Home
Weblog
Schedule
Contact Us
Sponsors
Pictures
Gather
FAQ
|
Main
We pulled in around 2 pm today, having taken an easy morning. We only had about 80 miles to drive today, which is much more pleasant than the miles we've been putting on lately.
It happens that the Museum of the National Road is in Richmond, IN, just a mile or so from where we parked last night. I have been working with a freelance writer on an article about the National Road, so it was fortuitous indeed that we were there. We dropped by and took some photos, and got a chance to meet the staff. You'll probably see that article -- and today's photos -- in the Fall or Winter issue of Airstream Life.
Now we are in the Airstream Terra Port, which is the courtesy parking that Airstream provides on its grounds for customers. If you are a service customer, it's free, otherwise $10 per night (honor system). All the sites are full hookup and Airstream provides free wi-fi too. Not bad.
Airstreams on the assembly line, May 2004. Click for larger
After Eleanor and I got a few hours of work done this morning, we packed up a picnic lunch and headed to Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park, about 50 miles west of here.
Along the way we saw all the great campgrounds we would have liked to have stayed in this week. The Blue Mesa Reservoir starts just a few miles west of town and there are several great National Park and commercial campgrounds right along side it.
A little further down, we spotted a pair of vintage Airstreams parked in a tiny roadside campground. Linda Hogan was there reading a book next to a burbling stream. We last met Linda in Sisters OR at the vintage rendezvous just before the International Rally. She and her fellow travelers will be at the Rocky Mtn Vintage Rally later this week.
Once again, Colorado has amazed us with its splendid scenery. Just the drive along Rt 50 is worth the effort, but then once you arrive at Black Canyon of the Gunnison NP, the vertical scale of the canyon is downright stunning. My pictures can't possibly do justice to the incredible overlooks. The walls of the canyon are decorated with crazy lines of pinkish pegmatite amidst the darker schist.
This is our kind of park -- uncrowded, photogenic, and remote. We spent over an hour in the Visitor Center alone, and of course Emma scored another Junior Ranger badge -- her 13th, I think.
By the time we left, it was past six and we had to hustle to get back to camp by 7:30. I grabbed a quick bite for dinner and headed up to a nearby Recreation Area with Rich C to get some sunset photos.
The light and the scenery were unbelievable at sunset -- a photographer's paradise. Both Rich C and I shot dozens of photos while we were up there. All of these photos were shot without filters.
The area is riddled with mountain bike trails, 4WD trails, and fantastic rock spires. We may go up again tomorrow, since it is only five minutes from the campground. The dirt roads generally require a high-clearance vehicle, but they go on "forever" according to the locals, from the recreation area to BLM land to National Forest. We'll take the Nissans and go exploring.
Perhaps we are turning the corner on luck. Our drive along I-80 in Wyoming was uneventful, which lately is unusual for us. We stopped and checked those darn lug nuts at 10, 20, 30, 50, 70, 100, 150, and 200 miles. At the first few stops, 2 or 3 of the new ones I installed would move a tiny bit, but eventually they all seated and stopped moving. That’s normal, according to everyone I talked to.
So hey – I fixed my own trailer and I got 200 miles without a problem. And now I know exactly what to do if this problem ever recurs. That’s a great feeling!
The only bad luck today was at the last lug nut check. After I checked them, the new torque wrench fell apart in my hands. Apparently one of two screws that holds the assembly together vibrated out during travel. It has disappeared. The other fell out roadside and the next thing I knew, little springs and cogs were sprinkling down by my feet. We gathered all the pieces for re-assembly, but I may buy a better quality torque wrench instead.
If that’s the worst thing that happens, I’ll be grateful. Hopefully I can turn this blog back to the enjoyable part of traveling. (Although I must admit there’s a unique satisfaction in having rescued oneself, by doing a repair on your own trailer with your own hands …as long as the opportunity doesn’t present itself too often!)
I-80 in Wyoming is a vast arid landscape dotted with gas tanks and other signs of the petrochemical industry. The Green River Valley area is the hub of oil shale in this country, and we saw plenty of action out there. Further east, there’s a refinery in Sinclair, and all along the Interstate there are yellow Union Pacific diesel-electric locomotives running east-west with long trains behind them.
I suppose some people would call this landscape boring, but I liked it. I guess today I would have liked any landscape that we were not broken down in.
The camping options along I-80 are horrible. Most of the campgrounds are desolate gravel parking lots right next to the highway, with the requisite noise all night long, and sites so jam-packed you can reach out and touch your neighbor. For a view, choose from Interstate highway or oil tanks.
We were flying without a plan today, because we honestly didn’t know how far we’d get. By 4 pm we were in Laramie and I decided to follow Garminita’s advice to take Rt 287 south from there into Colorado. It looked like a nice scenic and quiet roadway, which might present interesting boondocking possibilities.
That was a great decision, if I do say so myself. Take Rt 287 south from Wyoming sometime. Once the road crosses into Colorado, you enter the most marvelous landscape of layered and eroded rocks, stacked like pancakes among the evergreen landscape. It is beautiful, open, and unpopulated. I kept thinking, “Why isn’t there a state or national park here?” It’s that nice.
About 20-30 miles into Colorado, somewhere between Virginia Dale and Livermore, we passed a white sign that said, “Cherokee Park.” WHOA. I hit the brakes, made a U-turn, and down the red dirt Cherokee Park Road we went.
I was hoping we’d make another “find” like we did last October in Iowa when we found a little county park way out in the farmlands, and had one of the most lovely nights of boondocking we’ve ever enjoyed. We had no information on this Cherokee Park other than the sign: no idea where to find it, how far down the road it would be, whether we could park there overnight, or even if we’d be able to turn around. But if you want to find the places “off the beaten path” you’ve got to be willing to take a chance on the unknown.
The red road twists among the fantastic rock formations, and climbs briefly at what I would guess is about a 10-12% grade. We had to switch to 4WD mode to keep the rear wheels from slipping. About 6-8 miles along, Cherokee Park Road descends and brings you by a dirt parking area with a set of signs that identifies the Cherokee State Wildlife Area, Lower Unit.
Parking in the lot is OK for up to 14 days, according to the signs. You can leave your rig unattended for 48 hours to go exploring. This is horse country, but an ATV would work well too. The scenery is fantastic. The spot is quiet and isolated. It’s great boondocking, and if we had more time I am certain the hiking would be superb as well.
