Where the Warm Wind Blows

 

Greetings from Casey’s Riverside RV Park in stunningly gorgeous Westfir, Oregon.  A planned one-night stop for laundry turned into a two night stop for fun. 

Lessons learned so far:

1)  You probably aren’t going to be able to hike above the tree line if people are still skiing in the resorts.  (Hello?  Why is this a lesson?  What was I thinking?)

2)  Partial shade and partial sun and nights below freezing are the trifecta of conditions leading to your batteries only lasting three nights in one place.  (And yes, I could have just plugged Beagle into Wurzig and run the engine but that would be dangerously close to using a generator—something I cannot stand to hear in a campground.)

3)  Cell service matters greatly in the shoulder season:  Between road conditions and needing to find alternate places to stay, having access to the internet is vital.

Now back to the regular program.

Here’s the thing about me and Wind:  I can’t stand it.  Well, most of it; I do enjoy a warm, caressing island breeze particularly at night, nothing better than that, but for the most part the rest of Earth’s breath I would rather not feel.  So, despite being all alone next to Eagle Lake in Northern California, 

where I should have been living the camper’s dream, the wind had me trying to scamper away as quickly as possible.  But not without leaving a lasting impression.

I have rituals while camping that keep me sane and, more importantly, breathing easily which is hard to do when you are allergic to dust and your little white dog who sheds like nobody’s business:  Every morning I shake out the bedding and hang it on the door while I vacuum out Beagle and the dog beds. 

My morning at Eagle Lake was no different; I had the back door open on Beagle and upon the front door hung my down comforter.  But not for long:  The wind, which had been a constant cold companion for twelve hours, burst into hyper mode and Swoosh!  Away flew my comforter!  And Swoosh!  The wind whipped right through Beagle’s two doors, pulling River’s bed out the back. 

Yep, all into the dirt.

This was the first time I thought that I might need a spa appointment.  

The second time was when I had learned from the Ranger’s office that I would not be able to reach my campground in the Three Sisters Wilderness due to snow closures.

The third was the morning I made the appointment.

I found the lady via the Yonka website, a brand of cleansers and lotions that I have been using for over twenty years, she was practicing in Bend—where I was headed instead of Cougar Crossing.  I thought if nothing else, I could stock up on supplies but booked an appointment for a full facial.  It was raining and cold and I needed a treat.

And here’s the thing about me and Facials:  I rarely let anyone give me one except for Ollga in Seattle.  I have tried other places and have been disappointed.  But I knew I was in for a treat when I was led into the warm, inviting therapy room, asked to put on a terry cloth wrap (engineered to leave your shoulders and chest bare so they can massage them while the masks are working their magic on your face) and climb into the heated bed.

Ahh. 

A little small talk ensued to get us both comfortable, I quickly discovered that, despite looking like a city lady, she was as much of a camper as myself.

              “Where have you camped so far?” she asked.

              “Bass Lake, Lopez Lake, Reno for laundry and repairs, Eagle Lake.  I was supposed to camp at Scott Creek but when my navigation system suggested a turn onto a dirt road for six miles with a snow storm moving it, I headed down to La Pine State Park instead—which I found wonderful.”

              “La Pine is great but you have to watch out for cougars.”

This actually made me laugh out loud—not an easy thing when someone is massaging your face.

     “Opus and I enjoyed a six-mile hike there during which I actually said to myself, ‘It’s so nice not to have to worry about cougars.’”

After that not much was said.  I enjoyed the feeling of potions being applied to my skin, listening to the expensive jars of face cream being opened and closed and then…then…could it be?  The boiling hiss of the warm mist machine!  First introduced to me by Ollga, it is a device that heats up water (scented with Yonka’s spray lotion, of course) and then puffs it across your face much like a warm, caressing island breeze.  I was a million miles away walking along a beach, my feet in the sand and nothing but warmth surrounding me.

Then all too soon, it was over.  My skin was radiant; I felt like a new person.

The weather continued to be a challenge with only partially sunny skies and below freezing nights but Opus and I managed to get in one great hike, almost seven miles up Tumalo Creek.  The day was mostly sunny and we were both feeling so great that I let Opus run free--until I saw the cougar prints in the snow.

And here’s the thing about me and Fate:  If you believe in Fate life becomes very simple.  You see a cougar print and you think, “Well, if it is my fate to be mauled to death by a cougar, I can’t imagine a more scenic spot than this.”  It was indeed gorgeous.

