The Third Half Of Life

Saturday Afternoon Sky Watch

2012-01-14T16:15:00.001-08:00

This picture taken from my living room window pretty much sums up the state of the weather in Astoria today, confusing. The National Weather Service is predicting snow but today has seen very little action to that end. One minute the sun was in full view then twenty minutes later it was completely obscured by dark and very threatening clouds.

Snow is not unheard of in these parts but the receipt of a significant amount is a pretty rare event. Lets just say that it’s more likely that your neighbor’s kids will own a boat than a flexible flyer sled.

Just to be on the safe side, I will make a trip to the basement before turning in this evening to be sure that my snow shovel is ready for action.

Things That Inspire

2012-01-04T11:14:00.001-08:00

Old Growth Ponderosa Pine near Lowman, Idaho

I am often inspired by the people I meet on a daily basis and the sights I witness. As we begin the new year, I thought it might be appropriate to share two of my most inspirational events from 2011.

This past August, I made a trip to Idaho to visit the community in which I lived and worked following graduation from WSU’s college of forestry. Living in Idaho was a wonderful time in my life, I was in my early twenties and everything was new and a grand adventure. The visit this summer allowed me to be inspired once again by the simple beauty of God’s creation. This visit may have been short but the experience continues to inspire me.

Working as a volunteer docent at the Columbia Maritime Museum gives me countless opportunities to meet people from all walks of life. This past September, I met a man who called himself the “gimpy geezer” and his story was incredible. The “gimpy geezer” spent much of his life in Wisconsin tied to the daily routine of a dairy farm. Upon the death of his wife, he decided it was time see of the the United States so he sold the farm and began his three year adventure. Unlike most people, he didn’t load up the car for a road trip; instead he bought a pair of walking shoes and bus ticket to Delaware where began his journey west.

I asked him if he had planned out his route using a guide book to which he responded that he wasn’t very good about following directions. He instead preferred to find his own way while heading west. He also spoke about the people he met and the sights he saw. He continued his quest each year until the early fall, at this point he would hop the bus to Wisconsin to wait out the winter. In the late spring he began again from where he left off the pervious summer.

After three summers, he finally reached Oregon and the end of his hike. During our visit, he told me that he averaged thirteen miles a day and wore out several pair of walking shoes. I use to think that it was a good day if I rode my bike seven miles in one day; not so much any more!

I have often wondered what he will do in the new year.

The Lunar Landscape

2011-11-21T11:37:00.001-08:00

The forecast for the next week calls for rain, wind and more more of the same. Given that’s it is late November, it’s way past time to share a little about the last stop on our August journey to rediscover the Oregon Trail. If you ever find yourself in the vicinity of south central Idaho, be sure to take a side trip to Craters of The Moon National Monument. I guarantee the landscape is unlike anything you have ever experienced outside of Hawaii or the moon.

If you are interested in geology and how volcanoes shape the earth, you can pretty much see it all inside of the monument. On the other hand, the landscape can be enjoyed just for it’s stark and unusual beauty. Opportunities for hiking exist at every stop but be sure to have a water bottle handy because water is scarce in this arid environment. Today the landscape is serene but but a mere two thousand years ago the earth spewed molten lava from the numerous cinder and spatter cones which are scattered across the area.

Lava once flowed from the cinder cones in the distance

The presence of vegetation indicates that this cinder cone has been inactive for perhaps three thousand or more years

Spatter cones such as these dot the landscape; despite their small size, they are capable of ejecting vast amount of lave

The earth’s surface extremely rough and difficult to traverse. A branch of the Oregon Trail passed nearby; I often wonder what the emigrants thought when seeing this area?

If you decide to visit this truly Idaho gem, do not wait too long because the geologists predict that it will be erupting again sometime in the next one thousand years.

Standing Out

2011-10-19T08:37:00.001-07:00

The signs of fall are everywhere these days from the chill of the night air to the decline of the flowers in our garden. The other day I noticed this “late bloomer” among the rapidly fading Black Eyed Susans. The bright yellow petals just glowed in the morning sun. It was nice while it lasted because today the weather forecast calls for rain.

Idaho, The Views Will Leave You Breathless

2011-10-10T16:23:00.001-07:00

Here it is nearly the middle of October and I have yet to complete reporting on the road trip the lovely wife and I took this past August. One of these days I am going to take some time and get organized but perhaps that task is best saved for another day.

If you have always wanted to see majestic mountains and your were unsure where to visit, make a trip to Idaho. No mater where you travel in the state, the mountains are nearby. To me, Idaho is all about the mountains.

Just ten miles northeast of Boise taken in the early morning when the light is soft and sweet

Even a road trip to Idaho requires an intended destination and for this portion of the journey, our mission was to visit Lowman. Lowman could best be describes as being in the middle of no where. Despite being only seventy miles from Boise, the drive will take you about two hours as you wind your way up the mountains. Lowman is situated in the heart of the Boise National Forest and was my first duty station as a young forester. Thirty-five years had pasted since I was last there so a return visit was long over due.

Highway 21 connects Boise and Lowman and even crazy people seldom drive over 35 miles per hour

On the day of our journey, we left Boise in the early morning hours so as to have sufficient time to enjoy the sights along the way. When I left Lowman in late November of 1976, I carried all my worldly possessions in the back seat of my VW bug. I also had a lot more hair and my beard was definitely not gray! I was excited to see how Lowman had changed over the past thirty-five years. As the road descended into the South Fork of the Payette River valley, I spotted the roadside pull off once known as the Lowman Overlook. At first I was confused because Lowman was no where to be seen, but then it hit me, the trees had grown and obscured the view of the valley below. Yes, even in Idaho given 35 years, the trees will grow taller unless they are reduced to ash by a forest fire.

When I departed Lowman in 1976, the resident population was maybe 12, the 2010 census places the population at 42. When I lived there, the heart and soul of the town unquestionably was the South Fork Lodge. It was a combination summer motel, gas station, general store, post office, and restaurant. The South Fork, as it was known had it all and if they didn’t, your choices were to drive back to Boise or live without it. The second choice was frequently made by many a young forester.

The old South Fork Lodge was destroyed by fire several years ago and the new building, in my opinion, is lacking in character. Perhaps I’m indulging in a little nostalgia but the old lodge had charm in a 1950s sort of way. Due to the elevation, even in the summer, the evening temperatures were on the brisk side so venues for indoor recreation were always a high priority. I remember spending one evening in September of 1976 watching the Ford – Carter presidential debate. It wasn’t that any of us were especially interested in presidential politics, it’s just that the only television in Lowman happened to be in the lobby of the South Fork Lodge. The reception on the black and white television was nearly nonexistent but it beat the alternatives.

Sadly all that remains of the old South Fork Lodge is the service station’s office

Present day Lowman as seen looking south across the South Fork of the Payette River

In the 1970s, living in Lowman you often felt isolated and disconnected from the rest of society. I suppose that since we only received mail twice a week and the nearest telephone was thirty-five miles away might have contributed to that state of mind. Today, things have changed on the communication front as I noticed an exterior community mail box and a public pay phone. I didn’t try my cell phone but given the mountainous terrain and the small population, cell service is likely nonexistent.

This pay phone and mail boxes are the new “heart of Lowman”

In July of 1989 a massive fire burned in and around much of Lowman altering the landscape. Even as a forester who once worked on fires I was somewhat taken back by the level of damage. I just had to remind myself that the fire was but one event in the very long life of the forest. Despite the damage, the area still offers the unsurpassed beauty I remembered.

Steep rocky slopes with huge Ponderosa pines reaching for the sky

A close look at the Ponderosa pine that inhabit the lower elevations

As you continue driving north and east of Lowman along Highway 21, you will eventually end up in the community of Stanley, AKA as the gateway to the Sawtooth Mountains. Stanley sits at just over 6,200 feet in elevation so it’s not unusual for even a summer evening to dip into the thirties. Winter temperatures can be brutal; it’s not unusual for Stanley to have the lowest recorded temperature in the lower forty-eight states. If you ever plan to go to Stanley, do not forget to bring a warm coat. Judging by the number of people I saw in town talking on cell phones, it must be the first service opportunity for many miles. I just wanted to scream “drop you phones and enjoy the mountains!”

The main street of Stanley with the Sawtooth Mountain looming in the distance

The Sawtooth Mountains looking across Little Red Fish Lake

From Stanley we continued our drive south with plans for spending the night in Ketchum. The highway slowly climbs until reaching Galena Summit, the elevation is just a few feet over 8,700 feet. The views from the Galena Overlook are second to none.

The view from Galena Overlook looking north with the headwaters of the Salmon River in center of the image

After a long day, we arrived in Ketchum late in the afternoon and were fortunate to get the last room available. Ketchum and adjacent Sun Valley are noted for their world class skiing so who would have thought they would be so busy in the dead of summer. As it turns out, the area is a mecca for summer recreational activities such as golf, mountain biking, and white water rafting.

Our room was in the resort that overlooked the ski area

The following morning we once again headed south and east back into Idaho’s lowlands and the part of the state through which the Oregon Trail once passed. Our destination for the day was a visit to Craters of the Moon National Monument. The details and photos will be the subject of my next post.

Making Waves

2011-09-25T16:09:00.001-07:00

“The ocean was alive with little peaks …. every swell was born in a different place, made from a specific recipe of wind, time, and water, …… each wave was unique as a fingerprint. It has its own provenance and its own destiny, clashing against its neighbors or merging with them, leaping out of the seascape or dissolving back into it.”

The Wave by Susan Casey

Last night, we received the first storm of the season. Yesterday, I spent about a half hour standing on the south jetty at Clatsop waiting for the perfect wave. As the tide continued to rise and the waves pummeled the jetty, I decided that this one would have to suffice. Fall has officially arrive and I already miss summer.

Labor Day 2011

2011-09-05T15:34:00.001-07:00

The lovely wife and I decided to do something exciting for Labor Day so we decided upon an impromptu visit to Cannon Beach. We decided to brave the holiday traffic in order to enjoy clam chowder and fish and chips at an Oregon coast landmark followed by a hike along the beach. We arrived to find the beach nearly shrouded in fog, the temperature hovering around 50 degrees, and the tourist donning jackets. This was a sign that a hike was out of the question. On the other hand, the fish and chips were outstanding.

Hells Canyon

2011-09-05T09:19:00.001-07:00

During our recent vacation to rediscover the Oregon Trail, the lovely wife and I abandoned the trail several times in search of alternate adventures. Our first such adventure was driving the 208 mile Hells Canyon Scenic Byway. The scenic loop winds through the northeast corner of Oregon while overlooking Hells Canyon and encircling the Wallowa Mountains. A good portion of the road is very narrow and winding but the views are incredible. Do not plan to make this drive in the winter unless you own snowshoes.

Hells Canyon Scenic Overlook looking east into Idaho’s Seven Devils Mountains

Hells Canyon is North America’s deepest river gorge which was carved out of volcanic lava flows by the Snake River. The gorge is ten miles wide and at its deepest point is a staggering 7,993 feet. The canyon is largely inaccessible by road and is best experienced while floating the Snake River in a raft.

Once leaving the canyon’s rim area, the drive continues through the Wallowa-Whitman National Forest finally descending into the community of Joseph, OR and nearby Wallowa Lake. When you make your visit to Wallowa Lake, be sure to ride the Wallowa Lake Tramway to the summit of Mt. Howard. The ride to the summit takes about about twenty minutes but other than hiking, it’s the only way to reach the summit which is just over 8,000 feet in elevation.

The photo above was take through the window of the tram. Notice the graffiti on the plexiglass left by some young lovers. Once you reach the summit, the views of the Eagle Cap Wilderness Area are unquestionably without equal.

Summit of Mt. Howard looking east into the Eagle Cap Wilderness Area

Once departing northeast Oregon, we continued our trip east along Interstate 84 as we headed to Lowman, Idaho for our next adventure. The next logical question is where in the heck is Lowman and why drive over five hours to get there? For the answer to that question, stay tuned.

Traces Of The Trail

2011-08-25T16:23:00.001-07:00

Recently, my lovely wife reminded me that she had requested the second week of August off for her vacation. She further stated that she wanted to “get out of town” and asked if I might plan a trip. Planning a trip that gets us out of town is not much of a challenge; our weekly venture to the grocery store meets that requirement. I wisely assumed that a trip to the grocery store wouldn’t do, so I began planning a road trip to eastern Oregon, the land of summer sunshine.

If you have never been to eastern Oregon, be sure to add this destination to your bucket list. The possibilities of things to see and do are nearly endless. As I pondered my options, I remembered a book on the Oregon Trail I had purchased several years ago. Despite numerous trips to the eastside, I had never taken the time to visit many of the areas through which the trail passed. So armed with a map and a copy of Traveling The Oregon Trail, we headed east in search of the ruts left by the emigrant's wagon wheels.

What became known as the Oregon Trial was actually a series of trails that served as the primary westward migration route between 1840 and 1860. Most of the emigrants traveling the tail began their journey in Independence, Missouri and ended 1240 miles later in the Willamette valley of present day Oregon. The emigrants fled the Missouri River valley in search of free land and a better life. Apparently the economy was less than robust between 1837 and 1841.

Preparation for the journey required the emigrants to sell all that they owned, purchase of a wagon, live stock, and necessary supplies for a seven month journey. The wagon of choice is shown below, the prairie schooner. Unlike it’s larger cousin the conestoga, the prairie schooners were only four feet wide and ranged in length between twelve and eighteen feet. This left little room for nonessential item like books, furniture, or family heirlooms. Maybe this was just as well because those who brought such items often dumped them along the trail in order to lighten the wagon.

Prairie schooner , Oregon Trails Interpretive Center near Baker City, Oregon

Despite what you may have seen in the movies, the majority of the people actually walked the entire trip. The primary objective was to keep the wagons as light as possible thus preserving the strength of the wagon teams. Unlike trips made today, the entire journey was undertaken without consideration of personal comfort.

Each mile of the journey presented challenges as they attempted to traverse an average of twenty miles per day. The first significant test of endurance came as they departed the the great plains and ascend the Rocky Mountains. As they approached the continental divide, grass and water for live stock became scarce. The buffalo that they served as a source of fresh meat while crossing the great plains of Kansas and Nebraska were also gone. From here on out, the daily goal was simply to survive.

With the Rocky Mountains behind them, the semi arid deserts of Wyoming, Idaho, and Oregon lay ahead. If you have never been to the intermountain west, you might be surprised to learn how hot and dry the countryside can be. The day time temperatures in the summer months are frequently in the nineties while the nights dip into the low forties. It’s clearly a land of extremes.

The Oregon Trail near Baker City, Oregon with the Blue Mountains in the distance

In addition to being hot and dry, the soil when disturbed quickly turns to dust. One emigrant described the conditions as follows: “Everlasting dust…. makes simple breathing a chore…… as long as I live, shall I ever be rid of this cough?”

The Oregon Trail near Baker City, Oregon with the Blue Mountains in the distance

Death was a constant companion along the trail. The trail side was litter with the carcass of live stock that succumbed to the lack of water and grass upon which to graze. As for the emigrants, the most frequent causes of death were accidental injury and disease. Cholera was easily spread as both humans and live stock shared the same limited sources of water along the trail.

No, I did not find the bones of a emigrant. This is the remains of a mule dear that recently died along the trail

Today if you travel west from LaGrande to Pendleton, Oregon, the drive on a summer day might take an hour depending upon who is driving. The same trip for the emigrants took ten or more days because it required crossing the Blue Mountains. The majority of those taking this route arrived in late August or early September and found the forested mountains paradise like. The area abounded in wild game, berries, and other edible wild plants which were a welcomed addition to the daily rations.

The Blue Mountains crossing west of Pendleton, Oregon

The emigrants were enthralled by the towering conifer trees and the brisk mountain air which was a refreshing change from the hot desert they had endured all summer. The forests of the Blues through which the emigrants passed were considerably less dense; the suppression of wildfire fire over the past 100 years has altered the landscape. Despite this alteration, the area is still incredibly beautiful.

Descending the Blue Mountains and heading west, the trail passed through present day Pendleton. One additional stretch of semi arid land laid ahead before reaching the Columbia River. The view below is looking north into Squaw Creek just east of Pendleton.

In the end, we didn’t find the spectacular ruts left by thousands of wagon wheels as promised by our guide book. One hundred and fifty years coupled with modern development have obscured much of the trail. At best, we found only traces of the trail but each stop we made offered an incredible story of sacrifice,determination, and survival.

Make a trip and experience the journey for yourself.

