Capitol Reef N P

Located at 5530’ elevation in old fruit orchards, Fruita Campground is one of the loveliest spots imaginable.  It’s surrounded by sheer red rock cliffs on 3 sides, sage brush covered hills on the 4^th.  Deer wander through camp and graze on fallen fruit.  As anticipated, there was no cell phone service or wifi; how did we survive without it for 3 nights?

The view from our patio

 

The Castle

 

The Goosenecks, looking straight down at the Fremont River, the

modest little stream that carved a masterpiece.

 The area was farmed from 1880 through 1962.  The orchards still produce apples, pears, peaches and cherries.  Trish sliced and cooked up some of the apples with cinnamon and brown sugar, a delicious side dish to accompany the pork chops I cooked over a wood fire a couple nights back.

 

Magnificent colors abound

 

Abstract art by Mother, mineral water on sandstone.
 

 

Hickman Bridge spans 133’.
It's a little difficult to see; double tap to enlarge.

 The Reef, aka Waterpocket Fold, was formed 65 million years ago, give or take a few days.  Since then, erosion has exposed multicolored rock layers and carved numerous sundry formations.  The Fold is a 90-mile long ridge with smaller, parallel ridges here and there, and valleys in between.  The scope is so vast that you have to be in a plane high above the area to grasp the layout.  Trish said while we were on the Scenic Drive that it was like driving on the floor of the Grand Canyon, which is a good description although the GC is a much deeper cut.

 

Fern’s Nipple in center distance

Those Portland women would have surely renamed it had they been around.  
Let's see: how about Pimple Point?  Beanie Butte?  Conical Crest?

Bagging Idaho

Our plans to spend 10 days in Idaho were dashed by wild fires.  The 2 fires in south central Idaho were generating too much smoke for us to handle.  So we bagged it, both the Owyhee scenic drive and Ketchum.  Northern CA also has wild fires so that wasn't a viable option.  Northern Nevada doesn't have much going for it unless you're big on bleak, barren and boring.

That leaves Utah and that's where we are, Willard Bay SP near Ogden.  Willard Bay is part of the Great Salt Lake; I took a couple pix but opted not to publish them cuz the lake just isn't much to look at.  Today, we'll continue south and a bit east, destination Capitol Reef NP.  It's one of the few southwest national parks I've not visited so I have great expectations.  Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument is just south of Capitol Reef so we'll see some of that when we continue south.

These two federal preserves are all about mountains and rocks.  There are lots of spires, arches, wild and crazy formations of all kinds.  I doubt we'll have commo at Capitol Reef so will be suffering severe email, scrabble and blogging withdrawal symptoms by the end of our 4-5 day stay.  In fact, my left eye is already starting to twitch.

Flies

Flies piss me off.  Always have.  Had beaucoup flies on the farm in MN.  That was a given, what with pigs, sheep, cows, chickens - and in the early days - horses, producing copious quantities of fly habitat.  I used to wipe 'em out by the 1000s back then: sprayer, swatter, fly ribbon, anything that worked.  The spray was DDT; now I'm bald, have CRS and can't throw lawn darts worth a darn.

We carry 2 flyswatters in the RV and one of  'em is right beside me as I type this, sitting outside in the shade.  Many flies will die here in the next 36 hours.  Sure, they can reproduce much faster than I can kill 'em but whacking them into oblivion gives me a feeling of satisfaction and accomplishment nonetheless - especially if they're on my person or inside the RV.

Hat Rock Campground near Hermiston, OR is the scene of the fly slaughter.  Somewhere nearby there's livestock or rotting fruit or people with poor sanitation habits.  Could be all the above, rotten fruity people who never bathe and have goats.  Flies are attracted to stinky stuff.  I showered last night so don't know why they're landing on me; my deodorant?  They're not bugging Trish that much although she's the perennial Daily Special on the mosquito menu.

We'll spend 2 nights here, play golf and tour the area.  Hat Rock was named by Clark, of Lewis and Clark.  They did a lot of naming.  Closer to Portland, there's a large columnar rock, which L&C dubbed Cock Rock because it resembles a stiff dick.  Years later, a group of Portland women - influential, puritanistic, busy bodies with not enough to do - were successful in changing the name to Rooster Rock. 

 

Hat Rock

To this day, Portlanders (darn few) thank those ladies for saving the city from the sin and evil and corruption that would inevitably result from having such a lewd reminder of human anatomy in the vicinity.  Had I been around at the time, I would have led a protest movement, kicked it off by draping sail cloth over the rock, in the form of a condom.  You know, if that rock were in Africa, people would worship it as a great symbol of fertility.  Those ladies remind me of John Ashcroft, the attorney general that covered the Spirit of Justice statute.  What a screaming asshole!

Woodland, WA

Woodland, WA is across the Columbia River from Columbia City, OR where I lived for 10 years.  We can see my home (It's for sale; make me an offer I can't refuse) from our campsite, which is in an upscale private RV park.  I often wondered what this park was like when I lived in CC and viewed it from across the river.  It always seemed to be pretty full up - and justifiably so: great setting, clean, well maintained, and convenient to I-5.

