Friday August 19: I go for a walk along the lake first thing this morning, not as far as yesterday, but with more excursions down to the water’s edge.
Excursion to the water’s edge
Sitting on a rock
I sit on a rock, desiring to do a “lake meditation,” but am too easily distracted by sounds: birds, boats, whatever. Playing cello and reading Alex’s book are the main focus of my day. Very noisy here today: ski jets on the lake, a chainsaw, a dirt-blower (like a snow-blower) used by our fastidious host to clean around the campground, excited kids, crying babies, whining dogs. It’s almost as bad as being in town.
Saturday August 20: I am up at 6:00 a.m., in time for the sunrise.
Sunrise at Priest Lake
Since it is a cool 45 degrees out, I decide to have a campfire this morning. I use a couple pieces of the firewood I brought, but mostly gather twigs and small branches from around the campsite. Make a cup of yerba matte and sit by the fire to write in my journal. Nice and quiet this time of the day.
Campfire with yerba matte and journal
Later, as I’m playing the cello, a couple of girls are curious enough to engage in conversation and I talk them into coming over and trying out the cello. That was fun for them and for me. In the afternoon, Clifford and I walk along the lake trail past Osprey, the next campground up the road. I’m going to explore it a bit more another day.
Walking the trail to Osprey with Clifford
Sunday August 21: Another cool morning and I make a campfire with wood I gathered on our walk yesterday. I try the technique for quieting the mind, per Alex’s book, but too many distractions: Mel stopping by, Clifford getting up, the fire needing tending, and so on. Today is a quieter day, as many campers leave fairly early. I finish the book, briefly check email on the tablet, and have just enough power on the laptop to edit one chapter for the Montana author whose book I have been editing. Power has been inadequate here due to lots of trees and not much sunshine on the solar panels; we are grateful for the shade, which has kept us comfortable, but not being able to use my laptop puts a crimp in my editing and blogging. Glad I have the cello and play it a couple of times today.
Walking the trail to Osprey
In the afternoon, I walk along the lake trail to Osprey by myself and walk around its long loop, checking out possibilities for next year. After dinner, Clifford and I sit outside, as the temperature is quite mild, but it is past my bedtime, so I soon head to bed.
Monday August 22: In the night last night, my tooth problem flared up, which is not a good thing, but an ibuprofin helped. Today, since we are going to town, there is no time for a campfire, so I stay warm and cozy in bed until Clifford is ready to get up. Then we head off to Priest River, about a 25 mile drive, to mail some government forms that we finished filling out over the weekend. We get all the way there before I discover that the papers to be mailed at still at camp. I am super annoyed at the waste of time and gas to drive down here, but we make the best of it by going on to Newport and getting groceries at the Safeway there. We check out a couple of small campgrounds on our way back to Outlet Bay, including one near the little village of Coolin on the SE shore of Priest Lake.
View of Priest Lake from Coolin
Even though we still have papers to mail, we have a nice little outing.
Our trip to Priest Lake in northwest Idaho begins with internet research to find out where the forest service camps are located, followed by a couple of phone calls. Seems that more and more campgrounds require reservation, which is a drag for those of us who come and go depending on weather, health, and finances. I settle on the campground at Outlet Bay after a call to the camp host: other campgrounds either have no water, are over-crowded, or too far north for us.
Wednesday – August 17: Almost everything was packed yesterday, so this morning is just watering the little garden and the houseplants and getting the cold food into a cooler. Even so, we get a later start than hoped for, and almost as soon as we leave Wallace, we run into road construction, which further slows us down.
We make brief stops in Coeur d Alene for gas, propane, and a few groceries before we head north to Newport, WA. We encounter road construction much of the way, chatting with a flagger for several minutes at one stop. At Newport, we head east on highway 2 to the small town of Priest River and then north again, on highway 57. Finally we arrive at Outlet Campground, later in the afternoon than we had planned, but luckily several of the first-come sites are still available and we pick the one that suits us best.
Glimmers of Priest Lake
All the sites along the lake are reservation-only, but from our site, we can see little glimmers of the lake through the trees. Our site is roomy, though not as far off the road as I like. We are surrounded by cedars, Douglas fir, and a variety of shrubs, offering a fair amount of privacy. It takes us awhile to get set up because the parking pad is not level. Once things are in place inside and out, Clifford takes a nap while I walk down to Priest Lake, admiring its clear blue expanse of water.
Clear blue expanse of water
When it cools off, I take the cello out and play for awhile. Figure since I’ve hauled it all the way up here, I’d better make use of it! Once Clifford wakes up, we have nachos for a late dinner. Before heading to bed, we admire the reflection of the rising moon on the lake, happy to be out of town.
Moon rising over Priest Lake
Thursday August 18: First thing this morning, I go for a walk on the trail along the lake shore that I noticed yesterday. The trail goes right next to the lake-side campsites, but once I am past the campground, the trail is pretty with some autumn colors and views of lake through the trees.
