At 84604 miles, we gas up the old Datsun truck at Mojave on the Thursday after Christmas in Palmdale. We pass the Rocket Test Site, old trucks of Boron, Early Man Site–entering Death Valley rather late.  It is already dark by the time we come down past Furnace Creek Inn, looking like a storybook all in lights, every campground packed to the rails, so we drive, drive, drive to Wildrose Campground well after 10 PM, maybe 11 PM and very cold.  We set up the tent and hear rain in the night, and SNOW on the hills in the morning.  At 7 or so we make coffee and eggs and Potato Crub, then drive to explore the Charcoal Kilns.  Very sunny and brilliant.

Datsun truck at Charcoal Kilns

Drive to Mesquite Flat campground via Stovepipe Wells store and arrive around noon to grab a site.  At Scottie’s Castle we have excellent burgers, all the better for the shock, and Nalley’s chili.  Insanely windy and cold at Ubehebe Crater.  Spend the night at Mequite Flat.   The ranger comes by to object to our use of some branches left at the campsite: “Animals eat those!”

Rhyolite Nevada, bottle house 12.29.91

After a drive out for breakfast at Beatty, and a visit to Rhyolite Nevada, we take the white-knuckle drive through Titus Canyon, risky considering the weather, but the sky is clear.  There are petroglyphs with strange cobalt blue pigment, and the sky so blue, I crave the color orange.  Survival depends on a certain aquisitivity, a roll of duct tape would be nice.  Collecting rocks, one with the amazing illusion of a fossilized pteranodon.

pterodactyl rock and cactus spine cluster

The desert gets under my skin, into my blood, into my hair and shoes.   I am in love with the way the desert smells after the rain, sage resin and wet dust.  4956 feet at Townes Pass, exit by Death Valley Wagon trail, we stop for scrambled eggs, potatoes, biscuits and gravy, so good.

12/29/91  North on Hiway 395, snow on the desert, so we give up on camping and spring for a motel and hot shower in Bishop.  $65 for snow chains, $44 for a motel room with instant coffee–ouch.  For breakfast, Chicken Fried Steak, mashed potatoes and gravy, green beans with bacon.  In Bishop, search for baling wire or something to get to get the snow chains to fit.  Finally, bungee cords do the trick.

12/30/91at Hot Creek in the snow, then up 395 past Fales Hot Spring, an abandoned gas station with near-boiling water in the creek-a swimming pool with foundation exposed by a flash flood; nowhere to get in.  In Carson City Stevie tries out the slots, but the snow chain debacle took too long, and it’s time to head home. to my Bettycat, who is expecting me tonight.  a day of rest, then back to work for Inventory

Saturday August 10, 1991 Up over the Pass–by way of Dan and Sally’s place in Murpheys–and south on 395 to search for three hours for Buckeye hot spring with a map and vague directions, half a mile up two forks in each direction with no trace of a spring.  Raging currents and fallen trees, and a dead sheep carcass with a face-I broke my camera photographing the riots at People’s Park, so I borrowed Sandra’s Ricoh, which had a little voice that would say “Too Dahk” or “No Firm” in a cute Japanese accent.

Sunday August 11, Buckeye Campground, east of Bridgeport.  There were parts of an old lumber operation all around the area. Seems the spring was DOWN stream, possibly underwater. 

Short stop in Palmdale for beer and tv-bonding and birthday party with Marty, then Venice Beach, and L.A. County Museum, Universal Studios tour with the nieces and nephews.

8/19 Lake Thomas Edison campground, generators running 7 AM to 10 PM.   on a 15? mile hike up the canyon, Beautiful black sand beaches and deep mountain pools with stranded trout, still too smart to bite.  Yellow neck Marmots and a large Hawk overhead.

8/20 Tuesday Mono Creek overflow camp, Big Dipper through the pines.  Rowdy neighbors, singing with a good “Joplinesque” voice.

Bodie shack tiled with flattened cans

Wednesday, Steve’s birthday, visit Bodie and heading home.