One caveat: you are supposed to have a “Habitat” sticker to use this area. We’ll buy one, to atone for our minor sin of parking here without one. I think buying a sticker which supports the preservation and access to such beautiful lands is a small price to pay.
There’s only analog cell phone service here (and not much of that), so this blog entry will be posted in the morning as we head to Aurora CO. Other than running some backups on the computer and typing up this entry, I’m taking a night off. After all the stress of the past few days, I need a little break before the work week begins. This seems like a nice place to relax.
Now I have to take back a lot of what I said yesterday. I said Victor doesn't have any Internet -- but in fact there's a lot of free wi-fi all over town. I'm in the public library now, which has the fastest public Internet I've ever experienced. And everyone in the downtown area has an open wireless network, so there's plenty to borrow. Rich C asked around and nobody seems to worry about it.
I also put my blog entry in the category of "Places to Avoid", but I was really thinking of the Teton Pass. Avoid that with a trailer. But Victor ID, and the nearby town of Driggs, are really wonderful places to visit. We are in the midst of a huge valley, on the west side of the Tetons. Here the jagged peaks of the Tetons are mostly hidden behind rounder green foothills. The view is vast and gorgeous, with dry clear air and lovely sunsets over the low mountains to the west.
The people are friendly, there are no mosquitoes, and there seems to be little pollen this time of year. Eleanor and Rich C are loving it. Emma likes the swimming pool and the foosball table (we all had a foosball tournament last night.) So we've decided to stay a few more days to catch up on work and enjoy the fine weather.
But everywhere there are the subtle signs of a place with a real estate boom ready to happen. There's a Sotheby's Real Estate office in both Victor and Driggs. The highway has been widened in the towns. New development is happening everywhere, with large parcels of land already sprouting golf courses and huge "rustic-style" log homes. The tourist atmosphere of Jackson seems ready to spread to this side of the mountains.
We'd consider buying some land here if it were a place with a warm winter, but they get plenty of snow here and snow no longer interests me. This won't be a place we settle down, but it is a peaceful spot to hang out in the summer. I hope Victor and Driggs can remain quiet little western towns for a long time, but I think the folks at the Highway Department, Sotheby's, and the two log home companies on Rt 33, are all working to change that.
Last night, after I finished working in Jackson at the music/tattoo/Internet/cafe, we drove around the Victor/Driggs area to explore. One of our "finds" was the local Spud Drive-In Movie Theater, with the biggest potato we've ever seen.
I also dropped in our neighbors who work-camp here. Spencer was a lawyer for 40 years in Minneapolis, but retired and re-trained as a barber. Once he had his Master Barber's License, he and his wife Ingrid hit the road in their fifth wheel. They spend every winter in Mazatlan Mexico, and summers here in Victor. Ingrid works in the office and Spencer does other duties, in addition to providing good haircuts for $10. It was a unique experience for me to get a haircut under the awning of an RV on a warm summer afternoon, and chatting with Spencer about his winters in Mexico made it even better.
I have to admit that I arrived in Yellowstone with less than the appropriate attitude. Part of it was my fault: I never took the time to research the park before we arrived, and so I was repeatedly surprised by things that I should have expected.
As we passed through the North Entrance, I was expecting to drive a few miles to our campground and settle in before the thunderstorms arrived. But Yellowstone is a park the size of Connecticut, and so I should not have been surprised to see a sign advising us that the drive to Bridge Bay Campground was 62 miles further down a twisting road with a speed limit of 35-45 MPH.
Along the way, we passed through Mammoth Hot Springs, the northernmost of several "villages" that exist inside the park. To visit a park the size of Yellowstone (we belatedly discovered) you need to pick an area you want to explore and then choose a village nearby. Otherwise, you'll spend all day driving around the park. It is typically 35-50 miles between villages, and traffic sometimes moves slowly in the peak months of July and August.
Bison can cause huge backups in the summer
It moves even slower when a bison crosses the road. We got caught in a series of thunderstorms, with small hail -- which always strikes fear into the heart of an Airstream owner -- and then of course, a bison showed up somewhere, and all traffic stopped dead. There's nothing like watching hail hit your trailer in a mile-long traffic jam with no way to escape. So we arrived much later than we expected, and I was not feeling very upbeat about it.
We found Susan and Adam in their campground, 2 miles from ours, but they had decided to depart in the morning, so that was the last we saw of them. We were sorry to see them go, but glad they felt they had a great adventure with us the past ten days.
Knowing that crowds and traffic were going to be problems, we woke at 5:30 the next morning so we could get to a Ranger-guided hike at 7:00, about ten miles away. We figured the early start time would allow us to see lots of wildlife, and it would keep the crowds away. We were wrong on both counts. Over fifty people showed up, and the fog was so dense we couldn't see anything most of the time. There's no chance of spotting much wildlife with fifty people tromping around anyway ...
Dropping in on the other roadside sights worked better for us. We hit the Sulphur Cauldron, the Mud Pots, and a few geysers, did a little more hiking, and then we started to feel that you can only look at so much belching mud in one day. We collapsed in the trailer for lunch and a nap (for me).
In the afternoon we were surprised by Wendimere "The Health Chic" and Bill, who we had met in Salem just a couple of weeks ago. We spent an hour chatting with them and talked about meeting up again in Florida, where they live. From here the plan is a quiet evening in, some movies, and early bedtime ... because tomorrow will be another early day.
You may have noticed that I didn't post last night. There's a good reason for that: total exhaustion. Following Bert's recommendation, we all got up at 6 a.m. and were driving toward Glacier by 7:30, to beat the crowds. Glacier is getting sadly overcrowded on the only road that goes through the park, namely "Going To The Sun Road." An early start saves a lot of time by avoiding the traffic.
One of our first views from the hike. Click to enlarge
Now, the plan was supposed to be that we would spot a car at a hairpin turn in Going To The Sun Road, then proceed up to the Visitor's Center at Logan Pass, and hike generally downhill for about eight miles along the Highline Trail back to the first car. However, Bert somewhat underestimated the mileage for the hike ... which turned out to be about 12 miles ... and also neglected to mention that about 1/3 of the hike was along trail with 1,000 foot drops along the left edge.
