wildlife refuges – The MoHo and Other Traveling Tales

02-18-2022 Not Stuck in Lodi

These sandhill cranes are so close to Flag City RV Resort you can see the lights of the park

As I mentioned before, we have passed through Lodi repeatedly over the years. Most everyone, at least the older ones among us, remembers the old Credence Clearwater Revival song, Stuck in Lodi Again. I thought it might be fun to research what John Fogerty thought when he wrote the song. There are a couple of versions. The simplest is that he remembered Lodi from trips where his father took them camping at Lodi Lake, a place he hated. Another time he said he hoped his career wouldn’t get stuck in small nowhere towns like Lodi. Either way, Lodi was a nowhere place in central California, about 30 miles south of Sacramento. I even got stuck in Lodi once with a guy I was crazy about, on a first date, late at night when his car broke down, and we shared our first kiss on the winding road from Sutter Creek to Lodi. I have loved dancing to that song ever since.

Even though I lived in Sacramento for a time, I still didn’t know Lodi as an actual destination. Not until Mo and I read the fancy brochures in the main office at Flag City RV Resort did we realize just how famous Lodi is in the world of wine, and especially the Old Vine Zinfandels that we both like.

For this trip, Lodi was our southernmost extent in the excellent wine state of California. We planned three nights and two days, thinking that we could visit a few wineries. When Mo received the shiny brochure from the Lodi Visitor Information Center, we perused the glossy ads. Finally, we decided on two wineries that might give us a taste of some good wine without too much hassle or a required reservation.

Mo also decided that it would be good to do something other than drink wine and found a couple of local wildlife reserves to visit. When we mentioned our plans to friends Sue and Randy, they were full of superb suggestions for us.

Settling into our site at Flag City RV Resort on Wednesday evening, we were delighted to see fabulous weather predicted for the next several days. Sunshine and wine? What could be better?

One of Mo’s choices, before we left home, was to visit the Woodbridge Ecological Reserve, also called the Eisenberg Sandhill Crane Reserve. We had no clue that the timing of our arrival at the Reserve was crucial. Sue and Randy regaled us with tales of thousands of sandhill cranes flying in just at sunset to fill the ponds with the huge, noisy birds. They stressed that if we waited until after sunset, it would be too late, and if we were too early, there would be no birds to see.

After we got settled, we drove a few short miles north of the park to the Reserve. We saw a few parked cars near the sign north of the ponds. A few cranes were gathered, feeding and making garbled crane sounds. I love that sound! I walked toward an entrance gate where a sign notified people that the Reserve required a paid pass to enter. I asked a couple of people settling in at the benches if we needed an access pass to walk on the other side of the gate. Yup, sure enough.

I am sure that the view from outside the gate wasn’t much different from the view from those benches.

We waited about half an hour before seeing swoops of cranes flying in the distance, and they were wondrous against the darkening sunset skies. A few landed in the ponds nearby but many more traveled farther west toward distant ponds.

Mo and I decided to drive a bit west along the old farm road and found more cranes resting in ponds, with only a few flying in to land. Randy and Sue said they had seen thousands flying and landing in the ponds earlier in the season. We missed the big fly-in but still got to see Sandhill Cranes.

We slept in a bit the following day, took Mattie for a couple of walks, and had a tasty breakfast at home. Our goal for the day was to explore at least two wineries in Lodi, and the first choice was the most distant, the Bokish Vineyard and Winery, about 10 miles east of town.

The sun was shining, the outdoor tables were bright red, with umbrellas that could open for shade. We laughed when attempting to sit in the extremely low chairs. I wasn’t sure I would ever get up again! Mo waited outside with Mattie while I went inside the tasting room. Bokish Vineyard specializes in Spanish wines and as a lover of Verdujo wines. I was anxious to try them out. The Applegate Valley near where we live is famous for tempranillo grapes, and there were several blends and estate wines made with tempranillo grapes at Bokish.

I bought a single flight, but the steward was quite busy with wine club members buying many flights for six people at a table. After tasting a couple of wines in the flight, I said, “Never Mind. Just let me buy a glass of your Tempranillo blend for my friend and a bottle of the Verdujo for us to take with us.” I think I missed the last two choices of my flight, but it didn’t matter. It was more fun to go back outside and sit in the sun with Mo and the dog.

