November 5 to 8 2014 Sunset Bay State Park

Current Location: Sunset Bay Oregon: clear skies and 43 degrees F at 7am

I know I promised more on the wedding, but that will just have to wait a bit.  We are camped on the Oregon Coast, and it is time to write about what is happening right now.

When November rolls around, our thoughts often turn to the Oregon Coast.  With an unwritten rule that we get out in the MoHo at least once each month, a trip to the coast is easy.  A quick jaunt over the mountain to visit the cottage in Grants Pass, do a few little cottage chores, and then we are close enough to be at the ocean in a couple of hours.

This time of year, weather on the Oregon coast can be anything from balmy sunshine to driving rain and wind with everything in between.  About the only thing I didn’t pack for this trip was shorts.  Not long ago I succumbed to Laurie’s (Laurie and Odel from Semi True Tales of our Life on the Road) inspiration and bought a tiny little pink thingy, the Fit Bit.  I have committed to the 10,000 steps a day routine that is supposedly the key to staying reasonably fit.

Knowing that it could be wet and cold for my daily hikes, I brought an extra bin full of coats and poly fleece stuff that hopefully would keep me warm.  One thing about camping in a motorhome in a lovely state park nowhere near a laundry is the wet stuff draped all around the rig in an attempt to dry it out a bit.

But I am getting ahead of myself.

As long time readers know, our park of choice is often Harris Beach State Park.  It is the closest to Grants Pass, and we love so many things about staying there.  Sometimes driving up the coast we have checked out other parks and thought, “Oh, let’s try this one someday”, but nope…back to Harris Beach we go.  It has cable TV, good wifi and cell phone reception, a gorgeous walking beach, and is just minutes from town and shopping.

However, this time we had to come up with an alternative.  Harris Beach State Park is temporarily closed for a few weeks while they repave the park roads.  We looked at our maps and at last made plans to camp at a park we have long eyed, Humbug Mountain State Park, just south of Port Orford.  We then thought it would be nice to get to the coast a different way, and decided to drive north to Roseburg, travel west along Highway 42 toward Coos Bay, and camp once again at Sunset Bay State Park for a few days before continuing south to Humbug Mountain.

Neither of us could remember when we camped at Sunset Beach, but we both remembered the scary waves when we kayaked the bay! A quick review of the blog revealed that our last trip here was back in 2009, when I still lived in California.  I traveled north for a visit in July and we spent three days here before traveling east along the Umpqua River for some waterfall hikes.  Definitely a good thing I write the blog or we would have had no clue when we were last here.

I did notice that my blog writing style has definitely shifted.  So many details of that visit were omitted on the previous blog post, including our space number, and all I know for sure is that we had a full hookup site. With a bit of sleuthing, I did find a photo of our site number, A-10.

Sunset Beach lists an RV dump in the brochure amenities, but what they don’t say is that the dump is miles south at Bullard Beach State Park!  In spite of the on site sewer, they also ask that you don’t actually dump in that spot due to possible overflow.  Excuse me?  Why pay for a sewer site if they don’t want you to use it?  Makes no sense to me.

Last Wednesday afternoon, the skies were bright and sunny as we settled into our spot on the A loop.  The park was very nearly empty, and we had our choice of several sites.  I got out the compass and searched for an opening in the southern skies, thinking we had it nailed for the satellite.  We settled in to A-24, hooked up all the goodies and started up the satellite finder.  No go.  With not much else to do on this quiet afternoon, we decided to move a couple of sites down to see if we could get a better signal.

No laughing here!  With three days planned in predicted 100 percent rain, and no internet, TV would be a nice diversion, and was definitely worth the move! Before long we were settled once again, this time in A-28, with a clear view of the southern skies and no trees at that critical 145 degree angle where the satellites hide.  Perfect.

One of the nicest things about this park are the trails.  There are over 12 miles of developed trails, including portions of the Oregon Coast Trail that lead south toward Shore Acres State park and then beyond toward Cape Arago State Park, both day use areas without camping.

