2014-2, February: Shakedown Cruise, or Whidbey Island to Home in the MRV
We have the MRV ( “merv”), that is, Marilyn’s RV. After flying to Seattle from home (Visalia, CA), spending time with my lovely daughter and son-in-law and wandering around Seattle, then shopping to outfit the RV (oh how I dislike those two letters, sounds as if I am bordering on ancient), we were ready for the next chapter.
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The RV’s owner, J.R., a former flying buddy, wanted a bigger “rig” so he can begin full-time RVing. He’d called and offered us the MRV, and since Marilyn finds the bus a bit uncomfortable after her recent spine surgery (for now at least) it seemed the thing to do.
What to say about the MRV? It’s a 2004 Pleasure-Way Excel, a 20-foot monster, complete with generator (who said to run one of those is evil?—ME!). It has 3 water tanks: fresh water, 20 gallons; gray water (shower and sink), 20 gallons; and black water (dirty) 16 gallons. Add a 3-way refrigerator, microwave, king-size bed, water heater, and house heater, and you have a second home on wheels.
As we begin moving all the stuff that filled the interior of the bus into the MRV, I am amazed. It vanishes into the cabinets, and there seems to still be more room.
Next, it is off to the local campground with J.R. to get a lesson in RV dumping. I pass, with marginal colors. We fill the MRV up with gas and are ready for our next adventure: to drive it home down the Pacific Coast—in February.
Loaded with equipment and supplies, full of water and with empty holding tanks, we are off. First stop is the ferry to Port Townsend.
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Visiting Whidbey Island is great, but add the ferry ride to Port Townsend and you have just won the lottery. We’d made a reservation which put us on the first ferry south, and soon we are warming over coffee at the Wooden Boat Chandlery in Port Townsend.
After wandering the streets, stopping in a shop where I select yarn that Marilyn will knit into a beanie for me, and soaking up the crystal clear air, vistas, great vibes, and what would turn out to be our last sun in over a week, it’s decision time: to go to Aberdeen, WA south via the Hood Canal or west around the Olympic Peninsula via Forks. We decide on the former, and after lingering as long as we can, it is off on our Road Trip.
The drive to Aberdeen is beautiful, with the Hood Canal and Mt. Rainier on our left. It is only eventful when we take a wrong turn near Sheldon, but soon we are on our way to our first Boondocking experience in the MRV.
Now VW campers call pulling off the road to spend the night Stealth Camping, while RVers refer to it as Boondocking, but it basically is the same. As someone put it, camping is where you put out your camp chairs; boondocking is where you stay inside.
We stop at the Aberdeen Walmart where the manager recommends we move a bit to the east and park in the adjacent lot, due to the construction work. It’s a good find as we are next to a Goodwill that is full of great books, including Kerouac’s On the Road. Though I usually travel with a bag of books, since we had flown to Seattle, I'd had to put off getting some reading material, which would turn out to be definitely necessary at our next stop.
As we drive along the Columbia River, approaching the bridge that crosses to Astoria—a most wondrous bridge that I recommend to all—the flurries become more frequent.
After a white-knuckles transit, we decide not to stop in Astoria but go to Fort Stevens State Park just down the road. We serendipitously stop en route to fill the pantry, not realizing how isolated we are soon to become.
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Next morning: white-out, snow. Wow, are we snowed in? The weather report talks of 101 South being down to one lane due to accidents.
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The road out of the campground, which is never plowed, has a couple of nice ascents that are quite slippery.
It snows the next three days as we hunker down in the MRV, finding it roomy as long as we accept the fact that only one person can be up at any time.
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The catalytic heater we've brought with us is satisfactory, but it creates a lot of moisture, so we decide we need a small electric heater.
Fortunately, a friend of a friend comes to our rescue. Dick Lang, a retired Coast Guard ship driver, readily agrees to pick me up in his four-wheel drive truck, complete with studded tires, and take me to get a heater. I am so indebted to Dick, who seemed on a mission: it did not stop snowing, the roads were a bit icy, and small heaters seemed to be extinct. When we are told at the first store that they are sold out, he just says, "Let’s go find another." At the third store we score: we have a small heater.
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That night, all is toasty. I must add though, the heater runs most of the night, and I awake to it being rather brisk inside the MRV. I just write it off to freezing weather, yet when I return from my shower, I observe the vent on the roof completely open. Seems Marilyn “closed” the vent before we went to bed. Well at least she thought she did. Another one of those joys of getting used to something new.
We were "snowed in" for four days. Snow is unusual here so they're not set-up for removal and de-icing roads.
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I did many hikes in the snow and spent hours enjoying my books.
Marilyn read and recorded our adventure for the blog.
Finally we break out and are headed south. At Tillamook, snow turns into rain—which follows us for the next five days. In all we visit four more Oregon state campgrounds, finding them to be clean, near the ocean, and very economical, about $22 a night with full hook-ups.
