Monday
October 25, 2004
Coffeetopia again for a double cappachino for Nancy and a large regular for me, and we were ready for the five or six hour drive back to San Diego and a return to Matt, the cat, real estate and bills to pay, and the routine of life on the Southern California coast. Its not quite like someone returning to Minnesota in the middle of winter, after laying on the beach in Hawaii for a couple of weeks. But the change from the relaxation of rural Oregon, to the congestion of SoCal, from 2 lane highways with little traffic, to 8-10 lane freeways with bumper to bumper traffic can be a bit of a downer. There is something to be said for both lifestyles, I guess, and the purpose of a vacation is to do something which takes you from what you are used to in your daily life, to something different.
The whole state of Oregon has a population of 3.2 million. San Diego county has a population of 3 million squeezed into a much smaller space. People in Bend think their city of 70000 is growing to fast and pushing towards 100000 people in the next couple of decades. Encinitas' population is also about 70000, but it is surrounded on all sides (except the ocean side) by other cities and towns covering all of San Diego county from the Mexican border to the south to Camp Pendleton on the north, to the mountains and the national forest on the east. North of Camp Pendleton, the 12-15 million people in Orange, Los Angeles, Riverside, San Bernadino, Ventura, and Santa Barbara counties fill all the space for a 100+ miles in all directions. California's total population is now about 34 million, Oregon x 10.
Southern California is a vibrant, fast paced place to live, with the best weather patterns in the world! But it also can wear you out. Traffic can wear you out! The high price of living can wear you out! To many people everywhere can wear you out! The "rat race" can wear you out!
On the other hand, anything that happens in our society happens here! There is no chance for boredom! This is not the "boonies"! There are lots of great golf courses, schools and universities, professional sports, theaters, and everything cultural! But that also can wear you out!
Or invigorate you!
Nancy surprised herself and fell in love with Bend. She decided that deep down she was a mountain person more than a beach person. She remembered that many of her favorite times were spent in the mountains of Southern California as a child. She fell in love with the Cascades, and her walk along the Deschutes River in Bend satified the need for "water" in her soul! She also loved the seasons in Bend, and the crispness of the fall weather, and the golden leaves on the trees.
It would be nice to have a foot in both worlds. Some can do that! But that can wear you out too! There will come a time in the next few years when we will decide which world has the most appeal. We will have to go back to the Cascades and to Bend during the summer months to see if we experience the same feelings we found in October with our journey on The Oregon Trail!
Thursday, December 16, 2004
The Oregon Trail--Part XV--TV in Santa Cruz
Friday
October 22
After driving two lane highways through most of Oregon, we were looking forward to getting back on an interstate and zipping along with just a pit stop now and then for gas. We thought it would be about a six or seven hour drive to Santa Cruz. As usual we were up for the early breakfast at about 7:30, and were packed and ready to go about an hour later. Our hostess packed Nancy a muffin to go, and we were off. We drove a whole block to the best coffeehouse in town where Nancy got a double cappachino. And then we were really off!!
Nothern California is very pretty with lots of mountains and trees and rivers. We passed by Mt Shasta, but could only see the bottom half of the mountain due to cloud cover. Our poor luck with seeing high mountains continued! Shades of Mt. Hood! We drove through Redlands, Red Bluff, and a number of small towns just off the freeway. We made a gas stop before we reached the 505 turnoff, I think it was Orland or Williams, whichever is the olive capital of California! We walked through a store selling only olives! But didn't buy any! They had good restrooms! Nancy said she would drive for awhile. It was the first time on our trip, and I was leery! We hit the 505 turnoff and soon were on the I-80 headed west towards San Francisco. After spending almost two weeks in low traffic on two lane highways, getting back to the 8 lane freeways of California was a big adjustment. Nancy wanted to turn around and go back to Bend!! We had to make a stop at Vacaville for a double cappachino to steady Nancy's nerves, and I had to again take the wheel.
We fought our way through the Friday afternoon traffic around San Francisco and San Jose, and were finally on Rte 17 heading towards the coast and Santa Cruz. We pulled in late in the mid afternoon, and we were both relieved to be through the congestion of the San Francisco area and back in the laid back comfort of Santa Cruz.
Both Sara's roommates were home, and we ordered pizza in, along with some good cheap wine. I hit the sack early. Saturday was going to be a busy day. I had promised Sara a new TV!
Saturday
October 23
It was still dark when I got up and out to the coffeetopia for caffiene and the morning paper. Sara and I had a discussion regarding her new TV. They had a 12 inch TV connected to their cable and their DVD player,, but the remote would not work to change the channel. It seemed to me that the TV was so small only one person could watch it at a time. They really needed an upgrade. Sara thought that I shouldn't get anything bigger than a 20 " so it would fit on their stand and wouldn't stick up so high against the window. I thought they should have at least a 25. But I agreed to try to find something a bit smaller, maybe a 23"!
I headed down to Costco sometime after 9 am, getting lost a couple times on the way. Costco in Santa Cruz is a difficult place to find, tucked away in the back of an industrial park!
Even at that early hour the parking lot was humming and filled with giant loaded carts being pushed by mega consumers like myself. I flashed my membership card, passed the terrorist inspection, and was waved into the pile of goods. I headed for the TV area. I looked hard for something mid sized. The 20" was to small, and the next available size was 27". Being a guy, there was no way I was going to buy a 20", so the 27" was it! It was at a great price and onto a cart it went. I took it out to my car, had to take it out of the box to get it in, and off I went.
As I was driving, I thought the TV probably wouldn't fit on the existing stand, and that I had better find a new one for them! Hey, it was Saturday morning--and there were garage sales. so I drove around town looking for garge sale signs. The second sale I stopped at had the perfect stand. She asked $10, I said $5, and we had a deal!! Now I felt really good!!
I got back to Sara's apartment just as she and Nancy were about to leave. When Sara saw the TV she said,"That's so BIG"! I hauled it in and set it up, and in comparison to the 12" TV, it certainly was BIG! But it looked great! One of her roommates was a real TV person. (She owned the 12", and had another 12" in her bedroom). When she came home and saw the new TV, she flushed and almost fainted!! It was World Series weekend and we were all set!
Sunday Night the girls invited over some guys, Nancy made meatloaf and mashed potatos, and we all sat around and had comfort food and watched the game. The consensus was that the TV was just the right size!
We ended the trip as we had started it, at Sara's in Santa Cruz.
October 22
After driving two lane highways through most of Oregon, we were looking forward to getting back on an interstate and zipping along with just a pit stop now and then for gas. We thought it would be about a six or seven hour drive to Santa Cruz. As usual we were up for the early breakfast at about 7:30, and were packed and ready to go about an hour later. Our hostess packed Nancy a muffin to go, and we were off. We drove a whole block to the best coffeehouse in town where Nancy got a double cappachino. And then we were really off!!
Nothern California is very pretty with lots of mountains and trees and rivers. We passed by Mt Shasta, but could only see the bottom half of the mountain due to cloud cover. Our poor luck with seeing high mountains continued! Shades of Mt. Hood! We drove through Redlands, Red Bluff, and a number of small towns just off the freeway. We made a gas stop before we reached the 505 turnoff, I think it was Orland or Williams, whichever is the olive capital of California! We walked through a store selling only olives! But didn't buy any! They had good restrooms! Nancy said she would drive for awhile. It was the first time on our trip, and I was leery! We hit the 505 turnoff and soon were on the I-80 headed west towards San Francisco. After spending almost two weeks in low traffic on two lane highways, getting back to the 8 lane freeways of California was a big adjustment. Nancy wanted to turn around and go back to Bend!! We had to make a stop at Vacaville for a double cappachino to steady Nancy's nerves, and I had to again take the wheel.
We fought our way through the Friday afternoon traffic around San Francisco and San Jose, and were finally on Rte 17 heading towards the coast and Santa Cruz. We pulled in late in the mid afternoon, and we were both relieved to be through the congestion of the San Francisco area and back in the laid back comfort of Santa Cruz.
Both Sara's roommates were home, and we ordered pizza in, along with some good cheap wine. I hit the sack early. Saturday was going to be a busy day. I had promised Sara a new TV!
Saturday
October 23
It was still dark when I got up and out to the coffeetopia for caffiene and the morning paper. Sara and I had a discussion regarding her new TV. They had a 12 inch TV connected to their cable and their DVD player,, but the remote would not work to change the channel. It seemed to me that the TV was so small only one person could watch it at a time. They really needed an upgrade. Sara thought that I shouldn't get anything bigger than a 20 " so it would fit on their stand and wouldn't stick up so high against the window. I thought they should have at least a 25. But I agreed to try to find something a bit smaller, maybe a 23"!
I headed down to Costco sometime after 9 am, getting lost a couple times on the way. Costco in Santa Cruz is a difficult place to find, tucked away in the back of an industrial park!
Even at that early hour the parking lot was humming and filled with giant loaded carts being pushed by mega consumers like myself. I flashed my membership card, passed the terrorist inspection, and was waved into the pile of goods. I headed for the TV area. I looked hard for something mid sized. The 20" was to small, and the next available size was 27". Being a guy, there was no way I was going to buy a 20", so the 27" was it! It was at a great price and onto a cart it went. I took it out to my car, had to take it out of the box to get it in, and off I went.
As I was driving, I thought the TV probably wouldn't fit on the existing stand, and that I had better find a new one for them! Hey, it was Saturday morning--and there were garage sales. so I drove around town looking for garge sale signs. The second sale I stopped at had the perfect stand. She asked $10, I said $5, and we had a deal!! Now I felt really good!!
I got back to Sara's apartment just as she and Nancy were about to leave. When Sara saw the TV she said,"That's so BIG"! I hauled it in and set it up, and in comparison to the 12" TV, it certainly was BIG! But it looked great! One of her roommates was a real TV person. (She owned the 12", and had another 12" in her bedroom). When she came home and saw the new TV, she flushed and almost fainted!! It was World Series weekend and we were all set!
Sunday Night the girls invited over some guys, Nancy made meatloaf and mashed potatos, and we all sat around and had comfort food and watched the game. The consensus was that the TV was just the right size!
We ended the trip as we had started it, at Sara's in Santa Cruz.
The Oregon Trail--Part XIV--Ashland-on-Avon
Thursday
October 21
On the morning we left Bend, it was one of the 300 sunny Chamber of Commerce days! Rte 97 heads straight south. A sign said Klamath Falls 100+miles. I had one big tourist stop left on my agenda, Crater Lake! So an hour or so south of Bend we would be cutting to the west on Rte 138 and heading up into the Cascades towards the lake. Everyone has seen the pristine pictures of the lake. It is the deepest lake in the USA, and a much visited National Park. Our guide book noted that the roads to the lake were often closed due to snow in the winter months. But it was only October!
As we turned onto 138 and headed up in elevation the Sun disappeared, and it began to snow. The Lake is at an elevation of about 6200 ft. We were not accustomed to driving in the snow, and as the road became covered we had visions of sliding down the other side of the hill, and off some steep precipice into a deep gorge! Fortunately, the snow was wet and the tires held the road. We came to the north gate entrance to the Lake and saw a big sign indicating that it was closed. Bummer! The main gate was on the south end of the lake, so we headed in that direction. The south road had been recently plowed and was open, although there was over a foot of snow on the ground with more coming down. We wound up the entrance road to the park and finally reached the Visiter's Center. There was a bus and a few cars in the parking lot, but the Lake was nowhere to be seen. Here we were at a great natural wonder with terrific views, and the visability was about 100ft. The rim road around the lake was completely closed. There were a few people having snacks at the restaurant, and shopping at the gift shop. We bought Matt a couple of post cards. The lady at the desk told us they had been closed the last two days because of snow and about the only thing we could see was the old hotel just down the road about 800 ft on the other side of the parking lot. So we walked over and took a few pictures. It was closed and all boarded up, and I half expected to see a ghost or maybe Jack Nicholson looking out between the cracks in the boards just like he had done in the movie, "The Shining".
I had looked forward to Crater Lake! It was a white-out! Guess I will have to go back!
We headed south again on Rte 62 towards Medford, and the Rouge River Valley. The road followed the path of the river, long known for great trout and steelhead fishing. Since we were no longer in national forest lands, there were small villages here and there along the river, as well as lodging, RV campgrounds, and other businesses. Private homes lined the river in many places. I always had visions of the Rouge as a wilderness river. Maybe somewhere else in its meadering it was.
We were soon entering Medford, and traffic and clutter started to increase. Medford is the largest city in Southern Oregon with a population of about 65000. It is the center of commercial activity in the area, so has good facilities including a small airport, and good medical facilities.
At Medford we connected up with I-5, and 12 miles south of Medford we pulled off at the exit for Ashland.
Ashland is known internationally for its Oregon Shakespeare Festival, which runs from February through the end of October. It also had a quilt shop and a very good knitting store!
The Shakespeare Festival was started with a couple of plays held in an old theater as part of a Forth of July celebration back in the 1930s. Today there are two beautiful indoor theaters and
one outdoor theater which put on professional productions for over 300000 visitors annually. Productions are often sold out months ahead of time.
The small town of about 20000 people is set up for tourists with alot of cafes and shops, as well as many Inns and B&Bs. In the season we would not have been able to just drop in! We drove around the downtown area and found a nice room in a refurbished Victorian home just a block or so from the main street. In getting acquainted with our hostess, we found that she and her daughter were transplants from Solana Beach, almost next door neighbors to our home in Encinitas.
Nancy made a visit to the quilt store and the knitting shop while I walked around looking at menus and trying to decide where to go for dinner. I also checked out any coffee houses I happened to see. We went back to the B&B for afternoon "tea" and consulted with our hostess as to restaurants. One Italian place I though looked good was her recommendation as well, so about six we headed over to eat. I was hot for spaghetti, and that's what I ordered. How could anyone mess that up in an Italian restaurant? What I got was a pile of meat sauce with bits of spaghetti in it. I should have asked for a "correction", but instead picked out the pasta as best I could and ended up with a pile of meat sauce on my plate. I did make a suggestion regarding the dish to the waitress. Of course I was nice. It wasn't her fault, and didn't affect her tip!!
The wine was good!
We went for a walk afterwords and as we walked near the theaters, I suggested to Nancy that we go see what was playing. It was about 7:45, and the plays were starting at 8. Henry the VI part II, was playing in one theater, and The Royal Tannenbaums, a 1930s comedy patterened after the Barrymore family, was playing in the other. I asked if there were any tickets left for the comedy--and there were--and they were discounted to $25 each. Some guy standing there said he had two he would sell me for $20 each, and the ticket seller said "buy them, that's a deal!" (Regular price was $36.50)
We had not intended to go to a play--but that is what Ashland is all about! So we had an enjoyable night at the theater seeing a very well done drawing room comedy by Kaufmann and Ferber. We noticed that our B&B hostess was sitting just a few rows down from us. Later she said that the only time she goes is late in the season when she can get discounted tickets! Our night at the theater alomost made up for missing the view of Crater Lake that morning.
We had a big, firm, KING SIZE bed at the B&B which was very comfortable.
In the morning we were back on I-5 for a run all the way down past San Francisco to see Sara in Santa Cruz again.
October 21
On the morning we left Bend, it was one of the 300 sunny Chamber of Commerce days! Rte 97 heads straight south. A sign said Klamath Falls 100+miles. I had one big tourist stop left on my agenda, Crater Lake! So an hour or so south of Bend we would be cutting to the west on Rte 138 and heading up into the Cascades towards the lake. Everyone has seen the pristine pictures of the lake. It is the deepest lake in the USA, and a much visited National Park. Our guide book noted that the roads to the lake were often closed due to snow in the winter months. But it was only October!
As we turned onto 138 and headed up in elevation the Sun disappeared, and it began to snow. The Lake is at an elevation of about 6200 ft. We were not accustomed to driving in the snow, and as the road became covered we had visions of sliding down the other side of the hill, and off some steep precipice into a deep gorge! Fortunately, the snow was wet and the tires held the road. We came to the north gate entrance to the Lake and saw a big sign indicating that it was closed. Bummer! The main gate was on the south end of the lake, so we headed in that direction. The south road had been recently plowed and was open, although there was over a foot of snow on the ground with more coming down. We wound up the entrance road to the park and finally reached the Visiter's Center. There was a bus and a few cars in the parking lot, but the Lake was nowhere to be seen. Here we were at a great natural wonder with terrific views, and the visability was about 100ft. The rim road around the lake was completely closed. There were a few people having snacks at the restaurant, and shopping at the gift shop. We bought Matt a couple of post cards. The lady at the desk told us they had been closed the last two days because of snow and about the only thing we could see was the old hotel just down the road about 800 ft on the other side of the parking lot. So we walked over and took a few pictures. It was closed and all boarded up, and I half expected to see a ghost or maybe Jack Nicholson looking out between the cracks in the boards just like he had done in the movie, "The Shining".
I had looked forward to Crater Lake! It was a white-out! Guess I will have to go back!
We headed south again on Rte 62 towards Medford, and the Rouge River Valley. The road followed the path of the river, long known for great trout and steelhead fishing. Since we were no longer in national forest lands, there were small villages here and there along the river, as well as lodging, RV campgrounds, and other businesses. Private homes lined the river in many places. I always had visions of the Rouge as a wilderness river. Maybe somewhere else in its meadering it was.
We were soon entering Medford, and traffic and clutter started to increase. Medford is the largest city in Southern Oregon with a population of about 65000. It is the center of commercial activity in the area, so has good facilities including a small airport, and good medical facilities.
At Medford we connected up with I-5, and 12 miles south of Medford we pulled off at the exit for Ashland.
Ashland is known internationally for its Oregon Shakespeare Festival, which runs from February through the end of October. It also had a quilt shop and a very good knitting store!
The Shakespeare Festival was started with a couple of plays held in an old theater as part of a Forth of July celebration back in the 1930s. Today there are two beautiful indoor theaters and
one outdoor theater which put on professional productions for over 300000 visitors annually. Productions are often sold out months ahead of time.
