Updates and admitting that we are hard-core RV-ers.

Whenever I read over some of my old posts, I berate myself for neglecting The Blog.  Even if nobody else ever reads it, it's a priceless record to us.  And so I am pulling it out of the attic, dusting it off, and will (hopefully!) get back in the groove.  Because we're not dead yet.  

Update:

My last post (of over a 1.5 years ago) started off with us selling our 40 foot ("Beast") motorhome, which I was very ready to see go.  I SAID we were going back to good old-fashioned tent camping.  Or so we thought.

That lasted until the following spring ..... when we hatched the *brilliant* plan of rejoining our motorcycling and camping lifestyles, with a toy-hauler.  (This is an RV wherein the rear wall opens and lays down as a ramp.  Toy-haulers can carry all types of man-sized "toys" on wheels.)  As you may recall, our motorhome carried our motorcycle on the back.  THIS would carry it inside.  Brilliance.  Or so we thought.

Fondly remembering the assets of our first little all-aluminum trailer, we searched for one from the same company, which Husband located in San Diego.  (At least it wasn't Arkansas this time.)  So off we went in our Jeep, towing our motorcycle in a U-Haul trailer.

There we loaded the motorcycle into our *new* (four years old) rig, hitched it to the Jeep and headed back north.  It was during that trip we decided the Jeep just didn't have the oomph to do the job, since this trailer was wider than our original trailer.  So after we returned home, our beloved Jeep was sold and replaced with a lovely red F150 pickup, which squarely entrenched us as true Central Oregonians.  (Eeeeeverybody drives a pickup here.)

It was very spartan inside, with hideous "Polaris" decor, and the exterior had been thoroughly faded by the southern Cali sun.

This is as it looked on our way home.  The furniture was folded up against the walls.  The bed raises and lowers to allow the bike to come and go.

Then followed about six weeks of pure fun (memory always erases the not-fun parts) as we fixed it up.  The exterior got new paint and decals.

The interior went from this:

to this:

We loved it ......

                or so we thought.

Last fall we headed for New Mexico, since that was our last unexplored western state.  We stopped briefly to see our delightful Utah family and then did our annual obligatory visit to Moab.

OH!  I forgot!  We bought a kayak!  (How COOL are we?!)  It's inflatable and holds both of us, plus the dog, and we love it!  So we brought it along on this trip and did about 8 miles on the scenic (brown) Colorado river just outside of Moab.
Note: for those of you who have never launched any type of small non-powered boat on a river, it involves a lot of ferrying of vehicles from the put-in point to the take-out point, which we were able to do with me and dog in the truck, and Husband on the motorcycle.  This is to avoid having to hitchhike a ride back up-river to the truck.

Then we spent two nights at the Great Sand Dune National Park in southern Colorado.  (Sllliiiightly overrated.  Definitely a do-only-once destination, although the pic below is gorgeous.)   I had to laugh at all the people we saw heading out to climb the dunes in hiking boots.  Obviously they were sand novices and strangers to the Oregon coast where we all know to go barefoot.

(Took this off the internet.) 

https://www.colorado.com/articles/national-park-profile-great-sand-dunes-national-park-preserve

It was here when the benefits of carrying one's motorcycle inside one's RV began to fade.  If one is relegated to the only available spot in the park and is backed up into that tiny campsite where one cannot lower the ramp to disembark said motorcycle, then one must sleep with a large vehicle situated between one's bed and one's bathroom.  Why didn't we unload the bike before parking the trailer?  Frankly, I don't remember.

Then we headed into the artsy, touristy town of Taos, New Mexico, and some much anticipated internet.  (I'd been dealing with a few withdrawal symptoms after being off-grid for several days.)  About an hour after we arrived there, somehow-somewhere a very important cable was accidentally severed, plunging the entire area into an internet-less abyss that lasted for the next 12-13 hours.  In fact even the land-line phones were all down.  I was aghast .... what if there was an emergency??  But the locals just seemed to shrug it off.

