Deschutes River Recreation Area - Heritage Landing

June was a pleasant respite from the noise and hustle bustle of a more urban setting like Wenatchee Washington but I'll tell ya, we worked our fannies off! We logged slightly over 100 hours each of mowing grass, clearing trails and cleaning campsites. Well over the expected 20 hours each and you know what? LOVED IT!

Several of the places we host at restrict us to a golf cart, litter pickers, and buckets. Not so for Goose Lake. There we got to play with some of the big toys and we both found ourselves, once we had started a project, swept up in getting it finished so we could move on to another, and another, and another. Which brings us to why we only had these two entries here. Simply put, we were too busy and to be honest, having too much fun to sit in the coach to write a blog. 

The ramp is in the background, down the hill.

That brings us to Deschutes River and our assignment at Heritage Landing. We return to more hustle and bustle (there were 8 vehicles in the parking lot after all!). The rumble of I-84 traffic is a faint drone in the background and is easily overcome by children's laughter emanating from the campground across the river. The noise of bird song we had at Goose Lake has been replaced by the occasional thump of a paddle hitting the side of a kayak and the transitory boat motor running up the river. I would be remiss in not mentioning the bi-hourly trains going by on at least one of the three tracks bracketing us. Depending on the wind direction they can sound far off or, unfortunately, in the motorhome with you which can be just a tad disconcerting when they sound the horn. Oh, and the wind - the infamous Columbia gorge wind.

Shearers Falls

The Deschutes river is the most highly regulated river in Oregon with restrictions on everything from fishing equipment and areas, power boat operations, raft drifting and even the size of groups going together. Drift tubes, floats and even swimming has their own places and times. When you add it all up and toss in rafts, drift boats and power boats launching or landing it has the potential to be a really busy place. Luckily for us, the fish run had not really taken off so things have been at most, moderate. 

Our job? To be a presence on the launch ramp to encourage compliance and answer questions on all the various regulations on the river. What this boils down to is reminding the various types of the different launch fees, remind folks that life jackets are a good idea, and in the cases of 12 and younger, no water craft fun unless a PFD (personal flotation device) is on and fastened correctly. During our downtime we cruise the beach looking for litter and assist in building sand castles.

As with any river with rapids, we had our share of spills. One set, called Washout, lived up to its name in July claiming two rafts whose owner were foolish enough to not follow the recommended line. Washout is a backspill set so the rafts, after dumping the not so smart cargo, tend to stay in the backflow current. It usually takes the wake of a passing jet boat or a grappling hook to bounce or drag them out. In either case, afterwards it's a "some assembly required" sort of situation. No serious injuries and the only other damaged property was a damp cell phone in a leaky dry bag.

Sadly we also suffered a death when a father attempted to save his son who had slipped in some fast water. The 37 year old man slipped and disappeared in another set of rapids. The boy made it ashore safely. The father was found 4 days later over a mile and a quarter down stream from where the Deschutes meets the Columbia, 3 miles from the scene of the tragedy. 

To return to a lighter note a boat launch can be as entertaining as a dump station but without the smell. Well almost. Because the Deschutes runs through areas where there are no rest rooms, rafters bring their sani cans then use the ramp's sani dump machine for disposal. Think of it as a dump station with the need of a LOT of hands-on thus increasing the potential for mayhem (read that entertainment for the host). Another form of entertainment was the almost daily "chase the raft" or "snag the boat". While we were down on the ramp this little gem would rarely happen. It was only when we were up the hill at our hosting spot looking down that we were able to observe the entire evolution. It usually happened like this: The folks would have pulled in to offload their equipment then run up to grab their trailer. Once the trailer was backed down the ramp they would drag or tow their boat to the trailer. Invariably, once they had reached the trailer they would turn their back to get set up and sure enough the current would give a free trip down stream without them. It was off to the races to try to run in knee high water to catch up or to abandon all hope of staying dry and dive in to swim to the boat.

