Tuesday, December 2, 2014

In the Depths of the Forest...

We took grand-daughter P on a camping trip over the long Thanksgiving weekend to the Little Basin State Park in the mountains north of Santa Cruz. (The week before we had driven from the north coast via Redding and Vallejo to Menlo Park, parking at Rebecca and Jeremy's). Little Basin was the only state campground nearby that had vacancies...it's a few miles south of Big Basin, California's oldest state park and home to some of the state's most majestic redwoods. Little Basin's redwoods were majestic enough, and the campsites are scattered in the woods around the central meadow/basin. The place was originally a retreat/conference center for H-P employees (remember H-P?). The basin is a hole in the mountains surrounding it, and the campsites are by and large quite dark, owing to the thick and immense trees. In late November, there's barely enough light to go around anyway. So there we were, with P, four days and three nights, in the depths of the forest (Siegfried, Act II), also without much phone signal nor wifi. Fortunately, P provides all the entertainment anyone (well, any grand-parent) could want.
Plenty of light up high, not so much on the
ground




















Typical site, adjacent to three different redwood fairy rings















Big stump and ring adjacent to our site















Thus















It's California, where we practice crumb-clean
camping




















But you can have campfires...and roasted hot dogs and
s'mores...(is this what they mean by paleo?)
















The main playground; Little Basin really has a lot of features
and facilities, especially for groups (we shared it with half a
dozen other families and with a couple score of Bay area Muslim
men on a religious retreat); its one shortcoming is sanitary
facilities, of which it has two small blocks (apparently H-P
employees were thought to be above mortal needs; or, since
they were probably nearly all guys, it was expected they'd go
behind the bushes); but I digress; above, Vicki heads for the
swings, and P begins her customary granular inventory...





















Grandma just does not understand about playgrounds and sand...















Somewhat later















And somewhat later still, tea party time in the camper; with
pie crust cookies from home (we did have pumpkin pie, our
one concession to tradition)

















In a small rig, everyone has to find his or her
own space....




















Snug in her bag



















Another day, hiking on the Tan Bark Ridge trail















Dusk--3:30 PM or so--brought deer out onto the basin; P got
quite adept at spotting them















Looking up from the center of one of the big fairy rings















Saturday, the (torrential) rains began--it's monsoon season
in California, where, after three years of record drought, the
rain is welcome; and on Sunday we drove back to Menlo Park 

Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Best Chainsaw Sculpture Ever, So Far

Orick, CA, population 630 (??), is the gateway to the lower Redwood National Park and especially its Golden Bluffs Beach Campground. Historically dependent on the timber industry, I surmise, it is nowadays not all that prosperous-looking. It's a one-pump town--and since it's 60 or so miles on to Eureka, one is greatly relieved to see that one (cash only) pump. (NB: It's not at the defunct gas station; it's at the general (and chain-saw sculpture) store on the south-side outskirts.) But, as we have seen elsewhere, sometimes decline in one area leads to good things in another. In Orick's case, it is chain-saw sculpture. There are more chain-saw sculptures stores in Orick than any other town I have ever seen; and they are not part of a chain, either. (Nyuck, nyuck...). And, without a doubt, Orick has more chain-saw works of art per capita than any place I have ever seen. From all this, I conclude that Orick must have or have had more chain-saw sculptors, per capita, than any other town I have ever seen. Sort of like Amsterdam in the 17th century, when the painters out-numbered the bakers. Sort of. In any case, the piece de resistance, is a fairy-tale castle of gigantic proportions. As an art historian, I cannot decide whether its inspiration was Neuschwannstein or Hohenschwanngau; or possibly Disney. I only hope this artist is working now on his or her Apollo and Daphne.
After our day at Golden Bluffs, we drove on to
Eureka and thence, across the mountains on the
very lonely but beautiful CA 299, the Trinity
River appearing to us a very large Lochsa River,
and onto Redding and a visit at the Camping
World there

Monday, November 17, 2014

Traveling the California Coast

We broke camp at Lat 42.3122460 Long 124.4144011 and continued our southerly course on US101, passing eventually out of Oregon and into California, heading for Redwood National Park and the remote seaside campground at Gold Bluffs Beach.
Maybe Oregon, maybe California...the coasts are equally
impressive
















