Migrating Southward - 2013

We’ve been in travel mode for several weeks now as we wend our way southward from the chilly damp climate of Oregon to the toasty dry warmth of Arizona.  This is what constitutes “hurrying” for us, moving around 150 miles per day every other day or so, seeing what there is to see along the way, experiencing new areas of the country or noticing what we might have missed on the first go-round.

While we were in Oregon we couldn’t help but notice an unusual number of homeless people, soliciting funds on street corners or hitchhiking.  Their signs proclaimed poverty, homelessness, a need for food or money.  But some were downright humorous – one fellow’s sign announced that his wife was being held for ransom and he needed 75 cents for her release.  Another sign flatly announced that money was needed for beer.  Many of these people had positioned themselves near shops and stores which displayed “help wanted” signs in the windows and we were left wondering what invisible barrier kept the two placard bearers apart.

It was raining as we left Neskowin and swept up and over the Coastal Range for another two-day stop in Albany.  The rain persisted and we spent our one idle day on a dash up to the outlet mall at Woodburn to purchase a glorified boom-box on which to play our vast collection of CDs.  The rain continued off and on for the next leg of the trip, up and over the Cascades and into Redmond.  The route took us along the Santiam River and over Santiam Pass then down into the quaint little tourist trap town of Sisters.  Sisters has previously been known for its traffic jams but some new roads have improved the situation greatly and we were soon settled in at our campground at the Deschutes County Fairgrounds. 

Our stay in Redmond was blessed with a little more sunshine than we’d come to expect but the temperature was showing signs of oncoming winter and the Three Sisters (Faith, Hope and Charity) in the Cascades were draped in a fair amount of snow, not just at the peaks but well down the slopes.  Several of the local RV dealers were having a sale and so we spent most of our one free day kicking tires on a variety of vehicles.  We did not kick anything we liked better than what we already have.  It’s pretty evident we haven’t wrapped our heads around the idea of “down-sizing” yet.  Everything except the “40 foot shopping carts” seemed a bit cramped.

The next leg of the journey took us south to LaPine and then southeast on the diagonal in the direction of Lakeview.  Or, as our GPS calls it, La Key View.  This was a new section of Oregon for us and we marveled yet again how diverse the terrain is in that state.  Once we left the dwarfed greenery of Deschutes National Forest, there was an immediate scarcity of plant life and we found ourselves in what is known as The Oregon Outback.  Towns are few and far between and there are several enormous dry lakebeds.  The campground I’d selected for our three-day stay was located ten miles west of town on the road to Klamath Falls.  It was situated in the middle of an 8000 acre cattle ranch with a view of the Warner Mountains and of Juniper Reservoir.  The weather was quite nice when we arrived, sunny but cool, and we were able to sit outside and enjoy the total quiet (except for moo-ing cows) of this rustic area. 

Overnight the weather turned nasty, the outer edge of a severe storm along the coast, which resulted mostly in strong winds and clouds but not much rain.  Going into town didn’t seem like that good an idea so we sat tight all day Saturday, amusing ourselves by watching first the black cows and then the brown cows.  The highlight of the day was observing a pair of hawks squabbling over some tasty rodent, followed by the antics of two coyotes off in the distance.  At least we think they were coyotes.  By evening the wind had picked up even more and the rain came down in earnest and kept up the pace all day on Sunday, by which time we were mumbling to ourselves and succumbing to a good case of cabin fever.  A trip into town on Sunday to buy a newspaper broke up the monotony somewhat and gave us an opportunity to see what we’d missed in Lakeview.  Not much, as it turns out.

It was still breezy on Monday when we departed to continue the southward route, this time with the city of Susanville, California in our sights.  The road took us along the shores of Goose Lake which showed big and blue on the GPS screen but in reality had cattle grazing on it.  Again, towns were small and very far apart so we were happy to find that Susanville is quite the robust community with a variety of stores and to discover our campground was exceptionally nice and came complete with cable t.v. and Wi-Fi.  These little perks may not seem like much in the over-all scheme of things but they become huge when one is suffering from a certain degree of sensory deprivation.

