10-01-2020 Traveling to Northern Washington

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The MoHo in Site 3 at LePage on the John Day River

I have hesitated a bit in writing this particular blog. I set the posting date for October 6, but today it is actually October 26 and I am finally sitting down to write about our trip. 

Early evening at LePage where the John Day River meets the Columbia

Some might guess the reason for my hesitation.  It was a family visit, one of those gatherings that seem to engender all sorts of responses from all random corners of the internet about social distancing, mask wearing, and staying at home.  I know there will be reactions out there and I really don’t like having to explain myself, but I guess I have to at least try, because I want to write about our trip.  I don’t want an empty spot in the blog that is our personal history.

Late Afternoon on the John Day River

After many months of keeping mostly to ourselves, like others, I suffered from family hunger.  I wanted to see my daughter before winter set in, I wanted to see my grandkids before they have grandchildren of their own, I wanted to see my great-grandkids.  I said to Mo,  “What do you think about a trip to Lincoln to visit Deanna and Keith?”.  As always, Mo was ready for a journey, ready for a trip, and we decided we could take our chances and go visit the family.  In fairness, I talked extensively with Deanna before deciding to go.  At the time, her county in northeastern Washington state had 2, yes, you read that right, 2 cases of COVID and no deaths.  Our county here in Oregon had some of the lowest numbers in our state as well.  My grandson is isolated on his homestead, and my great-grandkids are being schooled at home.  No one seemed to be in any danger of either being sick or being exposed.  Mo and I were clean, the family was clean, and we decided to go. 

Full moon night on the John Day River at LePage

Unlike days in the past, where my blog had a few hundred readers each day, the numbers have reduced considerably since I no longer blog on a regular basis.  The days of blogging the way we used to are definitely waning, but as I had said before, it is the history and the memories that are important to me.  If I were writing only for myself, I would have to make no explanations, but even the few readers I have left will no doubt have some opinions, pro or con, about our choice to travel and visit family.  So, to set the minds of those few readers at ease…it has been 3 weeks now and we are all just fine and still healthy.

We decided to travel the eastern route toward Crater Lake and Highway 97, intercepting I-84 at Biggs Junction on the Columbia River.  It would have been possible to make the trip in a day of long driving, as my daughter Deborah did, but no reason for us to do that.  Instead, we made a reservation at LePage, a campground we are familiar with and have used often.

I was very glad I had made the reservation since the campground was completely full.  It is an easy place to stay for an overnight, and with our geezer pass quite inexpensive with water and electric. The somewhat shocking surprise was the recent clearing of the big old cottonwoods and locust trees that shaded the campground.  It felt quite different, and much more open, but for only a night it wasn’t bad.  On a hot day, I am sure folks would miss those trees, however the newly planted saplings will be more healthy, much safer, and will eventually shade the campsites.

The view from Deanna’s windows

Smoke at varying levels was our constant companion on the trip north, and the murky skies followed us all the way to Davenport.  Once we arrived at daughter Deanna and husband Keith’s property, the smoke cleared a bit.  Our early afternoon arrival was perfect, in time to visit before supper.

Left to Right:  Deanna, Deb, Keith, Mo

Daughter Deborah, and Grandson Matthew had arrived the previous night after driving all day from Southern Oregon.  When we got to Deanna’s everyone was having a great time cooking together and visiting.  Grandson Steven lives about an hour north, and he drove down for dinner as well with my other great-grandson Matthew.  The younger Matt became known as Matt-Two as the weekend wore on.

Theron “Tito”, Tracey, and Tearany “Squish”

On Saturday morning the rest of the family arrived, with Tracey coming from Wenatchee with 3 of my great-grandkids to spend the weekend. 

Keith and Deanna have a dog free house, but they made an exception for Mattie

Grandpa Keith with my great-grandson Orion

Left to right: Keith, Theron, Orion, Tearany, Deanna, Matt-Two

Deanna’s home is on acreage overlooking Roosevelt Lake, and there is a resident herd of bighorn sheep that help themselves to her ripe peaches and apples. 

