Day 12: Mosier to Walla Walla, Washington

It was another peaceful night. I got up with the first rays of sunlight and saw the house and yard and all the garden furniture in the yard. The two cats were outside, Copper and Mystery. No sign of life in the house.

I got out of the van to check out on the house. The back door was locked. That is not what I had expected. Did the couple play games with me? I didn't have a sense to rush off, so I went back to relax some more. At 6am I took Sadie out to walk around the village. What a tranquil place this was. It was as if no one was in town at all! Just travelers or people going to work, and they all used the main road, Historic US30.

Jesse came out to walk Twinkie so I got out of the van then. He still looked very hung over. He let me in via the back door so I could shower quickly, being careful not to make any noise. I function so much better when I'm totally clean, and I will never turn down a shower while on the road.

I stayed in my van for another hour, watching as the town slowly came back to life. Crystal finally came out to get her van ready, and I hugged her again for the hospitality. I didn't bother them any further and drove off shortly after 8am, two hours later than normal. By then the main road, Historic US30 and then I-84, were busy. I stayed on I-84 as this road hugged the Columbia river.

The Columbia River takes on a different character east of Hood River. It calms down, the flow is now all coming from the east with no tide pushing up against it as it does west of Hood River. And most noticeably, there are less trees here. The surrounding hills were all dry grasslands. This looked much like the central California hills.

My first stop in the morning was in The Dalles, a small town that offered all the amenities. Again, I ate at McD's, shared a sausage egg McMuffin with Sadie, but also was determined to get her some high-qaulity dog food. She had been looking too thin and I was worried she was not getting enough nutrition on this trip with all the hiking she has done with me. She barely touched her Nutrisca dry kibble. I stopped at a small pet shop and bought a 16-pound roll of a chicken-turkey mix, which I cut up in slices for her every day. She liked this mixture, but I had to keep it in the cooler so that it wouldn't spoil.

I had heard about the wonders of the Dalles but didn't see anything that stood out in this town. It wasn't that big, either, with a listed population of just 13,620. People here were ranchers driving pick-ups, cherry growers selling their Bings, older people living their retirement years, and workers at the nearby grainery off the river. Umatilla was still a bit of a drive and I focused on just moving eastward, along the river. The Lewis and Clark markers seemed to be mostly on the Washington side, which I didn't cross over into. I got a good enough impression of how the L&C team managed along the way.

There was much construction along the interstate on this stretch. I was glad when I could pull over and look at the river. I saw one L&C sign outside Boardman that led to a place near where the team had shored for the night. A big grainery is there now. A couple was playing fetch with their dog (Sadie stayed in the van under a shade tree). The rocky shore was hot, there was trash along the shore, and the place felt abandoned. I didn't stay. Subsequent places along the riverbanks were dirty. I was very disappointed of the area around Boardman-Umatilla. This region was the only place in all my Oregon trips that did not appeal to me.

I wasn't sure where to go from Umatilla. Should I venture south, into Hermiston, and continue on into Pendleton and HElls Canyon? Or drive north into Walla Walla, WA where the L&C team stayed on their return east. (The exact location is north of the town). US12 covers this part of the county.

I stopped in a nice little restaurant-brewpub in Hermaston for a late lunch. I brought in my tablet, my gazetteer and any guides I had to study my next move. I had time, there was no need to hurry, but the heat made me try to avoid any more heat for as long as possible. This part of Oregon felt abandoned by the rest of Oregon. It felt more like Idaho or eastern Montana. It was a cowboy town with electric cars, a redneck town on the edge of progress.

At least the food and beer at Nookie's was very good, and my server Lucas, a blond young man, very attentive. My double cheeseburger was huge, was served like a frog head with olives as eyes, and a knife through its head. Sadie got the two slices of ham, both fried eggs, and half of one patty over the 24 hours we had this burger.

After this meal I promptly headed north on I-82, which crossed the Columbia River into the far southeastern portion of Washington State. This was not the official L&C trail and I turned around at the first interstate exit. Here the land was agricultural rolling hills with green crop circles that stood out from the dry brown grasses around them. Despite the dry grass, this land looked more lush than Oregon across the river. I found out that this part of Washington, and Walla Walla in particular, has a massive underground watershed.

When I turned around and faced the South again, I could still see faint outlines of Mount Hood in the haze. This also meant that this was the final farewell to the lush, green, wet landscape I had been in for four days. I was officially back in the high desert. I didn't want to stay

US730 goes through Umatilla and follows the Columbia river northeast in Oregon before it crosses into Washington. US12 then comes turns off east and heads into Walla Walla. It became lusher and greener, with far more trees than all of Umatilla County. It was as if life was coming back, and I was liking this. I felt an urgency to see this small town, and it did not disappoint. It was late afternoon, and a small farmer's market had opened in a side street off the downtown area, where I met a woman, a retired school teacher my age, whose husband was once the principal for the Pacifoc Grove Elementary School in the 1970s.

Walla Walla has its charm and it worked on me. But Sadie was restless and I asked the retired teacher where a good place to hike nearby was.

"Go to Bellington Lake!" said her friend. The lake was only two miles east of town. I didn't hesitate to try this out, to get some mileage in for both Sadie and me. Bellington Lake is a small reservoir popular with the locals, with a nice network of trails around the lake for walkers, joggers, birders and cyclists. There were many families at this small lake, and I quickly got Sadie on the lake trail to get away from the crowd. I didn't have that much daylight left.

At first the lake didn't seem all that enticing. There were too many people here, and the kids' scream echoed through the trees. But once we got away from the beach, we were all to ourselves. The lake's perimeter was bigger than it seemed! An hour later, with the sun now ready to set and the full moon rising, the wildlife began to come out. One by one the bird calls magnified. It was a chorus of twitters, chirps, gawks and whistles. One Great Horned Owl stood motionless on a dead tree branch above me on my return walk and stared me down. It seemed more curious of Sadie than of me, but even I had a short stare-down with the bird.

The near full moon was now rising behind the hills. What a moment to take in! The sounds of nature and the rising moon...priceless. This little lake is a haven for wildlife. It turned out to be sage advice from the local woman to tell me to come here. Sadie and I got our exercise.

IT was now dark as I returned to Walla Walla. I stopped in a brewpub, but the bartender told me they were closing early tonight due to lack of business. The place had been busier earlier in the evening. The last of the few diehards were still drinking, and I drank two decent beers and left for the van across the street. Tonight's camp-out was in front of the Travel Lodge, right on the main street. No one botheerd us.



MORE TO COME

Day 11: Portland to Mosier, OR

Today proved to be more chaotic than any other day as I actually got little mileage in. Here's how it went:

Lynda and I were both up early so we could walk to the nearby dog park with Gracie and Sadie. She takes Gracie there every morning before she heads to work. The dogs were on leashes until we got there. There were many dogs already running around, chasing balls, sticks or frisbees under the tall pines. I was a bit apprehensive about Sadie being off-leash around these strange dogs, but she did surprisingly well. She stayed near Gracie and followed her around at first, but did learn to trust the other dogs and people.

I honestly didn't want to leave in the morning, but I also didn't want to be any more of a burden on Lynda. She had been such a nice host and we did a lot of talking, about our years in high school together, our failed marriages, our kids. Our sons are both in the early 20s and have never been to Germany before.

I researched places, trail guides and routes as I drank the last of my French press coffee. Then I got an unexpected message via Facebook from another shelter volunteer I once worked with in Bisbee, Lindsey. She is a professional photographer who also does pro bono work for animal shelters. She was in Portland and asked if I could come over for a bit. What was she doing in town? The last I heard of her, she was at Fort Lewis and her husband, an army captain, was deployed to Afghanistan. I took her on the invite and stopped by. Her rented house was not far from Lynda's at all and easily accessible via two major north-south and east-west roads. When I got to Lindsey's house, everyone was at the front table by the main window, finishing a late breakfast. Lindsey's husband Evan greeted me but then quickly left, Lindsey's brother Nathan did the same, but the third man, Steve, who happens to hail from East Chicago, Indiana, started up a nice conversation about animal welfare. I discovered today that Evan is leaving the military and job-searching. That took me by surprise as he only served 6.5 years as a West Point graduate. Some things should not be questioned, and I didn't. I left after two hours and I still had another hour before morning was over.