Taos is entertaining for about 2.5 hours, after which those of us with short attention spans become bored.  I have learned in my RV-ing experience that making reservations and finding places to camp are fairly easy Monday - Thursday.  But by Friday, you'd better be hunkered down for the weekend.  So we endured Taos till Monday.  The friendly folks with whom we attended church in their very small congregation, ALL encouraged us to move there full-time (so as to permanently teach a Sunday class or something).  It was that weekend we discovered the ramp of our trailer, upon which the motorcycle enters and exists, was becoming spongy.  It was rated to hold much heavier vehicles than we subjected it do .... AND did I mention it was only four years old??

So we called the local church leader, who kindly offered to let us use a few of his power tools and Husband fashioned a plank to lay over the ramp, so as to continue being able to load and unload the bike.  (Needless to say, our opinion of the manufacturer of our trailer (and the ramp) dropped significantly.)

Skipping ahead, since this is getting long-winded .... we visited San Juan (lovely!) ... (oops!, I meant Santa Fe),  Los Alamos where the atomic bomb was built, and saw more ancient ruins in Chaco Canyon which IS the Mother-of-the-Middle-of-Nowhere where visitors must suffer miles of very rough road for which, in my opinion, there is no excuse.  (Kinda done with ruins after that.)

The best of that trip was Lake Powell in our kayak.  A few pics:  (Antelope Canyon)

It gradually narrows down to a channel barely wide enough to U-turn the kayak, where you hit land and can hike further into the slot canyon on foot.  Husband is clamoring to return .... or perhaps move there (insert eye-roll emoji here).

Alas, however, it was not our favorite trip, and added to some necessary cold winter usage, I'm afraid our current trailer has fallen out of favor.

HENCE, onto Plan ... um ... a, b, c .... D!

We are getting a Sprinter van!  More on that coming up ..... because I WILL return.  

Are we glad we did the RV thing?

I sat and visited with a small group of women after church today (which included Debbie, a fellow RV-er) and some expressed their wishfulness that they too could try the RV lifestyle.  One was caring for an aged parent, plus her husband did not share her wanderlust.  The other had circumstances that prevented leaving hearth and home.  Debbie and her husband agreed to sell their home and do two years in their 5th wheel.  They're one year into it and she is hoping to extend longer.  She loves it.

Then later today I got a Facebook message from an old friend living on the other side of the country who asked about our feelings regarding our two-plus years in our motor home.  I started to type out my response, then decided to write it in a blog post ..... since I can get rather long-winded on subjects on which I fancy myself somewhat in the realm of *expert*.

So here goes ....

Hi Etta!  So good to hear from you.

We are still living in the "Beast" since we are in the final stages of finishing our home.  So we haven't tried to sell it yet.  If it sells easily (fingers crossed!) then ..... we'll have no regrets.  If it doesn't, then ..... we may regret it big time.  The RV market is still in gang-buster mode, so we're not worried.  Husband watches the ads frequently, and comparable rigs are selling for a decent price.  But it was 10 years old when we bought it, and these things do anything BUT go up in value.

The first year was very different than the second year.  We traveled over a lot of the western US and saw much of Washington, including Mt. Rainier, Leavenworth, and discovered our favorite -- the Palouse in eastern WA.  We did Coeur d'Alene (thank you Spell Check!), Glacier Nat'l Park, Mt. Rushmore and surrounding country.  We saw amazing sights in SE Oregon I'd never before heard of, revisiting our beloved Utah canyons, St. George, Lake Powell, and finally visited Sedona, AZ (my brother has been nagging me for years to go there).  We saw Death Valley, Yosemite, Sequoia Nat'l Forest, Joshua Tree, Palm Springs (aaaahhhhh!), some of the California coast and other parts of CA that go under the heading of, "Once is quite enough".  We also experienced Quartzite, AZ, (google it) and Yuma, and a fair amount nearby.  So all in all, it was a great year ..... and a BUSY year since we also married off our youngest and I had two surgeries.  Phew!

