Meandering the Blue Highways

Central Valley Spring 3: Kayaking

Fri, 15 Apr 2022 20:10:00 +0200

In these uncertain times, we are even more blessed to live in this region, which allows us the pleasure of kayaking on nearby Lake Kaweah. Fed by the Kaweah River, the lake rises with the snowmelt in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. As soon it's high enough in spring, we load our kayaks into the VW Westy and drive a leisurely 30 minutes into the foothills for a glorious couple of hours on the water.

Our 1986 VW Westy Vanagon is great for hauling kayaks, here 2 hardshell and 2 inflatable.

Doug's 1st outing this year, in early March,...

...with Steve.

One might say Doug is obsessed with taking pictures of his foot while kayaking. That's Steve in the distance and wildflowers on the hillsides.

Doug and the UCLA hat. His daughter, Katie, is a UCLA graduate, which he is proud to say. But in fact on this day, he forgot his hat, and Steve, whose daughter is also a UCLA grad, loaned him his.

Kayaking amid the wildflowers as the lake rises.

Steve meandering among the treetops.

Our Southern Sierra foothills are loaded with rocks.

Doug was gone a few days, delivering the VW to Bend, OR, for some TLC, then flying home. Now the kayaks have to be loaded into our Promaster van, which is a little more difficult and, Doug says, "Just doesn't feel right."

The Promaster only holds 2 kayaks.

Back on the water later in March...

...with Joel. Doug missed his foot in the pic and got his paddle instead.

In spring 2018, Joel was among numerous folks who kayaked among the California poppies in our front yard.

Turtle sunning on a tree trunk. They are such a grand find.

Lupine (and Doug's foot).

Marilyn had her first kayak of the year a couple of days later. She loved being on the water again and snooping among the trees.

Doug has a sizable collection of fishing bobbers from the lake. Occasionally there is a more impressive find, such as this small basketball he found in the trees that day.

Sitting on glassy water. Can it get any more peaceful?

Marilyn's kayak is inflatable. We have 2. Each has its own suitcase, which makes them great for roadtrips.

Doug, the wildflowers, the foothills, the "Elephant"—just to the right of center in the snow, its ear hangs down and trunk goes right.

Doug has gone out a couple of times with Kathy, who also has an inflatable kayak. We were putting in across from Slick Rock, the sloped rock on the right. It's quite a ways down the road from the parking lot and way downstream from where we put in in good years when the lake is full.

Egret on the left on the rock. Heron in the grass to the right.

Kathy investigating near shore.

We have several pieces of redwood in our front yard that Doug has retrieved from the lake.

Yard art courtesy of Lake Kaweah.

Lake Kaweah wood among the nasturtiums, azalea, gazanias, Gerbera daisies.

Top of Doug's Pi sculpture is wood from the lake.

When Marilyn kayaked again, the water was much higher than 4 days before.

Marilyn spotted someone paddling through the wildflowers.

Handsome guy!

We're always trying to see where and how far we can get—sometimes we run aground.

Marilyn's rubber duckie, found in the trees, now captains her kayak.

Mergansers Left: male, white with black markings. Right: female, brown with reddish head and crest. Baby mergansers are a treat, up to a dozen paddling behind mom and sometimes hitching a ride on her back.

We were able to get a lot further upstream that day.

Kathy navigating turn at the rapids to float back down.

Doug & Steve's kayaks across from Slick Rock.

Steve found a shark!

Heading back downstream. High water is the "bathroom ring" on Slick Rock. Unfortunately, the lake will not get near the ring this year.

By early April, water began to flow over the road down from the parking lot, so were now putting in further upstream.

Steve kayaking over the road.

Steve's kayak is really sleek.

Hm. Now, where?

Doug with Jerry and another redwood find for our yard.

Kathy, her nephew Grif, and his partner, Torry.

The turtle didn't seem to even notice Torry, despite her proximity.

Marilyn's younger son, Stephen, was in town, so he and Doug got in a kayak. Marilyn is unfortunately land bound for now by a recent minor surgery.

Sun protection.

Think Doug can make it through?

Doug texting lake pictures to Marilyn.

Face in the rocks.

Doug took Jerry's daughter and son-in-law. Nick gets a picture of Elana.

When the lake is higher, we put in at the boat launch under the middle tree. Hopefully the lake will continue to rise so we can explore further upstream.

Steve as far upstream as we can get, for now.

Doug was rather proud of getting both feet in the pic.

The water, the wildflowers, the rocks, the hills, the clouds: it doesn't get much better.

Lake Kaweah and the Sierra Nevada Mountains. The "Elephant" is just left of center, its ear on the left and trunk on the right.

We long for the days when we will have heavy snowpack in the Sierras again, and Lake Kaweah will be full. Then we'll kayak far upstream, in and out among the tree tops, spotting more wildlife, challenging ourselves against the rapids until we can go no further, then enjoying the float back down.

Central Valley Spring 2: Foothill Tours

Sat, 09 Apr 2022 02:32:00 +0200

In these very uncertain times, we realize how privileged we are to live where we do and to be able to so enjoy our region.

Just a beautiful day in the foothills to be out and about.

We love living at the foot of the Sierra Nevada Mountains close to Kings Canyon and Sequoia National Parks. The mountains are a summer escape to cooler temperatures (though lately we have been on the road in the summer), offer snowshoeing in winter, and are swathed in wildflowers in spring.
We made our first foray into the foothills this year on January, driving east of town out Yokohl Dr.

Rather than trace our routes, I've tried to show the highlights. Tour 1: Yokohl Dr. & Lake Kaweah. Tour 2: Rocky Hill. Tour 3: Dry Creek—wildflowers.

As we headed out Yokohl Dr, we passed by the cabin built by and lived in by Doug's relative. The lineage is a bit confusing; suffice it to say the builder's son helped raise Doug's mother.

Doug's mother told tales of visiting the cabin near Yokohl Creek. It's the square building in the distant center of the picture.

Close-up of cabin.

Rain greens up California's golden hills.

Numerous contrails were stacked above the clouds that day.

Yokohl Dr climbs up to about 3,000 feet.

View from a switchback nearing the top of Yokohl Dr.

Returning to the Valley floor, we drove by orange, mandarin, and lemon groves. Oranges and mandarins ripen in winter. Some groves had been picked; others were awaiting picking. It all depends on the packers.

Back on the valley floor. Citrus groves near Lindsay.

Agriculture could not survive without farmworkers. Many are migrants and immigrants who follow crops up and down the West Coast.

Ladders and portapotties are delivered to the orchards that farmworkers are picking.

Farmworkers park their vehicles between the rows.

Citrus in the Valley. Rocky hills. Snow in the Sierras.

After cmpleting the Yokohl Dr loop, we continued our outing by heading up to Lake Kaweah.

Along Hwy 198 heading for Lake Kaweah.

We'll need a lot more snow in the Sierras to have sufficient water this summer.

We walked out the old road along the lake. It's under water when the lake is full.

The old road that followed the river before the dam was built.

Kaweah was still a river due to the ongoing drought lack of snowmelt to fill the reservoir. But hopefully soon it will fill enough to cover this area so we can kayak.

Marilyn investigating the hillside for foundations and whatever else may be there from prior days.

Before the dam was built to prevent flooding, folks escaped the Valley's summer heat (often 100+, but a dry heat) to picnic and swim on the Kaweah River.

Remains of a swimming pool near the original river, now filled in by nature.

Of course long before there was a lake, Native Americans lived in the area.

Native American grinding stone near the abandoned swimming pool.

On another outing, we drove around Rocky Hill. It's just east of Exeter, which is where Doug's mom grew up.

Ranch on the back side of Rocky Hill.

Going down the back side of Rocky Hill. Doug used to cycle this route and now walks it frequently.

An amazing picture Doug took.

When friends told us in mid-February the wildflowers were blooming, we headed up Dry Creek Rd into the foothills.

Kaweah River just east of Dry Creek Rd.

Sycamores and fiddleneck along Dry Creek.

Fiddleneck.

Wild mustard (I think).

Valley Oak.

California poppies paint the hillsides.

Cattle ranch. Field of fiddleneck. Poppies on hills beyond--you can tell by their golden, almost orange, color.

Bucolic valley and California poppies in golden swaths on hillsides.

Buckeye trees leaf out early and soon will have dangling clusters of blossoms. In summer, they will drop their leaves and go dormant to conserve water.

Poppies along banks above Dry Creek.

More fiddleneck. Poppies on the hillside on the right.

As prevalent as the white flower is, blanketing fields and hillsides, I have not been able to identify it. If you know, please leave a comment!

Doug and I walked along the river a couple of times, as did Doug and our friend Kathy.

Doug on a path heading upriver along the Kaweah River. When the lake is full, this is under water and we kayak here.

Our friend Kathy exploring upriver.

The "Elephant" on Alta Peak—it's trunk is on the right.

Foundation from previous times.

Looking at the river below and wild mustard from old foundation. You can see the high water mark, the bathtub ring, above the river.

There are wildflowers to be found on these walks, too.

Blue Dicks?

Sierra Primrose.

Doug is very patient while waiting for Marilyn as she takes pictures, this time of wildflowers.

Sierra Wallflower?

Western blue flax?

Eruca Vesicaria, aka, Rocket, related to arugula.

Finally, lupine, with its intense purple.

The picture above is one of Doug's famous kayak foot pics. More on kayaking on Lake Kaweah in the next post.

Central Valley Spring - 1: Home

Fri, 01 Apr 2022 19:25:00 +0200

In this post we take you not on a trek but to our yard. Hope you enjoy the tour.

Kayaking through the poppies few springs ago. Our former Ford Traverse Poptop in the drive.

Two years ago, almost to the day, we posted Certain Spring in Uncertain Times. Now, two years later, our uncertain times are compounded. Yet, we are privileged to live where we do and to be able to enjoy our yard so much.

This year began with some big rains and good snows in the Sierras. Unfortunately the storms did not continue, and the Sierras do not have the snow pack needed to help get us out of a years-long drought.

Rain water overflows the rain chain. by our back patio.

Our back yard patch of lawn gets smaller each year. But when the grandkids come, they have to have some lawn to play on, right? A few years ago we took out the lawn in our front and side yards completely and went xeriscape in an attempt to save water.

Rain, glorious rain poured a couple of times this winter.

Clouds, glorious clouds.

We also had a lot of cold—for us—frosty mornings this winter. Many plants seem to be thriving as a result.

Brrrr—frost on our front yard!

Orientation map. Visalia (in red) is our home town. It's in California's Central Valley. Our section is the San Joaquin Valley. To the north is the Sacramento Valley.

Now, Marilyn's plants. This is her joy throughout the year.

Tulip trees are early bloomers, in February.

