Travelogue: June, 2021 – May, 2022

June 9, 2021

I left Athens, completing the move out of my apartment in Crawford Hall, my home for almost 3 years. The plan when I return is to move into my house on Maplewood Drive. I drove to Columbus and stopped at my friend Lisa’s house. Lisa very kindly offered me a place to stay as I started my journey.

August 12 – August 31

During the latter half of August, I left my car in Seattle: flew to Denver and then to Atlanta and then drove to Bowling Green, OH, on to Athens, OH, and then to Columbus. I visited friends, took care of some necessities at home, and enjoyed my time. At the end of the travel and visiting, I was ready to hit the road again. I will admit that I enjoyed seeing old friends in Athens, but also was trying to remain fairly discrete, so as not to be pulled into some aspects of work during my sabbatical.

        Hanging out with Paula Wishart and Mike Coomes in Ann Arbor

September 1

I flew back to Seattle and picked up my car. From Seattle, I went to Bay View State Park, my first of many nights in various state parks in Washington. Sue Mather suggested that I visit a place called la Conner, which was near my campground. I am so glad I did. First, I went to a restaurant called “Forks,” named for the old logging town on the Olympic Peninsula. For over 20 years, I’ve been in search of a plate of shrimp and grits that matched a dish I had at a wedding in North Carolina in the late 1990s. I’ve tried shrimp and grits all through the South and the Midwest. It turns out, I had to come all the way to the PNW to discover it. I’d go back to la Conner just for the shrimp and grits, but it is just a lovely little town. It is a place I definitely want to return to. Next time, I’ll take one of the river cruises that originate there.

The campground at Bay View had, well, a great view of the Padilla Bay. I saw it for the first time in the evening. The following morning, the water had receded, which gave it a different look and would have been perfect for oyster harvesters. A special feature of my campsite itself was that it was surrounded by blackberries. They made it into my morning oatmeal and made for great snacks throughout the day.

September 2

I drove to the port town of Anacortes, and hopped on a ferry to San Juan Island. Once I got there, I rented a bike and took a 12 mile map-led tour. The topography of the island reminded me of riding through the hills of Athens County. It was hard work! At one beach stop, I chatted with a retiree from the Indianapolis area. It was another in a series of conversations that I would say seem unremarkable, but are at the time appreciated for the warmth shared. The highlight of the trip, however, occurred when I parked my bike on the side of the road to walk a short 200 yard trail to the little lighthouse. No one else was in the area as I approached the lighthouse, but a bald eagle lit on the top as walked up. Against the clear blue sky, the eagle perched on this old lighthouse was quite a sight. It stayed for several minutes, while I had a chance to take in the view.

September 3

After exploring the previous few days, it was time to get to work. I traveled to beautiful Bellingham, a port town, which I will return to and say more about. But, today was a work day. I first went to the campus of Western Washington University, sat outside on campus and accessed the internet for a Zoom meeting. The campus was beautiful and very quiet; it turned out that the semester didn’t begin until after Labor Day. After my Zoom meeting, I drove into town and went to the Public Library to do more work. After a few hours, I returned to la Conner, and went to the local craft brew pub. I had a wonderful mosaic IPA and met a guy named Mike, who had moved to La Conner several years ago, after growing up near Jackson, MS. He confirmed that la Conner is a wonderful destination and a great place to call home. I believe it.

September 4

This is a banner day. I returned to Bellingham, and walked around the city. My travel book referred to Bellingham as a smaller Portland. It is many things–notably, a college town, the gateway to Mount Baker, and a celebration of diversity. Truly a beautiful place. I also found a cool little neighborhood or suburb called Fairhaven. Fairhaven sits just beside the water and has a wonderful collection of book stores, cafes, and restaurants. I moved my campsite to a place near there–a HipCamp farm. Had a good conversation with a couple from Seattle, who were just enjoying the Labor Day weekend in the Bellingham area.

September 5

I went back to Fairhaven to do some work at a cafe, and then drove down the scenic Chuckanut Drive toward my destination–a whale watching tour out of Anacordes. The cruise was very cool, and I saw approximately 15 – 20 whales. I didn’t want to just hold my camera up to the water, waiting for the whales to emerge. So, I decided just to take in the whale jumping without trying to capture their pictures. It was a beautiful 4 1/2 hour adventure. I returned that night to the HipCamp site.

September 6

I started the day driving up Chuckanut Drive. I stopped to hike the Fragrance Lake Trail. This was a steep but fairly short trail (5.8 miles, out and back). It was my first hike in awhile, and it hit me where I needed to be hit. Beautiful trail with refreshing Lake Fragrance at the end of the trail.

I checked in at Larrabee State Park, my home for two nights. There was a beach trail from the campground. I found a rock cliff to climb on. Sat and took in the sights. Went into Fairhaven for a cup of coffee and some work, and then returned to the beach in the evening to watch the sunset over the bay.

