We made an honest effort to find fall color at Mount Lassen and Plumas County.  There are few deciduous trees and so not much color. We reached the visitor center at the southern end of the park and found out that we could stay in their parking lot for the night. It’s so quiet there right now that it was very pleasant. And we finally got a clear night with almost no ambient light. The stars were spectacular. We looked for meteors – the Leonid meteor shower occurred the night before – but I only saw one.

We headed to Plumas County with high hopes. Of all the northern counties, Plumas is the one with an active, updated website on fall foliage. “Yellow” they said. “Yellow, yellow, yellow.” I was a willing believer. Mais non! Okay, there was yellow here and there. But not brilliant yellow, not yellow you jump out of the car to photograph. We drove around for 2 days and found little yellow that excited us. So, we caught up with John Petrin, who lives in the area during the summer months, and who didn’t have to treat us to a great dinner at the Grizzly Grill, but did. Thanks, John. Sorry we missed you, Sandy.

The next day we headed seriously southeast to Bridgeport. We’re back in Eastern California. Hurray!! It feels good to see high desert country again, where the trees are on the mountains instead of all around you. The foliage reports on Eastern California said the trees were getting past prime, but were still looking good. The trees in Reno and Carson City certainly looked good. So we arrived in Bridgeport with high hopes. We drove a short distance to Twin Lakes after we established camp. There were some very nice trees on the water and there were deer all over the place. We meandered onto a gravel road to return to Highway 395; there are lots of unpaved roads in Eastern California.

The foliage we’ve seen so far has been good. Some areas are looking pretty good; others are totally blown, with all the leaves on the ground. I like the trees that still have a few leaves clinging to the tiptop of the tree. The good thing about photographing in high desert country is that the groves of aspen trees are mostly isolated, with other types of trees not interfering with them. When you get a distance from them, they stand out in the landscape. We found a great streamside area with lots of trees, ice in the water and a picturesque old cabin. But it was very chilly. One campsite neighbor told us it got down to twelve degrees on Tuesday night. Yikes!

On Wednesday we got up early and drove south towards Conway Summit but were distracted by a neat looking aspen grove about a third-mile off of Highway 395. Dave found a dirt track going down there and we found a wonderful small stream surrounded by aspens. The aspen leaves and ice in the stream held our attention. A little investigating also turned up an abandoned cabin. It was chilly in the shadows, but we stayed for about an hour.

On Thursday, we changed locations to the remote parking lot at Panum Crater, near Mono Lake. From there, we get a spectacular view of the night stars as well as first light on the Sierra Nevada peaks in the area. That afternoon, we visited Lundy Canyon, with lots of colorful trees surrounding Lundy Lake and the stream that runs from it. I was scuffing around in the fallen leaves, when I noticed the wonderful patterns on them. Each one was different. It was a beautiful afternoon.

The next morning, it was off to the June Lake Loop, a nice 15-mile circle around several lakes. The weather was again beautiful and many trees were hanging on to their leaves.

On the way back to Panum Crater, we stopped at the junction of Highways 395 and 120. Since the 1970’s, at least, there has always been a prospector’s grave there. For years, it was a pair of boots sticking out of the dirt with a wooden sign for the Unknown Prospector. I always thought it was a joke, Apparently not.

After a refreshing nap, we headed back to Lundy Canyon, and found some nice subject matter. And then, to Whoa Nellie Deli for a great dinner. The Deli is in the Lee Vining Mobil gas station, and, Oh My, they make good food. I had Lobster Taquitos and Dave nabbed the last order of Rack of Lamb. Along with a $13 bottle of decent red, we watched the light go down over Mono Lake and watched the Cardinals win the World Series. Yay!!

Our final picturesque drive was over the Sierra Nevada through Yosemite. There wasn’t much snow, but we did find some ice.

After a quiet night of camping at the Mariposa Fairgrounds, we drove to Merced to visit Jeff and Betty Denno. After a wonderful brunch and some catchup, the guys settled down to watch the 49ers play Cleveland. Betty and I went to the Vista Ranch Pumpkin Pit, an area that provides loads of pumpkins and other autumn vegies, a corn maze, hay rides and a long amble through flowered byways. When we got back, we drove over to the Merced Wildlife Refuge. After finding a location with Sandhill Cranes, Redwing Blackbirds, Egrets, Ibis and various other avian life, we settled down with wine, crackers, cheese and pickled carrots to watch birds standing, walking, calling, roosting and flying. It was an amazing finale to our trip.

We made it home today. It’s been a great trip, but we are looking forward to seeing friends and family.

We walked up the Story in Stone Trail, enjoying gorgeous turquoise formations. We also went up the Island in Time Trail, that included some replicas of the fossils found at that point. As we made our way, I heard a weird, gurgling sound that seemed to be coming from the hills around us. Dave said “No, it’s cranes”. We didn’t see any cranes and it seemed very unlikely to me that they were the cause of the sounds. When we returned down to the same point, we heard the noise again. “Look up” said Dave, and there, far, far up in the sky was a very large “V” of cranes. It’s so hard to believe they were overhead at the same point we went up and came down the trail, but there it is.