That afternoon, with the fitbit logging steps, and the GPS app on the phone logging time, Mo and I set off south for a hike toward Shore Acres. The map for the trails is less than optimal, and with no cell signal we had no clue how far we traveled. I kept thinking we should have arrived at the park, but after an hour and a half, we decided to turn around.  It was getting late and with more than my 10,000 steps logged, I decided that the park destination could wait till the next day.

All night long we were serenaded by heavy rain, just as predicted, and we spent a lovely morning with a full breakfast, coffee, and the news, while I wrote some more on the Vermont visit for the blog.  Mo read and I sewed bindings on quilts for a time and then finally I decided it was time to brave the rain and get in those steps. It is amazing how that little pink thing keeps one motivated.

My raincoat turned out to be less than optimal and it was soaking wet on the inside when I returned, along with my clothes which were soaking wet from the inside.  Geez…all that walking in all that humidity really makes things wet everywhere, inside and out. 

As the afternoon cleared, Mo and I took off with the car and our camp receipt so that we could park at Shore Acres State Park without paying the $5. fee.  We enjoyed the beautiful gardens on our last visit, but this time we wanted to hike the Oregon Coast Trail from Shore Acres to the viewpoint at Cape Arago. 

Again, the maps are less than optimal, and the trails are not well marked.  Instead of staying on the main trail, we found ourselves on the Group Site trail, which follows the deep gorges and hills east of the Cape Arago Road.  In addition to the steps, we got a good deal of steep ups and downs before arriving at the nearly empty Cape Arago park. 

The viewpoint is magnificent, overlooking the ocean and wild surf directly below and views for miles to the north and to the south. 

The hike home was a bit more simple, since we chose to follow the trail directly adjacent to the road and skipped all the ups and downs of the group trail. I haven’t had any trouble getting in my 10,000 steps per day, and more often than not on this trip, I seem to be going over 15,000 per day.  I plan to keep up the pace, and hopefully the coming winter weather at home won’t stop me. Motion X GPS app on my phone had a hard time finding the signal on the hike, since we didn’t have cell service, but when I arrived tonight in an area with internet, I could see our path on google maps.  Good job, iPhone!

Ready for an early afternoon supper, we decided to return three miles to Charleston and search out a restaurant to have something fishy.  There are several small restaurants in town, including one that we tried on our previous visit that was excellent, and another one that I tried many years ago with another friend.  Wanting something new, we settled on the High Tides Cafe, right on the main road on the west side of South Slough.

While a bit spendy, it was a great choice, with tables overlooking the slough, a delightful waiter who gave excellent service, and very good food.  I had the special Cajun Tuna steaks with some kind of risotto garnished with tomato and avocado. Mo also had tuna, fish and chips, but she had the option to pick a lightly breaded and grilled style rather than the heavy beer battered fish that can sometimes be so greasy.  Both of our meals were perfect, and when our waiter brought out the dessert tray we couldn’t resist the amazing pumpkin nutty pie topped with whipped cream to share with our coffee.  Yum!

Friday morning dawned clear and bright as predicted, not a cloud in the sky.  Even with the clear skies, however,  things were pretty damp, including all my clothes hanging about the rig.

After a relaxing morning, I decided to attempt to find the trail from here to Shore Acres and then to backtrack and find out where Mo and I turned around.  I succeeded in finding the easy trail to Shore Acres, but skipped the long way out on the bluffs and returned via the simple trail to camp.

Later in the afternoon, Mo and I took off walking north toward the Bay, and searched for a trail on the northern bluff that would allow a better view of the Cape Arago Lighthouse.  The trail was very nearly vertical, and darn slippery with all the previous rain, but we managed to get to the top.  Once there, however, the trail leveled off, and the going got a bit crazy, with a jungle of thick salal and other vegetation making the narrow trail a bit difficult to navigate.

Finally emerging from the forest into a large grassy area, we saw the lovely lighthouse against the sky.  The building is on an island, and we could see old bridge abutments below the bluff, where once it may have been possible to get to the island.  In the late afternoon sun, the view was beautiful.

