About five 4th of July's ago, we had reservations to go camping in Humboldt Redwoods State Park. Dakota got sick and we spent the weekend with her in and out of the vet, hoping she'd be okay. Since that time, we talked a lot about making our way up to Humboldt but for one reason or another plans never crystallized.
Back at the beginning March I realized, "Oh crap, 4th of July is only 4 months away!" and decided to get cracking on getting a camping reservation for Lake Tahoe. Ha! Apparently those reservations are taken nearly a year in advance. (Note to self: start planning for next year, next month.) Undeterred from our desire to go camping again after a long hiatus, I researched other state parks we'd seen at one point or another. And that's when I remembered - Humboldt Redwoods State Park. Unfortunately that park too was full, so we settled for another one right down the road, Richardson Grove State Park.
Unfortunately, as we were gearing up for camping - buying new supplies & provisions for the weekend - Alan came down with a bad cold. He rarely gets sick but when he does, watch out. Fever, coughing, sore throat - the whole lot. It looked touch & go there for awhile - right up until Friday morning, in fact. We finally left the house around noon and wouldn't you know, hit a mass of traffic in Petaluma. What should have been a 3.5 hour drive ended up being a 4.5 hour drive - but that was nothing compared to coming home!
The first thing we saw when we pulled up to the park was a deer in a meadow right by the check in stand. Bodes well, no? Then we saw a long line of cars in front of us waiting to check in as well - didn't bode so well (noise and all that). Finally we checked in and made our way to the campsite - right by the main highway. That'd be 101 for all you west coasters who know what that means. Yeah, we could hear road noise the entire trip. For those that don't know, 101 is a major route that runs between CA, OR and WA and is traversed by all types of vehicles, including semis and tractor trailers. It was LOUD. After a while the noise kind of faded into the background but every now and then you'd be shocked into realizing just where you were. Aside from the noise, our campground was really gorgeous - at the end of a loop, extremely large and somewhat secluded from everyone but our nearest neighbors (who were serious wanna be thugs, compelete with pit bull and all).
After setting up our tent and relaxing for a bit, we walked over to the river to check out the "seasonal swimming hole." I'd read on various blogs that there was great swimming along the Eel River and we caught glimpses of the river as we drove down the highway so I was definitely excited. Much to my happiness, the river and the little swimming hole did not disappoint. But first, you had to cross a little bridge to get to the other side. Me and bridges? Not so good - yes, even though it was tiny. If you look closely you'll notice broken boards. *shudder*
I used to go camping a lot when I was a kid - obviously being a kid, I didn't drink coffee, but I figured I could probably boil some water and use the french press for some tasty caffine in the morning. I'm so citified. The water never really boiled, but it got hot enough to make weak coffee. Our cooking on the open flame was awesome though! I make fire, I cook food.
After awhile we donned our swim suits and headed down to the river for some fun in the sun. But of course, not before lathering up with SPF 50 for this Irish/German skin. (That's what I think ultimately did me in with the skeeters b/c that's when they started attacking MY FACE.)
We first stopped at the far end of the main swimming hole only to find that we were again next to our campign neighbors. It was here that I discovered that while thought they were all bad ass thugs, their pitbull had another idea. I'm not very afraid of pits, having grown up with them, but sometimes you see one that looks like he's stronger than any other dog you've ever seen. While this one had the look about him, he was quite the woosy and he was having none of their bravado. He was so cute!
Because it'd been so hot - and probably because the water isn't too terribly deep in most places - the river was temperate. I'm a big cold water sissy so it took me longer than most to get in but it was no worse than the Pacific Ocean in Hawaii.
By the time we went to bed I was covered in bites with at least 6 on my face (I've since found others in my hair). I was also feeling really run down and like I just wanted to sleep. We didn't think there'd be any fireworks since we were in a state park, so we called it a night around 10pm. As we were sitting in the tent we started hearing loud crashes and booms - fireworks, and we'd missed 'em. Shortly after they were finished, we had to listen to a family call it's dog for about 35 minutes before they either found the little bugger or they gave up and left him in the woods. Note to pet owners: if you're going to take your dogs to places where there will be fireworks, don't let them loose. Irresponsible.
After a night where I was finally able to sleep - more like knocked out! - I woke up around 9am to find that Alan had been trying to get the fire started to no avail. No hot coffee and toasted bagels for us. We packed up the campground after awhile and bid adieu to Richardson Grove State Park.
And despite the fact that my face looks like some wee beasties decided to feast on it, I'm already looking forward to our next camping trip - I just don't know when or where yet.