We regretfully left the pretty campground and headed west to get closer to another unit of the John Day Fossil Beds Monument – the Painted Hills Unit. This area has been pointed out in Outdoor Photographer as a prime spot and indeed it was. The hills are russet, olive and sage green, sepia, burgundy, pumpkin orange. Some of the areas looked like sliced kiwi fruit. From a distance, they had the texture of velvet or our old brown sofa. Close up, they made great abstracts and reminded me of some of Georgia O’Keeffe’s paintings. After a while, the sun came out (finally!) and the light got better. It’s grandeur made Artist’s Palette in Death Valley look like a sad little (and difficult to photograph) collection of colored rocks. It is so much fun to find a new, spectacular area.

On Monday, we drove a short way to the outskirts of Bend, Oregon. Once again, we lucked out and found Tumalo State Park, a very pretty campground with hookups. A warm afternoon allowed us to snack on tortillas broiled with butter, cheddar and smoked almonds. Eat ‘em up, yum! And we relished our last bottle of lemoncello, toasting the generosity of Jeff and Betty, the donors of the yellow ambrosia. As we watched life in the campground, we heard crinkling plastic and I saw what I thought was a bag being blown by the wind. But there was no wind. Instead, it was a chipmunk, dragging off its booty, a bag of peanut brittle, from a nearby campsite. He must have experienced a sugar high; it was half a package. After a dinner of soup, we had our second campfire of the trip. Dave builds a good fire and we pondered it for an hour or two.

The next morning we drove into the Cascade Range, looking for fall foliage. Initially, we were disappointed by the evergreen forest surrounding us. We got out of the car to see the Dee Wright Observatory and immediately froze our tookuses. But oh what a view – mountains all around us – the Sisters, Mt. Washington and way far off, the teeny-tiny tip of Mt. Hood. The Observatory was built by the CCC in the 30’s, from the material at hand – lava. It’s pretty amazing. But the cold and wind got to us quickly and we returned to the warmth of the car.

As soon as we starting descending from that summit, the deciduous trees and undergrowth began to show color. We stopped a few times, but it was the trail to Proxy Falls that was fun to photograph.

We continued on our loop drive and found Sahalie Falls, a surprisingly voluminous waterfall with a roiling river boiling down from the bottom of the falls. I never get tired of looking at water.

After a day of chores, we took off on another drive, looking for colorful fall foliage. But we were on a lake drive with a lot of lakes surrounded by evergreens. So we did my fallback plan: visit Newberry National Volcanic Monument. After viewing a waterfall and a few more lakes, we walked the Obsidian Flow Trail. We’ve climbed around obsidian rock piles at the Mono Craters, but this walk had so much more obsidian. I love obsidian (It’s shiny! You can see your face in it, sometimes.) We spent about an hour on the half-mile path. So the day wasn’t a waste, photographically.

And so, that’s it for Oregon. We’re heading back to California and see how the autumn colors are doing there.

On Friday, we drove down to Portland for our “day away” from the RV life. Oh boy – a motel! After carrying in our pillowcases that contained our personal items (we don’t have room for luggage in the motorhome), we spread out and relaxed. Then we attended the NewSpace gallery opening. Dave has a print in the new show, and it’s rare that we get to see the shows that he is part of. We were disappointed to miss out meeting some friends from the recent Lazy Daze get-together. They came to the gallery, but somehow we missed each other. After that, we went to dinner at Denicolas, an Italian restaurant that had absolutely enormous portions of good food (Eggplant Parmesan) and many enormous people eating there.

We got a break from the rain the next day so we decided to reprise a drive down the Columbia Gorge. We drove the 14 miles up a side road to Larch Mountain. We thought it was clear enough to get some good views. Not all the mountains were “out” but it was pretty spectacular anyway. After that, we didn’t stop until Multnomah Lodge, where we had a very pleasant lunch. We crossed the river from Oregon to Washington at Cascade Locks and found many more views of the Columbia River from the north side. We stopped at the Cape Horn lookout and enjoyed the beautiful light on the water.

Sunday was supposed to be a fairly nice day, so we decided to go over the mountains, east to Yakima. There was some spritzing, but we made it easily over the 4,500-foot White Pass, and coasted downhill. Dave was driving when I yelled “Pull over now!” It was Mt. Rainier, poking through the clouds. This mountain, viewable from half of Washington, was visible to us for the second time on our trip.

