10-07-2023 Alone in the Lovely Dark at 4AM

Pre-Dawn Mental Meanderings:

 I woke up at 3:30, lying in the silent dark except for the faint orange glow from the bedroom curtains.  The glow is from the deep orange light bulbs for the porch lights that I found at Home Depot last week.  It lends a spooky, perfectly gentle, warm light to early October darkness.  I love October.  I love Halloween, mostly for the happiness-inducing decorations that I put up not a day later than October 1 and sometimes a few days earlier.  I read recently on some news page that putting up fall decor is good for one's mental health, and that orange is a happy color.  

I kept thinking about the month past, September, and could barely remember it.  Talking with my daughter yesterday, she moaned that she had "completely lost September".  I get it.  I think I lost it as well.  Thank goodness I have photos and a calendar to remind me of most of it, but it takes sitting down at the computer, in the dark quiet of pre-dawn, for me to actually remember September.  I don't want to lose my memories, so I write them down. 

On a sunny Friday afternoon in early September, Mo and I enjoyed some music and wine at Schmidt Winery, a favorite.

I take way too many photos, simply to remember.  In this latter part of my seventh decade, I know that remembering isn't what it used to be, so I write.  Somehow, writing this way, in a blog, is so much different than a simple journal.  Here I have to pay attention, I need to be a little bit creative instead of simply tracking the facts.  

So I write about 4AM with a cup of good coffee wandering around the outside of the house, taking photos of the orange lights. The stars were bright and sharp, and the early morning moon was a quarter crescent rising in the east.  Suddenly I was accompanied by coyotes, singing the morning awake.  

Mapping in Nez Perce country along the Clearwater in 1987

Yes, Coyote is a friend of mine.  Coyote said hello to me this morning and it made me smile.  It was in the mid-80s when I was working alone in Coyote country in Idaho that I first realized that I had a special bond with the spirit of Coyote.  It helped that I was also working with the Nez Perce, mapping their lands along the Clearwater River, spending time at the Visitor Center, talking and laughing with Nez Perce leaders, and reading the stories about Coyote and the special bond that the Nez Perce have with this spirit. I dreamed of Coyote often and in my dreams, he would speak to me.  As my life changes, as I forget the magic of those years and live an ordinary life, I forget what that life felt like until I am out in the dark and hear coyotes sing.

Now back to September, and our everyday life. 

Mo and I visited Daughter Deborah at her new magical forest tiny home in Trail early in the month.  After we visited there, Deb followed us back to a fun restaurant that we discovered this summer, with the best patty melt I ever tasted and a cold PBR in the lounge portion of the Triple Tree Restaurant out in the middle of nowhere.

I also had a birthday that I completely forgot until I wrote about it this morning and saw the photos.  I was thrilled to receive the coziest, fluffiest bathrobe I have ever owned for a fabulous birthday present from Mo.  

Mo and Deborah took me to dinner at the finest restaurant here in Grants Pass for a lovely birthday meal.  

The rest of the first part of September was lost in late summer garden chores, me cleaning up and trimming all the overgrown plants, Mo doing maintenance projects on the MoHo trying to figure out the battery problem, and finally ordering a new sealed battery. 

Mo has a goal that she has carried ever since she first bought the MoHo more than fifteen years ago.  She wants to be sure that we get out at least once every month.  It can be for a couple of days or even a simple overnight trip, or like last year, two full months on the road in part of August, all of September, and part of October.  This year we have stayed closer to home.  We decided last year when we returned from the "big trip" to New York City and the East Coast that summer trips during "watering season" would be limited to a few days at most.  We love our home.  I love the flowers and the trees and shrubs that we have planted that are thriving beyond any possible expectation in this Grants Pass zone 7, and maybe even zone 8 with a bit of global warming.  

I have never lived where I could leave a dahlia in the ground and watch it bloom year after year.  It is good to be close in the summer and save the long trips for the seven months of the year that we don't have to think about the well or worry about the flowers.

