Deer Gangs

The deer in Moran State Park, and indeed all of Orcas Island, are very well behaved. As I drove the roads, they stayed on the side of the road. Rarely did they walk in front of my car or stand dumb-founded as my car approached.

Not like the deer in the Methow Valley. There’s something wrong with those deer.

As you drive along highway 20 from the North Cascades, you will see a sign that gives the number of deer killed in car collisions. Some years it’s a very high number.

I’ve wondered as I’ve driven past that sign, “wouldn’t all the dumb deer be killed by now?” With the high deaths of deer deaths of dumb deer meandering in the middle of the road (I’ve seen them do that along the highway). At some point, only the smart deer who know how to stay off the road would survive and teach their young to do the same. One would think, right?

A few years ago I found the answer – Deer Gangs. Adolescent deer hang out together by the side of the road daring each other to walk in front of cars.

Now hear me out.

A few years ago I was spending some time in the Methow. A few friends and I rented a cabin where you turned off the main road near a blind curve. And it was a blind curve, not only did it turned but as it turned it dropped down a hill.

One evening as I was headed back to the cabin, I slowed down to turn onto the dirt road when I noticed a group of deer hanging out in the blind of the curve. One started into the road as I came near but then backed away and went back to the small group of deer. It was if they were daring each other to walk in front of cars.

“Hey Jeff. Here comes a car. Walk out there and see what happens to this one.”

I could almost see cigarette butts hanging from their mouths and tattoos on their arms.

Not the Moran deer. They were more like “How do you do? I’m sure you’ll enjoy the view from the top. We certainly do. Carry on.”

The Moran deer were far more courteous.

The People You Meet

Several years ago I sat in on a talk given by National Park Historian Alfred Runte while at Mt Rainier National Park. He spoke of the treasures that our National Parks are for us – not only do they protect our wilderness, our history and our culture. They are meeting places of the world where we can meet people from other cultures and share in the experience we might not have otherwise shared. Our National Parks have the ability to bring people together.

I was reminded of his talk recently while on a trip to the San Juan Islands to visit a couple of Washington State Parks and the San Juan Islands National Historical Park.

I first met John and Louise, a retired couple who now live on San Juan Island near Friday Harbor. We met while walking around the prairie at American Camp of San Juan Island NHP. John built the white picket fence surrounding the old parade grounds. He had worked for both the park service and forest service in his time and Louise had built the reputation of always ready for adventure. We chatted about the park, bicycling and what views could be seen on the loop trail I had chosen. It saddened me to part with them but as I watched them walk along the trail, I smiled at having met them.

Later in camp, I met Rainier and his wife who had decided to go on a road trip with their Prius and, wanting to save money, were experimenting with sleeping in the back of the car. They slept very well (it was the larger Prius). They had travelled from California to Washington visiting friends and family along the way. She informed me that her daughter runs the Driftwood Inn in Yachats, Oregon – so if you’re ever in town I understand all of the food is made from scratch including the bread.

It was just a chance meeting with Marly while we walked to get water in Moran State Park. She and her friend had hiked in Obstruction Point Park that day while I spent some time at the top of Mt Constitution. She asked about the view as they were headed up the next day. Of course it had been a wonderful view and at sunset the clouds parted enough for Mt Baker to show herself. And in the last light of the day the clouds took on a look of pink cotton candy clinging to the mountains slopes. The next morning, she gave me a packet of dried vanilla leaf because my story of the cotton candy clouds touched her so.

To end my solitary week, I spent the weekend at the Mountaineers Lodge at Mt Baker for an artist and photo retreat. A bit of a shock to my system when I am surrounded by 60 people who are all creative in some way. There was Erwin whose photography I’ve admired for some time. Brooke whose abstract plein-air paintings and exuberance sparked my imagination. Watercolor masters from Canada and plein-air painters from Washington shared their work all weekend.

And finally Nancy who we both realized may know the same Marcia and we laughed at the small world and our interconnectedness. A community where we didn’t know existed.

Bucket List

Yes, I have one.

Publish my books.

Go on an African Safari.

Tour India.

Photograph the Aurora.

Summit Mt St Helens.

This year I was able to cross one of them off . . . permanently . . . with a big ole black marker.

Eighteen years ago was my 1st attempt only to be turned around by weather and an insane guide who mocked me of my fears of being blown off the rim by the storm that was bearing down on us.

Since then, I had planned and purchased 5 more climb permits only to be turned away by weather, injuries and insecurities.

But this year I finally made it.

I didn't go alone. My sister gathered a group of friends who trained with us and climbed through boulders and pumice to celebrate our achievement on top of an active (ish) volcano. I doubt I could have done it without them.

