Meandering the Blue Highways

Canada-Alaska 2022: Boondocking on the Top of the World Highway

Sun, 04 Sep 2022 02:30:00 +0200

July 2, 2022

We left Tombstone Mountain Campground after three days, showered in Dawson City, took the free ferry across the Yukon River, and were headed up the Top of the World Highway. We'd driven it the opposite direction in 2017.
The views are breathtaking. It truly feels like being on top of the world. Hopefully the pictures will convey a sense of that feeling.

The road is well groomed dirt.

A bit dusty but we kept away unless they were going slow.

Like the Dempster Highway, we could see the road far into the distance.

Cloud formations & the shadows they cast made for ever-changing sky and scenery.

Depending on the weather, the Top of the World Hwy is open from mid-May to mid-October.

Top of the World Hwy rises to 4,515 feet.

90 minutes after disembarking the ferry, we were at the Yukon-Alaska border.

You have to time your arrival at the border, as it is open 9 to 9 Yukon time, which is 8 to 8 Alaska time.

Doug had heard of a great boondocking spot in Alaska shortly after the border crossing. We rejected a couple of pull-outs, then came to a large gravel pit hidden from the road.

The surroundings were awing, silent, expansive.

Looking out from our boondocking spot in a gravel pit along the Top of the World Highway.

At the other end of the gravel pit a group with ATVs was already camped. So many activities are possible at all hours when daylight is nearly 24 hours!

10:45 PM

11:40 PM

11:55 PM

3:00 AM

The next morning we'd continue on Alaska's Taylor Hwy to Eagle then Chicken.

Canada 2022: Klondike Loop 6 - Tombstone Mountain Territorial Park

Wed, 24 Aug 2022 19:20:00 +0200

June 30-July 2, 2022

As we drove through Tombstone Territorial Park four hours after leaving the Arctic Circle, we realized this was the most spectacular scenery we'd seen on the Dempster Highway.

The Dempster Highway runs through Tombstone Territorial Park beginning 153 miles south of the Arctic Circle.

We'd opted not to drive the 300 miles from the Arctic Circle to the Arctic Ocean. It'd be at least 7 hours of additional driving, and the threat of a tire problem was ever present. Dancing with mosquitoes while changing a flat? No, thank you.

We drove to the Arctic Circle on the Dempster Hwy. Returning south, we stopped at Tombstone Campground.

How many times would I say breathtaking on this trip? I now have a complete understanding of the word, the feeling of having my breath literally pulled from my lungs as I gaze in awe.

Despite the haze from wildfires to the west, Tombstone was breathtaking.

Tombtone Mountains

It was a no brainer to check out Tombstone Campground, set on the North Klondike River, at 3,400 feet. Our site was right on the banks of the river.

Is there anything like the sound of rushing water?

You might say we were relaxed.

As Doug says, on our first trip to Alaska, in 2017, we felt the need to get from place to place, because we had no idea what we'd encounter or how long it would take. This time, if we liked a place, we stayed longer.

Tombstone Mountains

Tombstone one such place. We'd wake up, look outside, look at each other, and say, "Let's stay another day."

Backdrop to campground.

Since the river was too fast-moving to go into, several times a day I dipped a bucket into it and poured the water over my head. So invigorating!

Doug applying Deet lotion. An intermittent breeze swept mosquitoes away, but when it died down, they'd return to feast on us.

Coming down the Dempster, Doug stopped multiple times for me to take wildflower pictures. How was I to know we'd find them growing all over the campground?

Prickly Rose.

Dwarf Raspberry. Northern Goldenrod.

Northern Monkshood. Shrubby Cinquefoil.

Fireweed. Labrador Tea.

Tall Lungwort/Bluebells. Mountain Avens.

While I happily traipsed about taking pictures, Doug was hard at work attempting to cut the layers of dirt the Dempster had thrown at the van.

At least we hoped less dirt would end up inside the van.

The rangers at Tombstone Interpretive Center confirmed from our pictures that it was in fact musk ox we'd seen crossing the Dempster south of the Arctic Circle.

Tombstone Interpretive Center

The musk ox skull made us glad we hadn't had an in-person encounter.

The ptarmigan was interesting, in part because we'd be going to Chicken, Alaska, so named because no one could spell the intended name of ptarmigan.

Does a ptarmigan look like a chicken?

We picked up free activity books at the interpretive center for our grandchildren and gave some to two young girls we'd met in the campground along with their mom. They were driving to the Arctic Ocean in a rental camper.

Mom and daughters were just delightful. They were headed to the Arctic Ocean in a rental RV. The people we meet so enhance our travels!

With the wildfire smoke somewhat dissipated on the second day, we drove back to the Tombstone Range Viewpoint.

With less smoke, we could see much further into the distance of the Tombstone Range.

The Tombstone Range rises to 7,200 feet, with sharp peaks, glaciers, mountain meadows, icy lakes. It's easy to see why the Hän and Gwich'in call the area Among Ragged-Peaked Mountains.
We finally decided we should head back to Dawson City. Remember we decided not to go to the Arctic Ocean partly due to the ongoing possibility of a tire problem? Well, there's also always the potential for a damaged windshield, and sure enough, in the last 44-mile stretch of our 554-mile round trip on the dirt Dempster Highway, a big rig barreling toward us going north threw up a rock that hit the windshield.

It's a nice spider, don't you think?

As Doug said, now we had a real Yukon-Alaska vehicle!
Back in Dawson, we'd shower, then take the free ferry across the Yukon to the Top of the World Highway.

Canada-Alaska 2022: Oh, the Places We've Been!

Sat, 20 Aug 2022 18:14:00 +0200

By the end of July, we'd been on the road six weeks in the Yukon Territory and Alaska. Doug had driven 6,200 miles, and we'd driven 3,100 miles together. It seemed it'd be good to post a map of our route.

But our posts always lag behind our travels, and though we started to create the maps, relaxing and exploring always take precedence.

Finally, here are the maps and related posts. As we add posts, we'll link them to this maps in this post.

2022 Trip through Canada & Alaska

Part 1: Visalia, CA. Seattle & Bellingham, WA.

Whistler & Dawson Creek, British Columbia.

Whitehorse, Yukon Teritory.

Posts:

• California-Whitehorse via Washington & British Columbia

• Millions of Critters

Part 2: Whitehorse, Dawson City, & Dempster Highway, YT.

Top of the World Highway. Eagle & Chicken, AK

Posts:

• Klondike Loop 1: Whitehorse to Dawson City

• Klondike Loop 2: Dawson City

• Klondike Loop 3: Dawson City Museum

• Klondike Loop 4: The Bard of the North

• Klondike Loop 5: Dempster Hwy to the Arctic Circle

• Dirt, Mosquitoes, Spiders, & the Arctic Circle

Part 3: Alaska: North Pole, Fairbanks, Nenana, Talkeetna, Anchorage, Seward, Palmer, Matanuska Glacier.

Part 4: Valdez & McCarthy-Kennicott, AK.

Whitehorse, YT. Skagway, AK.

Posts:

• More Spectacular Boondocking

Check back here for more posts linked to the maps. Thanks, as always, for following us!

Canada 2022: What's In A Name?

