After two years of driving, it finally happened, as I knew it would. Excited about being rooted in one place for five months, I forgot to pay close attention to procedures, didn’t move the mirrors down before beginning, moved to quickly and tried to swing 45 feet through a narrow steel entrance gate without guidance from my “team mate”. When I lowered the window and meekly yelled “help”, John being John, grabbed the camera to document the occasion before helping me back up and re-enter. Scratched would be a nice way of describing the paint I tore off. Could have been worse as nothing was damaged apart from the paint. Guaranteed I will be hearing about this for the entire season, possibly even for years beyond.

Have begun making Lone Pine Group Campground “homey”. Our trip to Wal-Martian Central (a.k.a.,Roseburg Wal-Mart) commenced the orchestrating of ornamental Pansy’s set to burst out of the top of dead rotting tree stumps and tumble down the sides. A basket of petit multicolored flowers will somersault out of their hanging container and provide an attractant for the hummingbird feeders nearby. We are nurturing herbs to flavor our salads near our front door. Eventually, a myriad of floral reds will sprout from our big brown planter parked in our driveway. Oh how I love having colors springing from a patch of dirt that I can call my very own for a whole season!

We are beginning to see various colors of hummingbirds at our feeders.

There are several bird and owl boxes near our site.  Currently we have one neighbor building a nest.

John waited several days before telling me that the largest tree on the property, the one I loved to walk by every day last season and gaze up at, had been taken down. This was the only tree that was spared from the clear cutting that wiped out the old growth trees growing here when it was a sawmill back in 1941.

Sad, but the park decided that it was a danger because of rot deep inside its core. Falling would be a hazard so they ended its reign just a few weeks before our arrival.

Rock Creek Saw Mill, owned by Douglas County Lumber Company, occupied this area from 1941 through 1956. We are hosts at Lone Pine, the area where the Wigwam Burner and Generator were located. Mice run rampant inside the huge hollow base of the burner that stands near our RV.

We have already begun baiting the area and KatieBug is not allowed off her leash. Our maintenance manager has been telling tales of multi thousand dollar damage done to host RV’s at other BLM sites from mice gnawing the slide/air conditioning/heating wiring. Sorry PETA but we prefer tiny wild furry things outside our home or dead, no in-between, spiders included.

Last year we hosted at Mill Pond where the Okieville Homes, living quarters for the loggers, were located when it was a sawmill camp.

Our group campground is not as impressive as Mill Pond Recreation Area, but has far less responsibilities.

We have two small quick spray-down vault toilets, a cozy easy care pavilion,

Volley ball and horse shoe pits and fewer campsites than last year.

No swimming hole and no flush toilets/bathrooms.

Our work camp hosting begins on May 22^nd so we have time to visit places we missed out on last year. Wineries, of course, and waterfalls abound within a 50 mile radius of the campground.

John got up early this morning to attempt a bike ride down Rock Creek Road and came home stating that uphill Bureau of Land Management gravel roads are not compatible with bike tires. A quick shower later we were driving down Rt.138 in search of waterfalls.

First stop was the Tioga wooden bridge that connects Rt. 138 to the N. Umpqua Trail.  It is an amazing fragrantly piney wooden bridge, used by locals and visitors alike.  Across the bridge was a 40 foot high snow melt falls running into the river.  This is wild iris country.

Further up the river, a quick ¼ mile hike brought the short but massive Deadline Falls into view.

Along Steamboat Creek is Little Falls, a 10 foot drop into a series of deep pools.

Snow melt falls followed us along the sides of the road.  John and KatieBug decided to get out and explore.  The rocks were imbedded with flowering succulents.

Steamboat Falls, next to Steamboat campground, is a 25 foot falls located next to the fish ladder. If you look close, you can see a lady on the right side of the pool walking towards her yellow blanket.  Lots of poison oak on the trail so we did an about face after taking a picture and were on our way.

A pit stop for water at Dry Creek Market and a surprise visit by a fearless wild turkey. John had a hotdog in his hand, the critter jumped at him for a bite but John was not in a sharing mood.

Rated a moderate trail, the 7/8^th of a mile hike to Toketee Falls, with its10 foot width and 113 foot high drop to the pool below, is one of the most famous waterfalls in all of Oregon.  You climb up and down a multitude of stairs.

When you reached the top of the mountain, deep pools stair-stepped downward before the water reached the top of Toketee Falls.

12 foot high and wooden, Toketee Pipeline diverts much of the volume of the N. Umpqua River to a powerhouse downstream.

There are 23 falls that grace the North Umpqua River and its offshoots. This year our goal is to hike to at least half.

Our adventure for today was a somewhat planned, but unprepared for, a 50 mile trip from Lone Pine Campground to the town of Cottage Grove.  In hindsight, this “back way out” would never need to be used by us to escape a fire. Fires would most likely start in the direction we headed as not one resident or business stood between Lone Pine and our exit at Cottage Grove.  The forestry service usually lets interior fires burn out by themselves. Our logical escape would be the logging road we take to reach the town of Glide, a mere 20 minutes away. That didn’t enter our thoughts until we had traveled an hour along the dizzying switchback climb of 3,640 in elevation, with less than a quarter tank of gas, no road map, no cell connection to direct us. Not helpful was the pouring rain, fog hovering over the higher elevation of the mountain road and unmarked roads splitting off in a variety of directions. Barely noticeable in the downpour and fog was an arrow and town name spray painted on the ground directing loggers to their correct destination.

