Good things come to those who wait…and those who clean vault toilets and mow lawns and clean off picnic tables and power wash pavilion floors and clean off huge greasy grills. John took my emphatically spoken verbal hint and we fled the heat before our campground began the occupation of campers for near 30 consecutive days. The temperature was climbing to the high 90’s as soon as the weekend passed but the coast had a cool front moving in and I needed coolness, if even for two days.

A once over of our campground, securing all locks, checking on my Indian Pipe now in partial bloom, ready, set, off we go!

Coos Bay was our most direct line to the ocean so we gathered up KatieBug, locked LilyPad and drove out early Tuesday morning. Leaving behind 98 degree heat in Roseburg, we arrived in Coos Bay slipping under a fog covered 55 degrees of divine coolness. It is a picturesque town, streets lined with huge baskets of multicolor blooms and surrounded by smaller towns that dot themselves along the bay. There has been a permanent settlement on Coos Bay since 1853.

Along with reprieve from the heat, after weeks of exile from human contact, I was in serious need of ears to bend in conversation. Liberation was delivered to me in an assortment of the most exuberant fascinating characters with which to chat, the ultimate being found in Cape Arago and Remote, OR.

Our room at pet friendly Red Lion Inn was not ready so we strolled along Coos Bay Boardwalk. Small, but with lots of local color, we read about the Bay’s history posted along the bayside view. Small  sea planes were waiting for their next paying guest on the dock below.

The Coos Bay Watershed is fed by the Coos River. The Native Indians who lived in this area were given the name Cook-Koo-Oose by the Lewis and Clark Expedition. Others to follow gave them derivatives ranging from Koo-as, Kowes, Koos, Coose and finally Coos. The mill towns grew up around the convenience of the waterways that surged 15 miles inland, filling the waterways, before receding back out to the Pacific Ocean.

The Koos 2 Tug Boat was built in 1924 for Knutson Tugboat Company.

There are many functioning, albeit tattered, tugs in the bay.  The Titan, a Koss Brothers Tug, was moored near the boardwalk.

A relaxing wander down to the Fisherman’s Seafood Market below the main boardwalk brought us to the pier area where we chitchatted with sailboat owners and watched the cook cut up fresh fish just out his back door and then brought inside for the fryer, throwing anything uneatable into the bay.

Back to check-in, our next stop, a peaceful view of the bay in front of Mill Casino and to take in some local casino action. Early enough to miss the smoking crowd, John played Black Jack while I happily plunked pennies, in the form of dollar bills, into The Wizard of Oz and Willie Wonka penny slots. We collectively brought home $25.00 of the casino’s money and skedaddled before being lured into a loss.

It was KatieBug’s turn for an adventure so we paused long enough at Bastendorff Beach to walk the long sandy stretch and let her run free off leash. Brisk movement kept John and I warm while our bug dashed around exploring the area and visiting with the other dogs walking their owners.

Up to the breakwater, back down the beach, across the sandy fire pits, shook off, brushed off and dined locally for lunch, replenishing with Moose Drool beer and fish taco’s. Across the street, the Charlytown Marketplace, an antique conglomerate gift shop to peruse before our next exploration.

Charlie the Tuna sits at the head of the bridge and is surrounded by mounds of empty oyster shells from the local oyster canning businesses.

Not wanting to waste daylight, we consulted the map and followed the winding coastal roads to Cape Arago. In 1579 Sir Francis Drake is purported to have sought shelter for his ship, the Golden Hinde, around Cape Arago.

In search of Cape Arago Lighthouse, the misty fog steered me to my first excellent ear bending session. A right turn towards the ocean, entering a road we quickly learned was a dead end, we came upon a tall sturdy gentleman standing in his driveway. Not wanting to U-Turn on private property, I began to back up until he came to our window and asked if we needed help. His face broke into an enormous smile at our dilemma and he generously invited me over to his back yard deck that towered over the ocean and beach below to see if the Lighthouse was visible. We began to chat about what brought us both to the area. He was from Holland and his wife Veronica’s family had purchased many of the houses on the street, this beautiful rental cottage being one.

