Day 23: 6/24/24 From: Chatham, Ontario, Canada To: Reading, PA Distance: 514 miles
This post isn’t worth much. Our final day is a long drive, and we’re on the road by 7:15 a.m. Border crossing at Buffalo, NY this time and the border guard is unimpressed with us, which is, of course, always a good thing. We smuggled in a couple of giant Kinder eggs. Shhhh.
Late lunch at a Wendy’s somewhere in north-central Pennsylvania. Younger Child laments we still have 4 hours to drive…until I inform them we’re only 2 1/2 hours from home. The smile that appears on their face stretches from war to ear and they excitedly inform their friends via text that they’re almost home.
I wish I could be so excited, but I have other plans tonight. We pull in right at the time I’m due for a board meeting, and to avoid rushing back out again, I call in. Vacation is officially over.
Day 22: 6/23/24 From: Chatham, Ontario, Canada To: Wallaceburg, Ontario, Canada Distance: 21 miles
We sleep in. Husband and I wake one kid at 9 for breakfast. The other refuses to wake and says they’ll eat later.
So it’s a breakfast at the hotel for 3 of us, but we’re shocked to find the dining room packed. Apparently there was a wedding here yesterday and pretty much everyone has shown up for breakfast. After breakfast, we head back to the room to read, relax, and nap the morning away. Younger Child goes back to bed and I follow suit an hour later. It’s kind of nice not to be running out the door for the car.
At 2:30 we head to Friend’s parents’ house to spend the afternoon and evening with all of them. We’ve never met them before, but they are every bit as lovely as Friend and her husband and kids. Of course. Then Writing Friend (who happens to be the cousin to Friend) and his wife and tween show up to say hello as well, and it’s a full on party. Air hockey, Oregon Trail, Shut the Box (which we now *have* to get, lots of talk and laughter (much of it about fishing…go figure). The day is very much like spending a day with my own family. And they’ve all brought Canadian treats we don’t normally have in America for us to try.
Aero, Caramilk, ketchup-flavored potato chips, Smarties (NOT the American kind), Tim-bits, creme-filled maple cookies, butter tarts, and more. We like these Canadians. It’s hard to leave, but at 10 p.m., we finally call it a night, realizing that we still have a long drive home tomorrow. But do we go back to the hotel? No. Of course not. We head to Friend’s house where they have a bait & tackle shop so Husband can stock up. They refuse payment, but we’ll find a way to get them money somehow… Their generosity can only go so far, and this is their business! We want to support small business!
At 11:30, we finally say goodnight and head back to the hotel, our vacation just about over. We’re ready to be home, to snuggle some cats, and to sleep in our own beds.
When the guy in the middle has to kneel to be the same height as the other two in the photo…We always have a terrific time with this family. Even 5 years after seeing them last.
Day 21: 6/22/24 From: Fort Atkinson, WI To: Chatham, Ontario, Canada Distance: 472 miles
Another long drive today, but one that crosses an international border. Our passports have been waiting patiently for this day in the trip. (Too bad they don’t get a stamp…)
We wake shortly after 7 and are on the road by 8:30. The skies are mostly overcast today, but I think I see the sun way up there. I can’t be sure as it’s been several days since I’ve seen anything but gray clouds and pouring rain.
I drive the first 3 hours, plus an extra half hour in horrendous traffic south of Chicago that’s really due to construction in Indiana, but is backed up far into Illinois. Husband drives the next 5 hours, stopping only for lunch and to see the Joseph F Weber House in Detroit at Younger Child’s request because it was featured on the album cover of one of their favorite artists. It adds only 10 minutes to the drive, so we approve adding the stop to the itinerary.
The GPS brings us into a not-so-great part of Detroit and it reminds me of all the bad things said about this city. I can see where it gets its reputation. (The buildings are run down, boarded up, and empty, and the homeless and drug addicts are present.) The neighborhood changes for the better as we approach our stop, but we still don’t stay long. Younger Child is thrilled to see the house, then we’re back on the highway again and making our way to Ontario. I had no idea the entrance to Canada here was a tunnel! I assumed we’d be crossing a bridge. The neat thing about the Detroit-Windsor Tunnel, though, is where you cross the border and there’s a giant flag on the way on either side of the border line. A maple leaf on one side and Stars and Stripes on the other.