After noting the lack of fall foliage on Highway 12 and looking at the weather week ahead, we finally gave up any plans to drive into the Cascades. We drove to the southeast Palouse section of Washington state, marveling at the rolling hills. Unfortunately, it’s not easy to pull off on the side of road with the motorhome and the weather was uniformly cloudy and gray. We had some trouble finding a place to stay; the tourist season is over and Colfax, the town we want to center in, didn’t seem to have an open RV park. We finally nested outside of town in the county fairgrounds. They were just turning the water off, so we got a good deal ($10 per night). After hooking up, we set off on a short reconnaissance trip. The terrain looked wonderful, in varying shades of gold, tan, green and dirt. The Palouse is about wheat, everywhere. It is amazing how much of the land is planted with wheat.

The next day, we went for a drive. In this rural area, there are interstates, highways, roads and dirt tracks. It’s easy to get off the main drag and the unfenced fields go right to the edge of the road. Although the country is composed of rolling hills, dry farming allows almost everything to be plowed and planted: hills, gullies, up, down, over and out. There are little unplowed islands, mostly containing trees or buildings, but some are inexplicably left untouched.  The result is the opposite of a neat patchwork of squares; it’s farmland on acid. Our primary destination was Steptoe Butte State Park, a high point with a 360-degree view overlooking the Palouse. The road ascended, circling the butte, going higher and higher. It was surreal, mindblowing. The wind was blowing hard and the clouds were flying, causing an amazing light and shadow dance across the land. Wow!

We also visited the foremost landmark in Colfax – the Codger Pole, a chainsaw-carved monument that commemorates a football game rematch, 50 years after the original 1938 game. It’s 65 feet tall, it consists of portraits, carved into five upended red cedar logs, of the 51 players involved. The players are shown in old age but are wearing the football uniforms of the thirties. One of them is looking rather suspiciously at another codger, Dave.

The next morning we rose at 6 a.m. and went back to Steptoe Butte for dawn. It was extremely cold and windy, but we persevered in the name of art. At first I thought that dust was flying by us, but it was icy mist. I stayed outside the car to photograph as much as I could but the cold killed my ambition after a while. It was totally amazing to just look out the window at the light on the landscape. It is one of the most impressive viewpoints I have ever seen. We stopped for coffee and warmth in the small town of Rosalia, then moved on. We drove around 100 miles with lots of stops and we were both exhausted when we got back to the motorhome. We gave up on the idea of an afternoon trip.

Today we did another drive. Each little side road offers new vistas; it’s really fun driving around here.

We planned to move south to the town of Pullman, but can only stay for one night. Tomorrow the UW Cougars (Go Cougs!) play Stanford and the RV park is totally full tomorrow with people driving in to attend the game. We spoke with one guy who stayed in the RV park for half a day just so he would be early in the line to overnight with his motorhome in the stadium parking lot. I bet they do good tailgates there! We were going to do another little drive in the afternoon, but the light is lousy. It’s supposed to rain tomorrow, so we may say farewell to the Palouse and move on to Walla Walla.

On Tuesday, we drove into Tacoma to visit the Museum of Glass. We found out that it is closed on Tuesdays (I didn’t read the AAA Tour Guide carefully enough) and returned to Gig Harbor disgruntled, though a pleasant lunch at the harbor improved my mood. Wednesday, we tried again and gained access to the really neat Museum of Glass, with galleries displaying a diversity of glass art. One installation titled “Glimmering Gone” by Ingalena Klenell and Beth Lipman, was amazing. Part of it was composed of thin sheets of uncolored glass, hung in layers to compose a landscape with mountains, a waterfall, a river and trees. We weren’t allowed to photograph it, but I’ve never seen anything like it. To see some pictures of the exhibition (but no pictures capture the intricacy and delicacy of this installation), use this link: http://museumofglass.org/page.aspx?pid=386

The Museum also has The Hot Shop, a glass-working area. Resident and visiting artists work with molten glass while the audience watches from a gallery. The artists are so casual, in t-shirts and shorts, handling torches and molten glass, seemingly without care. (I’m sure that’s not true.) The incredible 90-foot tower, pictured below, contains the Hot Shop.

Afterwards, we checked out the adjacent Bridge of Glass, that connects the Museum of Glass, over train tracks and freeway, to the beautifully restored Union Station. The glassworks displayed there are all by Dale Chihuly, and though I think some of his work is florid and over the top, many of the separate pieces displayed here were quite beautiful.

We found Dave’s birthday dinner in the Murano Hotel, a modern hotel that incorporates glass artwork throughout. The centerpiece in the restaurant wasn’t any glass artwork – it was the view of Mt. Rainier, floating in the distance. All of the wind and rain had cleared the air so we could see the mountain clearly. It has an imposing bulk. Dave’s dessert was comped as a birthday present from the hotel.  After dinner, we revisited the Bridge of Glass in the dark and I took several pictures that indicate I wasn’t too steady with the camera.

