campgrounds – Page 5 – The MoHo and Other Traveling Tales

September 10 to 12 Baker City to Wallowa Lake State Park

Currently in Rocky Point, Oregon, partly cloudy at 55 degrees F, predicted high of 64F

Don’t forget to click on the photos if you want a bigger version

Sometimes when we are traveling, our tendency is to go fairly long distances between locations. This time, however, we took our own sweet time getting from place to place, and then settled in to really enjoy the countryside. After the morning in Baker City, we thought it might be fun to wander off on some back roads instead of sticking to the Interstate. We could see the curvy road ambling northeast rising on the southern foothills of the Wallowa Mountains.

How bad could it be anyway?! Sure, the road was narrow, there were curves, but no real spooky drop-offs like the ones back in John Day Country, and we were rewarded with beautiful vistas of the Wallowas and the Eagle Cap Wilderness shining in the late summer sunlight.

It is amazing to me how many tiny little towns are scattered across this part of Oregon. Of course I knew of Baker City, La Grande, Pendleton, Joseph, and Enterprise. I do actually live in this state. But I had never heard of Cove, or Union, or Medical Springs, and as we continued our travels for the rest of the trip, many little towns appeared that were just blips on the map, and a blink of the eye.

People lived in these little towns, there were city halls, and fire departments, police stations, antique stores advertising “used antiques”. Hmmm. There were old barns, and beautiful ranches, and miles and miles of open space. It was lovely to wander through the countryside and imagine what it must be like to be born and raised in places like these, or to live there now. Did these people grow up here or did they somehow choose to come to a tiny town in the far reaches of Northeastern Oregon. Lots of fodder for the imagination as I rode along, for sure.

As you can see from the map, there is really no way to get to Joseph without skirting the amazing Wallowa Mountains. Home to the Eagle Cap Wilderness, these mountains are sometimes called the “Little Alps of Oregon” with good reason. Formed dominantly from granite from the Wallowa Batholith, the peaks are glaciated and dotted more than 50 apline glacial lakes. They reminded me a bit of the Sierras, only a bit more open like the Big Horns. The Wallowas are one of the premier backpacking destinations in Oregon, not nearly so well known as the Cascades with their volcanoes, but much more enticing to me.

The meandering route gave us just a taste of what was to come in the far corner of our home state. Somehow I was reminded a lot more of the Idaho I lived in for more than 30 years than the Oregon that is now my home. Everything felt so familiar, the forests even smelled different, familiar somehow. I recognized the plants, the geology, all of it was like coming home somehow.

Just like a lot of other folks, I thought, “I could easily live in this place”. The winters are long, the population of Wallowa County is a mere 7,500 or so, and shopping is far away in La Grande or Pendleton. But the towns are lovely, well cared for, the vistas are magnificent, the land open and spacious. Beautiful.

When we arrived at the Wallowa lake State Park in early afternoon, we were a day early for our reservation, but in spite of the crowded park, there was a site open for us until our space was ready the next day. We originally planned to stay longer in Baker City, but continuing to the lake and taking our chances for a spot was a good plan. When we first planned this trip, I didn’t think we would need reservations, but checking the State Park website was a good hunch, since we just barely snagged a spot for the four nights we wanted to stay.

Wallowa Lake is home to one of the best examples of glacial topography in the West, and images of the huge lateral moraines are used often in textbooks on geology and geomorphology. The lake is deep and blue and incredibly clear. Often the mountains still have a bit of snow in late summer, but none was left this year, a low snow year for the entire area. The lake was really quite low as well, surprising since it is a natural lake and not a reservoir, but I guess drought is drought, and lake levels will go down.

After settling into our one night spot, we took the Tracker for a visit to the Forest Service Information Center on the edge of the little town of Joseph. The woman at the desk was incredibly helpful, and there were a ton of brochures about the area. She suggested we try the Lostine Creek Scenic Route, maybe hike up Hurricane Creek, or go check out the Zumwalt Prairie to look for wildlife. All good ideas, but we settled on Lostine Creek, a deep glacially cut valley that climbed back into the Eagle Cap Wilderness.

