Breakfast at Idleyld Lodge on this lovely cool morning with our Susan Creek Campground Host friends. They are the first hosts to depart from our group of BLM campground hosts but we will meet up again in Corsicana, TX, their next workamp position, in the land of “best fruitcake in the country” baked by Collin Street Bakery.

The owners of Idleyld Lodge, Ron and his wife, are owner/operators of this blended bed and breakfast/café/bar and event venue. Ron is a friendly unconventional entertaining character, a real go getter. They purchased this Lodge last year just before we arrived for our hosting position at Mill Pond Campground and have nearly made it into the black, an amazing feat in this blink and you’ll miss it, almost a town, in Idleyld Park Oregon.

The four of us, and a friendly tag along camper couple from Susan Creek, dined together enduring the playful taunts from Ron at every possible verbal opportunity. He memorized every order, teased us by purposely mixing up each order as he repeated them back, then delivered to us all exactly what we ordered. After breakfast, he broke out his card tricks, amazing us and everyone else in the café. When asked about his “magic balls” (we were told to ask) he produced three red sponge balls and was able to transfer them back and forth between he and guests, through closed fists, with just a tap. A most pleasurable, engaging and delicious breakfast.

Back to the campground to prep for our incoming group. After chores, an email from Ray and Karen inviting us to a joint farewell host lunch at Elmer’s in Roseburg was accepted with just a confirming mention to John. Any social time is eagerly sought after and a chance to spend an enjoyable few more hours with Ray and Karen before we all head our separate ways was a priority event.

Soon our flock of cheerful campground hosts will end their volunteer stints and go forth, each in their own directions. Ray and Karen volunteered down from us at Eagle Rock last year and hosted the other group campground this year.  Ken and Will, hosts for Eagle Rock this year, and Dyana hosting at Tyee, were all gathered together by invitation from Ray for a farewell lunch at Elmer’s diner in Roseburg and the best of us showed up to chat and wish each other safe travels.

The journey to Roseburg, being 45 minutes away from our campground and the closest major town, gave us the opportunity to pick up supplies and check out the few remaining wineries left on the Roseburg Oregon Wine Tour Circuit.

After several people told us we must stop at Hill Crest Winery, the oldest Estate Winery in Oregon, we detoured from grocery shopping and drove to our 14^th Oregon winery.

Not ever having ventured out during harvest time, we had no clue how they kept the birds from eating the grapes until we opened the car door and heard loud booming shots echoing from every direction about 20 seconds apart. Being a Texan at heart, logic told me gun shots meant hunting so I paused with the door open, told John “I hope someone isn’t shooting in our direction” and bolted into the tasting room. We all had a good laugh when the wine hostess told us about the air cannons used to scare the birds off the grapes. Impressive wine tasting room, friendly dogs, beautiful drive out. Wine likes and dislikes are very personal and neither of us enjoyed their offerings so nothing returned with us to LilyPad. That being said, Hill Crest Winery would not have lasted this long if it didn’t have a large following of wine connoisseurs, many entering while we tasted and were taking home cases.

Last, but certainly not least, was the very charming Melrose Winery, its friendly wine hostess and the pack of sweet lazy fur family members. Great blends of interesting reds, happily chatting hostess, warm inviting tasting room, we took home another impressive red and paused to pet pups before departing.

The winery overlooked a peaceful grassy lawn that served as an event area and tables were placed outside on the porch to enjoy a glass or a bottle of wine or microbrewery beer.

John was in need of additional quantities of Kruse Farms awesomely delicious tomatoes. Picking direct from their fields, we haven’t tasted tomatoes this full of flavor and firm to the bite since our bicycling trips along Chico’s farming field roads back before we were married, over 42 years ago. Tomato sandwiches are on the menu for every one of our lunches next week.

Musical notes floated around the Market, accentuated with banjo pickers and strumming guitars while the shoppers carefully chose their produce. We have enjoyed purchasing the wonderful fresh and flavorful veggies and fruits from Kruse Farms Market, one of the best produce shopping experiences in Oregon.

Back at Lone Pine, our campers are settled and the next few days are ours to enjoy, minus the few minutes a day it takes us to sanitize the vaults, replace toilet paper, smile hugely and repeat continually that we are at their service for whatever they may need to make their camping experience enjoyable.

This being our last month, we planned to visit the few remaining easy and moderate hikes left on our dwindling list of Rogue-Umpqua Scenic Byway waterfalls. An early start immediately after chores took us down an extended dusty dirt road that brought us to an easy footpath stroll to Warm Springs Falls, said to be remarkably consistent with its 60 foot flow fall. Ribbit was hidden under dust upon arrival.

The foot path leading to the falls was lined with gigantic wild Rhododendrons that bloom June and July.

The Warm Springs Creek thunders over a columnar basalt formation into a mossy arena below. Being a football field away did not deter the spray rising from the tumbling cascade and dampening us with a cooling mist.

This being my birthday, I chose to revisit my favorite waterfall, Clearwater Falls. The path was permeated with soft soil and thousands of intertwined roots stretch across the walkway and snake into the crystal clear waters that flow from the falls. The waterfall appears to be erupting from a wall of fallen tree trunks, steal gray rocks and green mossy roots.

