05-18-2021 Exploring Oregon’s Outback Scenic Byway

We have traveled parts of the Outback Scenic Byway in the past, but on this trip had a specific set of sites that we wished to see.  Our original plan was to do most of our exploring on Tuesday, but with so much to see we were grateful that we found “Crack-in-the-Ground” on Monday afternoon.  Even so, Tuesday was so full that we had to repeatedly ask ourselves…”Wait…did we do that today or yesterday?”  Yes, we did a LOT on Tuesday.

Knowing we had miles to travel and hikes to find, we were back on Highway 31 by 8:30 AM.  The Tracker was on half a tank of fuel and we wanted to be prepared for anything.  Returning west on the highway to Silver Lake we found the only gas station for miles in either direction.  Leaving Silver Lake we were treated to a wonderful reminder of the dominant lifestyle in this part of Oregon.  Most of the landscape is home to cattle ranches large and small.  Seeing “real” cowboys herding cattle down the middle of the road is rare in many places, but not near Silver Lake.

Continuing north toward “Hole-in-the-Ground” I was grateful that I had downloaded the local google maps to the phone.  It isn’t an easy place to find!  There are no local signs, no directions to speak of, and Mo’s little travel book didn’t help much. 

“Hole-in-the-Ground” is a large maar, an explosion crater caused by red hot magma surging upwards under the Earth’s crust until contacting groundwater. The resulting explosion blew rock and ash into a perfect circle, one mile across. There is a drivable rim road around and two trails down to the center.

From Wikipedia: It is about 1.0 mile (1,600 m) across, a little longer N-S than E-W.[2] Its floor is about 150 meters (490 ft) below the surrounding ground level and has a rim that rises 35 to 65 meters (110 to 210 ft) above, the highest point on the east side. The crater formed during the late Pleistocene, between 13,500 and 18,000 years ago, at which time the Fort Rock Basin was a lake and the location was near the shore. Basaltic magma intruding near the surface flashed ground water to steam, which blew out overlying rock and soil, along with some juvenile material. As material slid into the hole formed, it closed the vent and the process repeated, eventually forming the huge hole.[3] Blocks as large as 26 feet (8 m) in size were flung as far as 2.3 miles (3.7 km) from the crater.[4]

Following google maps, we found a road that appeared to lead northeast toward the crater.  The route suggested ended at a large gate.  We were at the entrance to the Outpost Camp with no clue as to how to get beyond the private land to our location. 

The blue line is one of the suggested routes by Google and the red line is the route we actually found on our own. Zooming in on Google Maps was a bit helpful, but I learned that downloaded maps are only as good as the resolution at which they were downloaded, so things were a bit fuzzy.  We managed to find our way to the edge of the crater without much difficulty.  As we approached the rim, it was amazing to see the crater below us.  Without knowing where it is location, there is no hint at how the featureless ponderosa pine landscape is going to change.

We explored a bit and decided that making an attempt to 4-wheel down into the crater would be fun.  The road was narrow and fairly steep, but the challenge was navigating the large pumice sand humps and deep dips.

Things looked a bit dicey, so I got out and walked the road a bit to see if it got better or worse.  It didn’t look too bad until I saw a big side sloping curve with a very deep sandy hump and decided, nope, not gonna do it!

Mo did the backing as I walked backwards up the steep hill making sure she wasn’t going over the edge.  Some of the humps were so deep that the top of the Tracker disappeared from view!.

Once at the edge of the Crater, we drove a bit along the rim road, and although fairly level, there were large rocks buried in the sandy pumice that Mo had to navigate carefully.  We found a treasure before turning around.

It was a beautiful campsite, with rocks and fences overlooking the crater and there was a birdhouse in a large tree in the center of the site.  If you look closely at the photo, you can see the memorial words for someone who must have loved the spot. “David E Hartley, Forever Enjoy the View”.

After enjoying the views and the drive we returned to Highway 31, turning east toward Fort Rock, another important destination for our visit.  We originally planned to visit Fort Rock on Thursday, when the Fort Rock Homestead Museum would be open.  Thinking better of that plan, we thought that we could visit the Rock this day to hike and see the surrounding area and then return on Thursday when we planned to return  to Grants Pass, passing by the museum location on our way home. 

The “You are here” point on this map is at the information kiosk where we learned about the local geology of the Fort Rock area.

Approaching Fort Rock from the west is fascinating.  It does look ever so much like an old fort.  However, it is simply another great geologic feature in this fascinating volcanic landscape.

Fort Rock is a small basaltic vent that formed a volcanic tuff ring when it first exploded to the surface about 100,000 years ago.  At the time, the surrounding landscape was an inland freshwater sea, up to 300 feet deep that resulted from melting glacial waters that flowed into the area.  Over thousands of years, wave action of the lake eroded the tuff ring’s southwest wall and left terraces along the front and insides of Fort Rock.

We parked at the trailhead and were happy to see that Mattie was allowed on leash on the short 1.2 mile trail that loops through the caldera.  The first part of the trail is a bit steep and rocky, but very quickly it levels out to a nice wide sandy trail with little change in elevation around the loop.

We enjoyed the fragrance of the prolifically blooming bitterbrush and the brilliant colors of Indian paintbrush tucked among the volcanic rocks. 

In some of the lower dips along the trail we found death camas and a tiny desert lily with at least 14 petals that I couldn’t identify or find in any book or on the internet.


The hike was beautiful and easy, with surprising twists and turns that allowed up close viewing of the vents and tuffaceous rocks formed in the explosion of the vent.

We enjoyed the views across the open desert with the brilliant green circle irrigated alfalfa fields in the distance.

By the time we finished our hike, it was still early in the afternoon and we decided to make an attempt to explore some of the back roads of the Fort Rock Area.  Google Maps was only a little bit of help as we attempted to reach the road to the Green Mountain campground from the opposite side that we had tried the previous day when we drove to Crack-In-The-Ground.  We also had our Gazetteer to help with navigation but the scale was a bit too small to help much.  Still, it is a good thing to have some kind of paper map when traveling these back roads where cell service comes and goes and even downloaded Google maps can be sketchy.