From Mark's glee at finding a new passion to Evie's determination to not let a bunch of boulders get in her way to Andrea's magical cooling rags to my sister's insistence that she would kick my ass if I didn't get to the top, I found the ability in myself to overcome the heat and self-doubt.

Every step was worth it - to watch as the landscape changed with every ridge line - to accomplish a goal so long in the making - to share the accomplishment with new found friends.

I look forward to the next accomplishment especially with my friends - old and new, near and far - supporting me along the way.

And of course a sister who won't hesitate to kick my ass to get it done.

Love you all.

A Little Pocket of Paradise

I found my little pocket of paradise this past week.

It's not much. No grandiose views although it is a bit photogenic.

Nothing earth shattering in its location or history.

It's just a pocket and a quiet little pocket, just what I needed and what I didn't know I was looking for.

When I found my pocket I knew though that my heart and soul would forever think of this place when in need.

In times of need when I want to envision my happy place, I think of an alpine meadow shrouded in fog. I feel protected and at peace.

But here on this little knoll looking out into a meadow nestled between basalt bluffs, I felt at home. Beyond protection and peace, this place was comfort.

I could have stayed there forever yet I have no desire to encroach on the landscape by building a home. Maybe in that corner over there so I could have this unspoiled view to myself.

Shared with the deer wandering through the meadow, uncertain of me yet also unafraid.

This is my little pocket of paradise.

The Scent of Green

Green has a scent.

Green smells like spring in a Pacific Northwest forest.

As the ferns unfurl their fronds reaching out for new life, you can smell it.

As the Salmonberry and Thimbleberry leaf out and blossom preparing for their juicy summer fruits, you can smell it.

As the undergrowth replenishes through warmer air and moist days putting forth sparkling gems of wildflowers, you can smell.

As the moss drips with rain water from the sturdy boughs of the trees surrounding you, you can smell it.

As the Big Leaf Maples and the tentacles Vine Maples spread their palmated leaves to collect the sun and rejuvenate their roots, you can smell it.

As streams rattle and crash over rocks and through banks of glorious and vibrant greens, you can smell it.

As you walk through a Pacific Northwest forest in the spring, you can smell it.

You can smell green.

Have you smelled it?

Hiking the Upper Dungeness River

Beautiful partly sunny February days don't happen very often here in the Northwest. But when they do, you better know that folks will line up to hike the low land snow-free trails - unless the trail is a 3 hour drive from the Seattle.

Welcome to the Upper Dungeness - or any trail on the north end of the Olympic Peninsula. A magical place where the crowds just don't go, at least not early in the season. By the time we parked and got our boots on, we saw no other cars in the parking lot.

The Olympic Peninsula is a magical place for me. This is where I first learned about the wonders of the natural world. It's also where I learned about hiking and backpacking. Even old familiar trails are new and wondrous for me with each passing season.

So when I have the chance to share my favorite places with others I leap at the chance. I get to spend the day in the wilderness with friends as they explore nature and themselves. What could be better than stopping by a river and having a snack in camaraderie of fellow travelers?

And when you're hiking through the shadow of ancient trees on a chill February morning, stop to feel the sun on your face for a brief moment and become spellbound.

What's Your Secret?

Will you tell me your secret? 

Ooh. That's a cool old barn that you photographed. Where did you find it?

Wow! Great lighting! What technique did you use?

Have you been asked these questions? Or asked them? What was the response? 

Oh, I found that barn on my latest road trip. The technique is natural light. And is that all the response given? It's as if the photographer is afraid to tell you too much for fear that you'll then know his or her secret?

Well let me tell you a secret of my own. Don't tell anyone, ok? Just between you and me.

There are no secrets. 

Let me repeat that - there are NO secrets.

A recent exchange on Facebook left me wondering why some photographers are so hesitant to share their knowledge. I can understand trying to protect a place as a fellow photographer lamented the destruction of vegetation near a waterfall as photographer's clambered to get just the right image. But sadly once a place has been found, it will not remain secret and our next step in protecting the place is through education and Leave No Trace policies. Sarah Marino wrote an excellent blog post about this very thing.

But beyond protecting a place from overuse is there another reason? Is it a fear of not being unique anymore? Not having that one of a kind image?

Another friend of mine was helping a wedding photographer for a year when he finally "discovered" how that photographer achieved a certain look in his images. Why not ask? Was it because photographers have a heinous reputation for guarding their secrets?

Just do me a favor. Open your browser to Google and type in that place or that technique you think only you know. See what happens. I will lay even money down that there will be several entries for your query. So why do you keep it secret.

What's a better solution? Teaching. For those special places we hold dear, teach the next photographer you see how best to preserve the environment. For the person who wants to know how to light a subject, guide them through the steps.

I promise, you will be all the better for it.

Oh and if you're interested in where the above image was made. I created it somewhere is Eastern Washington. ;-)