The border crossing is much quicker than we’ve ever experienced at either of the other two places we’ve crossed, the border guard asking us what’s in our top carrier and probably wondering at us when we said sleeping bags and a very wet tent…
Forty-five minutes later, we’re at the hotel in Chatham, Ontario. It’s earlier than we expected so I text my local friend to see if she’d like to join us for dinner. Of all the local places, we choose Boston Pizza because of its array of gluten-free options. Friend is about a half hour away, so we make plans to meet at 8:15 and we pull in within 15 seconds of each other.
We chat and laugh with Friend while we eat and it’s so good to see her again 5 years after we last saw her. We look forward to spending tomorrow with her and her family again. The last time we saw them was a shared family vacation in Huntsville, Ontario in 2019. Our families got along well then and we look forward to spending more time with her whole family tomorrow.
We head back to the hotel at 10:30 and sleep is all I can think about. But Husband decides to do laundry first. I, on the other hand, pass out before he returns with folded clothes. I look forward to NOT setting an alarm in the morning.
Day 20: 6/21/24 From: Garretson, SD (Palisades State Park) To: Fort Atkinson, WI Distance: 469 miles
I wake after 4 hours of sleep and see a message that came through on my phone an hour or so after we left the campground. (I should still be sleeping right now, I’m exhausted, but my body says no, apparently. Adrenaline memory?)
We made the right decision.
Now, we just need to go back this morning and find out if we still have a tent and clothes to collect or if it’s all been washed away… We eat breakfast at the hotel, take showers we weren’t expecting to have this morning, and get dressed in the clothes we came in. Then, it’s back to the campground to see if we still have a tent, sleeping bags, and clothing. I know I said we were done camping after this night and that I looked forward to a few days in a hotel, but I didn’t mean I wanted to give up all of our tenting supplies for the future.
By the light of day, we can see the creeks and rivers in the area are absolutely flooded. The rain is still coming down, though with less force.The roadways back into the campground are passable, including the bridge that was flooded last night. (Though it’s covered in debris.) We get back to our campsite and are shocked to find most of the runoff creek water has subsided off the site, though it’s still flowing swiftly and carrying a lot of water into Split Rock Creek. Most importantly, though? Our tent is still standing. And everything in it is (mostly) dry. The tent is actually fairly soaked through from all the rain, but we don’t think the floodwater ever came all the way to the tent. We pack up as quickly as possible since the current forecast calls for more heavy rain and even the possibility of isolated tornadoes. No thank you. We’re ready to leave.
The GPS takes us a strange route back to I-90 (dirt roads that are called “streets” and “avenues” despite being dirt), which we can only assume is due to closed, flooded roadways. And we must be right. Because when we finally do make it back to I-90, we see more devastation. Every creek (and there are many) is flooded so far over its banks, it looks like a full-blown river. Have you ever seen a tractor trailer on its side in the middle of a river? As of today, we have. We pass several more accidents due to flooded roads. As a result, the westbound side of I-90 is shut down, but the eastbound side remains open. We are grateful for that at least.
But the rain isn’t finished with us yet. Husband drives through alternating downpours and light rain for the next two hours. We finally drive out of it, only to drive back into it again an hour later when I’m driving. We are absolutely astounded that a storm this big can be dumping this much water for this long. And it continues for most of our way to Wisconsin. The skies are dark and dangerous and I miss the Pennsylvania mountains that break up this kind of weather so it never lasts so long. We marvel again and again that we’re still driving through this horrible weather.
We finally reach our hotel not far outside of Madison, WI and we are relieved to be off the road. (And the hotel has the sweetest antique tap bell I want to grab for an uncle who collects them… I refrain. Barely.) The last 24 hours have been quite the ordeal. We still have a few more days and one more destination before we head back to Pennsylvania, but I think it’s safe to say that as much as the last three weeks have been an incredible adventure, we’re looking forward to returning home.
We watch a little television, I catch up on the blog, and Husband and kids take off for the jacuzzi for a half hour before bed while I read. I don’t know where they all find the energy to hop in a hot tub at 10 pm, but this trip is about seeing and doing, so have at it, fam.
