Beverly Beach

The Newport grocery store clerk tells me Beverly Beach is a really nice campground. However, before making a final decision on where to stay, I take a quick look at KOA – they have Internet access and other nice conveniences. Although it’s nice the place feels more like a green parking lot. Trees surround the perimeter of the place but don’t divide the camping areas. So you park on gravel or dirt and camp on the grass. I want to sleep in a place that feels like it is removed from civilization.

So the place to sleep is Beverly Beach Campgrounds. As the name of the place indicates it is on the beach. However, I quickly realize this campground is much more developed than Patrick’s Point. The entire grounds are covered in plants and trees but less greenery, as if the forest was thinned. So although there’s distance between camp spots, it’s much less private. And the place is crowded. It feels more like a big picnic but still really nice.

There are no hiking trails so I walk along the beach sinking my feet in the sand and daring to stick them in the icy ocean water. Lots of people are walking their dogs who look like they’re in heaven running around in and out of the water and playing with one another.

On to the Oregon Coast

Northern California and the Pacific Northwest are still experiencing record temperatures. It’s definitely not comfortable, probably in the high 90s.

As soon as I hit the first town in Oregon the gas prices go down. It seems so bizarre that you can’t pump it yourself.

The towns along the coast all appear to be small, some more touristy than others. There’s plenty of beaches along the way. Here’s a couple of pictures.

 

More of Patrick’s Point

Here’s another picture from the trail.

The white ocean and misty air makes it feel, almost like being on another planet.

This area reminds me of the TV show Lost. If you’ve ever seen the first season, this wall brought to mind the sheltered inland area where the characters discovered water in episode 6, House of the Rising Sun.

Patrick’s Point the Next Morning

There is a sign at the entrance to the grounds that a bear had been spotted a week earlier. When I woke up the next morning I’m relieved that no bears came looking for food during the night. Imagine waking up to a bear shaking the truck and trying pry his way in because he smells food.

It’s a beautiful morning and as usual I’m awake before pretty much anyone else around. On my run to the bathroom I see a man walking his precious dog. For breakfast I grab a couple of hard boiled eggs and a slice of bread. It’s a little chilly and I would love to have a hot cup of coffee or tea. No luck with the hot stuff, so water will work as a good substitute and venturing on the park’s trails will quickly warm me up.

I grab my camera and head out on the trail. Here’s some of the sights.

 
This part of the trail is amazing, simply because people built stairs and walls on a small section of cliff that hangs out over the ocean.

This is a view from the bottom of the cliff. The waves look amazingly fierce as they crash into the huge, craggy boulders. The air is cool and I imagine the ocean is cold. It would most definitely be a spot that would require hospitalization if one fell in the ocean.

 

 

Camping is Grrrreat!

It’s time to find a place to park myself till tomorrow. I had considered making reservations before the trip but didn’t want to get stuck with a planned itinerary that prevented me from visiting someplace on the spur of the moment.

I had also decided to follow a suggestion a girl I used to work with had told me about. She had heard Click and Clack, from the NPR radio show, Car Talk, tell someone about sleeping in the back of their pick-up truck covered with a camper shell. On a side note, Click and Clack are great to listen to, equally for lots of laughs and for car advice.

Never having camped before, this sounded like an interesting way to travel. Initially I had planned on staying at KOA campgrounds but discovered, while reading the map in 101 Things to Do in Humboldt County that some state parks provide spots for tent camping. I know, most of you probably already know this.

Patrick’s Point State Park, #85 on the list is in the middle of Redwood Country, situated on the rocky cliffs of the pacific ocean. Not knowing anything about the rules of camping I called the park and asked if people can sleep in their trucks. The answer was yes and when I got there I discovered their were others like me. While some people had RVs and others had tents, a few, like me, slept in their trucks and vans. Many people bring their dogs along too – they’re all sooo cute (the dogs that is).

The park is a heavenly oasis that I will never forget. After record hot temperatures all day long the cool of the shade created by a forest of majestic trees feels so wonderful. 101 Things to Do identifies them as hemlock, pine, fir, spruce, and red alder trees. Bunches of little critters run around the park, hiding in the wild ferns, and climbing up trees. I can hear ocean waves crashing on the boulders and cliffs from my campsite. The variety of birds singing and sqwaking their own unique sounds is soothing. Other than the few light sounds from fellow campers, being here is like stepping into a parallel universe where traffic, overcrowding, pollution of all kinds (noise, light, sound, garbage), and overbuilding ceases to exist.

Having gotten settled just before nightfall, I take the little bit of time left to explore one of the walking/hiking trails that leads down to the ocean.  It’s sooo absolutely amazing! This view is a few steps from my campsite.

 

 

Commercial Fishermen in Arcata

Arcata Bay is a nice place to stop and rest. The coffee shop in the bay looks like a popular place to meet friends and enjoy a meal. Judging from the boats parked in the bay, it seems to be a port primarily for commercial fishing. Near the boat docks is a memorial to people who lost their lives at sea. It lists the name of the person, the year they were lost, and indicates whether or not their body was recovered. In memory of one or more person, families set flowers and wreaths at it’s base. Reading names from the mid 1900s made me feel like I stepped back in time. I hadn’t expected to see that men lose their lives at sea even in 2007. It seems that living and working in large urban towns and cities distances us from experiencing the truth of nature’s cycles and dangers.