The small town of about 20000 people is set up for tourists with alot of cafes and shops, as well as many Inns and B&Bs. In the season we would not have been able to just drop in! We drove around the downtown area and found a nice room in a refurbished Victorian home just a block or so from the main street. In getting acquainted with our hostess, we found that she and her daughter were transplants from Solana Beach, almost next door neighbors to our home in Encinitas.
Nancy made a visit to the quilt store and the knitting shop while I walked around looking at menus and trying to decide where to go for dinner. I also checked out any coffee houses I happened to see. We went back to the B&B for afternoon "tea" and consulted with our hostess as to restaurants. One Italian place I though looked good was her recommendation as well, so about six we headed over to eat. I was hot for spaghetti, and that's what I ordered. How could anyone mess that up in an Italian restaurant? What I got was a pile of meat sauce with bits of spaghetti in it. I should have asked for a "correction", but instead picked out the pasta as best I could and ended up with a pile of meat sauce on my plate. I did make a suggestion regarding the dish to the waitress. Of course I was nice. It wasn't her fault, and didn't affect her tip!!
The wine was good!
We went for a walk afterwords and as we walked near the theaters, I suggested to Nancy that we go see what was playing. It was about 7:45, and the plays were starting at 8. Henry the VI part II, was playing in one theater, and The Royal Tannenbaums, a 1930s comedy patterened after the Barrymore family, was playing in the other. I asked if there were any tickets left for the comedy--and there were--and they were discounted to $25 each. Some guy standing there said he had two he would sell me for $20 each, and the ticket seller said "buy them, that's a deal!" (Regular price was $36.50)
We had not intended to go to a play--but that is what Ashland is all about! So we had an enjoyable night at the theater seeing a very well done drawing room comedy by Kaufmann and Ferber. We noticed that our B&B hostess was sitting just a few rows down from us. Later she said that the only time she goes is late in the season when she can get discounted tickets! Our night at the theater alomost made up for missing the view of Crater Lake that morning.
We had a big, firm, KING SIZE bed at the B&B which was very comfortable.
In the morning we were back on I-5 for a run all the way down past San Francisco to see Sara in Santa Cruz again.
The Oregon Trail--Part XIII--A Day in Bend
Wednesday
October 20
I had originally planned my day in Bend as a day of golf on one of the many golf courses in the area. However, it had been unseasonally cool for the last few days, and each day it had spitted some rain between occassional spots of sun. On this morning I awoke to a very overcast sky and a steady drip of percipitation. Plus, it was about 40 degrees and probably would not go up past 50 during the day. Being used to the sunshine and weather of San Diego, I had long ago lost the "drive" to golf no matter what the weather, and decided on playing realtor for the day.
At breakfast I had a chat with the other guy from San Diego who had been looking at retirement property. He was also a golfer, and had checked out the Bend Country Club and thought the facilities there were super! He had looked at property all over town and had some good suggestions. He even gave me the name of the real estate office he had used.
Since it was raining, I thought that it would be a great day to drive around Bend and look at different areas and check out pricing. There were three private country clubs I could stop at for information.
I didn't know exactly what Nancy was going to do, but I thought that she wanted to spend her day walking and shopping downtown Old Bend, and just relaxing at the Lara.
So, after Bobye had served breakfast, I was off on my adventure! I made a stop at an auto parts store and bought a couple of quarts of oil for the car. The old Mercedes was doing great on the trip, but needed a quart about every 1000 miles, so it was good to have some in the trunk.
I drove to the east side of town, and made a right on a street that appeared to be the old route of Rte 67. There were alot of old motels and other businesses which would have catered to traffic passing through in earlier days when Bend was a much smaller berg! Bobye had told me that when she moved to Bend 17 years ago, the population was about 17000. Now it was about 70000. So there had been a big change, and the city was still growing fairly rapidly due to people like us who were retiring and moving from high cost areas of California, to the lower costs of Oregon. After L.A, and San Diego, Bend was still pretty small to me!
What made Bend a prime area was the climate. Along the coast of Oregon, rainfall averaged about 60 inches annually. Because Bend was east of the Cascades, most of the moisture got dumped before it could make it over the mountain range, and Bend's annual percipitation was only 12 inches. Bobye said alot of her clients were from Oregon on weekends during the winter, and just came to see the sun for a day or two! The Bend Chamber of Commerce boasted that Bend had 300 days of sunshine annually. I had talked to people from southern California who had moved to places like Portland, and they said it was hard to adjust to grey skies and rain each day, sometimes for months at a time. Because Bend was in the foothils of the Cascades and at an elevation of about 3500 ft, it did occasionally snow during the winter months, but I was told that it didn't stay on the ground for long! There were four distinct seasons, but nothing severe! So Bend had one of the other requirements for life after San Diego--Sunshine!!
I soon found the real estate office and was sitting in their reception room talking with a realtor about her recommendations for my tour of various areas of Bend. She gave me a good map and circled some of the locations that fit my price range. She told me that the best place to buy was on the "west" side, meaning west of new Rte 97 which cut through the middle of town. West was towards the mountains. Old Bend was west side, as was the campus of the small local branch of the University of Oregon. Many of the newer more expensive custom homes, and the two new private country clubs were all on the west side.
Since I was on the east side, that's where I started. The Bend Country Club was on the southeast side of town, so I headed in that direction and drove through some of the neighborhoods in that area before finally stopping at the club for a look see!
It was the oldest club in town. I was told that the original 9 holes were built about 1925. The clubhouse was newer and had great facilities, including men's and women's locker rooms, very nice dining and meeting facilities, two indoor tennis courts, and indoor pool, his and hers excercise rooms, and a driving range. The fairways of the course were defined by pine trees. The course was just what I liked, an old traditionally styled course with the back tees at about 7000 yds. And the price was right!! Another of the necessities of life fulfilled in Bend-- Golf!
While I was standing outside in the cold drizzle looking out at the first tee, a lone golfer hit his drive and took off down the fairway after his ball. Some one was on the driving range hitting balls! Golfers were heartier in Bend than in San Diego. They said they kept the course staff availiable year round, even in the winter. If it was frosted but with no snow, they would set up temporary greens, and members could play! They said most of the courses in the area shut down for 3-4 months in the winter. I guess if we lived there I would probably be out there!!
I headed over to the west side and drove through some of the newer developments, and then headed back towards Old Bend and the Lara. I thought I would stop and see what Nancy was doing. She was just returning from a walk along the river, and said that there was a knit store she wanted to visit, and she wanted to show me some old craftsman cottages near the Lara. We drove by some of the areas I had visited earlier and revisited the Country Club. We looked at the two newer golf clubs on the west side. They were nice, more expensive, and a bit snooty. When we visited her knit store, there was a flyfishing store right next door. While I waited for her, I watched a guy practice flyfishing in the parking lot, and talked with a young guy whose parents lived in San Diego. He said he had moved up to Bend for the flyfishing! Bend! Sun, Golf, Flyfishing!
We decided that a small craftsman on the west side in Old Bend was the desired property, the Bend Country Club was the desired golf facility, and that Nancy was ready to move!! She had always thought that her soul required the beach and the ocean, but upon reflection, felt that her heart was really in the mountains. The Dechutes River appeared to be enough water to calm that part of her Psyche!
It was early in the afternoon, and the Sun was playing peek-a-boo with the clouds, so I guess they could call it another sunny day in Bend.
That night we had dinner at a newer restaurant just a short walk from the Lara in Old Bend. It was modern, a bit expensive, and not particularly memorable.
In the morning we would be heading south, destination Ashland!
October 20
I had originally planned my day in Bend as a day of golf on one of the many golf courses in the area. However, it had been unseasonally cool for the last few days, and each day it had spitted some rain between occassional spots of sun. On this morning I awoke to a very overcast sky and a steady drip of percipitation. Plus, it was about 40 degrees and probably would not go up past 50 during the day. Being used to the sunshine and weather of San Diego, I had long ago lost the "drive" to golf no matter what the weather, and decided on playing realtor for the day.
At breakfast I had a chat with the other guy from San Diego who had been looking at retirement property. He was also a golfer, and had checked out the Bend Country Club and thought the facilities there were super! He had looked at property all over town and had some good suggestions. He even gave me the name of the real estate office he had used.
Since it was raining, I thought that it would be a great day to drive around Bend and look at different areas and check out pricing. There were three private country clubs I could stop at for information.
I didn't know exactly what Nancy was going to do, but I thought that she wanted to spend her day walking and shopping downtown Old Bend, and just relaxing at the Lara.
So, after Bobye had served breakfast, I was off on my adventure! I made a stop at an auto parts store and bought a couple of quarts of oil for the car. The old Mercedes was doing great on the trip, but needed a quart about every 1000 miles, so it was good to have some in the trunk.
I drove to the east side of town, and made a right on a street that appeared to be the old route of Rte 67. There were alot of old motels and other businesses which would have catered to traffic passing through in earlier days when Bend was a much smaller berg! Bobye had told me that when she moved to Bend 17 years ago, the population was about 17000. Now it was about 70000. So there had been a big change, and the city was still growing fairly rapidly due to people like us who were retiring and moving from high cost areas of California, to the lower costs of Oregon. After L.A, and San Diego, Bend was still pretty small to me!
What made Bend a prime area was the climate. Along the coast of Oregon, rainfall averaged about 60 inches annually. Because Bend was east of the Cascades, most of the moisture got dumped before it could make it over the mountain range, and Bend's annual percipitation was only 12 inches. Bobye said alot of her clients were from Oregon on weekends during the winter, and just came to see the sun for a day or two! The Bend Chamber of Commerce boasted that Bend had 300 days of sunshine annually. I had talked to people from southern California who had moved to places like Portland, and they said it was hard to adjust to grey skies and rain each day, sometimes for months at a time. Because Bend was in the foothils of the Cascades and at an elevation of about 3500 ft, it did occasionally snow during the winter months, but I was told that it didn't stay on the ground for long! There were four distinct seasons, but nothing severe! So Bend had one of the other requirements for life after San Diego--Sunshine!!
I soon found the real estate office and was sitting in their reception room talking with a realtor about her recommendations for my tour of various areas of Bend. She gave me a good map and circled some of the locations that fit my price range. She told me that the best place to buy was on the "west" side, meaning west of new Rte 97 which cut through the middle of town. West was towards the mountains. Old Bend was west side, as was the campus of the small local branch of the University of Oregon. Many of the newer more expensive custom homes, and the two new private country clubs were all on the west side.
Since I was on the east side, that's where I started. The Bend Country Club was on the southeast side of town, so I headed in that direction and drove through some of the neighborhoods in that area before finally stopping at the club for a look see!
It was the oldest club in town. I was told that the original 9 holes were built about 1925. The clubhouse was newer and had great facilities, including men's and women's locker rooms, very nice dining and meeting facilities, two indoor tennis courts, and indoor pool, his and hers excercise rooms, and a driving range. The fairways of the course were defined by pine trees. The course was just what I liked, an old traditionally styled course with the back tees at about 7000 yds. And the price was right!! Another of the necessities of life fulfilled in Bend-- Golf!
While I was standing outside in the cold drizzle looking out at the first tee, a lone golfer hit his drive and took off down the fairway after his ball. Some one was on the driving range hitting balls! Golfers were heartier in Bend than in San Diego. They said they kept the course staff availiable year round, even in the winter. If it was frosted but with no snow, they would set up temporary greens, and members could play! They said most of the courses in the area shut down for 3-4 months in the winter. I guess if we lived there I would probably be out there!!
I headed over to the west side and drove through some of the newer developments, and then headed back towards Old Bend and the Lara. I thought I would stop and see what Nancy was doing. She was just returning from a walk along the river, and said that there was a knit store she wanted to visit, and she wanted to show me some old craftsman cottages near the Lara. We drove by some of the areas I had visited earlier and revisited the Country Club. We looked at the two newer golf clubs on the west side. They were nice, more expensive, and a bit snooty. When we visited her knit store, there was a flyfishing store right next door. While I waited for her, I watched a guy practice flyfishing in the parking lot, and talked with a young guy whose parents lived in San Diego. He said he had moved up to Bend for the flyfishing! Bend! Sun, Golf, Flyfishing!
We decided that a small craftsman on the west side in Old Bend was the desired property, the Bend Country Club was the desired golf facility, and that Nancy was ready to move!! She had always thought that her soul required the beach and the ocean, but upon reflection, felt that her heart was really in the mountains. The Dechutes River appeared to be enough water to calm that part of her Psyche!
It was early in the afternoon, and the Sun was playing peek-a-boo with the clouds, so I guess they could call it another sunny day in Bend.
That night we had dinner at a newer restaurant just a short walk from the Lara in Old Bend. It was modern, a bit expensive, and not particularly memorable.
In the morning we would be heading south, destination Ashland!
Wednesday, December 08, 2004
The Oregon Trail--Part XII--The Cascades
Tuesday
October 19
As usual we signed up for the early breakfast setting, which at the Lara was 8 am. I was told that I could come down earlier for coffee, so was there at about 7:30. That was sleeping in for me! One of the guys we had dinner with the night before had beat me to the paper, but he shared, and we had coffee together while our breackfast host, Linda, busied herself in the kitchen. Nancy came down about eight and breakfast started to appear shortly thereafter.
Our first goal of the day would be to head for Sisters, a small village west of Bend and up the foothills about 1000 ft higher in elevation. Sisters was famous for an annual quilt show in the summer which any experienced quilter knew was one of the top shows in the country. The quilt shop in Sisters was the driving force, and had put the little berg on the tourist map, at least as far as quilters were concerned!
We got there just before 10 am and stopped at a small bakery/coffee shop which had an espresso machine. Nancy, of course, had a double cappachino!! The village was quaint and touristy, with "country" style facades on most of the shops along the street, designed to snag people traveling the main highway as they passed by. The main street was the highway from Bend west over the mountains terminating at Salem, about 100 miles away, or with a turn to the south at a scenic mountain junction with another highway up the road, to Eugene to the southwest.
The quilt store was open, and as we entered we both were "dazzled" at the size of the store and the many quilts hanging high on the walls above display racks of fabrics, yarns and quilting paraphinalia! I took some pictures, and thought that Nancy would be spending a couple hours in this place. She thought so too! So I decided to take a walking tour around the village.
Most of the shops on the main street were closed. Maybe it was because it was the off season for tourists, or perhaps they had restricted hours this time of the year. There was an antique shop that was open. I walked through and decided that most of the "antiques" were really reproductions and oriented to the tourist trade. I walked a block off the main drag and found a fly fishing shop and went in to browse. As I entered I was greeted by two golden setters, one old, and one young, probably father and son. The smiled with wagging tails, did their required sniffs of my shoes and pants while I scratched their ears, and then plopped down in their customary "spots" to wait for their next customer. There were three guys in a back room sitting around talking about steelhead fishing. I was standing in front of a bullitin board filled with pictures of big steelhead held aloft by smiling fisherman, no doubt caught by flies bought at this shop!! The condition of the Deshutes River's water flow was also posted showing the pattern on a daily basis for the last few weeks. None of the guys paid much attention to me, probably figuring that if I needed something I would holler! Either that, or they had properly identified me as a bait fisherman and were going to do their best to shun me! I wandered through the shop impressed by their stock of flyfishing equipment, and wondering why a flyfishing rod should cost from $350 and up to rather impressive amounts. Back at home I had a couple of old glass fly rods in the garage, which would probably work OK, and might have cost 10-20 bucks at most when they were new. But that was 40 years ago, and they were not made of graphite composites! I expect that if I become a serious fly fisherman in the future, there would be a graphite rod and high priced reel on my must have list, even though it probably would not catch anything more than the old ones in my garage. Flyfishing! One of the dream reasons for moving to the Bend area. As I left the shop, the dogs had managed to escape and were flopped on the ground just outside. They beat their tails on the ground waving bye-bye, bye-bye as I passed.
Next door to the fly shop there was a thrift shop run by a local charitible organization. Who knew what treasures I would find there! There were 3-4 other smart shoppers at this early hour of the day, searching through clothes racks and setting aside bargains in a small pile to be considered for purchase. I certainly didn't need anything, but it was a bit chilly outside, and at higher altitudes there had been snow, so I started to look through the rack with coats. I saw a nice blue golf jacket with lettering on it that said "River's Edge", and recognized it as a jacket from one of the golf resorts in Bend. It was nice! It fit perfectly! It was $8! What a bargain! ($75-85 new?) It was my only purchase on the trip! I wear it all the time!!
My next stop was a real estate office across the street from the quilt shop. I chatted with a Realtor about the Sisters area, and was a bit surprised at the cost of real estate in Sisters. I thought it seemed a bit more expensive than Bend. She gave me a list of what was available and I thanked her for her time. (I didn't tell her I was also a realtor from San Diego, lest she might think me snooty!)
I had done pretty good with the two hours, so headed to the quilt shop to pick up Nancy. She was almost ready. One of the quilt shop gals pointed me to a sofa and some magazines! I could tell they knew how to handle waiting husbands! Nancy had a successful 2 hours and emerged with a big bagfull of fabrics to add to her collection.
We had decided to take a scenic loop tour through the area south of Sisters that would take 3-4 hours according to our guide book. The guide said that some of roads would be closed due to snow during the winter months. While there had been recent snow, it had only amounted to a few inches and we presumed the roads would all be open, so we took off on the route. The road south mostly followed the McKenzie River, which originated at a small crystal clear lake, just off the road a few miles south of Sisters. We stopped at the resort on the lake. It was closed at this time of the year, but was very picturesque and was surely solidly booked during the summer months. (I seem to remember that it was called Clear Lake-very appropriate!)
