We left Homer slightly nervously on Sunday, July 2. We weren’t sure we’d be able to find a camping spot right in the middle of a holiday weekend. With some good potential spots and a few good backup options surrounding the town of Kenai, we took our chances and headed up the coast. In a stroke of good fortune, we got an excellent campsite overlooking the Cook Inlet, the huge body of water that makes its way inland to Anchorage. The relatively laidback campground was only half full for our three nights there, and it was too far from civilization for us to be disturbed by late-night fireworks. The campground’s harmless bicycle gang of kids stayed up until midnight driving endless circles around the campground loop, but we couldn’t complain when they got up and out even later than we did each morning. We breathed a sigh of relief when the long holiday weekend was over, and we are grateful to have had a much easier time finding campsites than on Memorial Day weekend.

Taken at 11pm over Cook Inlet.

Glowing wildflowers

Volcanoes on the horizon.

After more than four months on the road, we have begun to tire of my standard set of recipes. We’ve had some iteration of tacos way too many times, and even our favorite RV meals just sound…overplayed. I haven’t baked much in the RV, mostly because it feels like a waste of resources. Baking involves generator use, extra dishes (and extra water), and precious cabinet space for ingredients I may not use often. Then there is the issue of wanting to make something and not having cell service to find the recipe. Or sometimes I have the ingredient list saved but forget to include the part of the recipe with the actual baking instructions. Struggles aside, we really needed some menu changes. I am happy to report that in the last week, we have gotten more creative and have made and enjoyed beef pho, our favorite green onion and feta turkey burgers, chocolate chip banana bread, spicy veal chili, and buttermilk cornbread. Yum! This trip has been mostly about necessities, but we certainly have fun splurging a bit on the menu!

Warm banana bread – yum!

Believe me, there is something extra special about a steaming loaf of banana bread made in the RV at our boondocking spot in the middle of nowhere. I had to be more efficient with the dishes used to keep my busboy from striking (and to make sure we had enough water to shower!), and determining the proper cook time in our little microwave/oven contraption required some guesswork. It took extra thought during our grocery trip two days prior to make sure I had all the ingredients I needed. We asked that generator to run well for a longer time period than normal to get that loaf perfectly baked. With all the work Nic has done, it happily complied. The result was absolutely perfect. The warm loaf came out of the pan just like at home, leaving behind just a few spoonfuls of the heavy chocolate chippy perfection that hangs out at the bottom of my banana bread. My cook time estimate was right on, and we got the slightly gooey loaf we prefer. We ate it happily, staring out at the snowy mountains surrounding our RV.

We arrived in the Seward area a few days ago, once we thought holiday festivities had safely passed. We found a great free camping spot outside of town on the road that leads to Exit Glacier. While I freaked out and tried to ignore what was going on, Nic very skillfully maneuvered us through some very bumpy rocky areas to our gravel riverbed campsite. A few other campers joined us that evening and the next, one of whom enjoyed doing some rapid-fire target practice within sight of us. Overall, we enjoyed the great views and the peaceful vibe of the place. We still don’t complain about free either. Our nightly average has gone up to just under $7.00, since we haven’t been able to find as much free camping in Canada and Alaska.

Free camping outside of Seward.

The camping area was surprisingly devoid of wildlife until just before we left. I let the dogs out on our last morning and noticed an eagle perched by the creek about fifty yards from us. I don’t know if an eagle would be interested in snacking on Homer, but I kept a careful eye on him while our tasty little dog made his morning rounds. Pooches safely inside, I grabbed the camera and slowly walked closer to the eagle. I managed to get about thirty feet away from him, with only a shallow creek separating us. While I let the dogs back inside, he had caught a fat salmon that must have been over a foot long. As I approached him I could see the fish flopping around under the eagle’s talons. The eagle had to use his wings to balance himself as he struggled with the desperate fish. When he had sufficiently subdued the fish, he began to rip into its flesh, taking bloody chunks from the still-flopping body. While I felt a little disgusted to watch the still-alive salmon die one eagle bite at a time, it was pretty incredible to see the strength of the eagle. He guarded his prey carefully, looking skyward in between mouthfuls. When some seagulls ventured over to check things out, he screamed angrily at them, threatening them to stay away. After returning to the RV, we continued to watch the spectacle from our window. A female eagle joined her mate, and then another pair of eagles appeared to get a piece of the action. We watched the birds as we ate our oatmeal. Only seeing bears eating salmon would have been better breakfast entertainment.

Flopping fish

Getting bloody

Screaming at seagulls

In flight

After our two nights outside of Seward, we made our way back into civilization. We (and hundreds of other RV campers) are camped now in the bustling waterfront area of Seward. When we arrived yesterday, two huge cruise ships dominated the harbor skyline. We could barely get the internet to work on our phones, since Seward’s tiny bandwidth (meant for a population of less than 3,000) couldn’t handle all the visitors. We happily watched the cruise ships leave last night, and we have slightly better internet now. After so much remote camping, we have enjoyed the opportunity to walk to locations right from our RV. We have visited the library and the grocery store on foot, and the waterfront path’s sights have kept my eyes occupied as I’ve caught up on phone calls today. We’ll find some fish and chips for Nic tonight and get some laundry done tomorrow. For now, we are watching boats come in and out of the busy harbor as Nic applies for jobs in Montana. Our biggest concern of the day is staying warm and dry, as it’s rainy and only about 50 degrees.

Exit Glacier

Exit Glacier

In the last few days, we have made our way out on the Kenai Peninsula, a huge natural playground jutting out south of Anchorage.

We left Valdez last weekend, making our way to Anchorage over two easy days of driving through spectacular scenery. Nic fed our RV yet another fuel filter when we started losing engine power just outside of Glennallen. We think the fuel pump is going to fail sometime, and we really hope it will wait until we’ve done about 6,000 more miles. In the meantime, monthly fuel filter snacks seem to appease the monster well enough.

Anchorage provided a breath of…civilization. I can’t say it was refreshing, because we’d choose empty roads and slim grocery choices most days over the rat race of Anchorage. It’s easy enough to get overwhelmed in the rush of people in their daily routines and tourists like us bumbling around clumsily. We did enjoy checking some important items off our to-do list: a very speedy oil change, our second prenatal appointment, an expensive stocking-up groceries trip, lunch at Pita Pit, and a new battery for the old girl.

Did you hear our big news? Our reading list might clue you in on what’s happening in our lives in December!

