Lassen Cinder Cone

Having survived a night with no neighbors but with bears and rabid squirrels, we decided to climb the cinder-cone above the lake:

There's only one way up, a 1-in-3 gradient complete with ankle-deep volcanic ash:

Deep Thought sets the pace, Little Starlet shows great determination in catching up:

Meanwhile, a lone tree clings to the slope:


Half-way up, we get a view of Lassen Peak:
Resting at the top of the volcano:
Walking down into the crater itself:

And back at the crater's rim:

Finally, hungry kids headed back for lunch:

Crater Lake to Lassen via Mount Shasta

Saturday, we drove from one spectacular volcanic site - Crater Lake - to another - Lassen - via Mount Shasta. Here's Shasta, approaching from the North:

And again, but with Dad and Dr. Mom:


Then again, Mount Shasta from the South:

Little Starlet and Deep Thought in the RV, preparing to watch a video:

And letting off steam, after arriving at a remote, near-deserted campsite full of helpful warning signs about "Bears Active Day And Night." Oh, and the cute squirrels have plague, too.
Another view of the same lake; note the piles of lava opposite, from an eruption dated to 1650.
After looking at the lake, we returned to the RV, and realized we were alone as far as the eye could see...

Woman the Cave Keeper

I am tackling a Mount Shasta-sized pile of laundry that is currently taking up an entire side of our kitchen.

The Final Stretch

We belatedly discovered that the RV is supposed to be dropped off before 11am on the last day of rental. Of course I had not figured this into the plans, and since we were in Lassen on Monday morning, there was no way we could make it. I telephoned the rental agency on Saturday to request an additional day of rental, which they said we couldn’t have as the RV is due to go out again on Tuesday with another party. So I told them we’ll just have to be late, and they’ll charge us $30 per hour after 11:00am. It’s all very annoying, but there you are.

We set out from Butte Lake at 7:30am, allowing ourselves plenty of time to traverse the gravel road again, then it was along highway 44 to Redding. Alas Little Starlet threw up just outside Palo Cedro (about a mile from the freeway) causing a short stop plus a slightly unfortunate odor to waft about the RV for the rest of the drive. At Redding we joined I-5 and drove for many wearisome hours through the dull, flat landscape. On I-505 we stopped at Winters for lunch in a Round Table Pizza (the worst pizza we have had on this trip by far) and then plunged into the madness of the Bay Area's traffic. The GPS reckoned it was a 316 mile trip.

We got home about 2:30pm, threw everything into the house, and Hubby set out again for San Leandro at 3:15pm to return the vehicle. He had to empty the waste tanks and refill the gas en route; and did not get back to Palo Alto till around 6:00pm. It was a very long day for him - but he was a total star, and drove the beast beautifully every day, the whole way.

Climbing the Cinder Cone

Sunday morning - We set out on the 4 mile round trip to Cinder Cone and back. The walking is very hard underfoot, like marching across sand dunes. The cinders range from gravel size to sandy and are soft. We passed along part of the California Trail (Deep Thought studied the 1850s emigrations in school this year) through the pine forest and along the side of the “Fantastic Lava Beds.” They’re really called that: They are huge piles of basaltic lava rocks that were spewed from the Cinder Cone in about 1650, its last eruption.

Reaching the base of the Cinder Cone, you look across an almost dead landscape – there are a few new pine trees creating new life here – towards the “Painted Dunes”. These are cinder dunes that were oxidized during the eruption process and so have red lines and patterns on them.

We set off up the steep slope of the Cinder Cone itself (with a bunch of other people, including a family with a 3 and a 4 year old). The walking is even harder going here, and it really is steep, about a 35 degree slope. After about 100 feet, I could not manage any more – it was the combination of steepness and loose cinders that put me off – so I retreated to the base. Heroic Hubby and the Terrific Twosome continued upwards, about 1000 feet altogether, to the rim of the cone. It took them quite a while, and they felt the climb, but they had a great sense of achievement when they got there. While they climbed, I took the “bypass” route around the base of the cone to the point where it veers away into the wilderness. And then I sat on a log and waited for them.