Returning along the grassy area, we discovered a chained off area that contained gravestone, and then another memorial stating that we were in a Native American cemetery.  UhOh.  Then as we returned toward the forest, we discovered the “No Trespassing” sign.  Hmmm.  Remembering that I had read somewhere that this lighthouse was now owned and operated by the local tribes, I realized that we were probably somewhere we were not supposed to be.

As we walked out the main entrance road, we came to a locked gate, and we were on the wrong side!  Ok then…back into the woods, searching through the brush to find a trail and get past the gate, we finally wound our way around to a small trail that led us out to the main highway.

I guess seeing the Cape Arago lighthouse from this viewpoint isn’t something that can be done without some kind of special permission.  Be aware that if you hike up from Sunset Bay through the brush, you will have no way of knowing that you are in a restricted area. Here is a link to the history of this beautiful light on what is called Chiefs Island.

Last night we had supper at our picnic table, enjoying the big hot fire that Mo built with wood we brought from home.  The parks often have firewood available, but it is often not very dry and hard to burn.  Since we didn’t have to enter California on this trip to the coast, we were able to bring our own nicely dried and split firewood.

Today again we have sunshine, and our plans will take us south along the Seven Devils Road toward Bandon, where we plan to camp at Bullard Beach and spend an afternoon searching out delicacies, including Face Rock cheese and little pots of hot drinking chocolate.

 