Between all these errands, we found some quiet and free camping on the Matanuska River. Luna and I enjoyed the paved multiuse path by our campsite, as it gave us a chance for a long and safe run more than ten feet away from traffic and free of the fear of making a new bear friend. Our only choice the day before had been running on the shoulder of a busy highway and then finding dead-ends, seriously debilitated bridges, and threatening private property signs on the few nearby dirt roads. And we can never escape the ever-present possibility of seeing a bear stroll out of the woods. We don’t mind taking our chances on running into a bear, but we do enjoy the peace of mind while running on a nice, friendly paved path. Nic doesn’t threaten to creep behind me on his dirt bike with a shotgun in hand either. (Can you picture that?) Any Alaskan would probably tell me I am just as likely to see a bear on the paved path, but it’s easy to think that’s not the case. You may be surprised to hear that small-town Alaska provides its residents a paved path. I don’t know of many paved paths like this one where we lived in Wisconsin, yet nearly every tiny town here seems to have at least a few miles of path. The paved paths often peter out into dirt 4-wheel trails, which go for many miles around some small towns.

We headed south from Anchorage to charming Girdwood. More Colorado ski town than Alaska frontier, Girdwood was a pleasant stop for us. We slept through a very rainy night, hoping the skies would clear for some hiking the next day. The sun wasn’t shining, and we couldn’t see any blue sky, but the rain had stopped when we woke up the next morning. We have seen very little sunshine since being in Washington state, really, so now we are just very grateful for overcast skies with anything less than drizzle coming down. We took Luna on a hike up Winner Creek. After a pleasant few miles through lush forests, we arrived at a unique hand tram that would carry us across the gorge high above the rushing river. Tram riders and spectators at both sides of the gorge get a workout when they help tow each other across the river by tugging the rope through the pulley system. I had tried to find information online about whether or not dogs could use the hand tram, but I never found solid evidence saying it was possible or permitted. Luna has a rather consistent track record of freaking out on bridges and being somewhat nervous in general, but after watching a few people use the tram, we decided to see if we could get her across. The whole thing was so foreign to her anyway that we thought she would be over the gorge before she even figured out that the situation called for a neurotic episode. She and I crouched in the metal basket together as Nic and some kind strangers pulled us across the river. Luna probably didn’t love the experience as much as rolling in dead fish, but she did just fine and even got some encouraging cheers from spectators.

Nic gets his workout towing a few people across the gorge.

Winner Creek hike.

Nic’s turn to ride!

Hiking by Winner Creek gave us a chance to have an informal executive meeting about the future. We are both really excited about settling down in northwest Montana. While we are still loving the adventure, we are also thrilled for what lies beyond the big road trip. We look forward to that day when we park our vehicles in the same spot every night, get squeaky clean in our own real shower, bake homemade bread, watch our sewage disappear effortlessly, and wash our dishes in a dishwasher. And we now have a hard deadline with a baby on the way in December. We certainly want some time to adjust to new surroundings before the baby’s arrival. So we made our next prenatal appointment in Kalispell about a month from now, and Nic applied for a job. We will swing through the area in late July/early August and try to find a place to live and a job or two. We will make our way back to Wisconsin in August to spend time with friends and family and pack our storage units into a moving truck before heading west for good.

Since the rain continued to hold off after our Winner Creek hike, we decided to squeeze in one more tourist activity for the day. While the Alyeska Ski Resort tram whisked Nic up 2,200 feet of ski hill, I hiked up the steep slope. He gave me a big head start, so we arrived at about the same time. The clouds hovered over the mountains, but we still had a nice view of Turnagain Sound and a few of the hanging glaciers in the area.

Alyeska Ski Resort tram.

Hanging glacier views.

Turnagain Sound

We left Girdwood that afternoon and made the short drive to Whittier. Accessible by road for less than two decades, Whittier is an interesting little town. The only way to drive there is to pass through the one-lane Anton Anderson Memorial Tunnel, the longest combined vehicle-railroad tunnel in North America. We paid our tunnel toll and waited in our assigned lane for our turn in the narrow 2.5-mile tunnel. Traffic alternates between each direction on the half hour, and you can’t drive into town at all hours of the night. A train passes through the tunnel at regular intervals also, which we had a chance to observe while waiting. At 7:30pm on the dot, the tunnel officials began releasing the lanes of traffic around us. The tunnel itself was dark and damp, and Nic said he could feel the slippery train rails pulling on our wheels. We couldn’t see much of Whittier over the next twelve hours because of the heavy downpour of rain. We drove to the end of town the next morning, passing by what was once the largest building in Alaska (built to house 1,000 military personnel during World War II). We also saw the two small condo buildings where the majority of Whittier’s small population now resides. As we headed back to the tunnel, we wondered about the long line of cars coming into town. Whittier does connect with other port towns by ferry, so maybe the cars were headed for other destinations via water.

Kachemak Bay views from the end of Homer Spit.

Trying to follow the path of least precipitation, we headed to Homer next. Our drive took us through beautiful mountain scenery on the Kenai. Eventually, the mountains gave way to the dreaded spruce swamps we had been so happy to escape recently. As we drove toward the Cook Inlet, we hoped we weren’t in for more mosquito wars. Though the flat route took us past famous (and attractive) fishing rivers, we wondered if driving all the way to Homer was worth it. Just before reaching Homer, the highway crested a hill, and we were astonished to see the Kachemak Bay and a backdrop of towering mountains. Worth it. We’ve been enjoying the small town of Homer these last few days. We can see glaciers and mountains from our relatively quiet campsite. We did a few scenic drives, visited the local farmer’s market, acquainted ourselves with the high school pool (very clean and very hot showers), and browsed some interesting local shops. We love this little town at the tip of the Kenai.

After working so hard to get to Alaska quickly, we took a few rest days right over the border at Deadman Lake. I came down with a really nasty cold and needed the rest, and Nic can always use a break from driving seemingly endless miles of bumpy road. And since those days earlier this week, we have slowed our pace considerably. We have to remind ourselves at times that we are in Alaska now. The Last Frontier has long been our end-game for this trip. Now that we have arrived, it’s time to get to know this place.

After leaving Deadman Lake, we arrived at the bustling town of Tok (rhymes with “poke”). A town of 1,400 feels huge when you’ve been in the middle of nowhere. We washed our piles of laundry, took care of our wastewater, and grabbed some groceries. After trying to decipher bilingual labels of unfamiliar brands during our time in Canada, it was great to see some familiar grocery choices. The best part of Tok was the cell service. We eagerly watched for a cell tower during our drive into town. We used our last few days in the USA to catch up with loved ones, and we were starting to feel so uninformed and far away. Most disappointing for me, perhaps, was reading about some improvements in a loved one’s health from his wife’s blog. I wish I had heard the good news through some other avenue. My mom would have told me if she and I had talked, but our time in Canada only gave me a few brief chances to talk to her (with terrible service). I sometimes wonder if people back home think we drove away and never looked back, that we are so consumed by what we are seeing and doing that we aren’t thinking about them anymore. While we are indeed distracted at times by our day-to-day, a big part of our thought-life and prayer-life is still with our friends and small groups in Wisconsin or with our immediate families. We wish we knew everything that was going on in their lives. Distance obviously has its difficulties.

Laundry day – what a mess!

Drive time snuggling.

And sometimes Luna just uses Homer as a lounge toy.

