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When we woke early this morning, the sky was thick with smoke. It has been like this for several days because of the Smith River Complex fires, with most of the burning acreage south of the Oregon state line in northwestern California. Of the more than 80,000 acres burning, only 12,000 or so are in Oregon. Although the fire boundaries are many miles from us, the smoke is blown directly into the Rogue Valley by the dominant west and southwest winds that come our way from the Pacific. It was time for an escape.

I use several different weather and fire maps to track where the thick smoke plumes originate and where they might go. We had planned to camp at our favorite little spot, Medicine Lake in northern California, toward the end of August. The window for camping there is short, with a big tribal medicine celebration in late July that closes the largest of the four campgrounds to the general public, and cold and snow beginning sometime in early September. There are only a few sites at the Hogue Campground that we like best that are available for reservations and none of them are close to the lake. As we often do, we decided we would take our chances and hope for a good spot available on a Monday afternoon, as well as hoping for a break from the smoke.

When I looked at the app, it seemed that the boundary of the smoke plume was just north and west of our destination. Hoping for the best, we completed a few morning chores after breakfast and finished the last bit of loading provisions for the week into the MoHo. There was some extra watering needed to hopefully get the property through the next few days while we were gone. There were mole holes for Mo to deal with in the grass. Mo needed to top off the salt in our water system. I needed to do a fresh deer spray to keep the critters from completely decimating everything in the yard. Those little stinkers even eat our photinia shrubs, guaranteed to be deer-proof.

Even with all those little details, we managed to get out of the gate at 9:50, after agreeing to let ourselves relax a bit from our original plan to leave at 9. Our route south is easy and familiar. Traveling south on I-5, just a few miles to the Gold Hill exit, we turned east toward Klamath Falls. We could probably drive the Highway 140 High Lakes Pass over the Cascades in our sleep after so many years of driving back and forth between our little cottage in Grants Pass and Mo’s house in Rocky Point on the eastern slope of the Cascades. It is a beautiful drive most of the time, but on this trip, even at the maximum elevation of the pass at over 5,000 feet, the skies were thick with smoke.

Continuing east toward Klamath Falls and then south toward Tulelake on the California border, the smoke showed no signs of lessening. Then, magically, exactly where the FireAirNow website showed the smoke plume boundary, we were out of the smoke as we turned back west on the forest road near Tionesta that leads up the mountain to Medicine Lake. Glass Mountain is north of the caldera where the lake is located and the northern half of the obsidian flow that is the reason it is called Glass Mountain was in smoke and the southern half where we would be camping was crystal clear. It was an amazing thing to see, and to suddenly be in clear air and blue skies was such a relief after breathing thick smoke for so many days.

We settled into site 45, enjoying the sunshine and the view of the lake. We often take site 42, a bit more level and closer to the lake than our current site, but this time 42 was filled in with a family camping in tents. Even though 45 isn’t level and the site for the MoHo is rather tight, we managed to get perfectly level and have room for the slide and the car on the side facing the road with our door facing the lake, just the way we like it.

Mo built a fire while I heated up the green chile enchiladas I had prepared at home. After dinner, we sat by the fire until the almost full moon rose in the east over the lake. It was completely dark by 8:30, an indication that we are enough east of our location in the time zone in Grants Pass that the sun sets a bit earlier here than at home. I woke up at 4AM and stood outside in the chilly air to look at stars I hadn’t seen at home for days because of the smoke. Even though we came to this lake mainly to kayak, I was looking forward so much to clear skies and night stars again.

One of the best parts of camping at Medicine Lake this time of year is the incredible privacy. It is very, very quiet, and the campsites are a considerable distance apart, with trees between sites that limit the view of adjacent campsites. Even if the campground had been completely full, there wouldn’t be very many people within view of our motorhome as we look out over the lake.

We are both happy to once again be in our happy place at Medicine Lake.

We woke at 7 and were out of bed by 7:15.  It was a bit chilly at 42F, but the skies were clear, and the lake was silky calm with a slight miasma blanketing the water.  We planned to kayak again, but not quite as early as yesterday, giving the temperature a chance to rise a bit.

We started the generator, prepared breakfast on the stove, and decided that I could make coffee in the Keurig at the same time that Mo reheated day-old coffee in the microwave.  Although we know better than to try to turn on the toaster and the coffee pot at the same time, it seemed that the microwave wouldn’t be a problem because it is on a different circuit than the outlet for the coffee pot.  Nope.  Within moments the entire house went out.  None of the circuit breakers by the bed seemed to have a breaker that took care of the issue.  The generator wouldn’t even start.  Mo started dressing enough to go out in the chill and search the storage compartments for whatever fuse might be involved.  We did finally get the generator to start, but none of the lights for any of the appliances came on. Still wondering what could possibly be wrong.  

I thought about the fact that although I drive the MoHo, know how to hook her up, and deal with some of her inner workings I do not have a clue where the fuse boxes are located or how to even begin to manage them.  Good thing I don’t travel alone in the MoHo, no matter how independent I think I might be.  We turned the generator off and let it rest a bit as Mo was preparing to go outdoors, and then gave it another try.  The generator started and all the lights came on and everything was working perfectly.  No clue what that was all about.  Needless to say, we won’t try to run two appliances that draw a lot of juice at the same time.  We know better than to do that when plugged into shore power, and now we also know that the microwave is NOT on a separate circuit.  Something to learn after 16 years with our rig.