We hoped for some close-up views of the mountains, but the creek is so deep in the canyon that it is hard to see much without actually doing some of the 12 mile hikes into the back country that boast elevation rises of 3 to 5 thousand feet. Maybe not today. Let’s go back to the campground and check out the local nature trail and let Abby swim in the lake.

It was good to be settled in and to know that we had at least one day of doing not much of anything. Mo had surprised me with the idea of a special birthday treat, and in a couple of days we were going to drive the Hells Canyon Scenic Byway to Hells Canyon Dam and a big adventure on the Snake River in the wild and scenic part of Hells Canyon.

After a great sleep, we took our time enjoying the campground, went to town to do some laundry and actually check in on the internet for a bit, and were back in camp in time to move to our more permanent site for the next few days. This is a very popular park, even in late September, and on this Wednesday morning as we tucked into a rather short space, I was again really glad I had made reservations the previous month before everything was completely gone.

As I picked up the new tag for the new site number, I overheard a very sad RV driver complaining to the park ranger in the kiosk, “I NEVER make reservations this time of year! What do you mean there is NOTHING?!” Blue lake, big mountains, cute town….a very popular place.

Finally in late afternoon we wet out on the lake in the kayaks to enjoy that gorgeous clear water. The mountains are so high that the sun disappears fairly quickly on the tucked away part of the lake, but it was still beautiful. There are lakeside homes all along the western shore, most of them very big and spendy looking, and only a few of them with folks hanging around on the decks and porches. Even so, the lake was reasonably quiet, and the kayak time was nice.

We never did see a lot of birds around. I suppose the shoreline is too rocky, the lake is too low, and the water too clear for bird food in any quantity. As lovely as the lake was, and even with that gorgeous clear water, I think I would rather meander around in an estuary somewhere that has a bit more complexity. Don’t get me wrong, it was a beautiful kayak and it felt great to finally get our boats out on the water. We originally planned to try doing some kayaking on the John Day River, but the drought wasn’t about to let that happen. I hate it when we haul the boats for miles and miles and never get them on the water!

Mo had packed up a good amount of wood for the trip, so we had another huge campfire after supper and enjoyed all the activity of a very busy campground with kids on bikes, lots of dogs (well behave and leashed) and giving Jeremy a chance to play around outside unhindered. We even put up the chili pepper lights on the MoHo awning, something we haven’t done in a very long time. There are some more photos of the state park linked here

September 8 to 10 John Day to Baker City

Currently we are back In Rocky Point, Oregon. Cloudy and light rain, 43 degrees F

Sometimes I can just sit down at the computer, open up the photos of our travels, and all the memories come flooding back. It is easy to write and remember what we have seen and done. Other times I look at the photos, I remember, but writing about it just doesn’t quite come as easily. Makes me glad I made the effort to write about our days in John Day Fossil Beds while they were happening.

Our original plan this summer season was to stay home, to enjoy our own state, and we did just that. There are parts of Oregon that are very familiar to me. The corridor north and south along 97, the corridor along I-5, the road over 140 to Medford, the roads east to the desert. I have traveled along Highway 26 to Idaho in the past, but never had the time to really linger and explore. This month we took that time and it paid off with beautiful back roads, amazing vistas, and good memories.

Donna over at Travels in Therapy mentioned Clyde Holiday State Park, and we changed our original plans to overnight at the fairgrounds in John Day in favor of this lovely patch of green along the John Day River. I have been trying to read and catch up on blogs, and have been surprised at the number of people traveling in this area, often just a day or two apart from us. Funny how each of us sees something different, or writes about it differently, but many of the photos are similar.

It was a short respite in the two week trip where we actually had telephone and internet service, giving me time to catch up with phone calls and check on bank accounts. I was surprised at how the internet, email, telephone messages, all seemed so necessary and yet so intrusive. I love being connected, but it definitely can be stressful sometimes. Almost as stressful as not being connected. Still it was wonderful to hear my daughter’s (plural daughters) voice and to get missed phone messages from my son and other friends.

