E took Asher for a walk again today and this time M went along. E has been subbing for one of Asher’s owners who has been out of commission for dog walking. The good news is that said owner* is on the mend and and will be able to return to duty soon.
*Asher himself does not use the word ‘owner’ and instead refers to L as “one of my two very well-behaved human roommates.”
This is Verbascum thapsus, common name Great Mullein. It’s common over most of the world, says Wikipedia, but it ain’t very common around here, says us. How exactly did it get into this OSU forest clearcut?
What with one thing and another, it was 3:30 by the time we got ourselves packed into the truck. We travelled east through the towns of Lebanon and Sweet Home and into the mountains. We were headed for an old CCC campground called Yukwah on the banks of the South Santiam River. It was only an hour away, fortunately, so we had enough to time to set up camp, take a little walk along the river, and then have our dinner before it got too dark. You know it’s fall when it starts to get dark at 7:00 instead of 9:00. We were just washing up as the light got dim.
Saturday, September 16
Today was hiking day, so we could justify a big breakfast: eggs and potatoes with cheese along with sweet peppers from the garden. Very nice. But of course we had forgotten to bring bread, so we couldn’t use E’s old stovetop toaster gizmo. Sigh.
After breakfast we cleaned up the camp so that it wouldn’t look too horrible or too tempting while we were gone. Then we got back in the truck and drove the eighteen or so miles to the trailhead. The last 15 miles were gravel, fairly smooth in most places but also quite steep and always dusty. The route took us up out the South Santiam drainage, over the ridge and down into the Middle Santiam, offering a few nice views along the way.
We didn’t plan on a long hike, just a visit to the Middle Santiam Wilderness, one of our favorites places in the Cascades. From the trailhead the first 300 yards of the trail takes you through an area that was logged long ago but is now thickly forested with mature cedar, hemlock and fir. Only the presence of a few giant stumps reveals that it was once a clearcut.
There were many nurse logs in the area. Hard to say how old this one is. 25 yrs? 10? 5?
Another view of the same log.
After 300 yards, the trail comes to the line where the early 20th Century cutting stopped. From there you walk through living old growth forest with trees so big you can’t tilt your head back far enough to see their tops. At roughly the one mile mark, the trail reaches the river and that’s where the obstacle course part of our day began. First came a steep scramble to get down to the level of the river. Along the way, some satirist had placed a number of giant fallen trees, some demanding to be crawled under and others wanting to be climbed over. Okay, fine. Be that way. Then we got to the river, which is low at this time of year, shallow and only ten or twelve feet across. So you know the drill…change into your stream crossing shoes, tie your boots to your backpack and get ready to cross. We don’t hike with trekking poles, so our preparations also had to include searching around for some sturdy sticks to help us keep our balance in the water. Luckily, other people had already done the same and had kindly left their sticks to be found. Once across, it was time to rest a while till our feet dried. That at least was no hardship.
Then we walked another three quarters of mile along the trail, just to see the many three and four hundred year old trees growing on the steep slopes above the river. Of course one or two old trees had fallen across the trail, causing their own kind of fun. At a Y junction, we took neither road, just turned around, went back down the trail, and recrossed the river. Then we made our way back up one obstacle course and down another till we reached our true destination–the swimming hole.
The swimming hole from above, on the wrong side of the river.
The swimming hole from below. E reports that the water was really cold but invigorating.
The trees nearest the river are deciduous, but they seemed tall as well.
After the swimming it was time to go home. Here’s a little stream we crossed on the way back up to the parking lot.
We’d eaten some lunch up in the wilderness, but by the time we got back to camp we were starting to think about dinner. We weren’t too excited about it though because by then we had realized that some key parts of our delicious dinner had been left behind and were still sitting in our freezer back in Corvallis. Oops. Still, we managed to make a meal out of burgerless buns with all the trimmings. Luckily we had not forgotten to pack dessert.
After dinner we walked again along the river, this time leaving the path for a while and walking just beside the water on a very rocky beach. We heard some birds chattering and fired up the Merlin app, which informed us that we were listening to an American Dipper. We then caught a glimpse of it on the other side of the river: a small, dark colored bird that was hard to make out in the early evening light. We’d never heard this bird’s call before, except that E realized that the American Dipper had been featured on the Bird Note podcast just a few days ago, an odd coincidence. Then, five minutes later, when we came up out of the river bottom and approached the fishing platform, what did we see on the railing?
We think we’re beginning to understand how the Dipper got its name.
Sunday, September 17
The previous evening E said she wanted to get up in the night and go out and see the stars and that M should wake her. You bet, said M. Along about 3:00 AM, he gave it a try. “Time to get out and look at the stars,” said he. After a short pause, E answered, saying “Uh-uh. I just finished telling John to stop painting the floor green.” M could not argue with that and so did not persist. It was maybe just as well, since it was getting a little cold out at that point, low forties or worse. And there were too many tall trees blocking out the stars anyway.
In the morning we had a non-hiking day breakfast of E’s secret granola blend topped with yogurt and a homemade concoction of partially cooked fresh strawberries. Pretty good. Then it was time to pack up and head back home. Today was the final day of the season for Yukwah campground, so we were the last campers of the year at site #8.
We would have liked to move the table farther in, putting it closer to the grill and farther away from the road. But it was massive! Must have weighed hundreds of pounds. It was also old. It’s been a while since people made tabletops from 3’x10″ planks.
Monday, September 18
Did we sleep better last night than we had the two previous nights? Uh…yeah.
Once we got out of bed, we decided to go over to Albany and buy some vintage coffee cups that E has had her eye on. And while we were in town, we went over to WalMart where there is an Electrify America charging station. This would be the first time for us to charge the car anywhere except at home. We found an open 350v charger and after some stumbling about, we figured out how to make it work. We charged the Ioniq’s battery from 24% to 87% of its capacity in just 17 minutes, which is about a minute faster than Hyundai promises. Conditions, of course, were near ideal, with an ambient temperature of around 76 degrees.
We went for a hike to Drift Creek Falls, which is in the Coast Range near the town of Lincoln City. We hadn’t been there in ten years or so and we found some “improvements” to the trail and to the trailhead parking area. The were a lot of people on the trail and how could you blame them? It was the perfect day for hiking, partly cloudy with the temperature in the low seventies.
The highlight of this hike is the long suspension bridge above the waterfall. The creek is barely flowing this time of year, bit it’s still a pretty sight.
Were all those vertical notches made by previous versions of the waterfall? How old is this place anyway? It could be even older than we are.
We sat on a log to have our lunch. There were other, smaller logs nearby,, logs that you could just sit down on without getting into a major climbing project. But no, E wanted this one.
Another view from the bridge.
Friday, September 8
E went for another walk with her friend Asher, this time up to Cronemiller Lake near the OSU Arboretum. It was another fine early fall day, clear and calm.
Saturday, September 8
We got up early today, E well before 6:00 and M soon after. We’d signed up for a tour at a State Natural Area twenty miles away and we were supposed to get there before 8:00. By the time we finished our breakfast, decided what to wear, and packed up our water bottles and binoculars, it was just past 7:15. Off we went, gliding along in the Ioniq 5. We got to the parking area at 7:45 and found that we were among the last to arrive. Our tour mates were no sluggards, despite their combined ages running well into the four figure range.
After a general presentation by staff of the Luckiamute Watershed Council in the parking area, we walked a couple of hundred yards to our first stop, a bird banding operation in full swing. The banding team included Josée Rousseau, a post doc fellow at the Ornithology Lab at Cornell who got her PhD here in Corvallis. She was doing the examination and banding. Other team members included a data recorder, who made a record of Rousseau’s observations, and a group of five or six runners. The runners’ job was to set up the mist nets and then check them at regular intervals. When they found birds, they would extricate them from the net and put them into small cloth bags for transport to the banding station. At the station Rousseau measured each bird and looked for various clues that would allow her to determine the bird’s age. As she announced her findings, another team member entered them into a ledger.
The bird bander at work, watched by another member of the team. In the background you can see a bagged bird awaiting its turn to be examined and banded.
Here Rousseau is looking at the width of the various color bands on the wings of this bird to help determine its age.
This photo shows how to hold a wild bird, the so-called birder’s grip. Also visible is the band on the bird’s left leg.
Banding groups such as this one get the bands from the North American Bird Banding Laboratory of the U. S. Geological Survey. The NABBL keeps a database of band numbers that includes a history of all encounters with banded birds. People who run across banded birds (alive or not) can check that database to see where and when the bird was first banded. They are also asked to go to the NABBL website and enter the details of their own encounter.
After spending about 45 minutes at the banding station, we left the banding team to their work and started off on a loop tour of the restoration area. The North Luckiamute State Natural Area ( NLSNAT) includes a total of 615 acres at the confluence the Luckiamute and the Willamette rivers. The entire area is a natural flood plain, but of course some areas are lower than others. About 275 acres are so low that they are flooded almost every year. These sections have never been used for agriculture and remain in their natural state, with towering cottonwoods and a thick understory of smaller trees and shrubs. This kind of riverside forest is called a gallery forest and once grew on both sides of the Willamette along the entire length of the valley. Very little of this forest remains because in most places farmers were able to extend their fields right up to the edge of the river.
In addition to the 275 acres of habitat that was never cleared, various conservation initiatives have allowed for the purchase of 340 additional nearby acres. This land had been used for agriculture for over a hundred years. This agricultural use ended in 2012 and restoration began. The restoration work was done in five phases and our tour guides were able to show us the results. Our first stop was Phase 5, the most recent one, which consists of one 60 acre field that was planted with native species trees and shrubs in 2020. The plants there are now just one to three feet tall and since they were planted in rows the area still resembles a cultivated field. The older phases, however, show what such a ‘field’ can become. Cottonwood trees planted just ten years ago are already twenty feet tall and protrude from a dense ten foot high understory. They have already become a native species forest.