The McKenzie at its source was not a big river, but was fast flowing as it tumbled down the rocks through its gorge. There were three waterfalls with parking and access from the road that were 60 or so ft high along the route. We stopped at each and hiked the riverbank to take advantage of the views and the photo-ops. We passed campgrounds which while open, were mostly empty. Sometimes we saw a few RVs out in the woods--cold weather campers! We reached a junction and turned onto a small "scenic" drive which led us upward in elevation. We passed a gate with a sign which said "closed due to snow". It was still open, so on we went!! Our guidebook indicated there were two waterfalls of interest coming up which required a loop hike of about 1 1/2 miles. When we got to the falls parking area there was another couple looking at the map information board. We took off on the trail. They must of decided the hike was not for them since we didn't see them again. Lazy, I guess. I wondered how much they must miss on their trips? We hiked over 2 big lava flows. The forest was very quiet! We didn't even see or hear any birds on our hike! I told Nancy that there were no birds because of the bears!! Then I made growls as I followed a ways behind her! Juvenile behavior! The falls were not the result of rivers, but from springs high on the bluffs, and fell over 100 ft to the valley floor. By this time on our trip we had seen alot of water cascading down from great heights! We were tough to impress! But it was a nice hike!
Back in the car, we continued to climb in elevation, and soon there was about 4-6" inches of snow along the road. We could see where the plows had furrowed the snow off to the side a day before. As we wound up to a higher elevation we popped out of the forest into a lunarlike sea of lava flows covering miles in all directions. It was a black and white landscape with the basalt rock partially covered with snow, leading up to the surrounding fully snow blanketed peaks of the Cascade range. McKenzie pass was at the peak of the road and was over 7000ft high! The road was cut through lava fields and in the center of it all at the highest elevation was a tourist stop with an observation tower called the "Observatory". It was built of lava rock by the CCC back in the 1930s. Stairs of lava rock led up to the top where a large compass disk of metal about 3-4 ft wide was embedded in rock in the center. It was engraved to show the names of the various peaks in each compass direction from Mt Bachelor to the south, to Mt Hood to the north, and all the Seven Sisters peaks between. Under the observation deck was a large room with small window slots, each marked with the name of the peak that one could view by looking through the slot. It was like a fort turret with gun slots aimed at the various mountains. The views certainly emphasized the volcanic nature of the cascade range!!
Leaving the observatory, we wound down the mountain, and soon were out of the snow and into the forested area leading back towards Sisters. It was late in the afternoon, and time to head back to the 2$chuck (Charles Shaw wine, ($1.99) courtesy of Trader Joe's) and afternoon snacks at the Lara B&B to tell everyone about our very successful tourist day. When we got back, I hooked up the laptop, checked my email, and downloaded my pictures from the digital camera. Bobye took a look at some of them and said that it looked like we had a great day. (Probably really just another day in Bend to a long time resident!)
That night we decided to have a casual dinner and headed for the Dechutes Brewery, which was a hot spot downtown with the younger crowd, specializing in beer and ale of course, along with pub type food offerings. It was a busy, noisy place, with sports TV, and young waiters and waitresses toting trays of brews. Both of us ordered a sandwich basket which included fries, along with one of the Dechute Brewery's best ales, and enjoyed the scene!!
It was another crisp night for the walk back to the Lara. It was still early enough to sit and watch a bit of TV in the downstairs sunroom before heading up the stairs about 10 to cozy under the comforter for the night.
Our plan for the next day was for each of us to go our own way for most of the day, and have a "personal" day, just for ourselves!
October 19
As usual we signed up for the early breakfast setting, which at the Lara was 8 am. I was told that I could come down earlier for coffee, so was there at about 7:30. That was sleeping in for me! One of the guys we had dinner with the night before had beat me to the paper, but he shared, and we had coffee together while our breackfast host, Linda, busied herself in the kitchen. Nancy came down about eight and breakfast started to appear shortly thereafter.
Our first goal of the day would be to head for Sisters, a small village west of Bend and up the foothills about 1000 ft higher in elevation. Sisters was famous for an annual quilt show in the summer which any experienced quilter knew was one of the top shows in the country. The quilt shop in Sisters was the driving force, and had put the little berg on the tourist map, at least as far as quilters were concerned!
We got there just before 10 am and stopped at a small bakery/coffee shop which had an espresso machine. Nancy, of course, had a double cappachino!! The village was quaint and touristy, with "country" style facades on most of the shops along the street, designed to snag people traveling the main highway as they passed by. The main street was the highway from Bend west over the mountains terminating at Salem, about 100 miles away, or with a turn to the south at a scenic mountain junction with another highway up the road, to Eugene to the southwest.
The quilt store was open, and as we entered we both were "dazzled" at the size of the store and the many quilts hanging high on the walls above display racks of fabrics, yarns and quilting paraphinalia! I took some pictures, and thought that Nancy would be spending a couple hours in this place. She thought so too! So I decided to take a walking tour around the village.
Most of the shops on the main street were closed. Maybe it was because it was the off season for tourists, or perhaps they had restricted hours this time of the year. There was an antique shop that was open. I walked through and decided that most of the "antiques" were really reproductions and oriented to the tourist trade. I walked a block off the main drag and found a fly fishing shop and went in to browse. As I entered I was greeted by two golden setters, one old, and one young, probably father and son. The smiled with wagging tails, did their required sniffs of my shoes and pants while I scratched their ears, and then plopped down in their customary "spots" to wait for their next customer. There were three guys in a back room sitting around talking about steelhead fishing. I was standing in front of a bullitin board filled with pictures of big steelhead held aloft by smiling fisherman, no doubt caught by flies bought at this shop!! The condition of the Deshutes River's water flow was also posted showing the pattern on a daily basis for the last few weeks. None of the guys paid much attention to me, probably figuring that if I needed something I would holler! Either that, or they had properly identified me as a bait fisherman and were going to do their best to shun me! I wandered through the shop impressed by their stock of flyfishing equipment, and wondering why a flyfishing rod should cost from $350 and up to rather impressive amounts. Back at home I had a couple of old glass fly rods in the garage, which would probably work OK, and might have cost 10-20 bucks at most when they were new. But that was 40 years ago, and they were not made of graphite composites! I expect that if I become a serious fly fisherman in the future, there would be a graphite rod and high priced reel on my must have list, even though it probably would not catch anything more than the old ones in my garage. Flyfishing! One of the dream reasons for moving to the Bend area. As I left the shop, the dogs had managed to escape and were flopped on the ground just outside. They beat their tails on the ground waving bye-bye, bye-bye as I passed.
Next door to the fly shop there was a thrift shop run by a local charitible organization. Who knew what treasures I would find there! There were 3-4 other smart shoppers at this early hour of the day, searching through clothes racks and setting aside bargains in a small pile to be considered for purchase. I certainly didn't need anything, but it was a bit chilly outside, and at higher altitudes there had been snow, so I started to look through the rack with coats. I saw a nice blue golf jacket with lettering on it that said "River's Edge", and recognized it as a jacket from one of the golf resorts in Bend. It was nice! It fit perfectly! It was $8! What a bargain! ($75-85 new?) It was my only purchase on the trip! I wear it all the time!!
My next stop was a real estate office across the street from the quilt shop. I chatted with a Realtor about the Sisters area, and was a bit surprised at the cost of real estate in Sisters. I thought it seemed a bit more expensive than Bend. She gave me a list of what was available and I thanked her for her time. (I didn't tell her I was also a realtor from San Diego, lest she might think me snooty!)
I had done pretty good with the two hours, so headed to the quilt shop to pick up Nancy. She was almost ready. One of the quilt shop gals pointed me to a sofa and some magazines! I could tell they knew how to handle waiting husbands! Nancy had a successful 2 hours and emerged with a big bagfull of fabrics to add to her collection.
We had decided to take a scenic loop tour through the area south of Sisters that would take 3-4 hours according to our guide book. The guide said that some of roads would be closed due to snow during the winter months. While there had been recent snow, it had only amounted to a few inches and we presumed the roads would all be open, so we took off on the route. The road south mostly followed the McKenzie River, which originated at a small crystal clear lake, just off the road a few miles south of Sisters. We stopped at the resort on the lake. It was closed at this time of the year, but was very picturesque and was surely solidly booked during the summer months. (I seem to remember that it was called Clear Lake-very appropriate!)
The McKenzie at its source was not a big river, but was fast flowing as it tumbled down the rocks through its gorge. There were three waterfalls with parking and access from the road that were 60 or so ft high along the route. We stopped at each and hiked the riverbank to take advantage of the views and the photo-ops. We passed campgrounds which while open, were mostly empty. Sometimes we saw a few RVs out in the woods--cold weather campers! We reached a junction and turned onto a small "scenic" drive which led us upward in elevation. We passed a gate with a sign which said "closed due to snow". It was still open, so on we went!! Our guidebook indicated there were two waterfalls of interest coming up which required a loop hike of about 1 1/2 miles. When we got to the falls parking area there was another couple looking at the map information board. We took off on the trail. They must of decided the hike was not for them since we didn't see them again. Lazy, I guess. I wondered how much they must miss on their trips? We hiked over 2 big lava flows. The forest was very quiet! We didn't even see or hear any birds on our hike! I told Nancy that there were no birds because of the bears!! Then I made growls as I followed a ways behind her! Juvenile behavior! The falls were not the result of rivers, but from springs high on the bluffs, and fell over 100 ft to the valley floor. By this time on our trip we had seen alot of water cascading down from great heights! We were tough to impress! But it was a nice hike!
Back in the car, we continued to climb in elevation, and soon there was about 4-6" inches of snow along the road. We could see where the plows had furrowed the snow off to the side a day before. As we wound up to a higher elevation we popped out of the forest into a lunarlike sea of lava flows covering miles in all directions. It was a black and white landscape with the basalt rock partially covered with snow, leading up to the surrounding fully snow blanketed peaks of the Cascade range. McKenzie pass was at the peak of the road and was over 7000ft high! The road was cut through lava fields and in the center of it all at the highest elevation was a tourist stop with an observation tower called the "Observatory". It was built of lava rock by the CCC back in the 1930s. Stairs of lava rock led up to the top where a large compass disk of metal about 3-4 ft wide was embedded in rock in the center. It was engraved to show the names of the various peaks in each compass direction from Mt Bachelor to the south, to Mt Hood to the north, and all the Seven Sisters peaks between. Under the observation deck was a large room with small window slots, each marked with the name of the peak that one could view by looking through the slot. It was like a fort turret with gun slots aimed at the various mountains. The views certainly emphasized the volcanic nature of the cascade range!!
Leaving the observatory, we wound down the mountain, and soon were out of the snow and into the forested area leading back towards Sisters. It was late in the afternoon, and time to head back to the 2$chuck (Charles Shaw wine, ($1.99) courtesy of Trader Joe's) and afternoon snacks at the Lara B&B to tell everyone about our very successful tourist day. When we got back, I hooked up the laptop, checked my email, and downloaded my pictures from the digital camera. Bobye took a look at some of them and said that it looked like we had a great day. (Probably really just another day in Bend to a long time resident!)
That night we decided to have a casual dinner and headed for the Dechutes Brewery, which was a hot spot downtown with the younger crowd, specializing in beer and ale of course, along with pub type food offerings. It was a busy, noisy place, with sports TV, and young waiters and waitresses toting trays of brews. Both of us ordered a sandwich basket which included fries, along with one of the Dechute Brewery's best ales, and enjoyed the scene!!
It was another crisp night for the walk back to the Lara. It was still early enough to sit and watch a bit of TV in the downstairs sunroom before heading up the stairs about 10 to cozy under the comforter for the night.
Our plan for the next day was for each of us to go our own way for most of the day, and have a "personal" day, just for ourselves!
Friday, December 03, 2004
The Oregon Trail--Part XI--To Bend
Monday
October 18
It was dark when I got up. Nancy was still sleeping when I slipped out of the room and headed out for a paper, and early breakfast at Bette's Cafe. There was only one other customer there when I arrived about 6:15 and I was able to chat with the waitress a bit regarding the menu! I felt like an Omelet with toast and hash browns--I was hungry, even after the pizza from the night before! It started to lighten up outside, and about the time I was done eating, and through most of the paper, Nancy turned up with her caffiene from the Dog River coffee house across the street and ordered a home made muffin to soak up some of the caffiene to make the dose last longer in her system.
We had alot of touring to do today, starting with whatever was at The Dalles, and then turning south along the eastern side of the cascades with Bend as our destination. One of the reasons we decided to come to Oregon was to check out Bend as a possible retirement destination, so there was some anticipation in the day. Plus we planned on staying in one place for 3 days--instead of riding in one afternoon and the next day moving on!
So we settled up at the hotel, saddled up, and kicked up some dust on I-84 east.
The Dalles was a wierd name for a town, and I forget just exactly where the name came from, but it sounds French for something. As I remember, it was a primary stop for many on their way to Oregon, and the last stop before people headed up to take on the Cascades with their wagons. There was a Fort Dalles built there to provide protection for the many settlers on the trail. It was at the "mouth" of the gorge, and was the main "commercial" river gateway from the Notheastern and middle part of the Oregon territory. It wasn't far from Hood River and I-84 got us there within 30 minutes. As we approached the town we saw a sign which directed us to something called the Columbia Gorge Discovery Center and County Museum. Wow! Any tourist worth his salt couldn't miss that!!! So we took the offramp! It was a very good discovery, and was similar to all the great National Park Visitor's Centers we had visited on our trip; except it was a locally funded and staffed facility. There were interesting exhibits about early Oregon, commerce on the Columbia, and alot about local history. There was also a nice gift shop, so we bought Matt a couple of postcards.
There were a lot of "guys with guts" dressed in work clothes, boots, jeans, cowboy hats, and Catapiller and Deere Caps hanging around in the wide foyer. I had to ask about them and found out that the county maintenance dept was having an early morning meeting there in one of the rooms. I guess that also explained all the pickups out in the parking lot.
We drove through The Dalles without a stop and headed south on a small two lane road going in the direction of Bend. We were east of the Cascades and hoped that we would get some great views of Mount Hood, but the skies were so overcast that the mountains to the west of us were completely shrouded. The country east of the Cascades was a stark contrast to the trees and heavier vegetation to the west. The annual rainfall drops considerably and the terrain is mostly a rolling plain with no trees.(Bend gets about 12" annually, and as one goes east it drops off from that amount) There was occassional evidence of a ranch off in the distance, but it was pretty much open range. I have a feeling that some of the land was also Indian reservation.
We drove for an hour and I was looking at the gas gauge hoping that we would get to the next town soon. According to the map the town was a place called Maupin, and was on the Dechutes river, the same river that runs through Bend. As we approached town there was a run down gas station with a couple of pumps, and I thought I would drive further to see if there was a Chevron or something else more appealing. Two blocks later we were out of town! So I turned around and headed back to the only gas in town! The attendant reminded me of Jr. Samples, that stout hillbilly on Hee Haw from years ago, who was friendly and always had something to say. He pumped my gas for me and looked grateful that I had a gas guzzler with a 22 gal tank! We chatted a bit, and he gave me a copy of the local news, and told me a bit about the town. I told him that I had grown up in a town with a population of 600, and that Maupin reminded me of that. There was a small school, which I am sure served a wide area of the surrounding countryside, and a block and a half of stores on Main street. I took some pictures. He told me that fishing was pretty good for steelhead, and that was pretty much what kept Maupin alive--fishermen coming to fish the river. He also said that if we wanted to take a small detour 20 miles east, there was a ghost town we could visit. That sounded pretty interesting, so we took the turn where he directed us and headed east on a two lane tarred road across the lonely plain. I don't think we saw another car on the road, and it seemed to me to be further than I had expected. I was getting nervous! What if we were heading off our route into the vastness of nothingness. I actually stopped at an intersection with another rural road to check the map. It looked like we would hit Rte 97 if we kept heading east, and that would take us to Bend, so on we went, ghost town or not!! Another 10 minutes and we were at Rte 97, and at the ghost town as well!
Actually, it was a pretty interesting place. It was a cold and windy day, and it was obvious that only the ghosts were around this time of the year. Everything was closed, but there was a post office in one of the buildings that was open, and Nancy mailed Matt the post cards we had picked up earlier. We walked around with the ghosts a bit. There was a big old barn filled with rusty old cars and pickups, and some of the old buildings were open just to walk through--which we did. There was a guy in a big RV looking in the window of the "Hotel" who told Nancy that he had been camping in his RV and was looking for someone the last couple of days so he could pay his bill. He said he was giving up and leaving.
The place probably got alot of tourist action off Rte 67 in the summer months, but really was a "ghost town" during the off season!
We headed south! There wasn't much to look at . The mountains were still under cloud cover, so we never did see Mt. Hood. As we approached Redmond we again saw evidence of civilization and traffic. Redmond is about 20 miles north of Bend, has a small airport and some commercial activity, but little charm, and no quilt shop of note, and so we just drove through.
Just outside of Bend I saw a sign noting the upcoming Crooked River Gorge Scenic overlook. Oh boy!! We had to stop there. Rte 97 has a newer bridge over the gorge! The old bridge still stands off to the side and can be used by pedestrians. As we drove over the bridge, I looked down, and down , and down. We pulled into the parking lot and parked near the only other car visible. It was a big parking lot, and was probably a big tourist draw in the Summer! (But even the rest rooms were closed at this time of the year.)
We walked over to the rail at the edge of the gorge and noted a sign that said, "Danger", and to control your dogs and small children. Nancy would not get close enough to look over the precipice, although I did get her to stand by the sign for a picture. The gorge was a slash in the earth over 300 ft deep created over the eons by the Crooked River, which ran its crooked way far below.
I walked out a ways on the old bridge just to get some got pictures. Nancy stayed on shore!!
Our next stop was Bend, and the first goal we set for ourselves was to find a place to stay close to the old downtown area. We drove around the main streets downtown and parked to walk around and seek out the local chamber of commerce for some ideas. We found it and picked up some brochures from some of the local establishments. Back in the car, we decided that we should try the two best looking B&Bs. The first we called was fully booked. The Lara, supposedly the best in town, had an opening for $125 per night, and while more than I wanted to spend, I could see the delight on Nancy's face when I said go for it!! It ended up to be a great decision.