Abby

Vermont Part 3

Current Location: Oregon Coast Sunset Bay State Park
It is still dark out, but after slipping into the cozy MoHo bed at 7 pm last night, I can’t sleep another minute.  Outside temps are a mild 61 degrees, but I have a feeling it is cloudy and the wind is blowing in gusts and bursts.  Here at Sunset Bay we have no internet and no phone, something I expected, but a fact that still takes a bit of adjustment.  I can’t check the weather other than sticking my nose outside to get a sense of what the coming day might be like.
I also have no idea when this post will actually get up to the internet, but thought it might be a good idea to at least write it before I have another big backlog of Oregon Coast camping to write about. While I was traipsing about the east coast, Mo was home, and she was definitely ready for a MoHo trip.  This time of year, the coast seems to be the place where we are drawn, with no expectations of anything but windy, possibly rainy weather.  Rain in Rocky Point is cold and can get snowy in November.  Rain on the coast doesn’t often include snow, and has the added benefit of wild surf. 
Time to slip back to my week in Vermont before I completely forget the details.  Thank goodness for photos.
Wednesday in Vermont was to be simple, with a beautiful morning walk up the hills above Dorset to the orchard and then some explorations around the area.  Several guests were scheduled to arrive this evening, and Jeanne and Alan were attending to pre-wedding tasks.  In addition, they have another big project that needed a bit of attention, and Jeanne wanted me to see the site where the two of them are building their own home.
When we were up in the airplane on Monday, they pointed the location out to me, high on the hills overlooking the valley below.  The house on Alan’s property was first built on in the early 1700’s, when it was a tavern.  The two of them wanted so much to keep the building somewhat intact, but it was an impossible task with mold and other issues to contend with.
Instead, Jeanne’s task for the day was to flag the items they wanted to save from demolition.  I loved seeing the old house, the old barn, and especially the hand forged square nails and hand hewn beams.  The new house will be a timber frame, and they are going to incorporate the beams and some of the existing stones into the design.
Can you imagine living in these Vermont mountains with a view like this?  I was told the house will have a walk-out lower level that will be guest quarters, and I do hope I can get back again to visit and see the place when it is completed.
In addition to the gorgeous view, the house has its very own swimming pond.  I have never seen a pond quite like this one, absolutely crystal clear.  With a diving board. 
Jeanne and Alan are excited about having their own home that is truly “theirs”, not one that was “hers” or “his”.  Alan laughed with me about the old adage that building a house can break up a marriage, saying that the two of them are having a great time making the decisions and choices together and enjoying every minute of the process.
With two people who love the natural world, I know that the home will be a treasure of local wood and stone, and that it will be filled with art from all over the world from their joint and separate travels.  Exciting!
I took some time that afternoon to explore on my own a bit, driving north to Lake St. Catherine to see if I could find the old Kinne Kinnic Camp on the northern shores of the lake. In the early 60’s, when Mo was teaching in China Lake, she decided to apply for a summer coaching job in Vermont. 
The camp was one of those tony places where wealthy folks send their kids while they travel in Europe.  Mo had quite the summer teaching smartie-pants rich girls how to play tennis.  As a born west coast, rather adventurous and outdoorsy young woman, I can only imagine what a culture shock that whole experience might have been.  The telling part is that she only did it once.
The original camp is no longer there, but an internet search turned up alumni including Joan Rivers among others.  I found an original sign at the entrance to what is now a private housing development, and even with the photos, Mo couldn’t remember for sure which ones were part of her camp.
The major acreage of the original camp is now Lake Catherine State Park.  With the season over and the park closed, I parked outside the gates and spent a couple of hours wandering the grounds and taking photos.  I had the entire place to myself, without another soul around.
It is a beautiful park, with some very nice RV campsites, (no hookups), an easy place to launch kayaks, and trails for bike riding.  I took photos of the best campsites, and of the original buildings, hoping that Mo might recognize some of them.  The buildings were obviously much older than the state park, and I could only assume that they were from the original Camp Kinne Kinnic.
Jeanne had warned me repeatedly about the typical fall outbreak of ticks in this part of Vermont, so I was careful to stay out of the brush.  Still, I did walk through some tall grass, and sure enough I looked down  and saw a creepy crawling on my pants leg.  I checked carefully for ticks that night, but not carefully enough.
The next  morning, while taking my shower I was surprised to find a mole on my side that hadn’t been there the day before.  Ack!  I would imagine that little bugger was on my clothes and when I went to bed he found his way to my warm body.  Ick.  I called Jeanne and she said I needed to get to the emergency immediately to get it removed and that there was a high incidence of lyme disease in the area.  Ack again. 
Walking up to the house to see what I could do and where I could go, I was greeted by comments, “Russell can probably help you”.  Are you kidding me?  was my first response.  Russell had arrived the previous evening, a very attractive worldly guy with a great sense of humor, a new house in Greece, and a big box of baklava that he carried for 18 hours on the plane to share with all of us.  I had completely forgotten that Russell was also an ER doctor.  It didn’t take him long to get the tick out from a rather sensitive area, and he assured me that lyme disease was probably not a problem since the tick hadn’t been embedded for even 12 hours.  whew.  No antibiotics were needed, and the dreaded rash and bullseye ring never appeared.
The next few days before the wedding were filled with people arriving, including Eve, from my very own town of Klamath Falls.  Eve is an attorney in town and was one of Jeanne’s great running friends.  My other housemates, Tei an Cecil, who live in the previously mentioned village of Waitsfield, also arrived.
I had heard of Tei for years, knowing that she and Jeanne had been friends even before birth, as their mothers were friends when they were pregnant with each of them. Tei was even more delightful than I imagined, a tiny, athletic woman with huge talent and kindness. 
As the wedding drew closer, we especially enjoyed the special meet and greet evening at Alan’s house, where once again his master chef style came into play, and we had a Mexican feast worthy of royalty. Drinking, fun and laughter ensued as we all listened and told stories about Jeanne and Alan and their adventures.
The next day, Jeanne wanted to show Eve and I more of the beautiful countryside.  Even in the rain and clouds the colors were gorgeous, and seeing two more historic covered bridges not far from Dorset was wonderful. 
I also took some time to visit the nearby town of Manchester with another guest.  Ellen had arrived from Key West and was staying at the Dorset Inn.  We spent a beautiful rainy morning exploring the lovely New England town with great shops, a gorgeous gallery, and a fabulous yarn shop, Yarns for Your Soul.  The only thing that kept me from buying skeins and skeins of hand dyed wool yarn was the thought that I would have to pay all those sales taxes and then try to fit it in my luggage.  I did buy enough to make a couple of cute ski hats however, yummy stuff.
Ellen and I had lunch at the local independent bookstore, Northshire Bookstore, a wonderful place with real books, real food, and great cappuccino.  Ellen is another treasure.  She and Jeanne met by chance on some world trip where they were assigned as roommates, and have traveled together since that time to many exotic world locations.  I have heard Ellen stories for years as well, and was so happy that I finally got to meet her in person.
It is from this point, however, that the photos of my visit deteriorate completely.  I fell asleep the previous night with my camera on the bed.  I had been looking at the photos I had taken, and somehow didn’t put the camera away properly.  Sure enough, in the middle of the night, I heard a thump.
UhOh.  It wasn’t a long drop, and the hardwood floors weren’t that hard, but it was enough that the camera no longer worked.  I had no time to find a repair place, so the rest of the week my photos came from the iPhone.  I know that everyone seems to think iPhone photos are fine, but they don’t do that great in low light situations indoors at night, or in a church, or at a wedding.
Lucky for me, once I returned home and took the camera to the shop, the only problem was that the mirror was stuck.  I had tried dropping and lifting the mirror, but evidently hadn’t tried enough.  The camera person had the camera working in minutes.  Whew!
Next:  I know I keep saying it, but this time really:  Wedding Rehearsal, Rehearsal Dinner, Wedding, and Reception!

