Bill cooked a ton of bacon and we ate it with eggs.
Camping without kids is a different kind of nice. There seem to be so many more hours in the day. Bill took two naps, we walked through the woods to the creek (together this time) and the tom turkey startled us on the way back. The camp host told us later that he was extra proud this year, having doubled his hens from one to two.
I didn’t know turkeys could move so fast. I didn’t know they were so BIG.
We quickly decided on another path and I chose and carried a sturdy turkey stick.
For the rest of our stay Bill took great pleasure in hiding out of sight and making turkey gobbles.
No worries, I had my stick.
More hammock time, more river, more reading, more naps.
For dinner we cooked hot dogs over a second great campfire. Briquets helped the soggy wood dry out and we got some nice coals.
I used a Myrtle sucker as a hot dog stick. It smelled great in the fire but I didn’t notice any difference in taste.
Partly charred hot dog is just as joyous now as it is in my memory.
We experimented with dry Myrtle leaves. They burn in a quick hurry.
Beautiful sunny day. After another granola breakfast (and more awful coffee). I learned to hook Brave Horatio up to LuluBelle and we headed north to say goodbye to dad before turning south down the coast to the Rogue River and Quosatana Creek (Ka-saint-nee).
Dad walked downstairs and had a quick teardrop tour. He’s walking much less gingerly. We stopped to see mom at work and were on our way.
We stopped for great coffee at Floras Creek Coffee Company in Langlois and enjoyed the residual gossip. The library board had just fired some friends of the library. Small towns-big doings.
We poked into Cape Blanco to look at the lighthouse. I love the Sixes River and the view of the mouth you get on the road to the lighthouse. The farm on the north side of the river near the mouth is one of my favorites.
We stopped at Humbug Mountain and took photos of a big clump of trillium. I thought about all the people who’d been up the trail to the top of Humbug and once again resolved to do that hike—another day. We thought we’d have a picnic a little farther down the coast, but the wind made us decide to push on and eat lunch in camp.
More whale right in Port Orford. Tails, fins, and spouts. Cool!
We headed up the Rogue River. About half-way to Agnes, we found a great spot at Quosatana Creek (that’s Ka-saint-nee). Q-creek campground is in the middle of a Myrtlewood forest.
I grew up around Myrtle trees, but didn’t know they came in forests. Near Bandon, our Myrtles are usually proudly single or part of a small family. This was a whole, amazingly-wonderful smelling forest. Myrtles are broad-leaved, evergreen and almost nothing grows under them. Pretty interesting.
We set up and took sandwiches down to the river for a sunny and lovely lunch on the gravel bar.
The rest of the afternoon we napped and read in the hammock, watched the BIG tom turkey strut around the meadow, took solo walks to the creek, and lazed in the sunny warm.
We added the fennel from the riverbank to foil packets of potatoes and roasted them in the coals. The grill from Gerald and Carol worked great for steaks topped with Myrtle leaves, and we enjoyed the quiet dark. There were only three or four other people in the entire campground so we had a loop to ourselves.
Brave Horatio continues to make a comfortable nighttime nest.