We enjoyed our breakfast AND our coffee. Mo slept well last night, and I slept well after two leg pills and then finally at midnight a sleeping pill which did the trick. So grateful for the gabapentin that calms the nerve pain in my legs and for the occasional Ambien that makes sleep possible when I have overdone a bit.

By 8:15 or so we were launched on the lake that was smooth as glass. The skies are clear, with high floating clouds, not big white puffies, but the wispy kind. Gaelyn, who studies clouds, would know what to name them. We paddled toward the left from the campground this time, with our destination clear. We returned to the beautiful small white sand beach on the west side of the lake at the base of the volcanic dome that separates the two lakes of the Newberry Caldera, Paulina Lake, and East Lake.

The skies were gorgeous and on that side of the lake, the water was exceptionally clear. It was much warmer than the water near the cliffs. On the way to the beach, we saw a couple of young ospreys, much too white on their breasts to get a good photo against the dark firs where they perched. Several ospreys were busy fishing, swooping over us as they watched the lake water for easy prey.

As we approached the beach we saw a long line of ducks sunning themselves on the shoreline, what I think were common mergansers. We stayed far enough away to avoid disturbing them, but after we landed they took to the water. It was a quiet exit, so they didn’t seem afraid, and they slid into the water moving toward the center of the lake.

We have been to this beach before, but in the past have been joined by fishermen plying the rich waters along this shoreline. This time there were a few kayakers and a couple of fishing boats, but none of them came close to shore and we had the entire beach to ourselves.

Mo let Mattie jump out of the kayak to the beach as we exited our boats. This time I exited in water that was about knee deep with Mo holding my boat steady and tipping it a bit to help out. I was able to rise without difficulty with the extra help of the deeper water so that was encouraging. This method is great, but only works on calm, quiet lakes with no current to deal with and no big rocks under the water.

Mattie ran up and down the beach, happily off-leash. She actually ran into the water on her own. Once. No amount of coaxing could get her back into the water. She swims well, but isn’t that interested. Mo and I remembered how easily she ran into the water when we were visiting the beach at Cape Cod and all the dogs were chasing each other and going after balls in the water. Mattie joined right in.

Since we didn’t have an extra dog along to entice Mattie, Mo picked her up and took her out into the water at a depth and distance that would allow Mattie to swim to shore.  She is an excellent swimmer and it was a great way to get her cleaned up a bit without the much dreaded bath.

We meandered back to camp where I again used the deeper water, Mo holding the boat method for exiting the kayak. After changing clothes and relaxing a bit, we began the process of moving to our new spot in the adjacent number 2 campsite.  Even though our current site was reserved for August 8 through the 12, no one ever showed up to claim the site that night or the next morning.

Our new site had been empty for the two nights we were in the campground and we knew that we could move over there at our leisure, with no need to wait until the official check-in time at 2PM.  We packed up all our outside accouterments including chairs, bbq, rugs, and wood bin in the car, and drove the hundred feet or so to the new site.  I followed with the MoHo and within a short time, we were settled into our new digs.

We were delighted with the move and especially enjoyed the new view of the lake outside our front window.  The table was in a perfect place with the fireplace arranged so that we could sit in our chairs and watch the fire with the lake view just beyond.  The part that surprised us was that the proximity to the boat launch was a positive bit of entertainment that we really enjoyed.  Most RVrs know the delight of watching people set up camp and it is just as much fun to watch all the different people launching their various kinds of watercraft.

We met and visited with our new neighbors in site 1 and they told us that they go online exactly 6 months to the minute prior to their chosen date, always choosing site number 1.  They fish, and love watching the boat ramp activity. After our sweet afternoon at site number 2, we decided that we would do the same, six months to the minute before sometime next August.  We no longer want to leave the opportunity to camp at East Lake to chance.  We even love the activity near the boat ramp and the wonderful view.

A bit after we settled into our site the camp host drove by and I waved her down.  She and her husband were delightful, and when I asked about saving a site for Gaelyn they were agreeable.  They wanted to be sure that she was really coming, and I assured them that she was.  Mo and I sat in the warm sunshine with some light shade from the surrounding lodgepole pines watching the lake and the many boats on the water as we ate our lunch.  

Gaelyn drove in around 1:30 and was surprised that we had managed to secure a site for her, not far from us in number 6. With her camper facing backward she wasn’t able to enjoy the lake view from inside her rig, but the site was extremely level, which she liked.

I offered her a shower in the MoHo which delighted her completely.  After she showered, she and I left Mo to enjoy her afternoon while we took the Tracker to the top of Paulina Peak.  (Say Paw.Lie.Na so people don’t think you are an outsider.) Mo and I traveled the crooked, washboard, curvy, steep road to the peak last time we were here so she wasn’t too worried about missing out on the view.

I took it slow going up the road, and even in 4-wheel drive we got bounced around a bit on the washboard, but once at the top, with that view spread out below us, it was all worth the trip.  I love the view, and it is even more enchanting when I can share it with someone who hasn’t seen it before.  Gaelyn understands geology and landforms and was surprised that both lakes were in the caldera.  

We could see the algae that accumulated around Paulina Lake near the store and the campgrounds.  Paulina Lake is bigger and busier, and I am not sure that they have the ten-mile-per-hour boat speed limit that is on East Lake.  

