Epic Road Trip - French Glen, Or to Carlin, NV

I woke up early Saturday morning to the sound of animals rustling around our campsite. Looking out, I saw a couple of deer walking by. Unfortunately, I only had my cell phone handy and it doesn't zoom, so the deer look so far away that you can't even what they are. They're deer, people! I promise!

For about an hour, I tried to get some water to boil. Like a real suburbbie girl, I had brought a hot-pot to plug into my portable outlet. Unfortunately, the amps it needed were too low, so my portable outlet would shut off whenever I tried to plug it in. Yay, safety.

I had to resort to heating the water in a pot over a very low flame. By the time Dalby woke up an hour and a half later, the water was barely above body temperature. *Sigh*

We packed up and decided to get going. We had heard of a natural hot springs by Whitehorse Ranch in Fields, Oregon that we really wanted to have time to sit in. Before we could think of rest and relaxation, though, we had some business to attend to...a cache in French Glen. Very nearby was French's Lookout. The terrain was very rocky and I stepped wrong on a boulder, twisting my ankle ever so slightly. I lost my breath for a minute, but continued on through the desert, eventually finding the cache and logging another success.

The drive was so immediately beautiful that it took less than 5 minutes for me to pull off the road and whip out my camera (I'd be called a photo-holic more than once during this trip.) I got some beautiful pictures of plateaus and the unoccupied road. The drive went on like this for miles. So many miles, in fact, that we started to worry. There hadn't been a functional gas station in French Glen, like I was hoping, and my tank was nearing empty. As I fell below a quarter of a tank, there were still no towns for as far as the eye could see. Slightly panicked, we navigated the curvy roads between deserted mountains. Finally, with little more than a gallon of gas left, we arrived in Fields, Oregon where there was a gas station/coffee shop/town store.

While the old fashioned gas pumps did their thing (nearly 15 minutes) Dalby and I went in to the little shop. He got a coffee and I asked about the hot springs. The shop owner/gas attendant/chef pointed us toward Willow Springs, which was about 8 miles away, 26 miles down a gravel road. Let me explain. The spring was only about 8 miles away, but to get there you have to take a skinny gravel road for 26 miles up and around then back down the local hills. Some of these roads really required a 4x4. Fortunately, some fancy navigating got us to the desired location.

I'm not exactly sure what I was expecting, but the hot springs was not it. The words "I thought it would be bigger" formed in my head, but years of conditioning prevented me from saying that phrase out loud. For some reason I was hoping that we'd be the only people there, but that wasn't the case. There were about half a dozen others at the spring, most of them ranch hands from Whitehorse. There was also two veteran type men, sitting in their army tent propping their feet up on the bumpers of their military vehicles. All in all, it wasn't a situation that I would normally want to be in a swimsuit, but I had come all this way to have my first hot springs experience and I wasn't going to ruin it with self-consciousness.

The first thing I noticed was how horrible the water smelled. It was almost as if we had decided to swim in rotten egg. Fortunately, I have pneumonia, so only a little of the stench filtered through. As I slipped in to natures bath tub, I could feel the slimy mud squish between my toes. I tried to imagine that it was some kind of pedicure masque that would make my feet smooth and soft like bunnies, but it was gross - even for bunny mud.

The waters seemed to help my ankle and Mike said they helped his shoulder (which he had dislocated kayaking a couple of days before) too. I was also grateful for being submerged, because I hadn't taken a shower after camping the night before and we were supposed to be in the middle of nowhere again that night. It wasn't until after the soak that I realized that it was probably better to have lived with mild BO than to go to sleep smelling like Mephistopheles.

After getting out of the hot spring, we pitched our mineral soaked clothes in the trunk and hit the open highway, but not before placing a cache on a nearby hill. Unfortunately, the piece of paper that we wrote the coordinates for the cache on was accidentally used as fire-starting material on our last night of the trip, so we have no way of advertising that it's there! Time to get creative.

From there, it was off to camp in Tonkin Springs, Nevada - at least, it was supposed to be. Unfortunately, the time was coming up on 5 pm and we were still more than six hours away. After eating pizza in Winnemucca, we realized that it was about time to find a place to sleep. We drove until almost 11 pm and wound up at a motel in Carlin, NV.

We had some mixed feelings about staying in the motel. On one hand, it was warm and we were able to shower the natural stench of the hot spring off of us. On the other hand, we weren't exactly roughing it, considering that they offered a nice continental breakfast in the morning. In our defense, we *did* have to make our own waffles.

Epic Road Trip - Eugene, Or to French Glen, Or

Morning came too soon. The car was mostly packed, but a last minute sweep of my house reminded me that there were a few things that I should have included. After making sure that my emergency pack was ready to go, I took off to pick up Dalby.

