July 1, 2019. 5340 miles.

Although it’s little more than a week since I posted, I feel the need to write before we journey on.

From Haines, the highway follows the Chilkat River, which, near Klukwan, is the seasonal home of over 3,000 Bald Eagles. This annual gathering centers on the late run of chum salmon, and is a late fall thing.

40 miles north of Haines, we entered British Columbia, then 45 miles later, Yukon. Between them, Chilkat Pass. Despite continued unsettled weather and only occasional indications that we were surrounded by snowy peaks and glaciers, this is a particularly varied and beautiful stretch of Highway.

In Haines we learned Fort Seward was established in 1904 to secure U.S. “ownership” of territory disputed with Canada. Although courts eventually decided the U.S. purchase of Alaska from Russia included Skagway and Haines, looking at a map or being in the communities of Haines and Skagway, it’s easy to understand why Canada would see both ports as part of the Yukon Territory. Also easy to understand why Canada would have wanted access to the Lynn Canal and the wallets of the Gold Rushers supplying themselves for the arduous trek to Dawson City, whether via the Dalton Trail, Chilkoot Pass or White Pass. (Don’t get me started, and border disputes aside, you have to marvel at the combination of arrogance, racism and ignorance that allowed these countries to buy, sell and dispute territory already settled for hundreds, if not thousands, of years.

We camped one night at Million Dollar Falls (a Yukon Government Campground near the confluence of the Tekhanne and Tatshenshini Rivers), and one night at Kathleen Lake in Kluane National Park. Together, Kluane , Tatshenshini- Alsek Wilderness Provincial, Glacier Bay, and Wrangell- St Elias National Parks are a UNESCO World Heritage Site, and the largest internationally protected area in the world. The Kluane Icefield is also the world’s largest non-polar icefield.

We had thought of taking a glacier flight out of Haines Junction. Instead, between iffy weather and not wanting to further inflate our already inflated carbon footprint, we revelled in every glacier glimpse, and delighted in knowing the world’s largest non-polar icefield, and Mount Logan, Canada’s tallest peak (19,545 ft), were just out of sight.

After re-entering Alaska, we overnighted in the 730,000 acre Tetlin National Wildlife Refuge. Then on to Tok for resupply before two nights camped in Wrangell-St Elias, one on the Nabesna Road, and one at the end of the McCarthy Road.

If you look at a map, you’ll see it’s a long way by road from Haines to Valdez, not unlike circumnavigating several Eastern states. We’ve enjoyed it all.

Somewhere south of Tok, spring turned to summer. A week ago, it seemed highly unlikely we would ever stop wearing jeans, sweatshirts, Xtratufs, and rain gear. Now we’re breaking out shorts and flips, enamored of the screen door that mostly keeps biting insects out, and looking for cooler places to land. Tonight that’s Blueberry Lake Recreation Area, in Thompson Pass.

In general, whether we’re talking birds, mammals, Native, or immigrant, Alaska is a spectacularly seasonal place. Between the daylight (or not) and the temperatures, everything and everyone has a seasonal rhythm.

Since leaving rain and rainforest behind, we’ve finally been experiencing the long Alaskan summer days. Forget stargazing. Although the sun goes down around 11:30 and comes up around 4:30, it’s never completely dark. More like twilight.

From here, it’s on to Anchorage and Denali. Due to smoke from the ongoing Swan Fire on the Kenai, our plans for the rest of this week are somewhat in flux.

Some if you have asked how the new van is working out. In a word, great. We couldn’t be happier with the design and workmanship. Most important, it suits us.

July 4, 2019. 5698 miles.

Lack of signal kept me from posting earlier, so here’s an update. We headed north from Valdez in such dense smoke the entire Wrangell Range was invisible. Then a day of beautiful light and a guided hike (with crampons) on a bit of the 26-mile-long Matanuska Glacier. Yesterday we rolled out of the mountains into Anchorage, where we’re enjoying time with friends. It’s a good place to be on this 4th of July.

Toni

June 20, 2019. 4199 Miles.

I’m writing this as we travel from Juneau to Haines, the final segment of our Alaska Ferry journey. The skies have cleared, and snow-capped mountain ranges are visible on both sides of the ferry. To our left, the Chilkat Range. To our right, the Coastal Range, with inviting glimpses of the Juneau Icefield.