Why not drive into downtown Portland, I mused, and took that as my own challenge. But I really didn't know where I was going as my GSP seems to only work with an internet connection. The business section of Portland is surrounded by interstate bridges and one-way streets, and another section across the river is even more chaotic with construction and pedestrians too impatient to wait for their turn to cross streets. Portland is a very bike and pedestrian-friendly town, and this morning I felt that their rights trumped mine. People were walking in all directions, cyclists were coming down the wrong way, crowds of people blocked passage for other passers-by, and sleeping transients got lost in the mumbled masses of people and street-side trash. I saw trouble. It was best, I decided, to just leave and head east. I never got to walk one street in downtown Portland. And parking? Forget it! Portland clearly is a city best seen by public transportation. Getting back on I-84 wasn't much easier this time, either.

It was late in the afternoon before I had my bearings back and was on the road. This drive east marked the start of my return trip. My mission to see the Lewis and Clark campsites along the mouth of the Columbia River and seeing Lynda again were the highlights of this trip. Now, I realized, everything else was just roadside attractions along the journey home.

I got off I-84 to drive whatever stretch of Historic US30 there was, which turned off I-84 at the Crown Point overlook. This was slow traffic, merging with parking lot traffic from cars pulling out of trail head parking lots. It was one waterfall after the other, although I will admit they were all spectacular.

Sadie was visibly tired today, looking at me sadly from her seat next to me. She also looked thinner than normal. Had she been losing weight on this trip? She's eaten very little of her dry kibble, and hotdogs were her staple on this trip, plus whatever other fast food she shared with me. Was she feeling OK? I stopped once to do a short hike just to keep awake, and to give my stiff leg muscles some movement. The desire to hike long and hard, however, was gone. I was admittedly tired.

The wind was blowing hard today. The forecast mentioned gusts of up to 40mph. Waters on the Columbia were choppy. In some areas, avid wind surfers were fighting the winds, or pushing themselves along the current. We continued to take little stops, walking around short river trails or overlooks. We were both feeling tired. It was late afternoon and I felt no pressure to leave the river today. It was a slow, dragged-out rebellion and avoidance of saying good-bye to a region that took me over 54 years to see for the first time.

My first city stop along the route was Hood River, a town popular for its windsurfing. The winds were blowing hard and brought a cold bite to them. I pulled into town to watch the surfers, but even just parking along the river front cost money, so I parked away from the parking lot, took some photos, and drove into town. Part of the old town is built into a slope, and roads run one way only. (That must be a state ordinance in all Oregon towns!) There were three popular breweries along a side street, and all looked busy. I stopped in one, bought a six-pack of their Full Sail Pilsner, but didn't stay because of Sadie. I didn't want to leave Sadie alone. At this point I had only driven 50 miles east of Portland. I do like my beer, but don't want to lavish in it every day.

I drove on. Historic US30 was a little-used highway here, a two-lane road meandering along the river. The busy traffic stayed on the interstate nearby, which meandered closer to the riverbank. Golden fields opened up to my right, higher hilltops exposed themselves farther way, This was, from my historical perspective, the "Golden Hills of Oregon," which means that the hills were laid bare by the loggers who came before me. The lush, wet, green Cascades were behind me now, and a sense of loneliness overcame me. Was the best of Oregon behind me now?

I pulled over at an overlook just east of Mosier. Three people were looking out to the east, drinking large bottles of Deschutes beer. I was parked nearby and we started a conversation, which somehow got me to mention that I was retired military and this was my first trip into Oregon. The tall man, Jesse, was surprised to hear I was also a Desert Storm veteran like himself, and invited me to stay at his place for the night, parking the van in his spacious yard. Although I didn't clock in much mileage, I thought this was a great idea to spend time with some locals. The young woman, Chrystal, was just as enthusiastic and showed me some places to hike and camp in the area.

I followed Jesse and Chrystal back to their home in Mosier. I was cautious, as I don't know how much Jesse had been drinking, and he was on a scooter. They both looked so free-loving as the wind swept around their helmets and both moved with the curves on the bike. Their home was an older wood home a block uphill from US30.

We sat outside and drank beer. Chrystal and I chatted about the area. She is Chinook Indian and talked about her time on the water in southwestern Washington. She loves the water, but moved here to Mosier to raise her son Thomas from her previous marriage. Mosier is smaller and more safe, she added, but she commutes every day back to Portland for her job.

Jesse drove into town to buy more beer. He kept handing me bottles of Deschutes; I couldn't keep up! More friends of his stopped by, including a retired stuntman from Hollywood. We were inside the home now, sitting on an old couch as Jesse held his sick Yorkie, Twinkie. Twinkie had been having trouble olding food down lately and needed to take her to the vet. "I will die if Twinkie dies" said Jesse, quite despondent over his little dog.

There were also two cats that lived outside. One was Mystery, a black cat with a badly-healed front right leg that caused a severe limp, but which didn't seem to slow the cat down much as it scurried around bushes and other obstacles. The other cat, an orange-white cat named Copper, was more friendly and eagerly posed for photographs.

I liked Chrystal and her open honesty. I told her she should work for the tourist industry, as she's very chipper, knows the land, and appears to have excellent people skills. Jesse talked to his friends and continued to drink, but when his company left, we all decided to call it a night. I went back to my van for a good night's sleep again, in a very quiet neighborhood.

"I'll keep the back door unlocked for you, so that you can come in and shower" said Jesse.






MORE LATER

Day 10: Portland area, Larch Mountain Trail

July 8th, 2014

Portland and hanging around with Lynda an extra day were well-deserved. Lynda had left me some guide books to look over, and I opted to do a 12-mile o/b waterfall hike in the Gorge area, the Larch Mountain Trail hike as described in the "Best Hikes with Dogs Oregon" book by Ellen Bishop. There were some great ideas in that book and I wanted a challenging hike. Hiking Hood would have been what I would have done, but not with Sadie.

The Larch Mountain Trail hike starts from a high parking lot and descends six miles to the lowest overlook. That part was easy; getting back up was more taxing! I also made the mistake of procrastinating at her home for a few hours, instead of taking off at 7am to get there by 8am. I didn't leave her house until 9:30am.

I got stuck in an hour-long traffic jam when an ODOT van tore an electric cable that fell across the interstate. Traffic came to a crawl and then stopped. It was just my luck I was the first vehicle in line; I saw the last few vehicles race over that downed cable before ODOT firefighters closed off the interstate. Walkers and cyclists along the bike trail adjacent to the interstate were also forbidden from crossing over the downed cable. A worker told me that they can't let any more vehicles cross over until an electrician confirms that the cable is not live. The media were at the scene before the electrician, so perhaps my DOGHUIS made the nightly news. That knocked-down cable kept most of east Portland without electricity for over 12 hours. I wasn't too upset as I had food and water with me, and made sure the senior Golden Retriever a few cars down had some, too. Truckers kept their refrigerated goods cold by keeping their engines running and many people opened their car doors to let in cool air. I chatted with the woman in the lane next to me. I saw no tempers flair. That's the part that should have made the local news!

This delay caused our hike start to get delayed. We didn't get to the trail head until 11:25am. I had estimated this hike to take us six hours, and I knew this late start would get me back to Lynda's later. We were the first cars at the parking lot.

Most people who hike the Larch Mountain trail start this at the lower end, at the Multnomah Falls Lodge, located right off Historic US30. After a mile of uphill hiking, they reach the upper falls, and then go back to their cars for a decent 2.6-mile hike that never leaves the falls. Starting at the upper trail head provides for a more quiet, people-free start. The lodge from here is 6.8 miles one-way. I opted to just hike down to the upper part of the famed Multnomah Falls, cutting off .8 miles to avoid the touristy, loud crowd.

