California

Joshua Tree’s Southern Environs

April 21, 2020 By drpaddle Leave a Comment

So, did I mention River Run RV Park in Bakersfield? Maybe I should have. We stayed there for one night on our way south, and it was just fine. Close-in to town, if you like that sort of thing. Very nicely maintained. Not particularly scenic, despite the river. We would recommend for an overnight, though there are no facilities for picking “free” oranges, an activity we will later discuss. So bring your own oranges if you need ’em.

We left the place early on New Year’s Eve and got over the Tehachapis for a mid-morning appointment at the Lance factory in Lancaster, California. Back on the road an hour later, skirting the southern edge of the Mojave, then over a very windy Cajon Pass and down into the Riverside area. Lots of freeways, concrete, palm trees, wind, and traffic: pretty much the southern California experience, but no ocean view. A tiring drive.

Our destination: the Cottonwood campground, accessed through Joshua Tree National Park’s southern entrance, and about seven miles north of some exit off I-10. The road is narrow, winding, and peppered with concrete sections placed wherever washes (dry when we saw them) cut across it.

Then you get to the campground, high up on a bluff, fill the water tank, and park here.

Our New Year’s Eve campsite at Joshua Tree.

We would love to have stayed for a few days (hope to get back some time). Other-worldly. Many stars at night. Authentic coyote-howling sounds, too. A good place to start the new year.

Arid landscape. Parched air. Rapid nightfall (and rapidly plummeting temperature). For the first time since leaving Washington, we felt a sense of true departure from home.

It was one of those wide-spot-in-the-road campsites, and the wide spot wasn’t very level. Getting tucked in to it was a challenge: boulders emphatically defined either end of the parking pad.

We also felt cold, after awhile, because our furnace stopped working. That evening, and several times overnight, I started what became a weeks-long process of fiddling with the furnace’s sail switch (a safety device that’s also a common weak point in RV furnaces). Couple of jackets, slip-on shoes, screwdriver, headlight, warm hat, good supply of swear words. Cold out there (around freezing I think).

Got it working (for a bit). Next day I began a lengthy search for replacement sail switches. We would have hookups for the next week or so, so there was time to effect a repair. I thought.

In the morning we rose early for a return to I-10 and our foray into Arizona. January 1: the first day reservations were open for a campground we wanted to visit in August, and we had to get back into mobile network range to make that happen. Success! Reservations secured, we pointed Chief eastward, toward Casa Grande. And cheaper gas!

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Wintering South in the Before Times

April 20, 2020 By drpaddle 4 Comments

Before everything went south, we did — to California and Arizona.

Even before the trip began, it was pretty weird times for Team Toto. In the second half of 2019: some parents expired; an ailing relative visited at our place so he could work with Seattle doctors; the terriers continued their aging thing; and so did we. Everything seemed a little nuts.

Through it all, we somehow managed to plan a trip to spend the holidays with (as it turned out, a slightly smaller) family in the Sacramento area, and to then continue toward destinations scenic, southerly, and (in one case), infested, with, I mean inhabited by, additional family.

Yes, we thought those were weird times. It was December, 2019, and we took our sense of loss and dread and just went. Why cancel a trip just because odd things had occurred? It turned out to be good that we went, of course, because now all those campgrounds are closed.

But I am getting ahead of myself.

Like so many earlier trips, this one began at an RV Resort owned by a band of native Americans.

Our trip started two days later than planned — we had to wait out a storm that turned I-5 in southern Oregon into an ice rink. Seven Feathers RV Resort welcomed us (and hardly anyone else) our first night out. In the photo above, if you look to the left back there beyond our rig, you’ll see an Escape fiberglass trailer. Apparently we can’t get completely away from them (and why would we want to?). You can also see that the storm had washed all the colors away from the resort.

Here is another thing that you can’t see in the photo: that the RV sites at Seven Feathers form an ideal setting for studying illusion and reality. Illusion: your rig is situated perfectly parallel to the edge of the parking pad.

