Brontophobia

 

The wet weather continued as my little dog Fred and I arrived in Bend. The plan was to take a break for a bit at a private campground before heading south.

I set up camp in “rain mode”, consisting of a 10x12 tarp attached to the side of the trailer with a pole in the middle. It works quite well.

After a couple of days the skies cleared and we decided to have a campfire. Fred volunteered to fetch firewood while I made dinner.

I assumed he would just be dragging back little sticks but the boy surprised me with his ingenuity.

Yep, he used my sawzall.

I told him what a good boy he was and gave him a little scratch behind his ear. Suddenly the sky erupted with a loud CRACK BOOM.

Fred jumped straight up, a good two inches, let out a tiny yip, and then scurried under my car.

I walked over and leaned down.

“What’s the matter?” I asked.

“Brontophobia” he muttered.

I had to look it up. Brontophobia. An unreasonable fear of thunder and lightning. Quite common in small plastic dogs it seems.

I tried to coax him out but to no avail. I went back and grabbed the sandwich I had been making for dinner. I held it out in my hands. He sniffed and then jumped on it. I carried them both back to the table.

After feasting, we settled around the campfire.

I had to repeatedly warn him not to get too close. Didn’t want him to melt.

With the weather forecast showing continued rain and temps in the 50’s, I decided to move out. Just a little more sun and a little more heat. That’s all I was asking to find.

There are two popular recreation areas on either side of Crater Lake National Park, Diamond Lake and Lake of the Woods. Both offer multiple campgrounds and a resort.

But there was a problem. Both areas are situated at a little over 5000 feet of elevation. Both had been dry for two days after quite a bit of rain.

Experienced campers know what that means.

Friggin mosquitos! Giant thick black hordes of them.

I managed to get a picture of the sign at each spot before they found me and attacked. No way was I going to set up camp at either place.

Frustrated, I drove another few hundred miles south into California.

And right into a heat wave.

From 50 degrees to 100+.

Yeah.

I limped into Woodson Bridge State Recreation Area.

The park is located 6 miles east of Corning on the Sacramento River.

Luckily, the 37 sites are shaded, like mine, number 7.

8, 9, 13, 26, and 31 were other nice ones.

That’s not rain. The hosts were watering the campground. Probably hadn’t heard about the drought. Probably should avoid watering asphalt.

Being the fool that I am I decided to go on a short hike to the river.

There is great fishing in this stretch of the river. Shad were darting around in the riffles when I was there and at other times of the year you can expect to catch salmon and steelhead.

Right next to the state land is a county park with a boat ramp.

And the aptly named Woodson Bridge with a beach below.

The shade felt good. The campground will run you $28 per night. There are showers (pay of course, this is California) but there are no hookups.

I needed some hookups to recharge batteries so I resumed my abbreviated break at another private campground near Oregon House.

I had noticed a slow leak in my right rear tire over the past few days. I carry an air pump, so it wasn’t that big a deal, but I decided to get it fixed.

So that is how I found myself in Yuba City in 105 degrees of sweltering heat.

On my birthday.

Turns out a rock splinter somehow pushed it’s way into my tire.

In a couple I days I will resume my trip, heading to Lake Tahoe and other camps in the mountains. I spoke to my dad while waiting for the tire repair and told him about the temperature swing from 50 to 100.

He said “Well, that’s an average of 75 degrees”.

Smartass.

75 and sunny. That is all I am asking for. Just once would be nice.

Regards,

Greg