2019 NORTHWEST PASSAGE Episode VIII

JUST AROUND THE BEND

Episode VIII































































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JUST AROUND THE BEND

Episode VIII


JUST AROUND THE BEND




EPISODE VIII


2000 – 2017







NORTHWEST PASSAGE



California, Oregon, Washington,










RICHARD E. ZIMMERMAN


And

ARLENE M. ZIMMERMAN







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JUST AROUND THE BEND

Episode VIII



JUST AROUND THE BEND

Episode VIII
2000 – 2017



NORTHWEST PASSAGE

California, Oregon, Washington



Copyright

© 2019 Richard E. Zimmerman and Arlene M Zimmerman

All Rights Reserved
No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted
in any form or by any means, mechanical or electronic,
including photocopying and recording, or any information
storage and retrieval system, without the express permission in
writing from the authors or publisher.

Cover and Cover Photograph by the authors
All photographs Copyright

© 2019 Richard E. Zimmerman and Arlene M. Zimmerman,
December 2019








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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS



Arlene and I have written and composed several books in a
short period of time. It’s been great fun, but most of all the
very same knowledgeable, and generous folks have given their
time and helped prepare each one. Without them I’m sure we
wouldn’t have completed them.
Our daughter Alyx has prepared our book cover. It’s a long
distance internet arrangement that constantly try’s our
expertise and proves her patience.

Paul Klump has reviewed our work, made many suggestions
and created an E-book as well as a Printable PDF version for
us. In addition, he keeps our computer working.
Our printer, Athens Printing has been with us every step of
the way. They are responsible for reviewing every photo and
tweaking them to more realistic color. They also keep
encouraging us to further edit the proofs.

Thanks to all of you for your help and support.
















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INTRODUCTION:
We began writing about our Northwest Passage believing it
should focus on the Volcano Alley. This great alley runs along
the Pacific Ocean, from California to Alaska. It’s caused by
the seduction of the Pacific Ocean plate under the North
America pushing up many mountains and volcanoes. But,
soon we were thinking about California and the 800 miles
along the San Andreas Fault, and the Strait of Juan de Fuca,
that separates the U.S. from Canada.

As we moved along we found places to camp mountains to
climb, deserts to cross, lakes to Kayak, and occasionally golf
courses to play and theaters to attend.

Beginning on the Eastern side of the California Rockies, we
drove between the mountains and the high deserts of
California and Oregon. Through Lassen National Park, and
Crater Lake to the Columbia River.

We Traveled through Sequoia National Park and the beautiful
Redwoods, along the Oregon Coast to Portland and up the
Columbia River to Deschutes Recreation Area.
There are many Volcanoes along the Northwest, but
Washington’s are the most striking in this long valley. During
th
the 20 century Mt. Lassen and Mt. Helens erupted. The latter
was a divesting eruption in 1980 and still leaves scars on the
land for miles. Our visit there was a sobering experience.

Mt. Rainer, is a hiking paradise, for some to the summit or for
us through old growth forests with strong narrow rivers. An
eruption here would have a horrible effect on the entire mega
population along the Puget Sound. We were surprised to see
so many landslides caused by the melting glaciers.




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INTRODUCTION:

Near the Naval Base in Bremerton. We visited with Dan and
his family on the Fourth of July. It was as grand a display as in
Washington D.C. We used it as a home base to go to Seattle
and Victoria where we visited the world famous Butchart
Gardens.

We could have stayed along the Olympic Peninsula for weeks.
Rain falls in these dense forests every day like a mist. The
Olympic National Park is part of the temperate rain forest
along the coast. The forests are dense and it’s hilly shore line
along the Pacific cause driftwood to pile high as it’s forced up
against them.

We’ve found the Northwest so different than the rest of the
country. Our adventures along the Pacific Coast won’t be
forgotten soon. So we say come along with us as it’s

‘JUST AROUND THE BEND’.

















