VEGGING ON HOME

This has been a great trip.  Oregon and Washington have lots to be proud of.  Wonderful scenery, interesting museums, good food and drink, and RV parks that provide, in most all cases, good value for your buck.  Oregon, especially.  We got mighty spoiled having electric hookups almost everywhere we went.  I think we only dry camped a total of five nights.  So much for getting any use out of my expensive new battery monitor. 

One of the best deals we got was the Tri City RV Park adjacent to Myrtle Creek, OR.  We left Silverton and motored south on I-5.  Unlike through most of California, I-5 is a very scenic drive through Oregon.  Our only concern was that this was a Saturday, and homecoming for Oregon State against Cal Bezerkley.  We thought the freeway might back up as we were going to pass by that exit about an hour before game time.  We did see plenty of cars sporting orange and black doodads passing us by on their way south, but there was plenty of exit lane at the Corvallis intersection, and it was no problem. 

We didn’t need to go far, and I wanted to catch the college games in the afternoon, and the pros tomorrow.  So we opted to get off at Myrtle Creek.  The park is fairly new, but like most parks has its collection of semi-permanent residents arrayed around the perimeter.  For the most part, this bunch seemed to be a step up from a lot we’ve seen.  The park was on the Passport America plan, so we stayed 2 nights at $14 each.  Not bad for excellent restrooms, intelligently laid out utilities (the sewer was remote from the water/elect), an excellent cable with hi-def stations, and dynamite WiFi.  The surrounding area was basically industrial, but that was visible only along the road, and not from the spaces.  In fact, the general view was fine.

There was some entertainment provided by the locals.  One was set up next to the restrooms, with a classic old trailer with a new, red paint job.  He had a matching red pickup. 

The owner was a classic himself, but in a different sense.  He was the epitome of the popular pejorative of “trailer trash.”  A skinny guy with a monk’s bald dome matched to a fringe of long, dirty, stringy hair that hung down to his shoulders.  When he stood, it seemed each part of his body was at an angle to all others.  Smoked like a chimney.  I first noticed him standing in the open doorway of his trailer, hawking a lungful onto the concrete pavement.  Then his woman came out.  Your worst nightmare of a way-past-her-prime (if ever she had one) biker moll, dressed all in black, hair to match her guy’s (but not bald on top), and sporting at least several teeth.  He spent much of the weekend zipping about on one of those electric carts like they have at supermarkets.  Don’t know why, because he could walk just fine.  In fact, he walked his Husky/Malamute, which was about the biggest one I’ve ever seen, and had to use his legs strongly to restrain the beast.  It sure is nice to be able to take all this in behind your darkened, panoramic windows.

We vegged all weekend, cheered Stanford on to victory against Washington, then headed south Monday morning, enjoying the last of Oregon as we passed through the Siskiyou’s and by the last of the Cascades, including  the Fuji-like cone of Mt. McLoughlin.

  Sure wish we had had weather like this (it was in the high-70s) when we tried to view Mt. St. Helens.  We finally had to bid goodbye to the Northwest, and crossed back into

 

We still had some scenery left, as Shasta was out in full glory, sporting a ton of new snow from the recent storms.  Now, that’s a “Welcome” sign if ever there was one.