We were passing through one of these areas when M caught a glimpse of sudden movement just beside the trail. When he stopped to take a good look, whatever it was seemed to have disappeared. But he finally made it out. It was a very well camouflaged frog:
The frog gets its name from the bright red coloring on the underside of its legs, which is not, alas, visible in this photo.
When we pointed it out to the others, one of our guides identified it as a Northern Red-legged Frog (Rana aurora) and told us that it was listed as a “Species of Concern” by federal and state agencies due to habitat loss and displacement by invasive American bullfrogs. It was nice to see evidence that this newly created habitat was doing its job.
We got home from our tour at around noon, in time to rest up for our next event of the day, a birthday party for our friend J, who recently got herself some shiny new shoulder hardware. She’s been working hard on PT and we wish her well as she faces the challenges of regaining her full range of motion. At the party, we all sat in her nicely shaded back yard enjoying good food and great conversation.
Monday, September 11
Errands and appointments today, plus grocery shopping. E had Zoom yoga. M took the Ioniq 5 for its first wash.
Tuesday, September 12
It was time for a meeting of E’s THEPAJ group, this one hosted by P at her cottage on the coast. The other members usually carpool to and from, and it was E’s turn to drive, which was fine with her since she’d get to show off her new car. The car lived up to expectations, making it there and back with 132 miles of charge still left.
Three members pose at the recent THEPAJ gathering. H,A and P are in the picture. E took the photo. T and J were absent.
Over the weekend, we sold our Mazda CX-5, which was very sad. But….it went to a nice young woman named Jennifer, who was looking to replace her current 2002 Mazda that had over 200,000 miles on it. We think she’ll take care of our old one.
Thus fortified by a modest infusion of cash, we went to Salem to shop for an electric car. We had already test driven a Hyundai Ioniq 5 once before, but we needed to look at one again to refresh our memories.
Wednesday, August 23
More car shopping in Salem. We test drove a Kia EV6, which has the same EV powertrain as the Ioniq 5. Otherwise, the EV6 is quite different. It’s wonderful and we immediately wanted one. But we got a bad vibe from the Kia dealership. Plus, the Ioniq is a bit more practical. So back we went to the Hyundai dealer, whose softer sales approach made us more comfortable. After looking at the Ioniq one more time, we decided to go for it. We were thinking of buying but found that leasing was cheaper. (As it happens, purchased Hyundais do not qualify for the $7,500 federal rebate, but leased ones do.) They didn’t have our color on the lot but said they could get us one from somewhere up north.
Thursday, August 24
In the early afternoon the dealer called and said our car was ready. So we went back up to Salem to get it. The color is called Digital Teal. It’s mostly just blue but occasionally looks green.
Friday, August 25
Our electrician came and installed a new 240V outlet in the garage.
Sunday, August 27
M mounted the Level 2 charger. We are in business.
Wednesday, August 30
We took a long walk in the OSU Dunn Forest north of town. We’d been there a several times before, but we took a wrong turn anyway. Sigh. Should have been carrying a map. Still, we ended up in a new place and that was interesting. Fortunately we had our lunch with us: tuna sandwiches, celery, two Dove chocolates and two very wee drams of Jack Daniels. We also got to see a recently fallen tree. Many big firs succumb to windstorms and fall while still living, in which case the root ball remains attached. This tree looks like it died in place and did not fall until its core rotted away.
Friday, September 1
Today E took her friend Asher for a walk, as she does on Fridays. They took a good long trek in the OSU MacDonald forest. M went along this time and took their picture.
After ensuring that both Asher and M were sufficiently worn out, E took Asher back to his owners’ house and then somehow convinced M to take her to the Oregon State Fair. E hadn’t been to the state fair for a few years, but she knew exactly what to do. She wanted some onion rings, she wanted to see horses, and she wanted to look over the prize winning cakes. Since the whole fair seemed to revolve around unhealthy food–there must have been fifty food booths–her first goal was pretty easy to accomplish. The last two were harder to find, but we managed.
Saturday, September 2
We didn’t do much today, just a short walk and some tasks around the house. We were both tired from Friday! We did figure out exactly where we needed to park the new car in the garage and made a system to help us find that spot. The new car is very high tech. Fortunately, we will be able to use a very low tech solution to the problem of in-garage navigation. This will help create more balance and harmony in our universe. We call it the blue tape, white string, and ball system.
Had we had bought the highest trim level of the Ioniq 5, we would have been able to drive part way into the garage and then get out of the car and use the remote to have the car slowly move itself to precisely the spot we wanted. We passed on that.
Sunday, September 3
Chocolate croissants for breakfast. Splendid. During the day, E did some sewing, shopped at the Co-op, and–after consultation with a cohort–began searching through old photo archives. This proved to be a hazardous endeavor as she was stung by a yellow jacket while at her work station in the garage. E survived; the yellow jacket did not.
M went for a short drive in the Ioniq 5 and a long drive in the F-Type. It is hard to imagine two more dissimilar cars, but of course he likes them both.
After our morning walk in the forest, E made cookies for a friend who is going through a difficult time. M did yard work and also wrote a few paragraphs for his latest writing project, a memoir of his childhood in Utah. For dinner, we had leftover paella refreshed with a bit of cod from Natural Grocers. Delicious.
Thursday, July 27
We had tertulia with R and J at our place. We have quite a few blueberries these days and E used some of them to make blueberry muffins for the occasion. Of the many recipes at her disposal, she chose the one from the Fanny Farmer Cookbook. They were awesome. After that she had two classes: in-person BBB in the morning and Zoom Laughter Yoga in the afternoon. And it was already time to pick more berries…
Friday, July 28
M went off into the Cascades in the truck today, following Highway 20 and the South Santiam up to House Rock Campground. He took Latiwi Road southward, climbing up to the ridge line and eventually returning to Highway 20 on Gordon Road. On his way down Gordon he came upon an unusual sight–a wrecked vehicle upside down beside the road about eight miles from the highway. It’s a Nissan Xterra SUV. XTerras were sold in the U.S. from 2000 to 2015, but only the 2000 to 2005 models had drum brakes in the rear as this car does. So it’s an oldie.
There were a bunch of red shotgun shell casings on the ground near the car, as if it had been shot many times after it was already dead. Don’t know what that’s about. The wheels and tires are gone; only the brake drums remain at the ends of the axles.
Brake drums, shock absorber, leaf springs, sway bar, tie rod, differential cover, hydraulic brake lines, parking brake cable, part of the muffler and tailpipe–things you don’t often see from this angle..
Having gotten M out of her hair, E managed to cross a lot of things off of her ever growing to do list. Today she is working on planning for some kind of major gathering scheduled to take place next winter.
The weather has been wonderful lately, eighties in the afternoons with cool mornings and evenings. We ate dinner outside today–leftover spaghetti and fresh salad. On TV we’re watching The Diplomat. We have mixed feelings about it, but it holds our interest.
Saturday, July 29
The Nachos for Dessert food truck was working a car show today at the Vancouver (WA) Mall. So we got in the red car and went up to check things out. We had some terrible mall food for lunch, but then some fine dessert at the truck.
We looked at the cars, too.
This Nash Metropolitan is pretty cute. The Metropolitan was designed in the U.S by Nash-Kelvinator and was also sold mostly in the U.S., but manufacturing was outsourced to Britain.
Most of the cars at the show were American made, but here is another British made car. The photo shows the engine compartment of a fifties/sixties era Mini.
And just for comparison, here’s the engine compartment of the car that was parked next to the Mini at the show. This engine is a fifties/sixties era Chevrolet V-8 (with an aftermarket supercharger.)
Sunday, July 30
M went out early in the morning to pick berries so we could have fresh baked blueberry muffins for breakfast again. Very tasty. Then, after we took a walk in our little local woods, M did irrigation system repair while E transcribed several more Uncle Charlie letters.
The letters are from a large collection written by E’s father’s brother, Charles Osborne Chambers, who was an officer in a the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers during World War 2. The letters E worked on today were sent from Germany in 1945, about the time that the war in Germany came to an end. E was surprised to learn that Uncle Charlie’s work did not end then, nor did the secrecy and censorship of the letters. In almost every letter he mentions that although there is lots going on, there’s not much news that he can report. However, in contrast to his earlier letters from 1943, he does reveal where he is stationed (first in England, then in France, then in Germany.) He mentions being headquartered in a German village whose occupants had fled, leaving behind neat stacks of freshly cut firewood. He observes that the roof of the house they were using was “pretty well shot up” but that the house itself was warm and dry.
E is also struck by the fact that Uncle C wrote so faithfully to his mother, despite the burden of long and difficult hours of work. It makes E imagine that they had a very special bond, C being the firstborn child of the family. It is also evident that E’s grandmother, Lizzie, wrote many letters to her son, although these do not survive. Mail service was erratic and C mentions that when mail finally arrived, he often received as many as eight letters from home at a time. Lizzie also sent packages to C, which cannot have been easy considering the times. It appears that she sent cookies and other items at regular intervals. At least once she sent him a bar of Lava soap. This must have been a much needed item: he mentioned it in three separate letters. Of course he does explain that such repetitions were often deliberate because he was never certain that all of his letters would reach her.
Monday, July 31
More nice weather today, but the forecast is for higher temperatures later in the week. M did grocery shopping and worked on his writing project. E made a batch of minestrone soup. She likes to do this in stages, so she worked on it off and on all day. We had our friend J over for dinner. J is recovering from shoulder surgery and cannot yet drive, so we sent one of our large fleet of vehicles to fetch her. The soup was great. And so were the Magnum bars that we had for dessert. Fortunately, we were able to eat them outside where the drips didn’t matter.
Later on, E transcribed another Uncle Charlie letter and M caught up on the latest episodes of Witcher.