But Shakedown Cruise rears its ugly head again: it seems we have a roof leak and are taking in a bit of water—fortunately, not over the bed. In Florence, OR, where it rains rather hard all night, I find it pouring into the cabinet under the kitchen sink. Armed with plastic containers, I attempt to catch it but soon realize it is coming in behind the cabinet. Pleasure-Way, in keeping things nice, installed a “wall” at what appears to be the back of the cabinet, yet there is another six inches to the exterior of the body, and that is where the water is dripping. As the screws holding the cabinet are neither Phillips nor slot, I am forced to literally tear the backing off, allowing me to get a container directly under the drips. Fortunately, I am able to clean up the water, and throughout the night I just get into a routine of draining the containers.
As the forecast is for more rain, we seek out help in the form of Keith’s RV Repair. Keith is a professional RV technician in Florence who not only is willing to help right then but is a wealth of knowledge besides. He cleans up some bad caulking, and as we are waiting for it to dry, he goes in search of the problem of the house battery not charging. Ten minutes later he pulls out a burned-out 30-amp fuse, telling me, “It’s my lucky day.” He replaces the fuse, and we have a functioning house battery the rest of the trip, meaning we can use the house heater, but by then we are enjoying our little electric heater. An hour later we are on the road, hoping all is well.
Unfortunately, though the water leak is less, it will continue to plague us until we get home and I am able to locate a damaged eve. En route we learn how to position the various containers to catch any water and so feel rather comfortable.
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Then it’s down 101 to Arcata to enjoy their old town and impressive bookstores. After lingering too long, we finally make our way south with the idea of stopping in Leggett, but soon CA Hwy 1 seems to be pulling.
As it begins to grow dark, the MRV navigates the windy stretch to the ocean without much trouble.
Once on the coast, we encounter dense coastal fog, which joining the rather dark night makes us desirous of finding a place for the night. The first campground, a private one, is over $40 for just a flat piece of dirt, so off we drive until I spy an RV camped off the road in a rather large area. I have stopped along that area a few times in the VW bus, so with a quick nod from Marilyn, I pull in. We are lulled to sleep by the wind and the waves. I must say, I needed this. I had told folks I would treat the MRV as if it were the bus, but until I actually was able to camp stealthily, it had just been talk.
Next morning we quietly leave the other RV and drive south on Hwy 1 with our destination Bodega Bay, a town where Marilyn's parents lived for years. Driving from Fort Bragg to Bodega is another enjoyable journey. The rain is behind us, the sky is blue, and the ocean is calm—a rather great day to make the run.
As we travel that area often, we have our favorite coffee shop in Ft. Bragg, Headlands Coffeehouse.
Coffee acquired and a walk about town, it's time to continue down the Coast.
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We stop for a photo op at Point Arena Lighthouse...
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...and another break.
Then it's on to another favoroite coffee shop, Blue Canoe in Anchor Bay.
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On we go until that afternoon we arrive in Bodega Bay. There we camp in a real RV park, Porto Bodega, complete with mega RVs, large fifth wheels, and the realization that we are the smallest rig in sight.
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Our final night on the road is magical as we watch the sun go down over the bay.
The next morning it’s reality, time to make the run home, for that night we are to babysit Marilyn’s new granddaughter, but that is another story, one I can say is rather pleasurable in its own way.
Thanks for following us, we look forward to posting more stories as we follow our noses around this great country.
—Doug
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The MRV waiting for us at JR's on Whidbey Island.
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View east to Cascades from JR's home on Whidbey Island, WA.
I must admit I found it rather ironic that we drove north to Whidbey Island on MRV-pick-up day chauffeured by our friend Tim in his VW bus loaded with our “finds." Four decades of wandering around the country in various VW buses, and now I was “upgrading” to an RV?
MRV Shake-down Cruise: Seattle to Visalia
The RV’s owner, J.R., a former flying buddy, wanted a bigger “rig” so he can begin full-time RVing. He’d called and offered us the MRV, and since Marilyn finds the bus a bit uncomfortable after her recent spine surgery (for now at least) it seemed the thing to do.
What to say about the MRV? It’s a 2004 Pleasure-Way Excel, a 20-foot monster, complete with generator (who said to run one of those is evil?—ME!). It has 3 water tanks: fresh water, 20 gallons; gray water (shower and sink), 20 gallons; and black water (dirty) 16 gallons. Add a 3-way refrigerator, microwave, king-size bed, water heater, and house heater, and you have a second home on wheels.
Sitting in the rear of the MRV, which converts electrically (!!!) to a king-size bed.
As we begin moving all the stuff that filled the interior of the bus into the MRV, I am amazed. It vanishes into the cabinets, and there seems to still be more room.
