Wandering the West – June 2023 – Part One

 

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First Stop – Chilcoot, California

 

We left home shortly after dawn. Our route north took us along the west shore of Lake Tahoe. It does not escape us that we live in one of the most beautiful places on earth, and an area that many think of as their dream vacation destination. The drive around and above Emerald Bay is jaw droppingly stunning. It sure was this quiet early morning. Just before intersecting with highway 395 to continue north, we stopped at the general store in Chilcoot for gas. I pulled up to an open gas pump. The other pump was being used by a couple filling small gas cans in the bed of their pickup. It was obvious they had a day of yard work ahead for them. The Lady headed for the restroom as I inserted our credit card into the pump. The display read, “Not ready, please wait.”

I waited and then tried again.

“Not ready, please wait.”

The couple filling their gas cans were occupied so I didn’t interrupt them to ask if their pump had been ready. The Lady returned and saw my puzzlement.

“I’m going inside,” I said, “and see how I can fill the tank.”

It is an older building. It fits well with being a general store. The door hinges squeak and the wood floor creaks. There was a young man immediately to the left behind a food counter. I approached him and started my story.

“I want to fill up with gas. When I inserted my card, the screen on the pump read, ‘Not ready, please wait.’”

“Not ready, please wait?” the fellow repeated. “I’ve never heard that one.”

“It’s a first for me too and, I expect, I’ve been using gas pumps much longer than you have. I did wait and gave it three tries. The pump reports it is still not ready.”

“Not ready, please wait,” he repeated again. “That’s kinda funny.”

“So how do I get gas?” I asked.

“Oh, I can’t do anything with the gas. You have to see the woman for that.” His eyes moved to the main counter in the center of the room where two women stood talking. I walked over to them. Not wanting to guess which one was “the woman”, I stopped a step or two away and announced, “Hey, I need help with the gas pump.” A young woman turned and asked, “How can I help?”

I explained, “I inserted my card and the pump screen says, ‘Not ready, please wait’.”

“Oh, it does that sometimes.”

“Yup, and it’s doing it now. How can I fill my tank? I’ll just leave you my card and I’ll pay with the card when I’m done?”

“Oh, I can’t make the pump work that way,” the woman replied. “I have to run the card with an amount.”

“We just can’t settle up after I fill the tank?”

“No. I can’t work the pump like that.”

I looked at her. She was set in her ways.

“Pick an amount above what you think it will take to fill the tank,” she continued, “and I’ll put that on your card to start the pump. What’s the pump number you’re at?” she asked.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t notice any number on the pump.”

She just looked at me.

“Well,” I went on, “there’s only two pumps and I’m at the outside pump.”

“That’s pump two.”

“Pump two. I’ll remember that. Thanks. Put thirty dollars on the card.”

She handed me a receipt.

“And I’ll come back in and we’ll settle up about the difference?” I stated more than asked.

“Come back in when you’re done and we’ll settle up.”

The Lady was out by the truck when I returned. The pump had not been cleared and would not start.

“Julie, could you go inside and remind her to please start the pump?”

The pump started as soon as the Lady stood in the open doorway. The Lady waved, smiled, and said, “She remembered as soon as she saw me.”

Julie entered the store and looked about as I filled the tank. She returned just as I finished. The pump read, “$26.43.”

“I’m going inside and settle up with the woman.”

“She’s in the restroom,” the Lady told me. “She was moving fast. She didn’t have a book with her, but I think she’s gonna be in there for a while.”

“Okay” I rolled my eyes and said, “I’ll see if someone else can take care of it.”

I walked back in the store and to the main counter. The second woman asked how she could help as she turned to me. She was young, round, and very friendly. Her thick mop of hair was bobbed off even with the bottom of her chin. The right half was dyed red. The left half was jet black. I heard my mother’s voice in the back of my head but I could not help myself. I stared.

I recovered and explained, “I filled up with gas. The total is $26.43. I put $30 on my card here inside. We need to settle up about the difference. The pump said it was not ready when I first tried to pay outside.

“Oh,” she quickly replied, “I can’t do anything with the gas. You have to see the woman.” Her eyes moved about the building and she asked aloud, “Where is she?”

“She’s in the restroom,” I informed her. “My wife saw her moving fast and told me she didn’t have a book with her but she thinks she’ll be in the restroom a while.”

“She has been gone a long time.”

“I know.”

By this time the Lady had joined me inside.