Meanwhile, up the cone, Hubby was taking many photos while the twosome were groaning and eating pretzel rods. They walked a little way into the cone itself, then stopped before they had to retrace too many steps up yet another steep incline. The view from the rim was, apparently, quite spectacular. Deep Thought reports that you could see both lakes (Butte and Snag); Lassen Peak (which last erupted in 1914); the Painted Dunes and Fantastic Lava Beds, and various other volcanic peaks and lots of small trees. She was impressed, though Little Starlet was more concerned about the state of her legs and her shoes, which did indeed prove to be full of rocks.

Speaking of shoes, at the start of the descent, Hubby’s right hiking book fell to pieces. The sole became detached, and he walked back on the inner sole alone. Little Starlet brought the sole down the cone, brandishing it like a trophy in a big game hunt. They laughed at him a lot, and I laughed some more when they reached me on my log.

Most repeated sentence of the day (to Little Starlet): “You can do it!”

Best Discussion So Far

Dr Mom: “Do you think we could get an RV onto our driveway?”
Hubby: “Shall we send an email to Judith [the architect] and ask if we can modify the garage roof so we can park one on the side of the house?”
Deep Thought: “Next time, can we fly somewhere and get an RV? I want to go to Mount Rushmore.”

If You Go Down to The Woods Today...

Writing on Sunday August 30...

No bears so far. No mountain lions either. Deep Thought and Little Starlet found a frog in the water fountain this afternoon. We haven’t seen much else in the way of wildlife. There are hardly any birds: perhaps there isn’t any food. The Golden-Mantled Ground Squirrels are here in abundance, as they were at Crater Lake. The kids were thrilled to see them, though I dampened their enthusiasm by reading them the sign saying the local critters are probably carriers of the plague.

Crater Lake

Friday we visited Crater Lake, walking by the rim, and driving the circumference. The lake is so striking visually it is hard to resist taking many, many photographs. Here's one that shows some lake as well as some of the ash-covered slopes by the volcano's explosion.


Next one shows some cliff in the forground, the lake of course, and the far shore strewn with volcanic ash. Although the major eruption was 7,500 years ago, much of the shore remains uninhabitable even for trees.


...And detail of the shore:

Next, a view across the lake - note the blue color remains strong even under a cloudy sky. According to the park rangers, the water is exceptionally clean - there are no streams carrying sediment or pollutants into the lake (all run off flows away, down the outside of the volcano), instead the lake is filled by the huge quantity of snow (forty to sixty feet) that falls directly into the water each winter.

Deep Thought and Little Starlet by the lake.

And finally, no post about Crater Lake could be complete without a cute ground-squirrel picture:

And the Award for Most Isolated Campground Goes To...Butte Lake

Just before arriving at the turn off for Butte Lake campground (in the Lassen Volcanic National Park), I mentioned to Hubby that we had a six mile rough gravel road before us. He was thrilled. It was another bone-shaking, teeth- jarring experience that surpassed the previous winner of the wreck-the-RV competition in the Humboldt Redwoods State Park.

After crawling along at 15 miles per hour, we finally arrived. No ranger in the ranger station and, indeed, hardly anyone in the campground. Butte Lake has over 100 sites. I reckon about 10 of them were filled this weekend; and in our loop, we were the only people. It was actually a bit weird. It was super quiet. We couldn't see or hear any people, tents or vehicles from our site, so the net effect was that we had a rather splendid campsite with as many bear-proof food lockers and picnic benches as you could desire. We also had the toilet block to ourselves. The “beware the bears” signs were much fiercer in this campground – you are instructed not to leave any food around unattended for even a few minutes – so by bedtime on Saturday I was quite freaked out by the atmosphere. And, once again, the kids insisted that we lock them into the RV for safety after they’d gone to bed.

It’s clear that next weekend (Labor Day weekend) the atmosphere will be very different: Every camp site is reserved. It will be heaving here. Butte Lake itself is a very short walk from our site, and is lovely, though rather buggy.

