Sunday, July 26
No matter how wonderful a camp, it’s a good feeling to be on the road again!
Bridget stretches across the bench seat and Reggie curls up in the doggie bed beside the driver’s seat. As we head out, I review and stow away special memories of Camp Haystack.
The Perfect Tow Vehicle pulls the Best Little Trailer as effortlessly as a toddler with her favorite teddy bear.
Where the heck are we going?
I park at the stop sign at Route 97 and look again at the worn page of my atlas, the page that shows central Oregon with the town of Madras near the middle. Again I browse the campground symbols strewn across Oregon like M & Ms on the top of a child’s birthday cake.
Hmmm . . . This one might be right. Situated on a lake. Higher elevation but not too high. Not an obvious tourist destination, which is good.
Uh-oh. An OHV playground not far away. Twelve miles of gravel road from the highway. That might keep people away.
I wonder if there are mosquitoes up there. No indication of swamp or marsh around the lake. “Sixty-three sites”. . . That’s kind of large, could be a noisy place or might be spread out nicely.
Well, there’s one way to find out and we can’t sit at this stop sign forever.
I turn the PTV’s nose southward and we’re on our way!
The campground I’ve chosen has a dump station. However, it may be an arduous road from Route 97 across Winema National Forest to the campground. I don’t want to risk getting there to find the dump station closed (the black tank is completely full!), so I play it safe and pull into Gordy’s Travel Center in La Pine. A fill-up of gas waives the dump station fee of $8 and grants me a free cup of coffee, too.
It’s a beautiful day!
At Chemult, we turn onto Forest Road 9772 and head west. Slowly the PTV rumbles over washboard gravel, the kind that makes poofs of dust float like talcum powder. I look in the side mirror frequently. The BLT is jouncing around quite a lot and, dang! The outside shower door has come open and the shower hose is bumping along on the road!
I get out, jam it into the compartment, and turn the key in the lock.
This happens four times on the way to the campground. I’m hardly annoyed. It reminds me: The worse the drive into a camp, the better it is for us . . . fewer people! At last a swath of blue appears through the wall of green . . .
There’s Miller Lake!
Past the boat ramp and dock we enter Digit Point Campground. At the self-pay station across from the camp host’s site, I read that the fee is $12 regular/$6 with a senior discount pass. It isn’t long before we’re settled in a campsite along the lake.
It seems that I drove from July to October in one day.
THANKS FOR SHOPPING AMAZON FROM MY BLOG!