North Stradbroke Island, Queensland Australia (Minjerribah)

We commenced our adventure on Friday, September 22nd on North Stradbroke Island, aka “Straddie” by the locals and a favorite of many “Brisbanites.” as well as tourists from hither and yon. It is designated the world’s second largest sand island, next to Fraser Island – also off the coast pf Queensland. It is a 24 mile long subtropical sand dune, resting on volcanic bedrock. With an abundance of fungi in the sandy soil, flora and fauna are abundant. It is only accessible by water taxi or ferry so we opted for the vehicle ferry so as to have transportation easily accessible, though there is island public bus service. The first challenge was getting all of the Gear to fit into their Yaris plus 4 people. With car camping it is easy to just throw in one more thing and we did not disappoint in this department. This then necessitated Miriam driving and Luke (a normal sized 10 year old) having to sit on Nick’s lap in the backseat on the way to the ferry. He was not too thrilled about that but we got there without too many moans and groans out of Luke or Nick . The ferry ride is only about 45 minutes and the campground a 20 minute drive from Dunwich towards Point Lookout. On the ferry, but also throughout our travels in the outback, I was always fascinated but the myriad of vehicles with their car top carriers loaded up with gear, gear, and more gear. A group of Nick’s and Miriam’s acquaintances through Luke’s school gathered there for campout last year during the fall school holiday period. Miriam and Nick opted to join them for a second year as Luke has an awesome time running with the passel of kids last year. The magnificent white sandy beaches are the main attraction and certainly did not disappoint. But, If I only had one word to describe the adventure it would be WINDY!!!

We camped with MANY other families on one of the camping lawns in the Adder Rock camping and caravan park. In that my experience of camping is mostly in US National Parks and National Forests, it is a bit strange for me to see a multitude of people coming out of the city to set their camp in a small rectangle next to another families’ small rectangle which is usually covered front to back and side to side with 2-4 bedroom tents with multiple entrances, dining shelters, kitchens areas, awnings, fly’s covering tents that already have fly’s, dressing areas, solar panels, chairs, folding tables and benches, florescent lights, blow up couches, several esky’s, antennas, barbecue grills, boats, jet skis. surf boards, bikes, outdoor carpeting etc. Since I always look for vegetation “privacy screens” separating campsites or seek the wilderness experience by backpacking, camping Aussie style is a new adventure. It seems quite social and those I spoke with were surprised by my description of US campgrounds Once I make the mental shift however and went with the flow, I have a more positive spin on it. And it is a blessing that I am a good sound sleeper. As we got to the campsite and were about to set up it became clear that there was a pecking order within this group we were a part of and I knew to just wait until some of the tents were firmly set in a claimed space to carve out a small spot for my backpackers tent. Turned out to be a good spot as it was in the afternoon shade by 11:30 am and just enough sun in the am to take the wee chill out of the air.

As the day wore on the tent city became more populated but there still was enough open space for the kids to race around and have themselves a variety of fun games. Once set up, the item on my agenda (as well as others) was time on the beach. Imagining Gulf of Mexico temperatures at comparable time of year (spring), I was quite shocked to discover the very chilly temperature of the water, at 68-70 degrees. With the weather in the mid-to low seventies and a brisk wind off the shore, I found my self easily chilled and not able to spend too much time sitting on the beach despite layers of clothing. I must acknowledge also that blowing sand, sandpapering the hair off my legs, plays a part in the decision to vacate. No need for a razor here. But not to be deterred I of course went in and also tried a few runs bodyboarding with Nick’s broken boogie board. Luke was having a great time in the surf and becoming quite accomplished on his board. I couldn’t claim to be very successful but figured I had a few more days to master it. At some point Nick and Luke commenced the tradition of building a sand castle, whether it was this day or the next.

 

The rest of the days was spent around our camping area, lunching, and then a good late afternoon beach walk. I was introduced to what triggered a thought of a term to describe walking there on the beach: operatic sand. This very fine grained almost white sand “screeches” with every footfall so I was glad it was low tide and a wide berth of hard packed wet sand to traverse. The sand also seems to have a “glue” in it which makes it quite difficult to brush of the body. I deemed it.wearable sand. The thing that required the most adjustment to was the cars and trucks driving the beach. An incredible array of 4WD vehicles were making their way up and down the beach, churning the sand, and at times it seemed like they were dangerously close to me as I walked the tide line. One of the most interesting natural phenomenon was the large number of dead moon jellyfish, a very translucent organism with a rim of mauve colored tentacles, washed up on the shore. I was a bit hesitant about swimming but learned they may sting but are not dangerous. Otherwise there were very few shells or other marine life washing in.

