Tag Archives: camping

The Eclipse Trip, Day 2: Finding the Perfect Spot

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I make new friends at Four Corners Camp.

I woke up very early, as I sometimes do. It was still dark out. There were billions of stars in the sky over our camp.

I made coffee and settled down at the table to write up a blog post about the previous day’s activities. It got light out. The three guys who had parked next to me and slept in the woods came back to their truck. I watched them load up their gear and drive out. No one stirred at the other camper.

Forest Trail
Technically, this is Forest Road 100. But realistically, it’s just a two-track trail into the forest.

Since I hadn’t yet put photos in the post and I didn’t have any kind of cell signal at all anyway, I closed up my laptop and made breakfast. Then Penny and I went for a very short walk — about half a mile — up the forest road that had been gated off. A small creek babbled along one side, hidden in the weeds. I heard birds and the occasional sound of a passing car on the main road. I’d worn the wrong shoes; I was wearing street shoes but I should have been wearing hikers to protect my soles from the sharp rocks that had once graveled the two-track trail. So we turned around and headed back. I really liked the way the sunlight shined through the tops of the weeds.

It didn’t take long to get ready to leave. Really: it’s just a matter of putting away loose objects. I’ve learned over the years I’ve been RVing that if you put everything away when you’re done using it, you can be ready to go in just a few minutes.

When I rolled out of my campsite at about 8 AM, there had still been no movement from the other RV. Talk about sleeping in!

On the Road Again

I continued on route 395 southbound, passing Dale and the 4127 foot Meadow Brook Summit. It was around then that I started noticing tents and RVs parked alongside the road in places that looked like they might be public land. But the biggest crowd I saw was at Ritter Butte Summit (elev. 3993). It was a mostly grassy hillside with what looked from the main road like a low fire tower on top. There had to be at least two dozen campers in tents and RVs parked all over an open area just off the road. It was tempting to just pull off and join them, but I was convinced that a better spot was up ahead.

I did pull over, though, and that was to use my phone and make sure I’d downloaded maps I needed for going off the grid. I just GaiaGPS on my iPhone and iPad and I highly recommend it. It’s one of the few apps that allow you to download topo maps — as well as other maps you might find useful — so they’re handy if you don’t have a cell signal. I had a five bar LTE signal at Ritter Butte thanks to the cell tower next to the fire tower.

When my map downloads were set up and my podcasts updated, I continued on my way. Google told me 50 miles before that I needed to make a left on Main Street. Main Street turned out to be in the small town of Long Creek, which was really rocking with eclipse visitors. I didn’t stop. Instead, I made the left where instructed and headed southeast along a narrow chip-sealed road.

I passed a few farms and ranches as the road cut through a grassy landscape with forests on hilltops nearby. Then the chip-seal turned to gravel and I entered the forest.

Now campers were common on either side of the road. This was national forest (either Umatilla or Whitman or maybe even Malheur — they all run into each other in this area) and camping was allowed pretty much anywhere. People had set up little communities of RVs and tents here, there, and everywhere. I wondered whether I could just join in on one of them and was sorely tempted when I saw three Lance rigs just like mine parked out in a field. But I still thought a better spot was ahead, so I kept going.

Have I mentioned the signs? I don’t think so. I started seeing them the day before, just south of Pendleton on route 395, but they were out here, too. Flashing construction signs, all with the same basic message: “Fire Danger Extreme” and “No Campfires” and “Do Not Park on Dry Grass.” I think I passed at least five of them between Pendleton and my final destination.

Magone Lake and the Campsite Hunt

What was that destination? Magone Lake. The line for totality would pass right though it. A small lake in the national forest, surrounded by unpaved roads, hillsides, and trees, about 20 miles northeast of John Day. I thought it might be remote enough to be a little less crowded than other popular destinations.

Well, it might have been less crowded, but it was still crowded. I reached the turnoff and was startled to see a freshly asphalted one-lane road with turnouts. There were people camped out alongside the road all the way down to the lake. One guy had even pitched a tent in the road shoulder. Of course, the two campgrounds were full. There were people milling about all over the place — exactly the kind of scene I wanted to avoid. This was at 10 AM, a full day before the eclipse. It would only get worse.

Magone Lake
Magone Lake is a pretty little mountain lake about 20 miles from John Day.

I drove to the boat ramp area and parked to take a look around. As usual, people commented about Penny, who I had on a leash. Everyone was friendly and upbeat — they probably already had overnight parking spots! I found a trail that looked like it would go around the lake and considered doing a short hike, but decided that I’d be better off finding my campsite and saving the hike for after the eclipse. So we got back into the truck and started out.

I can go into a long story here about how I used my downloaded topo map to find roads to explore that might have good campsites on them. I could tell you about how many people I saw camped in the most inappropriate places (think dense woods with no view of the sky). I could even tell you how I actually parked and got the truck up on leveling blocks in a lonely forest campsite not far from the lake. But the short version is that I decided that I didn’t want to experience the eclipse alone and needed to find an existing camp to join.

Eventually, after many bumpy miles on rugged dirt and gravel roads, I wound up in a place called Four Corners. It’s a crossroads that just happens to have some relatively parking spots and fields. Trucks, cars, and RVs were parked where they could fit. I cruised through with both windows open, looking for a place I might be able to squeeze in the truck without bothering other campers.

I was eying a patch of dirt near a large motorhome when I heard a guy yell out, “Innagadadavida!” I looked and found a guy a little older than me looking at me. He yelled it again, at me.

What followed was me selling myself as a good addition to their campsite who would take up very little room. Yes, he was expecting seven more people (none of whom showed up, by the way) and the folks with the motorhome were expecting three (who did show up later on). My sales pitch worked and they pulled aside their makeshift road block to let me in. Soon I was leveling the camper on the blocks and putting my solar panels out to soak up the sun. I’d be there for more than 24 hours.

It was about noon.

