Category Archives: Reviews

Answer: Too Badly

04 Tuesday Jun 2019

Posted by in Adventures, Campground, Travel, Vanlife

≈ 2 Comments

The question was: how badly did I want my surprisingly comfortable, $29.99 CostCo chair? Badly enough to try to order it online, absolutely. Alas, it wasn’t on their website. But badly enough to return to CostCo for a third day in a row?

It took me a while to decide, but I really wanted that chair. That said, I definitely wasn’t paying resort prices for a campground for a second night. It was time to hit the wilds. Off I drove, into Gallantin National Forest, and a land of roads with no names, just numbers. Directly south of Bozeman, three campgrounds border the Hyalite Reservoir. The first one looked nice, but a review said the second one was great, if you were willing to drive along a bumpy, rutted dirt road for a while.

Bumpy roads? No problem, I’ve done that before. (This was probably a bad decision but I wouldn’t know that for a while. <–foreshadowing!) And that campground, Hood Creek, looked fantastic. Narrow, winding roads, but the campsites were on different levels, bordering the water, laid out for privacy and views. Unfortunately, it was noon on a Friday in June, and I was too late: the campground was full. The camp host suggested I give the next one down the road, Chisholm, a try.

I did. And… it was not great. It wasn’t horrible, but the available sites didn’t have water access or views or anything. It was $20 for your basic parking spot in the woods. I was tempted to keep driving. Maybe the first campground I’d passed would have an available spot? Maybe a campground back on the road to Yellowstone would be better? But I had no cell service, so no internet to research my options, and the skies were looking gray. Plus, well… I really wanted that chair. If I kept driving, I’d have farther to go to get back to get it. So I settled in with a book or two. (I’m currently reading everything Martha Wells has written, because I liked the Murderbot Diaries so much).

A camper van surrounded by tall trees.
My campsite: a parking spot in the woods, basically.

Within the hour, it started to hail. I like the sound of rain on Serenity’s roof. I am not so fond of the sound of hail on Serenity’s roof. It’s funny how much a seemingly minor increase in volume can change a noise from comforting to threatening. But there wasn’t anything I could do about it, so I read my book and waited for it to stop. To the best of my knowledge, the van survived just fine. Of course, I have no way to actually get on the roof and check for damage, but eh. I’m going to assume it’s fine. If it’s not, I’m sure I’ll find out eventually.

After the hail, the sky cleared. I kept my nose mostly buried in my book and bright and early the next morning headed back on that bumpy, bumpy road for the 45 minute drive to CostCo.

*Sigh.*

I shouldn’t have been surprised, really. When I took S to CostCo in Eureka, I told her that if you see something you want at CostCo, you should always buy it right away because there’s no guarantee that you will ever see it again. A third helpful employee tried to help me find the chair I was looking for, but this time, it was like it never existed at all. She let me look over her shoulder while she searched her computer for variations on camping chair, backpacking chair, outside chair, but nothing matched the one I’d seen on Thursday. It was the magical disappearing chair. I should have known that a comfortable camping chair for $29.99 was too good to be true.

The good news, though, was that instead of driving to Yellowstone in a hail storm, I got to drive there on an absolutely beautiful, blue sky, perfect weather June day. But it’s now almost 10PM and I’m tired after an eventful day, so I’m going to save my Yellowstone stories — and my foreshadowing! — for tomorrow. (Spoiler alert: I’m fine, so is Serenity.)

Bozeman Hot Springs Resort

03 Monday Jun 2019

Posted by in Campground, Vanlife

≈ 7 Comments

On Thursday, I headed off, so optimistic about all the things that I was going to manage to fit into my day. Finding water for the tank was number one on the list, but I also needed groceries and windshield wiper fluid. Of course, I’d have to buy gas somewhere — it’s a daily occurrence when driving this much — and after a few nights without plugging into electricity, it would also be nice if I could find a spot where I wouldn’t feel bad about running the generator for an hour or so to recharge my computer. I wasn’t going to kid myself about getting any real writing done, but at the very least, I wanted to update my blog. That meant I also needed at least a short time of internet or cell service availability.