The trail goes to the left of the toilets, past a picnic area of forgotten tables and moss-covered signs, before it slowly descends. It's an easy forest walk at this point, walking under tall pines and wildflowers as it meanders downhill and crosses over an old lava rock slide. I didn't bring extra water for Sadie because I figured she would drink from the creek, so when I finally did hear gurgling water noises, I was relieved. The creek appears at almost three miles into this hike at the first footbridge, a modified log. Sadie crossed this bridge and the steel one shortly after this one, with ease. We met three diehard hikers who had started at the lower trail head and made the upper trail head their destination, but we were to ourselves on this stretch. Sadie was off-leash and enjoying the walk. There were several trail junctions where hikers can see other falls, but we stayed on the main trail.

Once I reached the creek, the scenery changed. I was now parallel to Multnomah Creek, surrounded by an array of wildflowers and big raspberries and impressive rock formations. I picked many of the deep orange berries, knowing they weren't quite ripe yet. The tart juices gave me a bit of a zing. Sadie drank the creek water, got her paws wet, and continued on downhill with me. These last few miles truly were beautiful, with various small or dramatic falls along the way. Trees were overhanging the slopes as if reaching for sunlight. Birds twittered, butterflies pranced around the creek, and a cool mist covered my skin. I stopped many times to gaze at my surroundings, understanding quite well why anyone would want to seek out this hike for solitude, beauty, and awe. And I hadn't hit the main falls yet!

I didn't hit the masses of people until into the 4th mile. The many falls became prominent, and the trail either widened or became muddy from the mist. I had to put Sadie back on her leash, much to her chagrin. For a while I even rested at Ecola Falls so that she could rest a bit. Here young people pranced around in their swim wear under the falls. I continued down the trail as more people were coming uphill. Parts of the trail here were muddy from the mist and quite slippery; making this a rather treacherous section as the trail had nothing stopping anyone from falling over the cliff. I made the Upper Multnomah Falls my turn-around point. This was an overlook to the dizzying falls below, where most of the people walked up to before turning around. What the start of the trail had in solitude, this turn-around point had in crowds and noise. I didn't stay long.

The return hike was much more tiring, and I tired out faster than expected. I stopped a few times to rest, and couldn't be any happier to see the van again at 5pm! An RV was next to us, with a little girl speaking with a French accent wanting to pet Sadie, who didn't want the girl near her and jumped back into the van. Other people were also parked here to view the vista from Sheppard's Overlook, the summit of Larch mountain. I was too tired and hungry to do that.

Getting back to Lynda's wasn't easy, either. I was in rush hour, got confused with the exits, and got home two hours later! She had been waiting for me.

"Ready to eat?" she asked me.
"Yes, and I'm paying!" I said, to make up for her hospitality. She took me to an eclectic section to have me try the many "food carts" in the area. Lynda likes Asian cuisine, but the cart (I call them food vendors) were closed. We ended up eating at a German restaurant, Prost! because it had outside seating for the dogs. We joined two men sitting at a long table, Donovan and Steve. Steve came from Germany ("My mother named me Steve because she was a big fan of Steve McQueen!") and Donovan had served in Germany during his army years and developed a liking for soccer while there. There were many people sitting in the back, still discussing the unbelievable 7-1 Germany win over Brazil in the World Cup. I had completely forgotten about the World Cup today, but we saw highlights on the big screen TV. Both dogs sat quietly by our sides. Sadie was especially silent.

I ordered a simple curry wurst that came well-presented. I also had two beers. Lynda had a similar meal with non-alcoholic beer. My bill came to $40 for that. We didn't stay long to chat with the guys as we both were tired now and Lynda had to get up early for work.

This was my final day in Portland. I stayed up late again going over hiking guides for eastern Oregon. There is still so much to see and do here. Hopefully I can make it back here again.

Day 9: Portland and the Mount Hood loop

July 7th, 2014

I couldn't wait to see Lynda this morning. She said to call her early in the morning. I should have asked her how early is early, as I get up with the sun. I had parked in a residential area for the night, but then noticed that I was actually in front of a small hospital and I was in a 30-minute zone. Glad no one ticketed me!

My tablet received a WiFi connection and got a GPS location putting me just a few blocks from the Mount Tabor park, a small city park built on an extinct volcano. I drove there for our morning exercise as it was close-by and early. We came in from the west, and the road was still gated shut at 6am. People were already walking their dogs, jogging, or riding their bikes up this hill, which did provide some views of the city. Portland looked so green in all directions, and the sun's first rays on the trees provided a soft golden glow. Paths and a paved road meandered up this hill, but stairs seemed to be just from the west. Old-growth trees dominated the upper area. We made it up to the hilltop, then walked down, and I was ready to drive toward Lynda's NE location. I still had to find a quiet place to wash up, and that was on a more central park where no one could see what I was doing. It was just my hair; I can't feel good with greasy hair.

I found Lynda's address rather quickly, but forgot that she said that her house is the back of a duplex. I had walked up and down her block with Sadie on her leash before Lynda came out. She looked just like she did in high school 36 years ago...only older! We hugged and laughed. Oh my, this made the 2300 miles worth it! And her little yellow Lab mix, Gracie, got along so well with Sadie.

Lynda had plans for today. We went down to a local coffee shop for coffee, a short walk from her house. My cappuccino was served in a normal-sized coffee mug and a design was etched into the milk. How lovely. This is what I miss when I drink McD's coffee all the time: craft. Both dogs were well-behaved as we sat outside and talked. And talked.

Lynda took today off and wanted to show me the Mt Hood Loop, a drive around the old volcano involving several roads. We took our time. We had lunch at a Burgerville fast-food place, a regional hamburger joint as good as California's In-N-Out Burgers which I do like very much. She took me down the Columbia River gorge, took me to several beautiful vistas, and then we drove along the Historic US30, which hugged the river and from where one could find a plethora of hiking trails. We even attempted to hike down the Oneta Gorge, but the many fallen trees at the start, that people had to climb over, were too much for Sadie. While Gracie had no trouble, Sadie fell as she followed me, and even I had some trouble since I was holding my small camera and her leash. Someone yelled "Someone's dog just fell!" and there Sadie was, looking up at me from the water but otherwise not showing any trauma or injury. She had been able to free herself from the area where she fell and was standing up. People thought her raw bald spot on her rear right leg was an injury she got from this. No, I told them, it's a bald spot from a bug bite that irritated her to the point of her pulling her fur out. We opted at that point to hike elsewhere, although this gorge, from what I could tell, is stunning. It's also very popular any time of day.

We ended up hiking a few miles on the Barlow Pass, a section of the PCT, instead. We were alone, the dogs were off-leash, and around us were tall pines. It was an easy section and we were on it for about an hour. I had to wonder when Darlene would be walking this same section on her journey. We could see Mount Hood from several tree clearings. It was the Timberling Lodge at Mount Hood that was our next destination.

Lynda's grandfather helped design the road leading up to the Timberline Lodge, which was as close as we got to the volcano's rim. The Lodge today is still a popular place, with rooms starting at $135 and going up as high as $350 a night. I did a quick tour inside while Lynda had both dogs as she waited outside. The interior of the Lodge is very inviting and I can see why so many people come here. Everything is made of light pine. There are two restaurants, a gift shop and a community room with fireplace. Not only are ski routes available from the Lodge, as well as hiking trails, but the views toward the Three Sisters is also quite impressive. The dogs enjoyed eating some snow while a young man next to us was experiencing snow for the first time. "He's from San Diego" said his female friend apologetically. The mountain did look inviting.

The dogs sat in the back seat as we drove on. Gracie tore at my heart strings. Lynda picked up a winner when she adopted that dog from a Portland shelter a few years ago. They were quite a pair in the car for the entire journey, even when we stopped at a grocery store on the way back to Lynda's house, and then back at her place and playing in her small yard. Sadie was a bit obtuse but she is like that around her own pack. She is most comfortable when she is around me.

Lynda made lamb chops with grilled brussel sprouts. We stayed in for the evening just talking. She went to bed at 11pm, I was up till midnight. It was nice to sleep in a bed again, and Sadie was right there with me.
MORE TO COME

Day 8: Seaside to Portland; exploring the Lewis and Clark history

July 6th, 2014

I was brutally awakened at 1:30am by floodlights shining into my van. Oh uh, and I was in such deep sleep it took a while to figure out what was going on. Sadie barked, and I heard a man's voice identify himself as a police officer. It turns out that off-road parking area was a private residential parking area. Cannon Beach forbids "sleeping in cars" within its city limits.

