Everything I Tell you is Hearsay

i’m trying something new lately; when i am sad, instead of lying in my bed and praying for sleep, i actually get up and go spend time with people who like me. it’s revolutionary, i know.

to that end, i went out last night with my friend emma. we had a lovely meal at Wild Abandon (which is one of my favorite restaurants, but i always forget about it) and then tried to go see Up In The Air at the fancy theater in Vantucky for which i happen to have a gift card. it hadnt really dawned on either of us that it might sell out, but, of coruse, it did. so. we scooted back to the right side of the river and had some consolation cocktails at the Virginia Cafe. were very pleastantly surprised by the bill once we’d finished; apparently happy hour lasts most of the day on saturday at the VC.

so, movie time came and we decided on The Fantastic Mr Fox, about which i knew nothing, but emma had heard good things. it was a delightful surprise and i thouroughly enjoyed it.

mounted by the venerable Wes Anderson and his usual cast of characters (plus goerge clooney and meryl streep ftw) this story adapted from a Roald Dahl book was charming and sweet and funny and visually engaging.

being a fervent fan of The Royal Tenenbaums, i have a bit of a tendency to get very excited about any new Anderson offering. as such, i’m sort of pleased i had no idea what i was in for. having had no expectations, i was simply delighted by the film without reservation.

it is very much a typical Wes Andersen offering, but in no way the less for that. definitely hodie friendly, it was enjoyable and disarming, a pleasure to watch and a genuine treat.

emma liked it too.

recommended.

didnt turn out like i planned.

first i kinda randomly…

hacked all my hair off

went to seattle

saw an amazing sunset

went to ikea

experienced intense coveting of this bed

then got smacked with the sick stick, like hard.

i only drink tea in times of desperation

i couldnt face the idea of an evening spent at the ER, so i’ll be going in the morning. but, generally, boo. episodes of gossip girl and chicken soup delivery nothwithstanding…

even though i never had one myself. turns out, a large portion of the state was on fire…

Re: OR-WIF-Tumblebug Complex

---

518 acres, 10% contained.

Tanker 00 committed out of Missoula @ 1345 today to this fire.

A Type 2 Incident Management Teanm will take over today. Expanded road and area closures were put into effect yesterday for a large area around the biggest fires in the complex. Complete information about the road closures and area closure can be obtained by calling the Middle Fork Ranger Station at 541-782-2283

so. i decided, sort of on a whim, that i was going to get the fuck out of town this last weekend. in service of this, i borrowed a car, loaded all the usual crap into it, and headed for Crater Lake. this wasn’t in itself a bad plan. the weather was beautiful and i like driving, so i decided to make the most of my trip and see what i could manage to enjoy along the way.

i bought this book some years ago called “Hiking the Hot Springs of the Pacific Northwest” and have proceeded to never actually use the thing. this trip seemed like a good time to remedy that. i looked at the book, my trusty Benchmark atlas and decided on the Wall Creek Warm Springs.

about 50 miles east of Eugene stands the quaint and charming townlet of Oakridge. the drive through the Willamette National Forest was just beautiful. winding, and lake strewn, the route was still fully green, but the hints of yellow and orange in the trees are beginning to show themselves

i have a strange obsession with taking pictures of signage

i would say this was one of the more enjoyable scenic drives i have ever been on. it wasnt dramatic, or breathtaking, but it was lovely and serene. lots of trees. i liked it.

the guidebook was pretty specific and gave excellent directions to the spring itself. i was vaguely worried that on a lovely friday evening such as the one i arrived upon, there might be stiff competition for the soak. turns out; not another soul there.

me and my feet go the best places together

it was labeled as a “warm spring” and this was a pretty accurate protrayal. it was better than tepid, but only just. on the plus side it did not stink of sulfur or tarnish my silver. i sat in the soak and read George Carlin. good times.