Our September trip was a special one.  When Mo and I camped just north of Portland on Sauvie Island last spring and visited the small towns where Mo grew up, we thought how much fun it would be to share a camping trip there with Mo's brother and his wife Chere.  We made reservations months ago for Reeder Beach RV Park,  two sites facing the river, side by side, for four days in mid-September.  I looked forward to hearing Mo's stories of growing up along the Columbia River told from Dan's perspective as a young boy growing up in Columbia City, Oregon. 

The drive north was an easy one, with very little traffic on the interstate and perfect weather.  Dan and Chere were already settled into their site when we arrived.  There were fire pits along the edge of the river.  None of us wanted to walk the extra 50 feet or so for a campfire and Dan carried a metal firepit from another site and put it right in between our two rigs.  We used that fire pit every evening, laughing and talking after supper as we watched the boat traffic on the mighty Columbia River.

Mattie loves to camp with Dan and Chere's dog, Sophie.  They play and play and Sophie is so gentle with Mattie, getting down low enough to be on Mattie's level.  

All of us were amazed at the volume of boats that traveled that river day and night.  We saw barges hauling grain that may have originated in the Palouse fields of Eastern Washington, loaded to the barge in Lewsiton, carrying as much grain in a single barge that could be moved by 17 railroad cars. The soft white wheat grown in the great fields of the inner Northwest is coveted by Asian countries for the fine noodles that it makes.  Most of the wheat grown in Washington and Idaho makes its way there by way of the mighty Columbia, and then crossing the Pacific Ocean. 

We saw fancy white paddlewheelers with a big red paddlewheel hauling invisible tourists along the river. We saw not a single person on deck on those boats.  Maybe it was too cold, or maybe it was a dinner cruise and everyone was inside eating.  Who knows.  It was a mystery that we talked about every time one of those boats passed.

Sometimes huge gray ships of unknown origin with indecipherable logos entertained us.  The noise of the boats and ships wasn't especially intrusive, even at night, and I slept like a baby the entire time we were camped. 

The Columbia is a VERY busy river.

On Tuesday, our first full day, we explored the island.  In the morning we traveled north toward the refuge to determine where we might launch our kayaks.  When Mo and I visited last Spring, most of the refuge waters were closed due to nesting migrating birds.  We thought maybe in the late summer there would be fewer closures on the refuge and possibly a place to launch our kayaks.

There are two lakes that show up on the refuge maps, but with a bit of driving we discovered that they may be open to kayaking, but late summer also brings low water and the muck wasn't the least bit inviting.  

We did find a boat launch on the west side of the island on the Multnomah Channel that looked like a possible kayak site.  It was a beautiful day, with full sunshine, but we planned to explore on this first day and then kayak on the next two days.  

An easy walk with the kayaks to launch on the Columbia River

We found a beautiful beach on the Columbia at the far northern extent of the road near the Warrior Rock Lighthouse trail.  We knew that hiking the 3 miles to the lighthouse wasn't an option, but did have a bit of hope that we could make it there in the kayaks.  On this gorgeous day, it might have been possible with the smooth water and no wind. We saved the plan for Thursday when the weather gods predicted another sunny day to follow a rainy Wednesday.

Sophie and Mattie loved running on the sandy beach.  Sophie also loves to swim, but it wasn't enough to tempt Mattie into the water.  The four of us simply sat on the logs enjoying the sunshine and watching more river traffic.

After meandering around some refuge roads near the lakes, we returned to camp for a bit of lunch and some resting time.  

Our afternoon was spent exploring the southern half of the island, where there are many flower and pumpkin farms, and one especially inviting place with u-pick flowers, a coffee shop, a gift shop, and a big produce store.  

I bought an especially delightful striped squash that was much too beautiful to eat and ended up as part of the October decor at home.

The flowers on the island are gorgeous, with all sorts of creative displays adorning the roadways. The afternoon was perfect, and once we were back home, Dan and Chere took their chairs out to the riverside to watch the boats going by.

Those beautiful puffy white clouds were a precursor to a beautiful rain that started falling during the night and continued into the next day.  It was a perfect time for the four of us to drive north to Columbia City where Dan and Mo grew up.  

Mo and I took so many pictures of the family home the last time we traveled this way that I didn't think to do so on this trip.  Still, Dan was amazed at how well the old house had held up so beautifully and is well cared for.