Autumn colors at Priest Lake
The Lakeshore Trail at Priest Lake
Back at camp, I talk to Mel, the 83-year-old camp host making his rounds, then make tea and write in my journal. After breakfast, I take out the cello and serenade the lake and the trees.
In the afternoon, I begin reading the manuscript of a book written by very special and interesting friends of ours, Alex & Ardeth Merklinger. I have to read on Clifford’s tablet, which is not the easiest way to read a book, but that is what I have. Later on, a strong wind comes up very suddenly and the calm lake is now white-capped with hefty waves rolling into the shore. Quite exciting, really.
Waves come rolling in
White caps on Priest Lake
We have chicken ‘n rice and veges for a tasty dinner. After clean-up, I take a shower before heading to bed, washing off the warmth of the day and the dust of the trail.
November 12, 2015 to May 7, 2016: One week short of six months, over 4000 miles, and hundreds of photos later, we have returned to Wallace, Idaho. It was a memorable six months, not only because we traveled so far, but for all the places we saw, the places we camped, people we met – family, old friends, new friends, and angels in disguise.
Terry at Sunrise in the Sonoran Desert National Monument, Arizona – our furthest campsite from Wallace, Idaho
I took photos every day, sometimes only a couple, but most days lots of photos; almost every day I posted a journey post on FB with photos, sharing the journey with all who cared to join us in this way. I hardly ever missed a day in spite of power and internet restrictions that accompanied us most of the time. I suppose it would have a more relaxed trip had I not set this as a goal for myself, but seeing the world – what is most beautiful or most meaningful – is what I do. Seeing a beautiful sunset or morning light on a mountainside or hoarfrost on pines is not just a neat experience for me alone; it is an experience that demands to be shared.
Sunset at City of Rocks State Park, New Mexico – an Experience that demands to be shared
Clifford studied, researched, or worked on research papers every day that we were not actually traveling. He acquired sophisticated portable scientific instruments to compliment the portable lab. His dedication to his work did not waver, even given the limited space he had to work in.
Once we returned home, I saw that for many people the last six months were same-o-same-o, little ups and downs, nothing really different, nothing outstanding. For me, the last six months were filled with ups and downs, also, but they were Big ups and downs, events and experiences that gave depth and quality to my life. I am enriched by having done this journey, not knowing from one short time period to the next what we might encounter: beautiful weather – or snow and cold; great photo opps camping and hiking – or only a few shots through the tinted window of a moving vehicle; being well – or not being well and having to deal with it; spending days and days with no one but Clifford – or meeting people: some just passing through and some whose lives will intermingle with mine onward; beautiful camping spots where I’d love to stay forever – or a Walmart parking lot where I have to pick up trash just to be okay with being there. It wasn’t always an easy journey for me, but it was a good one. Living in an 8 x 16 foot space with someone day-in and day-out means some compromises, but it also makes me much more appreciative of what’s comfortable and convenient, and more accepting of what’s not. Things are less about good or bad, like or don’t like, and much more about It Is What It Is, and being grateful to be a part of the process. Of course, for a very long time I’ve had the intellectual understanding of the importance of being appreciative and accepting, but now it is a deeper part of my being; it is not so much something that I have to work at as something that I am: Happy for No Reason – not all the time every day, but on a more on-going basis than I’ve experienced before.
Things that stand out:
Snowy as we leave Idaho with Blazer and Pony (our small pop-up), our departure from Belgrade, Montana is delayed by several hours due to snow, more snow changes our itinerary by time we reach Wyoming.
Postcard pretty, snow in Belgrade delays our departure after visiting son Tye and his lovely family.
Crossing eastern Montana, snow forces us to change our itinerary.
Mid-Wyoming snow storm and cold temps at Glendo State Park provide photo opportunities that are exciting for me, but also contribute to both of us becoming sick. Clifford recovers in a few days; it is weeks before I fully recover. Daughter Becka and a friend from Santa Fe provide warm dry lodging when I needed it the most. Thanks!!
Snow storm in Wyoming with Pony (our pop-up tent trailer)
Hoarfrost on PInes
Heading south: several inches of snow at Three Rivers campground north of Tularosa, New Mexico, but it is great being here until Goliath (the news-worthy blizzard on December 26th) comes raging through, nearly wiping us out.
Sunset on the Sacramento Mountains
Sunset on the Sacramento Mountains
Goliath Approaches
A day later, Goliath begins to abate and we are still in one piece, more-or-less.
Goliath has gone, leaving both destruction and beauty in its wake.
The search begins for a hard-shell RV, not an easy task given our restrictions. We go all the way to Phoenix, Arizona, to get Terry, an older, but sturdy RV that falls within our budget, weight limit, and floor plan. We narrowly escape a near-disasterous incident before we even get out of Phoenix, but back at Colossal Cave outside of Tucson where we are camped, we set up home in Terry and sell our much-loved Pony.
Terry: a 19-foot older RV is a great find.
Desert camping: Colossal Cave, Arizona – having been here before, we knew we liked it.
