Crescent City to Ashland to Fort Klamath

We had a quick brekkie, visited Walmart and then were on our way with a planned stop to do a last walk through a redwood forest. This time we stopped off at the Jedediah Smith Redwoods State Park.

Jedediah — meaning beloved of God — was one of those frontiersmen in American history. He was a trapper, explorer and trader (and probably a total rascal). The Smith River is named after him. He died at the ripe old age of 32. These days we have interns who are 32 and still finding themselves!

These state parks are really fantastic. Clean (no litter), well sign-posted. And just made accessible for everyone to enjoy. And most people do. In the JSR groves there were some poems displayed alongside the path. The one line that I loved was:

Nowhere on Earth is the air you breathe first exhaled by the lungs of giants

This was our last 'pilgrimage' to the redwoods. Something that was just bloody fantastic.

Then we headed to Medford, Oregon. The trip should be beautiful and in places, being alongside the Smith River, is. But vast areas have been devastated by wild fires. This has also caused landslides. So depressing and a real scary view of what our climate change future could look like.

We arrived in Medford with no plans on where to stay. So took break by visiting the Public Lands/Dicks Sporting Goods store (don't ask). Wow what a store. If we knew we had to give up our car in the not too distant future we'd have bought lots of stuff (we bought some liquid laundry soap and exercise bands!).

While there I was — just like my father — chatting to one of the service guys. I asked where we should stay in Metford. And he said, don't stay there. It's not cool. Rather go to Ashland.

Home to the world-famous Oregon Shakespeare Festival and ranked in the top 10 of “The 100 Best Small Art Towns in America,” Ashland is a cultural hot spot, with award-winning galleries, theaters and restaurants bursting from its seams.

So here we are. Staying at the wonderful Winchester Inn. A small boutique hotel with an oldy-worldy feel. But the bed! I think when John Denver was singing about his Grandma, he was thinking about our bed at the Winchester Inn.

Ashland is a very pretty and very doable town. And for some reason seems to have been taken over by board game nuts, crystologists, palm readers, tantric sex advocates and people who just really really like comics and comic characters.

And they really really like dogs.

As has become a habit, we booked into the hotel and then snuck into The Noble Fox micro-brewery. I had a porter ale and Karen a very strong Moscow Mule. Service was great and the brewer was very chatty and gave us some cool advice on what to do in Ashland.

Karen and I went for a long walk through Lithia Park. This is a safe park that meanders along Ashland Creek which also has two swimming holes (places). While there we heard the sound of helicopters and fire-engines racing to put out a forest fire. This is a common challenge now in these vast forests. And, as lots of people say, is only going to get worse.

We tried to get tickets for Macbeth but there were no shows on Tuesday (our last night). A bit disappointing. But we did find a book that is just up the street for our crochet-drama friends.

Keaton, Karen's nephew, had sold us on the idea of visiting Crater Lake. It's a difficult to find accommodation there. But we found a beautiful little cottage via AirBnb in Fort Klamath.

It is cold here. There is still snow on the mountains. And with a strong wind was freezing. But very beautiful. This is also beef country.

Today we go to Crater Lake. Tomorrow probably to Bend.