September 7

I stayed at Larrabee State Park for another night. Spent the day in Bellingham, mostly at the Public Library. My campsite was near a train track. That night I counted 8 trains from the time I went to bed until I left my tent in the morning. If I go back to Larrabee, I’ll pay a little extra for one of the campsites away from the tracks.

September 8

I drove through Bellingham, toward Mount Baker. I stopped along the way at Silver Lake State Park. Someone had told me about it, but I couldn’t remember who! I hiked a beautiful 2 mile trail (easy) through the park. The lake itself didn’t do much for me, but the trees along the trail were something to behold.

I traveled on toward the Mt. Baker National Park in search of the Heliotrope Trail. The drive up to the trailhead was about 8 miles off the main road: a very rough drive. At the top, the trail is 6 miles (out and back) with a 2,000 ft elevation gain. It is a beautiful trail, and the most memorable part is the mountain stream crossings. I crossed two, which both required a lot of caution. The third stream was on a steep incline, with a high volume of fast-moving water. There was no way to step on dry rocks to cross the stream. I climbed up the bank quite a way, and still couldn’t find a way to safely move across. When I returned to the main trail, I ran into a couple who were content to turn back, urging me to do the same. I listened. As I headed back, I remembered there was a sign to what appeared to be a spur, labeled, “Climber’s Route.” I found it on the way back and went up a very steep incline. As I got close to the snow fields, the trail disappeared, and accessing the wisdom that kept me from crossing the last mountain stream (my body giving out was another sign it was time to turn around), I headed back down the mountain. An observation from the high altitude meadows: They were becoming noticeably less colorful than the high elevations from a few weeks before. But, there was still a charm in the emerging gold, faded green and patches of red berries–not to mention the beautiful purple wildflowers.

After leaving the Heliotrope trail, I drove toward Artist Point, which had a gorgeous view of Mount Baker. I parked below the vista point and climbed up the Wild Goose Trail (my favorite trail name so far). It was a great vista, but view of the top of the mountain was obscured by clouds. After grabbing some pictures, I made my way back down the Wild Goose and drove back to Silver Lake Park Campground, where I arrived late and spent a restful night.

September 9

It was a clear day, so I got up early and decided to make the hour drive back to Artist Point. It was well worth it as the view of Mt Baker was very clear!

After enjoying the view of Mt. Baker, I headed back west toward Bellingham. I saw a sign pointing me toward the Nooksack Falls, in the Mt. Baker National Park. After a nice interaction with a retired couple from the area (and exchange of pictures), I continued my travels west, where I stopped at a coffee shop, off the beaten path, near Silverlake. While sitting outside, I saw a Stellar Jay hopping around the grounds. It is a bird I’m pretty sure we don’t see out east.

I went back to Bellingham and spent a couple of hours in the library, and then headed down to la Conner to Forks restaurant to enjoy the shrimp and grits again before I left the area. It was worth the drive. I stayed the night be in the Bay View Park. Since I’d been there before, I knew the quieter sites, and stayed on what is called the “back loop.” If you stay at Bay View, I recommend this part of the campground.

September 10

I headed toward Rainier, where I was scheduled to meet Ellen Edwards (who is from Athens and the daughter of my friend, Ken) to tackle a couple of hikes over the weekend. I was ahead of schedule for our meeting, so I stopped at the Maple Valley Library to do some work. Ellen, her hiking buddy, Ken (not to be confused with her father), and I met in the early evening at the White Pass Lodge. We then headed to public lands to spend the night, rent free, before our big hike the next day. Shortly after we got to the site, a couple emerged from a trail. they were 70ish year olds, carrying large and heavy packs. We learned that they were hiking the entire Pacific Crest Trail. They were a bit distraught because they learned their ride to Packwood, where they were planning to spend the night, was not going to be able to take them. After a short conversation, they hiked out to the main road, hoping to hitchhike to Packwood as the sun was going down. After 45 minutes or so, Ellen, Ken and I decided to check on them, and found that they were standing out by the dark road. We discussed the situation, and Ken pointed out that Packwood was as close to the trailhead for tomorrow’s hike as was White Pass. So, we consolidated our supplies and gave them a ride to their destination. We wound up finding another National Forest open space where we could sleep for the night.

