I am just now realizing that Serena (my Civic) is smaller than Jordan (my former 1993 Jetta). Jordan took me on last road trip in Summer 2006, and honestly gave me a little more room when sleeping in his front seat. It’s more of a squeeze sleeping in Serena at night. And just like last time, the front driver’s seat is really the most convenient place to sleep because of all the stuff in the front passenger’s and entire back seats that would need to be moved. Sleeping in my car doesn’t have the allure it did two years ago (as much as it ever did have an allure), but I still prefer it to shelling out money on a motel room.
Today I had to make tracks. I left Wal-Mart by 9 a.m., and by 1 p.m. had driven farther than I had in either of the previous two days.
I have been having trouble getting consistent radio signal and either have to keep scanning or switch over to the Bible on CD. With the Bible, I just got through Jude today, and since the Revelation CD doesn’t appear to be there, I’m going to start back at Genesis. But today, with the music, the signal has been more consistent and clear, and I’m finding a lot of Christian stations. KLove is a familiar one to me since we have it in Fresno, but I also found the Candle. Their tag line is “Points you North when you’re heading South." Love it!
There is a lot of construction on the part of the 101 that I’m traveling today. At one point the two lane highway was reduced to one lane for about a mile-long stretch, and four highway workers were coordinating having the northbound traffic stop to let a certain amount of the southbound traffic get through and then vice versa. Thankfully I didn’t have to wait long. Just North of the one-lane area were signs galore for “Confusion Hill.” This was too intriguing not to pull over.
I took a lot of pictures, but I’m still not completely sure what Confusion Hill is supposed to be. They had a gravity room and something else each with paid admission, but I just didn’t feel up for anything structured at that time. It really wasn’t the money this time. I just wanted to stay only as long as I wanted to and be able to leave at any time. The FAQ posted was rather sarcastic and witty, and I wasn’t in the mood to put up with that verbally from a guide. In the middle of the parking lot was the world’s largest redwood carving, a very tall totem pole.
I started to take pictures of it and noticed a woman standing up against it and a man several feet away snapping photos. I offered to take their picture, and they were delighted at my offer, and only too happy to take my picture with my camera. I introduced myself and found out that Ty & Ellen were from Napa and were driving North in their RV “as far North as [they] felt like going.” Ellen was really sweet and open; Ty was a nice guy, just less outgoing than Ellen. I could see some light tension between them, though: Ellen mentioned that Ty was supposed to quit smoking on this trip as he puffed away on his cigarette. I was impressed to see that he did stamp it out when she referred to it, so I think they’re working through things.
There were a lot of bridges that I crossed today. I love bridges: the variety of styles, length, what they extend across (bodies of water, a perpendicular street, etc.), color. I tried to get pictures of most of the ones I saw or crossed.
In general, the scenery was spectacular today. I took so many pictures with my camera propped up between my hands on my steering wheel that I filled my memory card twice. It holds about 180 pictures, and I had to get out my laptop and download them to it in order to make room for more.
One of the places I stopped to download pictures was a gas station. There was a Mexican restaurant there inside the gas station, and they were advertising dollar tacos, so I ordered a chicken one. However, I forgot to give my usual request to not make it spicy. These were Mexican tacos (small with corn tortillas), and it had to be the most spicy thing I have ever consumed. Thankfully I had the good sense not to start eating it until I got back to my car because I had to chug Gatorade in between bites. But the taco was delicious nonetheless, so I powered through and finished it. I would have given up, if not for knowing how small it was and how soon the pain would end.
The 101 took me through Redwoods National Park, which was amazing itself. Even with my horticulture class in high school, though, I am still not certain how to distinguish a redwood from other tall ominous trees. So while I THINK that the trees I saw were redwoods (though none big enough to drive a car through like I remember from second grade social studies), I really can’t be sure.
Great News! It’s raining up here! I don’t know why I was surprised that it’s raining in the Northwest, but I had missed the rain so much. I was quickly reminded by other travelers that your headlights need to be on when it’s raining (or more precisely, when your wipers are on). Serena loves the rain, too, so she was pretty excited, too.
I was obviously going to need to rejoin the 5 eventually, but I figured if I did so outside of California, it would be enough removed from work and trips to Orange County. So near the state border, I diverted from the 101 onto the 199 to drive up through Smith River Recreation Area. It was now about four p.m., and I had been pushing the drive all day. I realized there was no way I could traverse Oregon to get to Vancouver in a reasonable time this evening. I reached for my cell phone to call Earle & Harriet, but I had no cell phone signal.