Paulina Lake to the left and East Lake is on the upper right.  Notice the cinder cone/volcanic dome that separates the lakes and the Big Obsidian Flow in the foreground.  The Newberry Crater National Monument is a classic volcanic landscape.

We wandered around the trails at the nearly 8,000 feet elevation enjoying the view in all four directions.  It was interesting to me that there was thick smoke to the west, over the Cascades.  The beautiful peaks were almost completely obscured.  To the east, where Gaelyn had spent the last couple of weeks, we could barely see the outline of Winter Rim, and the dark exposed ancient caldera of Fort Rock.  The smoke to the east was thick, and to the south, it was thick as well.  Looking toward the north, where Gaelyn was headed next, the smoke was also hanging heavy over the landscape.  What was most surprising was the lack of smoke at Newberry Crater.  We had a magnificent view.

After wandering around the peak and the viewpoint trails we drove back down the mountain.  For some reason, the washboard didn’t seem as rough going downhill, but I was glad to reach the pavement again after a few miles of that bumpy gravel.

After our return to camp, Gaelyn went home to relax in her space and Mo and I both enjoyed a delightful little nap for a couple of hours.  The afternoon was so enjoyable that I didn’t really want to sleep it away, so I looked out the window a lot as I rested.

As evening approached, Mo built another beautiful fire to share with Gaelyn as we enjoyed supper together.  We were regaled with amazing stories of Gaelyn’s life on the road, for the last 40 years or so.  It was a perfect evening, not chilly, and the view of the lake was a wonderful backdrop. The funny thing, I took no photos of our shared supper or our evening together.  I am pretty sure Gaelyn has some when she gets to this part of her road trip.

I wore down around 9 and said, “Gaelyn, I am done”. We laughed and she went home.  Mo stirred the fire down and we went to bed without even doing the dinner dishes.  

If you sit quietly sometimes nice things happen

On Wednesday morning Mo and I both woke up a bit tired and achy.  It felt chilly, although the temperature was actually a bit warmer than yesterday, maybe because we never turned on the heater the night before.  Mo was a bit concerned about us taking the time for a kayak paddle and still being ready to leave at the official check-out time for the park.  With a bit of back and forth and a short moment of disappointment, we decided to skip it.  Mo offered to help me get in and out of my boat so that I could go for a paddle while she cleaned up the camp and started packing.  That didn’t seem fair or fun to me and within minutes I had let go of the desire to go for a paddle.  Our choice was a good one.  The wind was blowing and the lake looked rough which is unusual for this early in the morning. In addition, we had time to pack up without being rushed, and still leave before the official check-out time by noon.

Mo cleaned up the outside stuff and I turned on the hot water heater for a luxurious last-day dishwashing session.  I cleaned up the MoHo and then cooked our traditional travel breakfast of a sausage muffin and coffee.  It only took an hour to pack up and get ready to leave, but we then enjoyed some leisure time to visit with Gaelyn before we left and were on the road by 11.

As I watched people bobbing around on the lake in the wind I was really glad that we didn’t try to kayak.  Kayaking in the wind isn’t fun in the least.  We are planning to go to Medicine Lake before the end of August, so will have more time for kayaking the beautiful mountain lakes before another season ends.  

The trip home was easy and seemed to go more quickly than the drive to East Lake.  We stopped at a restaurant that we discovered recently in Sams Valley, on the road between our house and where my daughter Deborah lives.  The three of us had lunch there a couple of weeks ago and knew that the burgers were the best around.

Mo had a burger and I had a patty melt with a very cold PBR, which I have come to enjoy very much since our visit last year at the historic Pabst Blue Ribbon brewery in Milwaukee.  We got home before five and everything was in good shape in spite of the heat. Our automatic sprinklers did their job without breaking in our absence and everything managed to survive our absence.  

In August, if we aren’t watering or weeding or worrying about the sprinklers, we are trimming.

We have decided that two or three nights away from home in the heat of summer is about the limit of what we should attempt.  There is plenty of time to travel in the winter months when everything is dormant and we don’t have to worry about water.  

Another great sunset from the porch at Sunset House

Our trip was very nearly perfect and I am really looking forward to our next one in a couple of weeks.

On our first morning at East Lake, we woke around 6:30.  The skies were cloudy and it was a bit chilly, enough to turn on the furnace.  We try to use the big furnace as little as possible, but when dry camping with no hookups there is no other option.  The little electric heater stays safely stashed in the bin in the shower.  RVrs know all about storing stuff in the shower.  At least ours has only two bins to remove before jumping in for a quick Navy-style shower.

We turned on the generator around 7, even though posted hours for generator use are between 6am and 10 pm.  That is a fairly long window for allowing that low-pitched rumble.  I am thankful that our generator is still fairly quiet.  Mo made coffee in the dependable Cuisinart pot we have traveled with for years, and I treated myself to a Starbucks in the new Keurig pot that I use at home as well.  Mo thinks Starbucks tastes burned, but since I first discovered good coffee at the original Starbucks in Seattle at Pike Street more than 40 years ago, I still love it.

After cooking a light breakfast we woke Mattie, all snuggled into her crate with her blankies, and I took her for a walk.  I did the campground loop and visited a bit with the camp host at the far end of the loop.  We had a little bit of a conversation about the flooding, the huge gullies throughout many of the campsites, and the fact that so many of the reserved sites were empty.  She attributed that to the heavy rain, overcast skies, and cool temperatures.  She told me that if someone hasn’t arrived at their reserved site within 24 hours of the reserved time, she will wait one more day before putting the site up for anyone arriving after 2PM.