As we drove around Columbia City and St Helens, Dan told many stories of his memories of growing up along the banks of the Columbia River.  In a family with 2 girls and 3 boys,  you can imagine the "boy stories" that we heard.  We topped off the afternoon with a late lunch/early dinner at the Pour House on the Old Portland Highway, a comfortable tavern where Dan was fairly certain their father stopped for a beer now and then after work.

We knew that there was only one day of rainy weather before the sun was to return on Thursday.  We left early to launch the boats at the location we found at the lighthouse trail.  The water was a bit choppy due to the morning winds, but we launched without incident, hoping to make it to the lighthouse.

Dan was a bit worried that Sophie, being a water dog that loved to swim, might try to jump off the kayak.  She was perfect, and now Dan doesn't have to worry any more about taking her out in the boat.  He told us later that he had been worrying about this for days before the actual trip.

What I didn't consider, however, was the effect of an upriver wind combined with an incoming tide and a downriver current.  Those three things coming together made for a bit of a rough ride, and after a mile or so Dan and Chere decided to turn around.  I was getting a bit nervous with the choppy water, but Mo paddled on ahead of me and I did my best to keep up.

Mo looked back and saw me with a very large ship bearing down on me.  Of course, neither of us could hear each other, but we managed to get our boats to the shoreline in time to be ready for the wave from the ship.  Suddenly it felt like the movies when a tidal wave approaches. With the approaching boat, the water receded and suddenly our boats were sitting on the muddy bottom of the river.  Seconds later the big wave came back toward us.  I was extremely glad that we weren't out on the river when that boat passed us.  But with that bit of excitement, we decided we had enough of the Mighty Columbia and a kayak trip to the Warrior Rock Lighthouse would have to wait for another day, a day that would be less challenging without the tides and wind.

Mo and Mattie on the river and if you look closely you can see the Warrior Rock Lighthouse on the peninsula in the distance on the right side of the photo.

We returned to camp, worn out but happy that we had managed to get the boats in the water at least once on this trip.  The evening campfire started early and ended late into the evening after a joint meal of burgers on the grill and good conversation. 

One very special thing about Dan is his willingness to help with any kind of mechanical problem that might be a bit too much for Mo to handle alone.  Mo brought the new battery she had purchased for the MoHo and Dan said he was happy to help install it.  We decided that I would take the car and Mattie and go home to Grants Pass and Mo would follow Dan home to their place in Beavercreek.  Dan and Mo worked on the rig, installing the battery, doing generator maintenance and tune-up, and a couple of other things.  With such difficulty finding anyone to actually work on a motorhome without a long wait, it is truly wonderful to have such help.  

Late September was beautiful, with a gorgeous soaking rain and cooler temperatures than we rarely see this early in the season.  It was such a relief to see the thirsty pasture grass soak up the moisture and begin the return to the beautiful, soft green that I love.  

08-29-2023 to 08-31-2023 A Perfect Escape to the Mountains

Waking to smoky skies over Medicine Lake

 We woke early with the smell of smoke strong in the air. Sitting in the camp chairs by the campfire this morning I watched the stillness of the lake shrouded in the smoke. The campfire rings in this campground are gorgeous, made of the dark volcanic rock that surrounds the caldera.

Beautiful firepits at the Hogue Campground

I don't know who built these fireplaces, but they are huge and strong, angled with the taller side facing the wind coming from the lake. They remind me of some of the CCC rock work we have seen throughout the country but I never read anything about the CCC working in this area.

At first, I thought the gloom was morning fog, but no, it was actually smoke. Thick enough that the far side of the lake about a mile from us looked very vague, with just a hint of the meadow there that we often paddle to in the kayaks. The outside temperature at the lake this morning was 38F and inside the MoHo it was a brisk 49 degrees. We turned on the furnace and let it run awhile. Our house batteries are acting a bit strange, with nothing but the fridge running overnight and our juice down to 11.9, so we started up the generator.

Mo took Mattie for a nice walk around the campground while I cooked a sausage/ English muffin sandwich for our breakfast. When we first got up, the lake was glassy smooth, and yet before 9AM a slight breeze from the west ruffled the surface. We bantered a bit about whether we should go out on the lake or not, with the smoke and the breeze, but decided to let the temps warm a bit more before we went out on the lake.