Day 19: 6/20/24 From: Badlands National Park, SD (Cedar Pass Campground) To: Garretson, SD (Palisades State Park) Distance: 290 miles
We “sleep in” today. Though we wake often in the tent, we manage to ignore the daylight until 8:30. It’s been raining on and off all night, too, but the tent has held up well. Fog covers the rugged peaks in the Badlands and we’re supposed to hit significant storms on the way east today. It’s going to be a tedious 4-5 hours on the road, especially with the incessant wind.
We pack up camp and head out to the gift shop, which has a diner where we expected to eat breakfast, but neither kid wants anything on the menu, so we leave with the intention of stopping somewhere else along the way.
We make a quick detour to a prairie dog “ranch” we saw when we came into the park, where we proceed to watch the critters poking their heads out and running around. You can buy peanuts in the store to feed them, which is probably why they are so tame and easily photographed.
There’s just one problem with relying on our own plans for breakfast. There’s nothing “along the way.” We end up at two different gas stations, both insanely busy. Is Summer Solstice a holiday in South Dakota? It certainly seems like everyone is out today. By the time we get any sort of food, it’s noon. Breakfast was basically yogurt and pastries. No one is complaining. (Lies. Husband is complaining. He wants eggs and bacon and something significant in his stomach.)
The next two hours on the road are some of the scariest. Lightning, thunder, wind, and heavy rain abound. We pass one car stuck in the middle of the grass that divides the highway. They must have spun out with all the water on the road. I’m getting worried that our campsite might be flooded out. When I check the weather forecast, there’s areal flood watches over the entire county.
I was looking forward to seeing this today, but I’m pretty sure that’s not happening. The weather on this trip continues to be wild.
When we reach the campground, there’s a small break in the rain. It lightens just long enough for us to set up the tent if we move at light speed. We get everything inside just in time for the next round of pouring rain. Split Rock Creek is roaring pretty good and I’m a little disappointed. I picked this site specifically because I know how much Husband loves the water (even when he can’t fish).
We spend an hour and a half just catching up on social media, reading, drawing, and napping and when the rain lightens again, we venture out for dinner. A sports bar in Brandon, SD called Tailgators calls our name and has plenty of gluten-free options. The meal is incredible, as is the dessert. During dinner, we play each other in archery, basketball, and darts in Game Pigeon on our phones (it *is* a sports bar after all). And when we come out to the parking lot afterwards, it’s just starting to rain again.
Back at the campground, we climb into the tent just in time for the next downpour. It looks like this will be our night! From the tent, we hear the roar of the creek just below us and train whistles from trains coming down the tracks on the other side of the creek. Plus thunder and rain. So much rain.
At 11 pm, the Sheriff drives through the park with a message playing on the loudspeaker that severe weather will be developing in the area over the next several hours. What does this mean for us? Is he telling us to leave? Just warning us that it’s going to get sketchy? We don’t know. What I do know is that our little tent site #94 at Palisades State Park ends up with a raging river on two sides of us by 1 am.
The storm gets so loud and vicious that I can’t fall asleep, despite Husband’s snores being drowned out entirely by the rain on our tent and the rushing water of the creeks. So at 1 am, I check the weather app and see that we’re now in a flood warning, which makes sense since I can hear the small trickle of a creek beside us now rip-roaring and emptying into the larger one. It’s already flooded half the campsite and is still rising. What I can’t understand is how the weather reports could be so wrong all day and into the evening, predicting an end to the rain in “2 hours” no matter what time of day I checked. Regardless of time, the radar always seemed to look like this:
I wake Husband. I know we’re *probably* okay where we are (the tent is on the highest ground on the site), but I don’t want to be a news headline for all the wrong reasons. And I can’t sleep when I’m terrified the way I am. I like data. I like being able to analyze data and figure out the *right* answer to problems. Husband thinks we’re safe where we are. But he agrees that if the kids and I aren’t sleeping because we don’t feel safe, then we should get a hotel.