The second year was very different.  We bought property and decided to build The House.  Thus we have been stuck in a well-traveled rut between New Home and Old Home town ....... back and forth ..... working on said house and managing affairs on the old home front.

The first year was fun and adventurous and totally non-productive.   The second year was monotonous, exhausting, and VERY productive.  And after a winter on wheels in central Oregon, I am RV-ed out.  I cannot WAIT to move into a real house again with limitless water, a washer/dryer, a wood stove, space, etc.

Are we glad we did it?  So far ..... YES.  Would I do it again?  No.  I'm done.  I learned that I enjoy the ease and simplicity of living in 300 square feet, but I don't like driving my entire house down the street.  I don't like going to much-necessary dump stations.  I'm tired of "navy" showers.  (If you are camped in an RV park with all the hookups, none of that matters.  But those usually cost anywhere from $25-$70 a night.  We usually spent in the $30/night range.)  I prefer traveling in something smaller and we plan to buy another more compact RV for future traveling.  There's a lot to be said about bringing your own bed along wherever you go.  But no more 100% full-timing for us.

My advice if you're seriously thinking about it --

Do not buy new.  These rigs are notorious for their glitches.  Let someone else work through them before you buy it used.  Plus the initial depreciation is off the charts.

5th wheels make a lot of sense over motor homes and are probably more popular .... but they require a sizable pickup to pull them so you're spending big bucks regardless.  Motorhomes have the engines of a semi-truck, so they can be built with more quality materials, like real wood cabinets, tile floors, etc.  5th wheels simply can't load on that much weight so you see more vinyl and plastic.

Our Beast is 40 feet long with three slides, and we wouldn't have wanted to be in anything smaller since it has been our only home.  It is a Country Coach which is known for quality.  We watched RVTrader online for months and found it in Vancouver, WA, sold by a private party, with less than 20K miles.  We knew what we wanted well before we found it and I still think it has one of the best floor plans.  But when it needs to go in for repairs .... we are homeless.

Tips:  Make sure that at least one of you has a minimum amount of mechanical prowess.  I have none, but being married to one who has, and can keep a cool head ..... is a great comfort and help.
Read RV blogs, and follow some RV podcasts.  There are a lot out there and they love to give advice. Some of these people have been living the lifestyle for years.
A lot of RV-ers just do the snow-bird thing.  The more miles you travel, the higher the cost .... obviously.  (Consider 7 MPG.)  So if you go somewhere and stay there for a while before moving on, it's less expensive.  And if you can dry camp (AKA boondocking, via solar panels and generator) on public land, it gets cheaper yet.  (There are helpful apps to tell you where to go for that.)  And Walmart over-nights are definitely the way to go if you're just passing through.
Follow the weather.  Do NOT winter in central Oregon.

My old posts in this blog give a lot more details.  I'll link to a few below.  This lifestyle is very alluring when life gets over-bearing.  It is all about ESCAPE which we all long for now and then.

Let me know if you have any more questions and I'll blab some more.  All the best to you and yours.

http://type-b-blog.blogspot.com/2017/05/things-i-have-missed-in-sticks-n-bricks.html
http://type-b-blog.blogspot.com/2016/12/we-suck-at-full-timing.html
http://type-b-blog.blogspot.com/2016/08/come-on-in.html
http://type-b-blog.blogspot.com/2016/07/walmart-camping.html
http://type-b-blog.blogspot.com/2016/06/boondocking-unhooked-unplugged.html


__________

PS -- If anyone cares about photos and/or house updates.  More are coming SOON to a computer/phone/devise near you .........

Sasquatch and Murphy's Law

Last winter, before we escaped to California, wasn't the best.  We weren't anticipating  one of the worst winters in recent memory (even though I'm a strong adherent of Murphy's Law wherein if anything unfortunate or untimely can happen, it probably will) .......   I suspect Mother Nature waited until we left our securely roofed, warm home and moved into a rolling monolith .... to unleash her icy armageddon.

