Coast Road Trip

With the arrival of the MT3, there has been considerable chaos. Still, we were able to pull off a family gathering at the Oregon Coast. Today's post covers that. For those only interested in hearing how the bus handled carrying 6 people plus coolers and luggage, I left that for the end :) I can't get to my pictures, so I swiped the one below from the internet. Neskowin looks just like this, and yes, the beach is that empty.

Out of the City

It still amazes me how hard it is to get a group of humans to do just about anything. Kids especially. After talking about plans, setting expectations and defining what was going to be done by whom and when... rather than leaving around 2:30 or 3 in the afternoon on Friday, we left as rush hour started at 5. I guess, all things considered, that's really not too bad. My folks, T and C all arrived within a few minutes of each other. After a few minutes of strategy, we combined 3 cars into Flash and Hapy: 10 persons in total. Since it was the first weekend after the end of the school year, I had reservations about how long it would take to get to the coast. We were pleasantly surprised.

MT3
The MT3 are natural travelers. I should have known this from their epic journeys from western Montana to western Oregon, but seeing it firsthand is pretty amazing. For such youngsters, they self-assign into seats without fuss, grab a pillow and a book and belt in as soon as you say "go". They don't complain, ask where we are or how long it'll take to get there... they didn't even ask to stop to go to the bathroom. Crazy. In fact, before we hit Dundee, the 2 boys were asleep.

Dundee
No trip to the coast is complete without some mention of Dundee. For the unfamiliar, Dundee is a tiny no-traffic-light town in the middle of Oregon's exploding wine country. Once home to drab, empty storefronts, Dundee now houses many tasting rooms representing the vineyards from across Yamhill County. Sounds like a fun place to visit, eh? It can be... if its your final destination. The empty storefronts didn't slow down the passing cars nearly as much as the wine connoisseurs who flock to Dundee. To be fair, 99W chokes down from a 4-lane 55mph highway to a 2-lane 20mph drag to pass through the center of town, and has for 20+ years. The cork-sniffers just bring traffic to a stop when they want to cross the street, or make sudden left turns into particularly interesting looking wine bars. Neat. On this trip, however, Dundee did not slow us much at all, and we only came to a complete stop once between the 2 trips through it. Maybe its just too early in the season for wine yet. We did happen to notice during the coast-bound slog through town that construction has finally started on a by-way around Dundee for the Portland-to-McMinville (and beyond) traffic. Hazah!

Neskowin

Those traveling in Hapy arrived about 10 minutes after Flash. About 30 minutes before Flash arrived, my brother E landed at the beach with his 2 little girls. All told, there were 13 of us, pulling into Boo's friend's beach house. Boo had been going to this house since she was a very young teenager, and treats the house like the home she never had. The kids spent nearly all of the daylight hours on the sand in front of the house, digging holes or splashing water. A weekend without television or electronic devices had a calming effect on everyone, sending all of us home much more relaxed than we were when we arrived. Boo and I were the last to leave (with 4 kids in the bus), since we had to clean the place top-to-bottom before we left. We discovered a plumbing issue and had to solve that first, delaying our departure until after 9:PM. By leaving so late, however, we missed any traffic.

Hapy
The bus ran incredibly well. From start to end, his temperature barely popped over 190*, and he took the hills well. At no point did I need to down-shift below 3rd, and that includes that massive hill on the US101 heading north from the OR18 / US101 interchange while loaded down with 3 adults, 3 kids, 2 full coolers and 6 people's luggage. The cross-winds from McMinville to the foot of the coast range made handling a challenge, but otherwise weather had no meaningful effect. After sitting on the driveway at the beach for 2 days, there wasn't a single drop of either coolant or oil. I checked both anyway before heading home and they were spot-on. Last, how was the mileage? When I filled up on Thursday (before our Jun18-21 adventure began), the fuel jockey topped-off the tank. This skewed the numbers downwards, but even with that caveat, we got 28mpg. Based on how much fuel was in the tank when the nozzle popped (as in, if we hadn't topped off), we effectively got 31mpg between the Hoot and the coast run. Carrying camping gear, coolers, and extra people through cross winds and over mountain ranges... Hapy killed it.

That's it for today. I am still working on the music review for the 10th Annual Hornings Hideout Hootenanny. Additionally, Boo and I hit another festival this past weekend, so I have another set of travel posts and festival / music reviews to come. Thanks for following along. It's looking to be a fun, travel-filled Summer!

Black Sheep Family Reunion

The last weekend in July, Boo and I took a road trip to the central Oregon Coast mountain range for a multi-day music and arts festival.  This post covers the road trip and the festival.  Sorry I've been away from the blog for a bit.  It being Summer, I'm doing more, and writing less.  More content for later!