The waters that pool below are, in places, four feet deep but so clear your eyes believe it has no depth at all.

Home again, home again, to bid adieu to our outgoing group.  Enjoyable church gathering of families that departed leaving the campground as all should, taking nothing but pictures, leaving nothing but footprints. Sanitizing and cleaning out the fire pits was the only chore required and as they drove out, they handed John a personalized Thank You card for keeping the campground spotless and providing them with the friendliest of camping experiences. Times like these truly make hosting a worthwhile volunteer adventure.

Nighttime draws near.  I am positioned near the edge of our driveway, rocking in my rocker lawn chair, gazing up at the rapidly darkening daylight sky’s, black little bat wings fluttering at sonic speeds narrowly missing my head, more still awakening and whizzing sporadically past to begin their nightly munching on the zillions of miniscule flying snacks speckling the air.

The stars begin their appearance, one piercing light after another until the sky is a sparkling mass of radiant twinkles. Slowly our group of deer step from the wooded area that surrounds us and strut boldly onto the expansive gravel parking lot. They pause, watching me for movement, their eyes luminous in the near dark, then continue on across, bounding over the wooden rails, to the ball field with its green blades of grass still growing from their nightly watering that will continue until the season ends. Not a man-made sound is heard until our air conditioner breaks the silence.  Peace and tranquility among natures forest creatures in the middle of the Umpqua National Forest.

Gorgeous day for our next road trip, sunny but cool, fluffy white marshmallow clouds dropping shadows over the tree tops. This time we are taking LilyPad, Ribbit bringing up the rear. First overnight will be Portland, OR and Liz had several must-do plans.

Our only disappointing excursion this family time was the Portland Italian Festival. Mangiamo was not happening for these three Italians. All of us were somewhat dismayed by the passing off of pizza, spaghetti and gelato, totally unimaginative and cliché foods, as Italian festival fare. Our conclusion was that there isn’t much of an Italian population in Portland, at least not the verbally expressive sort that demand excellent food and make up “la famiglia mia”. Nothing else but food and music, the singer being just OK, we left within the hour.

Remembering last year’s visit, we were all looking forward to the Portland Saturday Market. Humongous, a neighborhood unto itself, original art, crafts, music, food and a dancing water’s fountain for the mini kids, a you-must-do-this stop when in Portland. The sound of Tam Tam’s followed us around the Market, intermittently interrupted by guitars, street singers and a few horn solo’s .

Along the Market path we passed Portland’s VooDoo Doughnut Shop but the line stretched around the block and our former experience with aching teeth and tummies caused us to veer away and take in the rest of the expansive Market offerings before its closing.

So many choices for dinner but The Old Spaghetti Factory won out for its reasonable prices, gluten free choices and being nearby when the hunger bug bit. Back to LilyPad for our nights rest in anticipation of an early morning departure for our final family reunion destination, Lewis and Clark Golf and RV Park in Astoria.

Lewis and Clark Expedition spent the winter of 1805-1806 at Fort Clatsop, a small log structure south and west of modern-day Astoria. It was abandoned after a long hard winter and the fort is now an historical park.

Astoria was named after investor John Jacob Astor. His American Fur Company founded Fort Astoria in 1811 as its primary fur-trading post and was the first permanent US settlement on the Pacific coast. Located on the south shore of the Columbia River, the city is served by the Port of Astoria and is a deep-water port capable of hosting cruise ships.

A small town but full of fascinating history, the appealing quality for Liz was its movie making history. The Oregon Film Museum, on the National Register of Historic Places, opened in 2010 and is housed in the old Clatsop County Jail. The building was used in a famous scene in the Goonies movie and its opening coincided with the 25^th anniversary of the film. The museum houses artifacts from the large assortment of movies filmed in Astoria including Short Circuit, The Black Stallion, Kindergarten Cop, Free Willy, Free Willy 2, The Adventure Home, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles III, Benji the Hunted, The Ring Two, Into the Wild, The Guardian, Twilight and National Lampoon’s Animal House.

The Goonies, her favorite iconic cult classic, was filmed on location in Astoria in 1985. The Walsh family home still stands and the owners allow walk-ups and picture taking on the outside. Our families first stop on our togetherness outing was the Walsh House. As we chatted while taking Kodak Moments, the owner watered plants in the front yard seemingly oblivious to our existence.

The house was on Liz’s Bucket List and the group all joined in the visit, possibly because the span of ages were all familiar with the movie, possibly because it was a beautiful day and a walk outdoors was an ideal outing. Whatever the reason, it was well suited for a joint adventure of ages that spanned nearly 8 decades and allowed us to chat happily among ourselves Italian style.

Our lunch break happened at a small restaurant, T Paul’s Urban Café, not usually able to cater to a group of 11 but they managed to seat us all together in the back area near a beautiful salt water tank and we all bubbled over with conversation while enjoying our meals.

