Camping during covid

Having done a two-night, local camping trip and experienced what that did for my head and sense of well-being, I set out ten days ago on a longer venture, with my goal being to get out to Hart Mountain, for two reasons. First, the desert (sagebrush desert up here) is at its best in the spring, and second, I had never been there and wanted to scope it out. It ended up being a six-night trip, two nights in each of three excellent spots.

Spot 1

Headed for a CG I had discovered last fall and wanted to try again. It was (almost) perfect. The imperfections were that it was a bit cold and that it turned out to be the annual gathering spot for a family reunion on Memorial Day Weekend (yeah, I had failed to quite grok that I would be out over Memorial Day Weekend, one of three that I generally try to avoid whenever possible), and they started gathering early. But they were pretty quiet and stayed to themselves while I was there, so that was ok.

The virtues were/are open forest, beautiful creek, no traffic (so critters can be out unconfined at no risk), and good easy hiking.

My campsite.

This was the exact same site we had last fall, and I’ve started thinking of it as “our spot”. Though there are some other spots that are even nicer, their only flaw being how far they are from the toilet.

Scamp loved the place last fall, and she almost seemed to remember it. She was very excited almost the entire time we were there.

A typical view on our walks:

I tried to catch Scamp running around on one of our walks, but didn’t get her at full steam.

She’s not quite as crazy about sticks as she was last fall, but she still loves to tackle a big one now and then.

She actually carried that one a ways, but her persistence is tapering off as her adult judgement kicks in.

The creek was quite full at this time of year:

Having grown up in towns with rivers (I literally assumed all towns had streams–a river or at least a creek–running through them, like they all have streets, until I grew up and discovered otherwise), the sound of a stream is possibly the most peaceful, relaxing, take-your-troubles-away thing I know. Soothing as the sound of the surf can be, streams are better for me. Sitting by a flowing stream, my anxieties and troubles get washed out of my head and away. So on the full day we were there, I set myself up in the afternoon (once it got warm enough) to sit by the creek to read or just be awhile.

And took some video to share the flow.

Having not taken the bike last fall and regretting it, I took the bike this time, so I decided to get it down. It wasn’t overly successful–I discovered washboards are even less fun on a bike that in a car or van. Nonetheless, I did ride it out a mile and a half or so, which Scamp approved of.

The cats seem to be less and less anxious to get out of the van these days, or maybe it was just that there was less cover than they like nearby for escaping from a certain canine, but they did get out a few times. Phantom:

And, if you look closely, Shadow:

Spring flowers were out, including some pretty little ground flowers.

For another ground shot–I was 75-80% sure there was a bear track here. It was somewhat easier to see in reality than it is in the picture, and I could be wrong, but it looks like a bare human footprint with long claw marks at the front. If it was a bear, it was a small one and several days old, so it was merely cool and not scary.

It was a good thing I had planned to leave after the second night, because that day was the Friday of Memorial Day weekend and the clan was gathering. Both nights it got into the twenties, but it was colder Thursday night than Wednesday, and Friday morning I woke to see a dusting of snow. Took this shot through the van window when I first got up.

Here’s a clearer shot of Scamp’s day bed, with her checking it out.

And here are a couple from that morning’s walk. The second one is one of the sites I have in mind if I ever get there and “my site” is taken.

A few more random shots from that CG. Scamp in a rare quiet moment:

Scamp working hard to get herself out of the creek. She managed it just as I decided to try to help.

And the cats relaxing in the morning. They very much approve of the time I spend in the van with Scamp outside, and have gotten very snuggly in the mornings especially.

I couldn’t resist including the blurry shot of Phantom; it looks like he’s working at living up to his name.

Interlude: Trip to Hart Mountain

Friday we headed out for the unknown, i.e. Hart Mountain. Stopped in Silver Lake for a quick use of the internet, though I found I didn’t want to dive back into the news at all, so I basically checked in on FB and mapped to Lakeview, where I planned to re-fuel the van and try for some take-out for myself.