Tulip tree blossom. I love to take close-ups of flowers.

Freesias are February bloomers, also.

Creamy white freesia with yellow.

The scent of freesias is lovely, each color slightly different.

Lemon yellow freesia.

We have early miniature daffodils, then traditional daffodils, then a later daffodil. These are the later ones.

Our later daffodils are smaller and more open than traditional daffodils.

Later daffodil.

Violas arrived with a potted plant from my sister and have spread around the yard. We kept the clay pot but passed the plant on to a friend, somewhat to my sister's chagrin.

Violas, aka Johnny jump-ups.

Violas look like miniature pansies, which blooms later in spring. I love that "pansy" comes from the French "pensée," a thought. Don't they just look like they are offering thoughts?

Viola: three petal shapes with yellow and aubergine stripes on just one.

We have a variety of lavender throughout our yard. They bloom off and on throughout the year. The bees, to our joy, seem to love them, and so far have allowed me to cut flowers and prune branches among them at will.

Lavender Hill with its variety of lavenders fills the street corner of our front yard.

I think this is Spanish lavender, but wouldn't swear to it.

Dianthus returned from last year. In the carnation family, they have a spicy, cinnamon-like scent.

Dianthus.

Van Gogh's painting of purple bearded iris from an ant's eye view mesmerized me when I saw it years ago at the Getty Museum in Los Angeles.

Bearded Iris.

Bearded iris remind me of my mom, too, and her purple and yellow bearded iris at the end of our driveway turnaround in Western Pennsylvania. Doug is quick to smile and add that it reminds him of his mom and grandmother, also. Just great memories.

Bearded Iris close-up.

Sutton's Iris Gardens in Boise is the place to buy iris. They can be ordered online. Sutton's used to be in our area and had an Iris Festival each spring with just an astonishing variety of colors. The structure variety of bearded iris is also fascinating. We have two bearded iris from them that are reblooming iris and seem to bloom year round!

Reblooming bearded iris. Its petals are much more ruffled than the purple one above.

Quite a few years ago, we planted an ivy geranium by one of our front yard Japanese maples. We have to keep an eye on it so it doesn't take over the rest of our drought tolerant front yard.

Ivy geranium.

Such a sassy curl to the ivy geranium petals.

Hummingbird sage, one of our numerous sages, also spreads voraciously. Doug worries that it will overrun his Pi sculpture.

Hummingbird sage and Pi. No, it is not held together by glue or nails. Doug is a master rock sculpture creator, until it falls down.

Hummingbird sage.

We bought our first strawberries of the season on March 17 from the Hmong family plot down the street. We are now on our second six boxes. The Hmong, hill people who lived in Laos and assisted the Americans during the Vietnam War, began moving to the Central Valley in the 1970s. I was fortunate to have many Hmong students in my high school classes in the 1990s-2000s. A book for beginning to understand Hmong history and culture is The Spirit Catches and You Fall Down. I absolutely recommend it.

The Hmong grow amazing strawberries in plots all over the Valley.

I have my personal garden just outside my workroom—how lucky can one be to have both? Last year, I planted gazanias, which will spread.

I love the variety of petal patterns and shades of orange, yellow, and pink of gazanias.

Also in the plot are nasturtiums and Transvaal daisies.

It's interesting that the old-fashioned nasturtiums come up each year, while the modern ones rarely appear.

Transvaal, aka, Gerbera, daisies, produce intense oranges, pinks, whites, yellows.

Calla lilies in my plot came from my mom and dad's yard and also multiply at will.

Calla lilies.

Our cold winter produced a few tulips this year. As for family connections, Doug seems to just smile each year we have a tulip show up—seems it was the favorite flower of his father.

Those colors and notched petals! Tulips close at night.

I've heard that in order to survive our hot summers, tulips must be planted extra deep or dug up and refrigerated each year. Since my gardening philosophy is benign neglect (I don't ignore plants, but nor do I coddle them), when we first received our order from a visit to Washington's Skagit Valley tulip farms, I just tried to plant them very deep.

Tulip close-up.

So our tulips stay deep in the ground, and when we've had a cold winter, a few of them bloom.

I was determined to get a picture that shows the deep purple stamens.

When I first moved to Visalia from Fresno, in 2007, I was dismayed by the lack of birds. I was accustomed to them being in the neighborhood year round, chirping, warbling, whistling, and singing. Doug promptly bought bird feeders.

A goldfinch visited this year.

We have a resident family of scrub jays each year. They provide endless entertainment: flying lessons, exploring for food on their own, playing king of the fence, discovering the bird bath.

The scrub jay contemplated the bird feeder for awhile before planning its attack. It landed successfully but didn't hang on long.

Doves have nested in the eaves above the back patio fountain for years, despite our best efforts to dissuade them. They won a life-time pass the year Doug wedged a broom into their spot, upon which one of them got on the handle and dislodged it.

Life with scrub jays can be precarious for doves. You'd think they'd nest in a less obvious spot.

These are not local birds but rather sandhill cranes we spotted in a field driving through an area north of us.

Sandhill Cranes.

We are lucky that our neighborhood has two green spaces.

The neighborhood park also serves as a ponding basin to collect storm run-off.

We also have ditches around the perimeter on two sides of the neighborhood that continue for a half mile or so each way. They are especially pleasant to walk along when there is water running.

Ditches carry storm run-off and water for farmers.

We have three citrus trees in our back yard.

Regrettably this is a Valencia orange, best for juicing, not a navel, better for eating.

Our Eureka lemon tree produces prolifically, though Doug always says from the looks of some of its branches it should be dead.

We should get all the lemons off the tree before it blossoms.

We originally thought the mandarin was a naval orange. It was going to get a severe haircut this year—until it covered itself in blossoms.

Mandarin blossom.

A couple of years ago we bought a 6-pack of artichokes and planted 2. We thought the first year's astounding growth and surprising production were due to a nearby leaky irrigation valve.

Artichoke.

But it keeps putting out new plants and we have to keep hacking away gigantic leaves a couple of times a year.

Doug doesn't eat artichokes at all and I can only eat so many, so they mostly go to our neighbors, who love to barbecue them.

We had some volunteer sunflowers come up again this year.

Last year's volunteer sunflowers had huge, traditional blooms. This year's are smaller...

...and sort of ruffly.

It's a bit of a relief when the California poppies bloom, proving that those are not weeds surrounding the front yard's drought tolerant plants.

California poppies not yet open for the day...

I'm curious why the poppies in the foothills, where it is cooler, bloom long before ours.

...and open in the sun.

California poppy.

There is much else that we enjoy in our region in the spring, so we'll be following up with more posts.

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The Long and Winding Road from California to Washington, Part 11: California, Here We Come

Mon, 28 Feb 2022 21:13:00 +0200

November 11-13, 2021

On Veteran's Day, more than 5 weeks since leaving home, we left Oregon, continuing south toward home. Just over the stateline in California, we stopped at Battery Point Lighthouse Park, in Crescent City.

Battery Point Lighthouse, Crescent City, CA

Doug opted to stay on the beach, while Marilyn walked up to the lighthouse on its island. With the tide coming in, part of the usual path was underwater, so Marilyn followed others across the alternate narrow path of stones.

When the tide comes, the paved path to the lighthouse is underwater.

Once across the water she scrambled over rocks to the main path, reminding herself not to linger at the lighthouse, for the stone path, too, would soon be under water.

Marilyn walking up to Battery Point Lighthouse.

Fuel House. In front is the foundation from 1907 water tower.

Keeper's House. Today, volunteers live onsite 2 months at a time.

12,000-gallon water tank, no longer in use, next to lighthouse.

View north from lighthouse grounds. Crescent City is to right.

View south from lighthouse grounds.

From Crescent City, we continued south along the coast on the Redwood Highway.

Once again we realized how beautiful this area is.

Redwood Highway.

Construction on 101 is not unusual due to its being right on the edge of the ocean bluffs.

At Thanksgiving, Doug's son and daughter-in-law would be taking a 3-day excursion from Bellingham, WA to Trinidad, CA, so Andrew could show Devon the redwoods. It's a mere 1,300 miles roundtrip. Yes, like his dad, he likes to drive. We cautioned them to allow extra time for construction on 101.

Pacific Ocean to right.

Crossing the Klamath River Bridge, we recalled earlier in our trip discussing the politics of the Upper Klamath River Basin when we were in Tulelake, CA and Klamath Falls, OR. (For more on this, see Marilyn's upcoming post: Hooptedoodle.)

Klamath River Bridge Golden Bears.

A little west of the bridge, on Klamath River Road, the original concrete bears guard the remnants of the old bridge, which we once stumbled on. The 1964 flood took out the bridge, as well as the town of Klamath. Highway 101 was moved further east and a new bridge built.

Remnants of original Klamath River Bridge with concrete bears.

We'd decided to try a new place, Emerald Forest RV Park. It turned out to be further from Trinidad than we'd hoped. If the rain hadn't made the grounds so muddy, we might have wanted to return. But we did encounter wonderful mushrooms, which Marilyn wrote about in The Long and Winding Road from California to Washington: We Pause for Marilyn's Mushrooms.
In the morning, we drove into Trinidad, a favorite spot on the coast.

Trinidad Head and Bay.

We were surprised to see a lighthouse in the harbor parking lot and empty ground on the cliffs in town where Memorial Lighthouse used to be. It's a replica of the real lighthouse, built to display its Fresnel lens.

Picture of Memorial Lighthouse from a previous trip, before it was moved.

Climate change and unstable ground combined to force the removal of Memorial Lighthouse to the harbor in 2017. The original plan, according to a Los Angeles Times Article, was to move it back 20 feet. Howver, Trinidad residents, descendants of the Yurok village Tsurai that once occupied the bluffs, say the land contains ancestral burial grounds.

Memorial Lighthouse once stood just down the path.

So the lighthouse was instead moved to the harbor, but there it sits on Trinidad Rancheria land. The upshot is an ongoing dispute between the two tribes and the city.

Memorial Lighthouse in Trinidad Harbor.

Meanwhile, Trinidad Head Lighthouse is still functioning. When originally finished in 1871, it aided ships involved in the Redwood Coast's lumber trade as they entered Trinidad Bay.

Trinidad Head Lighthouse.

Marilyn was going to put California lighthouses on the map above, as she did for the Oregon map, but there are too many. Hence the maps below for those of you who may also be lighthouse fans.

We have visited lighthouses marked with a purple asterisk.