Reminiscent of Alaskan roads, logging roads have huge chunks cracked off from the edges and sometimes are split in the middle, boulders tumble down into the roadway, and trees slump over threatening to fall across your path. It took us 2 hours and the empty tank light had been on for several miles by the time we reached civilization and fuel.

I played in the water today.  Well, not actually played, I sprayed and got splashed.

Make ready day had arrived and our first group of campers will intrude upon the quiet early afternoon.  We cleaned out dead mice/spiders/hornets from the storage sheds, pressure washed the vault toilets, blew off the thick blanket of pine needles that covered the paths/campsites/tables, pressure washed the pavilion floor/tables/counters, restocked supplies and are now set for the Lone Pine Group Campground host experience and the 70 people arriving Thursday.

Arrived at Brookings Elks Lodge RV Park, our home for the next week.

Visiting family and extended serene strolls along Harris Beach

Visits to Chetco Inn Senior Home with KatieBug and stopping to smell the flowers in Azalea Park.

Seagulls at dusk and a Jonathan Livingston Seagull sunset following a picture perfect day.

McDonald’s for breakfast with Dad and all of his cronies before relaxing and waiting out the grayness. Tonight will be dinner with the family before storing away anything that may slide or shatter for the next leg of our journey.

Gray all day today.  So gray it turns everything colorless.  The fog is gray, the sky is gray, the ocean is gray and all this gray is turning our dispositions somber.

An impromptu outing to Brandy Peak Distillery might be enough to turn our gray day to grand, so we jumped in the car and headed down the wiggly, bouncy, rain drenched uphill roads, several miles above civilization.  One sharp turn and we arrived abruptly upon a genuine backwoods moonshine distillery.  Specialize in designer flavors, the owners have been creating brandies since 1994.

We have been to distilleries elsewhere but this one stirs the imagination and brings back images of the deep South down home country backwood stills.  The location is tucked away in the woods inside a huge nondescript metal warehouse.

The tasting room was small and cozy, offering a sip of each type for a small fee. We enjoyed them all but came home with bottles of Grappa and made-from-the-local-blackberries yummy liquor.

Woke up, hugs for my Dad and off we drive into the morning sunrise between football field size patches of fog. Soon we have met up with, and slipped under, the dark thunder clouds that had been looming ahead. Rain is not a comforting or calming condition in which to drive along the winding narrow Oregon coastal roadways.

With each trip, John gets braver with his sense of ability to maneuver. Stopping to check out a local berry gift store and market, seeing an RV U-turn sign, he proceeded to squeeze our rig around the back of the store into the parking lot. Stressfully tight but successfully accomplished, when ready to depart we stashed some triply berry “no sugar added” jam into LilyPad and away we went.

Our sleepover stay for the next two nights is the stunningly landscaped, impressively clean, loaded with amenities Seven Feather’s Casino RV Park. Rivals that of the hoity-toity Las Vegas Motor Coach Resort but scads less expensive, includes free transportation to the casino and to anyplace in the tiny town of Canyonville Oregon and quiet enough to allow me a complete nights rest.

Dropped anchor and took the complimentary bus to the casino adding two more player cards to our growing collection. Our free play and a visit to Willie Wonka, my favorite machine, brought additional monies back home.  We had cable, a coveted connection when on the road, so relaxation and TV programs was the nights plan.

Another day of relaxation and visits to Pyrenees Winery (they were impressed with their high dollar wines, we were not)

and Abacela Winery,

stashing away two more bottles of red fermented juice of the grape from Abacela before we leave for our much anticipated entire season work camp position at Lone Pine Group Campground.

And we’re off…first night was a quiet, mostly long term campers, easy pull through site.  Got a picture of our Italian neighbor’s rig.  I’m guessing no one messes with him!

When we were hooked up to leave, John took the wheel and got between a rock and a hard place. Unwilling to wait, patient person that he thinks he is, below is what resulted when he tried to make a left turn around a truck that was obviously stuck out far beyond maneuverability. Yea, go ahead guys, tell me again how horrible we ladies drive!

Unhitched Ribbit, backed up, turned the corner, re-hitched, went on our way.

A picture pause by Greenwood Tree Farms after passing hundreds of acres of trees in step ladder stages of growth.

A KatieBug potty stop and sighting of John Day Dam sparked our interest for a rest stop at Bonneville Lock Dam and Bradford Island Fishway, the fish hatchery and fish ladder, an hour up the road.

John Day Fossil Beds National Monument and close up of the fascinating Painted Hills

Before we reached Bonneville Lock Dam, just past the Painted Hills, a snowy white view of Mount Hood appeared in the distance.

Reaching the Bonneville Lock Dam turnoff and after turning down the narrow dam road, breathing a sigh of relief as a giant parking lot emerged.  We parked, had lunch inside LilyPad and began our self-guided walking tour. It was an enjoyable stroll through the museum, the fish ladder and watching the powerful surge of the dam waters from the observation deck.

John played guard by the 1930’s guard house with the hydroelectric dam, built in 1937 by the Army Corps of Engineers, in the background.  Osprey circled above our heads.

The dam, fish ladder and hatchery were constructed with the blessing of Franklin D. Roosevelt, his administration and the New Deal after the war to put Americans back to work. It was one of the first of 10 such dams to harness power provided by the Columbia River.

Fish ladder view from the outside and inside.

Our overnight stop for tonight is the Elks Lodge in Salem, OR. It is directly across from the National Guard Airport. Says the-man-who-can-sleep-through-an-atom-bomb, “it won’t be that noisy”.  Upon arrival, our camp host shouted above the whap/whap/whap of the helicopter blades, “the boys only play with their helicopters until about 10:00 pm”.  The geese seem oblivious to the noise.

