Highway 1

Highway 1
Traveling Highway 1

Thursday, March 5, 2020

03-04 to 03-05 2020 Over the Mountain for the Lava and the Birds

When we had the apartments in Klamath Falls, our journeys over the mountain were simple.  Load up the car and plan to stay in the extra apartment when we had to handle Klamath Basin business.  Now that the apartments are sold, it is all different. 

Mo had her taxes done in Klamath Falls for a couple of decades, and was reluctant to switch accountants with such a complex issue as selling the apartments.  She made an appointment with her tax lady and said, “Where should we stay when we go to Klamath Falls?”  We rolled that one around a bit, thinking that maybe the weather would be good enough to take the kayaks and dip into our favorite kayak waters.  Sometimes we have paddled this early in the year, and other times the Basin is covered with snow until May. 

Big Meadow near the summit of the High Lakes Pass.

The meadow is still covered in snow, but thin enough that the snowmobiles that frequent this area are banned for the time being.

Mattie wanted to go run on the snowy meadow

Things looked good until just a couple of days before our planned trip when snow and rain were predicted and the morning temperatures in the 20’s made both of us shiver. We decided to skip the kayaks.  Still, the motorhome was the best plan for the two evenings we planned to be away.  Who wants to stay in an expensive hotel when we have our own bed and nice clean COVID 19 virus free bathroom!  But where to park?!  WalMart?  We had no clue if they still allowed overnighting in the parking lot, but the KOA in town is terribly crowded and probably expensive as well.  We didn’t bother looking it up because Mo searched around a bit on AllStays and found reviews for the Kla-Mo-Ya Casino, just 20 minutes north of town.  Of course!  The parking lot there is huge.  We have visited the casino many times over the years but never had a reason to camp since we lived nearby. Paul and Nina stayed there and wrote up a great review of the place, with photos, which I didn’t bother to take.  We parked in the northern end where they parked but had no intrusive truckers join us to keep us awake. 

After settling in we unhooked the car and drove into town to meet with Mo’s accountant.  The warmish afternoon actually called for an ice cream cone at Baskin Robbins nearby before we traveled back north to our overnight spot. Once back home in the MoHo, we enjoyed supper in and never bothered to go to the casino.  Why take a chance on public spaces where people are touching everything and eating in a public restaurant.  Better to stay home in our own space.

Our original plan was to camp two nights at Kla-Mo-Ya, but the accountant said there was no need for Mo to stay around, she could mail the final papers to Grants Pass.  Hmmm.  What to do?

Even though we decided to skip taking the kayaks, it didn’t mean we couldn’t go find the birds.  The Klamath Basin is on the Pacific Flyway and I have been watching photos from Basin birders of the thousands of birds that rest in the refuge waters on their way north. 

I was craving open skies and distant views, and most of the camps in the local mountains are either in a dark hole, or closed for the season, or high enough in the mountains that they are still snowed in.  As we rolled around possibilities, I said, “I am hungry again for desert!”.  Suddenly we both thought of the perfect open desert landscape, with a beautiful campground that is open all year long.

Lava Beds National Monument is just 40 miles or so south of Klamath Falls, and on the southern edge of the Lower Klamath National Wildlife Refuge where we planned to spend the day.  It was easy to decide to pack up the MoHo and travel south to the Monument with the idea that we could settle in with the rig and then return to the refuge for an afternoon of birding.

It was a beautiful drive, with temperatures in the high 50’s and gorgeous blue skies.  We were thrilled when we drove into the campground to discover it was completely empty.  It isn’t a big campground and the A loop was the only loop open, but no matter, we had our choice of the best campsite there.  None of the sites are particularly big and for some reason the one way road is opposite the direction it should be for parking a motorhome along each campsite.  When the LEO checked in with us she mentioned that they were considering expanding the campground to include space for bigger rigs, and I suggested that it would be a simple fix to just change the direction of the one way road.

The silence was what struck me first, and then the view from our spot, north the many miles across the refuge toward Klamath Falls.  The MoHo was parked on level asphalt, with the campfire and picnic table just a few steps away.  I turned to Mo and said, “I don’t want to leave.  How do you feel about us skipping the drive back to the refuge and just sitting here all afternoon with this silence and this view?”  Mo agreed completely, and we opened the doors to feel the slight breeze, set up our chairs, and wished we had brought firewood.