Vermont in October Part 2

Current Location: Rocky Point, Oregon: 40 degrees F and partly cloudy at midday

Somehow Jeanne and Alan were calm and collected as the wedding day drew closer.  Everything was well planned and on schedule, and with a few more days before guests and relatives were to arrive, Jeanne had no qualms about leaving town for a couple of days to take me on a driving tour.  Alan joked that Jeanne had given him a 26 page list of “things to do when Sue gets here”.  With smiles and hugs of encouragement, he sent us off to play at “the lake”, and to explore some of the hidden gems of Vermont that Jeanne wanted to share with me.

There is nothing quite as delightful as having your very own personal tour guide with an intimate knowledge of the countryside.  Jeanne drove and I simply sat back with no agenda except for oohing and aahing as we passed through the countryside.  Our first goal was Alan’s family place “The Lake Lodge” on the Vermont side of Lake Champlain, where we planned to spend the night. 

Our route took us a couple of hours north toward the southern end of the lake where Jeanne decided that I should see the famous Lake Champlain bridge.  What a beauty!  The visitor center was open, and with this being a holiday (Columbus Day), even on this cloudy, somewhat blustery day, it was rather crowded.  The original bridge had to be rebuilt in 2010, and the new bridge echoes the shape of the old bridge beautifully. 

This area is thick with historical significance, with many forts and sites of pre Revolutionary War events.  Across the bridge, on the New York side, we found the ruins of the French Fort St Frederic, built in 1734.  There wasn’t much left to see, with the ruins buried by time and by the coming of the British, who occupied Crown Point in 1759 and began constructing one of the largest forts they would ever build in North America. 

Here the wooden and earth fortified walls were still somewhat visible, with the ruins of the stone barracks and officer’s quarters still standing.  Even though she lived nearby, Jeanne had never explored this area and we thoroughly enjoyed wandering around the walls and ruins without benefit of the little tour guide to describe what we were seeing.  Neither one of us felt like paying the fee to go into the museum to buy the guide.  We had other goals in mind for the day.

After leaving the forts, we didn’t dally much along the way, hoping to arrive and check out the water conditions on Lake Champlain.  Big on my list was a kayak on this gorgeous lake, but once we arrived at the house, the winds were up a bit.  Lake Champlain is big and can be surprisingly dangerous.  We knew that our chances of still water were probably better the next morning rather than late in the afternoon, so we opted to wait for some time on the water.

The house is wonderful, built some time in the 20’s, with lots of sprawling enclosed porches, cozy chairs for reading and watching the water, and plenty of bedrooms.  I opted for the “maid’s quarters”, a sweet room just off the kitchen entry, chosen especially for the cushy down comforter and perfect mattress. 

Alan was glad to send us off, but of course was a bit jealous of our chance for time on the lake.  He and Jeanne come here often to swim, read, kayak, boat, and fish.  Over the last couple of years I have received countless photos from Jeanne of the lake from this vantage point, and it was wonderful to finally see it in person.