We have continued waging war against the savage mosquito brigade. The inland Alaska we’ve seen so far has been the ideal breeding ground for mosquitoes with standing water covering the permafrost. We thought the stubby black spruce trees were sort of cute and whimsical until we learned that they thrive in swampy areas. So a forest of spruce trees means an evening of all-out mosquito war. Our screened windows are old and less than perfect, but they seem to keep the mosquitoes out. For three nights in a row, however, we woke up in the middle of the night to the high-pitch whine of a mosquito hovering around our heads. Nic jumped out of bed, turned on his headlamp, and began the hunt. He won’t stop until he’s killed some bugs, so these middle-of-the-night battles can drag on for quite some time. We can’t tell exactly how the mosquitoes are getting in, but they sure drive us crazy when they show up for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and a 2am snack.

Summer solstice sunset. Nic took the picture at 11:30pm on the solstice. The sunset stayed this way for a few hours, and the same colors remained in the sky through the middle of the night.

We found some relief from the mosquitoes in Valdez. We hadn’t originally planned to take the 117-mile (each way) detour to Valdez, since we thought it was just an oil town. The Alaska Pipeline ends in Valdez, and all that oil finds a new home on tankers there. We wanted to see some big water, though, and we thought that heading toward the coast might help with the bugs. The drive to Valdez is true Alaska, at least how we had pictured true Alaska in our minds. The highway winds through snow-topped mountains, now mostly wearing their green summer wardrobe. We stopped to see Worthington Glacier before heading over super foggy Thompson Pass, an area deemed the snowiest place in Alaska. Our guidebook says this pass is treacherous in the winter, and I believe it. With 100 monthly inches of snow typical during at least five months of the winter, I wouldn’t want to be anywhere near the hills leading to and from the pass. After driving through Keystone Canyon and past Bridal Veil Falls (probably the fourth waterfall we’ve seen on this trip with that name), we arrived at the outskirts of Valdez and heard the welcome sound of phones buzzing with service.

Worthington Glacier

Valdez sits on the shores of Prince William Sound, so you can’t see the ocean right from town. The glacier-fed sound is milky blue and appears to be surrounded by towering mountains, even in the direction of the ocean. The Chugach Mountains rise 7,000 feet from the water; they are the highest coastal mountains in Alaska. We could see evidence of the oil industry (a few big tankers at port and the oil terminal across the water), but it was easy to forget its presence. Downtown Valdez is quaint enough and offers a fairly good selection of groceries. We strolled down by the small boat harbor one evening and enjoyed seeing the enormous fish people rolled around in wheelbarrows. Commercial and sport-fishing is a staple of Valdez life, and we can see why after getting a glimpse of what they pull out of the water! Nic tried out the free community shooting range, and I went for a great bike ride along a scenic paved path by the water. We printed a document at the local library and sent off some important mail. We stayed for three nights in our quiet enough campground and enjoyed the chance to relax. We took full advantage of scalding showers each night.

Exploring Valdez

Clouds hovering over Prince William Sound

We left Valdez earlier today and are on our way towards Anchorage. It will feel very strange to be in a town of 300,000, but we’re looking forward to the amenities in the area. We’re overdue for another oil change (after only a month!) and could use some reasonably priced provisioning. Let’s hope the mosquitoes aren’t too bad.

My beautiful bike ride in Valdez.

Since sending Hannah home, we have driven and driven and DRIVEN! Nic drove us all the way through Canada, and I am now writing from Valdez, AK. (Map Banff, Alberta, to Valdez, AK, to see approximately how far we’ve traveled – it’s shocking!) We are so grateful for our thousands of miles of safe and relatively uneventful travels. And we are grateful to be back in the good old USA where our cell phones work.

The Columbia Icefield from the Wilcox Pass hike. You can just barely see the parking lot where we camped in the right center area of the picture. The Athabasca Glacier is just to the right of the middle of the picture.

After dropping Hannah off in Banff, we had the opportunity to drive the scenic route to Jasper a third time – what a treat! There are few four-hour drives I would like to do three times in a row in short order, but the chance to stare up at those mountains again was far more of a blessing than a chore. The rain took a break and gave us a chance to hike Wilcox Pass, located just above the Icefields Centre where we had previously camped with Hannah. Our climb gave us expansive views of the Athabasca Glacier. On our way down, we watched a small series of avalanches on the glacier.

Not a bad view!

Our northbound driving began in earnest the following morning. We still drive slowly and rarely travel more than 300 miles a day, but with some diligence, we can really cover some ground. A typical driving day will start whenever we wake up. We have only had to set an alarm a handful of times in the last four months, so we may start the day at 7:30am or at 9:45am. We take a leisurely hour to eat breakfast and button up for travel. We drive until it’s time for a lunch break, and we try to find a scenic lunch stop if we can. We will drive another few hours in the afternoon, possibly stopping for groceries or some sightseeing. We stop for gas at least daily when we drive. The cost of gas for the trip from Banff to the Alaska border was equivalent to a mortgage payment, so you know we’re making frequent fuel stops! Sometimes we impulsively decide to keep driving until later in the evening if there is a free campsite in range. We have found a lot of freedom in having no definite plans, and it has been surprisingly easy to make decisions together. And what are we doing to fill the many hours of drive time? While Nic pays attention to the road and watches for wildlife, I alternate between a few activities: entertaining dogs, reading aloud (working through Looking for Alaska by Peter Jenkins now – such a good read), checking our super helpful mile-by-mile road guide for area info, crocheting, planning, using an app to find campsites. We can play music or the radio now after upgrading our stereo in California, but we don’t typically drive to a soundtrack. Even though Nic is manning the steering wheel, driving has definitely been a team effort. After four months on the road, I would give our teamwork an A-. I still occasionally do a bad job giving directions, and what I say doesn’t always make it from Nic’s ears to his brain. But I’d say we’re doing pretty well.

There is no real way to describe what we experienced on our drive through Canada. You can’t really understand it without having done the drive yourself. We covered miles and miles (or kilometers and kilometers) of pavement, typically on narrow two-lane roads. The roads were better than expected, although we don’t think the Canadians have very intuitive road signs. We drove through farmland, ranchland, dense forests, mountains. We crossed innumerable streams, creeks, and powerful rivers. Many times, we drove half an hour before seeing another vehicle. The distance between towns on these rural highways could easily be 100 miles, and the towns may be too sparsely populated to have anything more than a gas station offering a small grocery selection. We saw elk, moose, and deer, and our bear count as of today is 25. We heard the haunting call of loons at silently rippling inland lakes, the otherworldly sounds of elk in the middle of the night. We became very well-acquainted with the endless welcoming committees of mosquitoes at each campsite. We became thankful for the constant drizzle when we realized it kept these blood-sucking creatures at bay. We watched as our hours of daylight quickly increased to border on the ridiculous. As we neared the longest day of the year, we never really saw complete darkness, only a dim few hours of twilight. This part of the country didn’t immediately assail us with its beauty, as did Banff and Jasper. Rather, the many miles of natural splendor gradually built and built to a quiet and submissive type of beauty that’s hard to describe. We barely took out the camera on our trip north; capturing the whole thing on video and somehow magically condensing it to an hour would be a more effective way to share our surroundings. Truly, though, you can’t understand it until you’ve driven it.