This made for a spectacular view, but a nerve-wracking hike for Eleanor and I. Emma is a superb hiker, and can easily cover six miles in a half day, but we've never even dreamed of taking her 12 miles! Plus, we had to hold her hand tightly through some tricky spots. I was envisioning her slipping down the nearly-vertical slope and jumping down after her, so at times my grip was tight.
Lake McDonald in the background. Click to enlarge
But Emma was a trouper. Not only did she safely hike 12 miles with 600 feet of vertical gain and 2900 feet of descent, on a day that approached 90 degrees, but she did it in good spirits ... wearing sandals. (I was wearing sandals too, and neither of us had a blister or even a sore toe.) Not bad for a six-year-old, eh? We're very proud of her, and our hiking partners Adam, Susan, and Bert were very impressed. Bert was so impressed that wrote about Emma in his blog, which you can read by clicking here.
Mountain Goats resting nearby. Click to enlarge.
This was more than a hike, it was an adventure. Bert, being a former ranger in the park, was full of interesting information about the wildlife, plants, geology, and history of the park. We really got more than our money's worth out of the day.
The historic chalet, about 6.7 miles down the hike. Click to enlarge.
The best thing about this hike may have been the ending: just a few hundred feet short of the trail's end, when we were all hot and sticky, we found this superb cool stream. I immediately ran down and dunked my head in the water. Ahhhhhhh.... Bert and Adam quickly followed suit, and Emma filled her hat with water and poured it over her head. At point, we all felt refreshed enough to hike a few more miles.
I have posted an entire new album of photos from this hike on Flickr. Click here to see the pictures. If you can't browse the pictures now, suffice to say that Glacier is a wonderful park, huge, gorgeous, and filled with waterfalls from the melting snow.
Another view from High Line Trail. Click to enlarge
Glacier is also logistically tricky. To see it, you really need to go hiking. Driving the Going To The Sun Road is great and there are many pullouts to see waterfalls, goats, and fantastic views, but that's only a tiny sampling of what the park has to offer. And it's a huge park -- just driving from the West Glacier entrance to Logan Pass is over 20 miles.
We can't tow the Airstreams through the park. Our next goal would be to travel to the east side, where Many Glacier can be found, but since we have to detour around the park, this would be at least a three-hour trip. After thinking about it, we've decided that we are satisfied with our very full day and we will save the rest of the park for another visit.
Today will be a work day and then tomorrow we plan to start heading south to Yellowstone. Adam and Susan have already headed out, since they have less time than we do. We'll caravan with Rich C. Bert & Janie are heading out too, for several months of work on the road writing and photographing subjects from Montana to Nova Scotia, and then down the east coast. We are hoping to meet them again in Maine, in September.
Last night, after getting the second car and driving to the West Entrance, it was about 7:30 pm. We drove over to Kalispell (35 miles away -- things are spread out in Montana) for pizza at Moose's Saloon. If you ever get to Kalispell, check this place out. It looks disreputable, but the pizza is great and the atmosphere is fun. The floor is covered in sawdust and peanut shells, the music is loud, and it's a great place to get the two things Bert wanted most after our 12 miles of hiking: pizza and beer.
When we finally emerged from Moose's, it was 10 pm and the sun had just set. It wasn't completely dark until 10:30. In this time of year, Montana seems to understand that your days will be full, and it obliges with plenty of sunlight.
Crater Lake. Click for larger
I'll preface this blog entry by saying that I simply can't do justice to Crater Lake in words or pictures. As soon as I post this I will start uploading selected photos to Flickr, so you can see more. But in short, it is spectacular.
The entire central Oregon area is great: wild rivers and lakes stocked with trout, rafting, hiking, huge forests of lodgepole pine, ancient lava flows, and cheap National Forest campsites everywhere. On the drive up from the Rogue Valley we stopped at waterfalls and gorges, even a spot where the Rogue River goes underground and then re-emerges downstream.
But the crown jewel is undoubtedly Crater Lake. The most convenient campgrounds to Crater Lake are the park's Mazama campground or, just north, Diamond Lake. We stayed at Diamond Lake, which has both a cheap National Forest campground ($10, no hookups), and a full-hookup RV park. Both feature views of Diamond Lake, and a few very large mosquitoes. The RV park has free wi-fi near the entry building, but I didn't realize that until it was too late.
Since Diamond Lake is about 5,100 feet, the temperatures are cool and comfortable. Up at Crater Lake, nearly 2,000 feet higher, there's still a lot of snow left. The park gets an average of 44 feet of snow, so some of the roads were still closed. The park won't fully open until July. It was in the 50s and 60s while we visited -- a nice day for Crater Lake in June.
The short season of the park (unless you are into winter sports) was a small problem for us, since all the hiking trails were closed, some of the facilities were undergoing renovation, and the Rim Drive that circles the crater was definitely off-limits. With few things to do, our visit was basically a couple of hours on Saturday afternoon, and a few hours mid-Sunday. Mostly, we gaped at the view and took pictures.
Our lunch stop. Click for larger.
The water of the lake is exactly as blue as it appears in the pictures. Photo notes: you'll want a circular polarizer, and this is the place to set your camera on Aperture Priority mode. I tried to get F13-22 for most of the long shots.
The Lodge at Crater Lake looks like a great place to stay if you don't have an RV. It's really a completely rebuilt replica of the original lodge, which was a structural disaster. This one retains the lodge feel with great stone fireplaces and exposed wood everywhere, but with more modern conveniences. Even if you're not a guest, you can sit out by the lake and admire the view for the price of any drink from the restaurant's bar.
Sunday we met a few Airstreamers who, like us, are headed to Salem for the big rally. One couple, Rickie and Yank, are in a Safari 28 formerly owned by John Ratzenberger (of Cheers fame). We'll try to meet up with them again in the nearby town of Sisters later this week.
I also just heard from Colin Hyde of GSM Vehicles. He worked on Vintage Thunder last year and will be working on Vintage Lightning this year. He's planning to come to the International Rally for a few days to help show off a 65 Caravel he just restored for a client.
Tonight we are in a state park in Bend. Our plan is to use this as a base for most of the week, since there's a lot to see and do in this area.
We've bought our last tank of gas at $3.47 per gallon, I hope. We're in Oregon now, and things are cheaper here. Now, if we could only improve the weather....
The drive on Rt 199 from Crescent City CA was as scenic as I expected, at least through the first 35 miles or so. During that time you are in the northernmost part of the Redwood National Park, and the road winds through the big trees and along a river. Then you move seamlessly into National Forest, which is also terrific. It wasn't as nice as Rt 299 in California, but it was majestic and cool in the fog, and worth the drive.