We never did make it to the Christmas Valley sand dunes, or the Lost Forest east of the community of Christmas Valley.  The information signs said specifically that high clearance 4 wheel drive vehicles were “ABSOLUTELY” required to navigate those back roads.

We made a few attempts to wander the roads, running into dirt, fences, and no trespassing signs, and some rough gravel before deciding that our adventures were over for the day and it was time to return to the MoHo.  Both of us were ready for a bit of afternoon down time and I looked forward to a late lunch and a snuggle nap with Mattie.

After some time relaxing, we decided that it might be fun to attempt to find the Pictured Rock Pass petroglyphs.  The location was just a little more than 5 miles east of our boondock location on Highway 31, between mile marker 63 and 64.  We were hunting for the marker (which we had missed) when we found a lovely dirt road leading to a beautiful open camp area, perfect for boondocking. Excitedly we drove in and decided to return back to our original site and pick up the MoHo to relocate to what appeared to be a perfect place to spend the night.  We figured we could settle in and then attempt once again to find the petroglyph site.

However, as we backtracked once to the site, we discovered that our dirt road leading to our new boondock location was the one we had missed the first time around.  We were right at the petroglyph site!  Unbelievably I had internet at this remote location and found the coordinates for the petroglyph on a website.  There are no signs pointing the way, and the coordinates are for the beginning of the trail, not the actual location of the rock.  I think this may be on purpose to discourage vandalism.

After a bit of hiking and hunting and wrong turns, we found the rock.  There is a “fake” petroglyph, obviously carved recently on a nearby boulder that could confuse people.  Once we found the actual ancient petroglyphs. we were so tickled and took photos of where the rock is in relation to the highway.  It faces the opposite direction and it is very easy to walk right past it without realizing that you are looking at it.

I have chosen not to post the coordinates of the rock that I took when we found it, or the photos pinpointing the exact location in order to adhere to the thought of protecting the site.  If interested, email me directly for the information .

The petroglyphs have been dated at between 7,500 to 10,000 years ago, when ancient peoples traveled this area. The famous Paisley Caves, which are from the same era of human habitation are not too far from this site.   Again, from Wikipedia:

The Paisley Caves complex is a system of four caves in an arid, desolate region of south-central Oregon, United States north of the present-day city of Paisley, Oregon. The caves are located in the Summer Lake basin at 4,520 feet (1,380 m) elevation and face to the west in a ridge of Miocene and Pliocene era basalts mixed with soft volcanic tuffs and breccias, from which the caves were carved by Pleistocene-era waves from Summer Lake. One of the caves may contain archaeological evidence of the oldest definitively-dated human presence in North America. The site was first studied by Luther Cressman in the 1930s.

Scientific excavations and analysis since 2002 have uncovered substantial new discoveries. These include materials with the oldest DNA evidence of human habitation in North America. The DNA, radiocarbon dated to 14,300 years ago, was found in subfossil human coprolites uncovered in the Paisley Five Mile Point Caves in south-central Oregon.[2] The caves were added to the National Register of Historic Places in 2014.[3]

After our very rewarding hike, we settled into an even more rewarding evening at one of the better boondocking sites we have experienced. 

There was a lovely fire ring, and a beautiful sunset accompanied the perfect evening.  Marshmallows topped off the night before we retired.  Once again it was a dark and quiet night.

Checking the weather on the less than perfect internet was exciting.  We had planned to visit Summer Lake the next day, possibly camping at Ana Reservoir RV Park, or returning to our perfect boondock site.  The weather wasn’t cooperating, with 3 to 5 inches of snow and a winter weather warning for most of the area around Summer Lake, Christmas Valley, Silver Lake, and most of east central Oregon.

Now what?!


05-17-2021 May Trip to the Oregon High Desert

The high deserts of Eastern Oregon are beautiful, wide open and wild.  They are definitely not warm in winter, with cold winds and snow.  We knew that by mid May, however, the weather might cooperate with our need to camp in a wide open dry landscape with views that go on forever. 

Mo has a great little travel book for things to see and do in Oregon.  In that book she found some interesting things for us to explore. Something we haven’t done in the past is visit a place called “Crack-In-The-Ground”.  Located on a lava flow in an area east of La Pine and north of Klamath Falls, Crack-In-The-Ground is just one of several interesting places to visit.  Although Mo had seen Fort Rock located in the same vicinity, I have never been there, and Mo found another not well known spot called “Hole in the Ground”. 

Between our trip to the coast in April, and this little desert trip, Mo and I settled in at home to enjoy the lovely springtime weather here in Grants Pass.  I enjoy Fall, but my most favorite time of year at this time in my life is the technicolor spring of Southern Oregon.  What I call “green leaf day” happened this year on April 17, just before we left for our last outing to Nehalem State Park with the family. 

Even though we are only 300 feet higher in elevation than the Rogue River valley floor where downtown Grants Pass is located, our green leaf day is several days behind.  I can drive down to town and see leaves popping and back up the hill to our home, they still remain hidden. 

April is filled with daffodils, tulips, forsythia and flowering plums.  By the end of the month the crabapples, cherries and dogwoods are blooming.  In May the rhodies come out in full force, the lilacs bloom early in the month, and some of the most springtime lime green leaves are turning darker and greener.  That lime green moment is so ephemeral. 

In spite of all the lush green lawns and colorful flowers and trees, we miss the desert.  Not that I would want to live there, but we both love to travel to the deserts.  Usually we manage a trip south in January or February, but thanks to COVID that didn’t happen this year.  It didn’t seem very smart to travel to an area with high infection rates at that time.  From what I hear from fellow bloggers, the Arizona deserts were rather chilly and windy this year.  There wasn’t much of a flower bloom either, thanks to the ongoing drought. 

