Cabin and Coast

Hello dear friends and family!
So sorry to leave you mulling our mosquito infested moments for so long but we are back on the internets! Well, to be totally honest we did have internet access most of this past week but there were more important things to do, at least in our estimation of important.  These included serious, heavy-duty relaxing and meeting my cousins Maya and Leila for the first time! So sorry, but y'all take back seat to seeing the Sparkle Fairy Princess and sidekick (as yet without a call name).

Since it has been so long I'm gonna do a "quick" recap, leaving pictures and in-depth stories for later.

So the reason we stayed so long in central Oregon was that I had rented a cabin as a surprise for Rob's birthday present.  Because our travel plans are so unpredictable this presented a little bit of a challenge, including aborting the initial idea of renting one near Lake Tahoe when Rob announced he was sick of driving through mountains and wanted to stay on the coast (where we encountered....Mountains!).  After some sneaky phone calls and a "trail ride" used as a cover-up we wound up at Crater Lake Resort in a very cute cabin for two nights.  Luckily it more than made up for the two previous nights.

There was no TV service but a tiiiiiny television and the DVD library at the office/store let us get some solid entertainment time in.  There was also a little book library which, greatly to my surprise, had about 6 books I've been wanting to read.  Generally these sort of libraries hold some mystery, a few classics and mostly ROMANCE. And that's not my preferred reading. Not that I'm knocking the genre as a whole mind, it just has very, very few examples of decent writing, and for me that's the most important part of any book.  Anyway Rob had quite the laugh when I came back into the cabin with a stack of books that would have taken me at least a week to read (but only if I ate and slept in between).  I enjoyed having them around though, and that's what's important right?

The resort also had some canoes guests could take on the river (more of a creek really) so in the morning Rob got to take his first canoe ride! Initially I had him sitting in back since he's stronger but since the back mostly controls the steering and despite being a very fast learner it was his very first ride, we switched spots when we reached a little waterfall that marked the upper limit of the canoeable stretch of creek.  I think the tippy-ness inherent in canoes made him initially nervous and I still think he'll choose a rowboat if given the choice but by the end of the hour he was anticipating my "orders" (since whoever's in the back is the captain...no it didn't' go to my head....too much) and we were navigating smoothly.  It was also a very difficult river to learn to canoe on, in addition to being small and wiggly it was low from the drought and filled with snags and logs and sandbars, a true maze to navigate.  The longest stretch we could go straight was about 20 feet so he really was thrown right into "the deep end" to use another water activity metaphor.

After we left the resort (cheery and well rested) we headed back to the Oregon coast. It was quite a drive and we got to Honeyman State Park at about sunset.  Sadly we didn't get to see the huge dunes it is famous for because once we'd broke camp in the morning we couldn't find anywhere to park! We had also told my cousin Lauren and her husband Terapat that we would be staying with them in Seattle that night and had quite the drive ahead of us, we also had a few important stops to make on the way up so we left the park, craning our necks to catch a glimpse of the shore, and wondering exactly how "sandboarding" works.  Honeyman is just south of Florence, where I was born! We drove into town to find the hospital, which now appears to be private rather than state/county run.  After grabbing a few pictures we headed two towns up the coast road to Waldport where my parents had their first house. We strolled down Main Street, grabbed some great chinese food for lunch and decided the Oregon coast is a really nice place to live (at least in the summer).  Before heading out of town we found my parents old house, which has been greatly renovated and expanded. There were a few cars in the driveway so we didn't stay long or get any pictures, but boy, what a great spot.  Last house on a dead end, right on the river, certainly not a spot I'd have minded growing up on :P.

On the road again we turned toward Seattle, putting the coast as a definite place to re-visit and spend more time on. The drive was long but identifying the impressive peaks visible from rt. 5 was entertaining, and I got to drool over the horses in ranches along the road. We pulled up the very steep drive to our Seattle hosts at 10:30 and hit the very comfortable mattress after a warm welcome.

Clarification

So in that last post Rob said we were "swarmed" by mosquitoes. I feel this description is not entirely accurate. A more descriptive term might be smothered, or mobbed, or even brutally assaulted. Stepping out of the car at the first campsite resulted in some 15 odd bites in under 5 minutes and heavy losses on the mosquito side. The special ops team sent to ambush us in our protective vehicle as we fled suffered total anaihilation but managed to first cause significant blood loss and extreme agitation on our part. Not to mention the mess they made when squished against the windows.
The squad we initially encountered clearly spread the word of our deliciousness because our second and third attempts to find a suitable campsite met with the same results.
I was sorely tempted to mount the bodies of our kills on toothpicks as a warning to the rest but finding a place to stay was more important and besides, that's kind of gross. We were resigned to sleeping in our seats because leaving the car even for a few minutes was unbearable and setting up a tent would have been a nightmare when I remembered passing "Jo's Motel" on our earlier drive through the "town" (definition very loosely applied here). She was nice, the campground is nice and, most importantly, nearly mosquito free!

Live action update...

Just a quickie cause I'm on the phone without a keyboard.  We arrived at our agreed upon campsite north of Kalamath Falls in one of the National Forests only to find it infested with mosquitoes!  We resigned ourselves to camping on the side of one of the NF roads but found more of the same, and being swarmed by mosquitoes is not something we are quite cool with at this point in the trip. 

