Monday, June 1
This year’s travels so far have been a delight for me and the crew. From the Sonoran Desert of Arizona to the Salton Sea in California to Arizona’s Colorado River area to eastern Nevada (finding Reggie and those desert hot springs!) to southern Idaho and across Oregon to the foothills on the western side of the Cascades. I refer to these places as our “travels” when I really feel they are our homes. Isn’t that fantastic?
Wait a minute — “the foothills on the western side of the Cascades?”
No, I’m not mixing up east and west again!
I’m getting ahead of myself.
Since I didn’t unhitch at our boondock on the north end of Davis Lake (southwest of Bend, Oregon), our departure this morning is quick. We leave early in anticipation of rain. The more miles we can cover without me driving in rain, well, the better!
Without the drama of our arrival (see two posts ago) . . .
We leave the Davis Lake camp.
More specifically, for those of you who follow on a map, we take Forest Road 4660 to Route 46 which traces the eastern edge of Davis Lake. Route 61 (Crescent Cut0ff) brings us to Route 58.
Oakridge is a cool community. Really. It has no average monthly temperature above 72 degrees (F).
I pull into Ray’s Food Place.
Soon we’re back on the road with plenty of provisions packed in the Best Little Trailer. We’re gonna’ drive into the rain . . . . Dark skies ahead . . . .
Lookout Point Reservoir is grey in the rain.
We’re less than an hour from the city of Eugene. Well, I don’t want to drive through Eugene in the rain.
I pull over and consult my Oregon Benchmark atlas. Hmm . . . . Winberry Creek Road might be good . . . .
I open up the BLT and fix a plate of rotisserie chicken for me and the crew. This snack sets us up for the last leg of today’s journey. Well, the rain is letting up . . . .
We take the turn to Lowell.
I’m beginning to wonder if there are any campsites along this increasingly narrow road when a — what shall I say — an incident occurs.
I’ll refrain from sharing the dramatic details.
Suffice it for me to say these two words — logging truck and one-lane road. Well, that’s more than two. Anyway . . . .
No damage to us and, it goes without saying, none to the massive logging truck — that humongous truck that roars around a curve hell-bent for leather, slams on its brakes, skids on the wet pavement, and narrowly misses us as I sit frozen and helpless at the wheel, the precious crew clueless beside me.
I smell the truck’s brakes as we slide past.
Thank God this happens in one of the wider portions of the one-lane road or we woulda’ been . . . . Oh, I wasn’t going to mention all that. Sorry!
Moving right along . . . .
Here’s the boondock! Isn’t it pretty? There’s a fire ring to the right of the big tree, and beyond the site, down a bank, is a creek!
Bridget is smart to stay at camp. This is very spooooo-ky.
Reggie — the fearless, jungle explorer!
Oh my, what have we here? An outhouse . . . without the house!
“Yuck! C”mon, Reg! Let’s get outta’ here!”
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