With no electric sites available at Tumalo State Park, the partial sun and partial shade of my pitch not allowing for much solar generation, and Beagle’s batteries at 32%, it was time to hitch her up.  And if I was going to hitch her up, I was going to see something new.  So we left Bend a day early and headed south.

What?

Yes, it felt very odd on my Northwest Tour to be heading south, but I still wanted to visit Westfir, the town just below my original camping spot of Cougar Crossing (the name of which, by now, was taking on a whole new meaning.)  So 97 South to 58 West and what a gorgeous drive that is!  Definitely an area that will need further exploration.  Odell Lake, Waldo Lake, high mountain passes, rushing rivers below and plenty of Snow Parks to pull into and take some time to enjoy it all.  I cannot wait to return in the Fall.

Today Opus and hiked up into the snow again, it’s our last mountain adventure until we reach either the Sawtooth Range in Idaho or the Wind River Range in Wyoming.  So we soaked it all in.

Hard to believe tomorrow we will be at sea level--and enjoying some of the most beautiful coastline imaginable.  Oregon is one magical place.

-K

Why You Should Always Put on Sunscreen

 

There was no use in putting on sunscreen this morning, I was packing up in the rain and heading toward more.  Normally I wear it every day but given my travel plans I figured I’d let my skin breathe a bit.

Five minutes later, with Beagle in tow, I was at the Valero station on the corner putting air in Wurzig’s left rear tire.  We had driven about one-hundred yards when the tire pressure monitoring system warned me, in no uncertain terms, that the tire was at 15 PSI.  That is so far from 44 PSI I thought the system was failing. 

But it wasn’t. 

While filling the tire I saw the culprit:  A nice shiny nail embedded in the tread.  The tire seemed to be holding air so my first thought was to get Beagle somewhere safe.  We drove the one-hundred yards back to the River West RV Park, asked for another night and were given that plus directions to a “nice guy at the 76 station” who repairs tires.

With Beagle unhitched and the tire still holding enough air, I cancelled my previous navigation to Starbucks and replaced it with directions to the 76 station.  A young fellow gave Wurzig a long look and me a short one before looking at the tire, and said,

“Sorry, but this is one we cannot fix.  You will need a new tire.  Would you like me to print out an estimate?” 

“Sure”, I said, and “My god”, I thought, “Here we go again with Porsche tires, you need one you need four.”

He provided three estimates, two in a brand that Porsche would never recommend, the third coming in at over $2,000, I'm going to give him the benefit of the doubt and say that was for four tires.  But still, it was time for a second opinion.

I called The Reno Tire Pros, a name that inspired confidence, and they asked me to come on down so they could see it.  By now I was really missing my second cup of coffee so I took a minute for myself and drove through Starbucks.  Sitting in the line, I looked at the person behind me and thought, “She might be having an even more difficult morning than me”, so when I reached the window, I bought her order too.  Random acts of kindness.

Over at The Reno Tire Pros, they were quite sure they could fix the tire but mentioned it might take an hour or two as they had other appointments ahead of me.  Completely understandable, I was just thrilled they could see me the same day.  They welcomed me into the waiting room, Noses and all, and we settled in.

Fifteen minutes later, Wurzig was back out front all fixed and ready to go.  Random acts of kindness.

Now, technically, I could have still hitched up Beagle and easily made it to Eagle Lake as planned.  But I had really had enough—too much stress and not enough exercise so I decided to hit a local trail.  What a great decision that was!  Six miles of crunching dirt, open valleys, wet pine trees, and the best trail dog ever:  At one point, we had to walk along a fallen tree to cross a river so I unleashed Opus and climbed up.  He struggled to find a way up but eventually made it, passed right by me, crossed the river like an Olympic gymnast on the balance beam, hopped down on the other side, turned around and waited for me.

It was a fantastic hike, a mere fifteen minutes away from downtown Reno.  During the hike we had sunshine, rain, sleet, snow flurries and more sunshine.  And, of course, me without sunscreen.

-K

Find, Fix, Test, Repeat

 

Greetings from the River West RV Park in Reno, Nevada, yes, we got out of Oakhurst!  And as a bonus, gas is a full $2.00/gallon less expensive here.

When last we met, I was heading into my appointment at The Rusty Piston to have them look at my “ping”.  I won’t go into all the details, suffice it to say it was very difficult to nail down and I ended up with three repaired wires, two new trailer brakes, one new brake controller and two new friends.

