

We saw another truly beautiful home and giant perfect RV shed with a gorgeous view, and an unbelievable 8 foot deer fence surrounding almost all the property, enclosing 50 roses and some beautiful gardens. The price was OK, but then there was more than 5 acres that needed subdividing, with some weird garages with no windows and with people actually living in them! Very strange. All a bit too complicated, and we laughed and said, “Let’s go find the fish and chips”. Once more we went to the Chetco Café down in Harbor where the ambience is certainly funky but the fish was as perfect as last time, thin thin very crispy perfect coating on tender, flavorful perfect fish. Yum. And a decent white wine at 3 bucks a glass. Can’t beat it.

We spent the next day relaxing, or I should say Mo relaxed while I went into town to use the coffee shop internet for a work conference. Finally in the afternoon we headed for the gorgeous, sunny beach. Dinner was a perfect steak brought from home and a great campfire and then a walk that took us to the campsite of some local Rocky Point friends who just happened to be camping there as well. They invited us in to their fire, offered more wine and conversation, and the evening stretched out to the late hours with fun and laughter. Seems as though Harris Beach is a pretty popular place for most of us.

On Thursday, once the MoHo was settled in to the storage unit, we drove north to take the back road route from Gold Beach through Agness and back to Grants Pass. The road is called the Bear Camp Coastal Route, and is not maintained after November 5 through the winter and spring. We made it just in time. Although on the map the road looks like it should be a short fast way back home, in reality, it is steep and slow and absolutely beautiful. It follows the Rogue River to Agness then climbs the coast mountains before dropping back down to the Rogue near Hellsgate. Even in the Tracker, the road was a bit daunting, especially on the passenger side. It was beautiful, though, and while we may not have to do it again soon, I am glad I finally got to see the famous route over the mountains. Let me just say, DO NOT ever even think of driving this road in any kind of motorhome!

That morning Brookings was shrouded in clouds with rain coming down and snow predicted for the mountains above 4,000 feet. Sure enough at the top of the route we ran into some snow, some deer, and even a bear! I WILL learn to keep my camera in my lap and on, but instead, at the bear moment, Jeremy was snoozing in my lap and the camera was on the floor. By the time we got home, there was fresh snow over the pass on 140 but no snow yet in Rocky Point. We would have loved to stay longer in Brookings, but too many details awaited us and thank goodness the heaviest snow held off till our Friday errands were run and we were safely back at home. I can’t believe how lucky we were to get in just under the wire with the first really big snowstorm arriving the day we put the MoHo in storage in snowless Brookings. Perfect.

I spent last weekend cutting and sewing strips for my very first quilt. It was a perfect day to be playing with brightly colored fabric with the dark skies and falling snow. It is just a simple panel, with borders, and I got all the borders on and am now attempting to learn how to do the machine quilting part. Mo is worried that I will now start collecting fabric the way I collect yarn. Hopefully I will refrain from getting too carried away with all this.

I have been knitting, and quilting, and working soil survey stuff, and somehow the time to write has slipped. Winter is here, life has simplified a bit for now, and I am enjoying that a lot.

My blogging mentor comes to Rocky Point!

I am reasonably certain that just about anyone dropping in to read my blog already reads Laurie and Odel’s blog, Semi-True Tales of our Life on the Road. I read Laurie’s blog long before I knew there was such a thing as an RV blogging community, and when we met in person in 2010, Laurie gave me a ton of pointers on how to do a blog, and where to find some of the other bloggers I might like to read. My “stretch” format for this blog was stolen almost directly from Laurie, with her permission and help of course.

Our paths have crossed a few times, and it was with great delight that I discovered they planned to be here on Saturday before leaving Oregon for the season on their way back to California. I spoke to the weather gods, who teased me with early morning freezing fog before bringing on a gorgeous, wind free, sunny day in the mid-60’s. Perfect kayaking weather! Especially for someone not familiar with that unsteady feeling when you get in a kayak for the first time.

