Tuesday April 21: Today I have my last campfire here at McKay Crossing along Paulina Creek west of the Newberry National Monument in central Oregon.
Last campfire at McKay
I take photos as I say good-bye before we have breakfast and begin the packing routine.
Saying good-by to the tall ponderosa trees
and to Paulina Creek
Time to leave our McKay home
Packing takes a good three hours since we have become so settled in after being here for two weeks. Odds and ends of loose stuff go in bags; everything is packed neatly so it will all fit, but things are becoming harder to find. The next time we set up, a complete reorganization will be necessary.
Once we are finally packed, we head to the little town of Sunriver, a few miles down the highway. After a tasty lunch at the Village Bar and Grill, we find out way to Lori’s place, a sanctuary overlooking the Deschutes River.
The Deschutes River
Lori is an artist and her paintings and sculptures grace every room of her home. Some of her work reminds me of Leaning Tree cards, and indeed, as we later learn, she is one of the Leaning Tree artists.
We warm ourselves at her wood stove and then sit in the sunshine on the deck overlooking the river as we chat about the environmental issues that affect all of us; Lori speaks from the perspective of an activist and Clifford from the perspective of a researcher. It is as though we are all words on the same page, each of us contributing to the story being told – hopefully the story of a return to wholeness for the planet and all life on it.
Later, after dinner and more sharing, we listen to the frogs (or toads) as they “rivet rivet rivet” through the night.
Wednesday April 22: In the morning I admire the lovely light that warms the trees and the meadows along the river bank, but taking photos through the screen does not work, so this picture is only in my mind. I accompany Lori down to the bank where she feeds the ducks, some domestic and a pair of mallards.
Lori feeding the ducks
After breakfast, Clifford has a radio interview with a local station and then we take some time to catch up with email before heading out for the afternoon. Lori is taking us sight-seeing on our way to the place where Clifford will be giving a talk this evening. We go to the headwaters of Fall River, a place where a spring is the birthplace of a creek that soon becomes a river that flows into the Deschutes.
Birthplace of Fall River
It is amazing that so much water can come forth with so little fanfare. The crystal-clear water is surrounded by mossy rocks and logs, creating a fairyland habitat.
Moss and green grass
There is an old ranger station here, no longer in use but still maintained, which is perhaps the one where Clifford spent time with friends over 40 years ago. Inside and out, it looks familiar to him.
The old ranger station
Further down the road, we walk along the Fall River, admiring its lovely clarity and the reflections on its surface as it flows gently toward the Deschutes.
Fall River
Reflections on the crystal-clear water of Fall River
Friends of Lori’s are hosting Clifford’s talk in their lovely home, also along the Deschutes River. From their back yard I am delighted to find a view of Mount Bachelor, which has been elusive. I have had only the briefest glimpses of it, even though it is one of the most outstanding peaks in the area, the view always being blocked by trees or the contours of the land.
Mount Bachelor
There is a good turn-out for Clifford’s presentation, which is received with renewed enthusiasm and appreciation for the work that he is doing.
Cllifford’s talk in Sunriver, near Bend, Oregon
It is late by time we return to Lori’s place and we soon retire to our rooms. Tomorrow we will head to Ashland for the next talk, but tonight the “rivet rivet rivet” of the frogs keeps us company, reminding us in their own way of the importance of restoring a healthy environment to the planet.
Thursday April 9: The air is crisp and the sky is a beautiful blue at McKay Crossing in central Oregon. I take photos of the morning sunlight on the trees tops overhead with the blue sky as their backdrop.
Morning sun on Ponderosa and really blue sky
It would be nice to stay here all day, but today is a town day as Clifford has an important phone call to make in connection with Carnicom Institute. We head to Bend as soon as we can and after the phone call, we run our errands, including going to the RV place to see if we can get the stove repaired (we decide to replace it), Harbor Freight to get another solar panel which will make life on the road easier, and a few groceries. As we make our rounds, now and then I catch a glimpse of the peaks of the Cascade Range to the west. There are some beautiful mountains just waiting to have their photos taken, but it is hard to get a clear shot of them.
Peaks in the Cascade Range to the west
Back at camp we make an easy dinner of soup, cheese and crackers before heading to bed early.
Friday April 10: The crisp cool morning air smells great. I head downstream to take photos of the falls and the rapids before the sun hits the water, making it too contrasty for a good photo. I get as close to the edge as I safely can to take the photos. Although the falls are exciting and beautiful, I can’t help but think of the young man whose life ended here.
Waterfall at McKay Crossing
Much of the day my day centers around the cooking, cleaning, and organizing stuff to keep our tiny home from getting too cluttered. In the afternoon Clifford gathers wood for a late afternoon campfire; there is plenty of wood up on the hillside above our campsite. I love the solitude here, the campfire, the sounds of the creek flowing by our camp, stars at night and the warmth of the sun in the cool mornings. How different the world would be if everyone had the opportunity to experience this peacefulness in their lives.
Campfire in the afternoon
Later I do some photo editing and cook chicken for dinner.