We did manage to find another private campground that had minimal mosquitoes AND showers in a place called Fort Klamath.  I'm not sure what the fort is about since there's literally nothing here to protect....this little all-in-one camp/RV park/motel/cafe/grocery store is the only thing open in the town.  There is actually not one unabandoned building except the post office.  Anyway, its a nice little place with a super friendly owner who said she would "catch up with us in the morning" for our payment, which is trust we havent run across much on the trip. 

Time to turn in now though, catch everyone later!
RhK Rob

P.S. the pix are of us attempting to follow a backwoods road to find shelter from the mosquito hordes, obviously to no avail.

California 2: Jackson Forest, Samoa Dunes, and Redwoods

Hello Again Vicarious Travellers!

Mossy (although dead) tree limbs, common in the area but not so much
where we are from.

So after promising a quick turnaround on our next post we managed to drive into the southern Oregon Signal Barrens, where there wasnt any phone signal or data signal for even a lowly phone update.  We are out of the abyss now, and I'm trying to get this up from a public library in Klamath Falls, OR.

So back to the trip, yet again.  The first night out we had a bit of trouble finding somewhere to stay, since (due to budget cuts), many California State Parks are currently closed.  Our original plan was to drive out to the Sierra Mountains and camp somewhere around the Lake Tahoe area, but we decided to cut out the huge westward loop out there and back to the coast.  Well, actually, I decided that I had about enough of mountain driving for a while and vetoed that leg of the trip.  I also was not interested in straying too far from the coast since it is significantly (like 20*) cooler on the coast than further inland, especially at night. Due in part to our late departure and further compounded by state facilities either being full or closed, we had little choice but to stay at Jackson Demonstration State Forest since that was the only open place with available sites within driving distance at about 6pm (our unofficial cutoff for finding sleeping arrangements).  So my decision to avoid mountain driving planted us -- guess where! -- that's right, ON a mountain which meant even more mountain climbing for us and the Buick.
I will say it was only about 30 miles of switchbacks and up-and-down hill driving so it was far less than we would have had in the Sierras, but still, the irony was not lost on my assertion that I had had enough of driving through mountains for a while.

Side shot of our camp at Jackson.  The stream is to the right off camera.

Proximity Shot: See how close we were to the stream (Buick on left)

I’m not really sure what they “Demonstrate” at this Demonstration Forest, but in my opinion it wasn’t how to preserve a forest, since many of the camp areas were closed due to logging operations inside the forest.  I suppose it supplements the area’s income, but still.  At $15 a night it was affordable, although the campsite facilities were less than what we found an $8 per night ground was east of the Rockies.  I have no problem with staying in a primitive campground, but it is nice to be charged accordingly.  The grounds were fairly well kept, and we had a large picnic table with a firepit.  There were only pit toilets and no running water (at least that I found).  The whole grounds were oddly devoid of bear-proof trash bins as well, only squirrel bins (heavy lids but no latches). 

Our campsite treehouse!

Empty treehouse

We arrived just before dark and had just enough time to set up camp and figure out the self-registration system before having dinner and heading to bed.  Miriam did manage to find a “Rapberry Bush”, from which she grabbed and ate a “berry” before I could stop her.  Being from the city, I’m fairly certain anything you find in nature is in some way designed to kill you and I’m thoroughly convinced that that so-called raspberry bush was filled to the brim with poisonous berry look-alikes.  No deaths have been reported yet amongst our compliment, but I’m still skeptical.  I found a HUGE Banana Slug (look it up!) and tried to entice it to grab onto a stick so I could take it back to camp to take some pictures, but only succeeded in getting it all dirty as it seems that dirt tends to stick to gooey things when rolled on the ground (in my attempt to have it make it stick-borne).  Those two episodes aside, we had very little interaction with the local wildlife, with the exception of an underground beehive I stumbled on the next morning right near our picnic table (which was not awesome!).   

Me taking a picture with my phone, of Miriam taking a
picture of me through the treehouse window.  We have
resorted to double-photographing some things
because we dont know if we will be able to update
 with the computer (camera shots) or cell phone (phone shots).

Decidedly Poison Berries!!!  Still no deaths reported though...

What the grounds lacked in facilities it made up for in its environment.  Despite being camped right next to the only other people in the grounds (yes, we were “that guy” unfortunately since we got there after them!), the natural surroundings were amazing at Jackson.  We were surrounded by new-growth redwoods (so not as huge as the famous ones but still much bigger than the trees out East), and our campsite was right on the bank of a small stream (evidently much larger during a normal rain season, evidenced by its steep banks).  There was a hallow redwood stump near the bank, big enough to walk into and stand in (with telltale charring of its fiery demise).  The stream was low enough that we could have walked down (or up) it for quite a ways (most of it was about ankle deep and crystal clear).  There didn’t appear to be many trails or paths but if we had been so inclined I’m sure we could have found much hiking recreation in the area.  Being only about 6 miles from the ocean, it remained fairly cool during the day, even during our late departure around 2pm, only getting up to about 71* and staying in the low 50s overnight.  It was a very pleasant place but we chose not to stay in favor of trying to get to Redwoods NP in the northern corner of the state.

On our way north, we did drive past a town called Garberville, which I regret not stopping for a photo in since they had a cute little wooden town sign that would have been perfect.  If I recall correctly, their motto was: Garberville “The Friendly City”.  Author's Note: **I appologize for the awkward placement of this paragraph but the eccentricities of the new version of Word, combined with the mal-programming of Windows 7 (its complicated, but just know I hate computers and this isnt helping!!), is making it very hard for me to move around content within the blog itself, so this will just have to do!**  
        

Samoa Dunes.  The Buick is in the middle.  VERY cramped!