Cutting a long story short, by 5PM, I was tired, sort of frustrated, sick of driving, and had at least another hour of driving to get to where I’d been hoping to spend the night. And I still needed water. But then there, practically calling my name, was the Bozeman Hot Springs Resort.

It had only one problem: it was the most expensive resort I’d ever seriously considered staying at.

On the other hand, it also had one incredible virtue: with an overnight stay, you got a pass to the hot springs. These springs were swimming-pool/hot-tub style, and easy walking distance from the campground. There were 9 different pools, or maybe 10. (I feel like I remember 6 inside, and I know there were 4 outside.) It also had live music, with a singer-guitarist on a stage in front of one of the outside pools. Fancy! And for tired, frustrated, camping-dirty me, totally worth the $64 I spent on my campsite. I took a shower, soaked in all of the hottest pools, then took another shower. Yay for hot water!

The campground also included a nice hotel-style breakfast in the morning: scrambled eggs, waffles, yogurt, cereal, apples, bananas.

And the campsites weren’t horrible. They were definitely the parking lot style, the kind of place where if you stuck around long enough, you’d get to know everything about your neighbors just by overhearing every word they say, but they weren’t piled up on top of one another. There was nice grass between the spaces and I stayed in a water-electric spot, so refilled my fresh water tank and my jugs, and recharged my computer. Also used the sous vide cooker and insta-pot to prep some food for quinoa bowls later in the week. Yay for electricity.

a camper van parked in a grass site with blue sky and clouds in the background
I had no neighbors on either side of me, so it was nice and spacious, but it would have been pretty cozy if the campground had been full.

Plus, it kept me close to CostCo. One of the reasons for my frustration was that CostCo had the most comfortable camping chair I’d ever sat in out on display. I’ve been trying out camping chairs for basically forever. Well, for three years anyway. They’re just not really comfortable, mostly. They’re fine for half an hour, maybe forty-five minutes if you’re sitting around a campfire, but they’ve always got metal bars that dig into your legs or weird armrests or they’re too low to the ground or oddly angled. I’ve never found one that I really liked until that day at CostCo. And it was only $29.99! An absolute bargain, given how expensive they usually are.

Unfortunately, the only one they had left was the one on display. But that was okay, because they were getting a new shipment — 224 of them — the next morning. All I had to do was come back. That wasn’t exactly convenient, since I’d hoped to be well on my way to Yellowstone by the time CostCo opened in the morning, but it was worth it to me, because it was such a comfortable chair.

But boo for CostCo. When I drove back the next morning, there were no chairs. I found a helpful CostCo employee — not the same one I’d talked to the previous day — and he used his walkie-talkie to ask about the chairs. Alas, they hadn’t arrived. But they were still on their way and ought to be in the next day.

Did I want to stay in Bozeman another day? Nope. Places to go, things to do. But by the time I’d gone to CostCo, parked, wandered around searching for my chair, found an employee to help me, and chatted, I was already running late to get a campsite in Yellowstone for the night. (They’re first-come, first-served: during peak season, they fill up by 7:30 AM, but this time of year, they fill up around noon. I was about three hours away, so would get there around 2.)

I decided to start driving south, while I considered: how badly did I want that chair?

Beauty Creek Campground

31 Friday May 2019

Posted by in Campground, Randomness, Reviews

≈ 2 Comments

The creek is dry, but the campground is still remarkably beautiful.

I had a fairly typical driving day on Tuesday: I left Seattle by 9:30 and took a break about two hours later, wondering why I hadn’t managed to get farther along my path. I ran the generator to use the InstantPot, and made myself a delicious quinoa bowl, with fresh greens, avocado, pickled onion, shredded carrots and a lime-yogurt dressing. Walked Zelda, washed dishes, checked my email, read the news, and then realized that it was almost 1 and I’d been sitting at the rest stop for over an hour. Sigh.

Back on the road again, but I stopped an hour later to get gas. Back on the road again, and Z was awake and wandering the van restlessly, so it was time for the next rest stop and a quick dog walk. Back on the road again and traffic was picking up. Road construction around Spokane, an early rush hour…

I spent my day thinking about nothing. Watching scenery; listening to music; wishing I wasn’t driving; trying to promptly clean splatted bugs off the windshield; remembering details from the weekend; considering billboards and lottery winners and the weather. Developing strategies for measuring time as it passes, counting down the minutes on Apple maps.

