The Route
The Epic Roadtrip from the Bay, to Montana, to Seattle, and back to the Bay.
Oakland to Klamath Falls
The first day of our adventure was a banner day. The destination was somewhere between Klamath Falls and Bend, Oregon, but the route was really undetermined.
I stopped at Costco in Redding to purchase a massive cooler and lots of ice — it was 107 degrees outside. When returning to the freeway, I saw a sign for Lassen Volcanic National Park just a wee bit of a detour from my sort of planned route. In that moment, I made a new roadtrip rule:
If there is a National Park within 50 miles, it must be visited. No exceptions.
I had never heard of Lassen until meeting the folks who sold me Tiny. That’s where they were moving! She was a park ranger at Lassen for years apparently, and all of her friends were still there. What a funny coincidence.
Though it was certainly beautiful, what I found most fascinating was that it was scorching hot in Redding, and I was standing in snow just 50 miles (and a couple thousand feet in elevation) away. Mother Nature is crazy sometimes.
Klamath Falls to Coeur d’Alene
Staying true to my new rule, Day 2 required a visit to Crater Lake National Park.
Oh. My. Goodness.
When I caught my first glimpse of the lake, I literally gasped. Lake Tahoe is blue, for sure. But Crater Lake’s blue is next level.
Crater Lake seemed both huge and tiny at the same time. Did the expansive bluffs and cliffs dropping straight into the lake create an optical illusion? I don’t know. What I do know is that Crater Lake is definitely in my top 5 most beautiful places viewed with my own eyeballs. Mind blown.
The rest of the drive was booooooorrring. I mean, the high desert was beautiful, but exactly the same for miles and miles and miles and miles and miles.
The stretch from Kennewick to Spokane — there are no words. Maybe even more boring than driving across Kansas? That’s saying a lot.
Coeur d’Alene to Kalispell to Davenport, Washington
This was the big day!! Tiny finally made it out of Montana!!
I had to pinch myself a couple times to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. I’d finally made my actual dream come true. As I pulled out of Kalispell with Trudy pulling Tiny, I took a look at the beautiful scenery, gave myself a pat on the back, and began planning all the adventures ahead.
The destination was somewhere past Spokane so that the remaining drive to Chelan would be short in the morning. I rolled into the Two Rivers RV Resort at 10:30 or so, partly delirious, but mostly excited. Since it was rather late to be checking in to a rather remote spot, the friendly folks wanted to know what I was up to.
“Where are you coming from?”
“I started in Coeur d’Alene this morning, then drove to Kalispell to pick up my new trailer, and now I am here…in Davenport, Washington.”
“Kalispell, Montana? Whoa.”
“Well, actually, I started in San Francisco on Friday.”
“YOU JUST NEED TO CALM DOWN.” 😂
We all laughed. But the dude was right! Needless to say, I slept very well that night.
Davenport to Chelan for a pitstop with my very best friend
I am the luckiest gal in the whole wide world to have the very, VERY best friend in the entire universe. We met on my very first day as the middle-of-the-year-new-kid in 8th grade. She called me “Lauren” and we have been best friends ever since. I can talk about her for days and days and days, but that’s for another post (or 50). Her family — my second family — goes to Chelan for a week every summer. Earlier in the spring, I planned to meet them there, but then my work plans changed (insert: San Francisco on-site client) and it didn’t look like I was going to be able to go. Whomp, whomp. There’s always next year, I thought.
But then, on like June 21st, I texted my bestie with the crazy idea to change the rental pickup truck dates to include a stop in Chelan. (If you want to read alllllll about that part of the trip, see this post Introducing Trudy the Truck.) If you are connecting all the dots, yes, I literally invited myself to join them on their vacay like four days beforehand. I mean, how rude is that?! For realz.
However comma, we had THE BEST time. Sunning, shopping, laughing, cooking, boating, pooling, more laughing, and all the other things.
I am so fortunate and thankful to have a best friend who will let me show up and insert myself at any time, anywhere. Every time we are together, I learn from her wisdom, am inspired by her thoughtfulness about the world and our role in it, cherish the friendship with have, and absolutely laugh my butt off until I ugly cry.
The Chelan pitstop was the best. ❤️❤️❤️
Chelan to Woodinville for the 40th surprise birthday party
After filling my heart to its fullest with my bestie in Chelan, I headed west to Woodinville where I got to stuff even more love in.
Another dear friend from high school turned the big 4-0 and 100+ of us surprised the heck out of him. It was a surprise of epic proportions.