by now i was pretty hungry so i decided to roll myself back into town and see what was on for eats. this hamlet seemed to have a few likely options; the local brewpub or the slightly ramshackle divey place. it came down to whether i wanted sesame seeds and thousand island on my burger or pepper jack and a cibatta. on this occasion, froof prevailed.

this was the most delicious cider i have ever consumed

dinner was tasty, though as usual, there was too much of it. i was feeling kinda aimless at this point, since i had orginally toyed with the idea of going to Ashland to see a show but it had now become too late in the evening to reasonably expect to arrive before curtain. with no other concrete plans i just got back in the car and started making my way eastish.

i had been hearing for some time about the fire; on the radio they were keeping pretty close track of it. and i could sense it in that suddenly my inhaler seemed like my new best friend. but it wasnt until i started heading east from Oakridge that i really started to see any evidence of it for myself.

o'er the misty mountains...

i started to notice a distinct haze in the air and could smell the smoke as well. it was not an unpleasant aroma; it was the smell of camping. i had long since abandoned any hope of my own campfire; smokey the bear was practically foaming at the mouth and all the signs were red with their EXTREME FIRE DANGER placards up. so at least i got to enjoy the ambiance anyway, right?

my reasoning hereafter was, “what the hell is the point of getting a campsite if i cant have a fire anyway?” as such, i folded down the seats in the ‘Ru unfolded my futon and “camped” at a rest stop somewhere along hwy 97. yes, i know, devestatingly romantic.

i woke up at a not-ungodly-early hour the next day and scooted the rest of the way over to Crater Lake National Park (North Entrance)

see? like i said? with the signs?

to my surpise and pleasure i had managed to show up on some kind of magical “taxpayer headpat freebee” day so i didn’t have to cough up $15 to get into the park. neat! the kindly ranger in her silly hat handed me a little map-y doo-hickey and i was on my way.

smooooooke on the waaaah-ter

it was especially hazy this morning, and she warned me that visibility wasn’t going to be fantastic with all the smoke. i determined pretty quickly that i wasnt going to be content looking at the lake from the rim and needed to get down to the shore. i didnt want to go on the boat ride (who the hell decided to call it “Wizard Island”? was this national park founded by Renn Faire dorks or what?) but i wanted to put my feet in the water at the very least. i’d brought my suit thinking i might take a dip but my handy dandy map-y doo hickey alerted me to the fact that the lake stays a constant 38° and i did not bring my hypothermia hat, so i decided to pass on that idea.

there’s only one place on the whole lake that you are allowed to be on the shore. Cleetwood Cove involves a fairly steep trail; it’s a little over a mile, but has a considerable elevation change of 700 feet. this is the only way to reach the water’s edge and what is, to my mind anyway, all-too-generously called a “boat dock.”  i think i’d have been more inclined to say “canoe hitch” but i digress…

no, i do not feel the least bit silly or self-conscious dashing in front of my camera for this"candid" photo!

once i made it down to the shore i was gratified to see the water was every bit as unbelievably blue as anyone had ever suggested it was. but apart from admiring said blueness, there wasn’t much else to do.

yes, this water is sufficiently blue for me. i think i'm done here...

i did, i will admit sit down and get my hands wet. i didnt want to take off my shoes though because every surface was covered in soft grey ash, and i didnt want getting wet to turn me into a crusty ashey mess. i am a wuss. i did also pull out my tarot cards and find that i am isolating myself too much. sheesh, you take ONE little trip all by yourself and all the sudden, you’re anti-social. sometimes the universe is a NAG!

i then proceeded to charge back up the trail as fast as i was able. the placard at the top said it typically took people 40 minutes to make the return trip. i timed myself at 25. take THAT National Park Service!!

on such a smokey day, there were only very few other people around. i think i might have encountered a grand total of 2 dozen folks my entire time in the park, and i am including the somewhat surprsingly surly staff at the park’s Mazama Village Store where i was condescendingly informed that since it is federal land I WOULD HAVE TO PUMP MY OWN DAMNED GAS. that was an adventure all by itself…

after that excitement, and the scolding from the universe, i felt like my time alone on the road was over. so i scooted myself back to town. next time i run away from home, i’ll take a buddy.

