April 9-11: Tunnels, Tastes and Returns

Up before everyone else, I used the time to sweep away all evidence of the mud and crud tent situation and sat down at the living room table with some tea and one of the many letters that had been trailing along in my bag with me waiting for a moment that I could offer some attention. Just as I'd gotten halfway down the page, Ed meandered into the kitchen in a stumbling half-daze. "Oh! "Someone is up!" He seemed taken aback by this and fumbled uselessly with some cabinets before wandering back out into the living room. I had a much less awkward experience when his partner wandered in shortly after and warmly offered up some coffee. I declined, but welcomed the opportunity for conversation. Both of them were semi-retired and the day before, had described lives of a sort of luxury, bathing in hot tubs and wandering down to the courtyard to see who was playing tennis. But she did not let the free time become empty space. There was a painting flier pinned to the refrigerator and we got to talking about artistic pursuits; she had taken many art classes in her time and now that she no longer held a full time management position in education, she was ready to experiment again. I smiled and encouraged her excitement; I love to see adults pursue art passionately outside of a profession. If anything, it gives me hope that my life will once again open up a space where that inspiration can evolve into fruitful pursuits for me as well.

Once Alice was up, packing and planning quickly began. Today would be our longest day of driving yet. Our aim was to get from Berkely to the the Lava Beds National Monument just south of the Oregon border. Having been anxious to pack, I looked over the atlas while Alice caught up packing her belongings. We gave our hugs goodbye, thanked them again profusely and were on our way, after Alice grabbed some breakfast in town at a cafe that had been recommended by Ed.















We had two detours. The first was the Muir House. although it turned out that our timing wouldn't allow a tour, I still wanted to see where he lived. The hilltop homestead was far more elegant that I'd have imagined him to live but this was the last place he resided. After all those years of galavanting about, he probably wanted some comfort. The scene was somewhat sullied by the construction workers doing some sort of remodeling in the front yard and we didn't stay long. The next detour was to find a place where I could get rid of the giant box of bottles I'd been lugging around the entire trip. The perk of the "CA-CASH REFUND" was not as bountiful as I'd remembered and the re-embursement probably paid for my drive to find the store. Lessons learned.

And then the drive. We played some music. Listened to a podcast interview with Eve Ensler. I tried to introduce Alice to Rubberneckers but mostly I think she was worried I would crash into something while playing. On our last long stretch - Hwy 299 - we made one last grocery stop. We continued to drive. We mused at the miles of orange construction and wood mess on the sides of the road. We found this dude:

As one who sees faces in rocks often, I doubly appreciated this

And just as the visitors' center was closing, we finally got to the Lava Beds! The man on the phone helpfully guided us to our campground where we had all the spots in the world to choose from; the off season was pretty fab in this regard. Once we were set up, I went over to talk to our sole campmates who had waved to us from recliners under the shade of their large camper when we'd driven past. The woman Nancy immediately beamed as I approached. She had apparently derived some positive assumptions about me off the back of my car, sharing that she had a daughter I would probably get along with. Her and her husband Leland had been on the way south and decided it was too hot and bothersome. So they stopped here. Oh, the things you can do when you're retired. They had arrived just the day before but already had some great advice for us on where to go with our limited time in the morning. There was a loop drive just past the visitors center that offered cave explorations of all shapes and sizes, with a standards one-cave-darkness-fits-all. All the caves in the Lava Beds are Self-guided so we had no 'schedule'. All we had to do was stop by the visitors center for our Q&A to make sure we weren't carrying the threatening "White Nose" Syndrome that was obliterating bat populations around the nation. And get our heavy-duty flashlights. When picking and choosing, Nancy noted "Lava tubes are cool and all, but once you've seen one, you've seen 'em all." In other words, don't feel like you have to go into every one. They did recommend the Golden Dome saying "that one is intense. I walked away from Leland for a minute to go look at something on the other side of the wall and got completely disoriented. For a minute, we weren't sure we knew our way out. I've never felt like that in my life." Alice had joined us by this point and gave a shaken look while I anticipated going there. The two talked a little more about how they met - Nancy was from Santa Cruz and Leland from good ol' N'orleans, accent and all - and about their daughter who played amazing music (they had a sample turned up in their trailer). I couldn't stop looking at Nancy's eyes. They were the most vibrant, piercing eyes I'd ever seen. Just as I was about to comment, she interjected the conversation and said to me "You have beautiful eyes!" It made it easier to say that I was going to tell her the exact same thing.






