Trips

Lured to Port Townsend, tricked into staying

August 14, 2016 By drpaddle 3 Comments

This mural adorns a building in Port Townsend’s Yacht Haven district. Nice.

We have been to Port Townsend before — many times, in fact. It’s less than two hours from home (we used to live even closer), and it has lots of boats and sights and restaurants and shops and culture and a Wooden Boat Festival complete with sing-it-yourself sea shanties. It also has a ferry terminal we use to get to Whidbey Island and points north and east.

There’s always a reason to go. Here’s another: Fort Worden State Park, one of Washington’s premier parks. Camping, trails, beach strolling, kayaking, history, and lots of fresh air, and even a new brew-pub-looking place serving food and beverages. For us, a bonus: we know some people who live in Port Townsend, so we can obtain Local Knowledge, and maybe a free beer. It could happen.

Also, eye candy:

Eye Candy everywhere. Pt. Wilson lighthouse, Admiralty Inlet, Whidbey Island, distant Cascades, and some kelp. Not a bad place for a stroll.

Just over a low dune from this vantage point: our campsite at one of the park’s two campgrounds, just a few weeks ago in late June. It was a pull-through site with full hookups — although the way the site was configured, our sewer hose wouldn’t reach. (The more camping we do, the more I think pull-through sites are best for motor homes and coaches; back-in sites seem to work better for towables like Toto.) We opted to be cautious with liquids and waited until the day we left to dump, and that worked fine.

Admiralty Inlet is just over the dunes there. Yes, we had an ocean view if we stood on the truck.

The Beach Campground is just fine. Squeaky-clean bathrooms and showers, well-spaced sites, lots to do within walking distance. You can reserve, I think, up to a year in advance; we got our site (I would call it a preferred site, one of the best) about 9 months in advance.

Sense of solitude: Not available in this campground. But all the campers were laid-back and the sites are well-spaced.

Note: staying here (or anywhere near the north end of Whidbey Island) means the occasional overflight of subsonic military aircraft. Those navy pilots are flying around honing their skills and probably shooting high-speed photos of attractive RVs. Possibly. Anyway there is a little noise from these and it can make terrier eyes get bigger and rounder. Good to see our pilots helping to protect us all from evil despots and imperialist governments or maybe space aliens. It could happen!

Some sights around the park:

A Marine Science Center ($5 donation) awaits those who long to touch sea stars.

A Marine Science Center ($5 donation) awaits at the end of a pier, for those who long to touch sea stars.

Mount Constitution (on Orcas Island in the San Juans) is the long, flat ridge in the far distance on the right. We’ll take Toto there someday, too.

Point Wilson Lighthouse, Fort Worden State Park

The park was a fort, once. We took Wally and Tyler, our intrepid terriers, on a longer-than-expected walk through some of the fortlike trappings, and will soon report on that stroll. For the moment, though:

In about 18 months of Toto travel (so far), Fort Worden is Sooz’s favorite. Works for me too.

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So into Osoyoos

July 12, 2016 By drpaddle 2 Comments

I wouldn’t hesitate to recommend Osoyoos for a holiday visit. I’m not hesitating. Also: the NkMip resort is altogether pleasant. We went in springtime — it was Memorial Day weekend back in the U.S. — and the weather was temperate. They say it gets quite warm in July and August, and we probably wouldn’t choose to go then. But you might.

This could get me in trouble, but

Don’t get mad, but we moved to the Northwest from California. The Lake Osoyoos environs remind us very much of a number of lakes in central California. While we were there, the weather reminded us of Maui. Sun, rain, humidity, breeze, calm, all in the space of 15 minutes. Unlike most of Maui, however, Osoyoos has wineries. Many wineries. They are not out of focus, back there behind Sooz, because we had been visiting them; we didn’t get a chance to do that. They are out of focus because I am trying to learn about Depth of Focus (formerly known as Depth of Field), and the learning process is not yet complete.

When time allows, one packs up the tow and heads for the Osoyoos Home Hardware Store. On the way out of the campground…

Waterfront sites on the left. Wannabe-waterfront sites on the right. Most of the wannabe sites were far from level and not very roomy, but otherwise ideal.