Working “The Plan”

2011-07-24T12:13:00.001-07:00

I have been absent from these pages for a while now and little did I expect anyone to notice. Ralph, at Ralph Carson Blog has kindly inquired to my whereabouts on several occasions. I can honestly say that the past few months has not been spent at exotic ports of call or far from home for that matter. Simply put, I have been busy “working my plan”.

So what’s my plan? Before retiring from forestry, I developed a written plan that would guide me into the first six months of retirement. My plan was a list of goals; simple plans have always worked the best for me. One of my goals was to become established in a volunteer activity; I sort of hit the mother load and some how have become established in four.

For the past three years I have stocked shelves at the food bank and delivered meals to home bound senior citizens on a weekly basis. These tasks are far from glamorous and requires little more than to show up with a strong back and a weak mind. I do however consider the work to be very important, especially to those who are hungry.

I also continue to serve as a host to cruise ship passengers who visit for several hours. Astoria is a port of call in the spring and fall as the cruise ships reposition to or from the Alaskan waters. It’s really a lot of fun meeting people who have never have visited our area, especially those folks who come from outside the United States. As far as volunteering goes, it doesn’t get any better than standing on the street corner, telling people where to go, and having them thank you for the experience!

Since my last post, I have also spent many hours volunteering at the maritime museum giving tours and working with the children’s educational programs. One of the museum’s staff members recently commented that I should have a bed at the museum as I’m there so much. I guess that explains why the staff is never surprised to see me walk through the door.

This spring, we began a new educational program for middle school students which we refer to as our “hands on tour”. The goal of the tour is to minimize talking at the kids but instead to engage them through activities which require the reliance on all of their senses.

Working with kids, especially middle school students is a kick. They always have an answer to your question and frequently it will one that you never expected. On a recent tour I was leading a group of seventh grade students through an exercise which required them to imagine what it might be like to wear the deep water diving suit that is on display. I posed the the following question, “do you see any problems that might come from being confined inside such a suit?” I was thinking along the lines of that the suit would be cumbersome to wear and when the helmet is attached your field of view would be extremely limited. Without missing a beat or cracking a smile, one young lady said that it would be especially uncomfortable inside the suit if you were to fart. Not the answer I was looking for but I’m sure she is likely on point! Rule number one for giving a tour is to always know your audience; that day I forgot the rule before posing the question.

Now that summer has finally arrived for those of us who reside on the Oregon coast the question becomes what will I do with the little spare time I have when not volunteering. One option might be to complete the wall papering of the kitchen I started more than a year ago. I know that my lovely wife would like that!!

One Big Hunk of Metal

2011-03-29T16:09:00.001-07:00

Prominently located in the plaza of the Columbia River Maritime Museum is a gigantic ship’s propeller. This prop’s specifications are impressive; fourteen feet in diameter and weighing in at nine tons. It’s one big hunk of metal! Propellers such as this once drove the Charles Adams Class destroyers across the world’s oceans.

As impressive as this hunk of metal is, the reaction of the people relating to it is even more interesting. Young children will scale the smooth surface of the blades then slide down laughing as they go. Teenagers will climb behind the blades and pose for a picture with only their head showing. Middle age men can often been seen just standing before it and staring. I suspect that they are former sailors and appreciate a thing of beauty when they see it.

When I look at it, I see it as an object of raw power. Two of these propellers working together were capable of driving a ship that was longer than a football field through the ocean at nearly forty miles per hour. In my book, that’s pretty impressive!

I decided to see if I could capture some of that power with the camera, so over a period of two months I made multiple images during different times of the day. Hopefully, the following images convey a sense of what I saw.

The energy radiates from within

The energy flows across the surface

Everything is interconnected

Is It A Sign?

2011-02-17T12:19:00.001-08:00

I was headed to the basement last Friday when I noticed this sign on the side of my neighbor’s house. The day was bright and sunny so my first thought was that it be a signal of an early spring. Whereas the groundhog does not make an annual appearance in Oregon, we are left to interrupt the winter/spring transition ourselves.

The past several days have dashed my hopes for an early spring; we have experienced two wind storms, rain, hail, sleet, and snow. So what could this sign mean?

A Trip To The Big City

2011-02-09T11:36:00.001-08:00

It’s funny how you do something once or twice and suddenly it has become a tradition. A few weeks ago I called my friend Dale to remind him that that his birthday was approaching and that tradition dictated we get together for lunch. I must have caught him on a bad day; he proceeded to inform me that he no longer wished to celebrate birthdays! I paused and reminded him that it was tradition so how about we just call it an “un-birthday” celebration? I further suggested that he plan a day that would be filled with outrageous activities for us to accomplish. He inquired if I had something in mind and then mentioned that he has no desire to get arrested! I simply told him to give it some thought and get back to me.

We spoke again about a week later and he told me that he had developed a plan for the “un-birthday” celebration. His idea of an outrageous day was to ride the light rail train into the big city of Portland, Oregon and partake of a few of the city’s cultural opportunities. As someone who seldom goes to the city, it sounded like a good day to me.

Our first stop was at one of Portland’s more weird establishments, the Voodoo Doughnut shop. Now if you love doughnuts, and who doesn’t, visiting this shop is a must when you are in Portland. The doughnuts run from the simple to the exotic; picture if you will doughnuts topped with Coco Puffs, Captain Crunch, or Fruit loops. If that doesn’t get you, perhaps the maple bar topped with a slice of bacon will. Just for the record, we both feasted on a doughnut, but we both chose from their less flashy offerings.

Our next adventure was to hop the street car and ride it to Powell’s Books. Without a doubt, this store is a Portland intuition; the main store covers an entire city block and boasts over one million books in stock. Walking into the store is a bit overwhelming so be sure to pick up a map at the front counter. I actually left the store with a feeling of accomplishment because I noticed three book that I have recently read!

The rest of the afternoon was spent visiting several of the city’s historic parks before boarding the train for the return trip to the suburbs. Tradition will soon be upon us as my birthday is not too far off. Perhaps another outrageous day in the big city would be in order.

Only Three Months

2011-01-21T08:54:00.001-08:00

It’s a truism that after reaching fifty, the majority of the people with whom you interact seem to get younger each year. I accept the ever increasing age divide as a fact of life except when it’s time to donate blood. Since the donation of blood involves the use of rather large needles, I much prefer that the technician be “a little long in the tooth”!

So begins the tale of my recent visit to the Red Cross blood drive.

I arrived at the processing station and was greeted by a young lady who looked as if she was perhaps a freshmen in high school. Since her duties were limited to signing me in, I saw no problem here. For those of you who have never donated blood, your next stop is at the health screening table. Here they determine if you have a pulse and barrage you with question to access the suitability of your blood. If you are approved, it’s on to the donation area where the fun begins! Yep, you guessed it, this is where the needles come into play.

It was at this point that I realized that the technician who would be sticking me with a BIG needles might be all of twenty years of age. Foolishly, I inquired how long she have been employed with the Red Cross, to which she sheepishly replied, “only three months”. She then asked if this was my first time donating to which I replied “oh no, I have donated over 100 times”. The expression on he face lead me to believe that she was attempting to estimate how many years 100+ donations represented. I was tempted to tell her that when I made my first donation, it was more than ten years before she walked the earth. With that thought in mind, I decided it was better to just smile and keep my mouth shut.

With the prep work complete, the moment for getting stuck by the needle arrived. As is my custom, I turn my head and hope for the best. Surprisingly, the needle stick was without sensation; I was just about to compliment her when I looked to see an expression of panic upon her face! I immediately knew that she had missed the vein, definitely not a good thing. The expression on my face must have scared her because the next word she uttered was HELP!!

Immediately, another technician came to her rescue and with little fuss, I was soon filling the bag with blood. The rest of the process was thankfully uneventful. In less than fifteen minutes, I was done and headed to the canteen for refreshments and to schedule an appointment to donate again in March. The way I have it figured, my young friend will have nearly five month experience by then.

A Time For Reflection

2010-12-29T11:11:00.001-08:00

As the year draws to a close, it causes me to reflect on the blessings received this past year. The year offered many opportunities, but the ones that I am most thankful for are those that allowed me to serve others. I have finally come to the realization that my acts of service will not save the world. Such work is best left to the young; my actions, at best shine a little light into the darkness of someone’s day. Heck, that’s not so bad!

During the past year, I volunteered a couple of hours each week at our local food pantry restocking the shelves. The job requires less of the mind, but a strong back is most helpful. I arrive hours before the pantry opens it’s doors for distribution so I never see those who receive the food. My reward for a job well done is to return a few day later to restock and replenish the nearly barren shelves. The cycle seldom changes!

I also had the opportunity to serve home-bound senior citizens by delivering for meals on wheels. Once again it’s a very simple task, you arrive at a person’s house and hand them a meal. Sometimes they complain because you are either early or late but then you can never please everyone! I am especially thankful for Mrs. Smith, she knows me only by the sound of my voice because she is totally blind. Despite this, she never fails to greet me with a smile and kind words of thanks. Her smile is better than any pay check I ever earned.

Finally, I was thrilled to serve at the maritime museum as a docent; during the past year, I hosted seventy-one tours which included numerous children’s educational programs. The opportunity for service allowed me to meet people who visited from forty-six of our United States. It never ceases to amaze from how far and wide people travel to visit our little corner of the world. I am also honored and very grateful for three of my fellow docents: Mr. Ed, Carol, and Marianne. Together, these guys made serving at the museum a real blast!

As I sit and reflect, I eagerly await the opportunities that 2011 will bring.

Hanging Christmas Lights – Oh The Joy

2010-12-25T10:29:00.001-08:00

In a typical year, I will attempt to hand our Christmas lights the weekend of Thanksgiving so they are ready to be energized on December 1st. This year the plan was altered by the snow and icy cold temperatures we received the week of Thanksgiving. As much as I enjoy the Christmas light show, there was no way I was going to hang from a ladder and string light while the temperature hovered around twenty-five degrees! Thus began the month of December!

My originally plan was to write about a Christmas long ago but the month was consumer by near endless activities which did not include blogging. For the present, the ghosts of Christmas past will just have to be still for another year. I will simply take this opportunity to wish all of you a very Merry Christmas.

Always A Time For Giving Thanks

2010-11-24T09:21:00.001-08:00

A while back I read Vernon Heaton’s The Mayflower and was reminded once again about the importance of giving thanks, regardless of our circumstances. Heaton chronicles the Pilgrim’s sixty-four day voyage as follows: “As the days drew into weeks, the weather steadily deteriorated: gale force winds blew up and the sea rose until the Mayflower found herself in the middle of a series of fierce storms. Below deck, the air grew stale, fetid and vitiated. Attempts to relieve the stench and drive out the stale air by opening the scuttles and hatches were frustrated by the rush of seawater that soaked the bedding, clothing and the bodies of the passengers. Seasickness broke out again and in the dank, stuffy … passenger holds, conditions became almost intolerable.”

About 18 years ago during a visit to Plymouth, MA, I had the good fortune to tour the Mayflower II. Obviously, the Mayflower II is a reproduction but if memory serves me, the ship builders made every effort to build a faithful reproduction. I still have vivid memories about how little space there was below deck; it was nearly impossible to stand upright and not knock your head on a beam. I can only imagine how fowl the air must have become below deck with with 102 Pilgrims living below.

Finally on November 9, 1620 “land ahoy” was called and the road trip from hell was nearly over. The Mayflower’s intended destination was the mouth of the Hudson River in New York State but the unrelenting storms had driven the ship far north. With winter upon them, the decision was made to find a suitable location to build winter quarters, finally on December 11th, the Pilgrims disembarked in what is now Plymouth, MA.

William Bradford, who was later chosen by the Pilgrims to be their first governor described their arrival as follows: “Being thus arrived in a good harbor and brought safe to land, they fell upon their knees and blessed the God of Heaven, who had brought them over the vast and furious ocean, and delivered them from all the perils and miseries thereof, again to set their feet on the firm and stable earth, their proper element. They had now no friends to welcome them, nor inns to entertain or refresh their weather beaten bodies, no houses or much less towns to repair to …..” Still, they all gave thanks!

As Thanksgiving approaches, if you have a roof over your head and your biggest worry is whether you turkey is organic or if it lived its life as a free range bird, then you have sufficient for which to give thanks. The older I get, the more I realize that life is more or less a matter of perspective, so lets all give thanks for what we have, regardless of how little it might be!

Veterans Day – Let Us Give Thanks

2010-11-10T18:46:00.001-08:00

As we express our gratitude, we must never forget that the highest appreciation is not to utter words, but to live by them. --- John Fitzgerald Kennedy

Planned Spontaneity

2010-11-10T11:55:00.001-08:00

As a couple, the lovely wife and I could be described in many ways, but being spontaneous is clearly not one of them! So it was a great surprise that with little planning we made an overnight trip to the Columbia Gorge to visit the Maryhill Museum of Art. Several weeks ago I read that the museum was hosting a display of graphic novel art, aka comic book art, and as a librarian, I thought that my wife might enjoy such a show. Since the museum is over three hours east of us, it’s not exactly a quick trip. It was a surprise to the both of us that we actually found a date that was mutually acceptable; for us, that’s spontaneous!

Since the Maryhill Museum is located sort of “on the edge of no where”, you have to drive through the length of the Columbia Gorge Scenic Area. With the hardwoods in full fall color while being illuminated by rapidly changing storm light, life doesn’t get much better.

When I think of the gorge, two things always come to mind, rock and water. While passing through the gorge, your eyes are constantly scanning the spires of basalt that tower above or the multicolored waters of the Columbia River below.

As you travel from west to east through the gorge, the annual precipitation decreases rapidly and so do the trees. By the time you exit the gorge and enter the Columbia plateau, the vegetation is predominately grass and sage brush. The color pallet is reduced, but there is landscape is still incredible beautiful especially when sun’s rays hit the earth at a very low angle.

In the past few years, wind turbines have begun to spring up in nearly every direction. I could have stood for hours and watch them slowly spin had it not been for the cold west wind powering the turbines.

Before ending, I suppose that someone reading might be interested in the graphic novel art show. Apparently, mythological figures and super heroes are all the rage in comic books these days. I viewed over three dozen drawings and honestly understood only three. The work of the artists was first rate but I just failed to connect at any level. I guess all of this should come as any surprise when I tell you that my favorite comics are BC and Blondie.

Storm Light At The South Jetty

2010-10-26T13:56:00.001-07:00

As I sit and write, I hear the unmistakable patter of the rain as it pelts the southwest side of our house. Weather wise, yesterday was a much more interesting day because one minute the wind was howling and pelting rain. Then twenty minutes later, it would clear for as long as thirty minutes and it would be just beautiful. During one of the short lived periods, I made a fast run to the beach and returned with a couple of images that depict a bit of the storm’s intensity.

The waves from the Pacific ocean that pummeled the South Jetty could best be described as agitated and angry!

The dunes were hammered by near constant winds which were clocked at 30 miles per hour when the image was made. Notice the bend in the antenna on the left side of the photo.

As always, the storm light was brief and the rain and hail soon returned. I can’t wait until June!

Ugly Weather On The Horizon

2010-10-20T18:59:00.001-07:00

As is my custom, I check the National Weather Service’s forecast for our area each morning. It came as no surprise to read the following in the special weather statement:

THE UPPER RIDGE WHICH HAS GIVEN THE PACIFIC NORTHWEST SUNNY AND
WARM FALL WEATHER WILL SHIFT EAST THURSDAY AND THURSDAY NIGHT.
THIS WILL ALLOW AN INCREASINGLY STRONG WESTERLY JET STREAM TO
IMPACT THE NORTHWEST OVER THE WEEKEND.

THE FIRST STORM IS EXPECTED TO IMPACT THE COAST THURSDAY NIGHT AND
FRIDAY WITH A GLANCING BLOW TO NORTHWEST OREGON. RAIN AND WIND
WILL BE MOSTLY ALONG THE NORTH COAST.

The “ugly weather season” begins in earnest this weekend so I decided it might not be a bad idea to take a hike. I have been wanting to explore more of Cape Disappointment State Park in Washington, so on a whim I grabbed my boots and hit the road. After considering all the options, I choose to hike to the top of McKenzie Head; I figured that if it was good enough for William Clark in 1805, it would do just fine for me today. In 1805 it must have been a struggle to reach the top, but today it’s little more than a leisurely stroll.

During the second World War, the site became part of the harbor defense of the Columbia River, the site was also known as Battery 247. Many a cold night was spent atop of the head by the soldiers who manned the battery’s six inch guns. Today, the guns are long gone and the battery is slowly crumbling, but I returned with a few images of a nearly forgotten installation.