Our month went by far too fast and while I can't quite pin down where all the time went, a goodly portion of it was simply sitting and observing. The antics of the guests, the soaring of the pelicans, the industriousness of the beaver (wow, didn't know they got that big!) Heritage Landing was a noisy, bustling, yet relaxing place to volunteer. 

Goose Lake State Recreation Area

Just one year ago we were enjoying this wonderful little park (more like slice of heaven), totally oblivious that we would suffer the biggest scare we could imagine - a head on collision. Since then we've counted our blessings and given thanks every single day for being able to walk away from that accident with only minor injuries. Those injuries are now healed, the car has been replaced and but for a few twinges and some small scars we would not know it happened.

This blog entry could have been a same ole thing type entry except for some telling differences. We're in a different host site, just a short distance from the one last year and with it came a bigger parking area, more shade and a bigger "yard" to relax in. Goose Lake, like a lot of the interior this year has experienced a very wet and green spring.

Courtesy ODFW

The lake, which for several years had become a dust bowl has water. While not full to the brim, it has quite a bit of water in it - so much so the fish and game folks are looking at a return of the Redband trout and their spawning up the little creek that borders the park. Funny thing is, the fish are waiting for the water level in the creek to fall a bit more and the flow to slow some before they'll go up stream.

Last year I posted about the small town atmosphere here and thought I would share some more. Back in March when we were headed back north for Lincoln Rock the only route with dry or at least only damp roads was the 395 so we decided to take the route knowing we would be going past Goose Lake and Lakeview on the way. Leaving Reno we were struck by some pretty severe high winds which were followed by rain, sleet and generally really lousy weather. By the time we made it to Lakeview our tempers were short, our bodies beat up and our knuckles seemingly permanently white from hanging on. We mutually agreed we were done traveling for the day so made some phone calls around to see where we could stay in what is usually the off season that early in the year. We got through to the fairgrounds and the girl who answered actually remembered us from the year before when she had met us in the park. Site for the night - SCORE!

Mural on the backside of the bowling alley.

Asking about a place to eat (most places were closed), the girl from the fairgrounds recommended oddly enough the bowling alley promising we wouldn't be disappointed. The bowling alley is separate from the little six table cafe avoiding the hustle and bustle of league night and set off in a corner. Our waitress? A person we had met at Safeway last year and chatted up in the produce section. So, despite the appearance of being an after thought and expecting a meal liken to a vending machine, we sat down prepared to leave hungry and contrary to the promise, disappointed. Oh how wrong we were. First a fresh, homemade broccoli and cheddar soup; just the ticket for some cold and weary travelers. Chris went for the club sandwich which featured not a single deli slice in it. The turkey and the ham were hand carved and the portion generous enough to require a carryout box. I had what they simply called the brisket sandwich. What was not mentioned was this cross between a Philly Cheese Steak and a French Dip that was loaded. Yep, dinner as promised and so much more!

I mention these two encounters because we were only at Goose Lake for two months last year and yet despite us usually keeping to ourselves folks had remembered us and asked after us as if they had known us for years. Can you tell? I love small towns.

If it wasn't for the excitement of going to some place we've not been and the impending swarms of mosquitoes that return to Goose Lake with the summer heat, we would really dislike leaving this idyllic setting at the end of the month. Oh well, Deschutes River State Recreation Area awaits. Oh. Did I mention? It's near another small town.

On the Road Again - Returning to Goose Lake

I wonder just how many now have that little tune running in the back of their head - probably with a Willie Nelson twang as well. You're welcome.

Sorry about that.  Not really. If I was anti-social I would have come up with the theme song of Barney the Dinosaur. Or I could have dredged up the Disney classic involving a small world. Perhaps I shouldn't mention where we are headed. I'm pretty sure there could be a few who would like to snag a bit of revenge right about now.