Salmon Glacier

We took a unique detour to Stewart, BC, partway through our drive. We had been told by sea-going friends that the area made for a fun excursion. If you map it, you’ll see that tiny Stewart sits right across the international border from Hyder, AK, an even tinier town in southeastern Alaska (the part of the state that goes far south and hugs Canada). Both towns sit at the head of the Portland Canal, a long canal snaking inland from the ocean (why our sea-going friends knew about the area). The drive to Stewart took us through the coastal mountains, covered in dense foliage and cascading waterfalls, dramatically rising straight up into the clouds to hide their glacial coverings. Not wanting too much hassle at the border, we visited Hyder, AK, on our dirt bikes. The US doesn’t care one bit about this border crossing, probably because there is only one road in Hyder, and you can’t go too far on it before being in mountainous territory that would be near impossible to cross. We enjoyed being back on US soil for a brief time. I never thought a sign in miles per hour could be so heartwarming. We stopped at the tiny US Post Office to mail a few letters, and we were surprised to be greeted by a thick Wisconsin accent. The clerk was originally from Neenah, WI, of all places! As the weather deteriorated quickly towards its normal drizzle, we took the one road through Hyder into the mountains and toward Salmon Glacier, the fifth largest glacier in Canada. Frigid and wet, we snapped a few pictures of the enormous icy expanse, tried not to slip down the rocks by the viewpoint, and made our way carefully and quickly back down the narrow snow-rimmed dirt road. The Canadians do make you stop at the border on the way back to Stewart, but we proceeded through very quickly without firearms, food, or dogs.

The surface of Salmon Glacier.

A few days later, we made it to the Alaska Highway and started seeing distances to Alaskan cities on road signs. The Alaska Highway is known for its rougher parts: gravel breaks, frost heaves, and potholes. Between the stretches of good pavement, we experienced plenty of those rough parts. Caused by building a road over permafrost tundra that expands and contracts with the fluctuating air temps, frost heaves are a major nuisance. We had heard about them before doing the drive and pictured pavement that moved up and down gently enough to make for a little bit of a rollercoaster feeling. Some frost heaves are gentle, but many are abrupt enough to cause us to catch a little bit of air, even when we slow down considerably. So in an RV like ours, you end up driving 55 in the best of conditions until you’re going too fast when you hit a frost heave. You’re grateful you didn’t do permanent damage to your spinal column or some piece of vehicle, but now you’re paranoid, so you drive the next hour at 40, slowing to 25-30 for many of the rough patches. It makes for bad gas mileage and slow going, and we can’t say it was particularly fun. The Alaska Highway has few signs, but a rather high percentage of them advertise tire or windshield repair or towing services. I wonder why. Aside from our now-delicate nerves, our only other damage sustained so far was a small chip in our windshield from a speedy passing semi kicking up gravel and a cabinet door that was knocked off its hinges by the turbulence. We consider ourselves extremely fortunate, especially after passing by several vehicles with blown engines and an RV that sustained considerable damage to its side after someone crossed the centerline. One wrong move on this road, and our vacation could be over.

We took a welcome provisioning day in the bustling town of Whitehorse, Yukon. About 27,000 of Yukon’s 36,000 inhabitants live in Whitehorse, so it felt like a metropolis after the previous few days. We tried to be grateful for the feeble wifi we could get to make Father’s Day phone calls, although we were growing more and more impatient for the day we’d be able to use our phones normally. We visited another Real Canadian Superstore, the same store where we had bought our first Canadian groceries. I wrote a few posts back about how much we loved their version of skyr (best yogurt ever). When you’re on a long road trip and free to indulge in all sorts of craziness, you may think to buy a cheap cooler and purchase a few extra containers of skyr. We bought 16. Yep, that’s right. I won’t share how much of the 17.6 pounds of skyr we have consumed in the last five days.

Priorities.

We celebrated our 8^th anniversary on June 19 by crossing the border back into the wonderful United States of America. The customs official came out of the building to love up on Luna and bring us a handful of organic dog treats from Ohio. She didn’t ask to see our firearms and let us into the country with green peppers, only on the condition that we were extremely careful with the seeds and stems. We wondered later what that meant – should we save them all in a baggy and bring them back to her? Handle them very delicately? Count them precisely? Rock them gently to sleep singing sweet lullabies? I don’t know why Alaska cares if we bring in a few green peppers; they can’t possibly grow them up here. With her green light and warm, “Welcome to Alaska!” we sped off into our very own country. I’m just kidding – no speeding here. We drove very carefully and deliberately over the numerous road hazards the Alaska Highway throws at drivers. We’re glad to be in the USA!

Looking back at Canada from our first campsite in Alaska.

We rolled into Jasper on a rainy afternoon and tackled the frustrating task of buying groceries. After finding most of what we needed in two poorly organized and expensive stores, we scurried around downtown from store to store, dodging the drizzle. We were surprised to find an awesome natural foods store with a big bulk selection. We don’t have the space to carry a full bag of flour or sugar, and a bulk section is about the only place I can purchase a cup or two of baking supplies at a time.

Medicine Lake

As we were about to head back to the campground for dinner, the weather improved, so we hiked the Valley of the Five Lakes. Luna got some much-needed time off leash, and she didn’t even make any new bear friends. The hike brought us to four beautiful turquoise lakes and one ugly shallow pond. Luna swam in all four of the pretty lakes. She will take a dip regardless of the air or water temperature, and it’s a pleasure to watch her gracefully move through the water.

Drive to Maligne Lake.

We woke to rain the next morning, again, so we took our home on the road to do some climate-controlled sightseeing. As we gained elevation on our drive to Maligne Lake, we drove into a wintry wonderland of fresh powder. Several inches of pristine snow coated each evergreen tree and rocky peak. And what can compare to the beauty and purity of a fresh, white June snowfall, when you know it will be summer again soon? As we slipped and slopped through several inches of wet snow on the Maligne Lake shore, Nic and I were reminded of our Thanksgiving hikes in Boulder Junction, WI…or of Narnia.

Asian tourists regularly photograph Homer and Luna. This time they were catching them on the dashboard (Homer) and in the driver’s seat (Luna)!

A little chilly for canoes…

Snowy walk along Maligne Lake.

We drove on to Miette Hot Springs, where we soaked in very crowded and not very hot pools. Really delicious pizza topped off the day spectacularly.

Maligne Canyon

So lush and green here!

