Day 27 - Pullman, WA to Craters of the Moon, ID

Elevation = 5900 ft

Song of the Day = “De Do Do Do” by the Police

The next morning, I awake, chastened with a hangover. Thanks Stern, for offering up your bed (I know that you said that you were all excited to sleep on the couch, but seriously, I could have slept there. And, thanks for the dinner and drinks and all around good time!) I have to decline breakfast given that today will be a long drive. The international crowd heads off for brunch, and I, with a light heart but heavy stomach, head to Idaho. I head out of the Palouse south on 195. The hills slowly peter out, ending in a huge bluff overlooking the town of Lewiston (and its neighbor, Clarkston. Someone got all original when naming them!) 

Overlooking the town of Lewiston from 195

The highway descends steeply down the cliffs, and I roll onto 95 South across the Nez Pierce Indian Reservation. The road slowly winds along a wide open valley, and at Grangeville enters a long valley through the West Mountains. The sky is a deep liquid blue – looks as if a huge blue bowl has been upended over the earth. As the road follows the Salmon River through the mountains, the view only gets better and better. Heavily forested slopes rear straight up from the picturesque river as it tumbles over huge rapids (looking forward to rafting in a few weeks!) Let me just say that the drive along Rt 95 is one of the most incredible yet. 

Heading down 95 towards the Salmon River

In the tiny town of Riggins, I stop for some lunch at the River Rock Café. The menu features their “famous stuffed sandwiches” – which are kind of like calzones, but with more deli-like ingredients. What’s more interesting is that the stuffed sandwiches are named after various holes. That’s right, I said holes. I giggle to myself for a few minutes (after all, I am mentally a 12 year old) before realizing that they are named after various local fishing holes and not, uh, other holes. I spent the next 5 minutes coming up with new names and combinations (The Butthole – meatballs, corn and brown gravy; The Pink Hole – sausage, salami and ricotta cheese; The Flaming Asshole – chopped hot salami, jalapenos, buffalo sauce). I opt for the Glory Hole (hehehehe) which is amazingly delicious (hehehe) and read the Riggins newspaper. It’s full of information and reflection on the upcoming Rodeo Days and stats on the annual salmon run, with the sort of charming typos and hilarious ads that can only be found in a small town newspaper.

In the tiny town of Meadows, I head east on Rt 55, which climbs steeply up to the base of Brundage Mountain ski area and the resort town of McCall. Despite the cold air, dozens of people at strolling through the boutiques and upscale shops. The road winds along the mountains before dropping down into Boise. What to do? Stop here for the night or push on to Craters of the Moon? It’s almost 5pm, and I still have a long ways to go. Ah, screw it. Keep going. 

I catch I-84 south out of town (after restocking the supplies in Eagle) to Rt 20 east across the Snake River Plain. I’ve never been to Idaho before, so this area comes as a bit of a surprise. It’s a vast, flat basin, with the Sawtooth Mountains to the north and the Albion Mountains to the south. Rt 20 follows the Snake River. As the light fades, the plains take on an almost purple color. A herd of pronghorn antelope cross the road in front of me, shimmying under the low fence instead of leaping over it. “Well, what a stupid bunch of antelope” I mutter as they bound off. 

Views along Rt 20 across the Snake River Plain

Then, abruptly, the landscape changes. It looks as if the world’s largest moles have been at work. Everywhere are great mounds of black, with a few plants clinging to life in the crevices of the rocks. Everywhere are huge craters. As far as the eye can see are enormous piles of black rock. It is so alien compared to the lushness of the plains. And perhaps a bit ugly. It appears that I have reached Craters of the Moon. I pull through the entrance station and into the campground, with cleared areas of black gravel set amongst the huge piles of rock. The campground is small and is only 1/3 full. I find a site surrounded on 3 sides by rock and purchase two nights ($10 per night – running water near each campsite, flush toilets, no showers, no fires allowed). The sun has long set, but the full moon illuminates the black rocks surrounding each campsite. I quickly set up camp and grill some dinner to the delight of the mice living in the rock crevices around the camp. One enterprising fellow tries to leap from the top of a rock onto the top of the picnic table but fails (sucka!).  We’ll have to see what this place is all about in the morning.