Before we leave Southeast Alaska, a few random thoughts on our time here.A surprising pleasure of our island stays was the vibrant community radio stations we were able to tune in pretty much everywhere- KRBD Southeast Coastal , KSTK Stikine Public Radio aired local and varied musical programming, from jazz 78s to Brazilian Hour, plus in-depth local and Alaska news, Muskeg Messages, and the weather report (rain, rain, rain). With cell phone signal hard to come by, and with no sign of internet providers, radio waves matter.

So do other connective fibers. Each town we visited had a public library and a recreation center (with pool) that dramatically exceeded our expectations. In Ketchikan (population 8,000), Wrangell (population 2,400), and Petersburg (population 3,000), these were bustling welcoming places where we’ve been able to catch up on email, take showers, restock drinking water.

Then there’s the Alaska Marine Highway. Traveling by ferry is fascinating, and if your vehicle is under 19′, surprisingly inexpensive. We really recommend getting off the ferry and spending time in the communities the ferry serves. The 2019 ferry schedule pretty much dictated the length of our stays- four nights in Ketchikan, four in Wrangell, one in Petersburg, and three in Juneau.

Although these towns can only be reached by water or air, once there, we found many miles of good roads, and followed them to campgrounds and trails. The campgrounds were mostly free. Per Mary, “Boardwalk was the name of the game for most hikes, and there were a variety of construction styles, depending on the town. Some more challenging than others, especially in the rain. Can you say slip sliding away!” Most were single-wide boards, leading over twisted roots and Muskeg, up and down hundreds of steep steps, often themselves covered by water. We, even Toby, had to stay focused.

The Tongass is the worlds largest temperate rain forest, and our Xtratuf rubber boots have already proved worth their weight in gold! Our other invaluable accessory- the Alaska Milepost. Spring for both- and good rain gear.

Our last night in Wrangell, we hoped to park in town, poised for an early morning ferry check-in. When I asked the policeman we saw at the library for advice, he suggested I avoid red curbs, and offered to give the night shift a heads up.

Postscript from Haines (population 2,500)- After almost two weeks on the Inside Passage, where towns are wedged between mountain and sea, I find myself soothed by the more open vistas of Haines. Incredible location, and the smells, the vibe, and the 360° mountain views remind me of Aspen in the 60’s. Laid-back, with a hip side, and boasts the best microbrewery we’ve visited since leaving Arizona. Yet another recreation center, community radio station (KHNS) and public library (this one has its own totem pole, and in 2005 received Library Journal’s Best Small Library award). There’s even a Hammer Museum (2,000 hammers on display)! At the moment, I could live here. Haircuts tomorrow!

Between the clear skies and the more open terrain, we can finally see and enjoy the long elliptical path of the northern summer sun. A happy solstice to all!

Love, Toni

June 10, 2019. 3729 miles.

Think of this as a rather soggy postcard. To spice things up, tomorrow the weather prediction shifts from Rain to Heavy Rain. So goes life in the Inside Passage. We stop to celebrate the sun if it appears (not lately) and drop everything for a walk the rain stops.

Although all this rain limits us a bit, it is just what Southeast Alaska needs. Ketchikan is in the temperate rain forest, where annual precipitation can be measured in feet, not inches. In a normal year, Ketchikan gets almost 13 feet (150 inches) of precipitaion. This year they’re down 40″. Everything looks wet, mossy, green, yet community radio KRBD tells us Southeast Alaska is suffering the worst drought conditions in the U.S. southeast-alaska-is-seeing-its-first-extreme-drought-ever-recorded-climatologists-say/

So while others rejoice in the rain, we’re holed up at the beautiful public library, catching up on a few things, including this hurried attempt at a blog post.

Now a quick recap of the last ten days. We left Port Townsend WA June 3, soon after the 5 am start of the Race to Alaska. Ferry to Whidbey Island, lunch with high school comrades Jim and Geof (both living in Bellingham), then north to Prince Rupert BC. The need to catch a June 7 ferry gave us little time for distraction. We reminded ourselves we are saving northern British Columbia for the return trip. We did allow enough time to visit the North Pacific Cannery museum, just outside Prince Rupert, and the history and beauty of the cannery (in operation 1889- 1960’s) made us glad we did.