Wed, 17 Aug 2022 02:09:00 +0200

A few thoughts from Doug, on the road in Canada's Saskatchewan Province.

Suppose Maverick is a maverick? Wonder what party s/he represents and what the election is.

Wild Lily, a dirt road about 80 miles south of Saskatoon. Wish I had met her and heard her story.

We have Buena Vista, so guess Bonnie View is not too much of a stretch.

Elbow...perhaps because the river makes a bend?

But Eyebrow--another thought provoking name.

And just one of so many: A house with the roof falling in. What a story it could tell....

More thoughts as I drive....

Canada 2022: Klondike Loop 5 - Dempster Highway to the Arctic Circle

Sun, 31 Jul 2022 18:27:00 +0200

June 29-July 2, 2022

Dilemma #1: The Dempster Highway.

When we visited Dawson City in 2017, we read of a dirt road called the Dempster Highway that ran from near Dawson City, Yukon Territory, to Inuvik, Northwest Territories, but we did not have enough time to consider whether to do it.

In 2019, the road was extended 94 miles from Inuvik to Tuktoyaktuk (Tuk) on the Beaufort Sea, part of the Arctic Ocean.

The Dempster Highway.

Imagine driving to the Arctic Ocean, a 1,151-mile round trip, on an all-dirt road, including small ferries across two rivers. It sounds enticing, yet did we really wish to bounce our van that far? Add, the last half after the Arctic Circle has the tendency to puncture tires, due to the jagged rock, often called shrapnel, that was used as a road bed.

We went back and forth. Did we want the experience or the checkmark? Maybe we'd just go to Tombstone Mountain Territorial Park, only 44 miles of dirt road, to at least experience the Dempster. Did we need a second spare tire? We attempted to get a spare tire carrier before we left so we'd have two spares, but they were all on back order. Yes, we were in a dilemma.

Northwest Territories Visitor Center, Dawson City

Once in Dawson city we each spoke with the ranger, a First Nations native of Inuvik, at the Northwest Territories Visitor Center. She counseled checking the weather/road condition report posted outside daily and said the road had been good.

Weather/Road Conditions, Dempster Highway

Doug bought Wild Peak tires in 2021, and added a matching spare before the trip. In Whitehorse and Dawson City, we talked to folks who had made the trek to the Arctic Circle, or Inuvik, or Tuktoyaktuk. Travelers ranged from the truly awesome bicyclists to the wannabe explorers in giant box vehicles originally designed as support vehicles for desert driving in the Paris-Dakar road race.

Expedition RV that had completed the Dempster Hwy. Note we are to the right. Can't fathom needing anything so huge.

A bicyclist on the Dempster. In 2017, Doug met a young couple in BC who had bicycled the Dempster to Inuvik, then scored a trip back in a pickup.

Lastly we spoke with a couple of drivers who had just returned. One in a RV experienced one flat on the road and awoke the morning after his return to two flats. Another gent, who was driving a van like ours, had done the roundtrip up the Dempster—after having a tire shredded just past the Arctic Circle, returning 560 miles to Whitehorse for a complete set of new tires, then starting over. Other than the tires and extra time, he'd had no problems—and no dust inside the van.

This Promaster in our Dawson campground gave us pause as it had dust inside and out from the Dempster. We concluded something had been left ajar or was not well-sealed.

We decided we were in...whatever "in" was.

By the time we crossed the Klondike River to begin the Dempster, it was already 11:30 AM.

Passing the sign at the start of the Dempster we still weren't certain what we'd do.

Dempster Hwy: 252 miles to the Arctic Circle, 456 miles to Inuvik, 547 miles to Tuktoyaktuk on the Arctic Ocean.

When we reached Tombstone Mountain Campground at 44 miles up the Dempster, we didn't turn in...

...so we were off to the Arctic Circle, 274 miles from Dawson City, 249 of it dirt. As the sun did not set until after midnight, we were in no hurry.

The road looked endless.

Sadly, it was smoky from fires near Fairbanks, AK, but the scenery was still awesome.

We would realize on our return trip that the views around Tombstone Mountain Territorial Park were the most beautiful of the entire run.

Tombstone Mountain Territorial Park

It was clear enough to see the dirt highway far in the distance.

As the trees grew sparser, Marilyn thought we were getting close! Not quite...we'd only been on the Dempster 35 minutes of about 5 hours.

So green!

Ice on the banks of the Blackstone River.

The colors of the hillsides change with the light.

With distances between outposts of "civilization" so vast in Canada and Alaska, mileposts and kilometer posts are very helpful.

106 km down. 399 to go.

Blackstone River again.

Losing the road in the distance.

Alert to any unusual sounds, about two hours into the trip we stopped to check out a rear end noise.

The side trim and running boards were black when we started.

Unlike the totally brown sides, the front and rear still had some black.

No problem uncovered, we continued on.

Green meadows & wildflowers.

On the way back, Doug would patiently stop so Marilyn could take pictures of wildflowers—only to find they were everywhere in Tombstone Campground.

It's so exciting to see the road disappear around the turn and over the edge.

Mineral deposits make Engineer Creek red and yellow.

Crossing the Olgivie River where Engineer Creek flows into it.

Road maintenance is constant due to permafrost and wear and tear.

The scraper's first pass created windrows...

...which Doug had to maneuver...

...but at least they were gravel, not snow.

Sections of the Dempster were built 8 to 12 feet above the surrounding tundra, which helps prevent the cracks, dips, and bumps permafrost can cause.

Roadbed 8-12' above tundra to help counteract the effects of permafrost.

The highway is at times comfortable to drive at about 40 mph.

Dirt roads in the far north are often better than paved roads, which acquire cracks, bumps, dips, and potholes due to permafrost.

Other times a combination of washboard and potholes found Doug going much slower and seeking a route around the obstacles.

Doug is expert at maneuvering on rough roads, but sometimes, the road wins.

There wasn't a lot of traffic, but encountering oncoming vehicles, especially semi-trucks and the dust they kicked up, could be interesting.

Basically whiteout in wake of passing semi.

Fortunately we did not have to follow a vehicle but can say our cabin air filter was rather black when we changed it.

We left our own long plume of dust behind.

The Tr'ondëk Hwëch'in were the original inhabitants of the region. They regained ownership of their land from Canada in 1988.

Permission to hunt must be granted by the First Nation.

Caribou have since ancient times been integral to the Tr'ondëk Hwëch'in way of life and culture.

"Please hunt only the caribou that you need."

Like the Western US, forest fires have devastated millions of acres in Canada. Weakened surviving trees have been prey in the US to the bark beetle and in Canada the spruce beetle.

Devastation from wildfire...

...and the spruce beetle.

Despite the smoky haze, we could see the faint line of the highway far in the distance.

Fiber optic cable was being laid along the Dempster to the towns that until the 20th century were isolated, reachable only on foot or by dog sled.

Machines simultaneously cut and mulched grass, brush, and small trees along the roadside...

...clearing a path for the cable...

...which was undergrounded by a machine.

More devastated forest.

Eagle Plains is the first town on the Dempster Highway, about midway between the beginning of the highway and Inuvik.

Nearly to the night's camp at Eagle Plains.

Arriving at Eagle Plains about 5:00 PM.