“You should try our fudge,” the young woman suggested.

“Yup,” the Lady interrupted. “She told me that too, and about the cinnamon rolls.”

“The cinnamon rolls are good,” we heard her say behind us as we moved around to look about the general store.

 

We did two slow laps around the store as we waited for the woman to return. It is, indeed, a great old fashion general store. The grocery section is well stocked with quality items. It even has Henry Weinhard's Root Beer by the single bottle. The fishing section caters to the hardware chunkers and garden hackle tossers. They were fully stocked with Zeke’s trout bait. It made this old uppity fly caster shutter. In back was a counter for ordering food. A separate, simple room for dining was through an open doorway. An old wood stove sat against a wall. We felt like we were touching the pulse of the community. This was obviously where the old-timers hang out in the winter. We were on hallowed ground. This was where the fat was chewed and the shit was shot in Chilcoot.

 

We returned to the main counter. The woman returned, walked quickly across the room, and entered a small office. She closed the door behind her. A sign on the door read, “No Admittance.”  The Lady and I looked at each other.

“You know,” I said to the Lady, “we’re waiting around here for three dollars and fifty-seven cents?”

The Lady replied, “By this time it’s for the principle.”

I nodded I agreed.

The door opened. The woman approached and said, “The pump says $27.51 and you paid $30.”

I corrected her. “It was $26.43, pump two.”

“Oh,” she quickly replied and went on. “Do you want the difference credited to your card or would you like cash?”

“How ‘bout cash? That would work.”

She moved to the cash register and paused. “You know, now I remember, when I run the card and the pump like that it automatically adjusts your total. You’ll be charged only what the pump said.”

“And when I find it did not, what do I do?”

“Oh, you just come in and see me.”

I nodded, thought for a second, and added, “May I suggest, since you said you always have trouble with the pumps, you put a sign on the pump to immediately come inside if the card does not work, that the problem is common. If the other couple at pump one was not so occupied with filling their gas cans, and interested in a conversation, I might still be out there waiting for the pump to be ready.”

“Oh, we don’t need to do that,” she said with a smile, “Everybody ‘round here knows to just come inside.”

 

We returned home eighteen days later. We checked our credit card. It was charged $30 for the gas at Chilcoot. The amount had not been adjusted to $26.43. As the woman said, “Oh, you just come in and see me.” Perhaps we’ll try the fudge.

 

I have titled this post “Wandering the West.” The Lady suggested we not have a fixed set of plans for this trip. “We will enjoy freedom to decide as we go. If we see something that looks fun, let’s check it out!” Did we wander? Here’s the answer. We started in California and then we went into Oregon. From Oregon we went into Idaho, and then into Wyoming, into Colorado, into Utah, into Wyoming, into Utah, into Wyoming, into Utah, into Idaho, into Utah, into Idaho, into Oregon, into Nevada, into Oregon, and then back into California.

 

We spent our first night at Idyllwild Campground north of Burns, Oregon. We learned that this campground is a birders’ destination, a place to see White-headed Woodpeckers. They frequented the ponderosa pines above our campsite. I was more excited about the Pileated Woodpecker that greeted me at dawn, banging away in a high nearby ponderosa.

 

Our second night we stayed with our friends Steve and Diana at Fort Sagebrush near Baker City. Mr. Sage showed off the cannon he had recently acquired for the fort. Thank you both for your kindness and hospitality! Mr. Sage grills a great hamburger. And Mrs. Sage plays a mean game of Scrabble!

 

The following night, we planned on staying in the campground at Craters of the Moon National Monument . We arrived a little before four in the afternoon. The campground was crowded and did not look comfortable for us. When we asked the young woman in the kiosk about available campsites, she said the host just reported three open in the upper loop and three open in the lower loop. We drove through to check them out. We just could not stay here. The sites are close together and, for us, claustrophobic. We did not even drive both loops. We consulted our maps for possibilities more along our style. Far, far from anyone else, here is where we spent the night.

 

 

 

 

 

 

After set up, as is our habit, we explored and investigated our surroundings.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The wildflowers were outstanding. The fragrance of the lupine was almost overpowering.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tufted Wild Buckwheat (Eriogonum ovalifolium)

 

 

 

 

 

Rydberg’s penstemon (Penstemon rydbergii)

 

 

 

 

 

 

Arrowleaf Balsamroot (Balsamorhiza sagittata)

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wild Blue Flax (Linum lewisii)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After dinner we walked to investigate an old building.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The next morning was glorious after a spectacularly quiet night.