Part of the agenda for the trip was to get a system down for safe fueling (am doing fairly well with this) and trying a take-out to see how safe that felt. Both were successful, and serving people were masked (and gloved in the food place) even though Lakeview has a low known incidence of covid. I’m still a bit awkward in working through logical decontamination steps if one presumes surface contamination occurs, but am getting better at it.

The drive from Lakeview to Hart Mountain was beautiful, partly thanks to the weather (lots of low-lying little clouds and occasional rain in the distance). Traffic varied from light (on Hwy 140) to nonexistent (on the Plush Bypass), which always helps my spirit expand. I love desert vistas, and I kept stopping to take pictures. A sampling:

OK, so that’s a large sampling, but trust me, it’s not all of them.

Spot 2: Hart Mountain

The pavement stops just as you get to the Hart Mountain Reserve, and the first CG is just a few hundred yards in.

It was not open–which was a risk I had taken–I couldn’t tell from online information which CGs would be open and which not. Knowing Oregon had started opening things up outdoors the week or two before, I had chosen to take the risk.

I stopped at the information pullout, and walked around with Scamp a bit, and was debating what to do (one thought being, could I get away with sneaking in and staying anyway?) when a park service guy pulled in. I approached him and asked “I suppose I can’t get away with staying, can I” and he replied that he was there to open it up and it would be fine. So going out on Memorial Day Weekend worked to my advantage there.

I followed him in, parked the van in the furthest site, and climbed a little hill behind the site to see if that was the spot for us. You can see the park guy’s pickup down by the rest rooms.

At this point, I was the only camper there, so I walked through each site before picking just the right one (best angle for the view and wind, not too far from the restrooms). Settled on #4.

Sadly, the place didn’t stay deserted and by late afternoon I had neighbors, and the next night (Saturday) every spot was full, some with two parties in it. But people were quiet, and distancing was not an issue–easy to avoid others.

I kept trying to get satisfactory pictures of the hillside, showing the delicate spring green in the draws and lichen on the cliff faces, but none of them really do it justice. You know how it is. Here are some attempts anyway.

Walks with Scamp were around the CG and down the road. This was taken on the way back from our evening walk. My rig is hidden by the little hill next to the rig you can see.

The next morning the goal was just to explore the refuge, to check out the roads, what’s there, and generally sight-see. And gather some sagebrush, which is something I do every time I get out to sagebrush country. I love the scent, and it’s probably the earliest scent I remember, since it surrounded me as a toddler. I can relate to it being a sacred plant for native Americans.

Turned out the roads, while gravel, are quite drivable, which got me started planning a future trip. More on that later, perhaps. (Or not–the post got too long.)

About a couple of miles or less from the CG there’s a turnoff up to the one fishing spot on the refuge. It’s a fairly steep pull–I turned off the anti-skid feature on the van that I hate because it will decide to let up on the throttle just when you need it–but a nice spot when you get there. I suspect I’m not the only person who has wished to camp there, but it’s not allowed, I’m sure for good reason.

Desert vistas are almost as satisfying to my soul as sitting by a mountain stream, so I have lots of pictures of vistas. Here’s a couple taken on my way back.

Another mile or two past the turnoff for the fishing spot, the road heads up into the refuge proper.

The road climbs for a couple of miles; my first stop was at the Warner Valley Overlook, where there’s a pullout and a rather nice loop trail up to the overlook.

Eventually you get up to the top of a sort of tableland. I think that’s the Hart Mountain visitor’s center in the background there. Little tiny white bits this side of the mountains.

Near the visitors center I stopped for the one pronghorn I saw all day. Had thought maybe to take a walk on the trail there, but even with Scamp on leash I figured we’d spook the antelope, so moved on.

Turns out Frenchglen is only 50 miles or so from the visitor’s center, so it would be an easy hop from Hart Mountain to Page Springs CG someday . . . .

I was curious about the Hot Springs CG, so headed up that way. There are three camping areas; I didn’t explore them all, leaving that for another trip. Here’s a view from above of one of them.

The CG wasn’t entirely full, but full enough that I was not regretting leaving stuff down at my spot from the night before to claim my spot for that night. But it definitely looks like a goal for at least one night on a future trip. Possibly two, to allow for hiking and a dip in the hot springs. I walked around a bit and had a very nice conversation with a guy from Ashland out camping with his 16 year old Aussie. He said he’d had Aussies all his life, and he definitely had a way with Scamp; it was nice to watch. His old girl was a sweetheart, though she’d had a rough start in life and it had take time for her to mellow. Some of us do calm down and mellow in our old ages :-).