i like to think of myself as a pretty adventurous soul. i like to go, and do, and try stuff, so when my friend suggested we go surfing i was all for it. nevermind that it was early October and forcasted to be rainy and windy and 12ft seas…

i will admit, i felt pretty tough and cool with all that gear strapped to Klaus’ rack…

we made it down to indian beach on saturday and the place was de-sert-ed. there was only one other vehicle in the parking lot. at first i think to myself: “sweet! beach all to ourselves!” then i get out of the car and think: “clearly, we are insane…”

cause it was sideways rain, windy-as-hell, and chilly as all get out. i had never before used a wet suit, so i was still somewhat skeptical about its ability to keep me from losing a vital percentage of my overall body heat. and last time i checked, hypothermia is not hot. also, though equipped with what SHOULD work as chest-mounted-built-in flotation devices, i am not the world’s strongest swimmer. i was getting slightly nervous about how rough the ocean looked, plus, when we unstrapped the boards, the wind picked them up and tossed them off the top of the car and cruelly down to the pavement. i found myself looking at my companion and saying: “have i made it clear i don’t want to die like this?”

nevertheless, we hoofed it down to the water and gamely waded in. it was at this point i discovered what i can only describe as the most magical thing i have learned in years: if i wear a wetsuit i can go in the ocean in october, and it is totally comfortable. seriously, this is life-changing information.

so. after a brief introduction to surfing basics, i wrestled myself on top of the board i’d been handed and managed to ride a pretty nice wave back to the shore. i was on my belly the whole time, but i can see why people abandon real life to do this all the time. i have to liken it to the feeling i had the first time i was on skis; the feeling was one of body-engulfing ecstatic giddiness. this obsession? it has me.

bolstered by my initial success, i waded back out into the water and took hold of the wider board my friend offered me in the hopes that though more cumbersome, it might prove slightly more stable for me and thus easier to mount. trying to wrangle this board was definitely more challenging, and about 2 minutes after he handed it to me, i managed to set it parallel to the wave (just exactly like you aren’t supposed to) and when the swell caught the board it smashed me full in the face and knocked me under. the degree of distress this caused my compatriot was considerable; apparently there was lots of blood.

i was fairly equivocal about the whole thing. i am constantly hurting myself; twisting, spraining, bruising, burning, scraping, or otherwise mangling myself. i fall down frequently doing nothing more complicated than trying to sit in my chair at work, so this pretty much seemed like par for the course. i spat blood into the ocean for about 10 minutes, but other than that, it didn’t really slow me down. plus this way, i’d look EXTRA tough and cool!!

ultimately, it was a really great experience. almost as soon as we got in the water, the wind let up and the rain stopped. the water was rough, but not scary rough. i had a few people tell me it wasn’t really an ideal day to get started on, but even if that’s true, i’m hooked. as far as i can tell, that just means, it gets better!

*i decided to make this a series on my vacation after i saw the length of the post for just the first day. forgive me, i ramble*

i managed a restless night’s sleep on friday last. i was ready, but trying not to let my anxiety rob me of the pleasure of anticipation… i was moderately successful.

i got to work only to discover we were totally overstaffed and the ladies did not need me there. after all the buildup and going in to work anyway they shooed me out the door with prayers, best wishes, and no small amout of eye rolling. i scuttled out of town gleefully, but with no clear sense of what i was going to do with my extra 3/4 day of freedom…

well. my whole attitude here was “act on a whim” and so that’s pretty much what i did. i had all day to get out to my first destination, which was the Sheep Rock Unit of the John Day Fossil Bed National Monument. originally, when i was planning on leaving after work, i wanted the fastest route to get there, since it is no small distance. as it was, i thought i’d take the scenic route. so, over Mt Hood i went. when i rolled into Madras, i saw the signs pointing out to the Cove Palisades and thought “what the hell, i’ve never been down there…” whim followed.