Clyde Holiday State Park is right along the highway, just a few miles west of John Day. It is a bit like camping in a large city park, with grass and a nice river walkway, and a place to build a campfire.

There are teepees for rent that were locked up, but looked as though they would be quite cozy. It was a busy park, and without a reservation, we were glad to arrive around 2 in the afternoon after traveling south from Fossil. We got a nice back-in spot, and settled in for the evening after driving in to the town of John Day. We were in the midst of the Cycle Oregon event, with hundreds of cyclists camped for the night in the fairgrounds. It was definitely a place where the bicyclists had the run of the place, and we had to be especially careful driving around town.

The next morning we ambled a very short distance east along highway 26, and then highway 7 toward Baker City. On the way we stopped at Bates State Park, and wandered through the brand new park built to commemorate the tiny logging town that once existed there. Visiting with the camp host was a treat, and there were only 2 rigs in the entire park. The trees are young, there is no internet access (he told us we could drive a few miles to milepost 6 to get a phone signal). He said his busiest weekends might have up to 7 rigs in the park. We enjoyed his down home conversation, and loved his description of camp hosting in such a quiet park.

The Union Creek Forest Service campground seemed much more inviting even without hook-ups than camping in a city RV park jammed up against the interstate 84. We wanted to spend plenty of time at the Oregon Trail Interpretive Center, and still have plenty of time to explore Baker City, touted as an amazing place to visit by all the Travel Oregon booklets we had been collecting. 9-09-2013 Sumpter Dredge

Not far west of our evening destination, however, was a turn-off to the historic town of Sumpter and the Sumpter Valley Dredge. As we approached the old gold mining town, the huge piles of tailings left behind by the dredge were evident all along the drainageway. I was familiar with dredge gold mining from other areas in the Idaho mountains, and have tried to map soils on landscapes forever altered by hydraulic mining in California. But I had never actually seen a dredge or understood how they work. If you are interested in the actual mechanical workings of the dredge and its history, click here.

This huge dredge was used in the Sumpter Valley from 1935 to 1954. It was interesting that during this time there was a second gold rush to the area, and it lasted until the price of gold again went too low to make it profitable. I appreciated the Oregon State Park volunteer that offered incredibly detailed information about the dredge, its operation, and back stories of the people who lived in Sumpter and ran the dredge. The little museum room at the state park had a nostalgic photo album of the reunions of original dredge workers over the last decade.

When we arrived at the park, the lot was almost completely empty, but as we started to leave, some kind of amazing parade of vintage cars entered town and turned into the park. I think there must have been 50 to 100 cars, all shiny and perfect, and they all poured into the lot as we were leaving so we got some nice close up looks at them. Sure did look like those folks were having a great time in their old cars.

For more photos of the Dredge and Sumpter click here

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We arrived at the campground, just a few more miles down the road, opened up the Fantastic Fan for Jeremy, and drove the short 20 miles into Baker City. Just 5 miles east from town is the Oregon Trail Interpretive Center. The building sits high on a hill, with a magnificent view of the Blue Mountains to the west and basin and range country to the east. It was hot when we got there, even though it was late afternoon, so Mo walked around with Abby while I explored the center. Of course no dogs are allowed inside, and the trails, while open to dogs, were made of hot asphalt, not good for doggie paws.

I enjoyed an hour in the various exhibits, then walked Abby while Mo took a turn. When she came out, we decided that it really was too hot to try to hike down to the Oregon Trail wagon ruts, but from the high point you could see the scars in the desert where thousands of people fled their lives in the east for the Promised Land of Oregon.

I have no idea why but somehow the stories were depressing instead of inspirational to me. I felt the pain, the sadness, the death and loneliness of the trail. There was a special exhibit of narrated stories of individuals traveling that was especially touching. I could see young women, pregnant or with young children, following their husbands wild dreams into new territory. They left behind friends, family, and familiarity and in most cases never saw their loved ones again.