The first leg of our travels on the Alaska Marine Highway brought us to Ketchikan, where we’ve been learning a bit about the temperate rain forest and the peoples who have lived here since the last ice age.

Our current camp is Settlers Cove, some 15 miles north of Ketchikan. It’s a beautiful spot, with trails, coast, and at low tide, a small sandy beach. Last night we had the campground to ourselves, the only noise the sound of rushing Lunch Creek emptying into the cove.

It’s not just the drought that has Southeast Alaskans worried. Alaska governor Mike Dunleavy’s budget includes massive cuts (75%) to the Alaska Ferry budget, and it seems likely the Inside Passage trip we’re taking will not be possible after October 1. More important, the rural communities that depend on the Alaska Ferry will suffer. in-alaska-shrinking-oil-revenues-may-mean-severe-cutbacks-to-state-ferry-system

We’re off now to find lunch (maybe at a local microbrewery), showers at the Recreation Center, and the Ketchikan Yacht Club, where it is rumored the lead R2AK racers will arrive later this afternoon. Tomorrow we catch the ferry to Wrangell.

Late breaking news- The winning team arrived soon after we finished lunch at the Alaska Fish House, and we were perfectly situated to watch the finish, along with a group of young “lumberjacks” from the Great Alaskan Lumberjack Show.

Toby is doing great, and took the ferry in stride. More fodder for his memoir (“Boring, Boring, Boring: My Life as a Dog.”). As always, he attracts positive attention from people and dogs. In Ketchikan he had his photo taken by a complete stranger who just had to send it to his daughter in law.

So many photos and stories to tell. For those of you who do Facebook, there’s more to see and read there.

Toni

May 31, 2019. 2413 miles.

Well, not really, but I need to write about Oregon before we move on to British Columbia and the Inside Passage. At the moment Mary and I are hanging with friends in Olympia, Washington. This after hanging with friends in Bandon and Corvallis, Oregon. It’s been a great week of food and conversation, and if we don’t hit the road again soon, none of our clothes will fit.

This weekend we’ll be in Port Townsend for the start of the 4th annual Race to Alaska, aka R2AK,. Winning crew gets $10,000. 2nd place finishers get a set of steak knives. Watercraft of all sorts, from sailboats to kayaks to paddle boards, leave the dock at 5 am Monday June 3, racing to Ketchikan. Although we’ll proceed at a more sedate pace (ferry from Port Townsend to Whidbey Island, drive to Prince Rupert BC, Alaska Ferry to Ketchikan (arriving 1 am Saturday, June 8), there’s a good chance we’ll catch the race finish before catching the June 11 ferry to Wrangell.

Toby at Dennis & Charlyn’s. He was ready to stay.

When last we spoke, we were hunkered down at Eagle Lake. From there we headed to Lava Beds National Monument and the Klamath National Wildlife Refuge. This would be a fun area to explore further- a couple dozen lava tubes, Captain Jack’s Stronghold (where a band of 100 Modoc used the natural fortress

Elk off the Cape Blanco road

of lava ridges and caves to hold off a thousand US Army troops for five months in 1872-73), the Tule Lake Segregation Center (where almost 19,000 Japanese Americans labeled “disloyal” were incarcerated during WWII), and birds, birds, birds.

Crater Lake just before it disappeared in cloud and snow.

North of Klamath Falls we headed west into the southern Cascades, starting with a snowy visit to Crater Lake, the deepest lake (1943 feet) in the United States. Fed by rain and snow (no rivers or streams), the lake is perhaps the cleanest and clearest large body of water in the world. It rests inside a caldera formed 7,700 years ago when a 12,000 foot tall volcano collapsed following a major eruption. The eruption may have been the largest in North America in the past 640,000 years.

Crater Lake selfie. It was cold!