Debating places to visit. Glacier National Park? But the Sun road is still closed, and I’d so much rather go there when I have time to be there, not just a quick glance into the visitors center followed by more long driving days. The sapphire mine in Phillipsburg? A reader in Montana (who I should really have emailed days ago if I planned to stop by)? Yellowstone?!?

Arguing with myself over whether to drive long days then take rest days vs trying to drive 100 miles every day or drive 250 miles every other day. I finally told myself that I’d just finish every driving day by filling the gas tank. When I’d driven to the point where I needed gas, I’d give myself permission to stop.

But I wanted to spend the night in northern Idaho, because my Progressive insurance adjustor promised me I’d like it. I was aiming for Beauty Creek campground in Coeur d’Alene. It’s first come, first served, and according to the reviews, sometimes crowded. Given that it’s now post Memorial Day, I was prepared to be disappointed, but I persisted anyway. And it is so, so beautiful. My insurance adjustor was not wrong.

My gorgeous view wasn’t cheap: $23 for dry camping, with no hookups, no showers, just vault toilets and picnic tables. The trees were alive with bees, too — I could hear the hum of a happy (and probably big!) hive in the grove of trees next to the van. A few visited and explored my screens, but none made it inside.

I’d hoped to fill up my fresh water tank here — although there were no hook-ups, they did say they had water. But the water was a pump. And not an electric pump, the kind of pump where you move the handle up and down to get the water to run. It’s a multi-handed operation — one person to pump, one person to hold the water jug and the spigot open. Zelda was not much help. In fact, Z was sort of actively unhelpful, because she didn’t understand why I wasn’t walking when as far as she was concerned, we were taking our evening stroll. Oh, well. I filled one jug, enjoyed the experience, and moved “water” higher up my list for a future campground.

And sadly, my neighbors found it important to run their generator all evening long. I was so tempted to go knock on their door and ask why they were ruining the camping for the rest of us, but a) the rest of us was just me, the only person in hearing distance, and b) ha. I never would. I might think about it, but that kind of conflict is not in my nature. Instead, I eventually closed my windows and appreciated the stillness and coziness of my quiet house, minus the fresh air.

Gills Landing RV Park

21 Tuesday May 2019

Posted by in Campground, Travel, Vanlife

≈ 2 Comments

Once upon a time, I was going to spend a week or ten days slowly going up the Oregon coast on my way to Seattle. That was before I crunched Serenity, causing a delay of several days, and before R let me know that he was passing through S with a long, long layover. Change of plans, so I took the most direct route possible, up Highway 5 through the middle of the state.

While I drove I was remembering all the other times I’ve driven on that road. Once in 1999, maybe? A couple times around 2003, I think. Once headed south in 2017. Enough times to make me think that one of my issues with traveling is how much driving days feel like wasted days. I need to do better about turning them into discovery days — days when I do something more interesting than simply drive. Spending all day on the road, especially when it’s a familiar road, just isn’t an interesting way to spend time. Yesterday’s big event to that point had been a stop at a Safeway to pick up salad greens and get gas. Woo-hoo! (Not.)

The day got more interesting when I arrived at my carefully-selected campground and discovered that it was full. On a Monday. In May. Having had so much availability earlier in the day that I’d decided I didn’t need to make a reservation! Dang it.

Back in the van and on the road we went and no sooner had we gotten back on the highway than I was cursing myself. The only reason I needed a campground was to dump the tanks. If I wasn’t heading from one ten-day stretch in a driveway to another several days in a driveway, I wouldn’t need a campground at all, I could just spend the night in a rest stop or a parking lot. If I’d thought of that before I left my carefully-selected campground, I could have asked to use the dump station and opened up my options. But alas, I didn’t think of it. So I was on the hunt for a campground with a dump station or hook-ups.

Fortunately, I found one reasonably easily. I got mildly lost once and had to ask for directions at the non-camping park across the street, but Gills Landing, a county park in Lebanon, had spots available, and I was settled in — tanks dumped, water tank topped up, with electricity running the InstantPot — by about 6PM. I was a little dubious about the train tracks running directly behind my campsite, but if any trains went by in the night, I missed them.

