MY RED-NECK CAMPING WEEKEND: Out Beyond Oakridge

A sign (or portent) of things to come?

My uncle Rico, brother Kip and I escaped from work early on a Friday and headed south as far as Eugene. Turning east, we made it as far as Oakridge before we found it necessary to stop for beer.

The Union Brewery features beer, of course, but also a menu uniquely accented with Spam entrees.

Curiously, there is a chart over the men’s urinal that details the thermodynamic conductivity of several types of wire…and Spam (surprisingly, Spam holds up pretty well).

Uncle Rico

Deb: Okay, turn you head on more of a slant...

Deb: Now, make a fist. Slowly ease it up underneath your chin.

Deb: This is looking really good.

Kip: You can say that again.

Deb: Kay, hold still right there. Now, just imagine you're weightless, in the middle of the ocean, surrounded by tiny little seahorses.

Deb: [takes the picture] That was the one. I think that's gonna come out really nice.

Uncle Rico: Ah, how you did it... wow... well I felt really relaxed. Thanks Deb.

Uncle Rico: You're up Kip.

Kip

Kip: Is there some kind of vest that I can wear?

- Dialogue from Twentieth Century Fox’s movie, Napoleon Dynamite

I thought it took a long time for our two vehicle convoy to span the distance from Portland to Oakridge, but (long, long after sunset) when Uncle Rico finally found the turn-off to his little known campsite, it all paled into insignificance as Kip and I followed Rico's Jeep down overgrown forest service roads laid out in what I’ll generously describe as a diabolical labyrinth. Scrubby moth infested pines loomed out of the darkness, reaching car-ward with menacing, abrasive branches…as if we had entered a car wash from hell.

Gratuitous giant bonfire

The milky way (~4 minute exposure)

Morning revealed that we were camped next to a vast alpine marsh, though not so marshy at this time of year.

The water was cold and clear and beneath the surface a whole world danced and undulated in concert with the current.

Kip kept peering into the water and claiming to see big fish. Uncle Rico could see them too…and then to prove it, would catch them. But I never saw any until Rico reeled them out of the water. “You can’t see the fish so much as you can see their shadows.” Kip explained to me.

Here and there, archipelagos of drowned trees testified to former high water levels.

A fence at a bend in the creek seems poorly placed.

The underwater ballet can be hypnotizing

Kip, practicing to be a cage fighter, refines his sense of balance.

It amazes me how big these bullets are.

If you were being attacked by a zombie who was trying to throw a propane tank at you, would you aim at the zombie or the propane tank?

A careful scientific investigation reveals…

…that you might be better off shooting directly at the zombie’s head since a dramatic explosive fireball with shrapnel can’t be guaranteed.

Uncle Rico cooks a fresh trout dinner.

Test Paddling the Thresher 140

Wilderness Systems has broadened their sit-on-top offerings this year with the introduction of the Thresher (this includes a 14 and 15.5 foot version). The Thresher seems designed to bridge a gap between overly stable, relatively slow fishing platforms and sleeker more touring-orientated craft, all for the sake of fisher-people who need to cover significant distances to reach their intended fishing locales, whether that's in the middle of a huge bay or out beyond the breakers in the open sea The characteristics that make this boat a good fishing option, should also make it a killer expedition photography platform/beer barge. I knew my test trials wouldn't be complete until I auditioned this state of the art bid for kayak fishing supremacy. The Thresher 140 I've probably been remiss for not highlighting this before, but the reason I've been able to rent and evaluate various sit-on-top kayaks is because of the reasonable and renter friendly policies of the

Miller Island Expedition: Columbia River Ghost Cult

My brother Fred sent me a checklist of things he didn’t want to forget for our second attempt at a Miller Island Expedition. Foil pans Steak Beer or whiskey/tequila Bacon Shovel TP Bug spray Homebrew Ghost repellents Scouting Miller Island from the Lewis and Clark Highway (Washington side of river) “Ghost repellents?” I asked. Well, it turns out that Fred had been doing some research and found an old article from American Anthropologist by Wm. Duncan Strong called The Occurrence and Wider Implications of a “Ghost Cult” on the Columbia River Suggested by Carvings in Wood, Bone and Stone. The article, written in 1945, revealed that bone carvings depicting figures with prominent rib cages, a symbol of death, were found in old cremation pits on Miller’s Island. Excerpts from the article: “It can be shown that among these peoples there was an old belief in the impending destruction and renewal of the world, when the dead would return…” “One of the most striking fea

John Day River: Thirty Mile Creek to Cottonwood Bridge

"Ever since the creation of the world his invisible nature, namely, his eternal power and deity, has been clearly perceived in the things that have been made. So they are without excuse;" -Romans 1:20 "I'm not so sure about that, but whether or not we all make it through these rapids alive, I'm confident the grading criteria will be fair." - Scott "Get ready to explore your world without boundaries." - Wilderness Systems Owners Manual Sunrise found us on the outskirts of Wasco, high on the Columbia Plateau, our 3 vehicle convoy speeding through golden fields of wheat on toward Condon and then West to a 7:30 AM meeting with a rancher who would provide us a private launch site to the John Day river and also execute our car shuttle. Startling verdant fields, free of the vestiges of irrigation, belied narratives of drought that punctuated the news. The fresh born morning, still cool to the senses, felt like the fledgling hours of a

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