I worked closely with the garage manager and lead mechanic (who was also the owner.)  We developed a respect for each other’s intelligence and discovered that we shared two beliefs:  That everything happens for a reason and, most important of all, that life requires a sense of humor.

However, after three times of finding and fixing an issue only to have the ping return during a test, we all had a moment when we lost our sense of humor.  We decided to call it a night; I climbed into Beagle and slept in their parking lot.  (I did alleviate some of my frustration with a pint of local beer down the street and some really good fish tacos.)

All three of us did research overnight and by morning we had all reached the same conclusion:  New trailer brakes.  Since the guys were going to be busy installing the brakes and a new controller, they suggested a hike for Opus and me (thank god) that started just across the highway and rambled up what was the old road to Yosemite.  It was beautiful and peaceful back there with green rolling hills and oak trees; it was just what we needed. 

The work wasn’t completed until 4:00 and then the owner and I started driving Wurzig & The Beagle to burnish the new brakes and set up the controller.  It took forty-five minutes for the brakes to set but it was a treat for me—I was a passenger for once!  

Driving away at 5:30 I knew I wasn’t going far so I headed back to Bass Lake (twelve miles) and searched out a first-come site.  My favorites were all taken or reserved so I tried a new loop and found an absolutely dreamy spot:  #113 is a long back-in spot, surrounded by trees and, get this, you cannot see another trailer from any side!  (Nor can you see the lake but that was ok with me.)  It was tucked back and private; just what I needed after two days with a bunch of mechanics and a night in a parking lot. 

To top it off, I didn’t have to level side to side or front to back so no disconnecting.  That is a treat.  I backed in, put down the stabilizers, walked the dogs, made some dinner and what?  Oh my god, rookie mistake, I forgot to look at my tanks before returning to camp and I did not have enough water for a shower.  It is rare that I don’t have a shower at night—I even had one in the parking lot!  Ahh well.

Opus and I put in a good four miles in the morning; we got the blood pumping and the sweat flowing which felt wonderful but made me miss a shower even more.  A quick sponge bath and a washing of my hair in the sink was all I could do.

An hour later, with freshened tanks, we hit the road to cross the Sierra’s.  My favorite route, Highway 108 over Sonora Pass was closed as was Highway 4, due to the impending snow storm.  (Shoulder season camping has its issues.)  So we traveled Highway 88 climbing up through rain then sleet and into the snow. 

I had just passed one of those “road closed” gates (still open obviously) when the snow began to stick to the road and the temperature dropped below freezing.  Visibility was poor, low clouds and tons of snow, and I was about to turn around when I remembered to look at the cars coming toward me:  If they had snow on them then for sure it was trouble ahead, but if they were just wet, I could keep going.

They were just wet.

We kept going.

It was slow going but we made it.  Once I saw the other “road closed” gate (again, obviously still open), I knew we were headed down and started to enjoy the drive.  The sky opened up a bit, some blue showing through, so I stopped at a Snow Park parking lot and let the dogs race around for a bit.  The wind was furious and it was still below freezing so we didn’t last long.

You can bet the first thing I did once we stopped for the night at Topaz Lake was to heat up the water and take a nice, longish, hot shower before returning to the view out Beagle’s front window:

And tonight we sit in an RV park, not our favorite thing, but laundry is done, Wurzig & The Beagle are cleaned up and we have a fresh round of groceries.  Heading north tomorrow into what looks like a bunch of rain.  Interesting.

-K

The Disparity in Ping Duration

 

My first thought Saturday morning was, “I get to leave on my epic Beagle trip tomorrow!”, and my second thought was, “Why not leave today?”

It felt like I had been preparing for this departure for weeks, after all, planning to be gone for over two months takes some preparation. But when I realized that all I had left to do was to unplug my refrigerator, turn off my water heater, and pack some clothes and food into Beagle, I figured I could be gone in about three hours.

And did that light up my day!  I set about my tasks thinking about my trip, how much fun it will be to discover new (to me) mountains and see old (to me) friends and (hopefully) even make my way back to my homeland (come on Canada, let me back in!)  Then I reminded myself that the trip would also have its obstacles; all trips do.  So I coached myself that mostly what I needed to bring along was my sense of humor. 

And that was tested a mere hour later.

After shutting down my house and packing up Beagle, it was time to hitch her up.  Imagine my dismay when, during my last step of plugging in my brake controller, it did not register Beagle’s presence.  Usually it will display, “connected” or “not connected” or some series of numbers indicating the amount of brake pressure Wurzig is sending to Beagle.  But I had nothing. 

