Road Trip XI, Days 1-5: From Mossyland to Pricklyland, or, WA-OR-CA-AZ

Posted on February 25, 2022 by gretchenwing

We didn’t plan it that way, honest—but we picked a good time to hightail it south. Heading out from the Anacortes ferry terminal, we were surprised by snow.

But by the time we got to our friends’ home in Eugene, spring was already peeking out here and there.

Can I just take a moment to appreciate Eugene, Oregon? It was my gateway to the Pacific Northwest, way back in 1980, when The Boyfriend and I visited to watch the Olympic track trials. (We ran around town pretending we were American distance record-holders Frank Shorter and Mary Decker.) Since then I’ve grown accustomed to those magnificent, towering evergreens that embody the state of Washington. But one thing we don’t have are those irresistibly Middle-Earthy oak trees that, to me, define western Oregon.

And when the sun shines on the ferns and moss…oooh!

Because we’ve had bad experiences with icy passes on I-5 in southern Oregon, we opted to cut straight over to the coast at Florence. It was hard to bypass all those gorgeous hiking or picnicking spots, but we were on a bit of a schedule, so I had to make do with photos from the car. Oh, Highway 101, you are a temptress!

It’s called Humbug Mountain, and I really want to go back to it! Humbug.

Even though we might have chosen a brand-new trail, for a reliable 90-minute fast hike before dark, we returned like faithful spouses to our forever-favorite, the redwoods of Prairie Creek.

I was pleasantly surprised by the beautiful sunny day. Almost all my redwoods photos feature moisture! So I had to add to my collection.

OK, that’s enough! (note: Never enough redwood pics!)

It was, however, heading toward darkness and cold by the time we finished our hike, and we were eager to set ourselves up for a shorter drive next day, so we opted for a motel in Arcata—a town that feels like it’s struggling economically. Hang in there, Arcata.

In Oakland we got to spend the night with our cuzzies AND Son Two—bonus. Not pictured: yummy meal, youthful joy, domestic bliss, etc., etc.

For Day 4, still time-bound, we had to sacrifice our beloved Highway 101 for the delights of I-5 through the San Joaquin Valley. At least the almond trees were in bloom. In summer, this route is one of the few unattractive stretches of I-5.

Wish I could smell ’em! Grow, little almonds, grow!

Traffic into the city we’d sworn never to drive into was actually easy-peasy, as though LA were just playing with us. It was also sunny and 62–freezing cold for Angelenos, delightful for us—so we enjoyed a hike in Runyon Canyon before heading over to our other cousins (my side of the fam) for dinner.

These are the cousins whose generosity and 100 year-old avocado tree are responsible for the Sisterhood of the Traveling Avocados, which I’ve blogged about in past years. Nor did they disappoint in 2022. Not only did they have a sack of avos ready, in staggered stages of ripeness!!—my cousin Susi introduced me to her kumquat tree.

I’d never eaten a kumquat. But I made up for many years of kumquatlessness in a few minutes.

Not pictured: my mouth stuffed with those tart-sweet-bitter-zingy little Fruits of Amazingness

After spending the night at the home of another set of “far and dear” friends, we made the Big Left Turn and headed into the desert. Joshua Tree’s Cottonwood Campground was full…

…but we treated ourselves to a hike on one of our favorite (and most accessible) trails.

Our California friends reported a cold winter, and the desert seemed to agree: I saw almost nothing blooming.

Of course, ocotillos are pretty scenic even when not blooming.

There’s a reason “cactus-hugger” isn’t a phrase, even for folks who love cacti.

As I write this, The Mate and I have introduced our avocados to Buckeye, Arizona, in an overpriced motel on the outskirts of Phoenix.

It’s not exactly a destination city, but we crossed a lot of desert today, and staying here puts us that much closer to our happiest of happy places: Chiricahua National Monument. Coming soon to a travel blog near you!

Road Trip IX, Day 6-10, LA to Tucson: Climate Change And Other Extremes

Posted on February 22, 2019 by gretchenwing

THIS was our gateway to sunny SoCal, on I-5 South just above LA:

Tejon Pass. The northbound highway was closed.

