Wednesday, June 3
Another beautiful day in the neighborhood!
The fact that the “neighborhood” consists of the camp host couple and one other camper adds to the delight of the day. I love an empty campground! Most of this post’s photos are views of Whittaker Creek Campground.
I promised I’d share books that I’ve read and enjoyed.
Maude by Donna Foley Mabry. Boy! Don’t let the plain and simple writing fool you. This book has substance! Writing in the first person, the author tells the story of her grandmother’s life from 1906 to the late 1960s.
15 Months of Winter: My Year in North Dakota by John Bayer. North Dakota as experienced by someone out of Los Angeles — laugh out loud funny! A collection of articles written for a small town newspaper, it’s light reading and fun.
I drive to the Pacific Coast to do laundry. No kidding! The situation is desperate. I load up the Perfect Tow Vehicle with dirty clothes, towels, quilts, comforter, etc., leaving just enough room for Bridget, Reggie, and myself.
Off we go to Florence!
Okay, let me explain some things for you before I go any further.
First off, the drive from Whittaker to Florence on the coast is not what one would call leisurely. The two-lane road has curves like ribbon candy, at least as far as Mapleton.
The Oregon Department of Transportation relies heavily on pull-outs which are wide places in the road. I think there’s an Oregon law that states you’d better get your butt outta’ the way and let people pass if you persist in driving the speed limit. Which I do.
Cars pile up on the PTV’s bumper in A Conga Line Going To Hell as we head to Florence. I pull over, let them go by, and another bunch takes their place, I pull over and let them go by and . . . . You get the picture. Anyway . . . .
It’s a very spiffy laundry. One of those kind you have to buy a card first in order to start the machines. Well, I’m old school and cheap. I prefer the add-a-quarter-as-you-go method of running the dryers. This card method makes it difficult to be thrifty. Laundry that normally would cost $15 at the most, costs $20 and I leave with drying time remaining on the dryers.
Another thing I want to tell you. . . .
When you approach it from the east and get on five-lane Route 101, it doesn’t look like a coastal town. In other words, you can drive to the laundromat past McDonald’s, Taco Bell, a few thrift stores, auto parts, blah, blah, blah without seeing any beach or ocean.
Don’t get me wrong, Florence — “Old Town” — is lovely. The crew and I enjoyed it very much in 2012.
Why do I tell you all this stuff?
Because I hope you’ll understand my behavior. I do the unthinkable. I load up the PTV with the clean laundry and drive myself and the crew right back to the campground!
We will go to the beach, all in good time . . . .
It’s good to be home!
Friday, June 5
Bridget, Reggie, and I head up the trail.
Soon we’re brushing our way through vegetation more energetic that we are. Gosh, we’re gonna’ need to swing from the trees to get through this! I almost step on a six-inch long banana slug. “Ewww!” Okay, that’s it.
“Tally-ho, guys! We’re going back.”
Returning to our campsite, I notice there’s an influx of campers.
People who don’t tow a trailer come up with ways to hold their campsites.
There’s the traffic-cone-in-a-chair method.
One is a man with three children, preteen age. Oh, these are the ones I heard yelling when we were on the other side of the campground. It’s evident this is their usual way of speaking.
“Hey, crew! How about we move camp today?”
It’s too beautiful a day to be annoyed by neighbors, and they’ll be here all weekend.
In a flash we’re packed up, hitched up, and venturing deeper into the forest.
I figure the additional sixteen miles of forest road will keep a lot of folks away . . . . plus it’s always fun to find a new home!
To be continued.
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