September 11

We got up early in the morning and headed into Packwood, where we grabbed a hot drink and morning pastries at Mountain Goat Coffee. I had a wonderful raspberry pastry. Then, we headed up to Paradise to start our hike to Muir Camp, which is a basecamp for climbs up Mt. Rainier. It was 11am before we got started. From the trailhead we had a clear view of The Mountain (as the Washingtonians call it). There were a lot of folks on the Paradise Trail, but far fewer when we veered off toward the base camp. After exiting the Paradise Trail, the majority of the hike to Muir was through flat, loose rock piles and snow fields. Ellen and Ken had brought extra crampons, which I carried until we reached the snowfields. Whether because of the altitude or just the challenge of the hike/climb, I started to get light-headed and questioned whether I’d be able to make it. Ellen led the way, followed by Ken and I brought up the rear. Ellen and Ken are frequent hikers in the high elevations of Washington state. While I’m in pretty good shape for a 61 year old, I was clearly not in the condition they were in. As I started to get light-headed and exhausted, I began to look ahead with concern about the distance we still had to climb. The trailhead elevation is 5400 ft, while the Muir camp is just over 10,000. In addition the challenges of the elevation, climb and footing, there were deep crevasses that we had to navigate around, which added considerable distance to our hike. Ellen and Ken would have to wait for me whenever they got to a crevasse, so we could develop a plan about how to navigate these deep gaps in the earth. As we continued up the mountain, I realized I was stopping for rest every 5 – 10 steps. Ken and Ellen had both given me strategies for moving forward in the midst of this kind of challenge.

Two things they suggested: 1) Take slow steps; and 2) think of a word that would serve as a motivator for continuing. I started experimenting with words–the names of people I care about, and other words, representing the challenge–e.g., “strive.” Both of these approaches worked for a little while, but then I fell back into the 5 – 7 step series and then resting on my hiking poles. As I looked ahead, I knew this would not get me there. So, I tried counting, with the plan to take 50 steps without resting. I wound up moving ahead with groups of 40 – 60 steps. I also stopped looking too far ahead–just focusing on the series of steps. A few times, I looked behind me to see the progress I had made. That allowed me to rest and to appreciate my accomplishments so far. After some time, and with the campsite in view, I did make it to the top–exhausted and proud of what I had done. I joked with the Park Ranger that I would pay big money for a mule to take me back down. (There were no mules in sight.)

There were not many people on top of the mountain. Perhaps 3 other groups. Two couples and one larger group of 7-8 people. One of the couples had followed us up the mountain. They were younger–probably in their late 20s to early 30s, and they were wearing trail runners. No crampons or special hiking boots. I talked with that couple. They said they had just planned to hike the Paradise trail, but decided to start the other trail. Apparently, they were early in a dating relationship. They expressed having similar feelings and fatigue to what I experienced coming up the mountain. In fact, the woman said that she twice stopped and cried on the way up. I felt a great deal of empathy and camaraderie with them and respect for their efforts.

After about 45 minutes to an hour on at the camp, we started our descent. We spent more of our descent on the snowfields, bypassing the rocky terrain as much as we could. While not easy, the descent was easier. When we arrived at the trailhead, about 9 hours after we started, I was beat. I was skeptical that I’d be able to do the relatively hard climb the next day.

We went back to Packwood, having a beer at the Brewery and then a pizza at another restaurant. At the brewery, we met two PCT hikers–one, Eli, was an IT worker from Louisville, who apparently regularly takes breaks from his life, sells possessions and sets off on these long term adventures. The other was a young Belgian guy who I didn’t get much of a chance to talk with. Ken, Ellen and I returned to our campsite in the national forest with Eli and the other hiker in tow. I rested well in my tent.

September 12

We started the day again at Mountain Goat. On the way to town, three elk crossed the road in front of me. Pretty cool. At the Mountain Goat, I enjoyed a vegetable scone, which was a lot like a most excellent quiche in scone form. We then headed for Sunrise, WA, where we would start our 10 mile hike, with close to a 4,000 ft elevation gain. One of the signature vistas has a great view of Mt. Rainier. However, we weren’t able to see the mountain at all because of the clouds. Still, the hike was beautiful and challenging. I was surprised by my recovery from the Camp Muir hike the previous day, but was exhausted by the end (as illustrated below).

 

At the end of the climb, Ellen and Ken returned to their respective homes in the tri-city area, and I went back to Packwood–had really good tacos and a beer at the brewery, and then went back to the camping spot–this time alone.

September 13

With some reservation, I left the Mt. Rainier area and headed toward Port Townsend on the Olympic Peninsula. Because of the beauty of the places I’ve visited on this adventure, I often have some ambivalence about leaving to go to a new place. That was the case with this transition as much as any I’d made. I was attached not only to the grandeur of Mt. Rainier, but also the potential for what I could experience there–more great climbs and vistas. But, I also was aware that I could wait there for days and not have another good view of The Mountain. It seemed the best course of action was to pick up and move forward. And I knew the Olympic Peninsula and Olympic National Park had a lot to show me and teach me. So I moved ahead.

After my extreme-sport weekend, I decided it was time to rest and relax. So, I checked into the Fort Warden State Park, near Port Townsend, and immediately headed for the downtown, where I discovered the Vintage wine bar on the waterfront. After having a glass of the red blend, I headed a wonderful little bookstore called “Phoenix Rising.” It has a new age feel. While it didn’t have a huge collection, it had a number of books that enticed me. I ended up with “Morality: Restoring the Common Good in Divided Times,” an analysis of the world today by Jonathan Sacks.