Most went back to the beach house, some went in search of seafood, our threesome scouted the town for coffee and activities that were open on this usually closed-on-Monday town. The Blue Scorcher Bakery Café was a unique find, scrumptious bakery goods, very Oregonian with gluten free and sugar free offerings, typical of what we have found in the small bakeries throughout Oregon. Greatly impressive was the intricate foam designs floating in our coffee.

Front door was closed but back door was wide open, so we stuck our heads inside to check out their artistic wares. Dozens of yarns, all in various stages of the dye process, being turned into intriguing works of art.

My mother’s side of the family consists primarily of opinionated independent women, the characteristically Italian hand gesturing non-stop talking kind, sometimes articulating all at the same time, resulting in the men becoming verbally challenged by our sheer numbers and volume. Luckily the few we do have are all good natured and if they have an opinion, they wisely keep it to themselves when the female clan is in session. With only two of our Grandmother’s five children remaining, Auntie El and Aunt Susie, a gathering was long overdue. This was the first time all four of the female cousins had assembled since our beloved matriarch passed away a decade ago.

We met at my cousin’s beach front house and she rented the house next door so we could all meet up and celebrate joyously with much vino and an abundance of excellent Italian food.

Our newest family member, four month old Emilio, named after our grandfather, was welcomed into our clan.

Two glorious days of family togetherness, so glad that Liz came to share in the family celebration. All those that had gone on before were remembered with wine glasses raised in toasts and so dearly missed. A foggy sunset after dinner from the back porch of the beach house, Family, Wine, Italian food…Life is Good.

Morning arrived, hugs, farewells to family and promises to gather again soon. With Liz’s vacation nearing an end, we planned visits to several points of interest along the journey back to Eugene Oregon, Liz’s last night with us before our return to Lone Pine.

Cannon Beach was a fun ocean side village with lots of shopping and a wonderful Farmers Market to explore.  Vintage structures, funny sayings on top of garbage cans and lots of dog water bowls outside the boutiques to show which were dog friendly.

A sad realization was reached when our drive along the foggy shoreline did not reveal any Puffins, my favorite bird.  The rocky shore along Seaside is a well known nesting site.

Although there will be more coastal areas in which to search for Puffins in my future, I was excited about the prospect of sharing the experiencing with my daughter.   We settled for admiring a fine-looking six foot high solid wood Puffin carving.

Tillamook Cheese Factory is a must visit if in the area.  The factory is self guided but interesting with many displays of vintage cheese making equipment.  If you catch the workers in a friendly mood, they will wave back at you.

The tour ends with you being offered several yummy samples of cheese.  Exiting, you must walk past the ice cream and few walk on without making a purchase.

With LilyPad packed up and ready to roll, we left for Eugene and began cramming as much into the last few hours of mother/daughter/dad togetherness as humanly possible.

Within a four block radius we found enough to satisfy Liz’s appetite for last minute vacation-nearing-an-end anxiety.

Eugene Wine Sellers offered wine tasting and samples of dark chocolate Limoncello infused fudge. Oh so delectable.

Across the street, The Wandering Goat, another coffee house catering to an attention-grabbing collection of human pin cushions with colorful tattooed skin, the employees closely resembling their patrons.

In search of a nearby local brewery, we happened upon Ninkasi Brewing Company, sampling what read as interesting. Dark, thick, heavy stout with a chocolate essence was my tasting choice. Not the dark chocolate flavor I expected so I passed on a glass. John abstained, Liz chose an IPA. We relaxed on the porch until all was consumed.

Cattycorner was Natural Grocery, a small health food store. I would have loved more time to peruse its shelves but the growling in our tummies could not be silenced.

Across the street the Pizza Research Institute caught our attention. Quirky, eclectic, wood fired original pizza creations complimented the jumbled collection of vintage plates. It was very warm inside, the fans not creating enough breeze to encourage the flies to move on. What we ordered was not what arrived but the salad was colorful and included unusual veggies, the dressing was amazing and with our pizza, both filled us. Liz and I tried dry soda, a low sugar fruit infused bubbly water which will be added to my fridge whenever I come across it in stores.

On the way back to Ribbit, Liz and I were beyond delighted when we turned the corner past the brewery and came upon Blairalley Vintage Arcade. Immediately upon pulling open the door, high pitched squeals of glee interrupted the dark quiet room and when our eyes adjusted to the dark, they were met with twinkling pin ball lights dancing across every inch of the walls. Only a quarter per play, even John was drawn into the games but Liz and I raced each other through most of the quarters and John didn’t grab fast enough to spend his share.

Santa Cruz California’s arcade and I were intimate partners in the fast pace solo entertainment of pin ball skill for most of my teen years and continued on long after John and I were married. Their amusement worth has kept me fascinated for most of my life and, strangely, was passed on in DNA to my children. Slightly strange thing to pass on to ones offspring.

Liz’s vacation was at an end and when she was settled into the waiting room at the airport awaiting departure, we continued on to Lone Pine to ready the campground for a new group. Unpack, plug in and relax into a peaceful nights sleep.

My Verilux “happy light” usually wakes me each morning but this morning our welcome back a.m. was full of noise and excitement! Tree limb trimmers converged on our parking lot bringing in huge equipment to take down and chip multiple limbs intruding into electrical wire space along our logging road. The crew stayed to chat for a while before continuing on down the road.

