#60: A Few More Stops in Arizona

Arizona was not yet in my rearview. I still had more to see and do there, such as an appointment at Airstream of Scottsdale.

I know, I’ve been to many Airstream locations. This time, it was just for a few small things. I wanted to ensure the Basecamp was in the best possible shape when I handed it over to the new owners. Just like a house, there are things to update, maintain, and fix before selling.

While the Basecamp was in the shop, Addie and I perused historic Scottsdale. I had been once before many years ago, and although I recognized a lot of it, even more of it seemed new and different. The historic section still felt small, authentic, and quaint, though.

Since I started traveling in November 2019, I had been looking forward to Sedona. Not only is Sedona incredibly scenic, but it’s also a spiritual vortex.

I scoped out some dispersed camping national forest land south of Sedona. We rolled in towards the end of the day and turned left onto a “road” that led to an area large enough for two or three campsites. When I got there, one RV camper was already there. Sometimes, in spots like these, people get annoyed when other campers set up too close. I am cautious of this and try to get as far away from others as possible. I made some dinner, caught the sunset, and turned in for the night. 

The following morning as Addie and I ventured out of the Airstream and got moving, a dog from the other campsite came running over to say hi. I swear this dog looked familiar. His owner was outside walking toward us, and I asked him for the dog’s name. He said, “Bella.” The name was familiar, and so was the man’s voice.

“Michael?” I said, squinting my eyes to see him.

“Sarah?” he responded as he continued to walk toward us.

Holy moly. It was my hiking buddy, Michael, who I met on a trailhead in New Mexico. We hiked that entire day together and since then had exchanged a few emails. What are the chances?

We smiled, laughed, embraced, and shared disbelief. Of all the states, areas, dispersed camping places, and roads in given camping places, we both chose the same one, at the same time. We caught up a bit and made plans to go for a hike with the dogs the following day. I was contemplating leaving this camping area, but I decided to stick around since Michael was there.

I made my way to town (West Sedona) for some housekeeping - laundry, groceries, etc. In the afternoon, Addie and I ventured to Uptown Sedona to do the touristy walk-around. It was exceptionally crowded the weekend I was there. The town is cute but catered to tourists. We sat on the patio of a Mexican restaurant, enjoyed a margarita, and people-watched. 

Michael and I met the following morning for our hike on Bell Trail in the Coconino National Forest. Conveniently, the trail was only a few miles from where we were camping. We chatted the entire 3.5 miles until rewarded with a stunning red rock canyon with ledges overlooking a clear water creek. We found a ridge on which to sit down, have a snack, and relax. 

When I solo hike, I usually don’t do a very good job of taking my time and taking it all in. This time, though, Michael and I hung out on this ledge for a few hours - meeting and chatting with others who came through, watching people jump into the water, and just being silent. It was a very memorable moment and one on which I will certainly reflect.

There were other, more renowned trails that I wanted to check out the next day. I knew these trails would have crowds, so I got an early start.

I kicked off with Cathedral Rock Trail. I arrived at the trailhead around 8 am, but the parking lot was full. Street parking was limited, but I got lucky and found someone leaving, so I snuck in his spot when I saw him getting out (I have no idea what time he got there if he was already done by 8 am!).

The reviews of this trail say that dogs are welcome but not advised to come because some areas are steep and difficult for dogs. I knew Addie would handle it, though. She is ridiculously agile and can jump and maneuver like a circus dog (actually, her breed was used as circus dogs in the past). It wasn’t a long trail, either. Not to brag (well, maybe a little), but my little munchkin made her way up and down this:

The masses of people were annoying, but the scenery was exquisite. The hike was also fun, as the terrain was varietal.

After trying a few other trailheads and not finding parking, I finally got a spot at the Broken Arrow Trail trailhead. Not surprisingly, it was packed with cars and visitors. This hike shared parts of its way with jeeps and mountain bikes, but I was glad I landed on it.

