Sand, Waves, and the Northwest

              

              Imagine Lewis and Clark coming to the end of the trail—the mighty Pacific as it meets the Columbia River. The river that now divides Washington and Oregon meets the ocean in a treacherous clash of waves that sailors worldwide know to fear.

               The world’s best bar pilots guide freighters, cruise liners, and other vessels through the turbulent sea and upriver to Astoria, Portland, and the wheat silos of eastern Washington. Oregon’s Fort Stevens state park sits at the confluence of the river and sea. We spent a few days in the near-empty park where we braved the wind to view the waves. Pelicans soared above, and the dogs sniffed sand and sea. It was magnificent.

               If you ever get to Astoria, make sure to check out Josephson’s. Great smoked fish, chowder, local jams. The smoked albacore is superb. Nearby, the Bridgewater Bistro looks out on the river and serves fresh-off-the-boat salmon.

               We’ve completed our northern journey, landing in Bellingham, home of Kati’s brother and family. After a few dreadful days in Tacoma, we were thrilled to be here. There are some things you need to know about Tacoma:

·        The museums are terrific. The Museum of Glass www.museumofglass.org is NOT a memorial to Chihuly, although he’s a native of the area. He designed the  ceiling and wall of glass on the bridge that leads to the museum, incredible glass sculptures that dance in the sun. The museum houses many other fine glass blowers’ works and a huge glass blowing “hot spot,” a giant stainless steel upside-down funnel that houses several kilns and guest glass blowers. Well worth a visit if you love glass works. Kati was in 7^th heaven.

·        The Union Station is now the federal court house that retains much of the old train station’s architecture and interiors. The Museum of Washington History next door replicates much of the station’s design, making the two buildings a dramatic pair.

·        The people in Tacoma are friendly; the tow truck drivers we met smiled as they hauled away our ancient Saturn. Our poor tow finally bit the dust, but a new radiator may give her a few more years.  Tacoma’s traffic is wild—like so many of today’s cities built around rivers, train tracks and industrial ports—so pulling Minnie (the Saturn) out of bumper-to-bumper traffic was oh so much fun. We’re going to tow her home as it would be cruel to abandon her in the junk yard. Instead we’re going to sell her along with Maxie—two for the price of one! The radiator shop swears she‘s OK now, but after two tows in 24 hours we are a bit skeptical.

·        The Majestic Mobile Home RV Park (which is actually in Puyallup) is not even close to majestic. Probably the worst we’ve ever encountered in 12 years of RVing. But the squalor makes us appreciate all the great places we’ve stayed.

Alan’s superb piloting got us around Seattle and up here just shy of Canada. Here are some things you need to know about Bellingham:

·        The Enterprise rental car folks at the airport are kind to strangers. Gave us a good price on a mini-van with a remote key that opens the sliding back doors. Perfect for two border collies who each have their own seat. Miss Bossypants, aka Beau, goes back to the 3^rd row and sits there like the queen she thinks she is.



Sabine, Eric, Tanya, Carmen with Grandma Diana,
Great Aunt Kati and Grandpa Tim

 ·        Ruff Day doggie day care is out of business. Hard to imagine when the industry is booming. Petsmart in Tacoma had a great doggie hotel and day play set up that Petco needs to adopt. But Pooch Palace in Ferndale has a friendly collection of canines who welcomed our guys with glee.

·        My brother’s son Eric, his wife Tanya and their two gorgeous daughters (Carmen, 9 mos. and Sabine, 2 ½) are visiting Tim and Diana. So cute, so much energy.

·        Bellingham’s sunsets are spectacular, as are the trees, the views of Mt. Baker, the parks, and, for now, the weather. We have been blessed throughout the trip with sunny, warm days and cool nights. Today, it appears, this is changing. Coastal fog that is not burning off, and a forecast for rain on the weekend. Nothing lasts forever. 

·        Vancouver, British Columbia, is just 45 miles away. Actually, there are so many Canadians shopping in Bellingham that you might think you were already across the border. We drove up and headed straight for the Bill Reid Museum featuring the wonderful work of Haida artists including Reid. We first saw his work at the Canada National Gallery in Ottawa about 11 years ago. In addition to producing beautiful jewelry and sculptures, he mentored many young Haida artists who were interested in working with Haida legends and designs. Check out his work at www.billreidgallery.ca.  Traffic in Vancouver was much like that of any big city—kind of exciting after life in the country. And we noticed how much the city felt like Canada: distinct architecture, inflections, metric signs (forgot what a kilometer is) and those big flags with a maple leaf front and center.

·        Bellingham’s Fairhaven community is full of excellent galleries, a tea shop, book store, restaurants, and a host of inviting shops. Kati wants to return there before we leave; the Northwest Indian art is calling her name.

·        Dropped by the Friends of the Lynden Library annual book sale so Kati could see how another friends group puts on its sales. Lynden is a small town built by Dutch immigrants, and its architecture reminded us of Holland—and Washington Irving’s home in New York.

·        Kati spent a day with Tim and Diana touring artist’s studios in Bellingham. There is a flourishing art community there, maybe in part because of the town’s Western Washington University excellent art program, maybe in part just because it’s a lovely area that nurtures creativity.

We’ve been on the road almost a month. Clearly it’s time to come home. There’s nothing like four weeks of life in a narrow 33-feet long bus to make one homesick. We’ll head out soon and hope to be snug at home by the 20^th.  Retrieving the toad will be another adventure in urban chaos, but we have survived it before.

A week later we are home. Seems many RV parks that promise WiFi fall short on that promise, so we couldn’t post this. Alan is studying for his Greyhound driver’s license; he got us home in short order despite heavy rain, stiff winds that tried to throw Maxie off the road, and endless road construction. We managed to swing by Tacoma and hook up the Saturn, pedal around Seattle, and glide down I-5.