We zoomed past Tacoma on Thursday, on our way to Redmond to visit Bev and Frank Seiter, some old friends who abandoned San Francisco many years ago. We spent a pleasant afternoon and evening, enjoying them and their backyard deck and Lulu, the very large cat. Frank still works (I guess somebody has to keep things running) and so we could only take Bev out for a late breakfast to a busy little Redmond diner. (The food just seems to keep coming.) On Friday we went north to Bothell and had fun in an Edmonds restaurant with my Uncle Stan and Cousin Kim and her boyfriend, Ed. Stan is doing great for being 90. (I missed his big birthday party earlier this year.)

We drove into Seattle proper on Saturday to check out the Photo Center Northwest, a good photographic gallery. We also visited the Frye Museum, but the part of their permanent collection we were interested in (Hopper, Wyeth, etc.) wasn’t up. Oh well. We then went over to Washington Park and walked through the various gardens and an Ikebana display. The weather is cloudy but is holding out, so far.

Sunday we changed RV parks to a cheaper, more convenient place with satellite reception. After all, the new season of Dexter was starting, and we wanted to see what the mass murderer was up to. After settling in, we took advantage of another not-quite-rainy day and drove down to the Space Needle. It wasn’t too crowded and the views were very good, although Mt. Rainier was hiding in the clouds. After relaxing over a coffee at the top of the needle, we dropped down and circled the Experience Music Project, a fantastic building. We’ll go inside on another day.

After enjoying the Olympic Sculpture Park by the water, we got back in the car just as the rain got serious. We experienced heavy rain for the 16-mile drive back, but we weren’t out in it, so we didn’t care.

We drove downtown again on Monday and the clouds never let loose on us. We walked around Pike Place Market and met an old friend, Mike Milne, for coffee at (where else in Seattle?) Starbucks. Mike, poor thing, is still working, so we comforted him as best we could and wandered off as he went back to work. The highlight of the afternoon was the Seattle Central Library. What a great building! We wandered around, inside and out, and clicked away. I love the fact that so many people still use the library (a lot of them are homeless with nowhere else to go). We decided that Pioneer Square wasn’t our favorite place, hiked back to Pike Place and then headed home to do the laundry.

Our final trip to Seattle was straight to the Experience Music Project. Paul Allen, co-founder of Microsoft, loves rock, and had enough money to build a monument to it. Frank Gehry designed the building, and we were entranced with the exterior. The interior is pretty cool as well.

We drove the short distance to Salt Creek Recreation area, described as a great place to camp by one of the Lazy Dazers. It is indeed, with a great view of the Strait of Juan de Fuca and perhaps Mt. Baker. There’s a little excitement at this campground. A couger has been sighted in the campground four times in the last two weeks. If I see it, I hope it is from inside the RV. Dave hooked up the television, but all we get here is Canadian TV with a few all-French stations. We got our first night of real rain Wednesday night and it was very nice to be snug in our waterproof (thanks to Dave) rig, listening to the pattering on the roof.

Thursday we drove west along the north end of the Olympic Peninsula To Clallum Bay. A local said that it was a good beach for finding beach glass, the bits of glass smoothed by the ocean. We had a good walk and found a lot of neat rocks and beach glass. I’ve started a collection that looks really good in my shoebox. It doesn’t equal Lucille Ball’s collection in “The Big Big Trailer” but it’s more portable and pretty.

We returned to Olympic National Park on Friday and walked the Hurricane Hill Trail, a short but steep trail that led to a point with spectacular views. The glaciers are receding and the clouds covered up Mt. Olympus, but we could clearly see Mt. Carrie and the Carrie Glacier. I was glad we weren’t hiking over there. As we went up the hill, we saw two very large birds that turned out to be Blue Grouse, browsing in the taiga-like meadow. They looked as big as turkeys! No wonder people want to eat them. We kept hearing a high-pitched whistle that we thought was a bird; it turned out to be two marmots, upset by how many people were nearby their spot on the rocks. The Visitor Center at Hurricane Ridge lived up to its name: the wind was roaring at the viewpoint there. But as we went up the hill, we alternated between heavy winds and sunny, humid areas. The clouds kept shifting and the light kept changing. It was a satisfying, easy hike.

We had planned to go into another mountainous section of the park, but the road was closed, so we decided to do the hike to the Sol Duc Waterfall. It was a longer drive west again and then we were back in the rain forest. The trail was very pretty but I wasn’t getting inspired for pictures. Three miles later, we reached what we thought was Sol Duc Falls (per a black-and-white picture in the hiking book). It was nice but not amazing, so we took our requisite pix and continued on the loop trail. Just as we were ready to start booking back, we found the real Sol Duc Falls. Wow!! Three roaring cataracts crashed down into a narrow chasm. There were great views from overlooks and from the bridge that crossed the Sol Duc River. After an hour there, we tired and were ready to trudge the 2.5 miles back to our car. Another great hike. On this trip, we’ve seen more of the coastline and rain forests and less of the mountains that we had hoped. We may have to return some time in the future to visit the areas we missed.