Ironically, while this place was easily the dirtiest we’ve been to on this trip, the campground did not have any showers. The place is situated on grey powdery volcanic cinders. There is very little grass, though plenty of trees (Ponderosa pine mainly) providing pleasant shade. But you do get very dusty and grey whenever and wherever you walk outside (and that’s even before the huge fires constructed by Hubby and Deep Thought start to blow their smoke over you). Little Starlet only had to look at the ground and she was black from head to foot.

Down the Tube

We drove from Crater Lake to Lassen Volcanic National Park on Saturday.

At Old Station, where we needed to turn from 89 onto highway 44, we saw a sign for the Subway Cave. (This had also been mentioned to us by the nice lady at the drive through coffee shop in Weed, just moments away from the Pizza Factory, Ray’s Food Place, and the Shell garage: a very handy stop.) The Subway Cave is actually a lava tube that you can walk through, about 1500 feet long. You need your flashlight and jacket but no hard hat, as the roof is high. It was a welcome diversion for half an hour. We took spooky photos of each other, and admired the different lava features helpfully pointed out by the National Park Service. Another first for the Tin Can Crew.

I Didn't Know the Romans Reached Northern California

Experience is showing that hops of between 150 and 175 miles are ideal. Unfortunately, our round trip has included three hops of 250+ miles. Well, you live and learn. We would have benefited from an overnight between Humboldt and Ashland. The leg we did on Saturday wasn’t quite so bad though. We came out of Crater Lake on highway 62, then transferred to highway 97 which proved to be very straight – I mean very, very straight – through open landscape with background mountains. No stopping points either, so the journey was fast. After a short stretch of I-5, we moved on to highway 89, which also proved to be quite straight, and a generally easy drive. To our annoyance, we got stuck behind a big truck (and it’s mostly a single lane road), but we survived.

As the road passed through Hat Creek Valley, it became obvious that there had been some big wildfires in the area. We saw many acres of blackened forest (and there were still some intrepid campers dotted among them, though they had clearly arrived later than the fire….).

Upper Rogue River Valley Gorge

OK, going back a few days, we drove from Ashland to Crater Lake; mainly a drive along the Rogue River. In the lower sections, the river is wide with towering forested mountains on both sides.Higher up, the Rogue is a white-water stream. Here are Deep Thought and Little Starlet beside the river.
... And the view looking upstream...

...and part of the waterfall.

Passing Mount Shasta

Writing this from the car park of the Pizza Factory in Weed, CA, about to join I-5 for a short way until we turn off on Highway 89 towards the Lassen Volcanic National Park.

We came down Highway 97, which was very straight. Ranching seems to be the main business around here, and the "towns" are very tiny. The landscape is flat with large volcanic mountains to all sides. We were close to Mount Shasta with its impressive glaciers and, of course, stopped to take photos. Our route took us along side the Upper Klamath Lake, which is enormous and beautiful, but the beauty is diminished by the rail-track and phone lines that go along the shore. No stopping points - Hubby was visibly irritated by being unable to stop to look further...

No further connectivity expected till Monday.

Photographing Crater Lake

Friday morning, we drove up to Rim Village from the Mazama Campground, about 15 minutes. The regular parking lot was very full but there were many spaces in the RV parking. We presumed that this was a busy visitor center because Crater Lake is essentially something you experience through driving, which makes it accessible for elderly and disabled people, and for families with small children.

We spent an hour doing the Discovery Trail from Rim Village to Discovery Point. Discovery Point was the place where John Wesley Hillman saw Crater Lake for the first time in 1853. The walk was described as “moderate” but really was easy except for a few vertigo inducing sections of trail – places where I held on tight to Little Starlet, much to her great annoyance (“I’m not a dumbo!”). Though it was only a two mile round trip, it took us some time because of the many photos that we all took.

After the walk we ate our picnic lunch in the RV in the parking lot - a true road trip experience - and then we went on the 30 mile Rim Road drive. Needless to say, Hubby took lots and lots of photos. The whole drive took several hours. The kids' patience had worn very thin by the end.

