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We're chronicling our travels around the states on this blog. Check it out, if you're bored and sitting on an apple box (you can also check it out from home or the office).

Riding Shotgun Down the Avalanche

June 04, 2014Whitney Lea

The drive to Crater Lake was wholly uneventful. Out first taste of what lay ahead was seeing Mount McLoughlin out in the distance.

Soon we had entered a National Forest and were driving through thick pine woods. We both agreed that something about it reminded us of the opening shot in The Shining.

I had exhausted my disappointingly limited collection of folksy classic rock (I have no idea what happened to it all) and saw The Moody Blues Greatest Hits sitting, unlistened to, on my iPod's list of artists. I think I downloaded it from our old roommate, George, back when Sam and I lived in the loft in Bushwick, circa 2005. I'm sure I had heard them in the past, but the only song I really recognized was The Story in Your Eyes. (Cue my dad either saying, "I used to play the Moody Blues all the time!" Or alternatively, "They really weren't my thing. . . ." Your call here, Dad!)

I mention all this because music can really help me to remember a place or the feeling I was having. It can help me form a memory. There are many songs that, though listened to many times before, will transform into memory bookmarks if they are being played when something important happens.

Driving through all these big trees inspired me to play James Taylor; John Denver; Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young; Simon and Garfunkel. If there had been Woody Guthrie, Joanie Mitchell, or Joan Baez on my iPod they would have had plenty of airtime too. But as I said, we had run out of that music and I decided to give the Moody Blues a shot. Their older songs — the ones with big orchestral sounds — fit the swooping road and tall trees perfectly and definitely imprinted the memory of the beautiful drive on my brain.

We arrived at Crater Lake on the lodge's opening day of the 2014 season. This was sheer luck and had we been even a day earlier, the park would have seemed more one-dimensional. The roads were perfectly clear but most of the park was covered in meters of snow. See exhibit A.

Remember how I mentioned The Shining earlier? Well get a load of the lodge in picture 4! Not too far off there, eh? We took a tip from a ranger at the visitor's center and went to sit in the lounge area of the lodge to have a beer and a bite to eat. The timing coincided with Ranger Brian's first fireside chat of the season. It was also our first ranger program of the trip and it gave us a little more context on the history of the lake and the founding of the park. We learned that Crater Lake is a collapsed volcano, not a crater from an asteroid or anything, and all the sapphire blue water therein is rainwater and runoff (though there is a "hot" spring at the very bottom of the lake that runs a few degrees warmer than the rest of the water).

We had plans to hike the lake road the next day since most of it was still closed to cars, but we knew there was a chance that weather would blow in and we wouldn't get a clear shot of the lake so Sam took several nice pictures of our view at the lodge just to be safe. And I took a photo of Sam, mainly because he was wearing his awesome hat from Texas.

Sam taking pictures of the road map for the top of a blog post. Yes, his face looks like that whenever he's taking a photo he cares about. At least it makes it easier to smile.

We headed back down the mountain to the Union Creek Resort to tuck in for the evening. This is another resort that isn't a modern-day resort. It was founded in the 20s and the building we started in was built in the late 30s. We had an adorable lodge room overlooking the lodge's namesake creek and shared a shower down the hall with a number of other rooms. Across the street was Beckie's, aptly famous for their fruit pies, and out front was a "wagon" that smoked up barbecue daily. Were the prices a bit inflated? Sure. Was the strength of the wifi slightly frustrating for Sam, who had hoped to get several more blog posts going in our downtime? Decidedly so. But in the end, it was a nice spot to hang our hats and had unplugging been the goal, it would have been a perfect fit.

The next morning we drove back up the snowy mountain to take our little hike. The pessimistic forecast had failed to materialize so we were looking far and deep into the valleys below as we strolled past walls of melting snow and loose rock towering above the road. After a little while we decided to settle on a destination, and based on the recommendation of a hiker on a return trip, we stopped about three miles in where an excellent lake overlook was located.

Now, there are a few tricky things about being in snow that deep in a landscape you're unfamiliar with, especially on a sunny 50° day in mid-May. One: we are on the edge of a crater. This thing slopes down pretty intensely but the two meters of snow that had yet to melt hung over the edge quite a bit. Stepping up on a snow bank to get a better view could be quite perilous, at least in the eyes if a worrier such as myself. Two: chunks of snow and rock would tumble down the mountainside next to us and into the Crater every few minutes or so. Not enough to call it an avalanche, but we were at the viewpoint for maybe twenty minutes and heard creaking and crumbling sounds at least three times. This added to the worrier dialogue running in my head.

It's one of the first really warm days of the year. This road is closed to cars for a reason. Walls of snow are around us on both sides. You can clearly see where rocks have tumbled from the mountain, across the road, and into the snow. There are gashes in the pavement from falling rock. How many people have we seen on this road today? Maybe 8 in 2 hours.