Arroyo at Colossal Cave running with rain water
Special treat while at Colossal Cave: visit from Katie and her kids
Campsite at Colossal Cave surrounded by saguaros
The Sonoran Desert National Monument southwest of Phoenix looks bare and desolate as we approach, but I fall in love with it: two weeks of solitude with long walks and campfires to warm the chill morning air.
Falling in love with the Sonoran Desert National Monument
Campfire in the Desert
Rock mosaic made from Sonoran Desert rocks gathered on daily walks
Sunset in the Sonoran Desert National Monument
The Carnicom Brothers Reunion in Tucson, Arizona.
Cochise Stronghold, another place I fall in love with, as well as feeling a special connection to this rock mountain. I become friends with the camp host and others with whom we stay in touch.
Morning Light at Cochise Stronghold in the Dragoon Mountains of Arizona
Sotol in the Dragoon Mountains
Hiking in the Dragoon Mountains
City of Rocks State Park, New Mexico – what a really cool place to camp for two week. While there, I meet a woman who has become a special friend – I expect we will meet again on the road.
Cook’s Peak from City of Rocks at Sunrise
Sunrise at City of Rock, New Mexico
The Moon Setting at Sunrise in City of Rocks
Blazer and Terry – Camping at City of Rocks
Great Horned Owls at City of Rocks at Sunset
Leaving Arizona, Percha Dam State Park, New Mexico, is the first campground where we have plugged into electricity. We catch up on projects that need power and internet.
The once powerful Rio Grande is but a shadow of its former self – Percha Dam State Park
The mesa on the far side of the Rio Grande, seen from Percha Dam State Park at sunset.
The journey northward begins: Camping at Cochiti Lake, New Mexico, waiting for better weather around Santa Fe, and hiking in nearby Kasha-Katuwe Tent Rocks National Monument.
Giant Fairyland – my favorite rock formation at Kasha-Katuwe Tent Rocks National Monument
Villanueva State Park east of Santa Fe, New Mexico, bypassing cold weather at Santa Fe, (or so we thought),…..
Pecos River at Villanueva State Park, New Mexico
followed by camping in the mountains north of Santa Fe at Hyde State Park, …..and more snow.
Hyde State Park north of Santa Fe – Snow Photo Opportunities in April
Snow on Aspens at Hyde State Park
I was delighted with the snow; everyone else in the campground seemed to think I was nuts, being all excited about taking photos of snow.
Two weeks at Santa Fe visiting friends and working with our webmaster, Kaylee, to construct a new website for me.
Leaving Santa Fe, we stay at Villanueva again to wait out another snow storm – 20 inches of new snow right where we are headed in Colorado.
Pecos River at Villanueva State Park: New leaves on trees adds color to the scene.
After visiting friends in Colorado, the journey is comprised of one-night stands in Walmart parking lots and rest areas, and brief visits with more friends and family once we reach Montana.
And finally, back to Wallace, Idaho. It is good to be back AND we are already planning our next outing. More adventures await!
Friday May 22: I begin my day at the Pit River campground by doing a few yoga stretches under the great limbs of the oak tree at our campsite.
After breakfast I make a cup of coffee, grab my journal, and head over to the day use area. It is more private there and the picnic tables offer a view of either the river or the lagoon, depending on which table I choose. I write several post cards to family and friends before I write in my journal. So peaceful sitting here, writing and listening to the sounds of the river and the birds.
Journal and coffee by the lagoon
In the afternoon we make a trip to Fall River Mills to the post office to pick up a package sent to us with stuff we left at our friends’ guest house: Clifford’s hotspot, which we need, and our coats left in a closet. Thanks, Kate! Back at camp, Clifford naps while I write and take photos. Rain comes in the afternoon – very welcome in the drought-stricken northwest.
Cumulus growing
We walk down to the river in the early evening, talking about this and that until the sun goes down. Back at camp, we watch a big cumulus cloud grow and move slowly away, to be replaced by a handsome sunset.
Replaced by a handsome sunset
Mist in the trees
Saturday May 23: I am up at 7:00 a.m. and greeted by mist hanging in the trees around the campsite. I hustle on over to the lagoon for photos before the mist fades away. Even though I never once got a photo of mist while in the redwoods or visiting the ocean on this trip, here in the dry northeastern corner of California we have another misty morning. Go figure!
Mist on the Pit River
Today, after breakfast, we go to Burney, a town about 15 miles to the west. We need gas, propane, and water. We also want to get caught up with email, so find a little city park where we can hang out using Clifford’s hotspot. Although email works, I can’t upload photos to wordpress and waste a lot of time trying. Clifford gets some of his things done while we are here, but it isn’t that much fun or productive for me. I will have good internet eventually, but I don’t like wasting my precious time.
Lagoon in the early evening
After dinner I head down to the river and the lagoon before the warm light fades. Clifford was going to go with me, but he is dallying, so I go on by myself. Upon returning to camp, he still wants to go, so we return together, too late for photos, but lovely in the dusk light and nice to have a short outing together. At the camp, every site is over- flowing with cars and people for the Memorial weekend. Not far from us a group plays guitars and sings a lot – nice to see families and friends getting together to do that.