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TABLE OF CONTENTS:
Title 1

Copyright 3
Acknowledgements 5

Introduction 7

Table of Contents 9


CHAPTER 1 13

Eastern Oregon

Mustangs
Lassen Volcanic National Park

Klamath Falls
Crater Lake

Annie’s Creek Canyon
Oregon’s Eastern Edge

CHAPTER 2 47


Along the Western Coast

Giant Trees
Tokopak Valley Falls

Lady Bird Grove

Crater Lake

Oregon’s Western Coast



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TABLE OF CONTENTS:


CHAPTER 3 79

Columbia River
Deschutes Recreation Area

Paddling the Columbia

Mt. Hood’s Summer Fruits and Flowers
Toward Washington



CHAPTER 4 89

Volcano Alley
Mount Saint Helens

Mount Rainer
Ohannapecosh Campground

Lahare’s

Patriarch Forest
Paradise Inn

Silver Falls
Mount Rainer National Park

CHAPTER 5 127

Port Orchard, Washington

Port Orchard
th
July 4



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TABLE OF CONTENTS:
CHAPTER 5 (Continued) 127

Cherry Pie

Seattle
Public Market

Space Needle

Port Orchard


CHAPTER 6 149

British Colombia
Juan De Fuca Strait

Empress Hotel

High Tea
Victoria

Butchart Gardens
Crossing the Strait



CHAPTER 7 171

Olympic National Forest

Sol Duc
Fairholm

Vampires





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TABLE OF CONTENTS:
CHAPTER 7 (Continued) 171

Hoh Rain Forest

Trail of Mosses
Spruce Trail

Hoh Rain Forest


CHAPTER 8 197

Olympic Peninsula

The Beaches
Rialto Beach

nd
2 Beach
Olympic Peninsula
Hurricane Ridge

Port Ludlow
Port Townsend


APPENDIX 223

Maps:

California

Oregon
Washington

Butchart Gardens



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CHAPTER 1

Eastern Oregon:

Mustangs:
We’ve been on the road for 6 to 7 weeks. crossing the
southern deserts to Mexico, north through Las Vegas, and
Death Valley. We’re now on the Eastern side of California’s
Sierra Nevada heading toward Oregon.

















Just outside of nowhere in the Lassen Valley we came across
the Litchfield Wild Horse and Burros Corral. We’ve never
owned any horses, but found these interesting and stopped for
a visit.

These animals, the Mustangs (Spanish translation for stray
horses), replaced the small, original North American horses
that died off thousands of years before. The Spaniards
brought horses from Europe, and over the years they were set
free. They grew into sturdy wild horses that estimates were
over 2 million across America 200 years ago.


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Mustangs:



















Congress took an interest in the horses passing the ‘Wild Free
Roaming Horse and Burro Act’ of 1971. It designated the
Bureau of Land Management (BLM) and the U.S. Forest
Service to oversee and protect 51 million acres of Federal
lands.

The legislation was filled with good intentions calling the wild
horses and burros a living symbol of the historic and pioneer
spirit of the West. The good intentions waned over the last 50
years with strong objections to these animals from cattle
ranchers.

The 50 million acres are now reduced to around 30 million.
Roundups of them have carried off over a quarter million, and
new laws have allowed them to be sold for food, and replaced
on Federal Lands with fee paying cattle. It all seems to have



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Mustangs:

transpired under the poor management and neglect by these
two federal agencies.
The BLM rounds up thousands from several areas, including
Twin Peaks, and Devils Canyon, bringing them in for
inoculations and adoption.

We walked the corrals, along the 6 feet high, heavy wire foot
rail, and bolted gates. There was no grass, trees or brush, just
the dry desert . Inside the fences were the Mustangs with
water barrels the only distinguishing part of each pen

We walked a mile along the fences. Most of the corrals were
empty, and we didn’t’ see any
nn donkeys. Where there were horses, they all seemed really
curious or suspicious, keeping their eyes on us. They watched,
but didn’t come closer.






















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Mustangs:

We like Buck colored ones with black manes and tails, or
paint’s, multi colored, but there weren’t any in the pens. Most
of them were brown and red, although they often are every
color, Rhone, Chestnut, Grey, White and Back.
The mares with foals were separated from the stallions and the
rest of the mares. Here’s a picture of the only stallion we saw.
Being so skinny we wondered if he was watching us for his
next meal. You might notice how strong the fences are, each
post and rail look like 4” to 6” thick.



















