(June 17, 2007) Happy Father’s Day !
Ok, we left off with that great cup of Chai tea at Winchester Bay, Oregon. We rode our bikes back to the campsite and decided to get in the truck and do a bit of exploring along the dunes. I remember seeing the dunes in Indiana when I was a kid, but I don’t recall them being as large as the ones in Oregon, nor covering such a vast area. They look like the ones you see in the movies with all the camels, etc., but these were dotted with people on ATVs. I’m no good at judging distance and height, but these dunes were taller than most the big hills in Iowa (I know, most of you think ‘big whip,’ but trust me, there ARE a few big hills in Iowa). We were half tempted to rent some ATVs ourselves and give it a try, but common sense prevailed. I figured I’d get way up on the top of one of the dunes and have engine trouble and have to walk all the way back down to get help, and then my allotted time would have expired. It did look like a lot of fun though.
We then headed up to the Umpqua River Lighthouse. It’s at the entrance to Winchester Bay, and sits on a hill 100 feet above sea level on the mouth of the Umpqua River. The first lighthouse in Oregon was erected on the opposite side of the river in 1857, but fell into the swollen river seven years later when the sand eroded during a storm. The one we visited was started in 1890 and officially lit in 1894. It is one of five still operating on the Oregon coast, and is the only one with a red light. The really cool part was looking out over the bay hoping to spot whales. Yep, we did just that. Mike spotted the first one, then we noticed that there were two more. We believe the two that stuck close together and seemed to be playing were a mother and calf. Another one stayed a close distance away. With the naked eye you could see the water blow when they came up for air, but the best view was through binoculars. Too cool!!!
Our last evening at Winchester Bay was spent walking along the bay and listening to the breakers. Blizzard couldn’t figure out that the “barking” we were hearing wasn’t from dogs, but from seals out in the bay. We could not have found a better campground. Everything was picturesque and peaceful. The weather was sunny and slightly cool, and the evening skies were filled with stars. We were most fortunate to have experienced such clear weather. One local told us that they had not seen the sun for quite some time until we arrived, and then the clouds rolled back in the morning we left. Timing is everything.
Our next destination would be Salem, Oregon to visit with Mike’s sister Pat and her family. The scenery along the way continued to be spectacularly beautiful. One area we passed looked like one of Tom Mangleson’s pictures…a beautiful valley with nothing but yellow flowers blanketing the valley and hills. Naturally, the camera was not at the ready. We did see more, and I tried to take some pictures from the moving vehicle, but that one valley will stay in my memory a long time. It was spectacular!
April 5th…arrive in Salem, OR
We spent almost 10 days with Pat and Terry, and had a great time visiting and siteseeing. We had a fantastic Easter dinner with a group of their friends and family, and ate way too much. We met our adorable sixteen-month-old grand neice, Macy, for the first time, and got to visit with her parents and her uncle for a while. It’s always wonderful to visit family and catch-up on each other’s lives.
Pat and Terry are great hosts. They took us to the Mission Mill Museum in Salem. We toured homes from the 1840’s, and the 1898 woolen mill itself. We literally had the mill to ourselves, and were able to tour without any guide or restrictions. It was fascinating to see the myriad processes the wool undergoes before the finished product. We were able to touch a lot of things that ordinarily were not allowed during a guided tour. The mill produced a lot of military blankets during the war, and still produces a few items from its tours. In fact, one could purchase a Pendleton blanket made right there, if one were so inclined…we weren’t.
One day, we all headed to the Evergreen Aviation Museum, or better known as the Spruce Goose Museum, in McMinnville, Oregon. What an amazing place. The museum was built specifically to house and preserve the HK-1 aircraft built by Howard Hughes. Like the redwoods, the Spruce Goose is something you have to see in person in order to appreciate the magnitude and beauty of the thing. It is ENORMOUS. It’s a testament to one man’s dream and determination. All the other aircraft housed there were equally fascinating, and the volunteer guides, of whom many were Air Force veterans, were well informed and helpful. I just couldn’t leave the museum without buying a bomber jacket for our grandson Atticus’ birthday.
Another day, Pat and I drove out to the country to a tulip farm. Again, we got lucky with the weather. It had rained the day before, and was threatening rain again, but we were able to get out and walk the beautiful fields without getting mired in mud. I can remember going to the tulip festival in Holland, Michigan when I was a kid, but I didn’t remember all the different colors and varieties of tulips. It was truly beautiful with the mountains as a backdrop. Great girl fun!
While we girls were touring the tulip farm, Mike and Terry were having good ole boy fun touring some wineries. They did a little “tasting”, and then some more “tasting,” then bought a few bottles and made their way back home.
Oh yeah, I almost forgot. We had the truck repaired while we were in Oregon. What, you may ask, had the truck repaired? That’s right, I forgot to mention that before we ever left our neighborhood, Mike had a little mishap. He pulled the camper up our street to the cul-de-sac to turn it around. Now, he had done this a few times before without incident. Well, this time some rude person had the audacity to park his vehicle on the cul-de-sac and Mike misjudged how sharp a turn he needed to make. There is a special attachment thingy to the hitch that can be manually disengaged so you can make an almost 90 degree turn without causing the camper to turn into the back window of the truck. Yep, Mike didn’t disengage it and the camper turned into the truck. Luckily, it didn’t break the back window, but it did scrunch the truck along side the window. That’s the repair we had done in Salem.