At Four Corners Camp

Although the Innagadadavida guy (Jay) had invited me over to their camp across the road, I made myself lunch first. Later, I went over and spent some time with him and his friends. The next day would be his and his twin brother John’s birthday. John was there, too, along with some other people whose names I’ve already forgotten. They had two ukuleles and a guitar and an electric base guitar (powered by an inverter connected to a 12 volt car battery) and a drum kit. Short a drummer, they asked me to sit in and even gave me a few drumming lessons. I managed to keep the beat with the base drum’s foot pedal, but getting my two hands to act independently was a whole other story. In the end, I kept rhythm with a drumstick on an empty whiskey bottle while John played the drums. It was a fun way to spend the afternoon, just hanging out with new friends.

A stranger is often a friend you haven’t met yet.

I flew my drone a little, too. Not enough to annoy people — at least I hope not. I wanted some aerial views of the camp, which I began calling Four Corners Camp. We were on the fringes. There were probably two hundred people camped out within 50 acres or so. More people came in all afternoon and even after sunset.

Campsite from the Air
Our campsite from the air.

The motorhome people’s companions arrived: three retirement age men who set up a 25-year-old tent that looked brand new. The motorhome people included a husband (Amir) and wife, two of their sons, and one son’s girlfriend. Most of them hiked to the lake in the afternoon. I’m not sure, but I think it was a long hike.

I did some repairs. I’d gotten the bright idea to put my clothes in the cabinets in the sleeping area and use the drawer under one dining bench for books and computer stuff I’d brought along. It would make that stuff handier. Trouble was, that stuff is also heavier and the constant bumping around on back roads had caused the screws to come loose on one of the drawer support arms. I had to use some Gorilla Glue to help the screws bite and stick to get the support arm back in place. I had everything I needed for the repair so it wasn’t a big deal. But I did have a lot of junk just sitting out waiting to be put away for most of the evening.

Sunset
We had a nice sunset with high, thin clouds.

Mother Nature treated us to a nice sunset. We were a bit worried about the cloud cover, but I suspected it would clear up overnight.

To that end, I prepped my Nikon for a night photo shoot, getting all the settings on the camera and actually setting up the tripod outside my door. If I woke up as early as I had that morning, I could go out and shoot before dawn.

I had a salad for dinner. Later, the motorhome people offered me a hamburger, which I declined. I did hang out for a while in their motorhome with them. They were a happy bunch. The two boys were headed off to college soon and their parents were semi retired and planning a cross-country trip in the motorhome, which was new to them. I was glad to see people living life while they were still young enough to enjoy it. So many people wait too damn long.

Penny and I went back to the camper at around 9 PM. I spent some time reading a book about eclipses that I’d bought for the trip but soon fell asleep with the book in my hands. I turned out the light and went to bed.

The Eclipse Trip, Day 1: Packing and Heading Out

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My long-planned trip to see the total solar eclipse finally begins.

My tenth season as a cherry drying pilot officially ended on August 16, leaving me free to begin my vacation. I like to tell people that I get seven months of vacation time each year, but that’s a bit of an exaggeration. Truth is, when I’m not on contract to dry wet cherry trees (roughly June though August) or warm cold almond trees (roughly March and April), I still do get the occasional flying job. I did two long charters this past week and have another scheduled for next Saturday. Those jobs basically dictated when I could take my vacation.

But more important was timing and location of the total solar eclipse: August 21 along a path that went through central Oregon. I began planning late last year, when I first heard about the eclipse and its path. Although in some years, my cherry season has gone as late as August 25, last year it ended on July 30. That would give me plenty of time to get into position for the event. But Mother Nature fooled all of us this year with a longer than usual winter. Cherry season started late and it looked, at first, as if I’d be on contract until August 23. While I was scrambling to figure out a way to make the 200-mile trip south while still on contract without letting my orchards go without coverage — likely by having one of my other pilots stick around at a huge cost to me — Mother Nature turned up the heat. Contract dates shifted and my last contract was set to end on August 16. Phew.

When I realized that a quick trip wouldn’t be necessary, I planned a week-long vacation and blocked it out on my calendar so I wouldn’t be tempted to book something else. Last year’s vacation started on my last contract day; I had the camper parked and ready to go when my client called to confirm that they’d finished picking. On that trip, I’d gone north into the North Cascades in Washington and British Columbia. It was my first big trip with my first truck camper, The Turtleback. Since then, I’ve downsized a little bit to a newer rig without a pop-out slide. I took it on a weekend-long mushroom hunt back in May, but this would be my first big trip with what I’ve been calling T2.

Packing Up

Over the summer, T2 was home to one of my contract pilots, who camped out in it in Quincy, AZ for about a month. I brought it home and put it away in mid July. Since he’d cleaned it very well, I didn’t do much in it other than strip off the linens and put them and all the towels, etc. through the wash. Busy with other things, I just left the folded up laundry in the camper. Later, I took some of the pots and pans out to finish up the furnishing of my glamping tent setup. (That’s quite a saga and I promise to blog about it soon.) So this week, when I went to look at what needed to be done to prepare for my trip, I found that I needed to do quite a bit of packing.

I started on Thursday and Friday, adding back the things I’d removed and taking inventory of what I had. In addition to food and clothes, I needed a full complement of gear for off-the grid living. I had no desire to park in a KOA-style, full-hookup campground while I was away, so that meant I’d need DC chargers for my devices, my 100-watt inverter in case I wanted to watch a movie on the TV, and my solar panel to keep the batteries charged in the event that I decided to park somewhere for a few days. (And yes, I’ve already decided to get solar panels permanently installed on the roof of this rig; my last one had a panel and it really was convenient.) I decided against bringing my generator since I’d honestly prefer having no power at all over listening to it, even though it’s a very quiet Honda. (I’m still sitting on the fence about getting a generator installed in this rig; my last one had one and it came in handy when my batteries decided to crap out during my long winter trip.)

So little by little I got things packed into T2 on Thursday and Friday. I divided my time between casual packing, running errands, and working on that glamping setup with a handyman friend.