Out of Order...

So several days appear to have been deleted... luckily I save back-up copies in Word, so I re-posted them. Here are the missing days - 11 (Phoenix to TwentyNine Palms) and 13 (Joshua Tree Day 2)
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Day 13 - Joshua Tree continued

Miles hiked = 5.0

Elevation = 3000 ft



I awake to the sounds of bees humming in the creosote bush and a blue, blue sky (left the entire tent unzipped last night... basically sleeping in a mesh enclosure). A hummingbird hovers overhead. Oh, happy day! Good morning!



I head back to the Oasis Visitor Center for another hiking recommendation. Dave is there again, and seems thrilled that I enjoyed Split Rock Loop so much. He recommends the Lost Horse Mine hike, and then asks if I would be interested in a ranger guided tour of Keys Ranch. "It's really neat - the whole operation is still standing, and as of now, there is no one else booked for the 1pm tour." Sold, and for only $5 I have a private tour.



Unfortunately, the clouds are moving in and the wind has picked up (according to the Visitor's Guide, average May precipitation is 0.06 inches). I reflect that I left my waterproofs back at camp, and didn't put up the rain fly. Oh well. Lost Horse Mine is a 4 mile out and back trail (with an optional 6.2mi loop) up to the mine. The prospector who owned it lived here alone until the 1930's. After no one had seen him for a spell, they came out to the mine and found him dead. Huh. That's kind of... depressing. At least he didn't own cats who ate his face.

Lost Horse Mine Trail

Fields of blooming Nolina

Lost Horse Mine

Blooming cacti

For some perspective, me standing next to a blooming plant. It's almost 10 feet tall.

Anyway, the trail climbs through valleys of blooming Nolina, and up to the mine. The views are amazing, especially from the top of Lost Horse Peak above the mine. However, the temperature is dropping fast and it's getting REALLY windy. I don't want to be late for the tour of Keys Ranch, and head back down.

Look very very very closely... mojave rattlesnake!

The Keys' Home. After 17 years of marriage, he finally got around to building his wife a kitchen.

Now coming to Hoarders...

At the locked gate heading into the ranch, there are 2 other people waiting - a couple who are teachers at middle schools in Apple Valley, CA. We chat for a few minutes, then meet Ranger Pat for the tour. He takes us past the gate and up to the old schoolhouse. He seems very pleased to only have 3 people. "Boy, it's getting late in the season! Fewer and fewer people are coming, course, we shut down for the summer soon. Too damn hot." Pat has been stationed at multiple parks, the most recent being in Hawaii. He doesn't seemed as thrilled with J Tree, ("Too damn dry. Sometimes we get down to 2% humidity.") However, he does seem very excited about the acting (?) he gets to do during their interpretive tours. "I get to play a a grumpy old man who has a bad leg, and I get to use a cane and talk about living on the Keys Ranch!" He gets very animated when talking about his role. Personally, I find historical re-enactment a little creepy, but I keep that to myself. The old ranch is very interesting, especially since it is left just as it was the day Mrs. Keys died, with implements strewn everywhere (I think they might have been able to star in a very special episode of "Hoarders").



After the tour, I head back to Keys View, which overlooks Palm Springs to the southeast. You can't see anything. In fact, the sign says (in large font), "What's wrong with this picture? SMOG!". You can actually banks of smog rolling through the San Gorgino Pass from LA. It's kind of gross. However, you can also see the San Andreas Fault in the middle distance, which is much cooler.

See that brown cloud to the right. Smog. Or smug, not sure which.

This is as focused as it gets... the smog causes haze in the valley below.