The view from the campsite
Sunday May 24: We are staying at Pit River another day since it may be hard to find a place to camp if we leave today, being Memorial weekend. I spend much of the day organizing and packing, which takes longer than usual since food, utensils, and clothing need to be available for three one-night stops between here and Lee’s Creek in western Montana, where we will be staying longer. For the one night stops, we don’t open the Pony (our pop-up tent trailer) all the way or unpack the tubs that are closely packed on the floor space for traveling. It is not very convenient, but takes a lot less time to set up and take down, since mostly we just need a place to sleep and a couple of meals at each stop.
Wild roses grow near the lagoon
I make my usual trips to visit the lagoon and the Pit River while Clifford studies all day.
In the evening I make a campfire, the only one during our stay here. This has been a good spot for us with the river and the lagoon, trees, shrubs, and flowers, the sky with great clouds, mist, and rain. An oasis of lovely beauty, nourishing for the soul.
Saturday May 9: I wake up in the night thinking about ticks. Hmm… guess I should have taken a shower after our outing to Fern Canyon yesterday, but waking up in the night is not helpful. It is overcast this morning, which is not something we’ve seen much of on this trip, even though I had heard how foggy and overcast it would be on the coast. Well, the weather is not being “normal” anywhere, it seems, so who knows what to expect.
Today we are going to Eureka and Arcata to the south of Prairie Creek where we are camped. After showers and breakfast, we head out, stopping at a rest stop on the way, as I see one of those beautifully blooming bushes that I had never seen before arriving in California.
Rhododendron
I later learn that it is a rhododendron, which I also learn has blossoms similar to azaleas, but the leaves are different. It is a very pretty drive down this curving highway with tall trees frequently obscuring our view of the ocean just to the west of us; lagoons and flowering shrubs add to the beauty of the landscape.
Tall trees obscure the view
North of Arcata we stop at Clam Beach, as this is one of the hang-outs where Clifford lived part-time in his van for seven years while going to school at the College of the Redwoods and Humboldt State University in his late teens and early 20’s. He used to camp in the dunes for free, but now there are a couple fee-campgrounds. We walk out a ways into the vegetation-covered sand dunes so I can see the ocean and take a few photos.
Clam Beach
We drive on through Eureka to Fields Landing, a small poor fishing village where Clifford would also park for free during those van/school years. The dirt lot where he used to park is now a day-use paved parking lot for folks coming in to launch their boats. Seeing these places after 40 years brings back a lot of memories for him. After Fields Landing, we find another spot off the highway near the College of the Redwoods. The dirt road down to the “secret” parking place in a clearing in the woods alongside the highway is now obscured with dense growth, as is the clearing, but he recognizes where it used to be. How things change over time!
At the College of the Redwoods, we walk around admiring the lovely campus: lawns, flowering trees, ponds, foot bridges, and flowers of all sorts grace the grounds around the attractive dorms and classroom buildings here.
Blooming shrubs abound
Delightful shrub
Vivid new leaf growth
What a great place to go to school! We go inside the building that houses the cafeteria where Clifford used to work washing dishes, and he recounts the experience of being there one evening when a friend of a friend streaked through, to the delight of the students who were witness to the event.
Then we head back to Eureka and out to Samoa, a jetty where the Samoa Cookhouse, once used to feed loggers, is now a popular spot for locals and tourists to have a good home-cooked meal served family-style. We sit at a long table covered with a red-and-white-checkered tablecloth. Big bowls of soup and salad and a platter of fresh bread are placed before us. This is followed with platters of potatoes and roast beef and a bowl of gravy. We finish off with a spice cake for dessert. To begin with I was a bit cautious because of my food allergies, but for the most part, everything sets well with my finicky digestive system. We both enjoy the plentiful food and the ambiance of the place, which is also a museum of sorts with photos and paraphernalia of the logging operations in the area, as well as photos of the loggers who used to eat at this very establishment. While it was a great time for the logging industry, photos of old-growth redwoods, with stumps big enough to become small dancing floors, lying dead on the ground are a source of sadness for me. I am so grateful that national and state agencies are now protecting most of the remaining old-growth forests so that I and others and those to come after us have the opportunity to stand in awe under these giants, some of whom are more than 2,000 years old.
After our hearty meal, a quick stop at Wells Fargo and a visit to the library in Eureka to check email, we head north to Arcata to buy a few groceries. Clifford wants to visit the plaza for more old memories and in the process we find a used bookstore. It is perfect for Clifford because of the college text books that he finds there on microbiology and organic chemistry. In a sudden rush of memory, I decide to see if I can find the book “Legacy of Luna” by Julia Butterfly Hill and am pleased that there are several like-new copies at the used book price. I don’t know much of the story of Luna and Julia, but recall that it takes place in the redwoods, or more precisely in a redwood called Luna. Right now is the perfect time for me to read this book. I take my purchase to a chair and begin reading while Clifford continues his search for text books that will aid him in his research.
On the way back to camp we stop to take photos of the elk in the meadow adjacent to the campground. It is getting late and they are already bedded down, but I take a photo, anyway.