So the hike back consisted of Sam and I discussing how to handle worst-case scenarios. He acted all calm, but the thoughtfulness in his answers tells me he had given that stuff thought too. Right? Ok, probably not. Sam doesn't worry when he's in the mountains.

Needless to say, the walk back was perfectly uneventful beyond seeing a golden retriever off-leash about a quarter mile down the road and not being entirely sure that it wasn't a wild cat or something. Cue your collective eyeroll at my wild imagination. Luckily, I still had The Story in Your Eyes stuck in my head and not Landslide or Hungry Like the Wolf...

So that was Crater Lake in its winter glory. In a few weeks people will be hiking real trails, taking boat tours around the lake and fishing. But I'm glad we saw it with snow because that's how it is most of the year.

Views: Klamath County, OR by Samuel Herbig

Random facts:
We coasted the Omimobile in neutral for 20 minutes and 13 seconds (14.99 miles) from the park to the lodge. That is a lot of downhill!

The Old Man of the Lake is a 30ft log that has been floating vertically in Crater lake since at least 1896. We didn't see him, but it sure makes for a good fact.

Crater Lake sees an average of 44 feet of snow each winter. The walls of snow had layers like the rocks in the Grand Canyon.

categories Diary
tags Crater Lake, Oregon, Volcano, Hike, Snow, Becky's, Union Creek Resort, BBQ

From the Redwood Forest (or: how I learned to stop worrying and love the road)

June 01, 2014Whitney Lea

After leaving Orr, we prepared ourselves for another stint with nature and the National Parks. This time we were heading up to the Pacific Northwest to see the Redwood Forest. More passport stamps!

This also marked a bit of a transition in our road tripping style. Until now, everything was very tightly planned. We knew where we were going to sleep months in advance for 90% of the nights. We had people we wanted to meet up with and places we had to be. Suddenly we were looking at two nights without a sleeping place booked and had plans to visit two national parks without knowing what we wanted to see or do there. I spent so much time knowing every detail of the first month and a half that it was a bit strange to look in the roadtrip binder and not have several options for activities listed along with their prices and estimated times. The page on May 14 just listed the drive time and destination with a suggestion for where to camp. My type A planning skills had petered out a bit and rather than feel increasingly concerned, I was feeling open and relaxed. Maybe it was the spring water?

We left the springs a little later than we should have with our sights set on a campground in the Redwood State and National forests. We drove through increasingly scenic stretches of the 101 (we didn't have time to take route 1) in hopes of making it to the campground before sunset. The redwoods were soon looming above us and the need to stop for photos increased. I knew we were racing the sun, but I also realized that we were supposed to spend the day enjoying the redwoods. What good would it be if we drove past them without Sam getting even one (hundred) picture(s)? We may never be there again. We needed to find a balance between soaking in the nature and taking care of business.

This, of course was only the beginning. Around 4 PM or so I saw a highway sign for the Drive-Thru Tree Park (tripadvisor!) and told Sam we had to hop off the highway and go. He had no idea why or what the drive-thru tree was, but I sure did. It was a classic roadtrip pit stop, like the giant ball of twine. If you're on a roadtrip and drive by a sign for it, it's kind of a crime not to stop. We had already driven past tons of signs for The Thing (cue wavy, creepy lettering here) in Arizona and we had opted out of a visit to Rock City. The Drive-Thru Tree was a chance for roadtrip redemption. $5 later, here we were.

So now Omi can proudly tell people that car has driven through a tree!

The people we meet at this pit stop were by far the friendliest people we have chatted up so far on the trip. There was the biker who was showing his girlfriend around the redwoods and then taking her to Yosemite; the lady from Utah who had just visited Yosemite with her family (sitting quietly next to her) and felt strongly that it was far prettier than Yellowstone; and the woman from Vancouver, Washington who had done a cross country roadtrip with her husband and serval children in an RV from craigslist (I would have loved to get tips from her, but she was headed out, as were we). I got back in the car smiling even though I knew we would be pitching the tent as the sun went down.

We started discussing an alternate camping place once we saw signs for the Avenue of the Giants scenic byway. The biker had mentioned that he planned to take his girlfriend on that route, so we figured it would be good. And as it was a byway, it wouldn't take toooo much longer.

By the time we were back on the 101 we knew where we were going to try to camp and hoped the pricetag would be lower than the $35 fee being charged in the National Forest campground. We gassed up and soon saw Trees of Mystery -- another roadtrip hot spot that we had heard about from an episode of This American Life (#506). The kitsch of an enormous Paul Bunyan was more than I could bear. You know I love kitsch! We had to stop! We popped out of the car just long enough to snag some pictures of the great American lumberjack, Paul Bunyan and his blue ox, Babe.