The office was a typical government installation. A wooden
shed with wide, dry wooden stairs onto the smallish porch. It
matched the dusty sun drenched landscape.
We stepped inside and saw the mounds of adoption paper
pamphlets, and other important information collecting on the




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Mustangs:

single desk and shelves. The creed of all horse people is to see
that it’s impossible to clean the dust off of everything.
Two women, one who didn’t understand the ‘Govt. Creed’
had a vacuum cleaner which she turned off so we could hear
each other. The other, very friendly, stepped from behind her
desk greeting us and explaining everything.

The ‘Mustang Maiden’ told us how we could choose a horse,
and for as little as $125.00 adopt it.

There were only a few incidentals. We’d have to prove we had
a place to keep it with proper stables, and enough land for it to
roam around. We’d have to have a trailer, large enough to
carry it. And, for at least a year couldn’t resell it.
We wondered after meeting the BLM’s adoption criteria if we
could buy 12 horses, and get a discount. If we could maybe
we’d put them on our ‘Double ‘R’ Bar ‘Z’s’ 1,500 acre spread
in Northern New Mexico with our special brand.
If we did, how long would we have to transport them; if we
could only move 2 at a time?

















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Mustangs:

Back outside she told us how contractors fed the horses. She
preferred doing it herself as she’d get to know them better.
She really liked them.
The helicopter and wrangler round-up usually gathered 2,000,
20 or 30 at a time. They had special horses called ‘Judas’ that
led them into portable corrals.

We walked along the pens, while listening and watching a Jack
Rabbit hop from one shaded post to another, keeping ahead of
us.

It was a nice visit, although what we’ve read about these
horses was quite different than the pleasant attitude the
Mustang Maiden had toward them.
Lassen Volcanic National Park:

Just west of us in the Lassen Valley is the National Park. It’ s
renown for it’s volcanic structures. Nowhere in the world are
there four types of Volcanoes found in one area like this. We
were intrigued by the idea of visiting the Park and thought we
would spend a couple of days there.

Volcanoes come in four types and shapes. The most
prominent is the Strato volcano. One we might all recognize
with its high triangular shape pushing towards the clouds.
The Cinder Cone is much steeper but not as robust as the
Strato volcano. Maybe it would look like Mount Hood in
Oregon. A third type called a Shield has a long oval shape and
isn’t nearly as high as the others. The Plug or Lava Dome are
the largest in the world.

We climbed continently to about 6,000 feet, the mountains
surrounded us, yet we were unable to distinguish one from the


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Lassen Volcanic National Park:

other. By the time we got to the campground it was getting
late. We found a place, and parked. Arlene made a light
dinner. After which we watched a cowboy movie, (One of
John Wayne’s 1935 shows where the horses jump off the cliff
into the river.). At this altitude it’s cooler. We covered up and
slept well.
In the morning the sun was bright. It looked like it was going
to be a beautiful day. We were surprised to see that the
campground had many ‘bear’ trash cans. Every other campsite
had a trash barrel. These barrels make it difficult for bears or
other animals to get into them. Even raccoons can’t figure
them out. When we first came across them it took a little
while for us to get them open.

It was apparent immediately that this campground had a huge
problem with bears. We suspected Black Bears. In addition to
the trash containers each camp site had food storage lockers.
Nothing was allowed on the tables and things in our vehicles
were to be covered.
The only place we’ve seen anything like this was in
Yellowstone National Park at their Fishing Bridge
Campground. In their case the problem with bears was the
campground was placed where the bears lived. And there are
so many campers around the area. The bears never left, even
though they were caught and transported elsewhere for years.
Finally they tried moving the campground.

It didn’t take much for us to realize we must be on alert. Bears
were probably all around us.
We encountered another problem at the facilities. It’s late
August and the park workers are tired and leaving. Often at


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Lassen Volcanic National Park:

this time of year campgrounds become ragged, tourists care
less about cleaning up after themselves, and the facilities
become a mess. This was the case in the park. Not only were
the toilets filthy, and not cleaned for a week or so, but the
camp store had been closed for the season.
We were disturbed by all this, but persevered by taking a
morning hike around Manzanita Lake.