For the next few days, we followed Rogue Umpqua National Scenic Byway from end to end. If you ever get to this area, find a ranger station and get the free BLM/USFS guide to the Byway. It’s excellent. We visited

Columnar jointing above the Umpqua River

waterfalls galore, stayed in a lovely CCC campground (Union Creek) on the Rogue River, a BLM campground with showers (Susan Creek) on the Umpqua River, enjoyed cool geology, and great scenery. Not at all busy either. Maybe the cold weather? Maybe the season doesn’t really start until the Memorial Day weekend?

Toketee Falls

We had time to dawdle, and headed to Roseburg for wine tasting, south to Grants Pass for an afternoon visit with Joya, then on to the Smith River National Recreation Area, Redwood National Park, and Cape Blanco State Park. Still pre-Memorial Day, still mostly rainy weather, still mostly empty campgrounds. No complaints!

Camped at Delfino Vineyards outside Roseburg

We loved touring the lighthouse (the Cape Blanco light has been in continuous operation since 1870, and is situated on the westernmost point in Oregon), the Hughes House (at the mouth of the Sixes River), the Lifeboat Station at Port Orford Heads State Park, and the unique Port Orford dock, one of only two “dolly docks” in the U.S. (the other one is in Los Angeles). Gigantic hoists lift the vessels in and out of the water each day, because the harbor area is too shallow for safe mooring. The boats are parked in rows on the dock, cradled in custom-made trailers that are pulled around by pickup trucks.

From Cape Blanco we launched what Mary has dubbed the social segment of our trip- Dennis & Charlyn in

Dennis, Charlyn & Mary on Face Rock Beach (Bandon)

Bandon, Dianna in Wren, David & Sarah in Corvallis, and now Mary & Nora in Olympia, plus a bonus lunch with Evelyn.

As we traveled through Oregon, we were educated on the past and present of logging and the lumber industry, and on how the values for which one manages a forest might translate into decisions. Lots to chew on.

Your next dispatch will be postmarked Alaska!

Toni

May 15, 2019. 1141 miles.

This comes to you from Eagle Lake, 15 miles north of Susanville, California, where we await a late winter storm expected to dump a foot of snow on the Sierras. While we won’t miss the storm, we might just miss the snow.

The lake campgrounds just opened today, and for the moment, we are practically the only campers here.

Sandwiched between the Sierras and the Cascades, Eagle Lake is the second largest natural lake in California. Like Lake Tahoe, Eagle Lake sits on the Western edge of the Basin & Range terrain, a geologic region we have been traversing for the last five days.Our route through Basin & Range has been a succession of mountain passes and high desert valleys, as Highway 50 finds its way through one range, then another and another.

Highway 50 was previously the route of the Pony Express, quickly followed by the first transcontinental telegraph line. It is gorgeous and largely deserted country, the heart of the Great Basin Desert, one of four distinct North American deserts. (The others are the Sonoran, Chihuahuan and Mojave Deserts.)

The Nevada stretch of Highway 50 has been dubbed “the loneliest road in America,” a bit hyperbolic, but not without some basis in fact. As we traversed the sagebrush sea, towns were small and far between.

Learning some early history of the Great Basin and its Paleolithic inhabitants was a treat. The Great Basin is distinguished by being, well, a basin, with no outlets to the sea. Streams flow out of the high, currently snow-covered mountains, then terminate in mostly shallow lakes. 10-15,000 years ago, at the end of the last Ice Age, a huge chunk of Nevada, and parts of Oregon and California were covered by Lake Lohantan. Our route across Nevada took us through Lake Lohantan terrain, where ancestors of the Paiute and Shoshone people fished for trout and lured waterfowl with decoys made of reeds and feathers. They left their mark on rocky outcrops.

Soon after entering Nevada, we came to Great Basin National Park. Although lingering snow closed the road to Wheeler Basin, and kept us from visiting the Bristlecone Pines (maybe on our way home in September?), we were wowed by the tour of Lehman Caves.

As most of you know, we are slowly moving towards Alaska. This sign at the Great Basin Visitor Center gave me pause. “In many places in the Great Basin, traveling from valley floor to mountain peak is like driving from the desert to the Arctic Circle.”

A few logistical details. We’ve camped at two Forest Service campgrounds, two free BLM campgrounds, one National Park campground, and one farm, where we were able to purchase organic asparagus, chard, salad mix and eggs. Since leaving Prescott Friday, May 10, we’ve travelled 1141 miles. We’ve listened to one book (Anne Hillerman’s “The Tale Teller”).