Anyway. We're on the road this week returning to Goose Lake State Park for a month of what will be, in comparison to our stay at Lincoln Rock, a quiet reprieve. We have survived several storms, a spring break, an Apple Blossom Festival, Cinco de Mayo, and Memorial Day. We've gone from full capacity to a ghost town comprising of maybe 6 rigs in the park total and that's including the three cabin host couples and us.

An added bonus was for the third year in a row the park was the gathering spot for T@B travel trailer owners. While mostly confined to Washington state and labeled the East Meets West gathering we actually had participants from British Columbia, Alberta and one from as far as North Carolina. Taking up one full loop and spilling out into two others, over 45 owners shared tips, tricks, and customizations. An impressive showing for a not-so-good weather weekend.



We've now reached the end of our stay here for this year. Our doctor appointments are done. There are no missing check marks on our checklist for repairs and tweeks to the motorhome and we are once again stocked with the essentials for hosting in a more remote location. Last year we experienced the high of discovery at the new place and we survived the low of crashing our car. This year we're making a solid pledge for only highs and if we have to avoid a pizza run, so be it.

Oh, its good to be on the road again...

We Are Back!

Sometimes you just have to take a step back to put things into perspective and that is just what I’ve done. Nearly a year has gone by since the last blog entry if there is one thing I have learned is while it may be nice for the readers to have fresh material it is even more critical for me to write the material. I have found I must sit down, gather my thoughts and express them in logical manner to preserve my well being. It is either the blog, yelling at people, or participating in some other less than social occupation. Since blogging is one of the few things I can do and not be arrested or assaulted, I’ve chosen this medium as the preferred course of action.

Now to catch up.

Our last blog entry left us leaving Goose Lake State Park to go to our family reunion in Hyrum, Utah. We had a new toad in tow and while a month has passed since the accident, we both were still discovering bruises and suffering from limited motion. Amazing just how much banging around we must have done in such a short moment. Physically we’ve healed up but mentally we have a bit more time ahead of us. Both of us cringe when opposing traffic crosses the line or someone rolls out in front of us and we are keenly aware of our position in the road. Looking both ways twice, even three times has become the norm.



After a fun filled and thankfully uneventful meet up with the family and the accompanying catching up, we turned back to the west to take on a park neither of had been to: Wallowa State Park outside of Joseph, Oregon. While we had not stayed in the park, we had enjoyed our visit so much in 2017 in that we just had to return to spend more time exploring the area.

Wallowa is the largest park we have hosted at so far and with three other couples working the obviously most congenial. We all shared the wood selling duty so needless to say the woodshed became our evening gathering spot. Hopefully we’ll have the opportunity to host with these folks somewhere else in the future and perhaps we’ll even return to the park.





October and November brought us back to Sunset Bay and a new host coordinator who was also new ranger! Before you ask, yes, we were gentle to the new ranger so as to not break him. We also had a bevy of hosts which for us was unusual and more surprisingly, a couple who were going through the application process to become hosts. We must have done something right as they are still hosting at parks and they’ll return to Sunset Bay this fall to host with along with us.

Winter struck during our trek south and I found out what it was like to drive on snow for a short time while crossing the Laseen Pass. We should have got used to the storms for from that point on we were either going into, suffering through or coming out of one storm front or another. If memory serves, I believe we actually had perhaps 3 days of nice weather in Yuma before we headed further south to the Gulf coast and Rockport Texas.

A day with sun and this happened

The weather came with us. Rockport had one of it’s coldest, wettest, windiest, everything yuckiest winters on the books. If it wasn’t for the outstanding Texas BBQ, the gulf shore fish fry, and the wonderful southern hospitality I’m pretty sure that trip would have been a bust. Oh, and the consolation prize of being able to hang out with my sister and brother-in-law. (I’m pretty sure my sister Tricia is going to kick my butt over that consolation prize comment.) 