Drive to Waldport, Almost

Signs at Entrance

In another classic planning mishap, Boo had to work the morning we intended to leave for the Black Sheep Family Reunion music and art festival (BSFR).  Our destination was 3 hours by car (so 4 hours by microbus) and the gates opened at noon.  While Boo worked, I leisurely got the bus packed, and we hit the road just after noon.  Since Boo hadn't slept much the night before, she crawled into the back and napped after we passed Wilsonville.  She re-appeared between Corvallis and Philomath, joining me for the incredibly fun drive down OR-34.  The drive prior to OR-34 was typical Summer Friday freeway stuff: slow, hot and filled with impatient drivers.  The sides of the bus acted like the edges of a bubble, though, keeping that energy out, while allowing our smiles through.  OR-34 is a grapevine of switch-backs, steep climbs and drop-offs along the Alsea River.  As I drove it, I laughed with joy.  I dare to dream it in a sports car that's tuned for that kind of thing.  I imagine it would be spectacular.  We were buffeted by an older Subaru from a particularly angry pickup truck who appeared to flick chewing tobacco at us as he later passed.  Hilarious.

The BSFR was first marked with a small sign "300 feet" before the otherwise not-terribly characterized turn-off.  There was a small sign, though, and we were able to navigate it, bringing 2 others from the "main road" with us, including the older Subaru.  We climbed a narrow "this has to be the wrong" road, bore left at a "Y" which was marked with a simple arrow on a cardboard box onto a gravel road.  Holding Hapy at a 5mph lumber, we eventually happened upon a gate with a troupe of hippies hanging around.  "This must be it," Boo mused.  We were greeted with a chorus of "nice bus" comments, and a vague direction about continuing down the road to the next gate.

Camping the Glade

View of stage from bonfire

A few more turns and road dip/climbs and we suddenly were upon the festival camping.  We asked a Vanagon driver what we were supposed to do and he said "get out and join us for a beer".  LOL.  We ended up doing that later, actually, but first we met with the next clump of hippies running the place to get a camping spot.  At that second gate, we were waved to the side so the older Subaru could get by.  Turns out, the driver was the drummer for one the Friday bands (KrazyFingers, I think).  We later thanked him for running interference on the pickup, and we had a good laugh about it.  Once the Subaru was past, we were pointed to the grassy area just to our left.  "Just don't mess with my cones," he said.  We rolled over to where we were pointed and Kenny, a blonde-haired, beaded fella with a huge smile, waved us in, and helped us get level.  The rest of the weekend was spent making friends with that group of festers.  We even found Justice, a friend we made at Horning's Hideout Hootenanny over memorial Day weekend (See: So Starts Camping Season 2014).  Between acoustic guitars, bubble-making equipment and a soccer ball, the grassy glade had activity most of the weekend.

Events, Art, Food, Crafts

Black Sheep Circus

Once the pop-top was up, and the camp-couch pulled out, Boo and I grabbed a couple of beers and headed for the stage.  The main bowl was lined with craft vendors along "house-left" (left side facing the stage), food vendors at the back, circus acts practicing on "house-right" and a large installation art piece at the very front of "house-left".  There were multiple artists working on that large piece all weekend.  In the circus space, there were a variety of events happening.  Sometimes, there were jugglers or tumblers.  Other times, Kevin (neighbor from the Glade) would bring down his bubble-stuff and create massive bubbles that would float across the front of the stage.  The mixture of performance art and music was really fantastic.  I didn't know what to expect of the performance stuff, so I expected little; we were well rewarded.  The fire dancers on Saturday night (Black Sheep Circus) were really great, and, though we missed them, we heard that Circus Luminescence stole the show later that night with an interpretive performance about technology and how it's over-use is creating barriers between us rather than connecting as FB, etc promise to be.

Hiking
The venue offered more than just a stage and booths.  Being located in the middle of the coastal mountains, there were many acres of trails.  Boo and I went exploring with some of our new-found friends on Saturday, missing the early acts.  Mary Sue pulled us together and gave us a walking history of the festival while Doug and Paul played botanist, identifying plants for medicinal, recreational or food purposes.  We found a second venue where another festival stage could be used.  We saw old-growth forest, small one-tent dug-out camp spots sprinkled along the trails, deep ravines.  As much as the festival was a break from day-to-day work, the exposure to deep nature was especially unexpected and resonated deeply for the next week.

Abbreviated Music Review

Jug Dealers

No music festival attendance is without some form of music review.  We honestly didn't see many of the bands.  Some were really good, like Candelaria whose lead singer gave all she had wiggling on stage and belting out in Spanish to a well-kept backing band.  Jim Lewin was a festival highlight, getting called back for an encore while the Smirkin' Merkins were a definite must-miss.  Frankly, they were just awful.  Weird, poorly executed and for an afternoon festival crowd, their lyrics were highly not kid appropriate.  If they come back next year, I'll make a point of being far far away during their performance.  Late that evening, McTuff was dialed so loud that it hurt my ears, but they were so well mixed that we could hear them perfectly back at the bus.  We sat in the dark staring at stars while their music washed over us.  They were really good.  Just loud :)

The Jug Dealers were a band in need of direction: songs arranged with the female vocal as a lead were great.  Any tunes where the guitarist led, and she was supposed to be backing vocal didn't work as well (she just overpowered the lead, making the vocal line confusing).  Last, they had an older guy on house-right either painting a picture or joining on vocals.  He simply created chaos, honestly, and made them appear more amateurish than they really are.

