WE’RE OFF AGAIN: OREGON & WASHINGTON, DAYS 1-4

As usual, no matter how much we think we’re planning ahead, packing and outfitting the rig always takes twice as long as we think it will.  Do you think I have enough clothes?

 

And that’s just my half.  Loni is just as bad.  The usual last minute nonsense consumed Thursday morning, and it was almost 11:30 before we pulled out.  Nothing much to say about our first day.  We made it as far as Merced before calling it quits.  Ended up in one of those RV parks that are mostly long-term (permanent?) residents who are, shall we say, living on the margin.  That being said, many of the 8-footers and double-wides were neatly maintained and some had very nice gardens.  On the other side of the coin, some units looked like they should have been condemned long ago.  The “overnighter” section was at the end of a row by itself.  Quiet, priced right, and we had no complaints with the “Country Living RV Park.”  Well, there’s country and there’s country.

Friday was a longer push to get as far North as possible.  But first we made a detour into Turlock to visit with my high school English teacher, Stan Wilson, a guy who was a strong influence for the better for all of us “honors” students who had the good fortune to have him for both our sophomore and junior years.  He’s now 88, and currently in a rehab facility after a fall, but still alert and with a remarkable memory for our years together in the early 60’s.  We had a good chat, then had to get back on the road.  We were shooting for Redding, with the idea of holing up for the weekend in some RV park that had cable t.v. with ESPN so we could watch (among others) Stanford play UCLA Saturday night.  Yeah, I know, we’re supposed to be camping.  Bah.  We’re rving. 

Stayed on 99 through Sacramento, decided to avoid I-5 and instead “see the sights” on SR70 through Marysville, Oroville, and Chico.  Hmmm. Looks just like the rest of the Central Valley.  Lots of brown this time of year, and an irritating circuitous route through Marysville that was slow torture.  Well, we saw the sights.  At Red Bluff we joined the, ahem, faster moving traffic on I-5 and it wasn’t long before we got our first peak at Mount Shasta.  It’s one impressive mass.  This was taken by the intrepid navigatrix through the windshield:

We started phoning RV parks (see, advance planning!) that we plucked from our AAA and Trailer Life guidebooks, but only those with cable tv.  The first we called had space and cable, so we headed for the Redding RV park.  When we got there, the office was closed (a half hour early according to their window sign, and contrary to what they told us on the phone), but they had after-hours check-in procedures so we cruised around, rejected the only two back-in (read, cheaper) sites (the first with two college kids setting up for a party next door, and the second a mere five feet from the bathroom doors), and selected a larger pull-through site.  I opened the check-in envelope and, among the papers inside was the channel list for the cable tv.  Hmmmm.  NO ESPN!  Plan B.  Phone the next park.  Space: yes; cable: yes; ah, ESPN?  No.  Yikes, that was the only other park listed with cable.  What’s with these podunk cable systems?  Ah, but to their everlasting credit, they suggested we try the Mountain Gate RV Park in the town of Shasta Lake, about 9 miles north.  Yes, to all three questions.  We bail from Redding RV park and beetle off to MG.  A great break for us, as this has to be one of the nicest RV parks we’ve ever been in, and only a couple of bucks more per night than the others.  Top ratings for cleanliness of the restrooms/showers, nice landscaping, excellent level sites that aren’t cheek-to-jowl, full cable, wifi that works gangbusters, and friendly staff that even has a Sunday afternoon ice-cream social.  Well, say no more!  (The foreground below is not part  of the property.)

We managed to hit it lucky, timing-wise.  This was the weekend for a free two-day concert-in-the-park, and the local paper had a small blurb about a grape-stomping contest to be held by a downtown wine facility.  All right!  We offloaded the scoot, and after checking out the morning college games, took off back to Redding, managing to keep ahead of the trucks on I-5, but just barely.  Thank goodness it’s asphalt and not grooved concrete up here.  65mph on 12 inch wheels is challenging enough. 

Redding is the home of the Sundial Bridge, a one-of-a-kind, at least here in the States.

It was conceived by a Spanish architect, Santiago Calatrava, and is the largest working sundial in the world while doing double duty as a neat pedestrian bridge. 

The pylon is 210 feet high, leans due north and casts its shadow on a garden-bordered dial plate that has markers to show the time.  It appeared to be pretty accurate.  The markers are set for June 21.  It was 1:22 when we were there, and the shadow (which my flash wiped out) covered the whole disc and then some on each side.  Very cool.

We found the location of the grape stomp, parked, and got into the swing of things. 

 

Oh, yes, they did sell wine, had a catered, all-you-can-eat spaghetti dinner, a meatball-making competition with prizes, and a Lucy look-alike competition.

   Now, it helps to be of a certain age to understand the Lucy reference.  Lucille Ball’s show had an episode regarded as one of her best in which she stomped grapes in a vat with a local woman.  It ended in a knock-down brawl in the tub.  Lucy wore an outfit like this one in the scene.

You’d think that, after wine and all the spaghetti you can stuff in your craw, we’d be done for the day.  Nay nay.  There’s always room for:

Shameless.