I’m a huge fan of the Race to Alaska, a 750 mile race from Port Townsend to Ketchikan without motors, but it was cancelled again this year. My shtick is to rent an RV spot at the marina where the boats congregate before the race, but to guarantee the spot requires making a reservation a year in advance. I reluctantly gave up my place this year.

R2AK is a creation of Dan Evans, who wondered if a race could be put together of wildly disparate craft (super-fast catamarans against stand-up paddle boards) and have it mean something to people. It worked. Sometimes the super-fast win, other times it’s a surprise. In a Dan Evans race, it’s the heart and dreams of the low-placers that matter, where the inspiration means more than the fancy boat. Finish first in R2AK? Cool. Finish 40th? Even cooler.

Dan needs to keep his story going with or without R2AK so he invented another race which starts on Monday. Like R2AK it’s without motors, but unlike R2AK your boat can have a motor, you just can’t use it. Racers must adhere to the covid rules in any place they stop. The race is confined to Washington state waters as Canada does not permit folk to cross the border.

I’m skeptical, but I’ll tune in and see what happens. More later.

Back in regular lot

I moved back to my own lot after the contractors rebuilt the septic system behind me. I have a net loss of square footage now to allow for the larger footprint of the system. And, all new fresh gravel in the wrong places.

Monday is my MRI on my heart, and I expect in a few days I’ll be going in for an angioplasty to set a stent. Consequently I am foregoing the chore of moving gravel around until after things settle down on that front.

My neighbor, the one who had his RV so permanently installed on his lot, took a big hit with loss of space for his plastic storage sheds. But, he had extra gravel put in to level out his rig when he moved in, which was removed during construction. So he did the expected thing and ordered up some more to be put on his lot.

That was done, except it was dumped about 6 feet away from where he wanted it. Now he’s moving it, reminding me how nice it would be with a known good heart. I hope he knows that.

Things change quickly

Last week I had a “heart event” and spent three days in the hospital, mainly for tests. It’s been seven years since my bypasses and I haven’t had any problems since.

I was taught back then how and when to use nitroglycerin, which includes the step “Call 911”. I did, and the EMS guys gave me another nitro and 4 chewable aspirin. This likely saved my life. But, I waited far too long before making the move.

Tests show another blockage on the heart, and some small amount of damage to the heart muscle. The fix is a tough problem, and requires another test (an MRI on the heart) in a couple of weeks. Meanwhile, I’m living on a brute-force medication to keep the blood flowing.

I’m still on my temporary lot while the septic system is replaced behind my regular lot. I was surprised to see that my entire lot has been excavated down to 8 feet, leaving the shed and the concrete pad on top of mesas. The work is moving efficiently, though.

Wonder what tomorrow will bring….

Changed Lots

I moved onto another lot to allow construction of a new septic system behind my lot. I have zero brown sheds in my view and look directly on trees. This is perfectly acceptable to me for the next 2-4 weeks.

I haven’t written much about legal marijuana lately. I presume those interested in the topic can find their own way around current events that interest them. The surprisingly large number of states passing laws has grown so fast as to defy generalizations.

I watch WA, OR, and CA when it comes to legislation, regulation, and culture. They have VERY distinct differences, much more so than I thought possible.

As more states legalize, or bring up medical programs, the patchwork of different laws, rules, and cultures increases. This will be a royal pain in the ass as we start to talk about the differences over state-line borders about taxes, interstate commerce, and conflicting criminal laws. Unfortunately, federal changes won’t help much as the state systems will be quite solidified.

Not my style…

While I have to move onto another lot for a few weeks, it’s not that big a deal. I’ve done that operation nearly a thousand times.

My neighbor, though, arrived about 6 years ago in their Class B Leprechaun (about 32 feet) and hasn’t moved it since. They bought it in Ohio, drove to Chimacum, and that’s the way it’s been ever since. Now he has to move his rig.

They quickly filled the lot’s shed, then added one of the Rubbermaid outdoor storage boxes on the lot. That grew to 4.

He’s an inventor or engineer. They have what we in RV’ing refer to as a “black water tank” problem: He insists on emptying and cleaning his tank DAILY. To that end, he invented an elaborate plumbing system to accomplish that task, almost permanently installed. As elaborate as it is, it still requires he sits outdoors in the rain every day to run the valves and such.