Our next stop-over was the somewhat misleading Samoa Dunes State Recreation Area.  While not a park, it offered camping and again was the only place we could find before dark, having wound our way up the coast road.  It was just outside the town of Eureka, which is the only place around there that appears on any maps with a respectable scale.  We drove past the “camping area” in search of an actual campground but were forced to face reality when we noticed the rest of the area (the actual “dunes” part) was closed after sunset…so the “campsite” was in what essentially amounted to a paved parking lot where you set your tent up on the grass surrounding it.  It was by far the weirdest state facilities we have run across.  Each “site” got about a 16’x30’ parking slot, and about the same amount of space behind the spot where a fire pit, concrete picnic table, and tent site (read: flat grass spot) were located.  At $18 dollars per night ($20 for non-handicap), this was definitely a one-nighter.  This area was clearly intended for RV’ers who had ATVs and could camp at the dunes and run their buggies over the sand during the day.  There was also a boat launch, although the bay (Samoa Dunes appears to be on either a barrier island or a peninsula) didn’t seem canoe or kayak friendly, with somewhat choppy water, ripping tides, and heavy barge traffic.  There were water hookups at each site, so campers (meaning the nouns you drive or tow behind your car, not “campers” like us) could fill their tanks.  It wasn’t the ideal place for us to stay, but it was something and it was still cheaper than a hotel.

Looking back at our "campsite".  This was in the morning so
we already had broken camp and were getting ready to pack
up.

We slept in the tent as it is a bit awkward staying in the car while parked nearly door-to-door with your neighbors.  What this area lacked in natural charm or beauty is made up for in company, with our right-side neighbor Steve giving us some of his chopped up wood pallet for our fire and making conversation throughout our stay.  We were surprised to learn that he actually knew where Coventry, RI was after we told him where we were travelling from.  Apparently he had grown up in eastern CT and drove through Foster on Rt 6 quite a bit, so he was at least familiar with the name Coventry.  We did get some good pointers from him about the nearby town of Arcata (just north or Eureka), where there was a large used book shop and some other stores of interest. 

After staying at Samoa Dunes for the night we packed up our camp and headed out to Arcata in the morning, in an attempt to turn in our used AAA Travel Guides (Steve was distressed at the thought of burning them as kindling and suggested we try to sell them at The Tin Can Mailman book shop).  Although the shop wouldn’t buy them from us, they would accept them for free as a donation, which we were just as happy with as either way they were off our hands and out of our car.

There really should be something said about the town of Arcata.  In our travels we have yet to find a place with as weird a feeling as this little coastal town.  It was a mixture of very expensive food and stores with a very (monetarily) depressed population.  If there was ever a “hippy town”, this was it.  I don’t know how anyone buys or eats anything in town since the prices weren’t in line with the “look” of about 90% of the people around.  Maybe it was a town of very wealthy potheads, but I somehow doubt it.  One venue we decided to check out was a “glassblower” shop, and upon entering we could definitely tell what they were blowing glass for.  With one tiny cabinet devoted to blown glass jewelry, the entire rest of the shop was bongs and pipes and HighTimes magazines.  Not that there’s anything wrong with any of that, it just wasn’t subtle in the least….especially since the shop reeked of pot.  It was both Miriam and my opinion that the town didn’t have enough normalicy for its quirkiness to be appreciable, since EVERYTHING was somehow designed to be super meaningful or grab your attention by being off the wall.  Again, nothing wrong with those things as we both appreciate them but in moderation.  There was also a strange overabundance of bicycle and outdoors shops for such a tiny town.  I counted at least four within two or three blocks of one another.  Not a significant discovery, just something I found a bit odd. 

One hidden gem in the town was a full length suede trenchcoat that fit Miriam perfectly (for $12!!).  We found it at a thrift shop and had to get it, despite trying to constantly unload stuff whenever possible.    

This was pretty far away...I barely ran into the shot with
a 10-second self timer set on the camera!!

It was only a short drive (about 40 miles) from the weird Potville to the southern end of Redwood State and National Parks.  The Redwood Parks are actually a conglomerate of interspersed State and National Parks, but for all intents and purposes I'm going to refer to them collectively as Redwood National Park (NP) since I frankly have no idea when we are in one or the other.

Driving through Redwood Park(s)

Three redwoods growing from a single root base
(look closely!)

The park itself was really nice, and fairly well-kept, with lots of hiking and day trails to check out along the way.  Miriam and I havent really gotten back in the "outdoorsy" mood quite yet so we didn't do much hiking during our stay.  We got out to on one "trail" that was actually just a closed access road, and walked through the giant redwoods, which was really nice.  The trees at Redwoods are truly enormous, and we were among the smaller of the bunch where we were.  We estimated them to be about 16 or 18 feet in diameter, with the larger ones being I think in the 25 foot range.  One interesting fact we learned on our way to the forest (via our National Parks book courtesy of Deborah and Jonathan) that the trees are over two hundred feet tall but with roots that only penetrate the ground by about 10 feet.  Apparently they work on a "wider is better" strategy, rather than sinking deeper for stability.  They also absorb about a third of their daily water from morning fog, with the remainder coming from the ground, and use up to 500 gallons of water per day per tree, which is a baffling amount when you consider how many trees there are in the area!

