Canoeing the Wood River

My second surprise on this vacation came while canoeing the Wood River. It is a gorgeous stretch of water, in the Klamath Basin, not very deep but with enough current to be different than anything we had canoed to date. It runs through ranch land and forests, is full of interesting things to see, nice places to pull a canoe out and have a lunch. It starts at a spring that forms a full river, not unusual in the volcanic Cascades.

Our daughter and her family had canoed this stretch (about 5 miles) several times before and talked of how beautiful it was. We knew it was too long for the smallest grandkids but our son's family had to leave a day earlier which left us a day to give it a try.I am not an adventurous person, nor am I one who likes to have thrills; so I had some reservations about the current they said was in the river. It also is a river of many oxbows where you nearly turn back onto yourself along with that current. They told me I'd have to keep my camera in a waterproof bag most of the time, only taking photos when stopping. That was definitely a drawback.

Being a canoe novice, I was nervous but willing to give it a try. There were some new tricks to learn with the paddle, ways to help the canoe make the turns, avoid downed trees, and avoid killing each other (that is Farm Boss and me). There is something about canoeing that can lead to spats as theoretically the back paddler tells the front paddler what to do. Strongest paddler is in the back. This can lead to disagreements especially if the canoe appears to be heading straight for a snag.
The stretch we canoed took about 5 hours, allowing for several stops and a nice lunch break (our daughter knows how to fix a picnic gourmet lunch). Although the river was constantly in current, it was a lot of work because the current doesn't take the canoe automatically where you want it to go. There is also one easy portage over an earthen dam.

We got a lot of good instruction, but there is no real way for anybody to tell someone else what to do in all situations in a river like the Wood. The currents and curves change with downed branches and trees. What worked one time might not another. You can be told the tools, learn how to use them, watch what the other canoe did, but each situation will vary. It will also vary from canoe to canoe.

Almost at the end of it, I got the surprise when we did something wrong (which we kind of think we know but still aren't totally sure exactly what). I felt the canoe starting to go over and knew there'd be no saving it. Being dumped into the river had not been on my agenda although I knew it was possible.

When a canoe tips in current, it reminds me of the sensation of being thrown from a horse (which has also happened to me). Basically, you are physically projected out and have to hope for the best. Even under water and looking up, I knew I was at no physical risk (we had passed the brush hanging into the stream, the stream was relatively shallow, and I was wearing my life jacket not to mention am a very strong swimmer), but still it's a strange feeling. Our son-in-law beached their canoe and came back to help us right the canoe and get everything back together.

It's one of those things that becomes more pleasant to think about after the fact than during it. My biggest concern had been my precious camera; but when we had started hitting more current, I had secured its bag to the canoe and it stayed dry.
I must admit that at nearly 66, I kind of like the idea of having been canoeing on a river, in some current, and being thrown from the canoe. A lot better at my age than sitting somewhere watching television or playing solitaire, not that I don't also do those things. However, I think I prefer the lakes where the only thing I have to worry about rocking the canoe is wind and a person at the back who keeps shifting position because of being uncomfortable.All photos are from along the upper Wood River. Yes, I have one of me looking like a drowned rat. No, I am not sharing it here!

Summertime and the living is easy-- well maybe not

This will likely sound silly but this is the time of the year I start thinking summer is going too fast. I know it barely began, but I look forward to these months the whole rest of the year. They last such a short time-- or so it seems at times.

Summer has been good to me so far. The weather is delightful, the nights still cool enough to sleep. My flowers are lush. The garden is starting to grow. I have always known how lucky I am to be living where I am close to nature and the animals on the farm. I get home from a trip somewhere, step out of the car with the creek below the house and feel like I live in a vacation-- if you ignore changing irrigation pipes, feeding sheep, unloading purchased hay, cutting thistles, and checking fences. This year I am again adding carrying squirrels to the back in the live trap.

We took back two and with the second I was thrilled to see a rabbit back there. We have had wild turkeys, pheasants, that runaway peacock, raccoons, beaver, but this is the first time I have seen a rabbit on the property. I wished I had my camera. Actually I wished I did for the little squirrel too-- by the time I was half way back. I wasn't about to turn around, but it had such a beautiful coat.

We canoed with our son, daughter by marriage, and their two kids one week-end at a small lake on the coast. We have another trip planned with the whole family for later in July. I am still hoping to get to Montana but time will tell on that one.

July 3rd we had a wonderful hiking trip with Parapluie and her husband. That trip was what will come in the next blog with photos. It's another of those times where I must have had several hundred and have to figure out how to winnow it down.
All photos are all from the week-end we canoed. Because I don't generally use photos of the kids, their partners, or my 4 grandchildren to protect their privacy; but because they are not identifiable, this is a rare exception. For me, it says it all. The boys had great fun canoeing and grandma very much enjoyed being able to share it with them. We took two canoes for the six of us. This one is theirs.