My facts are loosely cobbled together, and I’m always delighted to receive corrections. Still figuring out the mechanics of producing a blog post on my smartphone.

Bear with me. It will get better.

Toni

Greetings!

Mary and I are just back from a 12-day trip to the San Rafael Swell. “Where is that?” you might ask. If you’ve ever driven I-70 between Green River and Richfield, Utah, you’ll remember multiple signs warning you it’s 110 miles to the next gas station. As you traverse that service-free area, you are crossing the San Rafael Swell, a giant dome-shaped anticline from the time of the Laramide Orogeny, 40-60 million years ago.

Buckhorn Draw panel detail

Our route brought us up the Moki Dugway, across Cedar Mesa (part of the new Bears Ears National Monument), then north on spectacular Utah Hwy 95 to Goblin Valley. When we left the Swell, we headed south via Fish Lake and the Burr Trail to the south flank of the Henry Mountains. After crossing Lake Powell on the Bullfrog-Halls Crossing ferry ($25/vehicle for the 20-minute ride), we were back in Bears Ears country, long one of our favorite parts of the southwest.

Lake Powell near Hite

We had a “swell” time, and came away with some tips for would-be explorers.

(1) We camped, and left home with pretty much everything we needed for the next two weeks. Every time we had an opportunity to buy gas or refill water bottles, we took it.

If you’re not planning to camp, the nearest towns are Green River (off I-70) and Castle Dale (on Utah Hwy 10). These are also good places to restock ice and groceries.

Goblin Valley, looking south to the Henry Mountains

If you want a campground, there are only two- Goblin Valley State Park (on the southern end of the Swell, between Hanksville and Green River) and San Rafael Bridge Campground (no drinking water, but in the heart of the Swell, off Buckhorn Draw Road). If you’re a boondocker, the Swell is wide open.

Bring everything you need. There really are no services.

(2) Other than Utah Hwy 10 and I-70, there aren’t a lot of paved roads. High clearance is nice. 4WD is better. When wet, even graded gravel roads were a challenge for the Eurovan. The Chinle Formation was not just a driving challenge. A surprise thunderstorm made the last few miles of our San Rafael River hike a Slip ‘N Slide. Rocks, sand and mud are the major road hazards, and we found ourselves approaching many stretches as if scouting a river rapid.

If highway driving is more your speed, or if the weather doesn’t encourage off-pavement exploration, take the time to stop at every east- and west-bound rest area. Between the views and the interpretive signs, you won’t regret. it. A Guide to I-70 Through Southeastern Utah

Toby and the Reef (eastern slope of the San Rafael Swell). Our campsite was less than a mile from an “informal” I-70 exit.

(3) Don’t rely on web-based resources, unless you have a reliable way to keep them available offline. Get the most up-to-date maps and guidebooks you can find. National Geographic Trails Illustrated maps cover most, though not all, of the areas we visited. Beware of what one guidebook calls “the great UDOT milepost migration.” In the first decade of the 21st century, the Utah Department of Transportation replaced freeway milepost markers, making them more accurate. A worthy goal, although it means guidebooks published before 2010 are likely to contain erroneous milepost information. If your old guidebook tells you to exit I-70 .3 miles after MP 145, the actual “informal exit” might be immediately after MP 147. And yes, there really are “informal exits” leading to wire gates and dirt roads that take you via roads through under-interstate culverts, to pictograph panels and backcountry camping and hiking.

Temple Mountain Wash Pictograph Panel detail

(4) Verizon signal (phone or data) was generally nonexistent. What signal there was, was spotty and weak. I posted to Facebook offline, and photos eventually made their way to “the cloud.”

Head of Sinbad Panel detail

Why go? The Swell is gorgeous, rugged and remote, and loaded with fascinating Barrier Canyon Culture pictographs more than 2,000 years old. Maybe it’s just their emotional impact, and Mary and I believe these figures are mostly larger than life, i.e. meant to be seen from afar. Even though some of the panels are fairly easy to reach, we had them all to ourselves. Iffy weekday weather may have helped. We got the feeling the area is a weekend playground for ATVs and dirt bikes. We saw the most people in the Goblin Valley area and at the Wedge Overlook.

