Bodega Bay - July 2018

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Escaping the Heat and into the Campground From Hell

"I didn't bring long johns for under my nylon pants," Donna remarked as we were getting ready to hike over the dunes to the beach. It was Saturday morning as we prepared to hike away from the campground.

"I didn't either," I added. "Who would have thought, after the heat back at home, that we'd want long johns?"

"I'm just wearing my heavy cotton pants," the Lady stated with authority, settling the matter as to what all should wear.

We had all arrived early evening on Friday - The Teds, the Ski3pins, and Cathy the Trailer Woman.

This was a rescheduled trip for all of us. Ted had reserved two sites in Westside Campground in the spring. Cathy had just gotten her trailer, it would be good practice for her. We could escape the cold at home and watch whales from Bodega Head. We canceled that trip due to our biggest winter storm of the season - heaps of snow, downed trees, no power. We canceled too late for Ted to get a refund, but he could put the fees toward another weekend. This is how we ended up back at Bodega Bay in the height of the summer season. This was a weekend we all will remember.

Cathy got the pull through site. We were kind, no backing up for Trailer Woman.

We shared a site with the Teds.

The campground was packed. The people in the next site had multiple tents set up right to the edge of our asphalt parking pad.

The group across from us were young people with little kids, cigarettes, and alcohol.

"Oh, that's a bad sign," I moaned as a case of Coors was hoisted up and placed on their table. It soon became evident the people in the next site were also part of this group. Another bad sign.

Saturday morning, after the question of appropriate attire for the day was settled, our talk turned to the repeated wailing from a baby during the night.

"I think the little one was scared, woke up in an unknown place," the Lady offered.

"No, it should have figured out in wasn't home after three or four times, I think," another countered.

"Where was it?" Cathy asked. "It woke me up too."

"Over where you are and inside your trailer? It woke you up?" Came a question back at her.

"Yes," Cathy answered. "I heard it."

"I didn't hear a thing," I surprised the group. "I slept like a baby." My smile did not make me any friends.

"No," Ted explained. "You slept like an adult. That baby slept like a baby!"

Earlier in the morning, when all was quiet - except for the snoring from countless tents - The Lady and I walked the area and enjoyed watching the sun's fight to break through the fog. The sun lost. The tide was out and most of Bodega Bay was mud flats.

The Lady led the group across the dunes in search of the Pacific.

We found the ocean and a nearly deserted beach.

Seabirds, especially Brown Pelicans, fed on schools of fish.

We were surprised by the number of Dungeness Crabs on the beach.

Ted pointed out to us that they were females. The surf flipped them over leaving many belly up.

We found several buried in the wave swept sand.

We rescued several and attempted to return them to the ocean. I was reminded that crab walk sideways...........................

This was one of my favorite songs from my youth with a punch line perfect for this weekend at Westside Campground.

At the south end of the beach we found a solitary young man up on the rocks above the water, shirtless and wearing shorts. He forgot his long johns also, or maybe he was mermaid bait.

The fog broke off for a few minutes.

An equestrian group, mostly kids, rode out onto the beach.

We laid out on the sand, listened to the sounds of the ocean, the seabirds, and felt the wind. We had escaped the heat.

The fog returned and we turned and headed north.

Ted found an abandoned cart with tires far too narrow for sand. It made a good teeter-totter. Ted worked on his balance.

We passed another group on horseback.

A couple massive structures built from driftwood are along this section of beach.

Ted found the captain's chair and took the helm.

Ted barked orders with a perfect Captain Kirk impression. I answered back with my best Scotty. This starship would break free from the sand and race to the stars, maybe even with a couple of humpback whales aboard - "I'm giving her all she's got Captain!"  The women folk quickly moved away and up the beach.

There were so many things that caught our eyes as we slowly walked the beach. A pile of kelp was covered with yellow ladybug like beetles I have not yet identified.

We exited the beach at the northern end of Bodega Dunes State Park. We sat on the walkway and people watched - yes, the Lady was greeted by a former student, they are everywhere. Kids were taking their first steps, kites were flying, a few braved the cold ocean, pixels were eaten up by selfies, and one poor crab was secreted away into an ice chest. "Out of season and a female," Ted noted. "Not good."

We returned to camp late afternoon. The wind was brisk and cold. The Lady and I spend most of our camping time away from people. These close quarters made me especially nervous. People - adults and kids - walked through our campsite. There was continuous movement and noise. No way not to be on edge.

Ted, what a great friend, distracted me with education about his newest craft beer.

Ted explained that IPA's can be hazy and that a hop rich beer is referred to as "juicy."

I must confess that my mind wandered. Since we are not making America great again, heading over to the juicy side might not be a bad idea. I was intrigued by the name and research showed that Heretic Brewing has many more colorful craft brews.

If I drank beer, in this campground, I believe I would have downed Heretic's Shallow Grave Porter.

Saturday dinner was a potluck. Ted was grilling up a batch of Halibut cheeks. Cathy thought he was cooking butt cheeks and didn't think she could eat them. We provided salad and Cathy sautéed mushrooms. Ted livened up our afternoon with stories about halibut starting out as regular upright fish but then change into flat fish with migrating eyes and cheeks, and confirmed these were facial cheeks we would be dining on.  

With the cold wind, we all gathered around the table in Cathy's trailer. Good dinner, conversation, and laughter, held back the reality of Westside Campground in July. At least until we exited the trailer. It was Saturday night. Completing for attention were barking dogs, the wailing baby, alcohol driven partying. This was not the outdoors. Hell, the din was so loud it covered the roar of generators.

The Teds had had enough. "We're out of here!"  They apologized for leaving in the night but we more than understood. "I tried ear plugs," Ted explained. "No luck with that."

We stayed and Cathy stayed. I even heard the baby in the middle of the night.

Sunday morning was still. The fog was heavy on the land. Julie and I, with our mugs of Peets coffee, went for a long walk in the blessed quiet of dawn.

The women folk, Cathy and the Lady, were treated to blueberry pancakes with fried eggs. Their personal chef did his best. The campground was coming to life with the sounds of pulling up stakes and packing vehicles. The young mother with her toddler - yes, that baby - on their return from the bathroom stopped right in front of us as we ate. "Wave and say hi to the nice people," she directed her son.

We encountered the same stop and go traffic on our drive home as we did traveling to Bodega Bay, just far too many vehicles for the infrastructure. It was about as much fun as the campground. Our friends were wonderful to be with, so a big thank you to them for the get together.

Addition: I served six years on a Federal Advisory Committee that approved (or disapproved) changes to recreation fees on federal lands. This included federal campgrounds fees (Westside is a Sonoma County campground, not federal). During my service I learned all about campgrounds. The two biggest complaints that campers have are dogs and campground group size limits. Here at Westside Campground the limit per campsite is 8 people. That means total people in the campsite, not how many are staying overnight there. It is seldom enforced, an issue not worth stirring up trouble about, especially if a single camp host or authority approaches a large group. When it is not enforced you end up with 15 to 20 people in one site eating, drinking, and partying together. Many times these are family reunions where several campsites are reserved and everyone gathers at one campsite. Fun, unless you are the poor soul in the next campsite. Add cigarettes, alcohol, kids, music, dogs, and it is ugly chaos.

Grizzly, moose, rattlers, we'll take them any day over the campground from hell.