Fire-hallowed base of a (we estimate) about 16' diameter tree.  This was on the "small side"
The scar opening is 2.25 Miriams wide

A crazy redwood burl, probably the size of
a large backyard shed!

Walking through the forest.  Again, Miriam provided for scale
reference

Possibly a viable treehouse, large enough to live spartanly in!

Treehouse Door...approx. 1.3 Miriams tall

Same door,with Rob used for those on the metric system.

Back door of the treehouse

Fallen redwood.  Scale is difficult to see in this shot,
 but its easily 18' tall

If you think that any of the pictures of our forest walk look like the Forest Moon of Endor (from Return of the Jedi), then you're right!  Apparently the scenes from Endor in the final installment of the worthwhile series of Star Wars movies were filmed in the redwood forest in the park.  A little less obvious would be the forested scenes in the first Jurassic Park movie (again, the only worthwhile one), although much of the focus was on the dinosaurs and characters and the scenery was only a tertiary component (plus half of the movie was at night, so there's that too).

Endor!! Unfortunately due to budget cuts the Ewoks have all
been released from the parks! :( 

Our stay in Redwood was another first, as it was the first time that we camped at a non-government campground, that is not a State or National Park.  Why, you may ask, since we were literally surrounded by State and National Parks?  Well, for starters there was no campgrounds in the National Park bits, leaving only the under-funded California State Park system to foster the campgrounds.  Unfortunately for us all of the grounds were full by the time we got there (on a Friday, bad timing), and it is apparently a very popular park.  We did get a (free) permit from the National

Pretty self-explanatory here...

Park Ranger Station for backwoods camping, which we are really not outfitted to do, but it was only a quarter mile hike from the parking area so hauling heavy gear in wouldn't have been so terrible for a few nights.  When we got to the parking site (which was very poorly marked), along an unpaved, single-car-wide back road, we found absolutely no parking, and were faced with the prospect of either driving the several mile loop again and again until a space opened, or finding camping elsewhere (there was no where to pull off the road to go and grab a site either).  A few miles away from the backwoods area we ran across a private campground (Kamp Kalamath), which took AAA and was reasonable at $26 per night, which included wifi (the previous CA update) and hot showers, as well as a really reasonably priced camp store.  Our second night there we had an all-you-can-eat grilled salmon dinner put on by the camp for a fairly reasonable cost.  Apparently the Klamath River is a famous salmon river and the fish were caught that day just a few miles from our camp, and grilled for us that night.  We enjoyed our HUGE salmon steak portions (probably about 1/2 pound each) and including the sides of rice pilaf, mixed vegetables, and salad there were no complaints on our part for paying $15 per plate.

Probably the best sense of scale yet.  This is zoomed-out with
the Buick and Miriam as references.

Although going on a bit of a tangent with the salmon dinner, this brings me to my main qualm with the California State Parks (especially the ones in Redwood), which was their cost.  When a private campground offers better facilities at less cost, I fell as though there might be an issue worth looking into.  The state grounds (if there were available spots), were around $35, which is approaching RV park prices.  Even a REALLY nice campground shouldnt be more than about $25 or so, at least in my opinion.  I know Miriam has heard my complaints about the CA parks, but I really dislike them overcharging and underservicing just because it's California.  I dont mind paying more for better facilities, or less for lesser facilities, but one should follow the other.  We have tried our best to support the State and National Parks with our patronage as far as camping goes, but in this case it was simply cheaper and more comfortable to camp at a private ground.

While the park was certainly nice to visit, it was fairly crowded and the Visitor Center had WAYYY more visitor parking than the facility could provide service for.  With only about a dozen spots filled and about ten times that empty, the VC was crowded and there was a line to either talk to a ranger (about camping or hiking) or checkout of the souvenir section.  I'm not really sure what they were thinking with that one, as there wasnt a place to sit and have a picnic or a museum to learn more about the park in (most good VCs have had a small museum to give you an idea of the history, ecology, and geology of the park you're visiting).  I think we would consider going back again, but definitely on a weekday (again, not the parks' fault, it was bad timing on ours) when it should be less crowded.

Just north of the Redwood Parks is Crecent City, which we stopped in for lunch.  We found a place called The Chart Room, which was a bit pricey (not overly so), but had really good food.  There was a big to-do about the local sea lions and seals, the former having a big colony on a nearby island, but we didnt manage to see any.  We did get to see some seals hanging out on a dock in the harbor, which was pretty neat.  We have taken to calling any seal a "Sea Diesel", since they have that same face he always has with nearly all-black eyes that tend to melt your soul into doing whatever he wants.  Although we do realize that seals seem to make the most of their time and play and have fun, something which Diesel should maybe pick up on!

Although our exploration of Califonia was shorter than imagined, we are glad to be moving on, as our energy on this second half of the trip is decidedly lower than on the first.  Our next stop was Crater Lake in Oregon, which I will report on separately, after having just left there this morning.

I think Miriam needs to use her computer now so I will sign off and hopefully update in less than a week, which seems to be the going rate for these things.