Once the road crosses into Oregon it is markedly less scenic, since the National Forest ends there and various signs of rural life appear along the roadside. Ten miles later, the tiny tourist town of Cave Junction appears, and the dead-end 17 mile Route 46 that leads up to Oregon Caves National Monument.
Oregon Caves is not a convenient stop, but then, few of the good national parks are. The nearest camping is where we spent the night, at Grayback Campground ($16, no hookups, no dump) in the Siskiyou National Forest. This is 10 miles up Rt 46. Trailers and motorhomes are discouraged from going any further, and taking a 30-foot trailer such as ours up the rest of the road would have been downright crazy.
Grayback is a very nice place, bordered by a wild river, filled with tall pines and mushrooms, damp and primeval and shady, and normally we would love a place like this. But we've all had enough of shade lately, and so it was hard to get excited about another day in the gloom and cool. Especially since all of us still have colds.
Still, it presented me with numerous easy photo opps. There's a particular type of snail that was visible in several places: the Roth Snail. These big guys (about 2" long) leach calcium from the local marble as they march slowly along. They use the calcium to build colorful red shells of calcite for their homes. We were fascinated to see how they can completely retract their stalks and faces when they are scared.
Seven miles up a very twisty and and narrow road, and a couple thousand feet up, are the Oregon Caves. It's a good tour (free with the National Parks pass, by the way, otherwise $8.50 per adult). But the real gems of the place are the 1930s Chateau and Chalet buildings. These are real architectural masterpieces, made of huge douglas fir timbers and sided with redwood bark. The Chateau, six stories tall, seems to rise right out of the canyon as if it were planted there, and the river that exits the caves runs right through it.
You can stay in the Chateau overnight. It has more than a dozen hotel rooms, plus an elegant restaurant and a lunchroom. After our 90 minute cave tour, we were hungry and stopped in. (The tour includes 500 stairs, and it's 42 degrees inside, so we had worked up an appetite.) It's a great old-fashioned place to eat.
During lunch, Joe the maintenance guy responded to Eleanor's question about the famous mudslide that nearly destroyed the hotel in 1964. He got into the whole dramatic story, pointing out parts of the Chateau that were damaged. (The building was nearly pushed off its foundation.) It's a great story.
By this time it was 2 pm and the fog had turned to rain. The temperatures never got above 48, so we sloshed back to the truck and drove back down the National Forest campground to fetch the Airstream.
You'll notice we aren't driving the long distances lately. Our longest tow since Reno has been about 100 miles. We don't need to be in Salem until the 26th, so we are meandering a bit. This saves gas money and it's also a lot nicer. Why rush if you don't have to?
So our tow today was only 40 miles or so, to Valley of the Rogue State Park near Grant's Pass, OR. This is a grassy, manicured park with full hookups near I-5 ($20/night). We've selected a quieter site toward the back with just water & electric, and prepaid for three nights. We chose this park because it is convenient to services and along our route to Crater Lake. We need to re-stock a few things, plus I want to give everyone a couple of days to get rid of these darned colds.
I also need to get some work done. We are in the final stages of the Summer magazine issue, and everything goes to the printer on Friday. Once that's done, we'll head up to Crater Lake for the weekend and then up to Eugene on Monday.
I have to say that choose the twisting, roller-coaster road that is SR 299 through California was a great decision. (Rich C says it's a better decision for people with disc brakes, which he doesn't have -- yet.) The road follows the Trinity River past dozens of beautiful campgrounds, river rafting companies, fishing spots, and generally fantastic scenery.
The water is dam-controlled, and the release schedule called for lots of water last week and this, so river rafters were having a great time. We really wanted to stop and catch a rafting trip, but with our reservations at Humboldt in place, we decided to press on. That's the problem with firm plans. That's why we generally avoid making reservations!
We swung through Eureka to pick up our mail (a familiar post office, since we got mail there last November, the day before Thanksgiving), and then headed straight down Rt 101, "The Redwood Highway" to the park. It is just as amazing and beautiful as we remembered it.
One thing we forgot, however, was how dark it gets in the redwood forests. Rich C arrived ahead of us and scouted out a nice spot for us. (The campground has very few sites that will comfortably accommodate a 30-foot trailer.) As you can see from the picture above, we won't be getting much solar power.
Rich C was shocked at how little sunlight reached the ground. Inside the Airstreams, with the tinted windows, it is so dark we need lights all day long. But just a few hundred feet away in a clearing, brilliant bright sunlight is pouring down. It's strange.
We feel like hobbits in here. It is quiet and primeval in the forest, but also a tiny bit spooky. The scale of the trees and even the stumps dwarf us.
We are pretty sure we are going to reserve a third night (Sunday) so we have plenty of time to hike and explore the area. But that's going to be the limit. Rich C came over this morning to say, "I like it here, but if we spend too many days here I'm going to get depressed [from the dark]!" which is pretty much what we all were thinking.
Last night we did a short nature trail hike (0.6 miles) and checked out the excellent Visitor Center, and today we have a couple of hikes in mind. Rich C wants to go get a re-supply of his Jelly Bellys (jelly beans) today, and we might even go check out a light house. We're winging it.
This blog entry comes to your courtesy of Rich C, which spent half an hour last night wandering around the campground with his cell phone to find the best signal. He lucked out and got online, and I'm stealing his wifi signal from 200 feet away, with my Linksys repeater running off an inverter in the Nissan. That means I should be able to update the blog again tomorrow.
We're all glad we decided to stay another night here. Rich C and I had lighter work days, and we all took off to the tiny town of Chester to explore. It's a cute little town, populated with people who work for the National Forest Service and people supporting the influx of campers who occupy this place seasonally. But other than getting a haircut, dropping the mail and picking up some groceries, our visit to town was pretty quiet.
Walking along the abandoned railroad tracks that pass the campground was more fun, in a way. The tracks lead past a place where eagles and turkey vultures circle overhead all afternoon, looking for dead carp by the shoreline. Then the view opens up to the expansive Lake Almanor, with fly fisherman and mountains in the distance.
Lake Almanor feels like the northeast forests of home. We can imagine being in the Adirondacks, except that the pines are much bigger (ponderosa pines), towering over us like redwoods. It's a pleasant place to be, except for the thick yellow pollen that has coated everything. (Fortunately it doesn't seem to be bothering Eleanor unduly.)