Loud whap-whap-whap nose coming from above our heads and the sheriff’s department helicopter dropped down from the sky and landed in our field. Small with no doors, the helicopter flies around the area in pot patrol expeditions. Minus heaters and doors makes for 50 degree working conditions so they drop down and land to warm up and join with their fuel truck.

They drew crowds from both campgrounds and were allowing a special treat, parents were able to photo their kids seated at the controls.

An hour later they were up, up and away.

Soap, Scrub, Power Spray vault toilets, Scrub, Wipe, Power Blow pavilion and tables before our next group arrives for their enjoyable camping experience presented by yours truly, Lone Pine Group Campground Hosts Extraordinaire.

A small blip in our same old, same old was collecting the mail, always a welcome diversion.

Just received a book from a friend and former work associate of John’s. It is a book of short interconnecting stories, the main theme being “perspective” but family and small town living followed in close pursuit. After our whirlwind former week’s events, a good read from an actual printed-on-paper book, grasped firmly in hand, with real tangible pages to turn, is a rare treat. With so little space, most of our reading material is either on, or scanned onto, the computer.

I pause on the subject of perception as it differs between the two humans living in the box on wheels. Throughout the last two years of our journey, we have had little contact with family or friends. If we workamped near family, we were so busy with our duties, we didn’t visit as often as if we had vacationed nearby for a week and simply spent the time relaxing together. John thinking we had visited many relatives while my thoughts leaned towards not enough time spent visiting.  Our living responsibilities, which includes care of our furry family member, grocery shopping, laundry, continual motorhome repairs, car repairs, workamping duties, the same things that happen in everyone’s lives, interrupted social time. Constantly existing, that nagging cue stubbornly wedged in my brain, is that this is our way of life, never a relaxing vacation.

Although John enjoys living like a hermit, I enjoy life as part of a social group, something instilled deep into my being since childhood. Forcing a social gathering onto folks that have chosen living “hermit style” is not comfortable for them or me so camp host meet-ups are rare. Perception is directly related to ones own nature. I am certain that we will end the “continual movement” stage of our retirement days and settle somewhere. The “where” or “when” is still to be determined.

Robin Williams died today. My all-time favorite comedian and movie star. Sad that someone so vibrant and talented was so troubled…I cried.

Last night Oregon showed us a bit of its temper. Inside a 10 minute period, hardly time enough to store light fly-away things lying around the outside of LilyPad, a storm blew through. Strong winds blew limbs, pine-cones and debris, smacking them up against the side of our motorhome. The top of our motorhome garage was bombarded with huge splats of rain sounding like a baseball hitter practicing. Fire starting thunder lit up the sky, our temperature plummeted from 100 to 70 and the power went off. Somewhat daunting but with immediate action being needed, not enough time to fret. Dashed around securing our things, unplugged cords and started the generator, checked on the conditions of the campground and made sure our group was safe. They took it in stride, gathering under the pavilion with flashlights, socializing and enjoying the cool evening. A multitude of large and small old dead branches fell. Clean up is going to be a female dog.

John checked our fluids in Ribbit and found an unexpected “it’s always something” surprise. He thought it was debris from the storm until he removed the green moss and found nibbled wires. Our upcoming road trip with daughter Liz to visit family would have suffered greatly had it not been found. My hero handyman fixed it and we are good to go.

The lack of fine dining in the area has encouraged us to explore hole-in-the-wall diners. One such place is The Narrows Tavern. More of a bar that serves food than a restaurant. John looked it up on our favorite food review sites and talked me into stopping for a menu. Sitting on the ground near the front door with his back holding up the side of the building, was a young fellow with a handmade cigarette, smoke floating lazily out his mouth, smiling ear to ear while continually making an effort to stay sitting upright. He looked at Ribbit and threw his head back laughing, his mouth stretched open wide. By the time John exited the bar with the menu, he was joyously singing “Jeremiah was a Bullfrog” and energetically waving both his arms in a cheerful good-by.

Picked up  Liz at the quaintly petite Eugene airport passing hay fields, their wares boxed  and stacked in the fields like gigantic straw walls erratically placed in the distance awaiting delivery to local farms.  Must be this years fashion is square, as last years hay bales were rolled.

We dined at Cornucopia, an eclectic little diner that specializes in gluten free and locally grown choices with an enormous array of microbrewery offerings. Our overnight was spent at our go-to, first year water damage repair living quarters, La Quinta Inn. After dinner, our just rewards was a bucket list cross off for Liz. The VooDoo Doughnut “Old Dirty Bastard”. Glazed doughnut topped with chocolate, dipped in crushed Oreos and drizzled with peanut butter. Splitting three ways didn’t eliminate the knots in our tummies or the sugar toothaches.

Drove around the downtown area site-seeing before we each stretched out in our own queen pillow top bed heaven for the rest of the night.

Early rise for the five hour drive to my dad’s home in Brookings.  Showing off our favorite haunts, Coos Bay for Market Day delights with some foot stompin’ banjo music was first on our coastal tour.

