State of the fall

 A mummy, some old school, and a nod to local team and league champs, The Hops. Not a bad rendition of mascot, Barley, if I do say so. Freehand, as well!

Working out back and looked up to see this. No wonder there was a lack of traffic noise. Nevertheless, this can't be good.

Yep, there's yer problem! Didn't even hear it fall, but this tree rendered our road useless. The trip to town...more than quadrupled. The joy of riding the single speed bike sans traffic...also increased. Took the crew three days to remove it. Apparently other, more traveled roads were blocked.

Downtime due to giant prone trees? Build a diddley bow! As simple as it gets but oh so much hobo goodness! Those curious: grab a single guitar string or heavy wire, nail it down, insert an Allen wrench or glass bottle (careful!) for tension, and rip it up on the slide. Find an old pickup and plug 'er into 60W of tube! A bit of distortion makes it sing. Delay and phaser, and, son, you've had too many pints of Natian Imperial Stout.

Also checked off the fall to-do list - one last run down the local bassin' river. Caught a few, saw some fog, and watched elusive salmon jump and dance about. State laws say that fishin' has halted until May. The water will soon rise, though, and perhaps get angry. Stoked for a one way squirrely ride on the SUP.

Illustrative

It's been a while. Sorry about that. Western Oregon has been wet, and that wetness has put the projects on hold. Sun is on the foreseeable horizon, though. Maybe that'll bring out the blog posts.

In other news, I've been playing with logo ideas. I kind of like it. It's not "there" yet...

The Eco Challenge, part 1

Employer has thrown down a challenge - engage in a simple act of eco-friendliness and post some progress. Compete against other teams. Win prizes. Ok, then. Due in part to me needing a little motivation on a long-procrastinated task, I chose to outfit the ranger station with some rain collection barrels.  Or barrel.  Or equivalent do-dad. There's still some research to be done. I would like to make an effort to get off of the rather expensive "city" water. The garden and container plants are quite thirsty. If done right, a rain collection system could be beneficial for planet and wallet alike. First step, though: clean the gutters and see what kind of options I have.

Full and getting fuller. Gonna have to do this again - and soon - but it's high time to remove some leaves.  Three sides of the ranger station are lined with gutters.  All were full with putrid decaying foliage. Once clean, though, it became apparent that this system may have some problems with flow. A good deal of standing water remained; it seems it has a hard time traversing the rather level trough. Looks like some modifications are needed. Lots of surface area on that roof, though; once the gutter issues get worked out, rain volume should be rather high. Gonna need a big barrel.

Didn't take an after picture of the area, but this is where one of two down spouts connects. The previous owner didn't install mesh, so the down spout is rather full of leaves, as well. A project for a different day. Not a bad pic for balancing on a wobbly ladder whilst holding a bucket of rancid leaves.  The S5 does a bang up job with the camera capabilities. Off to scour the barrel options at the feed store.

Floored

Well, that's a drab sight. It is, however, the basement we were dealt. The true "before picture" features walls of a more destitute state. We took care of that a few weeks ago; the off white really makes a difference.

Big difference, yes? Valspar Floor and Patio paint. Stuff's awesome. The fumes are heinous, but it'll be worth it in the end. Easy project, but one that completes the cornerstone to every other project on the list.

Rain's comin' soon

Sky turns purple at the side of the day. Fall kicked down the door and made her arrival clear. Sunflowers faded but cut and placed upon the kitchen table.  One last garden harvest, perhaps, to go. The road smells of soaked oil and rain; it seems as though the entire countryside is reeling from the seasonal flux. Time for an appropriate soundtrack.

End of the road

Took a trip up the road and into the mountains. Turns out that this little gem is hidden in them there hills. Actually, a couple of falls are situated at the end of a short decent-heavy hike. Easy in, but quite full of uphill on the way out. The road is dicey, as coast range routes should be. Walked out of that range a time or two. Stood behind the falls and soaked in the disorienting perspective.

In other news, fall seems to be bearing down upon the mid-valley. The light is shifting, and the late summer wildfires are adding to the mix. Smoke and celestial travel led to a rather magnificent set of recent sunsets.