Planning our desert fix was fun, and I looked forward to dark, quiet desert nights with the smell of sage and juniper to accompany the brilliant starlite. We decided that we would attempt to spend three or four days boondocking in a part of Oregon we have traveled, but not spent a great deal of time visiting in depth. 

Leaving around 9 on Monday morning, we traveled east over the Cascades toward Rocky Point and Chiloquin where we fueled up, making sure we had enough fuel to boondock.  We only got caught with less than a quarter tank of gas once in our travels, many years ago attempting to boondock at Joshua Tree NP.  We know now to be extra certain that we have plenty of fuel before parking, or the generator will refuse to operate when there is less than a quarter tank of gas remaining in the MoHo.  I guess it is a smart safety feature so you don’t end up using all your fuel and then being stuck without gas out in the middle of nowhere.

It was early afternoon when we arrived at the junction of Highway 31 and Old Lake Road, which leads north into Christmas Valley and on to the “Crack-in-the-Ground ”.  I had reviewed the google maps extensively and was reasonably certain that were several nice wide dirt places in the road with old fire pits that would serve us well for a boondock site.  What I didn’t see was that the road leading to Crack in the Ground included a few miles of washboard gravel, and then some seriously rough dirt roads that required high clearance. 

We managed to unhook the Tracker to get turned around, and decided to travel back to the junction at Highway 31 where there was plenty of space for parking the MoHo before returning with the Tracker to the rough road north.

It was getting a bit late in the afternoon when we finally made it to the trailhead for Crack-in-the-Ground .  Warm temperatures and clear skies made for great walking and Mattie got to run off leash.  There was a single car in the parking area but we never saw the occupants, no doubt they were hiking deep into the crack.

Crack-in-the-Ground is a volcanic fissure originally formed during an eruption in a lava field dated between 12,000 and 700,000 years ago, give or take a few. The fissure is nearly 2 miles long and averages about 30 feet deep, but in some places is as deep as 70 feet.  We read that the trail is “great” with only 70 feet or so of elevation throughout. The trail to the fissure was just a quarter mile or so, but once we arrived at the “Crack”  we were a bit daunted by the complex jumble of boulders at the entrance.

Mo decided it was a bit too much for her weak knee and ankle, so waited at the top with Mattie while I attempted to explore a bit deeper.  Even with both walking sticks, my crazy weak legs couldn’t handle the big step drops at the bottom of the crack. 

Still, I got down far enough to get a few photos and experience how dark and spooky it could be to hike the entire two miles with no way out except back.  There are bats and other critters down there, and I heard some strange screeching. 

In days past, Mo and I would have hiked that trail, but lately our rock clambering abilities have been severely limited.  Still, it was a great thing to see, even just walking along the top and looking down.  Very nearly impossible to photograph since the crack was so dark and the sunlight at the top was so very bright. 

It was great to walk in the dry sage and juniper desert.  Mattie was so very excited at this first outing that we had to keep a close eye on her, because she wanted to run ahead and stick her head into whatever smelly hole in the ground caught her fancy.  Not good, even if is wasn’t a snake, getting bitten by some other kind of critter wouldn’t be a good thing for her.  Mo finally had to put her on the leash for the last bit of the walk.

At the parking area there is a vault toilet, and plenty of space where I had thought we might camp if we had been able to get the MoHo back on that road.  I read later that RV camping isn’t allowed there.  We had no desire to brave six more miles of rough road to the BLM campground farther north at Green Mountain. 

By the time we got back to the MoHo parked at the site along the highway, the road crews were gone, the big rig that had been parked there earlier in the day had departed, and we had the entire wide open area completely to ourselves.  Even at this remote site I still had Verizon cell service and was able to get some internet to check weather for the next few days.  Things were going to shift, but at least we knew for sure that we had one more day of warm sunshine to explore in the desert.

03-01-2021 A Birthday Bridge Bash for Mo

Before I go much farther, I need to mention that “Mo” is Sharon O Sligar.  That nickname has been around for almost 20 years, bestowed on her by my sister for some complex reasons.  The name stuck, mostly because Mo likes it.  She said the other day to someone who asked, “Yes, my given name is Sharon, but many friends know me as Mo.  I like that nickname”.

With our southern desert sojourn postponed indefinitely, I asked Mo what she might want to do for her birthday.  Dinner out?  Oops…maybe not yet.  A cake?  Nah, she isn’t particularly a cake lover.  Maybe a pie. 

Yesterday afternoon she presented me with a plan.  She has “A Guidebook to Places of Special Interest: Southern Oregon and Northern California”, published by the Medford Mail Tribune way back in 1992.  Reviewing some of the local interesting spots we might have missed, she decided that a round trip drive to the 5 covered bridges in Josephine and Jackson counties was what she wanted to do to celebrate her day.

We have visited 4 of these 5 bridges in the past, and both of us thought that it would be fun to follow the back roads listed in the guidebook and photograph all the bridges on the same day.  Some of you may remember our covered bridge trip in other parts of Oregon that we did in 2012.  On that camping adventure we spent several days driving to more than 40 bridges, but we didn’t visit the bridges in our own local area.

Springtime is close here at Sunset House, but the mornings are still frosty and often foggy. No worries, however, with predictions for a sunny day ahead it was perfect weather for a drive.  Following the directions in Mo’s book, I mapped out a somewhat reasonable route for us to get to all 5 bridges in a day.  It was basically a big circle with a couple of extended arms.

After perusing the route and checking timing for traveling in a clockwise or counterclockwise direction, we decided to visit the Grave Creek Bridge early in the day.  We have seen this bridge before, on a sunny morning in early March in 2018. I never blogged our visit, but we both remember it well for the sweet man working on the bridge who told us many stories about the local area.  He especially loved working on the covered bridges.