Next, a stop at our favorite cranberry sweets store in Bandon after passing several Ocean Spray cranberry bogs and a repeat stop at Misty Meadows outside Bandon for locally grown and packed berry butter/jam/jelly so Liz can give a bit of Oregon as souvenirs.

Lunch at the Fish Market Cafe, a smidgen of exercise walking through the Bandon Farmers Market but completely erased the positive by having samples of smoked salmon cheese cake and gluten free coconut fudge. Music, fresh sea air and back in the car for the next leg of our Oregon coastal tour.  The view along the coast is amazing no matter how many times we make the drive.

Arrived at Dad’s and spent a relaxing night with family, one more trip next morning to the mountain hideaway Brandy Peak Distillery for tastings and stashing more yummy Blackberry Liqueur in the car followed by a long walk until sunset on my favorite Brookings beach, Harris State Beach.

Next morning, hugs and farewells before the long trek home to Lone Pine for our overnight.  Lumber mills, Oregon’s main industry, are casually scattered along the water inlets.

This being fishing season, one tiny vintage fishing village had an enticing Kodak Moment prepared for a mother/daughter photo, along with a convenient parking space.

As we neared the home stretch, Roseburg area having 32 wineries, we happened upon Girardet Winery, one we had not yet visited.  Nothing special in the tastings but their fields were full of picture perfect plump dark purple grapes.

Arrived at LilyPad in time to show off Lone Pine Campground to Liz, its slightly cool evening serenity with Rock Creek gently flowing past mossy giant trees bending over the flow and shading the pathways.  Our little slice of heaven.

After breakfast John suggested we give Rock Creek Road another chance to show us the stunning scenic top-o-the-mountain view, this time minus the fog. So far, so good. Clear and cool.

A pause along the way to check out the piles of rocks and logs on the side of the road. The salmon spawning habitat is coming along nicely; the only area currently completed being used by groups of campers as a cooling float pool.

Halfway to the top of the mountain, we stopped to watch the creek tumbling over a 10 foot drop. An un-named but noteworthy waterfall.

When we reached the top, a thick cloud of mist was moving over the mountain tops and descending on us from all directions. Another attempt to view the expansive valley foiled by incoming fog.

This afternoon we got the expected but dreaded phone call, John’s mother passed away in her sleep at 102 years old. John and I were truly blessed to have her with us on this earth for so long. We had two days to find a kennel for KatieBug, pack our bags and clean the group campground. Early rise for the two hour drive to Eugene, 15 hour travel time on three different planes to reach Florida, pick up our rental car before driving to John’s brothers house to sleep. Up early for the memorial service, lunch afterwards and some family time. One full day of visiting with family. Again with the crack of dawn rising, 18 hour travel time on three different planes for the return to Eugene then another two hour drive back to Lone Pine just in time to clean the campground after a large family reunion group departed. Two hours later our large wedding group arrived. Getting too old for this kind of exhaustion. Sleep came the minute our heads hit our pillows.

Our campground group in progress allowed me to use a phrase I have been keeping on the sidelines for a “just in case” opportunity, this being Oregon and all. Deadhead bohemianism mixed with Mayberry traditionalism…polite 60’s hippie-ish in dress and appearance except for the numerous dreadlock tresses, ears sporting large lobe buttons, imaginative body wrapping tattoos and an assortment of facial piercings. Typical of the folks we see in Eugene and Portland.

This group is a wedding party, all tent campers, reserving our group campground and Mill Pond’s pavilion for three days. Arrived last night, we awoke to the sounds of tam-tam’s, familiar to us from our travels to Mount Royal Park in Montreal Canada where connoisseurs and suitors gather to enjoy the pulsing percussion craft.

The bride had not a drop of “bridezilla”, apparent by her calm response to us informing her that the flush toilets, the reason Mill Pond pavilion had been rented, were not working and water would be off most of the day. One flush toilet was gratefully available during the wedding and we directed those needing potties to our minimal vault toilets, a.k.a. porcelain thrones sitting atop huge smelly pits.

Her hubby-to-be was a sociable composed red-headed ZZ-Top and they made an impressively “together” couple. Music floated throughout the campground as nearly every site had musical instruments lovingly being played by their owners. They erected the honeymoon suite, an impressive handmade teepee, in my favorite campsite.

Pleasant 80’s during the day, low 50’s at night with that coolness continuing on until early morning. I am ready to leave the solitude and physically demanding work but wishing I could take the weather with us.

A stress-free day was our number one goal for today. After chores, we drove to the one Roseburg Bureau of Land Management campground we had not yet visited, Cavett Creek. Typical back roads highway, winding uphill and down, two skinny lanes that drop off sharply along the edges to the creek below. Cavett Creek Campground is hilly, considerably more private than most of Roseburg BLM campgrounds and rests alongside Cavett Creek. We drove in, stopped to chat with the hosts, hiked to the day use area that overlooked the swimming hole below before climbing down to the sandy beach. Truly impressive campground.

