TO EXPLORE OR TO SETTLE?

 
In a long-ago class in animal behavior, I learned that some animals—probably mice—have alternative alleles in their genome, variations that affect a facet of their behavior. Individuals that inherit one of the variations (“settlers”) tend to settle down and exploit their home environment; individuals that inherit the other (“explorers”) tend to move on and explore new territories. There are obvious advantages for the species as a whole: The settlers can make maximum use of their current environment; the explorers can extend the group’s range if they have the right adaptations for it. It is a good example of Darwinian selection.

Humans, too, seem to fall into these two broad categories. In U.S. history, some immigrants from Europe settled down on the east coast while others moved on to the Midwest. Later, some of the more adventurous went farther west. Eventually, some reached California, with the Pacific Ocean being a natural boundary. Today immigrants from Asia and Central America are repeating the pattern in the opposite direction.

I may be more the explorer type. After growing up in the Midwest, then trying but rejecting life in New York, I moved to California. I love this state, and actually settled for 25 years in the San Francisco Bay area before moving to the Sierras, but now it may be time to move on. El Dorado County has only limited charms, and there is still so much to explore.

When I go back to school reunions in Michigan, I am struck by the difference between myself and some of my old classmates. Some of them have stayed on family farms that were prosperous in the past, where their ancestors were important community members. Today large agribusinesses are taking over, and the family farms are disappearing. The “settlers” now find themselves struggling for survival in a much-changed environment.

Other “settlers” have been more fortunate. Not being tied to the land, they have thrived in their professions, established families, and been good citizens. Their lives have been more stable than mine, and possibly more rewarding. I sometimes envy them and wonder if my drifting lifestyle has been a mistake, but I don’t think so. Each place where I have lived has brought new adventures and new opportunities. My RV life has been the latest episode in a life that has sometimes been difficult, but has never been boring.

So, whether I stay in El Dorado County or not, I am going to move on in one respect. For the past two years, I have blogged as the rovin’ crone. Blogging has been a new and pleasant experience, but I feel I have little more to say about RVing. Probably I will begin a new blog soon, on other subjects and under a new name. When I do, a final post here will give the details.

Many thanks to those who have commented here or in emails! You have helped make blogging a rewarding pastime.

 

 

QUIET PEOPLE AND THE RV LIFE

Susan Cain’s excellent book Quiet appears at first to be a shallow, pop-psych sort of book designed to comfort shy people. I read it mostly because it popped up on a site for e-books and it looked like a book people might be talking about. She presents some fascinating information, though. One item that especially stood out for me is that introversion does not equal shyness. Someone who is gregarious can also treasure time alone, and a shy person can be friendly and talkative in the right circumstances. In addition, Cain cites research showing that introverts are very sensitive to stimulation; too many people or too much noise can overwhelm them. Extroverts, on the other hand, seem to need more stimulation than average.

RV life may seem best suited to extroverts. In any campground, the RVs seem to huddle around one rather noisy area, even when many empty campsites are available. The campers sit out under their awnings, hang up welcoming lights, invite passersby to have some beer or wine and enjoy a campfire. Meeting other campers in this way can be very pleasant, though it is unlikely to lead to lasting friendships.

Luckily for some of us introverts, it is easy to get away from this sort of enforced conviviality. In most campgrounds, there are some quiet campsites that encourage contemplation rather than sociability. Being both shy and introverted, I prefer these sites. It is always possible to stroll around the campground and meet other people if I am in the mood.

For all of us, the Winnebago View and similar small motorhomes can provide just the right balance of friendliness and solitude. There is room inside for a few extroverts to chat and have a meal, even in weather that can make the ubiquitous picnic table unusable. The small dimensions of the View’s exterior, on the other hand, enable squeezing into small sites that cannot be used by those huge, annoying motorhomes that always seem to have generators running, and whose owners are far too stimulating for introverts to cope with.

As Cain points out, understanding ourselves and those around us in terms of introversion and extroversion makes life easier. Knowing that a noisy RV neighbor actually needs more stimulation than I do makes me a bit more tolerant, and knowing that frequent aloneness is essential for me gives me the freedom to retreat to the View without feeling any shame.

 

 

 

 

 

WEATHERING THE RV LIFE

One of the few times when we found RV life daunting was a few years ago in Alberta. We had visited the stunning Dinosaur Provincial Park, had become absorbed, had stayed too long, and had as usual trusted to fate and our parking fairy to provide a campground for the night. That was a busy time and place, so no campground spaces were to be found. However, a helpful park employee told us about a nearby creekside area having tent sites. We drove there and settled down for the evening, feeling lucky to have a place to stay.