I should mention here that one of the quirks about T2 is that it doesn’t have a queen sized bed like most truck campers. Instead, it has two narrow twins that can be zipped together to form a queen. They are typical camper mattresses — in other words, not very comfortable — and since I sleep on a king bed at home, downsizing to a narrow twin bed is quite a challenge. So on Amazon Prime Day, I took advantage of an offer for a roll-up queen mattress that had gotten very good reviews, planning to pull the two twins and replace them with a queen. The only reason I left them as twin beds for this trip was because I’d invited two different friends to join me and the twin beds made sleeping arrangements easy. While I didn’t really expect either one to say yes — who knew that some people have trouble making time for something as significant as a total solar eclipse viewing? — I figured I’d leave the beds as they were just in case. In the end, I talked myself out of making the switch until my big winter trip. So the new mattress remains rolled up in its box until November.

Eclipse Reminder
Worried that I might forget (as if!) I set up a reminder for the eclipse; it went off on my phone roughly 48 hours before the actual time. I’d originally planned to drive down to a friend’s house near Salem for the eclipse.

Although I’d originally planned to depart first thing Sunday morning, by Friday afternoon it looked like I might be able to pull off a Saturday noon departure. My house-sitter would come on Sunday, but I wasn’t worried much about the garage cats or chickens she’d be taking care of; I have them set up so that short absences would not be a problem. But on Saturday, as I continued to pack and prepare, noon came and went. I admit that I worked at a leisurely pace — one of the things I really like about my life these days is that I’m seldom rushed — but I honestly didn’t expect it to take so long. Keep in mind that I also had to clean house for the house-sitter. I was finally packed with T2 on the truck by 2 PM. After showering, dressing, and gathering together a few more things, Penny and I climbed into the truck. When we left at 3:02 PM, my two 3-month kittens were playing in the front yard; I’d left the big garage door open just enough for them to get in and out.

I made only one stop before heading out of town: Les Schwab to get the tire pressure checked and adjust the tie-down screws. I was heading out of town at 3:33 PM.

First Day’s Drive

Since I doubted that I’d make it all the way to my final destination before nightfall — and I don’t like to drive in unknown territory at night — I plugged a destination along the way into Google Maps on my iPhone: Pendleton, OR.

Pendleton was about 2/3 of the way: a 3-1/2 drive. Google wanted me to drive the usual route south to Tri-Cities and then take a few freeways east. That’s how I often went on my annual migration between Wickenburg, AZ and Quincy, WA and I never was fond of the route — especially the traffic in Richland. Instead, I told Google I’d take the slightly longer way that did the freeway driving up front on I-90 to Moses Lake and then south on farm roads.

I ended up with a fast drive on route 17 almost to Pasco, where I crossed the Snake River near its confluence with the Columbia. Then route 12 to 730. There was a really pretty stretch of road right alongside the Columbia River through one of its many flood-carved gorges and, once again, I thought about taking a boat trip from just downriver from the Priest Rapids Dam to the ocean. All the dams downstream from Priest Rapids have locks, making it very possible to take such a trip. I always wondered if my little boat was up to the task.

A sign and Google announced, almost in unison, that I’d entered Oregon.

I turned away from the river on route 37, which turned out to be a twisty road that wound up a canyon through farmland. There were cut wheat fields on either side of the road, here and there, with a few farm houses and grain elevators every few miles. I had to slow down considerably. One thing about driving with a truck camper on the truck is that it completely changes the truck’s center of gravity, raising it a few feet. Slowing down to take curves is not optional — it’s required. As I drove, I’d glance in the rear view mirrors to watch T2 swaying back and forth. I’d need to remember to open cabinets slowly when I parked for the night.

I rolled into Pendleton about an hour before sunset, not quite sure where I needed to go next. I pulled into the first gas station I came to. In Oregon, fuel is full-service everywhere, although if you drive a diesel truck, they’ll let you fuel it yourself. I’d rather let them do it, so I did. The attendant was a friendly Hispanic guy who took my credit card for the pump while I removed the tie-down screw that made it impossible to open the fuel door. He handed back the card and got the fuel pump going. Then, while I climbed back into the truck to consult my Oregon map, he and another attendant did something I still can’t believe: they cleaned my truck’s windshield.

Oregon Full Service
When they say “full service” at an Oregon gas station, they mean it.

Understand that this is no small task. My truck is big. To reach the windshield, you need a long handle on the washer/squeegee. They didn’t have that. What they did have were stepladders, though, and they pulled those out, one on either side of the truck, and got to work. They chatted as they did the job giving me the impression that they did this all the time.

I honestly don’t know if I paid more to fuel there than at some truck stop near the highway, but I don’t care. There’s something to be said about service.

I climbed back down when the fueling was done and refastened the tie-down screw. I thanked the attendant, wondering, in an off-hand way, if I was supposed to give him a tip. But I am old enough to remember when service like that could be found at every gas station, so I didn’t. He didn’t seem to expect one.

I moved the truck away from the pumps and parked for a moment to program Google Maps on my iPhone. I plugged in my final destination and was told it was about 2 hours away. I figured I’d continue on my route and find a place to park for the night along the way.

First Night’s Campsite

What a lot of folks don’t understand is that camping in public lands is legal unless posted otherwise. So all I needed to do was get into the national forest and find a place to pull off the road for the night.

And no, camping alone in the forest doesn’t scare me. Why should it?

Trouble was, I wasn’t exactly sure how far I was from the national forest or whether there would be suitable camping areas along the way.

Just south of Pendleton on route 395 is mostly farmland and ranches — large expanses of grassy, treeless terrain with rolling hills and the occasional cattle pen. Even if the side roads weren’t gated, my rig would stand out like a sore thumb if parked for the night. I wasn’t worried about the drivers in passing cars seeing me. What I was worried about was settling in for the night and having a rancher or state patrolman tell me I was camping on private property and had to move. I really don’t like driving at night.

So I continued on my way, following the road as it wound up into the hills. There were more and more fir trees as I climbed. Soon I was in forest. I started getting hopeful.