We hung around in the atypical deluge of continuous ice storms until after the holidays, enduring newly discovered leaks (including a small non-scenic waterfall through the ceiling AC unit directly over our bed) and ice-encrusted slides (the walls that move outward).  We had to chip the ice off the slides to bring them in so that we could AT LEAST drive to the dump station .... an errand that MUST happen regularly, regardless of one's situation or mood.  Once the slides were in, we didn't dare to put them out again in case of more freezing rain and leaks.  So we spent three weeks living in a narrow hallway.   It's doable, but definitely not preferable.

I purchased a tiny fake Christmas tree and set it on the dashboard, which fell short of offering the festive cheer it was meant to.  It was going to take more than that to salvage the drippy, gloomy season.  Needless to say, we've had better Christmases.

That day in January when we finally arrived at the RV resort in Palm Springs after a somewhat harrowing trip, I SO remember the joy of setting up, putting our slides out for the first time in weeks, and remembering why on earth I ever wanted to live in a motorhome.   There was also the comfort that winter was miles away.   'Twas possibly my favorite motorhome moment.

So here we are again, facing Winter Number Two in The Beast.  And rumors indicate another bad winter is coming.  Of course it is.  Murphy's Law and all.

So far, no new leaks (the old ones were fixed) and no ice yet ...... but it's still just early November.

The difference this year is:  1. I doubt we'll be going to Palm Springs (Husband doesn't quite agree) and 2. We're building a house which will have a solid roof, wood stove, furnace, and won't need to travel to a dump station.

However, it will not be done before winter lands squarely upon us.  Our short term plans involve keeping a keen eye on the road conditions in the mountain pass that currently separates us from said house.  Hopefully a weather window will open, allowing us to rumble through, with no guarantee we can make it back (in the Beast) before the spring thaw.  Hence, committing to holiday events or any other appointments will be tricky for the next few months.

NEXT YEAR ..... after the house is finished, the motorhome is sold,  and the three of us (Husband, me, and the wood stove)  are nestled inside, drinking eggnog and gazing out at the winter view ...... then BRING IT.  "Let it snow", as they say.  "Let the north winds bluster and blow"!   Let all you-know-what break loose and all the mountain passes clog up with ice drifts, and let Sasquatch (and/or the Abominable Snowman) stomp around to his heart's content.

'Cause I won't care.  We'll be ready for it.

Which means, of course, it'll be the balmiest winter on record.  Just wait.  There'll be no snow.  Nor ice.  Nor Sasquatch.  The passes will stay all dry and boring .... with Palm Springs whispering, "Should've kept the Beast".

Because .... you know ..... Murphy's Law.

Things I have missed in a "Sticks 'n Bricks"

That's RV-speak for a house.  I have said many times that the comfort of living in a motorhome has been top-notch ..... but there are a few things I miss:

1.  Space for my kids to gather.

2.  Long showers .... although when we're hooked up in a campground, we can shower as long as we want.  It's just that most of the time, we're not in a campground and the tank levels become all-important.

3.  Security in bad weather.  We've had our share of leaks and frozen slides this past winter.  [Review: Slides are those portions of a motorhome that (when parked) expand out for more space so we don't have to climb over the bed to reach the closet.]  During the ice storms that besieged us in recent months, the slides literally froze open with a thick layer of ice on top.  This is not good when it's time to drive to the all-necessary dump station.  (See #2, no pun intended)

4.  Hard ice cream.  Our freezer is sufficient, but not ideal.  And all soft ice cream should (in my opinion) come directly, and exclusively, from Dairy Queen.

5.  Decorating.  Presently I cannot buy a piece of art, or pottery, or any of a million knickknacks that women, in general, tend to fill their homes with.  (This actually has been a good thing.)

6.  Unlimited water drainage.  I miss not having to dump the used dish water into the toilet to keep the other tank from getting too full.  Again, it's all about the tanks.  Getting water is easy.  Getting rid of it, not so much.

