Extreme Mom Bravery

It is very important that I mention the extreme reserves of bravery that Dr Mom had to call upon. I had intended for us to to do a two mile, easy loop through temperate forests - the upper and lower Waimano Trail loop - but we didn't take the correct turn to the left to make the loop, and went incorrectly ahead onto the much longer and more difficult Waimano Ridge Trail. (To be fair, the hike books said that the turn was marked with a sign, we sure as heck couldn't see, and one of the books helpfully told us it was marked by two mango trees, two stumps, and a rock....which didn't help much either.)

Anyway, the Waimano Ridge Trail turned out to be about 80% easy with a couple of really hard bits. We strolled along the ridge path, which was quite flat and mostly wide enough to walk with ease. Then we met a small family coming the other way who said we were heading to a place where you had to use a rope to get along the trail. Since our guide book for the loop hike said we would need to "traverse the canyon wall" we thought, at this point, that we were still doing the loop hike. When we actually got to the place with the rope, we started to have our doubts. Hubby will post pictures of the spot in question. Suffice it to say that Dr Mom had to steel herself to hold onto a rope, reach down to a bunch of slippery roots from a high rock, and balance along the edge of the wall clinging to the rope, all over a pretty sheer drop. Of course Deep Thought managed it with no problem, and Little Starlet only needed a bit more encouragement because of having shorter legs. But Hubby was full of praise for Dr Mom for not giving up.

A few hundred feet further on, we met another rope dangling over a bunch of rocks above a narrow ledge. Gosh, we thought, and this walk is meant to be good for beginners? At this point I think we concluded that we were on the wrong trail. Dr Mom got down that one by sitting on a rock in a puddle. Coming back the other way was easier: We all scaled the rocks like goats, and even the precipitous rope-over-drop experience wasn't quite so bad (though both Little Starlet and Dr Mom needed a bit of a boost from Hubby, or our little, unathletic legs might not have made the step up).

Didn't we all feel triumphant at the end of that one!

A Tasty Treat

What Hubby doesn't mention in his blog entry below on the walk to Maunawili Falls is that we forgot to bring bug spray along. As a result we have provided the local mozzies with numerous tasty snacks. Deep Thought claims to have 28 bug bites on her right leg alone. Strangely, Little Starlet, who can usually be counted on to look like a measles victim by the end of any walk, seems to have escaped with barely any bites. Maybe the quantity of mud she had all over her was sufficient protection to keep the little blighters off this time.

Oregon Caves and Applegate River

Yesterday, no Shakespeare, but we went on the cave tour, walked in the surrounding woods, and drove back through the Applegate Valley (lots of horse farms and vineyards, plus the Applegate River). Overall, the trip confirmed that Oregon has endless hills and forests. I guess this is not news.

Grizzly Peak

Today we walked 5 miles up and around Grizzly Peak, about 15 minutes from Ashland. The guides gave warning that the path was half closed, but in fact we met the work crew finishing the path repairs and so we could walk the whole loop. The views were panoramic in all directions, with snow capped volcanoes, views towards the Rogue River, and views across the Ashland / Medford valley. Plus, wildflowers and butterflies were everywhere.

Across - and in Some Cases, into - the Salt Flats at Badwater (Thursday Feb 18 cont'd)

After lunch, we walked over to the Visitor Center to wrestle again with the “free wi-fi”. This time we had some success, as the blog testifies (see below for multiple entries posted all at once). The bandwidth was insufficient to allow Hubby to post the hundreds of photos that he wanted, so that has to wait for a better service. Watch this space.

I also asked in the Visitor Center for some advice on walks we could do. Our options are a bit limited by the fact that our vehicle is a 25 foot long RV. It turns out that Death Valley is really a driving park. We now have a better appreciation of why so many people are towing cars behind their motor homes. There are very few trails and those which exist tend to be of the out-and-back type (rather than a loop), which are reached by driving down dirt tracks. Many of these tracks are labeled for four wheel drive, high clearance vehicles only. They are too rough for bicycles. We’ve noticed numerous motorbikes on the roads; and these do seem the ideal way to get about the park.

Our options have also been limited by the closure of several minor roads due to mud. This might seem strange in a desert, but there has been some rain over the past few weeks resulting in muddy conditions which will, I guess, dry to difficult ruts if cars are allowed on the roads. So the affected roads remain closed. Alas, this puts the kybosh on the walk I had planned for Friday morning, along Titus Canyon. The ranger in the Visitor Center agreed that we hadn’t many choices. We’ve decided that we’ll opt for the easy trails at the Salt Creek Interpretive Center and perhaps the Harmony Borax Works tomorrow. As for today, we decided to spend the cool part of the afternoon at the salt flats in Badwater.

