Author: danleeth

Sol Duc

Wednesday, it was back on the road heading up the western side of the Olympic Peninsula. Clouds covered the sky and raindrops covered the windscreen. Other than topping up the gas tank, we made only one major stop on our way north. That stop was at Ruby Beach where hillside trees framed the surf below.

Our destination for the night was Sol Duc Hot Springs resort in Olympic National Park. There’s no TV out here, no wifi and no cell phone coverage. My kind of place!

We arrived just in time for lunch. In the lodge restaurant, we each ordered, yes, another bowl of clam chowder. After a short delay, we checked into our cabin for the night (actually two nights)…

…clean, comfortable and perfect for a well-deserved rest break.

Now, I normally love soaking in hot springs, but these didn’t interest me. I like the ones in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nature. Soaking in concrete tubs of hot water like these are like just soaking in concrete tubs of hot water. Dianne loved them, however, and spent several hours simmering in the hot, sulfuric water.

On Thursday, we finally got to put on our hiking boots and hit the trail. Our objective was Sol Duc Falls, a seven-mile roundtrip hike from the lodge parking lot. It would be a loop trip, the first three+ miles being on the Lover’s Lane Trail where we brought nary a pet, weapon or vehicle.

The route took us through the forest, with towering trees and thick undergrowth blocking the view of everything but towering trees and thick undergrowth.

Somebody with a chainsaw made sure the trail was clear of fallen logs, many of which displayed mushrooms growing from their cut surfaces…

…and moss draped tree limbs.

At about the three mile point, we reached Lover’s Lane Falls.

We shot a few photos…

…and crossed a few log bridges as we proceeded on to our ultimate goal…

…Sol Duc Falls.

A long, three-mile slog through the forest led us back to the lodge…

…where I had a non-seafood (steak) dinner with wine and absolutely no clam chowder!

Ocean Shores

At most of the hotels that we can actually afford, the guest breakfast consists of a cup of coffee and a DIY waffle. At the Cannery Pier, a chef prepared omelettes to order.

After our eggs, we checked out, loaded the car and set off across the Astoria-Megler Bridge.

While driving 4.1 miles high over the Columbia River, I kept thinking that this would be a really bad time for an earthquake to hit and make the bridge look like this. Fortunately, the earth did not quake.

We had a relatively short drive (about 150 miles) up the Washington coast to the town of Ocean Shores.

Trees hugged the road…

…ducks swam in tidewater pools…

…farmers worked their fields…

…and rain fell.

We arrived at our lodging, a Comfort Inn, in Ocean Shores, Washington. Out front, the head landscaper was manicuring the grounds.

We asked the desk clerk where we might find a good cup of clam chowder. She said her father really liked Porthole Pub. We headed there.

Her father has good taste. Rife with clams, Dianne voted this the best chowder of the trip, so far.

Astoria

We left Florence and headed north on U.S. 101. It was another sunny day, which made us wonder if we’re really in the Pacific Northwest. Stops included Seal Rock, where we saw nary a seal…

…and Devil’s Punchbowl, where we saw nary a devil.

What we did see there were several dozen surfers paddling and riding the waves. All were well clad in wetsuits.

From there, it was up the coast to the town of Astoria near the mouth of the Columbia River. We had reservations for a night at the Cannery Pier Hotel & Spa. It was built on a pier jutting 600 feet into the Columbia River.

We had a corner, one-bedroom suite…

…with a fireplace…

…and excellent views of the 4.1-mile-long Astoria-Megler Bridge spanning the river.

As a well published travel writer, I’ve stayed in many hotels like this when traveling on O.P.M. (Other People’s Money). It’s not as much fun when the room charge comes out of our personal credit card account. Still, it’s nice to splurge occasionally.

After settling into our room, we hopped into the hotel’s British sedan…

…for a short tour of the town.

For dinner, our driver dropped us off at the appropriately named Red Building…

…where we dined in the Bridgewater Bistro.

We walked back to the hotel in the dark.

I really like this place. I just wish we could better afford it.

Sorry, kids, there goes your inheritance.

Oops. We don’t have any kids, yet.

Port Townsend

Dianne began the day with another soak in the hot springs pools, which we followed with breakfast. I had what was basically an Egg McMuffin made with a croissant and American bacon. Delicious.

We packed up, departed Sol Duc and headed off for Port Townsend, the northernmost point on our three-week adventure. Our route followed U.S. 101 around the Olympic Peninsula, passing mirror-smooth Crescent Lake on the way.