I drove back up to the visitor center on the off chance that they might have some and was told that we could either drive 18 miles one way to Tionesta, 30 miles the other way toward Tulelake, or maybe the corner store on StateLine Road would have some wood.  Or another option was to drive 6 miles south into the Modoc National Forest and forage on our own for free down wood. 

We took off in the Tracker on the forest road and had fun hunting for old dry wood and filled up the back of the car with enough for the evening.  Once again, we had the road and the forest to ourselves and Mattie had a great time running around off leash in the woods with us.

Back home we relaxed a bit as the evening began to cool.  I heated up our soup while Mo built a great fire and we settled in to enjoy dinner with a view at the massive picnic table built in the 1930’s by the CCC. 

The night was completely silent, and not quite completely dark with the quarter moon shedding more light than I have sometimes seen in a completely full moon.  We sat in our chairs by the fire and with a surprisingly good cell signal I used our favorite little FlightTracker app to identify all the planes flying over us in both directions.  There were a LOT more planes flying in this area that we usually see in Grants Pass to the west.

It was a cold night, with lows dropping to 26 degrees F before morning, but we were toasty.  There are no hookups, but the furnace kept us warm enough with a comforter and 2 quilts. I got up in the dark a few times to try to id stars and constellations as well, but the bright moon and the bit of high cloudiness made it hard to see so I gave up and snuggled back under the covers with my book.  A great night of darkness and silence. 

We enjoyed a slow morning with breakfast and coffee and I managed a short little hike along the 7 Mile Trail that starts at the campground.  Lava Beds is most famous for its lava caves and tubes, and while many are named there are little caves everywhere that aren’t even on the map.  Lava Beds National Monument has instituted a screening procedure to help prevent the spread of bat white-nose syndrome to its caves.  You must have a permit to show that you haven’t been in any caves anywhere else in the recent past.

We packed up and headed back across the monument, stopping to enjoy the views of the Devils Homestead lava flow.  In the distance to the south the broad expanse of the source of all that lava can be seen, still covered in deep snow. 

The Medicine Lake Volcano is home to one of our favorite campsites in the heart of the Caldera, Medicine Lake Campground.  However, at over 7,000 feet elevation the road isn’t accessible until early summer and often snow is still in the campground into June.  Hoping for another great camping trip this coming summer at Medicine Lake.

Our route back toward home passed through two wildlife refuges, Tulelake NWR and Lower Klamath NWR.  Each refuge has its own personality, but both are supplied with water by the Bureau of Recreation for the Klamath Basin Project.  Sometimes there is a lot of water allowed into the refuges, and other times not so much, depending on the forecast for the water year and where the water needs to be allocated.  Water from Klamath Lake goes down the Klamath River, habitat for salmon.  Before it gets to the river however, it is diverted into canals to supply the farmers in the Klamath Basin.  If there is enough water for the salmon and enough for the farmers, and oh yes, enough to keep water in the lake to support the endangered sucker breeding beds, then there will be some left over for the birds.  It is a constant battle.  The water was allocated to the basin by the BoR in 1905, and there is never enough to supply all the needs, so something goes wanting even in a good year, much less a drought year. Here is a link to a study by the USGS about water in the basin.

This time around, as we passed the Tulelake NWR we saw that most of the fields were dry and the ponds where we have walked and seen so many birds were also dry.  We didn’t stop, but continued back west toward Lower Klamath NWR, where there was more water than we have seen in years. 

There is a beautiful refuge graveled auto tour that circles the largest wetlands, and we have often seen huge flocks of many types of geese and swans there during some years.  This year we were a bit late for the geese, but a few swans were still around, and many many ducks.  We saw more bufflehead ducks throughout the refuge than we have ever seen in the past.