Reality: no, it’s not. It only looks that way from Chief’s driver seat. Exit the truck, walk up by the front bumper, and look back, and the sense of parallelism disappears.

Even worse: walk back to the Toto’s stern and turn around. Not even close to parallel — in fact, crooked in the other direction, at a different angle.

Climb back aboard Chief, adjust the rig’s position, then get out and look again.

Worse.

This is about the time that the more attractive member of the team offers up: “Life is hard for you, isn’t it?”

I’ll have more to say about this later. This phenomenon occurs regularly, but it’s more obvious at locations with straight-edged parking pads. I do not expect to have any answers, but I’ll have more questions.

Meanwhile, we got ourselves to Folsom Lake State Recreation Area, where we’ve been many times before. Close family, pleasant campsites, and overrun with rattlesnakes only during mid-summer, when we never go.

One lights the fire. One sets out the chairs. One waits for a refreshment as a reward (in addition to the reward of just being outside). One waits in vain.

Holidays! No white Christmas in the greater Sacramento area. But it was good to gather with family. We even got to see some wonderful, longtime friends who gathered for a final goodbye to one of the aforementioned croaked parents.

We have not been accused of being overly ambitious with our holiday decor. It did begin to look quite festive about the time that glass became empty.

Onward. Our plan was to rocket down California Route 99 for an overnight in Bakersfield, then jump over the Tehachapi range on the way to a Joshua Tree National Park campsite. BUT.

Did I mention that the Toto had a little bump on his brow? He did.

Yeah, the Toto is dirty in this picture. This is not my fault; the dirt did it. Anyway, just below and to the left of the yellow marker light, there is this bump. Is it serious enough to have repaired? No one knows, but everyone has an opinion.

He was born with it. We didn’t notice it when we first adopted the little tyke, but we saw it later, and it bothered us. So upon departing Bakersfield, we wound our way over the Tehachapis, and then veered south toward the Toto’s birthplace in Lancaster, California, a high-desert place where trailers are born.

The Lance Trailer team in Lancaster determined that the Toto’s bump ought to be smoothed out, and we agreed to a late-January reunion (in Lancaster) to that end. And then we motored on, over Cajon Pass, toward the south end of Joshua Tree.

I will say this about our drive through central and southern California: the roads are too damned bumpy. Now, maybe if I were in charge of CalTrans, I couldn’t do any better. But I surely wish they could. Bumpy! And we have already seen how the team feels about bumps.

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Beals Point Campground, Folsom Lake State Recreation Area

April 19, 2015 By drpaddle Leave a Comment

Our 11-day trip to California is complete, without any undue hardships and with some great memories, too. So busy, though — not much time to share with you while we were out. So, hey, here is a place we stayed.

A lot of this land is supposed to be underwater, but Father Nature says No Water for YOU, California!

You can’t see this view (or any lake view) from the Beals Point campground at Folsom Lake State Recreation Area. That’s because the lake was created with a dam…

Folsom Dam, California, half-naked to the world, without its usual privacy screen of water.

Without this dam there would be no Folsom Lake. Hey, there might no Folsom Lake pretty soon anyway!

… and it takes more than a dam to hold all that water in. If there is any…

One of many berms that help form Folsom Lake. Some of these berms are probably feeling a little bored about now.

… and back there behind that berm is the Beals Point campground — at least, the part of it with spacious pads and RV hookups. See, so that’s why you can’t see the lake, if there is one, from the campsite.

Disclaimer: there is an older, larger section of the campground, designed more for tent- and dry-camping, that may include views of the lake. I didn’t get over there to check it out, because we were busy watching for snakes.

Rattlesnake Advisory sign at Folsom Lake.

As we have discussed, Team Toto has an anti-snake bias. There, we’ve said it. We’re not ashamed.

This is the only snake we saw. The one on the sign, I mean. That was enough for us.

So, the other reason we were so busy is that, for some of the team, this wasn’t a camping trip, or an RVing trip, or anything like that. This was a trip to have The Party.