So I resolved to periodically check my phone for signal, and just enjoyed the drive. The Recreation Area was filled with beautiful backdrops to the winding roads. There weren’t too many other cars, so I was able to coast for awhile, zipping on through undisturbed. However, near the end of the Rec Area, the road was again reduced to a single lane (this was now the third or fourth time today I was encountering this). Instead of highway workers directing traffic, signal lights had been installed. It took awhile for the stop, but then I got through pretty quickly.
As I left the Recreation Area, I crossed into Oregon. I had made it this far. I stopped a couple of miles into the state to fill up on gas since I guessed my tank was nearly empty. I started to get out of the car to fill up and noticed a man walking toward me. That’s when I remembered: it’s illegal to pump your own gas in Oregon. So I told him I wanted unleaded. He asked if it was cash or credit. I asked if there was a price difference, and finding out that there was, responded cash. He started to fill it up, and I pulled out my debit card. That’s when he told me that he meant actual cash. In California, you can usually use your debit card to get the cash price, but not here. This is an independent station, so it might not be a statewide thing. Since I only had $20 with me, I only had him put that much in. So I only got 4.750 gallons. I’d have to find a place to get cash and buy more within the next 150 miles.
I pulled away from the pump to allow another car through, and called Earle. He was very understanding about my situation, and invited me for lunch tomorrow. I was grateful that I would still get to see and spend time with them.
Oregon is a very different state. There were signs reminding drivers of rules of the road, such as not being allowed to pass a car on a two-lane highway it you don’t have the broken side of the yellow line on your side of the road. Very interesting. I saw a few more signs like this, but don’t remember which laws they reiterated. Maybe it’s an unrepresentative sample, but Oregon seems heavily signaged. I think I just made a new word by trying to use signage as a verb. Word doesn’t like it, but it suits my needs and flows in the context, so it stays.
Driving along, I witnessed a miracle: gas for $3.99/gal! I pulled over immediately to fill up the rest of my tank. I was now out of cash, and this station almost treated cash synonymously with debit: there was a $0.45 transaction fee, but I had little choice because I was out of actual cash. I pulled out $40 since I was already paying the $0.45. I have strong opposition to fees to use my own money, but amortizing the fee on a per-gallon basis (I got almost six gallons), it only raised the cost of the gas to $4.07/gal, which is still better than anywhere else I’ve seen on this trip. I have been able to stay under $4.50 each time, and that’s my benchmark goal for the trip.
I pulled off in Wilderville and gave Karen a call to firm up my arrival time. She would later text me to let me know that it was a 2.5 hour drive from Vancouver, WA (where Earle & Harriet live) to Tacoma, where she and Leroy live. I would be heading directly there from lunch with Earle & Harriet. As I was about to get back on the highway, I noticed that I was on Ingalls Road. I thought that was cool (and of course intentional), so I got pictures of both the street sign and the city sign. I need to reread those books.
I pulled over at a rest stop to stretch and called Don & Barbara. They don’t have e-mail, so I hadn’t been able to let them know about my road trip. I had deliberately waited until I got to Oregon, because Barbara’s first question whenever I called is “Where are you?” and I wanted to be able to give her a different answer. She was shocked when I responded “Oregon.” We talked for awhile, and she may have a friend that I could stay with on my way back down.
As I was about to get back in my car, a teenage guy got out of the pickup parked next to me. He said he and the two boys traveling with him were trying to get to Eugene and needed gas, asking if I could spare a couple bucks. I usually decline, knowing it’s more likely a scam for the money than not. And usually it’s a story that they’re stranded with nothing, leaving me an opening to offer food instead of giving money. But I figured I could give a couple dollars. It wouldn’t buy much gas, but I figured he’d be hitting up everyone else at the truck stop. He seemed genuinely embarrassed to be asking for the money and admitted as such. I told him that everyone needs some help sometimes. Hopefully I didn’t add to his belief that everyone’s a sucker for a sob story.
My next concern was where to stop for the night. I really needed a shower and was hoping that I was now back on the 5 that I would finally see a truck stop. At long last, I saw a Love’s Country Store. I have always been disappointed by them since visiting my second one. My first one in Arizona had atmosphere, country music playing, friendly clerks, clean premises, etc. At the second one I stopped at, I learned what truck stops are normally like. Once I learned that the latter was the standard, I adjusted. So I went inside and purchased the use of a shower.
Emerging clean shortly thereafter, I returned to the road. I figured I’d get to Eugene and find a place to sleep. My Wal-Mart atlas said that there were two there, but they didn’t appear to be near the freeway, and I didn’t feel like hunting them down. There were three in Salem, with one just off the 5 at exit 253. It would be a stretch, but I resolved to make it. At 11 p.m., I was 20 miles away, gave up and stopped off a rest stop. There was no sign about not sleeping the night here. This would do.
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