Star Spangled Grey Nomads.

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I'd seen Springer. I'd seen all those images of Walmart frequent flyers that inundate the net. I'd seen all the films and heard all the anecdotes. I was prepared for total immersion into the trailer park lifestyle, right down to pseudonyms, Cletis for myself and Roxanne for the bride. I even had my outfit sitting in the wardrobe - blue work singlet, stick on tats and a durrie for the corner of the mouth.

After 2 weeks, was it all a myth? Was my stereotypical image of US trailer folk merely a fabrication pedalled out by Jerry Springer in the hunt for ratings? We were beginning to think that way until.......... I won't mention the town's name but it's RV park at least gave us a small window into that genre.

The trick is to look for certain telltale signs:

Situated on a main road.

A paucity of trees.

Kids toys scattered liberally around the grounds.

A whole bunch of permanent looking trailers in less than mint condition.

Naturally, if you are simply on vacation and not conducting a theses on the socio economic status of American trailer folk, avoid those indicators and the only people you are likely to encounter are those we've come across these past 3 weeks.

Americans in RVs are much the equivalent of our own grey nomads back home, a star spangled version if you will, out to see what their most ecclectic of lands can plate up. Mix that in with the full gamut of like minded Europeans mirroring what we are doing and the ambience at RV parks is like a UN Council meeting only enjoying themselves.

The RV action this week involved a serious tangent shift. Word had filtered through that some of the parks on which we had our radar set weren't completely open for business just yet.

"Too early" they said."

"Too much snow on the roads" they said.

"Haven't heard of snow ploughs" I said.

This led to a round table conference and a new plan of attack. Being Aussie coastal dwellers who are partial to the odd tree or two:

"Penny, man the rudder! TACKING!"

A left turn and we hit the coast of Northern California and into Oregon.

Not a bad option although the plan read better on paper than in practice. There were plenty of miles in this course alteration and we had an appointment to meet in Vancouver (next blog). The WHOW also has an annoying tendency to chugalug up hills and chew fuel like a grizzly bear during the salmon migration.This translated to skimming through this majestic stretch of coastline a tad quicker than I would have liked. On the positive side, I would normally break out in a rash at the mere mention of elongated hours behind the wheel, but ticking off bullet points of sights and hamlets along this rugged stretch proved to be a helluva pastime. Fog, giant trees, bracing sea breezes and clapboard buildings may seem a pitiable combo but the melange is actually darn atmospheric.

Did I say trees? You ain't seen a tree til you've been up close and personal with a redwood forest. If tree hugging is your drug then you'd best book in for a session on the rack to increase the wingspan if you intend giving a mature redwood the full embrace. One particular tree alone, very creatively labelled "Big Tree", stood at 100 metres tall and 20 metres around the girth. He was also 1500 ish years young, meaning he'd racked up some substantial long service leave in the course of its life.

On a slightly more serious note, strolling through those forests shrouded in fog, I was overcome by the raw silence of the moment, even to the point of feeling compelled to shut up and absorb the majesty, if just for a short period.

Whilst the driving hours have been substantial, Penny and myself have developed a very cosy job share arrangement. I do all the driving and she does all the complaining about my driving. It's textbook ying and yang, the kind of balance that can develop over 20 years of wedded bliss.

Speaking of which, on the alter, if I had vowed to the gorgeous other half:"

"In 20 years time, we will celebrate our anniversary at a cosy seaside village nestled on the Oregon coast", she wouldn't have been able to rip out her "I Do" quick enough. She may have been a little more reticent if an RV had been thrown into the equation.

Still, Piran, a cute as a button Slovenian coastal town, for the 15th anniversary and Cannon Beach in Oregon for the 20th is a quirky anniversary CV, though it puts some pressure on the 25th.

Yeatesy



This week we have again covered quite a few miles in our WHOW. Gary would argue that of course being the passenger and not doing the driving would always be pleasant, but it's a hard job checking on Tom Tom our GPS to ensure we are going the right way, telling Gary where we need to stop to have a break and how to avoid the masses of Indians we came across in the car parks in the National Parks this week, who don't know what "one way" means, or that a turn around zone means a turnaround zone not a parking zone, or getting out of the car on a road with moving traffic to take photos is not a good idea.

We took the coastal drive of Oregon and made our final destination for a few nights at Cannons Beach, nestled between the Pacific Ocean and the Coast Mountain Range. The city is famed for its forested farmlands, rocky monoliths and miles of sandy beaches. It was also a lot colder and windier than I had expected. Many people come down from Portland for the weekend to escape the heat, so it has a transient population. However, how do you explain having several toy shops, art galleries and ice cream shops at such a destination?

It also happened to be where we celebrated our 20th wedding anniversary, not bad going, and Cannons Beach does have a few descent restaurants to have a break from the WHOW.

Margaret Finlay mentioned in her emails at Christmas time how much wildlife they saw on their drive from La to San Fran. This week I think we can tick quite a few off. Let's see, we saw; skunks, badgers, raccoons, deer, squirrels and other critters. These were all road kill. As for the live animals, we can add; foxes, elk, antelope, and bears. If animal spotting is your thing, then there is plenty to see (unless you're an older American with a huge photographic lens and binolculars who crawls along on the hiking trails holding all us walkers up while he tries to photograph the white crested, black spotted sap sucking bird that is hiding in bushes 500 meters away).

Whilst it may have been cold, we have managed to walk and bike ride a few trails. At least we are getting a little exercise even if we have to stop mid hill climb and catch our breath, readjust the gears and start up, up and more up again. Boy we are out of condition.

And finally this week my "sign of the week" goes to a road sign on a road meandering through farmlands heading to the coast. " BEWARE DEAF CHILD". Now does that mean when the "child" becomes an adult the sign will change to say, "beware of the deaf adult" and eventually "beware of the deaf pensioner"? Or if the family moves, does the family take their sign with them, or does it stay in the town forever and a day? So many questions, with no answers? Or have we misread it. Should we have been concerned driving our RV in a "beware deaf child" zone?

Until next week.

Penny

More images at:

www.colvinyeates.zenfolio.com

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Photos

Northern California
Driftwood and fog

Mount Ranier National Park
Snow hiking

Cannon Beach
The lonely bride celebrating 20 years of married bliss

Mount Ranier, Washington State
One man, one mountain, lots a snow.

Picnic spot
Park bench in northern California

Oregon coastline
Rugged

Cannon Beach
Cosy village

Comments

[D MJ Binkley]

We love that part of the country
We lived in Seattle for 7 years and made frequent trips to Oregon. You've got some great photos.