And then, just a couple of miles away, you’ve arrived. Wait for it…

We were advised by a number of folk to visit the Home Hardware store in downtown Osoyoos. So we did. Says here it was established in 1942. Finally found something older than me.

In case you haven’t spent much time in Canada, Home Hardware is a chain of hardware stores similar to Ace or True Value in the U.S. I happen to have written about a couple of their stores in my lifetime, because they use retail business management software solutions offered by one of my clients. I know how successful and profitable the software is supposed to make them. Surely it must.

This one was established in 1942 as Osoyoos Hardware, probably before there was a Home Hardware brand to latch onto.

Why were we advised to visit this store? I dunno. It has a large inventory and wide variety of many things. Socks, for example. Also, canes. I think I see a dartboard here. Sooz bought some trinket to take to the house-sitter.

The store kind of starts out on the level and then begins a downward spiral — not unlike that cold I had. It goes on and on, and much of it is below the street level. I looked for a long time at some string lights we might have wanted to adorn Toto’s otherwise plain awning, but not one of the offerings was quite right. I will keep looking.

Oh, I thought of a good reason to go the Home Hardware store: the NkMip Resort’s Convenience store was… inconveniently closed.

We cannot attest to the accuracy of this establishment's name. Convenience store, hmmmm. It wasn't open. Didn't feel convenient...

We cannot attest to the accuracy of this establishment’s name. Convenience store, hmmmm. It wasn’t open. Is that a crime scene tape? Dunno. Probably not. Probably just too early in the season to make it profitable.

When you get back to your campsite, though, it might be one of these. You could fish, I suppose, or launch your favorite watercraft, right from your site! It would be a wonderful thing, I’ll bet. But I don’t know for certain.

Here are some waterfront sites, close-up. We requested one when we reserved, 7 months or so ahead of time. They said they would try. They didn’t try very hard, I guess. It’s okay, we’ll get one next time! Maybe.

About our route: we didn’t get pictures along the road, but we should have — it’s a pretty drive. We drove from Gig Harbor, over Snoqualmie Pass on I-90, then turned north on US route 97, which goes all the way up. Next time I’ll stop for pix. BUT next time we’ll take another route — through North Cascades National Park. It too promises top-drawer scenery.

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Wenatchee, part duh

June 13, 2016 By drpaddle Leave a Comment

It turns our those Repose Fire Logs do more than keep us warm and give us something to stare at. They attract creatures.

Before lighting: yeah, they look unusual, but they, too, used to be trees. In this state, the logs were actually not attracting any creatures, unless you count the hordes of American Robins. It is the Year of the Robin, yes? They’re everywhere we go (or stay) this Spring.

Smoke analysis: it’s like that of traditional kindling and split wood. A little smokey when first lit, then not so much. Also, as with traditional fires, breeze constantly shifts to usher smoke toward most smoke-sensitive person nearby.

It doesn’t take long for campfire goodness to unfold.

And that attracts beings.

It wandered up quite close to our campfire; it had moved away a bit before I got the camera fired up.

Bambi appeared to be heading for the shallows between the Wenatchee and Columbia rivers, where young salmon hang out until they’re large enough to swim out into the Columbia and head for the ocean without being swallowed whole by predators. I forget what the predatory fish are called — possibly “orcs.”

The Army Corps of Engineers, or maybe some Eagle Scouts cut a channel between the rivers to create this shallow lagoon. The salmon-babies are grateful, but the orcs are just frustrated. The lagoon was just down from our campsite, behind a natural hedge of, uh, plants.

There were also some human beings, but they did not approach too closely. And I had showered! But here is the thing: Sooz and I were both fighting colds, or flu, or some other upper respiratory affliction. There was some sneezing and coughing. Had I been a nearby human (and you could make the point that I was, but I mean other nearby human), I would have kept my distance.

And this brings our Wenatchee Confluence State Park saga to a close. I leave you with another lagoon shot. While I try to sort through the pix of our next destination — Osoyoos, BC — maybe you can see if you can find Bambi in there somewhere.

When you camping, you look at clouds more carefully. Why is that?