Saturday April 11: Another town day, as we are going in to pick up our new stove for the Pony, but there other errands (already) and the laundromat. Clifford bought me a hotspot so that I can check email for the institute when we are traveling, at least when I have a good cell phone connection. He talks to the woman on the other side of the world to get it working while I tend to the laundry. Back at camp I try the new hotspot, but I am not convinced that it is working. Even though we really like this place where we are camping, there are some disadvantages to being out in a forest miles from town when it comes to electronic communication, which we almost take for granted these days. However, as the sun gets low in the western sky and lights up the red-barked shrubs along the banks of Paulina Creek, all I can think of is how happy I am to be here.
Late afternoon light on shrubs
Sunday April 12: It is a chilly 25 degrees when I get up this morning, but sunny, so it feels good to be out. I think about having a campfire, but the sunlight is warm and rather than tending a fire, I just walk about admiring the tall ponderosa trees that surround us. A trail behind the campsite heads up the hillside to a gently sloping forest where there is an abundance of downfall where I gather wood for an evening campfire.
Clifford gets the new stove put together and installed. It is so great to have two burners once again. It will certainly make cooking easier. I am able to get a couple of messages sent with my phone, but the hotspot and tablet are not allowing me to take care of the institute mail. This morning I drew new Sacred Geometry cards: one was Balance and another was Contact, which has something to do with “going with the flow.” The name of the card doesn’t make sense to me, but the advice does, so I don’t get too upset about the fact that I can’t access and take care of the email. It is what it is and I can’t change it at the moment.
In the evening we have another warm campfire to extend our outdoor time.
Evening extended
Today is Fin’s birthday. I send him a message; I hope he is happy and well. I so seldom hear from him; China seems very far away. I hope he also has the opportunity to be outdoors, to gaze up at tall trees, and warm himself by a campfire in the cool of the evening.
Tuesday April 7: Today we leave our civilized campground at the mouth of the Deschutes and head south toward its headwaters south of Bend, Oregon. Thanks to my research and phone calls ahead, I know of one campground that will be open this time of the year, McKay Crossing. Many roads and most campgrounds are still closed because normally at this time of year there would still be 2 to 3 feet of snow on the ground. Oregon has had an exceptionally mild and dry winter, not so good for the summer ahead, but the road to McKay Crossing is open and the campground is not gated.
South of Bend, we run into a snow flurry – hmmm. I am wondering how the road to the campground is going to be, since it is uphill. There is snow on the ground, and as the road climbs, we begin to consider where we might pull off to spend the night. Just then we spot a sign ahead and we are at the McKay Crossing. Clifford parks and we walk through the campground, which is spread out on both sides of Paulina Creek, and pick the campsite that we like the best, as no one else is crazy enough to be out in a snow flurry looking for a place to camp. The site we pick is spacious, overlooks the creek, and is away from other campsites.
Snowy Paulina Creek from our campsite
It is already late afternoon, so we get the Pony (our pop-up) set up as quickly as possible and soon we have heat and hot water on for tea. I am excited that we have some snow – not enough to prevent us from being here, but enough for snowy photos of the creek and the trees. The Pony floor is still damp from yesterday’s tank overfill, but other than that LIFE IS GOOD!
Pony set-up in the snow
Wednesday April 8: It is 31 degrees this morning, so the snow lingers, and only 44 degrees for a high with sleet/snow coming and going all day with little stretches of sunshine in between.
Cool morning – the snow lingers
Clifford greets the morning
Although I can’t get set up for long periods of time in the sunshine, I enjoy being outside most of the day.
Snow lingers on pine branches
Snow on Manzanita
We walk to the waterfall that is just a ways downstream from the camp. It is small compared to Palouse Falls, but quite impressive in its own way. A plaque on a tree commemorates the life of a young man who died here less than two years ago. We guess that he must have tried to jump into the pool at the base of the falls, a foolhardy action at best, and we are especially careful as we inch close enough to the chasm to take photos.
Paulina Creek falls at McKay Crossings
Our solar panel is set up even though today is not the best day to gather energy from the sun. I do a little Carnicom Institute email on Clifford’s tablet (which takes less power than my laptop), but the internet connection is iffy, so I only take care of the most pressing emails. Considering we are in a ponderosa forest miles from town, we consider ourselves fortunate to have any cell service or internet. Solar power is limited today, also, but we are lucky to have whatever is available. I write a blog about our stay at Palouse Falls and edit photos until the battery on my laptop goes dead. I feel a little frustrated about the limitations, but there are many other things to do that don’t involved cell phones or computers.
It is time for me to start switching gears – walkabouts taking photo and reading old journals are at the top of my list.
Sun and clouds and snow
Learning to walk at a slower pace, to chew food slowly, to take one’s time at even the most mundane activities are of value in being present to one’s state of well-being. I am used to rushing through one activity so I can get on to the next, but here there is no need to rush to go anywhere or do anything other than what I am doing at the moment. It is okay to slow down; it is better than okay – it is right and good to slow down, to slow down and enjoy life.
