Oregon – Page 18 – The MoHo and Other Traveling Tales

Pahrump to Fernley and home to Rocky Point

I can’t believe that I am once again sitting at my desk in Rocky Point, looking out the window at snow. The snow came down in big fat flakes all day yesterday but didn’t stick, but this morning we woke to more than a good inch covering everything as if it were winter and not April. Somehow luck was with us all the way home, and we slid into Rocky Point on bare pavement under blue skies on Tuesday afternoon. This storm blew up the next day and now will be with us for a few more days according to the weather predictions. I am hoping that all the folks on the road heading north are warm and dry and avoiding this latest round of weather from the Pacific.

We left Pahrump early in the morning on Monday, driving hard and straight north on Highway 95, through the tiny town of Goldfields, and passing Tonopah, the Nye county seat, in the blink of an eye. Somewhere in all my western travels, I don’t think I have traveled this route, usually preferring to go west to 395 in California. We were rewarded with decent gasoline prices, at 3.69 per gallon for the $172.00 fill-up in Fallon, Nevada. I heard rumors of prices well above 4 bucks on 395, but will have to see what Donna and Russ have to say about that, since I believe they traveled that route south in their pretty new Lazy Days called “Therapy”. I think we must have passed each other somewhere close to Susanville.


*Goldfields, Nevada in the process of restoration by the local folks*	*We were on the other side of Tonopah before we knew it*

The skies were clear all the way north, but the temperatures were only in the high 40’s as we traveled through Nevada. Our plan was to boondock for the night, but when we reached Fallon, it was still only 3 in the afternoon, and once on the major east-west route of ALT 50, boondock sites were in short supply. The lovely BLM land, great for boondocking, all seemed to be considerably south of Walker Lake, another spot that I would have liked to explore, but it was much to early in the day. Like horses heading for the barn, we were on a roll and wanted to get as close to Reno as possible before stopping for the night.

A quick search on Streets, turned up a CampClub USA park west of Fallon in Fernley, Nevada, right on our route. My visions of camping in the open desert on a big alluvial fan with never ending vistas was only partially realized. I was still on an alluvial fan in the desert, with a decent view only obstructed a bit by the RV next to us. By 4pm we were settled in to a very nice little park called Desert Rose. In addition to our CampClub discount, this park had just about every other club discount, including Escapees. It wasn’t fancy, but clean and lined with level concrete pads, new trees, grass, and “the best cable TV this side of Michigan”, according to the very gregarious caretaker. We even had decent Wi-Fi where I was able to post the last couple of blog entries.

We slept well, after staying up much too late catching up on cable news and the internet. Tuesday morning dawned clear and gorgeous again, if a bit cool, and we were on the road by 7:30. Our route was straightforward, through Reno on Alt 50 to I-80 to 395 north to Susanville, Alturas, and then on 39 home to Klamath Falls. The skies were still gorgeous, with puffy clouds and snowy mountains in the distance as we approached our mountain home.

We love to camp at Medicine Lake, and the snow covered barren slopes of Glass Mountain, formed entirely of black obsidian, beckoned us as we passed the familiar turn-off on our route.

Once in Klamath Falls, we gassed up the MoHo at Fred Meyer for 3.72 per gallon, picked up some vet only cat food for Jeremy, and took the Lakeshore route home so that we could stop in at Moore Park for our free dump site. Klamath Lake seemed especially full, and the A Canal delivering water from the lake to the farmers on the Project was also full, indicating that for the first time in a couple of years, we are having a good “water year”. The farmers will get their irrigation from the Project, and the salmon will have enough water to make it back up the Klamath River. We will have enough water to get the kayaks back out in Recreation Creek hopefully very soon, at least if this snow ever melts.

Once home, we were happy to see that almost all the snow was melted and the road looked fine. The grass was starting to green up except for extensive areas where the voles have tunneled a virtual city protected by our 4 month snow cover. Daffodils are starting to appear, and the buds on the trees look good. Mo backed the rig into her waiting berth and in no time we were unloaded and back home with the fire going, checking the recorded shows on the DVR and laughing at Jeremy racing around the house after all the invisible ghosts that must have taken over while we were gone.

Something wonderful about rounding this bend in the road and seeing our home turf across the lake

I spent all day yesterday washing bedding and rugs and clothes from the MoHo and tried to get adjusted to being back home while I watched the snow fall and remembered the 100 degree afternoon in Laughlin. Sometimes that re-entry can be ambivalent; I’m so happy to be home, yet somehow feel a bit disoriented. Mo doesn’t seem to get as confused by all this as I do, and she just settled in easily to our home routines without a hitch. By this morning, however, all seemed just fine to me, in spite of the deep snow. I have no clue if I will be working next week, thanks to the government shutdown rumors, but either way, it’s good to be home.