Till next time!
RhodeKill Rob

    

The First California Post

Sorry for the long hiatus in blog updates, but we spent over a week in actual civilization down in Palo Alto and San Francisco and weren’t exactly inspired to write.  Although it would have been the best time to update, since we had access to wifi, electricity, and other creature comforts, we wound up taking advantage of other things like the pool, hot and cold running water, and the use of a refrigerator instead.  While we are really thankful to our hosts (Pam and David in Palo Alto and Misha in San Francisco), we may have stayed a bit too long for our own good, since getting back into camping and driving again was a little more difficult than we imagined.  The reprieve from camping on-the-go was nice and relaxing, but we did manage to lose our “momentum” which kept us up and active and we wound up sleeping in late and generally not feeling too good, something we rarely ran into while on our own. 

While docked in port, so to speak, we just happened to run into an impromptu family reunion which was more of an accident than a planned event.  In addition to the normal California residents from the Grossman side of the family were Miriam’s mother (Deborah) and sister (Naomi), visiting from RI and Rachel Garcia-Grossman (Miriam’s cousin) from Seattle, as well as another Rachel, our soon-to-be cousin-in-law (if that’s a thing?), also from Seattle (Ben Grosman-Kahn’s fiancé).  For those of you reading from the Grossman (and Garber) side, you know the family tree and which branches everyone belongs to, and for those reading from my side, this explanation will have to do since I’m not going to burden the other half of our readers with the whole genealogy of their own family.  One important thing to note is that the latter Rachel will only be the second in-law on the Grossman side (of the grandchildren’s generation), with myself being the first…something I didn’t realize until Deborah brought it up at a lunch in Half Moon Bay (on the coast south of San Francisco).  On the Garber side I think I might be the second in-law (Terapat in Seattle would be the first….for those on my side, he married Miriam’s cousin Lauren after we drove their car from RI to Washington state, but I think that’s all explained in the first post of the blog).  With so many cousins of various ages I have no idea where Miriam ranks on the in-law timeline for my side, but I know that at least with the Domiano (spelling anyone!?) side, which is the largest side that I have regular contact with, Miriam would have been the first granddaughter-in-law…or grand-anything-in-law for that matter.  For those on the other side of the fence on this one, Domiano (again, spelling, I think it might be “Da”) would be my mother’s mother’s side of the family.  I didn’t really intend on veering off into family trees, but as these posts tend to be more on the organic side, sometimes these things happen.  

Getting back to the trip though, Palo Alto also afforded me a chance to catch up on some maintenance with the car, since I was able to use the driveway there to do some work without getting run over or chastised by a ranger (neither of which happened, by the way).  Back in New Mexico I did manage to pick up a set of new brake pads to replace the horribly squeally ones that we had for the first half of the trip (and yes, I realize squeally isn’t a word!).  One trip to the O’Reilly’s in Grants, NM had me rushing back to the camp with new brake pads and a headlight switch (more on that in another post), with every intention of fixing the car then and there at the campsite since park Rangers were few and far between out there.  Upon arrival I found that the switch was the wrong one for the car and the brakes had been opened and greased, then returned, and then resold.  The greasing made no sense whatsoever since the grease used (yes, the little grease packet was still in the box…thanks, whoever you are that did that!) was for the brake pins, not the pads, so I have no idea what else they were attempting to do with them.  Since I had to return the switch anyway, I decided to return the pads as well.  Keep in mind these are southwest distances we are dealing with, so the store was not around the corner.  Our campsite was about 25 miles away from town, so another 50 mile round trip was not terribly justifiable with just a simple parts exchange.  We made the trip back in the following day with the intention of using the local library wifi and spending the hot part of the day indoors.  I managed to exchange the brake pads and returned the switch since they couldn’t get the proper one before we would leave town.  So this long winded explanation somehow gets us back to Palo Alto, since I guess the point I was trying to make was that we have been carrying around new brake pads since New Mexico and all I could do at this point was hope that they were the correct one, since I have now had a 0% success rate with receiving correct and unused parts from O’Reilly.  Luckily the pads went in fine and we now have squeak-free performance after several hundred miles of use. 

I also was able to change the oil before we left, which the car was certainly in need of (although not direly so).  Upon arrival in Palo Alto we were at about 4,950 miles since leaving RI (the first time), and with about 112 hours on the engine clock.  A good part of those miles was relatively easy highway driving, which the Buick seems to like much more than city or mountain driving, so even with nearly 5,000 miles since the last change, the oil could have lasted a bit more (plus synthetic lasts longer between changes than regular oil).  For anyone interested in the logistical end of things, I had packed a case (6 quarts) of oil for the trip, along with a spare filter, and purchased a portable (sealable) oil pan from WalMart in CA for about $7.  Purchasing the oil when its on sale at BJs is about $21 (CHEAP for synthetic oil at less than $4 per quart), and even with the price of the oil pan and filter it cost about $30 for the oil change as opposed to $60 or $70 if I had brought the car somewhere to have it done (that’s for synthetic oil, the $29 oil change special at Jiffy Lube is using the cheapest conventional oil they can find…plus I don’t have to worry that someone forgot to actually put oil in or replace my filter or put the oil cap back on).  And all the old oil (and filter) gets recycled for free from O’Reilly’s (which I dropped off a few days ago in Eureka, CA).

Other small maintenance items included readjusting the fog and driving (offroad) lights, rewiring the oil pressure gauge which continually gave a pressure reading of 0 when idling (something which I knew was wrong since the engine didn’t blow up after a few stop lights of that happening), and going through all our gear and reorganizing it to get the most efficient setup.  All of this was done while Miriam was in downtown SF at a dim sum meal with the rest of the family.  The only reason I mention the last part is so that those involved know that I actually WAS doing something and not just hiding, as is my usual routine at family events.     