"I know there are no signs indicating no overnight camping" said the understanding cop,"so I won't give you a ticket." (yikes!) "I just sent another vehicle over to a gravel area a mile away..."

I know I must have looked wonderful with tosseled hair and droopy eyes so early in the morning, and I tried to follow his instructions as to where this parking lot was. I saw a van parked off the road with the lights and side door open, and I opted to just get back on US101 and head into the next town, Seaside. Parking near the other van would have looked suspicious, and I wanted to give the other people their space. I never got to see much else of Cannon Beach. Seaside actually has signs indicating where RV parking is. I pulled over in the RV area, along a river, and slept soundly for several more hours.

I never had any other trouble with law enforcement for the rest of my trip.

As luck would have it, I parked near the salt works that the Lewis and Clark team had developed when they were in this area the winter of 1805. The salt they made here was used for meat preservation, for that winter and for their return back to St Louis. It's the first thing I saw as the sun came up, and Sadie and I had a quick walk to the nearby water's edge where Sadie did her business. The ocean looked very calm here, with nothing to see across that vast body of water.

Without directional signs I never would have looked for the salt works in a tight residential area such as Seaside, so this was a nice surprise to see. The remaining salt works is located between two homes a few hundred feet from the ocean. It's very small, gated off, but one can see the old fire hut where salt was processed. This shows how much the area has been developed since the early 1800s.

Seaside was not on my itinerary but it looked like a big town with all the amenities. Tall hotels lined the ocean, coffee and beer joints jotted the area. Few people were on the streets. I had a quick breakfast at McD's, again sharing my Sausage Egg McMuffins with Sadie. I was now approaching the old Lewis and Clark area and getting excited. The Lewis and Clark history of the Columbia River was one of the big reasons I did this road trip.

Fort Clatsop was not far from Seaside. The area here was mostly flat and urban; lots of strip malls and businesses along US101. When I took the Fort Clatsop exit to the Lewis and Clark National Historical Park, I learned that the park didn't even open until 9am. It was 8:20am so I decided to walk the "Fort to Sea" trail to the overview and back, making for a nice four-mile walk. Sadie stayed on-leash for this one.

The area here is no longer much of its old self. The trees look young (not old growth) and there are many clearings. Many trees were downed from recent storms, too. Lush foliage towered over anyone walking through the park. This is a fairly new trail developed in 2007 that I don't remember reading about in my old L&C guide book to historical sites. It's a wide trail that goes on for six miles to the sea in a forested area.

While not very scenic thanks to the overgrowth, the many flowers were interesting. It reminded me of flora I have seen in Olympia National Park. We were the only ones on the trail and didn't meet a soul until we got to the overview, where I met an older man, Bill, who started this hike from the ocean side earlier that morning. We had a nice chat.

Bill is a retired park service ranger from southern California who moved to Oregon 30 years ago. He had been a frequent visitor to Oregon and liked the area, so he settled here. His son is in the movie business and has appeared in Free Willie2, Kindergarten Cops and a few other big hits. Bill is a birder and carried his binoculars around his neck. He asked to take a photo of Sadie and me. Sadie patiently waited for us to return on our trip and was at her best behavior around Bill. He gave me updates of this trail. The western access to this trail is easy to get to, but is a small trail head off the main highway. He hikes this trail quite a bit as there is little else in the immediate area that isn't too over-developed.

We returned the way we came. We got back to the Visitor's Center by 9:40am. I found a great shaded spot away from the building for Sadie to rest in peace. The Visitor's Center was now crowded! I didn't expect so many people here on a Sunday who were interested in the Lewis and Clark trail! Shouldn't they all be in church?! I spent some time here, read the maps (and realized how far away the salt works were and was feeling lucky I stumbled into that location). I toured the replica fort, watched a demonstration of an old musket getting fired, and looked around at the replica gear the Lewis and Clark team wore. The fort was rebuilt in 2005, and the small structure today would barely be considered large enough for a family of four.

"Make sure you visit Cape Disappointment!" said the ranger. And I took her advice. I bought a long-sleeved shirt at the gift shop, my only sourvenir from this trip outside of the standard pint glasses I buy from decent brewpubs. We also stopped at an old kayak launching area near the Netul River (the word is from the local natives), which is still in pristine condition along this marshy area. I could see the bridge into Washington state from here.

Now I was reeved up. After over 2200 miles I had made it to Fort Clatsop! The area did not disappoint, but what I wanted to see now was Cape Disappointment and feel the cold wind come off the ocean, see the brutal waves crash against the shore. The landing here for the Corps of Discovery was a miserable stay for the crew, so they moved down to Fort Clatsop where the winds were calmer and there were things to hunt.

The bridge into Washington was free-going northbound, but traffic going southbound back into Oregon was stalled. Did I have that to look forward to on my return drive? I didn't let that visual bother me and drove across the Columbia River, driving around the small marine town of Ilwaco, which had fishermen selling their fresh-caught harvest of tuna, salmon and sturgeon. Buyers were walking back to their cars holding big fish in their hands. I missed the small road to Cape Disappointment and landed in the busy tourist-coast town of Long Beach before I turned around and found the right road.

Cape Disappointment turned out to not live up to its moniker. It's quite beautiful on this little peninsula, although it juts out into the ocean catching the high winds and fog. Vehicles were parked out on the beaches but I opted to stay on the high road, focusing on looking at the shoreline and lighthouses. The actual beach part where the L&C team camped out, though,was interesting to see. It's protected from the south by a high wall of rock, is set in a bit on an inlet, and a long jetty keeps water moving in from the north. Downed trees are piled up on the beach. I saw many dogs running through the water, having a good time with their owners. Sadie went into the water here, but didn't stay for long.

There was much activity at the lighthouses, where people seem to gather for short walks and picture taking. The lighthouses here are under the Washingtong State Park management, which meant I had to pay $10 to view as many state parks as I could for the day pass. This was money well-spent,as one can look out toward the ocean from the lighthouse and imagine how life must have been like for the first white settlers here.

Again, Sadie showed no excitement to walk much, and I kept her in the car for the first hike up the more northern light house. I did take her out on the longer hike to the beach and the more southern lighthouse. Both places were thriving with people and dogs. Sadie got a lot of attention again, including from an older couple vacationing from the South who insisted on giving Sadie a plastic bag of water. (I didn't have my backpack with me)

The day was slowly fading and I had gotten a text message from my old high school friend that she would be back in Portland on Sunday and would wait for me. When I got back to the van I got another text saying her Vanagon had broken down and is still waiting on a mechanic in Fossil, OR. This allowed me some time to get to Portland. It didn't look like she would be back by Sunday night, so I slowed my pace down some and visited Fort Columbia, an old Army fort with original U.S. Army Coastal Artillery fort buildings and batteries, active from 1896 to 1947. This area was also home to the Chinook Indian Nation and their famed Chief Comcomly, and explored by Robert Gray and the Lewis and Clark expedition (according to their brochure). The only building that is open to visitors is the enlisted barracks, a three-story wooden structure designed for 100 men. A chowhall and library were all part of this set-up. I got a shaded spot for Sadie and left the windows down again. She continued to nap.

The inside was a musuem with some of the rooms restored as they were during the wars. The volunteers greeting visitors were a retired Army couple from Texas, Jim and Ammette Finkhouser. We somehow got started talking about the Army, then our service, and Jim then volunteers that they lost their 35-year-old son Alex on Memorial Day, May 26, 2006 when his vehicle was hit by an Improvised Explosive Device. "I can not celebrate Memorial Day anymore" whispered Jim, who himself is a retired Colonel who served time in Vietnam. I felt a flashback go through me, and I started telling the couple about my own experiences in Iraq, crying not so much for me, but for the losses I saw and felt in others. I hadn't had such a flashback in many years, but this time I let it go. They understood my pain, but I knew their pain is so much worse.

We were there for quite a while talking. The museum closed at 4:30pm and we were still chatting. I had to let them go on with their evening, and thanked them again for their sacrifice. I felt better once I was outside again, walking around the rest of the small park. This was the third Oregon State Park I visited today. I can say I got my $10 worth!