A bit south of Trinidad, 101 heads inland around the Lost Coast. It's a 50-mile stretch of coastline that is very steep and very rugged and deemed too much so to build Hwy 1 along it. It was dubbed the "Lost Coast" in the late 1930s, when most of its population left. Marilyn's research led her to an interesting read, Gem of the Lost Coast.
We were headed to Fort Bragg, and so faced a decision at Leggett: drive 80 miles south then west, or drive 44 miles west then south. A no-brainer, right? Well, Hwy 1 to the coast, the "short" route, is a barely 2-lane, steadily descending road with nonstop curves and switchbacks—hair-raising even in the best weather. We (meaning Doug) once drove it in the lumbering MRV in pouring rain on a very dark night. This time the weather was splendid! "Hwy 1!" said Marilyn. Hopefully the video below works, but if not, we've added a few pictures to give an idea of the road.

Driving Highway 1 from Leggett to the Pacific.

Curve after curve.

And downhill around a curve.

And another hairpin downhill curve.

Last turn, the Pacific at our 12 o'clock.

And the reward: spectacular views of the Pacific.

Arrived at the coast, Doug parked to enjoy the view. Then he announced that he would never, ever drive that route again.

But we did find that Westport Union Landing, a favorite campground, had reopened.

Hwy 1 looking toward the Lost Coast.

In Fort Bragg, we checked in at Harbor RV Park, where we enjoyed an unobstructed view.

Our grand site had views of the Pacific and the Noyo River.

We arrived just in time for a glorious sunset.

We joined others on Pomo Bluffs to watch sunset over the Pacific.

Doug especially enjoyed taking pictures of this photogenic seagull.

Clouds lifting to reveal a last burst of color.

Alas, no green flash.

Although we could spend a few more days on the road, we decided it was time to go home. So in the morning, we continued south on Hwy 1 to Albion, where we said goodbye to the coast. SR 128 took us inland through more of California's redwoods in Navarro River Redwoods State Park.

Navarro River Redwoods State Park.

We passed through Boonville, where we'd enjoyed coffee on a previous excursion. It's know for the Boontling language, which originated there in the late 19th century. Some say it was made up by men working the hop fields to speak privately; some that women created it for gossiping; and some that children made it up in order to speak freely in front of their parents. It was also used to confuse outsiders. With a population around 1,000, the language is becoming extinct, but the local Anderson Valley Brewing Company pays tribute to it by printing Boontling words on its containers. Being in Anderson Valley, Boonville is also known for its wineries, and it hosts the annual summer solstice Sierra Nevada World Music Festival, sheepdog trials and the Mendocino County Fair.

We arrived home just at sunset. Our 5-1/2-week trip had taken us 5,346.1 miles through California, Arizona, Nevada, Oregon, and Washington.

We'd driven 5,346.1.

22,654 miles on our Promaster van in 2 years, 1 during the pandemic, when we took no long trips.

Another amazing trip. 5-1/2 weeks. 5 states. 5,346 miles. Visits with family and friends. And the van now had well over 22,000 miles.
Now to get ready for Thanksgiving with Marilyn's sons and their families: Andrew, Emily, Leah, 8, and Hudson, 6; Stephen and Jessie. The plan was a walk through General Grant Grove in Kings Canyon National Park, so Leah and Hudson could experience the Giant Sequoias for the first time, then a picnic.

General Grant Giant Sequoia

Kings Canyon National Park

The Long and Winding Road from California to Washington, Part 10: Still Heading Home - Oregon

Mon, 21 Feb 2022 23:03:00 +0200

November 4-11, 2021

What to say about the Oregon Coast, except it is spectacular? We spent a week working our way south along it. First stop was Astoria across the Columbia River from Washington.
The Astoria Bridge rises high over the Columbia to allow for passage of ships heading out to sea or to ports further inland. Doug will tell you it is his favorite bridge, even when driving over it in the snow.

Astoria Bridge

We checked into nearby Fort Stevens State Park...

Marilyn showing off Uncle Robert, aka, Conchita, our Promaster van.

...and found that our campsite came with visitors!

Welcome to Oregon! Elk wandering through our campsite to check us out. Can you blame them? Yes, we gave them a lot of room.

Doug headed to the beach.

Wreck of the Peter Iredale, 5:50 PM.

In the morning, we drove back to Astoria to stroll around the town. It's one of Doug's favorite places. He's often said he could spend a month there, but he has yet to do so.

Entering Astoria. Thanksgiving was coming up.

Astoria Bridge from the waterfront.

Looking waterfront toward the town, which climbs up the hills. Astoria Column rises at the top.

Our next stops were out on Clatsop Spit, at the mouth of the Columbia River. This was a great find.

Columbia River beach access on Clatsop Spit.

Ships require a pilot when entering and exiting the Columbia due to the large sand bar at its mouth, which has earned it the name "Graveyard of the Pacific."

We concluded the cargo was rather large windmill blades.

On the other side of the spit is South Jetty. It's 6.5 miles long, and is one of three jetties built of rubble between 1895 and 1939, to make entering and exiting the Columbia safer for ships. We climbed to the top of the observation tower and the top of the jetty.

Looking out to sea on top of 6.5-mile-long South Jetty.

The King Tide was made even wilder by the wind.

Looking toward shore from atop the jetty.

Then it was a stop to look at the Peter Iredale again. The 4-masted sailing ship made of steel ran ashore a bit shy of the Columbia River in 1906.

Wreck of the Peter Iredale.

Our final stop before leaving Fort Stevens State Park the next morning was Seafarer's Park.

We were dry, rather a rare event of late, but to the west were rain and rainbows.

The park includes a memorial to the very young crew of the Coast Guard lifeboat Triumph, out of Point Adams. They capsized in the gigantic waves of a huge storm while trying to rescue the fishing vessel Mermaid in 1961.

Memorial to Coast Guard crew of lifeboat Triumph.

Numerous Coast Guard boats and aircraft were involved in the attemped rescue.

Looking across the Columbia River to Washington.

Lighthouses in purple we either have not visited or did not visit on this trip.

The day took us to Tillamook Creamery for our traditional huge double-scoop ice cream cone.

Miniature Steam Locomotive next to Tillamook Creamery

We drove west and around Cape Meares, the northernmost cape on the Three Capes Scenic Drive.

Cape Meares

When the Cape Meares Lighthouse was in operation, ships could see the flashes from its Fresnel lens 21 miles out at sea.

Cape Meares Lighthouse

Cape Meares Lighthouse standing sentinel.

Fresnel lens.

Rough seas below the lighthouse.

Cape Meares Lighthouse is the shortest on the Oregon coast.

Up the hill from the lighthouse is the Octopus Tree, a sitka spruce. The actual origins of its unusual shape are unknown, but one story goes that it was sculptured by the Indigenous People in the area centuries ago.

Octopus Tree: 105 feet tall, 46-foot circumference, 250-300 years old.

After a brief stop at Oceanside Beach, we went on to Cape Lookout State Park for the night. It'd been a 90-mile day, with just over 2 hours of driving.

Oceanside Beach

Did we say we love the Oregon coast? The next day we made a another short hop of 58 miles to Beverly Beach State Park, where we camped in our favorite site. At night the roar of the ocean was rather calming.

Beverly Beach State Park.

We walked under one of Oregon's amazing arched bridges to get from the campground to the beach.

Logs were washed all the way up into the stream that runs through the park.

Beverly Beach

Looking back toward the bridge we'd walked under to reach the beach. Oregon's bridges are works of art.

Oregon's beaches are so expansive.

The following day we bypassed Cape Kiwanda, the third loop on the scenic drive. Just before Newport, we drove out to Yaquina Head Lighthouse.

Yaquina Head

Bald eagle surveying his domain on Yaquina Head.

Yaquina Head Lighthouse

We'd driven 39 miles total for the day when we pulled into Tillicum Beach Campground, another favorite. To our amazement, we scored a site right on the cliffs above the ocean.

Tillicum Beach Campground, Suislaw National Forest.

Tillicum Beach

It's fascinating to watch shorebirds move in sync with each other.

It appeared that plants and houses hanging on to the eroded cliffs might not last much longer.

Doug took beautiful shots of the stream's water sculpting the sand.

Rock layers. No wonder the cliffs erode so easily.

How did the mussel shell get there?

Doug taking in the view, such a peaceful spot.

The next morning we had the van all packed and were doing our last look around when we began to question our decision to leave this amazing place. So we unpacked, paid $14 for another night, and smiled. Being self contained, no need for water or electricity, makes things rather easy.

The rabbit along the path to the restrooms was unconcerned by our presence.

The second day we explored the area and then ventured out to dinner at the Drift Inn in Yachats. Our friend JR highly recommended its razor clams...maybe next time.

Uncle Robert in Yachats, OR.

Beach at Yachats.

Yes, the brakes were on.

Marilyn enjoyed Yachat's pastel beach cottages.

The next morning, nothing like a good stretch before getting back on the road.

Lighthouses in purple we either have not visited or did not visit on this trip.

Our first stop in the morning was Heceta Head Lighthouse. We'd often seen it, but never stopped to walk up to it.

Heceta Head Lighthouse

Heceta Head Lighthouse and service buildings.

Waiting for Marilyn to head back down....

Looking across at Heceta Head Lighthouse.

Just down the road is Florence, another favorite town, with its marina and Old Town under the bridge along the Suislaw River. While Doug got coffee and explored, Marilyn hit the local quilt shop. She bypassed a fabric she thought would look cute for the back of blanket she crocheted for granddaughter Leah. When she met Doug back at the van he insisted they return to the shop. He declared the fabric perfect, and another sale was rung up.

Leah's blanket; back is fabric Doug insisted Marilyn by. It IS perfect!

In case you haven't noticed, Marilyn loves lighthouses. So our next stop was Umpqua River Lighthouse, which is surrounded by Coast Guard Housing.

Umqua River Lighthouse

Marilyn has always thought of making a quilt of lighthouses. To that end, she scored at two quilt shops on the trip, where she picked up lighthouse applique patterns.

Applique patterns for 9 of Oregon's 11 lighthouses, plus Cape Henry in Virginia.

In addition to its lighthouses, Oregon has wonderful bridges on 101 that are works of art. Most were designed by Conde McCullough, Oregon's state bridge engineer, from 1919 to 1935.

Cape Creek Bridge.

The concrete and steel bridges include elements of classical, Gothic, Art Deco, and Modern Art.

Rogue River Bridge.

The construction of 101, with its bridges over rivers and estuaries, replaced the numerous ferries that previously had to be used to travel the coast.

Suislaw River Bridge.

In addition to wide beaches, the Oregon coast is punctated by huge rock formations.

South of Port Orford.

Near Gold Beach.

Cranberry bogs South of Bandon—just in time for Thanksgiving!

Our last stop for the day, another favorite place, was Meyers Creek Beach, where the Oregon coast is at its best.

Meyers Creek Beach.

Oregon coast rocks.

We camped on our last night in Oregon at Harris Beach State Park in Brookings near the state line.

Harris Beach State Park.

We'll be back, Oregon!