We also happened to be in San Francisco for my birthday, for which we were treated to a really nice lunch of great fish and chips (Miriam had steak) by Misha (Miriams grandfather) and were joined by Linda (his caregiver and fellow SF resident) and Rachel Garcia-Grossman.  After lunch Miriam and I decided to stay around the house at Ulloa street instead of trying to rush downtown in time to “do things”, and shared some Rachel-provided dessert from a great local bakery (Tartine, which I’m sure anyone connected to the CA side of the family knows about).  We departed on July 10^th, albeit fairly late, since we had to return our borrowed van to Palo Alto (about 40 minutes south), pack the cold food items in the car, find gas, and then backtrack with the Buick to SF.

Just a quick note on gas in California (or anywhere for that matter), since I mentioned it.  One tool we have found indispensable on the trip so far has been our GasBuddy app for our phones.  It’s a free app from the Google store (I’m not sure if there’s one for the iPhone or not) that relies on user reporting for local gas prices.  It’s only updated as regularly as users input prices, so it is only as current and accurate as the consumers who log on.  For Palo Alto especially, where most gas stations were between $4 and $4.09, we were actually able to find a station about 5 miles away that was $3.65.  There are of course some stations that may never get reported on, and other stations whos prices will change between their posting on the app and when you physically get there to pump gas, but it has been great in not only located gas stations for us as we travel, but for finding the cheapest gas possible.  We try to update the prices whenever we stop, which accumulates points for your account and eventually makes you eligible for weekly drawings to win gas cards (something we’re not planning on winning but it would be nice!).  It has saved us a LOT of money so far on the trip, since we can get maybe $20 of gas in one town where prices are high, to allow us to get to another town where they are substantially lower (this is especially true for towns close to state borders where the tax rate changes dramatically from one state to the next).  Even at about 19 or 20 mpg (which we’ve been averaging most of the trip), we still need A LOT of gas at each fill up.  Saving 40cents a gallon when you’re using 16 or more gallons at a time really adds up, especially when a tank only lasts about 325 miles on a good day (a 1,000 mile stretch uses about 3 tanks).  Anyway, the point is we have  had great success with this app and I’m sure someone reading could get some good use out of it too, even if the bulk of your driving is just commuting the same way to and from work. 

I have more to report, but I think for ease-of-reading, it’s best to give this post a break.  Don’t worry though, I have the next post almost finished, so you wont be left hanging like when we left the southwest.

Check back soon!

RhodeKill Rob

Mammoth Cave NP and the BoyScouts from Hell

*This post was started on-site in Kentucky and intended for a timely upload but we didn't quite get around to it until much later!*

Greetings from gorgeous Kentucky! 

The past few days have seen Miriam and I in what is the beautiful backcountry of southern Kentucky.  I had originally thought we would bypass both Kentucky and Tennessee when we did our initial planning since I really didn’t think there was a whole heck of a lot down here (which meant we declined maps and guide books from AAA).  Boy was I wrong!  Well, I guess there’s not a whole lot of “stuff” down here but it sure is an amazing place to visit and see.  We arrived Wednesday evening around 6:30 with 58.77 hours on our engine clock, meaning we’ve been in the car for about two and half days at this point!  Keep in mind the engine clock is running anytime the ignition key is turned, so this counts for any idling, or being-parked-with-the-radio-on-ness, but it’s still a fairly accurate account of how long we’ve been in the wagon traversing the country. 

 

Kentucky has a beautiful capitol building...or at least half of one!

My faithful navigator plotted a course from I-64 around Lexington, KY due south on some back roads to expedite our arrival at Mammoth Cave National Park.  Google Maps theorized that this trek would take about two and a half hours on the highway, but the navigator (I won’t mention any names here!) insisted that back roads would be a quicker route since they seemed more direct.  Since (to paraphrase Tennyson) “t’was not mine to reason why, t’was only mine to do and….drive”, I accepted our new course and headed due south through  the surprisingly clean and well-kept city of Lexington onto some nice “back roads”.  To make a long story short, about four hours later we wound up at the park, after navigating our galleon through some twisty, windy, hilly, and often un-or-ill-marked roads.  I actually have to say it was a much nicer way to see this beautiful state, though.  The roads we were on I doubt many locals would even have seen unless they lived on them.  More than a few times, however, we were angrily passed by some local yokels who were apparently annoyed with my not wishing to have our frigate wind up in a ditch around a sharp corner or turn someone’s new car into a crushed like a soda can when we hit them head on around a blind curve (I’m fairly confident we’d make out it alive in our tank).  After a lot of gas, gas, brake, gas, brake, gas, action, we made our way through some really pristine horse farms, and some quaint country cattle ranches that lined the various byways and into the tourist trap that is the outskirts of Mammoth Cave National Park (MCNP).  By the way, the seemingly harsh ribbing at the “navigator” is intentional, as Miriam has no idea what I’m reporting on until after I post since I have imposed a strict “don’t read my stuff while I’m typing” clause…so it’s always interesting to see her reactions afterwards. 

 

Endless Chasm, The handrail visible in the corner is quite comforting!

