The MoHo and Other Traveling Tales

Snowy weekend

The snow has come for real to Rocky Point, with enough on the road yesterday that Mo had to plow. She fires up the tractor for the road leading to the house (aptly named Easy Street), and I get out the shovel and do the big driveway by hand. We have a snow blower as well, but I only get that out when the stuff is really deep, at least a foot or two. Yesterday it was just 2 inches, and this morning another 2 inches. I think an hour of shoveling up and down that driveway qualifies for at least half of my ten thousand steps a day, (which I haven’t actually done in a very long time). Difference between our snow and Rick’s snow is that ours probably won’t melt. If you have a dog, or know a dog, or just want to laugh from joy, drop over to Rick’s page and check out his video of Rylie running around in the snow. Abby doesn’t get quite so excited, although I do have some videos of her doing similar silly stuff in water, warm! water that is.

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When I moved back to Rocky Point last year, I packed up a lot of boxes of stuff, even after a year of thinning and selling and giving away stuff, I still have stuff to deal with. Mo has a small shed out back, and in that shed are some chests and boxes, including a great drawer full of travel brochures and memorabilia. I went out there yesterday to find something and came upon an old travel journal. Mo and I have traveled together since mid 2003, and it was great to find all those old handwritten stories tucked away with places, dates, all the details that we forget as the years continue. Sometimes we go to the blog to try to remember a trip, or a date, and it is a bit frustrating to find that what we are trying to remember is pre-blog.

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I decided it would be a good idea to go back in time and add those old trips and photos here. I was a little bit concerned that the posts would show up all over the place as recent, but I checked a few blog rolls and it seems that as long as I remember to put the right publish date, blog followers won’t be bombarded with ancient history. It’s fun to go through the stories and photos and get it all down in proper blog format. I find I enjoy my own memories more with the illustrations accompanying the text, so it’s a great little trip down memory lane. Mo thought is would be nice to have everything in one place as well. I didn’t start blogging our travels until we were on our cross country trip back to Florida, and we started that trip in the baby MoHo and bought the current one on our return trip, but that story is here. The prior stories are coming along. I know that I don’t often crawl back in blog archives to see someone’s history. So much is going on right in the present it’s often hard to keep up!

This week I get to remember that I really am retired. I don’t have to work at all! The weekend has been great, with shoveling, hauling another load of crackling dry juniper to the porch for the fire, cooking, cleaning, and some good knitting and tv watching as well. We had three Grey’s Anatomy shows stacked up on the DVR so that was great fun, not having to wait a whole week for the outcome, just fast forward. Today I am continuing with the cleaning projects, and have all my Cooks Illustrated magazines out on the counter looking for some new recipes for Thanksgiving. I know better than to mess with family classics, but I can at least experiment with an extra here and there. Half my children will be here with spouses and kids, the other half are in other parts of the country. I am really looking forward to a big dinner, to the cooking and camaraderie, to family time. The four years I was in California were hard for me, my family couldn’t manage the distance to travel to me, and I haven’t hosted the holiday at my home since 2003, when I still lived in Klamath Falls. Family and food and fun. Mo’s brothers are up north, and her sister is in Colorado, so they don’t often manage to get everyone together for Thanksgiving. So Mo will be here as well, patiently tolerating and even enjoying my family and all it’s craziness.

Back to work

After being home just part of a day, it was time for me to make up for two and a half weeks traveling and head back to town to work. As the weather deepens into winter I will be working from home more often, but I still have to go to the Soil Survey Office in Klamath Falls on a regular basis to get “official” emails on my “official” government computer, and check in with each of my four bosses. Just thought it might be fun to share my early morning ride with you.

Rocky Point is about 30 miles or so west of Klamath Falls, and Klamath Lake is nestled into the basin between here and there. The morning commute is never boring, and what I love most about it is the lack of cars. Sometimes I will see 2 or 3 cars at the most traveling west to Medford, and maybe a truck or two will pass me going east.

On a clear morning I can see Mt Shasta in the distance as I climb over Doak Mountain. The sweetest moment of my 35 minute drive however, is when I round the big curve and the southern arm of Klamath Lake stretches out before me. This morning my timing was just right to catch the early light over the lake. “Commute” is a relative term, don’t you think?

Sharing time with friends in Oroville

Our time on the water, on rivers and beaches, came to an end on Thursday with the beginning of our inland route to Redding. Garmin Girl really wanted us to travel south on 101, cross the Bay Area near Vallejo, and then go north again on I-5. Ugh. We turned her off, and headed north again and over the mountains toward the northern part of the great wide Sacramento Valley.

Sonoma County was beautiful, and in the slanting fall sunlight, the vineyards were many shades of red and gold. I tried for photos, but traveling was the order of the day and I can’t seem to manage much from the windshield. We stayed on 101 to Ukiah, a town I repeatedly get mixed up with Yreka and Eureka, although now I should have them straight in my head. Arcata is another one in the mix, that I now have some experience with so should remember.