In Port Angeles, we turned onto the Hurricane Ridge Road and drove a vertical mile up into Olympic National Park. We parked above the site of the former visitor center (which apparently burned down). A bit farther up road, we parked, grabbed cameras and set out on a short walk up up the hillside to where we saw The Bear, our first bruin sighting of the trip.

He (or she?) was pawing the slope below the trail, no doubt trying to unearth former hikers he (or she?) had previously dispatched and buried there. We followed the rules and kept our distance, The Bear did likewise.

Back at the old visitor center site, we looked across at what one person promised was Mt. Olympus.

At one point in my life, I really wanted to scale that peak. I’ve long since overgrown such young and foolish desires. I’m perfectly content now to just sit comfortably in my car and look across at the summit crags and glaciers.

We continued on to Port Townsend and checked into our room at the Tidewater Inn. It was a nice place with a few rough edges, which gave it a pleasant, mom-and-pop feel. What we really liked was that unlike at Sol Duc, we had cell coverage and internet connections here!

A short walk from the Inn, the ferry to Whidbey Island docked. A romantic island getaway could have been a nice diversion for us, but we’re being that romantic on this trip.

Instead of sailing away, we walked up the road along the waterfront to the Betta Bar & Seaside Grill where we had, yes, more clam chowder.

Across from our balcony dining table, a small cruise boat was docked. All of those balcony rooms onboard looked so inviting, I actually thought about actually booking a real cruise sometime in the future. After bunking in 11 separate motels so far on this trip, the ability to just pack and unpack once seemed so appealing.

We were told by the restaurant staff that this ship (name unknown) just sails around Puget Sound and southern British Columbia. It’s not the Bahamas or Tahiti, but it still could be a nice getaway.

Florence

The next stop on our Left Coast adventure would be a resort hotel on the Oregon coast. The last time we visited Crescent City, we drove to Oregon to buy gas. We did that again and saved nearly a dollar per gallon, and in Oregon, they pump it for you.

We had all day Sunday to make what Google says is a four-hour drive, so we took our time and made lots of stops. One of our first was the Whaleshead Viewpoint.

One of the things I really like about the Oregon coastline are all of the coastal rocks jutting from the water.

All along the coastline, we saw stacks of driftwood lining the shoreline.

Another stop was Arch Rock. Since we live 18-3/8 miles from the Utah border, home of Arches National Park…

…we naturally had to stop and see how this arch compared with ours. Sorry, Oregon, but Utah’s are more impressive.

And to make sure we followed the rules at these viewpoints, our actions were carefully monitored by the locals.

One of my wife’s goals of our trip was to devour as much clam chowder as possible. Using Google, Dianne discovered this spot in Bandon, Oregon, which was touted as having outstanding clam chowder. Of course, we had to stop.

I must admit, it was pretty tasty!

After slurping down our soup, we wandered around Bandon’s boardwalk area, looking for coffee mugs and t-shirts, which my wife loves to buy as souvenirs. It was Sunday afternoon, and passing Foley’s Irish Pub, Dianne noticed the Broncos game was showing on the bar’s TV monitors. At the Boss’s insistence, we stopped in for a view and a brew.

Game over [Broncos won] our destination for the night was the Driftwood Shores Resort up the highway in Florence, Oregon.

We had nice quarters [oh no, not another hotel room photo!] on the fourth floor.

Our lofty balcony…

…gave us a nice view of the long, flat beach and neighboring grass-covered dunes.

The hotel may be named Driftwood Shores, but driftwood was scarce out here. This was one of the few pieces we found on the beach.

The Driftwood Shores hotel sported a nice little restaurant where, yes, we ordered more clam chowder.

Layover Day

Dianne and I both agreed that it was finally time to take a day off. After eating lunch for breakfast, we hung around our room with the balcony door open so we could hear the surf pounding the driftwood-strewn shoreline.

I worked on Dan stuff while Dianne worked on Dianne stuff. Late in the afternoon, we walked a quarter mile over to the Battery Point lighthouse…

…then we came back to enjoy another dull sunset from our balcony.

Tomorrow, it’s off to Oregon where the gas should be a little cheaper than it is here in California.

To Crescent City

Back in the car, we twisted up the Pacific Coast on California Highway 1.

I have friends who grew up with numerous older sisters, and buddy, I now know what it must have been like. In the car, I was only under the direction of two women.