We drove thirty-five miles or so south down to Eugene and then flew up into the air, heading north. The day was clear and our flight path was relatively low, so we could look down and see I-5 almost all the way up to Seattle. We had a 45-minute layover at Sea-Tac, then lifted off for Boise. We were still climbing when we passed very close to Mount Rainier. Spectacular.
We rented a car at the Boise airport and checked into a Quality Inn. Once we got in the room, we understood why the motel was not called the High Quality Inn. For one thing, our room was missing a least one piece of furniture. But basically it was okay. So we also understood why they didn’t call it the Low Quality Inn. We had dinner at the Denny’s next door. The meal scored highly for proximity to our hotel.
Sunday, July 16
This was our day to kick around Boise. We decided to go to the Idaho Botanical Garden, which is located on the outskirts of the city at 2355 Old Penitentiary Road. It turned out to be quite nice. There is an English garden, a rose garden, a meditation garden, a children’s garden, a koi pond, a native plant area, and more. Plus, immediately adjacent to the garden, there is an old penitentiary. Not so nice.
A helpful sign pointed out that this section of the garden was where temporary gallows were constructed when an execution took place. Hangings took place outside the walls of the prison so as not to disturb the sensibilities of the other prisoners.
After walking through the garden, we toured the penitentiary, which has been developed into a museum. It is one of only three decommissioned U.S. prisons that are open for public view. Someone has gone to a lot of work to provide extensive interpretive information about the history of the prison and the people who were there. A sign at the entrance invites any visitors who happen to be former ‘residents’ or family members of residents to contact the museum staff if they would be willing to help with the ongoing research.
Four of the cell block buildings are open to walk through. The oldest, dating from the late 19th Century, has incredibly tiny individual cells with steel latticed doors. The cells in the middle aged blocks were a mix of single, double and triple bed cells and had the more familiar steel bar doors. The newest block, completed in the early 1950’s, was noticeably more humane and had somewhat larger spaces. None of the cells had windows. The prison closed in the 1970’s after several buildings were damaged during a series of riots.
One of the most interesting exhibits is a row of 24 cells where each cell has an information placard about one of the prisoners who spent time there. The Information includes dates, reason for incarceration, a photo of the resident, and in many cases, information about what happened to that person once they were released.
The experience of seeing the prison was a little creepy and we did not take pictures. For the curious, there are lots of (uncreepy) photos and other information here.
After the prison tour, we retired to our motel room to recuperate and to get out of the 105 degree heat. Later on we took a hint from one of our readers and had dinner at Twigs Bistro in Meridian, a Boise suburb.
Twigs is a lovely place. The distance from here to life in those old cell blocks is so vast as to be almost incomprehensible.
Monday, July 17
After a less than high quality breakfast, we went to pick up our overlanding vehicle from Idaho Overland Adventures. Owners Brianne and Joe had everything ready for us and gave us a one-hour orientation before sending us off. The vehicle we rented is a Toyota 4Runner that has been modified to include a rooftop tent, a nice sized side awning, and a slide-out kitchen in the rear. The kitchen includes a 12-volt refrigerator running off a dedicated battery that can be charged either by the truck’s electrical system–while driving–or by a solar panel for days when the truck is parked. The truck also has an impressive Garmin GPS system that not only tells drivers where they are and what roads to take, but also relays the truck’s position to the home unit in Boise and allows for emergency communication no matter how far out in the boonies one might be.
On the first day, we didn’t actually use any of these things. Instead we just drove a couple of hundred highway miles down to Elko, Nevada and stayed in a motel. The motel was nicer than our previous one, but it also had a big bare spot in one corner of the room. In back of the motel we saw a couple of dozen armchairs and three or four couches arranged in neat rows in an unused part of the parking lot. Are all hotels like this? E went for a swim in the pool. And then we had dinner at a Basque restaurant.
Tuesday, July 18
Today our trip began for real. First we made a meal plan for the next two days and went off to the market to get what was needed. That done, we filled up the tank at what we thought might be the last gas station we would see for the next two hundred miles. We then drove north on Nevada Highway 225 and started looking for the road to Jarbidge via the ghost town of Charleston. We did not know that there were actually two ways to get to Charleston from the highway–one good one and one bad one. We turned off on Humboldt River North Fork Road. As we found out later, that’s the bad one. In fact, in places, it was terrible–not really dangerous for people, but hard on machines. It was also beautiful, passing as it did through the low hills of uninhabited sagebrush desert. The Garmin was really helpful; it knew the route well and was quick to let us know what to do whenever we had to decide between two faint tracks, each seemingly leading farther into nowhere.
Eventually we came to the end of the wrong road and connected up with the better one. We passed the Charleston ghost town and found that there was still an active cattle operation going on there. We also found active cattle.
Finally we got to the high point of the trip–both literally and figuratively–Copper Basin and Bear Creek Pass. The former was the area that M thought we just had to see.
The road to Jarbidge climbs along the east side of Copper Basin and eventually reaches Bear Creek Pass at 8,488 feet. It then drops very steeply down the other side of the mountain till it reaches the level of the Jarbidge River at about 6,500 feet. The town is just a few miles downstream. We set up in a somewhat primitive campground next to the river a half mile from the town.
Getting in and out of bed required a ladder. Note the awning extending out from the driver’s side. That came in handy when it rained.
At around 2:00 in the morning, M descended the ladder and went out stargazing. The Jarbidge River canyon is steep and narrow, which meant that he could only see a relatively narrow band of sky running north and south between the canyon walls. Still, it was a moonless night and the nearest town of any size was 100 miles away, so there were plenty of stars to gaze at. The Milky Way, meanwhile, was running east and west, and looked like a glowing white bridge stretching across the canyon from rim to rim.
Wednesday, July 19
In the morning the weather was again sunny and warm, pleasant in the shade but a little harsh out in the sun. We walked into town to see the sights.
In 1909 there was a gold strike in the area and miners began to pour in. One story has it that the town was first called Mahoney, after an early prospector. For reasons unknown, the name was later changed to Jarbidge, a mispronunciation of the Shoshone word Tsawhawbitts. (According to Shoshone legend, Tsawhawbitts was a giant cannibal who roamed a certain canyon in the far reaches of northern Nevada, hunting for unsuspecting men to toss into a large basket and carry back to camp for dinner.) Eventually a large-scale gold mine operated in the canyon, with a vertical shaft running down 1100 feet, where a number of horizontal shafts branched off. The apparatus in the photo below was located at the top of the vertical shaft and was part of the mechanism for operating the elevators that would take miners up and down and bring the ore up. Production was high for about ten years but then gradually declined, finally ceasing in 1932.
These days there are several dozen buildings in Jarbidge, including a hotel (of sorts), two bars, and a general store. Of the many houses, some are very nice, but few are very large. Some houses don’t look like much at all, at least at first glance. Look again, though, and you see that most of them are solid, snug and well-maintained. Only a few of them are lived in all year. The over winter population is said to be about fifteen hardy souls. The most crowded time of year is hunting season. During our time there, the town was alive, but hardly lively. There seemed to be only one business open, a bar/restaurant called the Outdoor Inn.
There are no paved streets in Jarbidge and the town speed limit is 10 mph. There wasn’t much traffic, either vehicular or pedestrian. As we walked along Main street, we did see one very neatly dressed old man slowly make his exit from the Outdoor Inn. He used a walker to shuffle over to a white pickup truck, got in and drove away, stopping at a house about 300 yards south on the same street. Presumably that was where he lived. Then an ATV came by, driven by a girl who looked to be ten or eleven years old. There was another girl in the seat beside her. They were just barely tall enough to see over the dash, but they were laughing and having a grand time. After a few minutes the driver returned, this time without her friend. Later on, another ATV passed by, this one driven by a boy, who was maybe seven or eight. If he had been seated, he would have been too short to see over the dash, so he stood on the floor of the machine just behind the wheel. As he passed, we were both struck by how small he was to be driving down the street, but even more by his demeanor. With his eyes fixed straight ahead, he stood as motionless as a statue, with a serious, stoical, trancelike expression with a hint of sadness.
Back at our camp, we were feeling hot and dry, so we went and sat in the river for a while. There was still a little snow melting up in the hills, so we got cooled off pretty quickly. After that we dried off and went back up to the truck for lunch. As we ate we noticed some light cloudiness moving in from the northwest. It was nice to have a little less sun and we started thinking about naps. But then the clouds got darker and we could hear a bunch of thunder off somewhere. Vay! Vay! Vay! as you might say. E located our rain shells and started moving all non-waterproof items to shelter and M jumped up on top of the truck to reach up and extend the rain flaps around the roof tent. That process is quick and easy, but only if you know what goes where. We really appreciated having had the benefit of Joe’s detailed orientation back in Boise. By the time the storm hit us, the tent was prepared, the truck was closed up and we were settled in on our folding chairs under the awning. Which was good, because the rain came hard and fast.
It lasted about 45 minutes. Quite enough, thank you.
After the rain stopped, the clouds lightened a little and we had a visitor. E took its picture.
Thankfully, that one shower was the extent of the rain and we were able to cook dinner without drowning our veggie burgers and cookies. After dinner, we took another walk, this time in the direction away from town. There were striking rock formations on both sides of the canyon that looked quite lovely in the early evening light.
Thursday, July 20
Today we had to get back to Boise and return the 4Runner, as early in the day as possible. So we were up at 6:00 and on the road by 7:00. We took the easy route out of Jarbidge, one that M knew well from his previous visit. Also, we knew we had plenty of gas. So it was a relatively stressless trip, the only problem being that Boise was about six hours away. We got there, though, and made a quick stop at the airport, where E rented a car while M continued on to turn in the truck. By 3:00 in the afternoon we were checked into a very nice room at a Hampton Inn downtown. We had just enough time to clean up and go to dinner at Epi’s, a very nice Basque restaurant. This we had been looking forward to the whole time. It did not disappoint.