April 20th…bid adieu to family
We left Salem and headed north to Portland to catch the route east. We deliberately stopped at Camping World outside of Portland with the express purpose to purchase a “honey pot.” To you less informed individuals, a “honey pot” is a tote that can be used to empty our sink and sewage tanks into and use to haul to a dump station within a campground, when we do not have full hook-ups. I call it a “honey pot” in respect to “honey dippers” who go around and clean out septic tanks and outhouses. Lovely, don’t you think?
We knew we could use one when we got back to Georgia, because we would not have full hook-ups at the campgrounds. We wanted to purchase it in Oregon, because there is no sales tax, and that would save us a few bucks. So, we stopped and puchased one, took it out of the box and placed it in the back of the truck and headed down the road. We also planned to stop on I-84 to see the Multnomah Falls. These gorgeous Columbia River falls can be seen directly from the interstate, or you can stop and walk beneath the road and experience them up close, as we did. Again, the pulchritude was breathtaking (like that big word?!). We took Blizzard with us and walked under the roadway and up to the falls. Mike was reticent about our trying to walk the trail right up to and beneath the falls because it was pretty chilly and I do get cold quite easily. Regardless, it was worth the stop just to see them and take some pictures. We spent approximately 30 minutes there, and then got back in the truck and headed east.
About an hour down the road from the falls, we stopped to get fuel and stretch our legs. After Mike came back to the truck he said, “Where’s the honey pot?” I turned around and looked in the back of the truck and discovered it was no longer there…someone had stolen the thing! It must have been taken while we were observing the falls. So much for saving money on sales tax. We were now going to have to spend another $200. Too bad we hadn’t used it, maybe then no one would have stolen it. While trying to track down a place to purchase another one in Oregon, one gentleman told me that people steal them to sell for meth. You have to laugh at the luck of the Murrays.
Our next planned stop was Baker City, Oregon to visit the Oregon Trail Regional Museum. We found a good campground nestled between the mountains. Blizzard was in dog heaven because there was a field fenced off for a dog run. For the first time in her life, she was able to run free. She especially liked running after the magpies that would fly up out of the bushes. We settled down for the first night with plans to head to the museum the next morning.
The museum was just a short drive from where we were camped. We got there and toured the covered wagons outside and the great displays inside. It has always amazed me to think about all the brave people who traversed across this wonderful country of ours, and without all the conveniences, machinery, and knowledge that we enjoy. What kept them going? Why didn’t they look at the vast nothingness and say, “To heck with it, I’m not going any further?” Granted, free land was an incentive, but the hardships they endured hardly seemed reward enough. The museum did a great job of depicting and catalogueing the journey along the Oregon Trail. Those people suffered greatly, and a vast majority never made it.
We had learned that you could walk 1.2 miles down the hill to see the original wagon ruts, and I was totally up for it. It was once again a cool overcast day, but we figured we HAD to make the best of the opportunity. They had a paved walkway that zig-zagged all the way down the hill so you didn’t have such a steep descent. As you descended, you could look out over the arid high desert of Oregon. Not particularly pretty, but certainly fascinating when you put your mindset in that of the pioneers. Again, I marveled at their fortitude. Seeing the actual wagon ruts brought it all clearly to mind.
When we reached the bottom, we found another trail we could take to head back to the parking lot. It was more of a straight ascent, and unpaved, but it was MUCH faster. We got a good workout that day. Comically, and in the Murray luck, as we were driving back we stopped at a marker and parking area along the road. We stopped to read it only to find out that we could have walked directly to the wagon ruts from the road without any hill climbing.
We originally planned to leave Baker City the next day, but Mike discovered that not much farther down the road from the museum, was Hell’s Canyon, so we decided to stay another night and explore the canyon the next day.
Hell’s Canyon, with the Snake River flowing through, is deeper than the Grand Canyon, though not as wide. It was going to be a 60 mile drive to get to one of the best vantage points. Little did we know that it was going to be 6 ½ hours before we got back to the camper.
The drive was beautiful, because it took us up out of the high desert and into the mountains. There were beautiful views all around. The higher we got, the more snow we began to see. Snow, from a warm vehicle is quite pretty. Though it was supposed to be a 60 mile drive, that drive was extremely winding. We finally approached a turn-off we were to take, and chuckled at the sign that read, “Warning Road Not Maintained For Public Travel October 15 – June 15.” What the heck, we were on an adventure, we had 4-wheel drive. That wasn’t going to stop us.
As we got higher, we came across a tree that had fallen across the road, but someone had kindly cut and cleared. We kept seeing more and more snow, some of it across the roadway. No problem, we had 4 wheel drive remember? More trees across the road, more snow. Finally, about 5 miles from our destination we came across a big pile of snow across the road. Mike put the truck into 4 wheel drive and we cautiously started across. Hmm, pretty deep, stop! We had no cell service, no traffic other than us, a big drop off the road if we slid, and no way to get out if we got stuck. The risk outweighed the reward, so Mike backed down the road for about half a mile to where he could safely turn around, and we headed back. We never got to see the optimum view of the canyon. We did enjoy pretty scenery, but could not believe that we had spent 6 ½ hours driving. Boy were our butts sore!
To be continued….