The Lake is impressive - high caldera cliffs leading to still blue waters - but I don't think we'll be trying to get there again any time soon. There really isn't anything to do apart from a couple of little walks and the drive.

The campground is also probably a zoo in the high summer, though it worked just fine for us. We showered in the coin showers, ate dinner in the Annie Creek Restaurant, dumped our black water ("Smelled like wee," says Hubby) and our grey water, and filled up with fresh.

A Typical Morning on a Driving Day

Little Starlet wakes up at 6:00am, reads her book, then wakes us up at 7:30am (though we’re usually already awake). She pulls back our privacy curtain with a big happy “Good Morning!” Deep Thought drags herself out of bed twenty minutes later: She stays behind her privacy curtain as long as she can.

Hubby collects our mugs, kettle and water from outside. Then he breaks Little Starlet’s bed, reconstructing the dinette. We collect our coins, towels and toiletries, and walk round to the campsite showers. Then we eat a breakfast of cereal. (It’s usually cooked food on a stay-put day.)

Everyone gets dressed, then Deep Thought and Little Starlet wash and dry the dishes while I put them away. We tidy everything that is left hanging around, e.g. clothes, shoes, books. We tidy up as we go along: It is very important to be super tidy in such a small space. As we are in bear country we are careful to make sure all food and anything that looks like it might be food (e.g. a mug) is put out of sight. Apparently the bears can try to get into your vehicle if they think they can see food. Hubby tidies up outside, again putting away anything that is or that looks like food. Visits to the campsite toilets, brushing teeth and hair, medicines, and a final sweep of the dusty floor (with the handy brush that collapses down into a very short length of handle, as provided by the RV company).

If we are moving on, Hubby checks the outside of the RV: storage cupboard locked, door step away, leveling blocks away, any hookup unplugged and the cord away. I check the interior: All cupboards securely closed, air vents closed, windows closed, curtains pinned back, nothing loose on any surfaces or on the floor to slide around, all appliances turned off, water pump off, toilet empty and closed, lights off.

And we’re away.

Welcome to Crater Lake Camping City

Late entry for Thursday evening:

Arrived at Crater Lake and checked into our site at the Mazama Campground. It does indeed have many campsites but the arrangement of sites in loops – we are in Loop B, site 12 – with each site set apart from the next by screens of trees helps to make it feel less like an RV parking lot. Unfortunately we have a very noisy group in the site next door to us. They have a truly gigantic RV, plus a couple of tents, and a party consisting of everyone from granny to the baby, plus a dog. Nice. Writing this at 11:00pm, and they are still amusing each other with bear impressions and general merriment (and loud shushing, which of course doesn’t help at all). It’s probably too much to hope that they will be going away tomorrow…. Not with an RV that big.

Highway 62: An Official "Scenic Byway"

After Medford, Highway 62 takes you through a wasteland of RV vendors, chain fast food restaurants, places to rent cranes and boats, and many opportunities to buy rocks, boulders and plywood. It was really very horrible. The landscape is flat and dry, with the mountains in the background. It could be lovely, but I guess they have to put the electrical substations somewhere. Our overall impression of Medford and environs was of a fairly tatty, semi-industrial town with the obligatory giant lumber mill and Veteran’s Hospital. A bit like a macho Coventry with mountains.

After Shady Cove, everything changed for the better. The landscape isn’t as breathtaking as our route through northern California, but it has pleasing mountains in the background and a lot of trees. As Hubby said, “Aren’t there a lot of trees in the world….?” These ones are a variety of pines and spruces: Juniper, Ponderosa, and Lodgepole, to name just three. They are a bit scrubby looking, but then you can’t have majestic 350 feet high redwoods everywhere, it would just get boring, wouldn’t it? The land further up Highway 62 seems to be used for ranching: We saw horses and cows, and there were even some vineyards. At times the road ran high above the Rogue River, which was obviously popular with kayakers for its white water rapids.