Sunset over the National Guard building and the helicopters are still air born.

It’s now after 11 pm and the TV sound is overwhelmed by the sounds of orbiting engines.  You can faintly hear snoring coming from our bedroom in the mix.  It’s going to be a long night.

Morning arrived, seemingly after I had just closed my eyes but the highway calls so off we go.  Passing dozens of “Old McDonald Had a Farm” fields, some with garden variety farm animals, some with designer wildlife, the terrain became steep and mountainous and LilyPad’s engine shifted repeatedly for the ascension.

Arrived at Hi Way Haven in Sutherland OR, the RV Park with the drive-in movies on weekends. The couple that work camps here used to be at the 242 RV Park in Conroe, the one where we had LilyPad’s open house.

This is one of my favorite places to pay for a stay in the area, our RV site at Lone Pine being free but not easy to access for short term. Reasonable prices during the week, just a few curves up the road from numerous wineries, minutes to the city of Roseburg for shopping and, the best part, friendly Texans for hosts.

Our one day training at Mill Pond Recreation Area, where we spent an excellent two months last year as camp hosts (exception being the dreaded bathroom cleaning) was an enlightening experience.

We all know laws change from state to state and some seem more peculiar than others. Massachusetts law forbids carrying ice cream in your pocket. OK…I can understand that. Some are not that significant…Washington not allowing collection of fire wood in the park, the opposite of Oregon, which allows any dead wood to be fair game. Washington allows gathering wild flowers, Oregon’s rule is hands off.  Washington has public nudity laws forbidding nude swimming in public places but what I wasn’t ready to deal with was hearing about Oregon allowing people to swim nude in public places. Nothing even minutely similar occurred last year.  As luck would have it, this year the swimming hole is not our responsibility. My plan, if made aware of such an occurrence in process, is to yell… “John, you are needed at Rock Creek swimming hole!”.

Couldn’t resist a side trip to two of the 23 local wineries.  Henry Estate Winery, our first stop, had free tasting.  Brought home a fruity dry white and a nice easy drinking Bordeaux.  The building and surrounding area reminded us of Bernhardt Wineries in Plantersville, TX.  Henry Estate has monthly events, one being a crayfish boil with Cajun music in June.  Looks like we will be celebrating Father’s Day gleefully pinching tails and sucking heads.

Down a long curvy dirt road, high upon a hill, sits Prayer Rock Vineyard.  Their wine tasting wasn’t free but included a few bites paired with the wines.  We brought home a nice Spanish Tempranillo.

Devoted attention from Shiraz, their gentle oversize wooly vineyard welcome wagon, immediately offered countless wet doggy breath kisses and gave way to bittersweet memories of our sweet Millie.

Back tracking to visit my dad in Brookings Oregon for a week before we begin our season at Lone Pine Group Campground. On the way, Bandon, our favorite side trip, is having a Farmers Market with musicians “singing an a picken” at the Market entrance.

The block-long parking lot across the street has plenty of room for our 65’ and it is our usual spot to park. We wander around, have lunch at our favorite eatery, return to LilyPad and John drives slowly across the gravel lot to the road. Upon reaching the road, out of the corner of our eyes, we see a man speeding quickly to our windshield and stopping, waving his arms. John opens up the side window and is told that he is dragging the car. Getting out, we see behind LilyPad two deep rivulets completely void of gravel, trailing from across the parking lot up to our stop. Someone, who shall remain nameless, forgot to take Ribbit out of park when he did his routine “walk around” before we drove away.

The winding down of our first work camp position of our 2014 year has begun. Being planted next to the peaceful Spokane River was a treasured pleasure.

A bit frosty at the onset of our stay but warmed up to brilliant Cornflower mornings full of distant haunting raptor chirrups and echoing woodpecker rat-a-tat-tats.

Every campsite was filled this weekend, even the overflow. Said goodbye to Ellen, the upstairs maid, (John and I are the downstairs maids) as she left for another work camp position. Thoroughly enjoyable stay but if we ever return, it will be early in the year. The closer to summer months are greatly congested with noisy smoky-fire-building campers.

A bubble recipe from my niece posted on Facebook provided us with ample reason to turn a few hours into a play time and we blew happy rainbow orbs out across the river. They exploded midair leaving Spiderman webs trailing along the breeze.

Our closest osprey, his nest positioned at the top of a tree across from our campsite, flew to perch on a nearby limb and watch the popped bubble strings float away. Sensing it wasn’t food, he loudly broadcasted his disappointment and returned home.

We sighted another coyote next to one of the camp sites but he wandered off by the time I got the camera out of the motorhome. One of our campers saw an old porcupine waddle slowly by our site at the water’s edge and our marmot poked his head out to watch us greet the newbies. Our geese waddled their babies out of the water and up into the campground to teach them the proper way to poop on our little patches of grass.

One day left. Lots of campsites to clean, lots of last minute cramming belongings into available spaces to achieve. Weather is not being cooperative. 9:00 am cool, windy overcast. 9:15 am brilliant sunshine. 9:20 am pouring down rain. 9:25 am wind with sleet, sticking to Ribbit’s window. 9:45 brilliant sunshine poking out between clouds. 10:10 am sleet sticking to our work camp cab cart. 10:20 am warm brilliant sunshine. Spokane is truly a “if-you-don’t-like-the-weather-wait-five-minutes-and-it-will-change-drastically” kind of town. Just enough time for a Kodak moment with the Spokane River minutes before another down pour.

