Eclipse 2017, Day 3: John Day day 1

While the good feelings of departing Bend sent us on to the beginning of our journey's next leg, they gave way to traffic between Prineville and Ochoco National Forest.  Though a bit slow for a short section, it was nothing an Angeleno family wasn't accustomed to.  Then the 2-lane state highway 26 came to a dead stop -- for the entire two miles visible from our car to the next bend in the road.  An eclipse festival was taking place in the forest.  The estimated 60,000-85,000 people had strained the local systems to the breaking point.

After 15 minutes of stopped traffic, there was no containing the spirit of the festival.  People spilled out of their cars, introducing themselves to each other and just generally hippie-ing out.  Among the things on display were pasties, butts, juggling, ukuleles, white-person dreadlocks, numerous converted school buses, fuzzy bikes, yoga, art car painting, people riding on tope of converted school buses, joints, all manner of manual wheeled conveyances, granola people, actual granola, a fuzzy Mutt Cutts van and (drum roll) Bob Marley.

After an hour of no vehicular movement whatsoever, we retreated to Prineville and picked a route south of the Ochoco National Forest along 380.  The drive through some forest, some mountains and some flat valleys was not only made in almost complete isolation, but was also both fun due to windiness of roads and pretty due to backdrop.

Exterior of Kam Wah Chung

We rolled in to John Day with under 20 miles on the car, vague plans surrounding campsites, a car we had to sleep in, 3 hungry bipeds, one hungry dog and fears white supremacy would be bolder in secluded, rural areas.  On the first item, we found the car charger almost immediately, one block west of Grant County's only traffic light.  It was attached to the same building as the Chamber of Commerce, which, small as it was, had been converted to eclipse information central.  As Dad was leaving the Chamber after having a look around, he thought to inquire about lodging.  Though ostensibly just small talk, the man started making phone calls, told Dad to download a phone app and gave him a list of campsites that were already full and not worth bothering with.

The kitchen at Kam Wah Chung

After failing to express his full gratitude, Dad stepped outside to hear Child speaking French with a Dutch couple.  They pointed us to Kam Wah Chung.  It seemed a bit hokie at first, but turned out to be the real deal.  It quite literally is a time capsule from 1948.  Mom loved it.  Child loved it.  Dad couldn't believe his eyes.  Dog, unfortunately, was not allowed in, forced to play in the attached park instead.

Sampling of the wall coverings at Kam Wah Chung

When we walked the block back to our car, the bike shop attached to the Chamber of Commerce had opened.  Russ and Lorin were talking amongst themselves and did what everyone in town had up to that point, be as friendly as can be.  Russ was the bike shop owner and Lorin ran the only local food truck.  When asked "Is 'vegan' on the menu," Lorin said "Yeah!" which was met by fist pumps in the air from Dad.  Lorin also mentioned his brother's property as a potential place for us to stay as we discussed our camping plan.

After exchanging numbers and saying thanks, we headed into town to explore.  It didn't take long to peruse every menu along the 2-block section of "town."  No menus had "vegan" on it, but one did have "hummus," a subtle yet clear dog whistle that even some carnivores can hear.  1188 ended up having a black bean burger in its fine print as well.  With Dog unable to enter the eatery, we took the food to our car to eat.  Still not sure whether to head into the forest for the night, a grey van with a faded red door and faded yellow Adidas stripes pulled up.  Lorin hopped out and Mom talked to him while Dad and Child ate.  It turns out there would be a vegan gathering for the eclipse.  Our city slicker instinct was "What game are you running?  Why are you being so nice to us?" Normally the answer is money.  Since we would have been happy to exchange such for what was offered, we kept these suspicions to ourselves.  Lorin proceeded to provide us with information about where we could sleep for the night with bathrooms and some amenities easily accessible.  Nothing dispels notions of forlorn evil quite like the offer of a comfortable place to take a dump.

Child played in the Canyon City park, which adjoins the parking area Lorin directed us to.  Mom and Dad contemplated whether this was indeed a good place to bed down for the night.  After experiencing the cleanest public bathrooms of our lives, we were convinced this was indeed worthy.  After Mom made friends in the historical brewery, the decision was cemented.

Morning after this Tesla's first use as a camper

After taking some time to transform the Tesla from road vehicle to sleeping quarters, we piled in for the night.  Not really knowing whether authorities or locals would hassle us, the night's sleep was neither the most comfortable nor the least fitful.  We did make it to the morning without incident.

In the morning, a loud, official looking pick up did tear around the corner to park two spots down from us.  Would we finally be hassled?  Were eyes on us catching us unawares?  Clanking metal.  A pole of some sort.  Huh?  Oh, just parks and rec turning on the park's sprinklers.  Nonetheless, Dog had been roused.  No sense in risking damage to the interior or pee stains.  Dad got up and took her for a walk.