We drove from Jasper to Banff the next day, checking out the views again on what has to be one of the world’s most spectacular stretches of pavement. We were sad to say goodbye to Hannah the next morning. Nic’s comment when we dropped her off was, “She is a sweet, sweet girl.” And sweet describes her perfectly. She traveled many miles to spend a week with us, and we were so glad to share a bit of our big road trip with her!

We have wanted to visit Lake Louise for years. We dreamed of honeymooning in the area, but we couldn’t afford anything more than our basically free (and really wonderful) Door County honeymoon. I was a little concerned that my expectations would blunt the beauty of Lake Louise, that it couldn’t possibly live up to everything I wanted it to be.

Baby Stoker

Finally, we have a photographer with us to capture a picture of both of us!

Can you find the little avalanche?

We arrived at Lake Louise after getting our tire work done, so we happily rolled into town late in the afternoon, feeling so thankful to have six dependable, air-filled tires get us there safely. We strolled through the crowds to the edge of the lake and couldn’t help but stop and gape. I doubt anyone walks up to the edge of this lake and continues on his way without trying to take in all the beauty. Lake Louise is another turquoise gem, encircled with a fancy hotel, forested hills, and glacier-covered mountain slopes. Bright red canoes glide through the milky water smoothly as their paddlers squeal with delight at the setting. Warm early summer sunlight makes avalanches cascade down the sheer mountain face across the lake, silent in their distance from most people. The setting is truly idyllic.

Lake Louise’s fancy hotel. In the background, you can see the area we rode the chairlift!

We hiked for a few miles along the gentle path snaking along half the shore. According to my guidebook, this trail is the busiest in the Canadian Rockies. We had wanted to do a bigger hike into the mountains to see more glaciers and a remote teahouse, but the trail was closed due to numerous avalanche warnings (as was true of many trails in the area during early June). After our hike, in the bright afternoon sunlight, we sat on a bench to contemplate the scene. For at least half an hour we watched all sorts of people stroll by us, listening to their many languages. I didn’t expect to enjoy this beautiful mountain scene so much when accompanied by crowds, but when I look back on the week, that peaceful afternoon of people-watching and gorgeous nature-watching was one of my highlights.

Hannah and Nic drove down to our campground in the RV, and Luna and I took the scenic trail route back to burn off some energy. Many highly-inhabited areas of Banff National Park are carefully protected against bears, or, carefully set up to protect the bears from humans. The Canadian verbiage makes it difficult to know exactly who needs protecting more. In Lake Louise, the tent campground (adjacent to our RV campground) is surrounded by an electric fence. Areas where pedestrians must cross through the fence are marked by Texas gates, electrified gates with handles that are safe to touch. Luna and I had to pass through two Texas gates on our run, and it was a little nerve-wracking to hold her at a distance from the door while maneuvering the handle open and then closed once we had passed through.

Royal Dancer…my version of a cheesy selfie that I can’t take myself.

Moraine Lake

Moraine Lake

We continued exploring at Moraine Lake the next morning. Once again, upon approaching the lake’s bright turquoise waters, this time rimmed with some remaining ice, we had no choice but to stop and stare. Just a short distance from Lake Louise, this lake is a quiet contrast to its bustling big sister. We climbed a huge pile of rocks to get a better view, and my pictures speak for themselves.

Moraine Lake

With daily views of grizzlies promised, we rode the Lake Louise chairlift partway up their huge ski area. We didn’t see any grizzlies, even after passing through another Texas gate to do a short hike. We watched rain showers move up the valley towards us and were pretty soaked on the ride down. With views of Lake Louise and its backdrop of mountains, no one complained about the chilly rain.

Watching the rain approach.

Lake Louise views from the chairlift.

We left Lake Louise and headed up the Icefields Parkway, a scenic road leading through the mountains to Jasper National Park and the town of Jasper. Even with low clouds and rain, we stared at our surroundings in awe. The clouds gave the mountains a mysterious air, their lofty peaks rising to unknown heights.

Look at that glacial water flowing into Peyto Lake!

Peyto Lake – the most turquoise of turquoises.

We broke up the drive with a short hike to Peyto Lake, perhaps the most turquoise of turquoises. Nic particularly loved Peyto Lake, and he thinks it’s the most intensely colored lake he has ever seen. A few kilometers down the road, the Icefields Parkway deposited us in front of the Columbia Icefield, a huge expanse of glaciers. We arrived in a light drizzle that quickly turned to a heavy rain right when we decided to take the short hike to the toe of Athabasca Glacier. We turned back to our warm and cozy RV and settled in for the evening. The bustling Icefields Centre allows RVs to camp in their huge parking lots for free, so we made ourselves a hot dinner, enhanced Hannah’s classic movies education with Dirty Harry, practiced our crocheting, and enjoyed our rainy glacier views. Hannah mostly experienced a more civilized version of camping than is typical for us with nightly access to real hot showers and nice bathrooms. Our parking lot night, albeit not completely “in the wild,” was a great example of more typical accommodations. The rain subsided a bit in the morning, allowing us a chilly and dryish hike to the glacier. We continued our drive north towards Jasper, stopping to see a few powerful waterfalls on the way.

Hood trouble in front of the Athabasca Glacier.

Spectacular views of Athabasca Glacier from our parking spot at the Icefields Centre.

Frozen Bow Lake.

Rivers everywhere!

Waterfall stop

I’ve gotten two weeks behind in my blogging – yikes! We spent a busy week with my little sister Hannah touring Banff and Jasper National Parks, so I of course had no time to write then. Hannah taught me how to crochet, and I’m already busy with a big project. How am I going to blog when my hands are busy making loops of beauty? Then there were the thousands of miles we have driven in the last week to make it to Alaska. (Yay, we’re back in the US again as I’m writing!) And of course the lack of cell service and thus connectivity to the rest of our world does nothing to inspire telling you the story of what we’ve been up to.

I will start by writing about our week with Hannah. Because of the huge number of pictures I have and how much I have to share about Canada’s beauty, I’ll break the week up into a few manageable chunks. So here’s Banff…

Hannah had smooth and speedy travels all the way from Orlando, FL, to Calgary, Alberta. A shuttle ferried her through the mountains and into our waiting arms just a mile away from our campground in Banff. We haven’t done an airport pick-up yet in the RV and didn’t particularly relish the idea of trying one. It might have made for a good story, but no thanks…

Yay, Hannah has arrived!

We had a special evening together enjoying pizza by the Bow River (subpar pizza, but hey – it’s Banff). After dinner, we wandered around one of the most beautiful hotels we’ve ever seen: Banff Springs Hotel. In the parking lot for this classy joint, Nic somehow successfully maneuvered us through the tightest spot we should never have driven through. With inches to spare, we squeezed our fat self through a space most likely intended for horse-drawn carriages. We finished off the evening soaking at the Banff Upper Hot Springs. Aside from the soothing effects of a hot springs visit, any camper will enjoy the chance for a free hot shower after soaking. And timing a hot springs visit in the evening means you’re warm, calm, clean, and ready for some good sleep.