When we got to the park we planned to camp in we saw they would also charge $35 to camp for one night. Sunset wasn't far off now and we realized if we were willing to pay $35 to sleep somewhere that wasn't a part of the plan then we would be much better off paying $15 more for a room with electricity and WiFi in the next town. This decision sounds like it was made because we didn't want to deal with camping or wanted a fancy bed. You're only a little right. The idea of having WiFi and a night to dedicate to catching up on the blog and watching the German national soccer team play a friendly match against Poland was really what sold us. It turned out to be a very productive night in that regard.

Now knowing that we had a little more time, we drove up the coast, stopping at the first beach we saw to watch the sun sink below the horizon and get our feet a little sandy and wet. I had never seen the Pacific before so I had to touch it! Besides, there was no reason to rush anymore.

We arrived in Crescent City, California after dark and after splitting dinner at Denny's, we tucked into the Front Street Inn (tripadvisor!). The next morning we ate breakfast and sat by the Pacific to get a few more blog posts going and for Sam to call El Paso about his ticket and to write a letter to extend the court date (of course they told him to send it to the city prosecutor instead of the magistrate, so it wasn't the best use of his time).

Feeling very accomplished, we made a beeline for the forest. The first few visitor and information centers were closed, so we were grateful to finally find an open office to get some ideas for activities, campgrounds, and to get the coveted stamp. The ranger also showed us what Poison Oak looks like since we don't have that back east. We came away with big plans that worked out wonderfully.

First, we backtracked a ways and hopped down a trail to see the forks of the Smith River. The spot the ranger described was beautiful with the deep blue river that was cold and crystal clear.

Views: Del Norte County, CA by Samuel Herbig

The next stop was up to Stout Grove (tripadvisor!), where we knew we would see some hulking redwoods. We took our drawing supplies because it had been a really long time since we had done any art. What could be more inspiring?

We studied these ancient, enormous trees that seemed to survive so much and Sam explained that trying to understand the enormity of those trees was like trying to understand the structure of the universe. On paper you can write it down and have a rough idea, but when you really take it in, it's overwhelming because you can't see everything at once, only parts at a time. I hope I paraphrased that correctly.

We finally headed to Panther Flat campground for a lovely night of camping for only $15! So even though we spent a night in a hotel, we basically came out even on our sleeping costs in the Redwoods. Not shabby, eh?

Leaving the plan up to chance wasn't as stressful as I had imagined! We slept fairly well and the next day we were going to drive up to Oregon to see Crater Lake.

For a change, here's a Sam fun fact:

This has been the longest title of our roadtrip blog, weighing in at an astounding 64 characters! Way to go, girl!

categories Drive
tags California, Redwood, Forest, Pacific, Ocean, Camping, Beach, Smith River, Drive-Thru Tree

ORR LY?

May 31, 2014Samuel Herbig

Almost had to break out that macro lens I don't have

We weren't about to break a habit, so against our repeatedly expressed plans to get going early, we got up around 10-ish to head out a few hours later on towards our next goal.

And because Whitney and I have way too many things we try to keep track of, we absolutely still wanted to try to grab a stamp for our National Parks passport at the Golden Gate Bridge before. Interestingly, we were committed enough to beat Raina and Scott out the door, however we then thought the bridge toll we would have to pay (to get to the official visitor center) was just too much bear, which in the end really was a good thing because I got to drive a really windy road to the visitor center of the Golden Gate National Recreation Area, which we both agreed was "basically the same thing". Plus, we'd already gotten those awesome shots of the bridge from the spot Scott had taken us to earlier. Feeling quite like we had fulfilled our tourist duties we headed back to the highway.

I would like to add at this point that the Golden Gate National Recreation Area is indeed a mouthful. For a park (or "area") that seemed to have so much to offer just by driving through it for 20 minutes, surely a creative city such as San Francisco can come up with a slightly more engaging name!

We had chosen our highway carefully, because I think I'm speaking for both of us when I say that we like to drink wine. We're not experts on tasting wine, neither of us have a nose for fine wine, nor do we have the red noses to boot. We're like the vast majority of people who enjoy drinking wine every now and then and in the process have developed a couple of wines we tend to like. Grüner Veltliner or recently Temperanillo have been favorites for example. Even for total wine-label connoisseurs we know of the wine country and the their famous valleys, Napa and Sonoma. We also would like to distance ourselves from the words chosen by The Monads in "Mississippi Wine" and think that shampoo isn't, in fact, preferable to Napa valley wine (at last not in the majority of the cases . . . the pun may have been intended). That's an inside joke regarding a song on a mix CD we got from our friend Danny way back in Columbia, SC (yes, we went there). Scott may or may not have been a little sore that we sang that line with such gusto with him in the car the previous day.