 

Unlike many of the families with their gas grills and large barbecues, we opt for the simpler the better cooking. So here we are with our tiny MSR Pocket Rocket backpacking stove and minimalist tents perched in the midst of the 2-4 room monster tents, eating canned beans and cheese slices in burritos wraps, pasta with tomato sauce, or tuna. Nick did do eggs one morning as well as pancakes another with varying results. The scrambled eggs were great but the pancakes came out to be scrambled as well. I definitely am in favor of the simpler the better approach and it is quite a “sideshow” observing the amount of time and work it takes to set up their outdoor homes and cook their meals that perhaps rival the space and cooking style in their city residences. During those first hours i was able to encounter a goanna, kookaburra, and koala in the wild, if you consider an established campsite “the wild.”

 

Storms were brewing in the distance so we prepared our camp for rain. Though the thunder and lightening sounded ominous, the storm clouds made for a beautiful sunset and the rain turned out to be a very brief spattering. Since dawn comes early and sunset is also of course early (5:30 ish), the end of day darkness also comes early. I found my self ready to crawl into bed but when checking out my watch found it was only 8:00pm. That sounds like a very unreasonable early hour to bed down but then if the song birds are going to be chirping at the dawn perhaps it would be wise to retire. Since I was tent ready and Miriam has already retired, s it was into the tent to read and drift off…hopefully as the still energetic voices of the young ones were present and they were still having a marvelous time running about. All of the families were friendly and a delight, but I am used to a lot more solitude and setting my own agendas. Being part of a group experience required a lot of letting go and adjusting to the flow. It is a lot more facile to fit into the rhythms of my adult children’s families, but integrating into a group of families that have a history together would be and was more challenging.

Saturday, I awoke to the chirping voices of a couple Aussie sheila’s enthusiastically chatting away (as well as many of the beautifully feathered inhabitants of our 4 day home). Checking my watch it was 5:18 am and they were sitting in chairs right next to my tent. I was determined not to be disgruntled, so I dragged on my clothes and crawled out to a clear blue sky, steady winds and a slight chill in the air. First and foremost the task was to get the water boiling for coffee (my Starbuck’s Via) and head off with the precious key to the restroom. It is only precious because we have only two to be used by 4 people and keeping track of them can get to be a real logistics issue, despite identified spots to keep them. All was right with the world — to be with family, drinking coffee, on a beautiful morning on a wonderful island in Australia. After an oatmeal breakfast I had time for a 2 mile walk on the beach before we were to set out for the days outing. The trek was not quite as easy as the previous evening, as it was close to high tide and there was much more soft sand to negotiate. Afterwards the itinerary was to go to Point Lookout and hike the North Gorge boardwalk. I had not anticipated such magnificent views but the expanse of near white sand beaches, the bright cerulean, turquoise and azure waters, the white froth of he surf, and the many shaded rock outcroppings made for a breathtaking walk. And to add more enchantment to the walk, we witnessed a pod of dolphins and several wales migrating the waters. And what could be a more satisfying at the end of the boardwalk but a stop at the gelato shop right across the street for treats all around.

 

Mid-afternoon Miriam dropped Nick and myself off at Frenchman’s Beach at Point Lookout to walk the beach back to Adder Rock. We walked the 2.6 mile stretch enjoying the sea breeze (perhaps gale might better describe it), negotiating the rock formations between Deadman’s Beach and Cylinder Beach, and observing the fan patterns made by the sand crabs that burrow in the sand and spit out little balls while sifting their food. These balls make fascinating and intricate patters around the burrow hole. As the day wore on the winds did not dissipate and were blowing at 30-35 miles per hour, near gale force. The waves were several feet high and the salt spray was quite noticeable.

