We left Goose Lake in Oregon on Monday, and after acquiring some necessary (and some unnecessary) maps, we asked the kind public servant at the Inter-agency Forest Service Info place if there was a bakery in Lakeview (first town near Goose Lake). She offered directions to the Green Mt. Deli and Doughnuts, where we popped in and bought a dozen of the biggest and most delicious-looking doughnuts I've seen in at least 30 years!  We almost entirely filled our teeny fridge and freezer with a dozen huge, fried, sugary mounds of goodness - apple fritters that weigh as much as a small cat, maple-frosted cinnamon snails, nut-encrusted chocolate-frosted glazers. And since we no longer have any room in the refrigerator for "real" food, I guess we're just eating doughnuts for the next week.

We spent the night at Upper Jones Crossing Forest Camp on the Chewaucan River, then took a little hike the next day at the Chewaucan Crossing. We shared the trail with some of our bovine friends, who, though they weren't there at the same time, had left their distinctive patties as a vivid reminder that "we aren't alone" on our journeys.

Next stop: last night we spent at Silver Creek Marsh Campground outside of Silver Lake, Oregon. There are 17 campsites - not a soul in any of 'em. There are corrals and hitching rails for horses at some of the sites, and a marshy sort of a creek (no mosquitoes, though) behind the other campsites. There is a great well pump across from our site that we used to wash off the chair and my clothes when we experienced the first wine tragedy of our trip: my camp chair simply failed to hold up the glass of Red Moscato I had placed in the beer-can-holder, and an entire glass sprawled itself over me and said camp chair. Aside from this, we are in heaven with clean pit toilets (including RazzleDazzleBlueberry Hand Sanitizer) and no one else in the entire campground. For six bucks a night, this is awesome. We're out of water, though (thanks to the Chinook 36 water tank) and so we are heading to LaPine State Campground (from whence I am now typing, and which is sorta noisy, and as dry and dusty as an old hiking boot, and will be filling up - reservation-wise - in anticipation of Labor Day Weekend). We may just head for the cool, wet, coast next.