After a pleasant drive along the Oregon Coast, we pitched our tent at Humbug Mountain State Park along US-101. The rotating residents of RVs and car campers were in the throes of dinnertime activities. The familiar sounds of clinking beer bottles and wood crackling in fire pits accompanied the sigh of relief I sounded after realizing that my vacation had begun. Max and I followed the short path to the campground's secluded beach. In the shadow of Humbug Mountain, breathing in the salty ocean air, I watched the sunset. How fortunate I felt to have this opportunity to sit in solitude on the Pacific Ocean's sandy shore with not a care in the world!
In the morning, I had a chance to chat with my campground neighbors: Collin and Sarah from Salt Lake City, Utah. Their lifestyle deserves the "Most Enviable" award. For these avid telemark skiers, living in SLC is ideal since it's within spitting distance of several world-famous winter recreation areas. Both work as pharmacists for a national drugstore, which permits this outdoor adventure-seeking couple to travel to more desirable locales when the blazing heat of summer melts the snow in Utah...brilliant career choice!
Around lunchtime, I rolled into the Ranger Station at Gasquet: HQ for Smith River National Recreation Area, located within Six Rivers National Forest and adjacent to Jedediah Smith Redwoods State Park.
Armed with good information on trails, road conditions, and a fabulous park map purchased from the friendliest Forest Service employees I've ever encountered in my lifetime, I set my sights on Summit Valley Trail in the South Fork region of Smith River. I made it to MP 13, whereupon I discovered three guys using a garden trowel to dig their Subaru out of the snow. After watching several unsuccessful attempts to unstuck their vehicle, I offered to tow them out with my Jeep. At first, they declined. But realizing the garden trowel approach wasn't working, they found some rope and moments later...their Subaru was freed! The most unfortunate part of their story is that the turn-off for their trailhead was located back at MP 3.5 and they didn't even need to travel so far up FR-15.
My own hike also met an unfortunate ending since I was never able to locate the trailhead allegedly located at MP 15 due to snow covering most signs and any hint of a trail. Max and I still enjoyed the vistas from the road and a small black bear sighting.
With wet boots soaked through to my socks, I drove down to lower elevations in search of a place to camp for the night. Making my way into the central portion of the park, I arrived at Dry Lake just after dusk. Ready for a good night's rest, I collapsed the backseat of my Jeep and converted it into a cozy bedroom. When my head hit the inflatable pillow, the last sound I recall was the croaking of pond frogs.
The bright sunshine squeezed its way through my squinting eyelids, signaling morning had hit the mountain. I emerged from my cozy bedroom only to discover a flat tire...the perils of driving forest roads! In no time, I had the spare in place and started the long drive back into town to get the flat patched. Shortly after returning to South Fork Road, I came upon a retired couple and their dog, Reno, stranded with...a flat tire! It was the second tire I changed that morning, and I hadn't yet eaten breakfast.
While driving back from Crescent City, I passed through the Redwoods State Park...again. But this time, I decided to turn off at Walker Road. Dogs aren't allowed on trails in California State Parks. But Max could walk on a leash along this road. It was one of the highlights of our trip. The groves of redwoods are so majestic. We wandered for hours along this road, mesmerized by the awesome stature of these trees.
Back on Scenic Byway Hwy-199, spectacular river views are abundant. I was driving slowly to soak it all in. But realizing that not all people were there to sightsee, I made a point to pull over to let faster-moving vehicles pass. But one particular turnout had a huge pothole that I didn't see until it was too late. Crunch! I thought for sure that two more flat tires were in store for me. It was only a matter of time, right?
So back on the forest road...again; feeling anxious about the possibility of two flat tires, I came across Deputy Devin Perry of the Del Norte County Sheriff's Office. He was assigned to patrol campgrounds for the holiday weekend since there is only one Forest Ranger to cover this jurisdiction. He gave me several good suggestions for possible campsites, being a true local born and raised in the area and an experienced sport fisherman. Taking one of his suggestions, I set out for Knopki Creek and found an amazing campsite for the night, complete with mountain vistas and moss-covered rocky creek falls. But the fear of being stranded with two flat tires with a minimum walk of ten miles just to get to the main highway kept me awake. So I decided not to take that risk and packed up the Jeep to start the long drive back down the forest road, during which I saw a beautiful deer dart across my path.
Upon arriving at the historic Patrick's Creek Campground (built in the 1930s by CCC), I was fortunate to find a site available so late at night on a holiday weekend. Moments after registering and paying the fee, I was able to enjoy a peaceful night's slumber with the knowledge that if I were to wake up with two flat tires that help was just a few hundred feet away. With my new game plan, I set out that morning...again...on yet another forest road to find the trailhead for High Dome. The drive along Patrick's Creek Road was so scenic that I missed the turnoff, but didn't realize it for almost ten miles. But seeing a wolverine scurry along the shoreline of Patrick's Creek more than made up for any inconvenience.
Unfortunately, my misadventure resulted in an extra two hours of driving time. So the sunny morning had disappeared into a thick, cloudy afternoon by the time I reached the trailhead. Walking along the ridge's forest fire ruins in the gossamer veil of storm clouds conjured up images of the isolated moor country of England depicted in Wuthering Heights. Would I encounter Heathcliff? Or Sasquatch? Alas, the only thing I enountered was rain, and more rain.
Once I accepted that this was not a passing shower, the decision to stay or to go was upon me. After deliberation worthy of a capital punishment trial by jury, I opted to pack up the Jeep and head home. Setting out on the forest road for the final time, I encountered Deputy Perry driving up to see if my fear of two flat tires had been realized. It felt nice to know that the local law enforcement was watching out for me.
Though my vacation ended up being a mere four days/three nights long, it felt epic in its scope. My intention was to seek a bit of solitude in the wilderness (and a lot of sunshine). In my attempt to escape society, I found myself connecting with a community of fellow outdoor enthusiasts that proved to be most rewarding.
