FIELD OF DAISES

I am currently right in the middle of writing my next book. It will be out in May. The title is: TRIPPING ON OREGON'S TREASURES Gathering Gems to Pave Memory Lane. It is solely a book with stories of my travels these past few years. Noted in the book are references to this blog so readers can find colored pictures of the black & whites published in the book. This beauty of the white horse in a field of daises has never made it into the blog so I figured it was about time. This being winter and all, we do need an infusion of Spring. So here it is. Enjoy, and just wait--in May the new book will be ready for you. In the mean time, I hope you are planning your adventures for next Summer. Now's the time. Planning is part of the fun. GO WILD! 

WINTER'S ON THE WAY

It's always such a surprise to me how beautiful Autumn can be. Even though I have experienced a "few" of them, I never tire of the exquisite beauty of a golden tree when the sun hits it square in the face or of a bush preparing for winter with all it's different colors.

Having just finished the Albany Bazaar, I had the pleasure of meeting a number of you. I thank you for your kind words and encouragement. Since most of you know "how to get out" the primary request has been for more of my stories. So, I will be spending my winter on my treadmill typing, typing, typing to get a book of stories done by May. The glorious part of doing so will be in the reliving my stories while I set them to print for you. Stay tuned, I will keep you posted.

If you are new to my blog, please subscribe by entering your email into the subscription field on the right. That allows new posts to be sent to your email. I wish you all a warm, snuggy winter with thoughts of hiking trails and bird song as you plan your coming adventures.

SUMMER 2014 GONE, NOT FORGOTTEN

Summer 2014 is history. It was a wonderful one though wasn't it? I saw some places that were new, visited some familiar spots and made some rich discoveries. What more could a person ask? Well, I hope you had time to get out for a bit and take in a breath of fresh air.

I spent 11 days on the Author's Table at the Oregon State Fair to close out the official summer. While visiting with one man, he said his mother told him there were only 7 days in the week and none of them were named "Someday". That is the thought I would like to send out to each of you who plan to visit wilderness areas "someday" when you have time. Please think of how much you will treasure the time spent if you just do it presently...or maybe next summer. Don't let life slip by like the North Umpqua in the first pix below. It slides smoothly by with barely a ripple, then BOOM, hits the rocks. That's how our lives seem to run. Enjoy the smooth time and renew your spirit for the inevitable times when life hits the rocks.

The second pix was taken at Clear Lake, the head waters of the McKenzie River. I made it up there in early September but knew the autumn colors would be outstanding later in the month so made a quick trip up early in October for that pix. The fire-red of the vine maples reminds me of the molten lava that slid to create this ice infested lake. Fire and ice, the real deal in the autumn months at Clear Lake. 

THE NORTH UMPQUA ROCKS

Having heard about the beauty of the North Umpqua River area from my sister Shirley Woods for years, and years, and years (well you get the picture), I finally found time to check it out. As per usual, big sis is right. And how! There were not enough pull-out spots to get all the wonderful pix that nearly brought me up side a tree, but I did get a few (hundred). Along Highway 138 there are many (at least 6) waterfalls that are well marked with trails to hike for viewing. My main goal on this trip was to see the cliffs and falls of Toketee. Well, my pix does not do it justice. When you go be prepared for a journey up, up, and up which means down, down, and down, then more of the same coming out. But every step was beautiful and well worth it. And just think of the calories burned.

The top pix here is a close up of Umpqua River sandstone rocks. I was really taken with the color and shadowing presented. Well, moving on, the bottom pix is the elegant Toketee. Look at those Basalt Cliffs! Is that a Wow! or what? I hope you add this hike to your bucket list.

WHERE WILD FLOWERS BLOOM

Here at the Oregon State Fair one can find wild flowers in the most unusual places. As you walk around the various exhibits you will find treasures where you least expect them. To all of you folks who picked up my card with this blog address, I say "Welcome aboard!"  I hope you made some memories to keep you company in the years to come.

If you are unfamiliar with the "blogisphere" please enter your email address in the "subscription" field on the upper right of this blog to enable you to receive future blog posts via your email as I do them. Generally I post a few pix and write a few paragraphs of my trips upon my return home. Since I have been at the Oregon Authors table for the past 9 days with 2 to go I have not posted travel-centric pix. But I wanted to take minute to welcome you to my blog and invite you to click on the earlier posts to get a sense of what Oregon has to offer YOU.

As we all proceed to TRIPPING ON A SHOESTRING consider what one person told me, "I will probably die of old age before I grow up." That is my wish for us all. Go Wild!

TRIPPING AT STATE FAIR

Eleven days is how long the Oregon State Fair runs. Eleven days to meet folks and talk about "Tripping On a Shoestring". Eleven days to sell enough books to make it "worth while". The yellow water lilies in the pix below reminds me why I am really here. My goal is to let people know how easy it is to get away from home, out of the familiar rut, and explore the beautiful country surrounding us. 

As I contemplate the pix below, I am reminded of the fresh air, sunlight and calm feelings that await those of us who actually sit alongside a pond and enjoy it's beauty. My little "how-to" manual awaits any of you who think you are "too": Too busy; too old, too poor, too tied down, too...you name it. But please don't claim it. One of the wonderful folks who crossed my path this week said, "There are seven days in a week and none of them are named TOMORROW." I love that. 

So, if you think you can't, you are right. If you think you can, you are right. I hope to see you on the trail. Let's enjoy each day. Treat it as if it's your last. That's my attitude because I drive on Lancaster Drive here in Salem, Oregon. It behooves me take a deep breath and leap into today's breech. I never know where I will land, but land, I will! You will too. Make it a soft one!

IT'S ABOUT THE FOG!