Our time in the south came to an end so Chris and I headed back north in March in our typical fashion – staying off the interstates as much as we could and taking routes we’ve not been on. This took us to an RV park in Van Horn Texas where we huddled near the electric fire (yep, still winter cold and the wind blows in Van Horn). The good thing finding an outstanding steakhouse in the small town. A week stop in Deming New Mexico was also in order as the “spring” (really, just late winter) winds and dust storms crossed the high plateau. Much safer to sit and let the rig rock in the winds than to risk a journey.

Instead of taking the Escapee stop at Benson as we would normally do, we headed south on highway 80 to Douglas and ending up at Fort Huachuca. What a serendipitous find! This small famcamp was just what the doctor ordered. Easy sites to park in, a gentle breeze, and lots of sun to warm bones that until that stop, been in a constant state of brrrrrr. We so wanted to stay longer and make more use of the commissary but alas, there was simply no room at the park. Seems we were not the discoverers of this great place to stay. Who woulda thunk?


Back to Yuma we went with our route bordered by blooming flowers, sunshine and not much else to hinder us along our way. The short day trip saw us arriving at KOFA Koop to settle down for a solid week of thawing out, getting various geegahs and resting up for our next long stretch – the run up to Pahrump.

One of the things we did while hunkered down trying to stay warm was to thoroughly research and explore the Harvest Host (HH) program. We don’t mind the occasional dry camp and have availed ourselves of the random Walmart at times. What we have come to dislike however is the noise and crowds usually associated with an overnight stay at such locations. Enter HH and why we joined the group. While HH has participants such as golf courses and commercial settings, the ones that attract us are typically rural in nature; located in places that tend to roll up their sidewalks at sunset. For a modest yearly fee, Harvest Host provides you with a phenomenal list of potential FREE stops. Why do I mention this? Because our stop in Pahrump was at such a location.



Located a good five miles outside of the city is the Sanders Family Winery. For us it was a quiet, peaceful stop with a really nice wine tasting in a country day room setting. We could have stayed at the Escapee park in Pahrump and been closer to town but for the cost of a bottle of wine we had the winery all to ourselves; parked in paved and level spot located in the rear of the large estate. Loved it!
So ended spring. All I can say is the rest of the trip north to East Wenatchee and our hosting gig at Lincoln Rock State Park consisted of wind, rain, sleet, slush, snow and sometimes all five together. It wasn’t until our arrival in Prosser Washington that we saw sunshine again and only then briefly between rain squalls.



















So, here we are. Back at Lincoln Rock. Back to blogging. And yes, even back to sitting in the sun and simply taking it all in. This year we’ll be in two new to us parks; Deschutes River and the Coquille River Lighthouse at Bullards Beach. Come along for the ride.

Farewell Goose Lake

Small towns. You know, those ideal communities you've seen on television where everything seems way too good to be true. My first recollection of such small towns were Mayberry from the Andy Griffith show and of course Hooterville from Petticoat Junction and Green Acres. Regardless of the story plots one thing rang true for all of the shows, people in the town cared and watched out for people in the town.

A few weeks ago my wife and I were involved in a nasty car accident that left us with no transportation and doctor appointments some distance away – the closest being 14 miles one way and the other just over one hundred. Enter two small towns: New Pine Creek (population 120) and Lakeview Oregon (2300 people). New Pine Creek, when all is said and done consists of the post office and an antique store across the street. The post master allowed us to use the general delivery address and she kept an eye out for our prescriptions and other incoming mail and we got the word we had mail. Sort of critical when we had to chase down transportation to get there (about 2 miles from the park).

Lakeview has a Safeway grocery store and we had been going there about once a week during the month of June so I guess we were “regulars” - at least the cashiers made us feel that way by always greeting us with a hello and a smile. A few days after the accident we were shopping and I can't count the number of people who asked after us and offered help in one form or another; not just store folks but fellow shoppers as well. Made us feel like we were back in the small town of Ucon Idaho (pop: 640) where we grew up and everyone knew everyone else.