We'll be leaving tomorrow, to start heading west to the coast. We've decided to make an overnight stop at a National Forest campground about 100 miles from here, and then spend the weekend at Humboldt Redwoods State Park. We may be out of touch again due to limited cellular coverage, but I'll update as soon as possible.
It is beautiful here, but I hardly saw any of it today. Neither did Rich C. We spent the day hunkered down in front of our laptops, working on various projects. My major breaks were taken when I had phone calls; then I was free to wander around the campground while talking.
Emma was working too. She was practicing reading with Eleanor, and around lunchtime she came and read me a short silly story about ducks in a tub. So we all made progress on something.
We did get a nice family walk (with Rich C) along the shore around 7 pm, after grilling some dinner outside. We saw eagles soaring in slow circles above the shoreline, and watched the beginning of the sunset over the water. This really is a great and peaceful place to camp.
Given that (a) it is gorgeous here by the shore of Lake Almanor; (b) we're having great weather (dry, sunny, 70s); (c) we aren't in any hurry, we have decided to stay one more night. Tomorrow I hope my phone won't ring much and there won't be any problems with the website or store ... so I can take a day off to explore the nearby town of Chester and get you some photos of this really great spot.
Our visit to Death Valley has been too short, but unfortunately work intrudes. Cell phone service is limited to spotty analog coverage, and I’ve had seven dropped calls this morning in an attempt to accomplish one short task. Forget about Internet service. We will mark Death Valley as a spot to return to again, perhaps next winter.
Before we left, Emma completed her Junior Ranger activities and we went to the Visitor Center to get reviewed by the rangers there. Emma managed to complete more activities in the book than are required for her age group,
The drive west out of the park is a tough one for any car, which is why the park service spots tanks of “radiator water” alongside the road. A sign says “Prevent overheating – turn off A/C next 20 miles”. The road climbs over the Panamint Range to 5000 feet, and even though we got on the road by 10:30, it was already 95 degrees.
The Nissan did very well for a truck hauling an 8000 lb trailer up 5000 feet vertically. As the road steepened, we did need to downshift to keep the engine RPM high. Higher RPM helps the engine and transmission cooling. Eventually, we needed to slow to about 25 MPH in first gear. There was plenty of power, but trying to go faster we would risk overheating.
Another tip I would give any Airstreamer coming out of Death Valley is to be sure to have plenty of fuel. Climbing up these hills, you won’t get the usual fuel economy. We chewed up a half tank in no time at all, and were forced to stop at one of the tiny outposts on the way west for fuel at a painful $3.76 per gallon. I bought five gallons, and was reminded of the last time I was in Italy, paying about the same rate.
Eventually Rt 190 meets Rt 395 at Lone Pine, and 395 heads north through the Owens Valley. This is an amazingly scenic drive. The sharp and snow-capped peaks of the Sierra Nevadas loom to the west. The valley is green and quiet, and to the east are the dusty brown desert foothills of the Inyo Mountains. This is wonderful country, magnificently isolated by the walls of rock to the west, and the hundreds of miles of scorching desert to the east.
Traveling north we passed through a series of small towns (Independence, Big Pine, Bishop), slowly climbing up the tilted valley floor. To our left we passed the east entrances of King’s Canyon, Sequoia, and Yosemite National Parks, but one glance at the steep winding roads told us we would have a tough time entering through those back doors. In fact, the roads to Yosemite and Devil’s Postpile National Monument are still closed for snow. The snow in the mountains that looked so far away from yesterday’s hike at Dante’s View got closer and closer. It was hard to believe we were heading toward it, with the memory of 100 degree temperatures and scorching hot beds still fresh.
In fact, the latent heat of Death Valley is still with us. We’re now around 7,000 feet in the town of Mammoth Lakes, where we are parked in the National Forest campground ($15, no hookups). When we arrived, the outside air was a mild 61 degrees, but when I opened a storage compartment in the back of the Airstream, I was surprised by a blast of heat. Every closet and cubby is the same way: storing the dry hot air of Death Valley. The interior of the trailer was 82 at 9 pm this evening. It may take most of the night to cool the trailer off, but at least we will have a much more comfortable night’s sleep.
From Las Vegas it's about 100-150 miles to Death Valley, depending on which way you go. But regardless, it's a long lonely road through hills and desert, with only a few outposts along the way. We tanked up in Las Vegas before we left at the best price around, $3.05 per gallon, because it certainly wasn't going to get cheaper as we went into the desert. We stopped again later for a 10 gallon top-off at $3.19 per gallon ... and I was glad because as we arrived in Death Valley, the only gas station had somewhat higher prices...
Since our last visit to Death Valley in 1997, the park service has cut a deal with the local Native American tribe, the Timbisha Shoshone. They now have a private area in the heart of the valley near Furnace Creek, nearly 200 feet below sea level. It's a tough place to live; not much water, and excruciating heat all summer.
We were lucky to get relatively mild temperatures. When we arrived it was in the low 90s, but we knew it would get hotter the next day, so we picked out a campsite in the Furnace Creek campground that was partially shaded. The idea is to have a spot where both solar panels would get full sun most of the day, but the tamarisk trees would shade half the trailer in the late afternoon.
You're probably thinking, "Hang on -- no hookups in that campground?" Yes. That means no air conditioning. So we expect that our two Fantastic Vents and plenty of solar power will be the keys to survival. The forecast for tomorrow is 100 degrees. Even tonight it's not going to cool much. At 10 pm, as I write this, it is still well into the 80s. Death Valley doesn't cool off at night much. The surrounding mountains trap the warm air. That's one of the reasons it is so hot here.
But it is beautiful. The views and wildlife are everywhere. During the afternoon we spotted a coyote wandering by. At sunset we were able to walk around and spot dozens of bats catching their dinners in the red dusk of sunset. I am sure, despite the heat, we will have a good time.
This morning Emma was pleased to find that her homeschool project of growing some herbs has yielded seedlings, and she insisted I take a picture of them. The desert sun and some nice soil donated by friends in Texas has caused her cilantro and chive to pop up.
The drive from Glen Canyon National Recreation Area to Zion National Park is all scenic. Along the way, we got glimpses of Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument, and Vermillion Cliffs, and passed through the little town of Kanab. The scenery ranges from dunes to "painted desert" to scrubby evergreen forests and finally to red sandstone.
