Drive, Ride, Repeat: The Mostly-True Account of a Cross-Country Car and Bicycle Adventure by Al Macy - HTML preview

PLEASE NOTE: This is an HTML preview only and some elements such as links or page numbers may be incorrect.
Download the book in PDF, ePub, Kindle for a complete version.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Forty-Four

Good Luck is Bad Luck

 

 

May 31, 2009—Bully Creek to Collier Memorial State Park: OK, so you remember the grungy bathroom/shower from the last chapter?

When I awoke around 5 AM and went to the bathroom, I discovered a guy sleeping on the peeling-paint bench right by the shower. I know what you're thinking: "Aw, poor homeless man is so desperate that he's sleeping in the foul bathroom." No, this was a normal, clean-cut 20-something in a bathing suit and T-shirt. He woke up when I walked in, and I asked him "Was it too cold in your tent?"

"No," he said, "I couldn't find my campsite!" He got up stretched, and walked off, saying, "Boy, that's a bad night when you go camping, and can't find your campsite." Think alcohol was involved?

The sun was just coming up, and I got the pancakes going by the time Lena got out of the tent.

Today was strength-training day, which included barbell squats using Lena's 300-pound duffel while the tent dried out. Then we packed up and headed off.

We had thought we'd had great luck in finding a campground soon after dinner even though none showed on the map. But it turned out it was bad luck, because if we hadn't seen the Bully Creek Reservoir site, we would have stopped at a dreary, depressing private campground a few miles further on.

So, I know what you're thinking now: Al. That doesn't make sense. Why would it be bad luck to stay at a nice campground, and good luck to stay at a dreary, depressing campground?

Well, here's the answer: Because at the dreary campground, there was big lightning strike, right across the road, and we could have had a front-row seat! We stopped here for ice, and the campground owner showed us the tree that had been struck by lightning the night before.

The strike came right down the side of the tree, exploding off the bark and sending it flying hundreds of feet away. That would have been loud. How often does one get to experience something like that? Well, win some, lose some.

Knowing that lightning doesn’t strike twice, we pushed on and crossed most of Oregon. The central part of this state is surprisingly scenic, with dramatic canyons and lakes.

We saw a historical marker sign mentioning "The Perpetual Geyser" in Lakeview, so we kept our eyes open.

Although we saw “The Perpetual Geyser” on the map, when we got to Lakeview, there were no signs for it. We found it anyway, this lone geyser in Oregon, just on the side of a small road, with a fence around it to keep people from burning themselves. It was actually better than Old Faithful, because it went off every 90 seconds or so. Best geyser of the trip.

That night we stayed at the world’s best-maintained campground, Collier Memorial State Park. For example, the fire ring is vacuumed out after each guest. This despite signs saying “Due to lack of funds, we have cut back on maintenance.”

We prepared some dinner-sized breakfast burritos, and ate our dinner bathed in smoke—something we were getting a little tired of.

When some heavy rain started, we retired and slept with great confidence in the waterproof properties of our tent. It was a little sad because this would be the last night of camping on the trip. But just a little.