The rain began soon. It came down gently at first, then harder and harder as darkness fell. Lightning sparked across the sky, and thunder crashed. Worst of all was the wind, almost threatening to capsize the RV. We tried to see the creek through the blackness, not sure whether it was overflowing. Some tenters had tied a large rubber raft to a tree. There was just enough light for us to see the raft repeatedly flung up into the air, then heaved down onto the ground.

I can’t remember if we slept at all that night. The next morning, the rain had died down, leaving a flooded landscape, and we ventured out to the toilets. Several younger campers were there, having spent the night under the only available roof. They had made a party of the occasion.

If we had gone to a motel for the night, we would have had a good night’s sleep.  Weather scarcely affects motel visitors, who can insulate themselves from the outside world, watch TV, use Wi-Fi, and so on. Just as they probably do at home. But, we are closer to the real world in an RV. The occasional night of terror seems like a reasonable price to pay for experiencing an ecosystem first-hand.

As RVers, we can also escape threatening weather quickly. If a hurricane or blizzard is forecast, we can drive to s more hospitable area. Climate change may make the RV life even more appealing in the coming years, when some campgrounds that are pleasantly warm now become like Death Valley.

LIVING NEAR THE KING FIRE

Ordinarily we have to travel to find much excitement, because our homes in El Dorado County are in a scenic area that is generally bucolic. Lately, though, the excitement came to us. While out for a Sunday morning walk about ten days ago I was listening to a local radio broadcast, and heard something about a fire north of us. The sky was clear, and I couldn’t smell smoke, so I ignored any danger for a while.

Soon we learned that a fire was burning over several hundred acres of forested land just north of Pollock Pines. Luckily, the homes there are scattered and surrounded by defensible (cleared) spaces, making it unlikely that they were in much danger. Surely, we thought, firefighters would soon bring the fires under control, and that would be an end of it.

We were wrong. Over the next week the fire went on burning, spreading first to 2800 acres, then to 10,000 acres. On one particularly hot and windy day it swelled to 80,000 acres, more than a hundred square miles. A giant pyrocumulus cloud spanned the sky, and smoke and ashes began raining down. El Dorado County had the dubious distinction of  having the largest California wildfire of 2014.

Now, the fire is still spreading. It has grown to more than 95,000 acres, and at its easternmost edge is only a few miles from beautiful Lake Tahoe. A dozen homes have been destroyed, thousands of acres of forest have burned. Thousands of people were evacuated from their homes temporarily; some have gone back to intact homes, others have found smoke or worse. Thankfully, no lives have been lost, though four firefighters (including a prison inmate who was working on the front lines) have been injured.

Highway 50 is not too wide at Pollock Pines, and a successful effort has been made to keep the fire from spreading across it. Only that highway and a reservoir lie between hundreds of homes, including ours, and the fire.

Highway 50 is no longer “the loneliest highway in America.” Thousands of firefighters from hundreds of miles away, even from Idaho and other states, have hurried along it night and day. Overhead, helicopters carry water, and planes drop fire retardant on the flames. All along the road, people have posted signs thanking those who have come to help.

Fifteen miles to the west of Pollock Pines, the county fairground in Placerville is being used for the many cattle and other animals that had to be moved out of the burning area. Fire engines, bulldozers, and huge mobile dormitories for the firefighters fill the parking lot of a nearby Raley’s supermarket.

As the fire has moved to the northeast, we have been less affected by it. The air is clear again here, though there is still some smoke in the Lake Tahoe area. Life seems normal again in many ways. This morning it is even raining, for the first time in months. The rain is a double-edged sword, though. Falling on the clayey soil here, it will make it harder for firefighters to keep their footing.

The fire will probably continue raging for weeks. Now more than 40% contained, it cannot last through the approaching rainy season, but the effects will be long-lasting for the scarred land, the burned forests, some homeowners, and the wildlife.

 

 

 

THE PERFECT CUP OF TEA

For about twenty years off and on, I have been part of an online discussion group, the Copyediting-L. Though the group’s obvious focus is on subjects of professional interest to copyeditors—grammar, current usage, job opportunities, and so on—often the conversation veers into more personal areas of interest, such as food and drink.

One of the best-known contributors to the group was David Ibbetson, whom we called the Ib. He was a very kind and well-informed Englishman who had moved to Montreal, where few of us ever had the chance to meet him. We were all saddened to hear of his death several years ago. Many of us benefited from his editorial advice and amusing birthday wishes, but what I most remember about the Ib are his simple but specific directions for making the perfect cup of tea:

Tea Made Properly

Loose tea leaves

Boiling water

The only "container" you need for your tea is a teapot. Fill it with nearly boiling water to heat it. When the kettle boils, dump out the teapot quickly and add 1 teaspoon of loose tea per cup plus 1 for the pot. Pour in the freshly boiling water, cover the teapot, and let it steep. How long? Tastes vary.
The tea leaves will sink to the bottom of the pot; if you worry about an occasional one ending in your cup, pour the tea into the cup through a tea strainer. Silver, preferably.

