The Trek South – Washington/Oregon
Arms topped up with booster shots, our very own mobile bubble (trailer/caravan) and copious supplies of masks and sanitizer, a trip down south to hopefully warmer climes seemed a safer option for travel. Initial plans for taking the Black Ball ferries and cutting 60 miles off the dreaded I-5 highway went out the window when CBC news announced another Trucker’s protest in Victoria — in front of the Parliament buildings and right outside the Ferry terminal the weekend we planned to leave! Hmph! So, we resorted to BC ferries and spent the night at Glen’s sister’s on the Mainland — it was lovely to catch up after two years – a real bonus.
Sunday dawned sunny. The US border was unusually quiet. A pair of very pleasant guards, armed with our fist full of keys for the various locks and padlocks, did a quick check of the trailer and shiny new aluminum truck box containing our folding bikes and generator . . . they especially liked the bikes! Of course me still being a ‘landed innergrunt’ (permanent resident) I had to provide finger prints, an additional mugshot and fervent protestations to return to Canada before May 1st. They also had to check that carrots and bell peppers were not on the prohibited list. . . but we’ll have to eat the oranges before reaching California. Passport duly stamped and back to the parking lot, where some poor souls were waiting forlornly as their mini van was being thoroughly searched. . . personal belongings scattered far and wide. Luck was with us . . . perhaps it was our honest faces . . . . more likely it was the bright orange folding bikes. No self-respecting criminal would be seen with those!
Mount Baker gleamed crisply like a freshly iced Christmas Cake as we travelled south. I don’t know what it is about Washington State highways, but they set up a resonance-bouncing between truck and trailer which becomes unmanageable at higher speeds — the jolts make normal speech virtually impossible –like talking through hiccups. And despite monstrous billboards extolling their benefits, all T-Mobile stores kept well hidden until already past! Guess you need a phone card to find one!!!
As in the past, the convenience of highway Rest Stops can’t be beaten for a quick over-nighter (no need to unhitch). However selecting a suitable one is crucial — a thick, treed barrier from the highway, and separated section for RVs and Transport trucks (who leave their engines running all the while) is essential. Ear plugs provide the final ingredient for a peaceful night.
Early breakfast and on the road. Past Boeing Field, and the massive, city-sized Joint Army/Airforce training centre Lewis-McChord- which appears to go on for miles. The Willamete valley is as flat as a pancake, the distant mountains providing a picturesque backdrop. Vineyards aplenty, hazel nut trees with catkins dangling, blueberry farms, their red stems glowing. The flatness gradually transformed into undulating grass-covered hills topped with swaths of darker woodland, sheep and newborn lambs dotted the slopes. Apparently Linn County has over 1300 grass seed farms and claims it is the grass seed capitol of the world. How would they know?. . . who counts the seeds, I wonder?
Sadly, the embankments leading into Portland are lined with tented homeless camps – an all-too-familiar sight in most places these days. Service workers were battling manfully . . . . personfully? . . . to overcome the avalanche of garbage sliding down to the freeway.
A constant stream of transporter trucks thundered along . . . . shiny red or silver cabs, dusty mud-streaked blue and black models. One stood out from the rest — a gleaming purple rig with every chrome surface polished to mirror quality. Pride of ownership indeed. Then we drove past a sign for Drain, Oregon .. . what a great place to hold a convention for Public Health Officers!
Just south of Eugene we stopped for gas and noticed a large billboard advertising Creswell Bakery as a must stop. https://www.creswellbakery.com/ Tiny town with one main street, a library and city hall we wondered if it would be worth it, but if you are in the neighbourhood . . . please DO NOT MISS this gem. Been around since 2008 . . . part of the building looks like an old church hall. Face masks required — you enter and place your order . . . are given an odd-looking round red ‘puck’ with lights and asked to wait outside for your ‘puck’ to buzz – indicating your food is ready. Outdoor picnic benches socially distanced in the sun, surrounded by vines and trees was not hard to take . . . perhaps not quite so enchanting in the pouring rain, but then eating in your car would always be an option. DO try the Chicken Hand Pies . . . piping hot . . . golden brown flaky pastry surrounded shredded and chunked chicken with a subtle amount of veggies and just the barest dash of salt. We went back in for more to stash in the fridge for future lunches. Some outstanding Sourdough bread too. This is one of those memorable places you’d like to keep hidden in case it gets too popular.
A change in the landscape again . . . this time the scenery was distinctly more BC in appearance. Steep hillsides cloaked in dark evergreens like crumpled eiderdowns with rushing creeks at their base. Long inclines rising 2000 ft — now all those truck who had roared past us so easily, were reduced to a crawling, lumbering line. Grant’s Pass — a junction. Do we continue on the I-5 into central California, or turn right and travel the coastal road. There appear to be some forest fires inland, however the coast road could be foggy. Decisions, decisions. Will stay overnight and decide in the morning.