A quick sneak out to take one last picture of our Spokane River sunset before a much needed nights sleep.

We put in another full day of physical work today. Raked 13 sites, cleared and hauled away 4 garbage cans full of pine needles, made homemade fish stew and cleaned LilyPad. Phew…ready for dinner, a movie, put up the feet and drain a bottle of wine to the very last drop.

Still cautious about staying outside after dark to look for wildlife leaves us only early evening to spot something wild. Walking the park to greet our newbie’s turned up a fat fuzzy marmot who was interrupted from his lounging, spread eagle on top of tree stumps in the sun

several dozen geese who have chosen our little splotches of grass as their personal port-a-potties

some raptors out hunting for nesting materials to repair the goose disruptions

and fishing for their nesting family.

Ducks of all kinds land in quiet coves of the river, bobbing up and down fishing for hours before flapping off into the sunset.

Tonight the moon was eclipsed but the clouds hid the copper color. Very disappointing show considering we stayed up until 12:30 am to watch and rise early next morn to rake and clean 10 sites.

A scraggly little herd of Mule deer roam through our campsite when the sun comes out, which in Spokane, is a rarity.

On the way to the grocery, a local coyote was watching hikers and their dog from a few yards away, not an ounce of fear showing. John’s camera phone was all we had but you can tell how at ease he is with us so close to him as he intently watched the dog.

John and I have been trying for over a year to secure a host position in a local Texas State park near The Woodlands. It seems, unless someone dies, the same people are given positions year after year, Texan or not. Oregon limits volunteer hosts to three years so they don’t become overly possessive with the campground as does Washington.

Today I received an email accepting us for a position with Washington on the Brazos at Barrington Living Farm for December, January and February. John will dress in 1800’s garb and work on the farm with oxen, chickens, repairing fences, etc. I shall be working in jeans and a T-shirt at the Visitors Center answering questions. We have a wonderfully large full hook-up site and have first pick of positions for future years. Only an hour from The Woodlands. Finally we got our foot in the door for Texas State Parks…Go Team Perrella!

Our “time off” has been snippets here and there as our work load consumes most of the day and some of our evenings. Deciding to visit the whole 300 acres of Riverside Park, we took Ribbit and KatieBug on tour. First to the day use areas, not much but tables, garbage cans but with one fantastic view of the river. The dam by the Ranger Station had lots of rushing water and damp mist floating up into our faces but no Kodak moments. Docks for boat access are the main draw to the smaller Nine Mile Recreation Area camping, not as nice as ours and closed until next month.

We caught Little Spokane River Indian Painted Rock Trail between rain showers. Spokane Indians were colorful artists in comparison to the other petroglyphs we have seen.

Spokane House was closed but, having access to the Park’s gate keys, we looked both ways, swung open the gate, quickly snuck in and drove carefully down the long dirt road, both of us having expectations of old wooden structures filled with old timey trading post treasures.

Spokane House, the first American trade house in Spokane a.k.a. North West Company, opened in 1810. After war broke out in 1812, the American’s merged North West Company with longtime Canadian rival Hudson’s Bay Company. 1826 Spokane District Headquarters closed Spokane House and moved to Kettle Falls on the Columbia.

After a few minutes the road opened up to a sparsely treed field with a 1950’s building titled Spokane House Interpretive Center. No trading house in sight, we were utterly disappointed! Anticipation of private access to the first trading post belonging to a white man in Spokane vanished, no freedom to poke around the site at our leisure. Instead we took a picture of the locked building, let KatieBug out to pee, shook off the raindrops and drove back down the road, reopening the gate, locking it behind us.

Our last stop before returning to Bowl and Pitcher was the ORV, off road vehicle area. Wow…enormous region of dirt roads twisting over and around mountains designed for dirt bikes, ATV’s, motorcycles and trucks. Ribbit drove in, took one look at the mud and steep pitch of the roads and refused to continue. Spokane’s constant rain showers keep dogs and vehicles coated in various stages of muddiness…tomorrow both KatieBug and Ribbit get baths with mani/pedi’s.

Our tour took a total of two hours. Back at camp we greeted newbies, raked and cleaned sites, squeezed in a little TV in-between campers needing shower tokens and firewood, then sleep.

Early rising for photo ops after campground duties. Raptors have returned and are chasing the geese out of their nests to begin raising families.

We have multiple woodpeckers outside our window tap, tap, tapping out holes in the pines, curious but not bothered by our presence. Work camp duties finished out the day.

Woke up to rain, rain, go away…for the fifth day! Quick trip into town for groceries, a one hour stop in downtown Spokane to see the Spokane Riverfront Park Falls staying just minutes ahead of the downpour.

“The Joy of Running Together” sculpture of steel celebrates the Spokane tradition of Bloomsday, the largest timed road running race in the world.

A wild turkey having a nose to nose greeting with a young Mule deer on the hillside created an excellent Kodak moment on our return trip to camp.  A relaxing dinner with our cousins before returning for our nighttime duties of dressing our faces in big friendly smiles for sales of firewood and shower tokens.

John guided LilyPad into our Host Site and the afternoon was spent with set-up, then a quick visit to my cousins Bob and Brenda’s house a few blocks from the Park and back to LilyPad for a much needed quiet nights rest.

My first impression of the “per person” 30 hour work week camp host requirement was met with trepidation. No stinky bathrooms to clean but a slight resemblance to hard labor at our calculation of $3.00 per hour so I expected this to be one incredible Park.