The lighthouse was not to be seen this day, but we continued our friendly chat until John came in search of my whereabouts. Finding me on the deck, he joined the conversation. When Peter discovered John’s birthplace, he began the interesting story of the term “Yankee’s”, John being one. The Dutch given names, Jan (John) and Kees (Cornelius) were, and still are, common and the two sometimes are combined in a single name. The word Yankees is a variation that was used as a nickname for a Dutch-speaking American in Colonial times.

Peter invited us back another time to view the Lighthouse whenever the fog lifted and we parted ways, John handing him our calling card to keep in contact. If you ever find yourself wanting an amazing seaside beach house rental with a private beach in the Coos Bay Oregon area, we will put you in touch with Peter.

Onward to Cape Arago State Park. The overlook was veiled in fog so the view of the coastline wasn’t vast but it was awesome. The water was clear, the shaggy rocky coastline echoed sea life barking in the unseen distance. The 134 acres of property was given to the state by Louis and Lela Simpson in 1934. A nice picnic pavilion with parking sits next to the real flush toilet restrooms, flush being the operative word as it is something I appreciate over the vault toilets that are usually found in state parks. We enjoyed the fresh air and the short walk to the overlook. It’s a beautiful park with lots of hiking nearby.

One last beach stop, Sunset Bay Beach, in an attempt to let KatieBug run once more before she turned in for the night and we left in search of dinner. The enormous signs, duplicates at every beach, lead you to believe that enjoying the sand and ocean comes with way more drama than would reasonably be expected.

The wildlife sunning on the sand obviously had first consideration and had taken over the area, yellow plastic streamers barricading and surrounding nearly the entire beach.

Back to the Inn, KatieBug tucked away in bed with Animal Planet for company, John and I are off to eat Prime Rib at the Saw Blade Buffet at the Mill Casino.

After dinner we turned in early. A 3 block long zone in the downtown area, side by side canopy’s hovering over a multitude of epicurean delights known as the Coos Bay Farmers Market, which we planned to visit before leaving.

Restful night, up early, breakfast and the Farmers Market is calling our name. Veggies, flowers, crafts, soaps, jewelry, more veggies, more fruit, some young entrepreneurs selling handmade crafts.

The sweet smell of strawberries so luscious our noses commanded our bodies to plant themselves at the end of the lengthy line. They were so worth the wait! Three heaping baskets we devoured by the end of the following day.

Sustainable seafood was added to our shopping basket after tasting the sample

Entertainment provided by several solo street musicians.

One more Coos Bay stop, the Myrtlewood Factory Tour, to see how this stunning multihued hardwood is transformed into works of art. Although I had previously purchased two pieces for LilyPad , I could not refuse treating myself to a glimpse of how the pieces were made.

Cutting, sorting, hand finishing each piece, all was explained in the movie before we walked through the self-guided tour.

Most of the craftsmen were out to lunch but the tools and saws were in view as was a sample of a putter in various stages. John picked up a Myrtlewood putter and gave it a swing.

A bowl blank and some patterns were available to touch.

One person had returned and we watched him sand a piece of Myrtlewood. The saws that cut the huge trees were in another area but a sample blade was on the wall.

The gift shop had hundreds of bowls in a variety of sizes. I was tempted to take home one of the exquisitely crafted cutting boards but I wasn’t ready to give up something already aboard LilyPad…yet.  Until we leave Oregon, any item that falls out of favor may find itself in the donation box, to be replaced by a fabulous cutting board.

Food snuggly on ice in our cooler, we mapped our leisurely route back to Idleyld Park and our campground.

Half way home, we discovered our 12^th winery, adding to our continuing tour of Oregon wineries. Old Bridge Winery in the town of Remote was also the home of my second favorite ear bending character.

George Clarno has been married to Angie for 60 years. He’s been making wine, amid his other ventures, for 50 of them. The myriad of career choice directions spanned from owning a logging company, offering his services as a hunting guide, a taxidermy business, a saw shop business and even leading hunting expeditions in British Columbia before opening a winery. He also managed to squeeze in bagging elephants in Africa which he proudly displays on his tasting table.

The winery is across from the Sandy Creek Bridge historic landmark which was a pleasant stop for us last year while traveling through the area. It sits on Highway 42 and until the 1950’s, the covered bridge was a part of the main road.

George still has a commercial pilot’s license allowing he and his wife to make day trips to places of interest along the Pacific Northwest. An interesting conversationalist living life to the fullest.  We brought home a bottle of his locally famous Sweet Berry Wine.