Deschutes River

Central Oregon is where I spent my week-end. Because it was our 7-year old grandson's birthday and because this is an alternate year for his birthday (his family has friend-parties alternating with family-years), he wanted us all to be together. Is that neat or what? So we rented a house for their family, our son's, and us that we have rented before in Sunriver, south of Bend, and the ten of us met for Friday, Saturday and Sunday.

It was as always a great time with good food, interesting conversations, fun with kids, but also nice to be in the land of tall pines, sagebrush, juniper, and snow capped mountains. Sunriver has resorts, homes, and every kind of recreation you can imagine with biking paths, stables for renting horses, swimming pools, small shops, restaurants, playgrounds, tennis courts, and the kind of scenery that is enough all by itself.

On Saturday we took two canoes on a mile or so of the Deschutes River. This was my first time on a river in a canoe. The river had some snags to watch for, but for a newbie, it was good that the current was limited. There were redwing blackbirds, osprey, various wildflowers, but the only flowers that ended up (mostly) in focus was Indian Paintbrush.

We had our granddaughter in our canoe which had the added benefit of her experience of being in canoes since before she was born. Well she won't remember that far back, but she was. She was informative and helpful even reminded me that bickering doesn't help and that the person in back is the boss-- not that I thought I was bickering (not at all). We finished off our little trip at a restaurant right on the river where it's easy to take the canoe out. Now this is my kind of roughing it!

Until I was confident of how it'd be with a little bit of current, I didn't take the camera from its waterproof bag. These pictures are from about halfway.

Pathless Trails

July 4th on the farm is a day pretty much like any other. We fly a flag, but we do that from Memorial Day until sometime after the Fourth when we take it down to put it up again on other undefined occasions. Farms though don't care if it's a holiday and all the usual things need to be done. This year it's getting the barns ready for the winter hay supply.

Sometimes (although not this year) the neighbors' kids shoot off fireworks on the Fourth but otherwise it would require driving at least 20 miles to go see any shows. Years ago there was a local volunteer from one of the fire departments who would raise money through donations and put on quite a show at one of the old mill sites, but he either moved, lost interest in doing it-- or money got tighter.

July 5th, however, was a special day for us. We initiated our new canoe to water. We are beginners in canoing, but we had gotten some basic instruction from our son-in-law last summer when we went out on Klamath Lake with them. This last year, we also had acquired some books before we had bought the canoe in June.

In looking for a safe place to physically experience how our specific canoe worked, my husband heard recommended a small reservoir in the Coast Range which was about 42 miles from here. Right price in gasoline to get there, right sized lake, no power boats permitted, and some arms to explore but not so many that we would be unable to get out of bed the next day due to our sore arms.

Saturday morning we successfully got the canoe onto the Highlander, congratulating ourselves once again that we had bought a lightweight canoe; then drove west to the lake where we planned to meet Parapluie and Fisherman. He had a one-person pontoon boat and we had invited her to ride in our canoe.

The weather was perfect with an off and on, light misting rain and temperatures in the mid-60s. I hadn't thought about the advantage of having our own photographer in the canoe, but she willingly took over the 'recording it for posterity' job which led to some great photos. The lighting was interesting and changed constantly leading to photos later that looked as though they might have been taken on different days.

There are so many things I like about a canoe. I can start with its beauty, the aesthetic pleasure of dipping a paddle into the water and feeling it move the canoe forward. I like being able to get to places that from a land trail, I would see totally differently. A trail in a lake or river is what you make it, unless there are rapids or logjams to portage.

When canoing, you look ahead and think you'd like to go somewhere, to the other side, to see a family of geese, to get closer to a nurse tree (generally a cut cedar where not only new young cedars grow but many other plants), or a marsh where there might be wildflowers, so change direction or side where you paddle and off you go.

While we did have a few glitches in learning how to coordinate our paddling, they were minor and part of any learning process. I had been told by both my daughter and daughter-in-law (both families have canoes) that you can argue with the person at the back all you want, but it will be in their hands where decisions are made and control of how to get where you want to go. So the easiest thing is to give in and just ask what they want you doing.

That could sound chauvinistic, the way some would say a marriage should be with the husband dictating everything, except it could be anyone at the back... and except it's good having it be the strongest person in that position. I had tried being in back on Klamath Lake, and it was more muscle than I wanted to put into it at that point. Maybe after a year of building those arm and upper body muscles and learning more paddle techniques, it'd work better for me.