The Bokish Winery was close to the tiny town of Lockeford, the location of Lockeford Sausage. Friends Sue and Randy told us about this historic meat market famous for wonderful sausages. We took a little side trip on the way to the next winery to check out the store. Mo parked along the busy road while I stood in line with several people in the tiny store. The choices were amazing, and I left with some linguisa, some kielbasa, and their famous fair sausages.

When I mentioned to the Bokish steward that we were visiting Lodi to taste Old Vine Zinfandels, he told me about another nearby winery that we would not have chosen on our own. The Klinker Brick Winery was small and comfortable, an incredibly charming place to sit and order some of the best wines we tasted during our visit. I learned about estate wines made from a single variety of grape from a single vineyard.

Our purchase of choice was the Marissa, a beautiful wine made from 94-year-old vines. Our server was a delightful woman with a great sense of humor and a wonderful laugh. She served us al carte snacks of cheese, crackers, and salami to go with our wine. By the time we enjoyed these two wineries, it was time for us to return home.

Traveling what we thought was the main street into Lodi, we attempted to find the lovely Lodi mission arch. Mo was driving, and I was navigating but to no avail. Finally, we stopped a young woman crossing a downtown street, asking the location of the arch. Oops. She looked at me as if I were foolish and pointed to her left. The arch was less than 500 feet from where we sat at the stoplight. The history of the old arch is fun to read about if you care to take the time.

We did not need dinner after our wine and afternoon snacks and settled in with one of the best inventions we have found for traveling. We don’t carry a satellite for tv. The parks sometimes have cable, but we are so spoiled with recording most of what we watch that the interminable ads drive us nuts. The choices aren’t that great either. We have a smart TV and could link up our phone hotspot to the TV to watch Netflix or Amazon Prime, but that uses up data even with our unlimited plan. Instead, I fire up Amazon on my phone, turn on the screen sharing on the phone and the TV, and Wa La~~good shows to watch without using up data. For some reason, Verizon will let us use as much data as we wish as long as it isn’t through the hotspot.

We planned the next day to explore wildlife reserves. Rising with the sun, I made coffee for the road, and we drove 11 miles north to the Consumnes River Preserve to find birds. The Preserve is very close to I-5, and as many times as we have traveled south on that highway, I never realized how close we were to a great destination.

The gate was supposed to be open at eight AM on weekdays, but a handwritten sign said that time might be variable. We parked in an area north of the wetlands and walked the paved pathways toward the ponds. Wooden walks were interspersed along the wetlands to allow better access. There were many ducks of several varieties, but I am not a very good duck identifier without a bird book in hand.

We then parked outside the closed entry gate to the Visitor Center, where we found a QR code with maps and information for each stop along the trails. There were even fewer birds along the wetlands near the main river channel. However, it was a delightful walk, and a few other walkers were enjoying the trail by the time we left.

Back home for breakfast, we next headed toward town for another day of explorations. Lodi Lake was our first destination. We were somewhat disappointed when we found the lake, dry as a bone except for a tiny area where a few birds huddled near the puddle of water.

I am glad that we didn’t plan to kayak the lake! We walked around, a bit disconcerted when we saw the signs saying No Dogs On the Lawn. What good is a park where dogs can’t play? This was the part of the day that was designed specifically for Mattie!

We walked the roads a bit, checked out the campground, and marveled at the boat ramp to nothing. I couldn’t figure out what white bird species were huddled by the little bit of water until I zoomed in on the photo. They were American white pelicans, one of our favorites from the Klamath Basin where we once lived.

After our lake exploration, we traveled north of town to another winery we chose from the brochure. The ad for Viaggo Vineyards and Winery was particularly glossy. The entry gate was impressive, and once inside, the long stone pathway was lined with plants and sculptures.

Mo settled into a table, and I entered the large, overly impressive tasting room. The room was opulent beyond description, and the person serving the wine wasn’t particularly welcoming. I ordered a single flight with plans to get another glass of something for Mo and buy a bottle of choice.

I have to say the wines were awful. I walked around and checked out the grounds, where the main house was a McMansion of grandiose proportions. I decided that this winery was a pet project of someone with way too much money and very little knowledge of wine.

