Frustrations

 Writing a daily blog is not always easy.  The writing is not so difficult, there's plenty to write about, but accessing the Internet can be.  I travel unusual paths.  There are two places I can figure on getting on line, the public library and McDonald's.

In most cities, the library keeps the WiFi system going 24 hours a day as a service to the community, but there are still libraries that shut everything down when they close.  McDonald's are few and far between in remote areas.  That's the way it was yesterday at Estacada. 

So, I have been missing chunks of the story.  I've yet to write about the Redwood National Park, campgrounds I've stayed at, and the many people I've talked to.  Those stories will have to wait until I return from this tour and fill in the blanks.  Today, I will write about Oregon, leaving Nevada and California for later.

Soon after I crossed the border into Oregon, I fell in love.  I took Highway 101 along the coast, going from little village to little village with ocean scenes in between.

I camped west of Gold Beach on the Rogue River at Lobster Creek.  I spent part of the morning wandering along the creek looking for agates, but had no luck.  Then I told stories at the library.  Everyone wanted to talk to me afterwards, so I had a late start getting back on the road, and that meant I didn't get as far as I wanted.  It meant I had to "settle" for Cape Perpetua near Yachats.  Settle  This is the view there:

I asked Gary why I had to return home.

At the grocery store in Yachuts, I asked the checkout clerk why young people ever left the state. 

"It rains six months a year," he said. 

Never mind, I thought, this place is beautiful, but with regrets I tore myself away from the coast and headed north.  Then at Portland, I met the mother of all traffic jams.  I amended my Oregon-lust thoughts to exclude that city. 

I camped at Lost Bend west of Estacada last night, lucky to snag the last free campsite on a Friday night.

It began to rain at 1:00 a.m.  I finally gave up at 7:00 and packed up in the pounding rain.

One of the other campers walked by and shrugged.  "It's Oregon," she said.

Oregon, you were one cruel lover this morning. But I still hold you in a corner of my heart.