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Wenatchee, Apple Capital of the World

June 11, 2016 By drpaddle Leave a Comment

That’s right — it’s the Apple Capital of the World. It says so in big letters everywhere you look in Wenatchee. As we approached, and while we were there, and as we left, and then later as we came back through on the way home, we saw orchards, fruit stands, and all sorts of evidence of a healthy apple industry.

We did not, however, sample the apples. We did other stuff. The first of which was to park in this campsite the size of Lichtenstein, located at Wenatchee Confluence State Park.

Spacious campsites along the outside of the loops. These pull-through sites have extra-long pads that would accommodate some mightily large rigs. We were able to roll around the site until Toto was completely level — no levelers and no unhooking required.

We didn’t want to unhook because (a) we were only staying two days and felt we didn’t need to stray far from the site, (b) we had bicycles we planned to use anyway, and (c) unhooking and re-hooking causes unsightly perspiration (see future post on an upcoming power-tongue-hitch upgrade).

Our campsite had some welcome afternoon shade. Some sites around the campground are more shaded (more trees)… these pull-throughs on the edge, not so much. But most have a nearby tree where you can park a chair and contemplate.

We stayed two nights here. Originally we had planned to stay for one night only, but then someone told us about the Apple Capital Recreation Loop Trail, which we will presently discuss at length. From our campsite, here is how you get to it:

Our campsite was right next to a path 'trailhead.' This multipurpose trail headed off to a swimming beach, a launch ramp, some day use areas and, ultimately, to a connection with the mighty Apple Capital Recreation Loop Trail.

Our campsite was right next to a path ‘trailhead.’ This multipurpose path headed off to a swimming beach, a launch ramp, some day use areas and, ultimately, to a connection with the mighty Apple Capital Recreation Loop Trail.

This trail, which several locals called The Loop, is about 11 miles long, and forms (wait for it) a loop around part of the Columbia River. Half the trail is on the west shore, half on the east; there’s a pedestrian bridge (or at least a pedestrian path along a bigger bridge) at both the north and south ends.

If you had recently acquired bicycles and someone told you “flat trail, really nice, fun, scenic,” etc., you would change your booking at the state park to two nights, so you could try this trail. At least that’s what you would do if you were us.

As you cruise (in our case, poke) along the campground trail, you can, if you want, look across the river. That’s East Wenatchee over there.

The Columbia River. East Wenatchee… beckons.

The path wound through the park and, eventually, we found the Loop Trail and headed southbound (Confluence Park is near the north end of the Loop).

Once on the westside Loop trail, one encounters a string of shoreline parks. Somebody put a lot of thought and money into these. There’s something for everyone, and it all looks lovingly maintained. See that lightpost on the left side? The entire west side of the Loop is similarly lighted, so you may cruise, or poke, even when it’s dark outside, and you might be fine. But don’t go alone, okay? You could get hit by a falling apple and maybe no one will be there to help you. At night, I mean.

There is a native American legend about a coyote and his adventures helping salmon, yearning to spawn, upriver past a beaver dam. There’s no information on how the beavers felt about all this, but local sculptors know a healthy commission when they see one. There’s lots of art like this along the Loop. Pretty cool.

Did I mention apples? The place is crawling with them, and with all sorts of apple-focused businesses. You can’t even ride The Loop without being assaulted by apple paraphernalia, apple industry, apple lore.

More art along The Loop. Hey, we found something moving more slowly than us!

I dunno, you see one might river, you've seen 'em all, right?

I dunno, you see one mighty river, you’ve seen ’em all, right?

At the south end of The Loop there’s a 100+-year-old bridge, originally built to carry water to the then non-existent East Wenatchee. The idea was to make the area cultivable, by making water available. The bridge carried a pair of 12-inch pipes across (still does), and the scheme worked: orchards, houses, Walmarts, the whole thing — it all cropped up and eventually someone (Captain Obvious?) called it East Wenatchee. In the 90s, or maybe the 80s, the bridge was refurbished and a pedestrian walkway was added. So now the bridge transports both water and Loop enthusiasts across the Columbia. What doesn’t this bridge transport? Sooz. She’s not really into bridges. Yet.

Yeah, it’s just a big old bridge.