7.  Being able to use my blow dryer, vacuum cleaner, toaster, electric fry pan, etc., WITHOUT first turning off the space heaters.  (We have a perfectly good furnace but it uses propane which must be refilled via driving to some place that sells it.  So we use electric space heaters quite a bit.)  I have notes attached to most of these appliances to remind me.  The notes do not work.  We are always reflipping the breaker and restarting Husband's computer, preceded by a loud "Darn-it!" from Yours Truly.

8.  Air conditioning.  Yeah, we have that too.  But it's a little noisy and we seldom turn it on. The point was to not BE where it's hot, which has proven to be more complicated than it sounds.

9.  My washer and dryer.  I have gained intimate familiarity with too many laundromats.  PLUS the "fun" of hauling my basket of dirty clothes across a very public parking lot in a town where I know people.  (The miserably few non-handicap parking spaces close to the laundromat door are almost always full.)

10.  A garage.  I had a rude reminder last winter about having to scrape frost off car windows. T'was a lesson in empathy for chronic garage-less-ness.

What I DON'T miss:

1.  Yardwork.

2.  Large spaces to clean, including multiple bathrooms.

3.  Yardwork.

4.   Cable/satellite TV.  This one surprised me.  I discovered that as long as I have Wifi, I'm happy.

5.  A dishwasher.  Not kidding.

6.  Stairs and/or having to walk more than a dozen steps to anything indoors.

7.  A large closet.  Still not kidding.

8.  All the stuff.

9.  Yardwork.

Didn't leave my heart in San Fran

Calistoga, CA, was another little stroke of luck since, again, we had no idea what kind of town it would be before we got there.  Like in Mariposa (see previous post), we parked in the fairgrounds which often host RV parks.  It was about 3/4 of a mile from yet another charming main street. The abundance of antique stores there set it above Mariposa, in my very biased opinion.  I spent an hour or so by myself exploring and wishing I had space in our motorhome to put that charming old steamer trunk I found in one of the shops, that reminded me of the trunk in our basement where our Christmas decorations were kept when I was a child.

Yeah I know.   This looks like the beginning of my last post.

Husband was off in search of a do-it-yourself, non-automatic-type carwash because the motorcycle always gets filthy as it rides atop its lift on the back of the motorhome, especially in the rain.  He cannot stand a dirty vehicle so we frequent many carwashes in our travels.  (I cannot emphasize *many* enough.  I now habitually watch for them in every town we go through.)  But this time it was a 20 mile quest to the next town to find one ....   Obsessive?  You decide.

Our plan was not to spend much time in Calistoga but to leave the motorhome there while we did a three-day motorcycle trip (with three days of mashed helmet-hair) over to and down the California coast.

So the next morning we packed a few clothes and left on the bike, heading west.

First stop -- Bodega Bay where we HAD to search out this infamous old school:

  The angle of the above shot didn't do it, so I got this next shot as we rode away.  It SHOULD look familiar to you all.

  And just for fun (and a hint):

A few more pics from my phone as we rode south.  (No packing the camera equipment when traveling on the bike.)

We shared a Reuben sandwich while sitting on the water's edge, looking out at San Francisco's skyline across the bay from the inviting community of Sausalito, which is on the north end of the Golden Gate Bridge.

Because of all the rain this winter, there was a lot of road damage so via a detour up steep and narrow side streets, we then made our way to the famous bridge that is definitely not golden.

Google informed me that the bridge was named after the channel (called the Golden Gate) which separates the bay from the ocean.  The color red, or orange as they call it ... (it's red) ... is so that it stands out nicely against the background scenery.   Which it does.   I found this picture on the web, to illustrate the point.

http://handluggageonly.co.uk/2016/08/25/16-free-things-to-do-in-san-francisco/

I remember from the last time we drove across it there was a toll, but this time the booth was closed and empty and cars just sailed past both ways.  Score! .... or so we thought.  Several days after we returned home in Oregon, a bill for $7.50 along with a fuzzy photo of us from the rear, arrived in the mail.  This is how they collect the toll from us non-locals who don't have an online bridge-crossing account.  Oh well.