A portion the battery’s command post which is slowly crumbling as the forest vegetation encroaches

A view from the bunker where the gun’s ammunition was once stored

Sunset Over Trestle Bay

2010-10-08T10:14:00.001-07:00

This past Saturday evening, the lovely wife and I took an impromptu trip to the beach in the hopes of catching a stellar sunset. Recent attempts have been thwarted by the near constant fog bank and this trip was no exception. Upon our arrival, we were greeted by a rather stiff wind and a sun that was rapidly sinking into the fog.

Once again, this is about as good as it gets! The national weather service is predicting a major rain event to last for the majority of the weekend; perhaps the sun has set for the season.

Skunked Once Again

2010-09-27T20:12:00.001-07:00

The skies finally cleared late this afternoon following another soggy weekend. On a whim, I decided to take a drive to the beach and see what the setting sun had to offer. Upon leaving the house, I discovered that a thick bank of fog was quickly moving in so time was of the essence. Sadly, the fog hit the beach before my arrival, so plan B was to walk along the banks of Trestle Bay.

Well, a least for those of you who unable to make the trip with me, you now know how Trestle Bay appeared on a foggy evening in September 2010. My friends, that’s as good as it gets!

A Visit To The Estuary

2010-09-26T16:10:00.001-07:00

While on my way to meet my “biking buddy” for a ride into the woods, I had a little time to kill and decided to take a short hike into the Nechacium River estuary. As the sun was just rising, the colors were incredible! The hike was short but the sights and sounds were priceless!

The Government and Statistics

2010-09-17T08:10:00.001-07:00

While watching the Ken Burns documentary, The Civil War, I was reminded of two things governments do exceedingly well. They collect nearly endless amounts of information and generate statistics. During the program, the following statistics were put forth: for both the north and the south, the average height of a solider was five feet eight inches and they weighed one-hundred and forty-three pounds. Their odds of dying in combat were 1 in 65, they stood a 1 in 10 chance of being wounded, and a 1 in 13 chance of dying from disease. The minimum enlistment age was eighteen; the average age of a solider was twenty-five.

The recruitment officers were extremely flexible and allowed drummer boys as young as nine to serve. By the war’s end, 100,000 soldiers, not yet fifteen years of age served in the Union army. It is believed that private William Black of the Union army was the youngest solider wounded; he was not ever twelve years of age. Astounding!

As a former government employee, one of my most dreaded duties was to compile several separate annual accomplishment reports. I learned at a very early age that governmental agencies lived and died by their annual accomplishments! Seldom did anyone question the outcome of a task; most of the questions centered on the amount accomplished.

My least favorite report was titled “the pesticide clearinghouse report”; a lengthy document sent to the department of agriculture which summarized our plans for the application of pesticides to the forest. This one report took the better part of a day to compile and in the early days was typed prior to submission. In the twenty plus years we prepared the document, only twice did someone from the department of agriculture ever call with a question about our report. That fact alone always left me wondering!

The answer to me wondering came one morning in the early 2000s when I received a call from a sectary from the department of agriculture. She explained that she was new to the job and having recently received our report she was uncertain what to do with it! After getting over my initial shock, I asked her if someone actually reviewed the document to which she responded no. Apparently the person who did that job had retired several years ago and no one else assumed that task. As far as she could tell, our report was the only one that had been received annually for the past several years! I quickly told her that I would make her life my pleasant in the coming years by never submitting the report again. Government statistics, you have to love them!!

Painting This Old House

2010-09-01T14:21:00.000-07:00

Anyone who has ever owned a home knows there are few task more daunting than painting the exterior of a big old house. At the onset the project seems so simple, choose appropriate paint colors, purchase the paint, power wash the structure, than spread the paint. If the project was only that simple!

Although our house is not the city’s oldest, it’s birth dates back to the late 1800’s. It therefore comes as no surprise that before the painting can begin several sections of siding will need repair or replacement. Over the past one hundred years of its life, the house has also developed more than a few cracks cracks. If previously caulked, all cracks must be inspected and recaulked as necessary.

When I began the project on July 1st, I estimated that the job would be completed in less than four weeks. Even though the two sides to be painted were the highest, what could possible keep me from accomplishing my goal? Apparently the weather failed to understand my plan as much of July and August we were shrouded in constant fog and drizzle both of which make painting a challenge.

Painting a tall house requires several ladders of various lengths. If you ever need a ladder, give me a call because I have four and they range in length between eight and thirty-two feet. My assistance is however not included in this offer!

This is the view of Astoria I enjoyed while painting the peak of our house.

A view of the nearly completed job taken between rain showers the last week of August.

At times it seems as if the work of a home owner never ends!

Places I Remember

2010-06-17T08:32:00.001-07:00

There are places I remember
All my life though some have changed
Some forever not for better
Some have gone and some remain
All these places had their moments
With lovers and friends I still can recall
Some are dead and some are living
In my life I've loved them all

John Lennon

During my trip to the east coast last month, I took the opportunity to visit one of those places I remember from childhood, the cemetery. I remember it fondly because it was where I made my entry into the working world. In the spring of 1966, I obtained a work permit promptly after turning thirteen, and hired on as a seasonal grounds keeper. Our work force was composed of three middle school boys and as I recall, the job paid one dollar per hour!

In those days, the working world was all about the cycle of the seasons. In late March would find us clearing the countless tree limbs that had fallen during the winter storms. We didn’t have a chain saw so an especially large limb would be hefted to the burn pile by two of three of us. Yes, we worked harder, not smarter! Next we would spend about two weeks raking all of the turf grass. Talk about a boring task! Finally by late April it was time to begin the turf mowing. To a middle school boy, there is nothing like the sound and smell of a gasoline powered engine! We loved our mowing machines but hated using the hand clippers to trim the grass that grew next to the head stones.

The fall of the year was a magical time as the maple trees began to shed their colorful leaves. We would spend our after school hours raking the leaves into huge piles, the bigger the better. Next with the strike of one match, we set the piles ablaze sending flames soaring ten or more into the afternoon skies. Nothing beats the smell of burning maple leaves!

I worked seasonally at the cemetery until the fall I left for college. I never noticed until this visit how often the obelisk style monument was used in early 1900s. The monument in the foreground is nearly sixteen feet in height, constructed of solid granite, and likely cost a king’s ransom when purchased.

The Burton family marker is without question my most favorite headstone. The central portion is a solid chunk of polished granite that is three feet wide and nearly four feet in height. The ball that balances on the top is just over twelve inches in diameter; I always wondered how in the heck the stone masons moved it. Legend also has it that if you walked by this stone at night, a hand would reach out and attempt to grab you. I can’t testify one way or the other regarding the legend because I always made it a practice to be safely home before sunset.

To Fly A Plane

2010-06-03T18:43:00.000-07:00

Pictured above is the Astoria column as it appeared on a soggy morning in May. The “column” as it’s commonly known stands proudly atop Coxcomb Hill, the highest point within the city of Astoria. From its base, the column soars 125 feet into the sky and its observation deck is reached by climbing 164 steps. So what does all of this have to do with flying a plane you may ask?

I recently learned from a group of fifth grade students that the column’s observation deck is the ideal place from which to launch a wooden glider. After living in Astoria for thirty plus years, the thought never occurred to me that such an activity was possible not to mention legal. As it turns out, the visitor’s center offers the gliders to future pilots for a small fee. So in the interest of “lets see what this is all about”, I set out one morning at 6:30 AM to fly a glider.

So in no particular order, I offer my observations on my latest experience.

I was reminded that it’s a long hike to the top of the column! It’s probably been 25 years since I last climbed the 164 steps to reach the top. While making the accent, I wondered if the force of gravity had not somehow increased in the immediate vicinity.
If you intend to photograph yourself doing anything, bring along an assistant! If for no other reason, they can pack the camera and tripod.

3. Read all the instructions before hand! Assembling a toy plane in the fog and drizzle is not as easy as one might think! A far better plan might be to have a competent assistant do all necessary assembly for you.

4. Always bring along a pair of gloves when venturing to great heights on a cold and foggy morning.

5. Once your plane is assembled, there is little more to do than launching it and hope you will not lose sight of it as it slowly descends.

6. That which is great fun for a 5th grader may not be so for someone over the age of fifty. Maybe I should have brought along some 5th graders to cheer me on.

In case you are wondering, I launched two planes. One slowly spiraled to the ground and landed safely atop of the bushes. The other quickly entered into a steep nose dive and crashed into the base of the column. All was not lost however because I took time to savor the view and believe me, that alone was well worth the climb!

Looking to the northwest is the city of Astoria and the Columbia River

Looking to the southwest, one will see Young's River and Saddle Mountain

If you ever want to fly a plane from atop of the column, let me know because I still have one unopened glider and will gladly part with it!! I may ever come along and help pack your camera equipment.

Let Us Give Thanks

2010-05-30T15:55:00.001-07:00

This Memorial Day, let us take time to ponder the sacrifices made by those who have served our country throughout the ages.

A Quick Trip To New England

2010-05-22T16:47:00.001-07:00

I spent much of the past week visiting my native soil in the commonwealth of Massachusetts. The reason for the impromptu trip was to celebrate my mother’s 86th birthday. Yep, it seems like only yesterday that the lovely wife and I were there for Christmas, but that’s another story for another day.

It’s a sad fact of life that as the annual milestones of life increase, the size and intensity of the celebration decrease. My mother was lamenting about how few friends she has left; in an attempt to counter, I mentioned that the same applies to her enemies. Needless to say, this line of reasoning was not well received! We did however commemorate mom’s big day with a delicious lunch which included a cake without candles. I recall my sister commenting that 86 candles might set off the smoke detector!

During visits east it’s always my goal to visit with many friends from high school, but on a five day trip, time passes very quickly. I did however get the opportunity to have lunch with my high school French teacher with whom I recently reconnected via the miracle of Facebook. To be honest I was absolutely amazed that he ever remembered me as it’s been some forty years since I sat in his classroom. I never realized that I was so memorable!

We had agreed to meet in front of a restaurant as a practical matter as it was likely that both of us had changed a bit over the past four decades. As is my custom, I arrived early at the appointed meeting spot. With time to kill, I found a place to sit in the sun and enjoy the beautiful New England spring weather. Suddenly from behind I heard a familiar voice asking if I had my homework. I turned and respond with a greeting in broken French; fortunately Mr. Smith responded in English. I guess my French was so bad that he figured anything other than English would be lost on me. We then proceeded to spend the better part of three hours sharing life life stories. Needless to say, it was as the French might say, “une vraie explosion”.

Cinco de Mayo

2010-05-05T09:31:00.001-07:00

Today is Cinco de Mayo, truly one of my most favorite holidays! For a history lesson on the day’s true meaning, click here. The lovely wife and I will celebrate the day by visiting our favorite Mexican restaurant, immerse ourselves in the culture, and indulge in chips, salsa, and hot bean dip. Yes, I know such treats are loaded with fat and sodium but today is about celebration so the “food police” get the day off!

I also think of this day as Cinco de tee shirt because the restaurant owner will be offering free tee shirts to anyone who purchase a meal. Man, nothing beats a free tee shirt!

Spring Cleaning

2010-04-14T18:35:00.001-07:00

Every spring, my mother would spend a weekend performing the ritual known as spring cleaning. Since she cleaned the house from top to bottom on a weekly basis, it’s not like the place actually needed additional cleaning. During the annual ritual, she would remove the blankets from the beds and launder them, wash and wax the bedroom floors, and wash all of the curtains throughout the house. Needless to say, as a kid, the best place to be during this ritual was anywhere but home less you get pressed into service!

Traditions and rituals are frequently passed down from parent to offspring, so today I began my own version of spring cleaning. With great trepidation, I decided to deal with the accumulation of text books from college and numerous reference manuals I saved upon retirement. As you likely know, used text books are like a broken anchor, suitable only for taking up space in one’s garage. Though they are not quite old enough to qualify as antique, the majority are at least thirty of age and have zero resale value.

I checked with our local recycling company and they would not accept them with the scrap paper. Apparently it’s nearly impossible to separate the binding from the pages during the pulping process. Dumping them in the landfill did not seem appropriate either. So that left me with one option, manually remove the bindings and recycle the pages. With razor knife in hand, I spent of the morning “de-binding” the books and collecting the pages for recycling. What fun!!

There is however one book to which I still have an emotional attachment despite last opening it in 1974. The book is titled Rehder’s Manual of Cultivated Trees and Shrubs and was once considered the Bible of dichotomous keys for plant identification. First published in 1927, it was the standard to which all other identification books were compared. The book is also extremely difficult to use without basic training in classic botany; not a picture in the book.

If you have ever wanted to own a classic, now is the time to act. Email me and for the cost of shipping, I will make it yours. Who knows, it might be of value on those nights when you are having difficulty falling asleep.

The Hand Writing Is On The Wall

2010-04-07T13:47:00.001-07:00

While visiting an interpretive center dedicated to the local cannery workers, I was fascinated by how they recorded the events of the day onto the building’s walls. The writing was reminiscent of the Native American petroglyphs I saw while visiting Utah many years ago. I suppose that man has always had a need to express himself and the walls of an old cannery are as good of place as any.

Not A Good Thing!

2010-04-01T10:32:00.000-07:00

For nearly two yeas, I have had the pleasure leading educational programs for kids as volunteer docent at the maritime museum. Without a doubt, these opportunities have been among my greatest joys since retiring. Working with the kids has sharpened my skills as a docent and also provided many moments of comic relief.

I will not soon forget a recent program with a group of fourth grade students; I was leading them in an activity to identify the major causes of ship wrecks. Just in case you are wondering, they are as follows: weather, human error, and mechanical failure.

On this particular afternoon, the group was struggling to identify mechanical failure so I decided a suggestion might help. I told them the following scenario: pretend that you are the captain of a big ship and while steering it, the ship’s steering wheel falls off and breaks – what would you call this? Without cracking a smile, a boy proudly proclaimed “not a good thing!”

As I stood there wondering what to say next, I realized he was right. Maybe we need to rewrite the program.

The Alpha and The Omega

2010-03-25T17:44:00.000-07:00

One day this past October, I decided it was time to make a trip to the woods with the goal of finding the first and the last reforestation projects on which I worked. At first thought, my plan seemed so simple; grab my camera, some food and water, then head to the woods. Upon further contemplation, it occurred to me that during my career, I had work on at least 560 separate projects. Without question, I remembered the last project, but the first one was a little more difficult to recall since nearly thirty two years had passed. So in the spirit of full disclosure, my “Alpha Project” is shall we say among the first of my career but likely not the actual first!

The Alpha Project

This is a stand of Douglas-fir trees that were planted during the winter of 1978. I should have included some point of reference for scale but on average, the trees in the foreground have diameters ranging between 12 and 14 inches. By convention, a tree’s diameter is measured at a point that is 4.5 feet above the base of the tree. Visiting a stand of trees this age is a joy because you can walk about and not get wacked in the face by branches!

The Omega Project

I will never forget the Omega Project; we planted the seedlings on a rather cold and wet day in March of 2007. The project area was located down the end of a vacated dirt road so we hiked nearly a quarter mile slipping in the mud the entire way. Oh yea, it was fun, fun, fun!!

The final unit was also a vast departure from the norm in that it was reforested with red alder seedlings. For the majority of my career, red alder was considered a weed species of little value and no one ever thought about using it in a reforestation project. Oh how the world of forestry has changed since beginning my career in 1977.

Again some point of reference for scale would have been useful but I left home without one the day of this trip. The alder seedlings shown above are three years of age and range in height from 8 to 10 feet. Given their rapid growth potential, by the end of the summer of 2011 it will be extremely difficult to walk between the trees without getting wacked in the face by a branch.

Another Year Passes

2010-03-16T01:15:00.000-07:00

The character closest to the camera is me. My best guess is that we were celebrating my forth birthday

Today is another of life’s little mile stones, my birthday. I suppose the last time I couldn’t wait for a birthday was the year I turned sixteen. In those days, that was the age at which one could get a driver’s license. Since then for the most part, the day has been pretty much like all others in a year.

My most memorable birthday and the most difficult one was when I turned fifty. Shortly after the big day, I awoke one morning to the reality that I was now middle aged. I suppose if I had been totally honest with myself, I was actually eight years past middle age, but what the heck. As far as my career went, I had accomplished most of my goals and a promotion was highly unlikely. Over the next month, I fell into a state of mild depression; as the fog finally cleared, I decided that what I need was something to jump start my life.