Addie and I departed the Sedona area the following morning and also said good-bye to Michael and Bella. We were sad to part but planned to keep in touch. Such is the life of nomads on the road!

I had one more stop in Arizona, which was the ever-so-iconic, Grand Canyon National Park.

#38: Mount Rainier National Park

Mount Rainier was the second of three national parks in Washington that we visited. After our ever-so-eventful experience at Olympic, I decided to drive Rainier and not worry about seeking out hikes. Numerous stressors were/are in the air: Addie's health, lack of mobile service, trouble finding campsites, and a fussy water heater in the Airstream. I didn't need one more thing to worry about, which was navigating Rainier's hiking situation (specifically with Addie, who is not allowed on trails).

Camping options around Mount Rainier were scarce. All the park campgrounds were reserved, and the only first-come, first-serve camping choice is tent-only. One of the most troubling factors was the lack of mobile service as I got into the area. I rely on apps to find camping, but obviously, apps are useless with no signal.

I spent a while driving to a few places I researched but couldn’t locate. I then had to go back into a service area to look up other options. Around dusk, I spotted some RVs through some trees off the main road. I turned around and took the first turn into the woods. This was lucky. It was a dispersed camping area that was annoyingly busy, but I could back into a spot between trees that worked - at least for one night. I would get up the next morning to find a more suitable place.

My stress level curbed some when I landed at La Wis Wis National Forest Campground. However, my stress level inflated again when I backed the Airstream into a post while settling into a spot. Not only did I back it up over the post, but also when I pulled forward trying to get it off (it was a short post just at the height of the bumper), a section of the bumper wholly detached. Awesome.

I was laughing at this point. This little mishap was nothing unfixable. I used duct tape to reattach what I could, and I went on with my day. We hiked around the campground area a little and hung out by the river.

After grieving the loss of the Airstream’s back bumper, Addie and I made our way to Mount Rainier National Park in the afternoon. Like many other national parks, there are multiple entrances.

I knew I wanted to get to the Sunrise section, which at the peak, is the highest point reachable by vehicle within the park. The road getting up to Sunrise, Sunrise Park Road, is only accessible in the warmer months, and as you drive up, you can’t resist pulling over at multiple points to take in the views.

The scenery from the top took my breath away. In my opinion, I was there at the best time of year, and the weather that day couldn’t have been any more perfect. Addie and I got some much-needed solitude up there, proving to us that you don’t always need to hike a park to get a lot out of it.

After a second night at La Wis Wis Campground, the next stop was to the park's Paradise section. The different areas provide various views of Mount Rainier. It's such a beautiful sight, though, so it never gets old.

At this time, not only did we have external issues with the Airstream (missing bumper), but we also had internal problems. My Truma water heater continued acting up. Sometimes it would work, and other times it wouldn’t. Since I had been dry camping for weeks by now, my next camping spot would need to have electrical hookups so I could troubleshoot.

Onward and upward towards Seattle, then to North Cascades National Park. In the back of my mind, I knew of the Airstream dealership in Seattle, so if I needed to, I could potentially get some help with the Truma there. I also needed to figure out how to fix the bumper. 

Homeownership (eye roll)...

#33: Mount Shasta & The Lost Coast

Mount Shasta

I had first heard about Mount Shasta years ago while working for Women’s Health magazine. At the time, we hosted an event there to stargaze. I didn’t attend, but Shasta has been on my list of places to visit since then. Not only is it said to be a spiritual vortex (similar to Sedona, AZ), but it’s also said to be, well, beautiful.

After picking up some groceries in town, I headed toward the Shasta-Trinity National Forest to a dispersed camping location I found on Campendium. This situation often happens: I read all the site reviews and determine whether or not I want to stay there, but sometimes I can’t make a final decision until I get there. This was one of those times.