I agree you need good loose tea; there are lots of places online where you can buy it. Some people say the teapot has to be brown, but that has been contested.[1]

Ordinarily I avoid tea, preferring a strong blend of coffee and chicory such as French Market in the morning, or a glass of white wine in the evening. However, by following the Ib’s directions, and using Market Spice, one of the few kinds of tea I actually enjoy, I can prepare tea that lifts my spirits as much as a cup of coffee or glass of wine, without any side effects. Drinking a cup of Market Spice tea is one of those small things that cost little but contribute to happiness.

Life is full of stress, and it is easy to become discouraged about the state of the world and about outlooks for the future. Being a liberal environmentalist, I worry about the changing global climate, about the NRA, about overpopulation, about creationists, about diseases such as Ebola, about drought, about floods, and about right-wingers in general. But if I go for a walk in the woods, within about twenty minutes I can see my worries in perspective. I may be Chicken Little, but so far the sky is not falling.

While walking is one of my favorite ways to seize some happiness in the midst of chaos, there are others. Buying a small native plant, planting it in a shady window box, and watering it can give me much satisfaction, even in the current drought when water is limited. Finding a good whodunit at the library can make me giddy. Sketching in my nature journal makes me feel akin to Darwin. Looking at the night sky with binoculars reduces my problems to trivia. Sending emails to friends thousands of miles away recalls happy times shared with them. I return the smiles of small children.

I am not a Pollyanna, perennially glad in spite of what is happening around me. In fact, I tend to be cynical and pessimistic in general. But finding some joy in small things reminds me of important broader facets of life—the history and philosophy of science, healthy and delicious foods, literature, the conservation of natural resources, friendship and love. It can all start with the perfect cup of tea.

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[1] David Ibbetson. In More Food for Thought. New York: Copyediting-L, 2005.

TOO UNHAPPY TO BE KIND

The poet A.E.Housman  is usually associated with World War I and Shropshire, but he also wrote a moving poem about Londoners, in which he said:

“The mortal sickness of a mind

Too unhappy to be kind.
Undone with misery, all they can
Is to hate their fellow man;
And till they drop they needs must still
Look at you and wish you ill.” [1]

Anyone who has studied the faces on city streets has seen what Housman did—busy, tense people who ignore others or are rude to them. New Yorkers and other large-city dwellers, particularly, are inclined to treat others with brusqueness or actual unkindness, probably because they are dealing with stressful city life themselves. (However, in disasters or even minor difficulties, they can be surprisingly helpful. It seems to be everyday life that makes them miserable.)

Small towns and rural areas are not free from the phenomenon, either. When I shop in the local supermarket, I see shoppers who look tense and tired. They may treat clerks or other shoppers with discourtesy. It is rare to see someone who looks relaxed and happy.

The main insight I gained years ago in group therapy is that we have common troubles. We are not really alone when we feel lonely or mistreated; others are facing similar worries. Sometimes, as in group therapy, sharing our feelings with others can help greatly. Even if we keep our anxieties to ourselves, though, remembering our commonality is useful. Being understanding can also come easier with age. When we have passed through various sorrows ourselves, we can recognize the signs in others. Of course, the problems of aging can also make us more inclined to self-pity.

My friend Ruth (who has plenty of her own problems) uses the signature line, “Be kind. Everyone you meet is struggling with something.” What a simple, powerful idea! The barista who overfills the coffee cup may have a husband in Afghanistan; the jerk who cuts you off in traffic may have just lost his job; the woman who is dressed rather bizarrely may have just been released from a hospital. Knowing the whole story may explain much. For instance, just the other day, the RV near us in an otherwise silent campground had a noisy generator running for hours. We were on the verge of complaining when we learned that the owner must use an electronic medical device at night requiring a fully charged battery. What a narrow escape we had from being cruel!

 

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[1] Housman. A.E. 1896. In my own shire, if I was sad. From A Shropshire Lad. Avon Publishing, Inc.

THE BOOK THAT CHANGED MY LIFE

 “How would you like to spend the summer in Colorado?”

When Bill Miller, my senior editor at Rand McNally, asked me that rhetorical question in early 1966, I was delighted. I really wanted to get out of Chicago—my marriage had just ended—and I could use some time in the mountains, far from steamy Chicago in the summer. Then I realized he wasn’t offering me a vacation. I would be expected to edit a high school biology textbook, an ecology-oriented book called the BSCS Green Version.