We decided that with the cool temperatures and cloudy skies, we would let Mattie rest in the MoHo while we went for our first morning kayaking on the lake. East Lake has one of our favorite launch sites in Oregon.  The beach is fine sandy pumice, shallow water out for a dozen feet, and an old cement block with metal loops that are perfect for locking up the kayaks so that we don’t have to carry them back to the campsite every day. The paved boat launch where we park the car to unload the kayaks isn’t terribly steep and we can reach the boats on top of the car without much difficulty to take them down.  So far, so good.  We can still get the boats back up to the top of the car, even with aging shoulders.

We know this lake well and decided that on this first morning, we would travel east toward the springs and save the white sandy beach to the west for the next morning when we hoped for warmer weather. The lake was calm, and it didn’t take long for us to get beyond the steep rock wall that marks the location of the spring.  We could see that even this early in the morning there was someone at the spring.  

When we got closer, we saw that it was only one guy sitting there with his feet in the water.  He was a biker and when we called to him we had a nice conversation.  He was from Bend, first moving there for the snow and deciding to stay for good this past year.  He had biked from Bend and then took the trail from the east side boat launch on the lake to the spring.  

Mo’s sister-in-law Nancy and I sitting in the spring when it was much higher on the landscape in 2013

In the past, it wasn’t possible to walk to the spring along the shore from either direction, but the lake was lower this year and the trail was exposed enough to ride to the spring.  It used to be that the only access was either by boat or by the trail that is high above the water and required a steep climb down to the spring.  

The young man told us the water was very hot, maybe 104 degrees, and that the original location of the springs just a few feet away was dry.  We left him to his soak.

We decided to cross the lake toward the steep volcanic cliffs on the north side of the lake.  The twisted rock is evidence of the volcanic activity that created this great caldera and the beautiful lakes that are here.  The quiet on this side of the lake is palpable, with sounds from the campgrounds muted by the distance and the water.  

There is something magical about these cliffs and the clear, dark water next to them.  Huge moss-covered rocks are visible in the clear water.  Trees grow in the rock crevices and ferns can be seen in the dark places in the cracks in the rock. 

I tried to get some photos of Mo in her boat against the dark background, but they were a bit less than successful.  Mo tried to get photos of me as well, but we discovered that the contrast between my white kayak shirt, my white hair, and the dark cliffs were more than the phone camera could handle.

After some quiet time enjoying the cliffs and the silence, we turned toward the campground across the lake.  It was about 9:45 am and the lake was still as calm as glass.  I said something about the winds coming up around ten, and sure enough, as we approached the beach, the winds started ruffling the lake’s surface.  

It was a lovely first paddle, although exiting my kayak was a bit more difficult than I expected.  I attempted to exit in about 4 inches of water and rolled onto my knees expecting to rise as I usually do.  The water was too shallow to give me the angle I needed and I  couldn’t make my thigh muscles work. Mo had to pull me to a standing position and I learned that I needed to be in deeper water for my exit strategy to work effectively.

We locked the boats to the cement block, carrying our paddles and life vests back to our car parked at the campsite.  It was a perfect paddle, in spite of the cool and cloudy weather.  Upon returning to the MoHo, we turned on the heat to offset the morning chill.

Settling into the MoHo for a bit, we enjoyed the last of the apple galette I made before we left.  Our Gravenstien apple tree is producing well this year, and the first of the apples ripened just before we left on this trip.  I have a recipe for a galette that worked perfectly reduced to half the normal size.  Mo and I can never manage to eat the entire thing if I make a whole one.  

Gaelyn’s off-grid campsite at Winter Rim

Later I decided that I would go to the Ten Mile Snow Park just outside the monument boundary to see if Gaelyn (The Geogypsy) had settled in as planned.  It was only a few miles from the campground, and sure enough, as I entered the huge parking lot, I found her rig parked all alone at the edge of the pavement.  We had a nice visit, talking non-stop for almost two hours.  I should say that Gaelyn did most of the talking, which was great.  Anyone who knows and cares for Gaelyn knows that talking is one of her strong points. She is never boring and always has fascinating stories about her life on the road. She has been camping in the Oregon Outback on Winter Rim above Summer Lake for the last 12 days, one of our favorite places to camp in the Oregon desert.  She was even visited by a young bear and many quail.  She had lots of stories about this part of her summer road trip and will have a lot to write about on her blog.

I let Gaelyn know what the camp host said about available campsites and she spent a few moments deciding whether she would come to visit us at the lake and possibly stay overnight in the campground.  We decided that Tuesday afternoon would be a good time for her to come and stay at the lake.

Back home around 1:30, I settled in for a quiet afternoon napping and reading.  Mo enjoyed sitting outside for a time, but with the chill decided that it was better to relax inside the rig.  That is until she decided to go out again.  Mo loves to build and manage our campfires, and she had the fire ring all prepped with a nice little teepee of kindling long before it was time for supper.  

We had some sun, some wind, and some rain, but things were beginning to clear around 5PM and we decided to go for a walk along the lake toward the spring.  We have walked this trail in the past but were always stopped by the big rock fall that extended into the lake.  This time we were delighted to see that we could get around the rock fall and walk to the spring.