We were very grateful for the stand of trees between our camping spot and the beach. The families we were with called for happy hour on the beach to watch sunset. The sky was clear and cloudless but the wind a bit on the strong side. Not to be deterred though, we spread a sheet on the sand and laid out the cheese and crackers and chips. Within seconds, the “tribe” of 7 kids, ages 5-12, descended and devoured the snacks in lightening speed with perhaps a light coating of sand for garnish. Sunset for me was a peaceful soulful way to wind down the day.

Dinner was sausages cooked on the communal barbecue grills. Here at Adder Rock, this was a covered eating area with a center counter and four separate grills with sinks between to wash dishes. Four electric outlets were extremely popular and served cooking but more often as the charging stations for the campers who did not have their own sources to re-charge the vast array of tech devices. Though there was wi-fi at the campground I opted to use it minimally, notably to conserve battery but to be more present where I was.

A new day, Sunday, dawned with a clear blue cloudless sky and the chit-chat outside my tent right around my head was the 5:15 am alarm clock. In retrospect today was he day of the shifting agenda. Due to the ongoing near gale force winds and the high seas, the families decided to head to the South Gorge, a beautiful protected cove and then possibly the Main Beach on the east side of the island where the waves were not quite as intense and a safer swim area for the kids. It was a truly lovely spot to enjoy a few hours on the sandy beach with clear chilly aqua water.

After a brief swim I set out for a walk assessing that folks would be there an a while. It was glorious, though windy and much to my surprise when I arrived back after a 1 hour walk, everyone was gone except Nick, who was waiting for me. He was a bit dismayed as well with the changing directions so quickly. My metaphor for this was that of the shifting sands of the tides. The other three families and Miriam and Luke were up the embankment at a restaurant called “Loaves” and Miriam had purchased a sausage roll for us. Soon the group (the other three families) were off to a small inland lake called Brown Lake where better wind and conditions were anticipated. Nick and Miriam where quite laid back and willing to follow course so that Luke could run with the pack. However it was quite windy with a bit of a chill to the breeze, but we settled on the beach for the kids to swim. However it seemed that within the half hour, the major planner in the family group was up and off as she deemed it too windy, though the kids were having a grand time in the lake throwing mud on each other. By now, I was ready to head back to our campsite as flitting from place to place by this point was not very enjoyable for me. Happy hour was at the campsite and a pasta dinner was prepared by our chief chef Nick per usual. I find It always a bit edgy to watch the 2 quart pot of boiling water balanced on the three slim ‘feet” of the tiny backpackers stove and not anticipate a potential disaster of spilled a la dente pasta and se it slithering across the table when one slight bump of the table would causes the pot to slide off its petite perch. Disaster however did not ensue.

The next morning was bright and beautiful with the ongoing 29-35 mph gale force winds. Needing some solo time, I opted for a solitary adventure rather than the planned birthday lunch out for one of the women to the “tribe.” I anticipated a 9-10 mile walk, heading into Point Lookout via the road and a return by the beach. Walking the road was relatively routine, but negotiating the winds of a two mile stretch of Main Beach, the North Gorge Boardwalk and the beaches along the north stretch to adder Rock required a fair amount of extra energy and felt quite bracing. I enjoyed quiet time at the campsite to re-energize after a splendid and invigorating walk. Luke shared with me that the lunch was great fun and the food, especially the cake were delicious, but nevertheless I was quite content with my choice of quiet time away from the group.

The afternoon and evening were laid back as Nick had to return to the city for work. Miriam and I opted not to cook after the usual happy hour snack time. Luke was feeling sad and tired and I was beginning to feel ready to be heading back the next day to the city. Our departure for the mainland was scheduled for the noon ferry so after a much less windy 4 mile am beach walk, Luke and Miriam’s swim in the waves that were much more boogie board friendly, we broke camp. I managed to organize all of the gear in the Yaris with room to spare given that we were down to 3 people and one less bag. We thus headed to Dunwich and were on the ferry back to Brisbane for a much more rolling and windy ride.

 

 

September 7th:  In making my reservation from Medford to LA, I thought I was taking the simplest avenue to getting myself to LA for the flight to Brisbane Australia: a direct flight and no plane changes through Portland or Seattle, which of course are in the opposite direction I am headed. . And even though it wasn’t a horrific decision I was not one of my finest in retrospect. Air Alaska had the only direct flight from Medford to LA, leaving at the 6:54 AM, which put me in LA at 9:15 am. This was an overly generous window of safety of 14.5 hours before my 11:55 pm Brisbane flight. Somehow I had imagined myself spending time in LA without thinking about the 40 pound suitcase, my “beast of burden,” that I would be hauling around and the cost of a taxi (or Uber) to where I was not sure I even wanted to go.