Now here we are the end of July and our time at Goose Lake is coming to a close. Tomorrow morning we'll be heading to Klamath Falls for a post surgical evaluation on Chris' wrist and since we'll be in the “big” city, we'll of course pay the obligatory visit to Wally World to stock for our next journey – Hyrum Reservoir in Utah.

It has been a little hectic what with doctor appointments and a little painful discovering new bruises on an almost daily basis but despite the adversity a couple of facts remain. Our stay here was very rewarding, leaving us with a feeling of accomplishment and sure in the knowledge we have indeed made a difference. Further, we  have thoroughly enjoyed our stay here. Our permanent ranger Rick and the seasonal ranger Lee and of course, our guardian angel and park aid Tina have made us feel right at home. Without their guidance, input, and support our time here could have been quite the opposite. Couple the environment these three fostered with our co-hosts Charlie and Becky and you know what? We were our own very small town.

Shoot, it certainly is not too much of a stretch to say... We're home.

Perhaps we’ll return next year.

Pizza Run!–NOT

I'll tell the tale about this a bit later in the blog but...

“Sun's up in ...”

So begins the early morning message from fellow RV'er Millie Duffin. She and her husband Dick have traveled around the country for years and each morning Millie will get up with the sunrise and post her news of the day, plans for the future, and sometimes, as she put it, “just ramblings of an old lady.” What I've found in the years I've been following her is these “ramblings” as she put it, are actually short, simple messages very much like the song birds she observes each day; pronouncements of simply the joy of life.

We met the Duffins very briefly on a hot, black parking lot just off the I-5 freeway in what used to be the Monaco motorhome factory in Coburg Oregon. This was the year after we had purchased our first class A diesel pusher and the parking lot which used to be known fondly as “Camp Monaco” had become the service center for a consortium of active and defunct motorhome brands called the Allied Recreation Group. I have always thought of it as the “ARG” (said in my most piratey pirate voice) – usually after seeing the invoice for the repairs.

There we were, a group of people as widely diverse as the our rigs, held hostage by the whims of the service managers. With only a truck stop and McDonalds within easy walking distance and not a heck of a lot to do except hang out in the customer lounge, I'm sure you can understand just how welcome any diversion can be.

Enter the Dillie Muffin party. As rookies Chris and I had yet to experience an RV'er potluck and being the kids of the group, honestly thought this would simply be a group of really old people sitting around eating soft food. Not so for we had not calculated on the tornado of energy, the monsoon of ideas, or the sheer force of will that is Millie. While folks will toot their horns under the direction of a band leader and fancy people will play in the orchestra following a conductor, true brilliance and awe inspiring audacity can only come from that rare individual bestowed with the title – maestro. In our little corner of the universe we have something better, we have Millie. Nuff said.

Years have passed since that one time parking lot gathering and the only contact has been via the almost daily “Sun's up” posting. That is, until this past week when Chris and I were privileged to host Dick and Millie at Goose Lake. I've said it before and I'm sure I'll be saying it again, one unique aspect of the RV lifestyle is though often separated by miles and years, friendships, even if those formed in a matter of minutes, can be picked up and continued as it was only a day.

Sure did miss them when they pulled out. Of course chances are always pretty good we'll run into each other (in a good way!) in the future.

Now, about that picture. Yes, that is our toad. Yes we were in an accident and yes we were injured. Chris got the worst of all yet truthfully it could have been much worse than her broken wrist. For those who follow some of our Facebook posts; no we did not get our pizza which was the reason we were traveling in the first place.

To make a short story even shorter, neither of us has recollection of what exactly happened other than the sudden appearance of another car as it smacked us or we smacked them. No matter; the end of the story is our car is totaled and Chris will be having some surgery to correct the break which was probably caused by the airbag going off. She has also been blessed with some really awesome purple bruises from the seat belt. I have been calling her stripes. She says I will pay for it.