It was going to be a blustery, showery day, so we decided to go to Port Townsend, a harbor town with a lot of restored and not-so-restored Victorian houses. We had a nice lunch at a restaurant in an old brick building. The views of the harbor were interrupted by a sailboat that had dragged anchor and beached itself in behind the restaurant, with its mast leaning precipitously near the restaurant windows. The wait staff and customers kept going outside to check it out; the owners may not have known that their boat was way off course. We walked around town and enjoyed the hustle and bustle of the Port Townsend Film Festival, but the strong winds discouraged us and we returned to Sequim (pronounced “Squim”). Our last day on the Olympic Peninsula was done.

We scored a better, but not great campsite on Saturday morning. There were a few showers during the night, and we expected more as we drove the 40 miles to the Hoh Rain Forest, but the clouds kept their water to themselves. We were entranced with the Hoh River Trail right away. The trees were skirted and shawled with moss; there was luminescent orange fungi tucked away here and there. The light kept changing and the sun even broke through the clouds for minutes at a time. No rain or even showers. We started looking for banana slugs and found a couple as well as the invasive black slugs. A volunteer ranger told us that the black slugs are a quarter-of-an-inch faster than the banana slugs (over what distance, I don’t know) and that it adds up to an advantage over time. We hiked next to the Hoh River for a while. The quietness of the trails in this area is marvelous. It is rare to hear even an airplane once you’re hiking. We went 4 of the 17 miles until we reached the Cougar Cedar Grove (nice, but not spectacular), turned around and trudged back.

Sunday, we lurked around the campground as people pulled out, and scored the best beachside campsite we have ever found. Once installed, we reluctantly left it to return south on US-101 to Lake Quinault, another accessible temperate rain forest. The sky was again cloudy without rain. It had showered several times during the night, so the greenery was wet and sparkly. Perfect. This hike was only 3.5 miles and went through mossy trees once again. We ate lunch at the Cedar Bog, watching people push their strollers and walk their dogs on the easy trail. It was fun photographing, but not great, until we reached a bridge over Willaby Creek. We were looking down at maples in front of the dark waters of the creek. After coming off that part of the trail, we finished the hike along the shore of Lake Quinault, passing private homes and the Lake Quinault Lodge. I wouldn’t mind staying at that place for a couple of days. I’m a sucker for any room that has an outside deck or porch with a chair on it.

We returned once again to our perfect campsite and enjoyed the view with a fire, potato chips and Cuba Libres. Oh man, this is living. I’ve been surprised at how warm it is here. Usually I’m freezing, but I’ve been hiking in short-sleeved shirts. The cloud cover and humidity keep it warmer, I guess. This morning, Dave got up early to photograph, so I popped up and we went for a walk down the beach. It was so great that we’ve decided to stay another night here. This campsite is too good to give up.

The next morning was misty and we walked down Kalaloch Beach, enjoying the mystery that fog imparts to the landscape.

Later in the afternoon, we visited the Kalaloch Lodge, a cute seaside place with cabins that have nice ocean views and Adirondack chairs to view them from. I had pulled a great picture of a rocky beach that supposedly was next to the Lodge. No such luck. We found it ten miles north, Ruby Beach. Ruby Beach was named for the sand composed of crushed garnets. After some careful perusing, I did find a few spots with reddish sands. As we were leaving the beach, we spotted a downed tree trunk covered with balanced rocks. It always amazes me that someone will take the time to select and balance hundreds of rocks. It looked great, an on-the-spot art piece.

Back on the coast road after the lighthouse, we got to go about 4 miles further before reaching Oceanside and the end of the road. A landslide took out the road and so to see the southern part, you drive back the way you came and head south on US-101. As with Devil’s Slide and Big Sur, the Pacific Ocean can take out roads pretty easily. One interesting thing we’ve noticed in some seaside towns is the tsunami evacuation signs that point people to roads that go up into the mountains. I guess there are sirens that tell you to rise up as fast as you can. We finished off the afternoon at the Tillamook Cheese Factory. We breezed through the self-guided tour, watching workers cut enormous blocks of cheese into smaller portions and control the machines that wrap and box all the yellow gold. Our real destination was the ice cream vendor. We painstakingly perused the many flavors. I settled for Caramel Butter Pecan (where was the caramel?) and Udderly Chocolate (not utterly chocolate, but very good). Dave got Tillamook Mudslide (the best!) and Cinnamon something-or-other that was also very good.

On Tuesday, we headed north to Nehalem Bay State Park to hook up with the Lazy Daze Northwest Caravan Club. It is so strange to wander around the large campground and see batches of Lazy Dazes throughout. What a fun bunch of people. The Wagonmaster is Pete Reed, a born leader and competent, creative auctioneer. As “newbies” we were asked to introduce ourselves and were warmly taken in. They had arranged to use the State Park meeting room for meals, and our first dinner had 60 of us crammed together. Everyone was asked to bring “heavy finger food” and this group can cook! It was all great. Most of the members live in Oregon and Washington and were full of helpful advice for where we should go and what we should see.