Our first full day at MCNP found Miriam and I engaged in a cave tour, which was fantastic.  It would have been a bit better in a smaller group (we’re estimating there were about 70 or so people in our group), as Miriam experienced the dread of having two teenage brothers horseplaying behind her as we made our way through the cave.  I think they eventually got the hint when she asked them “do you want to go ahead of us?”, after a bout of their pushing and pulling one another nearly off the tour path and into the chasms below.  The cave itself was amazing though, especially since this was the first time I had been in one.  The air was damp and the ambient temperature was a steady 55 to 57 degrees, as caves tend to be.  There were not a ton of special rock formations or colorful strata to observe, as the entire cave is essentially one giant piece of limestone carved out over millions upon millions of years.  In over 400 miles of passages (making Mammoth the largest surveyed cave system in the world by over twice its next competitor), there is apparently only about 1/8^th mile of rock formations (stalagmites and stalactites) which we were fortunate enough to see on our tour.  It was hard to get a good look at the cave or the rock formations as the group dynamic lent itself to a virtual ebb and surge motion with the front moving and the rear always catching up.  With us near the front, this meant we couldn’t really stop long enough to take pictures without getting overrun by the rear guard, and had we stayed in the back we would be forever running through the cave to catch up.  We did manage a few shots but they don’t do justice to how it actually looks down in the cave.  

Chamber formed by a collapse (they don't call them cave ins!)

This, dear readers, brings us to the second part of the title of this installment, our campground company.  Shortly after arriving and registering with the Ranger station for a campsite, we proceeded to said campsite and began our usual setup operations when we saw a white (short) shuttle bus coming up the campground road.  Keep in mind almost all the adjacent campsites were taken but empty, most of the people being out on cave tours during the day.  Anyway, blazoned in blue letters above the windshield and across this short white bus’s front panel was a somewhat ominous “REAPER PRIDE” slogan.  I immediately relayed to Miriam my first thought on this “Wow, that’s an AWFUL retirement home motto!!”  We both got a good laugh and quickly realized that it must have been a high school trip of sorts when the bus emptied with semi-loud teenagers.  We braced ourselves for some loud and obnoxious teenage drama for the rest of the night but overall they weren't terrible neighbors. 

Our Campsite at Mammoth Cave

The next morning they packed up and left and we were treated later in the day to a Boy Scout caravan pulling up to our adjacent site and the one next to that as well.  When I say caravan, I’m not talking about a Dodge Caravan, which would be a single vehicle. No, this was three or four vehicles (vans, trucks, a trailer full of stuff, and a car or two), filled to the brim with Boy Scouts of varying ages.  They were certainly not quiet setting up camp, which is understandable since I’m sure getting settled with 14 teen and pre-teen boys and four or five adults can be confusing.  We were granted a reprieve when they loaded up and headed out to do who knows what for the day (although Miriam and I were certainly NOT hoping for a cave-in should they have been on a caving tour).  Just after dark they decided to return and were quite the rambunctious crowd for a group that was supposedly out doing things for the better part of a day.  I guess helping little old ladies cross the street and rubbing sticks together till they burst into flame just doesn’t take it out of kids nowadays and they need to let off some steam at the end of the day.

Miriam credits her fire-building skills not to any scouting experience but to her Daaaaaaad! (read on, you'll get it)

 Let me mention first that we had another contingent of banjo-playin’ pickup-drivin’ good ol’ boys move in just down the road earlier in the day and who started their guitar and banjo festivities a bit early in the day (luckily they didn’t suck at playing so it wasn’t too bad, but still pretty loud).  So hopefully the picture is coming into focus now.  Teens in a bus designed to frighten the elderly, the Hatfields and McCoys playing Dueling Banjos (literally…no, they actually started with that one) down the road, and now loud Boy Shout…err Scout, teens right next door.  Miriam had fallen asleep but I stayed up reading and finally heard them turn in around 11:30 or thereabouts.  I’m not sure if a Ranger had stopped by at some point or not, but the loud conversation quelled for a few minutes and then picked back up again and resumed until they finally retreated into their tents.  Not to mention that the entire troop continually cut through our across-the-street neighbors’ campsite on their way to AND from the bathroom for the entire day.  You would think they would teach you not to walk through sites that have a tent, a car, and two people hanging out in them but I supposed if you can’t tie a knot around it, it ain’t worth learnin’. 

Cooking over the coals
Perhaps she was distracted by the scouts but it took nearly all of the Virginia guidebook to get the fire going!

The next morning Miriam was woken up to the sound of Revelry being blared via Kazoo to roust the boys.  Apparently no one else has ears that function at 6a.m. in a public campground.  I guess I slept through the bugle-kazoo playing since I distinctly remember waking up to the shrill cry of “Daaaaaaaaad!!!” by perhaps the most annoying and spoiled snot-nosed kid to grace the ranks of Boys Scoutery.  His repetitive calls to his paternal figure continued for the next half hour or so, with Miriam and I quietly adding in our own after-phrases to both keep ourselves amused and from strangling him.  We did learn that it apparently did not matter if the Daaaaaaad was two feet or two hundred feet away, as the volume of the call never faltered below a jet-engine decibel level.  “Daaaaaaaad!!!” has now entered our lexicon as the battle cry for anything that is slightly annoying in or around camp. 

Different location, same sentiment!