Badwater is a natural spring that oozes out dense salty water. It is the home of a rare tiny snail that lives nowhere else on earth. (We didn't see it.) The information signs explain that the water accumulated underground in the last ice age and that the salt leaches out of the rocks around it. The spring area is protected by a short boardwalk. Visitors are then permitted to walk out onto the salt flats (which cover a five mile area). We walked out as far as we could, which was to the edge of the area that was fairly dry, about half a mile. Little Starlet decided to be naughty and bumptious, and walked out further, sinking into the glutinous salty mud up to her ankles. (That’s one pair of socks destroyed and a pair of sneakers caked in stinky poop-colored mud.)

The salt flats are, well, very flat and dominate the floor of Death Valley. In the sunshine they shimmer with the promise of water – which of course turns out to be completely undrinkable. It must have been a great disappointment to those poor 49ers and pioneers, for whom we are developing a strong sense of sympathy. The salt crystals form a crust on top of the sandy mud, creating little mountainous peaks that echo the mountains ringing the valley. It’s a thing of great beauty on a small scale. The kids took a lot of photos…. We were also able to watch the sun set over Telegraph Peak, which has an elevation of 11,048 feet (in contrast to Badwater’s elevation of 282 feet below sea level, which makes it the lowest point in the USA). Nice.

We finished the day back at Furnace Creek with a slightly strange pasta sauce concoction for dinner - the joys of camping - and a round of our new board game, Snorta. Deep Thought set the fire up for mom and dad’s evening entertainment.

We can’t get over how quiet this campground is. Each evening, our campfire has been one of a small handful. Last night it seemed to be the only one. Deep Thought reckons that this might be because there aren’t many kids around, so the adults are able to go into their motor homes whenever they want. She also thinks that the high percentage of seniors in the campground might be a contributing factor, older people wanting to keep warmer and all that. It is true that we are seeing a lot of elderly campers, and we’ve met some of them doing their email in the shadow of the Visitor Center. Many seem to have fled the cold weather in Oregon and Washington state. We’ve even met a couple from Calgary in Canada. It also seems pretty common for these older folks to be spending months on the road, hopping from campground to campground in the warmer south. Given the size of many of the RVs – Enormous! Huge! Giant! Ridiculous! – it’s easy to believe that life could be sustained in them quite adequately for five or six months. Maybe that’ll be me ‘n’ Hubby one day.

Death Valley - Mosaic Canyon

Still in Death Valley, connected to Internet over something with less bandwidth than damp string, but thought I'd post a picture. Here is the lower, narrow part of Mosaic Canyon; the rock has been scuplted smooth by the intense flash floods.

Mosaic Canyon (Thurs. Feb 18)

Little Starlet had a bit of a problem in the night with her bladder. When we came in at 10:30pm, we discovered she was a bit damp and had made a puddle on the floor. I suspect she had dreamed that she had reached the toilet. Hubby and I undressed her, dried her, re-dressed her, and turned over her duvet without waking her up. I think the poor lamb was a bit exhausted. (Deep Thought didn't wake up either, and she is usually a light sleeper; but we weren't holding her legs up by the ankles.) Anyway, no real harm done, and Little Starlet took it all in her stride. We dried everything out in the sun this morning while we were out at Mosaic Canyon.

This canyon is just west of Stovepipe Wells. To get there, you drive down a two mile long gravel road: Shades of the drive into Butte Lake campground last year, but not so intense. Everything rattled a lot, and we had to stop twice to stop things sliding off Deep Thought's bunk, but we survived. Hubby just loves those drives.

Mosaic Canyon is so called because the walls are, at least at first, made of conglomerate with large chunks of marble. It's very appealing, with a sort of tortoise shell pattern. As the canyon continues, it gets single-file narrow, and you have to clamber up smooth marble shutes (which you later have to slide down on your bottom, much to the entertainment of the kids). The walls are very smooth indeed. Deep Thought wondered why all the marble had not been extracted, but we guessed that it had too many gractures in it to be usable.

After the narrows, the canyon opens out into a valley, quite broad, and easy to see how the water rushes down it in a flash flood. In fact it was quite plain to see how much force the water would acquire as it moves from the plain to the narrow canyon. It must be quite a torrent; and thus the smoothness of the marble canyon walls.