We still had a week before we needed to be home—lots of time to enjoy the Northern California coast.

The Long and Winding Road from California to Washington, Part 8: We Made It! - Washington

Thu, 17 Feb 2022 04:18:00 +0200

Note: We've already published the post that comes after this one, Part 9, our travels in Washington after leaving our family and friends, so this is a bit of catch-up.

October 21-31, 2021

We arrived in Seattle after 17 days on the road. Now for a new chapter of spending time with friends and family. Our friends Michael and Ellen had again graciously offered their condo in the Belltown section for our Seattle stay. That made it so easy to visit Katie and Javier, Doug's daughter and son-in-law, who live in the Central District.

View from our friends' Belltown condo: looking across Puget Sound to West Seattle.

Add our friends Tim and Diane offered us their extra car, as the condo parking would not accommodate the van. They even let us park the van in front of their home while we were enjoying Seattle. Once again we realized that we are blessed.

During the day, we hung out with Katie and Javier in their 3-story townhouse. The bedrooms are on the 2nd floor, an office on the 1st, living quarters on the 3rd, and balconies on the 2nd and 3rd.

Lots of windows and a balcony bring the outdoors in on Katie & Javier's 3rd floor living area.

Katie & Javier relaxing—she was 7 months pregnant.

Marilyn & Katie chat while prepping hors d'oeuvres.

Fall colors and brisk air made for wonderful, refreshing walks.

We were forced inside one day while the rain and wind pounded on the windows. Thank goodness for the warmth from the gas fireplace.

Note the rain streaming down the windows.

Proud dad with daughter and son-in-law.

Checking out the nursery and equipment for the baby, due in mid-December.

Marilyn bent her knees to get across the height difference...

After wonderful days with Katie and Javier and a promise to return once their wee one arrived, we left them and Michael and Ellen's condo. We retrieved the van from Tim and Diane's , then took the 20-minute Mukilteo Ferry to the south end of Whidbey Island. There we visited Cindy (Katie and Andrew's Mom) and her partner, Steve, in Langley.

On the Mukilteo Ferry.

First stop on our tour of the area with Cindy was the beach where she and Steve had exchanged vows. It was under water due to the high tide and a ferocious wind.

Behind Cindy and Marilyn is the beach, under water, where Cindy and Steve made their vows.

How do you say wind blown?

The next day, we returned to Tim and Diane's, in the lovely wooded community of Woodway. Doug and Tim have been friends for decades. Doug helped Tim outfit his van for camping. That night, we enjoyed a splendid dinner in nearby Edmonds with Tim and Diane, Michael and Ellen. As we were in a private room and all staff were masked, we felt safe.

Fall colors on tree-lined Woodway street.

Next stop was Deception Pass State Park, a 90-minutes drive north to Burlington, east to Fidalgo Island, and across Deception Pass Bridge to the north end of Whidbey Island.

Deception Pass from bridge.

We pulled into our site, then went for a walk. It was a beautiful sunny day.

Deception Pass State Park.

The campground is on Cranberry Lake and a short walk to the ocean.

Strait of Juan de Fuca.

Looking toward Fidalgo Island and Anacortes.

Offshore island where Katie and Javier once camped.

Deception Pass Bridge in the background.

Marilyn on Cranberry Lake opposite campground.

Sunset over Cranberry Lake and Strait of Juan de Fuca.

Will there be a green flash?

Huge logs were washed up on the beach.

Lingering over the sunset.

We checked out Anacortes in the morning. We'd hoped for coffee, but places weren't open or did not have covered outdoor seating, for it was raining again.

Fun drainage in Anacortes.

Snug in the van with the rain pattering overhead.

Saturday we had an early rendezvous with Andrew and Devon, Doug's son and daughter-in-law, in the Fairhaven section of Bellingham. We took the boardwalk over Bellingham Bay to Woods Coffee.

The boardwalk was a bit icy, so we proceeded with caution down the sloping beginning section. At least it has multiple benches on one side we could crash into if it came to that.

Boardwalk over Bellingham Bay.

Proud dad with son, Andrew, and daughter-in-law, Devon.

Arabesque sculpture in inlet.

Andrew and Devon.

Woods Coffee, our destination.

Cool metalwork inside Woods.

Looking toward Fairhaven Ferry Terminal from which we sailed for Alaska in 2017.

Devon, Andrew, Marilyn. Yes, Doug's kids are all tall, as are Marilyn's. Marilyn is...not tall.

Back at the house, Doug and Andrew decided to walk to nearby Whatcom Falls Park. The discovery of the park about a half mile from the house cinched the deal when we bought it.

A stream flows from Lake Whatcom through the park...

...ending in a waterfall.

Whatcom Falls last summer. We have seen water roaring over the falls, but Washington has been in a drought.

We also went for a walk in Marine Park in Fairhaven.

Andrew and Devon, Marine Park.

Canadian mountains seen from Marine Park.

Our visit with Andrew and Devon was short as we wanted to give them part of the weekend to themselves before they plunged back into another busy work week. Andrew is in IT, and Devon is an elementary school Speech Language Pathologist. We returned to Tim and Diane's for the night, then in the morning began our trek home.

Our GPS said that a direct drive home was 15.5 hour/979 miles. But remember, we Meander the Blue Highways and wanted to enjoy the Washington Coast. So with 2 weeks until we had to be home, we headed west for the Edmonds Ferry and the Olympic Peninsula. After enjoying that area, we'd continue down the Oregon Coast.

The Long and Winding Road from California to Washington, Part 9: Heading Home - Olympic Peninsula

Sun, 06 Feb 2022 18:10:00 +0200

November 1-4, 2021

After ten grand days with family and friends, it was time to head to our next destination, Port Townsend. First we took the Edmonds Ferry to Kingston, enjoying the chilly half hour crossing on deck. We love ferries and take them every chance we get, sometimes just for fun.

From Kingston, it was another half hour to Port Gamble, where Doug turned off to drive through the former lumber town. Many of its New England style homes have been restored and today house stores and restaurants. When he asked if Marilyn wanted to stop anywhere, she said there was a quilt shop, but she hadn't liked it on a previous visit. Doug suggested she go in anyway...and she reappeared quite a while later, with a bag of fabric.

Yarn, fabric, and patterns from the many quilt and yarn shops Doug stopped at for Marilyn during our trip. He is always so patient and supportive of her creative endeavors.

Shortly we were crossing the floating Hood Canal Bridge and recalling the wonderful ten days we'd spent along the Hood Canal with Doug's kids last summer. To allow marine traffic through, the spans on one or both sides of the floating bridge lift, and the floating sections retract under them. Tides and winds can close the bridge to vehicle traffic, so it's always wise to check its status prior to arrival.

Port Townsend viewed from Hudson Point. Chandlery is on left.

Soon we arrived in Port Townsend. We headed directly to the Point Hudson Marina and RV park at the far end of town to check into our favorite campsite. It's dry site (no services) right on the water next to the dock, with unobstructed views of boat and ferry traffic. Most of the sites with hookups have views of their neighbors' RVs.

Our favorite Port Townsend campsite next to the harbor and Port Townsend Bay.

Port Townsend has an added significance to Doug. His father was in the Coast Guard during WWII and for two years was stationed at the Coast Guard base that is now the Point Hudson Marina.

Camped right on the harbor and bay—what could be better?

Doug getting shots of the ferry heading from Port Townsend to Coupeville, on Whidbey Island.

It was cold and off-and-on rainy while we were in Port Townsend, apparently great weather for seagulls. One sat in a puddle next to our van, while others stood by the water in the wind, getting soaked by the waves. It made us cold just to look at them!

We don't use our house heater much, as it is fueled by the gas tank, so after a rather cold first night, Doug checked with the office, and for a small additional fee, we were able to pull ahead to a site also on the water but with hookups. Now we could run our portable electric heater to our hearts' content.

Our new site, with hookups, still had an unobstructed view out the side.

We always enjoy exploring Port Townsend's downtown and uptown on foot. We masked to stop in a couple of stores but did not feel comfortable lingering.
At the far end from the harbor is Quimper Mercantile Store. Marilyn has always wondered if there was a connection between it and Quimper, France, known for its pottery painted in primary colors and featuring folks in traditional Brittany garb. Marilyn has a couple of pieces of it.

Pottery of Quimper, France, not Quimper Peninsula, WA.

It turns out Port Townsend is on the Quimper Peninsula, and Quimper was a Peruvian-born French-Spaniard who helped chart the Strait of Juan de Fuca in the late–18th century.

Storm clouds at sunset from our site, November 1.

Sunrise, November 2.

Doug enjoys being around boats being hauled out.

Doug warm in his newly acquired watch cap just like his son's.

Our traditional Port Townsend vehicle pic, here by the ferry dock. Note, there are two ferries in the background, one arriving in Port Townsend and the other getting ready to cast off to the Coupeville Terminal on Whidbey Island.

Departing Port Townsend after two days, we meandered through Uptown and residential areas, then out to Fort Worden, which is now a state park with a conference center and two campgrounds. We've stayed there when Point Hudson was full.
Then it was time to truly begin the trek home...but we still had 12 days, so plenty of time to meander.

Heading west on the Olympic Peninsula.

We headed west on the Olympic Peninsula. Around Port Angeles, we passed a digital sign that might have something about long delays near Crescent Lake, but we can't read very well.

Lake Crescent in the fog and rain.

As we drove beside the lake, there began to be a lack of traffic coming toward us, and we became suspicious of what that sign might have said. Soon we slowed to a stop behind a long line of traffic and next to another digital sign. This one clearly stated that the road would open again in two hours. Hmmm. What to do?
We decided to wait out the delay at Storm King Ranger Station, which we'd investigated en route. So we made a U-turn. Then the low tire light came on. What? We'd bought new tires in the spring and had them rotated and balanced before the trip. Doug pulled over and checked all the tires. The passenger rear was low. Feeling around the tire, we thought we heard a noise and felt air leaking.

Oh, boy! It is raining, and we have a flat tire!

Lake Crescent, heading back to Sequim.

Long story short, we parked at Storm King Ranger Station, Doug filled the tire with our emergency pump, and Marilyn called AAA. An hour later, the tire had not lost pressure, AAA was nowhere to be seen, and the rain continued. Another call to AAA. A young man arrived in another half hour. The tire was still holding pressure. After a conversation, it was agreed that it was probably feasible to drive to Sequim but stop and monitor the tire pressure on the way. If it went down, we would call him, and he would change the tire.

Lake Crescent, heading back to Sequim.