So at 2 am, I book a hotel 6 miles down the road. We aren’t even sure we can get out of the campground. When we try, we face a small bridge already under several inches of swiftly moving water, a veritable river flowing up and around both sides of it as well as through it. We make the right decision and don’t try to go through it, but it’s scary how quickly your mind thinks “Well, it’s just a couple inches deep. We could probably…” I’ve seen too many videos. Instead, we turn around to wake the camp host (a saint!) who instructs us to use a service road to get to the main highway and tells us if we can’t get out for whatever reason, we can move the tent to any open site.
We reach our hotel safely by 2:30 am, but it takes an hour for the adrenaline to wear off before I can even think of sleep. Water is no joke. It’s powerful and fast and unpredictable.
Older Child says the quiet of the hotel is weird after so many hours of listening to rain pounding the tent. They say it’s like being at the beach all day and then coming home and still hearing the phantom echo of waves in your ear. It certainly is.
I know people keep telling us we’re creating so many amazing memories for our family, but this kind? This kind, I could do without. For now, I’m just glad we’re safe and dry and can hopefully get a few hours of sleep.
Day 18: 6/19/24 From: Sheridan, WY To: Badlands National Park, SD (Cedar Pass Campground) Distance: 322 miles
Up at 8:30, showers again whoo! 2 in 12 hours and I relish every drop of hot water. We mosey out of the hotel and head to Perkins for breakfast. Bad news. They don’t have gluten-free pancakes so Older Child goes hungry until we get to the car for GF snacks. They also seem kind of down today, ready to wrap up this trip and head home. We offer to send them on a plane, but they just kind of look at me like I’ve lost my mind… Guess we’ll keep driving.
Before we leave Perkins, Husband decides he absolutely must play the claw game. It’s 5 tries for the price of whatever one credit card swipe gives you and he ends up scoring two stuffed animals on his last two tries. He celebrates his win on the way out as I nod to another parent waiting to be seated and tell her this is actually my third child.
When we get on Rt 90, Siri tells us we have 312 miles to go on this road. Well. At least we have no twisty-turny-windy roads today. But the wind is vicious, with 40 mph crosswinds. Driving the speed limit at 80 mph, it’s a lot to fight against.
Along the way, we pass The Cowboy Church, which intrigues us enough to look up online. Husband thinks it’s a place where cowboys learn to cowboy. I think it’s an actual church. Turns out it’s a Wesleyan church, not a place to teach cowboying. I win.
We see a Cabela’s (which might be the tenth one we’ve seen or the twelfth or the fifteenth; we’ve lost track) and we stop so Husband can pick up sandals since he’s finally worn the old ones out beyond repair. Younger Child says he’s like a “new man” with his new shoes. He thanks the old pair for being good to him for six years, then tosses them in the trash outside the store.
About 45 miles out from the town of Wall, South Dakota, we start seeing signs on the side of the road for Wall Drug, where you can get a milk shake, root beer, coffee for 5 cents (free with a donut if you’re a veteran or a honeymooner), western wear, bison burgers, jewelry, gold, homemade fudge, an 80 ft brontosaurus, and pretty much anything else you can imagine. And the signs never stop. For the next 45 miles, there are signs every half mile or so. Wall Drug has been featured in Parade magazine and People magazine. It’s been mentioned in the New York Times.
At this point, we do exactly what they want us to do. We say, “Okay, I’ve got to check this place out.” So I look it up online and find out that Wall Drug sees upwards of 2 million tourists per year. Fine. We’ll go. But only because I need Ibuprofen for a headache and they do, at least, actually have a drug store. It’s a quaint old-style “town” and I could see how people could get sucked in for hours.
But I’m done with Wall Drug after just two of the many, many, many stores. I have to remind Younger Child that we cannot possibly look at every item here, but I think they might be trying anyway. So I sit on a bench out front, type up today’s experiences and wait for the family to be as done peopling as I am. (I waited until it looked empty to take a photo, but nothing about this place was empty. So many people!)
We get to the campground in the Badlands National Park around 5, set up our tent in the wind that’s still blowing, and make a quick dinner from dehydrated camp meals. Then we head for a drive through the park to see the rugged landscape, gawk at barn swallows that have claimed an entire shed as their nesting ground, and watch the sunset. The sky is mostly overcast and rain is predicted tonight, but there’s a sliver of cloudless sky on the horizon and it’s enough to make for a spectacular sunset. In fact, it creates a rainbow in the storm front moving in from behind where we stand and sets the grassland glowing. You’ll have to wait to see it, of course, as I’ll be spending the next few weeks processing the photos. But when I do, they’ll all be here on the website. Plus, let’s be real, I’m sure I’ll share them on social media.