I learned later that Viaggo Winery was considered a “venue” for weddings more than a place for excellent wine. While we were sitting at our table, a large group of chatty and giggly young women arrived, and the wine steward was all over welcoming them to the property. To him, I am pretty sure two old ladies ordering a single wine flight were chopped liver.

After a disappointing day visiting Lodi Lake and Viaggo Winery, we returned to the MoHo. I still wanted to see the Michael David Winery, (even if you haven’t bothered to click on the links, don’t miss this one ) just a few short blocks east of the RV Park. We discovered that visiting wineries could be very limited by timing. Most of the wineries we visited were open from noon to five on weekdays and often closed on Mondays and Tuesdays.

We settled at the outdoor tasting bar at Michael David just 15 minutes before the last tasting. The wine steward offered us a menu, but I was disappointed that several wines were types we weren’t interested in tasting. I told him we were in Lodi to experience Old Vine Zins, and he said under his breath, “I am not supposed to do this, but what the heck.” He poured a glass of one of the zins for Mo and a glass of the best zin they had for me at the cost of two tastings. He was fun, the grounds were beautiful, and by the time we finished our wine, both of us were feeling quite content about the ending of the day.

Our exploratory visit to Lodi ended on a good note. Considering that we drank the equivalent of two glasses of wine each day, I don’t think we overdid. We bought three bottles of wine, not the least bit excessive. Maybe that last bottle of Old Vine Zin from an estate vineyard at Michael David was a bit extravagant, and we will save that one for a celebration of something fabulous.

07-17-2021 Fun times in Early July

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

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

A photo from my little shop in Wallace, Idaho

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

July 5 Visiting Wildlife Safari in Winston

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But that is for the next story….

05-19-2021 We Escaped the Snow…Mostly

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

01-14-2015 Refuge Days with Judy

Current Location: Imperial National Wildlife Refuge northeast of Yuma Arizona

It has been three days since we left the relative urban environment of the Coachella Valley to travel east and south. The route is familiar again. A short way along Dillon road to the east intercepts I-10 and once again we are traveling toward Quartzite, passing last years boondock site at the entrance to Joshua Tree, enjoying the reasonably smooth pavement of this part of the interstate.

We were in Quartzite before noon, with the cloudy skies invading the desert to the west gone and replaced with varying levels of warm sunshine. We gassed up at the Pilot at $2.06 per gallon with our .03 discount. It is rather amazing to fill the tank of the MoHo with less than a hundred bucks. We parked in the lot east of the station, with few semi’s parked there, thinking it would be OK. We didn’t back in, but parked at the far end of the lot crossways. No one was anywhere near us. But by the time we got back from our short shopping foray, a big rig had parked in front of us, and while we sat there preparing to leave, another slid in even closer. I think we broke some rule and did some quick backing up to get out of there before we were completely boxed in.

Quartzite was the same as ever, windy and cool in spite of the sunshine, long rows of stalls with tons of stuff, and the tool store and bead store that we saw last year. Mo didn’t find what she was looking for and there wasn’t a single thing that I needed or wanted. A few items at the less than stellar grocery store reminded me that if you come to Quartzite, you should probably have anything you need already in your possession.

After a very short stop, we were again rolling south on Highway 95, past the Kofa Mountains and toward Yuma. Temps were fairly cool, and some big black clouds in the sky to the south indicated that rain was either coming or going. Unusual in this part of the desert at this time of the year.

Imperial National Wildlife Refuge is located on the Arizona side of the Colorado river, and the access road is at the huge Yuma Proving Ground. We turned west, and were surprised that the road was unpaved a few miles before we reached the refuge. The washboards weren’t too bad, actually not as rough as I-5 can be in parts of California.

The large puddle, however, stopped us cold. In the southwest there is no way of knowing how deep the puddle may be, or how soft the roadbed is beneath the puddle. We were in a quandary. At the lower level of the wash where we were stopped, there was no phone signal, so I couldn’t call Judy at the visitor center to ask about the big puddle.

Instead, we unhooked, Mo turned around with the baby car, and I backed the MoHo up the road a few hundred yards to the intersection. I was attempting to get a call through when a man in a golf cart showed up and offered to lead us across the puddle, insisting that it was perfectly fine. We asked him to go first to prove it however, before we slowly crossed the scary puddle of water which turned out to be pretty easy. Still, as they know in the Southwest, you never know about these puddles so better safe than sorry. We later heard that Barbara, of Me and my Dog, had attempted to visit Judy that same morning, and the puddle made her turn around without even trying to cross in the car in which she and a friend were exploring.