It's all about the fog. While members of my wonderful family think it's because of the family reunion that I travel to the coast this week, I'm telling you: It's all about the fog. 

We, who live in the Willamette Valley have had a heat wave this summer rendering all valley residence into puddles of sweat. On the east side of the Cascade Range where summers generally carry 90+ temperatures it is considered a "dry heat". There is nothing "dry" about the Willamette Valley heat. It is muggy and damp mimicking the way those of us who live there feel.

While on highway 38 heading west my van’s thermometer read in the high 80's as I headed for the coast. Approaching Reedsport along the Umpqua River I saw the first vestiges of fog.

Fog! It soothes my eyes better than the most expensive sunglasses. As soon as I drive under it’s gentle embrace, I feel my forehead relax. 

Then there’s fog’s effect upon my nose. What set of sinuses doesn’t wish for the moist coolness arriving on a fog-bound breath?

But most of all it’s my skin. Well, as my body still radiates accumulated heat, my arms are already sprouting goose bumps. Goose bumps! Just think of that. What a delicious feeling.

Here on the Oregon coast fog does not “steal in on little feet” as fog is so often described in books. No! It tromps in like Big Foot as it stomps through valleys and shoves it’s way up the hills. The vegetation sighs in relief and grows like it’s in a race to be the biggest and best. 

Fog dampens with a dew loved by all plants. You can tell by the way they respond. I think even the spider who spun the web in my pix below enjoys the morning mist as much as I do.

RELAX

The only good reason I can find to constantly nag people to get out and "take a hike" exists purely because I want to share what I experience while I do just that. Knowing it's not for everyone, I will give that a rest. My new mandate to myself includes the nag "relax" so that will start tomorrow.

My latest trip was a three day camp-out next to the glorious crystal clear Metolius River. To follow up on my "relax" mandate I actually pulled my camp chair up within three feet of the rushing water in the shade and watched the river flow, as the old song said. A cool breeze blew over the water providing me with a rare and delicious moment of coolness not experienced in this month of the Willamette Valley heat wave. Every once in a while a warm patch of air would blow across my face bringing with it the aroma of warm pine. Yum!

Each evening and morning I took my camera for the "river walk" which is a two mile trail up one side of the river and down the other. The morning and evening light presents a different picture with each passing step. The top pix below was taken late as the evening sun was setting. Sun light filtered through the Ponderosa Pine needles and glittered off the river ripples creating diamonds rivaling a jewelry store display in June. The bottom pix came out of the morning light as it hit the far river bank while the shade formed upon the water to provide a perfect canvas.

So, there you have it: My reasons for being such a nag. I hope you all find your perfect place to relax and enjoy the light. 

CLEAR LAKE REFLECTIONS

Our morning sun had not shown its face over the horizon as I started off to take my morning hike on the Clear Lake trail. Clear Lake is an icy cold spring lake that becomes the headwaters of the McKenzie River in the Cascade Range of Oregon.  

About 3,000 years ago, give or take a day or two, Sand Mountain erupted. The resulting lava flowed toward a cold river right where it "sprung" out of the earth. While sliding toward the ice cold river the molten hot lava burned forests growing in its path. Upon hot lava reaching the icy water it stopped thereby causing a wall of lava that back-filled the river to create a lake. It happened so fast that the existing forest still stands beneath the cold lake preserved in the icy waters we now call Clear Lake.

Much of the trail surrounding Clear Lake crosses these ancient lava flows. Vine Maple and numerous other plants dot the lava bed with an occasional old growth fir thrown in. Interspersed with the lava between flows the Douglas Fir lives to create dense old growth forests making for a varied path. 

All along the trail views of the lake avail themselves making for very slow going. I don't know about you, but I cannot walk and "gawk off" at the same time without toxic results. While my book “Tripping On a Shoestring” is not about ‘tripping’ I have been known to take a few disastrous spills. So it's walk a few steps, stop and gawk off, take a few more steps, ooh photo op, snap, snap, few more steps...well you get the idea. Since it's such slow going, I only made it half way and back in two hours. But the side I walked on gave me the best photo light for pix of the lake. I hiked on the east edge with the rising sun striking the west side highlighting the reflective beauty of tall pines perfectly reproduced in the calm waters of the lake. The brilliant blue sky reflected with a bit of white puffs here and there for the back-drop.

It’s an easy trail, each step filled with eye-popping sites. Shallow coves hold turquoise water reflecting lime blades of water-loving grasses. Why would any of us want to miss out on this? Please take a day or two to pause and “reflect” in the icy water of Clear Lake. It will give you one more treasure for your Memory Treasure Chest. Here in Oregon, you can "get rich quick" by just stopping to reflect.

TAKING STEPS

On this old planet, we all must take steps. Even a river as it leaves it's source takes steps to reach the ocean. Those of us humans who wish to view such a river must take steps to get there. Steps! Whether coming up or going down it gets us to where we want to be. As we advance in the direction of our dreams we can only do so "one step at a time" so why not start now? The sooner that first step is taken the sooner the journey begins. While the destination is the supposed goal, I contend that the actual journey is more satisfying. Maybe I say that since the illusive goal is yet to be reached. But one foot in front of the other advances me one step closer to attaining new views, arriving at new conclusions, and feeling compelled to continue on. My hope is that as this summer progresses you and I can continue this progress while "Tripping On a Shoestring". Go WILD!

POETRY ABOUNDS

From time to time, it just so happens that a poet crosses our path. He may be long gone but his poetry lives on in our hearts. Such an event occurred recently while I read e. e. cummings. One of his poems ended thus: "...the sweet small clumsy feet of April came

                       into the ragged meadow of my soul."