Friday, July 21
Up at 5:15 today and on our way to the airport by a little after 6:00. The Boise airport is nice, very easy to understand and to deal with. Our plane was late taking off, however, because of heavy fog in Seattle! Fog? The whole idea was preposterous! But there it was, and the delay almost made us miss our connection. Isn’t it amazing how slow some people in airports can be, if you happen to be in a hurry? But we got to the gate in plenty of time, at least two minutes before they closed the door. By 11:00 we were back in Oregon. At the Eugene airport, by the way, the Eugene Library has provided an automated story/poem dispenser in a corridor on the way to the gates. You push a button to choose one of the two, short story or poem, and the machine prints one up and spits it out for you. E got a short story, which was rather nice.
Saturday, July 22
Looks like it must be M’s birthday.
Sunday, July 23
We had another party today with A who came down from Vancouver. This time there was cake!
E made a lemon meringue pie today, which is a fairly laborious process. Plus, she had to be especially careful because she was presenting the pie at a meeting of the LMPS–the Lemon Meringue Pie Society. It goes without saying that society members are experienced with all manner of pies. And they can be somewhat particular, especially about lemon meringue. More than one local baker has disappointed them in one respect or another. (And alas, their favorite bakery–Taylor Street Ovens–shut down a year ago.)
E’s first step was to look around for someone to make her a crust, as she really didn’t want to do that part. Fortunately M likes to make pie crust. (He always mixes up a little too much so he can eat some of it raw.) So M provided a shell and E took it from there.
Here’s a picture of the group just as the meeting was coming to order. From left to right: L, H, E, B and A. Sixth member T (aka N) took the picture.
We are happy to report that the pie was well received.
Friday, July 7
M has started writing a memoir about his childhood in Utah in the fifties and sixties. He also caught up on Season 3 of The Witcher.
Saturday, July 8
At 11:00 E took Spanish Pisto Manchego to her yoga class potluck. The potluck was a joyous occasion because it was the first time the group had gathered in person since the onset of the Pandemic. In fact some of the members had never seen each other in the flesh as the class started on ZOOM during the pandemic. We are all grateful to our teacher L for providing the class through thick and thin.
We had dinner with B and B at Ba’s in Albany. Before dinner we stopped off at their place for cocktails. They also gave us beets and a zucchini from their garden. And they’ve already harvested potatoes.
Sunday, July 9
Raspberry jam day! Berry season is upon us already. E got a flat and made two batches of jam. M has started reading an actual book from E’s book club: A Tale for the Time Being by Ruth Ozeki.
Monday, July 10
M had some dental work today and must have a soft diet for the next little while. E took a long walk in the forest and got a good recording of a Western Tanager. She really wishes she could spot one in the forest, as they are beautiful birds. But, alas, they are heard and not seen. Later she went out–and because she is an angel–she got M a chocolate shake from Burgerville. She also brought home a raspberry shake, which of course M couldn’t eat because of the seeds. E is certain that she hadn’t planned to get two shakes; somehow it just happened. She also pureed some leftover pisto for M.
Tuesday, July 11
E had another in-person Better Bones and Balance class. She says she likes the teacher very much in spite of the fact that the workouts are strenuous. M went for a long ride over Tombstone Pass in the Jaguar and also worked on arrangements for our trip to Boise and points south, which is coming up. We’ve had lovely weather this week.
Speaking of weather, E checked in with her niece J who lives in Vermont. J sent along these photos.
J lives on the top of a hill, so so she was above the flood…
…but all roads to town were blocked.
And then there was the matter of the poor turtle that took refuge in her driveway.
In the evening, E attended a meeting of the Knitting and Non-Knitting club made up of former ELI colleagues. E enjoyed catching up with people and doing a bit of work on her much neglected embroidery project.
Wednesday, July 12
We had coffee today with the daughter of our friends Rick and Gypsy, who both recently passed on within a year of one another. It was nice to hear about her doings. She has a son about to enter high school and twin daughters about to enter fifth grade.
Thursday, July 13
E had a medical appointment in Portland today. She is pursuing the dream of saying goodbye to the CPAP machine. The appointment went well and she found out more about an implant that can correct sleep apnea. It’s a multi-step process, however, and the big question is whether it would be covered by insurance. She now awaits follow up information from the medical provider. E thinks this was a very pleasant type of doctor visit: no clothing is removed, no pain involved and best of all, they don’t weigh you!
Friday, July 14
M had to rethink and rearrange some parts of our upcoming trip. Why now? At this late date? Could it be because he didn’t do it right the first time? Naw, that would be impossible…
Anyway we leave tomorrow, flying to Boise for some reason or other. We hope we remember what the reason is when we get there.
We went up to Salem today, about forty miles away. We had a couple of things in mind, one them being that there is a good Hyundai dealer in Salem and we’ve been wanting to take a look at the Hyundai Ioniq 5. E loves her current Mazda CX-5, but she has been thinking a lot about getting either an EV or a hybrid for environmental reasons. Mazda has just started making a very good new CX hybrid, but it is only available in Europe and Asia.
So we decided to at least take a look at an all electric car. The Ioniq 5 has gotten rave reviews: for fast charging, for its 300 mile range, and for a lot of convenience and safety features. It’s about the size of a CX-5, which is exactly the size E likes. So. There we were taking a test drive in a brand new one, and guess what? It was awesome. Tons of interior space, more than sufficient power, great handling, nice styling. Lots of reviewers say that it is clearly superior to the comparably sized Tesla, not that we have any plans to ever drive a Tesla, cuz we don’t.
Anyway, the Ioniq 5 is wonderful, and not super expensive. So are we going to buy one? Hmm. Probably not. It is impressive, but we both find that it lacks personality. Maybe an EV is just too different, too much for us to get used to. We’ll have to keep thinking.
Another thing that has been on our minds lately is cake. We thought we might have a piece of cake to celebrate Becca’s birthday. Becca is amazing, still just 22 years old even though she was born 48 years ago. That’s a while back, but people still remember her and people still reach out to E at this time of year, for which we are very grateful. So our excuse for going to Salem was to look at a car, but our actual reason for going to Salem was to have a little ceremony at the Konditorei, one of E’s favorite places in the world. She had a piece of lemon cream cake; M had German chocolate. Neither of us could eat it all, had to take some home.
Tuesday, June 27
We went walking today on the Meadow Edge Loop near the top of Mary’s Peak. We started out just after noon and made our first stop at the Vietnamese Baguette to procure some sandwiches. Man they were busy! On the way out of town we stopped for a roadside picnic at Starker Arts Park. Then we went out Highway 34 and turned off onto the road that leads up the mountain. The weather at the top was sunny and pleasant; it was considerably cooler at 3,400 feet than it was in lowland Corvallis.
Down in the valley the wild iris have come and gone. Here they are still looking nice.
Here are a couple of late violets. Their leaves are the largish round ones. Also visible are oxalis–the shamrocky things–and a couple of fern fronds that appear to be lying down for some reason.
There were lots of Boloria butterflies flitting around. This generation will soon be laying eggs, which will hatch out in a few months. The caterpillars will dine exclusively on violet leaves.
A view to the north.
A view to the west. The ocean is just beyond the far mountains. Being the highest peak around, Mary’s Peak is home to a lot of telecommunication equipment. Many have suggested that the various sheds and antennas ruin the view and should be removed. It has been decided, though, that they are important and must remain. But that only applies to reality. For a digital photo, they can be erased.
We have also been talking a bit more about what we would like to have in the way of cars…
Wednesday, June 28
E had lunch with her THEPAJ group at Gathering Together Farms. She had a teensy cup of carrot soup, two small pieces of bread, and a glass of water with no ice. (Now some people might be of the opinion that her actual meal was not of sufficient quantity to justify the use of the word lunch. But we are casual about such things, so we’ll let it go. Especially since she did buy 2 GTF chocolate covered spud nuts to be eaten later.–Ed.)
Here is the GTF restaurant and farmstand. Don’t let its looks fool you, GTF is a big operation these days. And those chocolate covered spudnuts are to die for.
M, meanwhile, went back up to Salem. Hmm. What was he up to? Whatever it was, he was gone half the day.
Thursday, June 29
E had a Better Bones and Balance class today and it was not via Zoom. M dropped her off at at the community college at 11:00. It was her first in-person exercise class since the pandemic and she liked it a lot. The teacher was excellent, but alas, she was just a sub and E won’t meet the real teacher until next week.
M picked E up after class and they headed off to Salem. As planned, M had brought small sandwiches and juice so that they could have lunch along the way. The sandwiches had to be small because we planned to visit Baskin-Robbins. While the Baskin-Robbins in Corvallis closed down during the pandemic and was replaced by a COVID test center in the same location, Salem has not just one, but four(!) active B-R’s.
But before we could get the ice cream, we had a more onerous errand to perform. We had to pick up the Jaguar. And once that was done, we had to choose which of the Salem B-R’s we were going to, get its address into our respective phones, and drive to it separately. By time we got there, we were sure we deserved a reward.
Friday, June 30
2014 F-Type
Lots of chores today related to the car: bluetooth pairing to M’s phone, driving position memory settings for both of us, radio presets for both, and the most challenging problem, the process for teaching the car about the codes for the garage door opener. When that was done, we rolled up our Afghani wool runner and threw it in the trunk. M got the rug in Yemen thirty years ago and by now it really needed fringe end repair. E decided we needed to take it to the Atiyeh Brothers rug shop in Eugene. (What a nice place that turned out to be!) So off we went in the new car, first to the rug place and then to dinner at a Thai place called Blu Mist Restaurant & Bar that E had tried once but M never had. It was wonderful.