   So off we went for the Discount Tire in Sequim, the same as Americas Tire in California, where we buy our tires. After a couple of stops to confirm the air pressure was still good, we arrived in Sequim.
   It took the Discount Tire employee exactly about 90 seconds to find a small metal piece, about the size of a pen clip, embedded in the tire. Discount Tire provided their habitual amazing service, and within an hour the tire was patched. Meanwhile, Marilyn walked through the parking lot, up two flights of stairs, and down the sidewalk to the Grocery Outlet. She returned with six heavy bags, thereby getting her workout for the day.
   All was good, but it was getting dark, and we needed a campsite. As we headed back through Port Angeles toward Lake Crescent, Marilyn found a campsite at Shadow Mountain RV Park, not spectacular, but a place to lay our heads.

Lake Crescent, back on track heading west.

The next morning we drove by Lake Crescent—no construction delays this time—and continued around the Olympic Peninsula. It was raining and foggy, which made it exciting when big logging trucks appeared out of the gloom barreling toward us.

Fall colors, rain, and fog. Lake Crescent on the right.

Logging is a major industry and a way of life for many folks in California, Oregon, and Washington. Logging and lumber trucks, land that has just been logged, and plots of new trees are all frequent sights along the road. As logging companies work with a variety of lumber mills, we smiled when we saw lumber trucks heading in opposite directions.

Logs heading north to a lumber mill.

And more logs headed south to a lumber mill.

Often rows of trees are left to somewhat shield from view an area that has been clear cut, but sometimes trees have been dropped right next to the road. We kept reminding ourselves that the harvesting of trees to provide wood for building homes and many other uses is another form of agriculture.

New growth in harvested plot with older trees behind.

At least today, cutting old growth forests has ceased. The trees that are cut have been grown to take to market.

Logs and sawn wood at saw mill.

We all love wood furniture, wood fences, and our dwellings, which are usually framed with wood.

Lumber headed to market.

Since it continued to rain, we continued to drive—as we meandered down the Pacific Coast, rain would be a constant. It would be nce if some of it could go further south to our area, but that is another story.

Crossing the Chehalis River in Aberdeen.

Rivers were flooding and mudslides were closing roads.

Driving along the Willapa River in Raymond.

Each time we go through Raymond, there are more of the delightful two-dimensional metal figures of animals and people it is known for.

"But, Mo-o-om!"

Heron, deer, and raccoon enjoying Raymond's green space.

We might soon need a canoe, too.

Raymond runs into South Bend, where we stopped at a favorite coffee shop, Elixir. With only a couple of other people and the staff wearing masks, we felt relatively safe relaxing inside for a while.

Wallapa River from inside Elixir Coffee Shop.

We also always stop at Elixir to check out Chauncey's Chair. Chauncey is the name our friend Tim acquired when he helped us on numerous occasions fixing up the house and yard of our house in Bellingham when we first bought it.

Chauncey's Chair, Elixir Cafe, on Wallapa River, South Bend, WA.

We continued down the coast to Ilwaco, then along the Columbia River. It looked grand but not where we'd want to be, with waves whipped up by the wind. Then it was across the Astoria Bridge, which climbs high over the river to allow ship traffic to pass, and into Astoria, OR.

Driving along the Columbia River. Astoria Bridge near center of photo and Astoria, OR beyond.

We found our campsite at Fort Stevens State park, then returned to Astoria, another favorite place. The rain had stopped, for now, allowing a stroll around town.

The Long and Winding Road from California to Washington: We Pause for Marilyn's Mushrooms

Sun, 06 Feb 2022 00:26:00 +0200

November 2021

I know nothing about them, other than to enjoy eating them, but mushrooms fascinate me, and I love taking pictures of them.

I've always used "champignon" for mushroom in French, derived from Latin, and used with slight variation in numerous other languages.

The first mushrooms I saw on our trip were on the fence along the path to the Octopus Tree up the hill from Cape Meares Lighthouse on the Oregon coast.

Cool ruffles and black markings.

Back of above mushroom and, to left, where the stem had been.

Opening toadstool providing a bugbath?

A more orangeish version.

Mushroom Dance: Some are more flamboyant than others.

Drooping mushroom, exhausted from the dance.

Scientifically, a toadstool is the same as a mushroom. The word seems to have come into use around the 16th century, meaning literally a stool for a toad, as heard in folk and fairy tales.

And who shelters under this lovely toadstool?

I was on hold on the phone in a soft rain in the parking lot at Harris Beach State Park in Brookings, Oregon, when I started to notice the mushrooms around the tree. I had plenty of time to get in under the branches to take pictures. They weren't as colorful as those by the Octopus Tree, but interesting nonetheless.

"Mushroom" may be derived from another Old French word, "mousseron," meaning "moss," perhaps referring to mushrooms that grow in moss. Mousserons can mean a fairy ring (a circle of mushrooms growing in grass), meadow mushrooms, or St George's mushroom. The latter refers to the fact that this type of mushroom typically appears in Britain and Ireland by April 23, St. George's Day.

An emerging mushroom reminded me of Kleanza Creek Provincial Park in British Columbia, where we could practically see the mushrooms grow. We would spot them barely emerging. Then when we returned a couple of hours later, they'd be fully above ground. And later, they were even taller and bigger. It was the most amazing thing!

Emerging mushroom.

Such gills and ruffles!

My third mushroom spotting was on the stump of a tree at our campsite at Emerald Forest in Trinidad, California. It was my reward for the very tight campsite and all the rain and mud.

The large horizontal mushrooms tiered down the tree stump, brown and sometimes slimy on top, white on the edges and underside.

Like plates with wavy and ruffled edges.

Underside.

Toadstools found a home with shelter.

Mushrooms on mushrooms.

It took me quite a while to get the last picture and it still didn't come out completely in focus. I was entranced by the mushroom standing alone among the ferns on its slender black stem with white pointed cap.

Et voilà. Probably a good time to stop with etymology, and I won't go into edible versus inedible, as it quickly gets confusing.

A Memorial and Quarantine Camping

Tue, 25 Jan 2022 18:22:00 +0200

January 11-14, 2022

   Last week, I drove the Dodge Van to El Centro to attend my amazing Aunt Ruth’s memorial. She was always there for me, so going to her memorial was an honor.
   As it is still the time of Covid, though Marilyn very much wanted to accompany me to the memorial, I went solo in the van and camped. We discussed protocols and decided I would test before leaving (negative), not visit anyone on my way down, and isolate after the memorial for three days before arriving home and taking a test at our clinic.
   I arrived at Borrego Palm Canyon Campground in Anza Borrego State Park just before sunset.

The skies at Anza Borrego were just amazing.

The Long and Winding Road from California to Washington, Part 7: Oregon & Washington

Sun, 23 Jan 2022 06:11:00 +0200

October 19-21, 2021

We headed north from frosty Tulelake California. Across the border in Klamath Falls, Oregon, we noticed we'd driven 2,733 miles since leaving home 2 weeks before. We could have driven directly from home to Seattle, a distance of 964 miles, in 1 day—or 2, if we wanted to take it easy.

2,733 miles in 2 weeks and more to come.

From Klamath Falls, it was 450 miles/8 hours to Seattle via I-5. But what was the hurry? We still weren't due there for 3 days. So instead, we drove 620 miles and enjoyed more amazing country and sights.

First we checked out Sun River, a resort community a little south of Bend where Marilyn's older son and his family vacation each summer. After an hour and a half over coffee, we decided to go back south to LaPine State Park on the Deschutes River for the night. The day's total: 3 hours of driving, 167 miles--perfect!

Relaxing over coffee at Sunriver OR

The Long and Winding Road from California to Washington, Part 6: North through California

Thu, 06 Jan 2022 02:08:00 +0200

October 15-18, 2021

After ten days on the road enjoying Arizona, we were back in California making that right hand turn for Washington to spend time with Doug's children and a few friends. We now had six days to work our way to Seattle—plenty of time to meander and explore. For Doug this was rather comfortable, for his usual MO is to drive there in one day.

California: Day 1: East Side of Sierras. Day 2: South Lake Tahoe. Day 3: A Blustery Drive to Susanville. Day 4: Tulelake.

If we had driven I-5, the fastest route to Seattle, the drive would have been 1,159 miles and 18.5 hours. We actually didn't drive much further—1,295 miles—or longer—24.75 hours. But instead of divided highways and looking at vehicles for hours on end, we wandered up two-lane roads with great vistas in all directions.

Driving north on the east side of the Sierras.

As we drove north on the east side of the Sierras through the Owens Valley we again savored the views of the valley, the Sierras to the west, and the White Mountains to the east. In the early-20th century, water rights in the area were sold to Los Angeles. Large pipes were built on the west side of Owens Valley to carry the water to LA. If you've ever driven over the "Grape Vine" on I-5 South, you've probably seen the huge pipes snaking over the hills. Almost a century later, LA agreed to stop diverting as much water, but what was once farmland remains vast open space, and dangerous dust rises from the alkali that covers much of the lake bed. Marc Reisner's excellent 1986 book Cadillac Desert documents the political wars over Los Angeles water, and in the 1974 film Chinatown, Jack Nicholson plays a private detective who in his investigation of of her matters uncovers corruption in a Los Angeles water project.

Owens Lake with the White Mountains to the east.

Alkali covers much of Owens Lake bed. We recently read that there has been an attempt to reduce the hazardous dust by coating parts of the lake.

Our first night out of Barstow was to be the Alabama Hills. The area sits below Mt. Whitney with amazing views and rock formations. It's a place we love and have boondocked at numerous times, twice in the spring of this year. We reached the Alabama Hills about 3:00 PM, the perfect time to stop according to our 300 miles or 3:00 PM rule. Unfortunately, we didn’t check Campendium before going there, and, to our surprise, we found that camping is no longer allowed in our favorite area on the west side of Movie Rd.

Alabama Hills: Mobius Arch with Mt Whitney beyond.

BLM personnel at a pop-up site informed us this was due to folks loving the place to death. Rather than appreciating the beauty, too many people were loud and left their trash behind. Now camping is limited to a bit over 50 sites on the east side of Movie Road. It definitely is a loss to those of us who would have been willing to dedicate time to help clean up the area in order to keep it open.
We drove Movie Rd through the rest of the area but found no sites available. It was already 4:00 when we again consulted Campendium. The app once again led us to a great campground, Pleasant Valley, though it was another 70 miles to the north.

Pleasant Valley Campground on Owens River north of Bishop.

Once we figured which sites were available, we found ourselves camped on on the Owens River in a spacious and quiet spot. We'll definitely return.

The next morning, we headed back to Bishop to buy bread at Schatt's Bakery before continuing north to Mono Lake.

East side of the Sierras north of Bishop.

Once we arrived at the Mono Lake Visitors Center we found that it was already closed for the season. Fortunately the area had many informative signs, which we enjoyed.

Mono Lake has two main islands: Negit, on the left, and Paoha, the larger, on the right.