I have never heard April so well described. This and that spring are past. Summer is here. Don't miss a moment of it. You don't get it back.

MIST & MOSS ON THE MC KENZIE RIVER

My last outing was up the McKenzie River on Highway 126. This being summer, it was in the 90's when I drove up the Cascade foothills to an old campground located in an old-growth forest. Some of the Douglas Fir trees are 10' in diameter and are said to have been old when Columbus set sail. 

The McKenzie River emits a mist rising into the surrounding trees allowing moss to grow on every surface. The camp host informed me of a special spot to view the river. Once there, I nearly fell over in a heap.  The first pix below is what I saw. The rocks are all coated with chartreuse moss. Trees that had taken root on rocks now leaned out over the river with their roots exposed from soil but covered with this same chartreuse moss. The entire surface of "non-river"substance is coated with the same beautiful moss. But the moss wasn't the show. The "SHOW" was the river. For a stretch of about 80' long and about 15' wide the river is a "Windex-Blue" in the most vibrant way possible. To accentuate that blue, the surrounding water takes on a translucent emerald green. The entire scene is breath taking in the real sense of these words.

Then came the thunder, then came the rain. It thundered down on the camp for about seven hours. The rain only fell for an hour or so but the dripping continued on throughout the day. I loved the little circles it made in the creek that ran through the campground. What a beautiful spot to spend a hot summer's day. We were all born wet so no worries with a bit of drizzle. Mist hung in the air like moss hung from the trees. The aroma of the sizzle from rain on warm forest could make a person light headed. I hope you don't miss it.

PATTERNS: SOUL SOOTHING SIGHTS

Under the sea, the beautiful sea, mollusks live and die. Their shells break into tiny particles and become part of the sand. In some places the whiteness provided by these shells equip the tide with the tools required of any artist to paint patterns. Oceans, of course, have no such intent. But if they had, I believe it would look like the swirls produced by receding waves as they washed shell-laden sand around a large rock on the Pacific shore. 

Then consider where jig-saw puzzles come from. The tall Ponderosa Pine sheds outer layers of bark each Spring as it grows a bit in circumference. These small pieces about 1 - 2 inches across resemble pieces in any jig-saw puzzle box. If you are enamored of such puzzles, I would bet you would be hard pressed to walk under the Ponderosa Pine without wanting to solve a puzzle or two.

Mother Nature gives us patterns to delight our eyes, tickle our fancy, and sooth our soul. Take time to absorb the wondrous variety that abounds on your next hike.

PUT YOUR HEAD IN THE CLOUDS

Celebrating the Summer Solstice brought me to the top of Mary's Peak here in Oregon. It is considered to be the highest spot in the Coast Range. The top is dressed in large rolling meadows filled with Field Chickweed which lures butterflies to linger. Walking to the top from the parking lot took me past rocky slopes filled with Broad Gentian, Indian Paintbrush, Spreading Phlox, Sand Dune Wallflowers, Sheep Sorrel, Yarrow and Larkspur with an occasional Daisy and Clover thrown in. The color was head-spinning, or was I dizzy due to the elevation? 

The two predominant butterflies were the Spring Azure and the Meadow Fritillary. Both were busy but did stop for a pix. 

There were skiffs of clouds scooting around the mountain tops with patches of blue showing through enough to kid ourselves about Summer's arrival. Oh well, it will come. Then we can all gear up, get out and enjoy the eye-popping vistas awaiting. Plan to put your head in the clouds and enjoy!

SOUL ROAD

On a recent trip to the Elliot State Forest I turned off I-5 south of Eugene onto Hwy 38. Warm sunshine filled the air bringing summer into the van. It seems like my favorite road is the one I am traveling on at any given time, but Hwy 38 is really my "soul road" since it takes me home. My belief is that we all have a "soul road".  On mine ditches and banks are lined with familiar vegetation. I know their names, their habits and their seasons. I think that is one of the hallmarks of home, to be on a first name basis with the vegetation.

Daisies bloomed in profusion spreading  blankets of white up the banks and across the meadows. Purple peas and yellow mustard were interspersed for contrast.

Stopping at the small boat ramp / park between Hwy 38 and the Umpqua River I was taken with the jewel box of a river. High tide had it moving quickly and thickly as it fled seaward. Colored as an emerald topped with a sprinkling of diamond white caps it reflected the blue sky above. No wonder I love it.

The elk were in their meadow between the hills and the highway. The females and yearlings played "follow the leader" through the tall meadow grasses. Further along the old bulls were lazing about right out from the viewing spot. You would think they got paid to do that. While there, I got the most wonderful pix of a Red-winged Blackbird.

You must have a "soul road" that you can visit this season. Don't miss the opportunity. We can only count on having today, right now, get going! You won't regret it!

BUZZARD: MAID OF THE LAND

I know most of us don't see the beauty possessed by Oregon's Turkey Vulture (Buzzard). But in the pix below that beauty is readily apparent as these two spread their six foot wings to capture the sun's rays. Perching high above the forest floor in the limbs of an old growth fir, the color and shine of their feathers is exhibited. Having just visited a small dammed-up creek, they had wet feathers. This is their "clothes line" method of getting dry.

As scavengers they are a useful resource keeping the forest floor cleaned as they "vacuum" bacteria which could infect passing birds and mammals. While they rarely kill their meal, preferring older carrion, they hunt with keen eyesight and an excellent sense of smell.

You may see them as they soar the thermals in the hills and valleys of Oregon. When you do, give them a salute for the beauty and grace they bring to our land. And give them a thanks as they "clean-up" our favorite hiking spots, farms and forests. I don't know about you, but that job is not one I would "relish" so I tip my hat to the lofty Buzzard as he quietly goes about his life sweeping, dusting & mopping up.