Who, me? My year of grad work in zoology had been in genetics and embryology, at the opposite end of the biological spectrum from ecology. Though I had enjoyed my one class in ecology (mostly because I had read Walden for the first time), I felt a bit disdainful about the subject. Molecular biology was where all the excitement was then.

Nevertheless, I was happy to accept the assignment, partly because of what I knew about the textbook’s history. After the humiliating sight of Sputnik circling the planet in the late fifties, the National Science Foundation (NSF) had decided it might be prudent to invest more in science and math education. Almost at once, the NSF began training teachers and designing curriculum projects. Unlike most curricula of previous years, these would be written by teams of professional scientists and talented high school teachers. Though physics and math education were the obvious post-Sputnik priorities, all the sciences benefited from the sudden infusion of money.

One of the many NSF-sponsored projects was the Biological Sciences Curriculum Study (BSCS). Biologists and teachers gathered for writing conferences in Boulder, Colorado, to design an innovative biology curriculum. Labs and field work, rather than a textbook, would be central. Because of some sharp differences in outlook, the group finally created three versions of the same curriculum. Though the broad themes, such as the importance of the cell, and the centrality of evolution, were alike, one of the curricula emphasized whole organisms (the Yellow Version); another, molecular genetics (the Blue Version); and the third, ecology (the Green Version). School districts and teachers could choose the version that seemed best for their students.

Publishers bid eagerly for the NSF programs, and Rand McNally won the contract for the Green Version. Bill Miller (an exceptional editor) edited the 1963 edition, which had been very successful and profitable. Now it was time for a second edition.

The summer in Colorado was delightful, partly because of the beautiful surroundings, but more so because of the writing team. Haven Kolb, a high school biology teacher from Maryland, was the supervisor. The most unflappable person I have ever known, he coordinated (and largely rewrote) contributions from Richard Beidleman, an ecologist at Colorado College; Victor Larsen, a botanist at Adelphi University; and from several other scientists and teachers. In nearly 50 years of writing and editing that followed, I never worked with a better group of writers. They differed widely in interests and abilities, yet somehow Haven wove their rough manuscripts—this was years before the computer age—into a beautifully written book that provided an excellent introduction to biology. My attitude toward ecology changed by 180° as I absorbed the importance of the subject not only to other areas of biology, but to the whole planet.

Haven was a strong supervisor and gifted writer; from a publisher’s point of view, his only failing was his stubborn refusal to be hurried. A perfectionist, he polished and rewrote everything many times before and after I edited it, oblivious of publishing deadlines. Long after the summer ended and he returned to Maryland, Haven continued working on the rough drafts. Finally, Bill sent me to Maryland with orders to sit on Haven’s doorstep until I could bring a publishable book back to Chicago.

That was a fine idea, in theory. As it turned out, Haven and his wife, Mary, simply welcomed me into their family, and I stayed in their home for long periods over the next year, doing a lot of editorial work but also enjoying life with the Kolbs and their teenage daughters. Back in Chicago I might have been going out for two-martini lunches (which were still popular then); instead, I was spending lunch and coffee breaks walking in the woods and learning about the Maryland environment first-hand.

Because I worked on the book in the sixties, of course my newfound interest in ecology merged with the country’s new consciousness of environmental problems. For me, even Vietnam and civil rights were eclipsed by pollution and diminishing resources. I began living a more environmental lifestyle, reading more Rachel Carson and less Helen Gurley Brown. If I had been a few years younger or more adventurous, I might have joined a commune or begun living much as I do today. Even so, my life has never been as acquisitive and wasteful as it would have been without the Green Version.

The Green Version was the first major textbook I edited, and to me it still stands out as the ideal high school biology book—very readable, illustrated with hundreds of fine photos and artwork, and based on the latest concepts of that time. Nearly 20 years later, when I did a study of environmental education for my dissertation at Stanford, I was happy to see that the Green Version still seemed to be the best book of its kind.

At Stanford I was mentored by Professor Emeritus Paul DeHart Hurd, who was often called the architect of the BSCS because of his enormous contributions to the original plans. We had long talks about biology education, the BSCS programs, and related issues. When I received my PhD, Paul was responsible for my joining the writing team that prepared the sixth edition of the Green Version. It was a great honor to work on the book in that capacity, and over the next few years I wrote other materials for the BSCS as well. Everything I have written or edited since then has had some connection to ecology, and can be traced back to my editing the Green Version.

 

 

EXERCISING AND RV TRAVEL

Exercising at home is relatively easy, because it becomes part of a routine life. You can easily plan to walk to work, join a health club, swim at the local pool, and do calisthenics in your large bedroom. You can also plan healthy meals. If you make a reasonable effort, you can stay fit.