Getting back into Oregon was effortless. The traffic jam from earlier was gone and I quickly got into Astoria, and even quicker found an attractive brewpub with the Fort George Brew Pub right in the downtown area. I sat at the bar, tried one Quick Wit which was very good, then tried the Hefe Weizen, which was even better, and then ordered a cheeseburger which was also quite good. This was a very busy place, with a large downstairs, large upstairs, and an outdoor patio. My bartender, a 30-something-year-old man, was proud to tell me that some of the workers brew their own beer here as experiments. The one I tried was quite good, but I wanted to keep my beers down to two with my meal. I still had to drive to Portland so I could meet up with Lynda.

What I should have done is explored Astoria more. That was one town that was on my must-see list. I wanted to explore the old marina and see where the "Googies" was filmed, at least the house in which the brothers lived. Instead, I drove on to Portland which was still two hours away, in the dark.






MORE TO COME

Day 7: Yachats to Seaside; a day on the Oregon coast

July 5th, 2014

A cool fog, as expected, woke us up. Seagulls were gawking and laughing and providing background noise I'm familiar with, having lived several years in Pacific Grove, CA. We were up and out before most people were awake, and even before the sun was able to climb out from behind the marine layer. The town was already alive. Campers who were camped out in the inlet overnight were just waking up. There were plenty of empty liquor bottles on the beach, which, gladly, the campers themselves cleaned up. Diehard beach combers, wrapped in warm jackets or blankets, were already walking the sand for edibles. It was just as serene in the morning here as it was the night before, before the fireworks.

A short beach trail in town led to the direct coast, with the typical lava rocks protruding from the ground. Here the waves crashed mercilessly, and a 2011 plaque warned to be careful: two young men from Eugene were knocked off these rocks and drowned in the cold waters that February, while their three friends watched helplessly. The plaque continues with the gruesome fact that both men were dead within three minutes. What a haunting memory for the three surviving friends. I did not proceed any closer on these treacherous rocks.

I opted not to stay much longer in Yachats. I had to use my windshield wipers to clear the view from the morning mist. The town was definitely a great place to spend the night, with its natural beauty all around it. I drove south a few miles to explore Cape Perpetua, a scenic area I stopped in briefly the night before. I wanted to hike the Giant Spruce Trail into the narrow lush canyon. The trail was one one mile one way, and if done early enough would still be peaceful without screaming children. There were a few longer, more strenuous trails I could have taken, but after that long McKenzie trail yesterday even I needed a day of recovery; a two-mile morning hike before more driving was ideal.

The short trail to the Giant Spruce was covered in lush ferns and colorful wildflowers and many other large spruce. The Giant Spruce on this trail is the largest Sitka Spruce on the Pacific Coast. It began growing on the remains of a downed spruce, and took its nutrients from the dead tree. One can see protruding roots hug what once was that dead tree. A small drainage provides water for this spruce, and the immediate area is a nice place to relax in the cool canyon air.

The Sitka spruce only grows in small tracts along the northern coast. Allegedly Captain Thomas Cook had first seen these during his voyage back in the 1770s. While I had Sadie on her leash, she did get to walk freely with the leash dragging behind her. We didn't have any one else join us until on our return hike.

Last night's celebrations seemed to have been fatal to one dog and a deer, lying dead on the highway just outside Yachats. Later on a large bird joined the casualty list.

This was a beautiful drive, as the coastline became rockier and more scenic, with a plenitude of scenic vistas and pull-overs and many trail heads to get down to the ocean. I was in no hurry and yet I had too many options. I wanted the usual scenery and trails to delight in. Sadie, on the other hand, preferred to stay in the safety of the van. With all the windows open and a water bowl at her disposal, she was safe. This is where the cool ocean breeze came in handy. There was also the dog lover in me who wanted her out and about in the forest. This was her road trip, too.

At any rate, all day today I was at full trottle. The coast off Oregon is a designated "marine garden" so no sea life can be taken unless it's razor clams or finfish, according to signs at all beaches. Lava beds created the jagged coastline here, and these same lava formations also have powerful chasms that bring in treacherous waves. One very impressive chasm is Devil's Churn, not far away south of Yachats. I hiked down to this ominous creation, careful of every step as one false move and I'd be drowning in the cold waters and getting knocked against the sharp rocks. The sound coming from this chasm does sound like the devil moaning.

There are other trails near Devil's Churn that I explored quickly, short cliff trails shaded by tall pines, ferns and dense shrubs. The Cove Trail near Devil's Churn was also worth seeing, as it dips down to the coast before going uphill again, up and around a small inlet covered by old snags. Water fowl made this place their home, and I watched a couple of turkey vultures on a nearby tree stump.

Sadie showed no exuberance at getting out. Perhaps the long hike yesterday really did wear her out, so I let her be. An even more exciting attraction was another peninsula providing great vistas, the Yaquina Head recreation area, a narrow peninsula that protudes a mile into the ocean. Seal Rock is visible (another sea lion hang-out) This is also another very popular rest area (for a fee) with a large parking lot. Nearby boulders away from the ocean provide ideal nesting places for osprey, falcons and swifts.

One falcon fledgling was nearby on a rock, providing several photographers the perfect model bird. I hiked to the lighthouse, observed gulls and other wildlife, gazed at anemones, and followed what others were saying was a blue whale near the shore, all right there off Yaquina Head. Even one of the young rangers was delighted to tell me of all the nesting birds in the area. I powerhiked all the trails so that Sadie didn't have to wait long for me. Low Tide was at 12:10pm and I got there at 1:35pm to calm waters and blue sky. What a perfect time to watch all this glory unfold in front of me.

Lincoln City was a town I wanted to see and spend time in, perhaps even overnight in, because write-ups for this place were all so positive. But when I got to town it was one bigass fustercluck, with congestion and traffic lanes closed due to construction. Post-holiday travelers didn't help much, either. So, sensing northbound slo-mo, I pulled into the Rusty Truck Brewing Company for dinner. This was a nice treat as teh beer was good and my burger was decent, all while Sadie napped in the van with wide open windows, all under heavy shade. It was a win-win situation but I never did get to see the historical part of Lincoln City. Traffic was better once I got back on US101, and I ended up driving as far as I could in day light. US101 through Oregon is a beautiful drive, and the coast never ends being breathtakingly beautiful. I took coastal side trips as much as I could, just to see huge lava rocks jettison from the ocean surface.

Our last hike for today was another unplanned little gem: the Cape Trail, which would have required two hours to enjoy to get down to the ocean. We didn't start until 6:30pm and I didn't want to be caught in this thick spruce forest by myself. The trees were tall and gave off a thick shade. The ocean was visible far below, as the trail zig-zagged down to the water. We didn't go all the way. When we hit a break in the treeline and could see the cape, we rested a bit and then turned around. This was another missed opportunity for recreation, something to note for another time. All of Oregon that I have seen so far merits a return visit.

These slightly out-of-the-way adventures have been my favorites so far, the less-used trails that provide a more calming experience. Sadie did fine on her evening walk, but she was noticeably slower than yesterday. I went with her pace.

We were now losing sunlight fast, but managed to see Three Cape Rock in the setting sun, a mystical lava protrusion (what else?!) off the coast from a small hillside town. People were lingering here, with beach fires and wet dogs. Being here almost felt like violating their privacy. The coast of Oregon has been wonderful to take in, as the land changes off between rocky coast line or low-meadow farmland.

I now had to seriously think of a camping place. US101 was now getting dark and I was violating my own rule of not driving after dark. The road meanders up and around hills and curves and deer were coming out to graze right off the road. The few pull-offs I saw all prohibited overnight camping. I finally relented and pulled over in Cannon Beach, where cars were parked on either side of the road.






MORE TO COME

Day 6: McKenzie River Trail to Yachats, OR

July 4th, 2014

I didn't hesitate to get up early and drive to the McKenzie River Trail across the street. Most campers were quiet and only one other woman and her dog showed any signs of life.