The property has been taking more than its fair share of time. Finally decided to resume a favorite pastime, and took the Trucker up into the surrounding hills. Gravel grinders, map-less wanderings, and perfect weather combined to make one of the best rides in recent memory.

Why this locale? We stayed here a few years back. Old grain silos converted to lodging. Even met a guy who's purported job was teaching athletes to run like cheetahs. Much wine involved, but his gig seemed legit.

Returned home to wander the town, taste a few new-to-us wineries, and read the buzz away in the hammock. Then...music.

Those in the know...yep, Teisco, indeed. Garage sale...15 bucks. Sings like a songbird.

The Crush

For the second time this year, our sleepy little hamlet opened up its doors and formally welcomed all passerby. The Crush is a celebration of the coming grape harvest, and offered to attendees a myriad of games, helicopter rides, and, of course, adult beverages.

Miss Oregon USA even stopped by to reap the Americana. Nice girl. I think this sort of thing comprises her job. Here she is refereeing the wine thief relay. For those not in the know, a wine thief is a simple plastic device used to transfer wine from point A to B.

This guy fought a noble fight but lost to the hometown favorite. Miss Oregon did her best to fain amusement. Next came the exhibition round of wine barrel rolling. The fellow featured below works at a nearby hyper-priced, gravity-fed purveyor of pinot.

These sorts of shenanigans are best viewed under the influence of the fruits of Crushes long passed.

What would a Crush be without some costumed dental assistants hepped up on Riesling? Local businesses formed teams and competed to stomp the most grapes. Didn't stick around to see who won, but it was a pretty intense battle.

The big city sent down a fleet of their finest vintage T-birds. Jealousy evoking and polished to the nines, these autos demanded a methodical looking over.

Well done, Daddy-O! Prior to the event, this little guy was full of pre-Crush stoke.

Much more fun than the early Summer Fun Days, the Crush proved itself as a hit. Could be better, though. The local wineries could really use the time as a venue of promotion. Maybe get out of the beer garden and man a booth of their own? Staff said space with a knowledgeable staff person? Seems like a no brainer...

Found Waldo

Pardon the lack of recent posts; we just got back from a trip to Waldo Lake. For non-Oregonians, this beauty is one of the world's most pure lakes. Kayaking, freediving, pathetic fishing (so clear that lake is!) filled the days. Whiskey, campfires, and box wine filled the evenings. The underwater scene at Waldo is unreal. Gliding over the sand flats reminds one of Hawaii. I'd scan for stingrays and barracuda, only to realize that I was a mile high in the Cascades. Waldo was always on our short list of paddle destinations, and it was worth the wait.

40 miles out

Got the above sticker at a wine fest a few years back. Didn't think to pull it out 'til now. Saturday had me venturing out with cousin, sorta-cousin, and dad for an adventure 40 miles out. Cousin has a tuna boat, and invited me along for a celebratory trip in honor of pop's birthday.

Pardon the lame Go Pro footage; the sea was rough. Really rough. 10 foot swells coming from all directions. My first time with sea sickness, and I've worked on the ocean in many capacities. Brutal...like hangover spins coupled with an anxiety attack.  All made worse by the bad new country music played at high volume on cousin's speakers. Some song about John Wayne, Johnny Cash, and John Deere sent me to the rails.

Tuna fishing requires each person to be set up for jigging, swimbaits, and trolling.  Hence, many a rod atop this peacock boat.

But, then there's the reward. Enough fish for a year. And the growler station had a rare tap of Boneyard's imperial CDA. The taste...amazing. The fishing...like tying a line to an out of control semi truck. And check out that pint glass.  It was given out at OR a few years back.  Petzl teamed up with Osprey packs and hosted a beer event.  Good times.

Why Hill Billy

The last locale featured a dirty bass river reeking of ag runoff and decay. As does the new place; the difference, though, is that the Yamhill county river is devoid of humans and more approachable for the angler. The smallmouth are plentiful but medium in size. Picky they are, though. The lure of choice is atypical and only proven on Montana trout streams. Still...it worked.

The foot bridge was rickety but cool. Bored teenagers seem to make up the traversing populace.

Shade and finesse are key. Absolutely stoked to find this neighborhood gem.

