After two windy but sunny days and a quick glance at the weather forecast, we knew our rain free days were coming to a close. We sat at the junction of Usal and Bryceland road as sprinkle turned to downpour. The road to Needle Rock to our left with several warning signs was sending us a message. You may get down, but no guarantees on getting back up.
We hung a right and headed inland. As beautiful as Needle Rock could be, it wasn’t the place to head to with the coming storm. Heading over the King Range, wet snow began to fall and as we dropped toward the Eel River drainage the downpour started in earnest. After a quick stop at a hardware store we just happened to need to stop at last trip we had a new drip pan for the grill and we headed toward the Avenue of the Giants. By the time we reached the Avenue it was mid afternoon, but due to the 300+ foot trees, and the pouring rain it felt like nighttime. We made a stop at the visitor center and among other attractions and information we found the travel log.
Built in 1917 from a fallen chunk of a redwood log and mounted on a 1917 Nash Quad truck it was a fully equipped truck camper! Charles Kellogg traveled around the country with it to illustrate to people who couldn’t imagine the size of a redwood the sheer enormity of the trees.
Back on the road it was time to find a spot for the night. With rain coming down in sheets it was going to be an indoor night. Stopping at the first campground, we found it closed but a sign pointed us to the next campground just down the road. Arriving at that one we found it was closed to. I got out to read the fine print and it was closed due to inclement weather. I’d never heard of a campground closing for weather before, I guess there’s a first time for everything. I suppose you have to consider closing when you have high winds and 300 foot tall trees in your campground. Little did we know at the time that the bomb cyclone was ripping the coastal headlands to shreds. We had one choice left in the area, and that was a private campground. Luckily it was pretty deserted but open. It was hot showers and a heated camper for the night as the rain continued to pelt the roof. This is roughing it.
We were up the next morning with a first stop in Scotia. Scotia is an interesting study in company towns, this one being owned by the Pacific Lumber Company for many years, a lot of it is up for sale today. I was glad to see the mill still operating and the huge log yard filled nearly to the brim.
After that we were headed to lunch at Mad River Brewing, but upon arrival an hour after opening the building was dark and nobody was to be found. Weird. Well, we moved on, and it being Wednesday we thought we’d better pick up some seafood for Thanksgiving. When we stopped at Katy’s Smokehouse we got the scoop on the storm. Power was out on much of the north coast with lots of trees down due to 70-80 mile per hour winds. There was no estimate when it would come on putting many people’s Thanksgiving dinner in questionable status. We moved on to Patrick’s Point State Park where we thought we’d spend the next couple days, only to find lots of storm damage and only a few sorry looking campsites open. To make a long story short we then proceeded to go from camp to camp, all of them looking soggy dreary places to spend our Thanksgiving and we just kept moving north. Before we knew it we were out of options in California and headed to Harris Beach near Brookings Oregon. “It’s only 40 minutes” I said. Then we hit a six mile bumper to bumper backup behind a one lane construction fiasco. Two and a half hours later we pulled into Harris Beach. Not quite what we had planned but here we were. The next day (Thanksgiving) brought the sun and plenty of time on the beach.
We enjoyed the sunset then headed back for a seafood trifecta (rock fish, prawns and scallops) for Thanksgiving.
Our week on the road was quickly coming to a close. We needed to make Pacific City for a Saturday event so we continued on north to Cape Blanco.
We found the campground surprisingly empty and headed for a walk on the beach. We turned around at the Elk River after watching the seals and fisherman taking turns trying to land a salmon (the seals were winning).
It was our last night in the camper for 2019. We enjoyed another perfect sunset followed by a nice campfire.
All was quiet until the camp chair started to shudder, and there we were in the middle of an earthquake! Measuring 4.5 magnitude, it was pretty short, but being centered only a few miles away we sure felt it. It got chilly fast so we retreated inside after some delicious gingerbread peeps roasted over the fire. It was a quiet night until once again I awoke to something clanging in camp. A roly poly racoon had found our new drip pan and was trying to get his grubby little paws on it. He rumbled out into the forest as I came out of the camper. His work was done, the pan was licked clean. I guess we need to lock the grill up from now on.
The next morning we were headed north but our time in the camper was done. Another trip and another year on the books. This year gave us 69 wonderful nights in the camper. What will 2020 bring?
