That which fades into the ether.

Pacific Northwest travel log, day 2

At only 212 miles covered, day 2 was all about Crater Lake.

We awoke from our caboose cabin and Maia was happily asleep in her locker private room which gave Valerie and I a peaceful morning to ease into the day while the sun peaked over the mountainous horizon. When Maia awoke, she was excited to be in the train and after getting dressed she wanted to “ride train” while snacking on a granola bar. More than happy to oblige, I climbed up with her and sat on the opposing seat and we pretended our caboose was swaying down the track while making choo choo and whistle noises. Even Valerie gingerly climbed the rungs once to come play train with us. Incidentally, only a few cabooses have the upper level observation deck.

As we gathered the accouterments from the cabin and got the car loaded, Maia wanted to, “play stairs”. In true form, she managed to make a playground out of any available obstacle and kept herself entertained. This quality of hers is, after all, what really let us make this trip in the first place.

With the car mostly packed, we moseyed around the park and checked out the variety of cabooses they had. Maia started pouting when her “play stairs” session was so abruptly terminated by our walkabout

The park is nestled in a valley, and the Cascade mountains are all around. Although it was still smoky, this was the first day we’d seen blue sky in about two weeks.

We got on the open road and decided to get a few miles in and then stop for breakfast. Little regard beyond going north was given as to what road those miles would be covered on — the destination was, after all, breakfast. And indeed it was found when we stopped in Yreka at the Black Bear Diner. Turns out they are small chain throughout the west (38 stores), which is just fine by me as their 7-Grain Almond Granola Pancakes are worth going back for.

Back on the road, I asked Valerie to check the map and remind me what road we’d need to go to Klamath Falls. After a brief study, she responded confused that there’s no obvious reason to go to Klamath Falls. It quickly became clear the road we wanted was already well behind us. So, regarding that GPS purchase we debated about prior to the trip … yeah, it was looking like we’d chosen poorly. But, that’s another story.

We spied a small, unnamed road in the atlas that head more directly to Crater Lake. A quick check of the iPhone showed it did have a name: Dead Indian Memorial Road. Crisis averted!

Dead Indian Memorial Road to the 140 was a very lightly traveled, well maintain road that winds through the forest and proved to be a very pleasant drive. We were quite pleased to have missed the more direct routing of 97 through Klamath Falls.

Eventually, we made it to our intended destination. (The astute reader will note we arrived from the south. This was actually taken on the drive out of the park).

Crater Lake was largely inaccessible due to snow. We arrived at the main visitor center and Maia headed directly for the snow. She wasn’t all that interested in it during the winter, but now it was suddenly fun.

After Maia soaked her shoes enough, we were able to take in the view.

And then Maia found new obstacles to play on.

Did I mention there was still snow?

We stopped at one of the overlooks on the north side of the lake and had a nice picnic snack while Maia ventured off in search of more obstacles. What she got was a spank’n when she refused to stop going toward the road.

More Crater Lake photos in the gallery.

We had a short drive from the lake to Chemult where we had a most unfortunate reservation at the Dawson House Lodge. Let’s just say, pictures posted on the net don’t tell the whole story and hide lots of cleanliness sins that change one’s perspective upon arrival. It was across the street from a truck stop and the lack of AC made for a long night of jake brakes through the open window as the truckers came and went. To add insult to injury, there was only one restaurant open in town and they clearly had no worries about any competition. Diner was edible, but left plenty to be desired beyond that. Maia was the smartest of us — all she’d eat were pre-packaged Saltine crackers.

The best thing about Chemult, was leaving the next day.

Pacific Northwest travel log, day 1

We are back! Spent 2 weeks on the road with a toddler in tow and we all lived to tell about it. 3119 total miles, averaging 51.1 MPG. — love the new car.

Day 1: San Jose to Dunsmuir – 337 miles.