Heck of an early winter here

Nice to have a new follower, I am always amazed when that happens. Thank you. Barry and Linda are talking about boondocking sites, always an interesting subject.

The guest cabin is getting buried!

Although for the last few days I haven’t been spending much time reading. Every morning I have shoveled 2 to 4 inches of snow from the driveway, enjoying it actually, until today when we had more than a foot dumped on us overnight. It seemed like a little bit too much, I had nowhere to throw it and it’s only November. Mo tried to start up the snow blower to finish the job, but it wouldn’t go, so I shoveled and she plowed and after about 3 hours we had the driveway and road passable. This big storm has rampaged across the northwest, leaving snow in Victoria, ice in Bellingham, and wreaking general havoc on roads and highways all over the place. We knew it was coming, but the predicted temperatures tomorrow are below zero, and that’s Fahrenheit, not Celsius! The wind blew hard all night and covered the wide front and back porches with hard, icy snow that I couldn’t scrape off no matter how hard I tried. I think I am ready for a break already. Yeah, I know it’s only November.

I’ll be off to visit a friend in Florida for a week in early December while Mo keeps the home fires burning and the road plowed. The day I return, we are jumping in the Tracker and going to pick up the MoHo in Redding and find some sunshine in Desert Hot Springs for Christmas week. Whew! I am having Thanksgiving this year, so there will be some good family time there, and told my Klamath daughter and grandkids that I would celebrate a late Christmas with them when we return.

The road to Medford on the way to Costco

The road home from Medford. Class A with no chains??

Yesterday Mo and I decided to make a Costco run. For us, that is a 45 mile drive to Medford, over the pass on Highway 140, past Lake of the Woods and down the Crater Lake Highway. It’s usually a beautiful drive and we can be at the Costco parking lot in less than an hour. Not so yesterday. After our morning snow exercises, we left around ten and the storm was already coming on fairly strong. By the time we left Medford and headed back east, it was in full force, with many sliders and slow vehicles trying to get over the pass. I was especially surprised by the big Class A motorhome stranded on the pass trying to get out the the Basin. I have no clue why someone would attempt to drive a big rig like that over a stormy, snowy pass, with chains required signs everywhere, but with no chains.

Today we had to go the opposite direction, again after morning snow exercises and on another snowy, icy road. I ordered a free range organic fresh turkey from Howard’s Meats in Klamath Falls and of course needed to do the rest of the Thanksgiving shopping there as well. On the way home, we saw that Klamath Lake is beginning to freeze already, and there are still hundreds of ducks in the bay, and even some Canada geese. Tonight that little bit of open water is going to close in even more. I worry about the birds. Our lake and basin is on the major Pacific flyway and these little ones are on a clock that didn’t include subzero temperatures in November. Heck, we rarely get sub zero temperatures in the deepest of winter!

The MoHo is in Redding, where tomorrow morning the temperatures are predicted in the low 20’s. Pooh. We drained the tanks, but didn’t put antifreeze in the drains. The whole reason for that expensive storage place is that Redding rarely drops below 30 degrees and we wouldn’t have to winterize. Sigh again. Mo thought about driving down there today while I did the Klamath shopping, but 3 hours each way in a winter storm isn’t particularly fun. After talking to some folks we decided that the rig would probably be fine. The temperatures will go low, but it is inside, and the sun will be out and the temps in the 40’s by 10 am. Tomorrow is the coldest day, so we are watching the weather map on weatherunderground and hoping it won’t be as bad as predicted.

Tomorrow is the big cooking day, so as long as the power grid holds up I should be busy. Mo also got the snow blower running this evening so my shoveling time might be a bit less. Who knows. I love winter, and I love being able to leave it as well! It’s the best of all worlds.

August 24 LePage to Spokane

Wonderful to have such a great night’s sleep and to wake up to fresh breezes and a view of the water. LePage Campground is a delightful little treasure tucked away on I-84 and a good overnight stop.

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The trip along the Columbia River is the best part of the route, and once across the river into Washington the landscape becomes barren and boring unless you look deeper into the rest of the story.

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We settled into Riverside State Park close to Spokane early in the afternoon, just in time for the arrival of Mo’s brother Don, who lives in Spokane. The Centennial Trail winds along the river through the park and we unloaded the bikes for a nice little afternoon ride. It’s great to see the Bowl and Pitcher area again with it’s wild waters, basalt columns, and to walk across the swinging bridge over the Spokane River

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Photos from the rest of our day are linked here

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Be forewarned, the following is my own personal journaling, much too wordy for a blog, but the more important reason for this blog, keeping track of my feelings and memories while we travel. I write here mostly for me and for Mo, and for my kids, and of course, anyone else who wants to know more.