The Lara B&B was in an old house which had been built by a rich early mover and shaker in Bend whose name happen to be Lara. It was in a prime location on a corner just across from the Dechutes River and Drake Park, which ran along the river in Old Bend. Nancy was thrilled with our room and the old house. Not only that, we had arrived just in time to partake of the late afternoon wine and snacks our host, Bobye, had put out for the guests. The wine was my favorite--2$ chuck!! Bobye and family make a trip south to California every year and she said she had picked up 15 cases Trader Joe's ($1.99/bottle)!! There were 5 rooms at the Inn and all but one was filled, and everyone was sipping the 2$chuck and having shrimp, cheese and crackers and getting aquainted! One older couple was from San Diego as well, and were checking out retirement real estate. When the wine was gone, most of us decided to eat together--and we walked to an Italian resturant, had pasta, and of course, some more wine!! The waiter was very pleased to see us. We were the only party for about an hour, and kept him busy working for a generous tip!
Another walk in the crisp evening air, and we all headed back to the Lara and a warm bed.
The next day's plan was to head for Sisters, a small town 18 miles east and the site of one of the best all time quilt stores, and do some touring of the area. It was nice to think that we were going to be in one place for 3 nights.
October 18
It was dark when I got up. Nancy was still sleeping when I slipped out of the room and headed out for a paper, and early breakfast at Bette's Cafe. There was only one other customer there when I arrived about 6:15 and I was able to chat with the waitress a bit regarding the menu! I felt like an Omelet with toast and hash browns--I was hungry, even after the pizza from the night before! It started to lighten up outside, and about the time I was done eating, and through most of the paper, Nancy turned up with her caffiene from the Dog River coffee house across the street and ordered a home made muffin to soak up some of the caffiene to make the dose last longer in her system.
We had alot of touring to do today, starting with whatever was at The Dalles, and then turning south along the eastern side of the cascades with Bend as our destination. One of the reasons we decided to come to Oregon was to check out Bend as a possible retirement destination, so there was some anticipation in the day. Plus we planned on staying in one place for 3 days--instead of riding in one afternoon and the next day moving on!
So we settled up at the hotel, saddled up, and kicked up some dust on I-84 east.
The Dalles was a wierd name for a town, and I forget just exactly where the name came from, but it sounds French for something. As I remember, it was a primary stop for many on their way to Oregon, and the last stop before people headed up to take on the Cascades with their wagons. There was a Fort Dalles built there to provide protection for the many settlers on the trail. It was at the "mouth" of the gorge, and was the main "commercial" river gateway from the Notheastern and middle part of the Oregon territory. It wasn't far from Hood River and I-84 got us there within 30 minutes. As we approached the town we saw a sign which directed us to something called the Columbia Gorge Discovery Center and County Museum. Wow! Any tourist worth his salt couldn't miss that!!! So we took the offramp! It was a very good discovery, and was similar to all the great National Park Visitor's Centers we had visited on our trip; except it was a locally funded and staffed facility. There were interesting exhibits about early Oregon, commerce on the Columbia, and alot about local history. There was also a nice gift shop, so we bought Matt a couple of postcards.
There were a lot of "guys with guts" dressed in work clothes, boots, jeans, cowboy hats, and Catapiller and Deere Caps hanging around in the wide foyer. I had to ask about them and found out that the county maintenance dept was having an early morning meeting there in one of the rooms. I guess that also explained all the pickups out in the parking lot.
We drove through The Dalles without a stop and headed south on a small two lane road going in the direction of Bend. We were east of the Cascades and hoped that we would get some great views of Mount Hood, but the skies were so overcast that the mountains to the west of us were completely shrouded. The country east of the Cascades was a stark contrast to the trees and heavier vegetation to the west. The annual rainfall drops considerably and the terrain is mostly a rolling plain with no trees.(Bend gets about 12" annually, and as one goes east it drops off from that amount) There was occassional evidence of a ranch off in the distance, but it was pretty much open range. I have a feeling that some of the land was also Indian reservation.
We drove for an hour and I was looking at the gas gauge hoping that we would get to the next town soon. According to the map the town was a place called Maupin, and was on the Dechutes river, the same river that runs through Bend. As we approached town there was a run down gas station with a couple of pumps, and I thought I would drive further to see if there was a Chevron or something else more appealing. Two blocks later we were out of town! So I turned around and headed back to the only gas in town! The attendant reminded me of Jr. Samples, that stout hillbilly on Hee Haw from years ago, who was friendly and always had something to say. He pumped my gas for me and looked grateful that I had a gas guzzler with a 22 gal tank! We chatted a bit, and he gave me a copy of the local news, and told me a bit about the town. I told him that I had grown up in a town with a population of 600, and that Maupin reminded me of that. There was a small school, which I am sure served a wide area of the surrounding countryside, and a block and a half of stores on Main street. I took some pictures. He told me that fishing was pretty good for steelhead, and that was pretty much what kept Maupin alive--fishermen coming to fish the river. He also said that if we wanted to take a small detour 20 miles east, there was a ghost town we could visit. That sounded pretty interesting, so we took the turn where he directed us and headed east on a two lane tarred road across the lonely plain. I don't think we saw another car on the road, and it seemed to me to be further than I had expected. I was getting nervous! What if we were heading off our route into the vastness of nothingness. I actually stopped at an intersection with another rural road to check the map. It looked like we would hit Rte 97 if we kept heading east, and that would take us to Bend, so on we went, ghost town or not!! Another 10 minutes and we were at Rte 97, and at the ghost town as well!
Actually, it was a pretty interesting place. It was a cold and windy day, and it was obvious that only the ghosts were around this time of the year. Everything was closed, but there was a post office in one of the buildings that was open, and Nancy mailed Matt the post cards we had picked up earlier. We walked around with the ghosts a bit. There was a big old barn filled with rusty old cars and pickups, and some of the old buildings were open just to walk through--which we did. There was a guy in a big RV looking in the window of the "Hotel" who told Nancy that he had been camping in his RV and was looking for someone the last couple of days so he could pay his bill. He said he was giving up and leaving.
The place probably got alot of tourist action off Rte 67 in the summer months, but really was a "ghost town" during the off season!
We headed south! There wasn't much to look at . The mountains were still under cloud cover, so we never did see Mt. Hood. As we approached Redmond we again saw evidence of civilization and traffic. Redmond is about 20 miles north of Bend, has a small airport and some commercial activity, but little charm, and no quilt shop of note, and so we just drove through.
Just outside of Bend I saw a sign noting the upcoming Crooked River Gorge Scenic overlook. Oh boy!! We had to stop there. Rte 97 has a newer bridge over the gorge! The old bridge still stands off to the side and can be used by pedestrians. As we drove over the bridge, I looked down, and down , and down. We pulled into the parking lot and parked near the only other car visible. It was a big parking lot, and was probably a big tourist draw in the Summer! (But even the rest rooms were closed at this time of the year.)
We walked over to the rail at the edge of the gorge and noted a sign that said, "Danger", and to control your dogs and small children. Nancy would not get close enough to look over the precipice, although I did get her to stand by the sign for a picture. The gorge was a slash in the earth over 300 ft deep created over the eons by the Crooked River, which ran its crooked way far below.
I walked out a ways on the old bridge just to get some got pictures. Nancy stayed on shore!!
Our next stop was Bend, and the first goal we set for ourselves was to find a place to stay close to the old downtown area. We drove around the main streets downtown and parked to walk around and seek out the local chamber of commerce for some ideas. We found it and picked up some brochures from some of the local establishments. Back in the car, we decided that we should try the two best looking B&Bs. The first we called was fully booked. The Lara, supposedly the best in town, had an opening for $125 per night, and while more than I wanted to spend, I could see the delight on Nancy's face when I said go for it!! It ended up to be a great decision.
The Lara B&B was in an old house which had been built by a rich early mover and shaker in Bend whose name happen to be Lara. It was in a prime location on a corner just across from the Dechutes River and Drake Park, which ran along the river in Old Bend. Nancy was thrilled with our room and the old house. Not only that, we had arrived just in time to partake of the late afternoon wine and snacks our host, Bobye, had put out for the guests. The wine was my favorite--2$ chuck!! Bobye and family make a trip south to California every year and she said she had picked up 15 cases Trader Joe's ($1.99/bottle)!! There were 5 rooms at the Inn and all but one was filled, and everyone was sipping the 2$chuck and having shrimp, cheese and crackers and getting aquainted! One older couple was from San Diego as well, and were checking out retirement real estate. When the wine was gone, most of us decided to eat together--and we walked to an Italian resturant, had pasta, and of course, some more wine!! The waiter was very pleased to see us. We were the only party for about an hour, and kept him busy working for a generous tip!
Another walk in the crisp evening air, and we all headed back to the Lara and a warm bed.
The next day's plan was to head for Sisters, a small town 18 miles east and the site of one of the best all time quilt stores, and do some touring of the area. It was nice to think that we were going to be in one place for 3 nights.
The Oregon Trail--Part X--The Columbia Gorge
Sunday
October 17
We were the early risers at the Grandview B&B, and were the only ones being served at the 7 am breakfast sitting. There was a small breakfast "nook" framed by a bay of windows in the old Victorian kitchen with room for only one table, and our "cook" had it arranged just for us. Nancy whispered to me that she had hoped we would be able to sit there, rather than in the dining room! Our breakfast host was a long time local, who since we were her only customers that early in the morning, not only provided great service, but also had the time to chat about Old Astoria, and give us some of the history of the town while she was making our breakfast at the stove.
The breakfast was good, as was the conversation, and I left her a nice tip as we left the kitchen to head back to the room to pack our bags and head east along the river to Portland. By the time we were dragging our bags down the stairs, the 8 am crowd filled the dining room, and on the way out I took the time to snap a couple pictures of our breakfast hosts and the festivities!
While the coffee had been adequate for me, Nancy still was craving her double cappachino and told me to be on the lookout for a suitable coffee house. Alas, Astoria seemed to be the one place in our journey where we failed to find the "best" coffeehouse before we were out of town. As we drove along the divided highway I continued to search for an espresso sign to no avail, and after an hour's drive it looked like Portland might be a necessary stop, if for nothing else, to quell the caffiene craving Nancy would have by the time we got there!
It is interesting that "Port"land, is actually a port! The Columbia river is so large that some ocean going vessels seem to still make their way up and down the river with cargo. Some of the small cities on either side of the river still exist because of the mills and other businesses that have the ability to directly load up ships with their output and send it off to ports in other parts of the world. As we drove on the Oregon side, it appeared that there was more commerce on the Washington state side of the river, but maybe that was because Portland sucked it up on the Oregon side.
As we neared Portland, the road improved, and the countryside became less rural and more cluttered. After living in the sprawl of Southern California, Portland appeared as a fairly small city. It seemed to me that we could have zoomed by it on the freeway in about 5 minutes. My first impression of Portland was of railroad yards. The freeway headed right into the downtown area, so Nancy looked at the map in her guidebook and picked a likely exit which would take us into the heart of the downtown area. We had decided that we ought to at least stop and take the pulse of Portland, even though it was a Sunday morning. Plus there was the matter of the double cappachino which had not yet been resolved!
Our target was Union Square. We drove around the center of the city and finally found a centrally located parking ramp near the square. Since Portland is Oregon's largest city, it is also the most cosmopolitan, and that was reflected in all the upscales shops and department stores in the main shopping district. Suprisingly, there was alot of activity for Sunday morning with some of the stores all ready open for shopping and people downtown pushing strollers filled with kids, and walking around with Starbucks coffee cups. There was a big Starbucks right on Union Square. Nancy will only do Starbucks in an emergency, preferring the smaller independant caffiene perveyors. Luckily the Portland Coffee House was just down a block and looked like just the place. I bought a Sunday paper at a stand outside and in we went! They had very comfortable seating arrangements in a living room setting--the double cappachino was adequate, so all was well! And that was it for Portland!
We headed east on I-84 along the river towards the National Scenic River Route along the Gorge, and about 15-20 miles out of Portland took the exit which put us on the scenic road which was built back in the early 20th century. We wound up the bluffs to near the top of the gorge and stopped at the Crown Point Vista House. It was a small stone visitor center and observation area built about the time the road was completed. Because it was the off season, the structure was closed and undergoing some refurbishment. But the views of the river far below, both to the east and the west, were spectacular, even though the day was grey and misty and visability was limited to maybe 5-10 miles. There was a small "trailer" that subsituted as a visitor center that was open and manned by some docent volunteers. It was a bit cold in the wind, so we walked in and looked at some of the handouts, and got warmed a bit before we got back in the car and started back down the winding road.
The primary scenic stop along the route is Multnoma Falls, a beautiful 300 ft falls, which is on land which was given to the government by a Portland Lumber baron back in the late 19th century. In fact, when the railroad along the river was finished, the falls was a favorite tourist stop on the railroad before a road was even built through the gorge. A large visitor's center and lodge was built which still is in service today. There are 5 -6 very scenic falls that are accessable from the scenic road today, but it was Multnoma that really put the Gorge on the map as a scenic destination. I took lots of pictures of Nancy standing in front of all the various water falls we encountered. She may not be recognizable because of the rain gear and hood pulled up tight to ward off the wonderful Oregon weather. But if the Rain gear is blue, it's her!
We got back on I-84 and headed east again at freeway speed (70+) Our stop for the night was to be Hood River, Oregon which wasn't far at 70+! Nancy checked her guidebook and we decided that we would stop at the Hood River Hotel and check it out. We made a pit stop at a shopping center on the outskirts of Hood River, bought a cheap bottle of wine and some bottled water, and 30 minutes later were standing at the check-in desk at the hotel. The hotel was originally built in 1902, and was on the national register of historic buildings. It had been refurbished, but had an elevator that must have been from the 1930's, with a sliding barred gate and everything. It would have been a good candidate for a movie set!! Our room was okay with a window we could open, a TV that worked, and a queen sized bed. So I was happy, and I uncorked the wine and poured a goodly amount in both of the plastic glasses from the small 1902 remodeled bathroom.
After a steady diet of expensive "tourist" dinners, we decided that we would go "hometown" for dinner, and find pizza!! And, just around the corner there was a big pizza place with a games arcade and lots of kids running around like wild indians. We ordered a large half Nancy's veggie, and half my sausage, a couple of soft drinks, and picked a table where we could watch the big TV! The game machines in the Arcade were going "ding-ding" and "beep-beep, the TV was on some sporting event, and some of the kids running around I found were in fact local Indians!
Very Homey!! The pizza was pretty good!! We later found that perhaps the best pizza in town was across the street from the hotel, instead of around the corner. But it was OK and I got change back from a $20 bill instead of having to leave it just as a tip!!
We wandered the streets a bit and checked out all the coffee houses in the four block downtown area. Nancy decided that the Dog River Coffee house looked like the best bet for her morning caffiene stop. Right accross the street was Bette's cafe which looked like a pretty good breakfast pick for me if I got up early. So we were set with a plan for the morning.
Hood River is best known as a recreational spot along the Columbia. For some reason, the winds and the river combine to make it a great sailboarding location. It was a bit weird to see about 3-4 surfshops in town specializing in wind surfing gear and boards. And there we were 100 miles inland!
We put in a bit of TV time, but as usual I fell asleep early while Nancy was still watching something soapy! Our next day we would be past the Cascade range and heading south towards Bend, where we planned to sit for three nights!
October 17
We were the early risers at the Grandview B&B, and were the only ones being served at the 7 am breakfast sitting. There was a small breakfast "nook" framed by a bay of windows in the old Victorian kitchen with room for only one table, and our "cook" had it arranged just for us. Nancy whispered to me that she had hoped we would be able to sit there, rather than in the dining room! Our breakfast host was a long time local, who since we were her only customers that early in the morning, not only provided great service, but also had the time to chat about Old Astoria, and give us some of the history of the town while she was making our breakfast at the stove.
The breakfast was good, as was the conversation, and I left her a nice tip as we left the kitchen to head back to the room to pack our bags and head east along the river to Portland. By the time we were dragging our bags down the stairs, the 8 am crowd filled the dining room, and on the way out I took the time to snap a couple pictures of our breakfast hosts and the festivities!
While the coffee had been adequate for me, Nancy still was craving her double cappachino and told me to be on the lookout for a suitable coffee house. Alas, Astoria seemed to be the one place in our journey where we failed to find the "best" coffeehouse before we were out of town. As we drove along the divided highway I continued to search for an espresso sign to no avail, and after an hour's drive it looked like Portland might be a necessary stop, if for nothing else, to quell the caffiene craving Nancy would have by the time we got there!
It is interesting that "Port"land, is actually a port! The Columbia river is so large that some ocean going vessels seem to still make their way up and down the river with cargo. Some of the small cities on either side of the river still exist because of the mills and other businesses that have the ability to directly load up ships with their output and send it off to ports in other parts of the world. As we drove on the Oregon side, it appeared that there was more commerce on the Washington state side of the river, but maybe that was because Portland sucked it up on the Oregon side.
As we neared Portland, the road improved, and the countryside became less rural and more cluttered. After living in the sprawl of Southern California, Portland appeared as a fairly small city. It seemed to me that we could have zoomed by it on the freeway in about 5 minutes. My first impression of Portland was of railroad yards. The freeway headed right into the downtown area, so Nancy looked at the map in her guidebook and picked a likely exit which would take us into the heart of the downtown area. We had decided that we ought to at least stop and take the pulse of Portland, even though it was a Sunday morning. Plus there was the matter of the double cappachino which had not yet been resolved!
Our target was Union Square. We drove around the center of the city and finally found a centrally located parking ramp near the square. Since Portland is Oregon's largest city, it is also the most cosmopolitan, and that was reflected in all the upscales shops and department stores in the main shopping district. Suprisingly, there was alot of activity for Sunday morning with some of the stores all ready open for shopping and people downtown pushing strollers filled with kids, and walking around with Starbucks coffee cups. There was a big Starbucks right on Union Square. Nancy will only do Starbucks in an emergency, preferring the smaller independant caffiene perveyors. Luckily the Portland Coffee House was just down a block and looked like just the place. I bought a Sunday paper at a stand outside and in we went! They had very comfortable seating arrangements in a living room setting--the double cappachino was adequate, so all was well! And that was it for Portland!
