We rolled down the highway, silent now, faced with another 4 hours of driving after our first five. It was our anniversary, 4 years of marriage, 9 years together, and now…9 hours of driving together in the car. It wouldn’t have been so bad had we set out for a nine hour drive, but being that our destination was only 5 hours away, the news of an additional four hours did not sit well on our panini, pizza and marzipan pear. Our elation at having escaped for a weekend together, without our two small children, was quickly fading as we struggled to stay awake, heading back up the highway we had just come down.
It wasn’t until the next morning that we learned that ours was not an uncommon mistake. In fact, it was one that had been publicized nation wide by a few travelers much less fortunate than ourselves.
(http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2006/12/07/MNGTMMR4IU1.DTL)
Tu tu tun, a well appointed “rustic” lodge on the banks of the Rogue River, was our destination. The lodge had graciously sent us very clear directions from Portland, which, we, of course, in our haste to get out of town, did not look at. We had just passed Hwy 38, our safe haven crossing to the coastal 101, when I pulled out the directions. Realizing our error, we plugged in the Garmin, mistake number 2, which droned on and on about our new route. Passing Hwy 42 near Roseburg, we phoned our fishing guide for the next day, failing to confirm our chosen route. At this point, we were destined to become another “fish tale”. Checking our map, we buzzed down the 5 towards Grants Pass, planning a quick and direct route along the Rogue and over to Gold Beach.
9pm…we turned off the 5 heading toward Galice.
9:20pm…we turned south of Galice onto BLM something something, this should have been a clue, BLM???
9:35pm…after winding, winding, winding, higher, higher, higher, the road growing darker, narrower, darker, narrower…we reached a gate, ROAD CLOSED. I knew it, I had had bad feelings about the BLM, and the whole adventure was starting to sound all too familiar, in a bad way. A young family had been lost on this road a year ago I thought. “This isn’t the road” my husband said. He contemplated trying the gate. He didn’t, that would have been mistake number 3.
9:45pm….we returned to Galice, heading west, so we thought. At this point, we were actually driving north, though we didn’t realize it until we wound round and round, higher higher, darker, darker, to a sign…the 5, 15 mi this way, 22mi that way, Gold Beach…not on the sign. Mistake number 4. You should always go back the way you came, we did not.
10:15pm…After winding, winding, winding, luckly, we unraveled ourselves and found a small gas pump at Wolf Creek. The attendan had no idea how to get to Gold Beach. Bad sign. If we were within 40 mi driving distance, as we had thought, he would have had traveled there, or maybe not, Wolf Creek was pretty hopping that night at the pump.
10:30pm…Back on the 5, headed north to the 42, across to the 101 and south, a mere 4 hour detour.
2:00am….”Did you see that dinosaur?” I asked my husband, the same guy who can spot a turkey in the middle of a field 100yds away, a chucker on a hillside, a bobcat in the brush, a deer on a dark roadside. “Dinosaur?!? What Dinosaur” “The lifesize brontosaurus? Oh there’s a TRex!” He looked at me, eyes half open, dazed, and looked forward at the road. “No” he said.
6am… On a boat, in the middle of the Rogue, recalling our night’s adventure. It was the highway of the Kim Family, the missing RV fugitive party, the young hunter that passed away. A route notorious for snagging would be passerbys for a “3 hour tour”. We would have been better off heading south all the way to California and back up along the 101. Would have saved ourselves 2 hours; but, we, unlike so many others, had arrived. “You can thank the Kim family for that gate” our guide said. I was thankful, safe now, floating, rocking gently, chuckling over our bull headedness, happy to have an ending to our misadventure.
