BETSY FOR SALE

With great regret we are selling our Betsy.  We are moving and have no place to store her, so we will sell her.  Information on her is below:

MOTORHOME FOR SALE, 2007 Itasca Navion, Mercedes Benz Sprinter Chassis And Diesel Engine
$57,000
One owner (non-smoking) with many upgrades. Sleeps up to 5, with 7 seat belts. 50,000+miles. 15-18 mpg diesel.
We call her Betsy. She has taken us in comfort and with several safety upgrades cross country and to local destinations. We travel with the two of us and miniature poodle Lucy; occasionally our daughter’s family of four has joined us. We have parked in Manhattan, our favorite spot in the Sierras, and many places in between. It’s time for us to give up long distance travel and camping. We are downsizing and no longer have room to keep her. Her photos are on an attached page.  Here are some details:

Engine and Suspension:

MB 2.7 L CDI 5 cylinder turbo-diesel 154 hp – 15-18 mpg
5 speed transmission, 4 wheel ABS with skid control, 150 amp alternator, Dual rear wheels Cruise control
Upgrades by Upscale Automotive, Tualatin, OR: See ww.sprinterstore.com for more details on: Diesel power module, added stabilizers on rear axle, minimizes sway, heavy duty adjustable shock absorbers by KONI for a smooth ride.
3500 Chassis:
Dual rear wheels
23’6” long, 10’9” high, 7’6” wide
Automatic levelers
Two new 6 volt heavy duty coach batteries
6 new Michelin tires
Oversize exterior rearview mirrors

Exterior:
Storm gray fiberglass with blue and yellow trim, back-up camera/monitor, Trailer hitch with luggage rack
Patio awning, Door with screen and electric 2 step into coach, Outdoor shower, One slide-out
Rear ladder to roof, 30 amp power cord

Interior:
Aqua seafoam upholstery and maple cabinets, Ultra leather driver/passenger seats with sheepskin covers,
15” flat screen TV with DVD player
Rear bathroom with large shower (plastic sliding door) skylight above, wardrobe closet, medicine cabinet, under sink storage, ventilator fan
Dinette booth, exterior storage below, 2 seat belts, converts to single bed
Slide-out jackknife sofa, converts to 48” x 70” bed with storage below, 3 seat belts
Galley: 3 burner propane stove, microwave/convection oven combo, fridge with separate large freezer compartment, filtered water system, stainless steel sink, extra counter space, pantry, lots of storage space
Queen size bed over cab, with ladder; lifted up when not in use
Ducted central air and heat, 6 gallon water heater, heated holding tank, smoke and carbon monoxide detector, LPG gas alarm

NADA Guide says the low retail (because of the dings) is $60,265, and that doesn’t count the extras we added at Upscale Automotive. We are pricing this gem at $57,000. Furnishings such as dishes, pots and pans, are available at an extra negotiable price.
***
One owner, 50,000+ miles on an MB Sprinter engine/chassis like those used by UPS and FedEx. Capable of passing many other vehicles on hills. This has been an extraordinary vehicle, trouble free, easy to drive, excellent visibility, attractive and comfortable.

Excellent shape inside and out (except for a ding on each exterior panel over rear wheels and small dents on front of hood).

Call: 530-265-6978, or email: fgg2@sbcglobal.net.

Full bath/dressing room with stand up shower and closet

Shower with skylight and vent fan

Partial kitchen

More kitchen

Dining Table with Banquette seats

Sleeper sofa

Drivers Cab

Queen size bed above cab w/ ladder

Cab

TV over banquetteOne slide out, patio awning

...to the Oregon Coast, September 2011

Travels with Betsy

...to the Oregon Coast, September 2011

The day before the 10th anniversary of 9/11, a Saturday, we escaped the heat of Nevada City and with a stop in Carmichael, fled to the north coast via Clear Lake. Max is with us, and unlike Lucy, this guy gets car sick. We chose the straightest route to get us from I-5 to Oregon’s southern coast, which appeared to be Hwy 20 from Williams. We’ve taken this route before, but usually in the Spring.


Hot all the way up I-5, but once again we marveled at the breadth of this huge agricultural Sacramento valley. Taking a short cut into these hills we saw even more crops, this time gyp corn, being grown for seed, to plant more gyp corn for animal feed. Hot even as we climbed into the Coast Range, now soft camel colored oak-covered hills, heavily eroded until they look in places like pinnacles of bare earth. A lot of rip rap at various places along the road holds them in place. Where there are deciduous trees, they are coloring to russet and gold in this early autumn.


Near the east side of Clear Lake the vineyards begin….Brassfield, Charing Cross, Shannon Ledge. One worth a stop is Ceago Vinegarden, with its field of lavender and veggie garden with ripening tomatoes and peppers of yellow and gold, and its boat dock. Bird netting covered the fig trees. Fields of several varieties of wine grapes were across the road. Walnut, oak and olive trees, an old orchard and a new one, completed the scene near the Tuscan hacienda style buildings.

The slough east of the lake itself has houses and docks on a slime green waterway. But the lake looks pretty good as we drive along its north edge.


The resorts seem old and dilapidated, but there are a couple of newish developments of homes and condos. Through Lucerne, “Switzerland of America” with no sign of anything remotely Swiss, but several lovely little parks with benches facing the lake and the setting sun.



Aurora RV Park, a tacky little place near Nice, appears just in time; we find a slot just above the lake with grass, tables, room for the doggies to play, some shade, and a cooling breeze, just off the main road. In the morning, two boats of fishermen were trying their luck. Grebes scooting and diving under the surface, gulls crying provided some early morning entertainment.


We took a detour and backtracked a bit to see the fantastic display of hand made bird and bat houses along the road in the workman’s front yard. Afraid we might be trapped inside we stayed outside the fence, marveling at his contraptions, ingenuity, and marketing. If you need a bat house for 50 bats we know where you can find one.

Hwy 20 pulls away and swings northwest toward Hwy 101, past Blue Lake with houses on the shore and old tourist camps on the road. Mendocino County … running out of vineyards, crossing the East fork of the Russian River, past signs to Lake Pillsbury and Lake Mendocino, frothing with speed boats. Indian casinos every once in a while…then Hwy 101.

Scenery is so typically Northern California in September…dry grass hillsides with clumps of oaks, forests of redwoods and the occasional small vineyard. The highway becomes more narrow and dark as it passes through redwood groves and state parks. After Scotia and Rio Dell it flattens out and becomes firmly divided. Next thing you know there’s a sign warning we are entering a Tsunumi Hazard Zone. We’re near the Coast, passing grazing cattle and entering Eureka.


Crossed the Golden Bear Bridge, with golden bears at either end, and dropped under it to Camper Corral, one of the 333 best campgrounds in American, according to somebody. Lovely, grassy, lots of room, access to the Klamath river with its muddy banks. Must be tough to run a campground for profit, especially after the main season is over. This one has a lot of fishermen and guides for salmon fishing trips out the Klamath to the ocean, I guess. The man leading us in his golf cart to our site took our order for pizza, made by his wife individually with fresh ingredients, and delivered it just on time. Delicious. What a way to earn a living.


The next day we took the dogs for a muddy walk on the shores of the river, and had them chase balls on the grass. Saw blue heron, lots of sea gulls, bear scat evidence of black bears eating berries; we were told they hung around the fish cleaning station and to watch our little dogs.

Back on 101 we saw several RV fish camps between the road and the river. Then Boom! Ocean on the left, a wobbly road, tall redwoods, fern, summer wildflowers. High fog makes the day soft. Destination, Harris Beach State Park, Oregon, above Brookings. And it was full at 3 p.m., so off to back up spot along the Chetco River in a virgin myrtlewood forest, Alfred Loeb State Park. Land donated in 1948 by Mr. Loeb and several garden clubs. The Chetco River had closed itself to fishing until November; it seemed very low, with rocky shores and little sand. The Oregon State Parks are a wonder…clean, with electricity and water, and often dumps, at most campsites, trash and recycling cans, rest rooms and hot showers, hosts on site, for $24 a night. Amazing.


On the way out back to Brookings we noted farmland, pasture, sand and gravel pits, a concrete plant, a couple of schools along the 8 mile stretch to the highway…apparently the river provides a living.

It’s Tuesday now and we scored a spot at Harris Beach SP, with cable, fog, wind and quiet, plus a laundromat. Our camp was grassy enough and rimmed with fuschia hedges (and hummingbirds) so we could play ball with Max and Lucy. A couple of walks to the beach, one to Rocky Beach and one to the main day use area tired us all out. A leisurely morning allowed some clean up, fix-up on Betsy.


Then it was off to Bandon, where the fog lifted. Gold Beach offered a stop for coffee and snacks, and a wonderful tourist center with voluble volunteers, complete guides to everything. Over one of the terrific 1930’s bridges, and on north. This southern coast of Oregon is as pretty a drive as central and northern California coasts, but the roads are better, wider, there is less of a steep drop off to the ocean. The Driver is beginning to keep his agreement to go the speed limit or 60 mph maximum, much to the relief of the Navigator. Never quite understand the need for speed. A gazillion bikes on the shoulder of Highway 101 above gold Beach and Bandon, going north, make for some nervousness. Some kind of Oregon ride, but we never did find out what it was all about. Being out of touch with hourly/daily news leaves us in the blessed dark about a lot of things.