Made me think of how much I love to travel, and yet how much I love to be home, how much I love to be able to talk to my kids, or even get a text or a facebook post from them.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….. the Oregon Trail Interpretive Center

It was a wonderful exhibit, but definitely left me feeling somewhat pensive. I was glad when we returned to our hot, dry, very open and very empty campground to all the comforts of our “covered wagon”. Good food, water, a toilet, a shower, lights, shelter, all taken completely for granted most of the time, but not on this night. As I fell asleep I was still haunted by the stories of the trail. More photos of the Interpretive Center are here.

The next morning we continued east to Baker City, leaving late enough to be leisurely, and yet early enough to explore what we thought might be an area that would require several hours if not an entire day. Our first stop was the visitor center, which was closed on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. Great. We finally found a sign outside where there were a few brochures, and picked up the Walking Tour Guide. Whew! At least we could see some of the famous historic buildings and have a clue what they were about.

We walked the town, a bit disappointed with the guide that didn’t include even half of the buildings that we could see with Historic Register signs on them. The galleries were a bit disappointing as well, with one of them actually lit with fluorescent lights, and many of them not even open. Geez, it is only September! The nicest parts of town were the beautiful Geiser Grand Hotel, although we were only allowed in the main part of the lobby as unregistered guests. We also were impressed with the Carnegie Library, now a city art center that seemed full of life and activity. 9-10-2103 Historic Baker City

Baker City was once the Queen City of the Mines and was considered a cultural oasis in the emptiness of Eastern Oregon. There were restaurants, fine hotels, orchestras and opera, and beautiful elaborate homes. By 1900, the population was nearly 7,000 people, more than either Boise or Spokane at the time. We enjoyed parts of Baker City, but didn’t find a lot to keep us there more than a couple of hours. I would say that the Chamber of Commerce has done a great job of promoting their town, they got us to go there, but we still didn’t spend any money.

September 6 Broaden your horizons, with KFSL

Fossil, Oregon: Rain and 56 degrees F

We had big plans for today, following winding roads slipping through John Day Country, seeking out one of the more distant units of the John Day Fossil Beds. Instead, this morning it is raining, and we are listening to….cowboy rap….bluegrass…blues…with a bit of jazz thrown in for good measure. This is why people should travel, it broadens your horizons. Not just those big city travel destination kind of horizons, but the small, not so backward farm town kind of horizons.

Where else could you eat your breakfast listening to someone sing about the joys of “Home Grown Tomatoes”, and then a gravelly crazy guy playing an incredible acoustic guitar while he talks about his therapist telling him “there’s something damaged and something missing” and his brain is stuck in the on position and he is stuck in his brain behind his face?? Then comes along a cowboy singing about his mother reading him the Bible.

We could be home watching the news and doing a normal life, but instead we are in the Wheeler County Fairgrounds in the tiny town of Fossil, with only one available radio station, no TV, no internet, no phone even. Instead, we get this great DJ with a great sense of humor, and a few home grown ads thrown in for KFSL radio, and Fossil Mercantile, locally owned and operated. Where in the world does he find music like this?

It is raining and gray today. The road to Fossil yesterday, along another Oregon Scenic Byway, Journey Through Time, however, was bright and clear once we left the Cascades behind us. There are a couple of ways to get to the John Day Fossil Beds, and when planning this trip, I discovered that no matter where we stayed, no matter how we navigated our visit, there would be lots of backtracking.

It seemed that Fossil, and the Wheeler County Fairgrounds would be a good starting point, so we routed up Highway 97 17 miles beyond Madras, to turn east toward Fossil on a less traveled road than the easier Highway 26 route to John Day. The road was fine, narrow, winding, with lots of ups and downs and more than a few drop offs that always make this passenger a bit testy.

Mo is a great driver, and in my head I know things are fine, but that doesn’t stop the adrenaline from running and the body from tensing up as I look at the no shoulder cliffs right below me in the passenger seat. I would rather drive than ride on these kinds of roads, but it was a Mo driving Day.

