JOURNAL: We have traveled north on Highway 97 so many times that it’s hard to feel as though we are really finally on our big road trip. Leaving the house at a few minutes before eight, we were right on schedule as planned. The weather was perfect as well, with cool morning temperatures. There was a prediction of frost after midnight, but I didn’t see any sign of frozen flowers this morning.
The drive was uneventful, with Mo driving and me knitting. I am working on a little cap to match the scarf I knitted from some really fabulous thick and thin hand dyed yarn in shades of purples, blues, and greens. It kept me entertained as we followed the stick straight road through the lodgepole pines. If we had never been on this route before, we may have thought that there was something of interest to see. A few miles north of Chiloquin and the KlaMoYa Casino is Collier State Park, with a logging museum and the lovely Williamson River and the clear spring run from Blue Springs just a half mile west of the highway. Once up the hill to the pumice plateau, the lodgepole is dominant, and on the west you can see Mt Scott and Mt Thielson of the high Cascades.
However, for us the most exciting thing this morning was breakfast. Again we stopped at the Diamond Lake Junction for a great if sinful breakfast of chicken fried steak and eggs. This little place is becoming more and more well known, and on the tables under glass are hand written notes from people from all over the world touting the great food. One person suggested that they need to be on the food channel, and I would imagine that someday they will get there, maybe on Dives and Diners or some such.
Once we headed north again, I was entertained by knitting and fiddling with the new NUVI GPS that I bought for this trip. I tested it during the last few weeks, getting used to the buttons and commands, so it doesn’t have many surprises. It’s entertaining, (on a long flat straight road) to fiddle with the trip computer, and see just what path Garmin Girl thinks we should follow to get from here to there. Garmin Girl has been silenced, however, since she makes Mo crazy when she is constantly “recalculating” and of course, that happens every time we decide to make a detour. I think we will love Garmin Girl much more when we are on roads we don’t know as well as this one.
We also stopped at Bi-Mart in LaPine to pick up some incidentals, and at the Biggs Junction for gas, the last gas we will have pumped for us on this trip, I believe. One of the delights of Oregon, at least for some of us, is that we don’t pump our own gas. It’s often frustrating to outsiders to have to wait around for a service person, but it is easy to get used to when you live in Oregon. North of Bend the landscape is dry and open, especially this time of year. I found it hard to really appreciate it, and kept waiting for the good road trip feeling to settle in. Finally, going down the grade into Biggs Junction, I got a taste of it. At last, on the road again. The dark massive basalt columns were a dramatic contrast to dry yellow grasses on the hills. Coming around a curve, we could see the peaks of two volcanoes, and sometimes Rainier would come into view as well. There is a place in the road, just before Shaniko, that is called the “mountain finder”, with a large stone circle with the volcanoes named facing the direction to identify them. Again, we have been there several times and it was on the other side of the road so we didn’t stop. We also didn’t stop for the tiny town of Shaniko, almost a ghost town, where we once explored the old buildings and had great ice cream cones. I feel jaded somehow, frustrated with how bored I am with this landscape, and ready for something that I can’t predict to come around the corner. Soon.
Biggs Junction used to be such a landmark for me, coming from Spokane on those long drives to California 30 years ago. It seemed so far away, a bit romantic. The bridge across the Columbia, the MaryHill Museum across the river, fascinating and lovely, the replica of Stonhenge. There is a lot to see here, but only if you haven’t seen it a bunch of times in the past. We are in a rush to somewhere, but certainly not Spokane, where we have been before as well. How many years of traveling does it take to get tired of all the roads that are available to you? I wonder.
How many miles will pass before we see something that isn’t familiar and predictable. Maybe once we get to Bonner’s Ferry, once we are traveling along Highway 2 in Montana. Yes, I have been there too, but it has been a dozen years at least. Maybe things will seem new and fresh when we get to Montana at least. Maybe by the time we leave there and drive along the Kootenai River to Libby things will seem fresh, and this traveling will feel like a road trip.
I have no idea what that feeling really is for RV’rs who travel the United States year around. It’s a small country after all, and there just aren’t that many roads to find after 65 years of traveling it. But maybe I am full of it, maybe when we cross Montana into North Dakota and Minnesota, and into Canada it will seem fresh and new and I will at least really be glad that we are on the road.
But. In the mean time, after settling in to the campground at LePage this evening, we made some pea soup, or I should say I opened a can of pea soup, put in some ham from Easter in the freezer, and sautéed some garlic bread. We ate outside on the picnic table, cleaned up, and played some cards. Our site is near perfect, especially for one night, a pull through, level and on the water with a picnic table. We didn’t even need to unhook or take out the awning since the sun was on the other side. We have hookups here, and when the fan didn't do the job, we turned on the air conditioning.
Jeremy, the cat, has been in and out a bit, and sat with us while we played cards. Later Mo went for a walk and I wrote on the laptop. When she returned, Jeremy was sitting on the MoHo steps, big as you please, watching the water quietly. somehow he got out of his carrier and decided to come outside with me. whew. I was lucky he didn’t run off. I didn't even know he was there, and the door was wide open. I don’t want to lose a cat on this trip, so will have to be more vigilant for sure.
We have no big plans tomorrow, except to see Mo’s brother, Don, who seems to be busy with different sorts of things, but will still come down to Riverside State Park to meet us. Mo is going indoors now, and I will follow. I still feel a bit strange from the Zyrtec I had to take this morning. Hay fever hit me hard as we were leaving, and I couldn’t stop sneezing. Yukky. It’s better now, so hopefully I left whatever was the trigger behind me in Rocky Point.