After Prospect, we found ourselves back among the trees, as the road winds through the Rogue National Forest. At Union Creek, we took a short diversion to see the Rogue River Gorge – much tutting and sighing from the kids - and it was spectacular. Congress has determined that this should be preserved as an official “Wild Scenic Place”. I’m not sure whether the ashphalt path and the chain fences help meet that desire, but they did enable us to get close to the edge of the Gorge and have some wonderful views of the rapids and waterfalls. The Gorge was created by a combination of the collapse of lava tubes (lava from the Mount Mazama eruption about 7,000 years ago that is), and the force of the Rogue River water. Over a distance of some 500 feet, the water cascades in impressive leaps and eddies through a chasm probably no more than 25 feet across.

Once again, the kids had got out of the van with their best “This is boring” sighs, and by the end they had really enjoyed the stop. And, of course, Hubby was able to get his camera out again and take several hundred photos of the water, many of which are very good. (Got to give him his due…)

Best Things So Far

Asked Deep Thought and Little Starlet what they had liked most so far about the trip. Response:
(1) The swimming pool at the Jackson Wellsprings campground.
(2) The Shakespeare play. (Little Starlet is now sure she wants to be an actor when she grows up.)
(3) The big redwood trees at Humboldt Redwoods State Park.

Hubby says he likes being able to visit the beautiful places. I liked the big trees too.

Also asked DT and LS what they had liked least about the trip:
(1) The smell of the water at the Jackson Wellsprings campground.
(2) Worrying about bears at Humboldt Redwoods State Park.
(3) The campground at the Bothe-Napa State Park. It was a bit dusty and cramped.
(4) The bumpy and twisty roads, when the RV feels very big.

Hubby says the only thing he hasn’t liked was the smelly water. I wasn’t too sure about being in a “home away from home” at the start – it didn’t feel enough like camping – but as we’ve been able to run the AC when it’s been hot and wrap up in the warm when it’s been cold, I’ve got used to the civilization of it all.

Best things about being in an RV:
(1) Not having to walk around in the dark outside to go to the toilet in the night.
(2) It stays warm when it is very cold outside (like at night).
(3) When it rains you don’t get wet.
(4) It’s easy to go further.

Three Hours in the Old West

Late entry for Thursday:

We arrived in Jacksonville and lapped the town center a couple of times looking for the specially sign-posted RV parking. Eventually we took a bus parking space and hoped for the best (and it was fine).

Our aim was to start with the town museum, then do a walking tour of the town. Alas the museum didn’t open for another hour, so instead we walked up the hill to the historic cemetery. There was a lot of complaining from the small set – it was very hot – but when we got to the cemetery they found it pretty interesting. The cemetery is divided into sections: Catholic, Jewish, City, Freemasons, “Independent Order of Red Men”, and so on. Some of the gravestones commemorate the original settlers in the area: We found a sprinkling of people who had arrived (and died) in the 1850s.

Three things struck us:
(1) There were a lot of very ornate stones that must have been expensive to set, a sign of how important the memorials were to the families. We found one stone that was obviously homemade which had been set in 1930 – Little Starlet realized that this was probably because of the Depression. (So “Annie” was good for something.)
(2) There were a lot of babies and small children in the cemetery, some born and died on the same day, many age 5 and under. The kids found this sad.
(3) People had come to Jacksonville from a wide range of places, including Sweden, Switzerland, Germany, Austria, and Ireland; and from New York, Kentucky, Missouri, Pennsylvania, and Ohio. We didn’t spot anyone from Great Britain or California.

Back in town we had lunch at the “Bella Union” Italian restaurant and walked down the main street, taking a quick look at one of the town wells and many photos of the Wild West frontages. It was quite like Angels Camp on the way to Bear Valley.

We popped into the museum for 45 minutes. It was staffed by a boy and girl aged about 14, both of whom seemed very keen for us to enjoy our visit and fully appreciate their town. It was really pretty sweet. The museum itself was worth the time, with a nicely done display of pioneer materials, information about mining, life in the old town, and the local Ansel Adams, a man called Peter Britt. Jacksonville came to life as a mining camp in 1852 when gold was found. By 1855 most of the gold had gone, and the miners went too. It then turned into a logging and wool town, and also developed a fruit farming hinterland (especially pears). The railroad bypassed Jacksonville in the 1880s and the town got stuck in a time warp.