And I quite like the campground. It’s not for tent campers — there’s a bathroom but it closes at dusk, so they only accept RVs with a manufacturer-installed toilet system (and both hosts asked me about it, so that is something they take seriously). But the spaces are level, with concrete pads, and lots of room between them. It’s $35/night, so not cheap, but they are full hook-up spots, so not unreasonable, either. I didn’t check out the bathrooms and don’t know whether they have showers. But I have reasonable internet access on both T-Mobile and Verizon.

Green grass, tall trees, and a silver camper van parked on a level concrete pad, with a brown railroad bridge in the immediate background, so close it looks like the van is parked underneath it.
Serenity, with the elevated train tracks directly behind her.

Unfortunately, the rain started in the night. Z and I started walking this morning and we got about four sites away before she stopped and stared at me, her attempt to psychically say, “Why are we doing this?” I got the message and we turned around and came back to the van. There’s a river nearby, according to the map, so I suspect there’s probably some nice walks and maybe even a view — but Z isn’t curious enough to want to walk in the rain, so we are probably not going to investigate. Instead, I’m writing these words and hoping that Fen’s adventures aren’t so totally disrupted by my driving day that I can write some of those words, too. And then it’s back on the road. Seattle by dinner-time!

Bend, Oregon

11 Saturday May 2019

Posted by in Adventures, Campground, Pets, Travel

≈ 6 Comments

If I had the money to live anywhere and was completely unconstrained by thoughts of friends and family, Bend would have moved to the top of my list this week. It’s a fantastic small city. Good thrift stores, good parks, reasonable roads, and excellent restaurants. Also, very, very dog-friendly.

We spent a fun afternoon there, doing all of the above: lunch at Parilla Grill, a fun walk in Drake Park with the dogs, visits to a couple of thrift stores. Then we checked in to the La Quinta Inn for a night of luxury. Woo-hoo! Clean showers, comfy beds, and electricity. And internet, too!

I know I’ve been posting as if I was writing the entire trip, but in actual fact, most of our campsites didn’t have electricity or internet. By that point on Sunday afternoon, my computer had been out of charge for three days or so, and I hadn’t written a word for two of them. I told S that it felt like I was going through withdrawal.

So I was happy to write for a while and then we used our delightful internet access to find a restaurant for dinner. We wound up at 10 Barrel Brewing — with all three dogs! While we were browsing restaurants, I pointed out that they had a patio, and S promptly called them and asked if they allowed dogs on their patio. The woman on the phone answered, “Yes, of course.”

“Yes, of course,” even applied to three dogs. Yep, we took all of them out to dinner with us. Everyone else on the patio brought their dogs, too. It was great, and completely solidified my already growing love for Bend. The dog at the table next to ours was a puppy that looked so much like Zelda as a puppy — white body, black ears, patch over an eye, except about twice as big. I can’t believe I didn’t take a picture of him. But here’s a picture of Zelda under our table.

a small white dog with black ears and beautiful eyes looking wistful
Zelda, wondering when she gets a bite of my elk burger.

To complete our restaurant pleasure, on Monday morning we ate at McKay Cottage Kitchen one more time. And this time I took a picture. 🙂

plates of breakfast food including omelette and potatoes, bacon, pico de gallo, and something with Hollandaise sauce
Breakfast before a long day on the road.

But after breakfast, it was time to start the long trek home. Of course, when you’re traveling with three dogs, it’s one thing to say, “We’re just going to drive all day.” It’s another thing to actually accomplish that.

We stopped at a rest stop in Chemult and let the dogs play in the snow.

gif of two dogs playing in the snow

We stopped at the Rogue Gorge and walked the dogs along the river while S told me Tolkien stories.

scenic view of rushing water

We stopped at Fred Meyer in Grant’s Pass and bought snacks and sushi and gas.

And eventually, we stopped at Florence Keller County Park and spent another night on the road, because even though we were only 90 minutes away from Arcata, why not spend a night camping in the redwoods when you can?

two dogs, curled up together
Riley and Buddy, sharing the good bed.
two dogs, curled up together (not the same two)
Buddy and Zelda, sharing the good bed.
very tall trees with sunlight peering through them
Some very tall trees.