Back at the campground in the dark, we get ready for bed. But first? A game of Oregon Trail. I “die” on the second card played— a whole 4% into the game. Younger Child “dies” on the next card. Husband declares this is stupid and we must start over. We do.
Guess who’s the first player to die? Husband “drowns” 20% into the game. We mourn his loss and I follow him to the grave a little after 80% into the game. As we play, we hear coyotes in the distance. It’s an incredible sound. Both kids make it to Oregon in the game, so we celebrate for them, call it a night, and head to bed. After tonight, we have only one more night in a tent. Then we’re into three nights of hotels before heading back home. I’ll miss camping!
Day 17: 6/18/24 From: Yellowstone National Park, WY (Grant Village Campground) To: We’ll know when we get there (Sheridan, WY by way of the Bighorn Scenic Byway, by way of Cody, WY by way of Cooke City, MT Distance: 316 miles
There’s an inch of snow on the ground when we wake up. The sleeping bags were warm enough with the extra blankets, but no one really wants to get out. We do anyway. But with the roads the way they are, we’re reluctant to take the drive over the continental divide again.
So we decide we’re not going to camp another night here since it’s supposed to be another 5-10 degrees colder tonight. Last night was doable. But not really a whole lot of fun. We eat breakfast, pack up camp, and check out by 8:45. We’ll still drive the park today since the weather is better (still 35 degrees!) but we’re not camping.
What will we do? <shrug> We don’t know. We’ll figure it out when we’re done sightseeing at the park and have reception again. We’ll probably drive halfway to the Badlands (which is our destination tomorrow) and book a hotel somewhere along the way. This is where being flexible pays off.
The kids? Have been real troopers. They have been so good at rolling with the punches. The kind of camping we just did with the supplies we (didn’t) have is not for the faint of heart. Still, there was laughter and joking and conversation. We had a snowball fight this morning, and I even built a little snowman. On June 18th.
We check out early and head towards Grand Prismatic Spring to see it in the daylight hours. It’s a half-hour wait just to get into the parking lot, but it’s beautiful in the sun! Then it’s off through the rest of the park via the middle of the figure 8 of the Yellowstone roads and up through the northeast side and into the Lamar Valley.
Along the way, we see bison, elk, pronghorn, mountain goats, and 4 black bears before we leave the park from the northeast entrance. We intend to follow the road into Montana and back to Wyoming again, but we’re in for a shock. As we exit the park, a sign reads “Beartooth Highway Closed.”
The map says that the Beartooth Highway is closed from October – late May for snow, but now??! Oh right, we just had snow. Panicked, we pop into the post office at Cooke City (which is adorable and probably a great place to vacation, by the way) to ask if someone can point us in the right direction since we are without cell reception and won’t have it for most of today’s drive. The postal worker at the desk is a wonderful human who helps us first with his knowledge that we still should be able to get where we want to go, and next by printing out Google Map directions for us like it’s 1998. I hug the paper to my chest and relish having real directions. And we owe this man. Because this route is way more scenic than what we might otherwise have seen.
The drive is amazing. The scenery is incredible. Had we not decided to leave Yellowstone early, we never would have seen any of this. Sometimes things that go wrong are really just things going right. We drive through Chief Joseph Scenic Byway, which is a series of hairpin turns (no, not as bad as Independence Pass in Colorado, and this time there are guard rails), but the views are simply incredible. We can see the snow coming down on mountain peaks around us and the rolling hillside around us makes it seem almost like we’re in another country.