Wednesday night we camped at Bullards Beach SP, went for a walk as soon as we were settled, eager to get the dogs and us to the beach.  And we walked, walked, walked, through sand over the tops of our shoes, through the dunes and forest to a wonderfully long beach, a mile away.  Seemed as if it were 2 miles away.  But Max and Lucy had a wonderful time on the packed sand, running and chasing, tumbling and running some more.

Cold and wet as it was, we moved up the road, past some clear cut and restored forests on this scenic route, to Sunset Bay SP.  Checking in at 2 p.m. Thursday, we took the next to last site with electricity.  Claiming our spot with a table and chair, we drove toward the end of the road on this peninsula outside Coos Bay.  Shore Acres SP, site of a former summer mansion of L. J. Simpson, lumberman and ship builder.  Although his mansion had burned, and the replacement never was finished due to the Great Depression, the gardens he created have been improved and maintained.  They are now a 5 acre botanical garden,gorgeous with seasonal blooming perennials, a japanese pond and garden, and today, rose gardens in full bloom.  Hydrangeas at the edges, dahlias filling some brick enclosed plots added to the color, all surrounded by the greenest grass.  That sea air really can grow things in this little banana belt of sunshine.  The All America rose garden demonstrated some we would like to have..Sheila's Perfume, Honey Perfume, Hot Cocoa, Julia Child. 

Simpson Reef is the largest haul out for pinnipeds (seals and sea lions) on the Oregon Coast, and it was covered with barking, howling, splashing critters.  Quite a sight and sound, the rocks were not that far away from the viewing spot, so they felt very up close and personal.

A last fire by the cool coast, as we knew we were heading inland tomorow.  Probably the best weather and prettiest campground, we would have stayed another day except we needed to start the journey home.  The nearby day use area provided a grassy area for the dogs to chase balls, a sport they've come to expect when we prepare to leave every morning.  This Friday morning we added the treat of walking on the beach, with Lucy trying to take sticks out of the water, and Max telling us he's a city dog and enough with this wet and sandy feet business.  He absolutely howled when Lucy was in the water.

Enough cool ocean air, we're off to warmer climes, skirting CoosBay and taking Hwy 42 toward Roseburg.  Coquille is a little town named for the river, bounded by green pastures with black angus grazing.  Ponds of logs float nearby, some there so long they are growing grass.  We found a bakery for a morning nosh and a barber shop for Gene, complete with all the local talk of beef prices and who was doing what to whom.  Then it was off to I-5 and the trek home, but with a last stop at an Oregon SP, this time near the Rogue River.  The viewing platform showed us slightly muddy water but moving well, and I guess salmon swimming, although we couldn't see them.  It's still fishing season and a boat or two went by.  The park is at mile 133 of this 215 mile river, flowing from Crater Lake to Gold Beach.

I-5 through Medford and Ashland, trucks roaring by and Driver having a hard time keeping to the 60 mph max we've agreed on when the speed limit is 70.  To get away from the pressure, we turned off at Yreka, not far beyond the California line, and traveled southwest on state hwy 3 toward Weaverville.  Up and over and into Scott Valley, a lovely, long lush valley with towns of Fort Jones and Etna (probaby an old mining town, judging by the statues of prospector and donkey).  Churches from Catholic to Seventh Day Adventist along the road told us there were lots of people living round about, raising cattle and living prosperously.  Several restored (and new) Victorians and a stone Craftsman style home, beside the weathered wood buildings and double wides.  Cattle of choice are black angus.  Then more mountains and lots of evidence of dredging along the various rivers, the Scott being the main one right here.  Never seen so much rock.  And aggregate business from dragging rock out of the riverbed.  And more rock, huge rocks, and lots of them.

Now we climb out of the valley, with signs warning the road is not plowed nights and weekends...fair warning!  Up and over a 5,000 foot Scott Mountain summit and down a very twisty turny steep road, with the Driver handling Betsy magnificiently and the Navigator trying not to look.  Not too bad as there weren't steep dropoffs, but more trees on either side of the road.  Then we came to beautiful Trinity Lake, took the cut-off to Lewiston.  The Trinity River here is beautiful and calls to boaters and fisher people.  At these lower elevations the temperature rises, and by the time we near Redding, there are lots of people on Whiskeytown Lake enjoying their Saturday. 

Red Bluff is a great place for us to spend the night as we are only a couple of hours from home, and chose to travel along Hwy 70 and 99, and not I-5.  The Red Bluff RV park is not fancy, but quiet, clean, and reasonable.  Breakfast out on Sunday and we're on our way.

Summer 2011

TO FALLEN LEAF LAKE

July 6, 2011

Broiling in the oven heat of Nevada City we escaped to a miraculously available campsite at Fallen Leaf Lake.  Banks of thunderheads billowed over the Sierras as we moseyed down 49 through Auburn and Cool to Placerville to Hwy 50 to South Lake Tahoe to Camp Richardson and Fallen Leaf Lake.  The new gps is smaller and more powerful, with our friend Jill still on board.  How come the Garmin always gives out just about a month either side of the expiration of the warranty?  This time it was just before August...new gipsy, new warranty.  Amazing how they have come down in price since our first one five years ago.

We haven't taken Hwy 50 to Lake Tahoe in years, probably since before we moved to Nevada City in 1995.  While not as scenic as Hwy 80, it has its owns beauty, especially winding along the American River.  Despite the stimulus spending on improvements to the road, we were only slightly delayed waiting for the pilot car.  And the widened and strengthened road gave comfort to the Navigator, sitting on the edge of the world in some places.  The downside of Echo Summit (7382), with its view of Lake Tahoe through the gap in the rocky Sierras, is spectacular even through the spattering of raindrops.

Temperatures dropped from 105 near Placerville to 63 at Meyers.  The approach to the beautiful lake from this side is surely schlock at its worst.  South Lake Tahoe, population 23,000+) is one long strip mall, laundromats, Chinese food and burger joints, pepper with old motels.  Tahoe Keys, a development with man made waterways, appears huge.  Little evidence of the Agora fire is apparent from the road.

Fallen Leaf Lake entrance is just beyond Camp Richardson.  We arrived at #79 in time to slideout, level, pull out the awning and chairs, and set up the table shelter to keep the mozzies at bay.  A simple supper and relaxing under the stars from the drive.

Good site...easy walk to the lake, which was bordered by blooms...skunk cabbage, paintbrush, and a wide low bush covered with tiny white flowers.  (Still looking in the Audubon guide for that one.)    Lucy loves to swim after sticks and brings them back until she's so cold she's shivering non-stop.  A lazy day of reading, walking, napping, back to the lake, simple supper, a bonfire, and then DISASTER! 

The house batteries had been weak but we thought some engine time would boost them up.  No such luck.  As we let the fire burn down and readied for bed, we discovered no 12V, no inverter, no generator, no water pump, no way to inflate the air bed.  At least the motors to pull in the step and the slide out worked off the engine batteries so we went for a long drive to South Lake Tahoe, over the State Line.  At 11:30, it was a good time to go...little traffic despite the construction and confusing lane changes.  There have been big changes at State Line since we were last there, years ago.  Large shopping centers, motels, and newly renovated casinos replace the shlock of small old buildings.  Very nice looking architecture, especially on the Nevada side.

After an hour of gawking we pulled to the side of the FLL road to start the generator and blow up the bed.  Oh, bummer, no luck, generator wouldn't start.  Actually the sleeping wasn't bad, the layers of vinyl and padding underneath our TravelSac were sufficient.  Friday morning we packed up and left.  Unused to hauling water as I am, the nearby faucet provided sweet water for coffee, and washing last night's dishes, boiling eggs, brushing teeth, etc.  Propane stove and fridge kept food cold and water hot.

We read the manuals, checked the solenoids, breakers, and fuses, spotted a 40 amp breaker that is probably at fault, but have no idea how to replace it, even if we had one to replace it with.  Home is only two hours away.

The drive north on Hwy 89 around Emerald Bay is spectacular.  Lake Tahoe is gorgeous, weather perfect with snow caps in the background.  I particularly like the uphill switch back road, and the view from the spine where both Lake Tahoe and Fallen Leaf Lake are visible, one on each side.  New rock/concrete walls on either side of the highway help my acrophobia as the passenger side is on the steep-drop side, seeing trees and the lake far below. 

Whizzing past Rubicon and our used-to-be vacation house, down to Meek's Bay and past Glenridge where Brian's house is, we settled down to thread our way through the comings and goings of pedestrians and cars at Tahoma, Homewood, Obexers, Sunnyside, Chambers, fanny bridge, and Tahoe City.  Heading for home, out of the coolth, and home to 90 degree weather...and pool time!  Despite the battery issue, it was a good getaway.

Travels With Betsy, Summer 2011

Are There Waterfalls in Yosemite?

June 21, 2011 - Solstice


Driver:  He sees construction sites, empty buildings, sewage treatment plants, dams and jerks on the road. Navigator:  I see road signs, directions, speed limits, ads and fruit stands.