Now he has to move his rig, as well as the storage boxes. Which means dismantling his tank cleaning system. He’s run the engine on the Class B once a month quite faithfully. Last summer he installed a tire-inflation system consisting of a pump and lines which ran to all the tires, which had gradually lost pressure over 5 years. That had to be dismantled as well, of course. There’s also a satellite TV system, and what the hell he’s done with the propane tanks I can’t see and don’t want to know.

Maybe some people just aren’t made for the RV life….

PS Our park requires that all rigs be road-legal and movable at all times. I have my doubts about some of the park models here, though.


While in Fort Bragg, I went into the clinic to have a lump on my arm identified. I was advised to get home to my doctor quickly.

My goal for this two-month trip was to see if I could fill up 2 months by spending a week or two here and there at my favorite places. To return home, I’d have to cut the experiment in half. And return to Chimacum much sooner than planned, which might be impacted by the septic replacement going on behind my lot.

I stayed out my week at Fort Bragg and headed north on 101 as quickly as possible. After 5 days I was in Newport, OR, and made the decision to use I-5 (ugh) and go for it. I had a doctor’s appointment on Monday.

Pulling up to my lot it was obvious the planned septic replacement hadn’t happened. Oh well, I’ll hear later what the deal is.

My doctor took a biopsy and sent it off to the lab, and told me we’d hear later in the week what kind of cancer it is. So I’m waiting for that.

Meanwhile, one of the park’s board members came by and told me I had to move off my lot next week because the work was starting. I was pissed, and he was deeply sorry. Later I remembered that I had planned this trip with a return date of June 1, which would have worked had I not been identified as having skin cancer.

Today I worked with the office and picked a lot I could use for the next month or whatever. It’s big attraction: Not a brown shed in sight of my windows.

Happy Tuesday.

Fort Bragg (CA)

I was here last spring when the first lockdown happened. It was nice that the lady that runs this place knew that and welcomed me back. It’s been a long year.

Harbor RV Park is a piece of property perched on a head overlooking the Noyo River and Pacific Ocean, and includes a tiny harbor below. CA 1 is yards from me.

I’ll be here a week; the weather is cool and typical marine coastline.

A Big Disappointment

I found the Solar Living Center in Hopland, Ca, way back when I first started traveling. I described it as “The Whole Earth Catalog brought to life”. A large grounds with a store, solar panels, water treatment exhibits, and whatever it took to go back to the land.

Several years ago the store closed down. A licensed pot shop went in fairly soon after legalization. It was notable because one could partake on the grounds, a rarity in legal states. I was there last year just before the pandemic.

It couldn’t survive the pandemic and is now closed up. It was a living museum of the alternative culture that arose around here.

California Legal Pot

It’s a mess. That is the assessment of growers, processors, newspapers, county officials, retailers, all licensees, law enforcement, radio hosts, state politicians, and the legislature about the California legal cannabis laws and regs. And where I am now, Ukiah in Mendocino county, they’ve got their own problems.

Mendocino County, one of the cannabis-growing counties of the Emerald Triangle, has about 1,000 state-licensed legal growing operations. Even after legalization in 2016, about 9,000 have yet to be licensed, so are “illegal”.

The great bureaucratic red-tape licensing procedure in California is to blame for this, everyone agrees. But even those 1,000 that have state licenses are only holding “temporary” licenses, due to expire at the end of the year until the state can figure out how to grant permanent licenses. When they do, Mendocino licensees won’t be able to convert because the Mendo county zoning rules conflict with state law. They’ve got to get it straight real quick or the entire county will be illegal. Kinda like declaring grapes illegal in Napa County.

Why? How in the world can California fuck up growing weed? Arrogance, hubris, “We’re California and we know how to do this”. Turns out they didn’t.

Start over, California. Your current cannabis laws are the worst in the nation.


I’ve done it. I’m where I wanted to be. It was a good run down the Oregon coastline and it’s views.

I needed to complete a couple of tasks in Eureka, then went into Arcata to check out the town square. Today was the day for the Humboldt County Farmer’s Market. The town square is very small, and likely the most pliable place holding humans I can think of. It’s dynamics change by the seconds.

The market brought a load of people to the square; the sellers had colorful canopies set up. It looked great.

The city has planted blooming cherry trees around the square. Today was the peak day for the blossoms, covering the entire square in petals blown by a brisk wind off the ocean. I drove away through a fog of pink flowers.