Ukiah was a pleasant small town along the freeway, with a bit of a rural feeling to it except for the big shopping center with a Target and an Applebee’s. Mo and I both had the thought of a big juicy hamburger at about the same time. It’s amazing how we can drive in companionable silence for a long time and suddenly we’re both saying, “Gee, what do you think of a burger?” We got to Applebee’s just in time, about half an hour before lunch, before the crowds started filling up all available seats. To our delight, it was Veteran’s Day and they were giving free meals to all veterans. Mo pulled out her military ID and we had the best burgers we have had in a long time.

The afternoon was sunny and pleasant, and in no time we pulled into my friend’s driveway in Oroville. Maryruth has been my friend since 1963, (that is 47 years if anyone is counting!) and she and her husband of the last 23 years or so have a nice spread on the hills above town with plenty of space for us to park for a couple of nights and enjoy some visiting time before we continue north.

Maryruth and I met across the fence one day back in Arcadia, California where I lived as a very young mother. Maryruth also was a young mother of three, and we discovered over that back fence on an October afternoon, that her youngest and my oldest were just three days apart. Some friendships are so integral to your soul that they withstand all that life and time can bring. We shared births, and deaths, divorces, incredible tragedies, and delightful adventures. We shared a home for more than a year when we each had three children, yes, that was six children in our home, ages 1,2 3, and 3, 4, and 5. We were welfare mom’s for a short time, husbandless, hard working, and incredibly poor. Life brought a lot to us, but most of all it brought our love and support of each other through it all. I am incredibly lucky to have her as my lifetime friend.

Gerald, her husband, is a sweet man, who totally adores Maryruth and is generous and kind. While he worked outside on his gardens, and Mo washed the MoHo and caught upon the news, Maryruth and I played Hand and Foot and enjoyed just hanging out together. Maryruth is also an incredible cook, and she had breakfast, lunch, and dinner, all planned for the entire time we were there. I had to beg for mercy, and talked her out of the lunch. Two big meals a day is all we can manage, and we had to give up one or the other. The marinated salmon won out and we had a great dinner, played more cards, and slept through a movie on the big comfy sofas. It was a nice way to end our trip.

On Saturday morning we packed up and headed north to Redding to settle in to the Redding RV Park, right next to I-5. We didn’t want to try to find the RV storage, empty out the rig, and then still drive home that night. Camp Club USA made the stay worthwhile, even if there was Interstate noise all night and the WiFi didn’t work for beans. Mo settled in for a bit while I drove back south to visit my ex mom in law in Red Bluff before returning to Redding for supper and a very early bedtime.

The Sunday morning sunrise out the back window was gorgeous, and the noise didn’t penetrate our little haven. It was a bit laughable trying to get all our “stuff” that we normally just carry in the MoHo to fit into the baby car for the trip home. We didn’t want to leave any kind of food, even dry packaged food seems to be a haven for mice, and we also had all our clothes, kayak paddles and PFD’s, books, bathroom stuff, and the ever present cords, batteries, computers, and phones. Of course, we also had the dog and cat. The baby car is just a little Tracker, lightweight and small, great for pulling, but a bit tight for traveling 150 miles back over the pass to home.

We found the RV storage without any trouble, but once there had a few moments of worry, wondering if we could actually fit into that tight space. Mo backed her in, carefully, and with only a few inches on either side of the rig, it was a bit dicey. Once inside, however, everything was fine. She hooked up the battery keeper and we pulled down the big door and breathed a sigh of relief.

I’m not sure when we will get back out again. I have to catch up on work, and Thanksgiving is coming along as well, with plans for a big family dinner. But it’s good to know that when the whim strikes, we can jump in the baby car and go get our rig and find a warm, sunny escape from the snow. The deserts are calling me, especially when I keep reading Al’s blog about the dark skies of the southwest. I would imagine that will be the next adventure.

The Sonoma Coast and the Russian River

We wakened to a bit of fog this morning, but the rain had stopped and by 9 most of the fog was gone as well. Once again the weather was with us. Today we planned to kayak the Russian River, starting at Jenner on the ocean and paddling upstream with the tide until noon or so before turning with the tide and going back down to the ocean.

The route to Jenner along Highway 118 follows the river and passes the eclectic town of Guerneville along the way. The road is narrow and thick with trees, so dark that the street lights were still on at ten in the morning. We didn’t stop at Guerneville, in spite of the cute little shops there, the river was calling. Once at the launch site at the Sonoma Coast State Information Center our plans came to a screeching halt. The wind coming upriver from the ocean was cold and stiff, and I really didn’t want to spend my day cold and stiff as well.

Instead, we drove on north through Jenner, toward Fort Ross, a Russian settlement with an amazing history, and the magnificent views of the ocean along this part of Highway 1. The skies were clear and the ocean was gorgeous. We stopped for a hot cappuccino and a decadent muffin at the Timber Cove Lodge overlooking the bluffs. At Salt Point State Park we walked the trails out to the surf with Abby. Continuing north we checked out the state park campgrounds along the way. They were completely empty, and no wonder since there are no amenities except wild ocean, and the charge is a flat 35 dollars per night. Gerstle Cove campground was beautiful, with sites that were level enough to be manageable, but we would have to really want a view of the ocean to maneuver Highway 1 for all those miles to end up with something close to boondocking for 35 bucks. I don’t remember State Park fees in California being this high before. Maybe they have raised the rates to help out the bankrupt state, but if no one is in them, it isn’t going to help much. More photos of the Sonoma Coast are linked here.