M drove the forty miles down to Eugene; E drove us back home, her first time behind the wheel of the F-Type. E had really liked riding in M’s previous car, the blue Porsche, but she hadn’t enjoyed driving it very much because it had a manual transmission. She is a lot happier with the F-Type’s automatic.
Saturday, July 1
Eve went to see our friend Jo, who is recovering from shoulder surgery and cannot yet drive. They did some errands and took a walk in Willamette Park. While they were out, E looked for a birthday card for our neighbor who is turning 90 tomorrow. She wanted a “Happy 90th” card but had to settle for one 40th and one 50th. These she has cleverly combined into one card and has added a plus sign and an equals sign. Since the recipient is a retired math teacher, she is fairly confident that he will figure it out.
Sunday, July 2
We walked a bit this morning, before the heat. We went to a place we hadn’t been to before in an obscure corner of the OSU Arboretum. We walked a quarter mile nature trail and also visited a memorial to nine Oregon firefighters who died fighting a wild fire in Colorado almost exactly twenty-nine years ago. Lately someone has pinned poems to some of the wooden beams of the structure. The poems all deal with nature in one way or another and include works by William Stafford and Mary Oliver. They were a treat.
On the trail we heard a Swainson’s Thrush
In the afternoon we went to the aforementioned birthday party for our 90 year old neighbor and had a piece of cake. Wonderful way to spend a Sunday.
We started a 500 piece jigsaw puzzle yesterday and finished it today. Five hundred is a nice size. Those 1,000 piece puzzles are a lot of work. Plus they monopolize our dining room table for days and days.
Once it was together, we didn’t want to put it away immediately, but we were going to need our dining room table. E used a bread board to transfer the puzzle to this little table next to the couch. It’s doing well there.
Friday, June 16
E plans to make another paella for B and B, who are coming on Saturday. So today she spent some time doing parts of the meal that can be done in advance. She has also been working outside, her latest project being a major rehab of the bed on the east side of the house. She also is in charge of making war on the spider mites, which are bad this year.
M has been doing lots of yard work, especially in the back yard. The results are mixed–very mixed.
Right now the dominant color in this area comes from volunteer poppies. M dropped some seeds about five years ago in an entirely different part of the yard. One or two still grow there, but they’ve decided they like it here better.
M is also binge watching The Last Kingdom, a saga of Saxons vs. Vikings based on novels by Bernard Cornwell. He’s nearing the end of Season 4.
Saturday, June 18
We walked in the forest today, then later on had paella with with B and B. Very nice.
Sunday, June 19
We celebrated Fathers Day by cooperating on making a chocolate pie for M. Making chocolate pie around here is a complicated process. It goes like this. First M mixes up some dough for a pie shell. He has to make more dough than he needs because A) having extra allows for mistakes as he rolls it out and puts it into the pie pan, and B) he just has to eat some of it raw. (!) M bakes the shell and leaves it on the counter for E. E makes filling and puts it into the shell. She then makes meringue, spreads a not too thick layer onto the filling, and then bakes the pie to brown it. Then the pie has to cool. When it’s ready, M makes some whipped cream. To serve the pie, we cut a piece for M and a piece for E. M then removes the meringue from his piece and places it on top of the E’s piece, giving her a double layer of meringue. Then M spreads some whipped cream on his piece. It’s delicious. Everyone is pleased.
Monday, June 19
M went to the dentist. E concentrated on her next challenge: hosting tomorrow’s meeting of her book club. They will be discussing The Tea Girl of Hummingbird Lane, so clearly there must be tea. Also there will be Grandma Randall’s applesauce cake plus gluten free macaroons as needed. Also crackers and two kinds of cheese. Some club members will be here, and others will be Zooming. Very complicated.
One of the many themes in The Tea Girl of Hummingbird Lane concerns the experiences of a young woman who was born in China, placed in an orphanage, and then adopted by an American couple. This was at a time when there were large numbers of unwanted girl babies in China, many of whom were adopted by couples from other countries, chiefly in North America and Europe. As such girls grow to be teenagers in their new homes, issues of cultural identity complicate what is already a difficult time. E and M watched a documentary film that follows a number of adopted Chinese girls as they negotiate these years. It’s called Somewhere Between and was made by an American film maker who had just adopted a girl from China and wanted to learn whatever she could from the experience of others. It’s interesting.
Tuesday, June 20
The book club meeting day has arrived. As she is preparing, E finds that one of the small folding tables that she likes is unusable due to loose and missing hardware. Oh-oh. Finally she says “I don’t really need it.” Why would she say a thing like that? Well, possibly because she is confident that M–who has has a graduate degree in grammar and linguistics–will know what she really means: “The person I am talking to could probably fix this table. If so, he should do it right now.”
Once the table was fixed and other preparations made, E took some time to call Spain and talk to Manolo.
The book club meeting went fine. M stayed out of sight in the study watching The Last Kingdom. He is now in the middle of Season 5.
Wednesday, June 21
M finished removing grass and other weeds from the raspberry bed–an area that has been much neglected in recent years. E played orchard worker and climbed a ladder to thin apples from the tree closest to the house.
In the afternoon we walked over to H and T’s house to see how their remodeling project is going. The framing and drywalling are all done and painting is just beginning. H and T are a little frustrated by how long it is taking, but it is definitely progressing. After a tour, we had tea and sliced mangoes outside. It was a warm day, so their deeply shaded back yard was much appreciated.
Thursday, June 22
Tertulia with J and R at Coffee Culture. It’s time for the annual Chintimini Chamber Music Festival. J is a former board member and she and R often host some of the visiting musicians. This morning their house guest, Festival Music Director Erik Peterson, joined us for coffee and pastries.
Several times during the day, E received reminders about her appointment on Friday with a service provider who shall remain nameless. By the third reminder she was starting to get annoyed. More on this later.
Later on we had dinner with J and B at Tacovore. They’ve recently returned from a holiday in Portugal. They are part of group of about a dozen travelers who call themselves “El Grupo.” The core members of the group studied together in Costa Rica and have been traveling together ever since. In Portugal they were able to rent some lovely multi-room accommodations. Among other places, the group visited Aveiro, which is known as the Venice of Portugal. The gondolas of Venice have graceful designs, but they pale before the strikingly colored gondolas of Aveiro.
Friday, June 23
Just after breakfast, E went off to her 9:00 AM appointment with the provider who shall remain nameless. When she arrived, there was a light on inside but the office door was locked. Beside the door was a doorbell button. She pushed it several times but got no response. She got out her phone intending to call and ask if perhaps she had come to the wrong address. (Though this seemed pretty unlikely since they had given her this address three times the previous day). At this critical juncture, it turned out that her phone was not working! Yikes! What a mess. Luckily she was only five minutes from home and was able to go back and use M’s phone.
When this was finally sorted out, the explanation was simple. It was the correct address, but the staff had forgotten to unlock the front door for the day’s first appointment. Had they heard the bell? Oh no, they said, the bell had been disconnected some time ago because it was so annoying.
They were very apologetic and the actual appointment, when it finally came, went very well.
Saturday, June 24
We went to the nursery this morning and bought several zinnias and a small bunch of verbena. When we got home, E went right out and put them in the ground.
The verbena are pretty now; the new zinnias won’t flower till later.
We caught someone in the garden harvesting rhubarb next to a runaway ninebark bush…
NOTE: The following is a special (bonus) feature from the editors of Meandering On The Way. It gives a more complete account of M’s road trip to Idaho and Nevada. WARNING: If you are not interested in boondock camping and/or curious about that part of the world, this could bore you to tears. No one’s feelings will be hurt if you skip it.
Part 1: Thursday and Friday
Some online sources from Nevada say that the town of Jarbidge is one of the most remote and hard to get to places in the state. It’s way up near the Idaho border and it’s about as far from Las Vegas as you can get–in several senses. A Nevadan who wanted to visit Jarbidge would first go to Elko, which is in the northeast part of the state, and then go 106 miles farther north. The second half of the route is on gravel and they say that very last part is so rough that you need four wheel drive. Also the road is closed in the winter. People also say that the scenery along the way is spectacular; M wouldn’t know because he didn’t go in that way. He went in from Idaho, which is easier. If you start from Twin Falls, for example, the trip to Jarbidge is only 92 miles and there is a small town or two along the way. Much of that route is also on gravel, but the roads are mostly smooth and straight and do not require 4WD.
Which is fine if you live in Twin Falls, but say you live in Western Oregon. To access Jarbidge from Idaho, first you’d have to get to Idaho. The easiest way to do that is to take I-84, which begins in Portland, goes all the way across Oregon and half of Idaho, and passes right through Twin Falls. As we shall see, M didn’t quite do that, but he did start out that way. After dropping E off at the Portland airport, he drove the first 400 miles of I-84, stopping in the town of Ontario, Oregon, right on the Idaho border. It was a longish drive, but M didn’t really mind. He’d brought a lunch from home, which he ate in a neighborhood park in Pendleton. Once in Ontario he rested for the night in a motel and finalized his plans for the following day. His idea was to proceed into Idaho somewhat indirectly, traveling southeast, not by the easiest and fastest route but rather by the opposite of that. Just for variety.
After an unexpectedly awesome free breakfast at his motel (Clarion), M set off southward from Ontario on U.S 20/26, looking for the road to the Succor Creek State Recreation Area. He soon came to Nyssa, Oregon where he missed a turn, resulting in an embarrassing number of miles traveled in the wrong direction. He was in Homedale, Idaho before he figured this out. So the first challenge of the day was to navigate sideways across some Idaho farm country trying to somehow intersect with Oregon Hwy 201, which was the key to his finding the road to Succor Creek. He ended up traveling west on Idaho 19 until he re-crossed the border, at which point Idaho 19 magically turned into Oregon 201 and everything got easier. In the unlikely event that you find yourself looking for Succor Creek Road without bothering with a map or GPS, don’t forget to make that right turn at Nyssa. It’ll save you time.
