Oregon

To Tent or not to Tent, a Conga Line Hike and a Non-Creek

uniquelytheoLeave a comment

It is now July 13th and I left Ashland Oregon on June 28th on a mega journey to the coast of Maine and back.. But first a stop on my way to the  Columbia River Gorge in Salem OR to visit with my daughter and my grandkids, Kira and Connor.  After 2 fun filled days of pool swimming, good eats, grand dog walking and  an afternoon at the World Beat Celebration in the Riverfront Park in Salem, I bade good-bye to family at around 1:00 pm on Sunday the 30th.  I was headed off on  the “real” beginning of  an ambitious journey to visit the last six of the continental USA National Parks I had not yet been to. I would be out 63 days  with 36 of them tent camping  and of course no RV-ing for this former Girl Scout, Outward Bound graduate, and backpacker. I am hoping I don’t regret this stalwart attitude.  Given that I am staying in both USA and Canadian National Parks with no access to wi-fi and minimal if any cell coverage, posting blogs will be quite intermittent.

Since I would be traveling along the Columbia River Gorge, I wanted to visit Multnomah Falls, a very popular site along this corridor.  I was forewarned that there was quite  limited parking available.  So I secured a time entry permit that gives a specific hour you can enter the parking lot (though space availability was not guaranteed).   Driving the narrow highway heading east to reach the  falls,  I began to see cars parked along the road at all kinds of jaunty angles and pedestrians risking their life by walking along this squished road. I began to worry about parking. Just opposite the  entrance to the falls was a sign for parking and I didn’t know if this was the place I had reserved but when the  attendant said there was space and the parking fee was 20 dollars (this was a private lot). I figured  for $20.00 and a whole lot of convenience,  I would pony up the fee.

Being mid-summer and the week-end before July 4th,  I think half the population of Oregon decided to visit this falls and many taking the hike to the top of the falls. A very diverse cadre of people were all vying for a spot on the railing for a perfect photo op. I would join the mob but I knew realistically it was impossible to get the full height of the falls in a photo so even though I asked an individual to take a photo of me, it was awful but decided it was not necessary to prove that I indeed had been there.   There were hiking options and the hike up to the bridge was . 2 mile and then to the top 1 mile.  I was game…not really anticipating that not only people but signs often lie ( a national pastime at this point in history) and my rational brain did not engage enough to consider that perhaps hiking to the top of the falls was not the sanest of plans.

But not to be daunted, I trudged on up and up and up around the 11 switchbacks at the hottest part of the day with numerous hikers inquiring how old I was and was I really planning to hike to the top! It still didn’t register that perhaps I was probably taxing my body to its limits. Glad this wasn’t a 5K race as this 5K hike took 2 hours 17 minutes and a pace of 44’28” per mile The finish line would have been removed and the venue deserted.Once back at the trail head, i was exultant that I had the made a very wise decision of parking close. My legs were aching and spent.

 I headed down the historic Columbia River highway, made  a quick stop at Horsetail Falls, and on to The Dalles and a night in the Columbia River Hotel. I was patting myself on the back for cancelling my camping reservation along the gorge since the site description warned of the high noise volume there from the highway next door. The loud highway rumble was the background music  hiking to the top of the gorge. So I was glad for a comfy and nice quiet hotel room until I discovered the air conditioner did not work. Since I did not want to pack up and move to another room I decided to tough it out since I needed to “practice” dealing with the hot and cold temperature options I would encounter in my tent. Besides I was not sure I could walk one more step. The next morning I eased into the day by walking the grounds, observing  the Dalles and marveling at the clarity of the 11,217 feet Mt. Hood in the distance before I headed out to  travel  along this canyon that “houses” the Columbia River. 