I know I took other pictures there, but they seem to have disappeared.

Moved on to check out another road, looking for a place to stop for lunch. Headed up to a labeled overlook, and decided the view was just right for a lunch stop. There were a couple of other vehicles there at first, but they both moved on soon.

Sitting with a desert vista satisfies my soul almost as much as sitting by a mountain stream, so by the end of lunch I was feeling mellow and meditative.

The snowy mountain over there I think has to be Steens Mountain, and looking at all that snow I am now more understanding of the fact that the Steens Mountain Road has been closed both times I’ve been over that way.

After lunch I decided to head back “home” (it doesn’t take long for a campsite to become home these days) thinking maybe I could do something about how scuzzy I was beginning to feel. The CG has a spigot with potable water, and I figured maybe I could at least shampoo my hair, remembering times in the past when I had done a full bath and shampoo, two sudsings even, in less than five gallons of water. I don’t have a way of setting up for bathing privacy outdoors, but I figured I could shampoo while fully clothed.

And so it proved. Here’s the setup, after the shampoo was accomplished.

I put about 3 gallons of water in the bucket, added three of my electric teakettles-full of boiling water (maybe two liters?), which brought it up to a comfortably warm temperature, sat on the step to the passenger side with the door open for a shield from neighbors and wind, and shampooed leaning forward, rinsing onto the ground. It was amazing how much cleaner I felt just from washing my hair. I do sponge baths on alternate mornings usually, which also keep me feeling clean (enough), but I’m going to have to keep in mind how much the shampoo helped. It’s something I can do even when boondocking if there’s a creek nearby. Paying attention to not getting the rinse water into the creek.

The rest of the day Scamp and I just lazed around and walked a bit.

The next morning we took a short walk, this time avoiding the road. I think the gravel on the road was bothering her feet, so I kept her off it as much as possible. Which enabled me to notice a few things I had missed. Including these flowers. The leaves look almost like sagebrush, but I’m pretty sure they’re not.

Spot 3: Spontaneous decision that paid off

I wasn’t sure just where I wanted to spend that night–it being the Sunday of Memorial Day weekend could mean getting a spot wasn’t going to be easy–so I headed out as early as I could in case I needed to just drive all the way home. Filled the tank in Lakeview and headed west, still debating. But I’ve driven across Hwy 140 a couple of times now, seeing signs for CGs along the way and thinking to myself I need to check them out someday, so when I spotted a sign twenty-some miles west of Lakeview I thought to myself “Do it now! You’ll never have a better time for it!”, just (barely) in time to make the turn off the highway. Turned out to be an excellent decision.

As soon as I saw that, I knew I had to spend the night.

My view from my eventual carefully-chosen campsite:

And it came with two bars of cell, so I had internet access. Better, in fact, than I often get at home. I hadn’t been set up more than thirty minutes when I decided to stay two nights so I could properly explore things. My only regret is that I hadn’t taken my kayak. Hey, I was headed out to the desert, right? Why would I need it? But that gives me an excuse to go back–that lake is really tempting.

But I did have the bike, so once I’d rested up a bit I got it out to do some exploring with Scamp.

Most of the people who were there turned out to be day trippers, so by evening they were all gone and things got really quiet. But the camping area where we were is somewhat separate from the lake, and the noise in the distance of people having fun is quite enjoyable (like a distant lawnmower on a nice Sunday morning), so they hadn’t bothered me and even added to the scenery as long as they were there.

We found a boat ramp near the CG where I’ll be able to launch the kayak nest time I go.

Scamp kept looking at the water and then looking expectantly at me, so I went and found a couple of sticks and did the right thing.

Scamp had become progressively less frantic since our first nights out, and here, in what was for her an ideal environment (forested, her favorite, water nearby, another favorite, and able to be left untied) she relaxed even more. To the extent of asking to come back into the van after our morning poop walk, and dozing off in comfort along with the cats.