Not really a trip, but Steve and Rich went out sailing, we woke up to a hot, windy Sunday morning, and I saw puffs of smoke around 8 AM.

early that morning

I stayed home to prepare because my band had a gig that evening, and I got some great photos from my third-floor windows.  I had my bass and a backpack by the door in case the wind brought the smoke toward my neighborhood.

June 21, 1991, we leave Berkeley in the orange Datsun truck we bought from Lynn, driving up the California coast to camp at Avenue of the Giants.  For dinner, a can of Dinty Moore beef stew, (Steve’s client) Mrs. Giampaolo’s yummy cake, and an excellent Bollini Italian wine  .  .  . and what we later call Skunk bread, after accidentally leaving it out where the critters tear off a few slices.   For breakfast the next morning, canned hash, eggs, and potatoes.  Steve always has a good supply of canned mystery meat.

Saturday June 22 we toured Steve’s beautiful Alma Mater, Humboldt State University, where he had an athletic scholarship from Antelope Valley College.  In Arcata we bought some produce at the farmer’s market.  In Eureka we searched for a battery–$15–for the camera, and once I found it,  determined that any appliance taken camping needs to run on AA batteries.  At the Trees of Mystery I bought a beaded belt- the smallest one they had, it says “Trees of Mystry”.    At the beautiful, totally empty Smith River Gasquet campground (on a Saturday!) we had Filet mignon, steamed spinach, fresh tomatoes and a Gewurtztraminer.

Sunday June 23rd After breakfast of coffee, pancakes and fresh raspberries, we drove up the Oregon Coast to the Mo’s Restaurant in Florence–no clam fritters!  I was so disappointed.  I had the memory that Mo’s clam fritters were the most delectable thing ever eaten on my trip to Oregon–maybe they were.  In Coos Bay we stopped at the Army Surplus store where we bought a tent and a broiler pan.  We had been sleeping in the camper shell.  After our late lunch we weren’t hungry for dinner.  We stopped at Beachside Campground near Yachats.  Crowded, but cozy, and near the beach–$6

Monday after coffee, cake, and raspberries, we drove to Lebanon and had Chicken Fried Steak at the Copper Kitchen.  Then we went to the thrift store where we found a big carving fork and two drinking glasses.  Steve found a wool plaid coat–Outside, he said, “I paid 25  for it  .   .   .   25 cents”.   After a hike and a soak, (wait–what? is there a hot spring here?) we got a six-pack of Miller beer and on to Olallieberry Campground in the Willamette National Forest.  Again, a beautiful campground at the confluence of two mighty rivers, so cheap ($4 for De Luxe site #6) , and completely empty of people .  .  For dinner, spaghetti.

A beautiful empty campground at the confluence of the McKenzie River and another huge stream without a name.

Ok, so let me just say that we began seeking out hot springs soon after we began camping together, collecting books, collecting hot springs.  I remember, in Oregon, Bagby, Breitenbush, Cougar, Terwilliger, Austin, Paulina Lake, Hart Mountain (one of my all-time favorites).  I will be looking into the list to see which one we stopped at here.

Tuesday, over the pass and into the high desert, to Ana Reservoir and Ana cold spring, Fort Rock, and 50 miles outside Portland we hiked up a canyon to Bagby hot springs near Mt. Hood,  Full Moon and on to free but trashed campground at Pringle Falls; broiled chicken, leftover spaghetti and a zinfandel.  Wednesday June 26, Lava Cast Forest and Smith Rock, where I climbed all the way to the top but got scared and couldn’t figure out how to get down.  Bend, Oregon, shopping. Then we went looking for Terwilliger Hot Springs, and Cougar Reservoir.  $2 camping on the Deschutes River, steak, beans, baked potatoes.  Thursday, $9.93 for 7.5 gallons of gas.