Last night we had wild thunderstorms to accompany our return drive to the Clarno Unit of the John Day Fossil Beds. We passed by earlier in the day, deciding that we would return the 20 miles or so to hike after we settled into the fairgrounds. I was hoping for that great sunset light that makes for non-ordinary photos.

The Wheeler County Fairgrounds are up on a hill above the tiny town, and we have a view of the surrounding hills, two beautiful white church steeples out the windows and an American flag flying high above the field below us. There is an empty trailer next door, and another one down the way, our only other neighbors in this 12 spot campground. There are plain envelopes at the old wooden kiosk to use for depositing your 25 fee in the box. It says 3 bucks to dump and 3 bucks to use the bathrooms, but we won’t need either. Our site has electric, water, and sewer.

Yesterday, when we arrived, it was 98 degrees and we were happy to have the air conditioning to cool things down for Jeremy before we drove back to the Clarno beds. The storm was incredibly black, and we looked at each other thinking…hmmm…a hike? Not so sure I want to hike in a thunderstorm, but we decided to give it a try anyway.

On the way, we thought it might be nice to try a back road instead of retracing our path along 218, but the road was hidden and unmarked, and I missed it. It was a good thing I did. Another mile down the highway I saw a guy walking across the road to his barn and stopped to ask him where Stone Cabin Road might be. He laughed, and said, “I have seen that Gazateer map twice now, and it’s wrong. That was the road back there and it is a dead end.” He turned out to be a great guy, owning a juniper log mill, and is the one who did the gorgeous posts on the shelters at the Clarno Beds parking area.

He also showed us another side route along Cottonwood Creek where we could go up and down the mountains and see elk and bobcat and something different as we wound our way back to 218. We checked out our planned route to the Painted Hills Unit portion of the monument with him and were happy to find that in fact, it really went through. Always nice to check with the locals, especially friendly ones.

We didn’t see any elk or bobcats, but did see a large group of big mule deer. By the time we intersected again with the highway, the rain was coming down in earnest. Then it started pouring, and as I rounded a curve it looked literally like someone was dumping a giant bucket of water on the road in front of me. I don’t think I have driven through that kind of rain in a long time. OK then, we are going to hike in the Clarno Beds unit…

I have no idea how this happens for us, but when we got to the parking area, the rain let up. Then it stopped completely and there was even a bit of bright light to illuminate the gorgeous palisades.

Just heard this as I am writing accompanied by music and words I have never heard before. “With 100 watts of antenna melting power, KFSL, spanning the expanse from Butte Creek to something or other Summit” . Then after this little ditty, comes another saying “KFSL, a non profit radio station supported by donations from….” OK Then, they never said public radio, but this seems to me to be the very best use of public not for profit radio, a small town where radio would be non existent without it. So far there hasn’t been a speck of news or even a weather report. Hmmmm.

Back to our visit to the Clarno Beds. With no rain in sight, and thunder in the far distant north, we took off on the short Trail of the Fossils, where the signs indicated that with each step we were crossing about 37,000 years. We traveled back in geologic time to 50 million years ago, when the area was a thick lush tropical forest, much like what is found in Panama now. Fossils of more than 300 species of plants have been found here, including nuts and berries. The Clarno Nut Beds and The Hancock Mammal Quarry are the highlights of the Clarno Unit, but neither of these areas are yet open to the public. What?

Ah well, the short hike to the Palisades was beautiful and interesting. There are actually three short trails in the area south of the Palisades, but we decided against climbing the slippery rocky trail up to the base of the arch in the cliffs. The huge lightning strike just across the valley had a lot to do with that decision as well. I know if you even hear thunder it is time to seek shelter, and shelter was a long way back to the car. At least our hair wasn’t standing on end, but the more I read about lightning, the less I like being out in it.