I was feeling pretty relaxed and lazy myself that morning, but I had my eye on a trail that headed up the mountain, gradually, behind the CG, so I finally talked myself outside and Scamp and I headed up the trail. I told myself a minimum of half an hour up, 20 minutes back, but ended up going around “just one more bend”, “just to that tree up there”, until . . Well, you’ll see.

I neglected to take pictures at the beginning of the trail, so these are a quarter to a half mile up, but they’re typical of the trail pretty much all the way up, in terms of steepness. First shot is looking back down, second looking up ahead.

The trail is following a small creek up the draw between hills, and it still had water in it almost to the top.

Not too far up the trail you begin to see lovely mountain meadows, with often with aspen.

I found it hard to resist just taking more and more pictures of them.

Eventually we got up to small leftover snowbanks. Deer track:

Snowball:

Back in the days when my brother did some traveling with me, he used to get out and make a snowball to throw whenever we got near snow. So now I do it for him, or in his honor. I tried to get a picture of it in the air when I tossed it up, but was not successful. That time.

A bit higher, snowbanks got more frequent and bigger. I tried for the air shot again, and this time . . .

Got it!

The trick is to use the ‘burst’ feature, but it was still –well, tricky.

Scamp learned the wonders of snow for the first time. This wasn’t the first time she’d seen snow, that was last summer, but it was cold and rainy and by the side of a highway, so not as much fun.

You know how when you hike in the mountains, you keep thinking you’re getting to the top. . . and you’re not? That kicked in, and along with the “just one more bend, just to that tree” thing, I kept going. Eventually I got out a trail map app and it showed me I was two-thirds to three-fourths of the way to the top, so then I had to keep going. The trail got muckier, and the creek narrower, and eventually I saw a small ridge from which I was pretty sure I’d see over the top to the other side. Instead–I saw this.

A road, for crying out loud. Up which I could probably have hiked all along, I thought to myself. So where does it go? I wondered. Here I am, I must find out.

Finally I got to where things started heading downhill, and I could turn around to go back.

I was about an hour and a half into the hike by this point, so incipient hunger and mild fatigue conspired with curiosity to persuade me to try going back by the road. But this map . . .

. . . or rather, that part of a map I had gotten up at the top (the trail is actually a strait shot from the beginning to the marker), got me wondering if I’d be stuck with a hard scramble to get back to the CG if I stayed on the road, so a quarter mile or so down it, I did an easy scramble down a hillside back to the trail.

Small creek. Follow water downhill to assure not getting lost, I thought.

Eventually I figured out why the map was so wonky, so now I want to got back and figure out how to get to that road to hike up. I have an idea . . .

I was whacked when we got back, and even Scamp was tuckered out for awhile. But after lunch, and tea, and a short nap, I got the bike out and explored the other side of the lake and a mile or two down the road from there.

I strongly suspected I saw a couple of swans across the lake, but had neither binoculars nor camera with telephoto lens so couldn’t be sure. Nonetheless–the white blob across the lake there may be a swan. Or two. Or not.

Scamp got hot enough running after the bike that she went straight for this creek and stayed in it cooling her belly until I called her out to continue.

After supper, we took a short, slow (for me) walk down to the lake, where we met this puppy.

And his person, of course. His name is Nevada, and he was about 6 months old. They had a great romp for ten-fifteen minutes–I think he was just happy to be off leash and playing, and Scamp was happy to have someone smaller than herself to play with for a change.

The next morning we headed home after a short morning walk, during which I found another trail that needs to be explored. All kinds of reasons to go back–I have a trip halfway planned out in my head, but whether it’ll get done this summer, or fall, or next spring, waits to be seen.

What I’ve figured out about traveling during covid

There are five things one must have strategies for in order to feel safe traveling these days: food, fuel, sleeping spot, staying clean (shower, laundry, whatever), and restrooms. Or at least, I do–some people don’t seem to be worrying about any of them much. And I’m not even considering flying, which I avoid under all circumstances anyway.

