Occupation of Independence

 If I wasn't familiar with this hill, the highway sign would have been alarming:  They even had a third warning, a half mile later!  But the risk was over-stated.  Real risk needs a nasty surprise and I almost got one, a few days later: I didn't see this vertical drain hole (and tire trap) when I drove in, pulling my trailer.  By sheer dumb luck, I missed it.   Imagine the embarrassing discussion with the tow truck driver that could have happened later in the day: "What were you thinking, mister?  Didn't you even see the hole?" Actually I was more concerned about the high winds on this half-bare ridgeline, and the upcoming weather forecast.  There were a lot of blow-downs in the area. And yet, the high altitude, high winds, and isolation were exciting, probably because Book Bub had told me of a discount on Lawrence Bergreen's "Columbus: The Four Voyages."  There is nothing like reading the right book at the right time and place.  T...

 If you live long enough, you'll have a chance to experience anything, no matter how ridiculous.  Getting excited about buying clothes seems about as silly as you can get.  But it actually happened. I bought an excellent windproof, hooded shell in a thrift store, the other day.  I have always admired people who come out of thrift stores with their trophy-like bargains.  But you have to tolerate disorganized clutter, and I don't.  Since I bought an over-sized windshell, it came down long, almost to the mid-thigh. And the arms were long, too.  I love jackets like that. Recently an expensive bicycle jacket wore out at the zipper.  It was probably 8 years old.  I didn't think those narrow zippers would last more than one year.  But I felt inspired to get completely away from over-priced bicycle clothing.  After all, the fabric is just common nylon or polyester, made in some fabric mill in east Asia that makes square light-years of the s...

 It doesn't feel natural or desirable to start off on a walk by going downhill, but that was what we had to get used to, at our current campsite in eastern Oregon.  But I stopped dead in my tracks when I heard some loud and strange animal noises. Some You Tube videos clarified things: I was hearing the plaintive mating calls of rutting elks.  They sounded so close!  And every 30 seconds!  I have never heard so many 'bugles' by elks in my life.  The bugling is so high-pitched, it is hard to believe it comes from an 800 pound beast! There were so many bugles going off in my neighborhood that it was almost funny.  If an elk cow can't find a willing bull in this area, she just isn't trying very hard.

 No more embarrassment and no more apologies for becoming completely satisfied and content when I get certain things.  The other day I experienced a strange kind of chiaroscuro, of violently contrasting bright blue sky and lush, liquid green.  Eastern Oregon was being good at what it does.  If you live in a part of the world that has real trees and grass and soil, you just can't appreciate this: Yes, I can still remember mowing green grass when I was young.  It was wet and smelly sometimes.  I am so fortunate to be able to flutter my eyelashes over trees that actually have leaves.  This is a pin oak, perhaps?: As if these things are not miraculous enough, the city park also had a spirited river running through it: I laughed when I saw these thistles: There was a time in life when these would have seemed fierce to me.  Nowadays, I could chop 'em up, put 'em in a salad, and throw on a little salad dressing.  These softies in the Northwest don't...