On the way home on Tuesday morning, we stopped at the Redwood National Park visitor center, for the final moments of a truly lovely vacation, in which the weather was mostly perfect, the adventures were mostly pleasant, and the company was always fantastic. The food was generally pretty good, too!

Sorry, Serenity (& Crystal Crane Hot Springs Campground)

10 Friday May 2019

Posted by in Adventures, Campground, Serenity, Travel

≈ 2 Comments

a dirt road in a valley between rugged hills
Succor Creek

Succor Creek was a beautiful place to wake up. I took a walk with Zelda on Saturday morning, down this road, and the scenery on all sides was incredibly beautiful. Even the herds of small children roaming the hills couldn’t make the campground feel crowded. But we had miles to go and prepaid reservations at our next campground, so we packed up and headed out.

Ironically — or, as my son might remind me, in just a not-very-funny coincidence — after all my worries about driving on the dirt roads, I managed to crunch poor Serenity after we got back on the road. At a gas station, alas. And I managed to break the kind of streak that everyone should wish for: thirty-five years of never having to call an insurance company because of something I’d done. Dang.

a badly scraped side of the van with a broken heater vent
Poor Serenity. I promised her I would get her fixed, though!

But it was what it was. The van was still drivable and no one was hurt so after spending some time chatting with my truly delightful Progressive customer service person (sympathetic! helpful! organized!), we got back on the road.

Fortunately, our destination was exactly the kind of place you want to end up at when you’re feeling stressed and frustrated with yourself: Crystal Crane Hot Springs Campground. The campground itself was not beautiful: dry grass, rocky gravel sites, no trees or separation between sites, port-a-potty type toilets right across from our own site…

Our campsite at Crystal Crane Hot Springs
three dogs on three dog beds
Even the dogs said, “This ground is too hard.” All of them wanted outside beds. It was cute to see them all piled up together, though. The bed that Z is on is her bed, but there was much mild doggie competition to be the one who got that bed over the course of the week.

But do you see that hint of water behind Serenity in the above picture? The hot springs was basically a pond, and the water was amazing. S and I swam once in the afternoon, then as soon as it started to get dark we went back again.

Drifting in the hot water in the cool night air while the stars came out was… spectacular. It was a moment where I was intensely glad to be where I was, to be alive, to be experiencing life. Bats swooped overhead, which doesn’t sound like it should be cool, but really was, and planes left contrails in the sky until it got so dark that you couldn’t see them. It was surreally beautiful.

A GIF of steam rising off the hot springs at sunrise
Steam rising off the spring.

Unlike Succor Creek, though, which felt like a place where it would have been nice to stay forever, I was definitely ready to move on Sunday morning. The springs were great, but the campground was hot and dry and sort of bleak and there’s only so much soaking in hot water one can do. Plus, we were headed back to Bend and both S and I were looking forward to all the fun we were going to have there. Well, the fun and the good things to eat!

Succor Creek State Natural Area

08 Wednesday May 2019

Posted by in Adventures, Campground, Travel

≈ 4 Comments

As we drove away from Celebration Park on Friday morning, S said to me, “I don’t know about you, but that was the best parking lot I ever camped in.” I laughed, as expected, because it was also the first parking lot S had ever camped in.

But then I considered the idea, thinking about all the parking lots I’ve stayed in, from the very first terrifying night in a West Virginia arts center, to Walmarts and Flying Js, a rest stop in Oregon, Cabela in Montana, a Cracker Barrel in Alabama, even the miserable night sitting outside the emergency vet longing for good news about Bartleby. And I had to agree, Celebration Park was the nicest parking lot I’ve camped in.

Parking lot with camper van parked in front of beautiful green hill and cliff. Also a cute Jack Russell terrier in front of the van.
That ridge of rock in the background, the cliff, is where the golden eagles were nesting.
A picnic table on sandy ground with a view of the river and a beautiful desert tree.
The picnic tables next to the parking lot.
Lots of rusty angles on a historic bridge over the Snake River.
Walking over the historic bridge.