We headed east on I-84 along the river towards the National Scenic River Route along the Gorge, and about 15-20 miles out of Portland took the exit which put us on the scenic road which was built back in the early 20th century. We wound up the bluffs to near the top of the gorge and stopped at the Crown Point Vista House. It was a small stone visitor center and observation area built about the time the road was completed. Because it was the off season, the structure was closed and undergoing some refurbishment. But the views of the river far below, both to the east and the west, were spectacular, even though the day was grey and misty and visability was limited to maybe 5-10 miles. There was a small "trailer" that subsituted as a visitor center that was open and manned by some docent volunteers. It was a bit cold in the wind, so we walked in and looked at some of the handouts, and got warmed a bit before we got back in the car and started back down the winding road.
The primary scenic stop along the route is Multnoma Falls, a beautiful 300 ft falls, which is on land which was given to the government by a Portland Lumber baron back in the late 19th century. In fact, when the railroad along the river was finished, the falls was a favorite tourist stop on the railroad before a road was even built through the gorge. A large visitor's center and lodge was built which still is in service today. There are 5 -6 very scenic falls that are accessable from the scenic road today, but it was Multnoma that really put the Gorge on the map as a scenic destination. I took lots of pictures of Nancy standing in front of all the various water falls we encountered. She may not be recognizable because of the rain gear and hood pulled up tight to ward off the wonderful Oregon weather. But if the Rain gear is blue, it's her!
We got back on I-84 and headed east again at freeway speed (70+) Our stop for the night was to be Hood River, Oregon which wasn't far at 70+! Nancy checked her guidebook and we decided that we would stop at the Hood River Hotel and check it out. We made a pit stop at a shopping center on the outskirts of Hood River, bought a cheap bottle of wine and some bottled water, and 30 minutes later were standing at the check-in desk at the hotel. The hotel was originally built in 1902, and was on the national register of historic buildings. It had been refurbished, but had an elevator that must have been from the 1930's, with a sliding barred gate and everything. It would have been a good candidate for a movie set!! Our room was okay with a window we could open, a TV that worked, and a queen sized bed. So I was happy, and I uncorked the wine and poured a goodly amount in both of the plastic glasses from the small 1902 remodeled bathroom.
After a steady diet of expensive "tourist" dinners, we decided that we would go "hometown" for dinner, and find pizza!! And, just around the corner there was a big pizza place with a games arcade and lots of kids running around like wild indians. We ordered a large half Nancy's veggie, and half my sausage, a couple of soft drinks, and picked a table where we could watch the big TV! The game machines in the Arcade were going "ding-ding" and "beep-beep, the TV was on some sporting event, and some of the kids running around I found were in fact local Indians!
Very Homey!! The pizza was pretty good!! We later found that perhaps the best pizza in town was across the street from the hotel, instead of around the corner. But it was OK and I got change back from a $20 bill instead of having to leave it just as a tip!!
We wandered the streets a bit and checked out all the coffee houses in the four block downtown area. Nancy decided that the Dog River Coffee house looked like the best bet for her morning caffiene stop. Right accross the street was Bette's cafe which looked like a pretty good breakfast pick for me if I got up early. So we were set with a plan for the morning.
Hood River is best known as a recreational spot along the Columbia. For some reason, the winds and the river combine to make it a great sailboarding location. It was a bit weird to see about 3-4 surfshops in town specializing in wind surfing gear and boards. And there we were 100 miles inland!
We put in a bit of TV time, but as usual I fell asleep early while Nancy was still watching something soapy! Our next day we would be past the Cascade range and heading south towards Bend, where we planned to sit for three nights!
Tuesday, November 23, 2004
The Oregon Trail--Part IX--Lewis and Clark
Saturday
October 16
It was about 6:30am and I was at the Panini, a coffee shop and bakery just a block from the Nye Beach Inn, and was well into a large cuppa joe and a fresh scone while perusing the Oregonian newspaper. There were only about four or five small tables, and locals kept coming in and grabbing a cup of caffiene, chatting a bit with the gal at the counter, and then were off to their day's activity properly drugged and raring to go. I overheard "April's" mentioned and from the conversation realized that the gal on the cappachino machine had been serving meals the night before into the wee hours of the evening at the restaurant where we had dined. She seemed to be doing well, but I surmised that by mid morning she would probably be burning up caffiene at a fairly high rate.
Nancy soon turned up with her journal and ordered her normal double cappachino. We decided that we would do a bit of touring and visit the old waterfront area which was the other interesting part of town, which, in fact probably got most of the summer tourist traffic. Believe it or not, there was an elaborate Ripley's Believe It or Not Museum in the waterfront area which had to be a big draw with the summer crowd. Since it was the off season, and fairly early in the morning, it wasn't open. The building it was in was painted in an off-pink color which seemed garish, and out of place in the middle of an old harbor front filled with fishing boats, sea lions, and seafood restaurants. Some of the old buildings had large murals of dolphins or killer whales painted in large scale on their facades. And, of course, the original Moe's Seafood restaurant was right in the middle of it all. (There is a chain of them along the coast).
There wasn't much activity on the street since it was still before 10 am, but we walked out on a pier to confer with the sea lions below who were very vocal vieing for a good position to catch anything we might toss over the edge. They must have been in a hangover from all the stuff the summer crowd had thrown their way. The poor things would probably have to swim out somewhere into the bay to actually catch some fish on their own to get through the winter months.
There were a couple old fishermen on the pier, and as usual, I walked over to check out what was going on. One of them had an empty bucket, and the other had 3 dungeness crabs in the bottom of his. It was the crab season and I knew that crabbers were out in boats in the bays, but I was surprised to see them being netted right "downtown".
After walking both sides of the street, wondering what was in Ripley's, and checking out the catch at the fish market, we waved goodby to the sea lions, and headed north again on 101.
Today was going to be our longest drive leg up the coast, estimated to be about 5 hours. Just north of Newport was the Heteca Lighthouse, which was a National Historic site managed by the National Park Service. There was beautiful visitor's center and a $5 admission fee. We had to stop and check it out since I was a lighthouse nut. We stopped at the visitor's center and looked at the exhibits, and then headed out to the lighthouse which was located about a 1/4 mile out on a point. It was a cloudy windy day, threatening rain. At the lighthouse there was a tour guide standing outside by a sign indicating that the next tour was in about 10 minutes. Oh boy!! I love guided tours! We walked around the lighthouse and out to an observation deck overlooking the whitecapped ocean below. and then wandered back for the tour. There were about 10-12 other hardy tourists we joined "in line". As we were standing there, I mentioned to the tour guide that it must be a typical "balmy" day along the Oregon coast. He said the only thing missing was a bit of rain, but said that it should start spitting shortly.
He finally led us into the first floor of the lighthouse and started the tour with an introductory "lecture". He said that it was built in 1835, and the original lamp was lit by burning pig fat, which was heated on a stove in a room on the bottom floor and carried in buckets by the keepers and their families up the circular staircase of the 94 ft tall lighthouse 24 hours a day to keep the light always burning. In the late 1800's fuel oil was a big step forward, and then in the 1930's electricity really simplified the maintenance of the light. The lens of the light was built in France and is the original lens. As with most old lighthouses, the guide told a story of a drunken keeper who fell and died and still is seen within the stairwell from time to time! Nancy got a bit claustraphobic going up the stairs and suffered a bit of vertigo going down. I made a donation of $1 and got her a button indicating that she had, however, reached the summit sucessfully. We all got to climb the small steps to the light and stick our head up to see it actually click on and off.
As we exited we walked into some good old Oregon rain, and had to make a run for the parking lot!
We headed north on 101, which stayed two lane and became more rural and as it went inland off the coast. We started seeing more agriculture, especially dairy cows along with the smell that went with them, which was an indication that we were nearing Tillamook, a small city with a large presence in the cheese industry. Tillamook cheese is a major brand marketed nationally, and the cheese "factory" is a major tourist attraction drawing a zillion tourists annually. Even on this off season rainy day the big parking lot was full of cars, and there were hundreds of people touring the cheese making plant, buying cheeses in the huge store, and standing in line for some of the ice cream concoctions at the big ice cream counter. We were going to get an ice cream, but after looking at the length of the line, just shook out heads and went back to the parking lot. It was worth a visit--you know how I like tourist traps. I couldn't imagine what it must have been like in the middle of July! One thing I did learn, was that the Tillamook "factory" is a farmer's cooperative, which presumes that it is owned by the member dairy farmers who supply the endless stream of raw milk which is needed to produce the tons of ice cream and cheddar cheese flowing out the finished product end of the "assembly line".
They had very nice rest rooms!!
We were back on the road, and since it was getting late in the day, Nancy was checking her guidebook for some lodging options in Astoria. She settled on the Grandview B&B, which looked favorably priced and was within walking distance of the downtown area. We called on the cell phone and there was a room at the Inn which we reserved. With that done we could take our time, since I had one more tourist stop to make before we reached the Columbia River. Fort Clatsop was a National Park and had a replica of the winter quarters of the Lewis and Clarke expedition which once existed on the site. We couldn't miss that!! We pulled into the fort just after 4 pm. It was almost getting "dusky". As with most of the good National Park sites, our tax dollars seemed well spent on a very nice visitor's center, where Nancy bought a couple of post cards for Matt, and we looked at the exhibits of the Lewis and Clarke expedition tracing their long trek through the newly acquired "unknown lands to the west". It was still doing an Oregon drizzle so we walked under the umbrella for the 200 yards to the old log "fort" and through the rooms in the "barracks". It seemed to me to be a very small place for an expedition
to hole up for a winter. There was a docent, dressed for the part, giving a lecture on writing materials from that era to a small group in one of the rooms. We stopped for a few minutes in the flickering light and imagined Lewis writing in his daily log by candlelight. I guess it must have been cozy enough! Pacific Northwest winters are not so severe. And the Indians were friendly. What great tourists they were! An adventure to match any other!
As we left the park we saw a fairly large herd of Elk sharing a pasture with some dairy cows. There were two or three big bulls with large racks. I wondered if they ever got confused and became amorous with any of the Guernseys.
We got into Astoria about 5 pm, and drove around a bit looking for the Grandview. It was a big old Victorian up the hill overlooking the town and the Columbia River. We parked in front and went to check in. There was an elderly lady at a desk by the front door talking on the phone, presumably taking reservations. She looked the part of a victorian innkeeper, and soon had us on the way up the stairs with our bags. Our room was pretty frilly for a guy, but it was Ok and the bed was comfortable, so we were set! Everyone else was checking in at about the same time and it looked like a full house. We were glad we had called ahead and reserved a room!
Astoria is probably the oldest settlement in the Pacific Northwest, and perhaps west of the Mississippi. As I remember it was originally a fur trading post and then developed into a large port for lumber and other goods going up and down the river and off to other ports to all points of the compass. It was apparent by the size of some of the homes, that business had been very good at one time, and money had flowed through the port. We walked downtown to check out the restaurants, and see the sights. There were three big ocean going tankers anchored just offshore in the river, and I found later that they were hanging out until a backup of ships could be unloaded in Seattle to open up room for them to dock and deliver their cargo in that port facility. So now Astoria was just a holding tank!
Alot of the old Victorian homes had been renovated or were in the process of renovation, which was a good sign. It seems that tourism was a good part of the economy. Just like us, Hwy 101 fed people into Astoria as a starting point to drive through the scenic area of the Columbia Gorge, or to cross the old bridge to Washington State and on up the coast.
We had dinner in a pretty good touristy restaurant right on the riverbank. I wanted to get a table facing the river, but even at 6 pm, the restaurant was filled with a busload of elderly tourists on a river tour. I was a bit "ornery" about that, so ordered the biggest steak on the menu, which along with some wine, seemed to settle me down a bit. As the bus riders were leaving I asked where they were from, and found them all to be Wisconsinites--and since I knew that Wisconsin had won their football game that day, gave them a hearty "Go Badgers", which seemed to be received favorably!! Hey, when you are old, you need all the encouragement you can get!
After dinner, and since it was early, we stopped at a nice bar and grill, and ordered an after dinner drink. The baseball playoffs were on so we rooted for Boston for awhile and then headed back to the B&B in a slight Oregon drizzle. Our next day would be down the Gorge and would be a day filled with waterfalls.
I drifted off to sleep in our frilly bed to the sound of rain on the Victorian windows.
October 16
It was about 6:30am and I was at the Panini, a coffee shop and bakery just a block from the Nye Beach Inn, and was well into a large cuppa joe and a fresh scone while perusing the Oregonian newspaper. There were only about four or five small tables, and locals kept coming in and grabbing a cup of caffiene, chatting a bit with the gal at the counter, and then were off to their day's activity properly drugged and raring to go. I overheard "April's" mentioned and from the conversation realized that the gal on the cappachino machine had been serving meals the night before into the wee hours of the evening at the restaurant where we had dined. She seemed to be doing well, but I surmised that by mid morning she would probably be burning up caffiene at a fairly high rate.
Nancy soon turned up with her journal and ordered her normal double cappachino. We decided that we would do a bit of touring and visit the old waterfront area which was the other interesting part of town, which, in fact probably got most of the summer tourist traffic. Believe it or not, there was an elaborate Ripley's Believe It or Not Museum in the waterfront area which had to be a big draw with the summer crowd. Since it was the off season, and fairly early in the morning, it wasn't open. The building it was in was painted in an off-pink color which seemed garish, and out of place in the middle of an old harbor front filled with fishing boats, sea lions, and seafood restaurants. Some of the old buildings had large murals of dolphins or killer whales painted in large scale on their facades. And, of course, the original Moe's Seafood restaurant was right in the middle of it all. (There is a chain of them along the coast).
There wasn't much activity on the street since it was still before 10 am, but we walked out on a pier to confer with the sea lions below who were very vocal vieing for a good position to catch anything we might toss over the edge. They must have been in a hangover from all the stuff the summer crowd had thrown their way. The poor things would probably have to swim out somewhere into the bay to actually catch some fish on their own to get through the winter months.
There were a couple old fishermen on the pier, and as usual, I walked over to check out what was going on. One of them had an empty bucket, and the other had 3 dungeness crabs in the bottom of his. It was the crab season and I knew that crabbers were out in boats in the bays, but I was surprised to see them being netted right "downtown".
After walking both sides of the street, wondering what was in Ripley's, and checking out the catch at the fish market, we waved goodby to the sea lions, and headed north again on 101.
Today was going to be our longest drive leg up the coast, estimated to be about 5 hours. Just north of Newport was the Heteca Lighthouse, which was a National Historic site managed by the National Park Service. There was beautiful visitor's center and a $5 admission fee. We had to stop and check it out since I was a lighthouse nut. We stopped at the visitor's center and looked at the exhibits, and then headed out to the lighthouse which was located about a 1/4 mile out on a point. It was a cloudy windy day, threatening rain. At the lighthouse there was a tour guide standing outside by a sign indicating that the next tour was in about 10 minutes. Oh boy!! I love guided tours! We walked around the lighthouse and out to an observation deck overlooking the whitecapped ocean below. and then wandered back for the tour. There were about 10-12 other hardy tourists we joined "in line". As we were standing there, I mentioned to the tour guide that it must be a typical "balmy" day along the Oregon coast. He said the only thing missing was a bit of rain, but said that it should start spitting shortly.
He finally led us into the first floor of the lighthouse and started the tour with an introductory "lecture". He said that it was built in 1835, and the original lamp was lit by burning pig fat, which was heated on a stove in a room on the bottom floor and carried in buckets by the keepers and their families up the circular staircase of the 94 ft tall lighthouse 24 hours a day to keep the light always burning. In the late 1800's fuel oil was a big step forward, and then in the 1930's electricity really simplified the maintenance of the light. The lens of the light was built in France and is the original lens. As with most old lighthouses, the guide told a story of a drunken keeper who fell and died and still is seen within the stairwell from time to time! Nancy got a bit claustraphobic going up the stairs and suffered a bit of vertigo going down. I made a donation of $1 and got her a button indicating that she had, however, reached the summit sucessfully. We all got to climb the small steps to the light and stick our head up to see it actually click on and off.
As we exited we walked into some good old Oregon rain, and had to make a run for the parking lot!
We headed north on 101, which stayed two lane and became more rural and as it went inland off the coast. We started seeing more agriculture, especially dairy cows along with the smell that went with them, which was an indication that we were nearing Tillamook, a small city with a large presence in the cheese industry. Tillamook cheese is a major brand marketed nationally, and the cheese "factory" is a major tourist attraction drawing a zillion tourists annually. Even on this off season rainy day the big parking lot was full of cars, and there were hundreds of people touring the cheese making plant, buying cheeses in the huge store, and standing in line for some of the ice cream concoctions at the big ice cream counter. We were going to get an ice cream, but after looking at the length of the line, just shook out heads and went back to the parking lot. It was worth a visit--you know how I like tourist traps. I couldn't imagine what it must have been like in the middle of July! One thing I did learn, was that the Tillamook "factory" is a farmer's cooperative, which presumes that it is owned by the member dairy farmers who supply the endless stream of raw milk which is needed to produce the tons of ice cream and cheddar cheese flowing out the finished product end of the "assembly line".
They had very nice rest rooms!!
We were back on the road, and since it was getting late in the day, Nancy was checking her guidebook for some lodging options in Astoria. She settled on the Grandview B&B, which looked favorably priced and was within walking distance of the downtown area. We called on the cell phone and there was a room at the Inn which we reserved. With that done we could take our time, since I had one more tourist stop to make before we reached the Columbia River. Fort Clatsop was a National Park and had a replica of the winter quarters of the Lewis and Clarke expedition which once existed on the site. We couldn't miss that!! We pulled into the fort just after 4 pm. It was almost getting "dusky". As with most of the good National Park sites, our tax dollars seemed well spent on a very nice visitor's center, where Nancy bought a couple of post cards for Matt, and we looked at the exhibits of the Lewis and Clarke expedition tracing their long trek through the newly acquired "unknown lands to the west". It was still doing an Oregon drizzle so we walked under the umbrella for the 200 yards to the old log "fort" and through the rooms in the "barracks". It seemed to me to be a very small place for an expedition
to hole up for a winter. There was a docent, dressed for the part, giving a lecture on writing materials from that era to a small group in one of the rooms. We stopped for a few minutes in the flickering light and imagined Lewis writing in his daily log by candlelight. I guess it must have been cozy enough! Pacific Northwest winters are not so severe. And the Indians were friendly. What great tourists they were! An adventure to match any other!