On Day Two of our stop-over we happened upon the Lassen County Historical Museum, an attractive and welcoming log building located near Roop’s Fort, the town’s original shopping plaza.  We were surprised to find the museum open on a Tuesday and walked in to find a group of four people sitting in a circle in the reception area.  We thought we’d stumbled into a meeting of some sort but as it turns out it was just an impromptu gathering of some of the museum’s volunteers, sitting around an imaginary cracker barrel and solving the world’s (or at least the museum’s) problems.  Chairs were immediately pulled up and we were invited to join the conversation.  Most of the volunteers have roots which go deep into the history of the area, their ancestors having arrived via the Nobles or Lassen Emigrant Trails from various places “back East”.

As it turned out, we were so engrossed in conversation that we almost forgot to check out the museum’s collection.  Susan, the Board’s secretary, showed us around some of the displays and it quickly became apparent that she relishes careful study of the artifacts displayed.  You can only begin to imagine the stories behind some of the items.  There was a wooden leg, complete with an awkward and heavy-looking articulated metal “knee”.  It was found out in the high desert along the Nobles trail.  Who did it belong to and how did it come to be left behind?  Those questions are likely to remain unanswered but it’s fun to contemplate the possible answers and to once again marvel at the fortitude of the pioneers.    All of the items in the museum were nicely labeled and well-presented with only a portion of the collection being displayed at any one time so as not to overwhelm the visitor.  Susanville is lucky to have such a nice facility and even luckier to have a dedicated group of volunteers to keep it vibrant.

One of these days we’ve got to do a better job of exploring Reno, Nevada.  But this wasn’t the time.  We made a brief stop in the nearby town of Fernley, did some shopping and hit the road again.  If you look at a map of the state of Nevada you will notice that there isn’t an abundance of roads to choose from.  If U.S. 50 can bill itself as “the loneliest highway in America” then we don’t know what U.S. 95 can call itself.  Not only is there a shortage of towns along the route from Fallon southward, there’s a distinct lack of scenery.  The terrain is all the shades of brown you can imagine, a curve in the road is cause for big excitement and the spotting of another vehicle cause for celebration.  It would be a good place to bury toxic waste….hey, wait, they do!

The road is so long and so dull that stops at Mina and Beatty were required just to alleviate the boredom.  Mina is a wide spot in the road, a place where folks go who want to ride around in the desert on ATVs or quads or whatever those waspy little things are called.  Metal detecting is also big entertainment.  We did drive to town on Saturday and discovered this quirky bit of architecture.  There must be an explanation.

Rarely do we just spend one night in a place but we’ve explored Beatty (and its suburb, Rhyolite) on previous occasions so we made a quick stop-over and headed into Pahrump the next day.  Pahrump must be one of the biggest cities in Nevada, not in terms of population but in square footage.  It’s sprawled all over the place.  Pahrump was enjoying a boom-town phase when the housing crisis developed and so the blank spots between housing tracts never quite got filled in, leaving miles of desert between “settlements”.  It’s a city of enormous contrasts:  there are lots of churches, lots of brothels and lots of casinos, along with a lot of pawn shops.  There are a couple of supermarkets where you can give the slots a whirl before you buy bread and milk. 

While in Pahrump we discovered that fellow Full Timers Roy and Jackie were parked only a few spaces away from us.  They were attending an FMCA chapter rally which occupied most of the period when our stays overlapped but we were able to get together for a tasty chili rellenos dinner at their newly remodeled coach before going our separate ways.  We had scheduled annual maintenance on the coach during our stay.  And, RVs being RVs, the simple oil change and annual check-up turned  into a major expense and resulted in having to unhook and move to the repair facility twice instead of the once we’d planned on.

To get from Pahrump to Bullhead City, Arizona requires a route around Las Vegas where traffic can be pretty heavy.  But once around Sin City,  we had sunny skies and only a modest breeze for the trek.  So all we had to contend with was the monumental boredom of driving through miles and miles of plug ugly.  Granted, brown is a color but not one of the prettier ones.  No sooner had we settled ourselves on a hilltop overlooking the Colorado River and the city of Laughlin, Nevada when a heavy breeze sprang up putting an end to the notion of sitting on the patio with a good book.  We have our fingers crossed that the wind will die down before we make the 200-mile mad dash back to Geezer Gulch.

The next report will be from our base station, Milepost Zero.