Ditto















Now California















As soon as you cross the state line, the trees get much, much
larger--they haven't all been hacked down as in Oregon--and
other unmistakably Californian signs appear...the legendary
Trees of Mystery, which we did not visit (although we suspect
Rachel and Rebecca did on a road-trip some years ago)

















At length, and passing our first off-pavement trial, 6 miles of
it, we arrived and set up camp at Gold Bluffs Beach
Campground, Redwood National Park

















The Gold Bluffs, from which miners extracted gold from the
1850s to the 1920s, using largely the copper-plate method
















And there we are, perhaps 100 yards from the roaring surf















The resident elk are not timid















Thus















And then, just before dinner, we were treated to a spectacular
Pacific sunset

Traveling the Oregon Coast, 2

Tillicom Beach was so nice and scenic and quiet we decided, despite the chill, to stay a second day, mostly for relaxation but also for administrative purposes. Among other things, we installed some LED lights, installed a few more household items, checked some of the owner-installed under-carriage and suspension, tested the various interior monitors, repaired a few things, and reorganized a few things. Also we kept close watch on the Trimetric, minding our amps and volts and what-have-you and state of charge. Yes, we are probably becoming solar-holics. It's fun watching the electricity fall out of the sky and into your rig. In small doses. Next day we broke camp and drove on further south on US101, stopping here and there for items of interest, scenic and otherwise.
I was walking along the cliff above the beach and saw a small
flock of porpoises porpoising...before I could locate them in
the camera, they were gone...except in the lower right-hand
corner, that might be one in the wave

















Moving right along down the road, another beautiful expanse















Sea lion camp on the ledges below the cliff...arf! arf!















Typical Oregon coast scene















Beginning of dune country















On the river south of Florence















Most of the bridges in these parts apparently are Depression-
era and therefore Art Deco; here's the one south of Florence,
typical of half a dozen others
















Detail



















View from Battle Rock















We proceeded on, expecting to find a US Forest Service 
campground called Gold Beach or somesuch, but it never 
appeared, and so we finally settled for a large lay-by on the 
coast, thus, and spent the night...our first night genuinely 
boon-docking, as the Americans call it, or savage-camping
as the French call it; no wonder French is still the language
of taste, culture, etc. Lat 42.3122460, Long 124.4144011



















The scenery was good, I mean, bonne

Friday, November 14, 2014

Traveling The Oregon Coast

Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday nights found us at the Nesrokin Creek campground/resort, weathering the easterly effects of Astro...very high wind, rain, cold, generally ugly and unpleasant. At least it was free, due to our willingness to endure an hour's "presentation" on a campground time-share or somesuch scheme we had been led to by a young man posing as a Camping World employee, in Portland. We have infinite patience with these things, as long as the swag is good, and often find them amusing. The outcome this time was three nights at the aforementioned campground, power and other amenities included, plus a $25 gift card at Camping World, which is apparently part of the scheme. No, we didn't buy anything. We never do. Thursday, as the weather began to improve, we moved on to Lincoln City and the aforementioned Chinook Winds casino, where we "camped," again, free. Friday, the winds and rain subsided, the sun shown, and we endeavored to get back into traveling mode, driving down the Pacific Coast Highway, US101, stopping at a variety of turn-outs, scenic views, state parks, and, finally, the Tillicum Beach Campground, a beautiful US Forest Service campground, right on the ocean, practically deserted, about midway between Waldport and Yashica.
Looking back toward Lincoln City















One among many pretty coastal scenes















Lunch stop















Another pretty scene and a short hike















Cove with cliffs, sea caves, waterfall















And a rocky point















Interesting sea grasses on a ledge ; this is what a volcanic
tropical coast  would look like just before the tsunami hit...
















Ditto















Paddlers (click to enlarge)















Yaquina lighthouse...or possibly a cathedral in
France




















Vast, broad, cold beach south of Yaquina 















We landed at the Tillicum Beach NFS campground about 3:30
and decided to go no farther...another broad, hard beach, along
a coastal woods, little cliffs, and other features

















Looking out to sea















Southward, toward Yashica















Big waves beyond the beach















Campsite at Tillicum Beach, just up from the cliffs, practically
alone, and, apart from the surf, very quiet