Next, it is off to the local campground with J.R. to get a lesson in RV dumping. I pass, with marginal colors. We fill the MRV up with gas and are ready for our next adventure: to drive it home down the Pacific Coast—in February.
Loaded with equipment and supplies, full of water and with empty holding tanks, we are off. First stop is the ferry to Port Townsend.
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In line for ferry from Coupeville, Whidbey Island, to Port Townsend.
Visiting Whidbey Island is great, but add the ferry ride to Port Townsend and you have just won the lottery. We’d made a reservation which put us on the first ferry south, and soon we are warming over coffee at the Wooden Boat Chandlery in Port Townsend.
Marilyn & MRV, Port Townsend.
After wandering the streets, stopping in a shop where I select yarn that Marilyn will knit into a beanie for me, and soaking up the crystal clear air, vistas, great vibes, and what would turn out to be our last sun in over a week, it’s decision time: to go to Aberdeen, WA south via the Hood Canal or west around the Olympic Peninsula via Forks. We decide on the former, and after lingering as long as we can, it is off on our Road Trip.
The drive to Aberdeen is beautiful, with the Hood Canal and Mt. Rainier on our left. It is only eventful when we take a wrong turn near Sheldon, but soon we are on our way to our first Boondocking experience in the MRV.
Now VW campers call pulling off the road to spend the night Stealth Camping, while RVers refer to it as Boondocking, but it basically is the same. As someone put it, camping is where you put out your camp chairs; boondocking is where you stay inside.
We stop at the Aberdeen Walmart where the manager recommends we move a bit to the east and park in the adjacent lot, due to the construction work. It’s a good find as we are next to a Goodwill that is full of great books, including Kerouac’s On the Road. Though I usually travel with a bag of books, since we had flown to Seattle, I'd had to put off getting some reading material, which would turn out to be definitely necessary at our next stop.
We had called this journey our “Shakedown Cruise,” going off in a foreign contraption just awaiting the first situation to arise. Well, a situation came rather quickly. We are sitting in the parking lot with the heater on and the temperature quickly moving to below freezing outside, and bells begin to chirp. Marilyn grabs the instruction manual and says it seems our house battery, the battery that runs all the “stuff,” must be dead and I have to turn it off. We locate the off switch, but now we are without heat. Suffice it to say our sleeping bags, extra blankets, and faux-down comforter do the deed.
The next morning, I venture out in the biting wind to pick up a catalytic heater for “just in case.”
The next morning, I venture out in the biting wind to pick up a catalytic heater for “just in case.”
Next stop is Astoria, OR, one of our favorite towns. As we drive south, we begin to encounter rain and then some mild snow flurries. To seasoned winter drivers this is nothing to bother about, but to a California native driving a monster, it is a bit interesting.
Icy hillsides en route to Astoria, OR.
As we drive along the Columbia River, approaching the bridge that crosses to Astoria—a most wondrous bridge that I recommend to all—the flurries become more frequent.
Snowy Astoria Bridge across Columbia River.
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Fort Stevens State Park, Astoria, OR.
Next morning: white-out, snow. Wow, are we snowed in? The weather report talks of 101 South being down to one lane due to accidents.
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The next morning...
The road out of the campground, which is never plowed, has a couple of nice ascents that are quite slippery.
Campground road.
It snows the next three days as we hunker down in the MRV, finding it roomy as long as we accept the fact that only one person can be up at any time.
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Plugging in "shore" power at our camp site.
The catalytic heater we've brought with us is satisfactory, but it creates a lot of moisture, so we decide we need a small electric heater.
Fortunately, a friend of a friend comes to our rescue. Dick Lang, a retired Coast Guard ship driver, readily agrees to pick me up in his four-wheel drive truck, complete with studded tires, and take me to get a heater. I am so indebted to Dick, who seemed on a mission: it did not stop snowing, the roads were a bit icy, and small heaters seemed to be extinct. When we are told at the first store that they are sold out, he just says, "Let’s go find another." At the third store we score: we have a small heater.
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We were "snowed in" for four days. Snow is unusual here so they're not set-up for removal and de-icing roads.
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Trail to the beach.
1906 wreck of the Peter Iredale.
Marilyn read and recorded our adventure for the blog.
Marilyn at work with ipad mini & bluetooth keyboard in the back of the MRV. Catalytic heater on floor on right.
Finally we break out and are headed south. At Tillamook, snow turns into rain—which follows us for the next five days. In all we visit four more Oregon state campgrounds, finding them to be clean, near the ocean, and very economical, about $22 a night with full hook-ups.
Typical Oregon Coast view.
Marilyn relaxing on the MRV's passenger seat, turned 180°. Kitchen on right.