As we left the park we saw a fairly large herd of Elk sharing a pasture with some dairy cows. There were two or three big bulls with large racks. I wondered if they ever got confused and became amorous with any of the Guernseys.
We got into Astoria about 5 pm, and drove around a bit looking for the Grandview. It was a big old Victorian up the hill overlooking the town and the Columbia River. We parked in front and went to check in. There was an elderly lady at a desk by the front door talking on the phone, presumably taking reservations. She looked the part of a victorian innkeeper, and soon had us on the way up the stairs with our bags. Our room was pretty frilly for a guy, but it was Ok and the bed was comfortable, so we were set! Everyone else was checking in at about the same time and it looked like a full house. We were glad we had called ahead and reserved a room!
Astoria is probably the oldest settlement in the Pacific Northwest, and perhaps west of the Mississippi. As I remember it was originally a fur trading post and then developed into a large port for lumber and other goods going up and down the river and off to other ports to all points of the compass. It was apparent by the size of some of the homes, that business had been very good at one time, and money had flowed through the port. We walked downtown to check out the restaurants, and see the sights. There were three big ocean going tankers anchored just offshore in the river, and I found later that they were hanging out until a backup of ships could be unloaded in Seattle to open up room for them to dock and deliver their cargo in that port facility. So now Astoria was just a holding tank!
Alot of the old Victorian homes had been renovated or were in the process of renovation, which was a good sign. It seems that tourism was a good part of the economy. Just like us, Hwy 101 fed people into Astoria as a starting point to drive through the scenic area of the Columbia Gorge, or to cross the old bridge to Washington State and on up the coast.
We had dinner in a pretty good touristy restaurant right on the riverbank. I wanted to get a table facing the river, but even at 6 pm, the restaurant was filled with a busload of elderly tourists on a river tour. I was a bit "ornery" about that, so ordered the biggest steak on the menu, which along with some wine, seemed to settle me down a bit. As the bus riders were leaving I asked where they were from, and found them all to be Wisconsinites--and since I knew that Wisconsin had won their football game that day, gave them a hearty "Go Badgers", which seemed to be received favorably!! Hey, when you are old, you need all the encouragement you can get!
After dinner, and since it was early, we stopped at a nice bar and grill, and ordered an after dinner drink. The baseball playoffs were on so we rooted for Boston for awhile and then headed back to the B&B in a slight Oregon drizzle. Our next day would be down the Gorge and would be a day filled with waterfalls.
I drifted off to sleep in our frilly bed to the sound of rain on the Victorian windows.
Friday, November 19, 2004
The Oregon Trail--Part VIII--Bandon
October 15
Friday
I got up at about 6 am. It was still dark when I quietly slipped out the door to look for a morning paper and head over to the coffee house. I walked a couple of blocks looking for a paper stand and found one near a resturant filled with locals obviously having an early breakfast before going off to work. If I had felt like an omelet or heavy breakfast it looked like the place to go. After walking a couple more blocks I was standing at the counter ordering a large coffee at the caffiene cafe. It was a small place with large bags filled with coffee beans stacked on the floor next to a big industrial sized coffee grinder. They must have ground a bag or two earlier in the morning before opening. A deep breath of the aroma was enough to prop my eyes open a bit wider.
There was a group of about 7 people sitting at a couple of tables they had pushed together in the middle of the room, and two or three other solitary drinkers were sipping on their brews at other small tables lining the wall. It was a bigger crowd than I expected at 6:15 in the morning. I found a spot near the larger group, and found myself a bit too near a spirited political conversation about taxes and investments in tax shelters. I thought that a bit strange from guys dressed in jeans and work shirts, but I guessed that they were some of the cranberry farming crowd and were probably loaded( with cranberry $$$, or maybe fermented juice?). Being rural they were probably Bush backers too, so I tried to remain as inconspicuious as possible and just kept my face in my paper. I was relieved when they broke up and left to go back to the bogs.
Nancy came just after 7 am and ordered her customary double cappachino, and we split some kind of breakfast muffin. She wrote secrets in her journal, and I did the crossword and we were ready to pack up and get out of town.
On the way out we decided to drive the "beach loop", just to see some of the rest of town, and so spent 20 minutes driving by some developments of very nice homes along the beach area on the west side of town. There were a few new areas being developed and it appeared that alot of the homes might have been second homes for people who lived inland, in Eugene perhaps. It was a cloudy, blustery day, and I hoped that the summers were sunny and the beach inviting to all those who chose to build near the shore. (Ahh, we are so spoiled in sunny San Diego!)
Just five miles north of Bandon is one of the great new golf resorts of the world, Bandon Dunes! I had thought of making a golf stop there, but decided it was too expensive. Instead, we just made a stop at the resort to see what it was like. People come from all over the world to play the two courses, Bandon Dunes and Pacific Dunes, and they have another course in development which should be completed within a year. It is in a pretty setting along the ocean bluffs/dunes with some of the terrain treed, and a good portion of it open to the ocean "breezes". By mid-morning when we got there, the sun had been trying to peak out through scudding clouds and those golfers with the 10 am tee times were lined up at the clubhouse to hit the links. The courses looked very interesting, with the wind a constant factor in the flight of the ball. Another feature I noted was that there are no golf carts allowed and, in fact, no cart paths anywhere on the courses.
There is a big lodge at the Bandon Dunes course with all the amenities one would normally find at a first class country club. Each course has its own small pro shop and there is a shuttle that transports golfers around the resort. Most of the accommadations are two or three unit condo type buildings scattered throughout the wooded area of the resort. It is a wild and remote setting, which must appeal to the many wealthy golfers who come from all over the world to get away from distractions and just play golf. I think the nearest airport is probably in Eugene, which is about a 1-2 hour drive up the coast to Florence and another hour or so inland.
Since there were no golf carts on either course, most of the golfers took caddies to carry their bags and help them find their way around the course. As we walked up to the proshop, there were a few young caddies hanging loose waiting for their golfers to turn up. That's a sight one doesn't see on the public courses where I play golf!!
We watched a foursome tee off on the first tee. With the four golfers and their caddies it looked like an army as they headed down the fairway!!
Back to 101 and we headed north again. We stopped at a viewpoint overlooking the mouth of the Umpqua river. There were alot of dunes, a long jetty and of course, a lighthouse that still was operational. For some reason, I have a fascination with lighthouses. Perhaps it is because most all of them were built in the 19th century, and, even with all the new technologies like LORAN and especially GPS, many of them are still operational. I used to think that the lights were to keep ships from crashing into the rocks, since most of them were built high on a craggy point. But not so. The series of lights down the coasts of both the Atlantic and Pacific were there for navigation. Each light could be identified by its distinctive flashes, and generally could be seen up to about 20-30 miles at sea . They were spaced to provide a method of determining a ship's exact position along the coast. If a ship could see two lights they could triangulate their exact position on a chart. Umpqua lighthouse still has a compound with housing provided for the Coast Guard contingent assigned to the Umpqua river area.
Florence was next up the road, and Nancy had a quilt shop noted on her itinerary so we made a short stop there. The town of about 7-8000 seemed to be mostly businesses spread along the road, with a major intersection with a highway east to Eugene, although I am sure there are probably some nice residential areas tucked away off 101 somewhere. There was a very good golf course there that I wanted to check out but, since golf was off the agenda due to the weather, I didn't even bother to look for it.
We pulled into Newport in mid afternoon. Nancy had a map in her guidebook and a couple of good ideas for inns or B&Bs. After a few wrong turns we finally found ourselves in the Nye Beach area of town and parked in front of a couple old resort hotels/inns. Our first pick was full, but the second, the Nye Beach Inn, had a rm with a vu, so we unhitched and settled in.
Nye Beach was an old resort area and had a very nice and wide protected beach covered with fine sand. The small business section had beachy boutiques, a good ice cream place, a few resturants, and a pretty good coffee/ expresso joint!! everything that we needed! We walked around and checked it all out, and after reading the menus at a few places decided that April's was the place for dinner. It was just down the street from our Inn. After driving so much, we both loved to find places to stay where we could walk to everything!! I went back to the room to relax and watch a bit of TV with a glass of wine, and Nancy decided she would take a walk out on the beach.
I have an impression that dinner at April's was OK, but I don't remember what I had. After dinner we had an ice cream, and were going to stop at a funky outdoor "nightclub" that had a band, but just walked by and peeked in and headed back to our room. One thing I do remember about April's was that one of the waitresses must not have had much sleep that night. We were done with dinner and in bed by 10 pm, and up and at the coffee house before 7am. The waitress from April's was running the counter and making cappachino's before we got there.
I hope she got a nap sometime before her evening shift!
Our next day would put us at the mouth of the Columbia River in Astoria.
Friday
I got up at about 6 am. It was still dark when I quietly slipped out the door to look for a morning paper and head over to the coffee house. I walked a couple of blocks looking for a paper stand and found one near a resturant filled with locals obviously having an early breakfast before going off to work. If I had felt like an omelet or heavy breakfast it looked like the place to go. After walking a couple more blocks I was standing at the counter ordering a large coffee at the caffiene cafe. It was a small place with large bags filled with coffee beans stacked on the floor next to a big industrial sized coffee grinder. They must have ground a bag or two earlier in the morning before opening. A deep breath of the aroma was enough to prop my eyes open a bit wider.
There was a group of about 7 people sitting at a couple of tables they had pushed together in the middle of the room, and two or three other solitary drinkers were sipping on their brews at other small tables lining the wall. It was a bigger crowd than I expected at 6:15 in the morning. I found a spot near the larger group, and found myself a bit too near a spirited political conversation about taxes and investments in tax shelters. I thought that a bit strange from guys dressed in jeans and work shirts, but I guessed that they were some of the cranberry farming crowd and were probably loaded( with cranberry $$$, or maybe fermented juice?). Being rural they were probably Bush backers too, so I tried to remain as inconspicuious as possible and just kept my face in my paper. I was relieved when they broke up and left to go back to the bogs.
Nancy came just after 7 am and ordered her customary double cappachino, and we split some kind of breakfast muffin. She wrote secrets in her journal, and I did the crossword and we were ready to pack up and get out of town.
On the way out we decided to drive the "beach loop", just to see some of the rest of town, and so spent 20 minutes driving by some developments of very nice homes along the beach area on the west side of town. There were a few new areas being developed and it appeared that alot of the homes might have been second homes for people who lived inland, in Eugene perhaps. It was a cloudy, blustery day, and I hoped that the summers were sunny and the beach inviting to all those who chose to build near the shore. (Ahh, we are so spoiled in sunny San Diego!)
Just five miles north of Bandon is one of the great new golf resorts of the world, Bandon Dunes! I had thought of making a golf stop there, but decided it was too expensive. Instead, we just made a stop at the resort to see what it was like. People come from all over the world to play the two courses, Bandon Dunes and Pacific Dunes, and they have another course in development which should be completed within a year. It is in a pretty setting along the ocean bluffs/dunes with some of the terrain treed, and a good portion of it open to the ocean "breezes". By mid-morning when we got there, the sun had been trying to peak out through scudding clouds and those golfers with the 10 am tee times were lined up at the clubhouse to hit the links. The courses looked very interesting, with the wind a constant factor in the flight of the ball. Another feature I noted was that there are no golf carts allowed and, in fact, no cart paths anywhere on the courses.
There is a big lodge at the Bandon Dunes course with all the amenities one would normally find at a first class country club. Each course has its own small pro shop and there is a shuttle that transports golfers around the resort. Most of the accommadations are two or three unit condo type buildings scattered throughout the wooded area of the resort. It is a wild and remote setting, which must appeal to the many wealthy golfers who come from all over the world to get away from distractions and just play golf. I think the nearest airport is probably in Eugene, which is about a 1-2 hour drive up the coast to Florence and another hour or so inland.
Since there were no golf carts on either course, most of the golfers took caddies to carry their bags and help them find their way around the course. As we walked up to the proshop, there were a few young caddies hanging loose waiting for their golfers to turn up. That's a sight one doesn't see on the public courses where I play golf!!
We watched a foursome tee off on the first tee. With the four golfers and their caddies it looked like an army as they headed down the fairway!!
Back to 101 and we headed north again. We stopped at a viewpoint overlooking the mouth of the Umpqua river. There were alot of dunes, a long jetty and of course, a lighthouse that still was operational. For some reason, I have a fascination with lighthouses. Perhaps it is because most all of them were built in the 19th century, and, even with all the new technologies like LORAN and especially GPS, many of them are still operational. I used to think that the lights were to keep ships from crashing into the rocks, since most of them were built high on a craggy point. But not so. The series of lights down the coasts of both the Atlantic and Pacific were there for navigation. Each light could be identified by its distinctive flashes, and generally could be seen up to about 20-30 miles at sea . They were spaced to provide a method of determining a ship's exact position along the coast. If a ship could see two lights they could triangulate their exact position on a chart. Umpqua lighthouse still has a compound with housing provided for the Coast Guard contingent assigned to the Umpqua river area.
Florence was next up the road, and Nancy had a quilt shop noted on her itinerary so we made a short stop there. The town of about 7-8000 seemed to be mostly businesses spread along the road, with a major intersection with a highway east to Eugene, although I am sure there are probably some nice residential areas tucked away off 101 somewhere. There was a very good golf course there that I wanted to check out but, since golf was off the agenda due to the weather, I didn't even bother to look for it.
We pulled into Newport in mid afternoon. Nancy had a map in her guidebook and a couple of good ideas for inns or B&Bs. After a few wrong turns we finally found ourselves in the Nye Beach area of town and parked in front of a couple old resort hotels/inns. Our first pick was full, but the second, the Nye Beach Inn, had a rm with a vu, so we unhitched and settled in.
Nye Beach was an old resort area and had a very nice and wide protected beach covered with fine sand. The small business section had beachy boutiques, a good ice cream place, a few resturants, and a pretty good coffee/ expresso joint!! everything that we needed! We walked around and checked it all out, and after reading the menus at a few places decided that April's was the place for dinner. It was just down the street from our Inn. After driving so much, we both loved to find places to stay where we could walk to everything!! I went back to the room to relax and watch a bit of TV with a glass of wine, and Nancy decided she would take a walk out on the beach.
I have an impression that dinner at April's was OK, but I don't remember what I had. After dinner we had an ice cream, and were going to stop at a funky outdoor "nightclub" that had a band, but just walked by and peeked in and headed back to our room. One thing I do remember about April's was that one of the waitresses must not have had much sleep that night. We were done with dinner and in bed by 10 pm, and up and at the coffee house before 7am. The waitress from April's was running the counter and making cappachino's before we got there.
I hope she got a nap sometime before her evening shift!
Our next day would put us at the mouth of the Columbia River in Astoria.
Tuesday, November 16, 2004
The Oregon Trail--Part VII--The Oregon Coast
Thursday
October 14
It was an exciting day, our first actual day in Oregon! As usual I was up with the sun and had the coffee brewing and almost ready when Nancy got up. We ate the rest of everything we had in the cooler for breakfast, did the dishes, took the tent down, and packed up the car. We were on our way out of the park at about 9 am. And to tell the truth, after three nights in a tent, I was ready for a TV and at least a queen size bed again.
We headed north on 101. The scenery was about the same, mountains and lots of trees, with a bridge over a river now and then. There is not much else between Arcata and the Oregon border. Oh Ya! There is one last tourist stop a few miles north! We had to stop there because there were giant statues of Paul Bunyan and his Blue Ox Babe. I always thought that Bemidji, Minnesota was the official home of Paul and his Ox. My dad took me fishing in that area when I was a small child and we stopped to see them. I bet they were in Bemidji first! Anyway, The California editions were beautiful statues. They were part of the wonder at the "Trees of Mystery" which included a very nice large gift shop, rest room facilities, and a tour of the "Trees of Mystery" which was a hike among some very interesting redwoods, and which also included a short "chairlift" ride in the more steeper part of the trail. We didn't take the hike because we didn't think we had the extra time, plus as "natives" we had seen our share of redwoods. We did stop at the gift shop, strolled through their museum of indian "artifacts" and art objects for sale, bought Matt a couple of post cards, and used the rest rooms. I also asked a gal in the shop how Paul and his Ox had gotten all the way out here from Minnesota. It was apparent that she was no expert on Paul. She thought he had probably walked out to California after he cut down all the trees in Minnesota and was looking for something bigger for his axe. I thought she had a point! I love tourist traps, and the "Trees of Mystery" is one not to be missed. Next time I will take the hike!
We were again on our way and it wasn't long before we saw a sign which said "Welcome to Oregon". I noticed immediate differences as we passed the border. Hwy 101 became a two lane road and pretty much stayed that way except for passing lanes on some hills. There was a sign with a picture of a seat belt placed along Oregon's hwys which said, "Click it up or tick et up!". Price signs at gas stations indicated that gas was much less expensive. My last fill up in California had been 2.59/gal, and the first station I saw in Oregon was 2.05/gal. Wow! All due to taxes and differences in emmisions requirements. Also, it was against the law to pump your own gas in Oregon, so there was always an attendant to do it for you. Now that seemed a bit behind the times, since California has been all self serve for a long time!! The topper was that Oregon has no sales tax. It took a bit of time to get used to! When something was priced at $10, it was just $10, and not $10.75 as it would have been back in San Diego! That was cool!!
Hwy 101 turned back to the coast as we entered Oregon and the ocean was again in sight far below as the hwy wound around the bluffs along the coast. A few miles past the border we stopped at a tourist trap which had some "Seal Caves". There was a nice gift shop. Admission to the caves far below was 10-12 dollars, and there was an elevator to take you down. But the attendant said the seals were not there at the moment. We see alot of seals in San Diego, so we bought a couple of post cards and jumped back in the car.