It’s a shallow clear body of water with many reeds and grasses
around the edges. There were lots of birds. Little ducklings
quacked their way into the brush as we passed. An Eagle
circled above us.











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Lassen Volcanic National Park:








































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Lassen Volcanic National Park:

It was a good time for us to talk about what we’d seen and
whether we should stay or not. Services are a big part of each
National Park. There are lectures, guided hikes, clean-up
crews and helpful information available for weather, hiking
safety and just plain local gossip. We have learned to
appreciate and expect these services when we visit a park.
Missing those services and feeling uncomfortable about the
bears we decided to move on.
We packed up and headed toward Oregon. At Bump Pass,
8,500 feet, we came as close as we would to these volcanoes.
In the distance was Lassen Peak, at 10,200 feet, the Lava
Dome Volcano that towers over the Park. It erupted in the
th
early 20 century, for over 3 years, from 1914 to 1917.
Although we generally concentrate on the next expected
eruption. Wondering if it would it be Mount Rainer, or maybe
one in Alaska, and not about the ones that were before our
time. We do look at the latest, Mount Saint Helens. But, 1917
wasn’t long ago and from here north we will be in a lively
volcanic area. It’s the Volcanic Alley of North America.
We’re sorry that circumstances were against us and we weren’t
able to stay.

Klamath Falls:

On our way toward Oregon Arlene had made multiple
attempts to find a camp but failed. We would push on toward
Klamath Falls where we might find a place for the night.
It seems that we have driven thousands of miles along this
western valley, with the desert’s sea of sage, on one side and
the high snow capped mountains on the other. As we move
closer to Oregon the sage became mixed with grasses and


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Klamath Falls:

water began to run in small creeks, with an occasional Cotton
Wood along the banks. Cattle grazed among the high grasses,
their calves hidden beneath them.
We found a private park in Klamath Falls. It’s not so nice,
sites are too close together, but we’ll look around and if we
can’t find something we’ll move on to Crater Lake National
Park.

In the morning we took the Nova with our kayaks, for a
sightseeing trip around town. It’s not a large town, but in the
economic upswing is becoming a moderate vacation spot for
the west coast.

Most of these small western towns are defined by a single busy
main street. Often they are decorated with baskets of flowers
and very pretty. Klamath Falls is a little bigger, about 2 blocks.
We drove around stopped at a couple of places and learned of
a nice canoe and kayak trail along the lake.

The lake being the largest in Oregon, flat water and having a
paddling trail, was just for us, we headed out of town toward
it.
We found a public boat ramp with several locals loading their
canoes. The line moved along and soon we had slipped the
straps off and untied our kayaks. I had cut the straps making
them much shorter and easier to remove. The boats on top of
the Nova were also much lower and easier than the Honda for
loading and dismounting.

We were on an alley along the lake. On one side the
Evergreens, and Aspen grew on a slight rise The dark green
and light waving colors hid the cabins among them. It was



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Klamath Falls:

nice to see the relatively inexpensive summer homes. We
supposed that the people along the coast line hadn’t
discovered Klamath Falls just yet.















We pushed off across the calm water. This was just what we
needed after being so long in the desert.


















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Klamath Falls:

In the distance the Oregon Rockies still had snow on top.
What a beautiful location for us.















Paddling for several hours along the trail, it was nice to see the
canoe signs as we went along.



















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Klamath Falls:

It was also good that we never had a chance to go to the lake
proper, because there were no motorboats on the canal.
















As we looked around the water was so calm and flat. It
reminded us why we’d bought these boats in the first place.
Before moving to Florida we had sold our sailboats, and for
some time hadn’t owned a boat. We never were much for
going to the beach or swimming.

But, one day a local boat store had a open house with lectures
about different types of kayaks, paddles, and other equipment
like life preservers, and sun protective clothing. It was fun
listening to them and looking over their boats. We could also
take different boats out for a spin.
We quickly realized how much fun it would be to get back on
the water. We missed it. There were several types of kayaks,
some you sat on top of




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Klamath Falls:

the water, others below the surface. We liked the latter.
Among them were narrow and long boats. We easily chose a
boat that was wider, about 30”; wide enough for us to get in
and out. Our hips aren’t as nimble as before. The boats were
called ‘Recreational Kayaks’, and were different lengths up to
14 feet. We liked the longer ones.
Now as we look out again on this calm waterway, we easily
remembered what a good choice we had made. We could get
in and out of the boats, and being 14 feet long they glided
through the water with a slight keel keeping them on track so
we didn’t wiggle back and forth as we paddled.