I was the first car at the trail head where the McKenzie River Trail and the historic Old Santiam Wagon Road Trail, a trail used by carriages to get across the Cascades. It was cool here, and a slight fog still lingered overhead. The fog dissipated an hour later, but at the start I was slightly chilled. It was 6:20am. Sadie, of course, was ready to go. A pedestrian bridge visible from the trail head was the official start of the 26-mile-long river trail. I planned on only doing 5.5 miles of this; with a return trip this would amount to 11 miles on a relatively flat trail. The final mileage turned out to be more like 13 miles, with an added loop once I got to the waterfalls.

This river trail was pure joy. It starts out following a drainage creek into Clear Lake, a large pond that formed from lava flow and snow melt. There is plenty of lava flow visible on the eastern shores of this lake, while the more level and developed western side is taken by the Clear Lake Camp Resort. The eastern side is less traveled, and there is much to see from this perspective. Clear Lake truly deserves its name, as logs resting on the bottom are visible from above. Many hikers around this lake start and finish at the campground, covering 4.6 miles that I would consider a great morning hike. The eastern side is doable for mountain bikers who passed me later in the day.

The only sun-exposed section of this trail is the western shore of the lake. The rest is heavily shaded by Ponderosa and other pines. The McKenzie River Trail stays true to its name and stays along the rushing creek. Sadie was off-leash for most of this hike, only getting leashed when other dogs came on the scene, and that was not until we got to the first grandiose waterfall, the Sahalee Falls, with the just-as-impressive Koosah Falls closer to Carmen Reservoir. These falls are so powerful, that water mist gets on hikers on the trail. Water drops dangled from grass near the top of the falls.

We were tired by the time we hit the second waterfall. As beautiful as this trail is, I knew I had to turn back, and by now more people were on the trail. The crowds got even more intense as I neared the campsite. Mountain bikers were especially active this morning, followed by campers walking their dogs.

Sadie is normally a gentle dog, but she does react aggressively to certain other dogs. It's not always the smaller dogs she barks at. Sometimes she barks at female dogs, other times at male dogs both big and small. I try to keep her on a leash when we encounter another dog on a trail, just to be safe. Sadie ended up snapping at a gentle pit bull who passed us, and shortly thereafter was attacked by The Pomeranian from Hell. The owner apologized and told me his dog hated all other dogs. When that dog went into attack mode in the camp site as we were walking through (following the trail), I pulled on Sadie's blue harness to lift her off the ground. The owner snatched his dog at the last minute. Without that intervention, it could easily have been much worse, as the Pomeranian was running off-leash.

The western shore of Clear Lake was much busier now. People were out and about, cars were driving by, and dogs and kids were active. The trail partially went on pavement across the campground to re-connect on the north end of Clear Lake. We made it back to our van by 1pm. I felt depleted, but satisfied, to have seen so much beauty this morning. I can see why so many people were on this trail.

The rest of the drive across Oregon was less spectacular. The state road continued to meander around pines, streams, meadows, with an occasional covered bridge. The mountains had turned into tree-studded hills.

Eugene was next on my list, but once in the city, was less impressed. The many young, disheveled street artists reminded me of the same people who used to hang around downtown Santa Cruz, before they were kicked out a few years ago and relocated to Monterey's marina. While some of the musicians had talent, others were quite comical in the chalk art that resembled that of a Special Ed class. Had these young people no ambition? They were loitering and asking for money from passers-by, and when I photographed them, one young man became belligerent. Sorry Dude, if you hang around a public street, you are open to public scrutiny and that includes being photographed.

The area around Broadway in Eugene seemed like a nice enough area. This tree-lined downtown area had pubs and eateries and several coffee shops, but the many street "artists" and panhandlers turned me off. I opted to just drive toward the ocean, toward Florence. I had plenty of day light.

The drive to the ocean didn't take long at all. Eugene was already on the "other" side of the Cascades and I was rolling through more agricultural land now. I stayed on OR126, which meandered calmly across dairy farms and watersheds before ending in the coastal town of Florence and US101. It was 5:30pm and I still have several hours of daylight.

While the shops in the tourist area were busy and parking spaces were nil, I drove a bit further away to find a quiet spot to park, a north-shade side street so Sadie could stay away from the crowds and noise. She's let me know that she does not like urban walks, and a leash stresses her out. I made my walk a quick on, up and down the marina, past the city park where people brought their lawn chairs to wait for the fireworks, and the main street with the shops and restaurants. This was not a sleepy little town, but a bubbly little merchant town! Visitors were in their holiday spirit, and some even brought their dogs dressed in red, white and blue. I even saw runners dressed in costume running down the pier: Captain America, Lady Liberty...this was certainly a creative (and I'm sure rather "cool") costume for the breezy beach setting. I could have stayed here and joined the fun, but dreaded outgoing traffic after any celebration. The heavy crowd would make getting something to eat a chore.

Local law enforcement in Florence was heavy, which indicated to me that this town has a reputation for hard partyers. That was my ultimate reason for not staying in Florence. There were few hills here against the ocean and on a stormy day I can see the town getting hit hard by gale-force winds.

It was nice to be on the Pacific Ocean again. I will always have fond memories of both Pacific and Atlantic oceans (having lived near both in my army days) I just didn't have the tolerance to drive through the slowed traffic. Everyone was out today! And it was a Friday!

The wind made the temperatures along the ocean noticeably cooler. This was relief. Perhaps now I could sleep soundly and so could Sadie! I drove north, pulled over at the first public beach to see the view (there wasn't much), and even took time out to wash my hair from my secluded parking area. At least I could go into a holiday party with clean hair! The beach proved too windy and cold for me, and Sadie was only out long enough to pee in the cypress cove, but the flat terrain did not last.

Just north of this beach, the coastal hills reappeared. My odometer read 1999.6 miles driven since leaving home. I came across a popular roadside attraction: Sea Lion Caves, a commercially-run cliff-side attraction where for $14 an adult ($8 for kids 5-12) can take an elevator down to the shore to see sea lions. The large, busy parking lot to my right is what caught my eye first. I've seen nesting sea lions off the southern California coast, and didn't think it was a big deal to see them here in Oregon. People parked their cars and walked down to the visitor's hut to view animals with binoculars. Some walked inside, paid, and walked down the path to see the animals up close.

I had arrived at the parking lot just before 7pm and saw the place closed down while I was there. I wouldn't have paid $14 to see sea lions, and was surprised that there was even an admission fee at all to see something so spectacular. Visitors who were already down at the coast were slowly walking back up the paved trail, but no one else was allowed in. In the summer months I don't understand why admission can't last till 8pm, as there's decent sunlight for another hour. Online reviews say this place is so dark, that one can't take decent photos in the caves. Still, it was a serene place to stop at if just to enjoy the view. Little did I know that there were many more places along the coast to pull over to take in the views. Sea Lion Caves just happens to be the most expensive one!

There was more to see now as I drove north. Small spurs dropped dramatically into the ocean far below as the highway continued to meander north. I wanted to take it all in, and photograph it all. That, I learned, is impossible unless there's an infinite amount of time. The Hecheta Head Lighthouse Scenic vista was next, and I pulled off to see that, but ended up not paying attention and ended on Cape Creek Road, a single-lane, badly eroded paved road that meandered up the hill to what seemed Nowhere. While a great spot for dispersed camping (one small camper already staked claim to one level, open spot), this was not an ideal road for my van. The grade was getting too steep and the road too rutted. I turned around here and finally saw the main road I was to be on. I was now on state park land and my $80 National Parks Pass was invalid here. Nor could I see the famed lighthouse without hiking up a half-mile trail. This would have been a perfect hike had I more time, as this 1894 light house is the most-photographed in Oregon and the terrain here truly beautiful. I would have bought the state parks pass for the time I was in Oregon. Hecheta Head was definitely a place to see. I will make sure I see it on my next trip to Oregon and hike all the trails here. There will be a next trip.

The small artsy coastal town of Yachats was 26 miles away, nestled in a small bay with hillside cottages. Driving over a hill and seeing the view took my breath away. It was 8pm and I realized this is where I was going to spend July 4th. Even with the fading sunlight, I could see this was a pleasant little coastal town.