After a huge breakfast, Cannon Beach was on our agenda for Wednesday. It’s a cute little tourist town right on a beautiful beach with some giant sea stacks off shore. The skies were cloudy and the light was great. There were many clumps of seaweed on the shore and what was interesting was that every clump had feathers entwined in them. I don’t know at what point the feathers get glued in, but a lot of birds must lose their feathers over and on the ocean. We also visited Ecola State Park. A 1.5-mile drive down to the viewpoints felt like a descent into Jurassic Park: it was dark and dank and foliage threatened to take over the road. At one viewpoint, we listened to a lady insisting that there was a whale out by the rocks, even though it wasn’t spouting or moving. At another viewpoint, we talked for a while with a former surfer, who was thinking about making surfboard coffee tables (smaller than full-size).

We returned back for a fantastic BBQ chicken dinner, provided by Larry and Donna Kriegshauser, supplemented by salads and desserts from the rest of us. After dinner both nights, Pete conducted an auction of stuff that people had donated. He had some trouble with his ears, hearing bids higher than what was bid. The proceeds go into the club’s kitty. The items ranged from a beautiful handmade quilt to “fine Idaho potatoes”. They even auctioned off the leftover BBQ chicken. We scored a bag of potatoes, two handmade Lazy Daze coasters and some bamboo place mats. I waited too long to bid on a Sumo wrestler jigsaw puzzle.

Thursday, after a blessedly small breakfast of oatmeal at home, a hamburger and hot dog lunch was provided by local residents Michelle and Tony Vinciguerra. We waddled away from that so that I could get back to the rig and prepare something for the final pot luck dinner. And that will end the food-centric portion of this trip for a while, I think.

Tuesday was better. We changed to a better site in the RV park and headed into Portland proper. The first order of the day was to drop off Dave’s print to NewSpace, a Portland gallery that has included one of his works in its next show. Washington Park is one of Portland’s many parks, and we checked out the Rose Garden and the Japanese Garden. It was warm, but very peaceful. At one point we were looking at a waterfall in the Japanese Garden, watching couple after couple maneuvering in front of the picturesque waterfall. They noticed us watching and began to apologize for taking so long. The apparent tour director said “So sorry, bridal flight.” I guess it was a tour of newlyweds who all needed a romantic shot. The raked meditation garden was amazing; I don’t know how they do it.

After that, we were hungry, so we went up to trendy 23^rd Avenue and had a great lunch at the Rams Head. Dave is having fun trying out the local brews. After lunch, back to culture; we checked out a collection of specially printed artist’s books by Inge Bruggeman. Then, it was hot, we were tired, so we did a little grocery shopping and headed home, to munch potato chips and drink Cuba Libres in the shade of our Lazy Daze. The week should be interesting as the weather is expected to get into the high 90’s all week. This is not what we expected from Portland.

The next day we turned east to go down the Columbia Gorge Highway, replete with many waterfalls, hikes and state parks. It’s a windy road, with some pretzel turns here and there. The first stop is Crown Point Vista House, with a good view of the Columbia River. They had pictures of what the Gorge looked like with the autumn foliage going. Dave said the brilliant colors were oversaturated dry grasses and dead trees. We got a good tip from the information desk: get Udderly Chocolate ice cream at the Tillamook Cheese Factory. (That will be next week.)

The drive was perfect for the hot weather: drive in the air-conditioned car, find a waterfall, do a short hike to good viewpoint, photograph, return to air-conditioned car. Latourell Falls caught our attention for a while. Multnomah Falls was the highlight – 611-foot falls, supposedly the third highest in the U.S.  I’m pretty sure Yosemite Falls is highest, but I’m not sure of the second highest. We got in line to get an unimpeded view of the falls.

After Multnomah, we got on the Interstate and sped further east to the town of Mount Hood. The smoke wasn’t too bad there, but a big fire in the Mount Hood area was putting a lot of particulate matter in the air. We went to a couple of wineries and decided that Pinot Gris and Pinot Noir still aren’t our favorite grapes, but we found a couple of bottles we liked. Then we sped back home to our sweltering Lazy Daze.

Thursday was a city day again. We skipped breakfast at home to visit Voodoo Doughnuts (yes, kids, that is the proper way to spell donuts). Their menu of doughnuts lists about 30 or 40, and they utilize foodstuffs such as Coco Puffs, bacon, Fruit Loops, Oreos, marshmallows and peanut butter. Oh, and a selection of vegan doughnuts, of course. Dave had the Bacon Maple Bar, with maple frosting and bacon on top.  My Memphis Mafia was a little more complicated, basically an apple fritter with bananas, glaze, chocolate frosting, peanut butter, peanuts and chocolate chips. Oh my, they were good! Luckily, there wasn’t a line, which there often is. They sell buckets of day old pastry, and one lady did stride off to work (presumably) with her bucket.