There were other vehicles on the road ahead of me including other campers likely headed south for the same reason I was. Most of them were slower than me and I passed them. I was stuck for a long while behind a truck pulling an ancient fifth wheel as it labored up the curvy mountain road. The sun got lower and lower until it disappeared from view behind a hill. I didn’t see it again that day.

I saw a sign for the Battle Mountain day use area and pulled over. It looked like a day use area — you know, the kind of place with picnic tables and hiking trails — and since those usually prohibit camping, I kept going. Seeing a “Camping 12 Miles” sign right after that confirmed my suspicion; why would they put a sign right there if camping were allowed at the day use area?

Daylight faded.

The campground was a state park site with basic amenities like a level paved parking space, picnic table, and maybe fire pits. I don’t really know because I didn’t get to drive through. A ranger was at the entrance, chatting with the guy who’d pulled in before me. When he left, I rolled up and said, “Campground full?”

“Campground is full,” he confirmed. He then told me that 12 miles back up the road was a day use area that allowed camping.

I told him that I’d assumed it didn’t allow camping because it was a day use area. He said that they were changing rules all over the place. He seemed frustrated. I figured the change was likely connected to the eclipse and meeting the demand of people looking for a place to spend the night.

I asked him what options I had further south. I told him I didn’t need a campground, that I just needed a place to park. He mentioned wide pull-outs along the side of the road. I’d been seeing some of these pull outs and although they were wide enough to park in, traffic would be passing close all night. So when he mentioned forest roads another 20 miles down south, my ears perked up. “Look for the turnoff for Olive Lake,” he told me. “Twenty miles.”

I pulled out and continued south. By now, it was getting dark. I really wanted to park for the night while I could still see what was around me. I drove for about 10 minutes, passing one possible spot along the road along the way. And then paydirt: a large turnout for a forest road.

There was an SUV with a small pull trailer already backed into it, as far away from the road as possible. I didn’t want to intrude. There was a two-track road — the forest road, I guess — leading further into the forest and I started up it. It ended with a gate about 100 yards from the campers. I backed down the way I’d come.

I stopped the truck and got out. There was a woman lounging in a hammock. She had a small dog that barked at me and she laughed. I wondered if she was also traveling alone but then I saw a companion poke his head out of the camper.

“Would you mind if I parked here, too?” I asked. It’s getting too dark for me to continue.”

“Sure,” she called back. “Park wherever you like.”

I moved the truck so the camper’s door faced into the forest, giving them plenty of room while still staying quite a bit off the road. Then I turned off the truck. Simple as that.

First Night Parking
I shot this photo the next morning. The other camper was really backed deep against the woods around the parking area.

The other campers had two dogs: a small one on a leash and a large one that was loose. The little dog barked as little dogs will. Penny wanted to go meet it, but it wanted nothing to do with her. So she met the bigger dog, who came over to be petted. Not wanting to intrude on the other campers and eager to get inside to use the toilet and make dinner, I called Penny back, thanked the other campers, and climbed into T2.

It seemed to be dark within minutes. It was after 8 PM.

I was making dinner when another vehicle pulled in. After trying the road and then backing down, it parked between me and the main road. I saw lights in the back of the vehicle and I assumed the campers were setting up a tent. But later I saw lights on the other side of the SUV campers; whoever was in the new vehicle had set up camp in the forest. It wasn’t until the morning that I saw them: three young guys in a tiny pickup with very little gear. I suspect they camped out under the stars. Ah, to be young again!

Later, a big touring motorcycle pulled in. Boy, was he out of place! I don’t know what he expected to find, but it wasn’t in our makeshift campground. He idled for a while in the parking area, probably consulting a map, and then left.

Dinner First Night
The only thing I hate more than eating off paper plates is washing dishes when I’m tired.

I had a nice dinner of steamed asparagus and reheated leftover chicken breast, followed by some blueberry “ice cream” I’d made at home that morning and stowed in the freezer. I let Penny out for a pee before turning in for the night. The other campers were in their little RV; the lights were on. Overhead, the sky was full of stars. I regretted not having my camera set up for some night photography.

I climbed up to bed a little while later. Although there are two beds and I had Penny’s bed set up on the other one, she insisted on finding space on my bed. She’s a small dog but it’s a small bed and I’m not a small person. My mind is made up: the queen mattress is going into the camper as soon as I get home.

I studied the map for a while, disappointed that my destination is so small that it didn’t appear. But that might be a good thing: maybe other people won’t find it and it’ll be less crowded than I expect.

I turned in at around 9:30. The lights were still on in the RV next door and I could see headlamps bobbing around in the woods beyond them.

My Long, Dry Summer

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Two very different summers.

Forgive me readers for I have sinned. It has been nearly three weeks since my last blog post.

All joking aside, I haven’t blogged for two reasons:

  • I’ve been very busy. Let’s face it, I’m usually a pretty busy person. If there isn’t something I have to do, I make something to do. (This is a throwback to my crazy divorce days when I was eager to find things to take my mind off my future wasband’s hurtful insanity.) I’m never at a loss for projects to keep me busy.
  • I haven’t been inspired. I need a reason to blog. An idea, a thought. Something I read online that I want to respond to. An interesting thing that happened to me. And this summer has been pretty dry in more ways than one.

So I guess you might consider this a blog post that, in part, explains why I haven’t been blogging. And it also fills you in on what I’ve been up to this dry, dry summer.

The Projects

I live on 10 acres of land on a shelf overlooking the Columbia River Valley. I absolutely love it here. I’ve got everything I’ve ever wanted in a home: space, views, privacy, and plenty of land to do whatever I like with. I bought the land back in 2013, the day after my divorce papers came through, and immediately started developing it for my home. The building began in 2014 and I completed my living space — well, enough to move in, anyway — in spring 2015.

My House
My home sits on a shelf overlooking the Columbia River Valley near Wenatchee, WA. (And yes, this is a drone photo.)