Like Owens Lake, Mono Lake had its water diverted to Los Angeles for decades. The water level became so low that a land bridge formed from the lake's shores to Negit Island, which allowed coyotes easy access to the annual migrating bird populations. Several organizations were eventually successful in reducing the amount of water sent to LA and restoring the lake to a level that again allows for a safe stopover on the Pacific Flyway.

Mono Lake tufa towers.

In addition to the water wars, Mono Lake is known for its tufa towers, white calcium deposits.

Rubber rabbitbrush (yellow flowers) and big sagebrush on shores of Mono Lake.

9- X 13-mile Mono Lake was beautiful under seering blue skies.

After an enjoyable visit it was off to South Lake Tahoe to visit Marilyn's sister and brother-in-law. Enroute we were saddened to see the burnt areas from the summer's Tamarack and Caldor Fires. Our visit with them in August had been cut short by the Caldor Fire, which eventually forced all of South Lake Tahoe to evacuate for a week. Our initial plan was to stay another day so Marilyn and her sister could spend more time together, but once again nature had a different plan. The weather reports were ominous, so we were back on the road north by noon the next day.

We were on 395, which from Tahoe dips into Nevada before returning the California.

The wind was again blowing. Just south of Hallelujah Junction CA, there were warning signs.

Um...that would be us...

Yes, our van is designated "high profile," but unlike the VW buses that Doug has driven for decades, it stayed in the lane.

Only 75 miles to go...

Johnstonville is just south of our night's destination of Susanville, or 75 more miles of amazing wind. There were huge clouds of dust, in addition to the gray and puffy white clouds, moving across the sky.

Clouds of dust blew across the landscape,...

...across barren fields,...

...and across the road.

Driving once again got a bit more exciting for awhile, and a few gusts definitely got Doug's attention, but that was it.

Except for the dust, it was a beautiful drive past fields of alfalfa...

...headed for happy California cows that were hunkered down amid the dust storm.

With the wind making it even colder, we decided against boondocking that night. We arrived in Susanville in time to buy a couple of items for the van, then checked into Days End RV Park, another Campendium find. It was everything the review said it would be, and for only $35: pleasant owners, neatly kept campground, electricity to run our electric heater and not use gas on the gas-powered one that lives under the passenger seat. Marilyn was pleased that not only was the bathroom impeccably clean and the showers plenty warm, but it also had everything a woman can want in a shower stall when camping and usually doesn't get: a seat, shelves, and multiple hooks. There was even a basket of soap, shampoos, and conditioners! And we could have done laundry if we'd needed to. An additional treat was the rooster at the neighboring farm that woke us in the morning—in time to enjoy the night's snow on the roads.

Snow heading north out of Susanville.

   We didn't know where we were going except roughly north toward Bend, OR. Looking at the map we did the obvious: take the less-traveled route north to Alturas then east.
   As we approached Tulelake, we saw signs for Lava Beds National Monument, and decided we'd drive through it. Despite AAA maps, GPS, and Google maps, we missed the turnoff and found ourselves in the town of Tulelake. Doug found the only gas station—a single pump outside a tiny market—by following his very capable nose.
   Before going back to Lava Beds, we wanted to stop at the former site of the Tule Lake Internment Camp, now a national monument. It was 1 of 10 such places around the country in which Japanese-American citizens were forced to live during World War II,surrounded by barbed wire and guard towers. Tule Lake was the last to close, not until 7 months after the war ended.

Entry gates and remaining building at Tule Lake Internment Camp.

The camp's buildings and land were then offered for free or little money to encourage people, including WWII veterans, to homestead in the area.

Marker at Tule Lake Internment Camp.

At Lava Beds National Monument Visitors Center, we learned that all but 3% of the monument had been burned over the last two years, 70% by the 2020 Caldwell Fire and another 27% by the 2021 Antelope Fire. Grasses and shrubs are beginning to return to the 2020 burn area, and hopefully areas burned in 2021 will begin to recover over the next year.

97% of Lava Beds burned in 2020 and 2021 wildfires. Juniper— the blackened trees—will hopefully come back.

Medecine Lake Volcano, which has been erupting off and on for half a million years, created the lava beds. The monument's 73 square miles cover only about 10% of the 410-acre volcano, which forms a hill to the south of the monument.

Medecine Lake Volcano underlies the lava beds and forms a hill to the south (we're not sure if this is the volcano or one of many cinder cones).

Another bit of local history is the Modoc War. The Modoc Indians lived in this area for thousands of years. Beginning in 1826, with the determination of the US to claim more and more land, white settlers began to move into the area. The two groups lived cooperatively, but in 1850, California's first governor decided the Modoc should be exterminated. In 1864, the Modoc were forced to move to a reservation in Oregon.

Modoc dugout canoe of Jennie Clinton, the last survivor of the Modoc War.

In 1872, Captain Jack (Kintpuash) led half the Modoc tribe back to Tule Lake, where they hid in the caves of the lava beds, which were well-known to them. By wit and determination, a mere 58 warriors held off 1,000 soldiers for 8 months. General Canby was among those killed, which included only 6 Modoc. The US spent the equivalent of over $8 million in today's dollars on the Modoc War, at the end of which the Modoc were again deported from their land. Their descendants live in Oregon and Oklahoma.

The Modoc also made canoes of bundled tule stalks. (Photo from Lava Beds Visitor Center.)

In 1906, the Bureau of Reclamation began the Klamath Project to provide water for irrigation to develop farmland in Northern California and Southern Oregon. As part of the project, beginning in 1908, Tule Lake was periodically drained. Settlement was encouraged through a homesteader lottery for land. For eons, Tule Lake had been an "intermittent" lake, at times cut off by lava flows from Medecine Mountain Volcano, at times overflowing from precipitation, and at times so low it had no outflow. Since the Klamath Project began, there has been ongoing conflict between farmers and environmentalists. In 2021, the conflict over water rights heated up substantially.

Doug at our Indian Well Campground site.

Leaving the Visitors Center, we made our way to Lava Beds' Indian Well Campground, which was all but empty. We chose a spacious site on the outside of a loop with 360-degree views.

Indian Well Campground, Lava Beds National Monument: camped amid burnt trees.

Marilyn thought the picnic tables made of wood and lava rocks were some of the most artistic she'd seen.

We were in a burn area from the recent wildfires, yet there were signs of life.

In addition to lava, there are many cinder cones like the one in the background.

We are forever reorganizing the van, Marilyn the inside and Doug the garage, of the perfect system.

Marilyn's latest reorganization of the overhead kitchen cabinets.

We so enjoyed our latest addition to the van, new drawers that run the full depth of the garage. These have simplified organization there and eliminated all the bins Doug used to have to sling around.

Drawers have made garage organization infinitely better. Removable table on right side is for cooking on our 2-burner camp stove. Marilyn made the pocket organizers on the doors.

Ever the optimists, we'd brought our inflatable kayaks, but unfortunately they remained in their suitcases the entire trip.

Inflatable kayaks are in the 2 gray suitcases.

At the Lava Beds we experienced one of the coldest nights of the trip, but despite the cold and the frosty campground, Marilyn was up and out early to make coffee. (Doug is pampered, often getting his coffee in bed, even when traveling.) On her trek to the restroom she greeted the workmen who were already busy constructing a new handicapped site.

Marilyn braved the frost to get coffee going on the JetBoil outside.

We opted to enjoy our coffee inside the van with the heater on before getting on the road again.

Icey windshield. Yes, it was cold!

With its caves and lava tubes, Lava Beds is popular with spelunkers. Doug couldn't resist checking out a couple of cave entrances before leaving and persuaded Marilyn to descend the ladders, also.

Ladder into cave--we didn't go beyond the entrance.

Marilyn courageously entered a cave.

When bats are in residence, caves are closed.

Numerous holes lead to caves, not all of them covered, so you have to be aware when walking on the ground above. We would like to return when we can actually explore further

Marilyn walks cautiously around a cave, wary of hidden holes.

Hole dropping into cave partially hidden by brush.

We were glad to see new plants emerging from the landscape blackened by wildfires.

Sagebrush reemerging after the wildfires.

Bunchgrass & rabbitbrush.

Rabbitbrush buds.

Leaving Tulelake, our van odometer reached 20,000 miles. Not bad for not quite two years since we bought it, including a year of pandemic, with little travel.

We reached 20,000 miles of travel in the van in less than 2 years.

Now, where should we head as we continued north toward Washington, since we still weren't due for three days? Doug was comfortable, Yet, he thought, less planning means more flexibility...

Note: For those, who, like Marilyn, are linguistically and grammatically inclined, the spelling is Tulelake for the town and Tule Lake for the internment camp, the lake, and the national wildlife refuge.

Alaska 1: The Ferry

Wed, 29 Dec 2021 23:54:00 +0200

June 24-29, 2017

After prepping for our trip to Alaska in every way we could think of; helping to move Doug's son Andrew and wife Devon from Quantico, VA, to Bellingham, WA, where they now rent our house; and spending time in Washington with friends and all of Doug's kids, it was almost departure day.

Doug decided to move Father’s Day to our departure day, and so on Saturday, June 24, for the first time ever, all of Doug's family were together: daughter Katie and husband, Javier; Andrew and Devon; and us. We had lunch at Mambo Italiano in Fairhaven, the more upscale area of Bellingham, where the ferry terminal is also located.

Drew, Devon, Katie, Marilyn, Doug, Javier

Too soon, it was time to check in at the ferry terminal—then sit and wait for a couple of hours in the sun and 85-degree temps, an unusually hot day for northwest Washington. When it was finally our turn, it was start your engines and board!

Boarding the MV Kennicott, our home for the next 5 days.

Loading vehicles on a ferry is a science. For our5-day, 1,400 nautical mile voyage to Whittier, the crew nudged the cars, vans, RVs, U-Haul trucks, and motorcycles as closely together as possible and strapped them down front and back.

The Traverse, tied down for the voyage

With the Traverse strapped in place, it was time to take our gear to our 5 x 7 roomette. This necessitated four trips up the elevator to the Sundeck, level 8, and left us with little room for ourselves. We'd be able to go to the car deck three times daily to retrieve and return items to the van. For many, going to the car deck meant walking their dogs, who unfortunately were restricted to the vehicles the rest of the time.

Doug got the top bunk and Marilyn the bottom.

The first thing I did the next morning was to cart things back to the van that we definitely could live without on the ferry!

Bunks converted to table & bench seats.

The table and bench seats converted to one bunk and the other folded down. If either of us sat up in bed, we would hit our head. For each bunk, there was a tiny shelf, a light with outlet, and hooks on each side. The bottom bunk had a porthole that provided light and a view of the legs of passersby on the deck. The bunks took up most of the roomette, and we didn't spend much time trying to keep it neat, a losing battle.