After the bookstore, I headed to Doc’s Marina Restaurant. I was lucky to find a seat at the bar at this very popular restaurant, which I’d read about in Lonely Planet. I sat next to a professional photographer, Mark, who suggested I check out Indian Island, and gave me specific directions to get views of an interesting sea life culture.  I had a wonderful seafood pasta. Luna, the bartender, was engaged with the bar patrons. I support Lonely Planet’s positive review of this restaurant. If you’re lucky enough to get an outdoor seat, the view is excellent.

September 14

I spent the morning finding and then exploring the area of Indian Island described by Mark, the photographer. It was certainly beautiful. After that 1 – 2 hour adventure, I went to the library to do some work, and then went to the tasting room for the Vintage winery. This time I had a glass of the cabernet. It was awesome. Because of my full car and inability to properly care for a bottle of wine on my travels, I didn’t buy a bottle, but will be ordering it when I get a chance. I went back to the Doc’s Marina for dinner, but it was closed, so I went back to the campsite and enjoyed a freeze-dried dinner.

September 15

I started the day by going back to Indian Island, hoping to have access to more of the coast (if the tide was out). I think it was a bit better, and I took a few more pictures, before heading off for Port Angeles and the Olympic National Park. Port Angeles is a little smaller than Port Townsend, but boasts access to the national park and the the wonderful Hurricane Ridge, which is a view point for the Olympic Mountain range. On my way up the mountain (to Hurricane Ridge), I stopped and checked in at the Heart of the Hills, an Olympic National Park Campground. The view from Hurricane Ridge was majestic, if a little obscured by clouds. I went back down the mountain and searched for a brew pub. I found it at Hangar 19, near an old local airfield. Had a smooth red ale, and headed back to the campsite to prepare for the next day’s hiking adventure.

September 16

The trailhead for the Lake Angeles trail is very near the Heart of the Hills Campground. So, I took a short drive to the trailhead and prepared for what I expected to be a loop from the Lake trail, up to the Klahhane Ridge Trail and back to around to the trailhead (not an out and back). This loop has a pretty long spur that many overnight campers take. With the spur, many people take 3 days for the hike. I planned to do the hike, minus the spur, in one day. So, I started fairly early in the morning, after consuming an eggs and sausage breakfast. The first part of the trail to the lake was in the shadows, even though the skies were clear. Once I arrived at the lake, I bumbled around before I found the Ridge trail. The ridge trail, in particular, was steep and often had precarious footing. The rewards were great with wonderful panoramic views of the Strait of Juan de Fuca and Canada on one side and the Olympic Mountain Range on the other. On the ridge, I met a married couple (man and woman). It was the woman’s 71st birthday. She shared that she was from Colorado. She loved Washington, but it was easier to get out and hike year-round in CO than in WA, because of the ongoing rain. But, challenging hikes were her thing. We had the entire conversation, as we stood side-by-side on a narrow ridge where a fall would not have turned out well. I walked away from the conversation respecting her/their continued interest in exercise and nature, and our mutual trust in a potentially precarious place. As I continued along the trail, I mistakenly took a switchback trail down from the ridge. By the time I discovered what I had done, I felt like there wasn’t enough time to finish my loop. So, I went from the bottom of the switchback trail onto an ascending trail back to Hurricane Ridge. Once I arrived at Hurricane Ridge, I had hiked almost 7000 ft of elevation gain. I was spent. The next challenge was to find a ride down from the Hurricane Ridge visitor’s center to the trailhead. It would have been a 9 mile hike back down, and I really wasn’t excited about that. All of the cars on Hurricane Ridge had to pass by the trailhead as the road ends at the ridge. I had talked to two solo hikers (One was truly a great conversation and connection) on the trail about the possibility of a ride, but they were each probably 30 to 45 minutes behind me by the time I got to the visitor’s center.  After walking around, I saw a young guy get into his SUV, and I waved him down. When I told him I was looking for a ride part way down the mountain, he quickly said, “Sure.” His name was Daniel. He had recently completed his military service, and was on a similar adventure to mine–a 6 month adventure around National Parks in the Western US. He started in Florida, and was halfway through his journey when we met.

September 17

Friday was a library day. I spent most of the day in the library. It was rainy and cold. The night before I had gone to the municipal pool to take a shower ($6!). Overall, my mood was low. I was tired of camping, especially in the bad weather. At times during my journey, my mind has been heavy with the burden of spoiled relationships in my past. This was one of those days. I was in a funk. I knew it would pass, but I was hoping it would do so sooner rather than later.

I went off to explore Port Angeles’ finest pubs. I found the Next Door Gastro Pub, where I enjoyed a wonderful plate of “Crab Puppies.” When I was driving back up the mountain, I stopped at the ranger checkpoint, and learned that the park service was recommending that campers evacuate the campground where I was staying due to high winds. I found some relief in not spending another night in a cool and rainy campground. So, I returned to Port Angeles, and got a motel room for the night. I was so happy to be staying inside, have a shower and a toilet, and enjoy a comfortable bed. I was still hungry, so went to Bourbon West for, guess what–a bourbon (and a couple of tasty tacos).