Being a forester, I was trained in planning for the long term, so I sat down and developed my plan. No kidding, I actually did this! Then one evening over dinner, I announced to my wife my need for a change. My plan required one or more of the following: piercing my ear, a tattoo, or dye my hair blonde. When I was finished, my wife simply stated that she was happy I wasn’t going to do something silly. For some reason I missed the sarcasm in her remark!

My years as a planner told me that a plan will fail without knowledge of the facts; so I began to research my options. I quickly learned that when any part of the body is pierced with a large needle, it hurts like hell. Not liking pain, ear piercing was out. I further learned tattoos are expensive, involve needles, and pain. That option was also discarded leaving me with dying my hair blonde, no needles or pain required.

The following week while getting my hair cut, I asked my barber how I might look as a blonde. Being a professional, she didn’t burst out laughing, but I could tell that she certainly wanted to. She tactfully explain that because I have very little hair (yea, I’m nearly bald) and I keep what’s left very short, a dye job might last two weeks. At that point, I realized that my plan for personal change was about to crash and burn.

Now I am another year older and hopefully a little wiser! I am also not sporting body piercings, tattoos, or any hair color except natural gray. On the other hand, I have my health and that’s the something for which I can be truly thankful.

“Captain Jack” – Old or Bold

2010-03-11T13:42:00.001-08:00

During my career as a forester, I had the good fortune to worked with countless characters. One individual set the bar so high that to this day when I hear the word character, I immediately think of a pilot I called “Captain Jack”. Captain Jack once told me that he fell in love with the helicopter at an early age; he once joked that he began flying the year after the Wright Brothers landed at Kitty Hawk.

There is an old saying in the flying community: “There are old pilots and there are bold pilots but there are no old, bold pilots.” If you have ever visited the mountains of the west where Jack flew, you would immediately understand why he was methodical in his approach to flying. On the other hand, Jack could be a bit volatile, especially when stressed. I always felt that this added to his charm! If memory serves me, he was still flying helicopters well into his sixties!

Helicopters are the aircraft of choice for most operations in the forest because of their ability to maneuver while lifting heavy loads. The one pictured in the image above is a Hiller UH-12E and for years was the standard used by the forest industry. As you can see, the Hillers are neither beautiful or comfortable during long flights; they were designed to be simple and dependable.

I have many fond memories of Captain Jack, but two speak volumes about the man.

Early one spring morning we were preparing to begin a reconnaissance flight when I noticed Jack tapping on the engine warning light. Despite being only a forester, I knew full well the significance of this light; it provided a visual indication that the engine had shut down. When seated in the Hiller, your head was less than six feet from the business end of a jet engine, so if the engine quite, it got real quiet very fast! So as Jack continued to tap on the light, I ask him if it might not be a good time to stop and evaluate the problem. He just looked at me and growled the following: “I don’t need a damn light to tell me that the engine is out!” Lesson number one, never try to tell the pilot how to operate his aircraft.

The last time I flew with Jack was nearly as memorable. The day began at 5 AM in the gravel parking area behind our office that we used as a landing zone. With the helicopter sitting atop of a utility trailer, Jack and I sat quietly waiting for sufficient daylight before lifting off. I noticed that Jack kept staring at a large pole that was about fifty feet away from where we sat. My gut instinct told me that he suddenly have reservations about his choice for a landing zone. I turned to Jack and asked if he wanted me to get a truck and move the helicopter and trailer before lifting off. Without missing a beat, Jack smiled and uttered the following: “If we hit that pole, we were never going to make it in the first place.” Seconds later, the we lifted off and away we flew as the sun rose in the east. Two days later we finished the project and I never saw or heard from Captain Jack again. Every time I see a small helicopter it causes me to wonder about Jack.

Life and Making Plans

2010-02-25T14:14:00.001-08:00

"Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans." John Lennon

Perhaps few have noticed, but life has caused me to be absent from these pages and the greater blogosphere for the past few weeks. I recently had surgery that has left me tired, listless, and in general, not a very happy camper. The doctor had warned me that the recovery time would be about six weeks but I assumed his prediction applied to all his other patients but certainly not me. At this point in time, it appears that he may be more right than wrong!

As I awaited surgery, I told myself that the recovery period would be a great time for blogging, reading, and watching a couple of Netflix DVDs that have been sitting on the shelf much of the winter. Perhaps in another week or so I will begin to feel more like my former self and find the energy and motivation to begin posting on a more consistent basis.

Until then, I will leave you with the words of Garrison Keillor: “Be well, do good work, and keep in touch.”

Hoist The Anchor

2010-02-03T15:49:00.000-08:00

Monday evening, promptly at five PM, the museum closed the doors to the Sailing Gallery for the last time. In this day and age, if a museum is to stay financially viable, it must offer new exhibits that excite and engage. Most museums have extensive collections but limited space for public display. At any given time only a small percentage of their holdings are on display so closing a gallery is viewed as a positive change.

Over time, the sailing gallery has become one of my favorite spots when hosting a tour, especially to kids. Since the gallery featured artifacts dating to the 1800’s, it allowed visitors an opportunity to step back in time. With that step take, my job as a docent would be to use stories and create word pictures to make the artifacts come alive. Time constraints did not allow me share my stories one last time during Monday’s tour, therefore out of nostalgia, I will share a few of them with you.

This is the view of the gallery from my vantage point when giving a tour. No guest were available this day.

With guests settled into the ship’s seat shown above, I would pose the following question: “Do you think that life at sea would have been exciting in the 1800’s?” As you might expect, kids lacking in life experiences, would overwhelmingly answer yes. I would then quote a long forgotten sailor who said: “Life at sea was akin to being in jail except you had the added chance of drowning.” Old salts of the day might also comment that a sailor was far better off in jail because the food was better, you had more room, and you were with better company. This sure doesn’t bode well for excitement and adventure!

To describe the dangers of going to sea I would point to a model of a ship’s rigging that sat behind me. I then would ask the guests to imagine climbing one hundred feet or more into the rigging to raise or lower the sails. Now imagine doing this as the ship is rocked from side to side by the winds and waves of a storm. Imagine again what it would be like when the rigging was covered with snow and ice and your hands were frozen! At this point I might ask what happened to a sailor who slipped and fell from the rigging? The looks of horror on the kids faces always told me that they got the point!

This photograph would greet guests as they entered the sailing gallery.

When hosting a tour group, I like to avoid quoting lots of facts and figures. I find it much more interesting to hear stories about how or why an artifact was used within its historical context. There are however times when the rules just have to be broken. When attempting to describe how massive the ship picture above would be, the following facts say it all – such a ship would use in excess of twenty miles of rope in the ship’s rigging and its sails, which were made of canvas, would cover an area of 1.5 square miles. Now that’s one big ship!

A Pleasant Surprise

2010-01-26T15:47:00.001-08:00

Warning, I suggest you avoid reading this post if you are eating or have a weak stomach!

Few things strike fear into the heart of a homeowner than the need to summon a plumber! I suppose that making the call for help is a personal admission of defeat. Then there is the fear of the unknown; just how much is this going to cost me. Will I have to take a second mortgage or sell something?

So begins my story. Last Friday I arrived home to find the renter of our apartment wanting to borrow a plunger. She didn’t mention what was the nature of the clog, but I was confident that my assistance would be required in short order. My hope was that the clog was confined the low flow toilet but when she failed to return in five minutes I began to fear the worse! If you have ever owned an old house, then you have likely guessed the problem, a hopelessly clogged kitchen drain.

One look at the situation and the immortal words of Hans Solo of Star Wars fame came to mind: “I have a bad feeling about this.” My feelings were correct, no amount of plunging was going to open the drain. Being cheap and foolish, I decided to disassemble the P-trap and make an attempt to reestablish drainage with my handy dandy snake. With a few turns of the wrench, the P-trap was removed and I was immediately greeted by a large volume of greasy water that quickly overflowed my containment bucket. In a matter of a few seconds, my shirt sleeves were soaked and the water had continued to drain onto the kitchen floor where I was uncomfortably perched. As I sat there soaked by greasy water, I silently admitted that it was time to call for help.

One of the nice things about living in a small community is that you can usually get a plumber to make a house call the same day. As it was already 12:30 on a Friday afternoon, I ran downstairs an made my call for help. Thankfully, and I mean that in every sense of the expression, the plumber’s dispatcher assured me that help would arrive before the end of the business day! Now all I had to do was shower, change my cloths, and await for rescue.

Around 4 PM the dispatcher called to let me know that the “Chris the plumber” should arrive in about ten minutes. After what seemed like an eternity, there was a knock at the front door and there stood a professional armed with the tools of his trade. We chatted for a few minutes while I explained the situation; he held up the electric drain cleaning snake and told me that if this didn’t do the job, them the drain couldn’t be opened. He quickly went to work and in a matter of ten minutes he said that the clog should now be history. He reassembled the P-trap and ran the water to check his work. As the water immediately disappeared from the sink creating a loud gurgling sound, Chris utter the following: “It’s a good sound, isn’t it”. Oh great, the guy’s a comedian, will there be an additional charge added to my bill?

The bill arrived the yesterday and upon opening it, I was shocked to learn that I was charged for only a half hour of labor. The total', including humorous remarks by the plumber, was a whopping $35.00! Incredible!!

R.T. Is My Hero

2010-01-16T15:30:00.000-08:00

Wednesday evening I had the great pleasure to hear a young lady speak about how she spent this past summer. While her fellow class mates travelled to exotic locations or worked, R.T. spent two months caring for thirty of the world's poorest orphans while volunteering in South Africa. For eight to ten hours a day she feed, cleaned, and shined a little light into the lives of these kids!

As you might expect, the orphanage was not in the best of neighborhoods so personal security was always on the minds of the volunteers. R.T. told us the following story: "One day I called my parents and expressed my concerns about the security issues. As I ended the call, it occurred to me that I must have freaked them out. At that moment it hit me how lucky I was to have a family who loved and cared about me while the orphans had neither."

I believe that as long as there are people like R.T., there will always be someone who loves and cares for those little kids! So in honor of this, I have named R.T. my personal hero.

Meeting New People

2010-01-09T20:40:00.000-08:00

One of the best things about being a docent at the museum is the opportunities it affords to meet new and interesting people. I just did a tally and noted that during 2009, I had the pleasure to give 34 adult tours and 17 educational programs to kids of all ages. During this same period, I also met visitors from 46 of the fifty states as well as individuals from Tanzania and Vietnam. It never ceases to amaze me that people come from so far and wide to visit Astoria!

Often at the conclusion of a tour, several adults will stay behind because they want to share something from their life experience. I have found these times of listening to very rewarding and always educational. During the past year, three individuals and their stories stand out. I offer a little of their stories for your reading pleasure.

In early June, I noticed a gentleman in bright yellow spandex clothing wandering the deck of the Lightship. Experience tells me that few middle age men will appear in public wearing spandex unless they are a serious bike rider. During our conversation he told me that it had been a life long goal to ride across the United States; at the time of our meeting he was in the second day of the journey. The story would have ended there except about a month later I stumbled across his blog on the Internet. I spent the rest of the summer following the progress of his journey. I am happy to report that his goal was met when he dipped the tires of his bike in the icy water off the Maine coast just after Labor Day. Congratulations on a job well done!

Another afternoon a gentleman approached me and told me how excited he was that the museum had a model of a LST, a Navy vessel capable of delivering tanks and personnel onto the unimproved shoreline. He went on to share that during the war, many of these vessels were made in his home town. With pride, he also told me that his father was one of the engineers who designed the vessel's front ramp/door. Now every time I pass the LST model, I remember that gentleman and his father's contribution to the second World War.

My final encounter occurred in the navel history gallery one morning in September. At the tour's conclusion, a woman pointed to the picture of the Japanese surrender aboard the USS Missouri and told me that her father was in the picture. As she proudly pointed to him, I felt as if I was an eye witness to the historic event!

Maybe this summer I will offer a tour that will focus on past visitors and how their stories contribute to the life of the museum.

A December Update

2010-01-02T11:59:00.000-08:00

To my five faithful readers, perhaps a quick explanation regarding my absence is in order. No, I have not been lost in a grassy field such as the one pictured above nor did I spend time basking in the warm and sunny latitudes.

Much of the past month was spent working on a project that defined the true spirit of Christmas for me this year! I spent the better part of the month working on what I would call the community Christmas project. The program began about twenty years ago with the objective that no family should be without food or gifts on Christmas day. Everything, including the wrapping paper and tape are donated. This year the need, as you would expect, was overwhelming. We gave out over six hundred food boxes which included bread, milk, eggs, a turkey, and an assortment of canned and packaged good to meet the family's needs. I spent days sorting the cans of donated food; for the chicken soup alone, there are at least twenty different way of getting a chicken into a can of soup. I also discovered that there is a soup called Italian style wedding soup; so could someone tell me why Italy needs it own special soup just for weddings?

All the time while we were sorting and filling food boxes, another team of volunteers were wrapping gifts and matching them to the requests of specific children. It still boggles my mind that money was donated to purchase over seventy-five bikes of all shapes and sizes. I am certain that on Christmas day there were more than a couple of smiling kids in Astoria!

The final stage of the project happened the Sunday before Christmas when the adults came to pick up the food and gifts. For me the day was filled with mixed emotions; you could see joy and pain in the faces of those waiting in line for their turn. I am sure that for many, this may have been the first time they had to depend upon the generosity of others. It was also a bit unsettling as I recognized a number of the people which I sure added to their discomfort. On a more joyous note, there were the smiles of kids packing out bags of gifts and the simple expressions of thanks from parents that made it all worth while.

My lovely wife and I also made a journey to the east coast to spend Christmas with my family who live about an hour south of Boston. We arrived in the early evening of the 22nd to bone chilling winds and a temperature hovering around eighteen degrees. Thankfully we anticipated such conditions and were prepared with extra layers of clothing, gloves, and hats. No journey is without it trials and this one was no exception. Upon arriving at the baggage claim area, we soon learned that my wife's suit case has decided to spent a little more time at New York's JFK airport. The Delta baggage representative did assure us that it was on the next flight and should arrive in just about an hour. She even gave us a seven dollar food voucher; at airport prices it's hardly a meal but a nice gesture all the same.

Finally with baggage in hand and nearly eighteen hours without significant sleep, we board the shuttle bus for the car rental experience. If you have ever rented a car then you know exactly what I mean! After a short wait, we discover that the rental lot was nearly cleaned out so we had to wait while they prepare a vehicle for us. No problem, at that point another half hour or so didn't really matter.

Otherwise, Christmas and visiting with family was great. My sister cooked an outstanding dinner and my mother was constantly offering us homemade cookies. I ever got to spend some time with my best friend from high school which is always a treat.

The return trip was also one very long day complete with multiple flight delays, but we arrived at our final destination in one piece and very happy to be home. I still remembr the first time I travelled by air, it was in July of 1969. Oh how the world has changed since then; it's kind of sad.

The Deep Freeze

2009-12-12T10:30:00.000-08:00

The past week it's been a bit on the cold side in these parts. In the words of the weather service, the region has been under the influence of arctic air. If this is what it feels like at the north pole, I will not be booking a trip there anytime soon! The night time temperatures have been in the low twenties; during the daylight hours the mercury has also failed to climb above freezing.

On Tuesday afternoon, I decided to make a trip to the beach to photograph the ice that had formed along the banks of the Columbia River. Needless to say, I had the area to my self as even the birds seemed to have found protection from the elements. Despite the cold, I was rewarded with some incredible sights. Hopefully, the images will convey some of my day's experience on the ice.

The frozen banks of the Columbia River

Note to self, be careful where you walk because you never know when the ice might give way, let alone what might be below!

As the water rises and recedes along the banks, it creates all sorts of interesting edges

The leaf of a black cotton wood tree trapped in the ice. Who knows, this leaf may have floated downstream from Idaho or possible as far away as the Columbia River's headwaters in Canada

A Time To Give Thanks

2009-11-25T12:22:00.001-08:00

With Thanksgiving only hours away, the idea of how to give thanks has been knocking around in my head. Pamela, at The Dust Will Wait , made an outstanding list of reasons for which she is thankful.

I especially liked the following quote: "What if God decided to take away the things you forgot to thank him for? I sit here and gaze a 360 around the room and see so many blessings."

Pamela's words have provided me with a real jump start.

The Calm Before The Storm

2009-11-24T16:28:00.000-08:00

The past couple of weeks has seen just about every type of "ugly weather" November has to offer the north coast of Oregon. To say that it's been wet would be an understatement. I was however a bit taken back to learn that my rain gauge has measured just over fifteen inches of precipitation during the month. Yikes, now wonder the basement sump pumps where doing their magic last Tuesday!