Even though I got to Mike's house before 9:00 am, errands and breakfast kept us from hitting the road until 11:30. Our spirits were high and we were off to a good start. Laughing and joking ensued. In fact, there was so much laughing and joking that we completely missed the exit to the Old Mckenzie Highway where the majority of our intended caches were located. Thrown, we made our way to Sisters to figure out what to do. We decided on a couple of caches in the Bend/Redmond area, along with one containing a coin that I *really* wanted to find.

Dalby's first cache (excluding the one in Beijing) was called Something Shocking. It was hidden below a power line in a pile of rocks. While we were putting our names on the log, a police officer rolled by. Immediately, Dalby started to slow his movements down. He needs to practice acting casual. I assured him that the officer would be familiar with geocaching, but he was still hesitant. The officer rolled his window down and slowed to a stop. Mike told the officer that we were caching, to which the officer responded "I figured. Is that your car parked down the way?" We told him that it was and he wished us well and headed on his way.

Laughing, we put the cache away and headed back to the car. I saw a downed cable on the rock by my feet. "Wow," I said. "I almost stepped on that." "Actually," Dalby corrected, "you stepped on it on the way in, but since you didn't die, I decided not to say anything." This is the kind of relationship we have. He's so special.

We got back in the car and decided we had time to try to find the cache that I had been looking forward to. It has a coin in it that I'd love to bring back to Eugene and we drove dozens of miles out of the way just to locate it. Unfortunately, there was no way to get to it without trespassing. The property was heavily wired and no trespassing signs were posted every 100 feet. We know this, because we trepidatiously ignored the first 2 sets. Bummed, we decided to pack it in. All in all, we had eaten up three hours with that cache and the drive to French Glen was still looming.

Dalby napped for the majority of the remaining four hour drive. We got to Fish Lake (which has no lake, FYI) somewhere around midnight. The stars were so beautiful that Mike requested we leave the cover off of the roof. The weather was clear and crisp, so the risk was small. Unfortunately, it was also cold and windy! All night long, arctic breezes would shake us awake. Yay, Oregon.

Epic Road Trip - Prologue

I needed to get away. Even if everything had been fine before Thursday, March 19th, I would have needed a vacation by that evening. It started out crappy and got worse with every hour.

I might have stayed out a bit too late Wednesday night, especially considering that I had to have my car to Kia at 8:00 in the morning Thursday. There was nothing important wrong with my car (at least I didn't think there was) but my passenger-door lock wasn't behaving. Since my car is still under warranty, I decided to have that fixed before Dalby and I headed out.

In the meantime, I had a routine doctor's appointment and I was going to inquire about the rattling cough that I'd had for a few weeks. The doctor said that my left lung was full of fluid and sent me for blood tests and x-rays. After a few more minutes of waiting, the x-rays were done. I had pneumonia. Lovely.

Walking home, I gave Kia a call to check on my car. It was ready to go, yay! No, not yay. Apparently, I needed new tires. Not only were they worn below the wear-bar, but they were cracked. He told me I'd be okay in town, but if I planned to make any long drives (um, do you consider 2,000 miles long??) then I better replace them first. Sigh.

Alright, off to Les Schwab. They've been great to me, so I decided to buy my tires there. After 4 new tires and a front AND rear alignment (apparently I was off by a few degrees) my car was ready 2 minutes before closing...oh, except that he didn't suggest I drive it very far, because I needed new brakes. What?!? New brakes? Thanks for telling me that right before you close on the day before I leave for a gimungous road trip. He offered to look up other Schwabbies between here and Nevada. I thanked him, but told him I was taking my car to Firestone, if it was still open.

I called Firestone, who said they were going to inspect them first to make sure that LS wasn't feeding me a line of Free Beef. Turns out, they weren't. Not only were the brakes metal to metal, but my rotors were so worn that they were beyond turning. They said that they'd stay open to fix it for me that night and get me on my way. Two hours later, I had my car back, just in time to get to the pharmacy and pick up my antibiotics before they closed. Now, I had a whole 2 hours to get my supplies and load my car before I went to bed. I had to leave for a road trip in the morning!

Epic Road Trip - Do or Die

Today is the most perilous portion of our trip. We're about to head to a location (+39° 59' 30.90", -116° 18' 19.32") that is several miles off the main roads smack-dab in the middle of mining country. Oh, and did I mention it's snowing??

We're leaving our nice warm hotel in Carlin, NV and heading about 40 miles down Hwy 278 before we cut west on local roads (a bizarre combination of Tonkins and Alphas.) It appears, by word of the OO oracle, that we can drive to within 2 miles of the point. It also looks like there are creeks and rivers everywhere. Our fingers are crossed.

In any case, we're packing day bags with emergency gear and water, planning for the worst and hoping for the best. I'll update FB through Twitter when I have cell reception, but if you don't read any updates from me by midnight, we've found trouble.