When we get back to the Pony (our pop-up tent trailer) my intention is to download photos, but I read instead and continue reading long after Clifford goes to bed. I am quite taken with Julia’s courageous adventure, especially being here surrounded by the magnificent redwoods that she was trying to save.
Friday May 8: When I first get up, I go out and stand by the creek, admiring the sunlight on the grove of alders on the other side and the lovely clear creek flowing just inches from my feet. As I gaze, I see something that I don’t recognize for a moment. First I think it is a small log (floating upstream??) and then I think it is a large strange fish with its back out of water. Then my mind makes the connection that I am seeing an otter, not one, but two of them. I have never seen live otters and my mind just didn’t immediately compute the information being taken in by my eyes – like the Indians who had no experience of ships as Columbus was landing on their shore. And here this pair is, just a few feet from me. They swim to a log that is a short ways upstream and frolic about for a bit before swimming across and out of sight. Boy, did that get my day off to a great start!
Ferns growing along the bank of Prairie Creek
Today is slated for a trip to Fern Canyon. It takes us awhile for the whole breakfast and cleanup routine, and then we are on our way. We stop briefly at the Visitors’ Center at the far end of the campground on our way out of the park. It is an older building, but nice inside with good displays. We travel south on Highway 101 until we reach Davidson Road, where we turn toward the coast. This gravel road is narrow, winding, and steep in spots until we reach Gold Bluff, which gets its name from the color of the cliffs due to specks of gold dust in the soil. There the road levels out and we catch glimpses of the nearby ocean when the trees don’t obscure the view.
Glimpse of the ocean at Gold Bluff
There are wonderful redwoods here, but on the ocean side of the road are at least a couple types of spruce. Some look like blue spruce without the blue – they are full and thick, with a growth pattern that makes them look like large perfect Christmas trees. Others are humungus man-eating trees straight out of Brackin (Princes and Priests – 1st Trilogy of the Novels of Shannon by Angela MacDonald – an exciting read which can be found on WordPress).
At the trail head, we park and hike to the canyon. Before we reach the canyon, the landscape is lush with interesting trees that are new to my experience and a variety of ferns and other vegetation.
Trees new to me
Heading toward Fern Canyon
Ferns along the way
The 50-foot walls of the canyon are steep-sided and covered with ferns, hence the name.
Fern Canyon
Fern Canyon
Clifford in Fern Canyon
We walk the narrow canyon floor where more ferns grow amidst fallen trees, while the creek meanders about in such a way that it is almost impossible to continue deeper into the canyon without wading.
The creek meanders through the canyon
Some people avoid wading by crossing the creek on slippery-looking deadfall, but I don’t trust the deadfall crossings and don’t want to risk falling with my cameras. I am careful to avoid wading the creek as much as possible at first, but finally I just give into the fact that I am soaking my hiking shoes; might as well just enjoy the experience.
Fern Canyon
Wet feet, but enjoying Fern Canyon
Eventually we arrive at a spot in the canyon where the deadfall is so dense with huge old trees tumbled together like super-huge, gigantic pick-up-sticks that we are forced to turn back.
Super giant pick-up sticks block the way
Since it is sunny, bright splotches of sunlight reaching into the canyon make it difficult to take decently exposed photos, but I take lots of photos anyway.
Sunlight in the trees
Back at the trailhead, we take our picnic lunch to one of the nearly-ancient picnic tables and spread out our fare. Crows soon join us, coming as close as they dare, perching on nearby trees and rocks. They are quite bold as they wait for us to leave so they can clean up our crumbs. It was quite fun to see them.
A visitor waits for our crumbs
On the way back out, we stop at Gold Bluff so I can walk out to the ocean to take photos. People are sitting in their lawn chairs on the expanse of sand, reading or snoozing as the waves come circling around their feet. If I was camped here, I would do the same thing, but this is not a road that can be traversed with the Pony (our pop-up tent trailer).
The Pacific Ocean at Gold Bluff
Sitting on the beach
Patterns created by ocean and sand
Back at camp, besides the dinner routine, I finish the blog I’m working on and fuss with the sheets, trying to get them rearranged and tucked in better so they will stay put. Note to self: make sure you pack the right sheets next time. But it is easy to overlook the sheet issues when we are camped at such a great place and able to go on lovely interesting outings. I really do love northern California!
Wednesday May 6: Today we start packing as soon as we are up, as we are headed south from our campground at Panther Flat to Prairie Creek Redwood State Park. We say good bye to our host, Jeff, and his wife, JoAn. They have been especially friendly and helpful. I say good-bye, also, to the trees and shrubs at Panther Flat and to the Smith River, which has beguiled me with its beauty.
We enjoy a beautiful winding-road drive with occasional glimpses of the ocean until we reach Elk Prairie Campground.
Winding road with occasional glimpses of the ocean
Quite a beautiful place: old-growth redwoods, Douglas fir, a few western hemlock, and Sitka spruce stand tall and majestic. Big-leaf maple also tower above the puny humans camped beneath their boughs.