“Just like a bicycle”, I told Odel. Watching that first wiggle as Odel got used to the boat reminded me of my first time after we bought the kayaks. I remember thinking, “OMIGOSH, I will never be able to do this”. Within minutes, Odel was racing along like a pro, although the exceedingly calm waters without a lick of current were probably a bit helpful. I was so busy worrying about Odel in that first few moments that I have no clue how Laurie did as Mo helped her first launch. I am pretty sure it was flawless, though, because I heard no splashes or exclamations in the background and when I finally looked up, Laurie was racing along even faster than Odel.

We spent a couple of hours meandering down to Harriman Springs, laughing and talking and enjoying every minute of the gorgeous sunshine and bluebird skies. Turns out it was opening day for duck hunting season and we were entertained by men in camouflage and boats that looked like some sort of grass hut plying the waters out to the main part of Klamath Lake where they could shoot. Lucky for us, there was no shooting in Pelican Bay or down Harriman Creek, and the white pelicans just meandered around as if everything was just fine. Surprisingly, we didn’t see many ducks, and from what they said, neither did the hunters!

After our kayak, we walked the short distance to the Rocky Point restaurant, still quiet enough in the early afternoon that we snagged the perfect windowside table for our refreshments. The laughing and conversation continued until we all realized that our late lunch/early supper plans were turning into much later than originally thought. We drove back to the house with hungry bellies. Before long Mo had the baby BBQ going and I had a Copper River salmon filet on a plank with a new homemade citrus rub I decided to try. Our guests brought some great Chardonnay to flesh out the meal. Dessert was a big adventure, since I decided to try the new “thing” that seems to be going around food circles recently. Fresh strawberries with a good 18 year old balsamic vinegar over vanilla ice cream. The real kicker to this recipe is the call for fresh black pepper. Yes, that is pepper! I was chicken to put it on, but in a flash Odel had that pepper shaker out and was peppering the ice cream with abandon.

His bravery inspired the rest of us, and amazingly, it was really good! Mo, who is the least adventurous eater among us, opted for chocolate on her vanilla. I offered my little bit of leftovers in my bowl (yeah I am still dieting and only ate a tiny bit!) to Mo, who smiled and said, “I’ll bet Abby will like this.” Abby of course, thought it was great, pepper and all.

Here is a map of where we kayaked today.

A few more photos of our visit are linked here.

Happy October Everyone!

October Heaven

As much as I love the delight of Spring, I don’t think there is any time of year in Rocky Point more beautiful than early fall. Our springs can be wet and cold, and when they warm a bit, the mosquitoes tend to visit. Mosquitoes bring bats of course, a good thing, except a bit unnerving when they swoop down from the eaves while we are in the hot tub. As summer progresses, the frogs proliferate like the proverbial rabbits, tiny little green guys lining up on door sills, and sometimes sneaking into the hot tub for one last too warm swim.

When October comes, however, all is still. The leaves haven’t yet turned, flowers still in bloom, mosquitoes have gone to sleep and frogs are thinning out. Morning sunlight filters through the trees lighting up the now lush grass. It takes much of a summer for Mo to get that grass as thick and lush as she likes, with careful attention to dry spots, brown spots, moss, and edges. She is the lawn person, and am mostly the flower person. It works well.

I wait very impatiently for October 1st, refusing to put up any kind of fall or Halloween decorating before then. Then down come the bins, out comes all the fun stuff, the fall harvest flags go up, and we start building morning and sometimes evening fires. I love the smell of the juniper when it catches, and the feel of that warm glow. Jeremy loves it as well, lounging in front of the flames stretched to his full length to absorb all the warmth. The knitting comes out, homemade stock for soup on the stove, and the evenings are dark before 7.

Of course before this auspicious day, I had many things to do to fill up the last great week of September. My grandson, first daughter Deborah’s son Matthew, got married last weekend and I was able to fly to Colorado to share in the wedding. It was a lovely occasion, held at the only golf course in Sterling, with a sweet ceremony and a sit down supper and dancing afterward. Jessi’s family all live in Colorado, but our family is a bit more scattered and all weren’t able to be there. As always, weddings are such emotional times, with moments of gaiety and moments of nostalgia all wrapped up together in the tradition.