When we get to Cody, we’ve got cell reception again, so I pull up the a hotel in Sheridan, WY and book it. We are ready for hot showers and warm beds. We just have to drive 3 more hours to get there. But we’re unprepared for the continued gorgeousness of the scenery. I mean, we were just in Yellowstone, right? How could it get better? Well, I’m pretty sure Wyoming cornered the market when it comes to scenic vistas. We take the Bighorn Scenic Byway through Bighorn National Park and while we don’t see any of the famous sheep, we do see a total of 4 moose along the way, as well as numerous elk, deer, and pronghorn. The landscape is ever changing and along the way, different rock walls are marked with what period they’re from, which was super cool as we were driving past, but obviously nothing I actually retained since I can’t remember any of it now as I type. Cambrian, Pennsylvanian, and some other time periods from a really long time ago. What I do know is that the rock changes drastically in shape and color and size. But also, the landscape itself changes.
We have seen rolling meadows, green hillsides, rocky crags, and a panoramic landscape that makes us feel like we’re literally on top of the world. We stop at one scenic overlook to take photos and Husband creates a small army of chipmunks (and one golden mantled ground squirrel twice their size — he must be the general). I laugh and photograph him taking video of them. Then I decide I might have to call him Cinderella.
When we reach our hotel in Sheridan, we’re excited to find it’s a suite with a kitchenette and a free laundry room I will definitely utilize. Hot showers, fresh pizza from Powder River Pizza & Pub, and television tonight.
While doing laundry, I meet a retired woman from Florida who’s traveling with her husband across the country and visiting national parks, much like us. We also end up talking with a man from North Carolina who’s traveling cross-country on his motorcycle and who just came from Devil’s Tower earlier in the day. The three of us have conversations about the parks and the best places to visit and the best times to visit them. The laundry room is an oasis of kindred spirits tonight. It makes folding clothes so much more enjoyable.
Then bed. We pass out quickly, our many snores filling the room. Tomorrow, we head for the Badlands, and because of today, it’s half the drive it would have been. Win!
Day 16: 6/17/24 From: Grand Teton National Park, WY (Colter Bay Campground) To: Yellowstone National Park, WY (Grant Village Campground) Distance: 33 miles (+ many miles of mindless park driving)
It’s cold. But nowhere near as cold as it will be tonight. At least we were toasty warm in our sleeping bags and blankets last night. And our dude-bro friends are up at 8, which means we get music again. No singing yet, but I don’t want to hear this, so I am in favor of leaving ASAP.
We’re on the road by 9:30 and at Yellowstone by 10:30. But now there’s a steady cold rain. Check-in isn’t until 1, so we decide we’re going to drive to see some of the sights. Bad idea.
We drive three extra hours to try to see sites around the park, but the traffic is awful and all we manage to see is a bunch of steam from hot springs beyond our sight (there’s no parking to be had) and the occasional bison. The parking lots for Old Faithful and for the Grand Prismatic Spring are packed. It’s a zoo.
So we drive back and set up the tent at 2 in cold wind. At least the rain stops for 15 minutes so we can set up. Then we climb in, huddle beneath blankets and in sleeping bags and take a much-needed 3-hour nap.
When we wake, we are reluctant to get out of sleeping bags, but we do and we head to the gift shop/grocery store/grill to get dinner. It’s an hour before closing and they are out of almost everything. No fries, no cheese, no creamer for coffee, and a whole list of other things I didn’t listen to. Sandwiches and drinks are all we need anyway! We watch the snow falling outside and then shop for an hour to stock up on anything we might need for the cold, cold night ahead. A hat for Husband, gloves for me and Younger Child, a couple of extra sweatshirts, and we’re set.
When we get outside again, the snow has stopped. We debate going back to Old Faithful and Grand Prismatic again since no one seems to be on the roads, and as we’re debating, we see an doe elk and her suckling calf. Now we have to take a drive. Even if it *is* 8 pm. (We all just had a lengthy nap after all…) So we brave the impending night and weather and trek out into the falling snow (again) and across the continental divide (again) and head to Old Faithful with just enough time to walk from the empty parking lot, wait 5 minutes, and watch it spout high into the air. Amidst the falling snow. How magical! There’s hardly anyone here at all and this feels like an incredible gift.
