Route 101 - The Oregon Coast

Route 101 is a nice seaside road that winds its way down the coast, it's fairly quiet and very scenic. It continues down into California and is one of those great road trip driving routes. The weather was wet and cold for the first few days but the coast was beautiful and rugged, comprising of what seemed to be one long endless beach with big rocky outcrops dotted around. I camped each night in Oregon State Parks, although not cheap but at least cheaper than hostelling.
On the third night I found what was to be my favourite place on the coast, and to think I initially drove past, I had stopped at another information point/ historical way point maker to read about some nice little place called Winchester, which was just back the way I came by a few hundred meters. So back I went and first found a lovely pinic spot, so I ate lunch and walked around an idealic little lake which was right next to another camp ground. Further round the headland was a lighthouse and continuing on was the little fishing village of Winchester, where I wandered around and found some local delicacy called Taffy, which are sweets make with salt water or something.

I was taking pictures of some nice old wreck that looked like it could be a painting and found a local who I fell into converstation with, he was a local artist who draws local scenes onto large shells. He recommended I stay in the campground just accross from the village and to say Mike sent me, after I while I took my leave to get some beers, I thought I deserved some after Portland and as I was leaving to get back in the car I heard a shout, I looked around and it was Mike. 'Good luck, Claire' he said, waving. I waved back, it brought a lump to my throat, these people warm my heart.
I went over to said campsite and hosts let me stay for $5! A blessed relief to the wallet, and it was probably the best campsite overall. A lovely view of the village, nice soft grass for the tent to peg into and not far from the facilites. Thanks Mike.
I continued down the 101, walking on beaches, some places reminded me of England. I reached the Redwoods on day 4 on the northern tip of California, and found a scenic drive and went through one of the oldest Redwood forests in the area, it was like an enchanted forest, the dirt track winds for some miles through the magestic trees, and it felt like a sort of ride, like the floaty river rides in Disney where you just go by slowly looking at all the wonderful things. I was heading inland towards Crater Lake, I doubt the friendly family would still be there but it seemed like a good destination and it would make the trip into a round trip then.

Crater Lake used to be a volcano, with a massive laver chamber underneath that gradually emptied through successive erruptions, until there was nothing to support the mountain above and it collapsed and gradually filled up and formed a lake. There is a mini peak on one side of the lake as the volcano continues to erupt, albeit in smaller. Its a spectular place, especially as I had no expectations having never heard of it until a few days earlier. There was still snow on the rim and some areas were still closed due to snow, in one day I had gone from 33 degree heat to 12. I stayed in the campground and had nightmares about mountian lions and bears. The next day was my last full day with the car, my five quid sunglasses had finally broken so I bought a sun hat and headed up towards Portland to be near enough to deposit the car for 10am next day. On route I got stopped by a cop for driving too well, he was in an undercover car and pulled my over for not indictating when I overtook and truck, fair enough, but was mainly concerned about the fact I had kept changing speed. I explained it was an overtaking lane and he was too close for comfort behind me so assumed he wanted to pass, so I went slower as we approached the passing lane so he could pass safetly but when he didn't pass I carried on my normal speed. 'Oh' he said, he seemed surprised that it was in fact his driving that had affected mine. He gave me no ticket but just reminded me to use my indicators when overtaking. I think he learnt something too. I felt slightly smug.

Getting nearer to Portland I went through some dreery towns that the guide book said were nice and got back onto route 26 where I started looking for a place to stay, it was pissing down again and I ended up going up and down one stretch of road 5 times and yet again was practically in tears by the time I found somewhere, but I did enccounter by chance the real location of The Shining, a place called Timberline Lodge near Mt Hood ski area. It's much smaller than I expected, and was only used for exterior shots. I did eventually found a motel with a little house on the prairie style room, but the bed was uncomforable so I got out my Thermarest and slept far better on the floor.