It was nearly impossible trying to keep the roomette neat, between hanging towels to dry and storing food and clothes.

Shortly before 6:00 PM we were on deck as the ferry pulled out. It was amazing watching one of the deck hands, a diminutive woman with spiked black hair and mirrored shades, haul in the 3-inch bow rope, and stow it. Then she took up the position on the bow of an extra set of eyes as the ferry began to navigate among the many small sail boats and kayaks in Bellingham Bay.

This tiny woman at the bow had just pulled up the 3" bow rope.

Navigating out of Bellingham Bay.

Doug finally fulfilling his dream of taking the ferry to Alaska.

We slid past Bellingham, watched snow-capped Mount Baker until it disappeared, and were soon moving up the coast of Washington toward Canada.

Mt Baker east of Bellingham.

Awhile later, passing between Vancouver and Vancouver Island, we recalled sitting in a hot tub a few years back at the bed and breakfast of my cousin's inlaws in Courtenay, Vancouver Island, watching cruise ships race up the Straits of Georgia.

Passing Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada

We both remarked how pleased we were that once again we were not on a gigantic cruise ship. Instead we were on a ferry with only 497 other passengers. In our midst were numerous young Coast Guard families who were traveling to new duty stations in Alaska for the next three to four years. Many had taken advantage of the move to drive across the country, visiting family, friends, and sights along the way. All were so positive and excited about moving to the small Alaskan ports.

We so enjoyed chatting with the parents and watching the kids play--the ferry was so accommodating to young families, with numerous play areas. Some babies were just learning to walk, and should be stars after mastering their first steps on a rolling ferry! Being around these folks made us proud again of our men and women in uniform, who go where they are called, even remote duty stations in Alaska, where in winter these young families will have to adapt to days with as little as three hours of daylight.

View from our porthole.

Sunset, 9:15 PM

Doug had always said that he would be happy sleeping on deck. The first night he grabbed his sleeping bag (a car camping bag, not a warm down one) and headed out to the deck right next to our room. There he found a plastic lounge chair near two other hearty souls and nestled in. With the ferry making 17 knots (think 20 mph) and a good head wind causing his sleeping bag to flutter vigorously, he drifted off to sleep—thinking that perhaps this was not the best scenario. Around 4:00 AM, he awoke to realize that he was the only one left, grabbed his bag, returned to the room, and climbed up to the warm top bunk.

Inside Passage

We continued all that night and all the next day, traveling into the Inside Passage, where land seemed so close at times that someone with a good arm could throw a ball to shore. We walked the multiple decks, sat and read in the various lounges, met fellow travelers, ate food we’d brought aboard and food from the cafeteria, and slept rather well in our bunks.

Inside Passage

We found our fellow passengers and the ship’s crew to be very open. We especially hit it off with Chuck and Diane, Kenai Peninsula residents. It didn’t hurt that Chuck and Doug are the same age (Chuck is actually eleven days older) and both Vietnam vets. They invited us to join them for breakfast when we docked in Ketchican the second morning. The four of us took a taxi to the Cape Fox Lodge on the hill at the top of town and watched float planes land in the bay. After breakfast, we walked back down the hill and wandered around until it was time to return to the ferry. We had dinner with them that night in the cafeteria, and they exacted promises to visit them in Ninilchik when we go to the Kenai later in our trip.

Ketchican

Totems at Cape Fox Lodge, Ketchican

Float plane landing in Ketchican Harbor

I wanted to stay up all night as we continued to cruise through the Inside Passage the third night, but despite the night sky that only darkens somewhat more than twilight from about 11:00 PM to 2:00 AM, we slept soundly and awoke to the ferry docking in Juneau the third morning. Doug debarked and walked a bit, but I stayed on board, counting on our planned visit to Juneau en route home.

Leaving Juneau

View from cafeteria.

We departed Juneau at noon and were soon out in the open water of the Gulf of Alaska. It was colder and rainy. Our numbers had decreased to only 126 passengers. People read, played cards and games, did jigsaw puzzles, visited. Then suddenly the ferry was in a tight channel and passengers were pouring out to the bow to marvel at the crew’s skill and enjoy the views of the multiple towering islands.

Lislanski Inlet near Cape Bingham, where the ferry hung out a bit then made a U-turn

We would later learn, as the ferry made an amazing U-turn in the narrow channel, that because we were ahead of schedule we either had to stop for an hour to cede the lane to other vessels or, as the captain elected to do, make a left turn into the channel and allow the crew to get some more practice time under their belts.

Back in open water, the gentle swaying and undulating we had so far experienced became more of a rock and roll. Doug retreated to his bunk, but I wandered the boat and read a few more hours before climbing into my own bunk.

Docked in Yakutat

We hit calmer waters in the morning as we docked in Yakutat at 6:00 AM. Doug walked and ate a little before taking more Bonine and sleeping. He will quickly tell you that motion sickness is no stranger to him, even if he was in the Navy. I walked to the roadside information booth, which was run by a cheerful young woman who had moved to Yakutat as an Americorps volunteer and stayed when she met and married her husband, a fisherman. The general store up the road across from the courthouse was impressively stocked with everything: fresh (expensive) produce, canned and dry goods, hardware, t-shirts and sweatshirts, and the DMV was in a room next door. I bought a few plums and donated to the local school fund.

Yakutat General Store

Soon after leaving port, we were rockin’ and rollin’ again. Walking the decks proved too difficult, but I did venture out once or twice and met Cary from Brisbane, Australia, a grandparent like us, who had begun his first bike trip ever in Vancouver and was rendezvousing with friends from home in Whitehorse, Canada. He was taking the train in addition to riding his “push bike,” as they call it Down Under, but he’d put in some long cycling days on Vancouver Island, including cresting a hill to see a bear cross in front of him.

11:15 PM our last night on the ferry

The fifth morning, the ride again smoothed as we entered Whittier Passage. Breakfast was served early, at 5:00 AM, prior to our 6:00 AM arrival.

Passage Canal, Whittier

By 6:20, the van was skillfully maneuvered off the ferry and we were driving around the tiny town of Whittier.

Exiting the ferry in Whittier

Now-abandoned Buckner Building, built during the Cold War to house military personnel in a "city under a roof": housing, stores, theater, rifle range, jail, library, church, etc. It is said to be haunted.

Begich Towers, where most of Whittier's 160 residents now live.

Leaving Whittier, we offered a ride to Tag, a fellow ferry passenger, and wished we could give Cary a ride, too, but we didn’t have room for his bike.

Whittier Tunnel entrance

We were in luck, as the one-way Whittier tunnel was open our direction. This unique 2.5-mile-long tunnel serves both trains and vehicles, one mode, one direction at a time, and is definitely a tight squeeze.

Inside the 2.5-mile-long Whittier Tunnel. Train tracks run down the middle. There's a big rig in front of us

Exiting Whitter Tunnel

We dropped Tag at Girdwood, then continued north along the Turnagain Arm, famous for its bore tide that surfers ride. We hope to see it when we go south again to the Kenai Peninsula later in our trip.

Turnagain Arm, where surfers ride the 10-foot-high bore tide

We saw our first wildlife of the trip, dall sheep on the hillside along Seward Highway.

Dall Sheep along the Seward Highway

Arrived in Anchorage, we did laundry, bought groceries, and had lunch with friends from home who were visiting their grandson.
We’d thought to overnight at Cabela’s in Anchorage, which is one of several businesses in the country that often offer free overnight parking. However, we found their parking lot overrun with 50 or so RVs, meaning lots of generator noise, as there are no quiet hours imposed in such facilities.

So we headed back south, found a spot at Bird Creek Campground in Chugach State Park along Turnagain Arm, and settled in for our first night on land in Alaska.

1st night in Alaska: Bird Creek Campground, Chugach State Park, south of Anchorage

The Long and Winding Road from California to Washington, Part 5: Granite Mountain Hot Shots, Quartzsite, London Bridge, Goodbye Arizona

Sat, 04 Dec 2021 20:53:00 +0200

October 14, 2021

Statue at Granite Mountain Hotshots Memorial State Park.

We worked with the realization that we needed to begin the northern part of our trek and head for Washington and Doug's kids. So our last morning in Arizona found us up early and ready to drive. First coffee, so back to Prescott and a nice coffee shop where we warmed with coffee and the sun on their patio. Then off we went, heading southwest.
Wait, didn't we say we needed to go north? One of those "you gotta go southwest to go north things," but then, what else is new with us?

The Long and Winding Road from Californina to Washington, Part 4: Tepees, Canyons, and Cliff Dwellings

Fri, 03 Dec 2021 16:44:00 +0200

October 12-13, 2021

After leaving Meteor Crater Natural Landmark, we had a 170-mile day. Our rule of thumb is to stop at 300 miles or 3:00 PM, whichever comes first, but less is always good.

Arizona Day 5: Meteor Crater; Holbrook; Mogollon Rim; Salt River Canyon. Day 6: Salada Cliff Dwellings.

We continued east on I-40 to Holbrook, where we stumbled upon the Wigwam Hotel on the old Route 66—yes, we traveled on Route 66 whenever possible. Not only were the rooms designed to resemble tepees, but each featured a classic car in front. Though all was in need of some TLC, it did present a window into the post-WWII era.

Wigwam Village was listed on the National Register of Historic Places in 2002.

The Long and Winding Road from Californina to Washington, Part 3: Winslow and Meteor Crater

Wed, 24 Nov 2021 00:18:00 +0200

October 11-12, 2021

Having decided the cold, snowy weather that was projected to the north was not our cup of tea, we headed south from the Grand Canyon. Over the next 6 days, we did our blog proud by meandering 1,100 miles around central Arizona.

Arizona Meander: Day 1: Hoover Dam; Williams. Days 2-3: Grand Canyon. Day 4: Meteor Crater; Winslow.

Wupatki and Sunset Crater Volcano National Monuments southeast of the Grand Canyon looked interesting on paper but they turned out to be along a 35-mile loop road. The road is reportedly paved, yet signs stated it required high clearance and possible 4WD, so we passed.
Then Doug said he'd always wanted to see Meteor Crater, so we headed toward Winslow AZ on Route 66.

The Long and Winding Road from California to Washington, Part 2: The Grand Canyon

Mon, 22 Nov 2021 22:00:00 +0200

October 8-10, 2021

Leaving Hoover Dam on the 4th day of what would turn out to be a 39-day trip, we encountered rain, a great way to wash off the dust from the Valley of Fire. Our destination was the Williams KOA, just south of the Grand Canyon, for showers and laundry.

We were glad not to be walking through the previous day's slot canyon when it poured rain for much of the day.