Like everywhere in the Yukon and Alaska, whenever gas and water are available, you get them, irrespective of the cost. And if your larders aren't full, you get food, too.

Eagle Plains: 229 miles from beginning of Dempster Highway. 22 miles south of Arctic Circle.

Many motorcyclists travel the Dempster. At Eagle Plains, we met Henry on his return from the Arctic Ocean. Unfortunately, his bike later broke down and was being shipped to Vancouver for repairs.

We hope someday to take Henry up on his offer that we will "always have a friend in Spain."

Three motorcyclists arrived at the campground around 11:00 PM. Night is not much more than dusk this far north.

We left early the next morning to drive the last 22 miles to the Arctic Circle.

6:30 AM, the sun all but concealed by smoke.

22 miles to the Arctic Circle.

Driving on the long, dirt Dempster takes concentration.

Crossing the Eagle River.

Would we ever get there?

Or would we drop off the edge of the world?

When construction of the Dempster Highway reached the Arctic Circle in 1977, a sign was erected.

Workers added this marker.

For a few summers, Henry Waldron greeted travelers who ventured to the Arctic Circle on the Dempster. A former highway worker, he wore a tuxedo and recited Robert Service poetry.

We arrived at the Arctic Circle 6/30/22, 8:56 AM! It was both exciting and a bit sad, as smoke concealed the grand vistas. We were greeted by swarms of mosquitoes.

TaDa! The Arctic Circle, 6/30/22, 8:56 AM.

Marilyn got out to take pictures but quickly returned to the van, along with a myriad of her new BFFs. Doug swatted while Marilyn donned a long sleeve shirt and mosquito net headgear, ventured out again, got a few pictures, and escaped back to the van.

Marilyn's shadow at the Arctic Circle.

Doug at the Arctic Circle.

Doug realized his mistake and offered to take her picture by the sign, but somehow she rejected going outside a third time. So there's no WE ARE HERE pic of us at the Arctic Circle, but Doug did present us with a certificate!

Our official Arctic Circle certificate.

And now dilemma #2: did we wish to drive an additional 300 miles to Tuktoyaktuk to say we had dipped our toe in the Arctic Ocean? Besides the time, miles, and further rattling of the van, there was the potential for a flat, and changing a tire while dancing with mosquitoes did not sound particularly charming. That sealed the deal, so we did a 180 and headed back to Eagle Plains. We topped off with gas and smiled. Now Doug only had to drive 230 miles back down the Dempster.

Heading back down the Dempster

Not far south of the Arctic Circle, a long straightaway section of the Dempster serves as an emergency airstrip. It's a bit wider and has landing markers and a wind sock.

It's mildly disconcerting when you see this sign along a road.

Now we were looking for bumps, dips, oncoming vehicles, animals, and airplanes!

A windsock and cones mark the emergency airstrip on the Dempster.

No kidding!

Unfortunately for Doug, not one landed during our trek.

We were rewarded for not going on to the Arctic Ocean when just before Eagle Plains, we saw what we thought were two musk oxen crossing the road from Marilyn's side. Upon seeing us, they did an abrupt 180 and headed back into the bush. To my amazement Marilyn was able to snap two blurry pictures of them.

1st musk ox was down in the bush when Marilyn's camera found it.

2nd musk ox was hurrying off the road. Considering their size, it was amazing how fast they moved, with quite a swish of the hips, made more pronounced by their long hair.

At the Tombstone Nature Center we shared our sighting with the rangers. Guess we were blessed, for none of the rangers had seen a musk ox in the wild. They promptly recorded the sighting and copied the pictures. Likewise, when we told the ranger at the NW Territories Visitor Center in Dawson, she called the Inuvik ranger to report it.

215 more miles back to Dawson.

The road...

...the landscape...

...the sky.

Nearing Tombstone Mountain Territorial Park Campground.

When we got to the turnoff for Tombstone Mountain Territorial Park Campground, we decided why not stay the night. It was so gorgeous, we stayed two. More on that in our next post.

Our site on the North Klondike River at Tombstone Mountain Territorial Park Campground.

The Yukon.ca Dempster Highway Travelogue is a great mile-by-mile description, with many maps and lots of additional information on the geography, flora, fauna, and the like.

Canada 2022: Klondike Loop 4 - The Bard of the North

Wed, 27 Jul 2022 22:57:00 +0200

A major attraction for Doug in Dawson City is a visit to the two-room cabin of the "Bard of the North," Robert Service.

Robert Service Cabin, 8th Ave, Dawson City, Yukon Territory

On our 2017 visit to the cabin, the docent recited "Goodbye, Little Cabin." On this trip, as we waited for the docent's arrival,
Doug recited it to me. The first verse:

O dear little cabin, I've loved you so long,
And now I must bid you good-bye!
I've filled you with laughter, I've thrilled you with song,
And sometimes I've wished I could cry.
Your walls they have witnessed a weariful fight,
And rung to a won Waterloo:
But oh, in my triumph I'm dreary to-night --
Good-bye, little cabin, to you!

Robert Service on the steps of his Dawson City cabin.

Born in England in 1874 of Scottish heritage, Service lived in Glasgow from childhood. As a young man, he became a banking apprentice. He loved to read, and was influenced by Stevenson, Kipling, Thoreau, and other wanderers.

Another wanderer enjoying the Robert Service cabin.

In his early twenties, Service traveled to Canada, San Francisco, the Southwest. In 1903, he became a bank clerk in Victoria, Vancouver Island, British Columbia. In 1904, he was transferred to Whitehorse, Yukon Territory.

Front room, Robert Service cabin.

Soon after arriving in Whitehorse, Service traveled to the two entry points to the Yukon for the Klondike Gold Rush, Skagway and Dyea, Alaska. Once bustling towns of thousands, by the time Service arrived, the gold rush had waned, and the two towns were dying.

"Rebuffs are only rungs in the ladder of success."

Service's first book of poems, Songs of a Sourdough, was published in 1906, before he had ever set foot in Dawson City. In 1908 he was finally transferred there.

Front room opposite end.

Service met veterans of the 1898 Klondike Gold Rush who had stayed on in Dawson City, and was enthralled by their stories of the Chilkoot Trail, of traveling the Yukon in homemade boats, of the perils of Five Finger Rapids. He listened to their tales of mining camps, gold strikes, tragedy, and financial losses.
When the bank wanted Service to return to Whitehorse in 1909, he resigned. Then he rented a two-room log cabin in Dawson Cit. For the next two years, he wrote full time.

33-mile long Chilkoot Trail from Dyea, AK to Lake Bennett, YT. There, Klondikers built boats from any available materials and atempted to travel the 500 miles up the Yukon River to Dawson City.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chilkoot_Trail

In 1911, with the income from his first novel, The Trail of '98, Service left Dawson City and began to travel widely. But as recounted in Alaska History Magazine, something gnawed at him: he felt like a fraud. His livelihood came from writing about the Klondike Gold Rush, but he had not experienced any of the hardships of the Klondikers. He had not climbed the Chilkoot Trail. He had not built a makeshift boat to brave the mighty Yukon River. He had not suffered cold, hunger, fatigue, and illness in the hopes of striking gold.

