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.