It was a nice little diversion which didn’t take us too far out of our way, and pleasantly rounded off the cultural portion of our trip.

Lunch On Tuesday.

Tuesday: We had lunch in a restaurant called Apple Peddler. And when we got desert . . .

Success!!!!

He did it, he did it! No mistakes!

Roadside Attractions

Thanks to Bill Bryson, the US is well known for its roadside attractions. So far we have decided to drive past (1) The World Famous Drive Through Tree, of which there seem to be about eight; (2) "World of Predators", just over the border in Oregon: A dusty collection of cages in a field, presumably housing some sad big cats. And (3) "Ocean World" in Crescent City, which says that is it "Fun and Interesting" and offers an opportunity to pat a shark. No giant balls of string or models of the Alps made from pistachio shells around here it seems.

Time To Dump :-)

Now we can dump our Grey waste (from the sinks and shower) dad's giving it a try.

Moving on Day (Again)

Today we leave the delights of the Jackson Wellsprings behind us. We are taking a side trip to Jacksonville, said to be one of the best preserved Victorian gold rush towns in the nation (it was bypassed by the railroad in the 1880s), then it is up to Crater Lake. That should take us just over two hours. The campground we are headed to has over 200 campsites, so we don't have high expectations of "scenic", but there aren't many choices for us RV-ers around there.

Hubby has refilled the water tank again and is currently taking a shower, with the result that the RV stinks of rotten eggs. This place could be called Sulpher Springs, it really is very pungent. We tried brushing our teeth in the RV sink using the Wellsprings water, but when you get to the rinsing part it is actually a bit shocking. "GAK!" we all said, spitting it out.

Hubby's next adventure is to dump the grey water (which is full) and he may try to dump the black water (which still says it's empty).

From two days ago - big black bird of prey - some kind of vulture? - bonus point for any commenter who can correctly identify the species.

View from a Beach

The view from the Smith River Sandy Beach

River Swimming

The swimming ponds by the Sandy Beach of the Smith River.

Smith River

Yesterday, we did our longest drive, 250 miles from Humboldt to Ashland in Oregon. Along the way, we stopped at the Smith River, on US-199.

Cultural Interlude in Ashland

Today we caught the number 10 bus on Highway 99 outside the campground and five minutes later found ourselves on the main street of downtown Ashland (cost a very reasonable $.50 each). After a quick snifter at Starbucks, and a trip to the box office to pick up our theater tickets, we sauntered through part of Lithia Park to the duck pond and playground. As we left the park later, we discovered that we'd hardly discovered any of it - at 93 acres, it rivals Golden Gate Park and was, in fact, landscaped by the same man, John McLaren. (See, this blog is educational as well as entertaining...!)

We pottered along East Main Street, popping into a couple of art galleries and mystic goods stores. Little Starlet bought more rocks, while Deep Thought bought a pink dragon emerging from an egg. The store keeper of "Tibetan Friends" (Ashland has a fair number of Tibetan-themed stores) showed us how the dragon bowl worked - we had mistaken it for a water dish for his dog, and he wanted to set us right. Dampening the palms of his hands, he rubbed the handles of the bowl till the metal vibrated with weird shrieking sounds, and the water jumped in little jets. The kids declined to have a go.

We walked down to the old railroad district of Ashland, which a guidebook assured us was an artists' area, and could find nothing more exciting than Ace Hardware. But the walk along the side streets allowed us to see many lovely little Victorian houses. It reminded me a bit of Los Gatos, with more services for your chakra. It is a very picturesque town. Cheap too - there were a number of very pretty houses for sale with 4+ beds, some with land, at $800k or less. Hubby's eye was caught by a Tuscan estate (clearly it had taken a wrong turning at the cross roads in Milan) on offer for $3.5 million that would definitely have been $12m or more in Atherton or Woodside.

Anyway.