Mo and Mattie walking through the Hogue Campground

In the meantime, we walked the campground together, paying attention to which reserved sites were level enough that we might be able to park the MoHo comfortably. At the upper part of Hogue Campground, there are two very large, very level sites that would be adequate for a big rig. Site 55 and Site 56 are roomy, but neither of them has a lake view other than a tiny sliver of water seen through the trees.

Medicine, Hogue, and Hemlock campgrounds are on the north side of the lake

There are a few things that we love to do when visiting Medicine Lake. Kayaking is our favorite, but the beautiful trails at Glass Mountain are a short drive north. On this day we decided that we could do both.

Still breezy but the smoke is thinning

We aren't a fan of kayaking in the wind, but the breeze coming from the west on the lake wasn't terribly strong and we launched our boats easily. We had brought them down from the car the night before so that we would be ready. There is a large log that is conveniently close to the water where we can tie up the boats and not have to bring them up until we are ready to load up for home at the end of the week.

Crystal clear waters of Medicine Lake

We can kayak all the way around the lake in about two hours, but with the breeze decided that a shorter trip to the west side of the lake against the wind and then returning with the wind behind us was the best plan for the morning. As always, it felt fabulous to be on the lake once again. I think it is our favorite. When we were at East Lake last month we thought maybe it was our favorite, but no, Medicine Lake has a special sweetness that is hard to put into words.

There is a spiritual quality to this place that feels as though all the spirits of all the indigenous people who have camped and fished and hunted here are all around us, doing their magic on anyone who cares to pay attention.

Mo in her kayak way ahead of me as we approach our campsite near the shore

It was lovely to be on the water but we were happy to get back home in time for lunch and a bit of a rest from the wind. Our next outing for the day was a visit to Glass Mountain.

Glass Mountain Obsidian Flow (from the USGS website)

We have been to Glass Mountain several times over the last couple of decades that we have visited Medicine Lake, but it never fails to be a thrill to walk among the sparkling rocks and listen to the clink of obsidian as we walk. Needless to say, we don't take Mattie with us when walking the trails in this area, with the sharp shards of obsidian that could tear up her footpads.

Glass Mountain is a spectacular, nearly treeless, steep-sided obsidian flow that erupted just outside the eastern caldera rim and flowed down the steep eastern flank of Medicine Lake volcano. The Glass Mountain flow, draped over the east side of the volcano, is the youngest lava flow at the volcano, erupting less than 1,000 years ago.

Two sticks and decent walking shoes helped me get up the trail

I knew that parts of the trail were steep, but once up the steepest part, things level out nicely, although most of the trail is rocky and uneven. The trails meander around the flow in different directions, but like a magnet, the dark shining outcrop of black obsidian draws us toward it every time.

Hard to capture the brilliant shine of the obsidian in a photo

Me attempting to take a selfie with the black rock in the background without falling

Mo waited while I walked up to the outcrop, then asked if I wanted her to take my photo. I really didn't want to walk back to her, so instead tried for a selfie. Here is the selfie, and the next photo is Mo smiling at me while I attempt to take the selfie without tipping over.

Mo hiking the rocky trail at Glass Mountain

Mo hiking up one of the more level trails around Glass Mountain

We chose to return to camp taking the road that circles around Lyons Peak to the east where we were treated to a spectacular view of the desert and the extent of the smoke plume which had receded a bit since we began our day.

View from Lyons Peak toward the eastern Oregon

It was wonderful to see that the smoke had cleared at Medicine Lake by the time we returned and we settled in for another wonderful supper and another perfect campfire as we watched the sunset over the lake.

The next morning when we woke it was a brisk 33 Degrees F. The batteries were low again, reading 11.6, and we turned on the generator at 7, hopefully not disturbing anyone. I was glad the sites were far enough apart that it wasn't much of a worry.

The water was mirror smooth, without the slightest breeze to mar the perfect, smoke-free air. I picked 40F as the breaking point for getting out on the water, and sure enough we reached that temperature by 9:30 AM. We again headed west on the lake, this time aiming for the shallow water that supports an amazing floating garden of pink knotweed, sometimes called smartweed.