Northern California Roadways

395 from Reno to Susanville and 44 from Susanville to Redding are really nice scenic drives through national forests. The roads meander up and down and this way and that way through beautiful forested and open areas. Along the way I spotted picturesque views of lakes and marshy areas.

I listened to radio DJ’s talk about events going on around Redding and the unusual weather. With that cheery radio voice the pop radio DJ announced the record temperatures. “And today, Redding will be experiencing a record high of 102 degrees. Stay cool out there!”

So naturally I only got out of the car to get gas.

The next leg of my trip, along 299, from Redding to Arcata took me to a great little town called Weaverville. Although it was hot I really needed a walking break from sitting in the car for so many miles. I stopped at a park and stuck my feet in the nice cool stream sheltered by large deciduous trees. I didn’t care what kind of trees they were since the only thing important at that moment was the cool air.

Both Humboldt and Mendocino counties seem to be very eco-friendly. The tiny town of Weaverville has what seems to be a very popular health food store. I picked up a copy of the ECONEWS there and discovered the Northcoast Environmental Center (NEC).

After about an hour of walking and cooling off I drove on to Arcata.

Gasoline Prices

Within 50 miles out of Las Vegas the gas prices had gone up on average of 25 cents per gallon. The same is true for California regardless of whether the town is small, where prices usually seem to be higher, or falls into the category of a city, such as Sacramento. Once in Oregon and Washington the prices immediately went down on the same average as they went up, 25 cents per gallon.

A Most Shocking Discovery
It is unlawful to pump your own gas in the states of Oregon and New Jersey. So when you stop to get gas don’t get out of the car. Just stay in your car and wait for someone to ask you what kind of gas you want and how much.

Money Saving Tip
Some gas stations, mainly the ones in rural areas, charge about 10 cents less per gallon if you pay cash.

Two Tools for Finding Gas Prices Online

• Kim Komando discusses a widget download in her “Cool, Useful, Fun Freebie” article, Keep Track of Rising Gas Prices.
• GasBuddy.com is another useful tool that doesn’t require any downloads. Just select your state from the map, type in your zip code, and, presto magic; gas stations with names, street addresses, and prices pop up.

And of course, there’s many more online resources you can find with a simple search in your favorite search engine.

Shoes Grow on Trees

I can’t wait to get out of Reno. It’s my second day of driving and it would sure be nice to see some green and experience some cooler weather.

 

Money Grows On Trees

Child: Mom, can I have a new bicycle?
Mother: Money doesn’t grow on trees.

Many of us are familiar with that saying. But has anyone heard that shoes really do grow on trees?

On my way towards Susanville, just outside of Reno, I see the most fun sight – a tree full of shoes hanging from all the branches. It’s not just a couple of shoes, buts lots and lots of shoes.

I looked it up on the Web and found there’s more than one tree that grows shoes.

Bookofjoe writes:

RoadsideAmerican.com offers “A round-up on Shoe Trees, where hundreds of discarded sneakers and other footwear are tossed. The shoe tree blooms with polymer beauty.”

They note, “More have been sighted in Nordman, Idaho; Milltown, Indiana; Hodgdon, Maine; Atlanta and Owosso, Michigan; Lyndonville, New York; and elsewhere.”

 

You can see a guy named Frank standing next to the Shoe Tree in Reno, view and read more about Shoe Trees on RoadSideAmerica.com and read Charlie LeDuff’s New York Times article on BookofJoe’s blog.

A Scary Night in Reno

The first night of the my trip was unnerving. Instead of staying in a KOA campground in Reno I had made reservations for a Hotel 6 room. Situated at a freeway exit, it was easy to find. They gave me a second floor, corner room in the back of the complex.

There was plenty of parking so I parked in an open area against the bushes. Having an old vacuum cleaner, cleaning supplies, a rolled up rug, and some other miscellaneous items in the bed of the truck, I didn’t want to park in a place that would suggest, “please take whatever you want from the truck bed.” If any of the stuff was taken it would have been more of a dissapointment in human nature as opposed to a loss.

Going up to my room I notice some guys watching me from two hotel rooms with the doors wide open. It crosses my mind that they’re just taking in the fresh air of this nice cool night. As I’m struggling with the key to my room one of the guys heads towards me asking if I need help. “NO,” I quickly say. Now I’m on high alert.

I get into my room and notice the strong stale smell. Yuck! It’s clean though. Back out at the truck while gathering the remaining items I need for the night, some guy, by himself, in a Town Car or Cadillac or something backs in and just sits there with the drivers window rolled down. What’s he doing? Then he gets out of the car, walks toward the back where the trunk meets the bushes and urinates. Major YUCK! Then a van with two people backs in and they sit there. They seem to know the guy in the car. Are they dealing drugs or what?

Once in my room again, I’m feeling really uneasy. I can report this at the hotel check-in desk. But what is she going to do? Instead I go back down to the car so I can move it to a different place. The guy from the Lincoln/Cadillac car approaches me looking for a cigarette. Acck! I drive around the parking lot but unfortunately there aren’t any spots that look better/safer. So I park it right under the door of my room between two cars that look like they’re owned by average people needing a place to stay for the night.

Tomorrow I head towards Susanville, California.
It’s 11:30 and I finally sleep.

Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could . . .
— Ralph Waldo Emerson