Sunday afternoon we had a brief respite from the storms so I took a quick trip to my favorite part of the beach. The light that preceded the storm was sweet; within two minutes of clicking the shutter I was jogging back to the truck in a cold driving rain. It was fun while it lasted!

A Great Disturbance In The Force

2009-11-20T19:30:00.000-08:00

"I felt a great disturbance in the Force, as if millions of voices suddenly cried out in terror and were suddenly silenced. I fear something terrible has happened." Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Master

Recently, I have been gathering once a month with group of friends and former colleagues for an informal lunch. The gathering was the brain child of our former administrative assistance; when she proposed the idea a few years ago before retiring, I was at best sceptical. I assumed that after thirty years of near daily interaction with many of these folks, perhaps my appetite for additional social interaction would be more nonexistent upon retirement. To my surprise, I anxiously await each month's gathering.

As you might expect, the luncheon provides ampule opportunities for everyone to share the latest on grand children, recent adventures, and the current status of their aliments. The time together also offers opportunities to reminisce about the "good old days at work"; in my opinion some of my friends have way too much regard for the past.

Since the majority of my colleagues were foresters, the annual hunt for deer and elk has always been a big part of their lives. I use to joke that for our engineering staff in particular, there were only three seasons in a year. If it was not hunting season, then it was either pre-hunting or post-hunting season. During the pre-hunt season, conversations focused on the endless details of the impending hunt. As you might expect, post-hunting talk centered on the most recent kill or the multitude of reasons as to why the "big one" got away.

During Thursday's lunch, I asked one of the former engineers about his recent deer hunting expedition. His response sent Obi-Wan's words screaming in the depths of my brain. He told me that he doesn't actually care all that much about hunting any more. He explained that his eye sight and hearing are not what they once were and crawling in the brush just makes his body hurt. For him now, hunting has become a time to go camping with a few friends and to leave the hunting and shooting to someone else. I wonder what disturbance in the force will be detected at next month's luncheon?

A River, One Log, and Leverage

2009-11-18T10:15:00.000-08:00

At one time, Astoria was known as the salmon canning capital of the world and the city was home to countless canneries over the river on wooded pilings. Today, few of the original structures remain and if they do, they are mostly remnants of the once great buildings.

The first image is of the floor of a long forgotten cannery taken on a sunny day in December of 2008. At this point in time, the remaining structure was disconnected from the shore and served primarily as a landing zone for tossed rocks. Surprisingly, given it's age, the majority of the wood is in very good condition.

The second image was taken in April of 2009 following several winter storms. During one of the storms, a large log floated down river and became lodged between the pilings. As you might expect, the water level of the river rises during the winter months so the log acted as a demolition battering ram.

During a recent walk I noticed that the log is still wedged between the pilings. I wonder how much of the structure will remain in April of 2010?

Look Up, Look Down, Look Around

2009-11-13T11:12:00.000-08:00

As a forester and wild land fire fighter, I was well versed in the near endless training programs designed to increase fire fighter safety. In my opinion, one of the best was titled Look Up, Look Down, Look Around. Its goal was to get the fire fighter to stop and take a minute to size up his environment, access the hazards, then to find way to manage the risks. In a fire situation, the thing that might injure or kill you is not the fire burning directly in front of you. Often far greater danger exist in the tops of trees burning above your head or from objects that might roll down the hill and hit you. In order to make it to another day, you need to always keep looking. I have attempted to use the same principle when out making photographs; just keep looking because the best image is often not in front of you.

The first Sunday in November was a very nice day in Astoria, weather wise, so I make a late afternoon trip to the beach. My original goal was to find a new location to catch the sun set but I began my journey a little too late in the afternoon. By the time I arrived, sun had disappeared into the clouds and from my location it was impossible to find an unobstructed view. At this point I decided to bag it for the day and head home when I looked over my shoulder and noticed the light reflecting off of the south jetty viewing platform. The platform was crowded with people who had come to catch the sunset and perhaps grab a quick picture. In the end, the multitudes departed the viewing platform with pretty much the same image. Despite the fact that I was in a less traditional location for photographing the setting sun, hopefully my image captures a bit more of the spirit and beauty of the evening.

Veteran's Day 2009

2009-11-10T11:58:00.000-08:00

Last November, my wife and I traveled to Washington, DC for a week of exploration. One of the joys for me was our visit to the World War II Memorial which is located on the mall adjacent to the Washington Monument. Even by the standards of Washington, DC memorials, it's huge! My photo only shows one side, I am not sure that you could get the entire monument in one photo without resorting to stitching.

My dad was a veteran of WWII but he seldom mentioned his time in the service. If my memory is correct, I remember him making only two off-handed comments that revealed little of that part of his life. To this day, I still wonder why.

Several years ago, I created a page on the World War II Registry in an attempt to honor his contribution to the war effort. If you would like to honor someone or spend a little time browsing, the National WWII Memorial's web site can be found here.

Tomorrow we will once again celebrate Veteran's Day with parades, prayers, and quiet contemplation. If you happen to see a Veteran, take a moment and thank them for their service.

One Angry Sky

2009-11-07T16:22:00.000-08:00

I was returning from a photographic outing to the beach late Friday when I spotted the above scene. The skies were quickly turning angry as a storm cell approach the coast of Washington. I was intrigued by light; the distant hills appeared nearly black despite light filtering through the advancing clouds.

Given the conditions, I knew that the scene would not last long so my challenge was to find a vantage point free of obstructions. Within several seconds of making the image, the sky was lit by lighting which was immediately followed by a deafening clap of thunder. Within thirty seconds of the thunder, the entire coast line was shrouded by the clouds.

It suddenly occurred to me how close I was to the storm and at the moment, I was the highest point in the immediate vicinity. This is clearly something to avoid being during a thunder storm!

Dawn On Halloween Morning

2009-11-02T15:48:00.000-08:00

During the twilight hours of Halloween, I made a visit to the city's cemetery. It's not a place I normally frequent but it provides access to one of my favorite wetlands. My original plan was to see how the waters would appear in the early morning light but instead I spotted this "spooky" scene and just could not resist!

It may not have been the best image from this outing but it definitely was the most laughable.

Everything Is Bad For You

2009-10-29T09:22:00.001-07:00

I was cleaning one of the shelves in our home library the other day and ran across the classic work by David French titled Everything Is Bad For You, An A to Z Guide To What You Never Knew Could Kill You.

I offer the following excerpt taken from page 18 for your consideration.

Carpenter, Being A -- Save a carpenter: buy plastic furniture. The dust produced while making furniture, cabinets, and other wood products can lead to cancer of the nasal cavities and sinuses.

I wonder what became of the carpenter who hand crafted the door shown in my photo? In the days that the cabin was build, he likely took few considerations for personal safety.

A Touch of Fall

2009-10-28T08:37:00.000-07:00

The past few weeks, as fellow bloggers have posted the most incredible fall foliage images, has been a joy for me! Having been raised in New England, fall was always my favorite season as the maples turned multiple shades of red, orange, and yellow.

Fall is still a wonderful time in northwest Oregon, but the forests are somewhat lacking in the range of color. Last week I decided to take a drive inland, about twenty miles from the coast, in an attempt to see what this fall had to offer. Unfortunately, the fog persisted most of the afternoon so the color of the big leaf maples were a bit muted. OK, so I cheated a little by adding a little "punch" via Lightroom.

How Quaint

2009-10-18T16:35:00.000-07:00

The arrival of fall means that we once again begin hosting groups of school kids at the museum. Yesterday, I had the pleasure of offering a tour to a group of Boy Scouts who were interested in all things nautical. Since time was not of the essence, it allowed us to explore areas of the museum often left untouched by a typical school group.

I have learned that when giving tours to kids, it often helps to have objects available that they can touch. To me, this "hands on learning" really helps me bring home a point. This is especially important when sharing on events that occurred before the student's birth.

Yesterday, I decided to end my tour in the Navel History gallery; this gallery presents a challenge to even our most experienced docents. Displayed within the gallery's walls are artifacts representing two-hundred plus years of history. The question is always what do you share in the remaining seven minutes of your tour?

Keeping with my "hands on learning" approach, I decided to share a little on what life was like on board a ship during World War II. Proudly displayed in the gallery is the bridge of USS Knapp, a destroyer that saw service in both WWII and the Korean War. It never ceases to amaze me how intrigued the students become when they enter the confined space of the bridge. They are truly fascinated by the dizzying array of switches, levers, and dials along with the Captain's chair and the ship's wheel.

As I was watching and listening to the kids, one of them turned to me and inquired as to what was this contraption hanging from the ship's wall. As I drew closer, I realized that he was asking about the rotary style phone. It was one of those times that you realize how old you have become in relation to the rest of world! You have undoubtedly guessed his next question, "How does it work?" I then proceeded to give a quick demonstration; my only regret was that I did not have a camera to record the look of wonder on their faces!

To The Top of Beacon Rock

2009-10-14T15:52:00.000-07:00

Last week, the long awaited hike to the top of Beacon Rock finally happened. My buddy Dale and I had big plans to do lots of hiking and bike riding this summer, but as the saying goes, "life is what happens when you make plans". In early July, Dale took a temporary job with our previous employer and I got heavily involved with house painting so the summit of Beacon Rock sat on hold. What the heck, the rock is the remains of an ancient volcano so it's not like it was going to move any time soon.

Since we both spent a good deal of our working lives working outside in nasty weather, it's a prime requirement that any out door outing during retirement be planned around good weather. Last Tuesday, we hit pay dirt as the skies were generally clear and the temperature was in the low sixties, perfect conditions for a hike.

Beacon Rock is located at the west end of the Columbia River gorge and is accessible from the Washington side of the river. I have always thought of it as Washington's answer to the Matterhorn in terms of its profile, but measuring a mere 848 feet in elevation, it is far from a technical climb. As a matter of fact, the trail is carved into the basalt slopes and connected by a series of steel grates and small bridges. The view is to die for but without a doubt it would not be a place to be hiking when the trail is covered in snow and ice!

The view from half way up looking west down the Columbia River

An old growth Doug-fir surrounded by fall colors

Dale surveying the trail

A close up of the trail and connecting bridges

If you are ever in the area, this is a must do hike! Even if you take your time a hike to the top takes less than an hour; it's only about 3/4 of a mile to the top. This leads me to believe that when Dale and I get together it's not so much about hiking or biking but more about friendship and socialization.

Sunset Over The Pacific

2009-10-06T17:48:00.001-07:00

Fall has finally arrived and in my opinion, it is the best time to visit the beach. The days generally tend to be warm and sunny and the evenings are cool and crisp! My kind of weather!

The same conditions make for outstanding sunset photographic opportunities. Those conditions would be that the beach is generally deserted and the sun sets by 6:45 PM so I can make it home before my normal bed time. Does life get any better!

Frazzled Rubeckia

2009-09-18T09:20:00.001-07:00

I have been in the mist of painting the house for the past two weeks and feel as frazzled as the rubeckia in the above image. It probably was not the wisest idea to undertake such a project in the middle of September but my plan was to only do two sides, so what did I have to lose!

Typical of any project, the plan has been beset with set back and a steady stream of challenges. The sides I am attempting to paint face the south and west and thus receive direct sun light throughout much of the day. This coupled with the fact that the fiber-cement siding warms very quickly, it sometimes feels like I am attempting to push mud with a stick instead of spreading paint with a brush.

To overcome the hot siding and quick drying paint, I have been painting in the predawn hours on the few mornings that have been fog free. Fortunately, there is a street light just across the street so illumination is available. My wife even offered use of her head lamp; thanks dear!

I now have a better appreciation for why it took Michelangelo so long to paint the Sistine Chapel.

Early Life On The Fire Line

2009-09-05T16:45:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, Earl Moore over at Meandering Passages posted an awesome image of storm clouds. He said that they reminded him of the massive columns of smoke rising above the fires burning in the Los Angels area. His comments got me to reminiscing about my days as a forester who also doubled as a wildland fire fighter. My reminiscing sent me to search my photo archives for an image or two of how fires were fought in the "good old" days. I found these beauties, but first this disclaimer: all photos predate the use of the digital camera and all were taken as snap shots while performing some fire related duty.

The first image shows what life on the fire line was like circa 1777; oh how things have changed! The crew is obviously taking a well deserved break and likely eating lunch. In those days, the noon time meal consisted of a baloney sandwich, an apple or an orange and maybe a Hostess Twinkies or two. Yea, believe or not, we actually ate baloney and Twinkies! It's a time honored tradition to complain about fire lunches and being served baloney for several day in a row did little to break the cycle.

Today's fire fighter still complains about the lunches, but believe me, they are now light years past baloney. Meals are now planned to provide sufficient caloric intake to match the physical demands of the job. At most fires, vegetarians will also be provided with a meal suitable for their dietary requirements.

You might also notice how the old school fire fighters once dressed. In times gone by, we wore only cotton shirts and pants along with leather boots. Today, no fire fighter would venture into the burning forest without totally fire resistant clothing, AKA nomax, and a fire shelter that you pray will never be needed!

I took the above photo in August of 1990 while assigned to the Awbury Hall fire which destroyed twenty-two homes west of Bend, OR. The next photo shows a sight all too often seen; the charred skeletal remains of someone's dream home. Prior to 1990, all of the fires I worked actually brunt deep in the forest and when we lost a structure, it was an old mining cabin or a barn. The sight of this many homes consumed in less than twelve hours was something that took me by surprise. Unfortunately over the next ten years of my career, the sight would be repeated many times.

My final image is of every fire fighter's friend, the portable out-house. Now you have appreciate the fact that much of eastern Oregon is very rural and if a community exists, the resident population might not exceed a few hundred. When a fire erupts in the nearby forest, hundreds of fire fighters descend and require the most basic of services. During my career, I worked fires that had fifty or more of the portable "comfort palaces" on site. The man who serviced these necessities was among the busiest individuals one any fire. We were always glade to see him, especially on a hot day!!

The last time I worked the fire lines was the summer of 2003; I can say that for the most part, it was fun while it lasted, but I honestly do not miss it!!

Morning Sun

2009-08-25T08:40:00.000-07:00

On my early morning bike rides, I frequently pass this long abandoned dock. On more than one occasion, I swear that I've heard Ottis Reddin calling ..........

Sittin' in the morning sun
I'll be sittin there when evening comes
Watching the ships roll in
And then I watch 'em roll away again, yeah

I'm sittin' on the dock of the bay
Watching the tide roll away
Ooo, I'm just sittin' on the dock of the bay
Wastin' time

Sittin' On The Dock Of The Bay
by Ottis Reddin and Steve Cropper

OK, so there are a few things that don't exactly jive with the song. First, the dock actually sits on the Columbia River, but it's still a water side location. Then there is the fence and the razor wire; not exactly inviting you sit and ponder life unless you are a seagull!

On the other hand, the photo was taken during the "mornin' sun". The dock however faces due north so seeing the rising sun is not an option unless a celestrial event of unknown magnitude occurs.

The Sunday AM Walk

2009-08-11T14:14:00.001-07:00

Sunday morning I rose early with the intention of taking a bike ride along the beach but when I to get my bike, the weather changed my mind. During the night, the skies had turned to liquid as a heavy drizzle fell from the sky. As my bike does not have fenders, rides accompanied by any form of precipitation are less than enjoyable.

I changed plans and instead headed to Fort Stevens State Park for a hike along the banks of the Columbia River; just for the fun of it, I brought along the camera. Since it was just after sunrise and the drizzle was on and off, I had relatively low expectations for a photographic outing.

Despite the fact that it was a "low contrast" sort of day, photographically speaking, I was struck by the beauty before my eyes! The peace and quiet was also astounding as I had the entire beach to myself. This seldom happens during the month of August.

Looking east up river towards Astoria

There was an added bonus, the recent high tide had redistributed the sand so my foot prints were the first of the day.

Gardening Update

2009-08-08T13:16:00.000-07:00

The above photo shows my vegetable garden as seen just before sunset a few evenings ago. Needless to say, the corn is unlikely to make it before the first frost unless I construct a mini-green house over the plot. I have come to the conclusion that the north Oregon coast is pretty poor country in which to grow corn.

In an attempt to increase my odds, I even planted an early variety call Early Sun Glow which is claims to produce within 63 days of planting. If my memory is correct, I sowed the corn around June 15th, so as of today it's been in the soil for a total of 54 days. Given that, it will take a miracle of unknown proportions in order to be harvesting corn in nine days. If by some chance it actually does, I will not have to hire help to harvest the crop!