Using 'shorter distance' on the gypsy we went south on 49 to Folsom, jogging over to 50, turning south on Latrobe Road to 49 again toward Jackson. Through the Southern Mines to the Central Sierra and Groveland, then the Big Oak Flat entrance to Yosemite National Park. From the valley floor we climbed up Hwy 120, Priests Grade, through hills covered in bloom...buckeye, mesquite, toyon. Temperature dropped to 87 from over 100 as we approached the northern entrance...and noticed a sign that said Tioga Pass was open. Surprise, in this year of heavy and late snow, that the eastern Sierra pass was open this early. Lucky us.

Checking out campgrounds as we went, knowing those in the Park were crammed full, we drove into Pine Mountain Lakes...a huge development of homes and a very poor campground. Through the remnants of an earlier forest fire, we noticed that water began to fall over cliffs as we drove down to the Yosemite valley floor. Once there, Cascade Creek sprayed the windshield, the Merced River was almost to the road at the Pohono Bridge and other places.

We expected there would be a crowd, but, good grief, in the late afternoon/early evening, the road became one way, with two lanes in each direction. At Bridal Veil falls we parked (yes, there was parking at this dinner hour) on the road and walked to the base of the falls. The falling water had split several times into roaring creeks and tumbling streams; the mist was soaking those who came within .2 miles of the base. Having no slickers, we edged close enough to feel the spray but not close enough to slip and be soaked.

The trip to the end of the road in this narrow and fairly short valley took us past the flooded river between the roads, with lupine blooming among the burned trees from a previous fire. The grassy meadows with boardwalks, silver granite walls, groves of cottonwood trees, deer grazing, reminded us why Yosemite is so popular and so very beautiful. Gawking up at El Capitan and admiring the new waterfalls everywhere, we were not surprised to see the roads clogged, but bumper to bumper at 7 p.m. on a weeknight????

Across from Yosemite Lodge is Yosemite Falls, causing a major slowing and gawking.  Unexplained, a sign marking Tribal Parking Only.  Other sights along the road:  green growing among the rocks, flooded meadows with dead grey logs, feet sticking straight up; tiny patch of snow clinging to a shady crevasse; white blooming plants that look like small buckeye blossoms, not found in our Audubon guide (because of the seeker, not the guide). 

Outside the park, a racing churning white water river for miles, widening to create islands and flood trees to their lower branches.  Boulders cut in half by the road to Merced,  concavely hanging over the road, stacked, appearing to float in the river.

Directed to a Forest Service camp we pulled into a parking space at Dirt Flat, along the Merced.  Much backing and forthing.  Slike out, levels down, windows open, ready to make dinner at 8 p.m.  Forest Service guy moves us out...parking is not for RVs but for tent camping cars only.  Across the river the Indian Flat Campground on the road to Merced, neither flat nor indian, gave us the one overflow space they had for $42, which bought us a tiny space and electricity, saving us a drive to a WalMart in Merced.

River rafters were everywhere...Zephyr buses and a whole set up right next to the campground, who must make their money in a very short season. Brave souls to go rafting in that water; at least there was water other than white only at that point.  Cedar Lodge on one side offered a bar and a small store, and a pool available to "campers".  Most interesting were the other people in the campground, term loosely used.  Vans and trailers hauling gear and people for church camp outings, cross country treks, father and son combos in the family car, with tents or without, huge class A RVs tucked into tiny spaces, tvs going full blast, dinner on the barbie, families with tiny babies camping in the cabins.  Undoubtedly less expensive than Cedar Lodge next door or closer to the park, the wonderful Yosemite View Lodge, right on the river.

Wednesday we stocked up at the little store on the way to the park entrance, and then hit a very slow moving line of cars waiting to get into the park.  That's what we get for a leisurely sleep in and breakfast.  The two mile backup was literally for entrance to the park, mid-morning.  Rangers working the line waved us to the 'pass' line where we only had to show our Golden Age pass for free and fast admittance.  Through Arch Rock and we were once again on the valley floor and inside Yosemite.  We headed right for the intersection that would take us up to Glacier Point, slowing to avoid the line of traffic waiting for parking near Bridal Veil Falls, causing a few mile backup.  Good choice on our part to explore that walk and the valley floor the night before.

We happily turned off toward Glacier and Wawona, passed the Tunnel View parking lot....which was full, with tour buses, an elephant train that must have seated 60...and drove through the mile long tunnel carved out of rock.  On Hwy 41, toward Wawona to the Glacier turn off...no line of traffic.  Yay!  Approaching 6000 feet elevation, the snow was still on the side of the road.  Roads to various camps were still closed by snow, but a beautiful 75 degrees outside.  The meadows are soggy and the boardwalks mostly submerged.

Washburn Point, on the way to Glacier Point, provided a good lookout, with room in the parking lot.  Glacier parking lot was packed, with at least a 10 minute wait for a parking place and few spaces for our length.  Long lines for the outhouses let us know the facilities were under stress.  Not surprising that nothing over 30 feet is allowed up this road; there's no place to stop except for tour buses, unless you are as enterprising as the rental RV that took up three spaces, apparently arriving hours ago.  Not unhappy that we couldn't walk to the Point at Glacier, happier to go back to Washburn, park easily, and see waterfalls from the top, Half Dome at almost eye level.  A hike from this parking lot to Glacier is possible, but not appealing to us this time.

At the turn off to Tioga Pass, we detoured back to El Portal so buy some fuel, then up and over the pass with water cascading over stacked granite, tumbling down rocks, sheeting across the highway, weeping from under the snow.  Small trees at the side of the road were bent over 90 degrees through snow, tips almost on the roadway...Top of the world views.

At Olmsted Point we stopped for a view of sapphire Tenaya Lake.  The water is almost to the road, drowning tree trunks; what little shoreline is left is covered with snow.  Tenaya is as beautiful as Lake Louise, but not as crowded with hotels at its shores.  A marmot scampered away from Lucy, over the rocks.

Back on the pass highway there were sheets of water 20 feet wide covering the road.  None of the facilities at Tuolumne Meadows were open, what meadows weren't flooded were marshes.  Up and over Tioga Pass at 9945 feet elevation, down to Ellery Lake at 9538, then down the eastern side of the Sierras, less treed, more barren looking.  With clouds casting shadows on granite, the road and canyons widen but are not less steep.  Quite a drop, over 2000 feet in 10 minutes, with the brakes smelling as Gene navigated down toward Hwy 395. 

On the way to Lee Vining, we pulled into a Forest Service camp we thought looked inviting for our second and last night out, but mosquitoes were bad so we opted out and back to 395, one of our favorite highways.  Lee Vining, Mono Lake tufas, Bridgeport, Walker, Topaz Lake, huge this year.  South of Coleville, Bootleg NFS Camp with water provided 63 level spots above the river and the highway.  The Walker is raging, churning, brown with white froth.  A small stream is draining the snow above camp and rushing to the river past our site.

To be home in Nevada City by 11 a.m. Thursday morning, we left camp at 7:00, turned toward Hwy 50 south of Tahoe, over Spooner Summit on 128, through Incline, Crystal Cove, to Kings Beach, Hwy 267, 80 and home.

Lucy the traveling dog most loved the marmot at Olmsted Point, but was also focused on chipmunks and dogs in other cars, but completely unmoved by hairpin turns and steep drop offs from the road.  She also missed the incredible beauty that is Northern California.  From Nevada City to Yosemite to Tahoe...what could be better?

Arizona to California and Home Jan. 2011

Reversing ourselves, we go from Why to Ajo, AZ and pick up Hwy 8 toward Yuma. There is certainly a lot of military land out here.......Army and Air Force bases, a Barry Goldwater range. On the outskirts of Yuma there are fields of low growing green bushes, which I can't identify. Soon we see groves of citrus, acres of hay, and more acres of feed lot (phew!). In the distance, mountain ranges beyond mountain ranges, blue and purple in the shadow, pink and grey in the sun. Irrigation...crossed two major canals running North to South. Then came the RV parks for snow birds, acres of side by side fiberglass boxes on wheels, with a tiny green bush in front of each and mobile homes no longer mobile on the perimeter. Must have been a pool there somewhere. Across the highway there is a strip golf course parallel, and lots being developed for purchase of $169,000. Not sure if that is RV lots only, or lots for houses, or houses included. More miles of sandy desert. Another RV resort this time with palm trees. Out of Dome Valley the freeway winds through the mountains as it criss crosses itself and descends to Yuma, AZ.

Yuma, as the southern route to California, was not really developed until the gold rush in the mid 1840's although it had been discovered a century before by missionaries. Now there are prisons, a Marine AFB, the Colorado River, an RV park with big trees on the river. Fields of lettuce and leafy crops, and broccoli, some with names like Foxy and Fresh Express on trucks. More desert and then Imperial County, CA. Ag didn't care that we had Arizona grapefruit, asking only how far we had been. Quartzsite satisfied and we pass through. Just beyond the border are the amazing Imperial Dunes, with lots of tire tracks running up and I suppose down. We crossed the All American Canal, carrying lots of water. Several old white school buses, trailing port-a-potties, drove the highway, lettered in black with a packing company name, filled with field workers, presumably legally documented by the contractor.