At first I parked right on the beach road where others were parked, but then realized I would be right in the action. I didn't want to stress Sadie out and gave up my prime real estate for a side street slightly up a hill with a view of the bay (and many, many electrical cables overhead). This was more to my liking. I was next to a bakery that offered a strong WiFi signal and stayed there for several hours. The fireworks didn't even start until 10pm, and what a great light show it was! For a small town, Yachats truly blew it all!

After the fireworks people continued to mingle in the streets. Out-of-towners left and clogged US101 in both directions, but locals stayed to listen to eclectic musicians, from esoteric dancers in glistening genie costumes while a long-haired older man banged on bongo drums, to flautists and fire twirlers. This wasn't exactly my idea of entertainment, but the crowds, especially the kids, were mesmerized.

An hour later music was still playing and some shops were closing. I was very tired, after that long hike along the McKenzie River Trail. The only quiet place I found that looked isolated was the dark side of a very big resort hotel's parking lot. This gave Sadie easy access to some grass she could pee on if the need arose. We both slept soundly.

Day 5: Bend to Fish Lake, OR

July 3, 2014

We were up at sun rise; city traffic started earlier than normal. I drove back into downtown and had a double cappuccino at a Starbucks while Sadie rested in the van. I enjoyed my drink, got on the internet with my tablet to search for a local hike, and admired the many bearded men. Even the barrista wore a long beard. I do appreciate well-groomed facial hair on men.

After a quick stroll through Drake Park, where, yes, several homeless men were sleeping with the Canadian geese, I opted to head west to hike Tumalo Falls, an eight-mile r/t hike to several water falls. Sadie would enjoy this hike more than any urban trail which restricts her to the leash. Trail head is off Skyliner Road, which turns into Tumalo Falls Road and then gravel road FS4603. Skyliner Road was just off Galveston Avenue in Bend, which I magically found myself on as I was driving west. Local write-ups gave this hike five stars, as it's only 12 miles west of town and easily accessible. There is a $5 USFS fee to hike this. I got a good parking spot and was on the trail by 9am. As expected, most of the hikers only hiked to the first falls; after that the trail became less crowded and I was able to take Sadie off her leash so she could relax. This is what we wanted!

Tumalo Falls was worth the drive. There was shade and water for Sadie all throughout this hike. At times the river was right next to us, at other times it was further down a steep, tree-studded slope. We never lost sound of the rushing water. Several small, icy snowbanks were still in the northern slopes. It was a gradual uphill all the way up to Happy Meadows, were the terrain flattened out over a widening creek, surrounded by many dead trees from the 1979 Bridge Creek Fire. This had to have been one intense fire for the trees near the creek to burn.

Many of the diehard hikers stopped here for a snack before either turning around or continuing on several other trails at this junction. A variety of nice wildflowers bloomed, but there were also many bugs (and huge ants!) in this meadow. I wanted Sadie to relax for a bit, but the bugs chased me away. I felt like I was on the John Muir Trail again, enjoying the solitude of rushing water, cool breezes, and tall trees. Mountain bikers have uphill access on the Tumalo Falls trail, but must descent via a loop trail that is mostly exposed to the sun, thanks to the old fire.

Uphill traffic seemed to increase as we were going downhill. It was a warm day and I was surprised to see so many people starting late in the morning for this hike. I stopped a few times to chat with hikers. One local woman, who again admired Sadie, hikes this trail on a regular basis. The crowds don't bother her, she said.

The parking lot was beyond capacity when I returned to the van at 1pm. Vehicles were now parked on the Forest Service road 1/4 mile down the road. I was glad to get out of the lot to make room for another group of hikers, and returned to Bend the way I came, but not before stopping in a secluded forest camp site to wash up. Dispersed camping is the way I prefer to camp, and not in dark hotel parking lots or on quiet residential streets.

I had all the van doors open to give Sadie a nice breeze, while she napped and I washed my hair. The 5-gallon solar shower bag is a godsend on my road trips, but most of the water had leaked out because the cap wasn't on tight enough. Perhaps the bag hit my cot and the pressure popped the cap loose. I had just enough water left to wash my hair and teeth.

The forest road I parked off of was popular with mountain bikers. Several white-breasted nuthatches were nearby, watching me closely as they chattered between themselves. No one else bothered us. This spot would have been an ideal spot to spend the rest of the day relaxing, reading, or just listening to nature.

I drove back up the forest road to another site closer to the creek. I had to refill my shower bag and soak my feet in the creek before driving back into town. I picked up the trash the previous camper had left behind.

I didn't want to leave Bend. There is so much to do in this town and I know I only got a taste of what the area has to offer. The streets were now busy with life and finding a parking spot in town in the shade would be difficult. I wanted to try the Deschutes Brewpub, whose pub in town was surprisingly small. I walked in and it was packed. Prices on the menu seemed high ($10 for a hamburger?!). A couple sitting across the street from the Deschutes Brew pub were enjoying their meal there with their two German Shepherd dogs, and suggested I try this place instead because food is better and prices are lower. They were right.

Bend is a town I could easily have spent a week in to explore more of the surrounding beauty. That also would have allowed me to try out all the beers. But eating out for every meal gets expensive, even if it's just for the craft beer. Before I left Bend on US20, I stopped at a grocery store to get more cheese and tortillas, beer to go, and snacks for Sadie. Getting out of town was trouble-free, but sad. I really liked my time in Bend.

We were now traveling west again, on US20, and entering the high Cascades with views of the Three Sisters, three volcanoes in close proximity to each other. This was a beautiful drive that cuts across the mountain range. I was astounded at how many dead/burned trees there were here, just north of Mount Washington. A Pacific Crest Trail sign off the main highway led me up north on a more narrow paved road to the PCT trail head. I was running out of daylight now, but imagined meeting Darlene here as she advances northward on her journey. There was no one around, although there were plenty of cars in this lot. It was a nice spot, albeit windy, to get out and walk some more. All the trees here were dead, and their tall remains cast an eerie sense across the landscape. For anyone hiking the PCT, this would be a good place to meet friends in the area and drive into Eugene or Corvallis to refuel.

My goal for tonight was to get as close to Eugene as possible. I had a hike planned along the McKenzie River in the morning, off OR126 east of Eugene. Once I got on OR126, the trees returned to a healthy state, but more lava flow was visible off either side of the highway. I found the McKenzie river trail head parking lot, drove up and down the highway some more to find dispersed camp sites, and ended up staying at Fish Lake, where many other campers were already hunkered down for the night. Despite the many people, it was again a very quiet night. Down a wide trail at Fish Lake we made it to the old cabins and barns that were constructed in the 1920s for the forest service. Dogs were to be on-leash here, but at dusk it was hard to enforce as no one else was out at this time. There was much croaking and squawking coming from the lake.

Day 4: Shasta City to Bend, OR

July 2nd, 2014

I got to watch the sun's first rays strike Mount Shasta as I had my coffee and muffins at the nearby McDonald's. Truckers around me had used the back parking lot as their camp site; many were hauling logs. People were already buzzing around, since I was so close to the interstate, and got on it to head north a short distance before getting off at Weed, CA to take US97 into Oregon.

"Enjoy Weed, California!" said one sign as I drove through the small logging town. Logs are still processed here in the outskirts of town.

I was now getting excited, knowing I was approaching an area I had never been in before. US97 skirted the north end of the Shasta mountain range, and the view of the mountain was more grandiose here from the northeast. I pulled into a forest service road that led toward the mountain, but I didn't want to get too high up on the road since I had left the water and backpack back at the van. Sadie and I walked a good mile out and back to get our legs stretched out. She was fine with that, running ahead and sniffing the chapperal. To the north was a high meadow of what looked like an old forest fire. Many dead trees and tree stumps lined northern horizon. The forest road was a well-used accessed point to more jeep trail further into the forest, but I didn't want to explore that. I just wanted some exercise. Mount Shasta is very enchanting; I would enjoy spending a week here just exploring the trails and alpine lakes.

The further north we got on US97, the more pronounced the dead trees became. Dead trees surrounded either side of the highway. It was later explained to me that the dead trees were a result of a scheduled fire set by the forest service, but the fire got out of hand. Sadly, I didn't see much new growth to take over.