Bowl and Pitcher Rapids

Up early to meet with Ranger Frahm, minimal on instructions but easy going and not the slave driver type. He reiterated, we are not on bathroom duty. John and I took a self-guided tour of this gigantic Washington State Park. Thus begins our 28 day work camp hosting position.

In actuality, we only work 30 hours per site, not per person, and most of the hours are fulfilled by smiling and greeting campers. Now that’s more my style…and did I mention, we don’t’ do no stinkin’ bathrooms!

As hosts, we check bathrooms for supplies, rake sites, clean fire pits, check garbage/recycling and call it into the office if they are full and answer questions from campers. Sadly (wink, wink), I cannot help John with raking or fire pits as I am still on major asthma medication, so my contribution is donning a big smile and answering questions from campers, selling fire wood and ice, checking bathrooms for supplies and posting “site reserved” signs. From about 3pm on, when our campers begin building fires to keep warm, I am confined to our box on wheels.

Amphitheater and Vault toilet in group site

Water hose froze last night. Not surprising as it sinks to the low 20’s around 4 am before creeping back up to the low 60’s during the day. Our “it’s always something” is a snapped off main bolt under our large slide, broken quick connects for our hoses, stuck door awning, loose screws and a split drawer. Not terribly bad, but must still be addressed.

Host walk-about revealed a 216 foot long swinging bridge, originally hand built by The Civilian Conservation Corps to span the Bowl and Pitcher Rapids, rebuilt to withstand heavier foot traffic in 1998 using the same plans.

Anticipated future exploration of our hosting includes a hike over the bridge to see where it leads and another to view the returning birds of prey when they force the geese from their nests. Presently the storm is dumping cold rain, hail and snow on everything but should depart the area post-weekend. Accuweather is predicting a gorgeous Spring Break weekend.

Seventh night…woke to major hissing, growling, shrieking noises outside our window. Didn’t see anything but keen survival instincts warned me not to venture outside to seek an explanation…DUH! A Ranger confirmed that it was male bobcats challenging each other for mates and that nighttime in the park is occupied by countless things that go bite in the night. Fox, wolves, coyote’s, bobcats, all our furry neighbors stalk out in hunt mode when the sun goes down. Note to self…stay close to LilyPad when the moon rises.

We have settled into our Host routine, we being the downstairs maids, Ellen being the upstairs maid, and are in cahoots with our cousins to do the sightseeing-with-out-of-town-visitors “thing” when our off duty days arrive. The riverside is breaking out in Cornflowers and tiny purple something’s …Spring is about to hatch.

Spent the next three days wrapped snuggly in blankets, watching movies and eating popcorn while resting and listening to the rains shower down over our box on wheels. We were wedged between a few other RV’s at the Burien Elks Lodge RV Parking lot until they moved out in search of sun. Our only ventures out were to a breakfast café the second morning, Red Box for more movies and to dine, our final night, at Bizzarro, one of Guy’s Diners Drive-in’s and Dives in Seattle.

Massively eclectic interior, snug seating, although we had the Best Table InThe House, so the plaque hanging on the pole claimed. We did have the largest personal space in the restaurant. Our food was amazing, confirming once again that Guy is spot-on with his reviews.

Plans were to use our next dual days of travel to rest, relax and recuperate sufficiently before our volunteer work position begins. One overnight, Yakima River RV Park in Ellensburg, WA was another sleep deprivation. Beautiful views of the surrounding mountains, a herd of cows, a few horses

and the dreaded train whistling through every few hours just across the slice of meadow. After we arrived, it blew loudly through our quiet at least three times before bedtime, then once around midnight and again at 4:14 am. Looking at the photo, the scenic view is alluring, until you arrive and that darn Iron Horse comes stampeding though and tramples your quiet.

Onward and upward, mountains beginning to show white caps draping the peaks and sprinkling down settling under the trees, beautiful views, relaxing drive.

We arrive at our first work camp position of the 2014 season on April 1^st

Our first morning in Bellingham began at 5:30 am with non-stop wake up sounds from the grumbling of 18 wheeler exhaust breaks and jumbo jet landings and take offs. The park is next to the freeway and under the landing flight pattern of the airport. Bellingham RV Park is small, very clean but not peaceful, beginning with the wee hours of the morning.

Next few days will be spent in interviews with US and Canadian governments in Blaine for our Global Online Enrollment System Nexus border crossing cards along with the uninteresting household tasks of dog laundry and KatieBug grooming, our laundry, vacuuming the dusty shades and general cleaning of our box on wheels.

Our first experience with the Nexus card procedure began with a wrong turn on the way to the office. We got in the wrong lane and ended up having to wait in a mile long line to cross over into Canada, a quick U-turn to come back into the USA and correct turns leading us to the NEXUS office. John jokingly said we could jump the curb and turn around illegally. I think not, especially when you have friends who’s daughter and son-in-law, both border patrol agents, might come running with guns drawn and we could totally embarrass numerous Americans, including ourselves, by getting arrested.

When I arrived for my appointment and was called back to the desk, the Canadian supervisor asked if the man sitting next to me was my husband and did he have an appointment. When I said “yes”, but the appointment was for tomorrow, she laughed and went to the waiting room to collect him. We both finished our interviews and chatted about full-timing.

I don’t think she realized what a diehard American patriot I am when she asked if we traveled with weapons. Bear spray, we were told, is not considered a weapon. Our spray can has traveled with us since Alaska, tucked away and forgotten.

