This post examines a pair of mistakes I made over the last year. They weren’t my only errors during this period, but they are our topic for today.
After our three-night stay at Beachside State Recreation Area in July, we rolled southward (almost) to Bandon, Oregon. On the way we passed through the sprawling (for the Oregon coast) twin cities of North Bend and Coos Bay, where a woman, likely unfamiliar with the local roadways and apparently trying to closely follow the driver ahead of her, pulled across the main road (the one we were on) too late and positioned herself ideally for being T-boned by TinMan. That would have ruined everyone’s day. We learned during this incident that TinMan’s and Toto’s brakes work quite well. Also TinMan’s horn.
We had another 17 miles (or so) to go before reaching our destination, so our collective pulse had returned to normal when we arrived.
The idea for this trip began when we decided to attend the 14th annual Oregon Coast Gathering of Fiberglass Trailers. It happens every July at Bullard’s Beach State Park near Bandon, and we missed it last year, so we decided to go, and then saw how far it was from home, and started adding stopping points, and… Bob’s your uncle, or something.
So. We began seeing more and more egg-trailers as we neared Bandon — most of the time, sightings like these are decidedly rare. We checked in at the park, found our site (really nice, really large and quite private, with full hookups) and apparently had a great time for four days. So great that I made hardly any pictures at all.
This is one of the mistakes I mentioned. I guess I took off my photographer’s hat and stuck it in a drawer and forgot to wear it. I can’t really explain it. No campsite photos! And it was a nice site. I just don’t know what to say.
I’ll share what few worthwhile images I got, though, beginning with this marginal one:
I can tell you right now that my Photography from A to Z instructor would not give me an A for this image.
Now, let’s break for a moment to discuss another goof of mine. This one happened last year, after we returned from a trip to Taidnapam Park — a campground and park created by the Tacoma Light utility on Riffe Lake in the central part of Washington. After we got home I wrote a blog post about it and, without thinking too deeply (or at all), admitted that I did not know the origin of the park’s name, only that it was named by the Cowlitz tribe and probably meant something or other.
An alert reader took me to task for failing to do my research before posting — and I have since learned that Taidnapam is actually the name of a portion of the Cowlitz tribe — specifically the portion that inhabited the upper Cowlitz River area. I went back and revised my blog post, replacing my attempt at humor with the facts as best I understood them. I think this makes Follow Toto a form of revisionist history — but maybe not. I’ll have to look that up, quick, before someone advises me to research before writing. Again.
Now, on to my other (photographic) mistake.
The dredge sits deeper in the water on the way out to the ocean; less so on its way back in. The docent explained: the dredge dumps the stuff it dredged up out in the ocean. Huh.
Outside the lighthouse, dogs are allowed. But…
When you go inside, you can see immediately why dogs aren’t allowed in there.
One day we piled into TinMan and drove into the little town of Bandon. It was pleasant! Windy, but pleasant.
Just down from our parked TinMan, a diverting rental RV of sorts.
Helpful fellow rally attendees advised us to hit the fish & chips place in town. More precisely, they advised someone else, but we overheard them. And so.
That is our report on Bullard’s Beach State Park. It is a perfectly good place to visit, and even more fun when packed with fiberglass RV enthusiasts, all of whom definitely classed the place up (except for me, of course).
After our four-day stay here, we packed up and drove south to Harris Beach State Park, just outside Brookings, Oregon. Watch for a report, coming your way soon, honest.Sharing is caring!
Following is daring.