Unfortunately, it is more difficult to establish routines when traveling in an RV. There’s the rub—one of the appealing aspects of RV travel is the lack of routine, the excitement of waking up every day or so in a new area, with no strict schedule. With a national park or new city to explore, who wants to spend time in a gym, even if one is available?

If RV travel is limited to a few days at a time, and you are generally healthy, it probably is OK to stop regular exercise. If traveling extends for weeks or months, though, it can have a real impact on both appearance and health. Though I find it hard to exercise enough while on the road, especially as I inevitably continue to age, I make a real effort to work on fitness in several ways:

• Getting up early seems to help in several ways. RV travel often takes place in summer, when the days may be too hot for exercising. Early in the morning, usually I can exercise in comfort. (As I am writing this, the temperature is rising toward 100° in this area. I would be foolish to “go out in the noonday sun.”) Also, most of us can exercise most efficiently if we pay attention to our internal clocks. I like a pleasant walk in the late afternoon, but anything more strenuous is better done early in the day.



• Walking is my favorite form of exercise, whether at home or away. It is also the easiest form of exercise to fit into other activities. If we are in an area where walking is easy, then I can walk for an hour along with sightseeing. On days when we are traveling, we stop often to give ourselves time to walk for 15 or 20 minutes at a time.  Unlike some RVers who will drive for nine or ten hours to reach some destination, we simply stop earlier. That leaves more time for walking and relaxing. (Jogging and running are great for younger people, of course. Not for me.)



• Hiking is wonderful exercise, and is usually strenuous enough to provide plenty of exercise.  But, good hiking trails are not always available, and at my age hiking is not always a sensible option. We do spend some of our travel time in national or state parks where we can hike. I find it hard to hike on rocky or watery trails, and carry a hiking stick even when the beginning of a trail looks easy. If the trail becomes too difficult, I turn back rather than risk injury.



• Tai chi chih  is a gentle form of tai chi that I have practiced for the past several years. In addition to being an aid to meditation, it is good anaerobic exercise, especially for anyone with problems of equilibrium. Though the slow, graceful movements look easy, it does take work, and strengthens the leg muscles, especially. (A bonus is that it helps control urinary incontinence.) No special clothing or equipment is needed, a boon to RV travelers. Usually I practice tai chi chih outdoors (it takes some space for some movements, and meditation is easier when I am gazing at a beautiful view), but in a pinch I do at least some of it inside the RV.



• Some resorts have small gyms with stationary bicycles, treadmills, and so forth for campers’ use. This may seem like a good solution to the exercise problem, and perhaps it is for people who prefer staying in expensive resorts. We are more likely to stay in primitive or basic campgrounds having no gyms, but if we do find ourselves in a resort where we are already paying for exercise equipment, I try to use it.



• Swimming is perfect for those who are competent swimmers and have access to a pool. In spite of taking swimming lessons at various times, I have never learned to swim well enough to do more than a couple of laps without tiring, and I end up bouncing along in the kiddie lane, getting very little exercise. Another problem, even for good swimmers, is finding a pool while traveling. The pools at campgrounds are usually crowded with small children who make it difficult to swim any distance, and many campgrounds have no pools at all.



• Stretches are helpful for easing any muscle aches and beginning the day. I do a few every morning. At one time physical therapists advised stretching before beginning any more strenuous exercise, but some recent research indicates it isn’t necessary. I continue stretching anyway, as my muscles seem happier when I do.

By doing some exercise every day, it is possible to avoid becoming one of those stereotypical RVers. (You know the ones I mean—they drive long hours, then stop at a campground in time to set up a barbecue and eat a lot of fattening food washed down with beer. They walk no farther than the campground toilets.) The RV life can be healthy with a little effort. Oh, one final comment about exercise: The most helpful exercise for most of us is firmly pushing ourselves away from the table!

RESEARCH IN THE AGE OF GOOGLE

 

Yesterday I wanted to know something about one of the characters in War and Peace. Knowing that my 1946 Encyclopaedia Britannica had excellent articles written by literary experts, I went to the closet in the office, pulled out the boxes containing the encyclopedias I had never unpacked since moving to my current home, and found the “W” volume. My, it was heavy! After flipping through many pages, I discovered that there is no War and Peace entry. No doubt I could have found the index volume and found what I was searching—under Tolstoy, perhaps—but this was starting to become work. Why go through all this when I could simply Google for it?

 

It wasn’t quite that easy, of course. Googling first brought up ads for movies and books with similar titles. However, I found the information quite soon, and with less physical work than needed with the Britannica.

 

Research has changed greatly in the 60 years since I began looking up information for anything more than a quick class project. Back in the late fifties I began assembling a stack of index cards for each topic I needed to write about.  I remember spending days or weeks reading the literature, deciding which materials to save, and organizing my cards by authors’ names. This was very time-consuming, but because I had learned which journals were trustworthy, I ended up with a good collection of references.