I was in jeans and a sweatshirt when we got to the spring, and was wearing walking shoes.  I so wanted to try out that hot water.  I wrapped my sweatshirt around my waist, took off my jeans, took off my shoes, and walked gingerly over the rocks to the spring.

The water felt great and was so hot that the rocks on the bottom of the spring were almost too hot to leave my feet touching them for long.  I love that little spring, even if it is only a foot and a half deep.  As I was sitting there, a kayaker approached asking how the spring was.  She had never visited this little spring before and asked if I minded if she joined me.  Of course, I minded, but of course, I said, “Sure, come on in.”  She didn’t last long in the hot water, and soon Mo and I had the spring to ourselves again.  

Mo took this photo of me after I put my jeans and shoes back on thank goodness

Mo isn’t as much of a spring lover as I am and was perfectly content to sit on a rock and enjoy the lake view as the evening light and clouds played shadows over the water.

On our walk to the spring, we saw a woman running along the beach toward the campground.  On our return walk, she approached us again, running back toward the resort on the east side of the lake.  She was a delightful, adventurous person, reminding me a lot of my friend Jeanne, who loves to run.

She told us about the time she decided to run around the entire lake because her sister-in-law said she had done it.  Just beyond the white sandy beach on the west side, she ran into a bunch of nettles, not recognizing them until she was surrounded and her skin was stinging terribly.  She continued, and I asked how she managed to get around the steep cliffs on the opposite side of the lake.  She said, “Well I tried to find a trail but it gave out, so I just swam.”.  That is something Jeanne would do, and I laughed out loud.  Then she told us that her sister-in-law finally admitted that, well, she didn’t actually run around the entire lake and turned around when she reached the cliffs.  It was an entertaining story and she told it well.

By the time we returned to camp, the wind was howling again and there was a huge black cloud hanging over the campground.  We thought there might be a repeat of the last night’s storm, but it never actually rained enough to get us wet.  I cooked a chop on the grill and with a salad and some of last night’s mac salad we had a nice supper.  

We sat around the fire long enough for the coals to be low enough for me to roast one marshmallow.  I still laugh at these campfire marshmallows because they are so incredibly huge. The first time I bought them was for a camp right here at East Lake when we camped with Mo’s brother and his wife Nancy.  Nancy and I laughed ourselves silly trying to get these huge things into our mouths.  No need for chocolate or graham crackers, just a silly time with a silly marshmallow that I don’t even like that much.  It is a great memory of good times with Mo’s brother who is now gone.

A  card game in the MoHo entertained Mo and me, before we retired with our Kindles for a bit of reading, was a perfect end to a very nearly perfect day.  Only the next day turned out to be even more perfect.  What a life.

A bit of a postscript here: I found this photo of me kayaking with my cat Jeremy on East Lake in 2013 while I was searching for the photo of Nancy and me eating those marshmallows.  I miss my soul cat.  There will never again be another Jeremy, who passed in the fall of 2014.

The natural spring on the shoreline at East Lake is full again and hot this season

It has been two years since we camped at East Lake. Our memories of our time there in 2019 are a delight, and I look at the photos often. Last year, with our planned trip to the East Coast, we never managed to get to East Lake for camping. I may have attempted a couple of times to get reservations, but last-minute sites at the campground are few and far between.

Just a couple of weeks ago, after Mo and I returned from our cruise to the British Isles, Mo said to me, “Is there any chance we can go camping somewhere soon?”. It was already mid-July, and knowing that sites are nearly impossible to find just about anywhere in Oregon, I told her I would at least make an attempt to see if something was open for us somewhere that we might enjoy.

Site 3 at East Lake Campground

Recreation.gov is the portal for camping at East Lake, and I thought maybe I would try there first, just on the minimal chance that something might show up. It is possible to get first-come/first-serve sites at that campground, or at least it used to be possible. This time when I searched the campground map for openings, there were no listings for any sites that were available on a first-come/first-serve basis. Imagine my shock when I saw two big CAPITAL A marks on only one site. I called to Mo, “There is a site available for just two nights next week. Should I book it?” Without a moment’s hesitation, she said to go for it. I have discovered that if one is willing to check in often with locations that might be on the list of desires, sometimes magic happens and a cancellation shows up at just the right time.

With our two-night reservation secured, a couple of days later Mo suggested that we check to see if there might be a third night available. Our plan was to camp for two nights and hope for an empty site due to a last-minute cancellation on the third night.  Lo and behold, there was a site available for the third night, Site 2, just across from our first location at Site 3.  Both sites looked a bit small and were surrounded on three sides by roads, which wasn’t necessarily our preference, but we weren’t about to be choosy when attempting to book something in the summer in Oregon just two weeks in advance.  Our rig is small enough at 26 feet that we can fit in comfortably just about anywhere.

We left home around nine, expecting to arrive around two at the campground when we could officially check-in.  The route is a familiar one.  South from Grants Pass just a few miles on the Interstate to Highway 234 which crosses a wide open valley toward Shady Cove and Trail, where we intercepted Highway 62, the main route from the west to Crater Lake.  Just past Union Creek and the iconic Becky’s Cafe (famous for their marionberry pies) Highway 62 makes a hard right toward the south entrance of Crater Lake and Highway 238 continues north toward Diamond Lake, the North Entrance of Crater Lake, and then drops down a long, straight stretch toward Highway 97.  