GOOD SPIT-GLUE

Let's all try thinking about life as a Cormorant for just a minute. The electrical towers built in the tide flats of Coos Bay are constructed of metal girders. They tower hundreds of feet in the air above the tide lands. Wind buffets them hard enough to suck a good idea right out of your head and blow your feathers off if you are a bird. Yet these hardy birds build their nests on those thin metal girders during the rainy spring days with the wind tearing at the twigs like a hungry monster. This is where they lay their eggs. This is the first life these little fuzz balls know. In the pix below, the daddy perches next to Mom, reaches behind her and feeds the two hungry beaks reaching up. Mom perches there on the thin ledge ready to assume her position as "blanket" for the babies as soon as he has filled their crops with regurgitated fish. 

All that is going on while the wind whistles through the metal girders. Consider this: What kind of "glue" do they use to hold that nest onto the metal?  Consider the determination these critters have to propagate life and carry on. While they are considered "evil fish eaters" by local fishermen since they do consume "our fish" I suggest we have a lot to learn from them. If we lament our poor showing on a fishing expedition, let's hone our fishing skills. Knocking the wondrous attributes of nature is not going to cure anything or put fish in our nets.

The Cormorant numbers have exploded in certain areas where they have no natural predators. I do understand the implications of that. But, when human beings intervene we generally make matters worse. Maybe, just maybe, they have a good lesson we need to learn. And it's not about using good spit glue to hold a nest on a metal girder. 

RIVER SONATA FOR YOUR EARS ONLY!

Arriving at Camp Sherman my trusty companion Sophie and I were met by a gentle breeze, overcast sky and 86 degrees as we pulled in at 3:30 PM. The campground was nearly empty so we got our choice of a riverside camp. By the time the van was unpacked and camp set I had consumed a bottle of ice water and iced decaf coffee latte and was ready for a walk.

Many small wild flowers are in full bloom. The larger bodacious ones will arrive later in the summer. But for now these microscopic blooms are every bit as beautiful if you get down on your knees with your nose two inches from them. That's what I did on my afternoon walk. I took pix of each and every species I could locate. Get down, take pix, get back up, etc for about a mile.

While on this walk I saw three Spring Azure butterflies. It is impossible to capture them in a pix since within the blink of my eye they will have moved in every way imaginable. I just have to be satisfied with a sighting.

To experience the river walk without actually going, start by putting your eyes on the pix below, take a deep breath and imagine your incoming breath arriving on the gentle breeze as it wafts through Spring warmed pine thus delivering a hint of new pine, old pine, new verdant vegetation with eons of the old.

Your foot steps fall upon a path strewn with layers of old pine needles creating a magic carpet ride as you silently glide along.

As you go the river sings to you. It's one of the oldest songs on Earth. The whisper of water as it slides over declining river beds meeting with various obstacles as it goes. Each impediment offers a different tone creating a melody heard only just this once, by you, hosting your own private Chopin as you walk.

Piercing and sometimes melodious birdsong punctuates the sonata. The sonata of the river, sung only for your ears. Don't miss it.

METOLIUS MAMA MERGANSER & PIGGY-BACK BABIES

The Metolius River in Central Oregon is filled to the rim with surprises. While on the river walk trail this week I encountered the family pictured below. Mama Merganser with nine golf-ball size fuzzy babies. As they scrambled to hit the river and safety the water churned like a motor in a bath tub. It only took a blink of an eye for all nine ducklings to be lined up and ready to hop aboard Mom's back for the ride to the center of the river. They were all aboard and 30 yards away before I could count to two. It does look like Mom's "hair" is standing on end doesn't it? If I had nine little ones to shepherd around mine would probably fall out. Continuing on down the river trail as I snapped pix of the beautiful river my eyes came upon a bump on a log. Indeed, it was another female Common Merganser sunning herself. She had no chicks around so she was living the good life sitting there in the sun. Notice how tame her "hair" is compared to her sister.

Give me a note in the comment field if you want more posts along these lines...

THE BEAR'S DEN

Have you ever hiked or explored the Elliot State Forest in the Coast Range of Oregon? There are critters living everywhere.  The pix below is a bear's den.  A real bear's den.  In our family it is the famous (for personal reasons) "The Bear's Den".  I believe wilderness should be trod upon carefully but trod upon nonetheless.  If our (YOUR) wildernesses are not used, development will ensue.  Can you stand that? Just think, no place for the critters, no place for us critters to observe, no place to wander. 

Spring is here and summer waits in the wings. This is the time when we need to get out and really smell the flowers, or the "sign" left by critters, or the Mother Earth as she spreads her verdant arms to embrace all life as we know it. You don't have to "hike". You can take a road trip with the help of a good forest service map and then get out and walk along a mountain road. You may want to pitch a tent or sleep in your van like I do next to a stream.  But the important thing is to get out and do it. You will make memories to be fondled and played with in your "diaper and dribble-cup years" that will put a smile on your face and drive your care nurse crazy.  That's almost a "two-fer", two good times for one.

Since we all only get to do this earthly trip once, I hope you treasure each day and make the most of it. Go stick your head in an old bear's den. He might grump, but throw him an apple. That will shut him up and give you time to retreat. Actually, the chance of you catching a bear in the den is pretty slim. But the chance of catching wildflowers, birds, small animals, maybe an elk or a deer are pretty good.

You will love every breath you take in the wilderness. Treasure THAT!! And remember when it comes to our wilderness we have to use it or lose it! So USE the heck out of it, leaving no trace of yourself and taking life-long memories to be treasured over and over again.