Banff Springs Hotel

I don’t know how he drove us through this…or why???!!!

We spent the next morning shopping in downtown Banff. I have been frustrated each time I shopped for groceries in Canada. Not only is everything so expensive, but I can never find a few necessary items. And instead of bending to what the stores in Canada offer, I stubbornly go in with my list and expect to make meals on my menu. A few of the adjustments in Banff turned out well, like ground lamb instead of ground turkey in my unstuffed zucchini recipe and fresh mint for making hot tea with Hannah.

Lake Minnewanka

We spent our sunny afternoon at Lake Minnewanka’s turquoise waters. I must apologize in advance for the overuse of “turquoise waters” in the next few posts. The lakes in this part of the country were nearly all some striking hue of turquoise, the kind of color that can’t be believed until seen in person. Even on a cloudy, dark day, these lakes shine like proud little jewels. Luna insisted on swimming in the very cold glacial run-off of Lake Minnewanka, and we watched as a few other crazy tourists jumped in too.

Lake Minnewanka

Traffic jam, Banff-style

We drove a bit north of Banff that evening to our campsite at Johnston Canyon. Banff’s parks have strict generator use rules; we had to be done making noise with ours at 7pm. We never eat dinner before that time, so it was a huge rush to hike to a few waterfalls before our generator-use window closed for the night. We are unaccustomed to bending to the rules of campgrounds, but we could only stay in official campgrounds during our time in national parks.

While I was making dinner, Nic discovered our next stressor: a totally flat tire. We had gotten two tires replaced in northern Idaho and had been in a huge rush to leave the tire shop after they made us wait several hours longer than promised. That shop did an unacceptable (and totally dangerous) job of putting air in our tires and reconnecting the tire valve stems on our back wheels. Because we have dual wheels in the back, the inside tire has a special tire valve stem extender, making it possible to easily adjust the air from the outside of the RV. Our friends in Idaho didn’t sufficiently tighten our valve stem extenders. After driving about a hundred miles, the loose extender wobbled its way out of place, got pinched between the tire and asphalt, and ripped the middle of the stem out. Result: flat tire. We thought we heard a pop while we were driving to Banff, but we couldn’t figure out what was wrong and just assumed something heavy had shifted in our cabinets. The outer tire of the pair continued to support us until Nic noticed the issue several days later. A blow-out on the rear left side of the vehicle would have had huge consequences to our sewage system and dirt bike towing system. Fortunately, God protected us from that catastrophe. We spent a stressful hour strategizing on how and where to get the tire fixed in short order. Hannah was a champ during all this stress, rolling with the punches like a seasoned RV traveler.

The dreaded tire issue. Nic says this image is very descriptive of our issue – I see random metal.

We backtracked less than an hour the next morning to Canmore, where a tire shop fixed us up in less than two hours! A miracle! The tire shop in Idaho will reimburse us for our repair. So we finished the whole fiasco out only the charges for a few international phone calls, some data use, a few gallons of gas, and some of our precious time. Hannah taught me how to crochet while we waited in Canmore, so I consider that time very well-spent.

We had quite a few different tasks to accomplish between Spokane, WA, and Banff National Park, where we are now. In Spokane, we had a very productive day of errands. Within a few hours, we used a dump station and filled our water tank, dropped off Nic’s bike for some service, hit two auto parts stores, filled up on gas and ice, picked up a few groceries, got cash at an ATM, topped off our propane tank (so much cheaper than we guessed!), and got some much-needed Starbucks liquid heaven. After such heat in southeastern WA, we were just glad to have the AC turned on while we drove from place to place.

We renewed our love for camping in casino parking lots in Spokane. Northern Quest Casino’s parking lot was huge, and even though we placed ourselves on the outside perimeter, we still got free and decent wifi! This casino didn’t require us to gamble to stay. Their parking lot provided Nic a clean and level spot to work on the generator. He changed the fuel pump successfully, but he was stumped when the generator powered up just fine but did not send electricity to the rest of the RV. He quickly figured out that he had removed a small metal piece that did the magic of changing generator power into RV power. It took some fiddling to get that piece into the right place, but in typical genius form, he figured it out. Our generator is at last running smooth as butter. We haven’t had any issues in the five days since he whipped it into shape, so we shouldn’t have to worry about it again!

We filled our second day in Spokane with a few more errands and some fun – a routine doctor’s appointment, an awesome swim session at a gorgeous 50-meter outdoor pool for me (haven’t been in that kind of heaven since my days at UF), lunch at Pita Pit (our favorite take-out), a quick stop at Trader Joe’s, and picking up Nic’s bike. We had another great parking lot experience that night at Cabela’s in Post Falls, ID.

Once we got to the border of Idaho, we were retracing old steps. We were in this part of Idaho two years ago when we did some early reconnaissance of the area. We drove from Wisconsin then to explore northwestern Montana and northern Idaho, hoping to find a place we could see ourselves moving to. On that trip, we really enjoyed our time in Sandpoint, ID, a small town on beautiful Lake Pend Oreille. This time around, we camped at the same quiet campground on the lake and enjoyed the same beautiful views we had loved so much two years ago. With the thunderstorms and downpour we got this trip, we were happy to be in the comfort of our RV instead of a tent like last time. While in Sandpoint, we had two tires replaced and our alignment fixed up. We are happy with the result, but we had to wait four hours longer than the shop initially promised – so annoying! The shop also damaged my rear bicycle tire rim, giving me some extra wobble when I ride. At least we found another Pita Pit for lunch.

Beautiful Lake Pend Oreille in Sandpoint, ID

Our border crossing into Canada that evening was so much easier than expected. The drive through northern Idaho to the border lulls you into a peaceful trance, with such verdant green valleys appearing between the mountains. You show up at the border slightly dazed from the gorgeous scenery. I’d put money on the fact that the customs official in Eastport, ID, have much more peaceful interactions than at many other border checkpoints due to the soothing effect of the landscape. We made a quick stop at US Customs first to register our firearms with them. It will be easier to come back into the US after doing that. We expected the Canadian officials to have questions for us about firearms, food, and the dogs and their food. We were fully prepared to stand around while someone inspected every inch of the RV. We did have to park and go inside the building to complete paperwork related to Nic’s firearms, but the border officials did not inspect anything. We didn’t have to show our dog’s vaccine records or how much dog food we had brought (had to be no more than 20 kg, which is not much for two dogs). We didn’t have to go over a detailed list of our food inventory. And they didn’t even take a look at our firearms. They confirmed to us just how boring we are – not even worth a second glance.

Canadian rest stop lunch break overlooking Columbia Lake

The beauty of northern Idaho continued in Canada as we drove towards Cranbrook. We drove past lush forests and rushing rivers, the mountains slowly growing in magnitude and height. Just before driving into Cranbrook, the Canadian Rockies came into view, looking too magnificent to be real. They tower over their surroundings, still and silent and captivating. We have seen some beautiful scenery so far on this trip, but this is what we have been waiting for: the rocky spine of our continent.