We walked around downtown as the day grew hotter and retreated to the air-conditioned Portland Art Museum. Their temporary exhibit was wonderful old fancy cars. Men in shorts, khakis and suits swarmed around the autos, rhapsodizing about transportation. Once past that, the museum has nice variety of painting, old and new, and a good collection of native American arts and crafts. We had an alfresco lunch and judged the fashion consciousness of Portlanders – long, summery dresses and white khakis: good; mid-calf pants (aka pedal-pushers) and droopy shorts: bad.

Finally, we headed south of Portland to the Swan Island Dahlia Farm. August and September are the months for dahlias and they were at their peak, mindblowingly extravagant. It was very hot, but wonderful.

Friday was a quiet day. The highlight was going to dinner at the Riverview Restaurant, which true to its name, has a large deck right by the Sandy River. The evening air smelled of forest, the company was good, our dinners were great – a wonderful evening. There even was a piano player, playing somewhat hokey music, but it suited the ambiance. At one point, I noticed him leaving but the piano kept playing. It sounded like his style, so I wonder if he recorded his own music to play while he took a break.

We started our last outing in the city of Portland at Voodoo Doughnuts. I got Diablos Rex, a very chocolate doughnut; Dave got (pardon the language) an Old Dirty Bastard, with Oreo cookie bits and other unnatural things on top. This time there was a fairly long line, but everyone was amiable. The Portland Saturday market was right next to Voodoo, and so was a pretty good Prince imitator. After a few shots, we went looking for cherries, corn and other flora. Alas, the only fruit and vegetables were in smoothies or battered and fried.  So we moved on to other cultural activities. Powell Books, as advertised, must be the largest bookstore in the U.S. It’s divided into many rooms. The science fiction was in the Gold Room, and it was the largest collection of SciFi I’ve ever seen outside of a bookstore solely devoted to SciFi. I was impressed, but we bought a few books and moved on; it was getter hotter and hotter, in the mid-90’s. We checked out several art galleries in the northwest section of the city and I had the best fish sandwich in years at Fullers Coffee Shop, an old fashioned place with stools surrounding a W-shaped counter. We went home after that, closed all the windows and hatches, and reveled in air–conditioning the rest of the afternoon.

Today is 9/11 and it’s a shock to think that we were in New York ten years ago. It was a warm, beautiful fall day in mid-town Manhattan, and we saw the first tower collapse on television as we were eating breakfast in the hotel. What a terrible, helpless feeling. I finally managed to get through to the San Francisco Customhouse and found out that all of the Customs people in 6 World Trade Center, in the shadow of the towers, had gotten out safely. We spent a surreal day, watching disaster after disaster on television, realizing we weren’t going to fly out soon, extending our stay at the hotel, trying to give blood at a hospital that no survivors were coming to and finally, wandering around Central Park, watching fighter jets fly overhead.

Tomorrow we head to the northern Oregon Coast. I’m looking forward to cooler weather and lots of RV-cooked food at the 3-day Lazy Daze get-together in Nehalem Bay.

Wednesday, we headed south to see the Oregon Dunes that run for 40 miles. It was an unexpectedly warm, sunny day. Before our hike we stopped at the Elk Viewing Area east of Reedsport. No elk, even though we were told there were always elk there. We continued down to John Dellenback Dunes Trail and headed out. The trail starts in a wooded area, goes through a campground and then heads into the dunes. The dunes aren’t too high at this point, but we slogged up and down, heading for the ocean, 2.5 miles away. What was different about this dunes area is that there were stands of full size evergreens here and there, in the middle of the sand. We finally reached a strip of greenery between us and the ocean and started through it. We could hear the ocean, but couldn’t see it, traipsing on and on through the mini-forest. The foliage was so thick, it occasionally formed tunnels over the trail. Finally, we reached a gorgeous, pastel beach with only 2 other people, disappearing into the mist as they headed away. Beautiful. After trudging back to the car, we headed back to the Elk Viewing Area, but were out of luck. No elk for us.

I’m still trying to find out the name of the blue butterflies we saw at Crater Lake. The internet is full of pictures and descriptions of blue butterflies, but none of them seem to quite match up. Either the butterfly shown is an endangered species or its range is in the Artctic and Great Britain. We have a bird book and a wildflower guide, but its really difficult to identify things positively, even when we have a photograph. It’s interesting to try, though.

The next day, recuperating completely from our long hike, we drove north up the coast on US-101. Before we left, Dave saw a man in a nearby campsite talking to a duck. I went over to meet the duck. The owners said they noticed their Khaki Campbell duck was not moving much and decided to bring her on their trip to see if they could nurse her back to health. They then realized she had hurt her foot. She wasn’t as pretty or friendly as other ducks we have known (we remember you, Butters) but she was guarded by a German Shepherd who kept an eye on me. The owner said he had Muscovy Ducks with more personality, but she was still a nice duck who liked to cuddle.