My home isn’t a typical stick-built house. It’s a “pole building” that’s primarily a 2800 square foot garage to store my vehicles and other stuff — which I admittedly have too much of — with a 1200 square foot finished living space on top. I was originally going to build a much smaller garage with a more modest living space and then build a house to go with it, but in the interest of saving time and money, I built just one big building and didn’t skimp on the amenities in my living space. It’s very comfortable for one or two people — although I admit I really do enjoy the utter freedom and flexibility of living alone so I’m unlikely to share my space anytime soon.

My Great Room
My great room, with windows overlooking that wonderful view.

I did much of the work on the living space myself and I haven’t quite finished. For example, I still have to finish the trim up on the loft and in my bedroom, I still have to finish some tile work around my shower stall, I still have to dress up the stairs a bit, and I really do want to tile the entrance hall. Recently, I decided that instead of using the loft as a guest bedroom, I wanted to move my desk up there and make it my office so I’ve got some furniture moving ahead of me. And yes, I’m still unpacking. I really did pack too much stuff from my old Arizona home.

Other than minor building-related projects, I have the usual chores related to owning a home: mowing the lawn, gardening, making repairs to things that break or just need attention. So far, everything I’ve needed fix has been something I can fix myself, so it’s just a matter of finding the problem, figuring out what needs to be done, and doing it. I have a lot of tools now — I actually have a whole workshop in my garage — so I seldom need to buy or borrow anything to get a job done.

Weed control is a serious concern here; the county requires us to control our noxious weeds. I’ve been at war with the kochia since my very first week as a landowner and I’m definitely winning. This year I’ve started working on the knapweed that seems to have begun appearing since the kochia has been killed off. I also identified and destroyed some tumbleweed, which I absolutely abhor since trying to deal with it at some northern Arizona vacation property years ago. The trick is to cut or pull out these weeds before they go to seed. This year, I also bought my third (and last) weed sprayer, a 15-gallon ATV-mounted tank with a DC pump. Yes, I use various chemicals to spray the weeds along my 1,000+ feet of road frontage and in my driveway. (Lecture me all you want about “natural” mixtures of salt and vinegar, but nothing works quite like Roundup or some of the specialized broadleaf killers they sell at the local farm supply store.)

The Big Projects

I do have two large self-inflicted projects, and they are related.

One is a platform for a 12 x 14 cabin tent that I’ll be setting up for “glamping.” I ordered the tent from the Colorado Yurt Company. Built to my specifications, it should arrive here on Wednesday. It’ll have canvas and screen sides so whoever is staying in it can configure it as they see fit — these days, I’d roll up the canvas on at least three sides and enjoy the views and airflow through the screen. It also has a 12 x 8 foot covered porch. Of course, all this has to be built on a custom platform, which I’ve constructed, with the assistance of two pilot friends, out near my lookout point bench. The whole thing is made from pressure-treated lumber with Trex decking. Assembled with screws, it can be disassembled and moved at any time. (This is actually a good thing since I’ve already decided I want to move it for next year.) It’ll be furnished with a queen bed, night tables, dresser, and table and chairs (on the deck). I can’t wait to sleep in it!

Tent Platform
Here’s the platform as it looked last week. The only thing left to do is lay the rest of the Trex and then put up the vertical supports.

My Portable Potty Building
Here’s my portable potty, under construction in my garage. One of the benefits of having a huge garage is being able to do projects like this in relative comfort.

Of course, the one thing the tent doesn’t come with is a bathroom. One option was renting a portable toilet — you know, those blue buildings you see at outdoor events. I’d rented one while my home was under construction — mostly for the builders, since I had my own bathroom in the RV I was living in at the time — and learned that if they give you a newish one and maintain it weekly, it isn’t nasty at all. But it does cost $90/month and I’d have to look at it all summer. And it isn’t quite the experience I want my guests to have. So I cooked up the idea of building a portable bathroom with an RV toilet and holding tank. I got the trailer kit at Harbor Freight, framed out the building on it, and bought a holding tank and RV toilet. I’m about 75% done at this point; I’ll do the plumbing this week, test it, and then put on the walls, door, and roof. I can then put it in position anywhere on my property when needed and tow it back to one of my RV dump ports when I need to. Over the winter, I can drain it and store it in my garage. This is a complex project — mostly because of the plumbing work involved — but I’m enjoying the challenge of making something I cooked up in my head become reality. (Like my home.)

Other Activities

I do occasionally find time to socialize with friends.

My Funny Little Boat
Here’s my funny little boat, parked at the dock near Pybus Market in downtown Wenatchee. (Every time I use the boat, I’m reminded of my wasband’s second divorce lawyer, who tried desperately in court to get me to admit that it was worth more than the $1,500 I’d paid for it. He even claimed my wasband would pay me $1,000 for it — which I accepted — but my wasband backed down; he obviously didn’t want it. It’s just an example of the divorce court antics, likely fueled by my wasband’s old whore, that I witnessed back in 2013. I wound up getting the boat in the divorce — it was mine, after all — without having to pay him a penny.)

I’ve had the boat out twice this summer so far. I have to admit that I was surprised that it started so easily on our first outing; I’m terrible about maintaining things I don’t use regularly and the battery was completely dead when I put the charger on it in June. Neither of our outings were interesting; in both cases, I was taking friends out for a ride. We did the usual: motor at full throttle — for a whopping 32 miles per hour — up the river to the Rocky Reach Dam and then drift back for a while on the current. It isn’t much of a boat, but it does get me out on the water and I really do enjoy that. I might take it out to other stretches of the river when cherry season ends and I’m pretty sure I’ll be taking it with me to Arizona this winter; I already bought the hitch extender I need to hook it up behind my truck with the camper on top. I’m really looking forward to getting it on the Colorado River and some of the Salt River lakes near Phoenix.

Packing Cherries
The cherry packing line at my friends’ orchard. It’s actually a lot of fun when you do it with friends and there’s some good music playing.

I also helped some friends pack rainier cherries earlier this month. They have two cherry orchards and have arranged to sell rainier cherries directly to a Seattle area supermarket chain. I worked with about a dozen people to sort and pack cherries over a two-day period. It was a paying job, but I took a 15-pound box of cherries instead of cash. I’ve got about a pound left.

