Vancouver

We're using AirBnB to reserve a room in Yaletown, Vancouver.  Our host is a good communicator and someone greets us at the secure lobby. It's a wonderful neighborhood and a great view from the 18th floor.  The flat, however, leaves a little to be desired.  Mattress on the stained carped and mattress springs sticking me in the back.  That's what I get for ordering by price and picking the first one.  We get a perfect dinner at the Cactus Club Cafe (ceviche, fish tacos and Kobe style meatballs on fettuccine. Delicious.

Capping the night with a stroll around the waterfront of Yaletown, we spot malia canoes stroking madly to the yell of the cockswain.

Aquabuses ferry passengers between a number of stops along the shoreline connecting to metro and bus stations.

We get the car oiled, dump a lot of travelling gear into a storage locker, both of us get our hair trimmed and it's to bed by 10:00 PM.

Oh, Canada!

It's a mad dash north across the border to Canada.  We want to accomplish five errands in Vancouver this afternoon. The border guard is curt, polite and decisive.  You have a place to stay? No guns? You're in.

Lake Quinault

We canoe around the entire perimeter of Lake Quinault on the Olympic Peninsula.  That's about 12 miles.  Since the lake gets 131" of rain each year, you will not be surprised to know that we got rained upon.  This lake lies within the Quinault Indian Reservation.  We had to buy a license to use the lake - with our canoe - from the Indians!  What gives?  One things for sure... we're going to bed early tonight.

Laundry Day

When you're on the road this long there are administrative tasks...

Elk!

We stopped at every roadside attraction sporting signs of elk all the way up from California. But no dice.  Finally today, we see a herd of 20 elk in the wild.  We spot them across the Hoh River that we've followed from the coast up into the deep mountain valleys of the Olympic Peninsula.  Gorgeous beasts with a patriarch overseeing the herd warily watch a gaggle of tourists snapping photos on the other side of the rushing snow melt.

Fancy Lodgings

We've worked long and hard to get reservations at the Lake Quinault Lodge in the middle of the Olympic Peninsula.  It's a beautifully maintained throwback to the early 1900's maintained by the National Park Service.  We snag a room and reservations for a dinner with a view.  Afterward, I proceed to whip Paula at a game of pool in the billiard room.  Then she schools me in ping pong. Kids watch enthusiastically.  We would have really given them a show but we're dressed for dinner.

Twilight, meet J. R. R. Tolkien

We're in the Hoh Rain Forest in Olympia National Park in Washington State.  This is very near the town of Forks where the Twilight novels are set.  But it looks like a dark forest far from the Shire where the Hobbits would have to venture on their way to Mordor.  What a place of awesome splendor, beauty, silence and mosquitoes.  We keep moving so they can't alight.  Of course the clouds spit.  In fact, they pour.  It would be a rare day indeed where it did not rain here. A hot coffee is calling my name.

Ruby Beach

I'm looking for the quintessential Pacific Beach that is stark and desolate.  I remember dragging kelp around on this beach and playing hopscotch with the only people in the entire universe... my brothers and sisters.  Well, here it is at last.  Ruby Beach.  I find some kelp and make Paula jump as I swing it in circles.  She's too good at it.  This beach has retained it's charming desolate feeling.  You can still light a bonfire using the massive piles of driftwood.  Just be sure to follow the rules.  No bigger than a three-foot fire ring.  No closer to the main driftwood piles than 10 feet.  driftwood no bigger than 12 inches in diameter.  I wish I had brought my matches and some baby back ribs.  We'd have had a barbecue to remember!

Tillamook Cheese Factory

I visited the Tillamook Cheese Factory more than half a century ago.  I need to see if it's the same.  It's actually grown and modernized quite a bit.

Oregon Coast Aquarium

We stop in at the Oregon Coast Aquarium on a whim.  Actually, the billboards along the road to Newport are quite persuasive and funny.  The stop is well worth the $22.50 entrance fee - and we got a triple-A discount.  This aquarium rivals any I've seen with shows all over the grounds every half hour.  We meet Jo Jo the pelican at one show and speak with a diver inside one of the tanks via a speaker inside his wet suit at another.