Food. I took a week’s supply with me, or thought I did. I was running out of dog food at the end, which contributed to my decision to just go home from there. My own food was running low. I could have lasted another day or two, but would have had to live on cheese and tuna, which can get tiresome. Usually, when I travel I figure on most lunches and occasional breakfasts from a restaurant when on the road, but I won’t be patronizing any restaurants for the foreseeable future unless they have well-spaced outdoor seating or a good take-out system that doesn’t require me to go inside. So I have to plan for more food per day to take with me. If I want to stay out longer than a week, I’ll need to plan ahead for that–how to carry more, or where and how to shop while I’m out. I’m getting my system down for grocery shopping at home, but it’s still somewhat stressful; shopping in a strange store somewhere would add another level of stress. This may limit my trips to one week for now–we’ll see. I have a two-three week trip in my mind I’d like to do in the fall, but it may not feel worth it when the time comes.

Fuel. I’m getting comfortable with my process for getting the van fueled. Have done it several times now, and attendants have been at least understanding of my precautions everywhere I’ve gone, though have not always been masked themselves. But you need your system all worked out before you hit the road. My system involves a mask, gloves, and high-alcohol spray for cleaning surfaces, including the gloves, which have vinyl palms.

Sleep. I find myself avoiding more “civilized” campgrounds, where campsites are likely to be closer together and you are likely to have to interact with a camp host one way or another. This had the side-benefit that all three CGs were free (the third used to be a fee site, but the fee station was closed up.) Not all CGs are open yet, may not be all summer, so finding spots is less assured than usual. But things were opening up, so it may become easier as the summer goes on. Depending on what happens–crowds or spikes in covid could keep things closed. Oregon has been opening up slowly and cautiously (up to protests and riots, anyway), and some beaches and parks that initially opened closed down again when too many people showed up. I think they’re opening up again now, but in any case it means doing more checking to make sure I have a spot I can count on every night to sleep.

Another factor is whether or not people in the CGs are ok with keeping their distance. That worked out just fine on this trip. People who camp in more primitive CGs tend to avoid each other, spacing ourselves out with as many sites between neighbors as possible, in the best of times. Perhaps I had fewer conversations with other campers than usual, but still did have some, and no one blinked when I stepped back to maintain spacing. How long will that continue? Will I feel comfortable in more crowded CGs? Would it be as comfortable in a more “civilized” CG? Will some people become hostile towards those of us wearing masks or gloves or keeping our distance? I don’t know.

Staying clean. Normally I plan to stay in a CG with showers at least every 4-5 days when out. However, CGs with showers tend to be more civilized, which as I’ve said I’m more comfortable avoiding these days.

I had thought I could handle a week without a shower–a week during which I would see few people, and no one I know–but what with desert dust and winds, that didn’t quite work out. My hair got to the point I couldn’t stand either the sight or the feel of it. You know what I did about that. Hair is the limiting factor–I routinely do sponge baths to maintain basic cleanliness, but eventually dirty hair drives me to do more. Hair and feet–since I wear sandals, my feet can get kinda grungy. But I know I can handle both anywhere I can get a bucket of water, so that’s ok.

But unless I get more comfortable with civilized CGs, staying clean will be the ultimate limiting factor on lenghth of trips until there’s a vaccine I trust. Even if I figure out where/how to do occasional shampoos, there’s still laundry that eventually has to get done.

Restrooms. Are these an issue? Maybe. Kinda. Depends in part on what you think about transmission from surfaces. Two of the three CGs I stayed at were keeping restroom doors open except when in use; the third still had the traditional “Please put the toilet lid down and close the door” signs up (all were vault toilets.). I found myself more comfortable with keeping the door open, so air would circulate between users. One could take a disinfectant spray for must-touch surfaces if so inclined, and of course handwashing and/or hand sanitizer is a must for me now–normally I’m a bit casual about that.

Of course, all of these things must be taken into account when traveling under any circumstances. It’s just a bit harder and feels riskier to me these days. I do think I feel safer traveling in my van and camping than I would traveling using motels and restaurants. I may even try to make it down to California in the fall once weather permits (I don’t do heat when at all possible.) Assuming friends and family trust me to not bring covid to them. All I need is one place to overnight t make it down there to them. Once again, we’ll see. We live in uncertain times.