The western gorge eco system of lush green forests gave way to a semi arid eco system — a mosaic of mostly treeless hills\ peppered with sagebrush, sporting an array of tans, golds, browns and rusts. There was a certain beauty to this National Scenic Area if you can reconcile the hydroelectric power plants serviced by the 4 dams (Bonnevile, The Dalles, John Day , McNary ) of this section of the gorge with the concomitant high voltage transmission lines. Additionally in the last few years the proliferation of wind power as a source electricity has resulted in this area of the grassy savannah of the Columbia Plateau being dotted with windmills. I often lament the price our planet pays for our relentless need not only to survive but to increase and multiply and grow the domestic product index the huge need to consume, consume, consume ad nauseam.

The destination on July 1st was Beauty Creek Campground in Coeur d’ Aline. So far the drive on this trip has been nerve racking. For expediency it was necessary to take the Interstates which were abuzz with every assortment of cars, regular semi-trucks, semi’s with two or three trailers, wide-loads, self contained RV’s, RV’s pulling boats, 4 wheelers and an array of other conveyance. All were very much in a hurry to get some where or to start their vacation now. I, who promised myself to follow the speed limit on this trip, was the “little old lady” driving the Model-T surpassed by almost all but a very few other Model-T drivers. When I hit Kennewick heading up into Washington I was forever grateful that I did not have a Model T but an SUV with a screen upon which my iPhone displays the iMap route I selected and Siri tells me step by step the distance and which lane to be in…I have no idea how I would have negotiated the lanes and interchange that i would encounter to head up to Spokane. I have no desire to drive through the maze of horribly designed interchanges in Kennewick WA. ever again. I recall the AAA Triptiks of days of yore but one really needs a navigator who can understand maps and has a good sense of direction…but i guess back then there were less travelers and less complicate interchanges – mostly stop and go lights!!!! Once I neared Spokane the traffic was less frenetic and I was entering mountainous terrain and gaining a bit in elevation and arrived at Coeur d’Aline Beauty Creek Campground around 5:45.

I was pleasantly surprise to find #19 at the end of the line, with plenty of distance between campsites and nature’s “privacy screens” of thick vegetation and trees.  Reserving a campsite online is a crapshoot.  What you hope you are getting and what you actually get are often two different things.   I won at craps this time since many of the sites were in an open field. Though I reserved a creekside site, Beauty Creek was no beauty and no creek but a dry bed of stones and decaying logs,   This was to be my first go at setting up my campsite – new tent, new cot etc. and I was racing against an ominous looking sky ready to dump. I fumbled about but eventually managed while encountering only a few spatters of rain.  My weary body said enough.  Tonight is not the night to cook a hot meal.  So began the challenge of how to organize all of my necessary and not so necessary stuff in the tent and what stuff would rest better in the car. It began by tossing everything in all direction all over the car  which I had so meticulously organized prior to departures. The upside was I was able to select only the necessary items for this one night stand and not have to drown inside the tent in my piles of stuff. I’d like to report that I slept well in my new digs with my traveling Squishmallow., Banks the Badger. Banks loves to camp.

Hoh (not Ho, Ho-Ho or Hi-Ho) Rainforest and Olympic Park Hurricanes

uniquelytheo1 Comment

When contemplating a trip to a national park in days gone bye, the major decision was which campground or backpacking trail was the destination and thus reserve accordingly. I would not want to venture that those option are completely off my radar, but my current bent is more towards a stay in one of the iconic National Park Lodges. My mission is to spend any inheritance that has the potential to be forthcoming to my heirs when I go misssing… hopefully several years down the road. So with an anticipated stay in Olympic National Park and a desire to focus on the western coastal area and the Hot Rain Forest, a given for me was to make a reservation at the Kalaloch Lodge, an historical building with minimal amenities at a 2024 inflationary price tag.

