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We loved our beautiful free campground on the Coquille in the National Forest.
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There was only one other spot in use in the entire campground.
BUT we needed to have a hike and none of the trailheads were anywhere near.
R used his trail GPS and noticed a road that went along the opposite shore for awhile.

Alas, the bridge was closed up tight.

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We considered sliding through blackberry brambles to a huge log that looked cross able I would, I was sure be reduced to crawling, but who was watching?
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we tried a few places to cross. The boulders were so CLOSE to being a bridge.
R stepped on a teetering slab and wet his leather boots a bit.

In the end, we decided to Don our bogs and wade across or go rock to boulder nearer our camp and try to find the old road from there.

So, after a little lunch break, we slung our shoes over our shoulders and, I grabbed a stick and dry socks and off we lept waded and sloshed. I filled my boots at once!

We did a shoe change and bushwhacked up a steep slope then down to a creek bed, and headed off in the presumed direction of the road. over logs, up dirt cliffs grasping at branches and ferns, and minding the hidden leg breaking holes in the forest jumble.

We found either a Hobbit House, or a water tank.
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We trod most fragrant duff I ever inhaled.. Was it the Myrtle?
Slimey Cownose mushrooms, no truffles, no chanterelles.

And we found, to our delight, the most beautiful uninhabited cabin.
I had never seen a log house with bark intact before. We didn’t actually break in, we do have SOME sense of propriety,but Ron took photos through the window before I waved him back into the cover of the forest.
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I am sending this out two weeks later and my bogs are still boggy!

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