September 18

I left Port Angeles and headed for the town of Forks, still on the Olympic Peninsula. Forks is known as the town where the popular Twilight vampire services was shot. It is also the gateway to the Hoh Rain forest. I stopped in Forks at a general store, where I bought a sweatshirt. I only had one with me, so needed to layer up as I moved into cooler weather. I then went to Hoh to run a trail. One of the good things about my cartop tent is that I can pop it up quickly pretty much anywhere, to take a nap or to change clothes. I popped up the tent and changed into my running clothes and set off on the run. Pretty early in the run, I tripped over a large stone with my phone in my hand, and cracked the screen. (Bummer) But, I picked up and started running again, this time with my phone in my backpack. The trail was slippery, rocky and with roots to step over and around. I tried to balance looking at the footing while also paying attention to the beautiful rain forest. I went a total of 6.5 miles, walking several times to negotiate pools of water and otherwise challenging footing. I also stopped to take a few pictures. Most of the trail I was on was pretty heavily traveled, and I enjoyed the calls of fellow hikers: “Way to go!” “Keep it up!” These little encouragements boosted my spirits.

From there, I drove to Kalaloch Beach, on the west coast of the Peninsula. It was refreshing to be on the coast.

 

September 19 – 20

I left the beach and headed to Olympia, where I was picking up something from Susie Coomes–sister-in-law of my friend and former professor at Bowling Green State University, Mike Coomes. Graciously, Susie invited me to stay a couple of nights, do my laundry and enjoy her home cooked meals. Susie and I spent both evenings splitting a bottle of wine and laughing a lot. I’m grateful for my time with Susie. I should also mention that I used the opportunity to find a new organizing strategy for the many things in my car. I went to both REI and Target for containers, bags and shelving to put in the back of my car. I will now take far less time digging through the back of my car for socks, flashlights, etc.

September 21

I said goodbye to Susie and headed toward the Oregon Coast, arriving at Astoria in the middle of the afternoon. On the way to Astoria, I had a call with Jenny Bloom, a friend and the founder of Appreciative Advising. I’m grateful for my friendship with Jenny and her husband Steve Sanderson (who regularly comments on my FB posts!). Jenny always provides me with new insights about my work/our work. I skirted Astoria and found my campsite at Fort Stevens State Park. From there, I went for a run to the beach, where I had a wonderful and refreshing walk, listening to songs a friend had shared with me on Spotify. I love sharing song, especially when I like the songs I’m receiving even better than my own playlists!

I had dinner at the campsite and enjoyed my first campfire on the journey! Fires were forbidden throughout the mountain states and in Washington because of the climate issues and related forest fires.

September 22

I slept well and woke up to drizzly weather. As weather often drives my schedule, I headed into Astoria to find places to work. This was a day of catching up on my travelogue. I started at a little coffee shop downtown. Although there was no indoor seating because of COVID, there were a series of tables on the sidewalk, covered by an awning. The rain was light. After enjoying a coffee and a pastry at the Astoria Coffee House, I walked around the historic downtown. This place had more per capita quirky, vintage stores than I’ve seen anywhere. It was a really cool vibe in the downtown. After walking around a bit, I went to the Astoria Public Library, where I spent most of the day. That evening, I went to Fort George Brewery for dinner. They did a good job of spacing people out at the bar. I ordered an IPA, and a young guy sitting down the bar from me started a conversation. He was a 24 year old military veteran from Oregon. We couldn’t hear each other very well, so he asked if he could scoot closer to me. I asked if he was vaccinated, and he replied, “No, God will take me when he is ready.” I said, “Oh, so do you put your hands on the steering wheel when you drive your car?” We moved on to other topics before I decided to go to the downstairs restaurant, where there was outdoor seating and a more extensive food menu. There weren’t any available tables in the covered, semi-outdoors area downstairs, but a guy who was sitting in a large table by himself, nodded to indicate that I could join him. It turned out that he was visiting Astoria from Toledo, OH for work. We seemed to have more in common than the young guy at the bar and I did.

September 23

I drove south on the coastal highway to the Cannon Beach area. I first stopped at Indian Beach. It was a beautiful setting. I ran back up to my car to get my journal, and sat on one of many logs that was on the beach. I drafted a poem. Something about this experience has prompted me to try my hand at poetry. I’m not prepared to share any of these (yet). I would only say that I am very much a novice and it is the first time I’ve drafted a poem that didn’t start with, “Roses are red, Violets are Blue. . .” But, the coast in this Cannon area is just striking. On Indian beach there is a series of rocks–different sizes and shapes. They stand in clusters, each catching crashing waves from the Pacific Ocean. The Indian Island lighthouse is another landmark that stands out on this beach. After spending an hour or more on the Indian Beach, I went down to the Ecola Beach Park, where there was a trailhead for the beautiful Crescent Beach, not to mention a sign commemorating this as a site for the movies, Goonies. I hopped on the trail to Crescent Beach.  The surroundings were green and lush. One of the most unique parts of the landscape, relative to my other hiking experiences, were the large swatches of ferns. At the end of the trail was a set of wooden steps that descended to the beach. Instead of looking at the steps, I scanned the beach, which looked magnificent. I was suddenly awakened from my gazing descent, when I stepped into a hole. A step was missing. Fortunately, my hands were on the rails as I dropped down into the hole. After I shook off that little scare, I thoroughly enjoyed my time at this unique and pristine beach, and then made my way back up the trail to my car.