From the dashboard, I had the female-voiced Subaru GPS navigation system constantly telling me where to go…

…and from the copilot’s seat I had The Wife telling me how to get there.

“You’re driving like an old man,” she’d tell me. “The speed limit’s 35 and you’re only going 50. Step on it!”

At least the Subie never got angry when I failed to perform as directed.

With permission from both my female overlords, I made several stops along the highway to photograph driftwood-covered beaches…

…ocean surf…

…the local wildlife…

…and to make other stops as requested…

Our route took us along the edge of the redwoods…

…to our hotel in Crescent City, California.

We checked into our room on the third (top) floor.

…which featured a cozy little balcony…

…where we could sit and watch the sun drop into the ocean…

…and see the nearby lighthouse signaling ships at sea…

…all of which we did after enjoying a seafood dinner [yes, yet another food photo] in the nearly empty hotel restaurant.

To Fort Bragg

Fortunately, no bears broke into our car at Camp Richardson. We grabbed some coffee from the lobby, hauled our toys back to the car and set out for the California coast.

Our route took us up the west side of Lake Tahoe. It was on a bicycle trip around this alpine pond that Dianne and I met. I was leading a Sierra Club bicycle trip around Tahoe with two of my buddies and Dianne was the only one to sign up.

One of the most scenic spots along Tahoe’s western shore is Emerald Bay.

There’s a nice pull-off there where for a mere $6, we could park for 30 minutes and admire the view.

We continued around Tahoe and into Truckee where we had breakfast at a longtime favorite restaurant located there.

It occupies a narrow, cubbyhole site downtown, hence the “Squeeze In” name.

They specialize in omelettes. I opted for the Lake Taco version – three eggs stuffed with Chorizo sautéed with red onions, tomatoes and bell peppers with Jack cheese. Yumm!

From Truckee, we turned onto Interstate 80 and drove over Donner Pass. Following the Subaru’s GPS instructions, we exited onto California Highway 20…

…and followed that across the Central Valley and over the coastal hills now gilded with autumn grasses.

Along the way, we got to enjoy numerous construction zones.

Arriving in Fort Bragg, we checked into our motel…

…and headed off for dinner at a seaside, open-air restaurant in the fog and mist…

…where we enjoyed sourdough bread bowls filled with delicious clam chowder.

Up to Tahoe

Our visitation with the in-laws over, we loaded up our toys and headed out for breakfast. Our destination was the nearby Cowboy’s Cafe, a favorite of Dianne’s relatives.

There, I splurged and ordered a two-egg breakfast with a big slab of chicken-fried steak smothered in white gravy. The restaurant was great, but I’m afraid that this sort of Texas-style breakfast will never rate high on my favorite’s list.

Dianne left her laptop at her sister’s house in Carson City, so we exited town by heading 15 miles north to Carson. Computer back in the car, we decided to drive the scenic route back by way of Genoa with a stop at Mormon Station State Historic Park.

Nevada’s first permanent, non-native settlement holds a replica of the original trading post, built in 1851.

After a short visit there, we drove up through the town of South Lake Tahoe and on to our lodging at the Camp Richardson Hotel, an edifice that’s more than a century old.

Like many old hotels, it featured a spacious lobby…

…and small, rather spartan rooms.

Dinner that evening was at Camp Richardson’s Grove restaurant, which sits on the shore of Lake Tahoe…

…offering views like this.

They warned us that bears frequent the area and warned us to make sure we took all of the food out of the car, which, of course, we did. The only bear we encountered, however, was this guy standing across the street from the hotel.

Visiting the In-Laws

We booked three nights at the Quality Inn to allow time for a good visit with the in-laws. We arrived on Sunday afternoon at their home in Gardnerville, Nevada, where we had dinner with Dianne’s parents, Dianne’s sister, Nancy, and her husband, Kelly.

On Monday, Dianne and her mother went shopping while I hung out at the motel processing photos and just relaxing.

Tuesday was a more exciting day. Dianne and her sister took their 95-year-old mother up to Lake Tahoe for a picnic. Accompanying the more elderly females were Nancy’s daughter, Christa, and her two teenage daughters. Four generations celebrating a girls’ day out.

While the ladies were having fun, I took the Subaru into Carson City to have the oil changed. On my way out of town, I stopped into the bank building where I first worked in Nevada some 50 years ago. It was Nevada National Bank (not Plumas) back then.

I still have nightmares about those days long ago when I actually had to work for a living.