I am not particularly a fan of San Francisco, which presents itself on the other end of the bridge.  It's expensive and crowded (and liberal) and the traffic was a little unnerving.  And we've seen it already.  So we got through it and its endless over-priced row houses as fast as we could and continued south.  We spent the night in a hotel in Half Moon Bay where we had one of the best Italian meals ever.  (This coastal town was fine although I wouldn't call it charming .... but a name like that belongs in a romance novel or in a song title.)

The next morning we went as far south as we could on Hwy 1 until it ended at a washed out bridge.  Husband wanted to make it to Big Sur where the motorcycling is supposed to be spectacular.  But not this year.  That road will be closed for a while.

Then back up to Carmel-by-the-Sea to stroll past the many high-end, trendy shops where most folks (like me) just go to gawk at the price tags.   We gave up looking for Pebble Beach, the famous too-expensive-for-normal-people golf course that Husband wanted to see, because we got a bit lost in an overly hilly neighborhood.   (Off the main thoroughfares, this state abounds in steep and narrow side streets which, when on a bike with a clutch, is not fun for the nervous passenger on the back.)

But how cute is this??

In Carmel-by-the-Sea.  Every town needs a tea room, right?

(Side Note:  Clint Eastwood was once the mayor there.  Ya gotta wonder about crowd control at the town council meetings.)

We spent the second night in Monterey then headed back north along the coast (purposely avoiding San Francisco this time), and through more winding detours (more road closures) that took us up over forested mountains, back to Bodega Bay, and finally to Calistoga and our little home.

The next morning it was time to go north back to Oregon.

Just like six (or seven?) weeks prior on our trip down, we again had to study the road conditions through the Siskiyous.  Winter was not over yet.  We planned to spend some time in central Oregon so we drove all day up 97 through Klamath Falls and continuing north into the snowy darkness.  As always, Husband was at the wheel, and as always I was navigating.  This time I was using both my phone and iPad, monitoring our location, the road cams, weather reports, elevation changes, etc.  Multi-ton motorhomes and slick, icy roads are not a good mix.  Fortunately, inspite of the thickly falling flakes, nothing was sticking to the road and we finally landed in the Walmart parking lot in Redmond, Oregon, where this adventure ends ......

and a new one begins.

Yosemite Serendipity

It's always a treat when we unexpectedly stumble upon charming towns.   We seldom know, when we plan our route, if the next town with the best campsite will consist of a gas station, a bar, perhaps a pizza joint, and a grimy little store ... or a town like Mariposa, CA, with an historic main street lined with cute (although useless) shops and restaurants.

It is close to one of the entrances of  Yosemite National Park and our home, for the next few days, was in a field at the town's fairgrounds.

We spent just one day in Yosemite, since it was an 80 mile round trip from our campsite.  The famous El Capitan greeted us early on.

Around noon, at a random spot along the road in the park, we noticed a group of people gathered with lawn chairs, blankets, and tripod-mounted cameras -- all pointing to something high up on the canyon wall.  Curiosity forced us to stop.  We found out that during the last two weeks of February, there is a natural occurrence that involves a small and unnoticeable waterfall, the setting sun, and clouds opening up at just the right moment.  At a certain angle and for just a few minutes, the sun reflects off the waterfall and lights it up like falling fire.  And people come from all over with their cameras to capture it.  We had no idea.  It was one of those rare being-at-the-right-place-at-the-right-time strokes of luck and Husband's camera equipment was right there in our car.

In the meantime, we spent the afternoon seeing the sights of this park that had occupied our Bucket List for years.

And some of Husband's pictures:

And another cool lodge .....

Sunset was to be about 5:30 and we got back to the roadside gathering of expectant photographers well over an hour early.   By then the crowd had grown considerably.  And it continued to grow with a very long line of cars parked along the road.  (There are two one-way roads in the park, one going in and one going out.  Apparently there was an equally large crowd on the other road.)

