Somewhere
in the desert of Oregon, at some point before the Lakeview Incident, our
odometer turned 14,000 miles. It turned 15,000 as we puttered out of Bandon on
Hwy 42, and I cannot think of a better way to put miles on a car than a drive
up to Crater Lake. Except for maybe a drive through Yellowstone, but that is a
story for a different time.
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| Camping at Diamond Lake c. 1995 |
Smell
is a strong trigger of memory. I have a candle that reminds me of my college dorm, some lotion that reminds me of living in
Beijing, a fishy backpack that
will always and forever bring back that bus ride in Cambodia (talk about a
story for a different time!). I tell you, though, that there is nothing in the
world quite like the smell of a Northwest pine forest. Except for maybe a
sagebrush plain… I might be slightly biased having grown up camping in the
forests of Oregon and Idaho, but the smell of pine always transports me to a
better place.
I
was transported to just such a place as we entered the Umpqua National Forest
on Hwy 138. Oh, what glorious air, so fresh and clean, dry and fragrant—all the
things I love from my past, and all the things air in Southeast Asia is not.
Not
much could have spoiled my piney ecstasy. However, there was a constant
niggling in the back of our minds that the increasing inland heat along with
the steady climb up to Crater Lake would cause our little car to balk.
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| Diamond Lake |
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| Mt. Thielsen |
Sure
enough, at a rest stop near Diamond Lake and Mt. Thielsen, we almost did not
get it started again. But then it did
start. So we drove straight through to the first viewpoint at Crater Lake.
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| Drive to the rim |
I
think it is difficult not to be impressed by Crater Lake. It still impresses me, though I am
probably not the best barometer for such things. MHH, on the other hand, is
more difficult to impress, but I knew he would love it, which he did. I even
thought I had better warn him not to wreck the car as he pulled up to the rim,
which he did not.
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| MHH takes in the beauty |
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| I just had to add this one of my grandparents at Crater Lake |
After
the requisite exclaiming and excessive snapping of photos, we decided to make a
move for the visitor center, but the Corvair would have none of it and
continued having none of it until I really felt quite awkward for all the people
looking and snickering at the silly couple with the old car that would not
start.
MHH
poked around under the hood. Passing men offered their observations (vapor lock,
huh?) and random bits of advice. The people parked next to us offered a jump.
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| The Corvair can't tear itself away from the crater |
But
the Yellow Bomb simply refused to start. It had a premium view of Crater Lake,
and it wanted to stay. Lovely though it was, we did not want to stay, so our final and fairly brilliant plan was to ditch
the visitor center, get the car rolling back down the road toward the north
entrance, achieve a speed of 20-25mph, and hope that the owner’s manual was
right about being able to push-start at speeds of 20-25mph.
I
would like to talk momentarily about the expectation I had on first reading the
term ‘push-start’ in the context of starting the Corvair. My expectation was
that a reasonable number of average people on an average road would be able to
push a Corvair to the eventual end of a started car. As you might recall from
the Lakeview Incident, in which two people pushing a Corvair on a flat road were
most definitely not able to achieve a ‘push-start’, my reasonable and average expectation
turned out to be very inaccurate. I dearly hoped that a ‘roll-start down an
8,000 foot mountain’ would be more successful.
If
you are the people who very graciously attempted jump-starting a yellow
Corvair, helped get that Corvair rolling down Mount Mazama, and then followed in
your own car that very same Covair as it coasted in neutral until the occupants
joyously waved and honked and gave you enthusiastic thumbs up, to you we are
ever so thankful—the plan worked!
Then,
not wanting to risk any more funny business, we drove straight to Bend where we
ate burgers and used a monstrosity called a phone book to find a room for the
night.
Turns
out that trying to find mid-range lodgings at late notice on a summer evening in
Bend is very difficult, so when we found one remaining room at Budget Inn for
$27.50, we hesitated only slightly to consider what we might get for that price
before we took it. I
will not be writing a five star review about it anytime soon, but we left in good health with
our car intact, so I consider it money well spent, or maybe money well saved.
Our road trip came full circle when we hit Burns again on Hwy 20. The Corvair had been running perfectly for a full day. We were happily exhausted. Nampa was only a few more miles down the road,
and all I could think was, ‘When is the next road trip?’