The idea was to celebrate our daughter’s birthday, and also to throw in my mother’s birthday because it had just occurred and we, of course, hadn’t been there to celebrate it in person, because we don’t live there, because there are snakes. We did, however, live in the San Francisco Bay Area for many years and had latched onto a few friends before we decided that living in a damp, cool, rainy climate with good kayaking was more important than strolling along a sunny beach every day. Surely that’s another tale for another time.

Yeah, so we invited our closest, longtime friends to join us for The Party, which was really just a picnic at our campsite. But party prep, party management and party decommissioning was preposterously time-consuming.

Random people quietly celebrating birthdays at our campsite.

We stocked up on soda pop, water, light beer, regular beer and wine for this party. Guess what was most popular?

Tyler and Wally enjoy parties as much as I do; possibly more so. These two terrier images were captured by my niece, but somehow the FollowToto2015 brand has found its way onto them. Never fear, niece: if these images ever generate any revenue, I’ll make a small donation to my brother’s favorite charity. (My niece.)

Tyler doing what I like to do at parties (hide).

Wally, hiding and relaxing at The Party.

Wally knows how to party, too.

The Party was a success, and afterward I got to pretend we were camping for a day.

Bagels toasting on the outdoor camp stove.

Bagels for breakfast at Beals Point. Details: the toaster is nearly 30 years old (and looks it), but it still works. The bagels are “low-carb” which appears to mean “low-mass” and possibly “low-flavor.”

About the campground: Beals Point Campground is run by a concessionaire of the State of California. The staff there were all knowledgeable, friendly, helpful. The campsite fees are kind-of high, because California. The place was well maintained. The snakes left us alone. We would go back if we were in the area. So there.

A waterfront picnic pavilion yearns for some water. Heck, there’s plenty of water in California. You can buy it by the gallon at Safeway.

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They call it Blowdega Bay. But why??? Oh.

April 16, 2015 By drpaddle Leave a Comment

In life, you get some valley time, you get some beach time. We completed our valley time on Monday morning and headed for the beach. It was kind-of windy on the way. Felt like a headwind. TinMan’s estimated mileage calculator indicated “keep working, bub, you’re gonna need to buy a lot more gas.”

Yeah. We got to Doran Regional Park, on a sand spit in Bodega Bay, and sure, it was breezy.

Kite-surfers, bay, whitecaps, you get the idea.

Sure, THEY liked the steady, 25-knot wind. But it made the Maxxfan moan all night.

The wind was much, much worse the next day. Fortunately, we weren’t there that much — we were being lost on a dozen different Sonoma County country roads. We got rewarded though: friend Pat gave us four bottles of wine she had made herself (already tested… already loved), and we got to spend time with her fabulous Cairn terriers Runa and Rosso.

Runa, brindle-colored Cairn terrier. Gorgeous.

Runa and I are going to be good friends, I could tell.

Rosso the Cairn terrier, yawning, or smiling, I can't tell.

Rosso kept popping up onto my leg to say hi. Maybe he likes me. Maybe he thought I had a treat to offer.

Pat knows all about Cairn terriers. We are Cairn terrier novices compared to her. But it is our privilege to care for two of them, and that is enough. Pat gives us suggestions when we get puzzled about them, and all four of us are better for it. But Pat gave us something even more important than Cairn terrier advice on this trip. She took us to lunch at a charming, small-town eatery. We took two bottles of her own hand-made wine to sample. Dogs stayed behind and played or chilled, we’ll never know.

This is Pat’s wine. She made it. Our job was to drink it. Success!

The next morning, it was time to head back toward home, and we all know what that means… the weather improved. Observe.

When the wind abated, our lives were transformed. For two minutes. Then we had to pack up and head home.

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Bunnies, not snakes. Whew.

April 14, 2015 By drpaddle Leave a Comment

Our four-night stay at Folsom Lake State Recreation Area near Sacramento, CA, was snake-free. They may have lurking out there, watching us, be we didn’t see ’em.

