My attitude was good early, but deteriorated as time went on. I was annoyed with myself more than anything. At the fact that I was watching long- awaited Oregon fly by thru the window of a car rather than at my own pace. 101's not like Hwy. 1 though; it doesn't quite go along the coast. It's within a mile or two, but in Oregon rarely do you see it. That helped me to quell my self- directed annoyance! I'm such a moody bitch.
We proceeded north, stopping periodically though less often than we had been. We eventually found a library in Newport and began doing some research on possible FREE places to camp. All three of us were sick of State Parks and all the people and KIDS that come with them. $16 to experience noisy, crowded conditions? No thanks. We had all enjoyed the site at Nickel Creek much more and hadn't paid... a nickel.
That's right. I'm a fuckin' comedian.
They found a promising place through the very (maybe overly) helpful librarian, but we were still a couple hours away and it was 4:00 or so, so we rushed out and found a place to get cigs & food, that also happened to be a post office. I send my extra crap off, bought another steak ($3.75), a soda, and a $5.50 pack of unfiltered cigs. I didn't realize I had paid that much until I got in the car and looked at the receipt... and how little money I had left in the wallet. That sort of set me off and set the tone for the next few days as it turned out. I called Laina and left a terse message to call me.
We got started north on 101 again and found the little community of Beaver, which was our turn off toward the campgrounds we was found in books back in Newport. The drive was cool and the houses became fewer and fewer.. then the recreation area started shortly after the hamlet of Blaine. We eventually found a couple of the campgrounds that were shockingly FULL! What the hell!
We continued down the dirt road and Eric and I decided to turn around and hunt out our own site. It didn't take long to find one. We parked near a truck that had pulled off, walked down the little path chatting with the people who were there collecting rocks for something, then spied a perfect site, complete with a rock- circled fire pit and enough of a clearing to set up tents.
We collected wood from the area for the fire, got it going and prepared to eat. The problem with this campsite was that in our stealthiness, we had no grill over the fire and I had bought a steak and they had hamburger to cook! We improvised quite nicely. I cooked my steak on 3 or 4 thick tree branches, and they used a rock and tin foil. None of us knew, really, what the hell we were doing, but we ate like kings in the woods.
They had bought a 12 pack back in Newport and Eric asked if I knew any card games. HA!!! Do I... I'm a legendary, historical figure in the chronicles of Hillsdale Co's. alcoholics. I showed them "Bullshit". We got a nice happy glow going quickly and shot the breeze for a few hours building and playing with the fire in this isolated piece of Oregon's back country. We LOVED it.
Lesson: a campsite's rating is diametrically opposed to how much it costs. Less= More.
I decided to try to sleep outside, not wanting to either set up OR tear down the tent. That would have worked, but for the first time in nearly three weeks, I began to feel raindrops and saw thunder-less lightning.
I quickly set up the tent, cussing my laziness, and slept like a brick, again.