Homebound, we drove through Cavett Creek Covered Bridge. Because of the easily accessible timber, in the 1930’s there were over 300 covered bridges in Oregon. Covering the bridges extended the life of the bridge and they required very little maintenance. Cavett Creek Covered Bridge was built in 1943, is 70 feet long and spans Little River. Douglas County has 53 covered bridges still standing and soon, our day off will be devoted to visiting those close to our campground.

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!

The morning was clear and no chance of rain or clouds were in the forecast. The plan was to drive to Crater Lake and stop to hike up to a few waterfalls on the way home.  On the way, a relaxing breakfast at Steamboat Inn, preferred Inn for fly fishing aficionados and “the narrows” a favorite fishing spot on the Umpqua River.

Crater Lake, a wonder worth visiting each time we are in the area, did not disappoint. Crystal clear skies, albeit cold, produced unbelievably blue waters. The entrance to the lake is several miles away from the rim of the sunken liquid blue waters of the imploded volcano.

The drive passes through the 7,700 year old Pumice Desert before climbing up to a 15 degree drop in temperature for the initial glance of the big blue. Pumice spewed from the erupting Mount Mazama creating a center void and layering hot ash 100 feet deep over a 30 mile radius killing every form of life. The volcano void, over time, filled with water and became the lake.

This time the visitor center was open and we stopped to view the Crater Lake Video, updated from the 1980’s to its current 2010 version.

Several Ranger spokespersons, who appeared on the video, were greeting visitors at the Lodge the day we visited.

The 40 feet of yearly snowfall still covered much of the grounds and hiking up to one of the viewpoints was a challenge as we had to make stairs in the snow to ascend the towering icy hill.

Scanning the crater’s rim in every direction, the image was amazingly awesome.

We drove along the brim road before stopping at the Lodge’s Great Hall and caught the view over the valley.  Spattering’s of tiny violets dappled the roadway between the heavy coat of winter white.

The entrance opened to an intimate miniature of the fireplace that graced the dining area fireplace.

Warm and inviting, we sat in the Great Hall by the enormous roaring gas log fire to enjoy some “grandpa’s hot chocolate” (cocoa with a kick) and berry cobbler.

After our sweet treat, we stopped to enjoy the view on the Lodge porch in comfy ladder back rockers.  The overlook gave us an up close and personal view of Wizard Island, etching the awesome blue into our daydreams should we never pass this way again.

Just short of exiting the park, knotty pines lined both sides of the road. The knots are defects in the pine but are highly sought after for decoration. In Alaska, we found an entire store devoted to products made of knotty pine.

Noon came and went, enough energy left in us for a few hikes, we returned to the Umpqua Rogue Scenic Highway and were homeward bound. The only fuel stop between Crater Lake and LilyPad had excessive prices. You cannot pump your own gas in Oregon and the man asked if we were sure we wanted to “fill it up”. Supply and demand, tank almost empty, we needed fuel.

Stopped to take a picture from the Bridge Over Umpqua Waters, upstream and down, just shy of our first falls hiking trail.

Watson Falls was a moderate hike although John had told me it was easy. I got half way before refusing to continue on up over the rock studded steep uphill path.  I plan to give it another try when I haven’t spent the entire day climbing around snowy embankments.  John climbed up far enough to get a shot of the falls.

Whitehorse Falls was adjacent to the parking lot of the Whitehorse campground. No hike at all, just a short walk across the elevated wooden deck. Two teens were swimming in the hole below the falls so I climbed down to get a shot from the tree in front of the pool and another below the falls.

Clearwater Falls was a short hike on an easy trail with the creek following us along the way. It was the fullest of all the falls we have seen so far. John took KatieBug up to the top of the falls while I stayed below to enjoy the awesome view and misty cool spray.

Water seeped, sprayed, dribbled and gushed from the moss, wood and rock that stretched across the expansion of the overhang before plummeting into the deep pool below.

Days end had arrived. Campground is quiet. Very busy day, goodnight to all.

Early rise to check on our group campers and restock the vaults before heading into the “big city” for the long awaited Henry’s Estate Crawfish Boil Fundraiser. The three of us drove for over an hour in hopes of some great music and spicy-good mud bugs. Arriving, we park and pay to get inside. A variety of kids stuff to keep them occupied and great music by Blue Collar Band.

The smell of pulled pork and a faint whiff of crawfish met us at the entrance. The owner’s pesky male dog kept bothering KatieBug throughout our visit. The only time it disappeared is when the cheetah from Wildlife Animal Sanctuary was led through the outdoor dining area to a spot beside the stage.

There were several cool classic cars on display.

The anticipated crawfish were a disappointing let down. Spice so weak that it was hardly noticeable and it left the potato and corn completely unflavored. Oh well, this is Oregon, not the good ol’ South. Guess we should have known but we held onto hope.  Missing Texas big time.

When we left, we stopped at the Lighthouse Bakery which, oddly enough, is attached to the United States Postal Office building out in the middle of nowhere. It came as quite a surprise when we opened the door to find an organic café, organic bakery, organic produce, herbs and spices along the back wall, hand-made ice cream and an excellent selection of non-toxic personal care products. They have a wood fired pizza oven with an amazing choice of organic ingredients which we will return to try on our next visit to the winery tour area.