Now there will be more small lakes and easy rivers (no rapids, extreme currents or tidal conditions to pull us out to sea) to try and I am excited about going again. I had always thought I'd like canoing but it was in my mid-60s that I finally did try it. It's never too late for trying new things. How cool is that!

(All photos with the Canon Rebel. Most on the lake shots taken by Parapluie.)

a week of grandchildren and a canoe

It has been hot in the part of my Pacific Northwest (but under 100° F.) which might not seem hot in many parts of the country unless you have no air conditioning. Fortunately the creek does cool off the farmhouse at night but daytime is a slow time. Walk in the morning early, cool off the house until the warmth begins to build outside; then hole up. I haven't really had a lot of ideas for blog writing. Can I blame it on the heat? Maybe.

It's not that a lot hasn't been going on. Last week there were grandchildren on the farm which is always a plus for grandma. Two stayed here for several days and two came out to have dinner. Still what can I write about it other than it was good? Since I don't use pictures of my family here, I can't share those even though I'd love to do so. Suffice it to say that there was good family time, lots of hugs, sharing, watching movies, going for walks, art, and love.

The youngest grandson is just beginning to crawl. How cool is that? The oldest and only granddaughter, was learning how to climb trees-- in fact it wasn't easy getting her out of them. I smiled as I watched the grandkids running up and down a pile of gravel because this spring I have watched the lamb gangs do the same thing. The three cousins, old enough to do so, had some fun times together. The youngest will be enjoying that someday; but at nine months, mommy is what he enjoys most.

We finally selected and bought a canoe last week-end which was also pretty cool but we haven't yet taken it out. Too many things going on. Last summer we got our first opportunity to use a canoe and loved it. We bought one in celebration of one of us turning 65 (Farm Boss) and the Solstice. Hopefully next week-end we will figure out where to take it. For now we are reading up on how to wisely use it as well as where.

Symbolic of the lushness of this season and in lieu of photos of my grandkids, these are of the climbing roses. I love old-fashioned roses that have histories that go back in time. Unlike the tea roses, they don't bloom all summer but while they are here, the air is full of their fragrance. It was a good June.

Canoeing on Klamath Lake

When I was a little girl, I learned to swim in a small mountain river. I still remember that first time swimming across to the rocks on the other side. It was a goal and an accomplishment that felt so good. I've swum and been on lakes, rivers and the ocean in motorboats, ferries, rowboats, inflatable rafts, dories, but never in a canoe. I always admired canoes, their beauty, quietness, grace as they glide through the water. Both of my kids and their families canoe. I can't quite say why I never had, but that changed on Klamath Lake.

Canoes are as graceful as I imagined. Getting a feeling of balance took a bit of doing. I was fortunate the experience was on a lake, no current with which to deal, and my teacher (son-in-law) was good at it. Other than possibly making a fool of myself, I wasn't afraid because I do swim well (not to mention life jackets). I want to get comfortable enough with the experience to swim out from the canoe-- and get back in when out on the water. Right now if I tipped it over, I'd have to tow it to shore to get back in.

Once past learning some of the basics, I loved how with a canoe you see paths. Even in the main lake, you look across to where you want to go and you see the way. When you are in marshes, the reeds part, water is entering the lake, you wonder how far does it go? How deep is it? It only has to be 10" deep according to our son-in-law.

You glide forward with each stroke of the paddle. If there is a photograph to take, you lay the paddle across the gunwales and hear the drip of the water as you absorb, seemingly through your whole body, the surrounding beauty and silence. Maybe it's because a canoe glides like the water birds, but it is as though I am part of all around me. The silence is broken only by the sound of the paddle dipping into the water-- unless a fish jumps, a beaver splashes off a bank, or a duck takes flight.

The water was so clear that I could look deep into it and see the fish swimming. Although I hoped to see a grebe down there on one of its dives, I was never in the right place-- or it was too smart for me. Up one of those lake 'paths', we stopped the canoes, found a shady spot, tied the two canoes together, let the grandkids swim, and my daughter and son-in-law opened a bottle of chilled white wine. Now that's my idea of roughing it.

A dream is the other side of the lake but in our subconscious. The path to it often isn't clear. It is frustrating when unfulfilled. We can get to thinking it might be better to forget it-- except, I believe in dreams. They are important for quality of life and we shouldn't lose track of what ours are.

Canoeing had been one of mine. Another involves riding a well-behaved horse, who loves me (even with fantasies I qualify), high into the mountains, pitching a tent by a lake where I swim, sketch, take photographs, lie in the sun, hike, maybe fish, and cook a simple meal over a little stove. (Romantic image or not, I've cooked over campfires and prefer Sterno stoves!) It's a dream that may remain a dream-- although you never know. Sometimes, as happened with me on Klamath Lake, dreams are fulfilled when we least expect it.