But Shakedown Cruise rears its ugly head again: it seems we have a roof leak and are taking in a bit of water—fortunately, not over the bed. In Florence, OR, where it rains rather hard all night, I find it pouring into the cabinet under the kitchen sink. Armed with plastic containers, I attempt to catch it but soon realize it is coming in behind the cabinet. Pleasure-Way, in keeping things nice, installed a “wall” at what appears to be the back of the cabinet, yet there is another six inches to the exterior of the body, and that is where the water is dripping. As the screws holding the cabinet are neither Phillips nor slot, I am forced to literally tear the backing off, allowing me to get a container directly under the drips. Fortunately, I am able to clean up the water, and throughout the night I just get into a routine of draining the containers.
Keith of Keith's RV Repair & Doug.
As the forecast is for more rain, we seek out help in the form of Keith’s RV Repair. Keith is a professional RV technician in Florence who not only is willing to help right then but is a wealth of knowledge besides. He cleans up some bad caulking, and as we are waiting for it to dry, he goes in search of the problem of the house battery not charging. Ten minutes later he pulls out a burned-out 30-amp fuse, telling me, “It’s my lucky day.” He replaces the fuse, and we have a functioning house battery the rest of the trip, meaning we can use the house heater, but by then we are enjoying our little electric heater. An hour later we are on the road, hoping all is well.
Taking a break at Back to the Best, Reedsport, OR.
Eclectic & warm Back to the Best.
Our final Oregon campsite is Harris Beach State Park near Brookings, another lovely site on the coast.
The next morning we continue down the coast, still in the rain.
Brookings, OR.
Marilyn & the MRV in Brookings, OR.
Crescent City Harbor, just across stateline from OR.
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Battery Point Lighthouse, Crescent City.
101 south of Crescent City.
South of Fortuna, where 101 heads inland around the Lost Coast.
Did someone say it's raining?
101 through Redwood National & State Parks.
Then it’s down 101 to Arcata to enjoy their old town and impressive bookstores. After lingering too long, we finally make our way south with the idea of stopping in Leggett, but soon CA Hwy 1 seems to be pulling.
Crossing South Fork of Eel River at Leggett from 101 to 1.
As it begins to grow dark, the MRV navigates the windy stretch to the ocean without much trouble.
Hwy 1 from 101 at Leggett to Coast.
In the MRV in the rain in the dark on Hwy 1's steep windy road from 101 to 1.
Once on the coast, we encounter dense coastal fog, which joining the rather dark night makes us desirous of finding a place for the night. The first campground, a private one, is over $40 for just a flat piece of dirt, so off we drive until I spy an RV camped off the road in a rather large area. I have stopped along that area a few times in the VW bus, so with a quick nod from Marilyn, I pull in. We are lulled to sleep by the wind and the waves. I must say, I needed this. I had told folks I would treat the MRV as if it were the bus, but until I actually was able to camp stealthily, it had just been talk.
Next morning we quietly leave the other RV and drive south on Hwy 1 with our destination Bodega Bay, a town where Marilyn's parents lived for years. Driving from Fort Bragg to Bodega is another enjoyable journey. The rain is behind us, the sky is blue, and the ocean is calm—a rather great day to make the run.
As we travel that area often, we have our favorite coffee shop in Ft. Bragg, Headlands Coffeehouse.
Fort Bragg, CA.
Fort Bragg.
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Hwy 1 bridge over Navarro River.
We stop for a photo op at Point Arena Lighthouse...
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MRV at Point Arena Lighthouse.
...and another break.
Taking a break at Point Arena.
Then it's on to another favoroite coffee shop, Blue Canoe in Anchor Bay.
Relaxation, coffee, & books at Blue Canoe.
Blue Canoe courtyard.
Continuing south on 1.
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Ever wonder how close Hwy 1 is to thePacific?
On we go until that afternoon we arrive in Bodega Bay. There we camp in a real RV park, Porto Bodega, complete with mega RVs, large fifth wheels, and the realization that we are the smallest rig in sight.
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Camped on Bodega Bay Harbor.
Due to our size, we are able to enjoy a camp site right on the bay, with the docks at our back. It’s our most expensive site at $33, but factoring in $0 the night before when we boondocked/stealthed, it seems rather reasonable.
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Our final night on the road is magical as we watch the sun go down over the bay.
Looking across Bodega Bay at low tide to Bodega Head.
The next morning it’s reality, time to make the run home, for that night we are to babysit Marilyn’s new granddaughter, but that is another story, one I can say is rather pleasurable in its own way.
Arrived at the other grandparents' home for "Four Grandparents & a Baby" while the parents are out.
MRV meets VW.
MRV essentials.
Thanks for following us, we look forward to posting more stories as we follow our noses around this great country.
—Doug
Welcome to life in a "Big Rig", love your story telling ability. Keep it up. See you soon I hope as we are heading to Pismo Beach this Monday.
ReplyDeleteGood Stuff! Reminds me of the Blue Highways book with the details of the trip.
ReplyDelete