Big leave maples tower over the humans camped below
A variety of shorter trees, shrubs, ferns and grasses make this forest more like a jungle where there are no trails. Prairie Creek runs through the campground.
Prairie Creek runs through the campground
Alongside the campground is a large meadow where the Roosevelt elk graze and bed down, giving the campground its name.
Elk Prairie Meadows
Now to find the right spot. I want to be by the creek and there are very few campsites that have a view of the creek. Clifford wants sun so the solar panels can charge the battery. We compromise on a beautiful spot that is right on the creek, but too small to fit comfortably.
A beautiful spot right on the creek
In spite of the “help” from the camp hosts, Clifford gets the Pony (pop-up tent trailer) angled in so that the door faces the creek and we are off the road. It takes a bit more work to get leveled and set-up, but in the end it is worth it, as we have a private spot by the clear water of Prairie Creek, surrounded by amazing trees, and sunlight on the panels.
Challenging to get parked and leveled, but worth it
“Go With the Flow” was the suggestion from the Sacred Geometry cards before this road trip began, and that has become my mantra. Sometimes it has been a challenge to keep it in the forefront of my mind, but certainly helpful today as we found our spot and got set up. So many times on this road trip “Go With the Flow” has kept me from becoming upset and anxious. Of course, I have heard this and versions of it most of my life, but implementing it on a day-by-day basis is the real trick to having it make a difference.
In the early evening we walk the path through the woods to the Visitors’ Center at the other end of the campground. The trees are a constant wonderment.
Evening walk to the Visitors’ Center
It is nearly dark and getting chilly by time we get back to our camp. We sit outside to look at the stars and listen to the creek. Feels like it will be cooler tonight. What a wonderful place to spend the next few days!!!
Thursday May 7: It was 37 degrees last night, a good excuse to make a campfire this morning. I have a cup of organic French press coffee as I write in my journal. I admire the morning light on the creek in front of me and the alder grove on across the creek. Sunlight filters through the tall trees of the camp, and the sky is a beautiful blue – so great to see.
Morning light on Prairie Creek
Standing beside Prairie Creek
Beautiful blue sky day
After breakfast we head to Orick, the nearest town to our campground, so we can check our email and phone messages. Then we drive out to the Visitors’ Center to see what books they carry, get information about camping further south, buy a couple post cards to send to family and friends, and get quarters for the showers at the campground. We walk out to the ocean shore, but the sandy beach doesn’t offer many photo opps, especially with the wind blowing so hard that I fear for the safety of my camera lens.
Back in Orick we buy gas at the only gas pump in town, a 40-year-old relic that still works. Then we drive out to the Lady Bird Johnson grove and do a walkabout. This old-growth forest of redwoods and Douglas fir was dedicated in 1968 to Lady Bird Johnson for her efforts to preserve the natural beauty of this country. A brochure that we pick up at the beginning of the trail describes the environment , the history of the area, as well as information about the life cycles of the plants and trees that grow here, including the hardiness of the redwoods. It is obvious that the old growth trees have all survived a forest fire, as they are all blackened and wounded, but they still live. In some cases, the lower portions of their great cores are burned out, creating caves so large enough that a person could set up house in them, kind of hobbit-like.
Inside a redwood, looking out
Blackened by fire
At the foot of a redwood
On the way back to camp, we stop to look at a herd of Roosevelt elk, but they are not in a posing mode. However, it is still fun to see them and be glad that they are thriving after nearing extinction.
Roosevelt Elk thriving in California
Clifford takes a nap after a late lunch while I make another campfire, a must if I am to sit outside in the chilly afternoon, and write in the journal. Personally, I prefer this cool weather and am grateful not to have to cope with the heat. Just before we left Idaho, I overheard someone saying that it was over 100 degrees in California, so I took some of my cool-weather clothes out of my duffle bag and replaced them with warm-weather clothes…. Well, so far, I would have been better off to have left things as they were, but next time I will inquire what part of California is hot, as the northern coast certainly is not. Except for the extreme wind right off the ocean, I am liking the weather here. So glad to be here with the cool breeze, and where I am surrounded by and can walk amongst wondrously tall trees. I am loving northern California!
Ocean, rocks, ice plants – photo taken at Battery Point Lighthouse
Saturday May 2:This morning, after my campfire, coffee, and journal, Jeff, our camp host extraordinaire, comes by to show us the secret path to the local Darlingtonias. Jeff is a natural when it comes to being a tour guide and he makes this outing into an adventure. Clifford, Nigel, and I follow him through the woods to find the community of California Pitcher Plants. He even points out angles where we can take the best photos to include ferns for a more dramatic setting.
Darlingtonia, also known as California Pitcher Plant – a rare species of swamp dweller.
As I take photos of the irresistible wild iris on the way back to the campground, we learn more from Jeff, who has a wealth of knowledge of the history and geography of this area.
Irresistible wild iris.
Clifford and I are going to the Battery Point Lighthouse today, so we head to Crescent City after our woods adventure. This lighthouse, built in 1856, served an invaluable purpose for over a hundred years, alerting ships to the rocky coast until it was decommissioned in 1965.