Here as we’re rafting you can see most of everything we
started out with. It has served us so well over the years. Our
life preserver, sun screen hat and vest were especially light and
protective, 45 spf. We went overboard buying expensive
carbon fiber paddles, but they are light as a feather. We also
bought a couple of cockpit covers so we wouldn’t get soaked
each time the paddle came out of the water.




















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Klamath Falls:

This was quite a day and we’ll remember it for a long time.
Crater Lake:

We spent the night in the RV park before driving into the
Oregon mountains to Crater Lake National Park. Arlene had
searched for several alternative camps in case the park’s
campground was full.

Being pretty happy to return to the mountains we drove along
route 62. It was a nice drive, but as we got higher there was
more haze in the air. By the time we reached the south
entrance and main gate it became apparent that the haze was
smoke from Oregon’s coastal forest fires.
Considering the forest fires, there was some good news and
bad news. It wasn’t such a surprise to realize that most of the
Mazama Campgound, at 7,000 feet, was empty, particularly if
you think 85% to 90 % of all campers live 50 miles or less
from the park. It’s a large and popular campground with 350
camp sites.
Today, Thursday, in mid-August there were 330 empty sites.
We therefore had our choice of locations. We chose a pull
through, with EWD, electricy, water, and dump facilities.
What a nice site, and not too far from the bathhouse.

A fellow at the bathhouse told us that the wind blows in
different directions during the day. In the morning it blows
toward the coast, westward, and around noon circles around to
the east filling the air with the fire’s smoke.







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Crater Lake:

















The bad news was we had arrived early in the afternoon and
by 2 pm had set up camp disconnected the Nova and headed
for a visit and first sighting of the lake. It was past 3 by the
time we climbed the 1,000 feet and reached the edge of the
lake.
But, there wasn’t any lake. Had we come upon a Phantom?
The air was no longer hazy. We could only see 300 feet,
through the dense smoke. Not nearly enough to see down the
steep cliffs to the famous lake below.

We turned around and headed back toward camp. It was
pretty hard driving keeping in mind that the road was in front
of us despite not being able to see it.
By the time we reached camp our eyes were beet red, and our
breathing congested even with the air conditioning blaring.
We stayed in the rest of the day thankful that we had electricity
to filter the air.



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Crater Lake:

The next morning when we got up, it was clear with only a
residue from the fires. The wind had cleared it out. After
going to the bath house Arlene returned with a big smile. No
one was there and the showers were empty.
Enough said, I didn’t need another hint and grabbed a towel,
shampoo and soap. We were off and for only the second time
in all our travels and camping we showered together.

BOO! YAH!

Back in the Fleetwood, we had a fine pancake breakfast with
bacon, maple syrup, fruit and coffee. Today was going to be
special.
We packed a picnic lunch and started out, Mazama is at the
bottom of the mountain, so back up to the top we headed
toward the lake.

At the top the woods were dense and we didn’t expect to see
the lake right away. But, it appeared and what a grand sight.

















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Crater Lake:

Of course the Indians were here years before, but they say a
prospector discovered the lake by surprise while traveling
through the mountains. He came out of the forest and all of a
sudden was on this steep cliff. Below him was the huge
sapphire blue lake. He stopped and gaped at the beauty,
stopping his mules before they slid off the side and fell nearly
1000 feet into the bottomless waters.
That’s some, story, but were inclined to believe it. Not only
did that just happen to us but, it’s like so many experiences
we’ve had being right on top of a place before we knew it
existed.