Oh well, the radishes, lettuces, and peas that were planted in early June turned out just fine so this vegetable garden thing hasn't been a total waste!

History or Junk

2009-07-29T15:57:00.000-07:00

Last week while greeting visitors at the maritime museum, I had one gentleman ask me why the government doesn't require the removal of the old piling from the river. My first thought went something like this, "why don't people ask questions for which I have a ready answer!" After pausing for a few seconds, I explained that many of these pilings were driven down to a depth of at least twenty feet through the river's sand in order reach bed rock. I went on further to explain that given the presence of endangered salmon species in the river, the work period for such a project would be so restrict and thus quickly become cost prohibitive. He was unimpressed and returned to his original question.

As our conversation continued, I told him that as a thirty-plus year resident of coastal Oregon,

I hardly even noticed them. To me, the old pilings are as much a part of the river as the water and the rocks. I could tell that he was still unimpressed.

Finally, I explained that many of these piling date back to the 1870 and once supported one of the thirty-nine canneries that once lined the lower Columbia River. I further explained that in large measure, they were a large part of the local history and surely he was not advocating the removal of local history. At this point, he smiled and thanked me for my time.

My photo depicts how the"bones" of the Samuel Elmore Cannery appeared on a warm and hazy morning in July of 2009. The concrete structure that dominates the image once housed the oil storage tank which kept the cannery's massive boiler operating. Is it history or junk, you decide.

From The Earth - To The Moon

2009-07-21T12:02:00.000-07:00

Like many youngsters of the 1960s, I was fascinated by anything related to the exploration of outer space. Many a youthful night was spent gazing at the stars and dreaming of the possibilities. I remember vividly President Kennedy's 1961 speech challenging the United States to land a man on the moon and to safely return him to earth. I watched the launch of every project Mercury astronaut beginning with Alan Shepard in 1961 and ending with Gordo Cooper in the spring of 1963.

The anticipation built again in early 1965 when NASA began project Gemini. Over the course of the next twenty months, man returned to space ten times accomplishing feats barley dreamed of in the early 1960s. Can you imagine the thrill astronaut Ed White experienced when he open the capsule door in June of 1965 and became the first human to float into the vastness of outer space!

Finally on July 20th 1969, man reached the surface of the moon and in a sense, the dream ended as the mission was accomplished. Unfortunately, I missed the live television coverage of the historic landing and walk; at the time I was camping with the Boy Scouts in the wilds of northern Idaho. By the end of 1972, man returned to the moon six more times but no visit was more exciting than the first!

I began college in the fall of 1972 and left the dream of outer space behind; instead I choose to pursue a career in forestry. Trust me, that's about a far from the moon as it gets. Like all good dreams, the story doesn't end there. In the fall of 1985, I visited the Smithsonian's Air and Space Museum in Washington, DC. While there, I stood before a capsule from project Mercury, Gemini, and Apollo and for a moment, I was able to relive the dream!

Don't Wait Until It's Too Late

2009-07-15T19:28:00.000-07:00

While riding my bike last summer, I passed a local fish cannery and my eye was drawn to their plastic storage bins wrapped in plastic. I returned later in the day and made a number of images; I found the contrasting lines interesting. As the bins had just been placed on the pier, the plastic wrap was neat and tight. I made a mental note to return following several months of weathering to see if the image would improve.

This past Monday, I rode by the cannery once again and was pleased to see that the wrap had become more interesting with several months of weathering. Since the sun barely lite the eastern sky, photography was not an option at the moment. My plan was to return later in the week at a convenient time and to document the change. Alas, I waited too long because when I returned Tuesday, the bins were gone because the cannery had commenced their summer production schedule.

The moral of the story is simple, if you see a subject that is of interest to you, jump on it now because tomorrow may be too late!

In The Land Of Shadows

2009-07-07T12:48:00.000-07:00

As I have said before, the shadow an object cast is often more interesting to me than the thing its self. Early one sunny morning, a rare event here, I noticed the magic created by a huge tulip popular on an office wall. I was busy with another mission that day so was unable to return with the camera. Finally, on May 5th everything came together and I spent nearly an hour capturing the shadows.

Now that summer is here, the tree is fully leafed-out and the finely detailed shadows are lost. Rest assured, they will return next spring!

How To Aviod The Sixty-Four Dollar Tomato

2009-06-30T13:04:00.000-07:00

In the early years of my youth, I always looked forward to the arrival of spring and the Burpbee's seed catalog. I would read the catalog from cover to cover and dream of growing all the latest varieties of fruits and vegetables. My gardening routine was always the same; late June the soil was prepared, the seeds were planted at the proper depth, followed by periodic applications of life sustaining water.

If you have ever grown a garden, then you know that seldom does the crop you harvest look anything like the pictures you saw in the seed catalog. Even the produce I purchase in my mega-monster grocery store fails to compare. The producers of seed catalogs must employ some sort of trick photography.

Today's photo shows what my garden looked like the third week in June. I obviously will not be feeding a starving planet with my extra produce! As of today, the corn plant are about six inches in height; far short of the Iowa standard of "knee high by the forth of July". This year, I planted a high yield variety of sweet corn that matures in sixty days. It won't have to yield much to beat last year's crop of six stubby-malformed ears. When I cut the corn from the ears, it hardly filled a cup!

So why do I continue to garden year after year? I suppose partly because it's a fun activity and maybe because I believe that this year will be better than the last. Who knows, maybe it will!

If you want learn how gardening went from a hobby, to a passion and then ended as an obsession, check out William Alexander's The $64 Tomato. Trust me, you laugh until you cry.

Home Improvement?

2009-06-23T13:15:00.000-07:00

If only home improvement project were as fun or easy as they appear to be in the near endless array of home and garden shows available on any cable network. One way or another, all of my projects go through the following stages:

The early excitement of planning
Joy and exuberance as the project begins
Set backs early on day number one
The arrival of reality on day two; what was I thinking!
Acceptance on day three; now you started it, you have to finish it!

And so it goes with my plan to wall paper and paint the bedroom, living room, and the dining room before summer's end.

Actually, the wall paper peeled from the wall without too much difficulty. The paper's backing and the glue's residue were another story. I spent about ten hours scrapping off the old glue; as you might have guessed, I nicked the wall in several places. The next step will be patching and sanding each of the nicks and gouges before even opening a can of paint.

Oh how the joys of home ownership are never ending!

Gratitude

2009-06-17T12:59:00.001-07:00

It is often said that gratitude is an attitude, but I wonder if we actually live our lives believing that it's true. A few weeks ago while visiting the east coast, I had the opportunity to spend the evening with an old high school friend . The past eighteen months have been difficult for he and his wife; she has waged an ongoing battle with cancer. As I write, it appears that the battle has been successful, but the unintended consequences of chemotherapy and radiation linger.

During dinner, I asked Cheryl how she was doing and she responded as follows: "Today is a good day, but you know, every day is a good day." What an attitude!

School’s Out

2009-06-09T11:36:00.000-07:00

Today is the last official day for the school year here in Astoria; it will likely be a noisy ride on the school bus this afternoon! I still remember fondly the summers of my youth; I always had a near endless list of activities to carry me through the months of June, July and August. If memory serves me, the list included lots of the following:

Early morning swimming lessons in the ice cold waters of the town pool
Afternoons spent in the same icy waters swimming
Bike rides into town to buy popsicles
Pitching a tent and camping out in the back yard while the mosquitoes feasted on us
Waiting until the last minute to begin the summer reading
Attending Boy Scout camp in August on Cape Cod

So what’s on tap for me this summer? At the moment, much of the summer will be absorbed painting the bed room, living room, and the dining room. Boy, how I miss the summers of old!!

You Can Never Go Home

2009-06-06T11:05:00.001-07:00

I have no idea where this adage originated but without question, it is true! I recently returned from a trip to Massachusetts, the land of my childhood. Every trip home reminds me of how much my life has changed since high school graduation in 1972. It also causes me to wonder where I might be if I had not moved west to attend Washington State University and study forestry. I never have to ponder the question too long to know that I made a good move in 1972!

The reason for my visit home was for the celebration of my mother’s eighty-fifth birthday. As the longevity gene dominates her side of the family, it will not be too long before we gather for her ninetieth! I did however note that as life’s milestones become larger, the corresponding celebrations become smaller. The unfortunate part of longevity is that each year, your list of contemporaries decreases.

During this trip east, I also had a chance to visit the site where I fought my first forest fire in the spring of 1971. I couldn’t help but chuckle when I remembered how unprepared we were to be working on a fire line. I also recalled that for supper that evening, the fire department treated us to bologna on white bread. Thankfully, the food served on the fire lines has improved greatly in the past thirty plus years.

After seven days of clear skies and comfortable temperatures, I boarded the plane and headed to south Florida for a quick visit with my aunt. When I planned this trip about eight weeks ago, my hope was that I might arrive early enough to avoid “the season of heat and humidity”. Alas, my hopes were quickly washed away as the flight approached West Palm Beach during a violent thunder storm. After circling the airport for twenty-five minutes, the captain announced that we needed to divert to Fort Lauderdale for fuel. After maybe another fifteen minutes of flight, the captain announced that the weather in Fort Lauderdale was adverse for landing so our next stop would be Miami. As I looked out the window, I saw a nearly endless wall of towering storm clouds. I couldn’t help but wonder what plan D would be if a decent into Miami failed. A quick check of the map confirmed that there were no airports south of Miami, unless you consider Havana, Cuba to be a viable option. Fortunately, the storm abated for a time and we quickly descended into Miami International for fuel and a safe haven to wait out the storm. After ninety minutes, we once again headed north and arrived in West Palm Beach, three hours late, but in one piece!

I spent a couple of days reminiscing with my aunt before once again boarding a plane for Oregon. Over the years I have made several visits to Florida but my visits were during the months of November or March, definitely at times when the heat and humidity is more tolerable!

Earl Returns To Strum Creek

2009-04-23T10:54:00.001-07:00

In November of 1977, both my friend Earl Rivers and I became the latest hires by the Dept. of Forestry in Astoria. Although more than a few years have passed, I still remember our early days as “new out of the box” foresters. To say that we were filled with wonder and awe for the job would be putting it politely. In those days, everything was new and exciting and we could not wait for the next experience offered by the job. Do you remember those days?

At any rate, Earl stopped by the house yesterday and wanted to take a ride to woods and see some forest tracts in which we worked during the early 1980s. For some reason he was especially interested in finding a track known as Strum Creek No. 3 and asked if I might remember where it is. Oh sure, no problem; the district on which we once worked is about 68 square miles in size and the area of his inquiry might be the size of a K-Mart parking lot. Since Earl left our work unit in 1985 and moved to eastern Oregon, I figured that his recall of the area might be somewhat fuzzy. If I got him close, that might be good enough for this trip down memory lane.

Not two minutes after leaving the highway, Earl commented that this part of the forest sure looked different than we he last saw it in 1985. I reminded him that over the past 24 years the trees have had a chance to put on a little growth; even an old forester has to be reminded that the forest is dynamic. As we rounded a sharp bend in the road, I reminded Earl of a time that he and I had spent a day measuring trees in this very spot. Sadly, he failed to remember, time is funny that way.

After twenty minutes of travel through the “forest of our youth” I stop the truck on a ridge high above Strum Creek. At this point, Earl got out of the truck and said that he remembered the access point being not from a ridge but adjacent to a creek bottom. He was saddened to learn that the access road he remembered had been closed or in forestry speak, put to bed, 15 years ago. In order to make it a total experience, I offered to drive back down to the highway and wait while he walked down hill through the tract. He showed little interest in my suggestion when I reminded him that he would be traveling 2.5 miles before meeting me at the highway. Somehow, the forest of our youth seems to have become a whole lot bigger with time!

An Easter Tradition

2009-04-14T12:31:00.000-07:00

Since the early 1940s, the local Pioneer Church has adorned their front lawn with a cross made from the clipped daffodils blooms. The cross announces the arrival of Easter and serves as a reminder to all who drive by of Christ's death and resurrection. It is also one awesome sight, especially when you consider that a hand full of people spent a day cutting and arranging the blooms. The church’s web site claims that the display requires 50,000 blooms; I honestly didn’t take the time to count but as the cross is over thirty feet in length, the estimate is certainly plausible.

Directly behind the church is the pioneer cemetery, the earliest burial dates back to 1850. Time has certainly weather the site and many of the graves are now unmarked because the original wooden markers rotted away long ago.

There are however several stone markers like the one shown in the picture. I have always been fascinated by this particular marker, it has stood the test of time and continues to reach for the sky.

A Terse Message Indeed

2009-04-02T10:14:00.001-07:00

In the early hours of January 7th, the steamer Rosecrans transmitted the following message: “We are breaking to pieces on the bar – send assistance – ship breaking up fast – can stay at my station no longer - goodbye.” This quick message announced the end for one of the unluckiest ships to ever set sail.

To fully understanding the story, perhaps more detail would be helpful. The steamer Rosecrans was a tanker owned by the Associated Oil Company, loaded with 19,000 barrels of oil, bound for Portland, Oregon. As the ship approached the entrance to the Columbia River with gale force winds driving a blinding sleet, the ship’s second officer made a small but fatal navigational error. The year was 1913; radar and GPS were yet to come, navigation depended solely on charts and the reference points provided by the light from lighthouses. In the stormy darkness, the officer mistook the light of the North Head lighthouse for that of the Lightship Columbia. His error placed the ship on a course that was less than two miles off shore. The standard course for entering the river is to approach no less than five miles from shore and then turn east into the river. His mistaken course directed the ship to steam head long into the south jetty (the massive rock wall in the picture) and as it rode up and over the jetty, the hull was torn to pieces. The ship quickly sunk sending thirty-three crewmen into a watery grave.

So why was the Rosecrans consider to be so unlucky? During its life, the ship was reincarnated several times before finally sinking. Originally launched in Glasgow, Scotland in 1833 as the Methven Castle, she served as a mail carrier until 1898. Later that year, the United States purchased her to serve as a troop transport during the Spanish-American war. Following the war’s end, she was sold as surplus and acquired by the Associated Oil Company who converted her into a tanker, renamed the Rosecrans.

In the early 1900s, while sailing along the California coast, she was driven onto the beach during a fierce storm. Following the grounding, insurance listed her as a total loss; however Associated Oil decided to rebuild the ship. Shortly thereafter while loading oil while tied to a pier, the ship caught fire. Once again the ship was rebuilt and placed back into service. On the night of January 7, 1913, the final bell tolled as the steamer quietly sunk into the grave yard of the Pacific.

The Color Of Spring

2009-03-26T16:43:00.000-07:00

A quick glance at the calendar tells me that spring is nearly one week old. Well, as of today, I still can not see it in the sky or feel it in the air. I did however find an ornamental cherry tree beginning to sport it's colors. Maybe that's the best we can do for the last week of March 2009!

Oh how I envy you folks who live in the southeast and have been posting photos of beautiful spring flowers. My envy will end abruptly when your temperature reaches eighty degrees; then you are on your own!

Spring Begins On Friday?

2009-03-19T09:24:00.001-07:00

Boy, as I look out the window, it's difficult to believe that spring actually begins tomorrow! At the present moment, the skies are dark and it looks as if a torrent of rain will be unleash at any moment. The temperature is also a balmy 45 degrees.

A sure sign of spring will be when my neighbor's rose bush begins to produce foliage. A few weeks ago when I made this image of a gigantic rose hip's shadow, the new buds were begin to swell. Sadly, when the foliage finally appears, the wall of the house will be obliterated and so goes my opportunities for shadows. On the other hand, as long as the sun shines, there will always be another shadow somewhere!

Saint Patrick’s Day On The Coast

2009-03-17T18:56:00.001-07:00

Not being Irish, I never really understood St. Patrick’s day and all things green, but why let a little thing like understanding ruin your day. So in honor of St. Patrick, I decided to see if I could find something green to photograph in honor of the patron saint. As it turned out, today was not the day for color of any sort because the skies were shrouded in deep overcast. At times, the overcast was broken by periods of intense showers which even included hail. A great day for photography!

The photo was taken from the banks of the Columbia River about thirteen miles east of Astoria. I seriously doubt the patron saint ever wander in these parts. If he did, it’s unlikely that he saw much in the way of green during mid-March.

Happy Pi Day

2009-03-12T14:07:00.000-07:00

Just in case you are looking for a reason to celebrate, be sure to mark Saturday, March 14th on your calendar. In the world of mathematics, it's known as international pi day.

Pi, not to be confused with a delicious desert, instead it is one of the most important mathematical constants known; countless formulas are dependent upon its value. Simply stated, pi is the ratio of the circumference of a circle to its diameter. For you non-math types such as myself, pi is a number which is equal to 3.14.