Our goal was Anza Borrego State Park in California, the most southerly State Park we had visited. Reaching the Palm Canyon Campground well after dark, we scouted an empty camp site, knowing it would be for only one night, Thursday, with weekend campers arriving next day. A beautiful area, lovely mountains ringing a very alive desert. Breakfast outside before a (smoky) campfire, then we set out for a 3 mile hike to the oasis and back. No problem, says I, we can do 2.5 miles in 50 minutes in Nevada City, so this won't take 2 hours, more like 1.5 hours. Oh boy, was I wrong. This hike is more like a rock scramble, with elevation gain, lots of rocks and boulders, sandy soil, and a very hot sun. We made it, much to our delight, seeing a tall stand of California fan palms, the only palm native to California, and rushing water, harboring frogs and birds. Part way back we chose the Alternate Trail, which we promptly lost, crossed country to rejoin the main trail and limped back to Betsy and Lucy, sore and tired after 3 hours. Slightly sunburned. Worn out. Drank more water, and took off for parts north.

It was our idea to go to the outskirts of Indio to find a nice camp before the madness of the Palm Desert area. This being Friday night I was a little concerned that we wouldn't find a suitable stopping place soon, and while I wanted to stay in the desert, we decided to go forth and find something on the outskirts of the first major area. However, Salton City on the west shore of the Salton Sea didn't suit, so we pressed onward into what turned out to be miles of manicured green strips, curvey sidewalks and one 'town' after another. Indio, La Quinta and more. And there was no room in the inn........we'd been misled by publications into the Elks Lodge (not for us), and a membership only campground (not for us), and the information that there wasn't a single place to stay that night (it's after 6 p.m. at this point), but to go to the abandoned and closed down Sam's Club, next to WalMart, where we could safely dry camp. Done. Nursing our tired legs, we turned in early after a simple supper and crashed until dawn.

Saturday, after a Starbucks breakfast (we were in the land of the shopping malls after all), we took Hwy 111 North through Indio, La Quinta, Indian Wells, Palm Desert, Rancho Mirage (the last two full of strip malls, obviously older settlements), Cathedral City, Palm Springs, which looks a little tired these days. The newer 'desert' is mile after mile of new housing developments, walled and gated, lots of green grass and flowers in January, with palm trees everywhere, all at the base of a ring of slightly snow capped mountains. Strict sign control keeps everything 'lovely' but the most interesting was one which was obviously grandfathered, a pink elephant spraying water, advertising a car wash, remnant of the era of neon. And the art deco Pickford Theater in Cathedral City. The older cities had rows of car dealerships on 111, but the newer ones were all gated communities, resorts, country clubs. Street names like Fred Waring, Bob Hope, Dinah Shore, Frank Sinatra, and Eisenhower named contributions such as medical clinics. There was even a water park near the end of the strip. Then, suddenly again, desert. And miles and miles of wind farm, with no identifying owner. We were now on I 10 and crossing Windy Point Wash, near Cabazon. Onward through/past Redlands, San Bernadino, and to the beginning of one of our favorite highways, US 395 North. Now we were in desert again of course, going past more military, the backside of Edwards AFB, a Naval Air Weapons Station, and on to Lone Pine. Now, there isn't much in Lone Pine, unless you count the theater turned into a film history museum and a car wash. Alabama Hills surround, the setting of many an old Western movie. The only claim to fame for Lone Pine is that it sits at the north end of Owens Lake. To quote the Boulder Creek RV Park brochure, "The land owners of Owens Valley were conned into giving up their rights and properties to a man named Mulholland, so that the growing city of Los Angeles could now divert the Sierra Mountain water which once flowed into the Lake, instead now to flow into an Aqueduct and supply water to LA for domestic use. As a result, you now see a dry lake which contained minerals to make glass, but also put pollutants in our atmosphere. Today we are still trying to solve that dust problem." In other words, it is virtually dry with blowing white dust. Was that the beginning of the southern California diversion of water from the north?

From now on, we're on familiar ground, going into Bishop this morning for breakfast at Schacts and traveling home past Mammoth, then via Reno and Donner Pass, with little snow left from early storms.

I've added some photos but the captions have mysteriously disappeared...I have a lot to learn.

Hugs from us three,

Gail, Gene and Lucy

To Arizona to See the Skinnie Winnies

Nevada City to Tonapah NV, January 20, 2011, on a clear, cold day. Nothing but dirty snow on the sides of the road, and shimmering icy white on the ridges and summits. Over Donner Pass, and then, miles of beige desert...Walker Lake, Army Ammunition Depot, Naval Air Station, Navy Undersea something (what???). Temperatures dropped from mid 40's to mid 30's. Pink desert and mountain bases shading to purple and gray in the shadow; the GPS turned to night mode, trucks lit top and bottom and Tonopah appeared in a twinkle of lights. Just past the Mizpah Hotel, at a freezing 6200 feet elevation we decided seven hours travel in one day is enough. No WalMart in this town. There was a casino with a Ramada Inn and RV Park, only place to stop for another three hours or so. Gratefully stopped, hooked up, quick dinner, glad to have a place with water and electricity.

Wrong. Goldfield appeared next day not far ahead, with an RV park, a dusty town of mining relics, old wooden and sandstone brick buildings, an ancient fire truck, a mine hoist for sale ($6900 and it's yours), and the Yucca Mountain Repository Oversight office. Wonder if they placed the office near the proposed nuclear waste dump site, i.e., Yucca Mountain.

Beatty is an entrance to Death Valley from the east, which has some nice looking motels and casinos and a newish RV park. Now, at 10:10 a.m., the temperature has risen from the low 30's to the high 50's. Travel is easy on US 95, flat with long straight stretches. There is a lot of guvmint property around here, bases, research, the US Ecology Station; Area 51 and Yucca Mountain signs appear. The Girl Who Kicked The Hornet's Nest is keeping Gene engaged, and with that IPod recorded book and some needlepoint I'm settled with navigation duties at a minimum. Lucy snoozes in her nest.

We come to Indian Springs and Creech AFB, with a new casino, RV park, a few services and a public library. We've dropped to 3500 feet elevation. Then on the outskirts of Las Vegas, we see the Cold Creek Correctional Center and the Paiute Indian Res., elevation 2165.

Searchlight, of Harry Reid fame, is next, a small tidy fairly prosperous looking town with a single runway airport...approximately equidistant from Lake Mead Recreation area and the three corners of CA, NV, and AZ. Then on to Needles when it was only 3:30 p.m.; decided to push through to Blythe, ending at 424 miles today. Whew! Campground there was almost full, to our great surprise. Only a few minutes across the border to AZ and the Quartzsite RV and Gem and Mineral Show. Which is why we came here. So we showed up there at 11:00 the next a.m.

Ohmigosh. Miles and miles, acres and acres of RVs sitting in the desert. This is known as dry camping, meaning there are no facilities, only what you bring with you. No electricity, no water, no dump stations. We are self contained but not with solar panels, so we will only stay 3 or 4 days. Water is an issue, so there are no showers, just PTA bathing. Amazing how used we can get to this. Saturday, Sunday and Monday morning we spent with other Skinnie Winnies, learning how others organize our small vehicles for full time (for some) and dry camping (for us all). Happy hours, pot lucks, women sharing in small groups, men sharing while standing around kicking dust. everyone showing off their innovations. Some are very impressive and we have a notebook full of good ideas. Gary of Nevada City's brother Byron from the Peninsula has organized this tech rally, so called because some really came to learn about the technical aspects of RV living. We head off to the main tent one day and come back laden with maps to Alaska, a new campground book, some sticky pads, and a new black water tank digestive. More than you wanted to know.

We headed east Monday, after a stop at the WalMart, (what else) to provision ourselves and Betsy, past a nuclear generating site, to Hwy 85, toward Gila Bend, Ajo and Why, the RV park in Tohono O'oldham res, HickIWan. We pass many military installations, air force and army bases. Why isn't on the GPS so we fumble around and find the casino and a small low-key campground with full hook-ups for $19. per night. Happy to be here with the amenities and do the laundry. And the bonus is the beautiful desert surrounding us. Trails, with hoofprints of horses and burros, the sighting of a coyote, cacti of various kinds, burrows to investigate, make for a delightful walk. We sigh and settle in.

Wednesday we head for a day trip to Organ Pipe National Monument, which is a treat. Lovely area with the rare organ pipe cactus, growing only in this part of the Sonoran Desert, surrounded by the now familiar saguaro, fish hook pinchusion, cholla (some of it teddy bear cholla), ocotillo cacti, and palo verde trees and creosote bushes. The stars at night are clear and bright, the sunsets stunning. It's peaceful and we are at peace.

We've met some wonderful people who share their lives and adaptations to RV living with us; makes us want to cross the country to see them. Those who drive our sort of vehicles seem to be very simpatico with us and our life styles, be it Republican or Democratic, it doesn't seem to matter here where the universe is before us, and the earth is close beneath our feet. We are blessed to love each other and be with others who love the earth and all that our country has to offer. We're glad you are traveling with us.

With love,
Gail and Gene

Monday night, September 20, 2010
Now, Gig Harbor is only an hour or so away from Port Townsend, that cute little town in the edge of the harbor near the ferries. Sunday we were at Point Hudson at the end of Water Street, where they are redoing the marina. Busy place. We're catching up on eating out, with a wonderful brunch at Galatea, paella for one (more like for two) for the Navigator and egg/cheese souffles for the Captain. Eating at 1:00 p.m. meant that was the meal for the day. Why so late? Well, seems we lost all house power as the Captain unhooked from the shore power. Poof, gone. No lights, no water pump, no refrigerator. So no, we're not leaving today. Signed up for another night, went for a walk, decided we'd deal with it Monday when something to fix it would be open. Shore power once again provided everything we needed and with wifi and tv, we're set. The clouds lifted a bit, some pink of sunset showed above, and above that wispy clouds floated by the full moon.