Cinnamon teal family on Lower Klamath NWR

White Front Geese with some Northern Shovelers tucked in on Lower Klamath NWR

Northern Shoveler at Lower Klamath NWR

Toward the Willows section of the auto route there are some large cottonwoods that host a heron and egret rookery, but we saw no herons and the egrets have yet to return.  Sadly, a nesting pair of herons were scared from their nest by the many tourists who travel the road and get out of their cars.  People don’t seem to know that staying in your car is the best way to avoid disturbing the birds, and we saw people walking around taking photos.  I follow a birding group from Klamath Basin on Facebook and learned after we got home that the refuge closed the auto tour in that area to try to protect the birds from people.  I wish they had done it before the herons abandoned their nest. 

What we did see however, were many eagles perched high in the cottonwoods watching the wetlands for their next tasty duck dinner.  The one eagle was on the window side of the car, so I was able to shoot the photo without disturbing him.  In the trees on the west side of the road and the canal there were 2 or 3 eagles in each tree, but harder to get a good shot because of the branches and lighting.  Still it was great to see so many eagles.

We returned to the MoHo parked at the entrance to the refuge auto tour and settled in for a nice lunch as the winds kicked up with a coming storm.  Returning to Grants Pass that afternoon we were grateful for the perfect timing of our trip since the very next day there were storms and snows over the High Lakes Pass that was part of our return route.

Sunday, March 1, 2020

03-01-2020 Celebrating Mo’s 80th

If there is one thing I know for sure about Mo, after all these years, it is that a big party in her honor is about her least favorite thing.  When my kids said, “Geez, Mom, it’s her 80th!  We need to have a party!" I said the best birthday present we can give her is NOT having a party.

Instead we celebrated by spending the entire day doing something just for the two of us.  The last time we had a meal at Wolf Creek Inn was in 2009, a year when we still lived in snowy Rocky Point.  A trip over the mountain was a great way to get away from winter, and I still remember the rather incredible Bacon Lettuce Avocado Tomato sandwich I had on that lovely day.

Mo found a coupon in our local paper for Sunday brunch at the Inn, which has been remodeled and refurbished since we last visited. One morning she said to me, “This is my choice for my birthday”.  Perfect.  I called and made a reservation.  She also said, “After brunch, let’s go to Crater Lake”.  Another perfect choice.  We haven’t been to Crater Lake in a couple of years, and most of the time we go there in order to show the magnificent blue to visiting friends.

Going to brunch north of Grants Pass first meant returning south of Grants Pass to continue east toward the mountains.  We knew there would be snow at Crater Lake, where the snows often pile up a dozen feet deep clear into May.  What surprised us was the gorgeous blue bird day that greeted us on Sunday morning, Mo’s special day.

Wolf Creek Inn was built around 1883 for Henry Smith, a local merchant-entrepreneur. Wolf Creek Tavern, as it was known then, was exceptionally well crafted by local sawyers. It served local traffic to mines and stage travelers connecting between Roseburg and Redding prior to the completion of the Oregon and California railroad through the Siskiyou Mountains in 1887.

Wolf Creek Inn is the oldest continuously operated hotel in the Pacific Northwest. It is here that Jack London completed his novel Valley Of The Moon. As an important stop on the 16 day stagecoach journey from San Francisco to Portland, the Wolf Creek Tavern has housed practically every important person found in the Northwest during the early history of Oregon.

Back in the early days of movies, the Inn became a refuge for beleaguered actors seeking an escape from demanding Hollywood studios. Clark Gable was a good friend of the innkeeper in the 1930s and stopped by several times while fishing the Rogue River just a few miles west of the Inn. Other visitors that have signed the guest register include Carole Lombard and Orson Wells.

Between 1975 and 1979, the Inn was acquired by the State of Oregon and restored. Wolf Creek Tavern is listed in the National Register of Historic Places. It is among the best preserved and oldest active travelers inns in Oregon.

When we arrived at the Inn, there were only a few guests, and our reservation may have been unnecessary. We settled in at a small window table and enjoyed the ambience of the old wooden floor and the wide ceiling planks.  A photo of Henry Smith watched over us as we dined.  The brunch was interesting, completely different than any we have enjoyed in the past.  The buffet portion of the brunch was in another room and consisted of some strange offerings for breakfast, including various German sausages and sauerkrauts, some kind of meat balls with gravy, and apple strudel.  Our brunch purchase included a cocktail of our choice, bloody mary or mimosa, the buffet choices, and what was called the “main plate”, which could also be ordered off the menu.  It was a bit confusing, with the buffet choices offered first so that by the time we received our main plate we were already well sated. For me, the bloody mary might have been enough.  Delicious!