Robert Service in his birch bark canoe, Coquette.

That same year, Service determined to take the 2,000-mile Edmonton Trail to Dawson City. He bought a birch bark canoe, which he named Coquette (Flirtatious), and set out.

Robert Service's 2000-mile trip from Manville, Alberta, to Dawson City YT on the Edmonton Trail.

http://robertwservice.blogspot.com/2013/07/robert-w-service-journey-through.html

In On the Trail of Robert Service, G. W. Lockhart recounts Service's journey. He canoed the Mackenzie, Rat, Porcupine, and Yukon Rivers; hitched a ride on a scow; portaged his canoe; and finally loaded his canoe onto a sternwheeler he encountered on the Yukon River for the final leg back to Dawson City. Now he felt he had earned his sourdough stripes.

Front room looking through bedroom door. The large circular contraption on the stove is an oven. The docent took glee in calling it an early microwave.

Bedroom.

Bedroom, opposite end.

Back in Dawson City again, Service returned to his cabin. There he wrote a third book of poetry, Rhymes of a Rolling Stone.

Robert Service at desk in front of wood stove.

Robert Service left Dawson City for good in 1912.

Service's typewriter (or a replica).

In Europe, Service became a Toronto Star war correspondent during the Balkan Wars and subsequently an ambulance driver during WWI. In Paris, he met his wife, Germaine. The couple had twin girls, one of whom died in infancy.

Docent reading Robert Service poetry.

One of Service's most famous poems, "The Cremation of Sam McGee," begins:

There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge
I cremated Sam McGee.

Now Sam McGee was from Tennessee, where the cotton blooms and blows.
Why he left his home in the South to roam 'round the Pole, God only knows.
He was always cold, but the land of gold seemed to hold him like a spell;
Though he'd often say in his homely way that "he'd sooner live in hell."

Robert Service in chair by front steps of cottage.

By that time money was no issue. Service and his family later lived in California and finally in the Monte Carlo section of Monaco. Service died there in 1958 and Germaine in 1988.

Doug in chair on front porch of Robert Service cabin.

Excerpt from "The Spell of the Yukon" on side of a building in Dawson City.

Canada 2022: Klondike 3 - Tr'ondëk Hwëch'in, Klondikers, Luminaries, and Miners of Miners

Sat, 23 Jul 2022 20:00:00 +0200

Our first day in Dawson City, we meandered about town, eventually coming upon the Dawson City Museum, built in 1901 as the Territorial Administration Building.

A shady respite from the heat on Dawson City Museum front steps.

The museum's exhibits cover Dawson City's history, beginning with the original First Nations inhabitants of the region.

First Nation artifacts.

Long before it referred to a gold rush, "Klondike" referred to the vast territory of the Tr'ondëk Hwëch'in, and is in fact a mispronunciation of Tr'ondëk. As was typical, from the 1800s to 1960s, Indian children were sent to mission and boarding schools, where they were forbidden to speak their native language or engage in any of their cultural activities.

   Ownership of the land was not restored to the Tr'ondëk Hwëch'in until 1988.
   Town luminaries are showcased in the museum and on the grounds of the nearby former Commissioner's Residence.
   Joseph Ladue had long been a miner and trader in the Yukon and was there when gold was discovered on the Klondike. He quickly laid out a 160-acre townsite and later built the first log cabin in Dawson City.

Ladue showed his plot to government surveyor William Olgivie, who had come to the Yukon along with George Dawson to map out the international boundary between Alaska and Canada and was there when gold was struck on the Klondike.

William Olgivie surveyed Dawson City. He also regulated the miners' staking process and registered their claims.

At Olgivie's suggestion, Ladue named the town for Dawson, Director of the Geological and Natural History Survey of Canada.

Dawson also studied and recorded the Yukon's geology, geogrpahy, botany, native languages, and legends.
Jack McQuesten arrived in the Yukon in the 1870s and was there to supply Klondikers. He partnered with Arthur Harper and Albert Mayo in the Alaska Commercial Company, captained the first steamer on the Upper Yukon River, established forts, married a native woman with whom he had 11 children, and retired in Berkeley, CA.

There are many exhibits about the many ways people sought gold in the Klondike—even by diving to the river bottom.

Industrious people came to Dawson to mine the miners: fur traders, roadhouse and hotels owners, grocers, sawmills owners, and eventually tourism.

Among those industrious people were many women. They played a prominent role in Dawson's history.

The Chilkoot Trail started in Dyea, AK, near Skagway, and was the first leg of the Klondikers harrowing journey to the Yukon.

Martha Purdy of Chicago joined the Klondike Stampede in 1898, climbing the extremely arduous Chilkoot Trail from Dyea, AK, then on to Dawson. She later operated a sawmill, married Commissioner of the Yukon George Black, volunteered in Britain during WWI, was awarded for her research on Yukon flora, and replaced her ill husband as an MP.

At 55, Anna Degraf carried her sewing machine north in search of her son. She didn't find her son but did become a successful dressmaker.

Anna Degraf, Dressmaker

Among Degraf's dance hall girl clients was Kathleen "Klondike Kate" Rockwell, who was showered with up $750 a night in miners' gold nuggets.

Dancehall Girl Klondike Kate certainly knew how to mine the miners.

Belinda Mulrooney turned the hot water bottles and cloth she arrived with into a cafe, construction company, and hotels.

Entrepreneur Belinda Mulrooney

And of course there were the Madams: "Bombay Peggy" Duval, "Madame Zoom" Corbett, and Mathilde "Ruby" Scott. Frenchwoman Ruby was well-respected in the community and gave generously to charities. After running her house for 27 years, in 1961, she was charged and fined for her operation.

Madam Mathilde "Ruby" Scott

There were other entertainers, as well. Gédéon Pépin, also French, arrived as organist for St Mary's Church but also performed concerts on piano, violin, and cornet; founded and directed Dawson City's first brass band; composed such titles as the "Arctic Brotherhood Two-Step"; and accompanied Robert Service in a poetry recital.

Virtuoso musician Gédéon Pépin

Some came to serve. Georgia Powell arrived with a team of the Victorian Order of Nurses to treat sick and injured miners.

Georgia Powell & her team of nurses.

On the second floor of the museum is the courtroom of the Yukon Supreme Court, still in use today.

Yukon Territory Supreme Court

Next up: The Bard of the North

Alaska 2022: More Spectacular Boondocking

Thu, 21 Jul 2022 20:19:00 +0200

Another boondocking find: last night’s site at a gravel bar on the Matanuska River, flowing from the glacier about 25 miles away.

Today we drove by the glacier. Now on our way to Valdez.

Canada 2022: Klondike Loop 2 - Dawson City

Mon, 18 Jul 2022 21:00:00 +0200

A few miles before Dawson City driving the Klondike Loop, you cross the Klondike River where it flows into the Yukon.

Bridge over Klondike River a few miles from Dawson City.

The next half dozen miles are lined on both sides of the road with huge piles of tailings from dredging the Klondike and Yukon Rivers for gold.

River dredging tailings along Canada Rte 2 along the few miles into Dawson City, Yukon.

The Dawson City dancehall girl sign interrupts the tailings.

Tailings and pool left from dredging the rivers for gold.