 

Today I can Google for information and immediately download hundreds of articles. Oh, and much advertising that Google deems to be relevant. If I want to search for Neanderthals, for instance, Googling brings up millions of links. There are not only the obvious Wikipedia article, but also links to the Dead Neanderthals (a rock group?), to various movies and books with Neanderthals in the titles, and to miscellaneous ads whose connection to the Neanderthals I fail to understand. I find all this irritating enough, but far worse is the misinformation provided. One link even leads to a creationist site. Also, some research results shown on Google are from non-peer-reviewed articles.

 

I do Google, of course. Having instant access to information is very helpful, and I have learned how to separate the wheat from at least some of the chaff. For young learners who do not yet know what sources to trust, the task is much harder.

 

I also find it rather boring just to Google. Push a few buttons, download some promising articles, and the job is nearly done. Real research should have some element of exploration. During many years as a grad student, I learned where to work in university libraries. There were always little study carrels tucked away among the stacks. I would find a carrel near a window in the biology or education library, put some notebooks on the desk to claim it, and explore the journals, armed with my index cards. Each card led me to an article; each article had footnotes showing other possibilities. Serendipity sometimes helped. Once at the University of Illinois I was searching for information about the mysterious fossils called conodonts, and suddenly came across a photo of what one author thought was the conodont animal. I felt like Lewis and Clark looking out at the Pacific for the first time.

 

Working in a real library has other advantages. Stanford and UC–Berkeley both have enormous education libraries, where I did research on textbooks for my PhD dissertation. While there, I took advantage of their collections of current magazines, such as the American Biology Teacher, The Science Teacher, and the American Educational Research Journal. As a grad student, I couldn’t afford to subscribe to them, but reading them every month was important.

 

Even libraries, to say nothing of Google, fall short when it comes to some research. There is nothing like primary sources! David Tyack, the noted historian of education, once literally stumbled over a box of old records kept by a school board, and was able to use the contents in his own research. My own collection of antique textbooks began with books inherited from my parents and uncles, teachers all. Most writers find themselves visiting places of interest, interviewing sources, and otherwise looking in the horse’s mouth.

 

So, I will use Google often. But I hope never to use it uncritically or as my sole source of information.

OREGON BY RV

The view from Cape Perpetua

During the past few years I have had the privilege of seeing many national parks and other beautiful areas of the United States and Canada by motorhome. From the Bay of Fundy through Glacier National Park and on to the west coast, I loved them all. But, the coast of Oregon may have the most stunning sights anywhere. Though my blog usually is rather introspective, this post will be a more objective day-by-day account of our recent road trip that included the central Oregon coast, simply because it may be useful to other travelers. 

We travel on the maxi/min principle, seeing the maximum amount at the minimum cost. Though we occasionally spend a fair amount on a worthwhile experience, we never spend money on cable TV, and usually get Wi-Fi access at public libraries or other free sources. Every few nights we look for campground showers or electrical hookups, but with our self-contained Winnebago View, we can and do use primitive sites often. If you want information about super-expensive RV resorts and restaurants, you need to go elsewhere. (Note: All prices given here are what we actually paid. Having Golden Age passports and being members of AARP, we usually pay 50% of what younger people pay.)

June 16: Beginning near home in northern California, we drive north on I-5 as far as Willows, first stopping at Bremen’s Apricot Orchard north of Woodland for some delicious and inexpensive apricots. Stay in a Willows Walmart parking lot, knowing future nights will be more pricey. (In general we stay in Forest Service or other inexpensive parks most of the time, where fees with our Golden Age status are usually about $5 to $12 per day. Sometimes Walmarts allow overnight parking, sometimes they do not. It seems to depend more on local ordinances than on Walmart itself.)

June 17: We arrive at Ashland, Oregon. We made no reservations for the Oregon Shakespeare Festival, because we didn’t know when we would be here. Taking a chance, we call today and learn that because of a cancellation, we can get two tickets for The Tempest tomorrow. I am very excited about this—I haven’t come to the festival for nearly 20 years, and want Thane to experience it. Ashland has many expensive bed-and-breakfasts and hotels; instead, we stay at the Glenyan RV campground a few miles out of town for $30. It is rather crowded but nice otherwise.

June 18: The tickets are $50 each for the Class C (least expensive) seats. The OSF isn’t cheap, and gives no senior discounts, but we want to splurge.  Back to Walmart, in Roseburg, via I-5.