We spent our first night in Canada parking-lot style in front of Home Hardware Building Centre. The next morning, we tackled our first big grocery trip in the nearby Real Canadian Superstore. Error numero uno: no dollar coin to get a shopping cart. We had let our food supply get low to make the border crossing easier, so we had quite a few items to lug around in our baskets. We went from aisle to aisle converting: from grams to pounds, from US dollars to Canadian dollars (a very favorable exchange for us right now), from familiar staples to sometimes lame substitutes (tortillas, for example). Most items were more expensive for us in Cranbrook, especially meat. Only Laughing Cow cheese and California raspberries were an amazing bargain. Our favorite find was Icelandic skyr (like Greek yogurt). We could eat pints and pints of the stuff, and the store’s generic brand of skyr was so delicious. We wish we had bought more, and we already found the next Real Canadian Superstores on our route just for the skyr. We of course forgot to bring our reusable grocery bags with us, so the awkwardness of carrying a huge load of groceries with four hands followed us into the parking lot. At least our credit card is working in Canada; we also managed to withdraw some Canadian cash from an ATM. We’re in business now.

We are surrounded by mountains.

Surrounded by mountains, we drove north to Kootenay National Park. We spent a scenic day driving through the park with a few beautiful stops. We love hot springs, and we visited the ritziest one we’ve ever frequented in Radium Hot Springs. We typically try to find off-the-beaten path and very natural hot springs, but this experience was closer to a sleek European resort. We soaked in the mineral-laden water (the perfect warm bath temperature) as we took in the views of Sinclair Canyon. We have a few more opportunities to visit hot springs in British Columbia, and we will do everything we can to get to more of them!

Hiking Marble Canyon in Kootenay National Park – see me on the bridge?

We are in Banff National Park now, and we are thrilled to be collecting my little sister Hannah later today. We will adventure together for the next week. We will of course be taking pictures of our beautiful surroundings, but I can’t promise much – views this big just can’t be captured on camera.

This is a long one. We’ve had a random collection of mishaps the last few days, so this will give you a good idea of what happens when you’re on the road long-term…or at least what happens to us!

When I last wrote, we were enjoying dinner and ocean views at a public beach outside of Lincoln City, OR. We lingered that evening before heading to the casino parking lot where we planned to stay. There’s not much to do when you’re surrounded by that much asphalt, so we soaked up every bit of the view first. Upon reaching the casino, we were told that you only get the paperwork to stay after running $40 through their machines – darn! This was to be our third casino stay, and we hadn’t run into required gambling yet. Our nightly average can’t afford $40. We were fortunate to find a reasonable campsite at a nearby county park. We were stuck paying $21, but we were at least happy about real showers and a full water tank. Having arrived so late, though, we couldn’t get the shower code from the host. People must wander through this county park frequently enough to require codes on the shower doors – bummer. Our little shower does the job, but I can say with absolute certainty that we will never again take showers for granted.

Doesn’t it look like Michigan?

Run, Homer!!!

Running down the dune!

We started the next day with a clean slate and eyes wide open to see more of Oregon’s coastal beauty. In tiny Pacific City, we strolled on the beach just south of Cape Kiwanda. We felt like we were in Michigan when we had the chance to do some dune climbing. Homer zoomed up and down the dune faster than you’d think those little legs could run, ears flapping in the ocean breeze. We drove on to Cape Lookout next and hiked a stunning five miles with huge ocean views. We didn’t see any whales, but the turquoise view into eternity was well worth the effort of the miles and muddy paw cleaning afterward.

The view south from Cape Lookout

We stayed that night at one of our more unique campsites in a grassy field behind French Heron Blue Cheese Company. The small cheese factory lets RVs park out back – so nice! We had the barnyard/petting zoo to ourselves that evening, and the dogs were thoroughly riled up and entertained by the peacocks, chickens, roosters, goats, and a flock of some other kind of birds that looked like very fat chickens with very tiny heads. Just his size and speed, Homer particularly enjoyed chasing those chicken-like birds!

Northern coastal Oregon land produces some very delicious grass that makes for happy cows (not high cows), and dairy farms abound. We stopped at the famous and fabulous Tillamook Cheese Factory. What would you do first thing in the morning aside from sample a bunch of cheese and get a whopping Mocha Almond Fudge and Blueberry chocolate-dipped waffle cone for second breakfast? Tillamook is known for producing tons of good cheese and very tasty ice cream, and we couldn’t resist.

Second breakfast at Tillamook Cheese Factory

We spent our last afternoon on the coast hiking through a lush forest to charming Short Sand Beach (very popular with surfers). On our way through Cannon Beach, we stopped one last time for fish and chips. Healthy eating was obviously a huge concern of ours that day.

Short Sand Beach – hazy with salty air

Short Sand Beach

Some great local flavor – do they teach spelling here?

We knew we would hit heavy traffic heading into Portland right at the start of Memorial Day weekend. Our route took us through downtown Portland, too narrow and populated to comfortably drive the RV but interesting to see nonetheless. We left Portland’s Subaru-infested traffic and headed east into the scenic Columbia River Gorge. I had found a number of options for camping in the area, but we still anticipated having some trouble with no reservations on Memorial Day weekend. Sure enough, we struck out three times – twice because of full campgrounds and once because the gravel road to a free spot looked nearly vertical and quite terrifying. We drove into some nearby national forest land and were dismayed to find miles of even the least desirable of pull-offs to be packed with other campers. We finally found a spot wide enough and level enough for us and settled in after a long day of driving. And nothing beats free.

Worn out from our search for campsites, we decided to stay two nights in the forest. We hiked to nearby Panther Creek Falls, took Luna for a run, did yoga outside (woods without bugs – amazing!), explored on dirt bike, and spent some much-needed time reading about Alaska and planning our route north.

Our holiday weekend camping woes continued on Sunday when we again struck out three times in the vicinity of Kennewick, WA. Few things are quite as annoying as people staring at you as you drive through a full campground. A very intense heat compounded our frustrations. The four of us start to wilt at 80 degrees, so 92 was an oven. And of course our engine joined in the drama, threatening to overheat. We really wanted to take that reading break on the side of the highway in the heat while the engine cooled, but it could’ve waited for another day. We continued our campsite search alternating between open windows and our wimpiest AC setting, trying everything to coax the RV into good behavior. She just doesn’t like the heat either. We finally found a free and empty spot at Ringold Public Boat Launch, right along the Columbia River. We were disappointed to see we couldn’t swim in the river due to an invasive species of snails – yuck! How were we going to stay cool without swimming? The mosquitoes swarmed at dusk, but the temps also dropped mercifully, accompanied by a surprisingly cool breeze.

