It’s time to break camp again.
After a few days of exploring the coast north and south of Florence, Oregon, the crew and I mosey southward, stopping for lunch, potty breaks, photos, and ocean-gazing.
I drive out to Cape Blanco and find it is obscured by the heaviest fog I’ve come across since arriving at the west coast.
We stop for the night at Harris State Park Campground near Brookings in southern Oregon.
It’s now late in the afternoon on a Friday. Not my usual timing for a new camp.
We need to keep moving as camping along the coast is more expensive than our budget is used to. 
Harris is a big, well-designed campground sitting in a gazillion-dollar-gorgeous location. We pull up to the entrance booth and talk with two very efficient ladies handling 58 reservations, as well as no-reservation wanderers such as ourselves lined up for entry.
The lady looks at my rig and asks if I’d be happy with a tent site.
“It looks like you could fit into any of these sites,” she circles three on a map with her highlighter. “They don’t have electric though. They’re $20 a night.”
“A tent site would be great. I’ll be back in a few minutes to let you know what I choose.”
The campsite I pick is the most difficult back-in I’ve faced so far.
There’s a campsite opposite ours with an Airstream and a tow vehicle blocking the space needed to turn off the narrow lane.
Fortunately the owner immediately jumps in his SUV to get it out of the way and motions that I can pull up into his site to get into position.
I ask him to watch that I don’t clip his Airstream’s tongue when the nose of the PTV swings around as I back in, because it’s gonna’ be close.
It takes several back-and-forths.
At one point the helpful gentleman asks if I want him to try it. I respond with a smile, “What would you do that I’m not doing?” He says to try turning the wheel more sharply. I show him how it quickly leads to a jacknife. He nods his head.
“Don’t worry,” I remark. “I’ll get it in a minute.”
A few more tries and the PTV is in her new home!
Later the gentleman tells me that the smaller the trailer, the harder it is to back in. “They do jacknife backing up a lot quicker than the bigger trailers.” His trailer is 19-feet. We both agree that a small trailer is the way to go. I add, “Otherwise I wouldn’t be parking here at all!”
By the time I get us settled and I take a little break, it’s almost dusk.
Spike and I accompany Bridget in her stroller down to the day use area. I’ve become accustomed to these areas being places where you can look out over the Pacific or you can climb down a long and steep embankment to the beach. I don’t expect we’ll be going to the beach, what with Bridget in a stroller.
To my surprise, there’s a walkway down to the beach!
We explore the tidal pools and beach a little bit. Then we sit at a picnic table and watch some guys in wet-suits ride boards on the waves. Since I didn’t expect to be on the beach, I didn’t bring my camera. It’s really getting too dark for photos anyway.
We only stay at Harris State Park Campground for one night.
For a crowded campground, it’s amazingly quiet at night. We get a good night’s sleep. The shower is hot which is a delight what with the increasingly cold and damp weather. Before leaving I refill empty water jugs and make a stop at the dump station.
We’re off for a brief visit to Cal-uh-for-neye-aye before returning to Oregon via the road to Grants Pass.
rvsue
rvsue and her canine crew 