roadtrek | Wing's World

Here’s the thing: I ended my last post with a promise to get back to work on my novel.

Here’s the other thing: I did just that. Which is why that last post was almost a month ago.

Which is why I find myself with a teensy dilemma: use my limited non-novel writing time to blog the easy way–basically just “Look at my travel pics, now with witty commentary!”–or do I use this medium to deal more thoughtfully with current events or Big Ideas?

Then this thought occurred to me: the back-to-back camping trips I most recently took might function as a metaphor for this dilemma of the comfortable, “look, pretty!” vs. the more weight-bearing “let’s think about something” blog post.

Trip One, with The Mate, involved Campering in Vanna Grey.

Vanna, meet Silver Springs Campground, at the base of Mt. Rainier!

Silver Springs Campground proved to be more than hyperbole, as we found this large and yes, silvery spring springing straight out of the mountainside above our campsite.

We also got an up-close view of where the White River got its name, as some overflow met the clear water of the springs.

On your right, ladies & gentlemen: the White River.

But…you see what I’m doing here? I’m narrating pretty travel pictures. How easy, how convenient! Just like Vanna Grey. Drive, park–congratulations, you’ve arrived. Nothing much to think about.

And this view? We just drove up here. Twice. Because we could.

Don’t get me wrong: I’m not saying campering is shallow. Beauty abounds, even from a camper, and beauty is moving.

What I am saying…I think…is that campering, by dint of being so easy, does not tap into the kind of thoughts that spring from having one’s body fully committed. Yes, we went on some fabulous day hikes, which made me think about stuff like…

…why do I insist on making The Mate take my picture with flowers all the time?

…or even ponder the impact of global warming on the nose of a glacier…

Oh dear…pretty sure last time we were here, the ice reached all the way to that gravelly wall 😦

But putting your entire camp + food on your back and humping it up a pass, as I did with my Ironwoman Goddaughter Allison…

…who, lucky for me, takes even more pictures that I do!

…that kind of effort delves into a whole different level of thought. (Which does indeed feature a good deal of “what’s for dinner?”)

Why is this? I wonder. Is it that being away from vehicles leads to deeper, more stripped-down conversation?

Hayes Lake, near Kulshan (Mt. Baker). Allison pumping water in the background

Is it the braggadocious joy of thinking “I got myself to this beautiful place!”?

…where your Ironman T-shirt matches the wildflowers?

Is it the relative quiet of roadlessness that allows one to sink more deeply into the stark reality of melting glaciers?

…which still look so stinkin’ pretty as they melt

It’s not like you can’t see cute animals while campering.

Of course, it IS true that some wild animals are generally further out of reach than others. We were actually pretty shocked to meet this many mountain goats only a few miles away from the Mt. Baker ski area parking lot.

But generally speaking, while I spent nearly equal time campering as backpacking a couple weeks ago, the backpacking trip felt more CONSEQUENTIAL.

Meaningful. Harder but more rewarding.

Yes, this patch of paintbrush was easily accessible from the parking lot…

Now, August is coming to a close, and so, for me, is backpacking season. Because we now own Vanna Grey, The Mate and I will continue to “camper” as the weather turns harsher.

Hopefully with occasional vistas like this of Mt. Shuksan. Look carefully: you can actually see the road & parking lot in the background!

But as the political season enters its autumnal stretch, I feel the need to use this blog for more than showing off trip pictures. (Even though I LOVE showing off trip pictures.)

So much is happening in this country. So much to think about, talk about, work for. What joy to throw some of that in my blog-pack and see where we end up. See you down the trail!

Note/warning: my WordPress stats inform me that this post I’m writing will be # 666. Here’s hoping nothing dire happens when I hit publish. Or maybe you should just stop reading now.

Still here? High-5! (and thank you, SF’s Golden Gate Park)

Road Trip XII got off to a rocky start. How rocky? Try broken emergency brake release lever…in the ferry line…in the dark…in the rain. That’s all you need to know. That, and the fact that wonderful Lopez supplied enough community magic to get Vanna Grey unstuck and off the island, eventually.

And we were off. Thanks to an appointment with our Darling Dentist of 30+ years, Dr. Norooz in Tacoma, we didn’t aim ourselves further than southern WA for our very first night of RV camping. Specifically: Paradise Point State Park.

A tad hyperbolic, the name, but the E. Fork of the Lewis River was pretty.

Because it was our First Meal in Vanna…

The stuff in the ziplock? Homemade bacon from Lopez piggies!

…I had to capture it for posterity:

Could I have cooked this outside? Yes I could. But not comfortably.

I won’t go into much detail about our RV learning curve: it exists! But I think talking about it might be pretty boring, except maybe to other RVers. Suffice to say I’m already surfing the blogosphere of other Roadtrek owners to answer my gazillions of questions, trying not to overburden our kind sellers by asking THEM. But this is a travel blog, so I prefer to focus on the places, not the transport. I covered that topic last post!

Next day it RAINED. ALL DAY. We took it slow, not expecting to get further than Crescent City, and we didn’t. The federal/state Redwood Park campsites were either closed or full, so I had reserved us a site at my very first KOA.

I call this “KOA Sunrise.” Because that’s what it is.

So far, so good. Vanna’s doing fine; we’re learning the art of downshifting on steeper hills without causing terrible grinding sounds. But really, all we’re longing for is…

Redwoods are why we road-trip. Also waterfalls, cliffs, crags, hoodoos, flowers…you get the idea. But just stepping into the forest at Prairie Creek (between Crescent City and Eureka, CA) is–well, it’s all we need.

They don’t even have to be fully alive redwoods! Except they all are.

In that place, even the non-redwoods assume some extra glory:

To be fair: you don’t need to go to CA to see maples like these; WA & OR have their share.

Fully soaked with beauty, we persevered on through several hours of truly HORRENDOUS rain and wind, including a scary crossing of the Golden Gate Bridge, to San Francisco and the current home of Son Two.

Amazingly, Son Two found us parking on his street along the Panhandle of GG Park…just three spaces up from our old baby, Red Rover the Subaru! Awww…

Immediately, it was damn the raindrops, full speed ahead! to get a speedwalk in Golden Gate Park, shedding the tension of all those driving hours.

Nothing like a little Street Whale to reduce tension! (Or Street Narwhal maybe?)

That park is such a blessing. I didn’t photograph the Great Blue Heron I took for a statue before it flew, but I did capture this guy trotting across the street:

This being San Francisco, I had to take a picture of a driverless car, because, really, can you think of an easier, flatter, more open city than SF to experiment with one of these?

This morning we left SF (once more in driving rain) for points south, and as I’m writing this (Post #666) I can affirm that the sun DID come out, and we DID receive its rainbow promise. But it was a pale version of this Tree of Light in the park near Son Two’s house:

a video does it more justice–google it and see!

Tomorrow we hope to meet the desert, with some REAL sun. But for now, on behalf of California, I’d just like to say: you know what? THANK YOU for all that rain. It was awful to drive through. But knowing what it means, we’ll take it any day.

See you in the desert!