A few miles more and there was a scenic overview that looked interesting so I whipped across the hwy to the parking area. There was a short pathway down to an overlook and a great view of a couple of large natural stone bridges over a small inlet with a blowhole which shot water up in the air 10-20 ft with each surge of the waves. The Natural Bridges was a great stop!!
We stopped for lunch at Coos Bay. It is the largest city on the southern Oregon Coast, and in the late 19th and early 20th Century was a busy port due to the lumber industry. At that time there were not any roads or railroads leading to the outside in that part of the state due to the rugged terrain. So everything came up and down rivers to Coos Bay and out to San Francisco to the South and as far as Portland and Seattle to the North. It still has some port facilities, but with roads and railroads it is not so active. It did have a quilt store however. And it still has a large lumber mill on the south end of the bay.
We walked around a bit in the old downtown, and stopped at a friendly cafe which had a number of soup and sandwich combos for lunch. The menu and the decor had an "African" theme, which I thought was very odd for a place like Coos Bay. The menu was strictly American deli, but had sandwiches with names drawn from African themes. (B'wana's favorite wild pastrami on rye?) There was African art even hanging on the walls! I talked to the waitress a bit (between her hot flashes? She had to take off her sweater!) and it turned out that the owner was from South Africa, had immigrated, and ended up in Coos Bay running a deli cafe. She was in the kitchen cooking!!(Making Water Buffulo Stew no doubt!)
After lunch, I left Nancy at the quilt shop and headed off to walk around town a bit. I found a couple antique shops to walk through. It is interesting how antiques sometimes reflect the area they are in. One of the shops was filled with nautical stuff as well as old ship building tools which probably were collected in the Coos Bay area.
I went back to pick Nancy up, but she was not at the shop. I walked through and knew why. It was a walk in and walk out! Nothing interesting there for her! So I sat on a bench on the corner and 15 minutes later she turned up. She had found a nice crafts and art gallery and had spent some time talking with the owner--and of course had bought a little something as well.
We headed north towards Bandon. Most of the area was rural, and it was interesting to note that there were shops here and there along the road selling things carved and made out off Myrtle wood, which seemed to be the local "special" tourist staple, and that the area's main agricultural product were cranberry's grown in bogs somewhere out there off the hwy!
We were soon in Bandon and drove through the business district until we reached the "Olde" touristy part of town, which was by the marina. It had many renovated buildings with cafes, galleries, and gift shops catering to "people like us"(tourists)! Nancy's guide book provided some direction regarding places to stay, and as we drove the waterfront we espied the Sea Star Inn, which her guide book described as part "hostel" and part "hotel". It looked like our kind of place--and we got a room overlooking the marina that had a queen size bed with cable TV, and a bathroom with a shower. Perfect!
We settled in and went for a walk. The weather had changed and had become more "brisk". It was Oregon weather and just to Nancy's liking.
We went exploring and here was a quilt store a block away! Nancy walked in and out of this one too! We walked into a boutique and I struck up a conversation with the slightly elderly shopkeeper. She had lived in encinitas years ago and had owned a shop in Luecadia which her son now had as his business. Nancy knew the shop and thought she knew her son!! Small world! I told her we would say hello to him when we got home. I wonder if we will remember. We checked out the two or three resturants in the area and decided to make reservations at a small French oriented cafe where they brewed their own beer and ale. Down the street just behind our inn we found the best coffee place in town. They opened at 6 am and ground their own beans daily! So we were set for the morning. We bought a cheap bottle of wine and went back to the room to have "cocktails" while we dressed for dinner. The dinner was pretty good and the beer was fair, but then it was hard to compete with Nancy's gourmet camp dinners.
The bed was real comfortable compared to my air mattress! As usual, I fell asleep while Nancy was still watching TV.
October 14
It was an exciting day, our first actual day in Oregon! As usual I was up with the sun and had the coffee brewing and almost ready when Nancy got up. We ate the rest of everything we had in the cooler for breakfast, did the dishes, took the tent down, and packed up the car. We were on our way out of the park at about 9 am. And to tell the truth, after three nights in a tent, I was ready for a TV and at least a queen size bed again.
We headed north on 101. The scenery was about the same, mountains and lots of trees, with a bridge over a river now and then. There is not much else between Arcata and the Oregon border. Oh Ya! There is one last tourist stop a few miles north! We had to stop there because there were giant statues of Paul Bunyan and his Blue Ox Babe. I always thought that Bemidji, Minnesota was the official home of Paul and his Ox. My dad took me fishing in that area when I was a small child and we stopped to see them. I bet they were in Bemidji first! Anyway, The California editions were beautiful statues. They were part of the wonder at the "Trees of Mystery" which included a very nice large gift shop, rest room facilities, and a tour of the "Trees of Mystery" which was a hike among some very interesting redwoods, and which also included a short "chairlift" ride in the more steeper part of the trail. We didn't take the hike because we didn't think we had the extra time, plus as "natives" we had seen our share of redwoods. We did stop at the gift shop, strolled through their museum of indian "artifacts" and art objects for sale, bought Matt a couple of post cards, and used the rest rooms. I also asked a gal in the shop how Paul and his Ox had gotten all the way out here from Minnesota. It was apparent that she was no expert on Paul. She thought he had probably walked out to California after he cut down all the trees in Minnesota and was looking for something bigger for his axe. I thought she had a point! I love tourist traps, and the "Trees of Mystery" is one not to be missed. Next time I will take the hike!
We were again on our way and it wasn't long before we saw a sign which said "Welcome to Oregon". I noticed immediate differences as we passed the border. Hwy 101 became a two lane road and pretty much stayed that way except for passing lanes on some hills. There was a sign with a picture of a seat belt placed along Oregon's hwys which said, "Click it up or tick et up!". Price signs at gas stations indicated that gas was much less expensive. My last fill up in California had been 2.59/gal, and the first station I saw in Oregon was 2.05/gal. Wow! All due to taxes and differences in emmisions requirements. Also, it was against the law to pump your own gas in Oregon, so there was always an attendant to do it for you. Now that seemed a bit behind the times, since California has been all self serve for a long time!! The topper was that Oregon has no sales tax. It took a bit of time to get used to! When something was priced at $10, it was just $10, and not $10.75 as it would have been back in San Diego! That was cool!!
Hwy 101 turned back to the coast as we entered Oregon and the ocean was again in sight far below as the hwy wound around the bluffs along the coast. A few miles past the border we stopped at a tourist trap which had some "Seal Caves". There was a nice gift shop. Admission to the caves far below was 10-12 dollars, and there was an elevator to take you down. But the attendant said the seals were not there at the moment. We see alot of seals in San Diego, so we bought a couple of post cards and jumped back in the car.
A few miles more and there was a scenic overview that looked interesting so I whipped across the hwy to the parking area. There was a short pathway down to an overlook and a great view of a couple of large natural stone bridges over a small inlet with a blowhole which shot water up in the air 10-20 ft with each surge of the waves. The Natural Bridges was a great stop!!
We stopped for lunch at Coos Bay. It is the largest city on the southern Oregon Coast, and in the late 19th and early 20th Century was a busy port due to the lumber industry. At that time there were not any roads or railroads leading to the outside in that part of the state due to the rugged terrain. So everything came up and down rivers to Coos Bay and out to San Francisco to the South and as far as Portland and Seattle to the North. It still has some port facilities, but with roads and railroads it is not so active. It did have a quilt store however. And it still has a large lumber mill on the south end of the bay.
We walked around a bit in the old downtown, and stopped at a friendly cafe which had a number of soup and sandwich combos for lunch. The menu and the decor had an "African" theme, which I thought was very odd for a place like Coos Bay. The menu was strictly American deli, but had sandwiches with names drawn from African themes. (B'wana's favorite wild pastrami on rye?) There was African art even hanging on the walls! I talked to the waitress a bit (between her hot flashes? She had to take off her sweater!) and it turned out that the owner was from South Africa, had immigrated, and ended up in Coos Bay running a deli cafe. She was in the kitchen cooking!!(Making Water Buffulo Stew no doubt!)
After lunch, I left Nancy at the quilt shop and headed off to walk around town a bit. I found a couple antique shops to walk through. It is interesting how antiques sometimes reflect the area they are in. One of the shops was filled with nautical stuff as well as old ship building tools which probably were collected in the Coos Bay area.
I went back to pick Nancy up, but she was not at the shop. I walked through and knew why. It was a walk in and walk out! Nothing interesting there for her! So I sat on a bench on the corner and 15 minutes later she turned up. She had found a nice crafts and art gallery and had spent some time talking with the owner--and of course had bought a little something as well.
We headed north towards Bandon. Most of the area was rural, and it was interesting to note that there were shops here and there along the road selling things carved and made out off Myrtle wood, which seemed to be the local "special" tourist staple, and that the area's main agricultural product were cranberry's grown in bogs somewhere out there off the hwy!
We were soon in Bandon and drove through the business district until we reached the "Olde" touristy part of town, which was by the marina. It had many renovated buildings with cafes, galleries, and gift shops catering to "people like us"(tourists)! Nancy's guide book provided some direction regarding places to stay, and as we drove the waterfront we espied the Sea Star Inn, which her guide book described as part "hostel" and part "hotel". It looked like our kind of place--and we got a room overlooking the marina that had a queen size bed with cable TV, and a bathroom with a shower. Perfect!
We settled in and went for a walk. The weather had changed and had become more "brisk". It was Oregon weather and just to Nancy's liking.
We went exploring and here was a quilt store a block away! Nancy walked in and out of this one too! We walked into a boutique and I struck up a conversation with the slightly elderly shopkeeper. She had lived in encinitas years ago and had owned a shop in Luecadia which her son now had as his business. Nancy knew the shop and thought she knew her son!! Small world! I told her we would say hello to him when we got home. I wonder if we will remember. We checked out the two or three resturants in the area and decided to make reservations at a small French oriented cafe where they brewed their own beer and ale. Down the street just behind our inn we found the best coffee place in town. They opened at 6 am and ground their own beans daily! So we were set for the morning. We bought a cheap bottle of wine and went back to the room to have "cocktails" while we dressed for dinner. The dinner was pretty good and the beer was fair, but then it was hard to compete with Nancy's gourmet camp dinners.
The bed was real comfortable compared to my air mattress! As usual, I fell asleep while Nancy was still watching TV.
Friday, November 12, 2004
The Oregon Trail--Part VI--A Day in Arcata
October 13, 2004
Wednesday
The trick in making an air mattress comfortable and stable is not to fill it up with so much air, so it will conform to the body's contours a bit. Then, instead of trying to balance on top of it, you can sink into it. Just make sure there is enough air to keep you off the ground. It had been to long since I had been camping. But it seemed that I had adjusted, since the second night was more comfortable and I slept more, even though I made my customary late night hike to the loo. The weather was still summerlike when I woke in the morning, and with the same routine, started the stove and the coffee pot going. Nancy was soon up and the frying pan was again a'sizzling.
Today was our day to spend roaming around Arcata and the vicinity. If we had time we would get to a beach for a couple of hours so I could check out the surf for fish.
By around 9:30 am we were ready to head off on our adventures for the day. We stopped at the Post office in Trinidad to mail Matt some postcards, and then headed towards Arcata. Nancy also wanted to check out the small town of McKinleyville which was just north of Arcata and on our way from Trinidad, so we took the exit off 101 when it came up. She said there was a quilt store there. I thought that McKinleyville would be a bump in the road, but as we approached it was apparent that there was alot going on with newer shopping centers and housing construction all along the road. It seemed to be a pretty busy place, with a fairly sizeable high school, and alot of businesses along the main drag! Nancy didn't know where the Quilt shop was, but it seemed to be a place where we did not want to stop, so we just drove through and back on 101 into Arcata.
Arcata is a college town. Humbolt State University is located there and has a very positive cultural impact on a town which is not much bigger in population that the student body of the school. Because of its location, the University has excellent cirriculums in Forestry Management and in Marine Biology as specialty areas of study. Nancy likes college towns and it was on her list of possible retirement communities.
We stopped in the middle of town and parked at the central square. The square was a full city block, around which all the old business section of the town had been originally built. Many of the early buildings had been renovated and restored and were still in use. The biggest building was an old hotel, which had been restored and still entertaned guests. In the center of the square was a suitably handsome statute of President William McKinley, in a presidential pose high upon a pedestal, blessing all within his view. It was commissioned by a weathy resident who had met him in 1901 and admired him as the "first modern President". In 1905 he commissioned a San Francisco artist to produce the statue for the kingly sum of $15000. Unfortunately The statue was almost lost in the great 1906 earthquake, but was rescued from the foundry by some passersby just before the foundry burned to the ground. It was shipped to Eureka in May of 1906, trucked to Arcata and installed in the square on July 4, 1906 with over 2000 visitors in attendance. Humbolt State campus is walking distance to the Square, and the statue is a rallying point for all the Humbolt State University students to stage protests against the latest "injustice de jour".
Just off the square was a quilt fabric shop! While Nancy spent her time sorting through all the colors, I walked around town a bit, hit the bank's ATM for some cash, and spent time sitting on a bench in the square having a silent conversation with President "Bill".
I went back to pick up Nancy, took some pictures of her and the Quilt Girls and we were off to explore the town and area a bit. I wanted to check out the golf courses and she wanted to check out the University. We drove through the south part of town where the "country club" was located. It was a nice area with lots of trees. The country club had been built as a draw by the developer. I stopped and got the material for membership. It seemed expensive for what it was. I was not impressed. We headed over to the University. It was just on the North side of 101 just a few blocks from the downtown area. There was a pedestrian bridge over Hwy 101 so students could walk from the school to the downtown area in safety, plus it probably helped the merchants alot with student business. The University was built on a wooded hillside. There were not alot of roads we could take to drive around the campus much, and after 10 minutes of making u-turns at the end of a number of cul de sacs we decided we had seen enough and headed north towards Trinidad again. There was another public course north of town, and of course, I had to stop there to check it out. It was short, under 6000 yards, and wasn't very appealing, althogh it was getting good play for early afternoon. All in all, the golf experiece potential in the area left alot to be desired.
Nancy wasn't giving up on McKinleyville, and we took another road into town past the small airport, but it was to no avail. The lost quilt shop did not appear and we ended up at the same busy shopping center.
I had stopped earlier at a local fishing bait shop in Trinidad and bought some shrimp for bait, and got a recommendation for a beach to try up north of where we were camped, so we decided to head for the surf. It was a pretty drive, and about 7-8 miles on 101 north of Pete's Point State Park (where we were camped) there was the sign pointing to a small county park with great access to a broad beach of black sand, obviously washed down rivers from volcanic sources like Mt. Shasta far inland.
The road into the park was about 1/2 mile long, and on the way we saw a small herd of Roosevelt Elk sharing a pasture with two horses. There were two big males with very large racks, so we stopped and looked through the binoculars for a few minutes. (It was a big day for presidents--both McKinley and Roosevelt left impressions all in one day!)
While it was a balmy day for the area, the wind was still brisk off the ocean. It was jacket weather out on the beach. We hauled our beach chairs and my fishing equipment a ways down the beach to a likely spot and set up shop. The beach dropped into the surf quite abruptly, and the waves hitting the beach were heavy and looked angry. It did not look like a friendly beach where one could wade into the surf without taking the chance of being dragged out to sea. It was very different than the shallow beaches of Southern California where one can usually wade out 20 ft or so into the surf to fish. So I stayed on the beach, and heaved my line as best I could into the stiff breeze. It didn't get out into the surf very far, but sometimes surf perch are right in close to shore. I kept losing bait even though I tied it on the hook. On occassion I thought perhaps I lost it to a "strike", but maybe that was just the optimism one must have to "go fishin". More likely, the surf just sucked it off!
Nancy thought the beach was beautiful and took off on a long walk to the north. An hour went by, with me baiting up and fighting the surf, and I was tapped out for the day. Surf fishing in the north is a tougher proposition than in the gentle climes of the south. We packed up, took a look at the the two big bull elk on the way out, and headed back to camp.
Most of the California State Parks have loos with showers and hot water. They are coin operated and a nice long shower with hot water can be had for about 50 cents. Both of us were ready for that and headed for the shower when we got back to camp. Who was it that said "You should change underwear at least twice a week!". We came out feeling all fresh with clean undies and were ready for another of Nancy's gourmet camp dinners, and of course, a couple glasses of wine to mellow us out in the woods. This was our last day in California, and in the morning we would again head north towards Bandon and our first day on the Oregon coast.
Wednesday
The trick in making an air mattress comfortable and stable is not to fill it up with so much air, so it will conform to the body's contours a bit. Then, instead of trying to balance on top of it, you can sink into it. Just make sure there is enough air to keep you off the ground. It had been to long since I had been camping. But it seemed that I had adjusted, since the second night was more comfortable and I slept more, even though I made my customary late night hike to the loo. The weather was still summerlike when I woke in the morning, and with the same routine, started the stove and the coffee pot going. Nancy was soon up and the frying pan was again a'sizzling.
Today was our day to spend roaming around Arcata and the vicinity. If we had time we would get to a beach for a couple of hours so I could check out the surf for fish.
By around 9:30 am we were ready to head off on our adventures for the day. We stopped at the Post office in Trinidad to mail Matt some postcards, and then headed towards Arcata. Nancy also wanted to check out the small town of McKinleyville which was just north of Arcata and on our way from Trinidad, so we took the exit off 101 when it came up. She said there was a quilt store there. I thought that McKinleyville would be a bump in the road, but as we approached it was apparent that there was alot going on with newer shopping centers and housing construction all along the road. It seemed to be a pretty busy place, with a fairly sizeable high school, and alot of businesses along the main drag! Nancy didn't know where the Quilt shop was, but it seemed to be a place where we did not want to stop, so we just drove through and back on 101 into Arcata.
Arcata is a college town. Humbolt State University is located there and has a very positive cultural impact on a town which is not much bigger in population that the student body of the school. Because of its location, the University has excellent cirriculums in Forestry Management and in Marine Biology as specialty areas of study. Nancy likes college towns and it was on her list of possible retirement communities.