Anyway, after 532 miles of pavement driving, M was finally onto a proper road. It was nice and wide at first but also dry and dusty. Quite dusty. M has a fiberglass shell on the Frontier and the seal between truck and shell is dust proof. But the truck bed itself is not sealed very well. In fact, pickup truck beds are specifically designed with the goal of making sure that water can get out of the bed. This means that there are actually large gaps around the tailgate.
When you drive much on dry gravel–and especially if you go very fast–a lot of dust can get sucked in through those gaps.
To address this problem, M had recently made a dust barrier. This consisted of a strip of foam left over from the truck bed mattress project combined with a wooden frame. This trip would be its first test.
When the tailgate is closed, the foam blocks the gaps. It worked great in M’s driveway, but that could be because there was no dust in the driveway..
M had forgotten, of course, to assemble the dust barrier before he left Ontario. So now he had to pull over and do it by the side of the road. But that was okay. It was kind of nice to have a reason to stop and take in the view.
When he stopped to put in the dust barrier, M got a first glimpse of Succor Creek as it passed through a cattle ranch.
A few miles farther on M stopped again. The road had diverged from the path of the creek, but he was pretty sure that he would see the creek again up there somewhere. The road was a little rougher here and the land looked drier and less productive. After this point he saw no more houses or other structures..
The terrain changed from flat to hilly. The road went only gently uphill, but the land on either side got higher. Soon M came to a sign announcing the Succor Creek Recreation Area. It was around there that the road reunited with the creek.
The gray line is Succor Creek Road. M was driving south, coming down from the top of this map.
As he got farther into it, M realized that the Succor Creek area was not quite what he had imagined. He’d been thinking of something isolated, with steep roads and a very small creek. He was thinking that it would be treeless, uncrowded, and lacking in any interesting rock formations. Why, he now asks, was he thinking that? Why didn’t he know exactly what it would look like? There are tons of Succor Creek photographs online and it would have been easy to find them. But M feels that he already has a lot of second hand information, way too much. What he needs are a few more dreams, simple ones that he can keep a handle on, and then some first hand information to go with them.
The reality of Succor Creek is that it was not all that isolated and that the creek was pretty good sized. Moreover, the official camping area had trees–not big ones but definitely trees. Similar trees were thick along the creek. And it was in a canyon, a sort of deep one.
The walls of the canyon were vertical on the east side…
…and steep on the west side. Also, there were rock formations.
M’s first order of business was to find a place to camp. Anticipating a possible Friday evening influx of other campers, he had arranged to arrive on a Friday morning. There were two sorts of places to camp: the official campground at one end of the canyon and a number of informal pull-offs at various places along the road. M went up to the campground to check it out first. It had eight sites arranged in a cramped circle around a waterless restroom building. As mentioned, there were a few trees to provide shade. The four best sites were already occupied. And since their occupants all had large campers or travel trailers, the area already seemed crowded. (Ha! Little did he know.) He turned around and went back down the road. Most of the pull-offs were still empty. M found a beautiful one, nicer than he’d expected. And by nice we mean that it was away from the road, had access to its own stretch of creek and provided some beautiful views. There were no trees where he parked, so he had to use the truck to make some shade.
The solar panels were very pleased with their sunny location and starting putting out watts with wild abandon.
There was a steep little side canyon close by and M thought maybe there would be some kind of trail up to the top. He started looking for such a route. But it was not to be. After huffing and puffing upward for a while and finally finding himself in a place that seemed too steep for safety, he gingerly made his way back down. After that he took his chair down to the stream and sat there for a while. Could a person who was sitting down there take off their shoes and cool their feet in the creek? Yes they could, but not for long. That water was cold. After a while M went back up to his campsite, set his chair down in the shade of the truck and spent some time watching the gray cliffs on the far side of the creek. The cliffs didn’t really do much and didn’t have much to say. They did communicate that they were there, that they were getting pretty old, and that despite their great age they still planned to be around a lot longer than M would be. Was the difficulty in making conversation due to the fact that the language of the cliffs was too primitive to express anything beyond the basics? Or was it because their language was just so different from M’s language that he couldn’t really understand it? Would Google Translate help? Naw, M was out of cell range. It seemed hopeless. Was it time for dinner yet? (For another take on the topic of communicating with the natural world, see this poem by Becky Hemsley. –Ed.)
In the middle of the night M had to get up and discovered that the moon was up too.
Finding Jarbidge – Part 2: Saturday
In the morning M wanted to get started early, as he had a long way to go. But just before he left, he took a few minutes to walk up the hill and take this picture, which shows the first leg of the day’s planned route.
It’s not easy to see, but from here the road follows the creek around to the right of that green pyramid thing. It then continues winding through the canyon, until finally climbing up onto the more open country above.
M had noticed the evening before that he had been right to have arrived early in the day. There’d been a lot of traffic on the road. And there was even more this morning. And when he passed by the campground, he found it transformed–jammed with a dozen vehicles, lots of tents and trailers and a whole bunch of people who seemed to be having a grand time. On the other hand, that was the end of the inhabited area of Succor Creek. For the next hour of his drive south M didn’t see anybody.
Just past the campground Succor Creek Road again parts ways with Succor Creek. The creek stays down low while the road climbs up the west slope to reach the more or less flat country near the canyon rim. Here’s a view back down into the canyon after M had gotten up out of it.
The high country was flatter and was covered in a mixture of sagebrush and grass.
M passed a small herd of horses and got two of them to pose.
The road onward looked pretty empty, but M knew it went somewhere. Sure enough, after a while he started to see ranches again. Another sign of human presence was a giant parking area for some kind of high desert equestrian jamboree. He saw nothing of the actual event, just a fenced field that had been turned into a parking lot for pick-ups. There were twenty or thirty of those, each one hooked up to a horse trailer. There wasn’t a soul in sight. Where were the horses and their riders? Off having fun somewhere, but where exactly and what kind of fun was a mystery.
Soon there were more farms and ranches. You wouldn’t call the area densely populated–no one’s nearest neighbor was closer than three quarters of a mile–but there were enough families around to have an active school.
Rockville School
This being a Saturday, the school was closed. (Our editor wants to know why they weren’t having graduation this weekend.)
Next came a major waypoint in M’s plan to get to Jarbidge by indirect means. (You’ll remember that Jarbidge is in Nevada, but first he had to get to Idaho, and here he was still in Oregon. As far as indirectness goes, he was doing pretty well. But that couldn’t last forever.) Not many miles past the school, Succor Creek Road ended at an intersection with U.S. Highway 95. At mile 571 of his journey he was going back onto pavement. He turned right and headed south, looking to get back off pavement as soon as possible. Seven miles later, there it was: Cow Creek Road. Or was it De Lamar Road? M’s sources disagreed. Never mind, it was headed in the right direction. He happily turned left and was on the gravel again. Not only that, he was in Idaho! (Not that there was any sign, but that’s what the map said.)
Cow Creek Road led southeast up a pretty little valley with a creek running down the middle. The landscape was treeless, but there was verdant new grass in the pastureland nearest the creek…
…and a carpet of yellow flowers off in the distance.
M counted four widely separated ranch houses along the creek. His wasn’t the only vehicle on the road; there was a white sedan poking along ahead of him. Eventually it turned off down the half mile long ‘driveway’ of the third ranch.
A few miles past the fourth house, things changed a little. The road was still following the creek, but the terrain was a little more hilly and the land on either side of the creek was drier. That was also the area where the people who made the road had decided that it needed to cross the creek, not once but twice. On the day M was there the fords looked like this:
This is actually the second ford, the first had been identical in shape but a little larger.
M had never seen fords like this and at the first crossing he had to stop and get out and study it a little. He was, after all, out there all by himself, with no chase car to pull him out if he got stuck. As it turned out, these were nicely made crossings, with a firm, smooth bottom that wasn’t as far under the surface of the water as it first appeared. Off we go.
In the next few miles the terrain started getting steeper and trees began to appear. M came to a junction with another road that came in from the southwest. The two roads merged and headed east into the mountains. There was a sign there stating that the road was not maintained and that if anyone who used it required search and rescue, that person should be prepared to bear the entire cost. That was okay with M, especially on a clear day in lovely weather. In fact, it’s a pretty good policy, probably too good to last. In the future, when the world has finished going to hell in a hand basket, the road will have been technologically enhanced. There will be an entry gate which automatically locks your vehicle into self-driving mode. They’ll tell us it’s safer.
As it was, M drove himself up into the mountains. The road got narrower and rougher, but still not too bad. Eventually he came to the site of an old mine. It appeared that at some point people had lived near the mine and there were several vintage homes just across the creek from it:
This one was nice…
…but you’d have to call this a fixer upper.
A short distance past the mine M passed some buildings that had definite signs of being inhabited, at least in the summer. It was pretty quiet and although M didn’t actually see anyone, someone was probably there. The road got worse past this point. It wasn’t steep but it was very narrow and there was little or no gravel, just natural rocks and dirt. There were big brown puddles of recent snow melt whenever you came to a flat part. Since there were no big washouts, it was easily passable, as long as you kept it slow. There was nice scenery to be had on either side, but M couldn’t take his eyes off the road much to enjoy it. Still, he was having a pretty good time, picking his way along, pleased that there was no other traffic. And then, of course, suddenly there was other traffic, a white pick-up truck heading straight toward him. It was a full-sized truck and even though M’s truck was smaller, it was hard to see how the two vehicles were going to get past each other. To M’s right was a steep drop into the river and on the left there was an equally steep slope upward. The oncoming driver found a place where the road was slightly wider, pulled over as much as he could, and paused, which was nice for him because he was on the upslope side and M was the one who was going to roll down into the creek if it all went bad. But it actually went fine. M crept slowly ahead, not quite sure about that right edge, just making sure he was as close as possible to the other truck on his left. There was about an inch of clearance between their respective side mirrors as he went past.