My first introduction to pi was not in a math class but surprisingly at Boy Scout camp in the summer 1966. We were camped at Butler Beach on Cape Cod and while huddled around the camp fire, someone noticed a blinking light in the evening sky. Immediately a couple of the older scouts proceeded to the beach to scan the sky, free of the campfire’s light. After a while my curiosity got the better of me and I proceeded to the beach to see what all the fuss was about. Alpin C. and a few of the other senior scouts had decided that the light was most definitely a UFO and they were discussing signaling the space craft using Morse code via a flash light. As I listen to the discussion, the consensus of opinion was that the message must be a series of numbers. So without missing a beat, Alpin grabbed a flashlight and began signaling deep space or as deep as the light from a flashlight might reach! Out of curiosity, I interrupted Alpin and asked what he was saying. He turned to me and announced that he was sending pi; my next question was what the heck is pi. When he finished signaling, he politely explained more than I ever wanted to know about pi. I suppose it goes without saying that Alpin was brilliant and graduated high school at the top of his class. He later attended both Brown University and MIT majoring in mathematics and computer science. I have to admit, the man certainly knew his pi!

But now back to 1966, Butler Beach, and the UFO. Even at that point in my life I had little appreciation for anything extraterrestrial. I walked away wondering why pi was the message chosen on that August night. While taking modern math in junior high a few years later, I came to learn that mathematics is considered to be the “universal language”. OK, so maybe if the blinking light actually was a UFO, presumably they would have understood the message. Years later, I still think that maybe a more neighborly message might have been to simply say hello or to invite our intergalactic friends to stop by our camp for a meal. The food as I recall was very good and we even had pie and ice cream most evenings. Surely such a treat would be fit for an intergalactic traveler!

Spring Is On The Horizon?

2009-03-07T16:39:00.000-08:00

January and February were always two of the gloomiest months when I worked in the woods to earn my living. By that time of the year, all of the annual vegetation such as the pearly everlasting or the thistles had long since died and turned brown. Frequently, the conifer trees would also begin to exhibit their displeasure with winter. Their foliage would begin to show the signs of damage from the desiccating force of the winds. Limbs, that had been ripped free of the tree’s trunk would also be scattered about the forest floor. All this would bear witness to the destructive forces of multiple winter storms along the north Oregon coast.

Pearly Everlasting

Thistle, it may be dead but it still bites!

In just a few hours we will “spring forward” into daylight savings time, assuming I can successfully reset the clock on the microwave. Oh that it would be as quick of a transition from winter into spring!

Stuck In The Shadows

2009-03-05T09:01:00.000-08:00

I frequently find the shadow of an object more interesting than the thing its self. I was recently fascinated by the shadows cast by an overgrown rose bush onto the side of a house. I made a number of images as the sun's light progressed along the house but I found these two to be the strongest of the bunch.

Many thanks to my neighbor for providing the rose bush and the side of his house for use as a photographic project. He is also aware that the siding is in desperate of a paint job!

The “Local” Moai

2009-02-28T15:57:00.001-08:00

I have always been fascinated with rocks of any kind. Being raised in New England, huge boulders deposited by retreating glaciers are a common sight. Our back yard had several that were larger than a VW Bug; we frequently used them for hiding places while playing hid and seek. So in every sense of the word, I was raised among the rocks.

So you might wonder why I became a forester as opposed to say a stone mason. Well, I also loved trees and fire; as a forester I was able to work with both. Fortunately, a career in forestry also gave me the opportunity to hike and climb on rocks of monstrous proportions, so in a sense I had the best of both worlds.

If I had a bucket list, it certainly would include a trip to the Easter Islands to hike among the giant Moai. The pictures I have seen of them are absolutely breathtaking but a picture only goes so far; there is no substitute for being there!

More Hidden Treasures

2009-02-24T14:24:00.001-08:00

These images are a few more "hidden treasures" from my abandoned Pullman rail car project . The more I review the entire collection, it makes me wonder if I should offer them to the local psychologists as an alternative for ink blots. Maybe I could derive a few dollars to reinvest at our local Starbucks.

The eye of the bat

The walking bat

The old warrior

Finding Hidden Treasures

2009-02-17T12:56:00.001-08:00

This past summer during my daily bike ride, I would frequently pass this old Pullman rail car. In its day, this car would have been the pride of the rail line, but now it's little more than a pile of rusting metal and rotting wood. In many ways the old car has become an eye sore; most folks pass by and likely just ignore it.

One morning while passing by as the sun lit up the car's side I noticed the most incredible designs that were formed by the peeling paint. I returned several days later with camera and tripod and spent a good deal of time photographing the "mystical beings" that were formed by the paint and rust. Over the course of the next month, I returned to photograph each side of the car and made a couple of hundred images. Over the last few weeks, I edit the number of images down to a couple of dozen have choose the following as two of my favorite "mystical beasts".

Ugly Betty sitting in all here glory

The ice dancers

The archer slaying the two-headed beast

Lurking In The Shadows

2009-02-03T19:34:00.001-08:00

I have always been interested in photography; if my memory is correct, I received my first camera in 1965. At the time, I was the proud owner of a Kodak Instamatic ; the thing was build as solid as a brick. That's a good thing because the camera got dropped a lot! The quality of the pictures it produced were also reasonably good considering there was nothing to adjust; just frame and shoot. It's been a long time since life was ever that simple!

I have always been interested in black and white images, especially those with have areas of shadows or reflections. To me, the shadows or reflections add a sense of mystery or intrigue to the photo. In a sense, they are like a bonus, adding an "economic stimulus" so to speak to the photo.

I was headed home last week when I spotted the shadow cast by a sign onto the side of a church in my neighborhood. Over the past twenty-five years I have passed by this church countless times but it never has appeared so intriguing as on this afternoon.

Meals-On-Wheels

2009-01-28T08:25:00.000-08:00

Meals-On-Wheels may sound like the name of the latest fast food restaurant, but in reality, it's far from it. Astoria, like many communities nationwide has a program (meals-on-wheels) which delivers a hot meal to residents who are housebound. Typically, those served by the program are elderly and often have limited contact with the world outside of their front door.

During the snowy days in late December, I had the honor on several occasions to assist with the daily deliveries. My job was relatively simple, arrive at the center's kitchen at 9:30 AM, load the 40 to 50 hot meals into coolers, and then stow the coolers in the delivery vehicle. As the assistant, all that is necessary is a strong back and a weak mind. Fortunately, the vehicle driver has been making daily deliveries for a number of years so he knows where to go without aid of map, compass, or GPS. Once the vehicle is loaded, you just follow the driver's cues.

Once started, the process is simple and repeated until all meals are delivered; cross check the individual name and address with the list and be sure if they are a diabetic they get a white bag. I have never looked inside of one, but apparently the diabetic's "goodie bag" is different. I presume that the difference has to do with the type of dessert served, but that's only a guess on my part.

The delivery process seldom takes much more than two hours so it's not a big time commitment. On the other hand, the rewards are priceless! At nearly every stop, you are greeted by someone whose smile of gratitude is truly genuine!

The meals-on-wheels organization also insists that when you volunteer, you must take a meal home with you for your personal enjoyment. After my first time out, I arrived back at the center to find that all the volunteer lunch were marked with your name as shown in the photo. The row of lunch bags marked with each individual's name instantly sent me back to my elementary school days; believe me, that's a long trip!

Baby It's Cold Out There

2009-01-22T08:48:00.001-08:00

After nearly four weeks of snow, rain, flooding, and endless cloudy days, the skies finally cleared and the sun returned big time. Despite the sunshine, it's still January and that frequently means cold temperatures. Saturday morning it was a chilly 38 degrees but with the east wind howling, the wind chill made it feel more like 29 degrees.

My mission for the day was to host visitors on the Lightship for two hours and hopefully not freeze to death in the process. When I arrived to "assume command" of the boat so to speak, I checked to be sure that the heater was functioning at full throttle. Since the outside temperature was still brutal, I figured that few if any visitors would venture out from the warmth of the museum. Just as I got settled and was defrosting my frozen bones over the heater, I notice a few hardy souls approaching. The standard procedure is to greet visitors as they hit the deck and to share a little of Lightship's history. My picture of the ship's ensign might give you an indication of how strong the wind was blowing at this point.

Where as the wind was howling and quickly chilled one to the bone, I decided on a new greeting protocol for the day. I simply welcomed visitors into the ship to enjoy the warmth. No one complained and I noticed that most stayed well beyond the typical ten minute visit. I wonder why?

Storm Light and Clouds

2009-01-14T07:11:00.001-08:00

If you ever want to experience rapidly changing weather and the opportunities it offers, venture to the Oregon coast during the months of winter or spring. One moment you can be pelted by hail stones and rain that are driven horizontally by the wind. If you brave the onslaught and patiently wait, you might be treated to a brief parting of the clouds as one squall passes and another approaches. In between the squalls, you might luck out and experience "storm light", a brief period when the sky is rich with both color and excitement.

A few weeks ago during a period of stormy weather, I recalled several lines from a 1960s song:

I've looked at clouds from both sides now

From up and down, and still somehow

It's cloud illusions I recall

I really don't know clouds at all

Both Sides Now - Joni Mitchell

With those lyrics swirling in my head, I grabbed the camera and headed for the beach to see if it was actually possible to see both sides of a cloud. The three images below were taken within an hour and hopefully give you an idea of what I saw and experienced.

A few minutes of "storm light" as a squall approached from the southwest

The storm pelting the windshield of my truck

Looking to the northeast as the squall passed. Hopefully we are seeing the back side of the cloud

Views From The Front Porch

2009-01-05T12:49:00.000-08:00

In a recent post by Paul Lester, he wrote about going beyond the technical aspect of making pictures; he advanced the idea of using your photos to tell a story. This summer I attempted this type of project with limited success, however Paul's post has once again rekindled the fire. Besides it's winter, the weather is nasty, and I will be taking another class at the community college so a diversion for all of this might be in order.

My plan is to photograph the views from my front porch; the deck of the porch is only four by twelve feet so from that aspect, the world is pretty small. We do however live on a very busy corner traffic wise so my guess is that the photos will not generally be static. On the other hand, I seriously doubt that they will be overly exciting. The object is simply to look and see what happens over a period of time. For this project, I will also keep the advise of Yogi Berra close at hand when he utter the following: "You can learn a lot by just looking".

With all of this in mind, I dashed to the porch this morning for a look and to make a few test shots to see what issues I will be facing. It's amazing what you see on a daily basis but never really pay attention to until you have cause. For example, the newel posts that anchor the railing to the steps restrict a good deal of the view. The three columns that support the porch roof will also present a challenge; I can not just whack them down with an ax!

You will also notice that there are lines in all of the views; they converge, diverge, and supply power to the houses. How do you make them work for you? Since I do not own Photoshop, cloning and stamping is not an option.

Then there is the thought of whether to show vehicle motion by blurring or simply by placement in the street.

I only have two lenses and it appears that my 17-85 mm will struggle with large vehicles such as the city bus. One thing I know for sure, I'm not buying another lens!

It also occurred to me that since today it was overcast, there were no challenges with lighting. On a sunny day, that might not be the case. Just a reminder for those of you who seldom get to the Oregon coast; we do get sunshine occasionally, even in January!

So with all this in mind, I will leave you with just one more thought from the great Yogi Berra who once said the following: "You got to be careful if you don't know where you're going, because you might not get there". Let the project begin.

Ice On The Chevy

2009-01-03T11:30:00.000-08:00

It has become somewhat of a tradition to take down the Christmas tree and lights on the first weekend following New Years. Since yesterday was a particular nasty day weather wise and clearly the best place was inside, I decided to get a jump on the post Christmas chores. I took down all of the interior lights and miscellaneous decorations but decided to leave the tree for my lovely wife to un-decorate. We have tons of ornaments and each one has it's own special storage box so clearly this was not a job for me. If left to my own designs, I likely would toss everything in one box and call it good.

So the only project for today was to get out the step latter and remove the five strands of lights wrapped around the porch pillars. Upon opening the front door this morning at 6:30 AM, I noticed that the stars were visible in the sky. Although this is a joyful sight, it also mean that any moisture that fell during the night has frozen solid as a rock. When my foot slid off the first step, the "freezing moisture theory" was now confirmed.

As I write, the sunshine is attempting to burn through the clouds but the temperature remains barely above freezing. The front porch is still encased in ice, so use of the step ladder on it might be grounds for a Darwin Award nomination. Sadly, the exterior lights might have to brave another day of two clinging to the porch columns.

The picture is of my neighbor's '57 Chevy Apache pick up truck encased in a thick coat of ice. Pretty cool stuff.

One Hardy Dude

2008-12-30T09:10:00.000-08:00

One of the most beautiful and prolific flowers in our garden each summer is the Shasta Daisy. They begin to bloom in early July and continue into late fall. Frequently in October when I clean out the garden, there will still be a couple of small blooms surviving.

This hardy guy actually saw service as the “Christmas flower” until finally covered by the multiple snows we received the week before Christmas.

Alas, even this hardy individual finally succumbed to the harsh winds and the crush of the pressing snow and ice.

Christmas Gifts From Long Ago

2008-12-26T12:51:00.001-08:00

Christmas Day circa 1955 and my first bike

Christmas Day circa 1956.

That was the year both my brother and I received gray-plastic robots, batteries not included. They actually walked, well sort of, the eyes flashed, and they made a grinding sound. Oh how I wish I still had that robot, it might fetch a bundle on eBay!

This year for Christmas, I presented my lovely wife with a LED headlamp. Now before you say that I am whacked, understand that the office in which she works has no windows so when the power goes off, it gets pretty dark. Our wedding anniversary is also a few days before Christmas and I always give her roses; so hopefully that shows that I have some understanding of the concept of gift giving.

Calling All Delawareans

2008-12-20T15:53:00.001-08:00

Shortly after beginning my volunteer experiences at the maritime museum and as a cruise host, it occurred to me that I might meet someone from each of the fifty states during the coming year. As the year’s end quickly approaches, my goal is nearly complete except for meeting someone from the great state of Delaware. With only one Saturday left in the month, what are my chances?

Today’s shift hosting on the museum’s Lightship was foiled by near blizzard conditions. The museum’s staff wisely decided to keep the ship closed as the gangplank and deck are covered with snow and ice. Now certainly, snow is not unheard of in Astoria, in fact in my thirty-one years as a resident, my snow shovel has received plenty of use. How today differs is that it began snowing at about 8:30 AM and it still continues to fall nearly eight hours later. If the forecast is correct, it will continue until late this evening before turning to freezing rain. Oh, I can hardly wait!

At any rate, if you are from Delaware or have even lived there, why not plan a visit to the museum on Saturday the 27th between 12 and 2 PM and stop by the Lightship and say hello. Not only will you enjoy your tour, you will leave knowing that you completed my goal for 2008!

The dock with nearly four inches of fresh snow

The ship's stern

The ship's snow covered bow

The snow covered gangplank

The Perfect Tree?

2008-12-18T12:36:00.001-08:00

Early last week, I mentioned to my lovely wife that it was just about that time of the year to go in search of the perfect tree for Christmas. Since my time is more flexible these days, I offered to do the tree shopping myself before the weekend, that way I could have it set up and ready for decorating on the Sunday. The lovely wife responded that she really wanted to come along and help; yes I realize that my definition of the perfect differs from hers! So it was thus established that on Sunday afternoon following church, we would venture out in search of a tree.

On Thursday evening, the lovely wife informs me that perhaps her Sunday afternoon would be better spent writing Christmas letters so perhaps I could get the tree on either Friday or Saturday. I do not think it was the call of the Christmas letters she heard but more likely she saw the weather forecast for Sunday which called for snow and temperatures in the mid-twenties!

So Friday morning after completing my work at the food bank, under threatening skies, I gathered my saw, boots, and rain gear and headed out to a local tree farm that I knew well. Over the years, I have cut many fine trees at this lot and as I had brokered the purchase of seedling for the former owners, I often received a professional discount on my tree. As the tree farm is located about twelve miles out of town I had lots of time to watch the sky grow darker with each passing moment. About half way there, I noticed the wind was rocking the trees on a distant hill and the rain was beginning to pelt the windshield of my truck. It was at this point I remembered how much I hated working outside on days like today but since the forecast called for worse weather, it was now or never!