Seeing Judy again was great. We met last year in Anahuac NWR, so the meeting didn’t have the “new” thing, but was instead a happy reunion. We stopped in at the Visitor Center since it was her work day and let her know we had arrived and then settled into our campsite with plans to meet for supper when Judy got off work. Emma was as happy and excited as usual, but before long she settled down and enjoyed the company. Judy’s site overlooking the pond is fabulous. The view, the patio, the shady side of the rig stays nice and cool (I think that should be a good thing most of the time). All the bloggers who weighed in encouraging her to move to the 30 amp site were right! A good move.

After a great sleep in the silent beautiful desert, Judy stopped by in the morning to pick us up for the day’s tour. Judy usually does the bird tours on Sundays, but she sweetly offered to do one this week on a Tuesday for us, and for John and Sharon from On the Road Of Retirement.

I have followed their blog for years, so it was delightful to meet them in person and share the morning checking out the ponds and birds on the refuge.

No telephoto along today to capture photos of the wonderful birds, but I do have to put a little bit fuzzy one up of the beautiful great horned owl that graced us with its presence and sat quietly in the tree in full daylight posing.

I added some more birds to my list, with a favorite being the little loggerhead shrike, a bird who skewers his live food onto thorns to keep it in place while he eats. Hmmm. I also saw Say’s Phoebe, which without Judy around would have been just another little brown bird. Nothing quite so wonderful for a non birder who likes birds than to go out with a real birder!

Judy taught us a lot, and shared fascinating information about the habits of some of the residents of the refuge. We didn’t see the bobcat, but did see the log where she scratches. We didn’t see the beavers, but saw the fascinating beaver trails crossing the road between ponds. We didn’t see the coyotes or the burros, either, but got a kick out of the coyote and burro trails.

Later in the afternoon, Judy picked us up again, and took us to the northern portions of the refuge. There are four overlooks, with views of the remnant lakes that connect to the Colorado River, and at the first one we found so many birds that even Judy was excited.

I added buffleheads and ruddy ducks to my list, even though I know I have seen them in our Klamath Basin refuge. It makes such a difference to have a birder tell what they are. I might actually remember now.

Evening was enjoyed with laughs and conversation on Judy’s patio, and probably the best BBQ chicken I ever tasted. Judy called it New York chicken bbq and spent a great deal of time basting the pieces with a nondescript looking marinade that turned the chicken into a flavorful crispy skinned delight. Never had anything like it. Don’t forget to send me that recipe, Judy!

Wednesday Judy had arranged some kayaks to get the three of us out on the Colorado River, but with the very cool temperatures and the wind starting up early, we nixed that plan quickly. Instead Judy drove us north again to the Painted Desert Trail, I think the only official trail in the Refuge.

The temperatures were perfect for the leisurely hike, a mile and a third winding around and up through the volcanic rhyolites, tuffs, and basalts of the 20 million year old landscape, topped off by river gravels from the meandering Ancestral Colorado shining with desert varnish.

We found some very interesting green rocks, carried down by erosion from the basalt flows to the north, but Judy made sure we didn’t pick one up. The only place to gather rock is some distance north and east in the Kofa Refuge.

I learned finally which tree was the ironwood, and we talked a bit about how many different plants are called “ironwood”. Nothing was yet in flower, but the lime green of the palo verde trees against the rusty red rocks added plenty of color. Again we saw burro sign and burro trails, but no sign of a live animal. This refuge is ambivalent about the burros. They aren’t attempting to eliminate them as they are at Sheldon NWR, but they are also not doing anything to support them since they are feral, not a naturally occurring species.

We had the entire morning and trail to ourselves, so imagine our surprise to return to the trail head to see so many cars parked! Lucky us! Later in the day we found out that there had been more than 100 visitors to the center that day, and the park was crawling with people, more than Judy had seen in her entire time here since October.