Sue’s JOURNAL:

What a difference a day makes, AND! a good night’s sleep. AND a computer that works properly. AND! the allergy medications worn off. Whew! The sun is gorgeous this morning, coming over the brown hills to the east, framed in green locust trees and accented by the blue waters of the John Day River, fat and lazy due to the John Day Dam just west of us here at the mouth of the river. This little campground is a treasure, and we enjoyed this mornings cool breezes, and a good night’s sleep. We didn’t even have to unhook last night, and our site is right on the water. The campground is unassuming, but we look out over the water from our awning side and are on level pavement pull through. In the distance we can see the freeway, the railroad, and the hills around us are punctuated by the brilliant white and graceful windmills. Power and transportation, all right here, and yet so rural and very peaceful.

The drive from this park to Spokane is pleasantly uneventful, without much to see except the river itself, huge and wide. I have traveling it far too many times, however, to pay much attention any more to the charms of Eastern Oregon and Eastern Washington, especially the area around the Tri-Cities. The most entertaining part of the trip was watching what the NUVI was telling us, and seeing her calculate the same routes I have used since I first started traveling these roads in 1972. We knew company would be coming for dinner so stopped at the huge and fabulous Kennewick Fred Meyer for supplies before continuing on into Spokane.

I looked at the very brown, very dry fields all around us and tried without much success to see them with new eyes. I know the story of wheat in Eastern Washington, the levels of precipitation and the depth of the soils increasing exponentially with the bushels per acre harvested as you approach Pullman/Moscow on the Washington-Idaho border. I know the amazing story of the Great Missoula Floods that 13,000 years ago emptied a lake that covered a large part of Montana in what some say may have been as little as two days. These brown scabby hills to the west of Highway 395 between Richland and Spokane are actually part of what is called the Channeled Scabland. However, as a tourist passing through on the highway, none of this story is visible unless you know the tiny details and what to look for. Today, it just looked incredibly brown and boring. The only good thing to be said is that the 100 miles or so from Tri-Cities to the Interstate 90 is now all four lanes, a good highway. I traveled it for years as a 2 lane pain in the neck road full off slow truckers and furious people who couldn’t pass them.

We arrived in Spokane by 2 in the afternoon, and this time used the NUVI to negotiate the river and the bridges that make getting around sometimes a bit difficult in this town. Of course, we found out again why everyone thinks that Spokane has the worst roads of any large city in the west. Huge potholes and construction was going on everywhere, and we negotiated red flags and orange barriers all across town. Another issue is the fact that Riverside State Park is sometimes hard to find, with the headquarters actually several miles north of the campground. The Garmin Girl kept trying to make us go very far north. If I hadn’t known the city, we could still be wandering around out there. Once in the campground, however, all quieted down. No one was in the kiosk, and we had no clue what our site number was supposed to be, but thankfully the telephone worked and after a call to headquarters, we settled into space 12 right next to the river.

We unhooked the Geo, only to discover that the battery was completely dead. Somehow we had managed to park in a way that worked well, and we backed the MoHo into the site, and pushed the Geo off the road facing the front of the MoHo, thinking a jump would do the trick. We were not so lucky, however, since it only clicked a bit before we gave up and called AAA. Funny part about all this is that Triple A in Oregon had to route us to Triple A in Washington, and no matter how hard I tried to explain to the operator that we were NOT in Nine Mile Falls, she still sent the assistance to Nine Mile Falls, insisting that was the address of Riverside State Park. We were especially lucky that the cell phone still worked down in the river canyon, because when the mechanic called me, he knew exactly where I was and drove back from Nine Mile to find us. His charger had enough power to start the little car up, and after letting it run a bit, we were just fine.

:By this time, Mo’s brother Don had found our campsite to join us for the rest of the afternoon. I also called an old friend in Coeur D’Alene who agreed to make the long drive to the west side of Spokane to visit. While we waited for Laura to arrive, Don and Mo and I went off for a bike ride on a small portion of the Centennial Trail that is in Riverside State Park. This trail extends from Nine Mile Falls through Spokane east into Idaho ending on the east side of Coeur D’ Alene Lake. I remember when the trail was just a gleam and a plan, and before I left the area almost ten years ago it was fairly well developed. It is a great place to ride. In fact, there are several trails in this part of Washington and Idaho that have been developed for biking, many from old railroad right-of-ways.