The road to the original campsite was AWFUL. It was full of deep potholes, tight turns, and many, many large rocks - not conducive to a non-high-clearance SUV towing a trailer. The worst part was that I couldn’t turn around until I was down the road a few miles. I had to go four miles up and back on a dicey road, white-knuckled the entire time. No bueno.

On my way to the initial location, luckily I passed another camping area that looked decent. I saw other, larger travel trailers there, a telling sign that I could maneuver my way in safely. And that we did. Best of all, Addie seemed satisfied with our spot.

While here, Addie and I took some time to relax and “be.” We had been on the go-go-go for a while, and we needed some time to relax. We hiked some smaller trails to take in the area - it was stunning: blue skies, green pines, and crisp air - my happy place.

There was one other thing that stood out about my trip to Mount Shasta. Since Addie and I hung around the campsite more often than usual, we got friendly with some of the inhabitants at the time. One night while there, I was invited to a drum circle-type gathering. I didn’t necessarily want to go, but I had a “when in Rome” moment. It was…interesting. There were people around a fire playing different instruments, smoking weed, and conversing. I was certainly out of my comfort zone, but everyone was very welcoming.

The Lost Coast

In the first few months of my year on the road, my friend Jared, with whom I met up in Southern California, recommended that I go to The Lost Coast. I didn’t know what exactly it was, but I knew I needed to go after researching it.

I had to do a little snooping around online to understand where exactly “The Lost Coast” is and what it is. It’s a California coastline stretch that stretches from Shelter Cove to the south and Mattole River to the north. The land is underdeveloped, with no major roads or highways to get you there. It was named The Lost Coast in the 1930s after the area experienced depopulation. There are little to no signs of habitation. Let’s just say I made sure I had a full tank of diesel before heading there.

There are various access points and sections of The Lost Coast. Based on where I was camping, I started my exploration from a small town called Ferndale and headed south. I found the “entrance” right outside of town and headed for the unknown on a narrow, roughly paved road.

The long road wound through huge meadows, hills, and cattle. At times, the road turned into a single lane or dirt, and I wasn’t sure what was ahead. Eventually, coming over a large hill after driving for hours, I got a glimpse of the ocean. I was awestruck - it was a scene like nothing I had ever seen before. It was everything and nothing at the same time.

As soon as I could, I pulled over to get closer to the shoreline. Although very windy, Addie and I ventured to the water. The “sand” was black and coarse, and the water was clear and shiny. We were astonished at where we were. There was no one in sight; it was stunning, yet arguably a little eerie. The scene felt like one out of an Agatha Christie novel.

We hopped back into the car and continued on our way. There was so much more to explore. Through golden hills and windy roads, we arrived at Mattole Valley.

I remember something about a lighthouse through my frontend research, so when I saw a road called Lighthouse Road, I felt inclined to take the turn. I knew this road was bringing me closer to the ocean, and when the road ended, I found a campground and trailhead. At this point, I had no mobile service, but I checked the trail map at the information sign and decided to hike this trail along the coast. It was a 7-mile out and back section of the Lost Coast Trail (one can hike the entire Lost Coast; however, this was a section of it) to an old lighthouse, Punta Gorda Lighthouse.

The information board included a tide schedule, which was alarming. To hike this trail safely, one must consider the tides. There are parts of the path that are so close to the shore that you cannot get through it at high tide. According to the chart, I had a window of time to make it to the lighthouse and back safely, so I took the opportunity.

Much of this hike was through the sand, which I don’t love. On the way out, the wind was at our back; however, we were braving it on the return trip. The scenery was breathtaking, though, and the lighthouse was a substantial reward. I saw a few other people out there and also some elephant seals!

After the hike, and pretty exhausted, Addie and I continued driving. We were losing daylight, and I wanted to ensure we got back to civilization (meaning: street lights of some sort) before the sunset. We headed east from the coast, back to main roads before heading back up north to where we were camping. It was a great day scouting out The Lost Coast, and I left hoping I’d revisit one day.