After about 48 minutes (completely made up) of research last night and then another 27 minutes (definitely made up, too) of research over breakfast we decided to stop over at the Foppiano winery for a tasting. The price did play into the decision, not going to lie. When Whitney and I arrived, Scott and Raina were pulling in right behind us. Foppiano's seemed like a medium sized operation. Their tasting room was a 40 by 60 foot single room structure, perhaps a former barn with a simple bar and two wonderfully helpful ladies. It all for together pretty well if you ask me. It had a nice roll-up-your-sleeves kind of feel. Very unpretentious and I'm a sucker for that stuff.

Altogether, we tasted six or seven bottles. Two were okay, three I liked and another two were very tasty. You'll have to ask the others for more detailed info because I can't remember or better yet, just go and do it yourself. I think wine tasting is really more about the opportunity to drink a couple of different wines with a group of friends without having to pay restaurant prices. So no, I don't remember the names nor the types, but by the end we walked out with three bottles of wine.

We hopped back into our respective loan-mobiles and drove the last bit up to Orr Hot Springs. It's a very nice scenic drive up and down through switch backs over meadows and through the woods. Our pace on this tight two lane road must have been about average, because on one occasion a older driver let us pass, while at a another one I barely had time to complete a turn before some huge pick up truck blew passed us. I'm going to assume that he knew the roads better than us.

Walking up to the main gate of the Hot Springs

On Google maps, the Orr Hot Springs (fb!) is labeled as a resort. I have a certain preconceived hoity toity notion of what a resort is, but in this case the operation here was decidedly more granola than cruise ship. We were checked in and after quickly dropping our perishables off in the big (and organized!) communal kitchen went to check out our little fancy yurt.

This is almost voyeuristic . . . but it was so lovely inside

Up the hillside about 40 steps, our yurt was the top most yurt on the hill. It had a big bed, a sky light and right outside the door a tiny deck and two chairs. It was quiet, private and just in general a lovely setting for us to be able to relax and enjoy the time there.

After dropping our stuff off, our first priority was of course to check out the springs and pools area. The way the whole thing is set up is actually pretty neat. The bathing area is separated from the rest of the resort by two little bridges which lead across a stream and through a set of doors. There is then a changing room and outdoor showers before you get to the pools and sauna area. There are basically three areas: 1, a couple of small pools with hot water and a big cold water pool; 2, a steam room and a sauna; and 3, individual bath tubs in little rooms intended for one person at a time.

I had the impression that the facility catered somewhat more to women than it did to men, not in an unwelcoming way. No one was glaring at me for being a dude or anything. It just seemed that more women seemed to know and visit the springs. Since it's a clothing optional hot spring, I guess it's the type of experience that isn't for everyone. This also explains the lack of photos here. While we were there, Whitney and I recalled fondly the good I'll ol' times when she first came to Germany with me and my parents took us to Baden-Baden. If you know either of us personally, it's a fun story. (Whitney: it was one of the first times that I realized I can't look back and laugh at something unless I actually do it.)

After a quick soak, Whitney and I prepared dinner, in part because we felt guilty because the other two had been feasting and dining us the previous couple of days. So Pfannkuchen it was, though this time with gluten free (I think it was mainly rice based?) flour. Turned out pretty good, and after a couple of sweet ones, back to soaking it was.

Whitney adds: The kitchen had everything you would need, equipment and space-wise, to make an excellent meal. It was so great to be able to cook in a full kitchen. That experience rivaled the spa time as the highlight of our trip to Orr.

I would like to mention one more thing: as part of the setup, they had two tubs on an elevated deck outside. They called them the "stargazing" bathtubs and if I had my glasses with me I could have probably seen some nice formations. Then again, they would have probably fogged over.

Relaxed we fell asleep in our yurt, for what felt like an eternity.

Surprisingly then, we woke up about 8 hours later, which under consideration of what passes for "normal time", seems very reasonable. Whitney and I once again got busy in the kitchen for breakfast, and after another soak in the pools we wished our bon voyage our northern Californian travel companions and turned out wheels towards the Redwoods!

Whitney's facts & stats:
None, she was too busy luxuriating.

categories Diary
tags Golden Gate Recreation Area, Orr, Orr Hot Springs, Hot Springs, California, Wine Country, Tasting

A Post of Posts (and other humorous items)!

May 30, 2014Samuel Herbig

Hi there!

As you know, we're on a road trip. So it's a given that we spend hours upon hours in the car driving around and during all those hours sometimes I get bored and I start taking pictures. Sometimes I'm driving and then Whitney takes pictures. In any event, if you go to the flickr page we've actually created a album called "On the Road" that showcases all those pictures we've taken while the other one was driving.

The pictures in that album are the one's that we consider "pretty good" shots. The pictures that are not in there belong into the category "not good enough" or into the category of "wonderful, I meant to have a fence post right down the middle of that picture". We've been hard at work, so we're proud to present here for the very first time our new collection, tentatively titled: