A Travel Trailer Roadtrip

Anne and I planned a six day five night road trip to the southern Oregon and northern California coast for September, after the kiddies were back in school. We left on Monday and drove to Florence, Oregon, in mostly heavy rain. This was going to be a good test for “Morse,” our Mini Max travel trailer. 

Morse named after the Oxford detective of British TV  because we hoped our Morse would be as interesting and competent as its namesake. Looking for some respite from the rain, we remembered that the Gingerbread House in Mapleton had reopened as a restaurant in the past year. It was a good spot for a split of sandwich and gingerbread as well as a break from driving in the rain. 

The soggy Gingerbread House

A quick review of the Gingerbread House would include friendly service, decent sandwich, and great gingerbread.  On our first night we boondocked or dry camped (without hook up) in the RV parking area of the Three Rivers Casino—one night free, up to three more nights with a certain amount of casino play. It’s a good deal if you don’t lose your caravan (that’s what the Scots call a travel trailer) title at the tables—we didn’t. 

The first night of the trip at Florence.

Three times during the night I was awakened by extremely heavy rain showers pounding on our fiberglass roof. Through all that rain we found no leaks. Thank you. Morse.

The next morning after a lucky turn in the casino winning back all I had lost the night before, we breakfasted at the Brown Hen Restaurant in Florence. 

Anne appears in most of the food pictures. Her smile is better than any of the meals.

Always great food, huge portions, and one of the few places left that will only accept cash. Our destination for the day was the Bandon/Port Orford KOA campgrounds—to be our first stay in an improved campground. At Winchester Bay, an active pleasure boat and fishing port, we stopped for coffee at the Winchester Bakery. It was closed, as was most of the other businesses in town. What wasn’t closed was for sale, including the local real estate office. Hard times for small villages on the Oregon coast (and elsewhere). 

By the time we arrived at the KOA (Kampgrounds of America, one of several nationwide systems of campgrounds which includes RV sites, cabins, and tent sites), the rain had passed. We easily hooked up Morse to the shore electrical system and tried to deal with a grumbling fridge and a series of blinking warning lights. 

Bandon/Port Orford KOA

We called the service department at our RV dealer and they gave us an answer to our problems. It turns out their answer was wrong, but it led us to a solution anyway. With things working again we unhitched our Ford F150 tow vehicle and drove back to Bandon (now famous for its five world class golf courses). A little retail therapy at Bandon Face Rock Creamery (the old Bandon Cheese Factory) and two local sweet shops helped us forget about our recalcitrant fridge. 

The counter girl is slicing some wonderful Dry Monteray Jack cheese for me.

Cranberry Goodies Galore

This sculpture in Bandon is made from recycled junk found washed up on local beaches.

We drove out for photos of the Coquille River Lighthouse. 

One of the friendly locals.

And then back into town for a lovely dinner at Angelo’s Italy—wonderful Italian bistro. 

Then back again out for sunset photos of the lighthouse. To get back to Morse who was basking in the electric juices, we drove the old scenic coastal highway for beach photos.

On the Bandon coastal scenic route.

Our night’s sleep was not interrupted by rain storms, thankfully, but it was a cold night because we left too many windows open—so much to learn.

At the KOA we got several “cute rig” comments, and I’m not sure how Morse liked being called, “Cute.” We drove a few miles back to the village of Langlois for breakfast at the Spoon (used to the Greasy Spoon). 

It’s a funky, new age-type restaurant in the middle of nowhere that serves plentiful, good tasting food. After breakfast we hitched Morse (we’re getting better at this) to the F150 (which we’ve now named “Lewis,” who is great on his own, but goes well with Morse) ready for our drive to Crescent City KOA in California. Our first side trip for the day was to Cape Blanco Lighthouse, the most westerly lighthouse in the lower 48. 

Views from Cape Blanco

Off this road there were several side trips we couldn’t take because of towing a trailer (even a small one). The road was quite rough and when we got to the parking lot for the lighthouse we spent a bit of time picking up in the trailer--they say that when going down the road with a trailer, the trailer is going through a 6.5 earthquake all the time. After taking photos from the view point, we continued on to Crescent City. Past Gold Beach we stopped for photos and a stretch at Pistol River where we used to run our sled dog team along the beach when we lived in Brookings. 

The beaches by Pistol River.

Our team on a Pistol river run, about 1982.

My how Brookings has changed! When we lived there in 1980-84 it was a sleepy coastal town with barely a grocery store. On this day we couldn't find a place to park truck and trailer in the large and very full Fred Meyer’s lot. In Harbor we did find room to park and had a good lunch at the Hungry Clam. 

For a change I gave Anne the camera so I could be in a food picture at the Hungy Clam.