Shoreline at Battery Point Lighthouse
Battery Point Light House
Nowadays digital instruments have taken over the job of most lighthouses, which are now closed down, but Battery Point was reactivated in 1982 as a private aid to navigation and has been converted into a museum. The tour is very interesting as we learn of the early lighthouse keepers and see some of the original furnishings of this building, which was also home to the lighthouse keepers and their families.
Landscaping at the Battery Point Lighthouse
View from the lighthouse tower
Our tour takes us all the way to the top, where we go carefully up a narrow winding staircase to the lighthouse tower with a 360 degree view of the surroundings.
To the east is the town of Crescent City; looking out another direction we can see the harbor where ships can safely come into port, and along the coast the other direction and toward the ocean, we see the great rocks that were (and are) such a danger to ships.
Danger to ships
On the drive home we take Howland Hill Road recommended by Jeff, since this dirt/gravel road traverses the jointly shared Redwood National Park and the Jedediah Smith Redwood State Park. The redwood trees are totally awesome, but it is too late in the day to stop for many photos.
Forest giants
Up and up and up
We will be seeing other redwoods before the journey’s end, so I enjoy the drive, window down, exclaiming over the size of these giants as we drive through the forest.
Sunday May 3: Today is a stay-at-camp day. I go for a walk in the woods to take more photos of the Darlingtonias and, of course, the lovely wild iris and the rhododendron (or is it azalea?) before making a campfire and a French press.
Nigel, the young man on his spring break from college, comes by and we chat for a bit. After breakfast, while wood-gleaning I stop at the host site to say “hi” to Jeff and his wife, JoAn. Since we have power (sun on the solar panels) today, I am able to download and look at the photos I have taken over the last several days. And since my cell phone works here at Panther Flat, I call my daughter, Becka, who is moving to Georgia, and check email on the phone. We take showers and are feeling quite spiffy and civilized.
A hike down to visit the river rounds out the day for us.
Rapids on the Smith River
Peaceful flow of the Smith River below the rapids
Monday May 4:It is cloudy this morning, so we sleep in a bit. I skip my flower-photo walkabout and make a campfire right away so as to have some quiet time before starting breakfast.
Warm coals on my next-to-last campfire at Panther Flat
Today is another stay-at-camp day, which is fine with me, as it gives the vata nature a chance to settle before we start on the next long leg of our journey.
I have been collecting postcards as we travel, so have a stack to write and send to family and friends.
While I write, Clifford continues his research. How many people go camping with three tubs of technical books such microbiology and spectroscopy? Well, Clifford does and as he studies he takes notes, filling several spiral notebooks. This is all in connection to the Carnicom Institute, his health and environmental research non-profit organization.
In the afternoon, as the skies clear, I walk down to the river. It is now too sunny for much photo-taking, but I take time to sit on a boulder by the river, glad to be alive, glad to be here.
Glad to be here; glad to be alive
Tuesday May 5: It is 40 degrees and clear this morning, a bit chilly, but so lovely. I love being here and am a bit sad that today is our last day camped here at Panther Flat. I make a campfire, enjoy my coffee, take a few photos with the cell phone to share this place with others, and admire the trees. At the Rocky Mountain Summer Intensive Photography School that I attended in 1995, one of the suggestions was to take a photo of what makes you happy: that day I photographed the silhouette of tree branches against a beautiful blue sky, and I do so again today.
What makes me happy
We are going to Crescent City today in preparation for leaving tomorrow. It is better to take care of errands today and focus on the traveling tomorrow. After getting propane, gas, groceries, and sundries, we drive out to Pebble Beach on the outskirts of town. Pebble beach is not exactly pebbles and is so windy I can’t stand still enough to take photos except by shooting through the open window of the Blazer. However, it is still mesmerizing – the waves coming in and smashing themselves against the jagged rocks, over and over and over. It seems as though they delight in their powerful playfulness.
The waves seem to delight in smashing against rocks
Over and over and over – the mesmerizing action of waves
Back at camp, even though it is getting kind of late, I call my mom. Today would have been my parents’ 70th anniversary, although my dad has been gone for nearly twenty years. I am so grateful that my mom is still here and part of the lives of her children, grand and great-grandchildren. What a blessing she is to all of us. May I be such a blessing to all those who know me and those who come after me.
Friday May 1: I begin the day with a campfire, a cup of coffee, and journal writing.This is my precious QT – quiet time – a time before talking begins, a time of being before doing takes over for the day.
A time of being before doing
It is windy this morning and as I sit by the fire (well-contained in deep metal firepits), I gaze up at the tall Douglas fir and youngish redwoods as they do their slow graceful dance to the wind-music. As I walk about the camp, the iris are are also doing their little dances, which makes it challenging to take their portraits.
After breakfast, we drive up the highway to the Darlingtonia Interpretive Trail which we know about from Jeff, the camp host, who gave us the flyer as well as the insider information that these rare plants can also be found not far from the campground. Maybe I will be able to find the local ones, but in the meantime, the botanical area will be a good outing for us. Jeff shows me an unusual plant right at their site. Perhaps related to a mushroom, this plant was about six to seven inches tall and not like anything I’ve ever seen before.