The hobo succulent

Digging 'neath the tomato patch, I uncovered a strange plant that was unlike the usual weeds N detritus. A succulent, perhaps? But how? We did buy the tomatoes at the feed store...late in season and at a discount. Perhaps their soil got blessed with something extra?

Given that OAQ Jr. is enthralled with desert plants, I dug it up and planted it. 'Tis now in the greenhouse with the rest of the fleshy drought-loving plants. Anyone know what it is?

Drink whiskey; make hobo music.

That there is a relic rescued from a flooded house. An ancient student banjo now strung in tri-tar fashion. B-F#-B. A mix of nylon and steel strings. Gonna build a stomp box and make it official. With Canadian blended, this thing completes Ranger Station chill time.

Something powerful soon come! The weather has been spastic and mean; thunder appears to be on tonight's menu. Perhaps...no stomp box needed. Nature shall provide the booms.

Green grow the rushes, go!

Blistered pepper plants and stunted tomatoes, but not a bad start for a mid-June debut. Timing was not in our favor, but escrow  brought those blues. A coworker had an unexpected move and our tidy garden is disrupted by plants she didn't want to leave abandoned. Happy - stoked, even - to have them. Multiple peppers and a lone, yet fruiting tomatillo now sit among the flock.

Gratuitous view shot; the thunder never came, but the sky show was not lacking. The mercury tickled 100 today, and the air was thick. Miserable conditions bring about beauty, it seems.

My favorite rose decided to kick out the jams and bring us another round. Anyone know what varietal this is? On a huge vintage R.E.M. kick lately; the title song can be found in this epic 1985 live set...19 minutes and change.

Fishin takes all?

Interesting Blogger phenomenon - posts about plants N gophers pale in comparison to those surrounding kayak fishin'. The stats graph spiked. Maybe ya'all fancy some Tupperware-centered angling. Here's another shot from Siletz. Those mountains are more glorious in person, I swear.

Further reading had me realizing that Ken's novel,  Sometimes A Great Notion, led to a movie filmed here. There's even a fishin' hole called the Movie House. It's where they filmed the show, and is now pretty dilapidated.  I've been long meaning to watch that flick. Or read the book.  But, between gophercide and gardening, and random trips to the sea, time has been short.

The drive back from Siletz was fueled by a radio program that made me reach for an old envelope and pen. Jot stuff down, I did! A public radio show featured an artist so profound that I had to slow down and scribe a name. Possessed by Paul James. No hyperlink - that kills timelessness, doesn't it? Look him up. Please. Stompbox, multiple instruments, soul...so much soul.

Changing bays

Moving to wine country dictated a change in fishin' bays. Tillamook has been exchanged for the one south of Lincoln - an area rife with strip malls, meth heads, and kite N taffy shops. After driving through the gaudiness, I stumbled upon a private marina. The owner charges a steep launch fee, but gave this kayaker a break. Surly and opinionated beyond the usual coastal status quo, the old man was also willing to give up a little intel. The sea run cutthroat run is in full swing, and the cantankerous one - despite his disbelief that I was targeting trout over salmon - pointed out a few holes.

Said holes, though, offered little beyond a smattering of juveniles.

The going was windy and against the tidal flow. Perhaps this isn't a fair trade for Tillamook. Time will tell.

Scenic, it is, though; if the wind ever pipes down, there exists potential. Viewed today: my first green heron, a doe and speckled fawn, and ten plus white egrets. Also, two sculpins were caught. Despite their small size, these spiny creatures are formidable fighters. A return is warranted; I should develop a palate for bubble gum flavored taffy.

Choking gophers

Artichokes watching the moon take flight. National Night Out elsewhere; wine and gopher stalking here...

The numbers have thinned, but Big Daddy remains. Elusive little thing...he knows that it's gotten serious. About to consult Mr. Murray.

County fair

The county fair is upon us, and it lived up to all expectations. Pictured above is a covered wagon belonging to a coworker's 4H group. They take it for lengthy camping trips and teach kids various lost pioneer arts.

This guy, despite his baby-soft nose, remained suspicious of my photographic intentions.

The fair visit was short, and thus allowed some time devoted to working on the ranger station's percussion corner. Stoked to make a space for drumming.