After we ate, we retired to the front parlor with our unfinished drinks and enjoyed the warm fire.  A few folks came and went, a tiny girl running and playing, a young woman sitting down at the piano, people wandering around the house looking at the antiques and waiting for their turn at breakfast, or simply enjoying the public areas after staying at the Inn.

Leaving the Inn around 12, we headed back south on the interstate to the exit for the road east to Crater Lake.  Highway 234 winds along the Rogue River toward Shady Cove where it intersects with Highway 62.  We are very familiar with the other end of Highway 62 since it follows the southern boundary of Crater Lake National Park toward Fort Klamath in the Wood River Valley not far from where we used to live in Rocky Point.

One of my favorite vistas along Highway 62 as it approaches Prospect and Union Creek is the huge forest of Douglas fir and incense cedar that lines both sides of the highway.  The Rogue River flows unseen just to the west of the highway until it reaches the natural bridges area where trails and swinging pedestrian bridges cross the wild chasm of the Rogue flowing through basalt caves.  A wondrous place during the season, but the road is closed during the winter so no visit to the bridge this time.

As we continued up the mountain toward Crater Lake the snows got deeper and deeper along the highway, with the vertical walls created by snowplows more than a dozen feet high in places.  With the brilliant sunshine we marveled at the shadows of trees on the snowbanks.

We entered the park with our geezer pass and were surprised that the road leading to the south rim and Crater Lake Lodge was actually in better shape than parts of Highway 62 outside the park boundary.  The skies were incredibly blue and as we approached the Rim we could see strong winds blowing snow off the ridges around us and a heavy rime of ice on the trees along the highest ridges.

It was 27 F when we reached the Rim, and the snow banks were high enough that it was impossible to see the lake without climbing up the deep snowbanks.  We drove around the parking lot of the closed lodge and found a place to park not far from an access point that seemed not terribly difficult, even though it was hard packed snow and ice and incredibly slippery.

The shock of 27 degrees and a strong wind coming up from the lake was a surprise, and I had a terrible time trying to get photos of the lake with the phone.  Good thing I hadn’t tried to carry a big camera.  The lake was literally navy blue.  I have seen it at all stages of weather and all colors of blue, but I think this was the darkest ever.  I was completely frustrated that there were bright yellow cords and orange poles marking the boundary of what was safe enough to avoid a snowy crash into the crater.  With my freezing hands and the brilliant sun in my eyes, taking photos was almost impossible, and Mo and I laughed ourselves silly trying to get a selfie with the lake in the background. 

We walked back to the parked car and found another access point a bit farther down the rim and got out once again to brave the cold and to give Mattie a bit of an outing.  She was so excited to be on that snow, and we are pretty sure she thought it was just another cold sand dune and was ready to run wildly in circles.  Mo didn’t dare let her off the leash or she might have gone flying right down those snowy cliffs.  Once again, I tried to take photos of the two of them walking on the snowy ridge, but with my freezing fingers, trying to hold on to the sticks to keep from falling on the ice, hold the phone and see the completely blackened out display, I just gave up.  Only in our memories.

We didn’t stay long, happy to get back into our warm car in the warm sunshine.  Enough time had passed that we could adhere to tradition and stop in at Beckie’s Cafe for berry pie on the way home.  Beckie’s is famous locally, and most everyone who lives near Crater Lake on either side of the Cascades knows about their pies. 

On this sunny Sunday afternoon, we were lucky to get a booth for our delicious late afternoon dessert.  The pie was a delicious as always, and the coffee was served in heavy old fashioned mugs that have been part of old fashioned diners since I can remember.