For months, we had all worked so hard to keep the secret from Mr. Unsurprisable. Just before the whole shebang started, we decided that it was too much of a risk to let the birthday boy walk by Trudy and Tiny since they are both so flashy and I’d plastered them all over the socials. The likelihood of him seeing the duo and thinking, “Hmmm, that trailer looks like Sarah’s new one. And didn’t she just buy a bright red truck? I wonder if she is randomly here in Woodinville? Oh it must be a surprise!” was infinitesimally small, but it wasn’t worth the risk. He is that smart. Sooo, half wearing a dress (for the first time in years), I ran through the parking lot, hopped in Trudy and moved behind a hedge where I then proceeded to finish changing in the parking lot in true Sarah form.
The party was a blast — old friends, new friends, love, laughter, and so much fun.
Woodinville to the “On-the-River Golf and RV Resort” in Myrtle Creek, OR
Yeah, what the heck is a golf and RV resort? I am still not sure and I stayed there.
Most of the day was spent in Seattle at the birthday boy’s house where the surprise party continued. His amazing wife flew in his favorite chef and we had a feast for the record books. Shameless plug for Chef Gerard, and his restaurant Carlitos Gardel Argentine Steakhouse in LA. His chimichurri is life-changing… so were the empanadas. Lucky for us, you can buy the chimichurri on Amazon. More fun. More friends. More laughs. More love.
Then a really stinking long drive across most of Washington and almost all of Oregon to Myrtle Creek. I did not know Myrtle Creek existed until then. When Steve — the toothless, Carhartt coverall-wearing proprietor of the golf and RV resort — recommended I get the biscuits and gravy at the gas station, I knew I’d had my fill of Myrtle Creek.
Myrtle Creek to San Francisco. Nope, Myrtle Creek to Willow Creek, CA.
The plans changed again. The plans changed again. Hi ho, the derry-o, the plans changed again.
The original plan for day 10 was to make it to the Bay, drop Tiny off in storage, spend the night in a hotel, then fly home the following day. Well, I did not plan for finding storage to be so difficult. In Montana, I literally googled, found the place, signed up online, got my gate code, and was good to go in the span of about ten minutes. I should have known better — everything in California is impossible.
After calling like 29278949248 storage facilities allllll over the Bay Area, I learned that I needed to complete the process in person, have a copy of the registration and some other proof of ownership, provide a droplet of blood for DNA analysis, and rub my head and pat my belly at the same time in order to reserve a parking spot. And the holiday weekend didn’t make things any easier.
When it became clear that I would NOT be parking Tiny, staying in a hotel, and flying home the next day, I took a right in Yreka and headed for the Redwoods. Windy mountain roads tested Trudy’s towing capabilities (15/10 highly recommend) and I got to explore Bigfoot country in Northern Cali. When I got to my Hipcamp, it started pouring rain, so exploring was mostly out of the question. However, the big trees, the smells, the hiking options have me so excited to come back.
Willow Creek to Half Moon *HONK* Bay
After adjusting plans, finding a place to store Tiny that wasn’t the price of my mortgage or require me to sacrifice a limb in order to reserve a spot, and enjoying the peaceful sounds of raindrops on Tiny, I headed south to Half Moon [HONK] Bay. My thinking was that Half [HONK] Moon Bay would be the perfect spot to spend my final night on this adventure. It’s close to the storage place, easily accessible, and on the beach. I’ve stayed in Half Moon Bay [HONK] once before, and the damn fog horn HONKED all night. I thought that my luck couldn’t be so unfortunate the second time, but boy was I wrong. [HOOONK!!] The stupid thing honked the whole time I was there again. Isn’t the definition of insanity doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results? Well, Half Moon [HONK] Bay, I guarantee I will not be coming back because I am not willing to risk the chance of another night of the [HONK] fog horn.
SFO —> ANC! I made it HOME!
[HONK] Good morning from Half [HONK] Moon [HONK] Bay [HONK]! STFU!
After getting the f@&$ out of Half Moon Bay [HONK], I was at Tiny’s storage place before it opened. I dropped her off without any issues and made my way to the airport. I made it through security in no time (thank you pre-check) and actually had time to breathe before boarding the plane.
And…I got upgraded to first class. #iflyalaska
Finalllllly, after 3,150 driving miles and a couple thousand more air miles, I made it home. My mom and Mozzy Girl greeting me at the airport was the perfect welcome home.