A large levee has been recently built along the Yukon in Dawson City. This year with the high water it definitely seemed worth it, but it blocks the view of the river from the city.

Yukon River flowing past Dawson City.

We'd called from Pelly Crossing and were able to reserve a dry site at Gold Rush Campground on the north edge of Dawson City, where we'd also stayed in 2017.

Bright blue Gold Rush Campground office/showers/laundry.

We were squeezed into a corner site, the advantage being a bit of shade.

Our shady corner campsite.

Dry sites are often the best spots in a campground. Many of those with hook-ups were in the middle of the campground with no shade and slide-out to slide-out for a view.

Sites with hookups in the middle of the campground with no shade. The Scar behind on the hillside.

On our 2017 Alaska/Yukon trip, we had little idea how long it would take to drive from place to place and realized only later we could have lingered longer in Dawson City.

Doug ambling along Dawson City's streets.

Even when crowded, the town just has an allure.

It's dirt streets:

Its colorful building: old...

...and new.

Its false-fronted buildings...

...some in better repair than others.

Many buildings have a metal roof:

Some, like Klondike Kate's Cabins, are sided in metal, as well.

The colorful buildings of the Westmark Hotel now occupy both sides of Fifth Ave:

The variety of other old buildings:

St Andrew's Church has seen better days...

... as have the "Kissing Buildings." Built directly on permafrost, when the buildings were heated, they sank & leaned into each other.

Dawson City's wood plank sidewalks with their dips and nicks add to the charm:

"Weathered Moosehide Hanging" is the native Han name for the scar on the hillside at the north end the town. It was caused by geologic events at least 1,700 years ago.

The Scar on the hillside, caused by geologic events.

According to the Han legend, the Han, who lived at the mouth of the Klondike, believed a tribe to the south was stealing their people. A fight ensued, during which the Han at the top of the hill cut down a tree, which began a landslide that killed the tribe at the bottom. The Scar seems visible from everywhere in town.

Alleys run between the rear of buildings.

Cloud formations have added to the sheer beauty of our surroundings throughout the trip.

There's a Curling Center next to the Rec Center. A young ranger at Tombstone Territorial Park, a Quebec transplant, told us that Dawson City makes a huge effort with frequent activities to keep folks' spirits up during the 24-hour darkness of winter days.

Curling Center & Rec Center

Summer activities abound for locals and tourists. There are races: running, motorcycle, outhouse. There are tournaments: golf, poker, softball. There's a music fest, Aboriginal Day June 21, and Canada Day July 1.
Dawson has a Harper Street, named for Irishman Arthur "Hard Luck" Harper, the "Father of the Yukon." Along with Joseph Ladue, he formed the Dawson City Town Site Company in 1896. He and his Athabaskan wife, Sophie, had a son, Walter, who was the first perosn to summit Denali, in 1913.

Perhaps a distant relative?

We frequented Riverwest Bistro, whose baristas came to accept my request for ice for their delicious coffee.

Doug at Riverview Bistro. Of course the Yukon is not visible unless you are walking on the levee.

Along with the visitors centers, grocery store, trading post, and emporium, the cafe is located on Front St, the only paved street in town.

We thought the van was really dirty after the miles of construction. Little did we know how relatively clean it was—its black trim was still visible!

Next up: Dawson City Museum & Robert Service Cabin

Canada 2022: Dirt, Mosquitoes, Spiders, and the Arctic Circle

Sun, 17 Jul 2022 01:25:00 +0200

June 29-July 1, we drove from Dawson City about 45 miles then 250 interesting miles up the dirt/gravel Dempster Highway to the Arctic Circle.

No We Are Here! Arctic Circle picture for us. While Marilyn swatted the hordes of mosquito greeters while

getting a couple pics…

…Doug attempted to diminish the numbers that occupied the van when Marilyn got out.

Arctic Circle Greeters

Driving back south we decided to camp at Tombstone Territorial Park along the Dempster. Our campsite was one of the most beautiful spots we have ever camped, right on the North Klondike River, so we decided to stay a second night before heading back to Dawson City.

Video of our campsite on North Klondike River.

The van is now officially a Yukon/Alaska car as just 20 miles from the end of the Dempster—after 530 miles of dirt and gravel—a truck threw up a stone that made a nice spider in the windshield.

Dempster Hwy Rock Art

Overall the 550+ miles of dirt was grand, with wonderful scenery.

Canada 2022: Klondike Loop 1 - Whitehorse to Dawson City, Yukon

Fri, 15 Jul 2022 06:49:00 +0200

July 25 we left Whitehorse on the Alaska Highway, aka the AlCan, headed northwest to Dawson City.

The Alaska Highway, aka the Alcan.

On this leg of our trip, we drove the Klondike Loop from Whitehorse to Dawson City. The next leg would take us from Dawson City to Tetlin Junction. Later, we'll drive from Tok to Haines Junction, where we may turn south to Haines. Even if we go to Haines, we'll have to return to Haines Junction to continue on to Whitehorse.

We'd thought to stroll the 1-1/4-mile-long boardwalk along the Yukon River in Carmacks, but it was flooded.

It is an interesting year, the rivers are flowing at flood stage while the land is dry due to a lack of spring rainfall. Unfortunately this will produce many fires this summer. In fact, they've already begun.

Wildflowers and flowers in pots and hanging baskets are everywhere in the Yukon. The growing season is short, about May 1 to September 30, and its color is evidenced in yards, businesses, and city streets.

Crossing the Yukon River from Carmacks.

Upriver from Carmacks is Five Finger Rapids, where Klondikers in their handmade craft met not just rapids on the immense Yukon but 5 rock formations as well. One has been removed to facilitate navigation for modern vessels.

Five Fingers Rapids was the demise of many a Klondiker's dreams, if not of the Klondiker himself.

We investigated a small independent campground on Tatchun Creek a little further down the road, but given the mosquitoes, opted to boondock in a large gravel pit we'd passed a few miles back.

The mosquitoes weren't quite as bad in the gravel pit.

11:30 PM. The sun barely sets this far north.

Just past Pelly Crossing the next morning, we came to the first of many stops to wait for a pilot car. Aside from the usual maintenance required by upheavals caused by permafrost, this was a huge reconstruction project.

Waiting for the pilot car.

New bridge under construction.

Who isn't awed and entertained by gigantic road machines?

Women drove numerous of the pilot cars and heavy equipment.

And that's why everyone's vehicle turns brown. But looking back, we realized our van was quite clean when we reached Dawson City.

You know you're almost to Dawson City when you see the bridge over the Klondike River.

The Klondike flows into the Yukon just south of Dawson City.

Next up: Dawson City.

Canada 2022: California to Whitehorse, Yukon Territory via Washington & British Columbia

Thu, 14 Jul 2022 08:45:00 +0200

Doug & Grandson, Diego

At some point during planning for our Canada-Alaska road trip, Doug suggested and I agreed that it'd be better for my partially fused spine if I flew into Whitehorse and met him there. Doug left home June 8, with our neighbor's mother riding shotgun. After a 17-hour/943-mile run, he dropped her at home in Long Beach, WA, spent the night in their driveway, and the next day drove on to Seattle.