Notice the pretty orange Kubota tractor.  Keith and Deanna purchased Mo’s trusty Kubota last summer.  We lots of photos of grandkids being driven around by Mo on that tractor when they were small.

We later made a trip back to grandsons Steven’s house to see his beautiful homestead and meet his new sweetheart.  The day was warm and sunny with the skies clearing a bit.  

Grandsons Matthew and Steven

Stormy and Steven at their home

Deanna, Deborah and Mattie checking out the chicken house at Steven’s place

With lots of food and laughter the day just seemed to flow and came to a great conclusion with a late birthday party for me and for Steven, who share the same birthdate, September 15.  It is kind of neat that my first grandchild was born on my 37th birthday.

Great-grandkids decorated our birthday cake

With lots of silliness going on, we laughed a lot at Matt-Two’s interpretation of the yoga moves that Stormy and Steven were directing. 

It was beyond wonderful having the chance to see this part of my family again.  I haven’t visited these great-grandkids for almost 3 years, since Christmas 2018, and I felt like I simply couldn’t wait any longer. I’ll treasure every single moment of this visit. 

We chose to return on Monday by way of Mo’s brother’s home in Beaverton, who has also been socially distanced with his own family bubble for several months.  We broke our bubble to share time with them as well, but opted for an outdoor supper at the local food cart parking lot on the outskirts of Portland.  It wasn’t quite as exciting as I had hoped, with the biggest cartlandia location being recently closed and many carts relocated throughout the city.  Still it was a fun evening and Dan and Chere had hookups and space available for the MoHo so we could sleep in our own space.

Silly me, I got photos of the new living room furniture at Melody’s but no people photos!

The trip south toward Grants Pass took us within three miles of Daughter Melody’s new home in Brownsville and we stopped in for an afternoon visit and lunch with her as well.  Melody is still working from home after 7 months now.  She and Robert moved into their “new” home (built in 1908) right as COVID started and she has been working from home every since.

Overall it was a wonderful trip, with a warm dose of family time to help heal the isolation that we have been living through for so very long.  And as I said, we are all OK.  Might be nothing more than pure luck, but I am glad that luck was with all of us.

9-27-2014 A Day on Lopez Island

Current Location: Rocky Point Oregon Clear and 37 F at 8AM

I was so excited when I went to sleep after our beautiful evening sunset, knowing that the skies were clearing and we had a sunny day ahead for our trip to Lopez Island.  What I forgot about being around all that water, was the clear skies often bring fog.  We woke early Saturday morning to thick fog blanketing our campground with all views completely obscured.

Ah well, it should lift eventually, right?  The weather people were predicting a gorgeous sunny day in the San Juan Islands.  Hoping for as much time as possible on the island, we left camp around 7 and arrived at the ferry terminal in Anacortes before 8.  What I didn’t understand properly was how to interpret the ferry schedules, and after we paid $44 for our round trip fare, the cashier told us to get in line in lane 1 for the first ferry to Lopez that would leave at 10:30 AM.  Hmmm.

I knew we were supposed to be in line an hour early, but two and an half hours wasn’t exactly on our agenda.  Especially in the fog.  There was a small coffee shop near the lines that advertised fresh hot coffee, but when I reached the cashier, they were out of coffee.  Just down the road, however, in the terminal building was another coffee shop and I didn’t mind the wait in line.  Not much difference between waiting in the car or in the terminal.  I picked up a couple of coffees and gathered a big stack of brochures for the islands.  It was the smartest move of the day, since there is very little phone service on Lopez, and my most useful find was an excellent fold out map of Lopez Island.  Our day would have been much more difficult without that map.

The fog refused to lift or lighten, and by the time we were actually on the ferry traveling west, the skies and the views were still completely obscured.  The fog was so dense that they had a person spotting at the front of the ferry to give notice to the bridge of any hidden obstacles.

Arriving at the tiny ferry terminal at the northern end of the island, I was impressed with the number of bikers in their northwest gear that lined up to get off on Lopez.  With a more level landscape than the other major islands, Lopez is very popular with bicyclists.  Driving up that first hill off the ferry and as we continued south along the two lane roads toward “town”, it did not look level to me!  I was glad to be in a car.