Friday June 28 we reached my Mom’s house in Portland.   The next day we went to Larch Mountain with my mom and siblings and niece Becky, Aunt Jean, cousins Trinka, Bruce, and Blaine to scatter Daddy’s ashes.  It was sopping wet, and windy, and no one could get the jar open, until Steve determined that it was sealed with silicone and opened it with a swiss army knife, to my Mom’s relief and gratitude.  Afterward we all went to my sister Kathy’s house for a buffet dinner and more photographs.

orange datsun and 25-cent plaid coat

Steve and I left the next day, June 30, heading out the Columbia River Gorge via Multnomah Lodge for bacon cheeseburgers.  I memorized the heights of mountains (Whitney 14,494) and the Sisters, all above 10,000 ft.  St. Martin’s Springs, segregated tubs and cute cabins, where we camped in the $3 lot.  Monday, Mt. St. Helens for biscuits and gravy at Adams Restaurant, and on to “Skamania County’s Home Valley Park” on the water, where trains ran all night in a ditch by our heads, weird, but cool.   Monday July 1 we pulled in at Crescent Creek on hiway 97 at around 11 PM–$2.  Big trucks ran on the hiway all night.  In the morning we cooked up eggs, cheese, bacon and coffee, and blueberry pancakes–excellent!  I noted Jeffrey Pines and Sugar pines, and collected the giant cones.

Into California, Mt. Lassen, hiking, another night camping, and home, to find my eviction from Emerson Street had been mysteriously cancelled, apparently due to my erudite letter and request for a buy-out.

Blue Moon,  a Tuesday, we drove to Bolinas Lagoon with my dad’s Minolta in hand.  Mom gave  it to me just before Daddy died when I was there last year.  So where are the photographs?  Tide pools, scary plasticky Pink starfish, Mauve and Puce and Pepto-Bismol pink, and limey green anemones.  I picked up several little gray sandstone rocks with holes drilled in them–what does that?  I had about ten of them, Steve said I was “going overboard”.  I think I need at least 10 to make a necklace. We drove up the coast to Occidental, and we were very low on gas and there were no gas stations.  We coasted 1/2 way to Sebastopol after Italian Dinner at Negri’s.  Stevie said let’s come spend the weekend sometime and eat in all the restaurants and stay in the Union Hotel.  Now we know. the gas gauge reads 1/4 when there is 1/2 a tank of gas.

March 31, Glen Ellen, Jack London’s house, a really swell time and a hike in the fresh air.   Then, Glass beach again, four bottles and some little crabs underneath,I picked up polished cobalt blue glass, and lime green glass, Stevie found pottery sherds with words.

April 19, I fly alone to Portland to spend Easter with Mom, and Dick and Vicki

April 28 after a storm, Steve and I drive down to Glass Beach on the Berkeley waterfront to dig bottles out of the newly-exposed bluff that used to be the dump.  Some very cool pieces.

I was sorting photographs, perhaps erroneously posting a 1998 trip as 1990, making notes, crying some, all day last Monday.  I was seeking clarity, throwing out duplicates and duds, searching for images to paint from.  I often did a piece of art for each trip, and took photographs with a painting in mind.

Ultimately, that is the point.  I cleared everything away and went to bed, slept soundly, got up the next morning and found three photographs on the floor.  I got the strong feeling there is a message here, from Steve, or that Stevie part of me that wants me to go on

One Sunday we drove to Pt. Reyes National Seashore and climbed down a frighteningly shear cliff to a narrow beach that was clearly going to be underwater when the tide came in.  Worse, I was sure an imminent earthquake would drop boulders on us.  Steve was surf fishing, and I guess we were stoned out of my minds, because a seal popped its head out of the water and watched us from the surf, and spooked us the way he stared.  Probably just waiting to see if we caught some fish.  Steve told me the story of how years earlier when he lived in Boston he encountered a talking seal that had the brogue of an old sailor–he often had odd stories like this.  Later I heard a similar story, that Seals, and other animals,  can learn to imitate human language if they are raised around people .  Can’t recall if Steve caught anything.