Chasing my Tent

It's windy in the Inland Northwest. That wonderful area of Washington and Oregon that is high in sunshine and low in rain. We are talking prairies plateaus, deserts, and sagebrush. The wind can whip through the landscape as if scouring the land of any ability hold forest roots and create a nice wind block. Even when trees are rooted in the soil, they sway in the wind, bending to it's will.

It was this wind that I traveled into on my recent road trip through Eastern Oregon. A wind so strong, it felt as if it might suck the moisture from the soil.

My 1st night was spent in the Columbia River Gorge. Known for it's winds that attract sail-boarders and wind surfers from around the world, I should have expected the wind swirling around the wind-breaks in the campground.

But there I was staring at the wind - looking at it as it pressed against my face as if I could stare down the gusts. I was trying to put up my tent. I sighed and started the task, in the wrong order - stake down first THEN put in the poles. I however, erected the tent 1st and then tried staking it down. I barely had the stake in the ground when a gust happily snatched the tent away from me and started dribbling it like a ball across the lawn. I took off at a run to steal my tent back and played tug of war with the wind back to my tent-site to finally get it secured into the ground.

My second bout with wind came as I was driving through the Malhuer National Wildlife Refuge south of Burns, OR. The winds huffed & puffed against my car from the west. My car labored to move forward and between gusts shot forward in it's freedom. I the distance I saw a dust cloud stretching from a plowed field across the highway. I have driven through dust storms before and smoke from forest fires - I never enjoyed them as your sight is limited even farther than most fog I had grown up with in the Snohomish River Valley. I soon entered the cloud and my heart immediately began racing. "Holy SHIT!" No visibility. None. if I continued I would crash and die. If I stopped, someone would crash into me & I would die. But the wind, being fickle, lifted the dust cloud enough to keep me moving forward. My heart continued to beat fast as I raced beyond the dust cloud to my next destination . . . and more wind.

I have enjoyed images of the Alvord Desert for a couple of years and wanted to see it for myself, so my road trip of course included a stop here and hopefully I'd be able to catch star trails and a tranquil desert sunrise. What I get was wind gusts coming across Steens Mountain that jostled and shoved my car all night. I set up my camera to try & catch  the last light of day on the clouds that hung over Steens Mountain to the west. But when I turned my back to grab a filter from the car, a gust pushed the tripod with camera over into the cracked & crusted soil. Damn! My camera is already held together with pink duct tape! but the camera was fine. The tripod however, the one I borrowed from my boss, was broken. I had the pink duct tape stowed in my car and quickly tried my best to stabilize the head, but any ability for real long exposures for the rest of the trip was gone. No star trails. No cotton candy clouds in the sky. No silky waterfalls. And I had to figure out a way to apologize to my boss.

My morning project, I wanted the sun peeking over the distant hills. When I woke up, clouds screened out the horizon. But I watched as the sun rose behind the clouds and I was able to make the image above. I stood between the worst of the gusts and the camera & tripod. Even with the issues I experienced or maybe because of them I am just as happy with this image than if everything had gone according to plan.

Icons

What do you think of when you think of iconic images when you about to head of on a trip? Do you think of those images that describe the "Place?"

The view from Kerry Park on Queen Ann Hill of Seattle with the Space Needle in the foreground and Mt Rainier in the background?

Yosemite Valley with Half Dome looming at the far end?

A palm tree shading the beach on Hawaii?

How about an image that describes the experience?

Several years ago while I was on a road trip, my first in the southwest and on my own after getting married, I was driving along a highway through the mountains of Southern Utah. Snow, blown by the wind against my windshield, made me wonder why I was out here in March. It looked damned cold outside and I had several more nights in a tent before heading home. I was trying my best to look at the sights around me without becoming a traffic hazard, when I viewed this little abandoned cabin set back in the woods.

I suddenly became that traffic hazard I was trying to avoid being. I made a u-turn right in the middle of the highway (luckily it was a lonely stretch of highway).

That cabin became the meaning of my trip. If I took no other image during my drive, I would have been happy. There was a loneliness to the cabin that described what I was feeling at the time. And yet there was a protective encirclement of trees, a safety of sorts for the cabin. And I knew there was one for me too.

