National Historic Oregon Trail Interpretive Center

Not far from Baker City is the BLM's National Historic Oregon Trail Interpretive Center. Alas, it's operating under reduced hours these days, and it was closed when we visited June 24. Still we walked a bit of the Panorama Point Trail and saw some of the outdoor exhibits. We have of course encountered the Trail in many other places, commencing in 1972, but it's always of interest.

The Center is up on a hill top overlooking the valley and the Trail

Actual ruts down there by the wagon; we surmised

Among the exhibits, replica wagons

Nice interpretive signage

An 1860s wagon; pretty much after the Trail was over...

In Nebraska, 1972

Ruts in 1972

Baker City, Oregon

Later on down the trail we stopped in Baker City to see the historic district and its buildings and also the dozens of metal sculptures that adorn the town. There's a foundry or two of note locally. Baker City was prominent back in the late 19th century, a mining town that is said to have been the largest city between Portland and Denver. Sic transit, Gloria.

Not a ghost sign, but there were plenty to see

Most interesting...the art deco Baker City Tower

The animal sculptures were everywhere, most life-sized

Informative signage everywhere

So on the basis of having seen hundreds of Mints in hundreds of western towns
over the years, I have concluded it was a franchise, like Dairy Queen 

A bit of main street

Only one other place in the world I have seen where there was an attempt to
either hide or decorate the dumpsters: the Cote d'Azur

Imagine arriving in town, being unfamiliar with the place, maybe a little
buzzed, and trying to parallel park...

The Geiser Grand, 1890s hotel; nice turret

"I can't give you anything but love, baby..."; see Susanville post

Court House

Camping At Phillips Lake, Oregon

We finally departed route 395, taking 26 and then 7, June 22nd, through beautiful Silva Valley, finally landing at another forest service campsite, in the Wallowa Whitman National Forest, at the South West Shore campground of Phillips Lake. It was a dry campground, so the charge was only $5. Such a deal. We stayed two nights, enjoying some milder weather, a few hikes, and some time off the road

View from our campsite

Mountains to the east; Elkhorn Peak (?)

A bit of six mile long Lake Phillips; we were looking for a Tawanaville, but
had to settle for Phillips

Lake Abert and Abert Rim: On To Oregon

From Susanville, our route took us into higher and drier country, routes 139 and then mostly 395, sparser vegetation and water features, but still great scenery if you have a taste for desert landscapes, as the fella* says. The most stunning aspect of all this, as we entered Oregon, was Lake Abert (the former ancient Lake Chewaucan; said to have been the size of San Francisco Bay at one time), and, towering above it, the Abert Rim or escarpment, one of the largest in North America. Our days of driving, so far, have been typical Western basin and range, many of the basins featuring dry or drying lakes like Abert. But Abert is hanging in there, too salty for anything but brine shrimp, good eating for a variety of birds, not least migrating Canada geese. We stopped for some pix and then carried on to a nice, brand new rest area on route 20, a few miles east of Riley. Camping savage, as the French say. As usual, we were not alone.

The road going ever on, by lake and rim

Abert Lake

The opportunity for one of those reflection in the lake pix was irresistible

A bit of the 30 mile long Abert Rim; and terrain; ranges from 1,000 to 2,500
feet above the lake; so the sign said; seen bigger ones in Namibia

And the road went ever on

*Willard van Orman Quine

Susanville, CA

We thought we'd been every which way between Montana and California over the years. Fellow world-wide travelers Rick and Kathy gave us a suggestion--they are experts in finding the roads less traveled--up through the eastern bits of northern California and then Oregon, then across Idaho...and that's how we came to Susanville. We might have passed it up, but I was insistent: because of life-long friend Susan B, Vicki's room-mate in Tallahassee and later bridesmaid, and because visiting Susanville would afford me an opportunity to display my vast knowledge of cinematic history, or at least mention my currently favorite old movie. The fact that Susanville has an accommodating Walmart parking lot, and it was time to stop driving, settled the matter.

Someone else's picture of Susanville, looking, um, east, I
think; it's a medium-sized small town, sort of a regional hub,
with a Walmart, a Safeway, a Les Schwab, and numerous
other necessities and amenities; it is also home to three
penitentiaries, two state, one federal, the town's major
employers; only 8 cases of Covid-19 so far; but all in all,
Susan, I think you're way better off in Tallahassee with Ken

The aforementioned Walmart: one of the quietest ever; I guess they're all pretty
quiet now with the limited hours...

Just as Bogart never said "Play it again, Sam," Cary Grant
never said "Judy, Judy, Judy"; but he did say "Susan!
Susan! Susan! Susan" in Howard Hawks' 1938 Bringing
Up Baby, the greatest of all the "screwball" comedies;
that's Hepburn's derriere he's shielding; but don't trust
me: take a look at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EQ
DbDIz1Y0E; and at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=
y2NZcPNaLeE for context

Let's see: in other news, it was Father's Day, and the plant
light Rebecca and Rachel gave me (a couple weeks back)
is doing fine here in the RV

And, for a special treat, Vicki baked a plum tort, one of my favorites, from
fresh plums off a Menlo Park neighbor's invading plum tree

Along The Oregon Coast, 3

On October 18th we drove leisurely from Florence to Crescent City, CA, stopping at most every overlook, walking a few beaches, shopping here and there in the little towns we passed through: more dunes, more deco, more great coastal scenery. We savage-camped at the casino in Crescent City. And the next day we repeated pretty much the same thing, hoping for better sun and less fog, driving all the way back to Coos Bay, and then back down, past Crescent City to the casino at Elk Valley, where we did yet another savage-encampment. Despite the fact that some of our savage-camping is done at Native American casinos, savage-camping is more generally what the French call wild- or dry- or free-camping; a charming term, much more interesting, to me anyway. Today's western US casinos, even the less opulent ones, are anything but savage; they are raking in the white man's cash in ever more sophisticated ways...good on 'em.

The next morning, the 20th, we awoke to a text from daughter Rebecca, asking whether we could perhaps arrive in Menlo Park that afternoon, rather than the next day. After a quick calculation, we answered yes, and set forth, staying on US 101 all the way, enjoying the redwood forests, passing right by Trees of Mystery, enjoying rather less the interesting passage through the heart of San Francisco. Tony Bennett's heart, which he left there. We arrived in time for dinner, and grand-daughter P spent the night with us in Le Sport. Our inland and Pacific northwest trip was over. And a great trip it was!

Dunes

Deco

And world-class coastal scenery

Hitchcock moment

"Eternal Father, strong to save/Whose arm hath bound the mighty wave..."

Fog rolling in

Any bit of this coast is stupendous; the best, we thought, was south from Coos Bay,
Gold Beach, Ordway, Battle Rock, and most of all, the incredible Harris Beach
State Campground; we'll be back