This was a pretty drive, despite the dead trees and the heavy truck traffic. Dorris, CA was the last town in California on US97. The grey water tower in town intrigued me, and I ended up spending an hour in this small town trying to coax a small colony of feral cats that someone had left food and water for. There were two white calicos and one grey-white cat, and four kittens, three of which had eye infections. One of the white calicos, who may have been the mother to the kittens, seemed interested in getting closer to me, but her skittish kittens kept running away. The shelter appeared to be a nearby shed.

"There's a man who comes around every morning feeding these cats" said a bearded man, who happened to be the owner of both the town's grocery store and bed and breakfast. "These cats are so inbred. They go around eating other cats' food!" Sadly, I'm sure the kittens won't survive the winter unless they are trapped and given medical attention. Few feral cats are that lucky.

I continued north on US97, crested a hill and there it was: the Welcome to Oregon! sign. It was 9:33am. I had to stop and pose with Sadie by the sign. I had finally reached the last of the Lower 48 states! A few hundred feet past the welcome sign was a sign warning motorists that driving and talking on cell phones was illegal in Oregon.

Now I was fired up. The view north from the high mark on the hill was agricultural. Mountains were in the far northern distance. The fields were a lush green. There was a slight scent of cow manure. I saw what appeared to be raps seed. I had barely driven far when Kevin called, and I had to pull over and talk because Oregon forbids talking on a cell phone while driving. (So does Nevada, I learned later). It was nice to hear his voice, but the traffic nearby made it hard for us to hear each other. I was at the edge of a green field. Red-wing black birds were flying low. It's the first time I've seen a red-wing blackbird this far west.

The drive north on US97 continued to be eye candy. Lakes opened up off the highway, snow-capped volcanoes started to appear, and I truly had the sense of being in a whole new world.I wasn't expecting to see so much agriculture here, but terrain wise it made sense since western Oregon has the mountains and eastern Oregon the desert.

I crossed the Klamath River and saw a huge logging processing plant off the river. Sheared logs stripped of bark and branches were lined up in the water. It was a reminder of how much the logging industry means to this area.

My first image of Oregon was a street-legal tarp-covered dune buggy taking a right turn off US97. The driver was an older man with another male passenger, and behind him was a big Saint Bernard enjoying the ride. I ended up seeing several St Bernards later in Bend.

I stopped in Klamath Falls. It's still a very busy logging town, with murals on buildings showing how the logging industry, settlers and even the air force have played a big deal. I wanted to stop here for coffee, it was late morning, and I wanted to "feel" the place. I parked the van in the shade. In front of me, sitting on a city bench, was a heavily-tattooed balding man in a sleeveless red shirt eating sun flower seeds and throwing the shells into the street. He was totally oblivious of me watching him. He was a reminder that this town still has a rural feel to it. I drove on.

The drive became more "Oregony" as I drove north. The Upper Klamath Lake right off US97 provided for clearer views of the snow-capped volcanoes. They all looked alike to me. I finally felt "cool" breezes for the first time on my road trip, and I was enjoying the drive.

Crater Lakes National Park was on my must-see list for this trip, and drove in. Sadie and I attempted a short hike just outside the official park entrance. She led the way and went down a steep animal trail. I could see the dried flow of lava and ash on the trail. We had to turn around despite Sadie wanting to reach the rushing creek water, the flora was too thick to get through or around. Getting back up to the van was hard enough, carrying a camera! We were by now bushwhacking, too.

There were quite a few people waiting to join me, and my National Parks Pass didn't allow me faster entrance; there was only one attendant. This park was worth the drive.

Had I known that dogs were allowed to be in the vista areas or all paved surfaces, I would have brought Sadie out at the first vista that provided a view of the deep crevices in the area, where cascading water rushes far below. An older couple visiting from California, retired teachers,who were visiting friends in Bend, praised Sadie for her beauty. They come to Oregon quite often but had never been in this park.

The lodge's parking area was crowded. I just wanted to see the scenic views of the famed blue lake. Lodges and gift shops were not in my trip itinerary. Snow still lingered on the sides and off the streets, which radiated more cool air. I was liking this! Even Sadie came to life.

I stopped at ever vista, took photos, and admired the beauty. Dark clouds were moving in from the north, but weather reports said the storm was moving to the east. The dark clouds added a nice contrast to the photos I took. The lake water was so clear, you could see old snags at the lake's bottom! There were plenty of leashed dogs at the turn-offs, and the variety of park visitors included a group of curious monks. Crater Lake was literally a refreshing visit. Sadie was only interested in eating the icy snow, which I encouraged. The farther north we got on the rim drive (heading from the western loop) got less crowded as we got further away from the Lodge. This is one drive where lamenting the ban on dogs on hiking trails (the trails are on the eastern side of the park) didn't matter to me. The views and the cool air were plenty good.

We were in the park for only 90 minutes, but it was non-stop eye candy and invigoration. Once I left the park and drove back to US97, though, I became worried about the incoming storm. It was looking dark now, and it did rain on us a bit. But as soon as the storm came, it ended, and all that was left once we were back on the main highway, was a wet road surface. I was back to seeing logging trucks, road side cherry and raspberry vendors, and coffee shacks. This was clearly not the desolate terrain of Nevada.

My goal for today was Bend, OR. I had heard so many raves about that town in Outside Magazine and other outdoor-related forums. I arrived in Bend and found myself in a cornucopia of cars and streets, one-way avenues and roundabouts. There were plenty of roundabouts to disorient me at first. I had no idea where I was except that whatever neighborhood I was in was a nice neighborhood. It turns out that I was on the edge of the Old Mills District.

I eventually made it to the downtown area along the Deschutes River trail. I enjoy urban river trails and opted to make this our afternoon walk. Skies to our north still looked ominous, but I took the risk anyway. Sadie wasn't happy being on a leash and neither was I, and the trail didn't provide for much shade, but it did meander around some pretty venues. We stayed away from the shopping area on the opposite bank of the river. I wanted to find the old downtown area, but got confused with the directions from an exuberant local man. Sadie did get to drink from the river and refresh in an out-of-sight area, but the trail didn't get more exciting for her until we hit the edge of the downtown area and ended up on busy NW Galveston Avenue sprinkled with outdoor cafes and brewpubs.

If people don't believe that Oregonians like their beer, they need to visit Bend. The town has 16 breweries, most which one can walk to on the Ale Trail. The Deschutes Brewing Company has its large brewery on top of a hill overlooking the town from Colorado Avenue. Its chimneys are a landmark.

There were three beer bars on one block of Galveston Avenue, and I opted to go to the largest one, 10 Barrel Brewing, and sat outside with Sadie under a shade umbrella and picnic table. I chatted with the group next to me, but wondered why I wasn't getting served. Turns out the table was reserved for a party of six and I had to leave. "You can always order your food at the bar and eat outside!" said the server, but by then I was tired of waiting and just walked out. I had misunderstood the hostess when she said that dogs were welcome in the patio area, so I just walked in.

I ended up stopping at another bar a block down the same street and drank two local beers as I sat outside with Sadie in the shade. Sadie got her water and enjoyed the break as well. People were coming and going and it was a pleasant place to people-watch. Bend was all that I had expected it to be: hip, progressive, green and clean.

We had a long way back to the van, though, so after two beers we walked back the same way we came, passing Drake Park and its statues and getting on the opposite side of the river this time. The shopping side was just as busy as the more rural side and was a great way to spend three hours on a summer afternoon. People of all ages and sizes were outside walking, cycling, skate boarding.

I never did get a good sense of traffic in Bend, though. The many one-way streets made city exploring more dangerous. I found the Cascade Lakes Brewpub, which was located off a roundabout, and I sat there for a cheeseburger meal with Sadie by my side. Food and beer were delicious, and my server looked suspiciously like Prince William from England. I could not get WiFi, though.

l did find a McD's where I parked to update my Facebook. Now I needed time to relax as our riverwalk was good exercise. When we got back to downtown Bend, the Deschutes Brewpub was closed, as were most places at 11pm. I still walked around, took some night shots, and just wanted to experience this lovely little town in its nighttime setting. I did not see any homeless people sleeping in the streets. Perhaps they were hiding in Drake Park.

Our campsite tonight was not the best: it was behind a big hotel off a major road. I was too tired to look for something more secluded.