Here is the photo I finally found from our visit in 2018

Here is a bit of a funny story about the photos of that day.  I somehow lost them.  Not on my computer, not in Google Photos, not in Lightroom or uploaded to my extensive galleries on SmugMug.  I couldn’t figure it out.  Finally, I searched our calendar and came up with the day of our visit, and searching my Facebook uploads I found 5 photos of that morning.  I had tons of photos both before and after in my galleries online and on the computer.  For once, the facebook uploads saved a memory that might have been lost if I hadn’t posted it.  Rather amazing.  Although the process took an entire hour out of my blog writing time this morning!

The Grave Creek Bridge is in Sunny Valley, about 15 miles north of Grants Pass, and can be seen from Interstate 5. It has six gothic style windows on either side, concrete abutments, a Howe truss, rounded portals and a shake roof. It is quite a lovely bridge, with views of the creek below.  The old wooden river crossing is the last covered bridge on the north-south Pacific Highway system. It was built in 1920 in just four months. When Interstate 5 was built nearby, ownership and maintenance of the Sunny Valley Loop Road, which includes Grave Creek Bridge, passed to Josephine County.
In the late 1990s, the bridge was closed to traffic and was reopened in 2001 after repairs to the approaches and housing.

In 1846 the first emigrant train from Fort Hall, Idaho, to travel the southern route to the Willamette Valley camped on the north side of this creek, then Woodpile Creek. Martha Leland Crowley, 16 years old died of typhoid fever during this encampment and was buried 150 feet north of the creek on the east side of a white oak tree that was later removed for the present roadway, Thus the name “Grave Creek”.

The nearby Applegate Trail Interpretive Center provides a first hand look into the local area, history, fabulous displays, theatre & more. Sadly it was closed both times that we visited the bridge. There are many local museums that are closed due to COVID.  Someday we may have to return and visit.

The design is “Covered Howe through truss”.  After our previous covered bridge explorations, we enjoy paying attention to the different types of construction and trusses.
Length of largest span: 105.0 ft. Total length: 220.2 ft. Deck width: 18.4 ft. Vertical clearance above deck: 15.0 ft.

We parked on the south side of the bridge, and I walked through taking a photo of Mo driving through in the car.  We then parked on the north side of the bridge, trying to figure out where the buildings from the old town site shown on the information panels were located.  Seems as though they are all now gone, with nothing but open fields  and a few newer houses to mark what was once the small village of Fort Leland.

Returning to the interstate, we drove south over Sexton Pass toward Grants Pass and on to Rogue River.  Even though the skies were clear, at the approximately 1900 foot elevation at the summit, we saw a lot of smoke throughout the valley where Grants Pass sits along the Rogue River.  It seems that sunny clear days are often burn days this time of year, and burning is a very popular option for rural folks.

As long as we have lived in this area, we have never traveled the road north from Rogue River along Evans Creek toward the tiny hamlet of Wimer. It was surprising to discover this rural broad valley that is just over the ridge from I-5 and our Valley of the Rogue. 

When we arrived at the bridge, we drove through the bridge to the north side where it seems that everyone living in that area congregated.  The little store and gas station were both busy, and with 5 roads coming to the intersection at the bridge. It seemed as though most everyone knew each other, hollering “hi”from their trucks. We were definitely the outsiders.  Parking was limited but we took a spot in a wide place across from the store to explore the bridge.  It was a bit scary to walk back across the bridge to the park.  This bridge has no pedestrian pathway.

The Winer Bridge was saved from destruction when local residents battled to initiate a rebuilding of the weakened structure in 1962. Community members insist that the original bridge was built in 1892, and a sign posted on the bridge claims title to that date.  The Hartmen Brothers, bridge builders of Jacksonville, replaced the Wimer Bridge in 1927.

I didn’t learn that the Wimer Bridge had collapsed in 2003 until I began writing this blog!  The following is from a website about the bridge:

“On a hot summer afternoon, in the quiet community of Wimer, Oregon, local residents were startled to hear a giant crashing sound coming from the vicinity of their covered bridge. Customers at the Wimer Market, only a dozen paces away, rushed out to witness the unthinkable. The historic Wimer Covered Bridge in Southern Oregon had spontaneously collapsed into Evans Creek. Those who were the closest also heard shouts for help coming from inside the rubble and scampered down the bank, over the shattered shingled roof and lifted broken wooden beams to rescue a man and his two young grandsons. They were the last persons to stroll through the old covered bridge on that fateful Sunday.

The July 6, 2003 incident shocked and saddened a community. The weekly Rogue River Press expressed what many residents felt with the simple headline in its next issue: “It’s Gone!”
Ironically, the covered bridge was scheduled for a major overhaul. Engineers had completed blue prints just two months earlier and the construction project was to go out for bid in September that year. Jackson County had acquired grants for over a half million dollars for the renovation that was due to begin in 2004. But the tired old structure couldn’t wait and gave way in mid stream. Obviously, there has been a change in plans.”

Originally Built 1892, Rebuilt 1927, Rebuilt 1962, Collapsed 2003, Rebuilt 2008
with “covered through trusses”. Length of largest span: 86.0 ft., Total length: 170.9 ft., Deck width: 17.1 ft., Vertical clearance 10.1 ft.

We walked back through the bridge to the tiny park on the south side along Evans Creek.  Mattie had a chance to run around a bit and we found a very sketchy restroom that served well enough in an emergency.

Our next bridge on the loop was a considerable distance south and east in the town of Eagle Point.  We have been to Eagle Point by way of Sams Valley many times. However, we had never followed the narrow back mountain road along East Evans Creek through the Sams Valley. 

The road was narrow and twisty in some places, with larger ranches scattered throughout the landscape and many large “grows” visible along the narrow valley adjacent to the creek.  It was a pretty drive, and we were especially glad that we made the decision to do this part of the tour in the early part of the day rather than later in the afternoon ad would have been the case if we had chosen a counter clockwise route.

Crossing Dodge Bridge at the Rogue River we thought about having a picnic, but the fee to enter seemed silly and there were dogs and people around the few picnic tables.  Instead, we continued toward Eagle Point and the third bridge of the day.