PLUG IN!

It's Spring! Beautiful bouquets blast right out of the Terra Firma. They are there whether you are there to enjoy them or not.  That's the beauty of nature.  It doesn't need us mortals. It flourishes very well without us. Get into those hiking boots, grab your camera and head out on any trail. Of course you could prepare with help from Tripping On a Shoestring. But even if you only take day trips from home, don't miss this opportunity provided to us all by the very planet we live on.  Don't take it for granted. It's a free show complete with dancing fern, singing birds, babbling brooks, clean air and energy. The Earth's energy abounds. You will feel it the minute you step into the forest. You will soak it up, thrive on it and bring some home with you. Go plug in, get energized!

AS WE SLIDE SLOWLY SEAWARD

As the small stream slides slowly seaward it reminds me of the roads we all take to our destination. Generally we have a direction but lack final knowledge of the end.  My goal is to enjoy the trip, each and every day, each and every mile. Henry David Thoreau said "If one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours." In other words: It's not the destination, it's the journey.  So my recommendation to each of you is to live each day as if it's your "end destination" (who knows? It may be) but at the end of the day you will be satisfied and looking forward to the next. My hope for each of us as we approach this season of renewal is that we may live the life we have imagined for ourselves.

PUT A STEP IN YOUR SPRING

Spring has sprung, so spring into Spring with a spring in your step.  OK enough, well you get the point.  Being cooped up all winter can make a person silly.  Look at the sun streaming through the moss in the pix below.  The ferns are leafed out, the wild flowers are ready for your eyes and the birds are singing.  There are trails to hike, fresh, crisp air to breath and wonderful sites to take in.  Just think, hike a mile,  burn 100 calories.  That is a good goal after a winter of sedentary life.  Oh, I am speaking for myself of course.  But burning calories is a good goal if you can't be prompted by the smells, sounds, and sights of a new morning in a Spring forest.  We have all heard the old question: "If a tree falls in the forest and no one hears it...?"  Well, I can assure you that the forest with it's trees, moss, ferns, wild flowers et al will do just fine without us there as a witness to the beauty.  But would we humans do as well?  Would we thrive without bearing witness to that beauty?  No matter where you live in the Pacific Northwest, there is a trail similar to the one pictured here just waiting for your foot steps.  As I have traveled around this area I am surprised at how often I find this same scene: Newly unfurled ferns, clinging & hanging moss, old stairs leading on to more.  You will too.  Check your local maps for parks, pack a lunch, strap on your hiking boots and head out.  A huge breath of fresh Spring air is just what your lungs need.  Your whole body will thank you for the refreshing reawakening it will get from the burst of energy received when you embark on a Spring walk in the woods.  Don't forget your camera.  And please add a comment in my "comment" field about where you went and what you saw.

GETTING THE OLD "EAGLE EYE"

If you have ever wondered why the Bald Eagle is our national bird you will wonder no more if you watch one of the many eagle cams set up around the country.  They live long lives, mate for life unless one dies then they may "re-mate".  They are fierce defenders of their young, tenacious, excellent builders, etc...the list goes on.  Who else would we select?

NBC nightly news recently did a bit on the Cincinnati eagle cam.  The entire city is caught up in watching a pair and their eggs/hatchlings.  There are even large screens in school rooms with the cams going.  Cincinnati has not had Bald Eagles in 200 years.  So, that's a big WAHOOOO.

Here in the Willamette Valley, there have been numerous sightings of our growing population of Bald Eagles.  The guy giving me the "eagle eye" from a limb about 100 feet above me is mated and has a nest nearby.  But, my computers around the house are all set to the Decorah Eagle Cam placed high in a tree by a nest in Decorah, Iowa.  Below are corn fields and a fish hatchery.  Fish hatchery:  See, eagles are smart!  The pair have been followed for many years, they are referred to as Mom & Dad.  They had three eggs this year:  D18, D19, D20.  So D18 hatched Wednesday, D19 poked his little head out yesterday and D20 has a hole in his egg.  I think he took a look at the snow storm engulfing the nest and decided to wait it out inside his snuggy shell.  Watching this pair, Mom & Dad caring for each other and their brood, is so interesting it is hard to look away.  There were times earlier when the eggs were new that Mom had an inch of snow on her and the surrounding nest.  Once in a while she would stand, shake off the snow then settle down on her treasure.  

Being a "fair weather camper" it is easy to stay close to home to await the sun and warm days while I watch Mom & Dad tend to their fuzzy babies.  But I am watching the weather here and will be ready when the days warm up.  The van is packed, clean (inside) and I have maps out.  I hope you are preparing for a "Tripping on a Shoestring" summer as April charges into the sunshine. Whether you camp in a tent, van, motorhome or out of a back pack it is time to start whetting your appetite for comfortable hiking boots, wilderness areas, quiet back roads.  Don't forget to look up, you might get the old "eagle eye" like I did.  What an absolute treat!

SMELL THE SKUNK CABBAGE

From my "Captain's Log" of 2013:  1st hike of the 2013 season to McDowell Creek Falls

Here it is only April and the weather feels like June here in the Willamette Valley of Oregon.  So time has come to take a hike.  I think Oregon has turned into California.  The weather today tops out at 75 degrees.  That's generally an early summer temperature. But in reality, good weather seems to have arrived, so its time to lace up the hiking shoes and hit the trail.

Leaving Salem at 9:00 AM, I headed south on I-5 to the Hwy 20 exit east toward Lebanon.  That little verdant stretch of valley conjured up every color of green.  Lebanon seems to be a vibrant community with everything an urban environment should offer it's citizenry. Even a medical school and a hospital are there.