My craving for chilly temperatures and diverse conversation fulfilled, we arrived at Lone Pine under skies marbled with hues of pink. Tomorrow brings preparations for another large group of campers, a wedding at our pavilion, laundry day and the same old, same old begins all over again. My “to do list” includes another escape in the near future. Looking forward to sleeping in our own bed tonight.

With the morning came cooler weather and temperature drop makes my cleaning tasks bearable. The smell from the vaults tickles my gag reflex when the heat rises. Thankfully it stays below tepid most of the season.

Our wedding group did not leave the campground in the same condition in which it was found. Our day was spent cleaning up dozens of partially melted jelly beans, pulling gooey half toasted marshmallows out of the forest bushes, cleaning several fire rings stuffed with unburnable trash and cigarette butts, cleaning off numerous alcohol and sticky punch spills from the pavilion floor, removing candle wax drippings from the picnic tables and lugging 6 full trash cans to the dumpsters. Pictures were sent to the BLM office to validate withholding partial deposit monies.

The winds blew in dampness and the mist kept us inside watching movies and relaxing for the day.  Morning brought another trip to town for supplies and by 5pm our new group moved into the campground. The next few days will be rinse and repeat.

Hooray!  A full day away from the campground. Took KatieBug to a doggy day care so we could spend the day visiting the Wildlife Safari Animal Sanctuary in Winston, have lunch and visit a winery. We took our kids to an open concept wildlife park in TX when they were very young and I have always wanted to return.  This was an adventure I was looking forward to enjoying.

The two hour drive through experience had excellent photo opportunities. Yes, it is like a zoo and not nearly as thrilling as our wild things meet-ups in Canada but I can’t seem to pass up close encounters with four legged furry creatures or two legged feathered creatures. Some of the animals are endangered, some are lifelong residents due to injuries and a few are in breeding programs for zoos. The San Diego Zoo had recently picked up a baby boy cheetah born to one of the safari’s females in the breeding program. The ambassador cheetah we saw at Henry’s Winery Crawfish Boil was from Wildlife Safari.

There were docents at several enclosures where the animals were not able to roam freely, either being a danger to other animals or others being a danger to them. Elephants, lions, tigers, bears and gibbons all had their own space. Bears and tigers had what appeared to be prison guard towers at their cattle guard entrances. The elephants were behind a huge bar and resting in the shade, lions and tigers were behind chain link and sitting in shade so getting a good shot was impossible.  All others were inside chain link along with us.

The hippo’s refused to pose.

The bears were cooling off in their pond but came out to investigate the passerby’s. The electrical wiring set up was similar to what we saw in Lake Louise Canada to discourage them from entering the soft side tent campground.

The endangered White Handed White Cheeked Gibbons swung lazily around their huge exercise area, their loud hooting conversations echoing throughout the sanctuary.

A large lively Bison heard provided us with many entertaining moments. Along with wallowing in the dust to deter biting flies and remove tufts of molted fur and stubbornly blocking the cars from passing by on the roadway, they would teasingly fake charge at other curious smaller animals keeping them at bay from feeders until they had their fill.

The giraffe stood in the road for a while before curiosity brought him over to peer at us through our open sun roof. Big brown eyes and a long tongue advancing towards our open roof a bit too fast for comfort, we closed up, he walked off to greet the car behind us.

Lots of exotic species, deer and antelope from India and Africa, some recognizable, some unknown to us. The color detailed animal brochure was extra so we used the newspaper guide and drive through map, looking up on the internet those that weren’t in the “free” guides.

Indian Axis and White Fallow Deer,

Several species of Oryx,

Damara Zebra and Watusi Cattle,

Muntjac and a South American Guanaco,

Our windows being rolled down seem to invite them close enough to hear their breathing…and to get a whiff of their pungent wildness.

A lazy endangered Southern White Rhino (square lipped rhinoceros) had nestled himself into a shaded mud puddle on the hill and had no intention of leaving his cool spot to investigate the cars. I was a bit surprised that he was unrestrained, having heard that they were aggressive. After reading about them, they are actually the most social of the species.

A Yak wandered by the Rhino, neither paying attention to one another.