But one night in a parking lot was plenty and then it was time to head back into Oregon. S had purchased a book on Oregon’s geology at the fossil beds and was excited to go thunder egg hunting. Thunder eggs, (basically rounded rocks with crystals inside), are the state rock of Oregon. She picked Succor Creek State Natural Area Campground as the place to go to find some. Sounded fine to me.

But I should have made her drive there.

Well, or maybe not. It might have made me incredibly nervous to have my home in someone else’s hands as we made our way down bumpy dirt roads for what felt like hours. Even more incredibly nervous than I was with my home in my own hands! The three hours that I drove on Friday morning were exhausting. At one point, we hit a deep spot in the road, filled with water, ridged on either side, with deep tracks from other vehicles, and if it hadn’t meant I’d have to drive ten miles back over the same roads, I might have just said no. Instead, we kept going.

It was totally worth it.

Campground view -- a long dirt road with a tiny van at the end of it, green trees, canyon walls on either side.
The view of the campground.

At the end of 15 miles of dirt road (predicted by Siri to take an hour of driving time), we reached an almost empty campground. We found a great spot, backing on a beautiful creek, and spent the afternoon there, enjoying the sunshine, warmth, and feeling of spring in the air, as the campground slowly filled up with people.

The slowly filling up with people part was a little surprising — this campground was remote! — but it was a beautiful Friday in spring, so it probably shouldn’t have been. I was glad we’d gotten there early, though, because we’d gotten a nice spot with enough room for S to comfortably set up her tent and we also had the fun of having the area to ourselves for a while.

We walked the dogs and then S climbed the hills and hunted for rocks. I started up the hill, but as I clambered over the rocks, I couldn’t help thinking that the rocks were a perfect place for rattlesnakes. And that if I was a rattlesnake on a sunny warm day in spring, with temperatures reaching the 80s, I would probably be out sunning myself on the rocks. And that as a human being, I could keep a careful eye out for snakes, but that the darling dog trailing along with me would probably not understand that a snake was dangerous. And that if I was bitten by a snake, approximately ninety minutes away from any medical care, I’d have a chance of surviving, but that a 16-pound dog would probably not last long enough to get to the emergency vet.

As a result, instead of searching the hills for interesting rocks, Z and I retreated to the comfort of the grassy creekside and I read a book. Honestly, it was really lovely and I thoroughly enjoyed myself, so maybe I let anxiety win, but on the other hand, maybe I kept my dog safe and happy and didn’t miss anything much. It wasn’t like I’d be willing to load up Serenity with rocks, even if I found the coolest rocks ever.

Dog in grass
Happy Zelda, sitting in the grass under the tree.

That night, we finally did something I’d been yearning to do ever since I got the idea: we built a fire and barbecued Easter peeps. They were as delicious as I’d imagined they would be — crispy carmelized sugar on the outside, melty marshmallow on the inside. If you ever try it, be aware that the sugar gets really, really hot — much hotter than the marshmallow. S got to discover the effectiveness of lavender essential oil for burns but her burn was still bad enough to blister. But I think she’d agree that it was worth it!

Barbecued peep with S in the background eating another
A barbecued Easter peep.

Bruneau Dunes State Park

05 Sunday May 2019

Posted by in Adventures, Campground, Food

≈ 7 Comments

After our relaxed departure from Bully Creek, we headed into Idaho. Woo-hoo, Idaho! Not quite a new state for me — I’d driven through it once before on my way from Montana to Washington — but the first time I was planning to do more than wave as I went by.

Idaho — at least southern Idaho — is very dry. Even in spring, it was immediately clear that we were in a different climate. Part of that was nice — I appreciated the warmth of the sun — but my lips were chapped within what felt like seconds.

We were headed to Boise for our first stop, so we were also no longer on cute, winding mountain roads but on a major highway: flat, lots of trucks, traffic speeding along. And the billboards — for Panera, Taco Bell, etc. — made it pretty clear that we were entering Generic American City. No insult intended to Boise, of course, because every mid-size American city seems to have the same stores, but we spent a couple hours there and then decided to keep going.