It was a great day to spend a birthday.  When we returned home just before dark that evening, Mo found many birthday greetings, both email and facebook to honor her day.  Say what you will about Facebook, one of the more delightful aspects is getting all those birthday greetings from people who might never think to send an actual card.  Mo had real cards as well, and we lined them up as we traditionally do for birthdays and holidays on the bookshelf near the fireplace.

Happy 80th Birthday Mo!


Tuesday, February 18, 2020

02-14-2020 Wandering Toward Home

After traveling as far as Kingman to spend the night in at Fort Beale RV Park, we knew it was time to make some decisions about our route back to Oregon.  There are many options, some of which are much better a bit later in the season.

The beautiful, historic train depot in Kelso

This time of year, Highway 395 can be completely unpredictable, and while it is our favorite route back home most of the time, the weather apps weren’t cooperating with our choice.  It appeared that the southern portion of the route would be OK, but then we would have to backtrack over Donner Pass and I-80 to Sacramento and then back north on the 5.  All our back routes over the northern part of the Sierra’s either were closed, or had bad weather predicted.

We looked at each other, the maps and the forecasts, and decided it was best to bite the bullet and make the traditional run home.  Back to Bakersfield, up the 99 or the 5 to Sacramento, then continue north over Mt Shasta and the Siskiyous toward home.  The boring long fast 700 mile run crossing the state of California in its least appealing version.

Still, we had some options even with that scenario.  Did we want to continue west and north toward Bullhead City? Go all the way south to the 10 back to Quartzsite? Maybe continue south and west on the 15?  Camping at what I had initially thought would be our night destination was just a bit too short.  It was less than 75 miles to the Hole in the Wall campground, a favorite spot in the Mojave Preserve.  At this stage of our homeward run, neither of us could quite accept a day that short.  After a bit of a tussle between what we wanted and what would work, we finally decided that we would continue on I-15 as far as the Kelso turnoff at the southern end of the Mojave Preserve, and then travel north across the preserve to see if a boondock site presented itself.

The Mojave Desert Preserve is a treasure of wild desert landscapes, including the Kelso Dunes, where there is a nice area for boondocking near the end of the rough dirt and gravel road at the trail head.  We drove to Kelso, unhooked the baby car for the exploration, left the MoHo in the parking lot and headed back south toward the Kelso Dunes road.

In spite of assurances from Gaelyn that it really wasn’t that rough, after a mile or two we made the joint decision that the MoHo wouldn’t be bumping along on all those washboards.  It was gorgeous out there, and not too many tourists, even on this nice Friday mid day.  We laughed at each other because we knew that with my limited hiking abilities, climbing the dunes might not be something we could do.  However, another member of our family is crazy about sand, especially dunes, and we both agreed that we were braving the washboard road for one person only. Mattie.

Pretty sure this rhus species isn’t native to the area, couldn’t find it anywhere in a desert flower book

With no flowers to help with ID, I had to settle for an astragalus species

The sun was warm and the winds were slight making our time walking on the lower dune trail delightful.  Mattie got her fill of running in circles and we found some interesting plants to photograph.  There were a few people camped, one couple with a trailer parked under a shady tree and camp chairs out in the sun, enjoying the gorgeous day with their books.

Not for us.  We wanted to continue on our westward journey toward Baker, open to the possibility that we might find someplace to boondock that wasn’t too far off on a rough road and yet not terribly close to the Interstate.  We found a couple of promising roads, but it was getting late in the day and neither of us felt like unhooking to check them out so we continued toward Baker.

Just in time, maybe half a mile before the intersection with the Interstate, we found a nice big pull-out, conveniently located at the Mojave Preserve entrance sign.  The breeze blew the sounds in the opposite direction, and if we avoided looking due west, we could convince ourselves we were in the middle of nowhere.  It was great to settle into the desert for one last night, knowing that the rest of our travels would be through the “gut” of California.

One of the things I like most about boondocking in the desert is the ability to leave all the window coverings wide open to watch the night.  The stars were magnificent, but the string of lights in both directions along I-15 was fascinating as well.  Amazing how many people are traveling between Las Vegas and Los Angeles on a Friday night.