After a yummy piece of carrot cake, we drove the dusty winding side road to Misty Oaks Winery for a tasting. Nice family-run business. Friendly chat with the other couples tasting. John brought home a white, not my favorite but I have a stash of reds from which to choose.

Long ride home and check in with the group campground campers to take care of any immediate needs before campfire smoke chases me indoors.  Watching mama and papa nesting by LilyPad’s door and a little “feet-up and wine time” before sleep.

Awoke to the promise of another “It’s Always Something”.  This week’s problem suggested a high dollar item.  Back to the forums to check out why our one year old chassis batteries were not holding a charge.  Ran the engine, no clue why there is a drain. Hope that someone answers our plea for help.  Don’t know what we would do without those forums but I’m really missing the ease of picking up the phone to call a repair man.

Our group campers are gone and clean-up will begin as soon as the rains cease.  Next few days must be spent affixed to LilyPad preforming the never ending multitude of chores that are required for this lifestyle and not ever thought about when living in a house.  Rains end and clean-up begins.  Next bunch arrives in the morning.  Not even time enough for a little pity party.

Couple of days to clean, couple of days to organize LilyPad, gorgeous sunshiny morning and the call of the wineries tug at our soles and our souls. Glaser Winery also makes liquors so we planned our travels around a grouping of three, Glaser being the anchor.

As it happened, of the cluster we chose, Glaser was first. Sitting riverside, with an enormous porch overlooking the quiet flow of the Umpqua, the tastings were not free but generous and the cost was subtracted if you made a purchase.

The winery/distillery is owned by Sandra and Leon Glaser and worked by the couple, their son, and daughter Jessica, who served us.

The surroundings bring a smile to your face as soon as you open the car door. Starting with the lanky collie a.k.a. our friendly welcome committee, the spotless chicken enclosure behind us, white geese lazing on the lawn, a river rock raised stone pond, all sights reminiscent of Walton’s Mountain. The exceptional metal statue of a leaping frog perched ready to splash into the pond added a pleasant whimsical touch to the setting. The large two story country main-home, situated within a few steps of the winery cottage, brought completion to the scene. If I ever thought about owning a winery, my mind’s eye would have pictured this setting. A few sips of their coffee and butterscotch liquor and I was addicted. Feeling a little too warm and fuzzy, John drove us to our next winery.

Palotai Winery, owned by Hungarian winemaker Gabor Palotai, began this small lot winery in 2003. Defecting to the US from communist controlled Hungary in 1983, he never forgot his Hungarian roots and the winemaking lessons taught him by his grandfather. Aged in Hungarian oak, he lovingly tends his four acres and believes in the “old world” style of winemaking. The winetasting room is a small corner of his barn/bottling room.

Through no fault of Gabor’s, the winery had just reverted back to him. Our excellent luck as he made available his older aged private stock for purchase until the release of his current harvest, now being aged. Behind the barn, the Umpqua flows peacefully by, seats placed near the banks for tasters to enjoy the view with the wine.

Becker Winery was full of pleasant surprises. It didn’t start with the long drive up a dusty road, or the informal unadorned building that housed the tasting room and not with the ordinary country view from their overly warm veranda but with the flavorful authentic wine.

I remarked that none of the wines on this day’s tastings had any “hints” of flavor. Seeking confirmation, John stated the obvious, “men don’t do well with “hints”. Hints were not an oversight with Becker wines. Even John noticed the hints in each tasting. He also noticed the giant mound of friendly black Lab/Newfoundland stretched out across the cool tile floor in the tasting room, the salami/cheese/crackers on the bar and the happily chatty and informative owner.

Grown without irrigation, the vines, now 30 feet deep, produced true palatable hints of superb flavor. Heavily circled on our winery map, we will pass this way again.

On our return home, we stopped to visit former host friends Ray, Karen and their Schnauzer Baxter, planted at Eagle View, the other BLM Group Campground. Just down the road from Eagle View is Tyee, another BLM day use campground, and we stopped to visit our new host friend Diane. Wonderfully pleasant weather for an enjoyable winery tour and social visits to our BLM host associates.

Back home, our little troop of dive bombers drained one of the gallon feeders and began ferociously attacking each other for the dinner seating at the second feeder.

One sits perched near the small feeder watching us while guarding the feeder.

Early morning rise for our trip to the “big city” of Roseburg for supplies and an informative stop at the Social Security office. I am having very mixed feelings about being old enough to collect.

My little hummers are peacefully sharing breakfast as we exit LilyPad.

Stopping for breakfast, gas and groceries, then returning to Lone Pine to complete a variety of fix-it tasks before our next big group arrives.

I am happy to report that we now are surrounded by neighbors. Toby has taken over at Mill Pond and it is reassuring, should an emergency arise, to see his motorhome lights across the field. Ken and Will (short for Wilhelmina) have settled into Rock Creek a few miles down the road and appear as eager as I for social interaction. Unadulterated silence, void of all 21^st century sound for the last few weeks, is a bit unnerving.