Rochester Panel detail

It wasn’t all pictographs and scenery. We saw astounding petroglyphs too, both in the Swell (Rochester Panel) and on Comb Ridge (Procession Panel). We even stumbled on an Ancestral Puebloan village, complete with penthouse apartments and kiva.

Head of Sinbad Panel detail

The night sky was a surprise bonus on this trip. Between mostly moon-free nights and remote locations, we had dark skies every night, from our first camp at Natural Bridges National Monument to our last at Navajo National Monument. More stars than I’ve seen in decades.

Black Dragon Panel detail. Several of the pictographs in this panel have been outlined in chalk, in this case erroneously. This 2015 Science magazine post is a very interesting read. ‘Winged monster’ on ancient rock debunked by scientists

All the panels in these photos can be found in guidebooks and on the web.

Top of the Burr Trail switchbacks

House on Fire (Mule Canyon)

Mary in “Hidden Village”

Little Grand Canyon from the Wedge Overlook

There’s so much to see and do up there. We only sampled the low-lying fruit.

Until life’s next adventure!

Toni

Hello from Ngrongoro Farm House!

It’s Saturday in Tanzania, and our two weeks here are coming to an end.  We’ve been mostly in the national parks and conservation areas of  northwest Tanzania- Arusha, Tarangire, Lake Manyara, Ngorongoro and the Serengeti.

Yesterday we visited  Oldupai Gorge, site of Mary Leakey’s discovery of the Zinjanthropus skull. Today we drive to Lake Eyasi, south of Ngorongoro, and home to the Hadza people, who have have lived in this area for thousands of years. Tomorrow we hope to visit the Hadza, and perhaps join them on a hunt.  Monday night we begin the long flights home.

Tanzania is the union of Tanganyika and Zanzibar. Within its borders are well over one hundred tribes, each with its own language. Everyone speaks Swahili, a language in which every word ends with a vowel.. This is one positive legacy of the twenty-five-year socialist presidency of Julius Nyerere. As we understand it, albeit with some serious missteps, Nyerere succeeded in forging a Tanzanian national identity by emphasizing education and a common language.

We have loved being in Tanzania, more specifically, loved being on this particular trip, travelling with Prescott College professor and naturalist Walt Anderson, driver guides Augustine and David, and six others, three of them students.  The days have been long, generally twelve hours in the field, and that’s what it takes if you really want to locate and observe wildlife.

The part of Tanzania we have seen is simply beautiful, offering gorgeous scenery in addition to stunning and plentiful wildlife. We are on the cusp of the rainy season, so wildlife is concentrated around water, whether a river or a puddle in the road. We saw more birds, mammals and reptiles than you can imagine, all unfettered by fences.

Observing wildlife behavior was such a treat. Whether the subject was lions squabbling and mating, a pack of African wild dogs sleeping, or serval cats disappearing in the grass, nature did not disappoint.

Although all our accommodations have been unique, welcoming and clean, the temporary Katikati camp in the Serengeti stands out. We spent four nights at Katikati, dining in the open air, and sleeping in canvas tents in total darkness. A generator ran a few hours each evening to recharge phones and camera batteries.  If you wanted a shower, a bucket of hot water was hoisted above your tent. What a treat after a long dusty day. 

Time is running out, so I’ll end here.  If you want more photos, you’ll find them on Facebook. For me, posting there is easier, and more immediate.

Love, Toni

P.S. We did meet up with a group of Hadza.

If you’ve been following my Texas posts, and considering a trip to the Lone Star State,  here’s one on the ins and outs of Texas camping, specifically camping in the Big Bend, Hill Country and Panhandle.

Unlike Arizona and most of the Rocky Mountain West, Texas is short on public lands.  Although there is plenty of wide open space, it’s not “this land is your land, this land is my land”space, space you can use for hiking and camping.  On the Federal front, in the western half of the state, the half we visited, there’s Big Bend National Park, Guadalupe Mountains National Park, and the Amistad National Recreation Area.  No National Forests. No BLM land.  The AAA map tells me there’s also the Rita Blanca National Grassland in the northwest corner of the Panhandle and Buffalo Lake National Wildlife Refuge, just west of our present location in Palo Duro Canyon State Park.