It was a bit cumbersome but i managed to transport my “beast of burden” on rollers to the International terminal, a half mile zig-zag between the hoards of other travelers hauling bags, hailing taxi’s, desperately smoking, or just downright waiting and rudely blocking the walkway. The bag issue is tied to the policy of most airlines not allowing check-in of bags more than 4 hours prior to the flight. Last year when traveling to Brisbane, Quanta did not even open a check-in desk until 7:00pm. This time I was flying Virgin Australia and there was no reason to think otherwise.

I have visited LA numerous times and have never developed any fondness for it whatsoever. So I not-so-brightly made the decision to settle in at the international terminal at LAX and entertain my self with reading, phone calls, my computer, Candy Crush on my tablet and eating. Now I prepared quite a large bag of emergency rations for the trip and I was tempted to chow down on everything out of sheer tedium. I had forgotten how insane and noxious I find the the international terminal at LAX. First there is very limited areas to comfortably “hang out” and that also have the capacity to keep one “plugged in.” It does not feel like the modern airport that accommodates the great need of so many of us to make sure all our tech gadgets are fully charged. Secondly, it is a mass of travelers who are pushing carts full of many suitcases, boxes, and all manor of things to be transported overseas. Each cart takes up the space of 2-3 people depending on how much overhang there is to the baggage. Between all the carts, the enormous queue’s (rivaling those of any popular Disney ride) at the multitude of airline counters (most of which I had never heard of) and the vast number of people, I was now berating myself for itinerary I had chosen. I settled in at the one counter designed for the “plugged in “ traveler. It had 10 seats and I soon began to worry about loosing “my spot” should I have the need to use the ladies room which of course necessitating unplugging everything and hauling the “beast of burned” with me. So, I began to ration my sips of water. Needless to say the inevitable happened about three hours later and I bid farewell to the outlet counter for the ladies room.. By now it was time for a latte . Waiting in line there killed considerable time and with latte in hand i checked to see if the flight information for my Virgin Australia  flight was posted yet on the flight information board. Voila! It was but the check-in was assigned to T2. Since there was no such counter here I made and inquiry at information only to find that I would need to go to Terminal 2. So I commandeered a luggage cart left by someone near my old and now occupied spot. I then wove my way about 1/4 mile to Terminal 2 and there were the OPEN Virgin Australia counters, no lines,  and I could check-in and check my bag NOW!

 

I celebrated by taking a 2 mile zigzagging brisk walk, pushing my luggage cart with my backpack on it from end to end of the drive between terminal. Back to International and with boarding pass in hand and the beast checked in, i could go through security and head to the international departure lounges, stores and gates to hopefully find a more comfortable spot to wait out the remaining 9 hours before the flight. The food court it was with plugs abounding!

The time passed tediously and uneventfully and about an hour before my flight I headed to the gate only to discover that the flight coming in had been delayed and our departure would be delayed an hour. Finally around 1:00 am the plane departed.

A few days before I left I decided to upgrade for $119.00 to “premium economy.” I rarely consider that but given a 14 hour flight I chanced it might be worth it for tad more room. I wasn’t too impressed with the offer of noise cancelling headphones but they were the best part of the whole package. I could not only hear the movie clearly but I could NOT hear the fussing and crying children in the row ahead and all of the engine noise. I managed to sleep about 5 hours and they served me well.

Quite often through the 15 + 14 hours of WAITING I kept thinking of the Dr. Suess Book “Oh, the Places You’ll Go” … and the section addressing the “Waiting Place” … for people just waiting…
Waiting for a train to go
or a bus to come, or a plane to go
or the mail to come, or the rain to go
or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow
or the waiting around for a Yes or No
or waiting for their hair to grow.
Everyone is just waiting…
…and it’s very fitting ending:

“You’re off to Great Places! Today is your day! Your mountain is waiting, So… get on your way!”