We ate lunch at the Larks Restaurant next to the Ashland Springs Hotel. That looks like it might be a nice place to stay for an adult only visit to the town. Larks provided us with tasty fish and chips, a steelhead fish salad, and charcuterie plate for lunch. Yum.

The object of the day was to go to see "All's Well That Ends Well" at the New Theater, one of the Shakespeare Festival's productions. We had been facing this with some trepidation, wondering what the kids would make of it. Turned out that they enjoyed the experience. We debriefed the kids at intermission, getting them to tell the story back to us, and they were separately able to explain exactly what was going on and who was who (and why). We were impressed, especially with Little Starlet's ability to judge what was happening when two scenes were essentially playing at the same time (e.g. when Helena is in Rosillion worrying about what is happening to Bertram at the war, while Bertram is talking to his fellow soldiers at their camp in Florence). The production values were high, the performances were good, and the theater was excellent - clear sight lines everywhere. It was a thoroughly enjoyable afternoon.

A Strange Smell

One of the defining characteristics of the Jackson Wellsprings commune is its smell. At first we thought it was the toilets. Now we know it is the mineral water.

Nerdy Interlude

No camp fire for us here, but we do have electricity and water. For the nerds among our readers, a full tank of water has lasted us about three days, and a full tank of gas takes us about 300 miles. As for the infamous “black water” issue, this ship has a strict rule: All “number twos” have to happen in the campground loos and not on board. So our black water tank is only 1/3 full so far, and not close to needing to be emptied. In fact the RV's instruction manual says the tank should only be emptied when it is full so that "solids" (lots of delicate euphemisms appear in RV-speak) do not get "left behind" when the "liquids" are drained. We may need to up the wee productivity to get there. Our "grey water" tank is almost full, so we shall need to dump that before setting off from Ashland.

But Hubby is looking on the bright side. He might only need one pair of gloves after all.

[photo by Deep Thought.]

Welcome to Hippy Springs Commune

Tuesday's entry:

Our journey today was about 250 miles. With twisty roads and a couple of stops, they took us nine hours. We were all very happy to arrive at Jackson Wellsprings, our camp site for the next 48 hours.

The RV campground guide book gave Jackson Wellsprings only a 5/10 rating for “scenic” (compared to Albee Creek’s well-deserved 9/10), so we weren’t expecting much to look at, and boy, were we not disappointed.

What the guide book failed to mention was that this is a hippy commune. Yes, there are thirty RV campsites; but only about four of them are for visitors like us. The rest are occupied by long-term residents, complete with dogs on strings, greenhouses, and so on. The folks seem friendly enough if a bit crustier than we’re used to seeing in Palo Alto. There are a lot of goatee beards, dreadlocks (on white guys), and older women in flowing gypsy dresses. The advertised swimming pool (“fed by the mineral spring”) is open to residents and day visitors, as is the spa area; but since it appears to have been built in about 1930 and not renovated since – except for the addition of a large Ganesh statue – it is hard to see why anyone would choose to pop over for a swim.

Hubby took the kids for a splash in the last half hour of the period when children are allowed in the pool area: Clothing becomes optional at 7:45pm and though the kids seemed quite interested to see what might happen, we couldn’t quite imagine what some of the locals might look like unrobed…. Unfortunately, Little Starlet got a face bash and a nose bleed so her swim lasted all of three minutes.

Important benefit of this campground: water supplies to refill the tank and electrical hook ups so we can recharge all our gadgets. Downside: no camp fires.

I'll Take Some Food With My Pie

We stopped for lunch on the edge of Crescent City at The Apple Peddler Restaurant, a fine establishment channeling the spirit of Denny’s. Actually the fish and chips wasn’t half bad, though the appetizer salad came out of a bag and the mixed veg on the side was shudderingly reminiscent of school lunches.