Shuffleboard, horseshoes, lots of grass.

We stopped here primarily because we (the royal we) had to do laundry.  This park has its own laundry facilities, as do many of the larger private parks.  This is the type of place that attracts the big rigs, mostly driven by full timers who spend their time inside and don't mind having neighbors 10' away on both sides.  We do mind: we like privacy and campfires, rarely stay at places like this.   Get a load of the rig below, custom all the way, including a garage to haul their classic car.  When the car's outside, the garage can be used as patio, office, party room, etc.

Columbia City in background.

Many salmon are caught angling from shore.  I never tried it but spent many -mostly fruitless- hours fishing from my boat. 

Zoomed in at 10X, my house is upper right, some 3 miles away.

Inbound car carrier ship.  Being able to view ships and other river traffic was one of the main reasons I built a home here.  The smoke across the river is coming from the Dyno Nobel fertilizer plant; Patty, my ex, worked there for a few years. 

Schafer SP

Schafer State Park is near Elma, WA which isn't near much of anything.  To find it on the map, start in Olympia, run your finger northwest until you get to Shelton, then west about 20 miles and there you are.  The park is on the Satsop River.  The Satsop isn't impressive but yields many a trout, steelhead and salmon.

We're been here 3 days visiting friends and playing in the 21st annual LLCCILDT*.  We were unable to attend the event last year cuz we were touring the east coast.  Trish and I have our names engraved on the championship trophy, being prior gold medalists.  This year we intended to reestablish our reputation as Olympic-class athletes and odds-on gold medal contenders.  Intended is the operative word.  Read on.

About 50 people were in attendance.  Half of them played; all cheered and jeered, stuffed their faces (potluck), and drank beer or whatever.  Trish and her partner lost their first match, but it was a squeaker: 21/20.  My partner and I also lost our first match but it was a rout, not a squeaker at 21/6.  I was terrible, my partner not much better.  My partner and I then went on to 'compete' for the booby prize and won it handily by loosing again.  I've never played so poorly, didn't get a single ringer.  Major embarrassment, my reputation as a top notch spearchucker all shot to hell.  

This is our northernmost point of travel for the summer.  Today, we start a southeasterly course that will include stops in southern WA, northeastern OR and southern ID.
 
*Lost Lake Country Club Invitational Lawn Dart Tournament. 

She's Baaaack!

"Of all the RV parks, in all the towns, in all the world, she drives into ours."*

In my post of July 29th, I mentioned the woman with lots of dogs that was parked beside us at the Roseburg, OR fairgrounds.  Yesterday at 3:15 pm she pulled into our 7-space county rv park in Scappoose, OR and parked right beside us.  Again.  We are so thrilled, you just can't imagine!

Her pickup has a 16-dog capacity; how many she actually has we don't know.  Lots.  In Roseburg, she had at least 6, all of which appeared to be black labs.  Trish talked to her briefly, found out she trains and/or buys and sells the dogs.  She keeps the dogs fairly quiet although they do go off on a barking binge occasionally.  We're leaving here today so we'll survive regardless. 

Cruddy picture, too far away and too dark, but you get the idea.  There are 8 cages on each side with a storage area top center.

I gotta say that I'm not impressed with the situation: several large dogs living cooped up in metal boxes too small for them to even stand up.  How long does she haul them around like that?  A brief period, hopefully.  What a great life.  If I were one of those dogs, I'd be seeking an opportunity to bite her in the butt.  BIG bite!  Once started, I'm sure I'd find it difficult to stop - as would my fellow canine prisoners.

Are we traveling in some kind of time warp or parallel universe?  This is the 2nd deja vu all over again event of this trip involving RVs that reappear in campgrounds 100s of miles away from the initial sighting.  The Geese came first and it was a treat to see the rig 4 different times; twice for the dog lady is twice too many.

*In case the (mis)quote isn't familiar, it's Humphrey Bogart in Casablanca.  Great old classic movie.

Score!

We're in a small community campground near Scappoose, OR, same place we stayed 2 summers back.  It's got full hookups for a good price and we reserved well in advance so we have the premier site, with no other rigs beyond us on one side.  You step out the front door and you've got privacy, trees and grass.

Vintage 1928 with wooden prop and bike wheels.

This is a 1957 Chevy.  Trish knows the model years of many of the 50s era classics.

I do well to pick the correct decade.

I thought that this cute little thing was either a Crosley or a Henry J.

Trish says it's a Nash Metropolitan.  She's right; I'm wrong.

An event we were unaware of until arriving took place at the regional airport adjacent to us over the weekend: an antique airplane fly-in/classic car show/model railroad show with a few military and fire/police rigs thrown in for good measure.  It wasn't a humongously large collection of goodies but there was some really neat stuff, as the pictures indicate.

This is a lightweight but well-armed military rig.  It would be great for some urban applications and maybe chasing terrorists in the dessert.  Wouldn't want to get into a pissing match with a tank, though.  It's wide open and unarmored.

This had no sign that provided the age.  Sleek little puppy.

This pair isn't very old, built in the 80s and 90s.  They have identical paint jobs, are likely one of the pairs we saw flying in formation, lead and wing man.