The walk ends at a dry fall which I had no intention of clambering down, though apparently if you do the canyon continues for another half a mile. All told, it was a three mile round trip, not as challenging as yesterday, but pleasant and quite different from Golden Canyon. Hubby took about 200 photos of rocks.

This afternoon we are heading over to Badwater, which is the lowest place in the USA (about 282 feet below sea level).

All Quiet in Death Valley (Weds. February 17)

Furnace Creek is a very quiet campground. Hardly anyone seems to sit out in the evening. By the time we went to bed at 10:30pm, we seemed to be the only people still outside their RVs. There are also a few people in tents – they seem to go to bed earlier. I guess that people are trying to get an early start, which is highly recommended if you are planning to go for a walk.

This morning we were at the Golden Canyon trail head by 9:00am. Our plan was to walk the Golden Canyon’s interpretive trail, then continue on either the Zabrieski Point spur, or make the walk into a loop by taking the Gower Gulch trail. In the event, 500 feet of climbing persuaded the kids that there was no way they wanted to climb a further 400 feet to Zabrieski Point so we did the loop. It really was pretty steep. The walk was about four miles. I felt very virtuous!

Anyway, Hubby’s photos will no doubt show the glories of the landscape, so I’ll just make a few comments. When we started down the trail it was pleasant and fairly cool. By the time we arrived back at the RV three hours later, we were all very hot. It’s probably in the mid to high 70sF by noon, though the hottest part of the day is actually 2:00pm to 3:00pm. The walk through the Golden Canyon was impressive – that’s pretty much what we say every five minutes: “Wow, look at that rock formation, isn’t it impressive?” – and quite varied. Much of the canyon is mudstone, but there is also a magnificent red cliff – “Red Cathedral” - which looks like draperies and buttresses made of delicately carved stone.

One of the things that has really struck us about Death Valley is how colorful it is. Brought up on Westerns and Laurence of Arabia, we tend to think of desert as yellow sand, but Death Valley is far from that archetype. Every set of cliffs is awash with a wide palette of colors: yellows, greens, pinks, reds, purples, black, cream, even a little blue. The variety is astonishing. Little Starlet is in rock collector’s heaven, though it makes the walking slow (and, of course, we tell her that she can’t keep more than one or two little rocks from the many finds she makes).

After we walked through the Golden Canyon itself, we climbed up to the sheer face of Manly Peak (named after a man called Mr Manly, not a statement of how butch you need to be to get there) – which reminded Deep Thought of Half Dome in Yosemite - and then turned left into the winding, damp bed of the gulch. This part of the walk was rough, rocky and winding. Little Starlet lost the will to live after about an hour, but Deep Thought insisted that the end was “just around the corner” and generally went all girl scoutish on us to keep our spirits up. It made a change from the waves of teenage hormones that have been somewhat evident on this trip…. We passed the entrances to several abandoned borax mines created, it seems, by lone miners mostly in the 19th century. Little Starlet and Hubby went to stand inside one of the most cavern-like, but carefully did not move further than the entrance as we have heard all about the hazardous nature of these mines (hazards which can sometimes include abandoned and, by now, unstable dynamite).

The gulch took us through what is termed the “badlands”. Arid and bleak, very little clings to life here, just the occasional desert holly. Deep Thought saw a lizard on the trail, the first we have seen since arriving. Putting ourselves in the shoes of the pioneers, we felt that if we’d ended up in a place like this, we’d have simply given up hope of survival. Those old timers sure were tough.

At lunchtime, back at Furnace Creek, we spotted a kangaroo rat. This is one of the few mammals that lives around here; the coyote is at the top of the food chain. Kangaroo rats are notable for having nostrils that enable them to reabsorb the moisture that they would otherwise breathe out. Little Starlet said it was like “a big chipmunk with a super curly tail”, which is a pretty good description.

Later in the afternoon we headed out to the sand dunes close to Stovepipe Wells. We left it a little late, so we only had half an hour of the best light. (Hubby was frustrated to be thwarted in his plans to take a hundred photos of sand.) We decided to yomp across the sand towards the highest dune and it was great fun. Deep Thought and Little Starlet headed off in one direction while Hubby and I took another, but it was all very safe as we could see each other (and the many other people) all the time. The sand is super soft, but easy to walk across with a modicum of determination. The walk from the parking lot and back is about a mile and a half. Again, it’s another dramatic but really different landscape. This one fitted better with our preconceptions of what a desert should look like, but in fact sand dunes make up only a very small percentage of the overall acreage of Death Valley.