Crater Lake is a startling beauty. It’s filled by snow melt and
springs, and has no known outlet. It doesn’t overflow because
the water evaporates from the surface. That’s interesting as so
many of our reservoirs are open to the sky and lose so much
water from similar evaporation.
At 1,900 feet deep it’s one of the deepest lakes, and if we
thought about our campground being 1,000 feet below us we
suppose we could drill a hole at our camp into the mountain
and end up near the middle of the lake. If that happened there
would probably be lots of water in camp, as the lake might
drain.

Crater Lake was formed by the eruption of the currently
dormant Mount Mazama volcano which was formed by the
seduction of the Juan de Fuca fault sliding under the North
American tectonic plate. Therefore, despite it’s circular shape
was





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Crater Lake:

not formed by a meteor, like the famous ‘Meteor Crator’ in
Arizona.















Under it’s waters are several volcanic mounds. We had tried
to find a way to the shore line from the rim, and originally
thought we’d hike down to the shore to take a tour of the lake
in a National Park boat. There didn’t seem to be any other way
to get to the lake.
The hiking path was a good idea until we realized it was over
800 feet to the bottom. We considered it to be about 60 stories
down and another 60 back. Climbing that distance is an
impossible feat for us today.

The best I could do would have been in my early years, maybe
11 or 12 when I walked from one side of Arlington Cemetery
across the Memorial






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Crater Lake:

Bridge up the Washington Monument, about 550 feet, and
back home.
Arlene on the other hand had climbed Mount Washington,
6,200 feet high in New Hampshire, up Tuckermen’s Ravine in
her early 40’s. Often climbers are eager and smiling before
they begin such an arduous hike. Afterward, the last several
hundred steps they are gasping for air and grinding through
their final few steps. Guess which end of the trip Arlene was
posing for this during her remarkable hike?




























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Crater Lake:

So maybe once we could have entertained this huge effort.
But, today, not under any circumstances could we ever take
the boat trip around this marvelous lake. At best it would take
us days to return up the cliff. We would settle for driving
around the top of the caldera,wondering how they got the boat
to the lake.
From the south rim and the Lodge we were able to see the
entire lake. It lay below us down a steep sandy drop with a
few ‘White Bark’ pines, clumps of greenish white grasses, and
late summer flowers. The only promontory in the lake was a
volcanic dome that had pushed above the water line.















Close to the shore the water was green, but because the drop
off was so sharp it quickly became dark blue. There must have
been some silt or something in the water to make the color so
vibrant. Surly, the reflection of the sky wouldn’t have given it
such a remarkable color.





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Crater Lake:

The rim drive was supposed to be 33 miles around the crater.
We clocked over 54 miles, causing us to continue suspecting
that westerners exaggerate their miles.













We traveled counter-clock-wise, which kept us on the
mountain side of the road. Arlene loves that view instead of
the dooms-day view from the edge. We pulled over at every
overlook; each having their own name, and as breath taking as
the last. At one point we were passed by a couple of old cars
putting along.















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Crater Lake:

It wasn’t long before we realized that it was a parade and each
car, maybe 25 of them. They had a single passenger. It was an
auto club that built new models of old jalopies, from Portland.
They were celebrating the Park’s Centennial Celebration Day,
1902 to 2002. The fifth National Park in the nation was
established in 1902. Unfortunately the forest fires to the west
had drastically reduced the event, and caused many activities to
be canceled.

We returned to our camp just after noon and thought we’d
spend the rest of the day cleaning and preparing to leave the
next day. We ate our picnic lunch we’d packed in the
morning, took a little nap, and by 2 pm changed our mind
about cleaning. We were ready for a little hike into the nearby
Annie’s Creek Canyon.


Annie’s Creek Canyon:
Usually we have some idea about the hikes we take. It’s a
good idea to have a sense of the landscape, wildlife, and
suggestions from people who might have been on the trail
before. The canyon was just down the path from our
campsite, and we had heard to go in the opposite direction on
the trail, but that was all.

From the trail head we could see the canyon floor and small
creek; it looked a long way down. On second glance it was
steep all the way, say 75 to 80 degrees down. We started in the
opposite direction, but stopped and returned to the trail head
beside the amphitheater. Another family of hikers assured us




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Annie’s Creek Canyon:

that we were headed in the right direction, counter-clock-wise,
so we began again.
The drop off on the southern canyon wall was really steep.
There was a sign warning us to be careful right at the start. The
path was a foot wide as it traversed across the pumice stone,
between the trees, while all the time we could look down, a
couple hundred feet to the creek.