We stopped in the middle of town and parked at the central square. The square was a full city block, around which all the old business section of the town had been originally built. Many of the early buildings had been renovated and restored and were still in use. The biggest building was an old hotel, which had been restored and still entertaned guests. In the center of the square was a suitably handsome statute of President William McKinley, in a presidential pose high upon a pedestal, blessing all within his view. It was commissioned by a weathy resident who had met him in 1901 and admired him as the "first modern President". In 1905 he commissioned a San Francisco artist to produce the statue for the kingly sum of $15000. Unfortunately The statue was almost lost in the great 1906 earthquake, but was rescued from the foundry by some passersby just before the foundry burned to the ground. It was shipped to Eureka in May of 1906, trucked to Arcata and installed in the square on July 4, 1906 with over 2000 visitors in attendance. Humbolt State campus is walking distance to the Square, and the statue is a rallying point for all the Humbolt State University students to stage protests against the latest "injustice de jour".
Just off the square was a quilt fabric shop! While Nancy spent her time sorting through all the colors, I walked around town a bit, hit the bank's ATM for some cash, and spent time sitting on a bench in the square having a silent conversation with President "Bill".
I went back to pick up Nancy, took some pictures of her and the Quilt Girls and we were off to explore the town and area a bit. I wanted to check out the golf courses and she wanted to check out the University. We drove through the south part of town where the "country club" was located. It was a nice area with lots of trees. The country club had been built as a draw by the developer. I stopped and got the material for membership. It seemed expensive for what it was. I was not impressed. We headed over to the University. It was just on the North side of 101 just a few blocks from the downtown area. There was a pedestrian bridge over Hwy 101 so students could walk from the school to the downtown area in safety, plus it probably helped the merchants alot with student business. The University was built on a wooded hillside. There were not alot of roads we could take to drive around the campus much, and after 10 minutes of making u-turns at the end of a number of cul de sacs we decided we had seen enough and headed north towards Trinidad again. There was another public course north of town, and of course, I had to stop there to check it out. It was short, under 6000 yards, and wasn't very appealing, althogh it was getting good play for early afternoon. All in all, the golf experiece potential in the area left alot to be desired.
Nancy wasn't giving up on McKinleyville, and we took another road into town past the small airport, but it was to no avail. The lost quilt shop did not appear and we ended up at the same busy shopping center.
I had stopped earlier at a local fishing bait shop in Trinidad and bought some shrimp for bait, and got a recommendation for a beach to try up north of where we were camped, so we decided to head for the surf. It was a pretty drive, and about 7-8 miles on 101 north of Pete's Point State Park (where we were camped) there was the sign pointing to a small county park with great access to a broad beach of black sand, obviously washed down rivers from volcanic sources like Mt. Shasta far inland.
The road into the park was about 1/2 mile long, and on the way we saw a small herd of Roosevelt Elk sharing a pasture with two horses. There were two big males with very large racks, so we stopped and looked through the binoculars for a few minutes. (It was a big day for presidents--both McKinley and Roosevelt left impressions all in one day!)
While it was a balmy day for the area, the wind was still brisk off the ocean. It was jacket weather out on the beach. We hauled our beach chairs and my fishing equipment a ways down the beach to a likely spot and set up shop. The beach dropped into the surf quite abruptly, and the waves hitting the beach were heavy and looked angry. It did not look like a friendly beach where one could wade into the surf without taking the chance of being dragged out to sea. It was very different than the shallow beaches of Southern California where one can usually wade out 20 ft or so into the surf to fish. So I stayed on the beach, and heaved my line as best I could into the stiff breeze. It didn't get out into the surf very far, but sometimes surf perch are right in close to shore. I kept losing bait even though I tied it on the hook. On occassion I thought perhaps I lost it to a "strike", but maybe that was just the optimism one must have to "go fishin". More likely, the surf just sucked it off!
Nancy thought the beach was beautiful and took off on a long walk to the north. An hour went by, with me baiting up and fighting the surf, and I was tapped out for the day. Surf fishing in the north is a tougher proposition than in the gentle climes of the south. We packed up, took a look at the the two big bull elk on the way out, and headed back to camp.
Most of the California State Parks have loos with showers and hot water. They are coin operated and a nice long shower with hot water can be had for about 50 cents. Both of us were ready for that and headed for the shower when we got back to camp. Who was it that said "You should change underwear at least twice a week!". We came out feeling all fresh with clean undies and were ready for another of Nancy's gourmet camp dinners, and of course, a couple glasses of wine to mellow us out in the woods. This was our last day in California, and in the morning we would again head north towards Bandon and our first day on the Oregon coast.
Tuesday, November 09, 2004
The Oregon Trail--Part V--Trinidad & Ferndale
October 12, 2004
Tuesday
I was awake early. I never did get completely comfortable on the air mattress, which seemed a bit small for me. I kept rolling off the edge of it and it was hard to get the sleeping bag properly situated. So as it became a bit light outside, I rolled out and got dressed, grabbed my toilet kit and headed off to the loo. No one else in the campground seemed to be up as of yet. The Sun was not yet above the horizon, or at least was still far below the crests of the mountains to the east, so the light was grey and not very inviting to early risers I guess. I finished shaving in cold water and headed back to our campsite. It was my early morning job to get the Coleman stove going and start a pot of coffee perking. Once the blurp" of the perculator started and the smell of coffee started towards the tent, I heard Nancy making wakeful noises, and soon her head popped out of the tent looking for some caffiene. I got all the breakfast goodies and cooking stuff out of the trunk, and as soon as Nancy had a shot of caffiene, she had bacon and eggs going in a frying pan. I was reviewing all the information about the area from the brouchures we picked up at the visiter's center so we could set our itinerary for the day.
We needed to do laundry. We had noticed a laundramat in Trinidad, so after breakfast that's where we headed. There was a great little quilt store in Trinidad as well. How handy!! Tinidad was a very small village of maybe 200 people tops, but Nancy thought the quilt store there was very nice. She measures quilt stores not by their size, but by the creativity of the owners, and their selection of fabrics in their inventory. There were a few stores that she just walked in and out of on our trip. This one got her attention, however, and she spent some time there picking out some fabrics for her "collection", and talking with the owner and other quilters looking for the "right stuff". I overheard a scandinavian accent from one of the women, and thought to myself that quilter's sure will go a long way for the "right stuff"!
While she was was doing her thing, I had time to wander down the block to take some pictures of the "replica" of the Trinidad lighthouse light and a small memorial to those who had lost their lives at sea off the Trinidad coast. The real light was still in operation out on the point, but was not accessable by the public. It was a clear sunny day and the view down the coast towards Arcata and Eureka was a blue sparkle accented by white surf rolling against blackish sand beaches.
Across the street there was an old cottage with a sign on it that said "Gallery". There was a tall, lanky man with a pork pie hat covering his longish white hair doing gardening in the front yard. He paused in his weeding and greeted me as I approached the white picket gate. I chatted with him and found out a bit about Trinidad, most notably that it was at the same laditude as Chicago, but that the Trinidad weather was much more agreeable. He said he had been to Alaska, Africa, and all over the West, and Trinidad was just the best place to be. As I wandered through the rooms of the cottage, I noticed that the back rooms were living quarters and the front three rooms were the "Gallery". The art portrayed wild animals of the western states, with a few from Africa. They were all in oil, and most were simply framed. It was apparent from my earlier conversation with him that the artist was out front weeding. His signature was on all of the canvases. Prices ranged from around $100 up to about $1000 for the largest effort. They were not really good, but seemed fairly priced for their quality. I think he liked his home and business in this little village and I wondered whether he still painted, ever sold anything, or was content to weed his garden and have a chat now and then with a guy waiting for his "quilter" to finish shopping across the street! I bid him a good day and walked back across the street to check on Nancy's progress. She was almost done, and I took a picture of her with the store owner, and another in front of the store, and we headed south on 101.
Today was a touring day, and from the small village of Trinidad, we decided to visit the small victorian village of Ferndale. Ferndale was about 20 minutes south of Eureka and 5 miles east of 101 in a valley mostly noted for dairy farms and cheese. As a town it was a nationally designated landmark because of the restoration effort that had been made to preserve all of the victorian buildings on the 2-3 blocks of the main street, as well as a couple beautiful old churches and homes scattered throughout the few streets in town. Because of that, it got a pretty good flow of tourists off 101 in the summer, had a little seasonal theater, an old fairgrounds out by the High School, a couple of restored Victorian B&Bs, and of course a cute quilt store and knit store!!
It was the off season, so the town was quiet. I was the only one walking around with a camera hanging over my shoulder, or standing in the middle of main street taking pictures. The first thing we did was find the best coffee place so Nancy could get a double cappachino. The perked coffee made on the coleman stove that morning proved not to be an adequate dose of caffiene to last her the day! We walked the two or three blocks of the main street, and came to the quilt store, where Nancy decided to browse. The store was located in a building which was shared by a gallery with art and jewelry, a specialty knit store, an artist who made some interesting craft art, and an artist's exhibit/museum of funky vehicles which had been made for an annual well known "race" from Arcata to Eureka. After walking through the shops, I sat on a bench in the foyer to wait for Nancy. All the women who were manning the shop counters were in a lunch mode and had ordered pizza together. There was a common table just outside the quilt store in the foyer which was the center of the pizza eating and yakking activity. They all could sit there and yet keep an eye on anyone who came in to their shops. One of the gals had brought in a new litter of puppies who were part this and that, and was making an effort to find them all a home. She said she was giving the mother a break. They couldn't have been more that a few days old, and, of course, were very cute and got carried around and cooed over alot by everyone who dropped in. (Who knows what they will grow up to be!) It was a pretty comfortable place to be!
Nancy finished both shops and we headed back to the car. We drove some of the streets around town, and I was reminded of the small Minnesota farm community where I grew up, Bricelyn, Minn., Pop. 600! Four or five blocks in any direction from the center of town, and you were out in a field!
We headed back towards Eureka and decided to stop and walk around the old historic section of the town, which had been admirably restored. We stopped at the Maritime Museum near the bay, made a suggested donation, and found out all about the logging operations which made Eureka the major port of Northern California in the late 1800's and early 1900's. The museum was in a early 20th century building with old wooden floors. There was an elderly gentleman in charge of the guest book who I thought might have been old enough to be considered one of the museum exhibits himself! Following a walking tour around a few blocks we needed a treat! We looked for an ice cream shop without luck, so finally had to stop and ask a local who directed us back to a shop which we had passed earlier, that had an ice cream "bar" that wasn't apparent from the outside. They had good stuff, and Nancy's other favorite craving was satisfied for the day.
We decided to head back to camp with a stop in Arcata for goodies for a camp dinner that night, and hoped to get back to camp in time for a short hike along the bluff to watch the sun go down and sssssst off into the Pacific. We arrived in camp a bit late but started off on our hike. We walked on the path just south of the campground and came to a small clearing on the edge overlooking the ocean and the sunset. Another couple about our age were all settled in their reclining camp chairs, sipping wine, munching snacks, and enjoying the spectacle when we got there. We chatted a bit until the last of the Sun disappeared and headed back to camp to cook while there was still some light. Another of Nancy's gourmet camp meals, a walk around the campground in the dark looking at the stars so bright in the darkness, and I was ready to try my luck with the air mattress for another night!
Tomorrow I hoped to have a a couple of hours to do some surf fishing somewhere along the coast!
Tuesday
I was awake early. I never did get completely comfortable on the air mattress, which seemed a bit small for me. I kept rolling off the edge of it and it was hard to get the sleeping bag properly situated. So as it became a bit light outside, I rolled out and got dressed, grabbed my toilet kit and headed off to the loo. No one else in the campground seemed to be up as of yet. The Sun was not yet above the horizon, or at least was still far below the crests of the mountains to the east, so the light was grey and not very inviting to early risers I guess. I finished shaving in cold water and headed back to our campsite. It was my early morning job to get the Coleman stove going and start a pot of coffee perking. Once the blurp" of the perculator started and the smell of coffee started towards the tent, I heard Nancy making wakeful noises, and soon her head popped out of the tent looking for some caffiene. I got all the breakfast goodies and cooking stuff out of the trunk, and as soon as Nancy had a shot of caffiene, she had bacon and eggs going in a frying pan. I was reviewing all the information about the area from the brouchures we picked up at the visiter's center so we could set our itinerary for the day.
We needed to do laundry. We had noticed a laundramat in Trinidad, so after breakfast that's where we headed. There was a great little quilt store in Trinidad as well. How handy!! Tinidad was a very small village of maybe 200 people tops, but Nancy thought the quilt store there was very nice. She measures quilt stores not by their size, but by the creativity of the owners, and their selection of fabrics in their inventory. There were a few stores that she just walked in and out of on our trip. This one got her attention, however, and she spent some time there picking out some fabrics for her "collection", and talking with the owner and other quilters looking for the "right stuff". I overheard a scandinavian accent from one of the women, and thought to myself that quilter's sure will go a long way for the "right stuff"!
While she was was doing her thing, I had time to wander down the block to take some pictures of the "replica" of the Trinidad lighthouse light and a small memorial to those who had lost their lives at sea off the Trinidad coast. The real light was still in operation out on the point, but was not accessable by the public. It was a clear sunny day and the view down the coast towards Arcata and Eureka was a blue sparkle accented by white surf rolling against blackish sand beaches.
Across the street there was an old cottage with a sign on it that said "Gallery". There was a tall, lanky man with a pork pie hat covering his longish white hair doing gardening in the front yard. He paused in his weeding and greeted me as I approached the white picket gate. I chatted with him and found out a bit about Trinidad, most notably that it was at the same laditude as Chicago, but that the Trinidad weather was much more agreeable. He said he had been to Alaska, Africa, and all over the West, and Trinidad was just the best place to be. As I wandered through the rooms of the cottage, I noticed that the back rooms were living quarters and the front three rooms were the "Gallery". The art portrayed wild animals of the western states, with a few from Africa. They were all in oil, and most were simply framed. It was apparent from my earlier conversation with him that the artist was out front weeding. His signature was on all of the canvases. Prices ranged from around $100 up to about $1000 for the largest effort. They were not really good, but seemed fairly priced for their quality. I think he liked his home and business in this little village and I wondered whether he still painted, ever sold anything, or was content to weed his garden and have a chat now and then with a guy waiting for his "quilter" to finish shopping across the street! I bid him a good day and walked back across the street to check on Nancy's progress. She was almost done, and I took a picture of her with the store owner, and another in front of the store, and we headed south on 101.
Today was a touring day, and from the small village of Trinidad, we decided to visit the small victorian village of Ferndale. Ferndale was about 20 minutes south of Eureka and 5 miles east of 101 in a valley mostly noted for dairy farms and cheese. As a town it was a nationally designated landmark because of the restoration effort that had been made to preserve all of the victorian buildings on the 2-3 blocks of the main street, as well as a couple beautiful old churches and homes scattered throughout the few streets in town. Because of that, it got a pretty good flow of tourists off 101 in the summer, had a little seasonal theater, an old fairgrounds out by the High School, a couple of restored Victorian B&Bs, and of course a cute quilt store and knit store!!
It was the off season, so the town was quiet. I was the only one walking around with a camera hanging over my shoulder, or standing in the middle of main street taking pictures. The first thing we did was find the best coffee place so Nancy could get a double cappachino. The perked coffee made on the coleman stove that morning proved not to be an adequate dose of caffiene to last her the day! We walked the two or three blocks of the main street, and came to the quilt store, where Nancy decided to browse. The store was located in a building which was shared by a gallery with art and jewelry, a specialty knit store, an artist who made some interesting craft art, and an artist's exhibit/museum of funky vehicles which had been made for an annual well known "race" from Arcata to Eureka. After walking through the shops, I sat on a bench in the foyer to wait for Nancy. All the women who were manning the shop counters were in a lunch mode and had ordered pizza together. There was a common table just outside the quilt store in the foyer which was the center of the pizza eating and yakking activity. They all could sit there and yet keep an eye on anyone who came in to their shops. One of the gals had brought in a new litter of puppies who were part this and that, and was making an effort to find them all a home. She said she was giving the mother a break. They couldn't have been more that a few days old, and, of course, were very cute and got carried around and cooed over alot by everyone who dropped in. (Who knows what they will grow up to be!) It was a pretty comfortable place to be!
Nancy finished both shops and we headed back to the car. We drove some of the streets around town, and I was reminded of the small Minnesota farm community where I grew up, Bricelyn, Minn., Pop. 600! Four or five blocks in any direction from the center of town, and you were out in a field!
We headed back towards Eureka and decided to stop and walk around the old historic section of the town, which had been admirably restored. We stopped at the Maritime Museum near the bay, made a suggested donation, and found out all about the logging operations which made Eureka the major port of Northern California in the late 1800's and early 1900's. The museum was in a early 20th century building with old wooden floors. There was an elderly gentleman in charge of the guest book who I thought might have been old enough to be considered one of the museum exhibits himself! Following a walking tour around a few blocks we needed a treat! We looked for an ice cream shop without luck, so finally had to stop and ask a local who directed us back to a shop which we had passed earlier, that had an ice cream "bar" that wasn't apparent from the outside. They had good stuff, and Nancy's other favorite craving was satisfied for the day.
We decided to head back to camp with a stop in Arcata for goodies for a camp dinner that night, and hoped to get back to camp in time for a short hike along the bluff to watch the sun go down and sssssst off into the Pacific. We arrived in camp a bit late but started off on our hike. We walked on the path just south of the campground and came to a small clearing on the edge overlooking the ocean and the sunset. Another couple about our age were all settled in their reclining camp chairs, sipping wine, munching snacks, and enjoying the spectacle when we got there. We chatted a bit until the last of the Sun disappeared and headed back to camp to cook while there was still some light. Another of Nancy's gourmet camp meals, a walk around the campground in the dark looking at the stars so bright in the darkness, and I was ready to try my luck with the air mattress for another night!
Tomorrow I hoped to have a a couple of hours to do some surf fishing somewhere along the coast!
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