A note about park hotels and lodges: In order to preserve wildlife and wilderness, I think the best idea back in 1872 was setting the Yellowstone region aside as a national park thus beginning the creating of a network of parks. The next best idea might well have been the creation of the National Park Lodges. These structures were built with a vision of blending in with the environment via architecture that now has been coined as “Parkitecture. ” This is the rustic architecture that harmonizes with nature, – building something that fit right into place and not detracting from nature’s beauty. It features wood and stone from the area, has massive overhangs, wide logs, timber columns and very large common areas… magnificence without the glass and metals in favor today by most and another way we become totally disconnected from the natural world.

National Park lodges are not like today’s typical hotel rooms.  If you need  multiple USB plug-ins, a color flatscreen TV with cable, a gym, High-speed WIFI, complimentary continental breakfast, and a swimming pool,  be forewarned, this is not the place for you. Many of the National Park Lodges were constructed in the early 1900s an  era  when leisure travel was a social event.  This  meant getting dolled up for dinner and actually socializing with other guests. Many lobbies had  large fireplaces, many seating areas, usually a  gift shop, and a piano. Many of the hotel rooms themselves were small and did not have a private bath or shower, saving the extra space for the  larger communal areas such as a large dining rooms and lobby.

Kalaloch Lodge, built in 1925, is one of those relics of a past era with limited facilities (such as wi-fi in the lobby only, no TV, no swimming pool, no cell service in area) but I gladly spent $ 359.00 a night (least expensive room) to stay in the Seacrest house at this historic property . It’s a beautiful location on a bluff with access to a wildly sumptuous beach.

Olympic is one of the mid-sized national parks of about a million acres but when I reserved the room at the Kalaloch Lodge I anticipated a short drive to the Hoh Visitors Center and hiking trailheads. I was surprised to discover it was at least 40 miles and an hours drive along a rural winding road. At that point I began to realize the shear size of this park. It is not just a small outpost on the Olympic Peninsula in Washington, but three ecosystems: snow-capped mountains, temperate rain forests, and 70 miles of stunning coastal beaches. This is the perfect destination in our society of over-choice and FOMO (fear of missing out.). That’s me! I was intent on experiencing the diversity of all of them. Not having three full days and with my friend’s affinity for hugging trees, the biggest focus would be the Hoh Rain Forest. So the next morning we were heading there on a beautiful sunny day but this was not on a day that would be adding to the 140 inches of the annual precipitation which feeds its lush canopy and dense undergrowth. We would not be able to experience Hoh in all its dripping glory as it is directly benefits from buckets of fluid leaking from the heavens.

It was a totally immersive experience as I took a deep dive into the Hoh woodland. While hiking the 1.25-mile Hall of Mosses trail, I was “swimming “ in a sea of geriatric moss-covered Sitka Spruce with buttressed moss covered roots, Western Hemlock, Western Redcedar and the mighty Douglas firs. Many of these trees are over 700 years old in this oldest of rain forests in North America. This forest is thick, wet, furry, and dense with many vibrant shades of green ranging from a brilliant emerald to a dusky sage. It is a “Tolkien-esqe” jungle of spongy moss draped giant trees and their understory that is filled with fallen trees, saplings, and ferns. I was again feeling insubstantial and humbled as I hiked in this garden of plants and trees dripping moss and tried to imagine the history that has unfolded during the lifetime of the oldest of the giants. My imagination ran a bit wild envisioning dinosaurs roaming this jurassic jungle. The 1.2 mile Spruce Nature Trail, much less crowded, was now must as I was not yet sated by the trees and the army of epiphytes that surround them. It also served up views of the wild Hoh river.

I was again feeling insubstantial and humbled as I hiked in this garden of plants and trees dripping moss and tried to imagine the history that has unfolded during the lifetime of the oldest of the giants. My imagination ran a bit wild envisioning dinosaurs roaming this jurassic jungle. The 1.2 mile Spruce Nature Trail, much less crowded, was now must as I was not yet sated by the trees and the army of epiphytes that surround them. It also served up views of the wild Hoh river.