Arlene is making her way, along the path. It traverses back
and forth on the way down the mountain side. She would
much prefer a wider trail as her weakening eye sight has
affected her balance. The narrow path and steep hillside made
her a little nervous.


Really, the warning should have read ‘Watch Your Step!’.





















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Annie’s Creek Canyon:















As we moved along a break in the trees gave us a chance to see
where the creek came from. A long water fall tumbling down
the hillside into the canyon was really beautiful.






















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Annie’s Creek Canyon:

We never imagined a hike as strenuous and beautiful as this. It
was untamed by the park naturalists, a rough wilderness with
this slender slip of a path weaving it’s way through the trees.
We were approaching the bottom of the canyon and could see
some white water flowing between the slopes.
A small bridge led us across the creek into a meadow, fallen
trees lay in their place and the sun warmed us and the trail. It
was grand.

We hiked along the meadow enjoying the beauty and solitude.
There were lots of late summer berries and if we had known
what they were probably would have picked and eaten them.
Not knowing, they were red, but were neither raspberries nor
currents so we left them alone.
















However, the berries were a wake-up call for us. We hadn’t
seen anyone or any animals on our way down the trail. There
were no signs of scat or scrapped trees, so except for our usual



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Annie’s Creek Canyon:

safety precautions we hadn’t thought much about it. But now
while facing the best of all bear food, those little berries, and
realizing that wild animals travel, like us along easy paths we
needed to pay attention to our situation.
There was no way we could avoid a confrontation along the
mountain trail. It was too narrow and steep for us to avert any
animal. Even a snake would be impossible.

The best we could do is make enough noise to alert any
animal. We first began looking around the meadow, and along
the creek, then up the slopes of the canyon for any movement.

I took my bear bells out of my ‘Fanny Belt’ and tied them on
my shirt to make more noise.














Also we started talking to each other in a much louder voices.
We further decided that our hike had been really grand and we
had gone far enough.





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Annie’s Creek Canyon:

We headed back up the mountain side taking one last look at
Annie’s Creek before beginning the climb up the narrow path
back to camp.




















Many of our hikes are without guides and in desolate places.
One that comes to mind was a hike in Hawaii into a canyon
where the ‘Fantasy Island’ TV show used the amazing water
fall as a signature for the show. It was an impossibly steep
decline to the creek below. We were much younger and slid
down several ropes that had been secured to the cliff walls to a
very narrow bush covered path. The trail which we would
later wonder if it really was; it was so remote that even though
beautiful and challenging it was totally isolated. Wild animals
weren’t a consideration instead no one knew where we were.
We hope we’ve learned from these experiences and generally



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Annie’s Creek Canyon:

take precautions to prepare for our hikes that we love so
much.
Oregon’s Eastern Edge:

It wasn’t too hard to get back on the highway, north toward
the Columbia River. Route 97 borders the high deserts of
Oregon, and the Mountains. Many towns along the way have
been chosen by retires leaving the coast. Some are robust and
thriving. Bend, Oregon was one that we particularly liked. It’s
many new shopping areas with big box stores, and new upscale
residential developments defined growth and encourage
seniors with good schools, usually higher education, good
health facilities and bustling, with economic vigor.

We couldn’t resist stopping at the local Costco for a walk
around and lunch. Lunch at Costco is always the best,
cheapest, and filling meal whether the best deal, for $1.50, a
hot dog, with all the trimmings, soda, and $.85 cents for a
Hattie Brooks frozen yogurt, or any of the other meals under
$5.00 with lemonade.

We moved on to a small state campground called Haystack
Lake. It was hot in the mid-day sun, but a pleasant breeze off
the mountains and camping under a group of trees was pretty
nice. The mountains around us were all around 5,000 feet,
except for Mount Hood standing at 11,000.
The lake had a pretty waterfall draining from several reservoirs
further up in the hills. It never-the-less showed signs of
drought, with large areas around the shore dried out.