We had heard from friends over the years that Zion was marvelous, but nothing prepared us for how incredible it is. We came in the east entrance, which brings you along an incredible and impossibly winding road and through two tunnels blasted out of the sandstone.
The second tunnel is narrow and for the past decade the park service has required "large vehicles" including all RVs to pay a fee of $15 to go through it. They have rangers stationed at either end who stop traffic so that RVs can go right down the middle. Basically, for the $15 you get to rent the entire tunnel for your private use for a few minutes. We made the most of it, cruising the long (nearly a mile!) and dark tunnel (no lighting at all) at a leisurely 20 MPH.
Once arrived in Zion Canyon, you can't help but be absolutely amazed. Every direction is an incredible scenic view of towering sandstone walls, over 1000 feet high. Even though there is only one road leading north-south through the canyon, there is very little traffic because the Park Service instituted a shuttle system back in 2000. It works great. Just hop on the shuttle that runs every 7-10 minutes and you've got a free guided tour of the canyon with stops just about everywhere.
The weather is superb. It was well into the 90s today but only 36% humidity and it felt much cooler than it was. Our campsite is partially shaded but I expect we will have enough sun to recharge our batteries again. Amazingly, there is cell phone service here, and so we can keep the blog updated every night. So we've got everything we need plus some ... and three nights to enjoy this great park.
Tonight it has dropped into the low 70s, so we can sleep with the windows open, and tomorrow the forecast is for 99 degrees. We plan to spend most of the day hiking some of the park's signature trails in the shady parts of the canyon, near waterfalls and pools.
Our campground last night, Rancho Sedona, distinguished itself in two ways today. First, it became only the second campground advertising wireless Internet which had a signal strong enough to penetrate our Airstream’s aluminum skin. Second, the sewer drain didn’t. So when I pulled that black handle … well, let’s just say it wasn’t pretty.
Turns out they have what they euphemistically refer to as “a delicate septic system.” Apparently when somebody downstream flushes the wrong thing, everybody upstream has a bad day. The service guy came over and did what you do at home: he plunged their drain line. He told me that the last time he was called out, it was a screwdriver in the line. People flush weird things.
We took the southern route out of Sedona to see more of the great scenery and to visit Montezuma’s Castle National Monument as well. The monument is small, basically consisting of ancient Native American cliff dwellings, and a good Visitor’s Center. The temperatures were flirting with 100 while we were there. I leaned against a brown metal railing and burned my elbow.
Just outside the Monument is one of the ubiquitous Native American casinos that dot the western landscape, and an open parking lot where we found a family selling frycakes and handmade jewelry. We’ve been seeing these frycake stands often since we entered New Mexico and Arizona, and since it was lunchtime I proposed we stop and try a few.
They’re a little like the fried dough you get at county fairs, but lighter, crispier, and not nearly as nauseating afterward. I buried mine in honey, Emma chose cinnamon sugar, and Eleanor mixed powdered sugar and salt for a kettle-corn sort of flavor. They were all great.
Then it was northward. I-17 rises as it approached Flagstaff, which is nothing like what I expected. Being up around 6000 and 7000 feet, the area is green with pine trees. The centerpiece is a peak 12,000 ft tall with snow at the top. Then Route 89 floats gently down to 5000 feet as it goes through National Forests and tribal reservations, including the large Navajo Nation.
The route to Page, AZ is beautifully scenic and often rather lonely. The Echo Cliffs parallel the road on the eastern side, and little villages populated by Native Americans are the only breaks in over 100 miles. Coming into Page, a town founded as recently as 1957, you are rewarded with stunning views of red rock formations and eventually Lake Powell.
Lake Powell was formed by the Glen Canyon Dam, which you can walk across for a dizzying but gorgeous view of the canyon and lake below. There’s a Visitor Center but we arrived after it was closed.
Just a mile down the road, we turned off for the Wahweap Marina area, which is part of the Glen Canyon National Recreation Area. Our National Parks pass with Eagle hologram got us in for free, saving $15. (That paid for the Eagle hologram right there.) Down the road are wonderful views of Lake Powell, the marina filled with houseboats, and Navajo Mountain.
I was hoping for a free campsite somewhere, but even boondocking in this campground costs $19. For what, I’m not sure. Oh well, it’s lovely and quiet. Since this is a warm night, still 84 degrees at 11 pm, and we’ll have to sleep with the windows open, it should beat the noisy Wal-Mart Supercenter up the road, where we saw at least six $100k+ Class A motorhomes parked for free.
Petrified Forest National Park is a lonely exit off I-40 in eastern Arizona. A single road about 25 miles long leads from the north entrance to the south. We came here expecting to see lots of petrified wood, but were surprised how much more there is to be found.
Right off the bat there are incredible views of badlands, and an historic Harvey House restaurant called the Painted Desert Inn. People used to get off the train about 20 miles south and travel by car to stay at this rustic adobe inn at the edge of the cliff overlooking the badlands.
Then we found a Native American pueblo dating from 600-800 years ago, with wonderful petroglyphs. While looking at those, a gorgeous milk snake came by (not venomous). We met a researcher in the parking lot who was studying snakes, so we took him over to the spot we last saw the snake. He already had a western diamondback rattlesnake in the car ...
A few miles further down, we finally began to see the remains of forests of large trees, fossilized and slowly emerging from the eroding cliffs. Emma spotted two jackrabbits, a hawk, a cottontail rabbit, and other creatures for her Junior Ranger project, to be turned in tomorrow.
We're boondocked just outside the park's south entrance tonight. We ran out of time this evening, so we'll head back about eight miles north to see the rest and do some hikes, before heading west to Sedona to meet up with Renee and Fred again.
This park is way up above Santa Fe, which is itself a pretty high-altitude town. The park is at 8700 feet, nestled in a cleft between mountains and surrounded by evergreen trees. The entire park has hardly any level ground. The few RV sites that it has are oriented so you have to back into them, up a steep slope. We found that you only get one shot at it. Backing a trailer up a hill is hard work for the transmission. The approach to the campsites is so steep that if you don’t get in your space the first time, you have to sit and wait for the transmission to cool off before trying again!
Now that we are parked, it’s a beautiful and peaceful spot. But since Rich C and I both need to get to work, we can’t stay here. (This working stuff is a nuisance.) Our cell phones report “NO SERVICE” and of course that means our mobile Internet doesn’t work either.