When I told the Canadian supervisor that I had thought about carrying a shot gun but I didn’t want to splatter the RV with blood and damage the inside with buck shot, her eyes opened wide, her mouth dropped open and she gave us a horrified look, gravely telling me that I could not shoot humans with shotguns, only game! The US agent almost fell off her chair laughing and my confused expression made her laugh even harder. She excused herself, being pregnant and needed a restroom break, and when she returned she told us that her co-workers and our expressions were priceless. Apparently in Canada you cannot shoot someone who breaks into your home, even if the burglar is armed with a gun. Being a Texan, I thought self-defense was a given…but it isn’t in Canada. I swear, when I asked her what I should do if a robber with a gun broke into our motorhome while we were in Canada, she seriously said “call the police”, which set off another wave of laughter by the US agent and a surprised and disbelieving look from John and I.

We were both approved for our cards but warned, no shooting people in Canada unless we wanted to be arrested.

We finished off the day having dinner by the harbor in the town of Bellingham and enjoyed a brisk walk through Boulevard Park watching the tide and thick fog roll in with not even a slight chance of a photo opportunity.

Beginning of another plain Jane day. KatieBug got a bath and mani/pedi while we spent the day running from raindrops in-between performing normal everyday life duties and responsibilities. The wind shook the RV and our slide toppers vibrated, adding to the road and sky noises. Going to be difficult staying asleep tonight.

Foggy overcast day but one not to waste as we only had 24 hours left.  We drove to Vancouver, allowing me to cross off another adventure from my “Bucket List”, Capilano Suspension Bridge Park, and as John is not comfortable with heights, he tagged along mostly for the scenery and a buddy for KatieBug.

Mary Agnes Capilano was born in 1836 before Europeans began to settle the West Coast of Canada. Her Indian name was Lay-Hu-Lette, which means “Beginning of the World”. Mary’s parents came from two different Nations, Yakutat and Squamish. These Nations had a long history of violence. Being the first child, her birth brought the nations together and sealed peace between them that has never been broken.

Mary’s family was a pivotal part of Vancouver’s history. In 1792 her Grandfather, George Mathias, welcomed Captain Vancouver of the Royal British Navy when he discovered Vancouver. Her father was a chief as was her husband and oldest son.

Mary was baptized “Princess of Peace” and she more than lived up to her name. After her marriage to Chief Joseph Capilano, she welcomed the first Missionaries to the Capilano tribe and, with her husband, built the first church on the reserve. She welcomed dignitaries, royalty and local and federal politicians. Deeply respected among her people for her speaking and language talent, she brought together different tribes and families to pursue common goals.

Both Mary and Joseph were well known for their peace negotiation skills, encouraging cooperation between European settlers and First Nations people of British Columbia’s coastline. The river, formerly known as Homulcheson River, became known as the Capilano River in the early 1900’s to honor Chief Joseph Capilano.

The Park is dedicated to environmental stewardship, reducing environmental impact beyond those required by governmental permit or rule, conserving natural resources and ensuring long-term sustainability.

A totally fitting atmosphere for this former Environmental Health Consultant, it was a joyous hike up and down stairs and pathways constantly followed by the overwhelmingly fragrant newly repaired Cedar fences.

The Bridge, complete with one 450 feet long, 230 feet high, reassuringly wobbly walkway that swings and sways as tourists traverse. It can hold 200,000 lbs or 1,300 people standing on it or parade 96 elephants across the bridge, no problem…at least not for the bridge, good luck getting the elephants to cross.

In 1889, George MacKay asked August and Willie, two well know First Nations People, to help him build the first bridge across Capilano River. The bridge was made of hemp and Cedar planking tied to two huge Douglas Fir trees. The early bridge was named the “the laughing bridge” by First Nations People because of the sound the wind made when it whistled between the planks. In 1903 the hemp was replaced by wire but was just as wobbly so it was renamed “the nervous bridge”.

Crossing the bridge is an adrenaline-charged adventure. Pausing in the center and gazing down the river gives one a sensation of floating on air.

Tree tops are connected with seven pathways, the Tree House Suspension Walk, slightly wiggly, high above the ground, clinging to old growth Douglas Firs

and a Cliff Walk that is bowed out from sheer granite cliff faces, bolted to the rocks, strung-up by wires and includes a clear polyurethane enclosed 8 foot long extended area jutting out over the rushing river below. An spine tingling step out into nothingness for a brave few.  John stood 30 feet above me on a solid rock decking taking pictures with KatieBug glued to his foot.

Unknown to us was how many miles of wooden trails, water pond walk ways, suspension bridges, overlook areas and tree walkways there were in the park, but we walked continually for over 2 hours and still missed some of the paths.

Kids were darting out from behind giant tree trunks and vanishing into the rain forest as if all were secretly playing a game of Robin Hood and his merry men.  Every mossy nook and tuck in this park is designed for the child in us all.

By days end, John, KatieBug and I were all sufficiently exhausted and chilled, either by the damp weather or by intensified lofty height experiences. All three of us were ready for a good night’s sleep. In the morning we will leave this noisy sliver of expensive rental turf and head back to Burien, WA.

Itty bitty, skinny mini, swervy curvy roads from Florence, OR all the way to Tillamook. Cliff skirting offered a beautiful view of Heceta Head Lighthouse.

Pulled into the Tillamook Elks RV park, another spacious full hook-up with 21 sites. I’m down to one breathing treatment a day so plans are to see anything and everything, paying no attention to the rain pouring down.  As we left LilyPad to explore, the clouds parted and a few rays of sunshine nudged the drenched farmland.