it was hot, it was really the perfect day for swimming, but though i had a suit, i didn’t have the $5 in cash to pay for the park fee. i also didn’t have patience required to listen to the 8,746 screaming children who were in evidence. so, i got back in my car and rolled out. it did however solve the mystery of just where exactly the hell lake billy chinook actually is.

next bit of excitement occurred as i drove into Prineville. before my entire concept of this little town was: Les Schwab is from there. and sure enough, as i came through the western edge of town i drove past the Les Schwab Retread Center, which, hilariously, was painted neon mint green on the outside. it gave me that same special thrill i always get at “free beef” time.  but this thrill was QUICKLY AND TOTALLY ECLIPSED when i got onto main street and saw: The Arctic Circle.

apparently, they do still exist. they have not gone the way of the dinosaur just yet. i wasn’t hungry, and couldn’t justify eating there for no reason, but i knew i’d be back through the next day and filed this information gleefully away under “opportunities for fry sauce.”

i drove east for a good while longer and noticed a high concentration of large animal roadkill. all told on this entire trip i saw: 2 deer, 1 antelope, 1 raccoon, 2 coyotes, and countless possum, squirrels, chipmunks, and unidentifiable smears in the road.  both deer and the antelope were on this one stretch between Prineville and Dayville. it’s a dangerous place to be a critter.

when i finally got to the Sheep Rock Unit i’d been in the car for about 5 hours and really needed to not be in the car for a while. i spied a little shoulder spot which looked to have creek access. i picked my way down to the water and had a little sit down. i have literally never put my feet in water that was a more perfect temperature for foot putting. i was quite pleased. slipping back into my leather flipflops and trying to climb out of the creek bed with wet feet too slippery to gain proper purchase in my shoes was a slightly frustrating if ultimately amusing experience.

i got out to the main interprative center area and looked over the musem artifacts and various fossil-related propaganda only to realize: i think geology is boring. i mean, i like looking at rocks, under the proper circumstances, but the whole “this is the product of MILLIONS OF YEARS OF VOLCANIC ACTIVITY AND SEDIMENTARY BUILDUP AND UNIMAGINABLE PRESSURE EXER- blah blah blah. i realize, this makes me a terrible person, and many of my friends who are much smarter and sciencey than me will learn of this and feel nothing but scorn, but its pretty much totally true. one thing i will say about my fossil beds experience; it is minimum effort required for fairly gratifying payoff. most of the best stuff can be seen from your car or a walk requiring less strain than carrying in the groceries. this lovely shot was taken from a parking lot across the street.

the drawback here, was that i had pretty much planned to spend an entire day poking around the monument and since i discovered that: a) i find rocks boring, and b) nothing here required much time or effort to enjoy, i realized i was about a day ahead of schedule and had no idea what to do about it. it was clearly time to smoke a cigarette.

i went out on thursday and GLEEFULLY purchased a pack of the smokes i used to like to smoke back when i periodically smoked. which was about 4 years ago. it is not as much fun as i remember. first i couldn’t get the damn thing lit until i got out of the wind. the only place i could find to get out of the wind was an outhouse. nothing quite like taking a deep breath and getting a lungful of smoke and potty-roma. eww. then i was going to finish the cigarette while driving. it’d be FUN! but instead i IMMEDIATELY burned klaus’ upholstery by carelessly leaning too far to the left with a burning tip. then i managed to ash on the inside of my car when i was trying to make it out the window and then i dropped tobacco all over the floor when i was trying to put it out inside the car without losing any burning cinders out the window into the extremely fire-prone desert. it was a serious cigarrette FAIL. i didn’t even try to smoke another one. and now i have 19/20ths of a really fancy pack of smokes and no desire to smoke them. sweet. with that distractionary tactic out the window (or rather, not) i realized i had to revert to a more typical means of wasting time: it was clearly time to drink.