The wind has picked up even more (is there a word for really, really windy? 'Cause if so, insert it here.) I return to the camp, and realize that every other campsite on my turnout is vacant. Cool! As I walk around, I realize that the ENTIRE campground (at least from the entrance road to my side of the camp) is vacant. I am completely alone in the desert. "This is great!!!!"; I am thrilled. I take a shower (oh Solar Shower, I love you) under the desert sky, and attempt to cook dinner in the wind. The only reason why Campsite 10, Indian Cove will not be my absolute favorite site ever is because the rock formations funnel the wind right through the area. It's getting even more windy (50-60 mph gusts, according to the weather radio). I worry about being alone briefly, but there are no wolves, bears, mountain lions, or other large predators to kill me. A rattlesnake might incapacitate me, but I could still get to help.



Unfortunately, the wind is rattling the tent so badly that I wake up every 5 minutes. After 2 hours, I say "fuck it" and pissed-offedly crawl into the car to sleep. Fuck this noise.

Day 11 - Phoenix to Twentynine Palms: The Real Desert Drive

Mileage = ? Forgot to start the odometer

Elevation = 1900 ft

Song of the Day = "Peaceful Easy Feeling" by The Eagles

For starters, I’d like to thank J and Raegan for letting me muss their sheets and towels, swim in their pool, do loads of laundry, love on their dogs and cats, and track dirt all over their house. Thanks guys… you rock!

I have a hole in the schedule today, and lots of options. They are: 1) Head down to Sonoran Park for a visit. Pros: More cacti. It’s relatively close. Cons: It’s over 100F and I’m less thrilled about that. 2) Head northeast to Payson and the Mogollon Rim. Pros: Quiet forests, cool, relatively unvisited. Cons: It’s east, in the wrong direction. 3) Head back north to Jerome and Woodchute Mountain. Pros: In the semi-right direction. Cons: If Sedona can be used for comparison, it’s likely full of jerks. 4) Head southeast to “The Thing!” (Travis Nick, I am so excited about this!). Pros: I love tacky road-side attractions! Cons: It’s in the opposite direction of where I need to go, ways out of the way, and will likely be closed by the time I get there. 5) Head to Lake Havasu on the AZ-CA border, chill for the night, head early to Joshua Tree tomorrow.

I mull this over while sitting in the parking lot of Los Favoritos (came back for the chorizo breakfast burrito… YUM! If you are ever in Scottsdale, go there. It’s in a strip mall next to the vacant Auto Parts store off McDonald Ave.) I decide on option 5, and roll west on Rt 60 out of town through the never-ending suburban sprawl of Phoenix. At the tiny town of Wickenburg, the road makes a jog to the left and continues on across true Sonoran desert.

Desert outside of Wickenburg

Not really sure what kind of cactus this is... but it looks cool.

I stop frequently to check out some of the plants (which may or may not have been dangerous), and coast through the tiny towns of Aquila and Wenden (The sign reads: Wenden AZ, population 295 friendly people and 3 (here the 3 is crossed out) 5 grumps). The landscape is even more desolate and stark. The number of plants slowly dwindles as I head northwest on Rt 72, then Rt 95 towards the tiny town of Parker.

Ah iz Saguaro

This one's for you, JD.

Parker is located in the Colorado River Indian Reservation (cheap gas and booze – no taxes here!), and I can head north to Lake Havasu from here. However, one look at the long line of trucks hitched with cigarette boats convinces me not to, so I decide to head to the tiny town of Twentynine Palms on the outskirts of Joshua Tree.

Route 62 takes me across uninhabited desert. Real desert. There isn’t a soul around, and the road undulates over the sands. In most places, the road builders would have blasted through or filled in the dunes to make a level path, but in this heat, I’m sure they just said “Ah, screw it” and built the road to follow the natural landscape. A sign reads “DIPS – next 10 miles”. “Story of my life”, I cheerfully reply, and let out a loud “WHEEEEEEEE!!!!!!” as I fly over each hill. 