The Antelope Creek Bridge is sometimes called the Butte Creek Bridge, and is just a block or so south of the beautiful old Butte Creek Mill which burned on Christmas morning in 2015.  People are continuing to make donations toward restoration of the old mill, but even after all these years, the site smelled like fire.

We parked near the bridge, across the street from a charming little town square and a big bright mural on a well lit southern facing wall with no parking in front of it.  Mural photographers will know just how hard it is to find conditions like this when trying to photograph murals.

The Antelope Creek Bridge originally spanned Antelope Creek some 10 miles southeast of Eagle Point. In August 1987, the structure was loaded onto a makeshift trailer and volunteers hauled it to the city of Eagle Point. When the bridge was rebuilt at the new site, arched openings were cut into each side so school children could be watched as they crossed the span. This alteration caused the bridge to be removed from the National Register of Historic Places.
Since then, the bridge has been re-sided in a fashion that represents the original design. Now only ribbon openings appear under the eves.

Construction is with Queenpost through trusses over Little Butte Creek on the Pedestrian Path in Eagle Point. Length of the largest span is 58.0 ft.

After visiting the bridge we decided we really wanted a place to rest a bit and enjoy our picnic lunch.  Driving through town, we discovered a fairly new city park, Lucas Park.  The bathrooms were new and spotless, with picnic tables scattered around the large grassy play area.  There were several families with young children playing on the kid toys and we watched a young woman with a baby in a stroller completing many laps of what looked to be a quarter mile paved pathway.

We sat for some time in the sun enjoying our lunch and watching people playing and visiting.  It felt like normal life pre COVID.  It was outdoors, and no one had on a mask.  I felt like I was in some kind of twilight zone!. Little kids were roller blading and scootering around the path and moms were putting kids in and out of strollers and laughing with their friends.

The next bridge on our tour required us to travel east on Highway 140, the familiar route we would take when returning from Medford to our prior home in Rocky Point.  The Lake Creek district is visible from the highway and the Lost Creek Bridge is several miles toward the mountains along Lake Creek and Lost Creek.  It is a lovely area of ranches with some historic buildings in what was once a small community.

Note that the little dog at our feet is NOT Mattie.  We had to leave Mattie in the car when two farm dogs came running toward us when we parked.  This little girl was insistent that she be a part of our photo.

We have visited Lost Creek Bridge in the past as well, and once again, I cannot find any photographic record of the visit.  I even remember taking photos of the old buildings and of daffodils by the bridge, so surely it was in the springtime.

The Lost Creek Bridge, at only 39 feet long, is the shortest of all Oregon covered bridges. Since 1979, the structure has been closed to traffic.

Many Jackson County residents, including Shirley Stone, daughter of pioneer John Walch, claim the Lost Creek Bridge to have been built as early as 1878-1881. If authenticated, this would make it Oregon’s oldest standing covered bridge. Johnny Miller, the builder of the Lost Creek Bridge, also roofed the nearby span at Lake Creek in the 1880s, thus lending credence to a sign nailed on the bridge: LOST CREEK BRIDGE, BUILT ABOUT 1881. The span may have been partially or totally rebuilt in 1919, hence the official construction date in that year.

Features of the bridge include the usual county Queenpost truss design, a shingle roof and flying buttress braces. The rough wooden flooring consists of diagonal planking, and hand hewn truss members provide structural stability. A new roof was installed by local residents in 1985. Portal boards were added in 1986, restoring the look of the span in 1920 before accommodations were made for log truck traffic.

The Walch Memorial Wayside Park abuts the bridge site. Descendants of John and Marie Newsome Walch built and maintain the park, which includes picnic tables, a bandstand, cooking areas, an early 1900s outhouse, and manicured flower gardens.

The bridge was nearly lost in the 1964 Christmas flood. As swirling waters and heavy debris lashed at its piers,residents and concerned bridge enthusiasts prayed during the night that the bridge would be saved. According to a local newspaper, the skies opened and the water receded as morning came. The journalist questioned, “Was the bridge saved by prayer?”

The final bridge we wanted to see was in the southern part of Jackson County.  Our route required traveling more than 50 miles through Central Point, the outskirts of Medford, the town of Jacksonville and the community of Ruch toward the Applegate.  Nothing new along the way for us as we have traveled these routes for years.  We thought maybe we could stop for an early supper in Jacksonville where inside dining was supposedly allowed this week.  However, it was only 3:30 when we reached Jacksonville and we were still full from our late lunch.

Instead we continued south along the Applegate River toward the McKee Bridge.  I do have photos of our visit to this bridge back in 2011, when we made a day trip from Rocky Point for a picnic.  Abby was with us on that day and one of the photos I took of her is still a favorite.

The rustic, well-known covered bridge spanning the Applegate River, just eight miles from the California border, was built in 1917 by contractor Jason Hartman and his son Wesley on land donated by Aldelbert “Deb” McKee. The bridge was used from 1917 to 1956, originally serving the mining and logging traffic.

In 1956, the bridge was declared unsafe for vehicular traffic. The combined efforts, in 1965, of the Talisman Lodge, Knights of Pythias, Upper Applegate Grange, and the Jackson County Court restored the roof, thereby keeping the aging structure open for pedestrian use. Little upkeep followed, and by the early 1980s County officials were worried about the strength of the bridge. During the summer of 1985, more than $40,000 in labor and materials were dedicated to repair the bridge and keep it open for pedestrians. Jackson County officials then announced that future County investment in the bridge would be impractical, and has looked to private efforts for ongoing preservation of the McKee span.

The McKee Committee was formed in January 1989 with the goal of raising $25,000 for preservation and maintenance of the span. By mid summer, a major portion of the funds, or volunteer labor, had been generated. Included in the final fund-raising was the sale of memorabilia and the production of an historic quilt featuring a bridge motif.