And then we rode back. At some point our sitting apparati got a little tender and we realized maybe an 8 mile ride would have been just the ticket. Rookie mistake! A fun day, though. We relaxed with a glass of real wine (NOT apple wine) and (of course) a Repose Fire Log fire.

Relaxing after a long day of sitting on bicycles.

You will want to know every detail of our fire-enjoying, including a visit from local wildlife. I will provide, soon.

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Champoeg State Park in Oregon

June 6, 2016 By drpaddle Leave a Comment

On our way to the Spring NOG at Waterloo we spent a very pleasant evening at Champoeg State Park, about an hour southwest of Portland, Oregon. We only had a little bit of time to explore, but hey, we’re going back. What a nice place, especially for one so close to a big city.

It’s not glaciers or pounding surf, but it’s quiet and relaxing. Views like this from all around the campground.

We stayed in a small loop off the larger loop, lured by its promise of pull-through sites and proximity to some river or other. Walking around the campground, we found many other, non-pull through sites that would have offered more privacy. But for an overnight our site was still a 9.5.

Toto tucked into a small pull-through campsite.

The campsites are quite nice here. Pull-throughs are set up oddly — facing the inside of a loop instead of outside. We think this was due to space limitations. It means your view is, in many cases, of other campers. Great view or lousy, depending on the other campers (our neighbors were all exceptionally nice-looking, of course).

After we set up camp, Sooz and the boys chilled while I investigated a nearby path.

Just across from our campsite, a path beckoned. Actually a little hydrant of some kind beckoned first, but then there was this path, so I took it.

Just across from our campsite, a path beckoned. Actually a little hydrant of some kind beckoned first — it appears to be saying “Welcome!” or “Oooohh Noooooo!” depending on your recollection of early SNL seasons. But then there was this path, so I took it.

The forest path appeared to be headed for a larger, more grownup path. One with paving of some kind.

Sure enough, a pleasant multi-use trail beckoned. A lot of beckoning goes on around here.

Remember that nearby river I mentioned? Of course you do.

Okay now I get it. The multi-use trail hugs the shoreline of this lazy river. It does look lazy, doesn't it? This close to Portland, I would have expected... quirky river. This one is definitely lazy. I looked it up: it's the Willamette River. I know this word because I've seen it on a lot of wine bottle labels. You don't get too many views of the river from the part of the trail I investigated; but I only went a short way. Next time we will stay for a few days and bike around. We can and we will.

Okay now I get it. The multi-use trail hugs the shoreline of this lazy river. It does look lazy, doesn’t it? This close to Portland, I would have expected… a quirky river. This one is definitely lazy. I looked it up: it’s the Willamette River. I know this word because I’ve seen it on a lot of wine bottle labels. You don’t get too many views of the river from the part of the trail I investigated; but I only went a short way. Next time we will stay for a few days and bike around. We can and we will.

In the morning I strolled again. I saw things.

The dog exercise area is a highlight, if you’re a dog or a dog’s pal. Here is what the campground looks like if you are tall dog, pausing from your exercise.

Note the lovely weather. It did not follow us to the NOG.

This is Joe, a Barn Swallow. I think. There's a nest-box attached to this post, and maybe it's Joe's house (or at least a vacation rental). Joe and I chatted during my morning stroll. I think I carried the conversation, but maybe he thinks he did. Wow, maybe this is Josephine. Also, possibly a Robin.

This is Joe, a juvenile but already wise Barn Swallow. I think. There’s a nest-box attached to this wooden post, and maybe it’s Joe’s house (or at least a vacation rental). Joe and I chatted during my morning stroll. I think I carried the conversation; maybe he thinks he did. Wow, maybe this is Josephine. Also, possibly a Robin. Not a Western Bluebird — Joe or Josephine’s wings were decidedly swept back. I should have brought my longer lens on this walk.

And finally…

I don't know. Maybe "Courtesy Guide" sounds better than "Campground Regulations."

There was this Courtesy Guide. Maybe “Courtesy Guide” sounds better than “Campground Regulations.”

Metal Dectecting Prohibited! What is that about? I’ll try to find out.