Deb and I had a day long layover in Denver and decided to spent it with Mo’s sister Edna. We visited at home with a chance to once again have lunch with dear Lucille, now 103 years old.

Then Edna, Deb and I checked out the Bear Creek Regional Park, a lovely campground not far from Edna’s home where she is planning a big family reunion next summer. It looks like it will be a perfect spot as long as Colorado doesn’t hit all of us with really hot summer temperatures. There are miles of biking and hiking trails, some shady escapes from the heat, although not actually in the campground itself. There is a swimming beach, and three reservoirs for kayaking and dog swimming. The group site holds 5 rigs with electric hookups and room for tents as well for only $70 per night for all. In addition, for family without RV’s there are two very lovely comfortable yurts, one in beautiful shade.

After exploring the park, the three of us drove 15 minutes farther east to Morrison and the southern entrance to Red Rocks Amphitheater. It was Deb’s first time to see the historic venue and she was enthralled. As a lover of music, she really enjoyed all the posters and history of so many great artists who have played there in the past. We enjoyed the gorgeous view of Denver from high above the stage, and especially enjoyed reading about the history of Red Rocks. Again, this is a place that would not exist without the efforts of FDR and the CCC who built the amphitheater around the existing natural stage of red rock. In the early teens, musicians would play there and the visitor center has some truly great photos of those old performances. The geology of the place is magnificent, with the great unconformity of the Rocky Mountains in full view here below Dinosaur Ridge. As a lover of the wild red sandstones of Utah, I thrilled at the color and beauty of this place carved from the same stuff.

Our flight back to Portland was uneventful, even though we arrived close to midnight and Deborah had to work the next day. I drove south on the 5, thinking of Russ and Donna, but they were off somewhere else having a wonderful time in Therapy so I didn’t stop in Eugene.

Then Tuesday morning Mo’s brother Roger and his wife Nancy came down from Lone Pine to share a few days with us at Rocky Point. They just bought a brand new motorhome, a 2012 Winnebago Aspect, 28 feet, with a full down queen sized bed, something I do envy! They decided to leave it behind and take advantage of our little cabin instead. The cabin is really comfortable, with cozy furniture, lots of farm and ranch antiques about, a very good little wood stove, hot water showers, and a composting toilet. My favorite part of the cabin is the light, huge windows on the east bringing in morning sunlight in a way I don’t get here in the main house. It’s lovely, and it’s always nice when folks choose to stay in the cabin.

We spent one day kayaking Recreation Creek, and the next day paddled south into Harriman Creek to the springs and back. It was perfect weather for being out in the boats and we had a great time.

After our morning kayak on Thursday, we all decided that a trip to Lava Beds National Monument was in order. Time for a bit of caving! I was game, although going down into caves isn’t particularly on my list of important life events. Even in Carlsbad Caverns I didn’t feel particularly comfortable. I was awed by the beauty and the formations, but still just didn’t want to be down there. Caves are a place for unearthly beings. Spirits and ghosts and who knows what. Bats and white crawly things and dampness. Ugh. Oh, right, I am a scientist, who supposedly doesn’t believe in spirits and ghosts. Ask me again when I am in a cave sometime, which won’t be in the near future!

Still it was a fun trip. Lava Beds is a quiet park, in the middle of almost nowhere beyond the Lower Klamath and Tulelake Wildlife Refuges and resting below our favorite Mountain Lake Highlands from which it emerged. Lava has flowed here for thousands of years, last time was less than 800 years ago, so the area is fresh and hot with jagged a’a lava. There are many lava caves, some as yet little explored, and only one that has light. We chose instead to follow the cave loop and see how many caves we could see in the time we had left on this afternoon.

After checking for our possibility of carrying bat disease, the ranger gave us a brochure that listed all the caves, with check marks for “can walk upright” “Must duck walk in some part” “Must crawl in some part” and the length of the cave. We started with Thunderbolt, and the very scary, very uneven trail descended some steep steps before crawling off into blackness and low hanging rock guaranteed to give you a serious head bump if you stood up too quickly. Deep into the tunnel, we did the thing all cave tours do and turned off our flashlights. That lasted just a few seconds before we all creeped out and turned our lights back on!