June 19: Still on I-5, we drive to Portland and spend a couple of hours at the International Rose Garden. At this time of year it is a spectacular display of many rose varieties. Driving west on Highway 26 toward the coast, we stop at the “Stubs” Stewart State Park near Verona for the night. This is a convenient stop for anyone driving between Portland and the coast. The campground is nothing special, and costs $31 including hookups. (A note about the showers in Oregon state parks: They are clean and well maintained, but usually there is not a truly private dressing area with each shower. This doesn’t bother Thane, but it does me, so in many cases I use the RV shower instead.)

June 20: Arrive in Cannon Beach, where we plan to see the annual Sand Castle Contest tomorrow. Stay at the very nice Circle Creek private campground a few miles north of town on Highway 101. We are in a no-hookups site that costs only $10 including free showers.

June 21: The sand castles are impressive. I have an excellent Crab Louis ($21) for lunch at The Wayfarer restaurant, and have a good view of the beach from my table. (Thane is a vegetarian, and usually eats in the RV.) We return to Circle Creek rather than search for a new campground late in the day.

June 22: We start south on scenic Highway 101 after doing some shopping in Cannon Beach. At night we stay at the Jetty Fishery campground at the mouth of Nehalem Bay. This very basic campground caters to fishers, and sells crab for picnickers. The view of the bay and ocean from here is excellent, somewhat justifying the $38.50 price for a site with hookups.

June 23: Stopping at the Tillamook Cheese Factory, we are very disappointed. (See my previous blog post for the details.) This is a waste of time!  On the other hand, Thane goes to the TillamookAir Museum ($8) and enjoys it greatly. At night we stay for $20 at the Tillamook River RV Park, which is on the road going west toward Cape Meares.

June 24: After catching up on laundry and other chores, we arrive at the Cape Meares State Park and (very short) lighthouse. We take an enjoyable walk through a Sitka spruce forest and tour the lighthouse, then go on to Cape Lookout State Park for the night ($21 -for a no-hookups site).

June 25: The day is rainy, and we want to stay in the general area because of a kite festival coming up in Lincoln City, so we stay a second night at Cape Lookout after walking the nature trail, reading, and sketching. This campground is simple, clean, and near the ocean.

June 26: Traveling toward Lincoln City on 101, we see no appealing campgrounds, but a local finally tells us about a small Forest Service campground to the east, on Mt. Hebo. Though the road up the mountain is a steep climb that looks unpromising, this turns out well. Our $6 primitive (not even water is provided) campsite looks out on a reservoir where fish are literally jumping out of the water. The site is so unlevel that we have to use every Leveler block, some wooden boards, and Thane’s old slippers to get a bubble in the level!  

June 27: Still killing time before the kite festival, we stay on Mt. Hebo again. It rains all day, and to keep from tracking mud into the RV, we stay inside reading and playing Scrabble for the entire time. We will be ready to leave tomorrow.

June 28: We leave early to arrive in Lincoln City for the kite festival.  The weather clears up just enough, and the kites are simply amazing. This is airborne artistry. Not knowing where to stay for a decent price, we ask another RVer, and he directs us to the ChinookWinds casino at the north end of town. Like many Native American casinos on tribal lands, this one encourages free overnight RV parking in the hope of luring people to the casino. Not only that, but people treat the parking lot like a campground—we even see campfires and tents! I also get an excellent, huge hamburger in the casino deli for $6, but we don’t do any gambling. This probably saves us some money.

June 29: We stay at Depoe Bay’s elaborate Sea and Sand RV Park  for $57, much more than what we are usually willing to pay. However, unlike most campgrounds, it is right on the beach, and we are determined to see the ocean from our RV for one night. First, we enjoy a day of relaxing in the sun.

June 30: On south to touristy Newport, where we wander around town and see the Yaquina Bay lighthouse, which was in operation for only three years in the late 1800s. I enjoy seeing the Itty Bitty Art Gallery, but manage to resist spending any money. That night we stay at Beverly Beach State Park ($21, no hookups). This park is filled with young families, many in tents. Though I usually can walk right in and take a shower at a campground, here I must wait a while for some young women washing their hair. Also, the shower floors are very sandy because some campers failed to rinse their feet before showering. This all is a letdown after the previous night. However, the park is at a convenient location for us at this stage of the trip, and there is nothing actually wrong with it.

July 1: This is the first of a series of wonderful Forest Service campgrounds along Highway 101. We stay at Tillicum Beach campground ($12 for no hookups, but water is available). A campsite overlooking the ocean opens up, so we grab it. We are lucky in meeting two other couples driving Winnebago Views similar to ours, and have a mini-rally.

July 2: Again, we find a Forest Service campground for $12, Rock Creek . Our site is on the beautiful, peaceful creek. The vault toilet is the most immaculate one I have ever seen!

