The Narrative Image

As near as I’ve been able to calculate, the red arrow points to our base of operations on the Owyhee River. This location is at the bottom end of about 48 miles of class II and III rapids - that is, if you happen to be there in the middle of May. If you’re there at the end of August and maybe during a season of drought, traveling by raft is rumored to be problematic. Sitting in the shade, fishing and drinking beer is nice, but you can’t do it all day. Well, actually, you can do it all day, but we were also cognizant of other points of interest in the canyon.   One such site was archeological in nature, but the people who know of such sites tend to be protective of them - and for good reason.   (LEFT: pictogram peppered with bullet scars. RIGHT: Same image modified with Jon Harmon’s DStretch to better delineate the original art.) For instance, this antler man that appears near Maupin, Oregon appears to be the victim of fairly intensive target practice.   (TOP: Various car...

While chronologically not appearing at this point in the narration, this strategically  picked picture is intended to attract the attention of internet passers-by.  Sgt. Rock and I set out in my un-trusty automobile under something I like to call a photographically promising sky - a 'shit-ton' (scientific term) of discrete clouds growing and calving...and stampeding here and there as the day wore on. Impending 'retirement' and homelessness, a giant monster that I refuse to see looming on the horizon, never-the-less whispers subliminal threats to my ego (I guess) and causes me to stop out of fascination at scenes loaded with lost purpose. Sgt. Rock alternatively looks for lost treasure that only he can recognize. I've been here before. There are more empties. More bird crap. More graffiti (including an impressive new pornographic triptych). And there is more peeling away of sheetrock skin from brittle wooden ribs. Peering out at the wonde...