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.