We thought of Kyle Morgan this morning as I watched two boats of paddlers? rowers? as they scooted across the bay in the cold grey drizzy dawn. Kyle's paddling for his school, Mid-Pacific, and kayaking for Lanikai Canoe club in the hot sun on the blue Pacific, which looks like more fun. The cold grey rain and water may actually keep the kids cooler and less sunburned.

Sea Marine, a block away, said they could help us with electrical problems. Two hours later, with the help of their internet search for diagrams of Winnebago's wiring, which apparently is unlike boat wiring, with the converter and main panel under the refrigerator torn apart in the search for the broken connection or blown fuse or whatever, the culprit was located. Between the front seats. In an easily reached compartment labeled Battery Mode, Solenoid and Relays. Who knew? We thought that had to do with the Mercedes engine part of this hybrid, but for some reason this key part of the house power is on the MB chassis. Oh well, $150 later we are now educated.

So three hours later, we're going downtown for Asian noodles at the HanaKanza, which Sus had told us about...closed. Damn. On to the Thai place, and with a walk around the 1893 sandstone Post Office and Custom House and a drive around the wonderful old BIG Victorian homes, we left at 4 p.m. for Gig Harbor. Over the Hood Canal Floating Bridge, looping around Puget Sound and its many inlets, bays, and harbors, through the port of Bremerton, gawking at the half dozen aircraft carriers at Bremerton Naval Base. Commute time... weaving in and out of traffic, on ramps, off ramps, following the gps with the lat/long in to guide us to a safe harbor at Gig Harbor RV. Whew. Made it in time to haul in before the office shut down and dark closed in. Hey, there's some sun and a wonderful sunset. Maybe tomorrow?

Tacoma to Mt. Ranier, Portland and Home

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

The sun shone on lovely Gig Harbor, full of yacts. The community looks like a cross between Carmel and Belvedere with gorgeous homes and gardens, densely placed on steep hillsides, and cute cottages, all shining in the clear blue sky. On to Tacoma, over the Tacoma Narrows Bridge, also known as Gallopin' Gertie because it bucked and twisted and crashed into pieces in a heavy 1940 storm. Today it is a lovely structure, and sound.

Tacoma itself is much bigger than the little bit we saw as we twisted and turned over freeways under construction and around closed streets to get to the Glass Museum. Set in an area of UW buildings and other art museums, on the waterfront and near the Union Station, now a Federal Courthouse, this Chihuly kiln shaped structure has a lovely outdoor clear glass sculpture in a reflecting pool, a wonderful bridge over the roads and tracks below with towers of aqua glass and a ceiling of undersea creations seen from below, while we saw them from above at the exhibit at the deYoung a couple of years ago. And along the side of the bridge were cases displaying individual fantastic glass creations. The gift shop was lovely too, but the museum was closed. The guide book had failed to mention that winter hours meant not open on Mondays or Tuesdays. We could come back tomorrow; Mt. Rainier isn't all that far away, but getting out of Tacoma was harrowing, so we won't return. It was a relief to be on the road for Mt. Ranier National Park.

White River (named for the glacial till I suspect) camp site gave us a partial view of Mt. Ranier which showed signs of clearing. Rose to race the clouds to the top of Sunrise Point at 6400 feet before the clouds closed in. Majestic views at every twist and turn; the road was engineered to give tourists the best sights of this fabulous National Park. Sheer walls of rock (andecite?), slippery earth held in place by tall trees and brush still flowering, nature on the move with tumbling rocks and water, leaves turning bright yellow/orange/red colors. Fifty years ago, when we lived in Seattle, we seldom saw Mt. Ranier, and then only from a distance; now it is right before us, and even closer when we went the last mile or so to the Sunrise Lodge, now closed for the winter.

Interesting how disinterested we are in hiking in the cold dark forest, not one twinge of jealousy when we see people with their walking sticks, boots on, rain jackets slung over backpacks. Happy to sit with a muffin and cup of press pot coffee and cheer them on. The Wonderland Trail circumnavigates the park for 93 miles. Happy travels I say.

Finally I can tell the difference among Red cedar, used by the natives for everything from diapers to rope, Western Hemlock with its drooping tips and tiny cones, and Douglas Fir with upright groups of cones. Vine maple and big leaf maple are turning, fern, moss, skunk cabbage fill hollows Some of these trees are 1,000 years old. Ohanaprecosh visitor Center tells us we are standing on a layer of rock 10,000 feet thick, and that the volcano is somewhere between 28 and 30 million years old. Stevens Canyon road led to Paradise and Longmire taking us to the 'back side' of the mountaiin, which sits in the middle of the park. Paradise Inn, built in 1917, in a fine example of lodge architecture, tall, high ceilinged, yet warm and cozy, with two fireplaces in the old lobby and a beautiful dining room. The parking lot was filled with vans, campers, cars, SUVs, tour buses, hikers, photographers, gawkers (us). The visitor center also filled with people...and this was by noon. Lots of day trippers from Seattle, I suspect. The video showed photos of 'lahar', rivers of rocks, trees, slurry of all kinds rushing down the mountain after an eruption. I imagine the photos were from the Mt. St. Helen eruption in 1980. Lahar is a very scary phenomenon; they say it sounds like a freight train and moves faster.

A marmot posed by the side of the road, near the Reflection Lake. The Captain steered our modern day covered wagon around the hairpin curves and safely landed us at Cougar Rock campground, near Longmire. Longmire supplied firewood for the evening and gave us the chance to drive across a newly created wooded bridge within the complex. Fire making is a skill and Gene is good at it; we had a lovely warm late afternoon outside while Lucy chased her ball through the woods. Even the sounds of screaming 5th graders in the group camp a road away didn't bother us, but was actually pleasant. Highlight of the campground....a Bio Toilet composting wooden building, from Japan, with a Toto toilet inside. Brown water from the cedar chips it uses to compost was a bit of a shock, as was the warm seat. Half the building is the usable half, with hand sanitizer and a squirt bottle of plain water, and the other half is the mechanism, which we don't pretend to understand. Quite a sight in the middle of a national park forest.

Today is a bit of housekeeping, and since it's raining, I think we'll navigate our way on to Mt. St. Helens to see the recovery. We saw the partial recovery several years ago on a road trip with Meredith and Bill, and still have good memories and a photo or two of the four of us camping on the shores of the lake below the mountain. It was 1959, Gail was eight months pregnant with Brian, Meredith had not gone camping before, Bill was gung ho, and Gene had come prepared with a pop up tent and a thermos of martinis. Meredith decided camping was OK.

We're off to check on our mountain, meet the Saverys in Centralia and spend a day or two with them in Portland.

Friday, September 24, 2010
Mt. St. Helens Visitor Center just off I-5 is worth the stop, especially when the web cam shows that going further toward the mountain is futile due to closed-in weather. Pretty impressive video showing the lahar (mudflow) roaring down the north side and the plume of cloud and ash reaching toward the mid-West, hour by hour. 150 square miles of trees were knocked down and carried off. Several people lost their lives, houses inundated and slid down the face, everything roaring down along the slopes, carving new rivers and lakes. Spirit Lake rose 200 feet and two new lakes were created. 1980 is still fresh in the minds of people hereabouts, but as in all things contemporary American, our memories are short when it comes to planning. There are still settlements where a new eruption could reach them. Amazingly, 95% of the flora started back in the first year and many animals hidden below the ground re-emerged.

Centralia has a good little Mexican restaurant just off I-5 where Meredith and Bill landed after escaping the Tacoma traffic; an hour and half after dinner we were in Portland. An errand or two here, a dance program tonight, Farmer's Market tomorrow and a look at the possible condo they are buying on the Willamette River, and we head for home. Only plans for the rest of the trip are one more overnight in a southern Oregon State Park, a walk on the Calatrava Sundial Bridge in Redding, then straight home, arriving Sunday night. A good trip.

Two Ports

Sunday, September 19, 2010

Having wireless access two days in a row must mean we are out of the woods. Port Angeles to Sequim to Port Townsend put us on the seashore and out of the drippy forest; today there may even be sun!

Sequim is a great little town, with only 14-17 inches of rain a year; a quarter of what we get in Nevada City. However, they don't advertise how many days of sun, but we're guessing 20 to 25. No rain today, but cloudy and foggy of course. Nonetheless it's a treat to be in a town with a good local market, Sunny Farms, where we bought among many other goodies a Juan Canary melon. And a Farmer's Market, coffee shop, bookstores, lavender shop. Yep, this area is the Lavender Capital of ??? the US, I guess. Surrounded by lovely lavender farms, there are myriad products available to cook with, bathe in and slather on. The area also has some lovely home developments, a couple of brand name motels, the Red Caboose B&B with several caboose of different bright colors, currently a Glass Art Festival going on...and miles of bike paths, walking paths and horse trails...22 miles to be exact from western edge of Sequim to the Spit. It would be a nice place to live if you didn't mind a little moss; the gardens are lovely with all the moisture.