My hot pink kayak floating in a bed of smartweed.

I love floating around in the pink flowers inside my pink boat. Makes me all happy inside. Mattie used to be a bit hesitant in the kayak but on this trip, she decided that kayaking was great fun and jumped right into Mo's boat even before we got into the water.

Mo got out on the beach and let Mattie run around a bit while I paddled around enjoying the simplicity of just floating gently on the lake looking for fish beneath the flower carpet. It was a spectacular morning.

Mo and Mattie on Medicine Lake

We followed the shore past the old cabin on the south shore and then crossed the lake to get home. It wasn't too windy but that beautiful glassy surface was a bit ruffled on our way back. I figured out an even easier way to exit my kayak. If I am deep enough in the water, I can use my sticks to push up from the boat. Works well if there isn't current or it isn't windy, and if Mo can keep my boat from floating away. Whatever works!

Our camp in the distance across the lake

Once back home we settled in for a quiet morning reading in the sunshine before lunch. One of the finer luxuries of camping is the nice nap I took with Mattie until 2 or so when Mo and I decided that a drive up to the Little Hoffman Lookout would be a perfect way to celebrate the beautifully clear afternoon. I wanted to see if smoke was still visible to the north and west of us.

Mt Shasta visible toward the west of Little Hoffman Mountain

It is about 5 miles of curvy dirt road to get to the lookout. We used to be able to drive to the top, but now they are locking the gate at the bottom of the steepest part of the road leading to the lookout. I read that they are now renting out the lookout for overnight camping for $75 per night. We hiked up the road to the top and were thrilled to see that all around us on all sides the skies were beautifully clear.

Mo and Mattie at the Little Hoffman Lookout

The view from the top was gorgeous with most of the smoke pushed toward the northwest beyond Klamath Falls. My legs were screaming by the time we got back to the car but I loved the hike so much.

The lava flow below on the left side of the photo is Little Glass Mountain

Mt Shasta and Little Glass Mountains from Little Hoffman Mountain

Back in camp, we settled in for more reading till dinnertime. I cooked burgers and made mac salad before we settled in for our last campfire of the trip and watched fish jumping until the full moon rose shortly after sunset.

Once again I got up around midnight to see the full moon and saw the constellation Cassiopeia directly overhead. Cassiopeia is a constellation we love to track through our skies at home as we sit in the hot tub at night.

We slept well on our last night at the lake, waking again to chilly temperatures in the low 30s. This time the generator was down to 9.6. Pretty sure this means we are due for new batteries for the MoHo. A side effect of the low battery output is the obnoxious beeping of the CO detectors every time we run the generator. We decided that if the temperature rose to 40F by 9am we would go kayaking one more time.

The people who owned this boat went fishing every day

Handy boat storage log

Sure enough, with the skies clear and the water silky smooth, we paddled once again on our favorite lake. This time we traveled east along the shoreline in front of the campgrounds, explored the swim beach and the local boat launch, and paddled as far as the meadow before turning back toward camp.

Silky smooth water and the meadow to the left

It didn't take us long to load the kayaks and get the MoHo ready to roll. We left the campground before the official checkout time at 12 and traveled back through Klamath Falls toward home.

The closer we got to Klamath, the more smoke was in the air, although it wasn't nearly as bad as it had been on our way through earlier in the week. We stopped at the cemetery to put some flowers on a family gravesite before continuing around Klamath Lake toward the mountains.

The egrets seemed to like the barrier

A somewhat shocking moment came as we saw the construction taking place along the narrow highway near Howard Bay on Klamath. Usually, this part of the lake is a resting and feeding spot for hundreds of white pelicans, great egrets, snowy egrets, many types of ducks and geese, and grebes.

Howard Bay on Klamath Lake adjacent to HWY 140

The road is quite narrow and it seems that people don't recognize the need to slow down as they navigate the curves adjacent to the lake. There have been repeated accidents with cars going into the water, and some deaths. It still made me sad to see the devastation along the lake as they widen the highway. The floor of the lake is soft silt and it takes a lot of rock to fill it in.

I will close with a photo from days past on Howard Bay.