We didn’t linger long, however, deciding that a country drive to the little village of Vergennes was in order. On the way, we inhaled the lovely fragrance of fields spread with manure, a common occurrence this time of year in rural Vermont.  I didn’t find it unpleasant, though, somehow it fit perfectly with the beautiful farms in the valley of Lake Champlain.

Jeanne took me to a favorite little haunt at a nearby state park, Button Bay, where we paid the $6.00 entry fee to drive into the park.  It was the last day of the season, and we had the place almost entirely to ourselves.  Just a short hike led to the rocky point jutting into Lake Champlain where we hunted for the fossils that Alan had previously found.  We had no luck finding fossils, but the wild wind and waves on the lake and the dark clouds were incredibly dramatic and gorgeous.

There is RV and tent camping at this pretty state park, although I would imagine it could get a bit crowded during warm summer days. There were no hookups, but a dump station and nice showers are available. 

We then meandered through the countryside to the nearby village of Vergennes, where Jeanne hoped to get some pastries at her favorite spot “Vergennes French Laundry”.  Seems as though the place is only open a few days a week, and Monday wasn’t one of them.  Instead, we opted for outside dining at the trendy little Three Squares Cafe.

Specials for the day included a butternut squash and pumpkin ravioli, in a sage cream sauce with roasted veggies.  Oh My Yum!!  I must say Vermont food is some of the best I have ever experienced.

Back to the lake house, we settled in for the evening with cognac and books in the big comfy chairs overlooking the lake.  It was so nice to have quality quiet time in such a beautiful place with a good friend.

The next morning dawned a bit cloudy, but the winds were gentle, and by 7am we had the kayaks on the lake.  With just a bit of chill to the air, we paddled across the bay toward Otter Creek (actually it looks more like a river) and paddled upstream against the gently current.  Jeanne told a great story about a time when the revolutionaries were in the bay and the British thought they had them cornered.  Benedict Arnold, the commander at the time, dug a trench through the natural levee to Otter Creek, and his army escaped.  We kayaked to a spot where remnants of the trench are still visible.

It was a beautiful day on the water, and we stayed out three hours or so before returning to the lodge and packing up for the trip home.

Jeanne still had much to share with me however, and her route back to Dorset meandered over the mountains to the Appalachian Gap overlook and down into the little village of Waitsfield.  Even though Jeanne was technically raised in New Jersey, the house in the mountains above Waitsfield was her preferred childhood home.

Here the family would come during the summers and on winter weekends to ski.  Jeanne’s father took her skiing in a backpack when she was merely three months old, so she comes by her love of skiing naturally. Just up the road from the family home is the small local ski hill that Jeanne talked of so often, Mad River Glen. Once again, I delighted in seeing all the places I had heard about for so many years in person.

The Mad River flows through Waitsfield, and the covered bridge across the river was another treat.    We meandered around the town, visiting a few little shops where Jeanne found a perfect little dress for her rehearsal dinner.  Isn’t is amazing to have a friend that slips a size 6 over her head so effortlessly?!  While we shopped, Jeanne regaled me with some kayaking stories of her time on the rapids of the Mad River. 

Later she found the gravestones that were being hugged by trees in an old historic cemetery just outside of town.  Sherry, I thought of you with these stones, instead of you hugging the trees, the trees are doing the hugging!

The rest of the return trip to Dorset was through the back roads, along beautiful rivers, and down some dramatic canyons, where Jeanne again pointed out the names of the surrounding mountains where she hiked and skied. By the time we rolled into Dorset, it was late afternoon, and more wedding guests were beginning to arrive.

As Alan said, when I arrived, he felt as though it was “really happening, the wedding was really happening”!  But with the arrival of Alan’s best friends from around the world, Jeanne’s other friends from Oregon, and Tei and Cecil it was time to focus on the real reason I had come to Vermont.  The wedding celebrations were about to begin!

Next:  I do a little exploring on my own and then its time for a Wedding!