The next morning we took our time getting ready to roll, enjoying the last little bit of desert time before our run home.  Our next planned stop was in Bakersfield, and for the first time in many years, we decided to skip Orange Grove RV Park.  With a rig that didn’t need washing, and no oranges to pick, the $50. price tag was just too steep for a one night stopover.

With a bit of searching, I found the Shady Haven RV Resort, just a few more miles west of Orange Grove RV.  The park was interesting to say the least.  On the website, and again when I phoned for a reservation for that night, the ban against smokers was emphasized.  No Smoking Allowed anywhere in the park, even in your own rig!  It advertised as a Wellness Resort.

When we signed in, we could see that there was a large section of what was at one time mostly permanent residents, and a newer section for overnighters.  There were many newly planted palm trees, a very tall, very protective looking steel fence with concertina wire on the top, and electronic gates.

When I signed in and paid the very reasonable $33. fee, the young kid at the register referred to “our park”, and told me the story of his company buying the park and having to evict more than 50 percent of the residents for refusing to adhere to the no smoking rule.  It seems that he works for the company who bought the park, some independent owners who actually “flip” businesses in the same way that some people flip houses.  I wish them well.  We would probably stay there again.  To compensate for the lack of oranges, I simply stopped at the California Fruit Depot nearby and bought a ten pound bag of perfectly sweet juicy oranges for 8 bucks.  I made my last glass of orange juice this morning, and these are no doubt the last oranges I will try until next year when we once again travel south.  I can’t bear a supermarket orange.

Sometimes you meet the nicest people in random RV parks.  Parked next to us was a lovely couple from New Hampshire, and the woman Liz just had to come over and meet Mattie.  Mattie knows a dog person when she finds one and they made instant friends.  In the morning, she came over once again to say bye to Mattie and brought some traditional Mexican wedding cookies.  Nice people!

This heavy handmade gate at the dog park at Shady Haven was gorgeous.

It was a Sunday morning, and we had to make the decision about which route to travel north through central California.  The mileage between Bakersfield and Sacramento are the same, whether you drive I-5 or Highway 99.  One never knows how the pavement will be on either route, but this time we decided to go with 99.  Both of us remember pavement that blew out our tires on I-5, but there is no way of knowing which one would have been the better route.

We also diverged from our usual routine of traveling from Bakersfield to Lodi and staying at Flag City.  Neither of us wanted to pay for a park for our last night out and decided that instead we would boondock at the Pilot station in Dunnigan.  For who knows what reason, our day on the road seemed incredibly long, and we were both exhausted when we pulled in to Dunnigan.  Mo took one look at the very ratty RV’s in the Pilot parking lot and said, nope, not gonna do it!  Instead we drove a block north and settled in to the Happy Times RV Park for another simple $35.  Better to pay for a safe night than have to worry about whatever was around us at the station.

The next day Monday was my turn to drive, and I must say I have never enjoyed I-5 north of Sacramento quite as much as I did on this gorgeous sunny day.  The air was clear enough that I could see the mountains on both sides of the valley.  Snow on the Sierras to the east and snow on the Trinities to the west sparkled against a backdrop of miles and miles of pink almonds coming into bloom.  When Mt Shasta appeared to the north, brilliantly covered in deep white snow, we knew we were almost home.

Look closely to see the high winds blowing snow around on the peak of Mt Shasta

It was a tremendously satisfying trip, with a chance to experience many different habitats and landscapes in just three weeks out.  We had the ocean, the coast, the desert, the mountains, the big city of Phoenix, more desert, red rocks in Sedona, more desert in Mojave Preserve, and yes…the long boring gut of California through the San Joaquin and Sacramento Valleys. We also had a chance to meet old and new friends and visit with family along the way. 

No matter how beautiful the world we travel, there is nothing quite as beautiful as returning to our home.  We were unloaded within an hour, with piles of laundry ready to tackle in the next couple of days.  The weather was nice enough that we managed to get both the MoHo and the Tracker washed, and in the next few days I will work on the inside of the rig getting it ready for our next outing in March.

Our welcome home included lots of fresh green grass and I celebrated by mowing the front lawn and Mo mowed the pasture.  Ahh spring is coming.  There are buds on the daffodils and the daphne has started blooming.