Later that week, my cherry packing friends invited me to join them and and a big group of other friends to watch a production of The Sound of Music at Leavenworth Summer Theater. Not only was their future daughter-in-law playing the lead character, Maria, but it was her birthday. It was nice chatting with cast members after the show. And you really can’t beat a musical production nicely produced outdoors on a warm summer night.

I’ve also done a bit of entertaining, from having a few neighbors over for wine and homemade cheese on the deck to full-blown barbecues where I’ve made my famous smoked ribs. I really enjoy having people over to share my home with them.

The Animals

Of course, some of my time has been taken up with caring for my growing menagerie.

Penny turned 5 — can you believe it? — this year and has become quite the spoiled little mutt, going with me nearly every where I go. She loves to come with me in the helicopter but has learned that when I’m wearing my flight suit, it’s likely to be a very boring long ride over cherry trees so she stays clear when I put it on.

After losing my chickens twice to a neighborhood dog last year, I started a new flock of chickens in March with 18 chicks. I built them a big chicken coop and it has been working out very well. The chickens just started laying about two weeks ago; I’m now getting 6 eggs a day and expect that to go up to about 16. I’ll be selling off most of the hens as layers — there’s actually a decent market for that around here — and keep just 5 or 6. In the meantime, I bought eight more chicks to get them started before winter. My goal is to keep a young flock and keep selling off the layers before they’re a year old. I’ll always have fresh eggs and the money I get from hen sales will cover all my costs.

Solo the Cat
This is Solo, one of my three mousers-in-training.

I also added three kittens to my home. They are mousers-in-training and currently live in the garage. They’ll keep the mouse population down — it’s impossible to keep up in the garage and garden without resorting to poison — which, in turn, should keep the snake population down. (I had to kill a rattler the other day; my first kill since 2014.) I’ve had limited success with feral “barn cats” in the past, but Penny tends to annoy them to the point that they leave. I figured that raising kittens with Penny will prevent them from wanting to run off. It seems to be working so far; she plays with them quite often and one of them really seems to like it. But the youngest of the batch is probably going back to where I got her; she doesn’t seem to understand what the litter box is for and I’m tired of cleaning cat crap off the concrete floor.

And for the folks wondering about the winter when I’m away, the chickens and the cats will be fine. I have a good, reliable housesitter.

As for wildlife, with five hummingbird feeders hanging from my deck, I get lots of hummingbird activity. And the bighorn sheep, which came down from the cliffs daily late last summer, have just started appearing every few days. It’ll be interesting to see if they become a nuisance again.

The Weather

The weather this summer has been absolutely amazing. Day after day of blue skies and temperatures in the 80s and 90s. I don’t even think we topped 100°F this year. While that’s good for the folks who grow cherries and alfalfa or come to the area for vacation, it’s isn’t good for the helicopter pilots who live or travel here to dry cherries. And that would be me.

This Week's Weather
This is the upcoming forecast for Wenatchee per the National Weather Service. But it could be the forecast for nearly any week over the past month or so. No rain.

My main source of income these days is from my cherry drying work. (Don’t know what that is? Read this old blog post, which explains it. Or watch this video to see me in action.) My business has been growing steadily since around 2011. I now build a team of up to six pilots to cover the hundreds of acres of cherry orchards I have under contract.

This year, my season began on June 1 and will end on August 16. During that time, I’m pretty much stuck in this area, waiting for it to rain. The season got off to a promising start: my team, which consisted of just me and one other pilot in early June, flew a total of about 5 hours. But then the rest of the team began assembling and the skies dried up. None of us have flown in over a month.

Needless to say, my first-year pilots are pretty pissed off about that. But I warned them. When asked how many hours we could expect to fly, I told them the truth: 0 to 40. As I explained to them, if you can’t make it work financially with just the standby pay, you shouldn’t sign up. That might be all you get. And for two of the pilots who have come and gone so far, that’s exactly what they got: standby pay. And at this point, it looks like another two pilots will be in the same boat.

Fortunately for all of us, the standby pay isn’t too shabby. If you can keep your costs down, you can make good money. The smart folks who do this work with me treat their contracts as a sort of paid vacation. With perfect weather and no chance of rain, they can hike, go out on the water, fish, or do any number of local things while getting paid by the day to just hang around with a helicopter parked nearby. But when it rains, they’d better be at their helicopter with their phone handy and ready to fly.

What folks don’t seem to understand is that the weather here can change quickly. This is my tenth summer in the Wenatchee area and I’ve seen days like today where there isn’t any forecasted chance of rain, cloud up steadily. Soon there are isolated thunderstorms dumping rain on orchards. That’s why I can’t leave the area. Even with a forecast like the one shown above, I know that things can change. And I know that if I don’t have a helicopter over an orchard within 15 minutes of a call, I’m going to lose a client.

So yes, I take it very seriously.

I should mention that although this is my worst (so far) cherry drying season, last year was definitely my best. Although it didn’t rain much early in the season, by this time last year it was raining all day for several days in a row. We flew like crazy, sometimes drying the same orchard four or five times in a day. The growers were miserable and I could hear it in their voices when they called. We were doing our best with prompt responses and constant flying, but at a certain point even we couldn’t save the crop. A lot of cherries went unpicked.

But that’s the way it is in agriculture: you get good years and bad years. A good year in cherries is extremely profitable for growers — which is why they grow cherries. A bad year? Well that’s what insurance is for.

Water Tank
The Girl Scout motto is “Be Prepared” and I really do believe it’s a good idea.

Meanwhile, the dry weather this year has turned the area into a tinderbox. Dry lightning started a fire in the hills beyond the cliffs behind my house back in late June. Although there was no evacuation notice for my road, I admit I got a bit uneasy watching a pair of single engine air tankers on floats scoop up water down on the Columbia River and climb up to drop it just out of sight behind my home. Things got even scarier when they were joined by a pair of Hueys with buckets that dipped in my neighbor’s irrigation pond and climbed up right over my home. Not only did I test my fire suppression system, but I put my 425-gallon portable water tank on a utility trailer I have, filled it with water, and prepared to connect it to a pump and generator as my own private fire department. Then the wind shifted and the fire went elsewhere, burning thousands of acres before they finally put it out. The tank of water is still on the trailer, just in case I need it. I’d be pretty pissed off if a fire took out my new tent platform.