Since that lonely trip so long ago, I have gone through several life changes. A divorce, financial hardship and a severe bout of depression had taken their toll. Through it all though, I could get lost in my viewfinder to see the good and beautiful in the world.

It was time for another road trip.

I chose Eastern Oregon, a long time favorite destination. This time I was going to a few old faves (John Day Fossil Beds, Bend) and a few new places (Malheur National Wildlife Refuge, Smith Rock State Park). A week on the road, exploring and photo-ing. Just me and the turtle.

I looked forward to the time alone. The time to think. The ability to go where I wanted, when I wanted. Sing badly at the top of my lungs.

I turned onto this road early one morning while driving through southeast Oregon. It was straight, cutting through the prairie like a knife and seemed as if no one was there with me.

I loved the lonely, the silence. I loved the straight road leading me on, beckoning me to move forward to something new and something comfortable. The road and the image above became the icon for my trip.

The image below is the cabin I shot so many years ago in Utah.

Inventory Trip #1

Eastern Oregon, 12/7-12/10/09

This year our company sent us out to all the corners of the northwest to count inventories. My first trip would be to the Northeast Oregon area - Bend to Enterprise. I was assigned this area because I don't mind driving in snow and there's several passes I would need to go over along my way.

I flew into Redmond/Bend airport late in the morning and stopped by to pick up my rental car. The customer service gal mentioned I'd be driving an H3 and I wondered if I was supposed to know what that code meant. It took me a few seconds to realize that what she meant was an H3 - Hummer. OH S***! I'd be driving a Hummer! My boss & I had been joking about my needing a Hummer for Michael to allow me to go but I really didn't expect to be driving one. But I was glad to have it. Bend had been hit with a snow storm the night before I arrived and then sub-zero temps. The roads were slick. I slipped a little in the H3 but generally the beast handled the conditions rather well. Our manager & I actually had a little fun tootling around town in it.

The next morning, as I stepped out to load the car, the snow crunched beneath my feet. The night had been so cold ice had formed a thick layer on top of the snow. As I tried my best to scrape the ice off my windshield (my arms are too short to reach enough to make a difference) I noticed the temp was -11 degrees. YIKES! Glad to be in a well-heated car. But the sun was coming up, a rosy sky greeted me as I drove to Prineville. It was promising to be a marvelous day. It was -5 when I stopped to take pictures of the steam coming off the lake - my finger quickly froze and I quickly retreated to the warmth of the Hummer.

After Prineville, I made my way to the John Day Fossil Beds National Monument. Last time I was here was spring a couple of years ago. I wanted to see the painted hills unit with snow on them. Again I was happy to have been driving the H3 - the road over Ochoco Divide had several icy miles and the road leading into the Painted Hills unit was nothing but compact snow & ice. But the hills were as amazing in snow as I had hoped. I was having so much fun shooting the shapes & lines I almost didn't notice the cold. Almost. Next time I'm out here in the winter like this I need to stop at Blue Basin - if the painted hills look this cool, I can just imagine how the Blue Basin will look.

I stayed the night in John Day and the next morning made my way to one of my favorite areas in Eastern Oregon - the Wallowas. The day was so cold the cows standing out in the their fields had a bright shimmer of frost coating their hairs. The cold was becoming torturous. I was luxuriously warm in the Hummer. I toured around the Wollowa valley after the inventory count was finished. Drove to the end of Wallowa Lake and hoped for a sunset but there wasn't one happening for me. Explored a couple backroads and came across a stream with unusual ice formations - the ice had a rippled effect underneath the stream. Was so cool I had to get a couple of shots.

The next morning as I started my drive back to Bend and the airport I was stopped by steam coming off the Wallowa River hoarfrost forming on the branches and rocks, the sun streaming through to create a golden mist. I was enthralled. A To me, a marvelous send-off to my trip.

All of the Colors of the Earth

John Day Fossil Beds, 5/23-5/26/08

Memorial Day Weekend found me leading a group of Mountaineer Photo Geeks to the Painted Hills in Eastern Oregon. The Painted Hills are one of three units that make up the John Day Fossil Beds national Monument. Located along the John Day River, the monument contains the highest concentration of mammalian fossils in North America. In fact several species were discovered among the fossil beds since their discovery in the 1800's.