Highway 238 on the way to Diamond Lake

We stopped for a potty break for Mattie at the Mazama Overlook near the summit nearing the Crater Lake turnoff.  There were seven cars parked there with people getting ready to hike the trail that goes to the headwaters of the Rogue River.

The hike to Boundary Springs passes through a lot of burned landscapes

Two years ago, Mo and I found a dirt road that intercepted that trail and managed to cut off almost three miles of that hike.  A very steep three miles at that.  We laughed as we overheard the people wondering which way it was to Crater Lake.  Not sure if they realized that the trailhead for the Headwaters would lead them nowhere near Crater Lake.  Curious why people don’t have a paper map.  We saw them waving their phones around wondering why they didn’t have a signal.

Mo took over driving and I pulled out the Diet Pepsi and Fritos, two items that seem to be traditional for us when on the road.  As soon as I taste those salty tasty corn things, I am inundated with memories of the many long road trips we have shared over the last twenty years.  Our route from home took us past Rogue Air Drive, where daughter Deborah lived until recently, and past her new turn at the tiny community of Trail where she now lives.  We passed Lost Creek Reservoir Lake where we camped and kayaked for two gorgeous days last May.  Yes, that blog post is another one waiting to happen.  Continuing toward Union Creek and the beautiful Farewell Bend Campground along the Rouge River where we have spent some delightful times, and where our friends Nickie and Jimmy were camped during a year of fire with roads closed in both directions creating some stressful moments for them.

From the junction at Highway 97, it was just a short jaunt to the Pilot station in Chemult where we usually fuel the MoHo.  With just half a tank of fuel left, we wanted to be sure our tanks were as full as possible for three nights of dry camping with no power and the necessity to keep our batteries topped off with the generator.  Besides, we do like to make coffee in an electric pot, having given up the messy French Press years ago.

Cloudy skies in La Pine

Surprisingly, the skies were overcast throughout the entire trip, and the temperatures were in the high 50s.  In Grants Pass, it seems that the skies have been blue, blue, blue, for the last few months, and the gray skies were a welcome sight. With the cooler temperatures, there was a feeling of fall in the air, although I know that is a false flag since we are predicted to have another week of triple-digit temps in Grants Pass next week.  But our route was east of the Cascades, and it is often at least ten degrees cooler on that side of the mountains.

Later:We are sitting here relaxing after our delicious bbq hamburger supper. I made mac salad and only used half of the ingredients that I brought so I could have fresh salad for Gaelyn she arrives for an afternoon dinner with us on Tuesday.

It’s a really beautiful, peaceful, quiet evening. There is only one big rig next to us running their generator for a considerable length of time but otherwise, the sounds are just nice. Camping sounds. Crackling campfires, little dogs barking, big dogs woofing but not too much. Kids’ voices as they play. Wind in the lodgepole pines. We’re in a spot where we can see the lake. It’s really a quiet, nice little spot. It’s kind of a weird one because it’s surrounded by trees and roads on three sides. When it became available for a reservation, we grabbed it, not expecting it to be as pleasant as it has turned out to be.

Deep gullies at the beach from the previous night of rain and hail

According to one of the people we spoke to when we arrived there was a terrible storm last night with hard rain and hail. Our campsite is in a convex position so water runs off all around us and doesn’t accumulate anywhere in our camp, which is a pretty nice thing because it might rain again. There are big, dark, gray clouds above us. My guess is that it will clear up for the morning and maybe cloud up again tomorrow afternoon. Whether it clears or not we will be on the lake tomorrow morning as long as it isn’t windy. The first thing before breakfast is the plan.

East Lake is a very special spot. Every time we come here, we’ll remind ourselves how much we love it. The only other place that has been as special to us is Medicine Lake just south of the Oregon border in California in the volcanic plateau called the Medicine Lake Highlands.

Kayaking the incredible stillness of Medicine Lake in 2020

It is another campground with a lake in a volcanic caldera. But now that we’ve moved to Grants Pass, Medicine Lake is harder to get to. It is only about five hours to get to Medicine Lake, and about 5 hours to get here to East Lake, but somehow it seems a bit longer.

We are feeling very happy this evening. Relaxed, no internet, no TV. Nothing to do but sit by the fire, maybe go inside and play a game of cards. Go to bed early and read our Kindles. I am reading an incredible book called “The Covenant of Water” which started slow but is one of those books that stays with me throughout the day.

That’s about it for today. Mo just reminded me to mention that there are no mosquitoes. Even though we had heard they were terrible this year. So far this evening we haven’t seen a single mosquito. How perfect is that?!!

How about a moment from the present before I continue writing about the remainder of our cruise.  The last couple of weeks since we returned home have been warm, no more than usual, but a few days in the triple digits, and most days above the mid 90’s.  We are used to this after living in this part of Oregon for almost 6 years.

I have thoroughly enjoyed sitting in the office, with great air conditioning, writing about the cruise, reviewing the photos, and enjoying the memories.  Liz Wicks, a follower who has been around for a time, sent an email asking for a photo of the lovely scarf that I purchased in the Orkney Islands.  I opened the slim little box, lifted the lighter-than-air scarf into the sunlight, and attempted to take a one-handed photo.  I finally managed to get a decent photo in the mirror.