In the fog shrouded landscape, a visit to Holly B’s Bakery  was a perfect way to begin our tour of the island.  Kayaking in the chilly fog wasn’t big on the agenda.  Holly B’s was busy on this Saturday morning, and I must say that the cinnamon roll I purchased was perfect.  Dense and not too sweet filled with nutty goodness, it was my favorite kind of pastry.  Next to the bakery is the local bookstore, with both new and used books.  A “real” bookstore, and we spent some time perusing the shelves and enjoying the ambiance of the place with lots of other folks who were visiting Lopez on this foggy Saturday morning.

I knew there was a Saturday Farmer’s Market but it ended in mid September.  A nice surprise was finding two small booths filled with fresh produce from the local farmers.  I bought some heirloom tomatoes, one called “the mortgage lifter” because the variety paid off someone’s mortgage.  Yum!  I also bought some kind of giant purple carrot that we sliced for carrot chips and some greens, some fingerling potatoes, and a couple of ears of tiny corn.  I should have taken out the camera a bit more, but the fog was dampening my photo spirits and I didn’t bother.

Best part of the farmer booths was the young man running one of them who told me, “Just head south!.  The southern end of the island is in full sunshine right now.  I had to leave it to drive into the fog to come to market”.  Yayay!  It was already after noon, and in Lopez Village the fog was thick.

Following our trusty little map, we traveled south over the narrow and picturesque roads right into the sunlight shining across the beautiful pastoral landscape.  The forests are dark, but where the land has been cleared the light is gorgeous and the farms are lovely.

Our destination was Mackaye Harbor, suggested by Laurel, who volunteered on Lopez for a couple of months, as a good place to kayak.  The skies were clear and the sun was gorgeous as we arrived at the boat launch, and the winds were almost non existent across the bay.  Perfect.  As warned, however, that water was cold!  I have heard since forever that kayaking in the San Juan’s requires good skills and either a wet or dry suit because of the cold water.  We had neither, but with the sunshine and light winds it seemed perfectly fine.

For a long time it was perfectly fine.  The water was clear and the rocky shoreline on the north side of the bay provided interest.  Our plan was to head north along the shoreline, hopefully rounding the point toward Davis Bay.  The closer we got to the narrows, however, the rougher the water became and the swells although not bad,  I had no idea how bad they could get.  After all, it was Puget Sound, it was cold, the wind was coming up, and we had no wetsuits.  I have to say I got a bit wussy, and suggested to Mo that maybe we should head across the bay toward the southern shoreline rather than going farther out into the straits between Lopez and San Juan.

Even though our time on the water wasn’t as long as expected, it was good that we turned around, because by the time we got back to the launch, the winds were rising considerably and I could see little fog fingers coming across the hills toward the south. Our kayaks are wonderful on lakes, even in the wind they track well, and we have managed mild currents in rivers and high waves on windy lakes.  Still, something about these waters gave me an inner chill and I didn’t want to push my luck.  Especially with Abby in Mo’s boat and that cold water. 

Laugh if you will, but kayaking dark clear rivers in Florida with alligators on the shoreline didn’t create the bit of apprehension that I felt in the cold water of the San Juan’s.  I know I would like to go back again, maybe when the weather is a bit more predictable, if it ever is, and explore the many other bays and shorelines of the islands.  I might like to actually pay for a guided tour in a sea kayak with someone who understands how these waters work and then it wouldn’t be such an unknown.  Still, I am so glad that we managed to at least get on the water and that the fog cleared up enough in the afternoon for us to do it.

The timing was all good, and we loaded up the boats and followed a different route back north to the ferry landing.  The ferry was scheduled to leave at 5 and we were in line by 4.  However, because of the fog, the ferry was delayed and we didn’t board until 5:30.  So again, our lovely tiny bit of afternoon on Lopez was bracketed by several hours of ferry time. 

The ferry  trip back to Anacortes, however, was clear and beautiful, with no fog to mar the view.  I again went outside to try for some photos, but that cold wind drove me back indoors.  I wasn’t dressed in fleece and windbreakers the way locals know how to dress.  We arrived home at Cliffside RV Park on Whidbey Island just at dark.

