Trips – Dan Leeth

Back toward Fruita

The exciting part of our trip completed, it was time to head for Salt Lake City and home. After brewing coffee and tea, we loaded the car and set off on a three-day drive towards home.

Outside of the state park, we passed Christmas tree plantations.

We drove across the Cascades, passing roadside rivers, dams, reservoirs…

…and autumn color.

With roadside rest areas rare, we drove to a small ski area…

…and a riverside lodge in pressing search for flushable facilities.

We made a few stops to photograph the scenery.

We spent the night at a Daze-in motel in Bend, Oregon.

I bought a bottle of Chardonnay and in our room we finally enjoyed the pound of shelled crab and loaf of sourdough that Dianne had purchased back in Port Townsend. Yummmm!

We get a free breakfast at Daze-In motels. At most of them, there’s a waffle-maker. This one had a pancake-maker.

We headed south out of Bend, heading for Nevada.

Back when we were crossing the Cascades, all we could see were trees. No views – just lumber. Out here, sagebrush (the Nevada state tree) covered the ground and we could look out and actually see the landscape.

We would spend the night in Winnemucca, Nevada, and on the way to our motel, we passed a Basque restaurant. We went in and enjoyed dinner in deliciously uncrowded conditions.

Of course, I started out with a Picon Punch.

The Picon Punch is made with Amer Picon liqueur, grenadine, brandy and sparkling water. The liqueur dates back to the early 1800s when it was created as a medicinal tonic and was regularly mixed into drinks for the local Basque population.

Basque food is typically served family style with shared serving bowls of soup, beans and salad brought to the table followed by each person’s individual entrée. While I opted for cow, Dianne went Basque sheepherder-style with lamb chops.

The next morning, we headed east on I-70 toward Salt Lake City. Clouds hung low on the eastern horizon.

Those clouds soon did what clouds are paid to do. They dropped water.

I was worried that we would be hit with precipitation along the coast or up in the Pacific Northwest rain forest. Instead, we experienced our rain in the Great Basin Desert.

Reaching Salt Lake City, I followed Subie’s directions to the Radisson Hotel downtown. There, Dianne would bunk for three nights as she attended a LifeVantage global convention.

I headed solo down to the Salt Lake suburb of Lehi where I had a reservation at yet another Day’s Inn. The next morning, I found that the motel’s free breakfast consisted of coffee and instant oatmeal. There was nary a traditional waffle maker to be seen. At least he coffee was good.

I continued down U.S. Highway 6 through the Utah countryside. The next few hundred miles were scary. I had only one female voice, (Subie, the GPS bimbo) telling me where to go. The other female voice (The Wife) was absent. For the final 250 miles, I would have nobody telling me what I was doing wrong.

Right or wrong, I made what I consider to be a mandatory stop in Green River…

…and had my obligatory bacon cheeseburger with fries.

Ninety or so minutes later, I reached Fruita,

…drove home, parked Subie in the driveway…

…unloaded all the crap from the car…

…and grabbed a cold brew.

There was no rush to put all our stuff away since Dianne wouldn’t be home from her Salt Lake City convention until sometime Sunday.

Silver Falls

Sunday was largely a freeway driving day. We left the Waterfront Inn and soon drove across the Tacoma Narrows Bridge. Today’s bridge is a replacement for the original span, which became known as Galloping Gertie.

On November 7, 1940, just four months after it opened, the original bridge collapsed due to “aeroelastic torsional flutter” caused by wind moving across the narrow solid girders. While no human lives were lost, a black cocker spaniel named Tubby tragically died after being left behind in a stranded car.

Fortunately, little wind was blowing when we crossed on Galloping Gertie’s replacement span and we had no dog with us.

Surviving the bridge crossing, we made the largely boring drive through Tacoma and down I-5 to Portland and beyond.

Following Subie’s command, we finally escaped the interstate and took off overland…

…and into Silver Falls State Park.

…where we had a small, cabin reserved.

Yes, a small cabin.

Cute and cozy, it did have a nice bathroom, although the shower was tighter than Superman’s phone booth.

After unloading our toys, we headed over to the cafe for a bite.

While dining, we listened to music the staff played on an actual record player. Yes, a record player! [Kids, if you don’t know what a “record player” is, please Google it.]

We had two nights here, and on our layover day, we hiked the Trail of Ten Falls – a pathway that would take us past each of the park’s ten waterfalls.

First came South Falls…

…where the trail passes behind the falls.

That was followed by Lower South Falls…

…and more…

…and more.

The autumn maples along the trail were just as appealing as the falls.

Suffering from the lingering effects of an old football injury, at about the five mile point I decided to cut my hike short and head back to civilization. At the South Falls Lodge, I boosted the Oregon economy by purchasing a delicious, locally produced, pain-mitigating, grain product. I immediately felt better.

While I was attending to my well-being, Macho Woman continued on, ultimately hiking past of all ten of Silver Falls waterfalls. Those LifeVantage activators she promotes must really work well.

After passing her tenth waterfall, Dianne met me at the South Falls Lodge, a large, CCC-built log structure worthy of a national park.

We drove back to our cabin. After showers in our micro-tiny, one person at a time shower stall, we walked over to the cafe for a delicious salad and flatbread dinner. Amazingly, we shot no photos of the food. [You’re welcome.].

Gig Harbor

We had only about 60 miles to cover today, so we got off to a leisurely slow start…

…with breakfast at a nearby, waterfront restaurant.

Our destination was the little town of Gig Harbor located on Puget Sound not too far from Tacoma. Our lodging would be at the Waterfront Inn, a small B&B without the breakfast. Like with Grand Central in Ely, there was no onsite management. We were simply given a code to open our door.

The room was spacious…

…and we shared an entry lobby room that featured numerous nutritional items.

A large, shared deck offered waterfront seats, tables and seagulls…

…along with splendid views of the nearby harbor. I sat there looking at the pricey watercraft and wondered just where to do these people sail?

As someone who has lived most of his life inland, I find the coast to be mesmerising. I wouldn’t want to live here (the weather sucks), but I’ve always found oceanfront destinations to be appealing places to visit.

We reserved a table at Anthony’s – an upscale, harbor-side seafood restaurant located a block or two away from the Inn.

Of course, we ordered bowls of clam chowder…

…followed by salmon and a bottle of Pacific Northwest wine.

Dinner photographed and consumed, we walked back to the Inn, gazing along the way at the bounty of boats bobbing in the bay.

Our stay at the Waterfront Inn in Gig Harbor rivaled the Cannery Pier as offering perhaps the best lodging on the trip. It’s a place to which I’d gladly come back.

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…