The local state park camping ground was full when I got there, so I wound up staying at a private marina, where I had a great conversation with my campground neighbors–an older couple who were tent camping (on the ground).

September 24

I decided to drive south to Newport, which is notable because it is the other large port (beside Astoria) on the west coast of Oregon. On the way, I stopped to see the port at Depoe, which claims to have the narrowest natural navigable harbor. This seems to be true. Again, the state parks near Newport did not have vacancy, so I proceeded south on the coast to Waldport, where I grabbed a spot at a KOA campground. I felt like my exercise was dropping off, so I ran on the bridge across the Alsea Bay. The wind direction and temperature changes were a shocker. The bridge and bay were beautiful! I decided to pick up Chinese food from a restaurant in Waldport for dinner. My first time eating this fare since I started on my journey.

 

September 25

I went to Newport from my campsite on this grey day, deciding it was a good day to do some work. The library was closed on Saturdays, and I couldn’t find a good independent coffee place, so I settled for a Starbucks in a strip mall. After working for a couple of hours there, I headed to the harbor. I parked the car and went into an art gallery, which was nice and beyond my budget. The street was a little too busy, and I needed to get something to eat, so I decided on the Rogue Brewery, a well-known national landmark among craft beer aficionados. I ordered a flight of beers (i.e., a sampler) and a salad. Both were delightful. I was joined at the bar by a couple, Denise and Will, who were celebrating their 25th anniversary. We hit it off and shared stories of love and loss. I know it sounds corny, but it was really awesome. The conversation prompted me to reflect on my relationships, and I am grateful for my new friends. I knew this was going to be my last day on the Oregon coast for a while; so I pulled over on the way back to my campsite, and took in a cool, rocky beach site along the way.

September 26

I left the coast and headed for Eugene, home of the University of Oregon. As it happened, Corvallis, which is the home of Oregon State University, was on the way, only an hour drive from Eugene. My little detour into downtown Corvallis; what a charming college town. The weather was great. The downtown has cool independent restaurants, coffee shops, art stores and, of course, bars. I stopped at a small coffee shop for a to go coffee. Made a mental note that this would be a great place to return to, or to encourage adventuring graduates from our HESA program to check out when they are job searching.

From Corvallis, I headed to Eugene, where my first stop was a trail head. The hike is about 6.5 miles, out and back, with a 1500+ foot elevation gain. So, it was pretty good exercise after a few days of taking it easy.

After the hike, I headed to the home of Lezlee and Randy Ware. I had visited the Wares at their home in Coeur d’Alene a few weeks earlier. Fortunately for me, they had recently moved. They provided great hospitality, as always, with good company, a good dinner, and laundry facilities. After the visit, I headed to a nearby campground for the night.

September 27

This was mostly a day of travel, but I started at a coffee shop in Eugene to do some work. After leaving Eugene, I made my way up toward Portland. I stopped at the Sokol Blosser Winery, where I had a glass of Pinot Noir, the go-to wine in Oregon.  I arrived in Portland and was hosted by Amy and Scott Robison, former colleagues in the College of Education at Ohio University. They, along with their two boys, were wonderful hosts.

September 28

Amy has a pretty flexible work schedule, so she and I went to capture some sights in downtown Portland. The current state of Portland–and particularly the prevalence of homeless people–is common knowledge, and I saw it in spades in the time I spent there.

My priority was to see Powell Books, the mammoth bookstore. It was, indeed, a bibliophile’s delight.

After spending an hour or two there (and it could have been a full day), we went to the Chinese garden, which was built through a partnership between the city of Portland and their sister city in China, Suzhou. The garden was magnificent. It was surrounded by walls and in the midst of an area of the city with missions for the homeless. It was a notable contrast between what was inside the walls and outside of them.

From the China garden, we went to Voodoo Doughnuts. I left there with a chai flavored doughnut and a sugar rush. From there, Amy and I went to the Grotto, a Catholic haven on Rocky Butte, a cliff that is on the edge of Portland. It is a center for meditation, and a peaceful site in this large city. Not having eaten many sweets in recent weeks, I was crashing from my afternoon snack, but it was still an inspiring place.