We got back to the car just in time to miss the downpour. How lucky is that?! And I didn’t get struck by lightning either. Winding back along highway 218 to Fossil we had a bit better understanding of the lay of the land. With the ups and downs and winding roads it is very easy to get disoriented here. Obviously, the maps don’t always tell the story, either.

It was a great day, and I can tell from this morning’s entertainment, this day will be great as well, whether it rains or not. We adjusted our plans from hiking in the Painted Hills Unit to driving south toward the Sheep Rock Unit where we can spend some time in the Thomas Condon Paleontology Center.

Next: Sheep Rock Unit and some great hikes

September 4 If a Tree Falls In the Woods…

Delta Campground on the Mackenzie River Overcast and 58 degrees F

…and if no one is there, does it make a sound? According to our camp host at Delta Campground, it not only makes a sound but it shakes the ground like a large earthquake. Lucky for us, this happened in site 28, and we are camped in site 21. Of course, lucky for us as well, it happened last May, although even more lucky for the campers in site 27 when this giant ancient cedar went down.

I guess that is one of the wonders of an old growth forest, technically more the 200 years old, but this one has trees up to 1000 years old tucked away. It is amazing to see what an old growth Douglas-fir forest actually looks like, since almost all of our forests in the west have been cut or burned over in the last couple of hundred years.

So, how did we end up on the Mackenzie River on the west side of the Cascades when our travels were taking us east to the John Day country? Two words: Junction City. Fellow RV’rs who come west are probably familiar with this RV sale and repair location in Oregon. For us, Guaranty RV in Junction City is where Mo found the first baby MoHo back in 2005. A sweet little used 2001 21 foot Dynamax Starflyte, the baby MoHo served us well, and hooked us on the Dynamax brand.

We have had our “new” MoHo for nearly six years now, and she has served us exceptionally well. However, there are just a couple of little things that after six years we have decided to change. For one, the mattress was one of those cheap things with old springs that would sag to the plywood foundation with a little weight. We added a memory foam topper, but it still sagged and was the source of many a 2am Advil run for me.

New mattress on the agenda! I had researched online a bit, and came up with a specially made mattress for about 800 bucks, including shipping. Seemed a bit spendy, but cost was irrelevant when it came to my back.

Second thing that we finally decided to change was our lovely leather FlexSteel sofa that makes out into a queen sized air bed. Beautiful sofa. We never once made out the bed. When we first got the MoHo it looked so nice and classy. And it is comfortable enough, but really just for one person who wants to stretch out and watch tv. The seat is curved in a way that makes the middle the only easy place to sit, and of course when company comes we bring in the folding chairs. Our driving and passenger seat don’t swivel.

We have some nice little folding tables that we bring out for meals, but the configuration isn’t really optimum. Solution? Let’s get one of those big u-shaped dinette units that we see in some of the newer rigs! So again, a little research led me to Countryside RV Interiors in Junction City. They didn’t have those big FlexSteel units, but would gladly build us a very nice U shaped dinette for about 5,000. Yeah, that is dollars!

Hmmm, maybe not. We looked around a bit more, and Mo found this great looking dinette from Flexsteel that still makes down into a bed in case we might need one for whatever reason. The leather matches our existing driving and passenger seats, and there are drawers for a bit of storage as well. We took the MoHo over to Junction City for consultation, measurements, and we ordered the nifty FlexSteel unit, scheduled to arrive in October sometime. Just a little over half what the custom made unit would have cost us.

Steve and Terri at Countryside Interiors are great, they have a good inventory, and can order anything and install it for you. They pointed us to American Mattress in Eugene to find a mattress. They actually make mattresses there, and have an entire showroom for testing. The salesman tried to point me to different kinds of foam, but I know they will break down and I wanted a real coil mattress. Finally I found a firm one and knew that it what I needed, no sagging coils, no bending on the sides, but cushy enough on the top for old bones. That’s it, I said.