Later on there were two more oncoming vehicles, but he met both of those on less stressful parts of the road. And then, by golly, a big blue pickup appeared behind him! Geez, that made four cars over the course of less than an hour. Somehow he had gotten caught in rush hour traffic on the road to Silver City.
M knew he was on a road that led to Silver City because he had seen those words next to a dot on his map. He was decidedly not prepared for what he found when he finally got there. It turns out that Silver City is a booming tourist attraction, a ghost town whose body has been reanimated and repurposed from silver mining to 21st Century fun times in the mountains. (For photos of the town and details about its history, click here.) Late spring/early summer is high season for visitors to Silver City and on the Saturday that M came through there were hundreds of them. It was chaos, with dozens of vehicles trying to navigate through narrow dirt streets with more potholes than you can imagine. There were some hand-lettered signs saying that the speed limit was ten miles per hour. But with all the potholes and all the kids and their associated grownups running around it was best to go even slower than that.
There are about seventy structures in the town, all over a hundred years old. Silver City began as a mining boomtown in the 1860’s and prospered up until 1900, when it began its decline. By 1940 the one-time population of thousands had shrunk down to just one person, who proudly self identified as both mayor and fire marshal. The reanimation of the ghost town began in the early 1970’s, when someone reopened an old hotel. Although the land is managed by the Bureau of Land Management, all of the structures are privately owned, often by descendants of the original miners.
All M wanted to do was find his way through the mess. It took him a few minutes, but he did finally find a way out. Silver City is situated right at the pass, so he soon found himself descending the eastern side of the Owyhees. The road down into Idaho was wider and smoother than the one he had just come up from Oregon. There was also way more traffic. Besides cars and trucks, there were dozens of roaring OHV’s and dirt bikes. But the route also offered some beautiful views, which he was able to enjoy when he found a likely place to pull off and have lunch.
The rest of his day’s drive was uneventful. The road–now named Silver City Road–led down out of the mountains and into flatter country. At mile 626 of his trip the gravel surface ended and pavement returned. Ten miles later he had reacquired cell service. He told his phone to direct him to Mountain Home, Idaho, a largish town where he planned to spend another night in a motel.
What about Jarbidge? you may ask. Well, getting to Jarbidge from Mountain Home isn’t quite as easy as getting there from Twin Falls, but it’s close.
Finding Jarbidge – Part 3: Sunday and Monday
If M had actually been in Twin Falls, getting to Jarbidge would have been simple. He would have taken U.S. 93 south down to Rogerson, Idaho, then turned off the highway onto Three Creeks Road, then taken the third left onto 1520 N Road, which is also Three Creek Road. (Okay, that’s mildly complicated.) Anyway, Three Creeks Road is the key to finding Jarbidge from the Idaho side. It gets you within fifteen miles of the actual place.
Here’s Rogerson, just about all of it. M is sorry he missed it. That’s U.S. 93 in the lower right. Three Creeks Road is the street leading out to the west in the upper left.
Being in Mountain Home made finding Three Creeks Road a little more complicated, but M just did what Siri told him to do. The drive took three and a half hours to go just 150 miles. It was a mix of gravel and pavement. The first half was through farmland, most of it dead flat. Then came sagebrush country that had a few more hills. And then at the very end, just before the Jarbidge turn-off, M had a glimpse of more rugged country.
A view from Three Creek Road, about 17 miles from Jarbidge and just a few miles north of the Nevada Idaho border.
The last place in Idaho that M came to is called Murphy Hot Springs. Beyond that the road to Jarbidge got much worse. It was wide enough not to be scary and it wasn’t steep or muddy, but it was seriously bumpy. Nice scenery, though.
After ten or so miles of very slow going over the bumps, suddenly the road got wider and smoother. Though no human beings appeared, signs of human habitation were abundant. Eventually, there it was, the Jarbidge main drag.
On the left: the Outdoor Inn promises Booze, Grub and Rooms. On the right: the Red Dog Saloon offers drinks and food only.
The most active looking business on this day was the general store. M bought a Jarbidge hat.
Next to the store, the old Jarbidge jail, with possibly the world’s strangest looking sheriff.
Given that the prisoner looks pretty well dead, are the ball and chain really necessary? On the other hand, no one wants him running around in this condition.
After visiting the Trading Post and touring the jail, M drove out of town and starting looking for a place to camp. He found that there were several campgrounds in the area, all of them pretty basic, all of them a ways out of town, and all of them empty of campers. As he was driving around to check them all out…it started to rain. Around this time, he passed the spot where the Pine Creek West Fork flows into the Jarbidge River. Both streams were running high and it was quite a sight.
The rain stopped after half an hour. The clouds turned from gray to white and broke apart so that some blue was showing. There was even a little sunshine. Hmm, said M, who was not eager to camp in the rain. Now maybe this was just one passing storm–or maybe not. He took a little walk up the road and saw an abandoned mine up on the hillside that would be great to explore and maybe take pictures of. But just then the sky began to darken, in a rather serious way. M turned around and headed back to the truck. The rain started just a minute or two before he got there. The sky was all dark and showed no sign that the rain would be stopping very soon. “Okay,” said M after fifteen or twenty minutes, “I’ve seen Jarbidge. And now I’m leaving and going back to that motel in Mountain Home.” It was around 3:30 in the afternoon and it was another three and a half hour drive back to MH, but it could be done. He headed back to Idaho. As he made his way north again, along that ten miles of really bumpy road, the rain continued with no sign of slacking. Even in the rain the scenery was pretty nice.
M later thought that he probably should have just got a room at the Outdoor Inn, and some booze and grub to go with it. But if he had, he would have missed a rather spectacular drive back across Idaho. Once he got out of the canyons and hills and back onto the seemingly endless flatlands, he saw that there were thunderstorms scattered all over the place. At any given time he could see two or three of them: off to the right, off to the left, ahead or behind. Each storm featured its own dark clouds, thin streaks of lightening and dark curtains of rain. For a while the roads he was on were dry or just faintly damp. Then suddenly he came upon a minor flood and saw that the next twenty yards of road were covered with two or three inches of water. He slowed down as quickly as he could, but still made some quite spectacular splashes as the truck pushed through. It is more comfortable, of course, to travel through flood waters sedately, which he then proceeded to do. Though he could still see several thunderstorms in the distance, there was no sign of the one that had dropped these particular waters.
Later on, as seems inevitable, his route intersected with the path of one of the storms that he had admired so much from a distance. Oh what violence can be sown from drops of water and molecules of air! M survived this and reached his motel at around 7:00, not too much the worse for wear, but disappointed not to be camping.
On Monday M started for home, 556 miles away. With no need to get back immediately, he planned to stop for the night along the way. He was still owed a night of camping under the stars. He drove away from Mountain Home on I-84, passed through Boise, stopped in Nampa for gas, and crossed into Oregon at Ontario. He then got off the freeway and onto U.S. 26. Two hundred miles later he reached the Ochocos where he started looking for a place to camp. There’s a nice campground at Ochoco Summit, but alas he found he couldn’t afford to stay there. It was a self service place where you choose a spot, fill out a form, and then drop an envelope of cash into a slot. With a senior discount the cost was only $10, but M couldn’t swing it–all he had was a fifty and a five. So instead he got went back to the highway and found a nearby Forest Service road that led up the side of a mountain called Dixie Dome. Plenty of places to camp up there and no other campers at all. Plus, it wasn’t raining. Also, zero other traffic.
Talk about difficult conditions, M had to make breakfast with just this much maple syrup.
After a mountainside breakfast of bacon and pancakes, M found his way back down to the highway and headed for home. Luckily, this final leg of his journey took him right past the Sisters Bakery, where he used a credit card to obtain a chocolate donut and a marionberry scone. He got back to Corvallis in the early afternoon, after a journey of 1,509 miles.
He had found Jarbidge but hadn’t explored it properly. He’ll have to go back.
Warm dry weather these days. The ground has dried out and we’ve had to start watering some things. Our new lilac is in the ground and we have high hopes, as one always does at first. To make room for it, M removed a very large cut-leaf blackberry (Rubus lacianatos) that came with us from our previous house by stowing away in one of E’s outdoor pots. It was just a six inch sprig when it got here and M found it kind of cute, so he planted it. It grew into a monster, with super abundant berries and lots of thorns. Sadly, the berries were hugely seedy and did not make good pie. The Himalayan blackberry (Rubus armeniacus) is also common here. Both were originally brought here by early European-American settlers. The first wave of settlers brought the cut-leaf blackberry and later on came the Himalayan, which was considered to be a great improvement. By now, of course, breeders have created varieties that are superior to either. The old species linger on, though, because they’re tough and they like it here. We fear that we will have annoying seedlings in our yard pretty much forever.
Tuesday, May 23
Replaced the old range hood with a microwave. Finally.
Wednesday, May 24
We made a trip up to the big city today–Portlandia. We got there around 2:00 and went first to the Oregon Historical Society Museum. Here we got to see a pair of Fort Rock Sandals. The sandals are about 9,000 years old and were made from sage brush bark. Dozens of such sandals were found inside a cave in 1938 by Luther Cressman, a University of Oregon anthropologist.
The sandals were preserved under a layer of ash created by the eruption of Mt. Mazama, an ancient volcano whose crater is now holds Crater Lake.
We also saw a traveling exhibition about comedian Bob Hope that focused on his work with the USO in the Second World War. There was a short film and a host of photos and artifacts, including a suitcase that Hope used during the war. Hope performed about 150 USO shows during the war, working in both the European and Pacific theaters. Among the documents was a letter from a 19-year-old soldier in the Pacific whose unit was stationed on a remote island in the Pacific while in training for a secret mission. He wrote to his mother about much he hated it there and how much seeing Hope’s show had meant to him. A short time later the soldiers embarked on their mission, in the course of which 45% of the unit died, including the letter writer. On display is a letter written by the soldier’s mother thanking Hope for giving the boy a few hours of happiness before his life came to an end.