Our day on Lopez was wonderful in spite of the fog and the delays, and I am so glad that we managed the trip.  I re-read Nina’s post about visiting the San Juan’s again recently, and can only say that she is so right about her suggestions.  It is incredibly spendy to travel on the ferries with a motorhome, and there are delays and weather to consider.  We will go back for sure, possibly to Orcas, possibly to San Juan, and will pay the big bucks to get the MoHo to a spendy campground on one of those islands and actually stay for a few days. 

The islands are beautiful, the water is everywhere, I would love to have more time to go slowly and see more.  I am not sure when the weather would be best, I think that part may be a crapshoot, with summer fog a possibility and winter cold rains a complete deterrent. 

We planned our exit from Puget Sound perfectly, leaving Whidbey Island early on Sunday morning and traveling the dreaded route north to Mt Vernon and I-5, skipping the ferries.  We passed right through downtown Seattle around 8 am, without any traffic to speak of, and were in Portland in mid afternoon as the traffic started picking up.  In the future, when we go back to the islands, our choice might be to stay at Fort Lewis on a Saturday night and drive north to Whidbey Island via I-5 early on a Sunday morning.  It could work, and then our only big ferry expenses would be getting the rig onto the islands.

Spending the night in Beavercreek near Portland with Mo’s brother Dan and wife Chere was delightful.  Hookups on the driveway and a great Mexican dinner topped off our visit.  On Monday morning we decided that rather than taking boring I-5 and Highway 58 back home, the longer route over Mt Hood on Highway 26 would be beautiful.  Sunny skies and a nice rest stop along the Deschutes River mid morning gave Abby a chance to test the waters and us a chance to warm up a bit. 

No big trips for the MoHo are on the agenda in the next few weeks, but I am heading east to Vermont in a couple of days for Jeanne’s wedding.  It will be my first time in Vermont, and from what I hear the leaves are waiting for me to get there before they fall.  Mo will be holding down the fort here in Rocky Point this time while I go off adventuring on my own. 

Abby is still with us, still eating and doing OK for now.  She does sleep a lot, and now she pants loudly and snores even more loudly.  The vet said that is a common side effect of the prednisone.  But she is still here, she still is smiling, and still enjoying pets and hugs and Mo and I are appreciating the time we have with her beyond what the vet predicted. 

Playing in Puget

Current Location: Whidbey Island NAS Cliffside RV Park 55 degrees F and dark skies

Fort Lewis Travel Camp site 107

When planning our Puget Sound trip, I discovered again the fabulous retired military benefit of camping at Military Family Camps that are on many bases throughout the country. Finding good camping in this highly populated part of the west isn’t easy.  Boondocking sites are few and far between, with no public lands in the vicinity, and state parks are expensive.  I was delighted to locate two FamCamps in the vicinity of our planned travels.

Just south of Tacoma, at Joint Base Fort Lewis-McChord in what is called North Lewis, is a lovely forested spacious camp along American Lake.  Within noise distance of I-5, the thick forest muffles the sound of the interstate and I only heard traffic in the dark at 5am as the morning commute commenced.

We had reservations, and were efficiently sent to site 106, a back-in spot surrounded by trees.  Cable is provided and until we turned on the TV we didn’t know that a digital television was required.  Ah well then, let’s set up the satellite.  Of course, we were surrounded by trees, but the empty site across the way, a pull through site, had full view of the southern sky.

Without any difficulty, I went back to the office, requested the change, and in minutes we were settled into the new site with the satellite all hooked up.  Until the rain started and the signal scrambled.  Often camping without benefit of hookups, much less television, it was no big deal, but it is nice to keep abreast of world events now and then.

My Verizon MiFi worked great, which was also a good thing since I saw nary a sign of the base wifi that was supposed to be available in this campground.  Mo was running low on prednisone for Abby and we needed to find a vet who would refill her prescription. 