Vacation Plans

Fortunately, my season will end right before the eclipse. Like last year, I’ll have my camper on my truck, all packed and ready to go when that last day rolls along. Then I’ll be off for my first vacation.

This year, I’m heading south to a remote area of Oregon where I hope to watch the eclipse from the shores of a small lake. Then I’ll make a leisurely drive back home, stopping in Walla Walla for some wine tasting and Palouse Falls for some night photography. I’ll be back in Wenatchee in time for a charter flight booked months ago.

Other trips planned:

  • Five or so days with a friend at his place on Lopez Island. We’re still sitting on the fence on whether I should fly us out there in the helicopter or drive. (Guess which way I’m leaning?)
  • A weekend-long mushroom foray with the Puget Sound Mycological Society near Mount Rainier. I’ll be taking my camper this year so I can camp out in the national forest before or after the event. Or both.
  • A trip back east for the fall colors in Vermont, a visit with my brother in New Jersey, and a museum visit in Washington DC. This one is tentative; I’d really be cramming it in between charter flights and events and am not sure I want the stress of making such a long trip with so much on my plate at home.

Three Weeks Left

In the meantime, I’m stuck at home, keeping very busy, waiting for my season to end, praying for some rain. It doesn’t seem likely.

Anyone who thought I was nuts for leaving Arizona for “wet, wet Washington” should get an idea of the reality here: our summers can be even drier than Arizona’s.

The T2

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I take delivery of a newer, smaller truck camper.

Regular readers might remember that I spent this past winter in Arizona and California, doing my best to avoid the dark and dreary winters of north central Washington state where I normally live. I had sold my big fifth wheel camper, the Mobile Mansion late in the summer of 2016 after purchasing my first truck camper, the Turtleback. I took the Turtleback south just before Thanksgiving and spent the winter living in a friend’s guest house, camping on mostly BLM land with friends, and traveling around Washington, Oregon, Nevada, Arizona, and California.

The Turtleback was pretty deluxe. It had basically every single feature you can cram into a truck camper, including a slide to give me lots of space. It was huge for what it was and although it was comfortable, it was also heavy. I decided, on my trip south, that I’d keep an eye out for a replacement and, if I found one, I’d trade it in. I wanted something slightly smaller — certainly without the slide, which I didn’t need — and perhaps a little newer. (The Turtleback, although in near new condition, was a 2005 model.)

Finding a Replacement for the Turtleback

Floorplan
The standard 2007 Lance 950 floorpan.

I found the Turtleback’s replacement on the last day of my trip. I stopped by the Lance dealer in Yakima to see what they had among the used truck campers. They only had one — and it was one of the ones I’d seen there on my way south.

Camper Kitchen
The kitchen is compact but the sink is bigger and the propane stove includes an oven so I can bake without running a generator.

Food prep area
The “food prep” area is beside the 6 cubic foot refrigerator with separate freezer.

It was the same physical size as the Turtleback, but 400 pounds lighter, mostly because it didn’t have a slide. It had an oven and a microwave — the Turtleback had a convection microwave so I needed power to bake — and a lot more interior storage space, including cabinets over the dining area and a much larger pantry. And although the kitchen area was just as tiny as the Turtleback’s it did have a “food prep” area beside the refrigerator.

It had two 5-gallon propane tanks instead of two 7-gallon ones; that was actually good for me because the 7-gallon tanks are wicked heavy when full and tough for me to lift into place. It even had the sunroof over the sleeping area, which I’d grown to love.

T2 Overview
The view from the dining area.

The only weird thing: it had two narrow twin beds instead of a standard queen bed. The mattresses could be zipped together to make a queen bed if I wanted one. But the setup actually added more functionality — I could travel with someone I didn’t want to sleep with without turning the dining area into a bed.

Beds
It has two twin beds with a moveable night table between them. The mattresses zip together to make a queen bed if I find the perfect travel companion. Until then, I’ll likely leave them like this.

Dining AreaBecause the dining area isn’t on a slide, there’s storage overhead. That cabinet actually folds down to be used as a bunk for kids or a huge storage shelf. (And yes, I already hung my solar Chinese lanterns.)

It didn’t have a generator or solar panel, but I have a 2KW Honda generator I bought years ago and the portable solar panel I’d bought in Quartzsite in January. And instead of a satellite dish, which was useless to me because I don’t subscribe to satellite or cable TV, it had a regular RV TV antenna.

The bathroom was about the same microscopic size. Maybe an inch bigger.

And although it was a 2007 model, it was in very good condition.

In all, it was pretty much exactly what I was looking for. Smaller, lighter, and better designed.

For some reason — probably the beds — it wasn’t selling. Since their lot was crammed with new units, they were eager to get rid of it. They offered me a deal I couldn’t refuse. The only drawback was that the trade-in deal they offered absolutely sucked. I knew I could get a lot more for the Turtleback if I sold it on my own. They kindly offered to hold it for two months with a $500 deposit. I gave them a check and went home.

Selling the Turtleback

It took a week or two to clean out the Turtleback and get it ready for sale. Since my garage was still full of boats, I parked it near my shed. I put an ad on Craig’s List. The calls started coming almost immediately. The only problem was, folks were calling from Montana, Idaho, and the Olympic Peninsula — 5 or more hours away. I honestly don’t know why they bothered if they didn’t intend to come take a look. I certainly wasn’t about to deliver.

One guy told me he’d take it sight unseen. He’d come on Monday. By Sunday, however, he’d changed his mind. His wife had talked him into looking for a pull trailer.

A few days went by I still had more than a month to sell it, but when the calls suddenly stopped coming, I started getting worried. But then another call came. I answered questions. He was definitely interested but would be coming from the west side near Seattle. A few more phone calls and he and his wife arrived.