After Lebanon, the highway starts to rise and the Cascades can be felt looming.  Soon the turnoff to Waterloo comes up.  Waterloo, what a great name for a rural community! The South Santiam River flows right through the midst of this area.  Leaving Waterloo I crossed a bridge spanning the river.  Rapids and blue pools beckoned my camera and me.  There at the end of the bridge a parking place awaited.  Across the road from the parking spot I found a tree-lined meadow filled with yellow flowers, snap, snap, snap.

Back on the road the sign directed me to McDowell Creek Falls County Park, my destination.  The two lane paved road wound through five miles of rural farmland planted with everything from rye grass to Christmas Trees.  The road to Waterloo had an elevation of 250 feet that soon became 1200 feet in a few short miles to McDowell Creek Falls.

Stepping from the van the first assault on my senses emanated from the roaring sound of falling water.  Next up on the senses meter came the sight of tall Douglas Fir trees draped in moss with wild flowers dancing around their rooty toes.  And then the air:  So fresh, damp, and aromatic with promises of more as the sun did her work throughout the day.

Just as the path leaves the parking lot a foot bridge crosses over the creek.  Standing there on the bridge allows for a perfect opportunity for the first water fall viewing, Lower McDowell Falls.  Of course I needed a different vantage point so I went under the bridge and snapped away with my feet inches from the water.  While standing there enthralled by the falls I nearly missed the most beautiful little jewels twinkling around my feet.  About a dozen blue butterflies were flitting around.  They were smaller than most butterflies I see being only about an inch across their little wings.  I have learned that they are an early spring variety called Spring Azure.  Since they were so lively and didn't stay still it seemed out of the question that I could catch them in the lens finder.  So I just soaked them up and enjoyed their blueness while I could.

Back up on the trail the beauties abound wherever I put my eyes starting with the trail which had been cut from a steep bank ending in the creek. So on my right, at shoulder level, bloomed wild flowers as new spring plants cropped up.  On my left the steep slope dropped into the creek.  Tall Firs were everywhere.  Every foot of the creek had mossy rocks catching the flow and as it's elevation shifted, frothy riffles set up a chatter telling of the "big one" coming up.  And the "big one" roared out down the canyon telling all who walked there "come see me, come see me".

When I actually got to the spot on the trail where I could see what the ruckus was all about it stopped me in my tracks.  Named the Royal Terrace Falls a triple-decker cascade of water washes over rocks worn round from eons of the creeks caresses falling 119 feet to the bottom.

A rock stairway zig-zaged up the side of the hill to reach to top of the falls.  I don't know how they roped Paul Bunyan into the job but I cannot think of anyone else capable of building such a stairway.  The rocks were large, square and numerous.  Each step measured higher than the distance from my foot to my knee.  This meant that I didn't climb the stairs.  This meant that I had to negotiate each step like it was Mt. Everest, or so it seemed.  Were I really 36 years old like I think I am and not the "older version" that I actually am, those steps would be no problem.  But, I am indeed, incapable of leaping tall steps in a single bound. Well I couldn't allow that to stop me.  It took an effort, but I made it to the top.  The advantage of slow going rewarded me with going slow enough to notice the flowers waving to me at each step. I stopped to say hello to trilliums, oxalis, salmonberry blossoms, fairy bells, bleeding hearts, dog wood and johnnie jump-ups.

Once I arrived at the top I was able to enjoy the scenery.  An overlook had been constructed to allow visitors to step out over the brush and rocks for a visual vantage of the top of the falls.  I looked down that wide, deep cascade to the bottom and felt light headed.  I could put it down to the climb up the stairs, but not so.  My lightheadedness can only be attributed to the view.  Looking down that misty canyon, hearing the roar of the water, feeling the sun on my face, well, I knew the view paid it's way.  Every step would be worth repeating.

Having recovered from my "steps" I set off up the trail.  At one place a small trickle of water from an uphill spring ran across the path and on the upper side of the muddy soil grew a patch of Skunk Cabbage.  The sun's rays poked through the Firs just at the right place to strike the huge leaves of cabbage rendering them semi-translucent. The leaves of the Skunk Cabbage took on the gleam of a Peridot as the sun soaked through.  What a gem sparkling from under the mossy limbs covering the little spring.  And the aroma! Well I love the smell of Skunk Cabbage.  If you have never experienced it up close and personal let me tell you it smells just like a skunk had a hostile encounter right on the spot.  With the fresh forest air to dissipate the harshness, it can be quite a pleasing fragrance.

Skunk Cabbage looms large in my childhood memories and has forever been a favorite of mine.  My father was a boat builder.  In front of his boat shop on an estuary of the Umpqua River there grew a large patch of Skunk Cabbage.  As children, my brother, sister and I would use the blossom portion of the plant which is shaped like an ear of corn.  We sawed the "ear" into pieces and nailed the pieces together in the fashion of cars, trucks, boats and travel trailers. They would be played with all day while we took trips with them in our imagination.  No wonder I love that plant.  It sparked my first travel adventures. But I digress...

Back on the trail I came to a post with a laminated map of the park mounted so I could see "you are here" and have a general idea where I needed to go to proceed in the right direction.  First more stairs presented themselves, going down this time.  Only these were constructed of wood.  At the bottom of the ravine a beautiful falls awaited.  Well, in for a penny-in for a pound, so off I went down those very steep stairs.  Since they had been constructed for someone with much longer legs than mine, I had to take them one step at a time.  To add to the uncertainty they only had a stair tread and not a back plate.  This allowed viewing through the stairs to the bottom of the ravine.  And what a rocky, deep ravine! Well I may have been intimidated but I had met bigger challenges so down those stairs I went.