We found a vet at a nearby PetSmart who agreed to see Abby, and decided that we could continue north to visit Gig Harbor for the rest of the afternoon.  Gig Harbor is a beautiful small town with a famous walking waterfront, lots of good restaurants, and art galleries.  A trendy, touristy, fun place.  I have read about it often, and always wanted to visit.

As we crossed the Tacoma Narrows bridge on Highway 16 we were warned that traffic backup in Gig Harbor was more than 4 miles out.  Having no clue as to the cause, we simply assumed that it was standard traffic stuff for an area known for congested traffic.  We made it to town eventually and parked a few blocks up from the waterfront and the Tides Tavern, our destination restaurant.

Tides was delightful, and I did have to do a “food porn” shot of my incredible salmon sliders.  We were just in time for happy hour, and in addition to a great beer selection, the happy hour menu was perfect for our late afternoon lunch/early supper.  Mo had a single piece of fish and chips, but my sliders were on fresh baked slider buns, slathered with chipotle aioli on one side and basil pesto on the other.  Yum.  Oh, and don’t forget the fried pickles as well.  First time I had them was in Seaside Florida, and these weren’t as good, but still yummy.

Our waiter was perfect, just chatty enough and the service was excellent. Our waiter showed us where Mt Rainier was located in the clouds.  The tavern is famous for its view of the mountain. He told us where we might walk to see the town, but as we watched the rain pour down we decided that a drive through might be a better choice.  Gig Harbor is great, but not so much in a heavy pouring rain.

That is when it got interesting.  The traffic was bumper to bumper, completely stopped no matter which way we turned.  It was impossible to get over to the freeway, so we drove north a bit, while I navigated with the phone to try to find a way around to get back south.  We turned off into no man’s land, only to find more bumper to bumper traffic in the middle of nowhere.

It seems there had been a huge wreck on the freeway, with both directions closed for many miles.  With some creative navigating, I got us to the exit just before the bridge and we finally got out of the stop and go traffic.  It was an interesting experience…many hours of complicated driving and navigating for an hour or so of relaxing at a nice tavern on the water.

The next morning was our “Seattle Day” and after perusing several options, we decided to attempt a visit to the Chihuly Glass and Gardens show at the Seattle Center.  Neither of us wanted to do the same things we had done in past Seattle visits, aka Pioneer Square, Downtown, Pikes Market, all that “stuff”.  Also on our list was a visit to the Fremont District and the Ballard District, with perhaps a side trip to the Washington Park Arboretum.

It didn’t sound like a big deal or too much of an agenda until we actually got on the Interstate north into downtown Seattle. Bumper to Bumper.  Dead stop.  All roads on the Google Map traffic completely red.  Signs saying the interstate is gridlocked.  So.  Getting off the interstate, we drove downtown on the 99, enjoying the high level view of the city from the Viaduct…the one that needs some serious earthquake protection work, but that is another story.  The Seattle skyline is always magical no matter the vantage point.

As we drove north, thinking we could bypass Seattle Center for the time being, we somehow ended up on 99, considerably west of our Ballard destination, but right in the middle of the Fremont district.  I was trying to navigate with the phone, trying to figure out where to go, when we somehow turned into a tiny side road that led us directly to the famous Troll under the Bridge.  I had read about the troll in years past, but it wasn’t even on our radar for this day of exploration. 

The story of the troll is here, and definitely worth checking out. For us, it was a happy accident and we continued driving through the Fremont feeling as though we had been lucky.  We were in the baby car/Tracker, and even so the streets in the Fremont area are incredibly narrow and tight.

Continuing through the district, we found the corner with the famous statue of Lenin that to this day is controversial.  There is another story behind this statue as well that is interesting.  The alternative culture of the Fremont is evident everywhere, with cannabis shops, art studios, artistic grafitti, and interesting people walking around.

Without a good city map (a paper map!) I had to rely on the phone to try to navigate and without actual addresses it was a bit of a stretch to find “the Ballard District”.  We knew it was somewhere west, so kept driving narrow streets and tight traffic until we came to the Scandinavian Museum.  The Ballard District was originally very Scandinavian, but has since become more upscale urban and I didn’t see a lot of Scandinavian influence.  It was a bit confusing, but we drove most of Market Street.