Folks that saw the accident say we must have had angels watching over us. If they were, they have since handed the job off to the park aid here who stayed with us in the emergency room for the five hours while we were evaluated, drove us back to the park and then loaned us her vehicle to use. Tina, if you are reading this, words cannot express our gratitude.

So, we'll be staying at Goose Lake for a while longer to get some doctor appointments out of the way and the obligatory post surgery followups. I've already got a lead on a replacement toad so we can get around and as I write this, the soreness has lessened enough so we don't need help getting dressed.

What's the phrase? “It's nothing but a thang.” When all is said and done things can be replaced or fixed. And us? We survived.

Goose Lake–Avoiding the Crazy

RV'ers are crazy. I know this is fact based on my observations in the campground (and I read it on the internet so it has to be true). Einstein perhaps said it best with “The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, but expecting different results.”

This week has been a case where the theory is proven. The evidence involves several short stories so please, indulge me.

Camper #1 Actually not a camper, just a visitor to the dump station. Yes, I do hang out there on occasion solely for the entertainment um, er, to assist campers; yea that's it, assist campers. I digress.

The subject of our study enters the park missing the actual turn into the dump station area and so ends up going into the exit instead. Not a major problem as the whole thing is a looping affair which in his case, takes him right back to the entrance. Of course, since he went the wrong way on the loop, his dump side was on the opposite side from the actual dump station. He stops and you could almost hear the gears going round as he thought of his predicament. No worries, he'll simply go around once again and that should fix the problem. As he approaches the station this second time round he's already realizing it just isn't going to happen – again. Without stopping he speeds up ever so slightly and; want to take a guess?; yep, goes around for the third time. I figure he sped up thinking a faster pace will make it all work better. Upon arrival at the dump station for this, the THIRD time, our visitor finally realizes something is just not working. He's not sure what but there must definitely be a trick to lining up on that silly dump station.

Cue the park host, aka, me.

I calmly arrive in our little host gator (going the correct way) and inquire if there is a problem. The visitor, who obviously saw me approaching across the VERY LARGE turn-around area, sheepishly admits he was just a bit disoriented. You see, this was his first time at this campground and was unfamiliar with the layout. I nodded understandingly and wisely did not mention the three foot long reflective white arrows painted on the pavement nor did I point out the large square sign marked “Wrong Way, Use Turn-Around”. I did give them a long hard stare and wished him good luck as I mounted back up and went off to patrol the park.

Campers #2 and #3. Yes, a group of campers occupying two sites and perhaps partying just a bit past their limits. This group decided to pool their resources and have a communal campfire at one site.

I have to break away for just a moment. Our motorhome is a 2015 Berkshire which features a full frontal, one piece windshield. The anti-glare treatment and the lighting differences makes it very difficult for outside people to see inside though I can assure you looking outside is completely unrestricted. For the purposes of this missive, simply think of our windshield as our own one-way glass bubble looking out into the wonderful world of crazy campers. An added bonus is the thickness which renders it a very effective noise blanket.

Returning to the partying campers. I happened to be sitting in the passenger's seat (it has an electric foot rest and really reclines nicely – cozy), and was looking out over the campground. I could clearly see them gathered around the fire ring attempting to light their fire with wooden matches. Match after match was struck, lowered into the ring, and promptly snuffed out by the very light breeze. About every third match or so, the person lighting them would become mesmerized by the flame and forget the objective was to actually light a larger fire. I'm pretty sure they went through about half of the box before someone in their group decided it was the location causing the problem. In just a matter of minutes the fire makings had been stripped from the one ring and moved to the other and our expert match lighter once again began striking matches.

Perhaps it was the mesmerizing flames holding the match too long or maybe a match held incorrectly when transferring to the ring, but at one point our fearless not-maker of fire burnt his fingers. I am now very familiar with the allure of the silent movie. I had a front row seat watching the victim mouth words and swing his arms about trying to cool off his burnt hands. I'm sure my rather crusty, retired sailor vocabulary did not diminish the impact of what words were probably actually spoken.

