Two Baby Boomers, Two Very Spoiled Shelter Dogs, and a Tolerant Cat Explore the U.S. in their Motor Home; Our Whippets Still Travel With Us in Spirit.
Friday, May 31, 2013
Bandido and Dad's Great Adventure - Oregon Dunes NRA
Bandido here.... Dad told me that since I did such a good job in a cameo performance on a recent post, that I could write this one. It took a lot of time to do this since my paws really don't fit dad's computer keyboard, and I don't write nearly as well as my Retama pal Pepperpuppy, but I was able to get the job done.
Dad told me that it was going to be just us guys today. He said that the hike we would be doing might aggravate Mom's temperamental foot because the sand would be shifting (whatever that means), and that because Tequila tends to plop down whenever she is tired and not get up (what a girl), that we would have a boys-only adventure in the sand. Before we left, Dad told me that the Oregon Dunes sand dunes are the tallest in North America. I don't know what that means, but it sounds like fun. The picture above shows me eagerly waiting for Dad to LET ME OUT OF THE CAR.
When Dad finally let me out of the car, we had to stop again within a minute so that Dad could read about the trail. I can't read myself, but I really think reading is overrated. Dad said we would be hiking the John Dellenback Dunes Trail. The trail has a person's name? Why not the Cinnamon Norris Trail? Or, the Pepperpuppy Moore Trail? Or, the Fosterdog Follis Trail? Or, the Sami Norris Trail? Or the Gabe n' Klick Trail? Or the Bacon Griest Trail? Or the Maggie Watt Trail? Or the Tequila Norris Trail? OR, THE BANDIDO NORRIS TRAIL? It is what it is (Brenda's slogan). Time to get this show on the road.
The first challenge of the hike was a lo-o-o-o-ng wooden bridge. I hate bridges. At least you can't see through this one, like the glass one in Redding. I can do this!
After the bridge, we entered the very green (everything has been green, lately), trail. We were soon surrounded by a whole lotta pink flowers. Dad said, that Mom said, they were Rhododendrons. I don't get too excited about flowers, except for an occasional sniff.
These flowers, and others, were everywhere. They were so thick that the trail floor was covered with pink.
Pretty soon, we walked by a big lily pond. We saw a big bird fly by. Dad said it might have been a blue heron, if they even fly through Oregon. This trail is cool 'n all, Dad, but where are the sand dunes? You said we could run through the sand! Are we there yet?
Oh yeah! We're there. Look at that hill of sand and all the footprints that I can sniff. Heaven for me!
The sign in front of the sand said, "Beach 2." Two what? Two beaches? Second beach? Two days? Humans are just not always that clear about things. Dad told me it meant two miles, whatever that means.
I can't tell you how much fun it was to run in the sand! Dad was right, this was OUR day. I ran. I twirled. I ran up sand dunes I ran down sand dunes. I jumped on Dad. I cried (a good cry). I barked. AND, I sniffed.
Dad said that this looked a lot like the Sahara Desert. I asked him when he was there, and he told me he had never been there. So how could he know that this looked like the Sahara Desert? I love Dad, but humans do say silly things.
As we walked (and ran, and climbed, and twirled, and jumped) along, Dad told me that he would be watching the footprints in the sand so we could find our way back.
How silly! Why would you watch the footprints, when you could sniff them? Nothing against Dad, but my sense of smell is far better than his random sense of sight. I could smell the ocean. Let's go faster.
Dad says he can see the ocean on the other side of those green pine trees. Let's go faster.
As Dad trudged along, and I ran along, we passed a couple of small ponds in the sand. No time to explore. I smell the ocean.
When we got close to the pine trees, with the ocean just on the other side, the footprints ended, so did the scent. Dad said that it was important for us to retrace our exact steps, and the steps of others, so that we could get back to the car. He did not want to get lost, and there were no other people to help us find our way back. He then said, "It looks like rain." So we stopped! I told him I could sniff our way back, but he did not seem to believe me. Dad ate lunch before we headed back. He shared his ham sandwich with me, which helped a little.
Dad said that this funny looking grassy thing was a landmark, whatever that means. The walk back was as much fun as the walk in. Dad and I often looked back at the ocean. I love the sand dunes.
When we were almost back to the forest trail, Dad asked me if I wanted to take the high road or the low road (that we took on the way in). What a question! I obviously wanted the high road, so we ran up the gigantic dune.
When we got to the top, the wind was blowing so hard that you could see the sand in the air. Some of it got in my eyes!
Dad told me that we had to run down the dune to get back to the car. This does not look like it is downhill, but it is. Wheeeeee!
Back in the woods, Dad stopped to take a picture of the white lichens growing out of the yellow moss --- always the science teacher. Ho Hum!
I stopped too, but for a much more important reason. I thought I saw a squirrel. I will have to tell Tequila about it. Well we made it back to the motor home, and it never did rain. I am glad that Dad and I had this time together. (Mom would not have liked it, and Tequila would still be laying down in the sand.) I think that the pet pictures of the day that Mom and Dad do are weird, but I do have a couple of closing pictures.
As soon as I got back, I assumed my position in the front seat of the motor home to make sure that nothing vicious came out of the water to attack us.
Within a minute, because of all the frolicking in the sand, I took a nap.