The stairs went to a landing at the canyon's bottom ending with a bridge which crossed the creek right in front of Majestic Falls, a 40 foot water fall roaring over huge boulders.  Moss covered every surface.  Lime colored moss, dark green moss, yellow-green moss, well if you are a member of the moss family you would be represented here in this canyon on those rocky walls.  The heavy mist created a refreshing fog.  The photo op from the center of the misty bridge proved to be worth every drop.

Since I had viewed the map, I had a good sense of my location and where I needed to go.  It looked like I had less than a mile to hike to the van and the parking lot. Back at the van I had lunch and a rest.  Then, climbed behind the wheel for the drive home.

I think the challenges I encounter and overcome are part of the draw; that need to stretch my old self on the hikes I take.  It's not so much to prove to myself that I'm not "that" old as to prove to myself that I am still young enough! I'm still young enough to get out and smell the Skunk Cabbage.  Roses can wait until I can't hike.

WRING YOUR ROOTS

Sometimes our roots just show.  Most of the time in fact, our roots show even when we think they are clothed in "new shoes".   Funny, we think we are all so different from each other yet we all have our roots firmly planted in this Earth, brothers and sisters of this planet.  

Well enough of that metaphor.  You get the point.  I think it is a good thing to move forward, advance, change up, what ever we want to call our personal progression through life.  However, recognizing the truth of our beginnings is what gives us the trajectory forward.  Humans, each and every one of us, have our roots clinging to our Earth, our starting point.

My daily challenge is to rise to the occasion presented by the fact that I am, indeed, above ground, ambulatory, and can feel the sun on my face.  Such an opportunity each day brings the desire to "do something" even if it is to recognize the gift of life.  Spring is here (maybe) and daffys are in bloom.  Birds are out in force looking for a nesting site and seed catalogs are in the mail.  New life.  It's everywhere.  Revel in it.  Rub your face in it.  Sink your hands in the soil.  Smell that freshly rain-washed dirt.  Uuummmmm!  Wiggle your roots and get out into the fresh air! Love each day.  Enjoy each moment.  You will never get it back.  It's yours, this moment.  So wring the joy out of each and every one.

THE SMELL OF THE SEA

Take me down to the smell of the sea
Where lions laze and crabs roam free

If any of you are planning a visit to Oregon's Pacific Coast on any day this winter, you may end up in a fishing port with crab boats tied to the docks, drag boats lounging about waiting, and sail boats battened down hoping.  You will undoubtably be welcomed by shouts from hungry gulls and roars from sea lions protecting their turf.  Yes, they are very territorial when it comes to the particular section of wharf they inhabit at any given moment.  They sing and shout like someone would actually dare to dislodge them.

Fresh tidal water caries it's particular aroma, as does tide flats.  The sea breeze will deliver both fragrances to your nose while the lions and gulls send shouts to your ears.  Your eyes will revel in the delight of huge fluffy clouds borne along on breezes careening over water.  Water is all around.  It is under you as it floats the dock, it is probably dropping on you from those clouds, it is crashing in the surf nearby.

What a wonderful way to spend some time!  Gather up the rain coat, wellies, camera and head out to the coast.  You may even find some fish and chips to tickle your fancy.  But mostly, your senses will thank you for the pleasures of smell, sight, sound and even taste to be found no where else but at the ocean's edge.

HOME SWEET HOME

Can you see the eagle's nest in the pix below?  A pair of Eagles have taken up residence high in the trees above this little lake in Salem, Oregon.  They don't seem to mind the people who play in the park, the traffic whizzing past on the freeway or the other accouterments of human habitation.

While taking a walk on this winter's day, I found a variety of birds:  Ducks, geese, jay's, robins, gulls, etc.  As you can see by the sky, the clouds were beautiful, the sun was out and spring couldn't be far behind.  But spring can wait.  This is winter in all it's glory.  We have had snow, rain, wind and today the sun is shinning, all part of the winter deal.  The naked trees reflect on the lake in stark contrast to the fluffy clouds passing overhead, a sight only caught in winter.

Were this summer time, we would all be whining about the coolness of the day.  But since it's not summer the 45 degree day feels like a gift.  It's all relative.  We think of home-sweet-home as warm and cozy.  The eagles, on the other hand, would probably find "warm and cozy" a startling idea as they settle into a stick nest far above the Terra Firma.  Nestled up in the tree limbs they lay and hatch their eggs, raise their young and I will bet they wonder how we survive down here on the ground.  Perspective, that's what we all need to survive and enjoy winter.

So enjoy these wet, cold, crisp days ahead and be happy you can have toast for breakfast.  Those inhabitants of the tree tops are having mice as an entree and are satisfied with that.  Yummm!

ROCK THE CRADLE

Our beautiful Pacific Coast along the edge of Oregon presents itself in new ways each day.  We sometimes are blinded by the sun as we take in the mountain's profiles tumbling into the sea. More likely, we are feasting our eyes on glorious shore waves rumbling to meet those same mountains.

My favorite is the times the water mingles with the land making it difficult to tell where one stops and the other one starts.  Fog is the medium.  Fog is the "fabric softener" of the mountain scenes.  Fog, like cotton balls, rolls in to fill the canyon gaps. Makes me think the mountains are snuggling up with a downey blanket.  Just think of it.  Pull the fog up to your chin North America.  Listen to the music of the Pacific Ocean.  Rock on!

CATHEDRAL OF THE SEA LIONS

How many of you have visited the Oregon Sea Lion Caves?  It is located on the Oregon Coast just 11 miles north of Florence.  There is ample parking and a visitor center with all the usual touristy coast related items for purchase.  You have to buy a ticket (check the website for prices) then take a beautiful cliff walk to the elevator.  Once in the elevator the descent is rapid.  When you step out you are in the cave.