The delightful part about photographing the scarf is that the colors, art, and lightness of the fabric took me back to the beauty of the Orkneys.  I had a feeling it would do that and was sad to learn I couldn’t order any more presents for my daughters.  The artist only ships to the UK.  To my delight, after a bit more searching, I discovered that the jewelry artists would ship her jewelry to the US, and the scarves that were coordinated with the jewelry.  So tickled.

I guess I now wish to slip back into thoughts about the last two days of our cruise.  We were lucky that Scotland, Ireland, and England were so temperate for our visit since I have read that summer heat is increasing everywhere in Europe, and even on the British Isles.  But for us, the last couple of days of cool, cloudy weather was delightful, partly because we knew of the heat we would return to at home.

Fire season has begun, with a big burn happening west of us in the Coast Range.  We saw the cloud on the evening it ignited as we sat on the porch with our evening supper.  At first, I thought it was a thundercloud, but no such luck.  It started on July 15 and as of today, July 24, it has grown to more than 22,000 acres.  The InciWeb report says that the fire was human-caused near the Oak Flat Campground near the Illinois River which flows into the Rogue River near Agness.  Some of you may remember our Rogue River trip to Agness a few years ago.  It is a remote outpost in a gorgeous, steep canyon wilderness.

A few days later, this was the sun that we saw in the late afternoon.  Somehow the phone camera isn’t good at capturing the glowing blood red of the smoke-shrouded sun, but you get the idea.  Most of the time we have been fairly lucky regarding smoky skies, with the winds taking the smoke toward the ocean.  It only comes in sometimes in the later afternoon and evenings and is usually no longer visible in the morning when we wake.

In the meantime, during the cool early morning hours, I walk the property, check on the water system, add a little more water here and there, and appreciate all the shade from our huge, old oaks.  I do have to chase away the two big bucks that think our bird feeders are easy pickings, in addition to the apples ripening on our heirloom apple tree.

But, let’s get back to our port near Newcastle.  As I read about this city in my pre-cruise research, I learned that it was a large, industrial city, with much to see, but not much that I really cared about at this stage of the cruise.  The many bridges that cross the Tyne River are interesting, but not enough so that I wanted to take a train to the center of the city, or an excursion that would view the bridges.  A description of one of the tours touts the fantastic Georgian structures occupied by department stores and high-street retailers along Northumberland Street and the beautiful Grey Street.  

There’s lots to see in Newcastle if you are on a leisurely vacation to the British Isles and wish to spend some walking time in a city that is quickly catching up to London as a center for culture, art, and trendy restaurants.  The tour to Hadrian’s Wall sounded interesting, but not enough so for us to sign up and spend another day on a bus.

With a leisurely day ahead, we decided to take advantage of the shuttles that ran to the metro train station every 30 minutes from the port where Riviera had so conveniently docked. After our leisurely breakfast on the terrace, we ambled off the ship and to the waiting shuttle,

The ride was short to a charming village Mouth of the Tyne, and we exited the bus at the gorgeous train station.  Once again, it was a weekend and some shops were closed, but not so in the town where the streets were closed for a festival to begin that day but many of the shops were open.

We walked through the town, down to the water and the entrance to the Tynemouth Priory and Castle, which might have been a fun tour if we had a bit more time and the lines weren’t so long.  The view from that area was beautiful, though, and the surrounding gardens were lush and colorful as I would expect in this part of Great Britain.

Back up the street toward the town we found a couple of interesting shops to visit.  Mattie would have loved it.

The last shop we explored was full of colorful and artsy stuff from all over the world.  It reminded me of the Pier One shops when they were at their most popular, but this one was even better.  

Mo and I both loved all the colorful flowers in the entrance gardens, and I could have spent a fortune in there if I had just a little more time.  I am not very good at meandering and shopping anymore, not like I used to.

Even though we didn’t have a formal tour, didn’t learn a lot of history, or maybe because of it, our day was delightful.  The weather was perfect, people-watching was entertaining, and simply seeing the wonderful architecture of the town was worth the bus ride.  We very much enjoyed our walk and didn’t spend a penny doing it.

There were a great number of dog-friendly establishments in the town which made Mo and I really miss our little dog.  Why go to a dog-friendly bar when we don’t have our dog with us?!

I know parts of the photo are out of focus, thanks to the phone, but I wanted to include it because it captures the feeling of the charming English town at the Mouth of the Tyne River near Newcastle.

When we returned to the ship, we found another charming area for relaxing and having a cocktail that we had somehow missed previously.  We didn’t actually sit here, but I had to take a photo of the gorgeous amethyst crystal lamp bases for my daughter Melody, a rock and mineral collector.

We enjoyed another simple dinner in the Terrace Cafe and went to the last production show of the cruise, “Lights, Camera, Music”, including the entire Riviera Production Company, the orchestra, and the Brilliant String Quartet.  Something that seemed a bit different is that the goodbye salute from the entire crew was a video, not the usual lineup of everyone on the stage where we could applaud and thank them for all we received on the cruise.  We felt a little bit sad about that since it seems that more and more of the small details that make for a memorable cruise were missing.

Newcastle was the last port of our cruise, with one more day before we would disembark in Southampton, England.  We had another day at sea, the only sea day of the cruise, and we had nothing scheduled except dinner at another specialty restaurant, Red Ginger.