Our challenge yesterday was to stay cool in long, sunny hours of 92 degrees. Morning greeted us at least briefly with moderate temps. We sat in the breeze outside and reviewed the border crossing rules for later this week. We have lots to read about regarding transit of food, dogs, and firearms. After some careful research and a few phone calls to different branches of the Canadian government, I think we’re all set for Canada.

Our reptilian visitor at the boat launch – ick!

We have finally started using our awning, and it helps keep at least one side of the RV shady. We opened and shut windows and shades, adjusting every few hours to combat the sun the best we could. The dogs had a very hot and sleepy day, but we felt like they were just uncomfortable, not in any danger. We sprayed the dogs down a bit from time to time to help them cool down. Once the sun passed overhead, Nic used a small slice of shade to work on our generator. We thought our issues were fixed, but that thing just doesn’t want to run reliably for us. Cleaning the carburetor didn’t do the trick, so he’s going to replace the fuel pump next. The afternoon hours crawled by as the sweat beaded and ran. I began to want to fast-forward through the rest of the day. Thinking I could take up a good chunk of time (and feel some air movement), I set off on my bicycle to explore the farmland surrounding us. I have been pretty fortunate with flat tires in my fifteen years of bicycling, but I got a doozy of a flat 6.6 miles from the RV. It was a long, hot walk back, but at least I passed a huge chunk of time in my efforts! Once again, temps cooled as the sun set. We were at least able to sleep in the cooler weather.

We’re in the Spokane area for a few days to take care of some important errands. We accomplished an amazing number of things today: sewage dump and water fill, drop-off of Nic’s dirt bike, propane tank fill, gas and ice, groceries, a bank stop, Starbucks, and two auto parts stores for that generator fuel pump. We have a few more items to take care of in the next few days. We plan on crossing the border into Canada on Friday. We are especially excited about meeting my little sister Hannah in Banff. She’s crazy enough to spend a week with us in our RV, and together we’ll explore Banff, Jasper, and all the jaw-dropping beauty in between!

Oregon has treated us so, so well these last few days of wandering up the coast.

The rocky coast of southern Oregon

We spent our first scenic day on the coast driving past southern Oregon’s spectacular offshore rock formations, towering darkly above the salty blue water of the Pacific. We hiked from the top of Cape Sebastian down to the water’s edge and explored a rocky promontory with a few tide pools. After wandering a bit along the shore, and only because of Nic’s sharp and patient eyes, we spied five huge whales traveling north up the coast. Surfacing several times in a short period before diving for up to five minutes, whales are easy enough to follow if you’re willing to wait. We followed a mom and baby for about twenty minutes, scuttling quickly down the path as they glided through the choppy surf. It’s a little late in the season for the whales to be moving north, but some mamas and their babies take more time to reach colder waters. We learned today too that a small population of gray whales have summer homes just off the Oregon coast. On that hike, we also saw two small snakes, three seals, and many sea anemone and sea urchins. We’ve been expecting to see lots of wildlife on this trip but really haven’t all in one shot before Cape Sebastian. That evening we watched the sun slowly drop below the horizon as we ate our favorite new beach meal: scrambled egg burritos – so delicious when wrapped in foil and consumed on a windy beach.

Luna’s stomach issues the next morning were far less troublesome than the previous episode I wrote about, since we got her out of the RV (numerous times) before she delivered the projectiles. I couldn’t say what she ate that made her feel sick, but she was gobbling to an embarrassing degree when I walked her on the beach the night before.

I wouldn’t consider us to be “foodies,” since we barely ever eat out and are pretty easily impressed with plenty of simple food. Strolling around Bandon, OR, though, we easily took on some foodie traits. It’s hard to choose a favorite food stop of the day; all three stops merit mention. Face Rock Creamery offered us about twenty samples of delicious craft cheeses. Nic liked the Extra Aged Cheddar, and my favorite was the Peppercorn Harvest. We walked out of that place amazed that we got to try so many of their cheeses. Just a few short blocks away, we had the same experience at Cranberry Sweets & More with piles upon piles of samples of fruit pates, chocolate, truffles, and cookies. Why did we make this stop before lunch? We strolled down to the harbor for some super fresh fish and chips, munching our fried treats and licking our greasy fingers while we sat on a bench looking out at the Coquille River dancing with the Pacific. The Oregon coastal towns are known for amazing seafood, and the Pacific cod was heavenly. Later that evening, we watched another colorful Pacific sunset on Bastendorff Beach just a few hundred yards away from our free campsite.

Face Rock Creamery cheeses – yum!

Sunset at Bastendorff Beach

Looking back from Bastendorff Beach to our free campsite. You can see the RV on the right side of the picture.

A fishing boat bringing their haul back to Charleston.

Tuesday’s activities were more mundane to accompany the foggy and windy weather: a grocery run, some drive time, a professional oil change for our generator done by Nic, and an oil change for the RV done by a very speedy Valvoline shop. I found a municipal pool and so happily swam my little heart out (with a free hot shower afterwards too!). For the second time on this trip, we camped in a casino parking lot. We get really excited to even have a garbage can within walking distance of wherever the RV is parked, so we are super easy to please. A very nice restroom in the casino makes us smile too. The other campers were quiet, and it’s always interesting to see the other rigs (and their owners).

Heceta Head Lighthouse

Oregon has kept the amazing sights coming today. After driving a few scenic miles of the coast north of Florence, eyes wide at the beauty of Heceta Head Lighthouse, we parked at Cape Perpetua. We took the dogs on our hike up to the top of the Cape. Homer was determined to drag Nic up and down all 800 feet of steep hill. Although our guidebook makes some sarcastic comments about locations like this providing great views on a clear day, which is never, we’ve had our fair share of sunshine and clear skies on the coast. We saw several more whales from our lofty viewpoint, one of which seemed to be hanging out just offshore of the Cape. As we hiked back down and then towards the beach to see a few more sights, we kept seeing the same whale surface repeatedly. Who could blame him for picking such beautiful surroundings? We found a delicious dive joint for fish and chips in Newport, and I tried some salmon candy (smoked salmon in a sweet glaze). After seeing yet another beautiful lighthouse and exploring even more colorful tide pools, we are ready for hot showers and bed. Our pace through Oregon has felt fairly leisurely, but we are overwhelmed at times by the nonstop beauty. And all that brisk sea air saps the energy too, the wind constantly pulling apart your ponytail and blowing salt on your sunglasses. Give me a chunky knit sweater, hot tea, and a roaring fire, and I’ll be asleep before you know it.

See the two whales? We were 800 feet above them when I took the picture.

View from Cape Perpetua.

Will hike for fish and chips!

Tide pools at Yaquina Head.

Colorful sea life.

We have two full days left on the coast. We will sure miss the fresh seafood, quaint lighthouses, ocean sunsets, and brisk ocean air. We won’t see the Pacific again until several thousand miles from now – in Alaska!

Yaquina Head Lighthouse