Febreze, Zero Odor, BioChem, baking soda, vinegar…all products helpful in removing unpleasant odors. When living in a box on wheels, the most minuscule of whiffs overpower the entire space and a desperate search for the cause ensues. For the past two weeks the sewer smell, mixed with dead mouse/polluted water stench coming from under the sink has been beyond illusive. No explicit word in the English language is strong enough to express my displeasure. Odiferous reek has, once again, snuck into LilyPad’s crevices and it must be quashed post haste. My 2 week long unwelcome headache continues along with related inhalation difficulties and breathing is one amenity I refuse to surrender to this vagabond lifestyle.

Searching through forums and the internet, the lone subject being “RV odors”, occupied our computers for the next several days. Not the AAV (air admittance vale) we bought new to replace them all. Not something in the basement, we took everything out and cleaned it in its entirety. John turned off the heating element and the foul odor diminished. Another purchase added to our list, another crisis quashed, time to kick back and enjoy our evening.

Rising early to meet Ariel, our fearless leader/boss, for a nature walk with all BLM hosts invited to join. John and I don’t miss the chance to socialize. John, Ray, Karen, Carol, Dale and Ariel on the trail.

Local bird calls floated down from the trees.

Susan Creek Campground trail trek began with Poison Oak as our main subject. It blanketed both side of the trail at the onset. Being highly allergic, you would think I would know what it looks like but its diversity of leaf designs and merging with other plants results in some sneaking around before poking out into the trail and rubbing its oily reaction all over an unsuspecting subject. It is the primary diet of deer in the winter so it is allowed to grow around, not on, BLM trails.

Walking along the Umpqua River, Ariel educated us in invasive species. Sweet Pea vines are beautiful but invasive.

One lone indigenous Cone Peak Lilium (Tiger Lily) poked its bloom out of the ferns.

Horsetail plants are indigenous and thrive along damp areas of paths by the river.

Lichens, sensitive to air pollution, can be a record through time of the changing patterns of our air quality. There were dozens of types on our trek but I found net lichens most interesting. They looked like giant pale green Halloween spider webs hanging from the trees.

Huckleberries, the only plant we found that produced something edible to humans. A little green now but will be bright red when ripe.

Our expedition ended at the river by the log-on-the-rock and a good time was had by all.

Ample time left over for a stop at  Rock Creek Fish Hatchery before reaching home.  They released fish this week and all the hosts were contacted to report any and all fishing poles brought into the area.  Anyone caught fishing must be reported to the police.  When they say No Fishing, they mean it!

Sat in the middle of our parking lot at 11pm tonight to watch the predicted Meteor shower. Someone must have turned the faucet off…nothing but a few spatters of one second long thin white gossamers. John was not amused and there was not nearly enough action to keep him outside, neck uncomfortably arched towards the sky.

We heard laughter and happy chatter from the 70 member family group across the street in our Group Campground. With more than a dozen active boys finally down for the night, mom’s and dad’s sat relaxing by the fire enjoying the cool starlit evening. So far, they have been a perfect group with which to start our season. Oldest Son told us that the patriarch, his great grandfather, worked at this sawmill back in the day. Their family has been happy campers at Lone Pine since it opened sometime in the late 60’s.

Began spending a few minutes quiet time each day watching the hummingbird feeders out LilyPad’s window. Thinking that I might label the varieties, looking up “types of hummingbirds” produced a stunning assortment of the little dive-bombers. We have lots of young’uns so I’ll have to wait to know for sure what we have at our feeders. They drink all day long and far past dusk, are very territorial and extremely aggressive towards each other without even a slight fear of humans. They will stall a foot from your face and stare before flying off. My camera seems a source of fascination and it is possible one may alight on my long lens should I hold it very still.

Gold star to our first week-long stay Group of the season. Everything we asked, they obliged. The camp looks as good as before they arrived.  Awesome sight for a host. We have two weeks before our next group. Waterfall hikes and wineries, here we come!

Susan Creek Waterfall trail sits a few feet off Rt. 138, just a hop-skip-and-jump from Lone Pine. We stopped to visit with our nearest neighbor hosts at Susan Creek Campsite, the only campsite bathrooms in our area that are enhanced with real showers, before beginning the mile hike up to the falls.  It is wheelchair accessible, full of upward switchbacks with rest stop benches along the pathway.

A giant gooey ugly bug alert along the pebbled trail and we watched for a few minutes as it took its own sweet time sliding slowly across our path.

No movement in the overhang of leaves at the beginning of our hike but as the sound of the highway faded, water gurgling over the rocks in Susan Creek grew louder and a slight coolness floated about the mossy green forest.

Once over the wooden bridge that connected two sides of the footpath, misty old growth trees parted and deep pools appeared with just a hint of the waterfall peeking around the bend.

A short distanced rocky climb and the waterfall came full into view. We enjoyed the serene resting spot seated at a bench near the waterfall letting the mist from the falls cool us.

On our way back we paused for a chat with a Tennessee couple camping in the area. There being a large number of foreigners hiking the area, they asked if we were from the States. We answered in unison, “no, we’re from Texas”.