It wasn’t just that the city felt generic. We knew we would have fun if we explored, looked for a good restaurant, found its unique spots… but being a tourist in a city when accompanied by three dogs is a challenge. It’s fun to have the dogs on a camping vacation, but less fun to leave them in the van when the sun is beating down on them. At any rate, we’d planned to spend some time in Boise, but by mutual agreement, we cut that time short and headed back to nature.

Our next stop was Bruneau Dunes State Park. As you may recall, I found an article about the 50 best state parks (Bruneau was Idaho’s) and decided to go to all of them. I have now changed my mind. I’m sure they’re all great parks, but “great park to visit” does not necessarily equal “great park to camp.” There are two campgrounds at Bruneau and one of them (Eagle Cove) is a parking lot: pull-through sites in parallel lines, no real space between sites. The other one (Broken Wheel) is better, more spacious and with a good view of the hills but compared to our Bully Creek county park… well, it’s always hard when you leave a really nice campground/site to go to an average campground.

There were some nice trails, though. I have to admit that I didn’t try them out — Z and I limited our walk to half way around the campground, because I was tired out from all the driving. But S and Riley took the walk to the observatory and approved. And we did visit the lake, which — well, was really buggy. But pretty!

The dunes by the lake.

It was also nice to be able to plug in to electricity, because it meant that I could use the InstantPot to make risotto. For dinner, we had chicken-apple sausage with carmelized onions; salad with mixed greens, blackberries, goat cheese and fig vinaigrette; and asparagus risotto. Just your average camping meal, right?

Risotto, sausage, salad meal.
For Alice, who likes food pictures. 🙂

And the night sky was lovely, I’m currently listening to many birds chattering away, and the dunes themselves really are rather spectacular.

Scenery picture with brown hills, desert grasses.
Very scenic dunes. Also very dry, very sandy. That shouldn’t have been a surprise!

John Day Fossil Beds to Bully Creek Campground

03 Friday May 2019

Posted by in Adventures, Campground, Food, Travel

≈ 2 Comments

Our Painted Hills campsite was lovely, but we were definitely still in road trip mode: by 9AM, we were packed up and on the move. We went straight to the Visitor Center at the John Day Fossil Beds, where we watched their movie and learned about the fossils and geology and wandered through their very nice museum of fossils. Then we drove to one of the trail heads and took a short hike through some really incredible terrain.

A lot of the time, when I’m visiting somewhere new, I connect it to someplace I’ve seen before — oh, this is like Washington State only with shorter trees, or this reminds me of Louisiana or whatever. Even the Badlands, which is pretty unique terrain, made me think about B movies from the 1950s. This terrain, though, reminded me of absolutely nothing: I had never seen anything like it.

Hills at the John Day Fossil Beds
The light was again so bright that the photos just don’t do justice to the experience. But these hills are packed with fossils, one of the richest fossil beds in the world because of a series of volcanoes thousands of years ago.

another view from the trail, with blue sky, light fluffy clouds, hills, and green scrubby brush.
Another view from the trail.

By the time we finished our walk, it was close enough to lunchtime to justify eating, so I made us salads with mixed greens, cold salmon, and a fig vinaigrette. We ate at a parking lot picnic table — using cloth napkins, real silverware and my grandmother’s china, and drinking San Pellegrino sparkling water. It was delicious and also amusing to me: as I said to S, my idea of a picnic is on the pretentious side, I guess.

Mixed greens and salmon with a fig vinaigrette served on a picnic table with cloth napkins and china bowls.
Lunch!

After lunch, we started driving. We’d had no internet for extended periods, which meant our ideas of on-the-fly planning were turning into winging-it and hoping-for-the-best. When we reached the town of John Day, we paused, looked for a place to camp, and decided on Unity Lake State Park. That lasted until we got to Unity Lake, where it was cold and bleak and windy. Onward!

Our revised plan took us to Bully Creek Park Campground, a county park near Vale, Oregon. The reviews of the park weren’t terrific, but that mostly appeared to be because there’s so much arsenic in the water that the campground hosts have to warn you about it. Or — my personal speculation — locals are writing mean reviews in order to keep campers from visiting, because it was lovely. The host gave us a site on the water with a perfect view of the sunset, and an even better morning view of the many, many birds. It was our slowest morning to date, because we sat and bird-watched, then ate a second breakfast/brunch, and didn’t get on the road until after 11.