Features of the Mckee Bridge include a Howe truss design, flying buttresses, open daylighting windows at the roofline, and a shingle roof. Lindsay Applegate, for whom the stream is named, prospected the area on the way to the mines in California. The discovery of prosperous mines caused a north-south route to be developed in the area, and the covered bridge was used as a rest stop, until 1919, because it was halfway between Jacksonville and the Blue Ledge Cooper Mine to the south. Length of the largest span is 122 feet.

The picnic area next to the bridge is quite lovely, with a large gazebo with picnic tables and a big fireplace.  Surprisingly there is an old upright piano in the gazebo and I had to give it a try.  Neither Mo nor I could figure out how a piano could be left outdoors in the heat and humidity and winter cold without getting completely ruined.  When I played it a bit, I understood.  The sound was tinny and terribly out of tune, so much so that Mattie averted her head when I started playing.

By the time we left the park and began the long journey back home through the Applegate Valley, we were both fairly worn out.  I was glad Mo was driving.  There was no birthday dinner and no birthday cake or pie waiting when we got home.  Instead we got out the fixings for tacos that we enjoyed the evening before and had a perfectly delicious meal, right at home, ready in about 5 minutes from fridge to table.

Mo said she didn’t mind in the least and that her birthday had been especially satisfying.


02-13-2021 Three People Traveling in the MoHo

Once again we headed for a coast, but this time instead of the Oregon Coast our destination was the Northern California coast.  For the first time in the 13 years we have been traveling in this MoHo (not counting the two prior years in the baby MoHo) we had a guest traveling with us.

My eldest daughter Deborah often visits on Sunday mornings.  She only lives an hour away and comes to spend some time with us and with her son who lives across the street from us.  Especially in this time of COVID she and her son are part of our “bubble” and the visits provide a sweet interlude.  On one such visit, as we were talking about our upcoming travels, we came to a great idea.  Deb has been working from home, has had her first vaccination, and has lots of leave accumulated that she needed to use.  In moments, we decided that a joint trip in the MoHo would be a great way for her to use her leave.

It was in 2013, three years after purchasing the MoHo, that Mo and I had the large sofabed replaced with a comfy dining booth with seats that make down into a reasonably comfortable bed.  In all that time, except for when it was first installed, we have never used the bed.  Mo and I tested it before this trip to be sure we remembered how to convert the booth to a bed and packed a large cushy sleeping bag for Deborah. 

On this Saturday morning we woke to rain, but we had been following the weather and knew this would be the case.  Predictions for our six days on the road indicated rough weather for most of the trip.  Undaunted, we didn’t even consider trying to reschedule.  Changing dates is easy for us as retired folks, but not so easy for my working girl.  Besides, we were all excited for the trip.  Deborah works hard, has a partner who is disabled, so doesn’t get away very often. 

The predictions for the weekend included rain and snow over some of the passes, including sections of Highway 199 that is our route to the coast from Grants Pass.  The predictions were just a bit off, thank goodness, with temperatures on our route remaining in the low 40’s and no snow except on the mountains around us.

For Deborah, the winding road along the cliffs bordering the Smith River was thrilling, with waterfalls cascading down the mountainsides at every turn, and the Smith at the highest level we had seen yet in our years of traveling this route.

When we began the trip, I prayed to the travel angels to be with us and let it be a memorable time for Deborah with no glitches.  The first day out lived up to every expectation in spite of the rain.  As we approached Jedediah Smith State Park the rain stopped and there were a few moments of sunshine peeking through the clouds.  It was Deborah’s first visit to the redwoods.

We parked the MoHo and took the Tracker on the park roads.  The campground had recently opened and the day use area was easily accessible.  The Smith River was running high and wild and people were fishing along the bank. The park road meanders beyond the river to a place where we know there is a very large tree and a little bit of a wide place in the road to park. 

We stopped, the sun came out again, and we enjoyed taking photos of the huge tree that seems to draw us each time we visit this area.  I have photos of Nickie and Jimmy and Erin and Mui at this same tree.  I used the opportunity to teach Deborah how to do vertical panoramas with her phone the same way Erin taught me at exactly the same location.

Leaving the park, we continued on the Redwood Highway toward Crescent City, with the mist making the redwoods even more mysterious. 

Once again the travel angels were with us, bringing out a bit of sunshine and letting up on the rain as we parked at our favorite Chart Room to order fish and chips to go.  The dining room was open for inside dining, since numbers in Del Norte county are down.  Deb and I looked inside and it felt claustrophobic even though people were spaced well. 

Sticking to our “to go” plan, we ordered our fish and took it back to the comfy warm MoHo for a perfectly fabulous lunch.  The servings are huge and we knew that there would be plenty for our early lunch and for dinner once again when we got settled into our park in Eureka.

Leaving Crescent City, we traveled along the coastal highway 101 through misty rain.  At a location about 20 miles south of town there was a traffic stop due to a huge slide that was being repaired. 

As we were parked waiting for our turn to pass, we saw large amounts of mountainside continuing to slide toward the road. UhOh.  We were lucky to get through, and learned later in the afternoon that Highway 101 had been closed at that slide after we passed.  Thank you again, Travel Angels!!

Checking the map, we decided to take a short alternate route south for about ten miles that meanders through the Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park.  For reasons I cannot explain, in all our trips south on this route, Mo and I have never stopped at this state park.  It was gorgeous with huge groves of trees that seemed even taller due to the steep slopes on either side of the road.  We parked at the closed visitor center where Mo took Mattie for a walk in the meadows and Deborah and I ventured onto a short trail where dogs weren’t allowed.

For Deborah, it was even more fascinating to be up close to the big trees in the beautiful groves along the trail. I had the camera and the phone, but Deb was the one snapping away with her phone.  I think she had more than 1000 photos when we returned at the end of the trip.  It isn’t easy getting good shots in the dark woods, but between the two of us we managed a few good ones.