Doug's route from home to Whitehorse, Yukon Territory.

Unfortunately, our son-in-law, Javier, had contracted Hepatitis A, so rather than several days with daughter, Katie, Javier, and grandson, Diego, Doug made the most of an afternoon walk with Katie and Diego and a wave to Javier.

Katie & Diego check out the roses.

Further north in Bellingham, he enjoyed several days with son, Andrew, and daughter-in-law, Devon.

You might say Drew and Devon love to read. Drew of course also loves to be the mover and hanger while doing a major living room rearrangement under Devon's direction.

Drew & Devon's cat Auggie decided Doug's down vest was the perfect bed.

Guen peaked around the corner briefly.

Doug also got in visits with a couple of friends. June 15, with ArriveCan paperwork in hand, he headed to the Peace Arch border crossing at Blaine WA.

Crossing the border from Washington into British Columbia.

Just across the border, in White Rock, British Columbia, he stopped for breakfast with friends Gail and Alan.

Alan & Doug

Gail & Doug, friends since San Diego days in the '70s.

Then Doug drove a bit and found spots near Whistler for the next two nights.

Cal-Cheak Recreation Site, Whistler, BC.

Gott Creek Recreation Site near Whistler.

TRX Straps attach to back door hinge for daily workouts.

Near Gott Creek.

Cayoosh CreekCampground

Near Cayoosh Creek, BC.

Near Seton Lake south of Lilloet.

Driving Hwy 99 from border to near Cache Creek, BC.

North of 99/97, aka Caribou Highway, junction.

Dawson Creek, BC, Mile 0 of the Alaska Highway (AlCan), 1,350 miles from Bellingham, WA.

In Dawson Creek Doug stocked up on food and found the perfect used book store, Faking Sanity, which also made an amazing latte. Small pleasures.

Dawson Creek, BC, Alaska Highway Mile 0.

As in the US, wildfires have taken a toll in Canada. Trees not killed by fire have been weakened by bark beetle.

Boondocking for the night northwest of Dawson Creek along the Tetsa River in Northern Rocky Mountains Provincial Park

Following the Tetsa River.

Muncho Lake. We stopped here in 2019 to dry everything out. We boondocked just up the road, which Marilyn remembers well, as Happy Birthday was spray painted on the concrete barriers & it was her younger son's birthday.

With our longer twin at Watson Lake.

Near Teslin, Yukon Territory.

Flooded Teslin Lake Campground. We camped here previously.

Doug arrived in Whitehorse June 21 and checked in with Pioneer Campground south of town to make sure they had the last-minute reservation Marilyn had made. As they couldn't fit him in that night, he did what he liked most of all, boondocking, north of town.

Whitehorse, Yukon Territory, east end of the Klondike Loop.

Meanwhile, back at base camp in Visalia, CA, I worked on a few projects. I machine-hemmed cotton-linen fabric I’d ordered to make dish towels:

Cat name ABCs for Drew & Devon.

Herb ABCs for my son Stephen & wife, Jessie.

An AlphaCactus for us.

Seattle ABCs for Katie & Javi.

And a soft book for the one who will actually be learning his ABCs.

I hung the new shades over the new living room windows, & loved the shadows.

cleaned my work room (!),

& did some of this at friends'.

June 23, a friend drove me the 45 minutes to the Fresno airport. I grew nostalgic as we flew into SFO (San Francisco Airport), remembering my childhood years in San Jose, post-college years in Palo Alto, and visiting Stephen and Jessie during their San Francisco years. It’s been too long since we've spent time in the Bay Area.
I walked 2 miles to the international terminal. I think the shuttle was outside, but the exercise was good, and I had a 5-hour layover. Eventually, I boarded Air Canada for Vancouver, British Columbia.

Descent into Vancouver, BC, in bright blue skies with mountains as backdrop.

Landing in Vancouver, BC.

I walked another mile through the Vancouver terminal to customs. By the time I finished telling the customs agent about our trip, I think he wanted to come with me. I was so tired by the time I reached the last agent that when she asked where I was coming from I told her Vancouver.…

View from Vancouver Terminal, where I enjoyed an authentic baguette sandwich.

Two hours later, we boarded AirCan for Whitehorse, Yukon Territory. Descending into Whitehorse was breathtaking. It was hard to get a good picture, especially from an aisle seat (always my choice).

The Yukon has had a lot of snow this year. Oh, that it could send some to California!

Yukon River is the light gray T at bottom. Even from several thousand feet it is huge!

By the time I exited baggage, found Doug in the van, and we arrived at Pioneer Campground, it was 1:00 AM. But who would know? It was still light out. Our usual spot, Robert Service Campground, was closed for construction, but Doug had assured me we had a great site.

Our site, in the trees, no one around.

The rest of the campground: wall-to-wall RVs.

There was a group of Germans traveling by bus and sleeping in a unique trailered bunkhouse, which was referred to as the Chicken Coop.

Each window of the 3-tiered bunkhouse opened.

The only problem with our campsite was the mosquitoes. Thank goodness for our side and rear door screens from Rolef Solutions in Montreal! And we hadn't even got to the helicopter-size mosquitoes of Alaska yet!

Side door with mosquito screen down.

Rear door mosquito screen.

The next day, we walked the town and the Yukon River

Doug at a wonderful cafe.

Across from the cafe was a small park where music groups played. Daycare kids, each school in a different color tee, made a colorful audience.

Whitehorse mural.

As in the the US, for decades, Indian children in Canada were removed from their homes and sent to mission or boarding schools, where they were forbidden to speak their native languages or practice any of their customs. On the banks of the Yukon, 9 burls represent the 9 First Nations languages of students at the Whitehorse Mission School. Commissioned by the Whitehorse Aboriginal Women's Circle, the momument's purpose is to encourage communication, healing, and awareness.

Monument to Indian children removed from their homes and sent to mission schools.

The nearby Healing Totem, carved by Tlingit Master Carver Wayne Price, represents the reunion of families separated by the residential school system. In 2019 in Carcross, Yukon, we'd watched Mr Price and apprentices carving a canoe from a log.

Healing Totem.

By the time we returned to the campground, pourinr rain had flooded our campsite. Doug manoeuvered the van onto the narrow dry spot, which allowed us access via the passenger side.Then he noticed the folks at a neighboring site, which was above water, were packing up. They had paid for the night, so we moved to the dry site. Soon a truck approached our old site, with a choice of it or the one next to it. When we told them we'd just vacated it, they asked if we had any life jackets.

In the morning, we'd head northwest to Dawson City.

Alaska 2022: Boondocking at Its Best

Sun, 10 Jul 2022 20:02:00 +0200

Saturday, July 8. We woke in Nenana to heavy smoke and bad viz. We enjoyed breakfast at the local cafe and then headed to Denali where we hit the visitor center but quickly left the masses.

There we were, heading for Talkeetna when I saw a place, did a U-turn and Marilyn said, Why not?

So we are camped, well actually parked, on a narrow pullout off Highway 3 with the right tires on the bank of the Nenana River as it makes a 90 degree bend. Rather calming. And so far no cell service, and finally, no mosquitoes. 56 degrees, rain and wind—couldn't get much better. Plus, no smoke.