After a harrowing drive back … mind you it was not harrowing for me as the driver but for my passenger who has very little experience being a passenger with a driver who is quite assertive in how she approaches the task of getting somewhere on these narrow curvaceous hilly roads. I vowed to do better next time. Once safely back at the Lodge I determined it was time to explore the beach with its wind-sheared trees, museum of driftwood sculptures, wind swept sands, and eroded sea cliffs. The sky was a clear expanse of blue, the sun shining bright, the wind strong and relentless. Though invigorating, the sandpapering of my legs , all the while pushing against me, did not promote the kind of connection with nature I was seeking. So I meandered up by the egress of Kalaloch Creek, exploring the massive driftwood “carvings” and meandering along this wind-swept beach.

I awoke to a bright and beautiful day for traveling the perimeter of Olympic National Park and then onward to Mt. Rainier. But first I opted to stop just north of the Lodge at “The Tree of Life.” Which Tree of Life do you think I discovered here at Kalaloch? Do you recognize the others?

The Olympic Tree of Life, a Sitka Spruce is quite unique, located on the edge of a sandy bluff- and straddling two cliffs. Erosion from a stream flowing behind the tree weathered away the ground underneath it. A few coiling stems cling to each side of the cliff support the tree’s weight, which by any rational standard should not be able to support its massive size, especially with the rugged wind and storms on the coast.

There definitely is no direct way to cross the park to experience the northern region. The park is encircled by a well-maintained very scenic perimeter road of 329 miles. (Hwy 101) with a few more short paved roads penetrating the interior and dead ending. So if I intended to visit Crescent Lake and Hurricane Ridge I would need to head north and east on the narrow loop road and today adopt a gentler but firm approach to negotiating the twist and turns, the sharp bends and arcs with less focus on the thrill of the drive and an adrenaline rush, especially if I want to maintain my friendship and finish the trip and not have my friend demand an immediate transport to the Seattle Airport. I will save those exhilarating drives of being one with the road when traveling solo.

Two hours later we were skirting Lake Crescent and remarking on its crystal-clear deep blue waters viewing it against the backdrop of the Olympic Mountains and the lush temperate rainforests. It was tempting to stay and drink in the tranquility of this lake but Hurricane Ridge beckoned.

At Port Angeles so began the 18 mile ascent from the coastline at sea level up to 5200 feet. The traverse is initially through dense forest but opening up to vistas of distant peaks, including the 10,778 ft Mt. Baker, and eventually transitioning into subalpine and alpine topography.

The journey itself, along the road’s twists and turns (yes I found it exhilarating even at a rational pace) ) was as much a part of this adventure as the hike up the High Ridge Trail. The road dead ends and from there we simply enjoyed the panoramic views of the Olympic Mountain Range with its snowcapped mountains , evergreen forests and Mt. Olympus..

But, I was yearning for a hike, so decided to hike at least part of the High Ridge Trail. A popular and easily accessible trail, there was no paucity of other trekkers. Black-tailed deer were grazing at the trailhead and seemed totally undisturbed by the bevy of humans trespassing on their meadow. We made an elevation gain of about 250 feet and a 2/3rds of a mile ascent and though this seems like an almost nothing hike compared to “what-could-have-been “ we would opt to not go further given minimally a 5-6 hour rive to our nights destination . The views may have gotten even better but I would not be appreciating them on the very curvy, switchback twisting road to Paradise Inn in Mount Rainier National park after dark .

A Whale’s Tail/Tale and Just Another Coastal Rock

uniquelytheoLeave a comment

Feeling thoroughly diminutive admidst the Redwood behemoths (of course at 4’11” it is hard not to feel minuscule most places), I was ready to head up the coast of Oregon to hopefully reclaim a feeling of altitude. I have always found the Oregon Coast a spectacular place to experience. The massive sea cliffs overlooking the ocean waters are both picturesque and impressive but this image becomes significantly enhanced by the large, unique sea stacks, those insane rock formations that are jutting out from the sea. The sheer size and shape of them is quite impressive to witness. In fact, I yet again felt pretty small and insignificant with this array of “rocky beasts” sitting in front of me. Sea stacks are amazing vertical rock formations standing in the sea that were formed entirely by wind and water. The sea creates cracks in the headland, which later collapse, and thus forms free-standing stacks.