I showed them everything. They asked lots of questions. They tried everything — including the air conditioner, which wasn’t easy to get going when the outside temperatures were around 50°F. They talked it over in private. They offered $2K less than I was asking. I told them I really needed more and countered for $1K higher. They handed me a stack of $100 bills that had already been counted. I recounted them and it was right.

A while later, they drove away with the Turtleback on the back of their pickup. They’d gotten a good deal. I’d gotten $1,000 more for the Turtleback than I needed for its replacement — and $5,000 more than the trade-in offer had been for.

Picking Up Turtleback 2

Although I still had a whole month to get the new camper, I was eager to take possession. Cherry season would start soon and I was hoping to take it on a shakedown trip before I was stuck here. (I can’t travel during cherry season because I’m on standby for work.)

I scheduled a date to pick it up and drove down to Yakima to get it. I wound up spending about three hours, mostly chatting with the two brothers that own the place while their guys put the camper on my truck, inflated the air bags on my truck’s back end to level it, and strapped it down. Then I got the unit tour, which included an overview of everything on the camper. When I voiced disappointment that the TV/DVD player was AC rather than DC, the younger brother, Mike, gave me a 375 watt inverter. (Since the TV only draws 38 watts, I’ve since replaced it with a fanless 100 watt inverter.) So yes, I can still watch movies when I’m off-the-grid.

It felt the same as the Turtleback on the way home, although the brochure says the center of gravity is three inches higher.

Of course, I needed a name for it. Since it was my second Turtleback camper, I called it Turtleback 2 or just T2.

Plans for T2

It was parked in my driveway for about a week. Some overnight guests camped out in there. It was nice to have a place to put them.

I finally put it away in the garage yesterday. I’d planned on going on a trip down to Palouse Falls, but other things popped up on my calendar and it made sense to put it away rather than leave it out in the sun.

I’ll be using it in about 10 days on a Puget Sound Mycological Society weekend-long field trip to Silver Falls. Then maybe again on Memorial Day weekend. And likely the first weekend in June for another mushroom hunting field trip before cherry season starts.

Last summer, the Turtleback was a home for three different pilots who worked for me in Quincy. Although I don’t think I’ll need it for that duty this summer, it will be available.

And there’s a slight chance I’ll get a contract job in the Yakima area in September; if I do, I’ll stay down there in the T2.

Of course, I’ll be taking it south with me again next winter. And this time, I’ll bring along my boat.

Snowbirding 2017: Astrophotography

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Practice makes perfect. I’m practicing.

I have more than the average amount of free time in my life and I like to put it to good use doing and learning things. Last September, I took an astrophotography class at the North Cascades Environmental Learning Center. You can read about the class and see some of the photos I took during our field trip in this blog post.

What I learned about shooting the night sky is that it’s very easy to do if you have the right equipment. Fortunately, I do: a DSLR with full manual mode, a very wide angle (10mm) lens, and a sturdy tripod. The hardest thing to do is to find skies dark enough to see enough stars to make the effort worthwhile.

We had dark enough skies in the North Cascades, despite ambient light from the nearby dam and occasional passing car. I don’t have dark enough skies at home, though — the glow from Wenatchee is surprisingly (and disappointingly) bright. And although I camped at more than a few places that should have been dark enough for night sky photography, most weren’t.

Or if I found a place that should have dark enough skies, the sky was overcast while I was there. Or the moon was in the sky, illuminating it so only the brightest stars showed.

Cibola
I like this shot of my RV parked on the levee along the Colorado River. I had to crop it square to get rid of the light from the town of Cibola, which is still in the shot.

I did have some success back in January when I camped out along the Colorado River near the Cibola National Wildlife Refuge in southwestern Arizona. I shared one of those photos in a blog post about the campsites I’ve been finding.

The one I didn’t share was a bit more challenging and I’m not sure if I successfully pulled it off. (Maybe you can tell me?) The bright point of light in the sky is Venus. I wanted to catch its reflection in the Colorado River, which I did. Unfortunately, although it was long past sunset, there was still a bit of a glow to the west. I think it’s from towns and homes off in the distance, but who knows?

Venus Reflected
It’s nearly impossible to include the horizon in a night photography shot without some sort of glow from terrestrial lighting.

I got a chance to practice again in Death Valley National Park, on my third night in the park. The first two nights were too cloudy and the moon was nearly full anyway. But the third night offered a window of opportunity between the end of twilight and before the waning gibbous moon came up. I was parked in Greenwater Valley with some mountains behind the camper. It was very dark outside and the sky was full of stars. I took eight shots. I think these two are the best.

Death Valley Night Sky
This was my first shot of the evening with the camera pointed pretty much straight up. It features the Milky Way with the Pleiades near the center and Orion’s Belt almost cropped off the top.

Death Valley Night Sky
In this shot, I pointed the camera up above the mountains behind the camper. You can see the big dipper just above the horizon. Once again, there’s the glow from something out there; it’s not the sun because I was pointed east.

I think photos are more interesting with something in the foreground. The one with my camper works for me. So does the one with Venus and its reflection. I guess the challenge is going someplace with something interesting to frame in the foreground and possibly “light paint” it with a lantern or something. It wouldn’t take much. The only light in my camper in the above shot was from a single tea light candle burning on the dining table inside. It looks as if I have multiple lights on!

I enjoy doing this, although I admit I’d likely enjoy it more with companions on the same sort of mission. Because my remote shutter release doesn’t work — I think it needs a new battery (again) — I have to use the camera’s self-timer as a shutter release. That adds 10 seconds to a 30 second exposure with about 30 seconds of processing time before an image finally appears. A lot of time standing around by myself in the dark. The field trip I took at the North Cascades class was a bit more of a crowd than I like, but at least it kept things interesting.

I hope to get at least one more chance to experiment with this kind of photography on my trip, but I’m not sure when. Most of my remaining destinations are not well known for their dark skies. I’ll see how I do.