The rain held off again for our short hike, and only started up when we got back on the road.  By the time we reached Eureka, the rain stopped long enough for us to enjoy an easy setup at Shoreline RV Park, right on the edge of town close to Highway 101.

I think Deborah got a kick out of watching Mo and I do the unhook/setup thing since she hadn’t experienced it before this trip.  We take it for granted and are pretty quick at the shared process after so many years traveling together.

Mo and I have stayed at this park in the past.  It is convenient and close to town for exploring areas around Eureka, but not particularly exciting, with sites spaced fairly close together. Still, it was for only 2 nights and the main purpose of staying at this park was to have close proximity to Eureka and Samoa.

The biggest surprise of the evening happened when Deb and I decided to take Mattie for a walk and after crossing under the highway on a paved pathway found ourselves on the beautiful Eureka Waterfront Trail.  Completed in 2018 and meandering along the salt marshes of Humboldt Bay the trail was a complete surprise.  Reading about the concept and construction of the trail was wonderful.  The project is beautiful and a great accomplishment for the city of Eureka.

There were many interpretive signs along the paved path and long boardwalk.  We also enjoyed the creative benches scattered along the way, although it was too dark to get good photos of any of them

We walked much farther than we planned and it was dark when we returned to the MoHo.  Mo was getting a bit worried about what happened to us, and it hadn’t occurred to me to take a phone with me to explain why we were gone so long. After all, we were just taking the dog for a short potty break when we started out.

After our left-over fish dinner we settled in to watch a little bit of TV.  Seems as though the park now uses some kind of cable box for TV that requires plugging in a bunch of stuff to the TV. Ours is installed behind the wall and we have no easy access to the back of the TV without removing screws and such.  Instead we once again decided to try the mirror casting capability of the phone.  That wasn’t very successful at this park because there were so many rigs so close to us that the phone kept trying to cast to several tv’s that weren’t ours.  Funny stuff! 

It only took a few minutes to shuffle things around a bit for Deborah to make down her bed. We settled in for the night listening to the rain on the roof of the rig, a wonderfully soothing sound for all of us. 

11-24 to 11-27-2020 Bandon Thanksgiving and a night at Harris Beach

Don’t forget that you can click on any photo if you wish to see if full resolution in my gallery

Site A47 had more privacy than we
expected

Between the time we made our reservation and our trip to the coast, COVID numbers began rising in Oregon and the governor once again shut down restaurants for indoor dining.  One of the reasons we chose Bandon over Brookings for this trip was to have an opportunity to spend some time in the little shops and restaurants that make Bandon so charming.  The weather forecast was for rain most of the week, so we wanted to have other things to do than walk the beach.

We traveled north via I-5 toward Roseburg and turned west toward the coast via Highway 42.  However, instead of following the Google Girl directions to stay on Highway 42 all the way to HWY 101 and then back south, we thought the quicker route along 42 S made more sense.  In hindsight, Google Girl sometimes gets it right and we don’t.  I spent most of the time hanging on while Mo navigated the very narrow, very winding road toward Bandon.  It was not fun for me, but I think it might have been for her.  She used to drive a TR7 among other sports cars.

Don’t try this route in a motorhome

It rained a bit along the way, but the afternoon was dry enough that we had time to enjoy a walk along the beach after we settled into our site.

The campground is about a mile from easy beach access at the Coquille River Lighthouse


We were a bit disappointed in the condition of the lighthouse

Adjacent to the town of Bandon, the Coquille River empties into the Pacific Ocean. The river extends inland a great distance and was a natural link to the virgin stands of timber in the area, but the bar at the mouth of the river, formed by the interaction of the river and ocean, was a major obstacle for ships entering the river. At times, only a few feet of water would cover the bar, but vessels still attempted to navigate the river in hopes of reaping the rewards that lay upstream. In 1880, Congress passed a bill funding the construction of a jetty on the south side of the river’s entrance that created a deep channel, resulting in a rapid rise in the number of ships entering the river.

A lighthouse at the entrance to Coquille River was the next logical step for improving navigation. Congress appropriated $50,000 for the project on March 3, 1891, but it would be four years before land was purchased, plans were solidified, and the construction crew was assembled.

In 1939, the Coast Guard assumed responsibility for Coquille River Lighthouse and decided it was no longer needed. An automated beacon was placed at the end of the south jetty, the dwelling was disassembled, and the lighthouse was abandoned. The lighthouse stood neglected for twenty-four years, until Bullards Beach State Park was created on the north side of the river. The grounds of the original eleven-acre light station were included in the park, and the park assumed responsibility for the lighthouse.

Over the years there have been several attempts at restoration, since park funding isn’t sufficient to maintain the old lighthouse.  In normal years, the lighthouse tower is open for visitation from May through September, however at the moment the old lighthouse looked quite sad.

The air smelled so incredibly fresh, and the surf was loud enough that we could hear it in camp across the dunes at least half a mile from the beach where we were camped. 

There were high tide and surf warnings posted for the next couple of days so one evening we drove through town in the dark to the south jetty where we could watch the huge noisy waves breaking over the jetty rocks.  Lots of warnings for “sneaker waves” kept me alert and when a big one came roaring in I immediately jumped back into the car.

It rained off and on that first night and the next morning dawned cloudy and wet. We settled into the MoHo for a cozy morning before driving the a mile south to Bandon to explore the small town.  The rain came and went all day, usually with a downpour at just the moment we would head for the car after visiting a shop.  About half the shops in town were open, with masks and social distancing, and we especially enjoyed the beautiful Second Street Gallery, Winter River Bookstore, and the Coastal Mist Chocolate Boutique, where we had two tiny cups of creamy drinking chocolate, to go of course. 

This photo is from last year when there was still inside service

The rain poured down as we ran to the car with our little cups of chocolate. I also purchased my first ever macaron (not a macaroon).  I wasn’t impressed, although I do think that maybe the high humidity at the ocean makes it hard to make a light crispy meringue cookie. Who knows.  I don’t have to try again.