Each unit is special in it's own right, but admittedly the Painted Hills unit is the most spectacular to behold. The claystone that make up the hills contain several different mineral deposits that create yellow, gold and red bands across the hills with black spots. As the are clay erosion takes its toll as rivulets of water carry the particles of clay away to make smooth mounds and contours of what's left behind.

The best viewing is in the afternoon when the sun has that late afternoon glow and the hills light up against the dark background of green hills and forests. But I had also heard the morning can be pretty spectacular too, so our first morning we watched as the sun rose behind clouds only to peak out once in a while to tease us with the saturated colors of the hills. We came back for the afternoon sun and were not displeased to find the clouds had mostly burned off - and the hills aglow with the afternoon sun.

Another day of colors and curves and I was ready to head home - overly saturated myself with the wonder.

One Last Waterfall

Palouse Falls, 3/26/08

It was cold this morning as Olympia & I drove out the old dirt road, winding our way between the ranches on our way to that perfect view of the Wallowas. I had spotted the view the day before as I was about to round the bend and drop back down in the valley. "This is it!" I said to Olympia ass the mountains came into full view. "This is where I want to watch the sunrise." And the reward was spectacular, the pinks lit up the snow still clinging to the slopes and sparkled on the clouds overhead. Then all too soon it was gone.

After exploring the surrounding area a bit, we packed up to head northward towards Walla Walla and Palouse Falls. I stopped in the town of Wallowa for a mocha breve made by a friend at the Blonde Strawberry Coffeeshop - worth the stop anytime of the year.


We reached Palouse Falls in the afternoon after driving through fields showing the first signs of spring and others still sleeping under the spell of winter. I had never seen Palouse Falls and was amazed at the size of this cascade in the heart of sagebrush country. But the view was magnificent as I stood high on the cliff overlooking the gorge that had taken centuries to carve through the volcanic rock.


At our feet stood the most raggedy yellow-bellied marmot I had ever seen, but also the bravest. His home was in the cracks and crevices over-looking the gorge. Just watching him jump around on the rocks made my stomach lurch. After a quiet and cold evening at the falls, Olympia made our way home to spend the rest of the week in relative warmth at home.

Uncharted Territory

Northeastern Oregon, 3/25/08

There's something about the prairie that both stills my heart and makes it ache in earning. I'm not sure when my fascination with the prairie started - was it a family road-trip as a child or that first night in eastern Wyoming where I first felt "home." I know, weird. I'm a western Washington girl - I grew up in one of the most abundant and beautiful areas of the nation. And yet the open prairie calls to me.

I see in the prairie. Looking across to the horizon I know there is a horizon there without the obstruction of trees. Sometimes I just feel claustrophobic in western Washington - smothered by the green. A trip east usually eases my pain, at least for a little while. I see in the prairie life as I don't see it in the ever green trees of western Washington. I began to ask myself why as I journeyed through eastern Oregon to the Wallowa Mountains and Zumwault Prairie.

The answer I found is that I can experience the life cycle of nature far more closely here in the vast openness of the prairie. Spring sets life in motion, the natural world feels young again. Summer brings in the ripeness of the earth, the preparation to to fulfill its destiny of re-creation. Fall of course is the harvest when all things prepare for the blanket of winter comes to insulate nature for the coming spring and rebirth. Here I feel the natural world at its most primal - as was intended from the beginning. Life happens and I see it in the prairie.

Spring Road Trip 2008

Another Spring and another road trip. I had planned to return to the Southwest and backpack through Bryce Canyon. But plans have a way of changing, so then came plans of exploring the Oregon Coast. But weather has a way of changing plans also. What I decided finally was a visit to some old Washington & Oregon favorites and few new sites as well. The best of the final plan was that I'd be able to travel with Olympia, my Yellow Lab mix who has been my companion for the past eight years - longer than my husband.

I started out at Mt St Helens then went to Cape Disappointment. From there, I traveled up the Columbia River Gorge for waterfalls and flowers. After a few days there, I continued east to the fabled Wallowa Mountains and the Zumwault Prairie. It was up to Palouse falls before heading home with one tired dog and several stories to tell. Tune in later for those fantastic stories and images.