Knowing that we would be offline for the day, we stopped in Santa Fe about seven miles from the campground at a convenient roadside spot. I got online and made a few phone calls, and just as we were getting ready to leave, a local Airstreamer stopped by, attracted by the colorful graphics all over our trailer. Her name was Mary Jane and she was amazed that she’d never heard of Airstream Life magazine. So we gave her a magazine and had a nice conversation, and she offered to give us tips on what to do in town. This is the type of local contact that is worth more than gold.
I am reminded that out west the climate is dictated by altitude rather than latitude. At 8700 feet in the campground it was gray, windy, and wet, so we went into town where it was clearing, much drier, and at least 10 degrees warmer.
Santa Fe has a downtown that seems mostly composed of adobe buildings, but many of them are modern reproductions made of concrete. Still, it has a historic air and there is plenty to see. We just parked the car and walked the downtown for several hours, ducking into the various shops and markets. We finally got a southwestern-style rug for our Airstream, and I bought a leather hat which I plan to waterproof for rainy days. Emma likes it too.
As interesting as Santa Fe is, we are going to move on after just one night. We have only a week to get to Las Vegas and want to spend as much time in Zion National Park as we can, on the way. The state park, as pretty as it is, also lacks a few things besides being isolated from radio signals: the dump station is closed and sites don’t have water. It’s rather cold up here too. So basically we’re paying $14 per night for a parking space with electric. I’d rather be boondocking in the hot desert and using our solar system instead.
This is where we are going to split from Rich C. He has a minor problem with his truck that he wants to get resolved, and needs to wait until Wednesday for a part to arrive. By then, we’ll be 500 or more miles ahead of him, and he doesn’t want to rush. So he’s going to move to the KOA south of town, and we’re making plans to meet again in northern California for a few weeks before heading to the International Rally in Oregon.
This posting is coming to you from a lonely pullout somewhere between Santa Fe and Albuquerque. Our solar panels are finally getting tested, since I am running the laptop and our Internet box. We're generating 11 amps at 11 a.m. local time in full sun, which is great. Our daily usage is about 20-30 amp hours, so with just a few hours of sun we can easily replenish what we need when boondocking. In the gray light of yesterday, we were generating 1-2 amps, which would still be enough to extend our batteries for several days. It's encouraging.
Our route has once again intersected historic Route 66, "the mother road." It's easy to tell because the main drag through Santa Rosa is lined with old motels with neon signs, and all manner of businesses harping on the Route 66 mystique.
"Garminita", our GPS with the British nanny voice, led us badly astray on the way to the state park. For some reason the database does not include the only road that leads to the park entrance, and so she sent us down a one-lane dirt road called "CR-1a" which intersects no other roads and essentially goes nowhere for about a hundred miles. We realized we were seriously off-route a few miles in, but couldn't turn around.
A local came by in a pickup truck and we flagged him down. Apparently we were in the middle of an enormous ranch, over a million acres, and if we stayed on CR-1a we would eventually come to Las Vegas NM, which was quite a way north. We continued bumping down the dusty trail for another mile to a spot where it seemed we might be able to turn around, and executed a complex 7-point turning maneuver which involved considerable engine power, and liberal use of 4WD. The trailer is caked with red dust now.
Santa Rosa State Park is beautiful, set high above an emerald-green lake formed by the damming of the Pecos River. Unfortunately, rain set in and the temperature dropped, so we didn't spend a lot of time outside. The rain broke only for a few minutes but it was long enough to get some great rainbow pictures at sunset. (See our new windows?)
This area has been in a drought, but it seems to be breaking today. It rained all last night and has been steady all day today. We changed our plans to head up to Santa Fe for a couple of days. We'll be staying in Hyde Memorial State Park tonight, but right now we are roadside to get email. Rich C is already parked at the state park and says as usual there's hardly any cell phone coverage and no Internet.
I'm looking forward to some good southwestern chow tonight. Since it's raining, we may go out for dinner in town. With luck, the weather will improve tonight and we'll get some good photos tomorrow. Santa Fe is beautiful.
Our last few hours at Roger Williams Airstream were productive. Rich bailed out at his usual crack of dawn time, but as predicted, we just rolled over and kept on sleeping. David showed up around 8 a.m. and proceeded to install some bonus items: new stainless steel covers for the water heater and furnace.
The standard covers are fairly ugly steel painted a battleship gray color, which fades in the sunlight. Check out these before-and-after pics.
The ugly old cover
New stainless steel cover
If you want to get some of these covers for your trailer, check with David Tidmore at 817-596-0050. He's had a bunch of them fabricated locally, and as far as I know, nobody else offers them. I think the pair (water heater and furnace) is less than $80.
David also helped us clean up some spots in the carpet (using an interesting product called "Dealersol", but I'm not sure if you can buy it at retail), and the stainless steel parts in our trailer using a product called "ZEP" which you can apparently buy at Home Depot. (The stoneguards, refrigerator front, and stove front are stainless steel in our trailer.)
Finally, we took the rig around the block a few times to work in the disc brakes and adjust the brake controller. They start off braking poorly until the pads and rotors get worn a bit. After just a few miles the difference was amazing. It really STOPS.
With all this, we didn't get on the road until about 11. It was nearly 300 miles to Caprock Canyon, so we arrived way after Rich C, but he had a spot picked out for us, and had already scoped out the good stuff to see. There was still time to check out some great canyon views after dinner.
Now we're trucking through New Mexico on our way to another state park tonight. Rich C is already there, and he reports that there is no Internet service (via cellular) in the park, so again I'll have to post from the road tomorrow.
So far today we have covered a couple hundred miles and the disc brakes are now perfectly broken in. The difference is night and day, as I've been told. I'm really impressed. I can make a slow stop or slam on the brakes, and the effect is just remarkable -- this 8000 lb trailer just smoothly comes to a halt without pushing us, or even letting us know it is there. I feel like it is a big safety improvement. Woo-hoo!
Stopping at a rest area off I-40, we met up with these folks pulling a 1972 Airstream Safari (single-axle) with a Nissan Titan. Very friendly ... and it turns out they were just at Mystic Springs Airstream Park near Pensacola a couple of weeks ago, so we were able to talk about folks we both know down there. Their Safari is dented and rough on the outside, but very usable and they are having fun with it. That's the whole idea!