When we arrived back to camp from the bike ride, Laura arrived with a huge bowl of fabulous veggies from her garden to add to our supper. We cooked the pork chops and corn on the cob outside, while I did some rice and a salad in the MoHo. It was wonderful having some time to visit and catch up on our children, families, and doings over the last couple of years. Laura and I haven’t seen each other since she visited me in Klamath a few years ago, so this was an extra special treat. It was nice having Don there as well, and he and Sharon took Abby down to the river for a swim.

The moon was full and clearly visible through the trees and the park was dark and quiet except for the faint sound of the river below us. It’s really dry this time of year, so even if we could have found some firewood, there were no fires allowed. By the time everyone left it was close to ten after a hot shower when we got to bed. I love how well I sleep in the MoHo, with fresh air, all close and cozy, and wonderful dream time.

Gem of the Cascades Waldo Lake

Tucked away in the Cascades, north of Highway 58, is a lake that is referred to as the “Gem of the Cascades”. Mo and I have thought often about traveling the three hours or so to this beautiful lake to camp, but for many different reasons, we never quite made it until now. Waldo Lake, although truly beautiful, is also very well known for it’s mosquito population. People who know Waldo warn that the only good time to camp there is in late summer and early fall. However, we thought that with a motorhome for protection, and our desire to be out on the water in the kayaks, it wouldn’t be too much for us to handle. Besides, it will give us some good practice for Minnesota and the northern Lake Superior region later this season.

We left by 9 this morning, and made it to the Diamond Lake Junction cafe just in time to savor another fabulous breakfast. The small tables are adorned with handwritten notes from diners all over the country, touting the wonderful food and friendly people who run this tiny, inconspicuous little restaurant. The cook laughed when we shared our “Bigfoot” breakfast and still needed a good sized to-go box for the part we couldn’t finish.

After breakfast, continuing north on HWY 97 to HWY 58 was uneventful, and in no time we were on the forest service road leading north to Waldo. After some internet research, and exploring Google Earth a bit, we determined that the Islet Campground would be our best bet. North Waldo Campground has a boat launching facility, and Shadow Bay at the southern end of the lake is much more thickly vegetated and as it says, shadowy. When we arrived at Islet, much to our surprise, there was only one campsite taken out of the 48 or so available. Some Forest Service workers laughed when we asked why, and told us that the mosquitoes kept most people away, and suggested that we take an open, sunny, and breezy site. This wasn’t a problem, since the campground was empty, and we had great fun picking our perfect spot. By the time we left the next day, there were still only 3 campers in Islet, and maybe a half dozen or so more north of us in the North Waldo Campground. Amazing.

Our site was adjacent to the bike trail along the lake, and just a few hundred feet down a gentle slope to our own little sandy beach. We set up camp, sprayed ourselves down with DEET, and checked out the surroundings. The sky was brilliant, the forest deep and rich. The trees were dominantly Western Hemlock and Shasta Fir, with an understory of dwarf huckleberry, a good indication of the cold moist climate at this high elevation. Our view of Waldo Lake was lovely and we took some time to settle in, relax under the trees in our comfy chairs and appreciate all the perfect amenities of our camp, including a really solid, big picnic table in just the right position by our awning, and a fire circle close by.

We unloaded the bikes, deciding that a bike ride would be better during the sunny afternoon when the mosquitoes would be a bit less aggravating. The trail circles most of the lake for several miles and is a favorite for mountain bikers. Mo and I have mountain bikes, but I don’t think we would qualify as mountain bikers. The first part of the trail was nice, but as it ascended to Taylor Mountain it got a lot rougher, with roots and rocks in the path, and some very winding twists among the huge trees. We rode a little bit beyond the Waldo Campground and then gave up and headed back to camp. Still, it was a nice ride.

The main reason for coming to this lake, of course, was the kayaking, and I was excited to get out on the legendary clear water. Waldo Lake is nestled into volcanic andesite rock, and is the second deepest lake in Oregon, second only to Crater Lake. It is pristine, with some of the purest water in the world, and a recent decision by the forest service to exclude gasoline engines from the lake will help to keep it that way. The lake has no natural inlets to bring in any kind of sediment or pollutants, and fish stocking ceased in 1990. There is very little plant growth, and no algae anywhere. As we paddled along the shore, the views were breathtaking, and the water was as clear as any I have ever seen. The colors reminded me of the Caribbean, with rich deep turquoise and cobalt blues that were nearly impossible to photograph. The wind came up as we headed back across the lake to our camp, and the sheer size of the lake was impressive. It was a truly amazing experience to have this huge lake and pristine forest almost entirely to ourselves.