I'm also assuming it was the guy's wife who gathered up the spilled matches, (there were really not that many left), gave the patient a cold beer and proceeded to crumple up some paper, add it to the wood, and light the fire. All with just one match.

The last camper, #4, demonstrated either an immeasurable amount of perseverance or, more likely, a truly serious case of crazy. Standing about 10 feet from a gopher hole, camera at the ready, our camper was bound and determined to snap a closeup of one of our park residents. Every time he moved back a few paces the gopher would rise up out of the hole only to drop back down as the camper/photographer stepped close to take the shot. I watched this activity for quite some time and finally saw what was happening. The gopher, after dropping down one hole, would peek out a nearby one to see if the coast was clear. I believe it was a toss up between the gopher and myself on who was having the most fun.

I can't say it enough. Goose Lake State Park is one of the most peaceful, laid back, and relaxing stays we have experienced. Cell service is sketchy, TV non existent for non satellite users, there is no internet to tempt, and the nearest town is far enough away to discourage running in on a lark. No matter though. If you hang around the dump station or simply observe your fellow campers, there is some really good entertainment to be had.

Until next time, safe travels and please, avoid the crazy.

Goose Lake State Recreation Area

The first of June has arrived and so have we – to a new campground that is. Welcome to Goose Lake State Park located just off highway 395 on the Oregon California border. This non-descript park consists of nearly 72 acres with 49 partial hookup sites (water and 20amp service) sitting on the banks of a very large but extremely shallow Goose lake. You could almost call it a wading pool if you disregarded the miles and miles of “pool”. Remember those old western movies where they show a flat desert and the heat shimmering like water as far as the eye can see? Like that. But with water. And no desert. At 4500ft. With trees.

What struck us on arrival was there was no one here. The park did have at least one guest since there was a travel trailer parked but the occupant had already left for the area's primary past time of hunting rocks. The quarter mile single loop has, as I mentioned, 49 well spaced out sites on both sides of a paved albeit gravelly road with a large communal space in the center holding picnic tables and fire ring. There is about a mile long trail that runs along the perimeter of the campground as well. I call it a trail but it really is just a 6ft mowed swath through the grass. Very nice for an evening stroll bird watching.

Twice the size of the campground, the day use area is split by a huge paved parking lot bracketed on one side by an open grass area about the size of a soccer field (it really could be a soccer field if it wasn't for all of the ankle twisting, leg breaking gopher holes) and another large area holding horseshoe courts. Tucked away may be the wrong phrase to describe the remaining area since it is comprised of a full baseball field sized, shaded picnic area scattered about with tables.

Combine the two areas and you have what could be a little bit of heaven for a myriad of people. For the artists there are the numerous lilacs, trees, flowers, and critters in settings made for the canvas or paper. For birders, sit back and simply listen the the cacophony from the song birds or the screech of the eagles and hawks or look out on the majestic pelicans in the lake. For the botanist the area also offers an excellent example of where high desert meets wetlands with its vast diversity.

Okay, enough of that, I'm starting to sound like some sort of chamber of commerce travelogue!

Our camp hosting duties are very much similar to the other camps we've been at with one major exception - I get to run a John Deere diesel lawnmower. Just think of the ape sounds Tim Allen made in his show “Tool Time” and you'll get an idea.

That's all for this week, I'm off to cut some more grass (yea, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it!) Chris is cleaning the two fire rings left from departing campers.

I’ve Sprung My Spring!

Ah spring. Birds calling, flowers beginning to bloom and the cherry trees blossoming with color. Marmots coming out to fatten up on new growth grass and other greens. Kids chasing after each other, dogs chasing after kids, squirrels, and marmots. And amongst it all? Well for the experienced camp hosts, the unmistakable occasional and somewhat muted exclamations of campers working out the bugs.