September 29

This was a great day. Like my other Portland friends, a former student from Harlaxton College in the UK from 1985 to 1987, Vivien Kildani Crew, invited me to see the sights along the Columbia River Gorge, and a few wonderful waterfalls, including the most notable, Multnomah Falls. The sites were terrific and it was a wonderful reunion. In addition to our sightseeing, Vivien brought along her yearbooks from the time we were together decades before, and we had an awesome time reminiscing and appreciating the opportunities and growth we had both experienced over the decades since we were together at Harlaxton.

 

September 30

I started the day by saying goodbye to my friends, the Robisons. Cole was perhaps ambivalent about our farewell. See picture.

After leaving the Robisons’ home, I headed to a breakfast place to meet with another former student, Charlie Collier. Charlie was an RA when I worked in residence life at Emory University in the early 90s. Our path crossed again a few years later when I was serving as assistant dean at Duke University and Charlie was a graduate student in the Divinity School. We had a wonderful visit, but it was too short, as I had to hightail it to a library to set up for the dissertation defense of Jonathan Duraj. With the help of a librarian, I was able to procure a relatively quiet corner and shepherd the virtual meeting. It was a smooth defense. Congratulations to Dr. Duraj!

After the defense, I set out for and arrived at my campsite in Silver Falls State Park in the late afternoon.

October 1

The Silver Falls State Park Campground is near the trailhead for the Ten Falls Trail. It was about a 10 mile hike with spurs, and 9 of the 10 falls were amazing. (The Winter fall was not at its best in the early fall.) Two of the falls included a cave behind the fall, so there were pretty cool views both in front and in back of the falls. During the hike, I was wearing my Berry College hat (alma mater of my daughter, Emily). I was surprised by someone who asked if I lived in Rome (GA); she had lived there, so knew this little awesome part of the world in the north Georgia mountains. As usual, I made some other friends along the way, and swapped picture taking with one couple, so we could all prove we were at the falls.

 

After my hike, I made my way to the town of Sisters, where I camped off the road in a National Forest. By the time I found the campsite, it was late and quite dark. I felt pretty fortunate to find the campsite this late!

October 2

I left the campground and headed west and south to the Blue Lake trail. It was a beauty, with lots of lava residual, much of it covered in bright green/yellow moss.

From the trail, I went to the town of Bend, and happened on their fall festival weekend. It was a wonderful and spirited town. Had a similar feel to Boulder with high end shops, including art stores, mountain and outdoor wear, and nice tourist shops. There were also nice restaurants and hotels in the downtown.

I knew there was a State Park south of Bend, in my intended direction. When I arrived at the park, I found that the campground had closed at the end of September. This was true for many of the campgrounds in mountainous areas because of access and risk issues due to snowfall. So, I bit the bullet and booked a hotel in Bend (not one of the nice downtown ones). But after not taking a shower for a couple of days, it was nice to have conveniences such as indoor plumbing.

October 3

I retraced my steps from the day before, heading south out of Bend. On the recommendation of my friend, Charlie, I stopped at Lava Butte, and had a wonderful conversation with Ginny, a Park Service volunteer. She gave me an introduction to the local history, geography and culture of the area. Ginny is among the many retirees who volunteer their time in the national and state sites of interest.

After my fairly brief stop at Lava Butte, I headed south to Crater Lake, a magnificent site.

I’d seen pictures of Crater Lake, but the place really takes one’s breath away. The sky was very clear and the water was a striking blue. There were several places from which I could capture amazing images, the best of which was at the top of a pretty challenging trail.

October 4

It was my plan to drive back to the Denver area to recoup from all of the time I had spent in my tent over the past few weeks. But at the apex of the trail at Crater Lake, I had a conversation with a fellow from Reno, who told me the views at Lake Tahoe had cleared from the summer fires. So, I decided to drive down through California to Tahoe, rather than taking the shorter route to Denver through southern Idaho. That path meant driving on an interstate that goes through the Reno area. The traffic was terrible. There might be a nice downtown in Reno, but I just saw miles of fairly modern strip malls in the middle of the desert. I didn’t think this place was for me.

When I arrived at Lake Tahoe, I immediately went to the closest state park, which had no vacancy. The camp manager pointed me toward a private campground near the lake, and fortunately for me, within walking distance of a public library, cafes, restaurants and the lake itself.

October 5

I worked through the morning, and then went on a trail run/hike in the middle of the afternoon. According to the reviews on my trail app, the Saddle to Ski Run Trail was 4 mile trail (out and back) with great views. Unfortunately, the views were obscured by smoke, but it was a really good trail, and not heavily traveled on this day. I did see a few mountain bikers, though.

In the evening, I was very fatigued, and just read and did my best to rest.

October 6

I walked down to the water in the morning, and got a nice picture of the shoreline, a mountain, and the clouds.