We arrived back in camp to the mosquitoes waking up and getting busy and ready for dinner. We did the same, and Mo built a nice fire for our steaks, while I started up the generator to quickly bake the potatoes. I didn’t have to worry about disturbing anyone with the noise, at least. Supper was yummy, and we sat for a long time afterward waiting for sunset. Walking south along the trail to get a better view wasn’t such a good idea, since the mosquitoes were incredibly thick and bothersome out along the beach. We went back to camp where I sprayed down heavily and walked down to the beach to watch the sun set behind the mountains.

We woke early to a morning chill, had some tea and little donuts before getting out on the glassy lake. Down on the beach it was a fight between us and the mosquitoes, and I think they could have carried our boats off if they wanted to. We launched and paddled like crazy to get away from them and for a bit I thought it was going to be a losing battle. Once we rounded the jetty, however, the winds picked up and we left the bothersome bugs behind. Again, our paddle was gorgeous, the water incredible, the views of the surrounding mountains magnificent. The pristine clarity comes with a price, however, and we noticed that there were no water birds around anywhere. The entire time we were there, we saw just a tiny little duck family by the boat launch. As much as I loved the clarity, I really missed the birds. Our murky Klamath Lake certainly isn’t as pristine, but it teems with life everywhere.

We decided to dock the boats in the sunny open boat launch area instead of our buggy little beach, so I walked back and got the car and we loaded the boats on top and went back to camp. With the sun up and the breezes rising, the mosquitoes dissipated a bit and we enjoyed a great campfire breakfast.

Our spot at Islet Campground, number 42, was probably the very best spot in the entire area. We hope to go back again sometime in the fall, but have also heard that these camps get very busy when the bug season lets up.

Packing up was a snap, and we left by noon to head for Mo’s brother’s home in LaPine, just a couple of hours away. It was time for the bi-annual family reunion, with kayaking, and bocci ball, golf and bar-b-ques. Our little Waldo Lake overnighter was a great way to start the weekend.

For more photos of Waldo Lake and Islet Campground, click here.

Exploring Pacific City and Lincoln City Day 2

Click here for more photos

Such a leisurely morning! We slept in till 9am, something that never happens at home, and then had a simple cereal breakfast. The weather was sunny and cool, with no fog or rain. Pacific City was north of us, and we wanted to explore it after reading about what a delightful, quiet beach getaway town it was. Once there, we discovered Cape Kiwanda, with its gorgeous beach, and the home of Haystack Rock. Another big attraction there is the fact that you can drive and park down on the beach, and there is a single huge sand dune mountain for climbing and sand sledding. There were many people enjoying the sunny day, but it still didn’t seem too crowded. There were also a lot of dogs enjoying the beach as well. It’s nice to have a place where your dog can be on the beach. So many times when we would go to the beaches in California we couldn’t take Abby. We had a great time walking again, and this time the winds were really blowing, but it was still not terribly cold. This beach is famous for it’s dory launching site, and after watching some dory landings, we read the commemorative plaque about the history of the dories on the Oregon Coast.

After our walk, we explored the Nestucca Bay Wildlife Refuge and looked for other camping and kayaking possibilities. North of Pacific Beach we hunted down some small county campgrounds we found on the internet. They are cheap, quiet, and off the beaten track, but not something we would choose. Woods Campground in Pacific City isn’t much more than a parking lot, and the Wehalin Island Campground was barren and open, with less than a dozen sites. It seemed to be filled with long term campers in vans and tents and wasn’t really very inviting. It was also surrounded by a tidal flat, that might be lovely when the tide was up, but was rather yukky at low tide. These campgrounds are operated by Tillamook County, and for us would be a wide spot in the road to use for emergencies only.

Back to Lincoln City to find Mo’s Chowder House for supper. Of course, we would want to eat at Mo’s! After supper we checked out the flag shop, of which there are several, and bought a wonderful flower whirligig for our campsite. We also put up the chili pepper lights around our awning and hung the wind chimes. Ahh, camping at it’s finest. I did my share of tent camping and ground sleeping, but these days all the little delights of motorhome camping are great. I guess it really isn’t camping, though, but it is wonderful. A couple pulled in next to us this evening in their big Class A, and when I complimented him on his parking skills (these sites are small!) he laughed and we talked about how this really isn’t camping, but it really is fun. Now, the photo on the left may be a bit strange, but I found myself laughing as I realized that it’s hard to live without a “junk drawer”. Even in a motorhome. Doesn’t everyone have one?

Another campfire after our spaghetti supper ended another perfect day at the coast.