 

In the words of the famous Willie Wonka “So much time and so little to do.”
“Wait.”
“Stop”.
“Reverse that.”

Probably the most contradictory thing about full-time RV'ing and in our case, camphosting, is just how much there is to do and just how little time there seems to be in each day. I'm pretty sure it is all some sort of quantum physics thing and I have proven it countless times just this year alone. You see, when you take a seat on a warm spring day time slows to a crawl and everything takes on a wonderfully leisurely pace. It is times like these where you can organize and prioritize the your tasks for the day, plan future projects, and basically get your life in order.

Yea, right.

The very moment you accidently close your eyes for anything longer than a blink it all comes crashing home; time is relative. Upon reopening your eyes you discover hours have gone by and you are suddenly pressed just to get up in time to get dinner. Any thoughts of tackling a to do list or making plans will all have to wait for another day. Curse you Einstein!

Despite this hazardous condition, we have remained at Lincoln Rock State Park and I really have managed to work around the naps to replace a bathroom vanity and sink. Frankly, when you look at that project and recall just how absolutely hopeless I am mechanically, it remains something to brag about even if I say so myself.

Last year, shortly after our departure from Sunset Bay while we were heading south, we noticed the plastic laminate around our sink was beginning to wrinkle and come away from the particle board comprising the vanity top. Unfortunately, where the separation was occurring was not the only place some water was getting under the plastic and it wasn't until our first extended stop in Pahrump that we discovered the faucet had not been sealed either and had allowed water to seep under the mounting.

Enter Mr. Murphy. Just as I was able to take a solid look at the sink and formulate a plan for fixing it, both Chris and I came down with the flu. Our entire stay in Pahrump with the exception of just one day was spent sequestered from everyone and everything. That one day? Restocking groceries and probably the most serendipitous visit to Home Depot. You see, Home Depot does custom sized vanities and sinks in solid surface – something we had promised ourselves after seeing the utter disaster of the laminate topped stuff. The salesperson was a godsend! She knew the subject matter, had some experience with the order process and was very understanding of my complete lack of knowledge. Even though she knew we would be unable to purchase from her store because of our impending departure, she still took the time to answer all of our questions – even my dumb ones!

It was another three months before we returned to the Wenatchee area and had reliable access to a Home Depot for our order, then another month to receive our new vanity top and sink. With that sort of extra time, even a klutz such as myself can actually plan and execute a successful installation as the photo shows.

I wish I could relate that our experience ordering the custom sink from Home Depot in Wenatchee was as pleasurable as our shopping experience in Pahrump but it wasn't. Plain and simple. Somehow, perhaps because of the salesperson in Wenatchee was not familiar with the order process, our order wasn't filled for two weeks. Then, due to a recent delivery contract change, it took an additional two weeks to arrive. Kudos to Home Deport though for recognizing and acknowledging the problems on the order and giving us a $50 discount for inconvenience. Yep, will be shopping there again but probably not in the Wenatchee store.

In three short weeks we'll be pakcing up and heading off to Goose Lake State Park near New Pine Creek, Oregon. Until then, I'll leave you with the camper funny of the month.

It begins with our normal rounds through the park when, in passing one of the pull thru sites something caught my eye just every so slightly out of place. A 5^th wheel toy hauler trailer – the kind with a master bedroom up front and probably bunk rooms in the rear. What was interesting was the sewer hose running neatly between the two gray tank dumps. Thats all, just the hose connected to the front pipe, running along the ground to the back pipe. Note, no Y-gate valve and no connection to the dump. Yep, both dump valves were sticking out, indicating they were pulled open. Wish I had taken a picture. Wonder with the difference in heights, will the rear tank overflow from the added fluid from the front tank?

I missed the final outcome. They were already gone before our rounds leaving only a wet spot on the pavement. Granted, it was a HUGE wet spot.

Take care and safe travels. Type at you soon.