Forget what you thought of Mississippi. It's got some really interesting spots in it, and we found two of them today. First stop was the very large, high-tech, and impressive new Nissan assembly plant in Canton. Only opened to tours last month, this place is absolutely monstrous -- and well worth the visit.
We parked right in front. (The nice thing about visiting auto plants with the trailer is that they always have plenty of parking!) I tried to take a photo of the trailer and the factory, but this place is so huge you need an airplane to see it all at once. You can see the north end of the factory building in the picture above ...
... and the south end of the building off in the horizon in the second picture. Believe it or not, that is all one giant building.
Of course the Tour trailer got a bit of attention too. While I was on the factory tour, somebody from the plant came out with a notebook and wrote down our URL. (Whoever you are, welcome!)
As with other auto tours, there's no photography allowed inside, so you're going to have to take my word for it that this is one awesome tour for anyone who likes to see stuff built, or who likes cars. Hundreds of industrial robots, sparks flying, giant metal presses five stories tall, and eventually 2,500 individual parts assembled into an American-made Nissan Armada or Titan. I got a nice feeling about our Armada, having seen how carefully it was built, and I got a good look at the innards (chassis, engine, transmission), too. I only wish I could have been there when ours was built!
The price is right: $free. But the tour is booked solid into September, so if you want to check it out, reserve early. And stop in on downtown Canton, just a couple of miles north of the plant on Rt 51. They've got an interesting downtown square with great historic architecture.
After a three-mile tram ride through the factory and two videos, I rejoined Eleanor and Emma back in the trailer where they were doing some homeschooling. I caught up on some work, and then we picked up the Natchez Trace Parkway just south of Canton and spent the afternoon slowly meandering down this very scenic road through 200 years of American history.
The Trace is limited to non-commercial vehicles, and the speed limit is generally 50 MPH, and it doesn't really go anywhere in particular. So for the most part it is quiet and uncrowded, with gentle bends and plenty of historic pull-outs. We stopped about six times, taking one hike, and learning quite a bit about the history of this ancient trail from the interpretive signs. In about four hours we covered only 90 miles but it was some of the most pleasant driving we've done since we were on Route 1 in California. Even Emma liked it.
Our stop tonight is the Natchez Trace State Park, along the southernmost ten miles of the parkway. There's a lot more north of our entry point at Canton, but we won't get to drive it on this trip. We are going to exit at Natchez tomorrow morning. We have some extra time to explore as we head west this week, so our plan is to head into Louisiana and just let things find us.
Now, this is a nice state park. Coming from Jacksonville, you head west past the St John River and the little ferry that crosses it, over some salt marsh, and suddenly you are on Little Talbot Island, a tiny barrier of gorgeous sand and shells on the Atlantic Ocean.
The park is across the road from the oceanside, bordering a creek. It's a maze of tiny lanes which we had to navigate very carefully with our 30-foot trailer. Most of the sites are like ours: shady with overhanging live oaks draped heavily with Spanish moss. It's just beautiful here.
Our site is small enough that we had to unhitch to get the truck out of the road, but it seems worth it. I wish we could stay a second night -- there's a lot to do here: beachcombing, bicycling trails, a nearby plantation home, a few seafood restaurants, the scenic little ferry, etc. But the park is booked up for the weekend, so we did what we could today.
First stop was the beach. It is wide and flat, miles long, hard packed enough to drive on (but you can't here), and littered with shells at low tide. It was also virtually deserted today. Signs warn of rip tides but the water was warm and people were coming out of the water when we arrived. There's enough space on this beach that the park service felt obliged to post signs warning that nude bathing is not allowed.
Dipping our feet in the Atlantic Ocean means we have finally crossed the country. Our last few swims have been in the Gulf of Mexico, and before that we last touched salt water in the Pacific Ocean at Carpinteria State Beach near Santa Barbara CA. Now we can go only a bit further eastward before we point the rig back to the blue Pacific.
After the beach we took a ranger's recommendation and hopped the 3-minute ferry across the St John River to Mayport. You can ride over as a passenger for $1.00 or take the car for $3.25, each way. It's pretty expensive for such a short ride.
But it's worth it. A hundred feet from the dock on the Mayport side is Singleton's Seafood Shack, a family-run institution that has a richly deserved reputation for serving great food. We left absolutely stuffed full of crab, fish, scallops, shrimp, clam strips, collard greens, coleslaw, rice & beans, and hush puppies. This place is highly recommended! The big collection of hand-made wooden boat models in the back room is a free bonus.
We have decided that our Open House/Happy Hour/Meet'n'Greet/Free Snacks events for blog readers and other friends will be next Friday from 1 pm to 2:30 pm, and Saturday 1 pm to 2 pm. We'll be in site I-46 at Ocean Lakes Family Campground. If I can find a flagpole kit for the Airstream, we'll be flying the Airstream Life flag. Come on over if you can.
Tonight is our last night before Emma returns. We decided to spend it exploring the "sponge docks" area of Tarpon Springs. In the early part of the 20th century this harbor was a thriving center of sponge diving activity, but in the 1940 and 50s a blight wiped out most of the sponges. Today, the sponge docks area survives as a tourist district.
Normally tourist districts are not our first choice, but this one has a special element which attracted us. The Greek families who were the mainstay of the sponge diving industry are still here, running restaurants and bakeries. We came for a walk, and some serious noshing.
Somewhere behind that hair is Eleanor ... (Click for larger image)
Sponges are everywhere here, even though I suspect many of them come from far far away now. You can't walk 50 feet without passing a display of sponges, a shop selling fancy local soaps, and then a few more sponges. One of the sponge shops hosts a free museum where you can learn much more about sponges and sponge diving than you ever wanted to know. Occasionally you'll see someone hand-rolling cigars, too.
But we didn't need any sponges, so we headed right into one of the restaurants for a Greek feast. Stuffed grape leaves, calamari, and gyros ... and the gyros were so big we had to get a take-away box for the leftovers. We also got a few fresh pita breads so we can make gyros sandwiches with the leftovers tomorrow.
She's still hiding behind that hair...
Then it was off to the bakery to get even more stuffed. Take your pick, there are several in town and all of them are good. Let's see, we got dark chocolate cake, baklava, and Eleanor got a special baklava with an apricot top and a tiny cup of Greek coffee. By this time, nobody wanted to move too quickly, so we hung out and watched a |