One of the attractions other than lavender is the Railroad Bridge Park, where the oldest Audubon Society in the US is situated, and a railroad bridge preserved long after there was a railroad here. The area boasts an amazing habitat for birds, fish, and other wildlife. To count: 124 bird species, 22 critters who depend on the local environment, 7 kinds of salmon, or, more correctly, salmonids. And this is just a little picnic park on the edge of the Dungeness River. The Harvest Hosts includes the Purple Haze Lavender Farm where we could have stayed except they are closed during the week this time of year.

Heading for Hoodsport and Olympia, we took a detour to Port Townsend. Now spontaneity is sometimes lacking between the Driver, whom I am now renaming the Captain, and the Passenger, now renamed the Navigator. And confusion can reign when the gps and the maps and the Navigator are at odds. The Captain prefers to keep driving no matter in which direction; getting him to stop and reconnoiter is a major task and only successful when we are hopelessly lost in some out of the way neighborhood nowhere near the Historic Downtown or the uptown Victorians or the Port. We bumbled around grumbling as it was getting to stopping time (we hadn't left Sequim until after 3 p.m.) and finally found our way to the Fort Worden State Park. The signs leading to the campgrounds stopped well short of the destination, leaving us to more bumbling around until finding an open visitor's center. Campground in the trees was above a huge old hangar for blimps (not all wood) in which a local rock band was practicing for their concert that night, expecting as many as 1200 people. Not my idea of a restful night. The oceanside campground was full. The fairgrounds, hosting a quilt show, was an empty soggy grassy field of a campground with a few derelict trailers in it, not really appealing. A second run at the woodsy area at the Fort showed it completely full. By now we are snarling and snapping, with only two more options, one of which is another woodsy grassy Fort outside of town, and the other, portside downtown. Well, the port RV park had lots of appeal, including a short walk to town, a lovely restaurant/bar, a long beach walk, and lots of rvs side by side by side, crammed together for the weekend. One spot left...We cornered the camp host and he allowed as it wasn't really a regular spot, but he named it his emergency spot, it had water and electricity and a view of the ocean. We convinced him this was a true emergency as we were about to kill each other; he took our money and pointed out the way to the bar.

Least favorite things while traveling: signs to a destination you have in mind, only to leave you hanging with no more signs still blocks from where you want to be. Most favorite things: old cars/trucks planted with flowers; a sign on the back of a small rv...Past Tents.

Oregon to Washington

Sunday, September 12, 2010
Several of the great sights on the Oregon Coast are the bridges, built during the 30's in art deco style, of concrete and green steel. There are several as the traveler crosses the many rivers that empty into the Pacific...Pistol, Umpqua, Elk. Smith. And, of course, the dunes. But first, the fish....chowder in Brookings for lunch, fresh coho salmon from a local fish market for dinner. A stop at Fred Meyer's my favorite store in Oregon, an amble up 101 on a beautiful day, over the huge bay at Coos Bay and the south end of the dunes. More dune sightings through forests and along beaches, landing at Honeyman State Park at the north end. Oregon State Parks are terrific with water and electricity hook-ups; this one is huge and well populated even after Labor Day.

Monday, September 13
On to Heceta Light House, seen from below another wonderful bridge, with its nearby B&B. Innumerable creeks and streams run into the ocean, 75 in the Florence area alone, so there are plenty of small beaches and picnic areas. Our walk to one such showed us what 'drift logs' are like. There are warnings and warnings about not walking/sitting on the drift logs as they can turn and take you to the ocean in a heartbeat. They are more like drift trees to me, absolutely huge, and some riddled with holes made by a particular kind of clam that burrows into them.

Yachats, a cute small town, provided coffee and fuel; Newpoert and Lincoln City are big slurbs except for Salishan resort. We crossed the 45th parallel, announced the sign. South of Tillamook, there are miles of dairy land, green pastures, horses, surrounded by forest. Nestucca and Beaver, small towns. And the world's largest wooden structure, it says, one of two that housed blimps doing coastal reconnaisance during WWII. (Where's the spell check when I need it?) Now the one remaining houses an air museum. Cheese was our main stop, of course, Blue Heron French cheese and Tillamook, where we watched the cheese making process. The aged Extra Sharp White is just the best. And Tillamook Bay looked gorgeous in the setting sun. Overnight at Newhalem, another wonder OSP, with a playground for Lucy to chase her ball.

Tuesday, September 14
Breakfast at Wanda's in Newhalem has inspired me to make omelettes with smoked salmon, cream cheese and scallions. Yum yum.
Astoria, on the Washington border, offered Fort Stevens, and Fort Clatsop where Lewis and Clark wintered after 'finding' the Pacific Ocean...a good replica of the log structures where the party of 24 or so lived in the rain. I don't think I've ever crossed into Washington from Astoria before..astounding how huge the mouth of the Columbia River is! A small Hoaquim River spot provided an RV park with a laundry, about time, but no wifi working that day.

Wednesday, September 15
Woke to real rain, what did we expect as we drove on to the Olympic Peninsula? Quinault's old lodge was a wonderful stopping place for coffee, reminding us of the time we spent there years ago on a road trip with friends. It's one of four lodges in the National Forest and National Park managed by a concessionaire. The Hoh rain forest is a perfect environment for Douglas fir (250 feet tall), Western hemlock, Sitka spruce, red alder and red cedar trees, combining an ocean influence with mountain environment. Everything, and I do mean everything, is covered with epiphytes, air plants that live on trees and bushes. The Olympic National Park and forest comprise close to 1 million acres and are 95% wilderness. One of the not-wilderness areas is Sol Duc (I have no idea what THAT means) with a lodge and cabins, but most importantly, hot springs.

Thursday, September 16
Having spent the night in the campground, we arrived bathing suits it hand to check into the springs, just behind 50 college freshmen from Seattle Univ. on a getting-to-know-you trip. Happily, the pools were large and the people watching great. Noticed that several obsese girls didn't go into the pools but stayed in their sweats, but others did. On the whole, not much obesity but lots of cute YOUNG girls and boys. Lunch at the outdoor cafe, noticed leaves turning on the trees, bought sweatshirts, headed for Lake Crescent and Port Angeles. Passed up the Log Cabin Lodge...although we were thinking of staying indoors one night....as there was nothing appealing about a plain wooden structure with no fireplace, and one the lakeside in the rain. Port Angeles provided wonderful coffee, a chat with the barrista about using lavender in cooking, new windshield wipers, and a solution to the problem of why the Passenger's seat won't slide anymore, preventing the Blogger from getting to the laptop which is hidden in the hidey-hole. A Coke bottle cap, courtesy of Lucy, was lodged somewhere in the track and a new body shop guy pulled it out.

Friday, September 16
Chestnut Cottage for breakfast and the best french toast Gene has ever had; he is eternally on the search, and this Creme Brulee French Toast did it. My Dungeness crab omelette with cheese and an apricot walnut scone also got rave reviews, and half saved for tomorrow. We've been to Hurricane Ridge twice before always in the rain and fog, so were reluctant to try it this time, again in the fog and rain. But a stop at the visitor center in Port Angeles showed us the web cam at the top, with a ridge of mountain showing above the fog and below the clouds. And by gosh, that's what we saw after the 18 mile drive up the mountain. Lovely, lovely, and I can only imagine what the scene would show in the sunshine, when and if. On to Sequim (skwim) and the Dungeness Spit, a dinner of cracked crab after a visit to Sunny Farms the most fabulous grocery/nursery...looks like a roadside stand that grew out of all proportion, but stocked like Whole Foods or the Woodland Market. Marvelous, and worth another trip tomorrow.

Saturday, September 17
We're off to the Farmer's Market here in Sequim, to amble a bit on the Spit, see the Railroad Bridge park, and shop for lavender products on the main drag. After we clean up Lucy, mop up the spilled coffee, and toast some of last night's sourdough. Maybe the fog will even lift!

Fall trip to the Northwest 2010

NEVADA CITY TO MT LASSEN NP

SEPT. 7, 2010Tuesday.

You know how some days just don't start right? And don't get much better as the day grinds on? The gardener didn't show up. The frustration of finding that the $1,000 fix on the automatic levelers isn't working properly was only surpassed by Gail spending over an hour trying to upload to the iPod the download from Audible books, with no luck. Which resulted in a very late start and then a trip to the library to get some books on tape for the journey. (Gene maintained his cool through all this and was very supportive...until later.)

And the shakedown of the first few miles didn't go so well either. I hadn't harnessed Lucy, the hood wasn't completely latched, and the drivers in the library parking lot were making the Driver crazy. Eager to get going, he drove off without his seat belt on and had to buckle up while managing our 6 tons of metal, fiberglass, rubber and household.goods. Which drives the Passenger crazy. It doesn't help that the 'jacks down' light came on, Gene's hat slid off the shelf above, boink, and the ear piece on Gail's glasses came loose. We had just reached Highway 20 in Grass Valley.

This east to west highway across our part of Northern California is much improved from its earlier narrow twisted route, but the sight of fresh scorched earth, a cross and flowers testified to its still dangerous nature. The frustrations of the morning and the pushing of cars and trucks behind leads the Driver to go faster than he might, and the Passenger in the second seat to express her terror in bad language. But, reaching Woodruff Lane, we entered a world of little traffic, lush greenery, and harvest machinery waiting near the grain silos for ripening crops. The occasional BUMP sign doesn't do justice to this beat-up road.