September 9th: And so I am … on my way…with an early morning arrival at Brisbane, almost breezing through customs until the luggage carousel jammed and I could see my bag just out of reach ( it would have been the next to drop.) So fifteen minutes later I ended up in a long queue of hundreds of slowly moving folks with their piled high luggage carts who had now not so cleverly got through the first phase. But finally after almost an hour since landing I was hugging son Nick and grandson Luke and begging for coffee!

A missed turn back to Wynnum, a Brisbane suburb let us through the Port of Brisbane on Moreton Bay, with its cruise terminal, many births and many tons of cargo containers and coal cars (main export). I doubt that there are many people who get the this excellent grand tour of the Port, especially on the first day of their visit.

 

Wynnum is a suburb of Brisbane, where my son and his family live. The first week would be spent in Wynnum before the next two weeks of holiday. Nick and Miriam were still working and Luke in school. Since I opted not to borrow their car and set in motion a potential hazard of me driving on the left side of the road and having a “some-timers” moment, I am out-and-about walking many many miles. This is a very walkable community so after a 3-12 mile walk for health (and preparing for a half-marathon in Portland Oregon in three weeks), I walk to the store, to get a latte, walk Luke to of from school and generally enjoy the awesome weather. Brisbane is segueing into spring and it is in the 70’s, dry and sunny with the 50”s at night. We overlook Moreton Bay and there is a walking and bike friendly path for miles along the bayshore. I am practicing being an “Aussie” but but all I have to do is open my mouth and my American accent is a dead give-a-way. I can’t even say “good-day” without being spotted. I am practicing looking to the right and then the left so I don’t get run over. I am trying to figure out the light switches which you turn down to turn on. I love the sound of taking a “bush walk” or trekking.

September 9-15: Events of the week: Saturday, arrival day, was beautiful so a bush walk was in order. Nick, Luke and I headed to the Karawatha Forest, one of the largest areas of remanent Bushland in Brisbane area. It is the dry season and extremely dry and the eucalyptus forest appeared parched. Having hiked extensively in the Myakka Forest and Prairie in Florida, and though the climates are quite similar, the vegetation is very divergent. Instead of palms, palmettos and pine trees we trecked amidst eucalyptus and melaleuca. As hard as I looked I was not able to spot any koala bears which inhabit the area. Sunday was family day and I was able to pick up a few swim stroke tips when I watched Luke’s swim lesson. We wound down the day with a picnic by the Bayfront and a very cautious walk out on to the mud flats as the tide was out.

 

Monday night was a rousing game of Trivia at the Wynnum RSI with friends. My 8 (Monday) and 12(Friday) mile walks took me from Wynnum, through Manly and on through Lota and the Ransome Reserve. The walk is primarily along the bay front and the flora encountered is both wetlands of mangrove and eucalyptus forest. The Lota boardwalk winds through the mangroves and on my Friday was I just about put my hand on the head of a 8 foot long python (i think) that was crawling along the railing of the boardwalk.. Since Australia is know for its critters I took it in stride, snapped a picture and moved on. A 9 mile walk took me in the opposite direction though Wynnum North and another 1.5K boardwalk though the mangroves and a birdhide overlooking the salt marshes.