The feeding zoo was amusing both for John doing the feeding, and me snapping pictures. Deer pushed their wet noses up against the windows until we rolled them down, then came at us from all directions to munch on the dried veggie nuggets that were included in the Groupon deal.

Up came the windows as soon as we saw the Ostrich running towards us. He looked to be on a mission and I know they can be determined to find something to peck if they think you have food.  Further on, a gathering of turkey’s and an Egyptian Duck.

Splendid looking African Crown Crane wandering around the lion enclosure outside the cages along with a funny fat black with white speckles chicken looking bird that waddled towards us to check us out.

Our last Safari stop was a walk through the Village. Petting zoo, camel rides, train ride, picnic area, children’s jungle gym play area, arachnid display, flamingo’s, a rescued tortoise, a sweet abandoned deer that had so many physical disabilities it could not be released, an albino peacock, a restaurant and a nice clean restroom.

Armed with a Groupon to Noah’s Ark, we stopped for lunch at the gigantic ark shaped structure across the entrance from the Wildlife Safari.

Upon entering, volumes of religious books greeted us; animal paintings covered the walls, some with lifelike heads protruding into the room. On the left, a small comfy room with sofa’s and Noah wall art, a fake mechanical Santa dressed as Noah telling the story of Noah and the Ark and displays of religious timelines. Inside the rest of the building is a religious trail, not exactly sure what it represented but we did not want to pay to discover.

The owner and operator, a friendly elder lady and the only employee, waited on us, cooked the burgers, took our money and cleared the tables. She was also the sales person for the religious wares and the ark tour tickets. She was older than John and I, neither of us imagining we could keep up with this spunky slight built entrepreneur. After lunch we went in search of the celebrated fermented grape.

Our 11^th winery stop this season, Wild Rose, was up another winding gravel road and down into a valley that ran along a creek. The tasting room, a large metal building, was banked by their grape vines and stretched out along the valley floor.

Tasting was gratis and we brought home another nice smooth red. The daughter of the original owners told us the story of the free salt shakers.

After her parents passed on, each of the children took what they wanted from the estate. The son thought it would be a nice gesture to give each visitor a set of salt shakers from their mother’s enormous collection and all agreed. Set by set the shakers became part of each family who enjoyed Wild Rose wine.

Overcast morning arrives, perfect weather for the start of clean up from our 150 Christian campers that occupied our campground for the last 5 days.

This group was our first taste of an unwelcome situation at our campground. Not from our campers but from drunk vagrants sleeping on unimproved BLM property.

I happened upon them while taking a walk with KatieBug on the upper trail. John was repairing a bridge rail about 500 yards back and I walked on enjoying the cool forest. I spotted a tent pitched off the trail and a drunk stumbled onto the trail asking where he could get spare food for he and his friend. After answering, I turned to walk back to the bridge and heard the deep throated barks of large dogs coming from the forest. I quickly walked back towards the bridge, met up with John and we both headed to LilyPad to call the Sheriff. Along with being publicly drunk and having loose dogs, they had made a campfire on the ground during our fire ban, a big no-no during dry season in this part of the country.

One of our camper dads marched across the street wearing a scowl and looking for action when he banged on our door. We had already called the Sheriff’s office and were waiting for them to arrive. The camper dad told us the men had come down looking for food and used foul language to frighten the kids away from the pavilion. Not accepting our apology or our answer of “Sheriff’s on his way”, he stomped down the road to Mill Pond and demanded Toby go and confront the men. We are here to inform, not to enforce, was Toby’s reply…same answer he got from us.

The Sheriff and 3 BLM Rangers arrived and moved the men and their wares into town 45 minutes away. Thinking all was settled, we took the cart back up the trail before dusk and low and behold, another drunken vagrant had set up camp in the same spot. Another trek up the mountain for the sheriff, he gave our newest arrival instructions to stay away from the campground and next morning be gone before noon. To our surprise and relief, he obliged and our nighttime returned to a peaceful quiet.

The bulbs I planted are beginning to bloom adding a nice touch of color to our entrance drive. My herbs are filling out nicely and we use them to perk up flavors on many of our meals.

Plans were arranged for a post 4^th of July Ice cream social at our pad with a few BLM hosts tonight after chores. Sort of a “Host Warming Gift” to our neighbors who, after a week of boon docking, were finally able to move into Mill Pond after Toby moved out. A few more hours of cleaning at Lone Pine and we will be ready for our next group of campers.