Desert along 62 East - there is NO ONE, no buildings, no nothing in sight!

Once in Twentynine Palms, I carefully choose a motel, El Rancho Dolores. It’s one of those 50’s era places, with individual ranchettes built around a central courtyard (largest swimming pool in 29 Palms!) and doors opening directly onto your parking spot. The bathrooms have the original tile – it’s perfect! The nice manager recommends a good Mexican restaurant within walking distance, Edchada’s. It’s Friday night, and the bar is filled with Marines from the base just north of town. I enjoy margaritas, chimichangas, and somewhat stilted conversation with a very shy recruit named Zuke (Huh? Going to assume this is a nickname) from Atlanta. The walk back to the motel is quiet and the stars are amazing.

Day 26 - Crescent Bar/Bend/whatever to Pullman, WA

Elevation = 2352 ft

Song of the Day = “The Humpty Dance” by Digital Underground

Considering that I only have a few hours to drive today, I manage to sleep in (almost 9AM, gasp!). Last night was weird… the entire RV park is heavily fenced, so I didn’t hear any late night animal rustling. And there was a pump station near the tent, so all I could hear was a mechanical droning (better than any white noise machine). I am invited to no less than four breakfasts – turns out that all of the senior citizen RV’ers want to entertain the “poor camper”. In the end, I join Glen and Chris (and their cat, Kitty) in their very fancy RV for eggs, waffles and bacon. They are originally from Dayton, Ohio, but sold their house when they retired and now travel permanently. Sounds good to me!

View from Crescent Bar Resort, campsite 74

The Columbia River

I drive down 28 to Quincy, drop down 281 south to I-90 East (only for a few miles), then catch 17 south to 26 East towards Pullman. The road travels through the Palouse, a series of rolling large hills? Small mountains? Foothills? I’m not really sure what to call them, but the drive is absolutely beautiful… and very different. After days of coastlines, rocky beaches, red rock cliffs, canyonlands, desert and mountains, this is something entirely different. It’s like a souped-up version of eastern Iowa (don’t laugh, eastern Iowa is very pretty). The driving is stupendous, the views are incredible, and I… don’t take any pictures. I guess that I’m just enjoying it too much.

No, I didn't take this... but this is what the Palouse looks like. It's real pretty.

I end up in Colfax, just north of Pullman at lunchtime. After careful consideration, I have lunch at the Top Notch Café, which serves the most incredible milkshakes and onion rings (yum!) Then it’s off to Pullman, to WSU, a nice stroll around the picturesque campus, a meeting with JStern, a tour of the hospital and… off to a coffee shop named the Daily Grind to do work (sad face).

Later, the international crowd meets up at Josh’s house for a delicious dinner cooked by Kiara (it was fabulous!!! Thank you!!!) and later to a bar named, somewhat appropriately, “My Office”. As in, “Honey, I have to go to my office for a bit. Don’t wait up!” And in the wee hours of the morning… we return from My Office. Let me just say, that bartender was one of the best enablers that I have ever met (and that includes Big Chris). Mirror Pond, I think that you and I are now BFFs.

Day 25 - Olympic NP to Crescent Bar, WA

Elevation = 780 ft (was 4,036 ft at Stevens Pass)

Song of the Day = “Breakaway” by Kelly Clarkston (embarrassing but true)

This morning I have a mission… to pick up Twilight merchandise in Forks. (If you’ve never read the Twilight series, it’s based in Forks, WA). Everyone in town seems to be cashing in on the Twilight craze. There are stores named “Native to Twilight”, “Twilight Central”, “Twilight Headquarters”, and “Dazzled by Twilight”. One hotel has a sign that reads “Edward didn’t sleep here!” and another has a sign reading “Welcome to the Twilight Zone”. Even the grocery store has a Twilight merchandise section. I stop at Twilight Central to fill up on souvenirs for Mary and Amber (and get a Team Jacob magnet for myself – I mean seriously? Taylor Lautner vs RPats? How is this even a contest?), fill up on supplies at the grocery store, and then over to the Forks Post Office to mail my Twilight postcards.