Of course, right after breakfast, we returned to the game room, hoping that our puzzle was still in place.  It was, and we spent the first half of our sea day enjoying the view from the game room and finishing the puzzle.

After lunch, we wandered around the ship one last time, finding art to photograph that I had missed earlier on the cruise.  We ran into a couple of ladies doing the same thing and laughed together about some of the art.  The artist in residence had gorgeous paintings, and I was sad that I wasn’t able to sign up for the art classes, but they weren’t available to me by the time I could choose them.  The same was true for the cooking classes.  Both of those extra treats available on Oceania ships seem to be sold to the suites and penthouses before ordinary folk have a chance to sign up.

But the art that made us laugh were some interesting images, to say the least.  One of the ladies said, “I find this art disturbing,” and the other lady said, “I find it a LOT disturbing.”  It is all subjective for certain and was fun to explore.

Our last dinner aboard the ship was at Red Ginger, my least favorite restaurant.  The ambiance was very modern and rather spare.  My least favorite aspect was the lack of windows.  Even though the restaurant was on the fifth deck and did have windows, the shades were drawn and heavy and it was obvious they were not intended to be opened.

Our dinner was so-so but may have had to do with the menu choices that we made.  Mo had chicken teriyaki and I enjoyed a salad that was interesting and rather good.  I can barely remember anything else that we ordered, as my note-taking ability by this point in the cruise was sadly lacking.

I can see items on the menu that we might have chosen with a better outcome but in retrospect, I still wasn’t that enamored with the food or the service that we received that evening.  We were happy to fall into bed, ready to be lulled to sleep on our last night at sea.

The ship docked at Southampton at 7 and our group wasn’t called until a bit before 9.  Once we disembarked I was delighted at the efficiency of the process.  The long ramps leading from the ship to the port were easily navigable with my walker, with no steps or steep ramps involved.  Our luggage, marked with our disembarkation tags, wasn’t difficult to find in the appropriate group.  We were then funneled through the various security screenings and before we knew it were loading onto the bus taking us to Terminal 5 at Heathrow Airport.  All were very quick and very efficient, which is somewhat different than other cruises we have experienced.  I would say that the embarkation and disembarkation process with Oceania was among the best and quickest we have seen, a plus for the cruise line.

Once at Heathrow, we had several hours before our flight with some time to explore the airport.  I have flown through Heathrow a couple of times and my memories of that airport are of a crowded, dingy place with a LOT of people.  We were surprised at the updated facility, the extensive and fabulous shopping, and the many restaurant choices that were available to us.  We decided to lunch at Gordon Ramsay Plane Food and had what was probably the best fish and chips I have had in a very long time.  Even those silly smashed peas were green and tasted fresh.  Our wait wasn’t more than ten minutes for a table and the service was excellent.

We were exceptionally lucky that we experienced no delays, no long waits on the tarmac for anything, and we had our chosen seats for the flight.  I attempted to beat the system by choosing an aisle and a window seat, offering my aisle seat to a young woman so that I could take her seat in the middle to be next to Mo.  That didn’t work out well, and I spent the next 9 hours sitting next to an entitled rather snarky person who rolled her eyes and made huge huffing noises when I asked to go to the lady’s room.  Twice only, in nine hours.  Give me a break.  Next time SHE can sit in the middle.

Mo got some beautiful photos of the glaciers and ice over the Arctic as we flew over.  Neither of us slept, however, and the flight was too long to be enjoyable.  Once we landed at the Portland airport, only an hour late, Dan and Chere picked us up at the baggage claim area.

I do have to speak a bit about the Portland airport.  Sadly, it was a mess, with the right hand not having a clue what the left hand was doing.  We have never flown in or out of the International terminal at Portland and will do whatever we can to avoid it in the future.  The baggage claim was a mess, with folks from Iceland not finding their luggage and ours mixed up and delayed for a very long time.  Passport Control and Customs were also a mess, with long lines snaking everywhere and no separate lines for disabled people.  There was no direction as to where we should go to get to the main terminal of our airport where our ride awaited.  Finally, we were put on a shuttle bus with a bunch of people who had missed flights or were running late.  I was very happy to get out of that shuttle and find our way to the exit doors of that airport.  It felt like a third-world airport, especially after such a stellar experience at Heathrow.

We wanted to thank Dan and Chere for the ride to and from the airport with dinner out on the way home.  I barely remember anything about that dinner except I did have a Perfect Marguerita and a decent meal at Applebees.  It was a good choice for a couple of very tired people who might have had a hard time making any kind of choices at any place else.  For us, Applebees has always been a fine place to eat a simple meal with good service.

After sleeping at Dan and Chere’s, we were up early for the drive south.  Both of us were so excited to see Mattie, and when we arrived at Melody’s Mattie was beside herself with joy.  But on the trip home, she seemed a bit confused, and a little bit sad, obviously wondering where her buddy Melody was.  

Once we arrived home, it was wonderful to see that everything was in great shape.  Daughter Deborah had taken good care of the place for us, with water handled and lawns mowed.  The house felt fabulous.

It took Mattie a couple of days to lose that worried look, and she would look up at us as if to ask whether or not things were going to change again.

In no time at all, she was feeling as chipper as ever, settling back into her everyday routine.  We felt pretty good too, once we got unpacked and got a couple of good nights’ sleep.  It was wonderful to experience such a great cruise to a new place, and especially wonderful to be back home again.