Leaving the geyser, we spot a gorgeous bull elk grazing in the pasture. Do we risk driving a little farther to see if we can catch Grand Prismatic Spring before complete darkness? We do. And we get there after dusk. It’s a long walk on a boardwalk that’s mostly frozen from the steam of the hot springs and the currently 30 degree temps. There’s not much color to see at this point, but with no one here, it’s hauntingly beautiful. (Literally, almost no one. There’s one person here – a girl from Chicago who caught up to us mostly because she didn’t want to be walking it alone, but wanted to see it before she leaves the park.) By the time we return to the car, it’s completely dark and both kids are convinced they’re somehow going to die. And of course…husband finds a ring on the ground in the parking lot, in the dark. Who needs a metal detector? (All these plummeting temps must be making those rings just slide off cold fingers.)
We have an hour drive back through dark and snow to get to our side of the park. It’s a little harrowing, but we make it back to the camp by 11, brush teeth, and hop into freezing sleeping bags that take some time to warm.
And in the middle of the night, Younger Child and Husband heard elk bugling to each other somewhere near the campground. I pretend not to be jealous, but—OH!—*these* are the sounds I want to hear in nature!
Day 14: 6/15/24 From: Crater Lake, OR To: Boise, ID Distance: 418 miles (+ some)
Um, it’s snowing. In mid-June. We’re out the door by 8 am and the cloud cover above us is thick. But snow? I guess it *is* 32 degrees, so it’s not unprecedented. But also not exactly expected either. We’re east-coasters. June means warmth.
After a small snafu where we leave the park in the wrong direction thanks to zero reception, we head north through the Umpqua National Forest and Fremont-Winema National Forest where we continue to be snowed on for the next hour. This is surreal. When we have reception again, the Maps app turns us around again and we’ve basically taken a very roundabout way to get out of the park, but we didn’t add any time to today’s drive. Thankfully. 7 hours is 7 hours.
One thing I notice about Oregon is the purple wildflowers along the roadside. Some are close to the ground, and some grow a foot high or more. But purple seems to be the color here. As opposed to the white, pink, and red flower bushes (roses?) growing along California roads.
The surroundings quickly change as we drive back into the desert — still Oregon, but no longer woodsy and pine-filled. Sun, scrub brush, and dry hills. But it’s not hot here! It may look a bit like Arizona, but it’s definitely not. Still only 54 degrees at 11 am.
In this strange terrain we see two antelope — the first of the trip! And they dart when they see us, leaping across the desert scrub, their fluffy white butts to us.
After some time, Husband grows bored of this drive and begins to make up his own song.
“There’s nothing out here Nothing at all I can’t even Make a call
I’m just driving In my car I can see So damn far”
I take over driving for the last two hours or so and we get stuck behind an enormous line of traffic for miles upon miles because of an oversized load that refuses to pull off the highway to let the mile backup pass him… Does Oregon not believe in 4-lane highways? What’s with all the secondary highways? I guess not enough people live here to make it worth it? Still, it was maddening to drive 35-45 miles an hour in a 65 mph zone for a good 15-20 minutes.
We arrive at our hotel in Boise at 5 pm, sad because we’re officially back on Mountain Time and out of Pacific, officially on our return trip. Husband and Older Child go out for dinner while Younger Child and I stay in and catch a nap. I tweaked something in my neck today (yay), so I’m trying to give it a little bit of a rest. And a rest usually ends up meaning sleep, so… Husband comes back at 9:30 with dinner for me and Younger Child — the problem with going for dinner late on a Saturday evening is anything brought back will be brought back even later.
I check the weather forecast for the next few days and am a bit gutted to find it’s going to be very, very cold at night for the next few nights. And we’re in a tent. So while most of my friends back home are headed into a dangerous heat wave, I hope they all think of us, shivering in our tent over the next few days.
Do I place an order for blankets at a Target in Jackson, Wyoming so we can pick them up tomorrow on our way to our next campground? Yes, I do. Because modern problems call for modern solutions and the internet is our friend.
Day 13: 6/14/24 From: San Francisco, CA To: Crater Lake, OR Distance: 417 miles
I’m up at 6:45 and grab a quick shower before waking the rest of the family. We enjoy a hot breakfast and are on the road a little after 8, in time to catch rush hour traffic in the area. Congested, yes, but at least it moves. San Francisco is not LA.
We’re in for a long drive today and the next few as we head back east again. And back to windy mountain roads after the California highways. We travel the highway that wraps around Mt. Shasta and take in the snowy peaks growing ever closer. I’m thankful Husband’s cold is mostly gone, but he’s having issues equilibrating his ears due to lingering congestion, so the ups and downs on this leg of the journey are a bit of an annoyance for him. No one else came down with his cold, and for that, we celebrate.