My computer screen is weird as well, so that’s a bit worrisome. Sigh. Would be nice if things just worked without glitches….sigh again. It’s a power thing, obviously, since as soon as I unplug it, the screen goes very dark and I can’t seem to find how to turn it up. anywhere. Cars on the freeway, trains going by, river lapping against the rocks here beside our campsite. Twilight on the John Day River, pink skies in the east reflected from the unseen sunset. Tomorrow should be a good day, another familiar day driving familiar roads to familiar places. But it is certainly better than driving I-5!! through the San Joaquin Valley. Gak. Yes, this is better by far, even if familiar.
Comments Saved:
From Laurie and Odel: Sue, we've been traveling over 7 years. The longer we travel, the more I realize how much there is to see. I agree with you that some roads - those you know well from local travels over the years - become boring, especially if there isn't much to see. That's how we feel about I-5 between Sacramento and Redding, for instance, and both Hwy 99 and I-5 down California's central valley.
But we've spent a lot of time in Oregon and aren't bored yet! Even the Napa/Sonoma area of CA still delights us after many, many visits there. This year's trip, through mostly new territory... all I can say is that we could spend another 7 years traveling and not see it all or get tired of it!
One reason, which you don't really "get" until you are fulltiming, is that you slow WAY DOWN and explore a lot more. So many scenic drives! So many unknown side roads! The slower you go, the more you see, and the more you realize there is to see. Don't worry, you wouldn't get bored. :)
Abby loves to swim as always.
Another side trip for the two of us to the LaPine State Park where we check out the history big pine.
Tucked away in the Cascades, north of Highway 58, is a lake that is referred to as the “Gem of the Cascades”. Mo and I have thought often about traveling the three hours or so to this beautiful lake to camp, but for many different reasons, we never quite made it until now. Waldo Lake, although truly beautiful, is also very well known for it’s mosquito population. People who know Waldo warn that the only good time to camp there is in late summer and early fall. However, we thought that with a motorhome for protection, and our desire to be out on the water in the kayaks, it wouldn’t be too much for us to handle. Besides, it will give us some good practice for Minnesota and the northern Lake Superior region later this season.
We left by 9 this morning, and made it to the Diamond Lake Junction cafe just in time to savor another fabulous breakfast. The small tables are adorned with handwritten notes from diners all over the country, touting the wonderful food and friendly people who run this tiny, inconspicuous little restaurant. The cook laughed when we shared our “Bigfoot” breakfast and still needed a good sized to-go box for the part we couldn’t finish. 
Our site was adjacent to the bike trail along the lake, and just a few hundred feet down a gentle slope to our own little sandy beach. We set up camp, sprayed ourselves down with DEET, and checked out the surroundings. The sky was brilliant, the forest deep and rich. The trees were dominantly Western Hemlock and Shasta Fir, with an understory of dwarf huckleberry, a good indication of the cold moist climate at this high elevation. Our view of Waldo Lake was lovely and we took some time to settle in, relax under the trees in our comfy chairs and appreciate all the perfect amenities of our camp, including a really solid, big picnic table in just the right position by our awning, and a fire circle close by.
Mo and I have mountain bikes, but I don’t think we would qualify as mountain bikers. The first part of the trail was nice, but as it ascended to Taylor Mountain it got a lot rougher, with roots and rocks in the path, and some very winding twists among the huge trees. We rode a little bit beyond the Waldo Campground and then gave up and headed back to camp. Still, it was a nice ride.
The main reason for coming to this lake, of course, was the kayaking, and I was excited to get out on the legendary clear water. Waldo Lake is nestled into volcanic andesite rock, and is the second deepest lake in Oregon, second only to Crater Lake. 
It is pristine, with some of the purest water in the world, and a recent decision by the forest service to exclude gasoline engines from the lake will help to keep it that way. The lake has no natural inlets to bring in any kind of sediment or pollutants, and fish stocking ceased in 1990. 
There is very little plant growth, and no algae anywhere. As we paddled along the shore, the views were breathtaking, and the water was as clear as any I have ever seen. The colors reminded me of the Caribbean, with rich deep turquoise and cobalt blues that were nearly impossible to photograph. The wind came up as we headed back across the lake to our camp, and the sheer size of the lake was impressive. It was a truly amazing experience to have this huge lake and pristine forest almost entirely to ourselves.
We woke early to a morning chill, had some tea and little donuts before getting out on the glassy lake. Down on the beach it was a fight between us and the mosquitoes, and I think they could have carried our boats off if they wanted to. We launched and paddled like crazy to get away from them and for a bit I thought it was going to be a losing battle. Once we rounded the jetty, however, the winds picked up and we left the bothersome bugs behind. Again, our paddle was gorgeous, the water incredible, the views of the surrounding mountains magnificent. The pristine clarity comes with a price, however, and we noticed that there were no water birds around anywhere. The entire time we were there, we saw just a tiny little duck family by the boat launch. As much as I loved the clarity, I really missed the birds. Our murky Klamath Lake certainly isn’t as pristine, but it teems with life everywhere. 
Our spot at Islet Campground, number 42, was probably the very best spot in the entire area. We hope to go back again sometime in the fall, but have also heard that these camps get very busy when the bug season lets up. 
We wandered around town a bit and decided that taking a Duck Boat tour around the city might be a nice way to spend a good part of the day. 
The tour was fun, going to Lake Washington for the obligatory water entry, and then returning in time for us to find some supper before heading for the airport. 
As with the last post, I am writing this in 2021, and not surprisingly, my memory of that day is quite vague.