I then headed out on Hwy 50 from Lake Tahoe to Grand Junction in Utah. After hitting a couple of towns very early in the drive, I ran into a desolate road, with large swatches of plains, broken up by mountain ranges along the way. I wasn’t feeling well, and just persevered. Seriously, there were very few towns in the 400 or so miles of road that led to the Utah border. As I studied my Atlas, I noticed that highway had both a number and a name. The name was “The Loneliest Road in America.” I concur. I didn’t make it quite make it to the Utah border. At one point, mid-afternoon, I saw a sign to a campground; I pulled into the campground and tried to take a brief nap. My throat was killing me, and I just wanted to get farther down the road to get closer to my destination–Denver and family. As dusk set in, I saw a roadside park on a hill off the side of the road. I pulled in there, and had a quiet night. There was another camper in the little park. The RV seemed to be pretty settled in. The lights were on in the camper, but I never saw anyone outside. I wondered if it was legal to camp overnight there, but I really didn’t feel like I had much choice. I popped up the tent and had a pretty good night of sleep, despite my very soar throat.

October 7

This is a day that will live in infamy (for me, personally). My goal on this day was to get to Great Basin National Park. It is best known for caving. I did not make reservations for a cave adventure, and so I only made the waiting list, without much hope of being able to see one of the magnificent caves. So, I decided to hike to Baker Lake–an out-and-back trail that is close to 11 miles, and with a pretty significant elevation rise up to the main view, Baker Lake. My throat was still pretty sore. As I dug through the jumbled mess that is the inside of my car to organize what I needed for the hike, I wound up closing up the car and locking my keys inside at the trailhead. Unfortunately, there was no cell service there. About half a dozen cars were parked in the area of my car. There were two trailheads, marking about 4 different trails. I really wanted to get up to see the lake. As it was pretty early in the day, I assumed I could figure out how to get out of my predicament when I got back to my car at the end of the hike. Specifically, I thought I’d meet people at the trailhead who could help me in some way. As it turned out, I only saw one couple hiking on the same trail I was on. They were older than I, and they were taking a lot of time. (I passed them on the way up and on the way down, and on the way back they were still pretty early in their ascent in the last mile or so of the “out” part of the trail.) As I was hiking about 3 miles from my car, my phone buzzed, so I knew i had cell service there. I stopped and called a friend to look up the ranger station phone number, so I could see whether they could help. When I did call, I was told that the one law enforcement officer for the Park had called in sick, so there was no one on staff to help me into my car. Momentarily, I considered that the absence of the police officer might provide other opportunities at the campground ;). But, instead of exploiting that reality, I called AAA for the first time in my 14,000 mile and several week journey. They told me it would take some time to get to me, and they seemed to be unfamiliar with the roads in the National Park. I gave them the best directions I could and speedily headed back down to the trailhead. When I arrived there, mid-afternoon, I popped up my tent and climbed into my sleeping bag, as it was pretty cool up at this elevation. Whenever I heard someone outside, I would unzip my tent and peek out. I ended up having a few good conversations from my car top perch. The first was with a guy who had seen my Bobcat license plate and said that he was an Ohio University grad–both bachelors and masters degrees. Another guy was wearing an OSU sweatshirt. The most notable conversation was with a couple from Wisconsin. As their car pulled away from the trailhead parking lot, the car stopped and the woman ran over to my tent with a handful of food–granola bars, and orange and a small bag of trail mix. She had earlier asked if I would like a ride down to the ranger station, but the park service staff already knew where I was, so I didn’t think it would be helpful, especially with AAA coming. When she came over with the food, she said, “We’re concerned that you might get stuck here overnight. We hope this helps–from one Midwesterner to another.”

      

After waiting for 3 hours from the point of my call to AAA, the rescuer came. It took him about 30 seconds to open my door, and then I was off. I decided my next stop would be Grand Junction, CO.

October 8

I got to Grand Junction. Still not feeling well because of what had become a pretty bad head cold, I decided to stay at a Hampton Inn in Grand Junction. It was good to have a shower and a flush toilet. I walked down the street from the hotel to the downtown on what was a pretty dreary late afternoon. The downtown was very pedestrian friendly, and had cool shops and restaurants. I opted for an Indian restaurant, taking my food back to the hotel to clean out my sinuses.

I rested well and looked forward to getting all the way to Denver the next day.

October 9

I arrived back in Denver, initially planning to stay in a hotel again because of my cold. I didn’t want to inflict it on family members. It turned out that there was already a cold in the house. So, I just stopped at Walgreen’s and got a COVID rapid test. It turned out to be negative, so happily cancelled my hotel reservation and stayed with family while recouping and focusing on my sabbatical and work with dissertation students.

October 10 – 30

I stayed in Denver for awhile, resting my car and tent and visiting family and friends. There were a few hikes and visit from Anna, who became my host for the next few months of my sabbatical year.

October 31 – February 26

At the beginning of this four month period, I travelled to Ames, Iowa to spend time with Anna and Floyd. It was a wonderful time. I made new friends in Iowa, and made occasional trips to other places, noted below: 

        Birthday at Della Viti in Ames

Early January with Emily and Sophie in Asheville, NC