We exit one highway into a town called Weed, and yes, they play it up here just as you would expect they would. “I love Weed” souvenirs abound. We do not stop to buy any. Shortly after, we cross a lake called Grass Lake that looks far more like a meadow than a lake, which is where it got its name, I’m sure. (And not because it came right after Weed.)
We pass the Butte Valley National Grasslands with the Cascade Mountains as a backdrop and it’s all so breathtaking. The closer we get to Crater Lake National Park, the greener our surroundings. After the golden California hills, the deep pine woods of Oregon are refreshing. Husband stops to check out the gorge where Annie Creek runs…and finds a random dollar in the weeds. Who does this? Husband. Of course.
We reach Crater Lake and quickly notice the piles of snow all through the woods. It’s June 14th and there are large piles of snow in the woods. We check in and head to our adorable cabin at the Mazama Village where Husband immediately collapses facedown into a bed. I DID offer to help with the drive today. He declined. I absolve myself of his exhaustion.
After a short rest break, we’re back in the car and headed to the crater that makes this park so amazing. But the Rim Drive is closed after two stops. Why? There’s so much snowmelt and it freezes on the roads overnight. Yes, you read that correctly. There’s a lot of snow on top of this volcano.
There’s no shortage of views, though. The water at Crater Lake is an insane deep blue, and so calm, it looks almost inviting. But that’s a high dive you wouldn’t want to take now or ever. Even in late summer without recent snowmelt, the water here is cold, the average temperature reaching only 55-60 degrees at the surface.
Husband and Younger Child head up a steep hiking trail for a different view of the lake and the cinder cone inside of it. I stay put since I don’t want to challenge my hip today. I’d say Older Child stays to keep me company, but I think they’re just tired of hikes at this point and need a break to check social media.
Once again, I’m kind of glad for a change in plans. We were supposed to be camping in Farewell Bend campground, but pests and diseases meant they had to take down a lot of trees, so the campground has been closed until next year. I was notified all of two weeks before our trip, but was able to panic book the single remaining cabin at the Mazama Village. (Which is closer to the crater anyway – win!)
It’s supposed to be a low of 29 degrees tonight. It’s 53 now and breezy, but not bad in the sun as I type this from the crater’s rim. 29 degrees in a tent with sleeping bags only rated for 40 degrees? No. No thank you. So this minor inconvenience ended up being a major blessing. We’ll be comfy and cozy in our cabin tonight.
The nice part about arriving with plenty of time and already having seen the bit of the park we’re able to is that we have plenty of time for doing laundry, which is sorely needed at this point. So that’s our next stop. The kids stay in the cabin and we head for laundry. I am quite certain both kids are happy to be free of us for a couple of hours. We’ve been in each other’s faces nonstop for almost two weeks now.
Husband and I are celebrating our 21st anniversary today just the way I like to. (No, not doing laundry.) Low-key adventures like the one we’ve been on are all the gift I’ll ever need. This is the gift. This life we have together. And I mean, he DID find me a ring in Muir Woods yesterday, so…
After the laundry, we hang out in the cabin. The kids draw while I read. Husband is antsy and doesn’t like sitting still, so he decides to go to the park office to ask if we’re allowed to head to the crater rim for night photos. I’m shocked to hear it’s allowed and doesn’t require a special permit! So now we have to decide what ridiculous time we’re going to get up in order to take photos. Because this opportunity won’t come again.
Sigh. We’re insane.
So we set the alarm for 2 am, layer up, and head out into the 34 degree weather to see what we can see. Which…isn’t much. Because the entire cabin village is shrouded in thick, white fog. Maybe it will be clearer at the rim?
Friends, it will not. We take the twenty minute ride to West Rim Drive to find out the fog is so thick, we’re now basically inside of clouds. There will be no Milky Way photos over Crater Lake. Twenty minutes back down and we jump back into pajamas and into bed again.
Along the way, we happened to catch sight of three deer and a raccoon, so I guess it wasn’t totally pointless?
Artistic Earth Photography 