 

 

 

 

 

 

We came upon Pale Evening Primrose (Oenothera pallida)

 

 

 

 

 

We noticed something new as we drove up the Snake River Canyon just inside Wyoming. The Lady noticed it on our maps. It looked interesting so we crossed the narrow bridge over the Snake and pulled into the parking lot for the Astoria Hot Springs. The very friendly woman at the counter welcomed us to enter, take a look around, and ask any questions we might have.

 

We encountered rain and storms as we drove into Wyoming. A severe downpour hit us as we topped out on the divide between the Columbia River basin and the Colorado River basin north of Pinedale. As the storm tapered off, we decided to find and set up a campsite before we got hit again. We found a wonderful spot along the Green River.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Warren Bridge Hiking Trail runs along the west bank of the Green. It is very little used – except by grazing cattle – and we explored. There was quite a bit of evidence of moose in the area.

 

 

 

 

 

 

We watched fly fishers with pontoon boats float downriver.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Green is spectacular.

 

 

 

 

 

 

We were alone as we walked up the river, the Lady always on the lookout for moose.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Wind River Range stretched out before us to the east.

 

 

 

 

 

 

In the center of the above photo is the deep glacially carved gorge of the New Fork River. We have backpacked up the New Fork. It is an amazing place.

 

 

 

 

 

 

We returned to camp as darkness came. We were greeted by the happiest robin in the world. Perched in the top of a small fir tree, this robin sang for hours. Our movements about camp did not disturb it. It stayed in place atop the fir. It sang us to sleep and woke us at five the next morning.

 

 

The evening light was incredible and changed quickly.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It rained overnight. The sound of rain on the roof was comforting and lulled us into deeper slumber. The ground, grasses, and landscape were soaking wet when I exited the camper at dawn and the Lady launched into her morning fussing about inside. The robin, finished with its burst of morning reveille, was foraging on the ground pulling up worms. The early bird does, indeed, get the worms. A surprise was the robin would not let me pass. It stood its ground, looked me in the eyes, and chirped loudly. It even approached me, challenged me, defending its territory. I wisely backed off; no need to find out how vicious a robin can get. The robins were in charge along this section of the Green. 

 

Our friends, the Teds were in Wyoming. They had attended a Tiger Adventure Vehicle rally at Camp Hale in Colorado and then had spent three days in Cody, Wyoming. We received a text from them with a plan to meet up with us this afternoon in the South Pass area.

 

We arrived early and found the small Big Atlantic Gulch Campground nearly empty on this Saturday. The campsites were well spaced apart for privacy. It would do nicely.

 

 

 

 

 

The terrain was marvelous to wander through. The Lady and I walked and found pronghorn, sandhill cranes, beaver ponds, and, of course, wildflowers. Rain and storms were possible at any moment.

 

 

 

 

 

More Tufted Wild Buckwheat

 

 

 

 

 

A new one for us, Hooker’s Balsamroot (Balsamorhiza hookeri), was abundant and beautiful.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Heartleaf Arnica (Arnica cordifolia) covered the ground in the aspen groves.

 

 

 

 

 

Nuttall's Violet (Viola nuttallii)

 

 

 

 

 

Lambert’s Locoweed hugged the ground in the open terrain.

 

 

 

 

 

The Teds arrived while the Lady and I were out walking. Mrs. Ted joined us for a walk after dinner. Large mule deer moved through the sage above us as the day settled its way into night.

 

 

 

 

 

South Pass is a famous crossing of the Continental Divide and the Rocky Mountains. Although well known by the Native Americans, its first documented crossing by whites was in 1812 by members of Astor’s Pacific Fur Company. It was then used by Ashley’s and Sublette’s fur trappers – the celebrated Mountain Men. The first wagons crossed in 1832 with Captain Bonneville accompanied by Joseph Walker. Ten years later Lt. John C. Fremont crossed on his first topographical expedition. South Pass became the route of the Oregon and California Trails, along with the Pony Express Trail. The area also experienced a gold mining boom that began in 1867. This place is full of history.

 

We were here to delve into some of that history.

 

Note: as the Lady just helped me edit this post, she exclaimed over and over and over, "How could you not have taken a picture of the Death Camas (Zigadenus elegans). It was everywhere!"

 

Our story continues, please click here for - Part Two