From there it was only about 20 miles to the Crescent City Redwoods KOA, our digs for the next two nights. This was our first back-in camp site and I managed to put Morse on the spot the first try. 

Lewis and Morse at our Crescent City KOA campsite.

Again we were very pleased with the KOA campgrounds.

Day Four of our trip began with a breakfast of fried leftovers and peaches, strange but filling. 

Driving Lewis and traveling without Morse we visited Battery Point Lighthouse in Crescent City. This lighthouse is on a tidal island and in the morning the lighthouse was cut off by the sea. In the afternoon when we returned the lighthouse was accessible. 

We did notice that four or five families or couples seemed to be camped out in the lighthouse parking lot. With their vans, pickups, and large SUVs stuffed with belongings, I don’t know whether to call them homeless or modern gypsies—they didn’t make the parking area feel very safe. From the lighthouse we drove down Hwy 101 through Redwoods National Park, with stops for photos along the way, 

to Prairie Creek State Park and Fern Canyon. It’s an eight mile one lane barely-improved road to get to Fern Canyon, 

One of three creek crossings on the way to Fern Canyon.

but the half hour—that’s right, half an hour for eight miles—drive is worth it. The 3/4 mile round trip hike through Fern Canyon is a lovely walk. 

On the way back to Crescent City we made the obligatory photo stop at Trees of Mystery to say “Hi” to Paul Bunyan and Babe the Blue Ox. 

Dinner at The Fisherman’s Restaurant was the weakest meal of the trip.

The next two days were just driving days highlighted by a lovely but tough narrow drive along the Smith River from Crescent City to Grants Pass. 

Again, there were no places to pull a truck and trailer off for photos. At Canyonville a little north of Grants Pass we stayed at the Seven Feathers RV Resort and Casino. This is a luxury Good Sam campground with all the amenities. 

Our luxury suite in Canyonville.

Two things impressed us here: first, the camp was loud with partying until the quiet hour of 10PM, then it was quiet as a forest night; and second, our Liberty Outdoors Mini Max (Morse) was the smallest rig in the campgrounds and was absolutely dwarfed by the huge rig (fifth-wheeler with six popouts) that parked next to us. Our last day was an uneventful 3 1/2 hour freeway drive home.

     What did we learn from our RV road trip?

—We can solve small problems better than we thought we could.

—The two of us can maneuver fairly well in cramped quarters.

—YouTube videos have definitely been an aid.

—We can’t pull the trailer and stop wherever we want, thus...

—We need to change our travel strategy (especially for photography). Instead of trying to see things on the way, we need to plan to get to a spot where we will stay a day or two, unhook, and then take the truck to get the photos we want.

—And even Anne says she packed too much (we could have fed the whole south Oregon coast for a week with what we had in Lewis and Morse).

NEXT: Santa Fe, Toas, Durango, Canyon de Chelly, and Petrified Forest.

   

To Vegas and Beyond

Travel Isn’t Always as Easy as It Should Be!

4:45 AM heading to the airport for a 7:00 flight to Las Vegas. Notice the prominent bag with two sets of clubs in it.

Leaving Portland and...

Arriving in Las Vegas.

We plan and plan and prepare and over prepare, but there are times when things just don’t go the way we plan or prepare for. The latest trip to Las Vegas proves the point. We usually take a Vegas trip in early February to get out of the cold and wet of Oregon’s winter, to play some golf, see some sights, and, yes, play the machines. We know we might face a little inclement weather at that time of year, but overall it’s a good time to visit the area. This year we planned a nine day trip with three days in St George, Utah, and Zion National Park. That plan, though, was only one of the things that went wrong.

One of the two courses we played was the Revere Concord Course. Sunny day, but at 41º with 18 mile an hour wind the wind chill was 21º--that's COLD golf.

To start, we discovered soon that we had forgotten important items, and considering how organized Anne is, this was really unusual. First, I forgot my heart rate monitor. I knew that I could always buy another one at any pharmacy for under $50, but it would still be an inconvenience. Luckily, I never needed to buy one. Anne discovered she forgot her Tide Stick (spot remover) the first time I splattered spaghetti sauce on my shirt. We found shortly that we had also left a folder of maps on the table at home and our travel binoculars in the drawer.  All these items are normal for our travel equipment and it was disconcerting to not have them. 

Next, I lost my new Tilley hat, the one Anne got me for Christmas in Canada. 

Me at Badwater wearing the hat that was lost and found.