Reno by midnight, Baby!!!

The Epic Road Trip (Not *that* kind of Epic, Toby!) - Preparation

Tonight, I'm in the preparation stage for my very first Spring Break road trip!!!

One of my biggest features (read: flaws) is being a planner. I tend to over-plan. I'm not going to do that with this trip. What I will do, however, is make sure I'm prepared, then go where the wind and Dalby take me.


Intentions:

In case you don't follow my blog religiously, I'll let you know that I spent a week in Beijing during the month of October. While I was there, I went geocaching and took a picture of myself at N 39° 59.515, E 116° 18.322 with the intention of someday getting a picture at the Western equivalent of those coordinates - which happens to be in a barren and desolate part of Nevada. Well, the opportunity presented itself to get away over Spring Break, so I texted Dalby (who was with me at the cache find in Beijing) and asked if he was in. He responded "Dude, I don't even see myself as having a choice. Let's do this!" With that, we started working on a route.

Preparations:

Neither of us particularly *like* spending hours on our asses, but when you go on a road trip some driving time is inevitable. We tried to break it up into small enough chunks that we'll have time to get to our daily destinations and still have time to play. We've agreed on a route and now we're working on the whole 'accommodations' thing. I've got a tent (and a car) but when it comes to camping in strange and unpopulated places, that prolly won't cut it.

Summoning my good sense, I stopped at the Outdoor Center at the U of O and checked out a set of 2-way radios as well as some road flares and a locator beacon (in case we get stuck someplace where cell phones won't get reception.) With the 'communication' thing covered, I turned my attention to preparing the caches that we're going to place along our journey. Actually, preparing might be a stretch. I gathered all the pieces, but I'm gonna try to talk Dalby into putting them together while I drive. It will give him something to do ;)

Supplies:

* Tent
* Tarp
* Sleeping bags
* Blankets
* First aid kit
* 2-way radios
* Flares
* Locator beacon
* Food
* Water
* Shovel (Thanks RetroRambler!)
* Caches
* Flashlights
* Camera
* Music!


Route:

Just in case you want to follow along! The flag marked "D" is the destination of the western coordinates.

Scars

I've always been able to heal relatively quickly. For some reason, bruises hang around much longer than cuts and scrapes, but some cuts leave scars long after the bruises have disappeared.

I'm very fortunate that I don't have any large or disfiguring scars. I do, however have several little ones, each reminding me of another one of life's lessons learned. For example, I have one underneath my eye that I got when I rescued my puppy from the top of the playhouse <--That taught me not to put dogs on roofs. I have another on my knee from my first (and only) skiing experience <--That taught me not to hurl myself down an icy slope without the ability to stop gracefully.

Like many people, not all of my scars are physical. I have some pretty good-sized emotional scars as well. Obviously, I try to let my wounds heal. I try not to go around ripping them back open at the smallest hint of similar situations. It hurts me to watch other people do that. Every day, I see the emotional triage of life, bleeding hearts and wounded souls everywhere. Recently, however, it's become obvious to me that something that I thought was forgotten was still hanging around, causing internal bleeding.

I've made a connection between my past and my present and noticed that my past is still weighing heavily on my interpretation of everything I encounter. I still see through the eyes of the person that I used to be, even though I'm a completely different woman today. A very trusted friend has helped me see that it's time to allow that wound to close and carry on. I'm going to try to eradicate the symptoms, even though I know that the cause remains untreated. I'll work on controlling the effects until I figure out the cure. Eventually, I know that I will learn from this as well.

Yes, some of these scars continue to hurt once closed, but that's how they caution us to remember what they have taught us.

True, Kind and Necessary

No, your ass looks great in those jeans. I quit gambling months ago. I'll call you tomorrow. Your breath smells terrible.

Should you tell the truth? Should you lie? Which comments deserve apologies before you even get called out on them? That's what I'm blogging about today.

Not too long ago, my little sister reminded me of something that a family friend (appropriately named Karma) had said. What it boils down to is this: "If you want to be a decent and respectful person, make sure that what you say falls into two of these three categories - True, Kind and Necessary."

It follows that it's okay to lie if you're saying something kind and necessary, such as telling someone who has recently quit smoking "I didn't notice that you've gained any weight." Similarly, it's acceptable to say something unkind if it's true and has to be heard, "When you drink, you can be a real ass." Finally, it's okay to say something that doesn't need to be said if it's true and kind.

If you realize that you've made a comment to someone that doesn't include the better part of these three guidelines, you may want to apologize, clarify or amend it to fit it into another. If you realize that you're constantly making comments outside of those lines, maybe it's time to do some self-reflection and figure out if you enjoy alienating people, because you probably do!