Serenity parked by the water
Our campsite at Bully Creek Park Campground

Jefferson State Forest and Humboldt Redwoods State Park

27 Wednesday Mar 2019

Posted by in Campground, Travel

≈ 6 Comments

On Sunday, S and I took off on our first mini-road trip. We drove south to Fort Bragg to visit a beach of sea glass. Apparently, at some point in time, Fort Bragg threw their trash in the ocean and as a result, they have a beach that has lots and lots of smoothed glass. (I’d look up the exact details, but in the interest of actually writing a book someday, I’ve locked myself out of the internet for the working hours of the day, so if you’re interested in the specifics, I leave the googling to you. Glass Beach, Fort Bragg, I’m sure you’ll find it.)

Dog on beach
Happy, happy, happy Zelda, running free at the beach. Basically, her favorite thing ever.
sea glass & rocks
The composition of the “sand” she’s running on.

Our plan included a late lunch at a restaurant we’d read about and then camping at Jefferson State Forest, but after a relatively quick visit to the beach at high tide, I got nervous about our timing. We’d gotten off to a late start and I didn’t want to wind up reaching the campground after dark, only to find it full. It was a ridiculous worry, because it was a Sunday night in the middle of March, and the campground was not going to be full. Still, I suggested we skip the restaurant until the next day and head to the campground.

The campground was not full.

It was closed.

But there weren’t any signs saying “no overnight parking,” so… we camped there anyway. I stayed in the day use parking lot and S and her two dogs trekked a short distance up the road to a campsite where she set up her tent for the night.

I’d left my phone in the van, but as we got settled, I wandered around thinking about all the great pictures I’d take on Monday morning. The majestic redwoods, the lush ferns, the incredible green of the spring grass, the light through the branches. Ha. In the night, it started to rain. And it rained, and it rained, and it rained. I lived in California for over ten years — admittedly, farther south — and I think it’s rained more in my month in northern CA than it did in the entire decade that I lived in the state. I, of course, didn’t mind the rain. I was snug in Serenity, cuddled up with my dog. But S got to discover that her tent has started to leak. Ah, the delights of camping.

On Monday morning, we went back to the glass beach, at low tide, and had a very fun, only mildly damp, ramble. My favorite moment of the entire trip was when Z ran away on the beach. Riley, the youngest of the dogs, had headed off on an ambitious excursion and S and Buddy were following him. They’d crossed a fast-flowing stream of water into the ocean onto a rocky area and I wouldn’t let Z go that way. I wasn’t sure how strong the current would be and I didn’t want her to get swept away. So she turned around and ran back the way we came, up a steep slope, trying to catch up with Riley that way. I chased after her, but she was fast! At the top of the hill, she gave me such a great doggie smile. Good rainy beach day with a happy dog is a delight.

After the beach, we went to the restaurant, a place called Mayan Fusion. It was incredibly good. I had kebabs with chimichurri and a Mayan salad with jicama and pumpkin seeds and grapefruit, followed by fish tacos (which also became my dinner) and S had sweet corn and a pork dish (which also became her dinner). It was so delicious that S is already planning our next trip to Fort Bragg (a three hour drive away) to eat there again.

We wandered around Fort Bragg a little, not exactly being good tourists but glancing at the train depot and the last building from the old Fort Bragg, and then headed north. I wanted to stay at Humboldt Redwoods State Park for the night. After two and a half years of traveling, I’ve finally decided that my travel goal is to go to every state park on this list of the best state parks. I’d been thinking I’d try to camp at a state park in every state, but the so-called “best” state parks of every state will be even more fun. And conveniently, Humboldt was nicely close.

A panorama of a redwood tree with S building a fire before it.
The only way to get a real picture of the redwoods is to use the panorama setting.

We got a nice little campsite right next to a redwood so huge you could walk inside it, built a fire, enjoyed the fresh air, and ate our leftovers for dinner. And when it started to get dark, S tried out #vanlife and slept in the other twin bed. She’s not giving up her tent anytime soon, but she is now at least a little bit of a convert to the convenience of a real roof.