The next few caves that we explored weren’t quite as deep and black, but I still wasn’t exactly having fun and was glad when we emerged from the last cave of the day. Even with my heebie jeebies, it was still fun to go exploring and a great thing to do with company who have never been to Lava Beds. I guess if I have company again who want to see the park, I will have to go down in the caves once more. Ugh. We topped off our visit with a trip up to Lake of the Woods for a great dinner before the restaurant closes for the season.

I love having company, and I love when I have no company. Quiet days with a bit of gardening, some knitting, catching up on the DVR recordings, no deadlines, nowhere to be. Next week will be full again, I will work another 40 hours and hopefully the guys staining the house will eventually complete the prep and get to the actual staining! Toward the end of the week, another round of excitement will come to Rocky Point with a visit from Laurie and Odel! Yippee and Hooray! We are really hoping for a few more perfect kayak days to take them out on the creek, for what I think will be their first time kayaking.

September 10 The Banana Belt Delivers

Clear skies, temperatures in the 80,s and new friends, it was a perfect day on the coast. Mo and I were laughing as I sat down to write this blog, trying to come up with a title. Titles shouldn’t make a bit of difference, but I have found that they do. Our blog post last spring titled “Vandalism” has received by far more hits than anything I have ever written. I sometimes wonder if folks are actually searching that word when they find it. Other titles, simple ones like “A beautiful day at the ocean” can slip by with not a soul paying any attention at all. Makes me laugh. Not that post views are the only reason to blog, but of course I can’t help noticing. I thought about the title, “Shocking!”, and then letting my first sentence be something like, “Shocking that it was 85 degrees at the coast today.”

The morning dawned brilliantly, with most of the summer fog lifting even before we were out of bed. We called the storage facility at 8:30 and “Mr. Wilson”, a charming and very accommodating gentleman, said, “If you are a Harris Beach I’ll meet you at the storage facility right now.” Seems as though he made the right purchases at the right time, with several storage facilities and home rentals scattered throughout town. He drove up in his new Prius, and measured all the door openings to find one that was 12 feet high. We found a great space, with plenty of room to back in, and he was fine with us paying him now and having the rent begin on November 1st.

With that major chore accomplished, we wandered around town a bit and did some shopping before ambling back home to our lovely sunny spot with a view of the ocean in the distance. Lunch was simple and we relaxed and waited for Connie and Tracy to appear in mid-afternoon.

Right on schedule, at 2PM, the two of them walked into our campsite with Hunter, the beautiful greyhound dog with fine manners and an incredibly sweet disposition. Hunter and Abby got along well, and Jeremy who was outside on the step, thought that this large new creature was incredibly interesting.

As is often the case with RVing friends, we launched right into comfortable conversation at the picnic table. Comparing notes on coastal weather, campgrounds, RV destinations, rig configurations and all those interesting topics that make my townie, non RVing friends look a bit vague and simply yawn. A walk down to the southern end of Harris Beach on the South Beach Trail with the dogs was on the agenda, and with a couple of camera toting shutterbugs and two happy dogs we took off walking.

The time at the beach was great, and the dogs were perfect entertainment. We laughed and talked some more and did the obligatory time-release camera shots on the beach, propping cameras on near-by rocks to take photos of the four of us together. It was great fun. Mo and I are solitary travelers, enjoying our own company and not big socializers, but now and then some companionable friends are a delight. I know our paths will cross again, and next time we might actually have to get out the dominoes!

Back at camp, with some good Alaskan Amber and a few snackies, the conversations flowed on till early evening. The two of them had a couple of hours to drive back to their camp at Cape Blanco and hopefully they made it home before dark. Mo and I decided that all the excitement was just too much fun and we skipped the campfire for the evening and settled in to watch a delightful little movie called, “Love For Rent”. I think the R rating is for some of the four letter words in the beginning, the most of the movie isn’t R at all. We both really enjoyed it.