I follow 101 North, passing gorgeous Lake Crescent. 

Views of Lake Crescent along 101 East

More Lake Crescent

I get out of the car and take a long walk partway around the lake, and continue on into the town of Port Angeles. It’s time for lunch, so I head to the Peaks Brewery. It look like a dive from the outside (and the inside), and the menu has three items on it (chili, chili dog, chili cheeseburger). The chili is made by the owner/bartender/brewer, and is pretty good and very spicy. The beer (I had the ESB) is AMAZING. I would give my left tit to be able to brew like this. It is, honestly, one of the best beers I have ever had in my entire life. Peaks Brewery, Port Angeles. Check it out.

Peaks Brewpub, Port Angeles

For the first time in over a week, I say goodbye to 101, and head east on 104 through Port Gamble (what an adorable little town) to Kingston. There, I catch the car ferry to Edmonds. I have to admit, I’ve never driven a car onto a ferry and I’m kind of excited about the whole thing. The Focus is too, I can tell.  I arrive just in time for the 3:10 sailing, pay my $15.20, and line up with the other cars.  When the time comes, we drive down a ramp, and then are directed to our spot. The entire thing is extremely organized and goes off without a problem (probably because the other people have done this a million times and are secretly laughing at the idiot with Ohio plates taking pictures of her car). I stroll around the ferry, enjoying the view and taking more pictures. What’s super weird is sitting in your car. You can see that you’re moving, but you aren’t touching the wheel or any pedals and the car is off. It really does feel a bit odd.

On the ferry and ready to go!

View of Seattle with Mt. Rainier in the background

Hello Cascades!

Goodbye, Olympics!

Once in Edmonds, I navigate Rt 524 to I-5 North, which has very heavy traffic at this time of day. I am relieved to exit onto Rt 2 towards the Cascades. The traffic slowly peels off through Snohomish and Sultan. I head up and over the Cascades, noting that snow is still firmly entrenched here. I had originally planned on camping here tonight (or making it to Pullman), but I don’t think either is going to happen. I drop down the Cascades over Stevens Pass, and into another world.

What do you think of when you think of Washington State? Forests, oceans, mountains? How about a Mediterranean looking landscape complete with cliffs and buttes ala southern Utah? Well, that’s how the eastern slope of the Cascades looks. In the city of Wenatchee I start looking for a hotel. The entire city seems to be one charmless, never-ending string of strip malls, and I continue down 28, following the Columbia River. My needs for a hotel aren’t difficult… it must be locally owned (no chains), and I prefer those 1960s-era places with the little individual cottages around a central courtyard. I pass nothing of the sort as I continue on toward Quincy. The sun is starting to go down as I pass a tiny city clustered far below Rt 28 in a bend in the river. It’s a beautiful spot. I hastily exit, and drive down a cliff towards Crescent Bar (it’s not even on my road atlas). There aren’t any hotels, but there is an RV park. I find out later that the entire city is one very large privately owned resort.

No, I didn't take this picture, but this is what Crescent Bar resort looks like.

After rousing the attendant, I get a spot right on the river for a staggering $52 (yikes! I just want to camp, not purchase the lot!!). It turns out that a tent is a bit of an oddity here… a group of senior citizens gathers to watch me set it up and asks tons of questions. “What is that yellow doo-hickey?” “That’s the rain fly – keeps the rain out.” “But it’s not supposed to rain tonight.” “True, but there’s nothing worse than chancing it and being wrong. Besides, it’s warmer in the tent with it on”. “That tent isn’t heated?” “Ummmm…. No, sir. It’s not”. I drink the last of my Boont Amber Ale and for $52, I will use every amenity here. I swim in the pool, sit in the hot tub, and use the nice, hot showers.