There were many scenic viewpoints overlooking Oregon’s free public coastline and my first pullout was at Harris Beach State Park just north of Brookings, a mere 27 miles up the coast. from Crescent City. Harris Beach offered a splendid seascape of a sea stacked coast and a driftwood dotted expansive beach. After soaking in the “serenescape” with the lapping of the waves on this beachy shore, I began to realize that if I stopped at each vista it would be way past nightfall before we made it up to the next stop of Depoe Bay OR (187 miles total).

So I drove gently (well maybe not so gently)  up the coast until our lunch stop 3.5 hours later at Gardiner and its overlook of the Oregon Dunes National Recreation Area. This is  a 40-mile-long playground for sand-boarders, dune buggies and off-highway vehicles so if you are into climbing up sliding sands or roaring about in a noise emitting buggy this is the place for you. .  Not being a fan of noise-enhanced recreation,  unless it is a product of the earth’s natural forces, I made note to not put this area on the top of my bucket list of things to do in Oregon.  To each his own!

Yet again,  its hard for Lady Spitfire (my car’s name) to not just veer off into a random scenic pullout so I found myself at the Tokatee Klootchman State Natural Site on a bend that is dangerous to pull into when  traveling northbound between Florence and  Yachats. .  The  big vista  from this  elevated wayside is pleasing but not flashing dramatically plunging cliffs nor vast dunes. I viewed  cobbled pockets of beach between dark bedrock formations and thought it perhaps would be a good whale watching vantage point but the steep overgrown trail down to the beach  did not call out to me. Soon we were safely back on the road and finally arrived  at  the Lincoln Beach/Depoe Bay area, and our bed-siting-room  for the next two nights. Our hotel,  definitely weathered beaten by the offshore winds and perching perilously  close to the eroded bluff, was a great spot to  for a land lubber to scan the horizon for whales. Though weather worn on the outside we were in lovely refurbished room overlooking the ocean. 

Why Depoe Bay?  A seawall  protected town,  Depoe  Bay’s  harbor is noteworthy for being the smallest natural active navigable harbor in the WORLD.    But that can’t surely be the reason for choosing Depot Bay you might surmise as I have never been on a tear to search out  navigable harbors (US National Parks for sure but not harbors). 

Voila! Depoe Bay is also known as the “whale watching capital of the Oregon Coast”. The ocean currents near Depoe Bay seem to draw whales to its horizon and the town, anticipating whale migrations, has a Whale Watch Center (which was closed the day I was there), shore observation decks, and charter boats for up-close viewing. Since 20,000 whales migrate south and then back north yearly, I anticipated catching the end of the northward migration which occurs between March and end of first week of June. Since it was the last week of May I was eager but also resigned to settle for observing a few of the stragglers carving their way north.


So the next morning we made our way down to Depoe Bay and hopped aboard a zodiac RHIB (Ridged Hull Inflatable Boats) for what I hoped would be a thrilling whale watching tour. First some caveats. I was not exactly thrilled when the skies let loose with a downpour as we were readying to board our inflatable. I was even more rattled and less than thrilled as I had to negotiate the hypotenuse of a right triangled gangway ramp to reach this “rubber duck”. At this point I had a flashback to the last time I was in a rubber boat …a white water rafting adventure where everyone ended in the drink, so I didn’t exactly try to hop aboard this dinghy. So it was even a less thrilling challenge getting from the dock into this rubber dinghy which meant getting my body onto and over the flexible tubing to the bench seat in the aft of the raft. But with assistance of our “Salty Dog Sailor “ who would be piloting our craft, I deftly plopped myself onto the bench seat in the stern, ready for our “Whale’s Tails” excursion as we navigated through the world’s smallest navigable harbor. Wow! Well, to be honest, I wasn’t exactly wowed by the harbor!