Giant Spruce Trail

Walking the Giant Spruce Trail in the early morning in the Siuslaw National Forest, we are greeted by misted sunshine and the smell of campfire smoke drifting through the rain forest.  Berries and flowers hang from 6 foot high walls of ferns on both sides of the trail.  The trail leads to a huge Sitka Spruce tree that grew out of a "nurse log" 500 years ago.  That would be about the time of Christopher Columbus (for those of you in Loma Linda).

The Devil Must Have Lived (and Died) Around Here

Devil's Backbone, Crater Lake

Devil's Churn, Cape Perpetua

Devil's Punchbowl State Park

What's with the devil warship around here?  We visited Devil's Backbone and Devil's Churn but just missed Devil's Punchbowl.  Make sure to see the Churn at high tide.

Sea Lion Caves

I remember visiting Sea Lion Cave more than a half century ago.  We decide to stop by again.  It is a well maintained place on the side of Oregon 101.  You descend into the cave by way of an elevator drilled through over 200 feet of solid rock.  It's a fishy-smelling place - but what would you expect? Sea lions bark as they jostle for space and defend the space of their pups.  Its a lot better than I remembered.

Oregon Dunes

Sand Dunes stretch 40 miles up the coast from Coos Bay to Siuslaw.  We stop at the National Park overlook where you can see a vast panorama of mixed dunes, pines and sea grass.  The Oregon Youth Junior Ranger program is researching methods to restore the habitat of the Snowy Plover, an endangered bird whose habitat is in among these coastal dunes.  We are coerced into walking the two mile loop from the observation deck to the surf and back.  Its a beautiful trail.  We sit on driftwood in silence looking for the Snowy Plover.  Its difficult to tell if we've seen one.  There are hundreds of shore birds chasing the foamy surf up and down the sand.

Leaving Coos Bay

Leaving Coos Bay we pass under an Art Deco doodad just before crossing the also Art Deco Conde McCullough Memorial Bridge. The city of North Bend has wrestled with this sign ever since it was put up in 1936.  Wind and weather keep interfering with its function.  In 2011 the city on North Bay restored it with a "Welcome" on one side and a "Come Back" on the other.  It still lights up in neon green.  We pass under in the blink of an eye.  But we see things... we see things.

Oregon Coast Bridges

The Florence Suislaw River Bridge.

Cape Creek Bridge.

Alsea Bay Bridge.

Yaquina Bay Bridge.

Wilson River Bridge.

Astoria Megler Bridge.

Drifting up Highway 101 along the coast of Oregon, we realize that there are a number of historic bridges we are crossing.  We crossed all of the bridges pictured.  It seems that you can make a road trip around here just looking for and photographing these graceful behemoths of last century.

Cavorting Seals

Seals cavort off Cape Arago State Park.  There's a docent at the point with several telescopes pointed out at the furthest rocks where we see a mix of seals, sea lions and elephant seals.  This is a beautifully manicured state park with pathways through the lush ferns and berries hanging along every pathway.

Old Codgers

We sit in the Kozy Kitchen eating a late breakfast in Myrtle Point, Oregon.  Three old codgers in a booth behind us discuss buying property.  It must be out of town. It must be so big that no one can see you.  Most importantly, it must have a bomb shelter. The merits of various designs are discussed. They get up to leave. They are all walking with canes. Paula and I decide that we will hold hands and face the bright flash of light.

Lyndon Johnson's Political campaign ad from 1964.

Steelhead Basecamp

Unbeknownst to us, the Myrtle Trees Motel is a base camp for steelhead fishermen who ply the Rogue and Umpqua rivers that have merrily entertained us all day yesterday as our road followed them down out of the Cascade Range.  We see a few fishermen quietly sharing secrets in the drizzle outside our window.  Most have been long gone by dawn.

Myrtle Point, Oregon

The Myrtle Trees Motel in Myrtle Point, Oregon has an industrious matron.  We enjoy the flowers in a morning drizzle.