Before dinner we checked into the Heathman Hotel. Since May 25th is our anniversary we went next to a celebratory dinner. A&A had told us about a restaurant called Elements in Vancouver (WA). They said it was wonderful, as indeed it was. We ordered a crab and artichoke ‘fondue’ as an appetizer. It was delicious but awfully heavy. Will we ever learn not to do that? E followed that with a dish called watermelon steak, which was made from pickled watermelon served with farro, corn, shimeji mushrooms, tamarind barbecue sauce, and micro greens. It looked like this. E loved it.
Thursday, May 25
After a nice Heathman breakfast, we checked out and headed south toward Corvallis. But we didn’t go straight home…oh no. Because just south of Portland there is a shopping center and in that shopping center is E’s favorite shoe store. We stopped and E went in to see if she could find anything. She could.
Friday, May 26
Lots of yard work, errands and appointments today followed by another great meal, this time with J and R at Sybaris in Albany.
Monday, May 29
Our minds are on our respective travel plans. E is going to Buffalo to help celebrate her grand nephew’s high school graduation. She has already started to pack. M is going camping somewhere in the ‘three corners’ area, where the borders of Idaho, Nevada and Oregon meet at a nearly inaccessible spot in the Owyhee Desert. He’s still working on planning his route. Both of us are leaving on Thursday.
Tuesday, May 30
Needing exercise, we decided to take a longer walk than usual. We went to the OSU Forest and hiked the old Section 36 Loop. It was a good day to hike, cloudy and a little cool. There were still flowers to be seen…and also a lovely giant moth motionless on the ground in the middle of the trail.
R had told us that there were lots of wild iris this year. It was great to see some of them for ourselves.
Iris may be relatively abundant, but these little orange trumpets are rarer.
And here’s the moth, motionless and possibly lifeless.
Thursday, June 1
Finally it was travel day. M loaded up the truck with his camping stuff, but left enough space for E’s luggage as well. We left Corvallis at 7:30, heading for the Portland Airport. By 9:30 we were at the departure area saying our goodbyes. M then pointed himself toward Ontario, Oregon, about 375 miles away. Before she could get started, E had an appointment to meet A in the departures hall. This was so that she could take charge of a certain special item that needed to be delivered to someone in the east. Once that was done, she found her way to the plane that would start her trip to Buffalo, New York.
Friday, June 2
E attended grandnephew Henry’s graduation ceremony and the ensueing party. Congratulations Henry! Almost 100 years ago his great uncle, also named Henry Chambers, graduated from his high school in Cohoes, NY. In honor of the two Henrys, E had brought along a few old pictures of the first Henry and a copy of the program from that long ago graduation ceremony.
Back in Oregon, M left Ontario heading south, looking for the road to Succor Creek Recreation Area. But at Nyssa, Oregon he missed a turn–as he realized later–and soon found himself in Idaho amidst vast fields of sugar beets and onions. Once he realized this, he plotted a zigzag course over to where he thought he needed to be. During one of these zigs, he came upon a very large, concrete lined holding pond surrounded by chain link fence. A sign on the fence said “Dixie Drain Phosphorous Recovery Project.” With a name like that, you just know we’re going to have look it up and figure out what it was.
So the Dixie Drain is a canal. It was made over a hundred years ago to collect water run-off from a large area of farmland south of Boise, Idaho. The canal collects excess irrigation water and storm run-off. The canal eventually dumps the excess water back into the Boise River. The problem is that the run-off contains large amounts of sediment, nutrients, and other pollutants. The chief problem is phosphorous, which boosts algae production and leads to super blooms and damaged river ecosystems. Perhaps our farmers should consider reducing the amount of chemical fertilizer used on our fields. Ha-ha, just kidding. So how about a project to remove phosphorous from run-off just before it feeds into a river? That’s the idea here. When running at full capacity, the Dixie Drain facility can treat up to 130 million gallons of run-off per day, removing more than 140 pounds of phosphorus in the process. You never know what you’re going to find if you make a wrong turn…
But of course a wrong turn also needs to be righted. Five or ten miles from the Drain, M crossed back into Oregon found the turnoff for Succor Creek. Naturally, it was a gravel road and it seemed to lead off into an entirely different sort of landscape. Not much food growing out there, but not much extra phosphorous lying around either.
M had to drive 534 miles on pavement to get here, but finally he has found the right kind of road: bumpy, noisy, dusty and empty.
A few hours later he had found Succor Creek Canyon and picked out a camping spot.
M put out the solar panels to do their thing and made a shady place for himself to sit…
…but it was also nice down by the creek.
Night of Friday/Saturday, June 2/3
Saturday, June 3
About the time that M was waking up on Succor Creek, E was seeing the sights of Niagara Falls, where her nephews took her for a visit. She hadn’t been to the Falls for a while, not since she and M visited some twenty years ago. She reports that the American side of the falls, which used to be rundown and depressing, has been transformed and is now quite lovely. And you can still take a cruise on the Maid of the Mist and they still give you a free raincoat to keep you dry. The difference is that the Maid is now an electrically powered vessel piloted by a female captain.
E’s photo of the Whirlpool on the Niagara River, which is unlikely to be mistaken for Succor Creek.
Later in the day E was treated to a ride with the graduate in his immaculate 1983 Cadillac, a gas guzzling but powerful and smooth running ride.
A couple thousand miles to the west, M made a breakfast of bacon and pancakes and then immediately packed up for departure. He had big plans for the day’s driving adventure. But he also needed exercise, so right before leaving, he hiked up a nearby slope to take in the view.
M wasn’t going back out the way he came in. Instead he planned to continue up the canyon in the direction you see here.
M’s plan for the day was to travel from travel south for a bit and then head east and cross the Owyhee Mountains into Idaho. These mountain roads were primitive and–as the map notation put it–they were “not maintained in winter.” But winter was quite a ways back, technically at least, so the plan had a certain plausibility. Once on the other side of the mountains he could expect to find ranching and farming country with actual paved roads that would take him to Mountain Home, Idaho, where he planned to spend the night in a motel.
The first step was to follow Succor Creek Road as it climbed up the west slope of the canyon to reach the open country above. Once up out of the canyon, things looked very different.
Succor Creek is down there somewhere, but the road has climbed up to the top of the west rim.
Here’s the view looking west in the same area.
M continued south for some miles and eventually the sagebrush gave way (at least partially) to pastureland. The ranches were few and far between, but there were enough folks around to have an active school.
The Rockville School
M was still headed south when he passed the school, but half an hour later he had turned east onto Cow Creek Road heading toward the mountains. In the first ten miles he passed through three ranches and had to ford Cow Creek two different times. Fortunately the people who made the ford knew what they were doing and there was a firm layer of relatively smooth gravel on the bottom. Also the water wasn’t (quite) as deep as it first seemed.
We know it looks like a pond, but it’s actually a ford, one easily passable for trucks and tractors in this late spring season.
Past the three ranches the road led higher into the mountains. In that area M passed some evidence of old mining activity…
Later on he passed through the town on Silver City, which is even higher up in the Owyhees. It was a very lively place on this first Saturday in June, but a little weird and M did not linger. (For more details and photos about M’s crossing of the Owyhees, please see our upcoming post “Finding Jarbidge.”)
Sunday, June 4
For E, today’s adventure was to take the train from Buffalo, NY to Amsterdam, NY, a scenic and pleasant trip of about five hours.
Here’s a photo of a train station somewhere in New York. Can we guess what town?
Bonus points for guessing whose luggage stands abandoned in the background.
M’s daily adventure was to spend four hours driving from Mountain Home, Idaho to Jarbidge, Nevada, where he had planned to camp, but then getting rained out. Details in “Finding Jarbidge”
Monday, June 5
E spent the day in Glen’s Falls, NY. She is staying at her usual B&B there, which is operated by a certain Mrs. H–when she is not busy running the food pantry or making cookies and cakes and things. E and Mrs. H were also joined by S, another long time friend whose arrival made the party complete.
Meanwhile, it was time for M to turn toward home. Corvallis was 556 miles away and he had no need to make it all in one go. Instead he drove just 315 miles and found himself a place to camp in Oregon near Ochoco Summit.
In the depths of the night M listened to the near continuous call of a common poorwill. A western relative of the eastern whip-poor-will, the common poorwill is the only bird known to enter into a state of torpor (a.k.a. hibernation). Meriwether Lewis observed a hibernating poorwill in 1804 and recorded the event in his journal, but no one paid much attention. John James Audubon rediscovered the poorwill in 1844 and give it a name. For the Hopi people, of course, it already had a name. They live within the southernmost part of the poorwill’s range, and their name for it is hölchko, which means “The Sleeping One.”
Tuesday, June 6
Parked on the side of a mountain called ‘Dixie Dome,’ M woke early with a red sun shining in his eyes. He took this as a sign that he should go back to sleep. That didn’t last long though, and pretty soon he was up having breakfast before driving the last 200 miles back home.
E, Mrs. H and S spent most of the day laughing, only stopping long enough to take a lovely stroll along the banks of the Hudson River, where they spotted an albino robin.
Wednesday, June 7
E and Mrs. H went to Hulets’ Landing on Lake George to visit E’s brother J in his lovely hermitage. He treated them to a tour of the cabin and environs followed by a delicious luncheon, not to mention a lakeside recitation of “The Lake Isle of Innisfree.”
Thursday, June 8
E’s flight from Detroit was a little early. M faced long construction delays getting to Portland, and when he got to the airport the traffic was horrendous. Around 10:00 PM the pair were at last reunited. Importantly, M had stocked the vehicle with refreshments in the form of cool clear water and little capsules of Dove chocolate.