Highway 70, south to north between Yuba City and Oroville is a fruit and nut orchard corridor, with truck farms off to the side. Walnut, pistachio, olive, peach, nectarine, apricot, plum and kiwi...then signs for melons, corn, tomatoes, and lots of fruit stands and a roach coach or two. Names on the properties were Italian, Mexican, Mormon (Desert Farms), and others. Mariani drying sheds numbered at least three. There was a tree nursery of several acres . And suddenly we were out of green and into golden fields of baled hay with a second crop growing. Oroville Dam loomed ahead, signs for the casino flashed by, and Red Bluff was next.

Highway 36 heads east out of Red Bluff toward Manton, our destination for the night. Drove Manton Road to the Indian Peak Vineyards on Forward Road where Donna and Fred Boots met us at their wine barn and tasting room. We were their first Harvest Hosts guests, and this was our first www.harvesthosts.com try at dry camping on private property. The Boots were most gracious and over several tastes of wine they had made, from their own and neighbors grapes, we heard their story. And bought three bottles of wine, which they insisted we didn't have to do, but after 'tasting' the equivalent of a glass or two apiece, we decided it was a good idea. These grandparents and entrepeneurs have spent the last 7 years planting growing harvesting and wine making, while living in a small trailer next to the wine barn. Sold their Cottonwood home at the peak of the market, retired from their jobs, quit commuting, and settled in to work their buns off. Very good wine, by the way.

SAVE THE EARTH...IT'S THE ONLY PLANET THAT MAKES WINE

Wednesday. What do you know, it's raining! Woke to a downpour, but soldiered on over small country roads ever climbing to Shingletown (Hwy 44), past the Wild Horse Sanctuary, and Mt. Lassen National Park. Not a local rain this, reports from all over northern Northern California were the same. So there goes our plan to drive slowly and hike through Lassen. I mean it's pouring. As the ranger said, the mountain makes its own weather. Ah well, time to catch up from the rigors of packing and leaving, take the day off and read Sunday's paper. Settled down in an almost empty campground, levelers working OK now, and then discovered we were almost out of propane....which fuels the stove, the furnace, the hot water heater, the refrigerator. Bolted for the nearby store....no propane. Back to Shingletown, down the highway about 15 miles, and returned, mission accomplished. Still pouring. Good DVD, good wine, nice supper, warm and cozy.

Thursday. The plan is to drive, hike, picnic our way through this lovely park from the NW corner to the SW corner, and head for the coastal redwoods. Our ancient Interagency Senior Pass leaves us feeling a bit guilty for free admittance to all national parks and half price dry camping to boot, but then, we pay taxes, don't we?

　Thursday con't. No rain! A late start on the drive/hike through Lassen, and on the first part of the drive we heard a mysterious thumping and bumping from underneath the kitchen. Although the Driver spread a blanket and crawled under Betsy by the side of the road, no reason for mysterious sound could be found. So on to Bumpass Hell overlook. Well done signs explained Mt. Tehama, a huge volcano, imploded eons ago, leaving a ring of mountain peaks surrounding the caldera in which we stood....Mt. Conrad, Brokeoff Mountain, etc. It looked daunting from where we stood, but the guide book said the 1.5 mile hike (3 mi. RT) was moderate, so off we went over rocky narrow trails on the edge of the caldera with views of forests below and beyond, peaks and valleys in the far distance. A small gain in elevation over the rocky scramble, then a sharp drop down into the steaming pools of sulfurous (read, stinky) and noisy fumeroles and boiling mud pots. The boardwalk kept us from straying into dangerous ground. Poor Kendall VanHook Bumpass lost his dream of turning this area into a tourist attraction in the mid-19th c, along with the leg that fell through the crust into the boiling liquid below. Plenty of people on the trail, although I thought it was cold, in the mid 50's. And surprisingly, lupine still in bloom on the sunny slopes. Huffed and puffed our way back out and felt good about our 1.5 hour excursion until we met a group who had already climbed Mt. Lassen and were going to amble to Bumpass Hell. Oh, well, we're old.

Mineral is the tiny town at the SW entrance to Mt. Lassen Volcanic NP, and we spent our third night of dry camping nearby at Battle Creek NFS campground. The Driver prefers hookups but is clever enough to bring a 'water thief' so we can put water directly into Betsy via our hose and this gadget, which keeps coming off the faucet-with-no-threads and dowsing the 'thief'. Another frosty night makes me glad to be in the woods in a fiberglass box with a furnace and not in a tent or a dreary freeway motel. For entertainment there are always other campers....the elderly couple (by that I mean even older than we are) riding around the campground loop on their fold-up bikes, the campground host(ess) dressed for work leaving at 8 a.m., men with long grey beards and cammies (the sign did say Hunters Welcome on a dreary rv park nearby), the squirrels carrying bright green moss for their winter nests, bird calls, tall trees.

Friday Sept. 10 In under an hour, we dropped 4000 feet in elevation and rose 25 degrees in temperature as Highway 36 took us into Red Bluff for emptying and filling. It's a very mild 75-80 degrees in this normally blistering part of the upper Sacramento Valley. The 'downtown' is somewhat threadbare; all the new shops are on the outskirts in the shopping centers with the big box stores you would expect, plus eateries and entertainment. Crossing both I 5 and the wide and beautiful Sacramento River, we chose Hiway 36 to the coast. The scenery along this route is why California is called green and golden, with dry grass hills, pastures and green trees and bushes. Add pines, manzanita, oaks, berry bushes and cottonwoods and you can see where the water flows. In the middle of nowhere is the R Ranch, with a store, an R Ranch RV lot, the R Wild Horse Ranch, and a few other enterprises. Evidence of a long ago forest fire travels alongside for miles and miles. Then the appearance of Digger Pines tells us we are at about 1,500 to 2,000 feet elevation as we climb and twist our way up the Coast Range. Higher elevations bring taller trees; signs point to Hayfork and Rat Trap Gap, both of which intrigue but don't take us off course. Roads have numbers, not names. The Traveling Wilburys and Bonnie Raitt provide background music. At Mad River there are increasing signs of habitation..farms, church, fire department, grazing horses, abandoned logging sites, trailer park and an air strip with a single orange wind sock. Past Dinsmore miles of narrow, bumpy, winding road with no center line, steep drops on the Passenger side, and at one blind curve, a semi coming the other way in the deep and towering forest. Time for this more than 100 mile trek to end! Brake check areas make me nervous especially when followed by a 10% grade sign and the heart-stopping twisting drop and 10 mph curves. After hours of this, Hwy 36 has begun to lose its charm. But the road levels a bit, shoulders and a center line reappear. Mellowed out with Stan Getz and Joao Gilberto we finally drop down at Hydesville into a lush agricultural valley, just before Hwy. 101, over the Eel River, past a thriving lumber mill at Scotia, on our way to Weott and the Humboldt Redwood State Park. I won't bore you with the details of landing for the night, but just know we went 14 miles out of our way searching for the campground, and once there discovered we had left the windshield privacy cover at last night's camp. And the fees for camping at CA state parks are now $45.00. Oh well. No more guilt feelings about not paying enough.

Saturday Sept. 11 The rumble strip on Hwy 101 N took our front right hub cap and although the Driver was good enough to turn around (twice) and we found two hubcaps, neither was ours. Now we have two left. Before the bad start to the day, we walked through magnificient Coast Redwoods, grove after grove named for major donors, mile after mile. Walked to the Giant Tree, the Flat Iron Tree, whose fallen oval trunk sections in places measures 7.5 feet high by 17. feet wide.

Scotia's lumber mill company town houses look well cared for. Lovely weather up the coast past Fortuna and the Ferndale turn-off, before the fog started. Through Eureka (no freeway bypass for this town) where the fog lifted, and 10 miles further descended again. The Scenic Byway took us through more magnificient redwood groves, past the Elk preserve, with warnings about how big they are and how fast they can run...35 mph. There are hundreds of REALLY BIG TREES, deep groves of tall redwoods, mile after mile. Sunlight filtered through and illuminated the trees and their understory of fern and dogwood...beautiful

A fuel and coffee stop in Klamath at the Yurok Tribe Fuel Mart Pem Mey, where discounts are only for tribe members. The young man behind the counter said folks around there think 9/11 was all a lie. Yep. Do those people vote? Crescent City seems a bit more sophisticated although the WalMart doesn't have a copy machine because people kept breaking it. Honest. Trying to find fresh salmon but the local stores don't carry it and the dock isn't open. Salmon season ends Wednesday, so we're hoping maybe in Oregon? And the Tsunami Area signs don't frighten us, but they are a little disconcerting. Cool campground on the edge of town, Village Camper Inn, private, quiet, wooded, with all the hook-ups necessary at half the price of the State Park.

Hard to imagine that we are so caught up in the mundane, after watching the History channel last night and seeing the archive of videos from 9/11. The flags at half mast all day reminded us of the horror of 9 years ago...and the heroism.

Sunday is Oregon.
　

Basin and Range

We have been between mountain ranges for days, in deserts, high and low, and valleys narrow and broad. The basins and ranges of this part of the world are amazing, explained in visitor centers of several national parks (what a treasure they are!). I can hardly wait another million years or so to see how it all folds out.