Miriam finally got up to go say something to the chaperons when she was intercepted by the only lady among the group who apologized before Miriam could vent to her about keeping her troop quiet at 6 a.m.  Miriam later went to one of the male adults and explained to him that in fact other people could hear them at 6a.m. to which he replied “Well we’ve got to get them up somehow”.  The Boy Scouts of America, folks!  I’m certainly not tainted by my fair share of rigged pinewood derbies or nonsensicle popsicle stick projects as a youth in the Cub Scouts or anything. 

There were other adventures at MCNP but I think it is more appropriate to reserve this post to just the complaints about our camping experience there.  With almost no bugs (except a herd of the biggest Daddy Longlegs spiders we had ever seen constantly harassing our camping gear, and hundreds of fireflies at night) and essentially no harmful wildlife it was a pretty good experience altogether.  Had we encountered bears and bees and biting flies as well as having our neighbor problems, we most likely would have left earlier to greener pastures                  

RhK Rob

(Pictures added by Miriam)

Too freakin' hot!!

Hi everyone!

We made it into Palo Alto last night around 2:30 a.m. but we wanted to share a couple of shots from our drive through the Mojave Desert yesterday.  Keep in mind the external thermometer is not spot on 100% of the time but its good to within a degree or two and these temps were taken while doing about 70 through the desert (with the A/C cranked!). And you thought it was hot where you are!

RhK Rob

The Long-Awaited Pony Post!

Ponies of Assateague Campground A Loop

When we were staying on Assateauge there was one herd that hung out around our campground for the majority of our stay. This allowed me to "get to know" them a bit and have fun playing scientist observing their behavior and interactions.  Their histories I gleaned from badgering the park rangers and volunteers. When we get home I'm hoping to do some more research and find out more about them and fill in some of the missing information below.  Without further ado....The Ponies!

Left to Right - Mohawk, Belly, Footsie

Mohawk

Sex: Stallion

Color and Markings: Chestnut, no markings

Distinguishing Features: Distinctive thick and long mane, overgrown front hooves, especially the left

Age: Approaching teens?

Behaviors: Tends to stay a ways behind the herd on “look out”

History: Mohawk took his current mares from Sham, who is now a bachelor stallion. He grew up around the park entrance and, after being often fed by visitors, became a habitual biter. Eventually he was enough of a danger that the rangers moved him to a coral behind the visitor center area and would walk around the pen, scaring him when he approached to help disassociate humans with food and discourage biting.  He was released at the southern end of the island with other bachelor stallions and eventually made his way back up to the park this year. No biting so far.

Other Names: Joy ("official" park name), The Biter

Park ID:

Unfortunately I did not get many pictures of Mohawk, given his tendency to be behind the herd, and my tendency to stay far away from unknown stallions.

Belly

Belly

Sex: Mare

Color and Markings: Chestnut with stripe and roaning on the left cheek and left belly

Distinguishing Features: Looks pregnant due to salt bloat

Age: 25

Behaviors: Appears to be the lead mare in this band, seen on “look out” while others grazed. When Footsie and Laurie wandered off Belly was calling for them along with Mohawk.

Other Names: No park name given

Park ID: unknown

For her age Belly looks to be in excellent health. Since the park started using contraception to control the number of ponies on the island the life expectancy for mares jumped from 10 to 15 years up to 25 to 30 years! The stallion life expectancy jumped as well, probably due in part to less competition from younger stallions.

Footsie

Footsie

Sex: Mare

Color and Markings: Chestnut with a star

Distinguishing Features: Shaggy coat, looks like cushings. Over grown front hooves, especially the right.

Age: 24

Behaviors: Hangs out by showers and water pumps, known as a camp raider. Appears very independent and tends to be slightly apart from the rest of the herd.

Other Names: Park name may be Annie?

Park ID: unknown

As one of the volunteers put it Footsie is the old lady who does what she wants because she's lived long enough that she doesn't feel like she owes anything to anyone anymore.  She's a year younger than Belly but has aged less gracefully, her extra-shaggy coat may indicate cushings and she has that "old horse" look. I first met her after heading to the restroom I saw some guy washing his dishes at the water spigot (Bad camper!) and after he was done Footsie came over to drink from the puddle that had formed.  She couldn't have cared less about the bathroom door opening inches from her hindquarters, the risk taking tourists that were crowding waaay too close, or the fact that the rest of her herd was nowhere near.

Annie Laurie

Annie Laurie

Sex: Mare

Color and Markings: Chestnut Paint. White legs and rump, white star shape under jawbones.

Distinguishing Features: Nice conformation, good feet

Age: 3-4?

Behaviors: Apparently quite a headache for stallions, Laurie joins a new band when she gets “bored” of the current one. Curious and bold she will approach people if they are “in her way” or to look for handouts and is difficult to shoo away. Known as a camp raider.

History: Laurie is the daughter of the one mare in the park that the contraceptive doesn't work on. She is the 5th or 6th foal from Carol's Girl, who was expecting again when we visited.

Other Names: Chin, the paint (by me)

Park ID:

 

White bum and Star under jawbones

Baby 

Baby

Sex: Mare

Color and Markings: Chestnut with a small star

Distinguishing Features: Short mane and tail, leggy

Age: Looks to be around 1½ - 2

Behaviors: Baby is curious and friendly, approaches people, seems to want to make friends rather than demand food. Almost always close to one of the older mares, particularly Belly or Laurie. Occasionally seen initiating play.

Other Names: Park name unknown

Park ID: unknown

Annie Laurie and Baby