Didn’t someone once say, “There’s no place like home?” Got that straight.

Hope you’ve enjoyed the trip. We sure did.

 

Heading up the Oregon coast

Since last heard from, our intrepid duo plus 2 have savored the Oregon coast. Oregon state parks trump any other state’s parks we’ve seen—and we’ve been in almost every state. We loved Harris Beach outside Brookings: gorgeous beach and campgrounds where every site is the best. Oregon mixes uses—RV, tent, trailer—with great success. And the showers are free!



We love parking under tall trees and listening to surf pound just over the hill. Bullards Beach near Bandon was cool. Kati is conducting a taste test of fish and chips; so far the calamari at The Happy Clam in Brookings tops the list, but the snapper in Bandon was pretty good. Alan, on the other hand, is checking out the crab cakes.

We spent two days shopping, eating and gallivanting around Florence with our friends from Sacramento, Christine May (a former colleague of Kati’s at Department of Corrections and now a FEMA reservist) and Carol. They took us everywhere, including a fun lunch at the Florence Senior Center.  

Tillamook’s Blue Heron is as much fun as ever. Good lunch, lots of browsing, outdoor picnic tables. Beau spent her time there trying to stare down the roving chickens. And the wine called Alan’s name. So many wineries, so little time…



After that, we drove south and hiked up to Munson Falls, highest falls on the northwest coast. Nice hike, impressive big spruces, fewer bad drivers on the one-lane road. (The dune buggy people have started arriving and they are noticeable on Hwy. 101.)

It wouldn’t be right to ignore the road from Florence to Tillamook—it is gorgeous, windy and windey, steep, narrow, and terrifying in a big RV. Since Kati’s arthritis won’t let her take Maxie’s wheel anymore, she braves the passenger seat and is still working on terror management. Alan is patient as always and has not hit anything yet.

Beau is practicing her agility training at every opportunity; logs seem to work well for this skill. Lance just ambles along, perking up when he sees other dogs. We met four other Border Collies in Bandon—everyone, especially the owners, agreed they are a superior breed.

We move on to Astoria tomorrow and our favorite smoked fish joint anywhere along the coast. Kati is already salivating for the smoked salmon and albacore. We’ll let you know how it is. People in these parts are far nicer than they need to be – maybe it’s the dogs.





On The Road Again. September 18, 2012

Wow. It’s Tuesday already. We’ve been on the road since Thursday—and we’ve made it all the way to Crescent City. But what can you expect from an old RV, a beater toad (that’s the elderly Saturn that we tow), one almost-13 nearly blind dog, one feisty border collie, and two young-at-heart but clearly age-challenged folks who are determined to see the world. Well, maybe just the US northwest.

We’re staying at an RV park outside CC, just across the street from Jedediah Smith State Park. We’re here, not there, so we have hook-ups. In RV parlance that means we have running water, electricity, and sewer. Of course tenters scorn these amenities; I remember thinking all those RV people were missing out on all the fun. Trust me, we’re not. We are comfy, warm, semi-clean (depends on the day), well-fed, and enjoying life on the road. The bed is much easier to get in and out of when your bones creak from arthritis. No TV since we left, but WiFi lets us keep up with Romney’s latest gaffe (sorry, dear Republican friends, but we can’t help it). We’ve also checked out the restaurants in Crescent City and found one folks highly recommend. The Vita Cucina lives up to its reputation – Kati had a muffaletta sandwich, Alan a pulled pork with coleslaw. If not the food of the gods, it’s certainly good enough for us. Give it a try if you ever brave Hwy 101 north of Eureka –it’s in an obscure corner but any local can tell you where it is.

But one does have to be careful. The KOA outside Cloverdale is pegged as a “Resort.” It should say resort for kids, bikes, beer and outdoor movies. It would have been great when our kids were small; not so much now. Guess we’ve evolved into geezers. On the other hand, the kids love to pet Lance and Beau—and who can argue with that. On the third hand, the price – oy.

The dogs are good travelers although Lance wants to stand up front between us and direct us to the nearest tree. We have barely missed several trees but it’s not his fault. Beau just curls up on the couch and sleeps.

Next stop: Harris Beach State Park in Brookings, OR. Got reservations (it’s a very popular place) and will breathe in the salt air for a few days. Dogs will love it.

Gas is outrageous, but we don’t mind. It’s just part of the equation for life on the road. It’s tricky to find a gas station where we can pull in without unhooking Minnie (the toad). Found a cute little one-pump in Miranda, off the beaten path in the Redwoods, and were reminded how much our highways have improved. Since the gas gauge was hovering on the red, finding the station was a gift from whoever looks after ancient travelers. Alan drives, Kati navigates and warns him of upcoming hazards: “Oh, no, look out, no shoulder, better check your speed, that sign says slow down, did you see that guy was way over the line.” Very helpful stuff—or at least she thinks so. But true love trumps backseat driving—and we always try to laugh.

Our first night out we stopped at Marina Cove RV park in Rio Vista, about 12 feet from the river, watching the light change as the sun went down and the wind came up. Lovely delta breeze after a hot day of slogging along Hwys. 88 and 12 to get there.

A couple of nights in Richardson Grove until our holding tanks were filling up and the batteries running down. Wonderful place, but Cal really should retrofit some parks for people who aren’t sleeping on the ground.

Lots of nice people along the way, and so far no one has given us grief about being stacked up behind a slow-moving rig on a backwoods uphill road.

We are fortunate, aren’t we, to live in such a varied, beautiful place. More yet to come……we’ve only started.