Once again, this is the kind of neighborhood that requires more time to truly enjoy.  In the rain and with limited time, neither of us were really into the shopping eating and walking kind of thing that should be savored slowly.  Both the Fremont and the Ballard districts would lend themselves well to a B and B stay for a few days with ample time to sample the shops and brews and food.  Still, we at least got a taste, if a tiny one.

The Ballard Locks are in this area as well, and would be another fun place to visit with more time and less rain.

We could see the Space Needle to the south, and managed to navigate to the area, but then finding parking was daunting.  There are several public parking lots and one even had a weekday special for ten bucks.  I knew going in that parking would be difficult and expensive, but somehow when we actually got there neither of us was in the mood to pay a bunch for parking and a bunch more for the exhibition and we just decided to skip it.  I think both of us were getting pretty tired of traffic and crazy circuitous routes by that time.

Thinking perhaps a walk in the Arboretum would be more to our liking, I attempted once again to navigate our way out of downtown Seattle toward the Interstate 5 and Washington Park.  The interstate north wasn’t too bad until we somehow managed to get into the Express lane and couldn’t get off until we crossed a bridge and then had to find our way back south over another bridge. 

When we finally arrived at the spacious green expanse of the Arboretum, we were definitely ready for the calming effect of a walk among the trees. 

I used to love the energy of Seattle, it is a great city.  It is a city that should be seen without a car, arriving on a cruise ship, staying in a downtown hotel, making use of public transportation and walking a lot.  It isn’t a place to go to in a day with a car.  Ever again.  Not for me.  I was exhausted from continually trying to navigate, reroute, navigate again and keep up with the shifts. 

The Arboretum is a treasure, a respite in the midst of a crazy day and we loved every minute we were there.  Again, it is a place that requires much more than just dropping in for a walk.  One could walk here for days and not see all the wonders, especially the 500 varieties of Japanese maples. 

Our respite didn’t last long because we knew that in order to avoid complete gridlock we needed to leave Seattle no later than 2:30.  Daughter Deanna later told me we should have left by 2 at the latest.  I think that would mean we should leave before we get there to avoid traffic.  Deciding to skip I-5 altogether, which was already gridlocked, we drove across the 520 toll bridge (where the fees are only the pay by mail version if you don’t have a pass) to Bellevue and onto the 405 south toward Renton.  Again, bumper to bumper, stop and go…and this was 2:30 in the afternoon on a Wednesday!  By the time we hit Tacoma, it was 3:30 and once again it was stop and go bumper to bumper.

Ignore the google time thing.  WRONG!

We were both starving and I seriously wanted a beer! I searched for and found a brewery not too far off the interstate north of our home destination, and we managed to slip into the Tacoma Mall.  Turns out the brewery was right in the middle of the huge mall and the huge parking lot was very full.  Ack!  Instead, we opted for sliding into the Red Robin parking lot nearby.  With a draft Octoberfest and some kind of southern whiskey hamburger, I finally began to relax, preparing for the next jaunt south on I-5 to our campsite.

Excited about finally getting back home, I prepared for our base gate entrance by getting out our ID.  Fort Lewis is a 100% ID check base.  UhOh.  Mo’s wallet was nowhere to be found.  Seems as though we spent the entire day with her driving and her wallet back on base in the MoHo.  With no clue how we were going to get back on base, we looked at each other and just kept driving.

At the gate, I had said specifically that I would be sure to keep my mouth shut and let Mo do the talking.  Of course, I am nothing if not mouthy at the wrong times, and in spite of my desire to keep my mouth shut, I started blabbering at the guard.  Sheesh.  In spite of my mouth, when Mo fully explained the problem, he let us in the gate, saying, “Just go ahead”.  whew! 

Back to the rig, wallet in hand, we got back in the car to go across to the other side of the base for provisions from the commissary.  Whew again.  Just writing about this day has exhausted me again, so I am not going to continue writing about our trip north to the Port Townsend ferry the next morning, reservations in hand.  Another crazy thing….but that is next.