With a little sunlight left, Alice and I wandered around the desert camp boundaries. I remained near the top while Alice went off into a world of her childhood in New Mexico. She seemed absolutely enthralled and I could tell how much it spoke to her by the look she returned with.

At camp, we made something to eat, cracked a cider and played some rummy before bed. A clear, cool night; I was glad to be back outside.

We had heard the visitor's center opened at 8 and we wanted to be the first in and out on the caves since we would have to be leaving by noon to meet Tucker and Kira in Eugene for dinner. It had been a dry night so the tent didn't need airing this time, which made packing go a lot more smoothly. I heated some water for tea and we were out with minutes to spare.

Or a half hour. They actually didn't open until 8:30 so we meandered around the parking lot, reading the small info-snippits outside. Beyond the beautiful landscape and complex geological makeup, the area had a tortured  and equally complex past. During WWII, Tule Lake in the North end of the park was home to the Tule Lake Relocation Center, a segregated holding camp for Japanese citizens. In 1943 when the US issued an unjust questionaire to supposedly determine the 'loyalty' of Japanese captives, Tule Lake ranked one of the highest quantity of disloyal occupants and was raised to a maximum security center and jail, with over 18,000 occupants. Before a detainment center, the camp had been used for the extolled Civilian Conservation Corps as one of their many 1930's 'New Deal' work sites. But even further back, the history was laden with bloodshed of none other than the Native peoples. Long before Americans, it was the Modoc peoples built their spiritual center around this land, naming Tule Lake the central disc. In the 1840's when settlers sell out homesteads on the land in this area, conflict of course arose with the Modoc and through a series of misguided attacks, finally led to a signing of a convoluted treaty in 1864 which moved the Modoc People out of the Tule Lake area onto The Upper Klamath river. However, the Klamath had their own tribes there and intertribal disharmony soon took place with the US abandoning their half of the bargain to provide for the Modoc, so the Modoc attempted to move back to their land. Under the guidance of their chief known as 'Captain Jack', the Modoc built a stronghold within the fissures of the caves in the upper Lava Beds Area near Tule Lake. For 5 months, a band of 43 Modocs successfully held off American forces until in 1873, a brutal war broke out that took many lives on both sides. There was a brief period of peace as Captain Jack attempted a peaceful resolution but to no avail, the war ended in more killing and the eventual trial and execution of Captain Jack. This little known battle was one of the most costly native wars and the only war where a General was killed.

The Visitor's center now open, I pursued more of the history and the craftwork of the Modoc and we watched a  tourist-friendly video of the Lava Beds and played with interactive displays exhibiting the versatility of the land. It was actually quite versatile. To the north of the park lay dry grasslands while the south was home to brush land and pine forest, allowing more rain and snow which would trickle down to the lava beds. Many of the plants by the caves also evolved to maximize this opportunity under the circumstances of water scarcity and had developed tiny, waxy leaves that would retain the runoff. Finally, we got our flashlights and our bat clearance and headed to the caves.

Mushpot was our first stop. A Recommended introductory cave at the beginning of the loop, the 524-foot floor-lit path gave us a run down of the geology around us. 30 million years ago, when the ocean ran beneath the continent to create a fault line split, a rush of lava poured out and flowed on this slanted terrain. The reason this did not become an eruption like your average volcano was because gas bubbles were able to escape rather than build up pressure. As the lava on the surface cooled, the pull of the downward slope and the insulation provided by the sealed surface enabled lava to continue to flow underneath. Once it drained, the caves were what remained. The area that these cave covered may not be as noticeably massive as your resident St. Helens, but by breadth and volume, is in the top ranking at 150 m long and 7,800 feet high.