July 3: The sightseeing today along Highway 101 is wonderful. After viewing a spectacular stretch of coast from high Cape Perpetua, we go on to tour the Heceta Lighthouse, “the most photographed lighthouse in the world.” It has been beautifully preserved, and the Fresnel lens is still functioning. Afterward we stop at the Sea Lion Caves. I fear that it is a tourist trap, but instead it is a fascinating Steller sea lion rookery where we see bulls and their harems hauled out on the rocks. Thane tours the caves as well ($13), and I am allowed to walk to a viewing area for $5, as I don’t care for caves. Some visitors have sighted whales today, but there are none around when I am. After leaving, we drive on to find still another Forest Service campground! This one is Alder Dunes, at the north edge of Florence. For some reason this one is only $11; it is in a pleasant, wooded area.

July 4: Independence Day is not a good time to look for a campground without having a reservation. However, we have a personal parking fairy named Lola who always comes through for us with a place to stay. (Why named Lola? Because “Whatever Lola wants, Lola gets,” in the words of the song.) This night we go to another casino, Three Rivers on the east side of Florence, that allows free overnight parking. I have a satisfying, inexpensive fish dinner in the casino restaurant. As if that isn’t enough, we are able to watch the local fireworks show in comfort from our RV! We enjoy seeing it and taking a video of the display.

July 5: Driving south on 101 again, we visit several state and private campgrounds that are either full because of the holiday, or unappealing. One of these, Honeyman State Park, has more than 400 campsites! We prefer something a bit more, um, intimate. Eventually we find the very nice Umpqua Lighthouse StatePark campground, where Lola has saved us the one open site ($28 with full hookups). This campground even has yurts and cabins that are more expensive, and look like enjoyable possibilities for a return trip some day.

Before settling in we walk to the lighthouse, where Thane takes the $5 tour. I skip the tour, thinking it would offer no more than the one at Heceta Head. When Thane returns, he says this was actually better, because he was able to get inside the Fresnel lens of the light and take this photo.

If I had this to do over, I’d take this tour instead. On the other hand, the view from Heceta Head is better. In Oregon, it’s hard to go wrong.

July 6: We have been away from home for nearly three weeks, so we reluctantly leave this wonderful campground and head toward I-5 on Highways 38 and 138. I assume that driving to the east will be dull, but am happily surprised. In Old Reedsport we see a business featuring chain-sawed carvings, with the woman wielding the chain saw at work. Farther along is the O.H. Hinsdale InterpretiveCenter,  where we stand at a viewing platform and watch seven or eight Roosevelt elk in the nearby meadow. Highway 138 is a scenic byway along the Umpqua River, which is one of the most majestic waterways I have ever seen. Steep, forested hills rise on each side of it, and in places the river splashes over wide expanses of rock.  In order to use Wi-Fi, we stop in Elkton. There the library turns out to be part of a thriving community center that includes a butterfly garden, produce market, and other delights.

At Sutherlin we rejoin busy I-5. It takes us quickly to Roseburg, where we again stop at Walmart to print photos and buy ice cream. As the photos will not be ready until morning, we will stay in the parking lot until then. :-)

July 7: The temperature today will be more than 100 degrees in this area, so we plan few stops. The drive south on I-5 is mercifully uneventful. After entering California, we want to revisit Castle Crags, a scenic point where we stayed a few years ago. Because the private campground where we stayed then seems more expensive and more rundown than it did, we go on to the nearby Castle Crags State Park. Only a few spots are suitable for motorhomes, and the only vista points are either at the entrance or at the end of a long, steep trail; however, we are tired and a bit desperate to stop for the night, so we do ($23 for no hookups). We discover soon that freight trains run along the campground, and will wake us during the night.

Castle Crags

July 8: I have a good hot campground  shower, but when Thane is taking his, I try to do the dishes at the dishwashing station, and that diverts hot water from the showers. Thane is not happy with the result! We spend the day driving through the heat but feel comfortable in our a/c rig. We spend the night at a Walmart—hopefully, for the last time—in Roseville. We need to be near the Dodge dealer who will do an oil change in the morning, and Roseville is very urban. No campgrounds here.

July 9: After spending a couple of hours at the very busy (but good) Dodge dealer’s, we head for home. Stopping to pick up some food in Sacramento, we park carefully and legally. A young man hauling a huge tree-trimming trailer tries to squeeze in next to us and smashes into our rear end. I am still inside our rig and am knocked over but unhurt. Screaming like a banshee, I run out to demand what the *%#%$ he thought he was doing. We wait around for his boss to appear with insurance information. The boss is very cooperative, and almost as annoyed with his employee as I am. On the way home we stop at a local RV repair shop to get an estimate for the repair, which turns out to be for minimal damage. Then, home at last! This final day was more exciting than we expected.