We then meandered around the famous Cranberry Sweets.  The store has been in Bandon for more than 50 years and specializes in all sorts of cranberry confections.  I learned that more cranberries are grown around Bandon than anywhere else in the west. Although Bandon is referred to as “The Cranberry Capitol of the World”, more research informed me that most cranberries come from Wisconsin and Massachusetts. Five states grow almost all of the country’s supply of cranberries with Wisconsin producing more than half of all cranberries in the US.  Massachusetts harvests another third, and New Jersey, Oregon, and Washington produce most of the rest.  So much for “Cranberry Capitol”.

Still, the shop was charming and old fashioned, with lots of candies and confections behind the counters.  The hostess told me that they usually had lots of samples around the shop but due to COVID we had to settle for a little bag of free stuff. 

I decided it was time to get some fish and chips to go and tried out Tony’s Crab Shack where I was politely told that Tony didn’t fry ANYTHING, and perhaps I might like to try to fish tacos. Made with fresh caught crab and halibut, they were delicious.  Everything in town was take-out only, with all the restaurants closed for inside seating. We returned home in the pouring rain and it continued to rain all night long.  Funny how wonderful rain on the roof of a motorhome can sound, especially when accompanied by the roar of the ocean.  Great for a good night’s sleep!

The next morning was Thanksgiving, and we woke to beautiful clear skies.  I had precooked much of our dinner, and simply had to reheat the turkey, bake the sweet potato, mash the potatoes, cook a pot of Stove-Top stuffing, and open a jar of gravy.  It wasn’t gourmet, but was completely and totally delicious for the two of us and our socially distanced Thanksgiving dinner.

On our first day in camp I discovered the tsunami evacuation trail.  The path is narrow with signs leading to an area high on a heavily timbered hill behind the campground where people are instructed to assemble if the tsunami warning horns go off.  It would do no good to attempt to drive out of the campground in that situation since most of the highway is in the tsunami zone.

It was a lovely little trail, with moist moss, and lots of mushrooms in the duff under the trees. 

On this beautiful morning it was a perfect time to share the trail with Mo.  Mattie loved the trail and we enjoyed walking in a place where there were no dogs or people around.  Mattie gets so excited when she sees other dogs and always wants to “play”.  That entails lots of energy and training time, trying to get her to sit and calm down.  Walking around the campground can be challenging sometimes when all I want is a nice simple walk.  The trail was perfect for that.

It was surprising how full the campground was on this holiday weekend.  By the time Thursday rolled around, all sites were full and everyone seemed to be having a great time celebrating.  We even saw an outdoor TV broadcasting a football game. 

After our early afternoon dinner we went for another great beach walk, and were amazed that the weather was so perfect.  There was very little wind and the temps must have been in the 50’s.  Beautiful day. 

Home again to the MoHo where after many years of hearing about it, I actually figured out how to cast the phone to the TV with the included app on my Samsung phone.  We turned on Netflix on the phone, and with our unlimited Verizon plan we were able to watch movies and even live television on the big TV with the right apps.  My daughter Deanna told me about this capability a long time ago, but I never managed to figure it out until this trip. On a chilly evening having some TV was great entertainment.  The Verizon signal in the park was perfectly adequate to stream a movie.

Bullard’s Beach State Park has some beautiful picnic areas

On Friday morning we took our time with a lazy breakfast, a little bit of news, and some reading time before packing up.  Checkout time wasn’t until 1PM, and we only had a little over two hours to travel along the coast south toward Brookings and Harris Beach State Park.  I didn’t make a reservation for Harris Beach, thinking that winter on the coast would be open without a problem.  We planned to arrive around 2 in plenty of time to snag an open site before evening.  Things have changed in the camping world!  When we arrived the park was completely full except for one site, the only ADA site in the park, number 37 in the B loop.

I must say I was grateful for once to have my little blue disability card to hang from our windshield.  We settled in to enjoy our last evening on the beach and Mo built a nice big campfire.  Only problem with the campfire is that the ADA site has a very tall metal fire ring, I suppose so that it is safer.  It took a very long time to get that metal warm and I spent campfire time in LOTS of clothes and blankets trying to warm up.

One of our favorite holiday treats are the wonderful lights at Azalea Park in Brookings.  We knew that this year the big light show wasn’t happening, but the city of Brookings was attempting to do something at least and made arrangements for businesses that usually displayed their lights at Azalea Park to put lights up on both sides of Highway 101 and down into Harbor.  We hopped into the Tracker at dusk to go check out the show.  I must say that it was a bit of a bust.  There were a few nice lights near Fred Meyer, but the rest of them were scattered along the road with lots of space in between displays.  Oh well, at least they tried.  We heard the next morning that someone had stolen one of the big displays on the very first night of the show, the 4 piece Dragon.  So sad.  Maybe that is why so many businesses chose not to display their lights in the unprotected lots along the highway.  Eventually the dragon was recovered.

Here is a photo of the dragon from the park show last year

The next day we didn’t have to check out until 1PM and with no rush to get back home we enjoyed every last minute of park time.  I took Mattie around the campground, and walked out toward the overlook that has such a beautiful view of Harris Beach.  I felt no need to climb down to the water. 

There were so many people on the beach I was amazed.  More people and dogs running around on Harris Beach than we have ever seen even in summer.  I guess as many people have said, RVing is the great COVID escape and everyone and their dog or dogs is on the road and filling up the campgrounds.

We left in brilliant sunshine, driving as far as Cave Junction about 30 miles west of Grants Pass before we encountered the fog.  Grants Pass is often foggy in winter, sometimes without any lifting in the afternoon.  This was one of those days.  I always say, if we must have fog, we might as well have it at the beach.  It was nice to get home to our cozy house, the steamy hot tub, and TV without having to figure out the casting thing.  It was a great four days of ocean time, and a perfect way to handle a quiet Thanksgiving for just the two of us.