I knew needed to get up and out if I hoped to find any camping spot. So after just one cup of coffee I quickly packed up (whew no camp to break) and had us on the road. Lovely “blond” mountains were the scenery of the day in eastern Oregon. They were mostly dressed out in varying shades of straw, tans, yellows and dotted with sage brush. That gave way to relatively barren ranch land and some broader valleys and farms. Again very scenic Central Oregon Highway. I arrived in Bend, gassed up and headed south as fast as I could. The Gull Point Campground on was about 40 miles and off the beaten path. I arrived to see a campground full sign and all the non-reservable sites occupied. Figured I would head to Tasia that being the case but made a wrong turn instead of the exit and came across one open site that was quite large and quite private. It was the last one available. So I opted to take it for two nights. For whatever the reason I had not yet had my fill of tents, vault toilets, dirt etc. It is on Wicklup Reservoir and seemed quite nice but I had not given much thought to what the focus of most of the campers would be. However as the day wore on I could not get over how much coming and going there was. Numerous pick-up trucks and SUV’s kept going buy.More and more vehicles kept filling the campground with often several on a campsite. Constant coming any going. It is on a lake and the array of toys and the number of site with two or three families on them was more crowded and busy than any of the camping sites. I began to think this was not going to be the peaceful final camping experience in the Oregon Forest that I had envisioned. Kili was on edge and guard most of the time ready to pounce on the kids on bicycles, other individuals walking dogs. Since he was on a line he just about choked himself numerous times. I had an interesting walk around the campground, somewhat astonished by all of the stuff folks had for a week-end in the woods: Power boats, jet skis, paddle boards, canoes, kayaks, floats, tubes, fishing boats, ski boats, bicycles, 4 wheelers, dirt bikes, chairs, satellite dishes, barbecue grills, a myriad of tents in addition to the RV’S, screened dining rooms etc. etc Makes me think the even though I talk about all of my stuff, just how much can a Prius and moderate sized car top carrier hold. I am no completion for these “professional campers.” When the dogs and I settled in for the night, it wasn’t the hoot of owl or howl of coyotes I listened to but the shrill voices of many children having fun and some relatively loud adults as well. I was already beginning to think that one night here would be plenty.

I awoke to QUIET. All the revelers were still fast asleep. That naughty little Prissy inside of me so wanted to whoop it up but I managed to talk her out of it and I sat quietly and had my coffee. I decided though that I was DONE camping and would head down to my daughter Tasia’s near Ashland and bag the second night. I was not having a great experience though I do love to seeing so much family activity and togetherness. But first I had a plan to walk as far around the Wicklup reservoir/lake as I could. So the dogs and I set out on a gorgeous cool morning under a bright blue sky and a shimmering lake. With no one out and about yet, I let the dogs off leash and we had a lovely outing and they were able to romp about on the sand, in the marshy areas, through the fields of violets; terrorize the geese; and just generally have a superb walk

By the time we got back, the camping beach goers and boaters were all gearing up and getting their area for the day established with sun shades, chairs, the rafts and water toys, coolers, jet skis and pleasure boats by the beach. I could recall the days when my kids were younger and we would go on beach outings for the week-end with very much the same process of packing gear, setting up, frivolity, good company, lots of laughs and the kids all having a glorious time.

 

But now it was time for me to break camp and head out on the last leg of my westward journey. I continued to take the scenic roads through Oregon and drove down through Crater Lake National Park as a fitting finale for a trip that has been replete with so much incredible and astonishing land. I was surprised to see snow still around the lake as eight years ago my daughter Bernadette’s wedding was on the shores of this caldera lake of an incredibly deep blue color.

With a lot of satisfaction, peace in my heart and such positive feelings about my accomplishments, I pulled into Tasia’s after 38 days on the road, camping 26 of those night, traveling with 2 dogs through 15 states, and driving all of the 7268 mile myself.

 

 

My current plan was to go from Dinosaur National Monument to Crater’s of the Moon national Monument which would involve a hefty drive from the western Utah, taking the scenic routes and avoiding at all costs going through Salt Lake City. The rock formations of Flaming Gorge Reservoir and Recreation Area were of an unbelievable intense hue of red-orange. Every day I am astonished and am as much in awe of the scenery as I was on day one. I must sound like a broken record. But it is such a deep feeling of childlike awe that I continually experience. This land is magnificent and I pray we don’t keep destroying it. Every time I read about opening up National Forest lands for logging or areas for more oil exploration I cringe. As always I enjoyed the drive, made good time and appreciate that there are almost no advertising signs except on the rare occasion that I am approaching a small town that still has a thriving business. There may be one or two advertising billboards on approach but that is it. On so many highways, especially the interstates, I feel assaulted by so much advertisement all of he time.

Much of the land appears quite arid and what farming there is along the route is usually grasslands with stacks and stacks of bales. The rest is ranch land but very few cows appeared to be grazing in the fields. Miles and miles of rolling hills and rock outcropping dotted with sagebrush and juniper primarily. I think what disturbed me most was the polluted air, the SMAZE that was hovering across the land. I first noticed it at an Overlook in Dinosaur National Monument which sees significant SMAZE from the urban air pollution of Los Angeles and Salt Lake City, coal and oil-fired powered plant in Utah and southern Colorado, and oil refineries and oil fields in the area. It seemed to be growing denser across that landscape as the day wore on. It felt almost eerie as if the distance scene was a stage and a scrim had been lowered in front of the lands on the horizon. I can remember when I did an Outward Bound in Utah about 25years ago and being so dismayed upon summiting my first mountain to see this same SMAZE across the mountains and later desert horizon then. It saddened me then and does now. To me, the loss of clear blue skies is another environmental disaster.