The brochures advertising this excursion touted these boats as low-to-the-water, comfortable, quiet, speedy, maneuverable, and stable allowing one to spend more time around the whales and have an up closer and more personal perspective of whales and other marine life. Of course this premise assumes that there is going to lovely weather and there will be whales with whom we can have this very personal relationship. I am sure theses massive aquatic mammals were gliding gracefully through the deep blue blending into the underwater world, disappearing into the depths of the vast ocean, but on this day they did not have the courtesy to indulge me by dramatically emerging from the depths, surging upward, and majestically leaping skyward and descending with a thunderous smash… or to even spout a gentle mist from a blowhole. I am surmising that their echolocation capability sensed the somewhat tumultuous waters above generated by the wind and rain and wisely had no desire to emerge from the calmer seas below. Approximately 200 gray whales are “residents” and hang out between from June to October in the area but chose not to grace our whale watch expedition.

This was definitely an adventure but not of the kind I anticipated. I do not even have to tell a tall tale about having a thoroughly immersive encounter with the elements of nature, experiencing the untamed energy of a steely gray ocean, the hiss of the raindrops on the water, and my cold rain drenched attire. Oh, and lest I forget, the pleasure of being choked by the bulky orange “buoyancy aids. ” Our total wildlife sightings: one flock of birds feeding on a school of fish, 4 harbor seals on a channel marker, and 5 harbor seals on the harbor embankment. My gratitude list: I was not seated in the bow with the wind and rain pushing against me and I was somewhat protected from a total direct hit of the piercing drops by the pilot’s console and windshield.

After stripping off the drenched outerwear it was time to do the other touristy thing. Depoe Bay is clearly a tourists’ town, evidence by the large number of tourist tchotchke shops and eating establishments advertising clam chowder. So, who am I to try and swim upstream, so I had a nice hot bowl of clam chowder at the Chowder Bowl of Depoe Bay. Afterwards I decided to have a bit of a personal chat with Sasquatch as it seemed every tourist shop, retail clothing store, sock shop etc. had a picture of this large, hairy, humanlike creature emblazoned upon just about anything. I was hoping to get a bit of insight into this phenom but he/she was quite mute. A visit to the whale watching center was thwarted due to the fact it was closed.

The day naturally turned sunny late afternoon and I was motivated to walk the beach of Fogerty Creek State Recreation area near our hotel.  The erosion is significant but it is definitely a fascinating peek into the geology of some of the coastal area.

One of the best night-caps ever was a brilliant sunset at the end of a wonderful day of adventure.

The following day was a travel day and I was headed up to the Kalaloch Lodge in Olympic National Park WA. Enroute, my intent was to stop in Cannon Beach, renown for its sea stacks and the iconic Haystack Rock. Cannon Beach appeared quite trendy and a stop at the Driftwood Restaurant was a wise choice before venturing towards the beach and stacks. Parking was limited so wanting to get up close to the rock required parking on a side street and walking about 1/3 mile to the staircase which was the ingress to the beach.

This 235 foot monolith(3rd in the world in size)  is impressive and the “marine garden” surrounding it is vibrant.  The tide pools are teeming with green sea anemones, sea stars , barnacles, and rocks elegantly draped in brilliant lacy mats of green algae. A poor rating of one star on Trip Advisor stated” it is just a rock…we didn’t bother getting out of the car.”  They have no idea what they truly were missing out on. 

I could have stayed longer, mesmerized by the tide pools and this seaside sanctuary but I still had minimally a three and one-half hour drive to the Kalaloch Lodge so I bade farewell to this breathtaking seaside landmark. We were no longer hugging the coast but the drive to Kalaloch was low traffic winding rural road and we arrived at the Lodge by the dinner hour.