Things did, however, go a bit awry at dessert. This was odd since the APR was clearly the local king of pie. A cold case at the entrance displayed a number of pies and cakes: “Take Home a Whole Pie!” it offered. The menu offered pie by the slice. Deep Thought opted for a safe brownie, while Little Startlet had a caramel ice cream sundae (which arrived in a semi-melted state and proceeded to smear itself over her face and across the table). Hubby and I shared a slice coconut cream pie which consisted of a crust; a soft, sweet, bright orange filling of indeterminate flavor (though not unpleasant); and a large pile of soft, white, whippy stuff (that looked very like shaving cream) on the top.

We all tasted the whippy stuff. Not whipped cream. Not even whipped cream out of a can. Not frosting. Not, in fact, anything we’d ever tasted before. It had the texture of melted something. It was like eating a theater prop, all visual satisfaction and no need to worry about flavor. Then it came to me: This was marshmallow fluff. Hubby and I were eating a food product made of sugar, chemicals, and more sugar, with a bit of coloring thrown in.

It was a glorious enhancement to our all-American road trip experience.

And A River Runs Through It

This section of 101 is called the Redwood Highway as it twists through and around the Redwood State Park, eventually reaching the Del Norte Redwoods State Park and the Jedidiah Smith Wilderness Area. What a lot of trees. It actually begins to feel a little overwhelming, especially when the RV is rattling along the high edge of a road above a river with the trees looming all around in great walls of green.

The Smith River is another awesome sight, with huge boulders creating cascades of white foam into the clear green water. As we drove through the Smith Wilderness Area, we resisted as long as we could, before nature compelled us to get out of our tin can and take a proper look. From a roadside pullout we walked down to the riverside to find another family swimming in the river from a large pebble beach. The kids made friends with their dog, then Little Starlet stripped off her shoes and socks for a little paddle – cut short when she noticed the many water snails clinging to the rocks.

This place was beautiful. We were sorry that our plans did not allow us to spend half a day or more exploring this area. Next time.

Ursine Pleasures

Eureka was a curious mix of big box stores and run down Mom and Pop operations, at once bustling and depressed. It was clearly the hub of the local area with plenty of people about and almost congested with cars (but only almost). We had planned to stop at one of the State Beaches along the coast just north of Eureka, possibly around Trinidad, but the coastal fog was still rolling in from the ocean at 10:30am, so we decided to give it a miss and press on. The freeway at this point is a twisty road with one lane in each direction, and we were delayed a couple of times by road works. (101 is getting a lot of widening and resurfacing in this northern area – given how little traffic we have seen, we have to question whether this is really the best use of our tax dollars!)

Along the redwood coast, the main industry is clearly carving. Of course there is some logging to provide the wood, and the enormous piles of planks here and there betray the existence of a couple of lumber mills, but most people are involved in the business of turning out models of bears made from redwood logs. The town of Orick seems to consist solely of purveyors of fine statues of bears, hawks, bears, Native Americans in feather head dresses, and bears; plus windmills in a variety of sizes. The good people of Orick can also provide a selection of redwood clocks. I guess even wood carvers need to know the time. I wonder if any of them have ever seen a real bear?

The Biggest Tree in the Forest

Mom, Dad and Little Starlet hug a tree claiming to be the largest in Humboldt Forest.

So Many Trees

Little Starlet and Deep Thought amongst the endless, eerie clumps of giant trees; and one of Mom and Dad next to a recently cut redwood.

Three Bears at Humboldt

Little Starlet and Deep Thought were very taken with the photograph the rangers had posted of a Black Bear walking through the campsite a few weeks earlier.

Views across Humboldt Forest

Magical views from the Humboldt campsite, well worth the bumpy drive.

Big Roots.

Mom and Little Starlet stand near the root-ball of a fallen giant-redwood.

A Very Tall Tree

A very tall tree, before we became jaundiced by such things.

First of the Giants

Mom and Little Starlet pose in front of one of the Giants - one of the first places we stopped after reaching the main old-growth Humboldt forest.

After leaving Calistoga, we drove up to Humboldt. Here is a bird of prey flying above the Eel River at the entry to the Avenue of the Giants. Photographed by Deep Thought.

Old Faithful in Calistoga

So here are a few photos from the last few days...
Photo of Old Faithful Geyser in Calistoga. Does exactly what it says on the tin.