Ok then, give us a couple of weeks and we can cut it down to fit. Our mattress is one of those 3/4 full things that has an angle cut off on the end. Perfect for the tight space, but a bit weird to replace. Long story short, that is why we traveled to John Day via Eugene and Junction City. I now have a new mattress and it feels great!!! Finally. And the cost was just over $400, less than half the price of the mattress replacement I found online. Good job American Mattress!

Of course, if we were going to be in Eugene, we would have to get back over the Cascades to go east. I thought we had traveled up the Mackenzie Highway in the past, so planned that route and found the Delta Campground on the internet at the Willamette National Forest website. It looked like it would be a good stop and it was.

We landed at 3:30 in the afternoon, under cloudy skies. There wasn’t one single camper in the entire campground of 37 sites and the camp host was nowhere to be found. We wandered through trying to decide, you know how it is with too many choices. Site 21 appeared, with a nice big tree between us and the road, a pull through site, and closer to the picnic table than most. We just pulled in and didn’t bother looking at the rest. Turned out great, because it was one of the best sites.

After settling in, we walked back two sites to the head of the short interpretive trail through the forest. With three wooden bridges crossing Delta Creek, and a meandering path among the old giants, it was a beautiful, gentle walk. I don’t think I have ever seen Douglas-firs this huge and the one old hemlock that was 1,000 years old is definitely the biggest I have ever seen. These trees aren’t as big around as some of the redwoods, but they are more than 200 feet tall. Just amazing. This collage is four photos of the same tree, bottom to the top

A tree that doesn’t look quite as impressive, but just as old are the western yews, source of the cancer drug Taxol, and almost completely endangered by the illegal harvesting of their bark. People would strip the bark all the way around, killing the trees, instead of taking only small amounts and saving the tree. These trees only grow in old growth forests, and thankfully a synthetic has been developed so the remaining trees are safe. At least as long as the old growth is safe.

We heated up navy bean soup from home and had a nice campfire before settling into the dark forest for the evening. The camp host showed up as we were sitting by the fire to regale us with stories of the campground, the area, and the big tree that fell in space 28 last spring. He was a nice guy, very talkative, and never said a word about Abby being off leash while we sat around the fire.

We ended the outdoor part of the evening with a nice swim for Abby just down a short walk from our picnic table. The night was absolutely silent and completely dark except for a few winking stars that showed up sometime during the night as the clouds lifted.

Medicine, or dropping off the grid into a Volcano

Medicine is a word of several meanings. As in, Take Your Medicine, or more beautifully, This Place Has Powerful Medicine. Medicine Lake is named for the second meaning, the sacred meaning, but the two seem to overlap here in the deeper meaning of healing, either body or spirit, and of course, both are connected.

Medicine Lake is a small lake in the bottom of a 4 by 7 mile caldera on the Medicine Lake Highlands near the Northern California border. This sweet little lake is just a couple hours drive from Klamath Falls, and yet I don’t often hear of people from Klamath traveling here. Most of the license plates are from California, with folks driving up the nice paved two lane road from Mt Shasta. It is a bit of a drive, off the grid entirely, so perhaps that accounts for the open campsites and quiet lake.

There are no hookups here, no cell phone service, water in the campground but not at the sites. We came ready to boondock for six days, with a full tank of fresh water and empty waste tanks. Generator use is allowed in the campground from 8 in the morning to 10 at night, but we tried to be considerate and except for one early evening movie when the campground was nearly empty, we only ran the generator for an hour or so in the morning to keep up the charge. We were careful and when we left, our tanks still had plenty of room to take on the extra six gallons of water we added with jugs and a funnel. Mo has a small solar panel and although it doesn’t support heavy use, it does keep the charge up throughout the day.

Medicine Lake Highlands has the distinction of being the largest volcano in the Cascades and the largest volcano in California. Unlike the dramatic peaks we are all so familiar with, Shasta, Lassen, Mt Hood and others, this volcano is a broad volcano with dacite and rhyolite lava and obsidian flows as recent as 1000 years ago spreading from the shield volcano for more than 30 miles in every direction. From Klamath Falls, the Highlands can be seen in the distance to the south, unassuming, appearing as a nondescript broad plateau.