I arrived at the tree farm and was greeted by the new owner; his first comment was something on the lines of how I should have been here yesterday when the weather was nice. He then goes on to explain how to choose a tree and finally what species were available and how to identify them. My first thought was to tell him that as forester with over thirty years experience I had a good idea what a good tree looks like and further, it was because of my efforts several years ago he now had a crop to harvest. My second thought and the one I went with was to stand there and keep my mouth shut and hope that he would soon have the good sense to get inside out of the rain. Just as he turned to leave, he added that all trees are only $6.50 per foot. If the weather had not been getting worse by the minute, I would left. As I hiked into the field, I began to calculate the cost of the perfect tree; since I was looking for one in the neighborhood of eight feet, I was going to be writing a check for fifty-two bucks. Now I realize that in some places, Christmas trees are extremely expensive, but Astoria is not one of those.

Too many choices on such a nasty day? The white spots are caused by light from the camera's flash reflecting off the rain drops

As I head over the hill, I begin to develop my strategy, find a short tree that’s fat or speaking more politically correct, full at the bottom. Since this tree farm does not culture their trees, they all have a more natural appearance; therefore they often lack that “full figure appearance”. After five minutes I spot the perfect tree but I want to get a picture before putting a saw to its base. I reach into my coat pocket only to realize that the camera is back in truck safe and dry, so it’s back up the hill to fetch it. As I get to the parking lot, the owner is shocked to see me and comments that surely I am not giving up so quickly. I inform him that I have located a candidate but mention nothing about the camera; I do not want him to think that I am a total lunatic.

So with camera safely secured in my coat pocket, I head back down the hill to complete this mission. If you have ever gone to the woods you know where I am going with this story. As I continue down the hill, I can not find my perfect tree or the saw that I had carelessly laid beside it. As the rain continues to pelt, I wander aimlessly between the rows of trees in search of something that looks familiar. Oh yea, at this point I’m having loads of fun. It also hit me why I retired; I wanted to be inside of such miserable days.

2008's perfect tree or at least that's my story and I'm sticking to it

The saw and tree were finally located, cut and the financial obligation settled at the cash register. Over the course of the next year, I will also be searching for a new Christmas tree farm.

The Cupboard Was Bare

2008-12-10T10:01:00.000-08:00

Like most communities, Astoria has an emergency food pantry which provides supplemental food to those in need. At the urging of a friend, I recently signed on as a volunteer, so once a week I help by restocking the shelves with canned goods prior to the Friday afternoon distribution. While attempting to complete my restocking mission last week, I was reminded of the following nursery rhyme: “Old Mother Hubbard went to the cupboard to fetch her poor dog a bone; but when she came there the cupboard was bare, and so the poor dog had none.” I felt much like Ms. Hubbard because when I went to the storage room to get food, there was none there!

As you might expect, the demand for supplemental food has never been greater. If you are wondering what you could do to help out, consider making a cash donation to you local food pantry. On the other had, if you prefer to give food, peanut butter, tuna fish, or canned fruits are always in demand. It’s never a bad idea to just pick up the phone and call your food pantry and see if they have other specific needs.

This is also a time to give from the heart, so as much as you want to rid your kitchen cupboards of that old jar of sauerkraut, please think again. Now before you say hey, is a Ruben sandwich is complete without sauerkraut? Consider the likelihood of someone who depends upon supplemental food and their ability to obtain corned beef and Swiss cheese. To the other defenders of a sauerkraut donation, yes I am aware that it was consumed by sailors in the 1800s because it is rich in vitamin C and thus prevented scurvy. However, during a recent visit to my doctor, I asked him how often he treats patients with scurvy; to which he responded, never!

Yes, I agree that at times the needs of the many are overwhelming and we can never meet all of them but to just help a few is far better than nothing!

Drizzle, Mizzle, - Whatever!

2008-12-02T07:51:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was one of those miserable days on the coast; it drizzled pretty much the entire day. In addition to the extremely low light levels, you got soaked if you ventured outside. How is it possible for such tinny drops of water to get you so wet?

I spent most my day building new a set stairs into the basement; so every time I need to cut a piece of wood, I ventured outside into the drizzle and got soaked. To my amazement, the project was completed in less than one day and only required two trips to the lumber yard. Without a doubt, I set a new personal best for a home repair projects.

Today’s task will be to untangle the ball of wires also known as the Christmas lights. I need to find the bad bulb which has caused half of the string to go dark. Sounds like another fun project right! It’s very likely that by noon I will have retired to the “big box warehouse” and purchased a replacement set.

The photo was taken from my front porch at about three PM, it gives you an idea of what the weather was like all day yesterday.

Let Us All Give Thanks

2008-11-25T16:07:00.000-08:00

I have been reading Vernon Heaton’s The Mayflower and was reminded once again about the importance of giving thanks, regardless of our circumstances. Heaton chronicles the Pilgrim’s sixty-four day voyage as follows: “As the days drew into weeks, the weather steadily deteriorated: gale force winds blew up and the sea rose until the Mayflower found herself in the middle of a series of fierce storms. Below deck, the air grew stale, fetid and vitiated. Attempts to relieve the stench and drive out the stale air by opening the scuttles and hatches were frustrated by the rush of seawater that soaked the bedding, clothing and the bodies of the passengers. Seasickness broke out again and in the dank, stuffy … passenger holds, conditions became almost intolerable.”

About 15 years ago during a visit to Plymouth, MA, I had the good fortune to tour the Mayflower II. Obviously, the Mayflower II is a reproduction but if memory serves me, the ship builders made every effort to build a faithful reproduction. I still have vivid memories about how little space there was below deck; it was nearly impossible to stand upright and not knock your head on a beam. I can scarcely imagine how fowl the air must have become in the passenger holds when crowded with 102 Pilgrims.

Finally on November 9, 1620 “land ahoy” was called and the road trip from hell was nearly over. The Mayflower’s intended destination was the mouth of the Hudson River in New York State but the unrelenting storms had driven the ship far north. With winter upon them, the decision was made to find a suitable location to build winter quarters, finally on December 11th, the Pilgrims disembarked in what is now Plymouth, MA.

William Bradford, who was later chosen by the Pilgrims to be their first governor described their arrival as follows: “Being thus arrived in a good harbor and brought safe to land, they fell upon their knees and blessed the God of Heaven, who had brought them over the vast and furious ocean, and delivered them from all the perils and miseries thereof, again to set their feet on the firm and stable earth, their proper element. They had now no friends to welcome them, nor inns to entertain or refresh their weather beaten bodies, no houses or much less towns to repair to …..” Still, they all gave thanks!

As Thanksgiving approaches, if you have a roof over your head and your biggest worry is whether you turkey is organic or if it lived its life as a free range bird, then you have sufficient for which to give thanks. The older I get, the more I realize that life is more or less a matter of perspective, so lets all give thanks for what we have, regardless of how little it might be!

Washington DC - What A Place

2008-11-18T17:37:00.000-08:00

In the continuing saga of working The Plan, I planned a vacation for my wife and myself to one of our most favorite destination, Washington DC. When discussing my goal with a friend recently, he informed me that as a retired person, you do not take vacations. Instead, you take trips to desired destinations. Ok, whatever!

Our first trip to Washington was in March of 1987 so needless to say, things have changed a bit since our last visit. In particular, security police were present at every location we visited along with endless metal detectors and bag inspections before entering any federal building. In some respects, it was as if we never left the airport and the TSA.

If you have never been to Washington, you are missing an experience which I believe has few equals. The opportunities to sight see are endless and every museum of the Smithsonian houses a national treasure that you should see before departing this earth.

Before you jump in the car and head to the "Big City", I offer the following recommendations for your considerations:

Purchase a comfortable pair of walking shoes because you will need them. During our trip, we averaged five miles of walking per day.
Get a guide book and read it before you go along with a map of the city.

Develop a list of sights you want to visit and then establish priorities. Trust me, you will never see everything.
The Smithsonian is not one museum, it's actually a complex of 16+ museums scattered across the city.

Finally, forget about driving in the city because parking is extremely scarce. Ride the Metro subway or the bus.

I have included a few photos from our recent trip to hopefully peak your interest. As you might guess, most of the monuments and buildings are huge so it's difficult to get a picture without some of the endless distractions cause by construction, security fences, or traffic.

Mount Vernon, the home of George Washington is located about thirty miles south of the city but definitely worth the trip. In the photo, the house appears huge because of it's length but in reality it's much smaller because it's very narrow width. Once inside, you actually begin to feel a little claustrophobic.

This is the view of the Potomac River George Washington enjoyed while sitting on the back porch. It's easy to see why he loved the place so much.

A view of the main house from the upper gardens. We spent over two hours just exploring the grounds and gardens.

The Capital dome as seem from the Botanical Gardens.

The white structure in the distance is the Lincoln Memorial as seen from the World War II memorial.

The Washington Monument is visible from just about everywhere. This is how it appears from the World War II memorial.

The reflection wall inside of the Korean War memorial serves a reminder to all of us.

These soldiers are part of the Korean War Memorial

A volunteer polishing "The Wall" aka the Vietnam Memorial. The Wall is a very moving experience.

The boots of a fallen GI placed in from of The Wall

The World War II memorial looking east to the Atlantic Gate

The Jefferson Memorial as seen across the Tidal Pool

I was fascinated by the sheer size of the columns which support the roof over the Jefferson Memorial

Two fallen leaves from a Ginkgo tree located at the National Zoo

Packing The Wife's Luggage

2008-10-31T11:21:00.001-07:00

A few weeks ago my wife traveled to the Columbia River Gorge to attend a conference so I tagged along for an opportunity to explore the area. I also served as my wife's luggage porter as she currently suffers from a shoulder aliment and finds it difficult to lift much in the way of dead weight. Now I mean not to imply that she packs similar to Mrs. Thurston Howell III of Gilligan's Island fame, but her baggage appeared more than sufficient for a two day trip.

Like many, I have pass through the Gorge numerous times traveling to and from Eastern Oregon for work, but I have never taken the time to explore the area and enjoy its beauty. The area was once home to large numbers of Native Americans who fished the mighty Columbia River for salmon. The waters surrounding Cascade Rapids and Cleo Falls near The Dalles were favorite places for the Native Americans to gather.

The region is also rich with the history of the Lewis and Clark expedition of 1804 - 05 and stories of the countless pioneers who followed the Oregon Trail beginning in the 1840s.

The true length of the gorge could be debated for hours on end, but most agree that it is about eighty miles in length. While driving this distance from west to east, the annual precipitation drops from 36 to just less than 14 inches. With such a change in precipitation, the landscape changes dramatically in a relatively short distance. This just adds to the wonder and beauty of the Gorge.

I spent two days hiking and photographing places in the Gorge that I have wanted to visit for many years. The weather was less than cooperative but the rain clouds just added to the experience. My photos will hopefully give you the urge to one day come and explore this wonderland for yourself.

Nothing has changed the Columbia River more than the construction of the dams beginning in 1933. Pictured is the behemoth Bonneville Dam which is a major producer of electrical power.

Cascade Rapids and the area known as the Bridge of the Gods depicted in the early 1930s. Today, the rapids are submerged below the waters behind Bonneville Dam.

The Cascade Rapids were formed sometime in the 1700s when a massive landslide totally blocked the river. This massive land bridge became known as The Bridge of the Gods. The massive boulder pictured behind me is typical of those which entered the river. I estimated the boulder's height to be nearly ten feet and it was about 15 feet in both length and width. It must have made one heck of a noise when it came roaring down the mountain side.

At the west end of the Gorge in vicinity of the Bridge of the Gods, the forest are dominated by Douglas-fir and an occasional big leaf maple.

As you travel east from the Bridge of the Gods, the annual precipitation decreases rapidly and so do the trees and associated vegetation.

This picture was taken near the Gorge's east end and looking north towards The Dalles, OR. The annual precipitation drops to about 14 inches, thus tree growth is severely limited.

The following pictures are of the Stonehenge Memorial located near Maryhill, WA. The memorial was built in 1918 by entrepreneur Sam Hill to honor the men of Klickitat County killed during World War I. If you are interested in photographing shadows, be sure to visit the monument in the spring or fall when the angle of the sun is low.

While you are visiting Stonehenge, be sure to see the Maryhill Museum which was also built by Sam Hill. On display is one the best collections of Native American artifacts I have seen to date.

The Final Cruise For 2008

2008-10-27T13:49:00.000-07:00

The early morning hours of October 16th saw dense fog and cold temperatures in Astoria as we prepared to greet the final cruise ship for this season. The Mercury, the pride of the Celebrity Cruise Lines was late docking due to foggy conditions, but nearly fifty members of the Astoria Cruise Hosts anxiously awaited. We were armed with visitor maps, recommendations and directions to local sights, and the omnipresent smile.

This season set a record for the number of cruise ship visits, nineteen in total. It gave us an opportunity to share our small part of the world with folks from near and far. I attempted to catalogue the countries from which passengers and crew that I met; my list reads as follows: Argentina, Australia, Barbados, Bosnia, Brazil, Bulgaria, Canada, Columbia, Cuba, Denmark, England, France, Germany, Greece, Ireland, Malta, Mexico, Nepal, New Zealand, Nicaragua, Netherlands, Philippians, Poland, Puerto Rico, Russia, Scotland, South Africa, Spain, Sri Lanka, Switzerland, and Wales.

As I review the list, I am reminded that our world is indeed a very small place. I am also reminded that regardless of where a person calls home, when traveling, we all have similar wants and needs. To that end, I share a list of the most frequently asked by the passengers and crew.

Where is the drug store? If you are from the United Kingdom you might call it a chemist.

Where is the "old fashion" JC Penneys I have heard about?

Where can I get a cup of coffee?

Where can I get Internet access?

Where is the shopping mall?

Do you have a good brew pub near by?

How do you get to the Goonie's House?

Where can I get an international calling card?

Is there some where I can purchase electronics?

If you have never heard of the Goonie's House, you apparently are over the age of say thirty. At any rate, the movie titled The Goonies was filmed in Astoria in the mid-1980s and a local house served as a major set location. The movie has a sort of cult following that honestly I fail to understand, but then I could never be accused of being Hollywood's biggest fan either.

I have to admit that getting to meet so many fun people who traveled long distances to visit Astoria will likely be the high point for me when I close the cover on the book of 2008. I will also be anxiously awaiting cruise season 2009 which begins on April 3oth.

Now to the two of you who may be reading this post, perhaps you are wondering about the picture I have included. Could it perhaps be a crucial part of a ship or is it a symbol for the strength of the cruise host volunteers? Sorry to say, it's neither. I was waiting to meet a friend for lunch last week and noticed some very old industrial equipment near by, so this is how I spent twenty minutes.

Age of X Begins On Thursday!

2008-10-20T17:33:00.001-07:00

Since becoming a docent, I have had the great pleasure to give tours to groups of Boy Scouts, high school and middle school student as well as to the eclectic groups of cruise ship passengers who visit during the summer and fall months. Without a doubt, the most fun and demanding group to work with are those in the primary grades, mainly grades four through six. For this group, we offer a tour call the Age of Exploration, AKA the Age of X; the tour is fast paced and packed with lots of hand on activities. During the ninety minute tour, the kids get an opportunity to learn about the daily life of the local Native Americans and their interactions with the fur traders beginning in the 1790s. We also provide a hands on experience working with the tool used for celestial navigation. Finally we provide the kids with an insight as to why the waters of the Columbia River are dubbed the “Grave Yard of the Pacific”.

To me, the Age of X tour is my favorite because of the student’s participation and enthusiasm. Frequently, their hands are raised and waving just in anticipation of your question. Kids of this age group also answer your questions directly and openly; suffice to say they never pull any punches! It certainly keeps a docent on his toes at all times!

As I prepare for the first Age of X tour for the new school year on Thursday, I am reminded of an incident that occurred this past spring. While sharing the story of the grounding of the sailing ship Peter Iredale in 1906, the docent asked the kids to decide if it was caused by mechanical failure, weather, or human error. Without missing a beat, one little voice from the group loudly announced that the cause had to be because of a “lousy captain”. While attempting to suppress my laughter, the docent calmly explained that it would be more appropriate to refer to this as human error. Kids, you have to love them!!

Just in case you are wondering, the British government ruled during the court of inquiry that the grounding was not the result of human error. Score one for the captain and crew.

The Peter Iredale in 1906 shortly after running a ground during a fierce storm

The bones of the "Iredale" in April of 2008. Fierce winter storms have revealed the ribs of the ship's hull.

The bow of the Peter Iredale looking south

The bow and a portion of the mast seen while looking north

If you have never seen a ship up close, come to Fort Stevens State Park and explore the wreck of the Peter Iredale. You can even do it at low tide and not get your feet too wet!