in order to do this, i needed to get to camp. had a few places picked out as possible campsites. i only had a vague idea of where they’d be or what the facilities would look like. when i arrived, there was smiling. i could see the John Day river from where i parked my car to sleep. i had a nice big tree to give me shade and scenery. a picnic table and fire pit rounded out the spot. $5 for a BLM site, so the price could not be beat. no running water, but i hadn’t been on the road long enough to lament that yet. what i DID lament was the realization that conditions were such as to prohibit fires. which, reeeeeeeeaally sucked. for, how was i to cook my din-din? and how was i to begin to use the 7.6 million tons of firewood i had crammed into every available space in my car?? i used the ENTIRE SPACE inside the cargo box my friend David lent me, and STILL brought more wood. i mean, i always overpack, but in this case it was harming my mpg for chrissakes. though, i will admit i like how the box makes me look EXTRA tough and outdoorsy.

there were a few families with kids, but for the most part they kept their screaming to a low roar. thanks to the tutelage of my friend Emma, i now know enough to always bring an eyemask and earplugs whenever i’m camping so i was content to ignore the din from the camp next door.

bummed out there would be no fire, i pulled out livingston and sang to myself for a while. this was apparently a signal to the attack chiuhauhas from the neighboring camp to come over and alert me of their fierce protective stance. they hopped and barked in outrage at my presumption until i told them solemnly what scary dogs they were and how i was deterred from taking any aggressive action against their families. they seemed contented with this and wandered away. i returned to my strumming and i plucked out the chords to two songs i really like and wanted to figure out how to play, and discovered a chord which led me to the first verse of a new song. it’s not a happy one, so i had to stop writing it when i started dripping tears into the soundhole. played with my nintendo for a while and fell asleep before the sun was even totally down.

NEXT: The Most Volcano Intensive Day of My Life Thusfar

ohmygodmytripisfinallyhereandimleavinginonlyalittleovertwentyfourhours!

deep breaths.

i spent most of my day off yesterday running around doing trip prep. even my lunch date with TBIL ended up detouring to REI so we could buy gear for our respective outdoor jaunts. he needed biodegradable potty paper. i am happy to say, i will not be going QUITE that rustic.  i did buy a super kick ass Benchmark® atlas-cum-recreation guide, nalgene, and RIDONKULOUSLY bright LED flashlight. couldn’t find any pepper spray (which was more for the peace of mind of my loved ones than for me) but the bear repellent was like $45. i’ll take my chances with smokey for that price.

went over and bought a 1/4 cord of firewood, which as it turns out, is WAAAAAAAY more wood than will fit in the cargo box i am borrowing from Mr Pencil. packed spare logs in all the places in the car that wont be likely to send slivers of barkdust into my bed. leaving the rest at home for later use in our little patio firebowl. also seized by the realization that all that time alone in the car is BEGGING for a pack of fancy expensive* smokes. so i stopped at the smoke shack on Foster and procured a package of Nat Sherman Natural Mint Cigarettes. i’ve promised myself i wont smoke one until i’m on the road, but oh, the sheer joy at sliding them across the counter, at holding the square green box in my hands. also, got a bright shiny new lighter of the crack torch variety. heeee hee hee.

spent the rest of the day shopping and packing and organizing and sorting. crates of kitchen items, bags of bathroom stuff. cameras**, ipod, tarot cards & books, guitar, journal, bicycle, knee braces, frisbee (maybe i’ll meet a friendly transient in the wilderness who wants to play?!)***

and all other manner of goodies to try and keep myself occupied on my journey. all needs done now is to fill my spare with air, load everything into Klaus, and roll.

am planning to avoid the internets (assuming i would even have service). may have apoplexy keeping away from twitter. we’ll see….

*turns out my fancy smokes are lots less expensive if i buy them in the ghetto!

**have managed to lose media card for one camera and have only flaky crazy weird wont-turn-on-all-the-time camera plus one disposable film camera to get me through. peeewp.

***maybe this is why i need the pepper spray…