Home mid day, we packed up a lunch (don’t ever offer Judy a tuna sandwich!) and decided since we couldn’t kayak, we could take a few hours to explore the lower end of the Kofa Refuge in the Tracker. With only half a tank of gas in the car, and a gas station all the way south in Yuma, we limited our drive to 3 hours and 100 miles. We didn’t have to worry about the distance in the least.

We used up the three hours without a problem, but the condition of the road deteriorated enough that our progress was slow and we didn’t have time to actually get over MacPherson Pass to the other side.

The picnic was a stand up affair, with a little bit of wind protection from the car and entertainment provided by a long line of Jeeps coming back down from the pass. After lunch, we attempted to continue a bit north, but were stopped by a drop off. After careful examination, we decided against trying it. Mo and I have done similar obstacles in the Tracker, but it was getting late and we had no clue how many more we might have to try and then still turn around.

It was important to get Judy back to her site on time, since she was the hostess of a gathering of refuge volunteers and she had 20 Chicago hot dogs to prepare. At five, the volunteers gathered to visit and enjoy the dogs and chili and some salads provided potluck style and talk about the different refuges where they have volunteered. It was an interesting perspective on a lifestyle that is considerably different than some full time RVrs.

Our three days here in the Arizona desert are coming to a close. I can’t believe how quickly the time passed and how wonderfully quiet it has been here. Lucky Us!! It isn’t easy to take time away from working for Judy to show folks around, so I don’t take her generosity for granted. What a great lady, who gives so much to the refuge world. Lucky them as well.

Today we travel north again for some off-grid time in Joshua Tree.

2-19-2014 John and Carol share J.N.Ding Darling NWR with us

Currently: Midway Campground at Big Cypress Preserve 71F at six AM and no internet

The sunrise at our KOA campground was incredible, so I was definitely frustrated that I could find no open sky to actually photograph it! Giant motorhomes were everywhere and even walking to the end of the campground yielded nothing.

I had been in contact with Carol and John, of “Our Trip Around the Sun”, since last summer when I first knew when we would be near Sanibel Island. They are NWR volunteers who suffered through a summer season at the J.N. Ding Darling NWR and as a result were considered and selected for the primo winter positions. John does heavy maintenance and Carol is responsible for several administrative duties, in addition to giving talks about the alligators and crocodile in the park.

We knew Carol’s talk was at 11AM so planned our morning route with enough time to arrive at the park an hour early so that we could see the beautiful Visitor Center before meeting Carol. Oops. We knew there would be traffic, but didn’t plan for the congestion to be as bad as it was. Even with our 8:30 AM departure, it was just a bit after 11 when we walked up to the kiosk where Carol was beginning her talk.

Still makes me smile to remember how warmly Carol greeted us, she seemed genuinely delighted to have us there. Her talk was wonderful, and I learned more about the Florida alligators and the salt water loving croc that lives at Ding Darling. Carol is deservedly proud to be working at this primo refuge and does a great job sharing her knowledge about it.

Having a park volunteer offer to do a tour is a genuine treat. Carol was laughing because she knew I wanted to see spoonbills and she was all worried that she wouldn’t manage it until she saw the spoonbills on my blog that Judy found for me. Phew…no more pressure!

We didn’t see spoonbills, but Carol took us around the wildlife drive, knowing the right places to stop to see the birds. Carol is a “real” birder, and when I only watched a bird for a few minutes and gave up on getting the proper pose she laughed and said, “Well, you aren’t a “real” birder yet, but you are close”. Ha!

We laughed and talked and walked and shared bird sightings until the afternoon got a bit too warm and the birds all went under cover. Carol invited us to do the same at her shady patio with drinks and snacks while we waited for John to get off work. Before long, John joined us on the patio and we all decided that a trip to the beach was in order.

There are several beaches on Sanibel and they picked the one they thought would have the best parking and the least crowding. The beach was lovely, with soft sand and gentle lapping waves, and enough space between chairs and umbrellas that we found a nice place to sit and walk and let Abby swim.

Of course, the highlight of the day was something other than the refuge OR the birds OR the beach. Insisting that only tourists tried to leave the island before dark, Carol invited us to what she called a “simple” dinner of roast pork loin, (which John cooked to perfection on the grill), roasted potatoes, and fresh salad with ice cream for dessert. With some tasty wine and delightful conversation we lingered long past dark enjoying their company and hospitality.