We arrived at Mather Campground in Grand Canyon National Park about 8:30 the next morning, hoping for a first-come-first-serve site. Folks were already in line—bundled up in camp chairs and chatting over hot mugs of coffee. Registration opens at 9:00, and, we learned, one must return each day for the first-come-first-serve sites. However, we were lucky: we not only got a site, but the ranger allowed us to reserve it for two nights.

A large, sunny campsite was welcome after the pouring rain on the drive from Hoover Dam.

It turned out to be an amazing site with a semicircle drive and lots of sun. As deer sauntered past, we put out our rug and tied our chairs to the table, to show the site clearly occupied.

Deer were unfazed by humans in the campground.

Most people congregate in Grand Canyon Village around the hotels, stores, and food vendors.

Driving to Grand Canyon Village, the roads were as confusing as we remembered, but we eventually found easy parking near the Mule Barn. (Neither the parking nor the roads show on the park map.) After all the miles of driving, the 1/4-mile walk across the train tracks and up the stairs to the village felt good.

Every time we see the Grand Canyon it is like the first time—it is just so special.

Near Kolb Studio, we watched a mule train with passengers on board finishing the 8-mile ascent up Bright Angel Trail from Phantom Ranch on the canyon floor. Backpackers stay at Bright Angel Campground. Lots of people were walking the trail, but just to the first tunnel, less than 1/4 mile from the South Rim, for a photo.

Mule Train ascending Bright Angel Trail from the canyon floor.

Looking down at Bright Angel Trail, which does not actually drop off at the end of the plateau.

Although the first steam-powered passenger train arrived at the South Rim in 1901, Grand Canyon National Park was not created until 1919. In 1903, the Kolb brothers built their photography studio near Bright Angel Trailhead, with the permission of the trail's then owner.

Kolb Studio

Fred Harvey, who'd been building hotels and restaurants along trainlines to capitalize on increased passenger travel, built El Tovar Hotel in 1905.

El Tovar Hotel

In 1914, Harvey built Lookout Studio to compete with Kolb Studio. Mary Colter designed the multi-level structure, which was built into the canyon's rim to allow visitors to photograph it from the edge and look at it through telescopes. Colter was the main architect and designer for the Fred Harvey Company from 1902 to 1948. Like many of her buildings and structures, Lookout Studio appears to grow from its surroundings, uses native materials, and reflects Native American culture.

Lookout Studio.

Colter also designed the 1905 Hopi House opposite El Tovar, modeling it on a 1,000-year-old Hopi pueblo dwelling.

Hopi House

An aside: the Fred Harvey Company was sold by his heirs to the company that eventually became Xanterra, now a familiar name at national park tourist operations.

Day two Doug dropped Marilyn off at what she thought was Bright Angel Lodge to see the Mary Colter fireplace a friend had urged us to see. By the time he'd parked again near the Mule Barn and walked back to the lodge, she'd figured out she was at the wrong hotel.

Grand Canyon Trails
Rim Trail: Hermit's Rest (west end) to South Kaibab Trailhead (east end): 13 miles.
Bright Angel Trail:15 mi RT; 4,380' elevation change.
South Kaibab Trail: 14 mi RT; 4,780' elevation change.
South Rim-to-Rim Trail (South Kaibab Trailhead to Bright Angel Trailhead): 16.5 mi; 4,780' elevation loss; 4,380’ elevation gain

We decided to avoid the crowds and walk east on the Rim Trail. It includes the Trail of Time, on which each meter represents 1 million years in the Grand Canyon's geologic history. The exact age of the canyon is not known. It was long thought that the Colorado River began to carve it around 6 million years ago, but a 2012-study indicated the process may have begun 70 million years ago!

How old is the Grand Canyon?

The Grand Canyon is also missing some rocks. It "offers one of the most visible examples of a worldwide geological phenomenon known as the Great Unconformity, in which 250 million-year-old rock strata lie back-to-back with 1.2 billion-year-old rocks. What happened during the hundreds of millions of years between remains largely a mystery" ("Facts About the Grand Canyon You Never Knew," https://www.nationalparks.org/connect/blog/8-facts-about-grand-canyon-you-never-knew).

West end of Trail of Time.

Elves Chasm gneiss, 1.84 billion years old

Quartermaster granite, 1.375 billion years old

Not quite 1 million years old.

We followed the Rim Trail to Yavapai Point, where one can return to the village by shuttle, but we opted to walk, a 3-plus-mile roundtrip. A young man we'd chatted with in the registration line the previous day was going to do the South Rim-to-Rim Trail that day, 16.5 miles with equal elevation gain and loss of 4,000-plus feet, and he didn't start until after 10:00!

How does that round rock near the upper right corner stay there?!?

We got back to Bright Angel Lodge minutes before the history room with the Mary Colter fireplace was closing. It's called the Geologic Fireplace because the stones layered from bottom to top represent the same layering of rock along Bright Angel Trail from the Colorado River to the rim of the Grand Canyon. All of the rock was gathered or cut from the canyon walls.

Geologic Fireplace at Bright Angel Lodge

From Bright Angel, we walked back to El Tovar and through the bar to the deck facing the canyon.

Grand Canyon is visible above and below the top rail.

There Doug had his traditional Bloody Mary (Marilyn had an IPA). He's not sure how many decades ago it started (maybe 4?) or why, but every time Doug goes to the Grand Canyon, he has a Bloody Mary on the El Tovar's wood deck.

Doug with his traditional El Tovar deck Bloody Mary.

Our final morning, we took the road east out of the Grand Canyon, stopping at Desert View Watchtower, another Mary Colter-designed structure, built in 1932.

Desert View Watchtower with kiva-like room in front.

The Watchtower is an interpretation of buildings of ancestral Puebloans of the Four Corners area. The round room resembles a kiva, a ceremonial and community structure, often built underground and entered through the top by a ladder.

Inside the Watchtower kiva-like room.

Carefully selected stones and design elements are all part of Colter's intentional reflection.

The plaque about Colter's design says these are actual petroglyphs with pecked designs.

Ornamental detail.

Trapezoidal window openings typical of ancient Native American buildings.

Support beams.

From the deck overhanging the canyon outside the Watchtower, we could see the muddy Colorado River far below and Kaibab Suspension Bridge crossing the river near Phantom Ranch.

Colorado River at bottom of Grand Canyon.

A footnote: In 1956, two planes, United and TWA, showing their passengers the Grand Canyon, collided over the canyon near the Watchtower, killing all 128 passengers and crew. The tragedy led to the creation of the FAA, and the site is a National Historic Landmark.

Heading east, we entered the Navajo Nation. Few of the roadside Native American art stands, typical of the Southwest, are open due to the pandemic, and most have few stalls open.

Native American Art Stand in the Navajo Nation.

We'd considered heading northeast through Arizona, Utah, and Colorado, but the weather was forecast to become colder, with possible snow. Though we've equipped the van for snow, we decided we wanted to stay warm. We then did our blog proud by meandering around central Arizona for a 7-day, 1,100-mile total.

Our 7-day, 1,100-mile meander around Arizona.

The Long and Winding Road from California to Washington, Part 1

Mon, 08 Nov 2021 02:12:00 +0200

It was summer and we were supposed to be gone, but we were home. Every day it was 100+ degrees and often smoky due to wildfires in the Sierras that were putting our beloved Sequoias in peril. It was time to plan a trip for fall. Out came the drywall board with maps. It was soon filled with pins of places we wished to visit, with our ultimate destinations Seattle and Bellingham, WA to see the kids. But where to first?

Our dining room table is frequently covered with maps.

Discussions ensued: should we go up the Pacific Coast? east to the Southwest then north? inland through California, Oregon, and Washington?

No matter the route, we planned to spend the first night in the Alabama Hills on the east side of the Sierras (we live on the west side).

As the map shows, we soon realized that visiting the Alabama Hills was a bit of a detour. Despite our meandering tendencies, it just didn't make sense to go there for the third time this year and then have to drive all the next day to get to Valley of Fire. So the night before departure, we crossed Alabama Hills off the route.

We were ready to go. All that was left was one last check of the house, until the door knob came off in Marilyn's hand when she opened the front door. This was not a duct tape job. But an hour later, we'd fixed the door knob and finally pulled out of the driveway.

Valley of Fire West Dispersed Camping, 55 miles northeast of Las Vegas.

Several hours later, driving past Las Vegas on the interstate, we commented again that we should spend a couple days there just being tourists, but not this time. We headed north on I-15 to Valley of Fire West Dispersed Camping, arriving in time for the first of many gorgeous sunsets during our trip.

Our 1st Valley of Fire campsite, behind the outhouse.

We Received Kudos!

Thu, 28 Oct 2021 01:00:00 +0200

Well, this is a first for us! We use the Campendium app to find campgrounds—parks, BLM, national forest land, private, boondocking—and decided since we really appreciate having the reviews to help us find a site, we should contribute our own reviews. So we've now written several reviews from our current trip to the Southwest and Pacific Northwest, and today we received this email!:

Liz (Campendium)

Oct 27, 2021, 12:53 PDT

Hi Marilyn & Doug,

Your recent review of Indian Well Campground on Campendium is featured in this week’s Top Five Campsites email!

Thank you for being an active part of the Campendium community. We appreciate your well-written reviews and awesome photos! Your contributions help other Campendium users find great spots to camp.

In addition to being featured in the weekly Top Five email, your review will also be featured on Campendium’s Facebook and Instagram accounts this week. Be sure to follow both, and feel free to share your feature with your friends and followers.

Thanks again - and happy travels!

Liz

Yay for us! Seriously, we were quite excited to be recognized.

Thanks as always for reading! We love to share our travels—it also reminds us where we've been—and are so appreciative that you take the time to read our blog.

Our Vans: A Brief History

Sat, 25 Sep 2021 15:34:00 +0200

I have enjoyed driving and camping in VW buses since my San Diego days in the '70s. I do think during my flying days I was the only Navy Pilot who drove onto a Naval Air Station in a VW bus, which always drew a second look from those at the gate. I now drive my 4th bus, a 1986 Westy Vanagon Weekender purchased in 2001.

Adjusting the valves in my 2nd bus, a '69 Westy, with my competent helper, Katie. Note the VW Idiot Book was open and probably saved me once again.

Wild Rose Campground, Death Valley

Sequoia National Park with my kids

Southwest 2021-18: Rhylote NV to Alabama Hills CA to Home

Mon, 14 Jun 2021 02:51:00 +0200

March 24-25, 2021

The next-to-last day of our trip, we left Red Rock Canyon near Las Vegas and meandered to Pahrump, Beatty, and Ryholite NV (see our Southwest 2021-17 post for more on those stops).

Rhylotite NV to home, Visalia CA.

We continued on CA 190 through Death Valley, making numerous several-thousand-foot descents and ascents en route to the Alabama Hills, where we'd camped the first night of our trip, five weeks earlier.