We got off on a late start; too many last minute things that needed to be done before we left. Worst case scenario, we’d miss out on the Shasta Dam tour. We finally hit the open road about 11:30 AM, which gave us plenty of time to catch “breakfast” before Bette’s Ocean View Diner closed.

Bette’s is in Berzerkeley. As Valerie and I walked from the parking lot with Maia in my arms, a young man holding a clipboard took a step toward us and presumed, “I’ll bet you two would like to see a Democrat in office”. Both of us outwardly laughed and just kept going. It’s beyond me why they spend any energy signing up voters in Berkeley given the super majority they already have there.

Even at 12:30 on a Friday, we still had to wait for a table. But, only long enough to let us pick up some packages of scones and pancake mixes for warm breakfasts later in the trip.

Maia achieved a new first: she ate a short stack of pancakes on her own (minus a taste that I took), plus some of Valerie’s eggs, plus my fruit. Kid’s got two hollow legs! Breakfast turned into brunch as we concluded it with a slice of strawberry rhubarb pie. Had we known that no finer pie would be had during the rest of the trip, we’d have ordered two slices instead.

Back on the road we missed not one, but two shortcuts that would have turned us north towards the 5. Ohh well, only 30 miles out of the way, but a solid half-hour spent in stop and go traffic.

It had been about 2 weeks since we’d seen blue sky at home due the majority of CA being on fire. Nearing Redding, it was even worse as we approached some of the largest fires in the state.

We stopped in Red Bluff to eat and stumbled across the Riverside Bar and Grill. The food was quite tasty and the view of the river was very relaxing. But, the odd thing about Red Bluff was the coffee opportunities every other block. I’m hardly exaggerating — the Google search below is clearly missing more than half of them.

We arrived at the Railroad Park in Dunsmuir well after dark. We’d called ahead and they left the light on for us in caboose #28.

I wasn’t sure what to expect; could have been over the top cheesy. But, I have to say, it turned out to be a great way to get the trip started. The caboose is actually quite spacious, larger than an average hotel room. They left the large locker in place that had a ladder to the observation deck seating. And, like every caboose would, it was complete with a pressure gauge to monitor the health of the train’s brake system. At $140 it was only marginally on the splurge side of the budget.

Incidentally, the locker (closet) pictured above was huge. The pack-n-play Maia sleeps in fit with ease, giving her a private room all to herself.

I wasn’t quite ready for sleep, so, I shot a few photos around the park. The old steam engine was really something you don’t find often. It’s specially built for steep logging roads. Note the three vertical pistons driving a crank shaft. The crank has a few wiggle joints and a right-angle gear drive assembly on every axle, making it “all wheel drive” — even the tender car! The boiler is actually offset to the left side in order to make enough room for the pistons on the right — looks out of balanced when viewed from the front.

There are more photos from around the park in the gallery.

Pearl Harbor Day

In case this was before your time, as is likely to be the case, 65 years ago today, the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor. Since I blog about things that are all too easily forgotten, what better a subject to post on.

I freely admit, I did not wake up this morning and look at the date and immediately say a prayer for all that paid the ultimate sacrifice to motivate the nation into fighting the ever spreading fascism that, up until this day, had remained on foreign soil. Sadly, I had to read Lex’s Pearl Harbor post to be reminded of the significance of this day in history when the country was poked in the eye and that generation learned a brutal lesson about complacency in the face of tyranny abroad.

Sure, it happened 32 years before I was born. My memory is not permanently etched with where I was, what I was doing, or how I’d come to learn of the dreadful event as it is with 9/11. The impact is less today than it was 65 years ago because the immediate connection with the loss no longer exists for most of my generation, and those after me. Time heals all wounds for a good reason; lest there be no forgiveness when it is due and the world would not possibly be the (relatively) peaceful place that it is today.

But, that doesn’t mean we should ever forget the fallen, nor the lessons learned. We owe a debt of gratitude that cannot be justly expressed to the generations before us. Lex did a superb job, as he always does, and I suggest you go read it now if you haven’t already.

And then take a moment of silence of your own.