When we got back to Jenner and the Russian River, the skies were still clear, and once inland at the Highway 1 bridge south, the winds seemed much calmer. We took the old dirt road on the south side of the river leading to Willow Creek State Park, closed to camping, but with a path leading to a wide rocky beach perfect for a river launch.

By the time we got on the river it was nearly 3, but that gave us enough time to paddle upriver about 2 miles before we turned back. The high tide was supposed to max out at 12:00 or so today, but it seems that sometimes the river mouth closes off and slows the outgoing tide. Paddling upstream was effortless, with calm still water and very little wind. Again, we saw cormorants and several kinds of ducks, and I watched a great egret fishing intently along a gravel bar.

The reflections of the surrounding hills on the silky water were mesmerizing. It turned out to be a perfect day of ocean and river and we got to do it all. More photos of the Russian River are linked here.

Traveling from Fort Bragg to the Russian River

When we left Fort Bragg yesterday, it was raining hard. Our route followed Highway 1 along the coast for several miles before we turned inland at the Navarre River on Highway 128. Gasoline was just 2.99 a gallon on the south end of Fort Bragg, so we put another 75 in the MoHo and hooked up the baby car right there in the gas station. We are both amazed at how quickly we can hook up that car. The Stow Master hitch works great if we hit it every now and then with a bit of silicone. I can just slide it onto the ball without any effort at all.

I checked our route on Google Maps, on the iPhone, and with Garmin Girl, all set for the fastest, not the shortest route. I didn’t say anything about avoiding highways. All three of them sent us over 128, but not a single one gave us a clue what we were in for. The first part of the road was narrow, following the Navarre River through huge old redwood forests, damp and dark in the misty rain. After a few miles we emerged into the Anderson Valley, and official wine country. Picturesque small towns dotted the landscape every few miles and even in the rain the vineyards were beautiful in their fall colors.

Once we began ascending the mountains of the coast range however, the road got more and more narrow, and more winding even than Highway 1 was a few days ago. The last five miles before we reached 101 were probably the most harrowing so far on this trip. Mo handled it with aplomb, I wore my wristbands, and Jeremy only got sick once.

If we had known the route was this bad, we would have taken the more direct route straight south on Highway 1 along the coastline all the way to Jenner. Ah well, neither of us had been on this route before, so it was ok. Of course, Garmin Girl was still programmed for “shortest route”, so she took us along the even rougher “Westside Road” to get us into Forestville rather than going farther south on 101 and taking a major road back west. By the time we got to the campground in the dark pouring rain, Mo’s opinion of Garmin Girl was diminishing.

This trip was an opportunity for us to check out as many Camp Club USA parks as possible, and we only came this far south to try out this park. The web site looks great, but if you look at Street View on Google, it’s another story entirely. When we arrived at the River Bend RV Resort, the office was closed (it was barely 2 in the afternoon) and there were some very vague instructions about “finding a site”. We had a reservation, and had no clue where to go because the park is very tight, convoluted, and completely full of old trailers, rv’s, campers, all surrounded by old cars and trucks.

While I stood around looking helpless, the owner showed up saying, “Oh, I was just making a map for you”. He charged me the half price fee of 24 bucks a day, and then said, “Wi-Fi is free for one hour a day, otherwise there is a 6.00 charge” . What?? It didn’t say THAT on the internet. He proceeded to give me a huge spiel about the high cost of real estate in Sonoma County and how he didn’t let anyone else stay in his park for a measly 24.00, and didn’t I realize that there were 150 wineries within a fifteen minute drive and he wasn’t about to pay for free Wi-Fi for people who just abused it by downloading movies. Hmmm. It was also interesting reading the “rules”. My favorite was the one warning about going in the river intoxicated, and another one referred to no loud partying after 10PM. Interesting clientele, I think.

Our site was right on the river, a bit away from all the permanent residents, so that was a relief. I think we are the only people in the park who aren’t permanent. I decided to do some laundry, going back and forth in the rain, dealing with the dryers that quit when the power went out from all the rain, but of course the timers didn’t quit and I lost 4 bucks. Froggi Donna, another blogger, asked recently what we love and what we hate about RV’ing and last night I through that what I dislike most is the dang laundry thing.

I decided to read the “101 Things to Do Sonoma” for some ideas about the area. Unlike the Mendocino publication which was full of great information, this one had page after page of wineries and restaurants. I guess if you are in Sonoma, you are supposed to go wine tasting and then eat. Ha. Mo and I both love wine, but the wine tasting thing sometimes just seems way too expensive and pretentious for either of us. I’d rather go kayaking and buy my wine at Trader Joe’s or Costco. Maybe a nice wine tour would be a fun thing to do another time, but not this time.

We settled in after supper and listened to the hard rain, drowning out most of the heavy traffic noise from the highway nearby.