After filling up the Rav4 with our necessities (and possibilities) we headed to Sea Lion Caves, a gigantic cavern carved out of the bottom of a cliff, where the waves pound in. The elevator down to the cavern indicates the descent not by floors but by feet, until you’re 200 feet down. There’s a big rock formation in the middle where the sea lions haul out. There were only a few sea lions there, but it was amazing to watch them swim into the cavern, check out the rock to see who was there (am I anthropomorphizing?) and then time the waves to throw themselves up on the rock. It wouldn’t be pretty if they timed it wrong.

After that, we went further north to Cape Perpetua, 800 feet above the Pacific. There’s several trails and we took the short ones to the beach. The water pounds the shore heavily and the Spouting Horn periodically blows like a geyser as the surf churns into a small cavern and is expelled out a small hole. The tidepools weren’t too impressive; we weren’t near a low tide, but it was nice to traipse along the coast on easy trails.

We returned to Cape Perpetua on Friday morning and did a little leg stretcher hike to a giant Spruce tree. It was very big, but hard to photograph, so we just played little photographic games, introducing motion into the frame. Back at the visitor center, we asked where a good seafood restaurant could be found and were sent to Luna Sea in Yachats. Oh man, it was great! A small place, it had about 6 tables and was playing “Deadliest Catch” on a big flat-screen TV. I had oysters and fries and Dave had a fish combo with fries. The oysters, battered and fried, were mouthwatering. The fries were hot and crispy. Fish heaven!

After lunch, we continued north on US-101 through crowded Newport and went to Yaquina Head, an outstanding (literally) bit of land that has a still-functioning lighthouse. The wind was blowing about 40 mph, so we decided to tour the lighthouse to get inside. But someone said you could see 3 or 4 gray whales from the viewing area, so we headed into the wind. We were blown away (literally and figuratively). The whales were about 300 or 400 yards away. They didn’t breech, but you could easily see their spouts and bits of barnacled backs. So cool!! After they headed away from shore, we toured the lighthouse. The forest service has rangers enacting the lighthouse crew and they are very informative. Lighthouse life was remote, even though the lighthouse was only 4 miles from the town of Newport. The families raised and hunted most of their provisions and entertained themselves. The “keepers” lost their jobs in the 1930’s when electricity replaced them. Blasted by the wind, we decided not to hike around the area and headed south towards home.

Dave remembered that the Cape Perpetua forest ranger had mentioned the road up to Cape Perpetua Overlook. We drove up there and were totally stunned. I have never in my life seen so much ocean from a viewpoint. It looked like you could see the curvature of the earth. That was a magnificent ending to our trip that day.

Saturday morning, we rose up, heated up some leftover coffee and headed to the dunes area just south of Florence. The morning mists were still hanging over the water. People were out and about, crabbing, surfing, jogging, walking the dog. It felt good out there.

Sunday was our last full day on the Central Oregon coast. We went inland a little to hike the Sweet Creek Trail, known for having lots of small waterfalls. It was beautiful, perhaps one of the best trails we’ve been on. The creek was gorgeous and accessible. Several of the waterfall names were provided to us by a 74-year old photographic enthusiast who was hiking along with his son, grandson and great grandson. Quite a dynasty. After the first hike, we found the trail to Beaver Creek Falls that was another pretty water spot.

The next morning we got a late start. The nearby trains whistled through our valley several times during the night. It’s amazing how many towns and campgrounds we’ve stayed at where you can hear the trains go by. Our drive for the day was 62-mile Aufderheide portion of the West Cascade Scenic Byway. It runs by the North Fork of the Middle Fork of the Willamette River. (To say Oregon is full of rivers is an understatement. The area of the Cascade Mountains we’re in gets an average of 72 inches of rain per year. That compares to 22 inches for San Francisco.) It’s a very verdant, pretty road, but we ran into our usual problem: it is very difficult to photograph.

The Forest Service lends out a CD that explains what you’re seeing as you drive up the road. It’s got some interesting information: how much trial and error they have had to optimally re-grow logged areas; how much trial and error they have had to not kill off salmon populations after a dam was built. It sounds likes it’s been more error than trial, but they’re still working on it, and are admitting their difficulties.

Oregon also has a large number of covered bridges (logical, since they have so many rivers) and we will be attempting to photograph any number of them in the upcoming weeks.

We moved to a nearby RV park on Saturday, so we could catch up on communications, electrical charging and laundry. Ho hum. Sunday, we went to see Salt Creek Falls, 258- feet high and quite dramatic. From there, a 3-mile hike took us to Diamond Creek Falls, not so high but quite wide and full of mossy boulders. It is fun to see these waterfalls running at high speed in August. Usually, they are pretty insipid this late in the year, but not in Oregon. It’s been a nice stay here, but I’m ready to see the Oregon coast. We head there tomorrow.