Another week of same old, same old…long haul to town for supplies, deserted as a ghost town between groups, clean up after the groups leave then hang around until it is time to do it all again. As the weeks pass, “tiny” living and being completely isolated is slowly making me lose the ability to control a full blown, hysterical state of uncontrollably shrieking “what was I thinking!?”   Danger Will Robinson, impending explosion.

Our group campground is again occupied, this time with a small group of adults, a few teens and 8 very well-mannered dogs. I am truly relieved. The Department of Fish and Wildlife have been building fish habitats along our Rock Creek area and are bringing in a total of 1,600 gigantic rocks to place in the creek. Half done, they traverse back and forth over our logging road depositing them above Rock Creek Campground on the creek side of the road.

Their presents make for more traffic per day than we normally see in a week. With the swimming hole and flush toilets across the street from the group campground, I am not happy with the thought of those heavily laden trucks taking advantage of the flat stretch of our road to catch up on time lost around the curves. Thankfully, one call to the Department of Fish and Wildlife and the truckers stopped to assure me they would slow down.

Our Tree Swallow babies have hatched, demanding bedside service from their exhausted parents who start providing a wide variety of bugs in the wee hours of the morning and continue on until after dusk.

One baby continually squawks and thrusts its head out the bird house hole when meals are incoming.

As July nears, we have less and less time to escape from Lone Pine. Soon our camp reservations will be back to back and our day off will consist of a quick trip for groceries in town, picking up the mail and hurrying back home.

Scrub day at the campground and watching The World Cup. That’s the plan for the day, plain and simple. Go U.S.A.

Our replacement neighbors for Mill Pond, Sandy and Dale, arrived June 30^th to replace Toby. They will remain dry camping next to us for a week until Toby, wife and family vacate the spot on July 7^th. Hope they remain for the balance of the season. Mill Pond workampers seem to frighten easily and wear out fast. Along with their arrival comes another social gathering to be held at Susan Creek Campground and hosted by our fearless leader Ariel. Signing our stipend forms will be combined with a Host Bar B Q and social gathering. Love me some social time!

John found a boomerang and decided to try out his skill.  Getting closer!

Trip to town in the pouring rain for a non-emergency vet visit and account set up, bath and mani/pedi for KatieBug, and a movie for us, our first time in a theater this year. John and I agreed…Jersey Boys show in Vegas, “Like Wow”. Jersey Boys at the movies, beyond “Fab”. Eastwood did an excellent job and even with the “R” rated words, enjoyable entertainment for those who “remember when”.

This morning we will surely get a soaking while cleaning the campground.  Rain refuses to let up.  Our warm up/dry off afterwards comes with a bit of World Cup action. Disappointing loss, only one chance left. That far from home, you would think the U.S.A. would be seriously charged up by the constant chanting of “U.S.A.” from the stands.

Very energetic boys in this weekend’s group. Flying through the campground on their bikes and scooters, kick ball game after camp set up, off to rifle shooting practice early morning, hiking Sawmill Trail and swimming afterwards. The chaperons will enjoy their quiet time tonight around the campfire. The church group was a dad/child campout, one being a son and dad from Fort Worth now relocated to Roseburg. We have been very lucky, four out of four groups so far have been respectful and left the camp in the condition we requested.

Hey, hey, up early today, get that mop and clean! Going to be a scorcher today…projected 95 degrees. Somehow I knew being in Oregon would cause unseasonably hot temperatures. It followed me to Alaska and now Oregon…I’m doomed to be the cause of extreme heat where ever we land. Scrub that floor, blow those leaves, wash that sink, stop for a breath and listen. No 21^st century noise. The only sound in the campground is the wind swishing leaves high above me and the tapping sound of pine needles somersaulting down and bouncing off picnic table tops.

Weird Indian Pipe sprouting up from the decaying stumps of pines. The plant depends on both the dead trees and fungus for survival. A parasite of both the fungus and the stump but not giving anything back to either, it does offer a food source for bumble bees. If picked, it turns black very quickly and can stain your hands like a dye.

Red Banded Polypore pop out of tree stumps throughout our campground.

Our fearless leader Ariel just announced that she will be leaving soon for a well-deserved year’s sabbatical. She will be missed!