Badly in need of a venture outdoors, forested Munson Creek Falls was chosen and we drove the uneven dirt packed state road over several miles of lumps. Cold dampness still hung in the air as little sun was being allowed through the treed thicket.  Swamp Lanterns were in bud and ready to unfold.

I hiked for less than half way before my lungs began to close and returned to the car. John and KatieBug finished the hike and brought back pictures of the falls. Early to bed ended our day.

As you would suppose, living in a box on wheels and being together 24/7 sometimes results in squabbles, many times settled amicably. This one instance, as we pulled into our next stop and still in the heat of an argument, I told John if he would admit to being an ass, I’d admit to being a cow and we sealed the agreement with a photo shoot in the yard of the Blue Heron French Cheese Company.

Returning to relaxation mode we were able to enjoy the creamy cheese bite samples and flight of red wine before wandering outside again to watch the farm animals and imagine what it would be like to homestead using the 1900’s Buffalo Pits 13 horse power tractor to clear acres of fields.

A local flyer suggested we visit the Tillamook Air Museum inside the oldest wooden WWII blimp hangar in existence. The hanger could house up to 8 gigantic “K” class Navy blimps. The most astonishing fact about the planes we viewed was that they still fly…and they are all older than what AARP considers senior citizens!

They had a continual big screen movie of the hazards and tribulations of building the hanger, had several showcases of German and Japanese memorabilia and many war items including communications showcases with short wave radio’s, guns, flags, pilot trainers,

a real WWII Guppy to explore

and odds and ends from WWII including a photo of a Texan woman pilot.

John, of course, was fascinated with everything while I was drawn to just a few odd looking or exceptional planes. One was the Grumman J2F-6 Duck, single engine amphibious biplane, utility and air-sea rescue, a very strange structural design.

The Consolidated PBY-5A Catalina, the most successful WWII patrol bomber because of its size

and the Chance Vought F4U Corsair, 440mph, versatile and deadly performer, because of its history…and being the only one I had heard of from my history books about WWII.

Next day we visited Tillamook cheese factory, a dairy co-op began in 1894 by Thaddeus Townsend, a must stop when in Tillamook. We toured the factory, sampled various cheeses and then the Tillamook ice cream counter reached out and seized us both, forcing us to eat junior cones of mint chocolate chip and Tillamook Mudslide. Almost, but not quite, as good as the Little Creamery in Brenham.

One smile inducing part of the self-guided tour was reading the old 1950’s and 1960’s ads. From “Don’t run with our cheddar, it’s very sharp”, “Only serve our cheese on special occasions, like when you eat”, “The best milk you’ll ever sink your teeth into” and “It’s the same cheese that my great-grandfather ate only with a different expiration date” and my favorite… 99% natural, 100% if you remove the wrapper before eating.

A full day of rest before we ventured over to the tiny seaside town of Oceanside. Such an inviting dining opportunity perched on the edge of the ocean.  Afterward we drove up the mountain to reach Cape Meares Overlook before the sun disappeared.

Hiking up to The Octopus Tree, aka the 250 year old Sitka Spruce, was a journey we expected would expose rosy hues spread across the ocean horizon but turned out to be a tree studded blockade.

A quick decent and a trek across the park to one more ocean overlook and checking out the Cape Meares welcome sign but again, no view of the waning sun. Had to check the mini islands anchored in the oceans breakwaters to search for supposed Puffins that were represented on the welcome sign but no Puffins and still no sunset.

With time slipping away, we took the long walkway down the hill to the lighthouse only to spot one tiny glow in the distance.

Sometimes nature gives you just a taste of its splendor so you hold on to the anticipation. Chasing sunsets can be exhausting.

Next nights sunset chase, dinner first, then allowing KatieBug to drain out her energy dashing along the damp stretch of beach, we were finally rewarded with a bit of that unpredictable splendor.

Morning came and we completed the short 3 hour drive to Burien Elks Lodge in Washington. Just a parking lot with hook-ups but near the famous Pike Place Market, one of our must see again when in Seattle.

This public market has been in continuous operation since 1907 and one of the oldest in the US.

Consisting of several levels and stretching out over several downtown blocks, it contains antique dealers, collectible shops, restaurants, one of the oldest “head” shops in Seattle, fish mongers, fresh cut flowers,

fresh produce stands, fresh cheese makers, craft stalls and arcades.

10 million visitors a year munch their way through the market as foodie delights are available every few inches. Lunch arrived so we snacked on veggie pockets at Piroshky Piroshky and cheated on our diets with a buttery treat from the French Bakery, bought handmade dog fruit treats for KatieBug, inspected flowers to purchase for brightening up LilyPad, listened to the music man

and tapped our Texas toes to the music from a group of pickers

before walking our feet into exhaustion.

Next morning Ribbit needed an oil change so we had breakfast at a local café until Jiffy Lube had completed the job, hooked up and drove on to Bellingham RV Park in Washington.

Our next stop, Eureka, CA with the Eel River flowing partway along beside us was a slow journey. It was a narrow Redwood tree lined road that snaked through the mountains and emptied out into the valley of Elks, but nary an Elk was to be seen.

Eureka Elks Lodge was exceptionally welcoming. Close to the freeway but free from noise, roomy and 50 amp, the perfect spot for exploring the area. Avenue of the Giants was at the top of my list, actually the only thing on it, so we woke early, packed KatieBug into the car and were on the road just after breakfast.

