The 5:45am shuttle bus told us to wake, restless and lethargic in our shopping centre carpark. Morning joggers were too vibrant in lycra as they whisked past our curtained van. Starbucks again would raise us from our slumber, and only a 2minute drive at that.
An update on fires in Oregon, some hot days ahead, 37c, meant we shold tred carefully. We had planned to go further East inland however new fires made us change plans and instead we would continue North towards Portland and aim for Mt Hood.
Back on the road we rumbled along the I-5, plenty of semi-trailers and RV's. Our smile at the naming of one particular RV, 'D-Clutter'. Maybe it was so, if they had previously lived in a 5 storey house. For this RV was larger than any semi-trailer. Each to their own, as we buzzed past in our cluttered little van. A quick stop for blueberries and before long we were making our way up into the Mt Hood National Forest. Sadly, the air was heavy with smoke and visibility no more than 500 metres if that. A petrol stop and our attendant said it had only just come in last night, yesterday was clear. A shame, but not much we could do about it. We made our way winding around Mt Hood to a small park area for a trail hike to Elk Meadows. Fingers crossed we would see some of the U.S's larger animals.
The trail was dusty, though it meandered through creeks and over glacier rivers. It rose and fell and had our hearts beating. Some stops for water and after two hours we came across a vast open meadow aptly named Elk Meadows. Not for the elk, but because it was a meadow. The elk were hiding, or invisible, or never existed, we wouldn't know. But it was a lovely meadow, as meadow's go. Grass, grass, and more grass. More grass than an elk could ever dream to have.
On our trail back to the van, some googling was recommended. The pine trees around us appear to be dying, some more than others, from possibly a disease or a bug within. They didn't look healthy, so we wanted to look into that. We wondered if an ancient forest bear was rubbing himself against the pines which was slightly uprooting them.
We also came across a sign for huckleberry picking, certain areas were restricted for native american pickers only. We took some photos of what we thought might be huckleberries, but needed to google that as well. These seemed to be similar to a blueberry but from a more wild bush.
Nearing camp time, we chose a small road to wind through and make our picking. Now with experience, we quickly drove past those we knew were just sample spots, the best were yet to come. Sure enough, further along we found our hideaway. The sound of a creek nearby led us to explore.
Neither of us could recall how many days since our swimming pool shower. So with that answer, we felt it was time for a wash. Using a cloth, one of us stripped down and stepped into the creek which came up to his ankles. Quickly wetting the washcloth he began rubbing water all over. Losing all feeling in his feet, he decided to step out of the creek to continue the wash. Jamie chose the smarter option and remained out of the creek to conduct her wash. In the end, definitely not a professional clean, now how the bears do it, but a wash nonetheless. We should be good for another week now at least.
Back to our camping spot, kransky and mash for dinner with saurkraut and mustard, a couple of beers and wine, we were ready for bed. No buses to rouse us, we would see if the smoke would clear in the night.
A slow start to the morning, we were thoroughly delighted to open our curtains, push open the doors and see a beautiful mountain looking down at us. We gave thanks to Mt Hood and spent nearly the entire day relaxing at our campsite, washing our clothes, listening to the wind through the pines, the water in the creek and the critters chatting amongst themselves. A nothing day except peace and pause.
An update on fires in Oregon, some hot days ahead, 37c, meant we shold tred carefully. We had planned to go further East inland however new fires made us change plans and instead we would continue North towards Portland and aim for Mt Hood.
Back on the road we rumbled along the I-5, plenty of semi-trailers and RV's. Our smile at the naming of one particular RV, 'D-Clutter'. Maybe it was so, if they had previously lived in a 5 storey house. For this RV was larger than any semi-trailer. Each to their own, as we buzzed past in our cluttered little van. A quick stop for blueberries and before long we were making our way up into the Mt Hood National Forest. Sadly, the air was heavy with smoke and visibility no more than 500 metres if that. A petrol stop and our attendant said it had only just come in last night, yesterday was clear. A shame, but not much we could do about it. We made our way winding around Mt Hood to a small park area for a trail hike to Elk Meadows. Fingers crossed we would see some of the U.S's larger animals.
The trail was dusty, though it meandered through creeks and over glacier rivers. It rose and fell and had our hearts beating. Some stops for water and after two hours we came across a vast open meadow aptly named Elk Meadows. Not for the elk, but because it was a meadow. The elk were hiding, or invisible, or never existed, we wouldn't know. But it was a lovely meadow, as meadow's go. Grass, grass, and more grass. More grass than an elk could ever dream to have.
On our trail back to the van, some googling was recommended. The pine trees around us appear to be dying, some more than others, from possibly a disease or a bug within. They didn't look healthy, so we wanted to look into that. We wondered if an ancient forest bear was rubbing himself against the pines which was slightly uprooting them.
We also came across a sign for huckleberry picking, certain areas were restricted for native american pickers only. We took some photos of what we thought might be huckleberries, but needed to google that as well. These seemed to be similar to a blueberry but from a more wild bush.
Nearing camp time, we chose a small road to wind through and make our picking. Now with experience, we quickly drove past those we knew were just sample spots, the best were yet to come. Sure enough, further along we found our hideaway. The sound of a creek nearby led us to explore.
Neither of us could recall how many days since our swimming pool shower. So with that answer, we felt it was time for a wash. Using a cloth, one of us stripped down and stepped into the creek which came up to his ankles. Quickly wetting the washcloth he began rubbing water all over. Losing all feeling in his feet, he decided to step out of the creek to continue the wash. Jamie chose the smarter option and remained out of the creek to conduct her wash. In the end, definitely not a professional clean, now how the bears do it, but a wash nonetheless. We should be good for another week now at least.
Back to our camping spot, kransky and mash for dinner with saurkraut and mustard, a couple of beers and wine, we were ready for bed. No buses to rouse us, we would see if the smoke would clear in the night.
A slow start to the morning, we were thoroughly delighted to open our curtains, push open the doors and see a beautiful mountain looking down at us. We gave thanks to Mt Hood and spent nearly the entire day relaxing at our campsite, washing our clothes, listening to the wind through the pines, the water in the creek and the critters chatting amongst themselves. A nothing day except peace and pause.
The smoke must be a bit disconcerting....
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