Medicine Lake Highland’s volcanic area exceeds 200 square miles in Modoc and Siskiyou counties and encompasses portions of three National Forests including Modoc, Klamath and Shasta-Trinity. Over the last half-million years, volcanic eruptions on the Medicine Lake shield volcano have created a rugged landscape dotted with diverse volcanic features including more than 700 lava tube caves. Some of the most popular features include Glass Mountain, Burnt Lava Flow, Medicine Lake Glass Flow and Undertakers Crater. Medicine Lake has no known outlets yet the water remains clean and clear with inflows only from snowmelt, rainfall and springs.

Driving south from Klamath Falls through Merrill, home of one of the best quilt shops in Oregon, Tater Patch, we continued into California on Highway 39 to Alturas, turning west toward Tionesta 40 miles or so south of Tulelake. The road to Medicine Lake is well marked, but narrow, paved but very rough. Abby and Jeremy complained quite a bit about the thumping, bumping rough sounds of the regular seams across the road. I guess they are created to prevent frost heave on a road crossing soils thick with pumice deposits.

The road rises over 20 miles or so from the juniper sage desert at 3900 feet to high red fir and lodgepole pine forests at nearly 7000 feet elevation. We watched the temperatures drop from the mid 90’s to the high 70’s as we drove. The skies were clear and gorgeous, with just a bit of smoke from the California fires marring the blue. In the past few years, we have planned trips to Medicine Lake, changing our mind at the last minute because of fires and smoke. This time we decided to go anyway, because fires and smoke in the west seem to be a constant and if we wait for no fires, we may never get back to this favorite little place.

We decided to skip the tow car on this trip, instead hauling the boats and bikes in a small trailer. We have traveled here several times, and spent days wandering the forest service roads exploring lava flows, obsidian flows, and taken in the views from the high mountain fire lookouts. This time we intended to relax completely. Without the car, we wouldn’t be tempted to wander any farther than we could go on a bike or our own two feet.

We arrived on a Tuesday afternoon, to find one of our favorite sites wide open. There are three main campgrounds at Medicine Lake, with the first one a bit more open and a sign says not suited to larger rigs. We aren’t quite sure what that means, because the sites are quite large, but the road is narrow. The sites are also not even close to level. We could camp there in a pinch, but the second campground, Hogue, is our favorite. There are a few sites in the upper part that can accommodate bigger rigs, but our favorites down by the lake are a bit small and not level. Medicine campground is the third one in, usually busier with lots of room for larger rigs. The Headquarters campground is farther west on the gravel road beyond Little Medicine Lake, and is very quiet, open and usually empty because it is a bit of a distance from the lake with no lake views. Another place that would do in a pinch if you drove a long distance to camp and there are no reservations here.

Our site 45 has a gorgeous view of the lake, a nice big picnic table down the slope from the rig, and for some reason there are two additional rock firepits added to the big one that was here when we camped last in 2008. A rocky trail leads down to the water and with a bit of maneuvering, we got the boats down to the shore where we could leave them safely for the duration of our visit.

We settled in for a great afternoon of watching the water, watching the sky, playing cards, and I brought out a decidedly sinful and delicious supper of old fashioned hot dogs, baked beans and potato salad that I made the day before at home. The site has only a small drawback. It really is a bit more suited to tent camping than a rig, but we managed to get the MoHo leveled and pulled in far enough that the back end was off the camp road. It is times like these that we are grateful for our perfect length of 26 feet. We can fit most anywhere and yet still have enough room to travel comfortably for weeks or months.

Our sleeping area looked out over the camp road, but there was no one in the site across from us, and the road was quiet, so it wasn’t a serious problem. The night was completely silent, the moon was low and reflected on the lake and the stars were brilliant. I wondered momentarily about the next several days. No internet, no phone, no car. Just a book, a boat, a bike, and a chair. Ahhhhhhhhh.

Next: kayaking, birds, and social life at Medicine Lake