Most unusual plant
We park at the trail head and walk a short ways to a swampy area where hundreds of these ancient-looking plants, also known as California Pitcher Plants, grow en masse. They remind me of giant Venus fly-traps – the neat little plants that I would buy as a kid, even though they never seemed to catch a fly and didn’t survive for long. The head of a Darlingtonia is designed to trap insects; decayed remains of the insect provides nourishment to the plant.
A swampy meadow of Darlingonians
It is easy to imagine a swamp dinosaur browsing here. The Darlingtonias are not at the height of their blossom period, but we do see a few blossoms here and there.
We continue the walk learning of other flowers and trees in this area, including Port Oxford Cedar, Jeffrey Pine, orchids, azaleas, and several other flowers and shrubs. The Darlingtonians are thriving here, but are quite rare. I have to wonder how long these swamp-loving plants will survive the California drought.
When we get back to the campground, I go off to gather twigs for tomorrow’s fire and when I get back to our campsite, Nigel, the young man who is camped down a couple spots from us, is talking with Cllifford. He is an interesting fellow, having some of the same interests as we do, such as camping and photography, and going to school not far from where one of Clifford’s brothers live. We chat for a bit before Clifford and I head down to the river.
Today we are going swimming at the beach that we found the first day. What this means is that Clifford is going swimming while I take photos and wade in the shallow water at the river’s bank.
Swimming in the Smith
Although I find the water too cold to be comfortable, Clifford cajoles me into getting in deeper. It is a a refreshing but short-lived moment. This afternoon the river seems especially rich in color, that delicious shade of aqua, and crystal clear as always.
As we look at the map and review our travel schedule, we decide to not go to Yosemite as planned, but instead go east and north from Sebastopol. The timing as well as the expense of traveling are the deciding factors. We will be staying with friends in Sebastopol in connection with the Institute, so that is an important portion of the journey, but also a good turning point. I am disappointed that we won’t see Yosemite on this journey, but understand the need to make this change in plans. I am still looking forward to the giant redwoods and seeing the ocean, however.
We finish our day with nachos and more crossword puzzles. One of these days I am going to switch to photo editing during dinner instead of the puzzles, but not today.
Thursday April 30: We are up before 8:00 this morning. The odd thing is that I seldom know what time it is, what time we get up, what time we eat, or what time we go to bed. This morning, after a short walkabout to visit flower-friends, I make a campfire, not really because it is cold enough to need it, but because I enjoy it.
My friends Ken and Shelley Anne who have been so supportive over the preceding challenging months are on my mind. I give them a call, thinking I will get voice mail and am pleased to talk to Shelley Anne in person for a few minutes.
Once the coastal redwoods covered 2 million acres of land, mostly in California, but due to logging in the late 1800’s to the 1920’s, only about 100,000 acres of ancient redwood forests remain. Today we drive to Stouts Grove near the beginning of Howland Hill Road (or end, depending on which way one is traveling). This is an old-growth grove in what is now Redwood National Park and Jedediah Smith State Park, a co-operative effort on the part of national and state agencies to preserve what remains of the old-growth forests. What a loss it would be to both the natural world and the civilizations of the world to not have the redwoods. These ancient giants deserve our very best efforts to preserve them for their invaluable role in the ecology of the planet, as well as to inspire all those who gaze upward toward their lofty heights. We today are most fortunate that efforts have been made to preserve these remaining great trees.
Redwoods may reach a height of 370 feet tall and may be as much as 20 feet in diameter. They can live to be 2,000 years old, although many are merely 500 to 700 years old. I am in awe of them as I walk the trail. The tops cannot be seen by looking up; it is like trying to look at a mountain peak when standing at the base of the mountain where one can see only the foothills. Photos do not do justice to their majestic size unless a tiny human is included in the photo.
Notice the tiny human (me) and this is not one of the largest trees that we saw
Notice the really tiny human (Clifford) on the trail
We have learned something of their growth patterns that allows these great trees to survive. Bulbous outgrowths hold the potential to grow new trees out of the old – like a fetus waiting to grow and be born as a baby. Some redwoods grow in a tight cluster from one root system, their strength supporting each other. Thick bark protects them from insect injury and even damage from fire. Many of these old trees, still living, bear the scars of severe forest fires.
Not only are the trees wonderful, but the ferns and shamrocks are lush, adding color and texture to the scene.
Shamrocks grow from the decay of a fallen redwood
Fern and shamrocks growing from a decaying redwood
Back at the campground, I take the trail down to the Smith River and find a place where I can take photos of some of the rapids along this stretch. I am drawn to the beautiful clear aqua water of this lively river.
Lovely color of the Smith River
Rapids on the Smith River
We have nachos for dinner and do crossword puzzles, which are both addictive and annoying. One of these days I am going to not do the crosswords with dinner. But tonight I do crosswords until I can’t stand doing another one. I go to bed thinking not of crosswords, however, but of great tall wonderful trees.