On our way out of the park, Toto in tow, we saw many appealing things beckoning to us. A heritage area with old buildings and explanatory signs. Many day use areas. A disc golf course (or two). More river access. Other bits of that multi-use trail. We will be back, with our golf discs and bicycles, in early August, headed home from an Oregon coast trip. Can’t wait.

Oh, one more thing. The bathrooms and showers were spotless, in case that’s a thing.

Oh, another thing. We learned, after arriving at Waterloo, that Champoeg is properly pronounced “Shampoo-ee.” Okay.

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NOG. It’s an actual thing, sometimes in Waterloo.

June 2, 2016 By drpaddle 3 Comments

Not long ago we set out for Waterloo County Park in Lebanon, Oregon, USA. It wasn’t our idea; a group of fiberglass trailer enthusiasts chose the park for its 2016 Spring NOG, a Northern Oregon–or, depending on whom you ask, Not Organized–Gathering.

The group gathers twice annually; the next meet, scheduled for the first weekend in October, will be at Nehalem Bay State Park, also in Oregon. Probably Northern Oregon, but I think that is Just a Guideline and the group can stretch its boundaries as much as it wants.

Waterloo County Park, which is in Linn County, Oregon, hugs the south bank of the South Santiam River. The terriers refused to go swimming here.

This is the second NOG we have attended; you will (or won’t) recall our visit last October to Fort Stevens State Park in… northern Oregon.

Why did we attend? Well. The people are nice. The park looked good in the photographs (and in real life). And we had a chance to rendezvous with friends we’d made at previous gatherings here and there.

We also saw people like this, who have Pygmy kayaks and an Escape 21. Ya know, stuff in common. Yeah, I know there are no actual people in the shot, but this stuff doesn’t get to the parks without people to drag them there. We saw them, and their dog, too. Nice puppy.

Side note: there is also a Washington Area Gathering held annually at Taidnapam Power Park near Morton, Washington. We are supposed to go to that tomorrow, but we’re not, because (a) it’s going to be 97 degrees Fahrenheit and that is outside our comfort zone and (b) a good friend needs Sooz’s company and (c) we just got back from British Columbia and (d) did I mention 97 degrees? Unacceptable. Last year’s Taidnapam rally was more temperate.

There are those who revel in hot weather. I do not want to get in their way. We will stay home and dig sprinkler trenches or do something else that’s equally fun.

So, Waterloo County Park.

I don’t know what kind of flower this is, but it brightened up some otherwise gray weather. Not too wet. Just a little gray.

The park has few of these nifty pavilions. People pay actual money to rent them for their gatherings, but the park loves this group so much they didn’t charge us. Probably because the busy season hasn’t started yet, and here we all are feeding the county’s coffers with campsite fees. Which are quite reasonable, by the way. We gathered here at least twice, to cook hot dogs and for a potluck dinner. The reason you can’t see any of us in this photo is that I took it when we weren’t there.

The park has a disc golf course, too. I tried it, with my new set of three golf discs given me last December. The course was hilly, and my disc golf form is marginal — no, not even marginal. So I got to throw the discs many, many times, and walk up and down hills and crawl under ferns, etc., to retrieve errant discs. 1.5 hours, only 9 holes, and many sore muscles. Fun, though.

The campground is quite nice, and many of the campsites are lovely. Ours was just middling, and our picnic table was under some constantly dripping trees. So I rigged a cooking station under the awning.

And I cooked Toto Legs. They taste like chicken, and people at the pot luck ate ’em.

They really do taste like chicken.

One morning the boys and I went for a walk while Sooz went shopping with one of the kayak people. And saw this.

Look! We found a launch ramp. There is a sign warning of a nearby waterfall. It turns out there is no internationally accepted icon for “impending waterfall-related doom” so the sign is text-based. If this were covered in the New York Times opinion section, there would be commentary about how this sign isn’t inclusive enough, and should be multi-lingual or more graphic or something, and then other readers would comment that if boaters want to go boating in this country and avoid waterfalls and other hazards then they should learn English, because America. Yes, I have spent too much time reading the Times opinion section lately. (Note: I don’t have an opinion about the sign or any of that other stuff. That is why I read the Times — so I can enjoy other people’s opinions).

All right I’d better get back to work. Before I form any opinions.

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