Our First Rain in a Month

We welcome the first significant rain we've seen in a month of California and Nevada desert.  And no wonder.  We're approaching the Oregon coastline.

Tokatee National Forest

Dropping rapidly along Oregon route 138, road signs beckon to hidden places.  We walk a half-mile trail through beautiful old-growth forest to Tokatee Falls.

Tall Pines

Highway 138 tumbles out of the cascades through tall pines.  Apparently Weyerhaeuser has a long and sometimes blustery relationship with Oregon.  Much of the timberland managed by Weyerhaeuser is now subject to license fees of up to $150 to hunt.  But the land is full of deer.  We slow down three different times for bucks crossing the road.

Hot Springs

 Travertine Hot Springs outside of Bridgeport, California is surprisingly absent from local tour guidebooks.  Before breakfast we find it almost all to ourselves with the exception of a few early rising locals.

Umpqua Hot Springs presents a series of pools in grades from super-hot to cool as they spill down from a precipice with a view, to a cave at the edge of the icy river.  We try several of them and find it difficult to leave this beautiful and remote place.

Hike to the Bottom

We discover that there are boat tours of Crater Lake that are run by the National Park Service.  Of course we sign up for this unique perspective.  It involves a strenuous hike from the rim to the shore - something that can only be done in one place at the North Entrance.  The trip is worth it.  Our interpretive ranger rides along.  She's a geologist and shares a wealth of knowledge about this caldera and its many facets including the geology, the water, the flora and fauna and the people who have made this a great destination.  Go ahead.  Ask us anything.

Crater Lake

Crater Lake surprises us with cold but beautiful vistas and clear sky.  I haven't been here in more than a half century.  No wonder... its out-of-the-way.

The rim road is banked by snow at 7,000 feet and on the east side of the lake, the road is still closed until the snow melts.  There's snow predicted for this weekend.

Last Gasp

Dusk is falling and we're still on the road.  Highway 97 is the only North-South route east of the Cascade Mountains and its a pipeline of trucks moving at 80 miles-per-hour.  Paula searches on-line for motels on our route.  We find The Whispering Pines Motel and make a reservation.  Its our last gasp.  There's nothing else in sight.  As it turns out, its a rustic little place with some character and it doesn't cost a fortune.  We're happy to be here and Sheila, the proprietor, sees us off the next morning with a hot cup of coffee.

The Land of Pleistocene Volcanoes

A series of great volcanoes pass us in the distance as we wend northward toward Crater Lake.  Most notably, we pass Mt. Shasta with its head in the clouds and Mt. McLaughlin across Klamath Lake.

Power Pole Perspective

Thousands of power poles disappear into nothing at the horizon.

Picnic in Modoc National Forest

We've got everything we need... who needs a camp ground?  Here, outside of Modoc National Forest at the northern edge of California, the wind whips across the dry grasslands.  We've found the one spot in the shade by the side of the road. If we close our eyes, we can keep out the dust.  The sandwiches can be a little gritty, though.  In the background, a cattle-guard shows signs of disrepair but we were not bothered by any longhorn steer today.

Makes You Wonder Why They Stopped Here

A desolate little place off in the distance - one of many in the Nevada desert - reminds me of the Robert Earl Keen lyrics.

Makes you wonder why they stopped here
Wagon must have lost a wheel
Or they lacked ambition one

In the great migration west
Separated from the rest
Though they might have tried their best
They never caught the sun

Unpleasant Surprise

We visit Pyramid Lake.  It's a beautiful place and I wonder why I haven't been here very often.  We're headed north and there are fewer and fewer cars on the road.  In fact, there's nothing but double-length tractors hauling raw ore or gravel.  A road sign approaches.  Our road is renamed "Surprise Valley Road" and we enter the Paiute Indian Reservation.  The road turns to dirt.

But we've committed 50 miles to this direction and it can't be all that bad.  It is.  The dirt road is 20 miles of washboard interlaced with foot-and-a-half deep potholes - some of which I fail to avoid while peering through the dust of a big rig in front of us doing 30 miles-per-hour.  I'm going to need a front-end-alignment.