Idaho Trip, Day 3
So day three of our trip finds us still at Cove Palisades State Park in Oregon. Here's your first shot of our tent, which Amy procured via Craig's List's "free" page especially for the trip. Notice how the amount of duct tape on the rainfly evolves over the course of the trip.
Also, compare our campsite...
... to that of our neighbors:
Ah, nothing like the freedom of being away from the trappings of home, out in the wilds, is there?
Our next stop was Smith Rocks, supposedly a super place to rock climb. It was certainly beautiful, and we did do some climbing.
Note the cleft in the rock to the left in the picture above, with that sort of meadow hidden up there? I immediately decided I wanted to live there. Climb up and build a house. Raise mountain goats. It looked pretty high up, but gave it a try and Amy actually made it up. I was within 5 feet but chickened out. Rock climbing is like tree climbing. You need to take it slow, climb the same spot over and over and go a little further each time. If you just scramble up there all haphazard... nah. Besides, I got to sit in the mouth a really fine bat cave. I recognized the smell from the zoo. (Another point for the trip of smells!)
Other folks were a bit more serious about their climbing:
More intersting insect homes...
After Smith Rocks, we kept on east towards Idaho, stopping to pick up supplies at Ray's Food Place in Prineville, where I made a (quite rare) impulse buy, I couldn't resist... the LOST ENERGY DRINK.
We fueled up on energy so we would be able to hold out until dinner was ready, about 40 miles later, according to the internet. Given Oregon's ban on campfires, Amy had dreamed up the idea of Car Cooking the day before and was dying to try it out. So we wrapped ourselves some potatoes, wedged them over the exhaust manifold, and headed off down the road, awaiting our dinner.
Except, whoops, is that really the exhaust manifold? No, I guess it's the intake manifold. Is there a difference? When it comes to cooking potatoes, YES. The zucchini over the shocks and the potato by the radiator didn't fare any better. They were all still raw 120 miles later.
But Route 26 will be what I think of from now on when I think of Oregon. Now I can forget that nasty Portland place. This is one of the most beautiful roads I have ever been on.
Amy suggested doing a bike trip down 26 next summer. It doesn't look like the safest road...
We saw some beautiful abandoned buildings. A precursor to our third night, spent in the "ghost town" of Whitney.