As we moved on through other caves, I began to appreciate the uniqueness of this collection of hidden tunnels. I had been in many caves and seen your standard mammoth formations with impressive names and stalactites and stalagmites and "bacon" and "popcorn" and most recently had added the one-of-a-kind "box work" of Wind Caves to the tapestry of patterns. But I had never been in such "tunnel-y" tunnels. And the patterns that the cooling lava had created were also unlike anything I'd seen: Ropey, as the fast-moving lave began to slow and imprint itself to the cooled walls; Cauliflower, as it became more sluggish; and finally clinker, as it rolled along with the last of its momentum like pebbles being kicked along by a kid. There were even unique pockets into other tunnels above where the lining had collapsed and connected two passageways. Golden Dome had to be the most memorable. Appropriately named, I had never seen 'Fool's Gold' in its natural environment, let alone this much. It webbed the ceiling like some elaborate 18th century ceiling painting. But what stood out above all, was being able to go at it alone.

 One of my biggest fears would probably have to be of small, tight spaces. I think about it in caves sometimes and get the inner shakes but I continue to challenge myself to go to these places. Having the opportunity to take myself into even smaller, tighter spaces that toured cave walks wouldn't take you but to go only as far as I want was a treat. I was on my hands and knees and belly, turned off the lights, cautiously challenged my directions...I didn't get too crazy but I was thrilled.

We went into about 4 caves before we had to head out. At the North end of the park, we stopped at Captain Jack's stronghold where the battle took place and 'Hospital Rock' which looked out over the remains of Tule Lake. This livelihood of the Modocs had been almost completely drained between 1908-9030 when the Applegate Brothers who's first settled here began to sell lotteries for the land. It was a sad sight. But also a great view of a gorgeous mountain.

                               

Bound for Eugene, my car (potential name: margana?) hit 100,000 miles just outside of the park. Hooray...for...being older...keep it up!!! I hate to think about her ever not working.

Alice and I had invited Tucker and Kira to meet us for dinner at The Pizza Research Institute which came highly recommended by Nora (she'd attended college in Eugene) but Kira not done with work when we rolled into town so we went to bide our time at her other recommendation The Cornbread Cafe, and all vegan hub. If I weren't hooked on the long-overdue prospect of a good pizza, I would have buckled. I did take a taste of Alice's Jalepeno Cornbread muffin which just solidified that I would need to make another visit here one day.

We sipped coffee and played rummy and read bird facts on the backs of cards before restless feet got the better of us. We drove nearby the restaurant and walked around the neighborhood. Every place smelled divine. I hadn't been too impressed all the times I'd passed through downtown Eugene but I should have known: It's always in the hidden neighborhoods. Funky murals, patisseries, bakeries, vegan ice cream shoppes, cart restaurants, patio ethnic cuisine, the brewery homestead of Ninkasi...and Pizza. Seeing what there is to see, I at least wanted to get seats and start drooling over the food we would actually get to sample. I also ordered what instantly shot to the top of my cider list: 2 Towns Cider. A couple of guys next to us began rattling off their pizza topping suggestions. When Tucker and Kira arrived, we were filled with things to catch up on and talk about but we quickly reigned the focus back in on food first.

Nom. double nom. Nom forever. I would if I could. I got Chèvre, Artichoke, Mushrooms and Curry Roasted Cauliflower and Alice got a fancy marinated tofu on hers. And before I left, the waitress was able to get me a taste of their in-house cinnamon bourbon mixed with the cider, a cocktail I had noticed only after ordering and probably for the better. Delicious. We treated our friends and headed back to the house where Kira stayed up to chat for a bit but Tucker had totally needed to zonk out.

The last day of the journey. Portland was on the way home and groceries were needed so a brief stop would be happening regardless. I had been in communication with a friend I hadn't talked to recently who I'd hoped to see. But it didn't seem to be working out. Then, before I'd gone to bed at Tucker and Kira's, I'd received a message from my friend Tony asking how I was and I remembered: "Hey! He was getting transferred to Portland last time we talked!" And so the next day after groceries, Alice and I met Tony at Salt and Straw for another must-have road trip treat. I raved about them back in November when my mom and I first discovered them and their ice cream has yet to be beat, not that I eat it much. The visit was short, but sweet (to the tastebuds and the heart).

By evening, I was back in Packwood. A week felt like ages. But like clockwork, Mary and Corey pulled in from their out-of-town adventure just as I was unpacking and we ended the night with ciders and a bonfire in the yard,, sharing our tales.

A wonderful end to a wonderful break.