We left Benson AZ after spending the evening with Barbara and Kent from Prescott AZ. We don't socialize much on these jaunts, but the burning-all-night-light from their Airstream drew us into conversation, like "would you mind turning off that light!" Turns out they were great people, amateur astronomer, consulting engineer, book restorer, volunteer. Also talked to Marty from Sequim and Rita from Carmel, traveling in their Sprinter and Roadtrek to Mississippi to bury their mom's ashes. Presumably mom didn't need anyplace special to sleep.

Kartchner Cavers State Park offered an above ground caving experience, with 'straws' in addition to the usual stalagmites and ...tites, plus a lot of water on the (non-slip) floor. Enough caves already.

Sights and Sounds: Silence of the caves, howl of wind, Traveling Wilburys and Bonnie Raitt on the IPod, whine of the diesel engine, thump of rough road, train whistles, bird song. Blooming cactus, ocotillo, barrel, prickly pear, saguro. Tow alongs...cars, sedans, SUVs, jeeps, Smartcars, 2 and 3 wheel motor cycles. Crosses and flowers marking long ago accident sites. Beige, terra cotta and brown stucco tracts with tile roofs and sound walls along freeways. High rises of sawtooth mountains out of deserts. Lucy's ears sticking straight out with static electricity. And Lucy running off her leash after a squirrel through the stickery bushes, requiring me to cut off the hair below her ears making her look much younger. Wonder if that would work for us.

Tales: High winds took us off main roads to Bisbee and Benson. Blew others off highways, a class A on its top, a semi on its side, both south of Flagstaff. Drivers with sore wrists from trying to stay on the road, frustration of going head to head with the wind. Best rv park in Tucson is Voyager. Horrible sun burns from one hour water aerobics in the pool; that got me out quick!

May 14, 2010 Gilbert Ray near Saguro National Park, a Pima county park provided a shelter over two tables, electricity, a water source nearby, views of all kinds of cacti, birdsong and mountain views. At the Arizona Sonoran Desert Museum, which is absolutely wonderful, we saw cacti (ocotillo, barrel, prickly pear, teddy bear cholla, jumping cholla, saguro, which blooms at 40-50 years old, and grows arms at 60-70 years old, lives to be 200, agave, yucca, soaproot yucca), bushes and trees (palo verde, creosote, mesquite (whose beans from the seed pods ground up taste like cinnamon sugar), creeper, jojoba, madrone. The animals in a show included coati, the military macaw, pelican, hooded skunk, ringtail. Saw lots of birds, but no road runner in sight. Enclosed natural environments contained bear, Arizona gray wolf, deer, ocelot, mountain lion, which the docent called panther, and desert turtle.

Decided to try Voyager RV park as a change from the desert. We were told it was the best in Tucson...big mistake! Asphalt and concrete lot designed to hold 1500+ rvs during the winter, now mostly empty. But the bar and restaurant were open and sad places they were too. Back to the desert!!!!

A trip to Kitt Peak National Observatory and National Solar Observatory, funded by NSF and operated by National Optical Astronomers Observatory. Celebrating 50 years of operation, Kitt Peak is the world's largest collection of research telescopes, with 25 optical and 2 radio telescopes on 200 acres of Tohono O'oldham land. We toured the 4meter Mayall telescope where the astronomers look at computer screens on the side at its base. New NOAO sites are being developed in Chile and on Haleakela to do complete surveillance every three days sof the southern and northern hemispheres skies respectively, to look for incoming.

Tucson has light ordinances to prevent illuminations upward and although only 75 minutes away from Kitt Peak, its lights don't interfere with observations, despite having increased population many fold over the last 50 years. Phoenix has no such regulations so in 50 years at the present rate of growth, KP will be unusable due to its light pollution.

From the campground at Gilbert Ray we went to Saguro NP, a short drive. A bumpy dirty drive over 9 mile Bajada Loop road and several short hikes took us to desert plants and petroglyphs of the Hohokam, thousands of years ago. A unique view of the desert 'back country' as much as we can get in a slowly moving vehicle and short hikes at 95 degrees F.

After a siesta in camp we headed over the mountains on Gates Pass Road to old town Tucson, artisans villa, and dinner at El Charro. Most of the way to town, Gene discovered we were trailing a flapping electric cord. OOoops! Having plugged in during nap time to run the air conditioner, we neglected to unplug as we drove away to town. Good for a chuckle and actually no harm done. Coming on the heels of driving off with the outside steps still out and knocking over a red cone in the process, with people signaling 'your step is out!' and tearing off the step covers, we decided we'd better shape up before we pulled out. A spectacular sunset ended the day.

On Monday May 17 we had a late start toward Blythe, going over Gates Pass Road again, past the beautiful homes there and across the windy interstate drive through the desert back to California. At Mayflower County Park we camped by the Colorado River, bringing water to the irrigation ditches criss-crossing sandy fields, feeding the alfalfa crop.

I didn't remember having been to Joshua Tree National Park before, so the yellow blooms, green plants, brittlebush, desert gold and purple asters at this time of year were wonderful. New were the smoke trees, dune primroses, purple verbena, missing was the prickly pear. The Joshua trees, actually yuccas, were so-named by the Mormons in the mid 19th century. In the Colorado desert part of the park, there is cactus; in the Mojave desert park, higher and cooler, the Joshua trees bloom and cluster among the huge boulders. At about 4300 elevation, Keys View looks over the Salton Sea to Mexico, past Palm Springs and San Jacinto mountain to the tallest mountain in southern California, San Gorgiono (sp?) at 11,000 feet. Wow.

Not having stayed in Barstow before, my impression being not that favorable, we were happy to take advice to stop at a county park. The Calico Ghost Town just outside had a nice if dusty camp. Noticed a sign for a solar generating plant, but we couldn't find it. There are two major Marine Corps logistics bases nearby, at Yermo and Lenwood, supplying sales tax revenue and civilian jobs, explaining why Barstow looks so much more upscale than we had anticipated.

We needed to find the California Welcome Center to get current info on going into Sequoia Kings Canyon NPs from the east side (can't do it) and found it in the middle of an outlet mall in Barstow. what? why? Situated in the customer service center of the mall was a knowledgable staffer with lots of maps and info, explaining to a Japanese couple that she had no maps of the Grand Canyon because it isn't in California, which they were having a hard time understanding. Noticed lots of Japanese couples, then people from India in saris, China, other Asian nations, and heard several European languages being spoken. What was going on? Turns out the parking lot held a dozen or so tour buses with the Tanger Outlets as their destination. Huh? Explained to me that the people were from everywhere and we were in the middle of everywhere,2 hours from LA and 2 hours from Las Vegas, and shopping at these prices was a major tourist attraction.

Back to the highway and off through yet another desert, this one not as interesting as the others. Borax mining and processing, Edwards AFB, major wind farms over the Tehachapis (and major wind), down into the brown hills of the already scorched southern central valley. But water soon took over and we were in the midst of retangular fields of alfalfa, citrus orchards, vineyards and row crops, with grasshoppers pumping oil. The terrain changed dramatically outside of Porterville and past Exeter as we drove highways 65 and 198 toward the parks. Through Three Rivers, a town spread out over the highway and along the Kaweah river, over a 1922 bridge named Pumpkin Hollow, past a Corps of Engineers dam and recreation area, and into Sequoia NP with suddenly blooming yucca (century plants) thrusting up the hillsides. Also hugging the mountainous terrain were oaks and deciduous trees and bushes, with more wildflowers at their feet. A stunning sight in front of peaks capped with snow. At every turn we were struck with the beauty of this entrance; could there be more to come?

Potwisha camp at 2000+ feet was our second choice of camps, but as there was snow on the ground at Lodgepole (6700 feet) and building cumulus clouds in the sky ahead, we pulled into this simple camp, our first without electricity. California seems to be the only state without electricity to the campsites in our state and county parks. Guess this park is managed by the National Forest Service, which is usually dry camping. The evening was cool and pleasant; our fellow campers were a school group from Sanger, several families on vacation, and a couple car camping their way west from Virginia, brave souls.

The Giant Forest is indeed a forest of giant sequoias, which are significantly different from coastal redwoods, and impressively dense and awesome. Even at 10:30 a.m. the parking lot near the General Sherman tree was filled with rvs and cars jockeying for enough time in a parking place to take the short walk to gape at the largest tree in the world. Really. It's 2200 years old, impressive on the face of it, and truly immense. These shallow rooted behemoths die when they topple over in high winds or from other causes, but they are resistant to insect infestations and other diseases.

The drive on General Highway from 2000 feet to summits at 7000 and 7300 feet is jaw dropping. A twisting, turning road, not recommended for anything over 22 feet (we are 24 and our driver is excellent), leads higher and higher through rocky mountains along a rushing river through wildflowers, yucca, conifers beginning about 5000 feet, road construction, and to closed campgrounds and open Lodgepole Visitor Center, campground (snow covered) and then down through increasing clouds to Kings Canyon NP and its General Grant grove. The Kings Canyon Visitor Center was populated with European visitors arriving by tour bus; apparently they can come up from the Fresno entrance without the twists and turns of the more southerly route. We didn't linger.

Out of the park with the promise that we would plan another trip, probably in September, to spend more time and do some hiking; it is absolutely beautiful. We rolled down into the oak woodlands and golden grassy hills, looking down on more citrus and stone fruit orchards, vineyards and row crops to the San Joaquin valley and our last stop along I 5 on our way home.