Drive Home

Kevin and Mary Sue bus

Boo had to work Monday morning at 8:AM, so staying for the Sunday afternoon performances wasn't really practical.  Unfortunately, that meant we were going to miss Scott Law, Ducky Pig and Brothers and Sister; three bands we were aiming for.  Ah well.  The first year is to see if the festival is a fit.  Next year, we'll get more time off so we can do it start to finish.  Our new friends lamented our early departure nearly as much as we did, and we agreed to camp the same spot next year... for the full festival.  Hapy fired up on the first try, though we drove out of the festival grounds in limp-mode.  We stopped at a siding along the Alsea River and stood in the cool water to offset the increasing heat of the day.  By the time we hit Philomath, we figured we had pushed our luck on fuel, so we stopped.  We got over 38mpg on that partial tank.  yeah, that's right.  38mpg in a VW bus.  That's more than double what I used to typically get with the old 1700.  We stopped again at the Charbonneau District rest area to cool our heels, before the final push into Portland area traffic.  Because of some driving mis-arrangements, we collected T&C on our way through the southern end of the metro area.  While a wise use of time, it didn't create the buffer between our festival mental space and our parenting one.  That transition was especially hard.

That's it for today.  Lots of things going on, so lots of material for future posts.  As always, thanks for following along,

Scarlet Fire Department :-)

Bay City Blues

After the Timothy Lake camping trip, we felt pretty confident in our new little camper, and planned another trip right away. Three weeks after driving up Mt. Hood, we planned a trip to Cape Mears State Park. We had heard that there were interesting birds and other wildlife there, and the park wasn't as crowded as the Cape Lookout State Park just south of there. I followed the old axciom of "if it ain't broke, don't mess with it" approach to preparing Hapy for the trip. I continued to drive him to work every day, and he performed great. When the day to leave arrived, we loaded Hapy with all the usual camping stuff for a Summer weekend on the Oregon Coast (so we brought plenty of warm clothes) and hit the highway.
We took Interstate 5 to OR217 to US26 - our usual route when we drove other cars. We hadn't driven as far as Hillsboro before Hapy started some odd misfires. I verbally wrote it off as bad gas or the engine being cold to my wife, but I started obsessing about it. Thoughts of "I shoulda done a full tuneup" started crowding into my mind. Everyone else was enjoying the view out the windows while I listened to the occasional misfire and grimaced. The Coast Range passed and we could start to smell the ocean when Hapy started to really fail. I had to finally pull over on a straight stretch of road to see what was going on. Hapy died as I pulled to the shoulder, and the feelings of anger and disappointment started to really take hold. On top of that, I had to appear on top of things for my 2 very young kids who knew right away something was not quite right.
I popped the engine door and looked around. Nothing looked wrong. I checked the hoses and plug wires. Everything looked normal, but felt pretty warm. I tried the old oil dipstick test (if you can touch the oil without it hurting, you're not too hot), and it was HOT. Drat. I checked the fuel filter, even changed it, but that didn't do anything. I resolved to let the engine cool and then try to get us to our destination, but my wife was not too hip for that. The passing semi-trucks were making us both rather nervous, so we were hoping the bus would cool off fast. Luck smiled on us in the form of a passing unencumbered tow-truck heading into Tillamook - same as us.
The tow truck driver told us we were about 10 miles from Tillamook, and that he knew an old VW mechanic in the next town north: Bay City. Although I wanted to wait out the cooling engine, I knew the kids weren't safe on that narrow shoulder with the passing trucks. I knew we needed to go this route; knowing our camping trip was effectively over before it began. We all pilled into the tow truck (it had a crew cab if you can believe it), put Hapy up on the platform and drove to Bay City.
Now, if you've never been to Bay City, it doesn't have a traffic light, nor any kind of downtown, but there is a mechanic that knows air-cooled Volkswagens: Klingelhofer Auto Repair. Crazy. The name even sounded old-country. By the time we got to his shop, which was also his home, it was getting late in the afternoon, and he couldn't get to it right away. He had the tow truck driver drop the bus near the garage and then we all had a beer. Yeah, that's right. Me, the tow truck driver and the mechanic. Klingelhofer said we were more than welcome to "camp" in his driveway, and pointed out where the ocean was from his place. It turned out to be about 300 feet from his driveway, so while he fixed the bus on Saturday, we walked the Bay City beach/coast line. Because of time delays, we were unable to leave Satruday night before we lost our camping reservation, so we spent Saturday night at Klingelhofer's too. We had a big ol' barbeque with a bunch of his friends, rode around on his quad and played Frisbee.
Before we left on Sunday, we settled the bill, and he explained that the coil had gone bad. This explained the weird misfires, and really couldn't have been diagnosed until it finally died. When a coil fails, it doesn't always give you a warning, so its a good idea to carry a spare. When it starts acting funny, swapping a new coil takes 5 minutes, and you're on the road again. The alternative is getting towed to a garage and camping in their parking lot for the weekend. Considering our experience, though, that alternative wasn't really that all bad. In fact, it was kinda fun.
Until next time--