Once there, in the city where my mom was born & raised, where my grandparents & uncle are buried, we holed up for a few days with my dear college housemate & her husband, visiting with them as well as some of my cousins AND a dear almost-sister of the Mate’s, Rhonda.

I’ve been to LA more times than I can count, since childhood. Since I can no longer visit my grandparents, this time I chose to notice contrasts and extremes. For example…LA is this:

Looking south from Will Rogers State Park

and this.

The LA River, with trees full of garbage and the former belongings of homeless people, flooded out

It’s the 100 year-old avocado tree whose fruit my wonderful cousins gifted us with

We got a whole bag full! Thanks, guys!

and it’s the Woolsey Fire, which spared Rhonda’s house (and chickens–a miracle) but destroyed the art studio where she and her late husband Alisha made and kept all their creations (she’s a metal artist; Alisha did glass).

That slab is all that’s left of the 2-storey studio.

Part of one of Alisha’s pieces that survived the fire

If you think about it, that fire from last November–California’s largest ever–is itself a symbol of extremes. Too much drought mixed with too many people = misery. It burned nearly 100,000 acres and over 16,000 structures…including these, Rhonda’s neighbors across the road:

I’d seen it on TV. But it’s so different when it’s all around you.

I can only hope these folks can recover their lives. Their mailbox has a personal note to “George,” their mailman.

Leaving LA for what we call The Big Left Turn to cross the rest of the continent, we made our recreational stop in one of our favorite, accessible national parks, Joshua Tree. The first set of trails is only 8 miles (but a world away) from the interstate.

We are so lucky to be able to walk so safely into the desert like this. Think of all the people for whom the desert means danger.

Since I have so many pictures of rocks, this time I focused on flowers.

These pool little golden poppies are too cold to open!

There were a lot of them! Ah, blessed spring.

Isn’t this gorgeous? Anyone know what it is?

But what’s up with those dark clouds?

Ocotillo cactus blossoming

Hmmm. Getting colder by the minute.

Last little blob of sunshine…

By the time the Mate took this, snowflakes had begun to fall.

Hurry up, my legs are freezing.

Let’s get out of here! Dropping back down to I-10, we left the white stuff behind…

…until next morning, driving into Tucson. Seriously?!

Seriously.

I don’t know if this is just Climate Change, or Nature’s way of reminding me I need to include “Snow Falling On Saguaro” in my photo gallery. I saw that, all right, but unfortunately I didn’t capture it…’cause I was too cold and wet to take off my gloves.

Sun’s supposed to come out tomorrow. It would be nice to have something non-extreme to notice for a change.

Road Trip V, Days 6-8, Bishop to Albuquerque: A Desert Buffet

Posted on February 28, 2015 by gretchenwing

Foodies, sorry–that’s “desert” with one “s.” You’ll have to try someone else’s blog for the caloric kind. I’m writing about dirt today.

We just spent a day and a night in Death Valley, where the dirt looks like this:

(Courtesy Wikipedia)

and this:

(Courtesy Wikipedia)

We were hoping for wildflowers, but a heat wave a couple of weeks ago seems to have sped them through their cycle too fast. We enjoyed a few glimpses of yellow and purple, but most of the color came from…dirt.

The cool thing about America’s deserts, though, is that they come in infinite variety. You may be familiar with the red-rock areas like Arches and Grand Canyon; we are, which is one reason we didn’t route ourselves that way this year.

Sorry, Zion, not this year!

Instead we found ourselves discovering little patches of Amazing, like the tiny tip of Nevada where we saw Joshua Trees and wild burros,

(Courtesy Wikimedia)

or the western edge of New Mexico, where the earth seems to have neglected to clean up the results of a brief spell of vomit:

(Courtesy Wikimedia)

Of course, this being the weirdest US weather year in recent history, everything we saw while pulling into Albuquerque was covered in snow, and I was too chilled to stop and take pictures. But I think I’ve made my point for now, which is that we Americans are SO lucky!! We don’t have our just deserts–we have a whole glorious smorgasbord of sand and dirt and rock to choose from.

So the next time you feel deserted? Think about it–is that really such a bad thing to be?