One morning in our timeshare unit I went to put the hat on and it wasn’t there. It wasn’t in the car either. We backtracked where I might have left it the day before and came up with two possibilities. The first, Starbucks, where we’d stop to write after golf, didn’t have the hat. The Oyster Bar in Orleans Casino, where we’d had dinner that night, did. Bad to lose it; good to find it. It was interesting that the hat had my name and cell phone number printed clearly in the top, but they had never called—I personally believe someone at the restaurant was hoping nobody would ever ask for it, but then I’m very partial to the hat.

The next major consternation was the changeable weather. We were worried about our new travel trailer left at home to face weather for which it hadn’t been prepared. We were having a mild winter in Oregon and so thought the trailer would be fine, but as soon as we got to Vegas we started hearing stories about snow and low temperatures in the Portland area. 

Zabriskie Point

Two images of Salt Creek. It was an easy walk to here.

The forecasts kept changing—better to worst to better to really terrible. Along with that pressure came the realization that our plans to spend three days in St George and Zion needed to be reconsidered. We were going to St George for golf, but it was raining/snowing and Zion was out of the question with temperatures of 9º at night and 25º during the day—we weren’t prepared for those kind of conditions. Again we had some good luck.

Mom's Diner in Pahrump is a great place for breakfast or lunch about half way to Death Valley from Vegas.

Anne at our room in Stovepipe Wells.

I was able to book one of the last two rooms available for two nights at the Stovepipe Wells Hotel in Death Valley where the temperature would be in the 60s during the day and only near freezing at night. It cost us to lose our lodging in St George, but at least we’d have plenty to do in Death Valley including golf.

Our last major problem one we always try to avoid, but accidents do happen. In Death Valley Junction I was photographing around the Amargosa Opera House when I stepped off a sidewalk and slipped on a spot of clay mud. After two stumbling steps trying to catch myself I crashed to the ground trying to protect my camera and my face from the gravel. 

Amargosa Opera House in Deatrh Valley Junction. It's here where the accident happened.

I tried to get up but my right leg gave way under me and crashed down again. Not having learned my lesson, I tried to get up again with the same crashing results. Anne was blissfully across the road a hundred yards away and looking the wrong way. To my rescue came two guys—one a local and the other a passing motor coach driver—who had seen my plight. Heroes that they were they helped me to my feet, helped scrape mud off me, made sure I was lucid and not dizzy, and got my assurances that I ways able to get around. They really, really were there when I needed them. Thank you so much! Anne walked me to the car where I could assess the damages and clean my camera and glasses. At that point, except for a sore knee and elbow, a few scrapes and scratches, and a bruised ego, everything seemed fine (or at least okay). 

The view on Northshore Drive on Lake Mead. We're on our way to Valley of Fire State Park.

In Valley of Fire one of our stops was the CCC cabins. A panel of petroglyphs is above the cabins.

The rest of the day we limited hikes to very short ones and moved rather slowly. It was really the next day that I realized I was done with golf for this trip, and though I could drive, getting out of the car and moving about was going to be in super slow motion for a while. 

A week on from the fall I still move carefully and my elbow is completely black and blue, but it seems that I did no permanent damage (except to that damned ego which is getting used being slapped around).

One day we spent a fall morning driving and hiking (at a slow walk with a walking stick) around Red Rocks Canyon National conservation Area---at least until it started snowing, then we headed to the casino.

This was the first time we've seen wild burros in the park.

Even though we hoped (like always) the Vegas trip would be easy, trouble free, and fun, it wasn’t. It was, though, manageable, interesting, and fun—and I hope the photos that I’ve includes will show that it was a beautiful trip, as well.

Trailer Update

Why would I expect that getting into the travel trailer lifestyle would be easy. Is it because I never learn? The first thing I learned is that tongue weight is important and that a Subaru Outback with a tow package still won’t safely pull the Mini Max we bought—even though the trailer dealer (R Young RVs in Milwaukie) said it would with no problem. Tongue weight capacity for the Subaru is 200 lbs. and the tongue weight of the trailer is 280 lbs. So, where to next? Sell the trailer and give it up, sell the Subaru (which we really love) or…Yes, we bought a truck capable of pulling the Mini Max—my super special Lamborghini orange 2007 VW Fahrenheit GTI with only 47,000 miles on it is on the market. 

My lovingly cared for GTI will be starting a new adventure as soon as we find a buyer.

We got a good deal on a 2017 Ford F150 with less than 4000 miles on it—owner bought it, died, and it took time to go through probate. 

Our new tow vehicle. It's been a long time since we've had a pickup--last one was an early 1990s Ford Ranger.

We’ve already put mats in it, a Line-X bed liner, and a new canopy is on order. The trailer dealer did help us switch the electric braking system from the Subaru to the F150 without charge. With our other travels, the weather, and getting everything set up, we still haven’t used it. That means there’re more stories to come.