In the last 3+ years with the van, our default style of camping has been National Forest, National Park and BLM campgrounds. These are reasonably priced, and practically free with the America the Beautiful Senior Pass (if you’re 62 or older, $10 gets you free admission/parking and half price camping for life).  In west Texas, with one big exception, our pass didn’t do much for us.

The exception is Big Bend National Park.  Three great campgrounds, each $7/night with the pass, plus a great backcountry option we’ll use next time we’re here.  For one $10 fee ($5 with the geezer pass) you can spend up to 14 nights in designated primitive sites, many of them on decent dirt roads.

So what’s a camper to do?  Two options, one free, one a little more costly than we’re used to.  As a side note, when we visited cities like San Antonio and Austin, we stayed in hotels and motels, and used the van to get around.

In Texas, you can stay overnight for free at picnic areas. Since Texas highways are lousy with picnic areas, this is a good option for folks on a tight budget.  Although we made a lot of lunch time stops at picnic areas, we never used them for camping. Texas picnic areas consist of several picnic tables and trash cans, generally in a grassy area, and right by the highway.  When we camp, we’re generally looking for distance from road noise, places to walk with Toby, water, and a toilet.  If we find a nice spots for boondocking (dry camping, remote camping, primitive camping, dispersed camping), we’re happy to forgo the water and toilet.  Picnic areas didn’t do it for us.

We quickly realized Texas State Parks were the way to go.  These parks were mostly constructed by the CCC, and are all over the state, generally in scenic areas.  State parks offer water, restrooms, hot showers, and hiking, and with the exception of Big Bend Ranch State Park, dogs are welcome on the trails. The only drawback is cost. Overnight camping fees vary from park to park, and range from $8/night for primitive sites to $24/night for sites with full hookups.  It’s been a mostly cold trip, with many nights in the teens and low twenties, so we’ve mostly opted for water and electric sites, at an average cost of $15/night.  In an electric site, we can plug in our extension cord, then run the refrigerator and furnace, and recharge stuff, all without draining the “house” battery.   Many state parks also offer decent WiFi in the water/electric camping areas.

Although not as big or remote as what we’re used to, the Texas State Parks have all been good places to spend the night, well-maintained, and generally staffed with welcoming and helpful volunteers and rangers.  The one exception is Palo Duro Canyon, easily the most spectacular of the parks, and also the least welcoming and most poorly maintained. Perhaps it’s the proximity to a city, in this case, Amarillo.

If you visit Texas and think you’ll visit more than half a dozen state parks, natural areas and historic sites, consider a Texas State Parks pass. It’s $70 for a year, and gets everyone in your vehicle into these parks for “free.” Since admission to Texas Parks and Wildlife sites ranges from $2-6 per person per day, this in addition to any camping fees, it’s a better deal than you might think.  The pass also includes four half price nights when you’re in the same site for two nights. The pass expires at the end of the month in which it was purchased, so ours is good through February 2017.

Of the parks we stayed in, we particularly liked Copper Breaks, Caprock Canyons, Seminole Canyon and Davis Mountains.  We also visited and loved Pedernales Falls, Enchanted Rock (this park has all walk-in sites) and Colorado Bend State Parks.

Another side note- more of west Texas than we expected has no Verizon signal.  Not a problem, and it's good to be prepared with paper maps, books, magazines, etc.  We're also doing a three-month $0.99/month trial of Spotify, and enjoyed listening to albums we had downloaded and saved offline.

We found the state parks pretty empty, and hear that changes dramatically with Spring Break in March. Even in winter, Friday and Saturday nights within a couple of hours of cities like San Antonio and Austin may be booked way in advance at more popular parks. 

The good news is Texas has a good park reservation site, and unlike Recreation.gov and the Arizona State Parks site, no additional reservation fee.
http://texas.reserveworld.com/Home.aspx

If you camp Texas and find more options, let me know!

Toni

The photos are of our camps in Chisos Basin (Big Bend National Park) and Comanche Loop (Copper Breaks State Park).