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.

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.