However.

By the third night, I was having nightmares about jackrabbits roughly as tall as the Empire State building. You sit in your camp chair, thinking you’re going to relax, and then the ground starts shaking. Your visiting family member points toward what passes for the woods in this part of the world. Pairs of ears, pointing toward the Milky Way, and nearly reaching it.

Looks kind-of thoughtful, doesn’t he? What do bunnies think about? Oh, that’s right, never mind.

I didn’t really have nightmares, but gadzooks those bunnies are tall. We had fun watching them until Tyler and Wally spotted the from their napping location in Toto’s master bedroom. Ever heard a Cairn terrier bay? It’s hilarious, and maybe a little creepy. The bunnies high-eared it outta there. Note: friend Pat says these are hares, not bunnies. Okay.

They are having a drought here, possibly because they’re bored with the weather. It’s always nice here! But now it’s been too nice for too long. Time to get out of there before they shut the water off. Off to Bodega Bay.

We’ll miss the bunnies.

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Thar be snakes here.

April 11, 2015 By drpaddle 2 Comments

Yesterday saw us safely over our last bit of mountains, into the Central Valley and, at last, backing into our site at Folsom Lake State Recreation Area.

Toto parked at his campsite, with picnic table and firepit close at hand.

There’s a drought on here in California, but we managed to reserve a campsite where things are still slightly green. Yeah, I know, campsite not set up yet. We’re tip-toeing around, checking for rattlesnakes.

This is an interesting place. First, it’s close to my family, and believe me, they’re interesting. Don’t get me started. Seriously, they’re all good folk, each wonderful and well above average. We’ve seen a few and tomorrow, Saturday, we’ll see more; we’re celebrating a daughter’s birthday, a mom’s birthday, and the fact that nobody has gotten snake-bit. Yet.

Besides being close to family, the campground is close to Folsom Lake. (From our campsite there’s a trail you can walk for maybe 100 yards and be up on top of one of the dikes that help form the lake.) But.

Check the California State Parks website, look at Folsom Lake SRA, and be informed: this is rattlesnake country. They’re vipers, they’re poisonous, and they’ll bite you if they feel threatened when you get very, very close to them.

It’s true that they’re not aggressive. They’re not going to see us from across the lake and come slithering in our direction just to attack. I think we’re too big to ingest. But if you fling your foot or arm or leg or whatever too close to them, they get nervous, and make their rattles rattle, and then inject you with six pints of venom — enough to kill a small elephant.

Oh, all right, I’m exaggerating, but still, they’re snakes. ARE YOU PAYING ATTENTION? Why would anyone camp here? “Avoid trails.” “If you must use a trail, where loose-fitting trousers, preferably made of titanium, and possibly add steel-reinforced hiking boots.” “Also, be prepared to run faster — much faster — than your hiking companions.”

I still may be making some of this up. But this is SnakeLand, seriously, and Team Toto is essentially zero-tolerant when it comes to snakes. Even the garter snakes in the back yard at home have caused minor strokes and strained lower backs.

My brother, who lives about a mile from here, has tried to reassure me. “They only come out when it’s HOT.” Hey, it’s 75 degrees Fahrenheit, that’s hot by western Washington standards. But here in Granite Bay, 105 is hot. Okay. Maybe the reptiles will leave us alone.

I dunno. Today I had to work all day, writing copy for purveyors of software. It’s good work, and their products, I think, actually do people some good, and I’m lucky they ask me to help.

Sooz went out with my sister-in-law to stock up on party goods. There was also a lengthy discussion with State Parks professionals about accommodating 12 guests to celebrate a combined 130 years of happy living.

The logistics are ridiculous, but this is what I get for not having amassed a fortune and having them all out to my own private lodge with two miles of Lake Tahoe waterfront. I meant to, I really did. Got distracted.

We’ll let you know how the snakepit — I mean, the birthday party — turns out.

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