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Oregon’s Eastern Edge:




















Campers seemed to be boat people and families. It didn’t look
too promising as maybe they were all weekenders; not our
favorite campers. In the middle of the lake was one PFV
(Personal Flotation Vehicle). The guy had been spinning and
circling in hot dog circles for about an hour; or as long as we’d
been there.

We talked to one camper, who probably was drunk. Our
observation was that weekend disputes were usually solved by
calling the police. We’d stay the night and drive tomorrow
along the eastern edge beside the desert to the Deschutes
River Valley.







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Oregon’s Eastern Edge:


















There, at the top of the Valley, like all the early travelers that
followed the western trails across the country we met up with
the famous Oregon Trail, and followed it down the river to the
Deschutes Recreation Area and the Columbia River.

















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Oregon’s Eastern Edge:

The eastern side of Oregon, along the edge of the mountains
was quite an experience for us. There were a couple of nice
camps and hikes. Also we had an opportunity to see a
movement of folks, away from the coast and larger cities.
Those who could afford to move, some for weekends, and
summer cabins, others mostly seniors, and retirees for
permanent homes. We’ve seen this migration across the
country, but here it was in an early stage.
We’d take another trip along the coast line before heading
further west into Washington State and the rest of the Great
Northwest.























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Episode VIII
CHAPTER 2

Western Oregon:

Giant Trees:
Miles south of the Redwood State and National Park along the
northern coast of California we encountered our first
Monumental Trees. Their size is beyond belief, and only grow
in a few places around the world. California is home to the
largest and most species.

The largest trees and our first sighting was in Sequoia National
Park. At 380 feet the ‘General Sherman’ Tree was so tall we
couldn’t photo all of it.


The scientific
world has a
thing about
measuring
trees. They
measure the
height,
diameter,




circumference, canopy, and many other factors.
So we have all kinds of data about them. It’s a good thing as
the more we understand about trees the less likely we will
continue to eliminate them.

Recent long term studies believe that we have come to the
crossroads where the Earth can’t reestablish it’s green footing.
That’s sort of an additional nail in our warming coffin.


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Giant Trees:

Unfortunately, there are already too many examples of how we
abuse our environment. The denuding of the trees on the
Easter Islands. The ancient Phoenicians of the Eastern
Mediterranean used to be the worlds greatest sailors, but, cut
down their cedar forests, leaving a massive desert.
Here in the United States Giant Redwoods grew in 2,000,000
acres along the California coast. Today it’s less than 2%, at
39,000 acres. We decimated them in 20 years during the early
1900’s. Finally, the federal government stepped in and created
the Redwood National and State Park in 1968, after 90% of
these huge trees had been harvested.

Giant trees grow in different parts of the world, like Tasmania,
or Borneo, but the majority are in California. The largest are
Redwoods, Douglas Fir and Sitka Spruce.
Strange ones, growing very old are found in Africa, the
Baobab and a Fig tree, 2,300 years old. The Sacred Fig is
supposed to have the deepest roots of any tree, over 400 feet
deep.

The oldest, being 5,000 years, is a spindly tree growing in the
Great Basin Desert of California; a Bristlecone Pine. We’ve
seen several in Utah, and California. They are always isolated
with nothing grows around them. If they weren’t the oldest
they surely looked like it, craggy, with little or no needles.
Whereas the ‘General Sherman’ is the largest tree yet found,
there may be others taller that a laser beam will measure some
day.

These trees didn’t start 300 feet high. This little fellow comes
from a seed the size of a grain of oat meal, and a cone the size



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Giant Trees:

of a babies fist. It could have fallen from the tree and grew in
the rich soil, or a fire could have initiated it’s life. This one is
believed to be 10 years old, and about 12 inches high. Others
around it are larger, but not very old. Ranger’s say several are
12 feet high and 30 years old.
So it takes a while for them to get to their full height. If they
live 1,500 years they need a lot of help and luck. But, these
mature ones must have been seedlings when Greece was in it’s
Golden Age, 800 B.C.















We couldn’t reach the needles of the mature trees, but here’s
what a 30 year old looks like. Sort of like a wheat stalk; huh!

This picture shows different size trees all growing close to each
other.








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Giant Trees:








































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