Old growth Redwoods, during the “save the Redwood groves” movement decades ago, were purchased by patrons of the Giants to insure their safety from the greed of the State of California, and are arising once again particularly now that the state is genuinely destitute. I am truly grateful for the generosity of those men and women who purchased and donated the soil in which these enormous Sequoias thrive.

The beauty of these interconnecting Giants and the forests where they reside is incredible. Realizing that these stately Redwood Sequoias are taller than any other living thing, reaching heights of over 300 feet, is amazing in itself. To stretch your neck back far enough to see the tops is to realize that these Giants, living as long as two thousand years, are irreplaceable treasures.

Winding around the Giants on spongy leaf packed forest floors, the cool misty fog trapped among the enormous branches, is as peaceful an afternoon as one could imagine. I had to concentrate to keep my mind from wandering into daydreams of Bigfoot stomping through the grounds or thoughts of a strange noise being the Wicked Witch of the West’s flying monkey’s swooping down.

Woodpecker taps echo and bounce between the gigantic trunks, enormous slugs slime their way over the fallen ones making you mindful of where you put your hands.

If these Giants don’t grow in your back yard, you will be immensely impressed no matter what your age. The wonder of their stature stays in your memory long after you have left the area.

Next stop, Crescent City for a bowl of thick creamy clam chowder while sitting suspended over the ocean watching seals and sea lions frolic in the bay.

One has to be careful entering and exiting this restaurant as the humongous fishy smelling mammals hog the sidewalk and bark should you wander to near. Those razor sharp teeth are not to be ignored and sea lions can run as fast as a grown man, if only for short spurts. We kept our distance as neither of us were willing to test the claim.

Arrived at Brookings Elks Lodge in time to get the one and only 50 amp. Fully set up and family visiting commenced, in-between a little exploring on our own.

Loleta Cheese Factory looked inviting so we stopped to sample dozens of flavors before purchasing enough to last us until we return to Texas.

Bakery By The Sea has had our sweet tooth devotion for many years so we chitchatted with the passionately creative bakery Chef Luke and his neighbor, paid for our selections and left with our bag of goodies. His scones are heaven, his bran muffins are divine and he popped in an extra gratis Saint Patty’s Day treat.

Had to laugh and take a picture of our favorite dog groomers window sign. The two that own this shop are typical Oregonians, quirky but humorous and really nice folks.

Harris Beach, just up the street from Dad’s house, is KatieBug’s favorite boogie area. No cars and far below the road, allows her full-on race track speed and usually no other dogs, especially on cold March afternoons.

Closed out our day watching an eerily hazy sun set.

Our three day hiatus at the Brookings Elks Lodge RV park to visit family ended with a pizza parlor dinner party then desert at our cousin’s breathtaking seaside rental before driving back to LilyPad to pack up for the next day’s continuation up the Oregon coast.

On the road the following morning, a quick stop in Bandon for an outstanding crab sandwich and clam chowder for lunch and sweet cranberry treats.

Bandon has two colors that are outstanding in their fields. One is the bright golden widespread Gorse, an oily plant that was imported from Ireland by Lord George Bennett founder of the town of Bandon. It is one of the most feared plants in Oregon, not for its prickles but for its love of fire. It is happiest in an environment that burns fiercely every few decades and in 1936 it burnt down the city of Bandon.

The other color is cranberry and their bogs surge across the flat lands in the outskirts of Bandon. Most of the striking crimson orbs are turned into Ocean Spray products but the town has candy shops that totally rock the sweetly tart flavor, transforming it into fudge, jelly’s, gummies and chocolate covered creams and it is a considerably difficult choice to make between them all.

Another notable is the overabundance of artistic creations. You can turn in almost any direction along the wharf, stretch out your finger and poke a piece, or sit down on one. I adore sea creature sculptures and the walk down the wharf is jam-packed with natural and man-made exquisiteness.

Arrived in Florence OR at the largest Elks RV park that we have been so far. Cold weather and early in the season is keeping everyone away. We have a huge site with only the park hosts as our neighbors in the 34 site park.

Darlingtonia Wayside was our first stop after setting up camp. The insect eating Darlingtonia Californica lives protected in the damp forest surrounded Wayside and we have not yet been when they are eating. With the count of “heads” appearing to be in the hundreds, I don’t want to be walking along that wooden board walk with what must take thousands of bugs crawling and flying around to sustain them all.

Flat, low tide, Heceta Beach was KatieBugs local race track as the sun set. She ran in circles and along the water’s edge for such extended periods that she drew a crowd to the window of the beachside hotel restaurant. Patrons watched her antics until the sun was gone and we left the beach. A quick stop at nearby RiteAid brought a stranger up to us asking if we were the people on the beach with the little “go dog go”. He told us KatieBug had the attention of everyone dining. We have added “entertainer” to KatieBug’s resume.

After viewing remarkable stained glass windows in the local breakfast café, I found the originals and photographed each one. The stained glass version is an artistically genius representation.

The Port of Siuslaw in Florence

Art Deco 1936 Siuslaw River Bridge

Heceta Head Lighthouse

Traveling down Oregon highways, one thing is very apparent.  Collaged scenery from trees being cut to the ground. As hard as it is to see them being cut, it becomes relief when you realize that the law requires them to replant and you can see the scenic greenery reemerge in levels when driving through the mountains.

Time again to pull in the slides and roll on down the road, headed for Tillamook, named after the American Native tribe but best known for their outstanding cheese.