As it was getting late I was feeling concerned about getting a campsite but a call to the ranger revealed they rarely fill up during the week. So I arrived there around 5;00 and there were numerous sites available. It was quite a strange sight though, as they were all in the midst of a field of lave and the sites were often very small, close together, with very little privacy and NO shade. I selected one I thought would be great given the circumstances, and it was the highest one in the campground. I could see my tent perch on this flat area atop the site overlooking the black rugged lava rock field. Well, my tent, myself and the wind, wind, wind had quite the fight. I was going to win and I finally got it staked down and up. But I could tell it was going to be a battle I would not win in the long run as the wind was buffeting it constantly, so I pulled it up and set it down in a much more sheltered area backing up to my car. The family next door saw my plight and they all came over and they helped me finally get it settled. With the set up, dinner, and walk of the campground, before I knew it the sun was setting. So i climbed into my bag which was dotted with cinders (as well as the floor of the tent). I somehow can’t seem to get the dogs to shake of the dust, sand, dirt and cinders and wipe their feet before entering the tent and plopping down on my bag.

Even rising early I could feel the day heating up and with no shade and anticipated temps in the 90’s I decided not to stay the second night I had intended. Broke camp (the usual 1:15) and did a driving tour of the monument. Black lava and the arid sagebrush abound but for some reason I had a difficult time getting enthused during the seven mile loop drive. I did the .4 mile steep walk up the Inferno Cinder Cone and from the top the bleakness of the surrounds was even more accentuated. It was quite eerie with the the many cinder cones lined up in the distance and the thunderheads looming over the area. I have so many good and bad memories of lava fields. Riding through the lava fields during the Kona Ironman World Championship is a good memory, though very hot and windy memory. Hiking to the top of the Mauna Loa in Hawaii is the bad one. I started at 10,000 feet, I was not acclimated and I struggled the entire way. Two memories strike me most. I never saw anything living the entire hike up (plant, animal, insect or another human. The other is getting hypothermic at the end of the hike and barely able to warm myself up. I was scared. But this current adventure was not holding any joy for me so I opted to head on out.

I was heading towards Bend, Oregon and decided to search out dog friendly motels. Any motel that was reasonable was SOLD OUT and LaQuinta want $289.00 for a room. Feeling tired and having no real idea about campgrounds, and layered with 3 days of filth I decided to make a reservation at a Super 8 in Ontario OR – about a three hour drive. I got a dog-friendly room at the Super 8 just over the Idaho border in Ontario, Oregon. The last Super 8 I had stayed in Longmont Colorado was very nice so I gave it another go, For expediency I opted to take the Interstate for about 90 miles. I had already forgotten how much I hate interstates but was very quickly reminded of the heavy truck use, high speeds, high volume of traffic and not to forget the piggy back trucks.

When I exited the interstate and right there was the Super 8. Well, though the room was adequate and clean, the surroundings were quite remarkable – in a negative way. It was right next door to a Pilot Gas and Truck stop and there seemed to be a lot of people just hanging around in the parking lot. Lots of smokers and butts around. There was no close place to take the dogs except a trash strewn strip of burned out grass and weeds across the parking lot. Old box springs, furniture and an old dryer were stacked in a corner at end of walkway. My furniture was quaint and old and decor “early ugly”. I just about tripped on a machine being used to repair the dry pond in front of my room. But I had a good shower, good bed and a needed break. I spent quite a bit of time searching out campground around Bend in the Dechutes National Forest and I was not surprised to see that most of them were all ready sold out. I found a couple that had walk-in sites that can’t be reserved ahead and thought I would see if I could get a spot the next day and if not head on through to Tasia’s. It’s almost impossible to get campsites in the National Parks and Monument or National Forest at the spur of the moment anymore now that most sites can be reserved ahead of time. Anyhow the dogs were quite pleased with the digs and i did not hear any complaints from them.