We were surprised to spot a couple of kids on sleds sliding down one of the steepest dunes. My kids thought they were crazy but they looked like they were having fun. Erosion is not an issue in the sand dunes area, it seems. Visitors are allowed to walk wherever they like, and the wind tidies up and makes it neat again. If time allows, we plan to revisit the dunes on Friday.

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!”

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.

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.

In the Land of the Giants

And here’s our blog entry for Monday August 24….

The day started bright and chilly with the RV windows fogged with condensation and Little Starlet climbing into our bed complaining of cold toes. We spent 50c each on a shower in the campground facilities and it was money well spent (especially for Little Starlet’s feet).

Today was a hiking day. Over the course of five hours we walked a mile of the Bull Creek Flats Trail, then across the creek onto Mattole Road, up the Addie Johnson Trail (and back, as that isn’t a loop), and returned to Albee Creek campground via the Homestead Trail. Our route took us through silent groves of old growth redwood trees, where there were few birds or tourists to interrupt the solitude. We practically had the place to ourselves. Unfortunately, Little Starlet would not stop yakking, which really spoiled the almost creepy stillness of the forest; so Deep Thought and I pressed on ahead, leaving her with Hubby and his new camera to take many, many, many photos of tall trees.

Most overused sentence of the day: “Look, there’s a big tree.” It was one of those places that made you feel privileged to be there. There’s something about a tree that is so straight and tall that you can hardly see where the canopy begins that makes you feel insignificant. Some of these trees are 50+ feet in circumference, and 350+ feet tall. Some are thought to be well over 1,000 years old. It’s strange to think of a living thing that was already growing when the Vikings were looting and pillaging our Anglo-Saxon ancestors.

We were perhaps even more impressed by some of the fallen trees, many of which were real giants in their prime. When the trees fall, they pull up their root balls. They seem comparatively small for such large plants, but leave large holes in the ground, and tower above us like great tufts of ossified Medusa hair. Deep Thought was impressed from the start, and even Little Starlet stopped her chatting to focus on the incredible things around us.

Our walk up Addie Johnson Trail was a diversion, aiming to give us a bit more exercise. We climbed to the top of a steepish hill – Little Starlet shamelessly got her Dad to carry her part of the way on his back, while Deep Thought practically sprinted up in a display of Mom-shaming fitness – to arrive at a view and the grave of Addie Johnson. When she died in 1880 at age 27, she was the first white woman to do so in the area. We didn’t learn anything else about her, but an information board close to the Big Tree Area told us that pioneer homesteading began in this area in 1870. It’s amazing to think of European settlers coming to farm this land as recently as that.

By the time we got back to the campground, we were all quite exhausted and had a collection of over 200 photos of redwood trees between us. We finished the day with board games by the fire and some star-gazing. It’s been a perfect visit to a beautiful area. We would thoroughly recommend it.

And When They Were Up, They Were Up...Except When They Couldn't Make It

Hubby has delegated all activity and route planning to me, so I have spent several evenings glued to the computer trying to work out ways to get back to nature, etc, without any of us keeling over. Analysis of the trail maps for the State and National Parks where I've selected our camp sites reveals an alarmingly large number of trails marked "strenuous" and very few marked "easy for people who haven't done any exercise in the past month."

I presume Deep Thought will be fine, with a week of soccer camp in her back pocket, following hard on the heels of her two weeks at away camp where she was board diving, rock climbing and so on. Hubby seems to maintain some residual level of fitness even when he is a total couch potato - and he has managed a few cycling outings recently, so he's not so bad. I'm a bit concerned about Little Starlet - whose weekly gymnastics class makes her very red and sweaty - and perhaps a little more concerned still about me, a person who needs to take a rest on the sofa after carrying in the shopping bags.

Hubby reminds me of an incident in our younger days, when we were walking in the Peak District and, in an attempt on a steep slope, I sat on the floor and refused to go any further until he gave in and allowed us to retreat downhill to the nearest pub. He seems to think that now I am older and wiser, and a mother, I might be shamed by such behavior (at least in front of the smaller set). How little we get to know our partners, even in two decades. Besides which, nothing about my lack of enthusiasm for exercise would surprise our two.

That said, I am eager to get out into the redwood forests and enjoy some nature, maybe even a bit of solitude. That might be asking a bit much for a family of four travelling by RV, but who said wishful thinking isn't allowed?