The fragrance in the cave hits you about as hard as the sounds.  Sea Lions live here.  They actually LIVE here.  They have their babies, raise their young, sleep, play and lounge around in the pounding surf inside the huge cavern accessed by the Pacific from two openings.  So, absolutely, there is a fragrance of sea life unlike any you will encounter elsewhere.  But, that's as much a part of the experience as the sound.  Personally, I felt like I had walked into a monastery durning evensong.  Those puppies can sing.  There is such a cacophony of song you wonder how a puppy hears her mother.  But, she does.

If you are lucky enough to go when few other people are there, just stand, close your eyes and listen.  The pounding surf, the cries of the pups, the answering calls of the parents all meld together to create a song emanating from that cave that makes it unforgettable.

So, during these winter days when camping is out of the question (for wimps like me) take a trip over to visit the singing Sea Lions in their very own cathedral.  You may even want to join in the harmony.

SURF'S UP!

Tomorrow will kick off February.  Recent weather indicates that we are well into Spring at this point in the year.  But, reality is, it's February which generally brings our stormiest weather.  Note this post's pix.  That was taken at Shore Acres State Park in Coos County last February.  Maybe we will get a repeat performance this year.  Hope, hope!  Standing there on the cliff face, you can actually feel the Earth move under your feet (sounds like a familiar song) as the waves bounce sky high.  If you are in a position to visit during high tide and booming surf, don't miss it.

February is also the "kick off" for the Seahawks in the Super Bowl this Sunday.  Super-Bowl Sunday!  What a treat!  A holiday with no preparation, guilt, expectations...except for your favorite team of course.  It's like a "freebe" where holidays are concerned.  You can jump and shout, run about, and maybe claim victory.  Either way, the TV Ads are fun, the game is usually fun, and it all comes to us without strings attached.  So I say let's enjoy the heck out of it.

It's still winter and we are not out of the winter weather woods yet.   The spring bulbs are poking their heads out of the ground, fully expecting to meet with frosty resistance before budding and giving us their sunny blooms. So, February, bring it on!  We are waiting with empty water cisterns, empty ponds, minimal snow pack, and hearts full of love for February rain.

WHERE'S THE RAIN?

For those of us who live on the western side of the Cascade Mountains here in Oregon, we historically experience a blast of winter rain.  It washes our lives crispy clean.  It provides fresh water in puddles that reflect naked trees.  It cleanses our gutters and ditches.  That refreshing rain gives us a reason to break out the "wellies" and umbrellas.  Most of us love it, love to gripe about it, love to splash in it.

But this year it has gone missing.  Really, missing! We have had about a third of the rain we normally get during this rainy season.  What it means is not only dirty birds, but parched farm lands come summer.  There is no snow pack to water this bread basket called the Willamette Valley.  So, the weather service is calling for some sprinkles this week.  Revel in each drop!

ROAD LESS TRAVELED

When I look at this pix I think of Robert Frost with his Road Less Traveled.  Then again, there was the song our grade school choir teacher persisted with:  You take the high road, I'll take the low road, I'll get to Scotland afore ye.

So whether you are taking the road less traveled or opting for a high/low road while traveling in the Coast Range be aware that historically the forest service has numbered roads with large plastic yellow signs with the road number inked large and nailed high onto a tree trunk. These markers alerted "dingle riders" as to their location in any given place.  Since most places, ridge after ridge, canyon after canyon look like the one just passed, it has been a tremendous assist.  For some odd reason, some of these road number markers have gone missing.  As you can see, or rather, not see, there is no road marker here in my pix.

Sadly, it can leave some folks wandering about, trying to find their way.  While most seasoned back-woods travelers can find their way, there will be those who count on the road numbers to lead them out. I hope whoever is responsible for removing these numbers will reconsider that particular form of vandalism.

On another note, it is a lovely place.  High on a ridge overlooking canyons in the Coast Range, numerous species of plants and animals call this place home.  The fragrance of the air as it rises up the canyon is fresh, crisp and filled with hints of lower streams and riparian vegetation.

A talk with a plate tectonic geologist recently informed me of the origins of the Coast Range.  Simply put (if there is such a thing in plate tectonics) where the Juan de Fuca Plate drops beneath the North American Plate the debris shaved off pushes up to create the Coast Range.  Well! It also creates the Cascadia Subduction Zone subject to remarkable earthquake events.  We all have our disasters waiting to occur, be they flooding, wild fires, volcanos, etc.  At least we live in a beautiful place while we wait.

And on a housekeeping note:  I think I have the subscription feature to this blog software ironed out.  Please resubscribe if you have time.  This has made my hair white.  I will cease to wear a hat, thereby reflecting the sun's rays back and giving the globe a cooling assist.  With the decrease of ice blankets around the globe, I suggest all of us "whitties" consider doing our bit for climate change.  Leave your hat at home. Let that white hair deflect the sun's heat, keep cool.

NEW BEGINNINGS

While it is only January, the sun is out and spring is right around the corner.  Give some thought to trails you would like to walk down, vistas you would like to rest your eyes upon and sounds you want to listen to.  Sounds of birdsong, rustling of branches, whisper of grass growing.  Watch the robin tilt his head to listen for a worm crawling. I would like to hear the sounds of a new fern shoot unfurling.

My hope is that you will break out the hiking shoes and head out while it is still winter enough to encounter naked trees, bare bushes, and morning fog. For those of you who enjoy catching the dawning sun, hit the trail early enough to see the first light of day through the fog.  Watch the flitting birds search for a breakfast bug.  Be thankful for toast.