We probably made 80 miles today. Tomorrow the plan is to get to Talkeetna early and enjoy their bakery.

Washington and Water: Some Hooptedoodle

Thu, 07 Jul 2022 17:00:00 +0200

Road trips can inspire what Steinbeck calls "hoopetedoodle," thoughts we "don't want...to get mixed up in the story" (see sidebar). Our fall 2021 trip had Marilyn thinking about Washington's water.

Where's the Ocean?
The first time I visited Seattle with Doug, I thought it was on the ocean. Nope, he said, it's on Puget Sound. The Olympic Peninsula is on the Pacific. The Sound is the route for cargo and cruise ships from the ocean to Seattle

Puget Sound: cranes offload cargo from ships.

Then, how far is Seattle from the ocean? As the crow flies, 95 miles due west on the Olympic Peninsula is the Tree of Life at Kalaloch Campground. Driving distance is about 175 miles, whether you go north over the top of the Olympic Peninsula or south through Olympia and around.

Tree of Life, suspended between eroded cliffs, near Kalaloch Campground.

As-the-crow-flies & driving distance Seattle to Tree of Life on west coast of Olympic Peninsula.

The Coast from Seattle to the Canadian Border
From Seattle north 111 miles to the Canadian border, there's Elliott Bay, Puget Sound, Possession Sound, Port Susan, Skagit Bay, Padilla Bay, Samish Bay, Bellingham Bay, Lummi Bay, Birch Bay, Semiahmoo Bay, Boundary Bay, and the Strait of Georgia. It's all salt water, but is it the ocean?

There's lots of salt water along Washington's coast from Seattle to Canada.

Along that route, Bellingham is a favorite place. In fact, we bought a house there in 2005, thinking we'd move there, but that's another story. For several years now, Doug's son and daughter-in-law have lived in our house, which is great, because we have a room to stay in whenever we head north.

We love to walk the Bellingham Bay Boardwalk to Woods Coffee.

Devon, Drew, Doug Snider on Bellingham Bay Boardwalk.

Doug's kids & me, Bellingham Harbor. Have we ever mentioned that they are all tall?

We've left the mainland many times on a ferry to islands, peninsulas, and Alaska. It's always seemed like being on part of the ocean.

On a Washington ferry, 2007.

Whidbey Island & Olympic Peninsula North Coast

Whidbey Island & the Olympic Peninsula

West of the mainland, we've camped on Whidbey Island at Deception Pass. Doug again explained when we first camped there that we were not on the ocean, but on the Strait of Juan de Fuca.

Camped at Deception Pass SP, Whidbey Island.

Strait of Juan de Fuca at Deception Pass SP.

From Whidbey Island, we've taken the Coupeville ferry to Port Townsend on the northeast tip of the Olympic Peninsula.

Coupeville-Port Townsend ferry approaching Port Townsend.

Port Townsend is a very special place to Doug, as during WWII his father spent part of his time at the Coast Guard base there. It's now the campground we stay in.

Port Townsend Marina, 1940s, with temporary barracks on spit.

Located on the Strait of Juan de Fuca at the entrance to Puget Sound, Port Townsend was once a thriving shipping port.

Our Promaster van in our favorite spot, a dry site (no hookups), next to the marina and Port Townsend Bay.

We've also camped at Fort Worden, just north of Port Townsend.

Looking from Fort Worden across Strait of Juan de Fuca to Canada.

While camped at Port Townsend in early 2022, I was curious about three boats that were all motoring toward an island.

3 Boats & an Island, Port Townsend.

As the boats made a 180-degree turn, I realized the "island" was rising! It was a submarine that had come from the Pacific Ocean through the Strait of Juan de Fuca.

Submarine & Escort

The boats were its escort to Bangor Trident Base on the Hood Canal.

Crossing the Hood Canal on the floating bridge. When vessels such as the submarine & its escort reach the entrance to the Hood Canal, bridge spans swing open.

We've camped on the Hood Canal, and in 2021, spent a fabulous 10 days there sharing an AirBnB with Doug's kids. Of course when we first camped there, I thought we were on the ocean. Duh--we were facing east, and we all know the sun rises in the east, so of course we weren't on the Pacific Ocean!

2010 on the Hood Canal—3 vans ago. We still have the VW.

However, may I point out that when we camped at Avila Beach, CA, the sun did come up over the Pacific, which took a bit to wrap my mind around. Also, please note anomalies such as inland Reno being west of coastal LA.

Facing east to Seattle & Mt. Ranier from west side of Hood Canal.

To add to my confusion, the Hood Canal isn't even a canal—it's a fjord.

Another famous Doug's-foot kayak pic: with his kids on the Hood Canal, 2021. We swam in it, too—it's definitely salt water.

Hurricane Ridge Trail parking lot, Olympic Mountains. I was not lost--I knew the ocean was...that way!

Olympic Peninsula West Coast
One year we camped on the Makah Indian Reservation on the northwest tip of the Olympic Peninsula.

Meandering the West Coast of the Olympic Peninsula.

We drove out to Cape Flattery, also part of the reservation, and walked the short trail to the overlook decks.

Doug, Cape Flattery, northwesternmost point in the contiguous US.

Across the water is Cape Flattery Lighthouse on Tatoosh Island.

Cape Flattery Lighthouse.

And below is—the ocean! Cape Flattery is where the Salish Sea meets the Pacific! The what? More on that below....

Eureka! I was on the Pacific Ocean!

We've also camped at other spots along the west coast of the Olympic Peninsula.

Doug & Mz Agnes, our Ford van, Quileute Reservation Oceanside Resort Campground near LaPush. Definitely our kind of "resort."

Gigantic logs had washed up on the beach.

Kalaloch Campground—nothing like camping right above the ocean's edge.

Cape Disappointment SP, in our VW Westy.

Marilyn looking toward North Head Lighthouse, Cape Disappointment SP.

Bald Eagle, Long Beach Peninsula.

Long Beach Peninsula: we wished the sign had been at the other end of the trail, where we started the walk.

It proved impossible to avoid the water, sometimes knee-deep for Marilyn/ankle-deep for Doug.

Doug & sunfish.

The Salish Sea

In 2009, the name "Salish Sea" was agreed to by the US, Canada, Tribes, and First Peoples. Encompassing the single ecosystem of the Strait of Juan de Fuca, the Strait of Georgia, and Puget Sound, the name acknowledges the first inhabitants of these coasts, the Coast Salish, whose ancestors continue to live on the Salish Sea today. "How the Salish Sea Got Its Name," a very interesting article, tracks the history of the designation "Salish Sea." According to "The Marginal Seas Of The Pacific Ocean," the Salish Sea is a "marginal" sea of the Pacific Ocean, meaning, "a division of an ocean that is either enclosed by peninsulas, islands, or archipelagos and is adjacent to an open ocean."

One More Coast

Due west of Blaine, WA, is 5-square-mile Point Roberts, WA, located on the tip of the Tsawwassen Peninsula of British Columbia.

South of the 49th Parallel, Point Roberts is part of the US.

Though 26 miles through Canada by car—or school bus, for some children—because it's below the 49th parallel, Point Roberts is part of the US. Point Roberts, the coast from Seattle to Canada, and the north coast of the Olympic Peninsula form about 60% of Washington's coast. All three face Canada—good thing we're friends.

