Day 53 – May 26

After a very comfortable night in the yurt, which was about sixteen feet across and could sleep six in a combination of a double and 3/4 bunk bed and a futon, we headed out. Jane and Ike left first in search of a gas fill up with the plan that we would meet up somewhere on the road towards the Columbia River Gorge, our destination for the night. We hadn’t caught up to them by Madras but as we turned on to the 97 north there they were, strategically parked in a MacDonald’s parking lot so that we would see them. We joined them there for coffee and a quick wifi huddle as we face timed our various relatives and I posted a three day back log to the blog, untypically bereft of photos.

Bend was a great stop for us all, a tasteful mix of culture, nature and craft beer. The surrounding mountains, Bachelor and the Three Sisters providing a striking snow capped backdrop to the many craftsman style houses and low scale historic buildings that made up the parts of Bend we had the opportunity to see. Bend may require a revisit at some point.

The drive north initially took us through very lush cattle, horse and agricultural land that was all heavily irrigated, even the grazing land, with various contraptions. The most visually interesting irrigation systems were mobile devices that consisted of about a 4″ pipe that passes through the hubs of 4′ diameter spoked metal wheels that are placed about 25′ apart along the length of the pipe. Sprinkler heads on the pipe water the land immediately around the path of the pipe, which in some installations stretches for thousands of feet across the fields. Underground water must be plentiful if the profusion of irrigation is any indicator. Once we passed from this area we were in scrub desert-like terrain, an indication of the need and impact of the irrigation on the fields that we had just passed through. Without the water this is what those lands would look like.

Closer to the Washington border it appears that the rainfall increases witnessed by the rolling green fields of grain that we passed through where there were no signs of artificial irrigation. As we approached Biggs we drove through a massive wind turbine array. Hundreds upon hundreds of the iconic white turbines spotted the horizon in front of us as far as we could see. As in the array we had seen in California, the land under the turbines is used for agricultural purposes.

We passed through Biggs, our agreed rendezvous, somewhat unceremoniously as before we knew it we were on a bridge, crossing over the Columbia River and into Washington state. We were told that the most scenic view of the Columbia River Gorge was from the highway on the Washington side rather than the interstate on the Oregon side. After a stop for a picnic lunch on the Maryville Art Museum grounds, overlooking the Columbia River we felt it prudent to start looking for a place to stay. It was Sunday night on the Memorial Day long weekend so we were prepared for some effort.

Columbia River Gorge

We pulled into a picnic park at the edge of the river for a while to watch the fleet of windsurfers and kite boarders that were racing back and forth across the river, riding the wind that was being funnelled down the gorge.

A ‘board’ meeting

At the first state camping park we saw we stopped and were met with shaking heads as soon as the armadillo pulled in. We were directed to a private campground back across the river on the Oregon side, with the provision that ‘ it wasn’t fancy’ so we headed in that direction. Now I love understatement, it has a place in our toolbox of communications, but when we pulled into that post apocalyptic piece of landscape that made Dresden after the bombing look like a gated community I knew that this lady was a master of the under statement. By comparison a Walmart parking lot would have been an upgrade to first class. I didn’t even turn the vehicle off as we rolled through the parking lot and back on to the 84 west in Oregon, and thus marking the shortest time in any state on the trip to date.

Not far along the road we spotted a sign for the Memaloose State Park. As the armadillo rolled to stop in front of the camp host’s trailer there was no shaking head and as Diane pointed to our parking lot full of vehicles I detected a faint nod. As luck would have it there had been several I scheduled check outs the night before – we were in and we had adjacent sites, with hook ups. In the crap game of finding accommodations on the Memorial Day weekend we had just rolled a string of sevens and elevens. As an added bonus we were actually at a site before 6:00 allowing us the luxury of the time to sit and have some conversation and appetizers. Our various schedules and commitments are very soon going to lead to diverging paths for the members of the armadillo so opportunities like this are all the more cherished.

As our provisions were getting a bit low the menu for the night was ’empty the fridge spaghetti’, a variation on stone soup. Everyone brought out of their fridge what might be an acceptable addition to the sauce or to the salad and voila, empty the fridge spaghetti with trimmings paired with some Napa Valley wine. Delicious.

We spent some time around the campfire watching the dozens of kids and their parents playing. As much chaos as all those activities created it really brought home to us, especially on this long weekend, what great memories get created at places like this on weekends like this. Possibly it was our own childhood memories of camping that gave us the inspiration and I would offer the courage to set off on this trip – a chance to revisit sleeping in a portable house and spending time around a campfire with friends, an experience that just never gets old.

Day 54 – May 27

Our plan was to be on the road by 9:30 heading down the Columbia gorge. Unfortunately the beautiful weather of the previous day and early night had changed to overcast skies and spitting rain. We made a stop in Stevenson to get some info on the gorge and then headed off to explore some of the many falls that cascaded down the cliff side on this stretch of the Oregon side of the river.

Over the gorge

The Falls

A detour off of the interstate took us to a very narrow stretch of road that wound along at the foot of several of the falls. However the traffic was heavy and the road very narrow so after seeing the most notable and photographed of the falls, Multnomah, Diane and I , Jane and Ike headed back to the 84 interstate. Sean and Carla stayed on the road and viewed a couple of more falls. Their plan was to stop in Camping World to pick up some RV supplies. Our plan was to all meet up that night at Devils Lake State Park.

We stopped for gas and groceries on the way and continued our drive to the coast. At places, the oncoming traffic, returning on a Monday night from a long weekend, was bumper to bumper. We were glad to be driving in the opposite direction.

We arrived at Devils Lake Park to find that it had got a lot of rain the previous night and we had to be selective to find a parking pad that was not partially or fully covered in water. One site was so wet that two ducks were actually paddling around in the standing water. By the time we found three dryish sites, Sean and Carla arrived. It was too wet to eat outside so we hosted a supper of turkey burgers and salad in the BRT.

Jane and Ike’s schedule is going to have them head out in advance of us tomorrow in order to meet their ferry schedule for heading north so this will probably be our last supper together as the armadillo, a milestone that even after 54 days seems to have raced up on us. It will take some adjustment to get used to a new configuration and eventually all travelling on our own during the latter legs of our respective trips