Friday, June 12
“Okay, crew. This is it. The forest. Are you sure you want to do this? It could get very spooooo-ky.”
Bridget and Reggie are not deterred.
These two explorers are rarin’ to go!
And so it is that we leave the safety of our camp at Hebo Lake, east of Pacific City, Oregon, and begin our trek on the 8-mile Pioneer Trail.
It’s an arduous journey.
The crew is determined to overcome all obstacles!
It is our good fortune that other pioneers have come this way before us, beginning in 1854, and the trail is clear. This was a route for homesteaders between the Willamette and Tillamook Valleys.
We pause in our journey to appreciate the wonders of the forest . . .
. . . from the tree tops . . .
. . . . to the mossy floor.
The trail ends at South Lake at 2,400 feet. Not high, but about a thousand feet higher than Hebo Lake.
There’s a campground at South Lake which doesn’t open until June 15th, which is A Big Clue as to the temperatures. I’m not interested in camping there because the temperatures at Hebo Lake are just right — pleasantly brisk.
The trail becomes steep.
I consult with the crew and it is decided that the best course of action would be to turn back. We know our limits. We also know how nice it is to lounge around the campsite and eat stuff.
Saturday, June 13
Our campsite is the only site at Hebo Lake Campground in which the PTV and BLT fit comfortably. Most of the sites are short or unlevel.
I’m a bit uneasy about this site because it is next to a shelter and picnic table available for day-use people.
Today being Saturday, we will find out if my uneasiness is justified.
After breakfast I put Bridget and Reggie in their suits for a walk around the lake.
Folks began arriving yesterday afternoon. More arrive this Saturday morning. They hurry to the bank of the lake and to fishing platforms and cast their lines.
Near a fishing platform I pause for a shot. The man there is rummaging in his tackle box. He looks up and smiles.
“Have you seen the eagle?” he asks.
“No! What eagle? Where?”
He points and I zoom in for the photo. The eagle is in an ideal position above us for watching the activities at the lake.
As the crew and I walk away, I wish the man good luck with his fishing.
“Oh, I’ve already had lots of luck,” he replies, grinning. “We were over to Snyder Lake this morning. My buddy and I caught fifty trout.” He holds his hands apart to indicate they were about 12-15 inches. “Rainbows. We threw them all back.”
I bug out my eyes. “Fifty! And now you’re here . . . . “
“Yeah, we’re after a lunker now.”
“Oh, you fishermen are never satisfied!” We laugh and the crew and I continue our walk around the lake.
(Later I search in vain for the location of Snyder Lake!)
It’s a beautiful day and everyone seems to be enjoying themselves.
My concern about weekenders making life miserable is totally off.
The people at Hebo Lake this weekend are here to enjoy the lake and forest. They fish, walk the trails, have picnics, and watch their children run around and play. They don’t make obnoxious noise. And when they leave, they don’t leave trash and vandalism in their wake.
Sunday, June 14
Decision time. I study my Benchmark atlas. I want to see the northern portion of Oregon’s coast. However, suitable camps are difficult to find. I don’t want to camp at a state park at the beach. Too many people crowded together. Same with the coast’s RV parks.
Inland is unpopulated forest owned by the state. A gazillion logging roads and not much else.
Definitely not where I want to boondock.
Of all the secluded places in which we’ve camped over the past 3+ years, Oregon is the only place where I’ve been reluctant to leave the Best Little Trailer in a boondock while we go off in the Perfect Tow Vehicle. Just a feeling I have . . . and I pay attention to my intuition. Anyway . . . .
I decide we will backtrack.
Monday, June 15
We break camp and motor southward along the coast. It’s dark, windy, foggy, misty, and cold.
We will return to Blackberry Campground and maybe tomorrow we can go to the beach again!
rvsue
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