I went through my normal tech support; turn everything off, turn everything back on, try again.  (Back in my computer support days, we would charge $37.50 for that advice.)  But, unlike my computer support days, this did not work.  I called one mobile RV person and received their voice mail.  I drove to a local RV park and asked if there was someone who might be able to help.  They provided a number for a second mobile RV person.  Not only was he readily available, he could meet me in an hour.

OK Kit, just write this next part even though it makes you look really unintelligent.

It took him about three minutes to diagnose my issue:  The part of the controller that plugs into my cigarette lighter was missing its top and out of that top had fallen the fuse.  We eventually located all the missing parts, reassembled the unit, plugged it in and were rewarded with “connected.”  My first of two interactions with an RV repairman in two days, but I am getting ahead of myself.

The dogs and I were on our way! 

And yes, River is aboard.  She is still doing her dog business at appropriate moments and still such a warm and comforting companion, I am happy to have her along.  Opus has no comment.

At that point, my ETA into Bass Lake was after five; a rookie mistake when you are hoping to grab a first-come site on a sunny, warm Saturday next to a California lake.  But the Kitness was alive and well!

Having learned to take the long way to Bass Lake rather than the back-roads recommended by Google, I ended up reaching my favorite campground first and was surprised to see them open.  I was warmly greeted by the camp host who remembered me from last year (one of the many benefits of The Beagle—she does make a lasting impression on most people.)   I was welcomed to select any open spot so I chose the one pictured above—who wouldn’t?

After an intense leveling job, a short walk with two noses and a longer one with one, we settled into Beagle around eight o’clock.  And that’s when I first heard the “Thunk/Ping!”  The campground was near full so I thought it was someone playing cornhole, I should have paid closer attention to the ping portion. 

Darkness arrived, people settled down around their fires and the “ping!” continued.  It was on the left side of Beagle.  I grabbed a flashlight and went outside.  The sound was definitely coming from somewhere behind Beagle’s wheel.  “Ping!”…“Ping!”  every four seconds or so, sounding louder now that the campground had quieted.

My fellow Basecampers know that all of Beagle’s systems are located near that wheel well, so my first thought was something was wrong with my water pump or heater.  I went back inside, moved Opus & River to one side of the bed (it being after 9:30 PM, they were intent on sleeping) stacked the remaining cushions in the kitchen and opened up the service compartment.  But the noise sounded further away; it had to be something with my wheel or brakes.  Nothing more to do that night but at least I was rewarded with some lovely stars:

Eventually I fell asleep to the rhythmic ping, woke somewhere in the night and realized it had stopped.  But it had been pinging for at least six hours.

The next day I had to move to my reserved spot about two miles down the road but not until noon.  So Opus and I spent the morning hiking Goat Trail, a delightful trail that beings right from Forks Campground.  The sun was shining, the wild flowers were blooming and we were jumping for joy at our good fortune.

But, after the short drive to the new campground, the ping was back.  On the bright side, it did not sound as loud and stopped within an hour of being parked.  This led me to believe it had something to do with metal getting too hot when I drove.  The ping did sound a lot like metal cooling down and the long drive Saturday versus the short drive Sunday explained the disparity in ping duration.

At this point I had contacted everyone I knew who might be able to shed some light on the issue and determined that what I needed was someone local.  So back to an RV park for a recommendation.

The local mobile repairman didn’t actually visit, he listened to my video, gave his opinion that it was a wheel and/or brake issue (something he did not work on) and recommended a mechanic about ten miles away in Oakhurst.

I knew three things at that point:  (1) It was a gorgeous, sunny, warm Sunday; (2) It was due to rain all day on Monday; and (3) the garage wasn’t open.  All of which led me to take Opus on another hike, this time up Angel Falls.

Today, Monday, bright and early I drove to The Rusty Piston—some things are better explained in person and I figured this was one of them.  I left Beagle at camp since I didn’t want to tow her through town unless I knew someone was going to be able to help me. 

The guys inspired confidence with their busy, efficient, multi-bay garage and friendly owner who, after hearing my story, listening to my video, and learning that I was hoping to leave town on Wednesday, booked me an appointment for tomorrow.

After breakfast and coffee in town I drove through the rain up to the snowline with the dogs and let them race around for a bit.  Now we are tucked back in Beagle, warm and toasty, the rain is coming down (should end tonight), and feeling very fortunate to have my lithium batteries.

Stay tuned!

-K