So, of 3 Coasts, a Peninsula (& a Bunch of Islands), Only 1 Coast is on the Pacific Ocean, Right?

Oregon's Pacific Coast runs roughly north-south. California's runs northwest-southwest. Washington's runs north-south from Cape Flattery to Cape Disappointment. However,

1) the coastal waters from the Canadian border south to Birch Bay are part of the Salish Sea;

2) the Hood Canal and the coastal waters from Birch Bay south to Seattle are part of Puget Sound;

3) Puget Sound is part of the Salish Sea; therefore,

All of Washington's coasts are part of the Pacific Ocean!
I was right: on my first visit to Seattle, I was on the ocean! But, no one who lives in or visits Seattle would ever say they were on the Pacific Ocean.

So I've answer the question of where is the ocean in Washington, but...

How Long Is the Coast of Washington?

According to the Congressional Research Service, west coast state lengths are: Oregon, 296 miles; California, 840; Washington, 157. Respective driving distances are 398, 907, 507. Atlas Obscura came to the rescue. In somewhat comprehensible language, and even featuring Puget Sound and Washington state as examples, it explains that a coastline's length is determined by fractals, coastline paradoxes, and such.

Shoreline miles are perhaps more comprehensible. NOAA lists Oregon at 1,410; California at 3,427; Washington at 3,026. These miles include "offshore islands, sounds, bays, rivers, and creeks to the head of tidewater."

And Then There Is the Fresh Water
Washington has lots of fresh water, too, most notably the Columbia River. The mighty 1,240-mile-long river flows 190 miles northwest from Columbia Lake in British Columbia, then south 750 miles to Wallula Junction, WA, and finally, 300 miles west to the Pacific Ocean, forming much of the Washington-Oregon state line.

The 1,240-mile course of the Columbia River. We have been to places labeled in purple.

We've been fortunate to have camped along the Columbia in British Columbia, Washington, and Oregon.

Lake Roosevelt, Columbia River, WA.

Crossing the Columbia near Lake Roosevelt on the free Inchelium-Gifford Ferry, operated by the Colville Confederated Tribes.

Ferry across Upper Arrow Lake on the Columbia, BC

Bridge across Columbia to Revelstoke, BC

Columbia at Golden, BC, where we celebrated Canada Day with the locals at a river-side BBQ and concert.

Crossing the Columbia from Oregon to Washington, first to an island on a small car ferry, then on a bridge.

Back to Seattle
So now that I know that Seattle is technically on the Pacific, what about all that water within the city? Seattle is comprised of 41% water!

Green lines are roughly Seattle city limits.

The Lake Washington Ship Canal, which bisects the city, was completed about 100 years ago for the transport of coal, logging, fishing, and naval vessels between Puget Sound and Lake Washington. Today the Ship Canal accommodates mainly the fishing fleet and pleasure craft.

Aerial view of Washington Ship Canal and Ballard (Chittenden) Locks, which accommodate the elevation change from the Sound to the lake.

Boats in Ballard Locks.

Ballard Bridge raised for boats leaving the locks.

A fish ladder at the locks preserves access for salmon to their spawning grounds.

Salmon leaping up fish ladder.

Fish ladder viewing windows.

Salmon seen through viewing window.

Seattle also has the Duwamish Waterway separating downtown from West Seattle, Green Lake, Union Lake, and a bunch of creeks.

There are lots of ways to get around on Seattle's water:

Doug's daughter, Katie, and me kayaking on Lake Washington. We've also walked around Green Lake many times.

Doug and Katie, crossing Puget Sound via ferry.

The Duck land/water tour is a fun way to see Seattle.

You could arrive and depart Seattle via seaplane.

A lot of bridges are required to traverse Seattle by car. Katie and husband, Javier, on Lake Washington trail.

Paddling under a Monet's-Garden-type bridge.

Voilà—the lily pads!

You could be a beaver to get around Seattle...

...or a duck or a turtle.

Some Seattleites live in floating houses.

Well, there you have it. My mental meandering about Washington and water has come to an end...for now.

—Marilyn

Canada 2022 : Millions of Critters

Wed, 06 Jul 2022 09:00:00 +0200

Doug had a lot of rain coming north through British Columbia.

Doug had been on the road for about three weeks when Marilyn flew to Whitehorse, Yukon Territory to join him.
From the Washington/British Columbia border north, Doug was treated to lots of wildlife. He did a great job getting pictures, but being alone in the van and given the shyness of wildlife, he wasn't always able to. Besides, the point, I sometimes have to remind myself, is not to record but to experience the trip.

Sometimes the Caution: Moose sign proves accurate. This guy was still in felt with the beginnings of a rack on him.

Best not to get out of the vehicle to get closer to wildlife.

For approximately 40 miles, buffalo seemed to enjoy eating right next to the road.

Could there be a more perfect picture of a bear?

There are two types of caribou in the Yukon: barren-ground and woodland. Given their range, this one is probably Woodland Caribou.

Another black bear along the roadside.

Driving above Miles Canyon on our way out of Whitehorse we encountered this red fox out for a stroll.

Always on the lookout for wildlife, Doug spotted another moose on the road as we headed north on the AlCan Highway.

We had no problem slowing to allow her to cross. The moose would no doubt win any contest with a vehicle.

Who, me?

Two of these little guys were around our campsite at Eagle Plains, halfway up the Dempster Highway (there's a blog coming about that drive). I think it's a juvenile Canada jay.

Heading back south after our brief stop at the Arctic Circle, I commented that we hadn't seen any of the wildlife that inhabit the area, when Doug spotted two musk ox attempting to cross the road!

You'll just have to take my word that the black is a musk ox hustling back into the roadside brush.

The musk ox's mate hustled after.

The rangers at the campground and back in Dawson recorded our rare sighting and even called the rangers in Inuvik to share the news.

Not all critters are equal. At last count, we think we've met at least a couple million mosquitoes on this trip. At the Arctic Circle, we were greeted by swarms of them. Dressed elegantly in my mosquito bonnet, I got a few shots of the van next to the sign before jumping back in the van, accompanied by umpteen new friends.

Results of our mosquito swatting prowess on van ceiling. Hydrogen peroxide takes it out.

Thank goodness for the mosquito screens on our side and back doors. They've been unfurled the entire trip. We ordered them from Rolef Solutions of Montreal during the pandemic. We'd originally planned to have them installed during our 2020 eastern Canada trip, but...covid.

Side door screen is held closed by magnetic strips.

Back door screen has black zip-up curtain, also.

When our Maxx fan in the ceiling is on, mosquitoes congregate on it, hoping to find a way to us, clinging on even when it's at 60% power.

Thermacell, which runs on little fuel containers and a repellent pad, has worked quite well keeping the mosquitoes away when outdoors.

Mosquito repellent incense sticks also help. We got these from Katie after out time with Doug's kids last summer at the Hood Canal.

We'll be back with more on our current trip in Canada and now in Alaska.

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.

Thank you, as always, for reading our blog. If you'd like to get our posts as soon as they are published, simply enter your email in the subscription box in the left sidebar.

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.