There is no way to know if this event will happen on any particular late-February day.  People just come and hope for the best.  But we got lucky and as the moment approached, the sun peaked out from under a layer of clouds, and the seven-minute show began.  The light hit the bottom of the falls and worked its way upward, hailed with cheers from the large crowd far below.  Husband's pictures:
 

(Serendipity happens.)

Next:  Another delightful town and motorcycling on the coast.

Death Valley, gummy bears, and REALLY big trees

Dang!  I'm so far behind.  Death Valley was close to a month ago.  Catching up.

Note:  It's a good thing we have Sundays and the regular going-to-church thing because it kind of zeros out my weeks, like an odometer in a car, so that I can count back and figure out what day it is at the moment.  Time really blurs when you're not in a routine-ruled lifestyle.

Husband, hoping for dark skies and photos, was more interested in Death Valley than I was.   I usually don't really care where we go and just follow along.   (My motto:  "Wherever. Whatever. Just don't scare me.")  We camped unhooked and unplugged for four nights there and it was surprisingly awesome.  The second day we were there, I think the park received at least half its annual rainfall, so flash floods abounded.

Tip:  If you plan to visit this unique park, bring your own groceries.  A quart of milk in their little store runs about $4.  The cheapest meal at the cafe was a $15 hamburger which tasted quite good, as hamburgers go.

We had planned to stay two days, but stretched it to four, so we utilized an 80-mile round-trip drive to tiny Beatty, NV, just outside the park, to do more sightseeing, find a grocery store, and to stop and see a ghost town (called Rhyolite) along the way.  I can't explain the reason for its odd name (which sounds like an energy drink) but we learned the town sprang to life due to a gold and silver mine in the early 1900s and died not long thereafter, leaving ghostly shells of buildings once filled with life and hope.

Beatty, being a typical Nevada town, sported a big, flashy casino, even though the town's only grocery store consisted of a few aisles in the Family Dollar store.  But it had an enormous nut and candy store unlike anything I have ever seen.   (Enter at your own risk.)  I chose the almond coconut brittle and Husband went with gummy bears and fudge.

Back in Death Valley.

Lowest elevation on the continent.  Not the prettiest spot, just worth noting.  There's a LOT of salt mixed into that sandy grit behind me.

We also did an exhausting five mile hike into Golden Canyon (in Death Valley) that awarded us with indescribable views.  We hiked out via Gower Gulch, which had been inaccessible just two days prior due to raging floods.  Who knew such a barren wasteland could be so stunningly beautiful?

I did not enhance the colors in this picture.  This is what it was and explains its name.

From a viewpoint called Dante's Point.  See the distant snowy mountains in the clouds?

Since Death Valley's elevation is so low, exiting it requires driving up through mountain passes which is slow-going in a multi-ton vehicle.   (Our apologies to the parade of cars behind us.  Husband does his best to pull over whenever possible.)  We went through some extremely remote countryside in central California before civilization finally began to reappear.

We did another Walmart night in Bakersfield, CA, before arriving at a campground near Sequoia National Park, in trees and next to a raging little river.  (Note: Before you pay extra for that riverfront site, think about how loud water can be.)

Those white things on the river bank were sandbags.  This formerly parched state was quite waterlogged.  Dare we hope the drought is over?

As we entered the park, we immediately begin to wind up into the mountains and ended up in deep snow.  The snowplow machines had cut through and piled the snow so high that it was like tall white walls lining the road.  No problem .... we were in our trusty Jeep, with the Beast waiting safely in the valley below.

Sequoia trees are shorter than Redwoods, but their total mass is greater.   We paid our respects to the biggest tree on earth -- the very grand old, "General Sherman".

I love visiting park lodges, especially old ones with their rock fireplaces, leather sofas, and all kinds of lodge-awesomeness.  This one wasn't old, but it was impressive nonetheless.  We each had a cup of French onion soup while we sat next to the tall windows in the nearly-empty dining room (t'was definitely the off-season) and watched the snowy show outside.

Next -- Yosemite and a BIG score.