...........boy, was I wrong.
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Friday, October 31, 2008
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
San Jose Science Conference
I wasn’t REALLY lost, I was just disoriented for an inordinate amount of time. Lucky for me there was food nearby. I was going to eat at a place with the name of ‘Mary Ann’s Diner’ but when I looked in I didn’t see anyone that looked like a Mary Ann, so I went to a real Chinese diner.
For some reason I get disoriented whenever I’m in a big city. I should know enough to take my GPS. Welcome to my first evening in San Jose to attend a science conference.
The plane from Crescent City took off 2 hours 40 minutes late due to the fog in Crescent City. The flight was pretty uneventful. That’s a good thing. It seems like it’s always an adventure when I go by myself, but I feel I did pretty good. I find that reading signs and asking directions are pretty helpful instead of bulling my way through.
I couldn’t bring myself to spend $100 for a cab to San Jose, or even $60 for a shuttle so I spent $5.75 to ride the train. It was very relaxing. The only stress I felt was almost falling asleep because it was so quiet.
For some reason I get disoriented whenever I’m in a big city. I should know enough to take my GPS. Welcome to my first evening in San Jose to attend a science conference.
The plane from Crescent City took off 2 hours 40 minutes late due to the fog in Crescent City. The flight was pretty uneventful. That’s a good thing. It seems like it’s always an adventure when I go by myself, but I feel I did pretty good. I find that reading signs and asking directions are pretty helpful instead of bulling my way through.
I couldn’t bring myself to spend $100 for a cab to San Jose, or even $60 for a shuttle so I spent $5.75 to ride the train. It was very relaxing. The only stress I felt was almost falling asleep because it was so quiet.
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Tuesday, October 07, 2008
A trip to Klamath River
“Let’s go make more memories.” So generally starts the planning for a camping/hunting/fishing trip. Andrew and I just got back from 2-1/2 days over on the Klamath River. I wish all of the family had been able to go, but I do admit, it was kind of rough. Randy, Andrew, and I went over there last fall about this time and had a great time. This year when we left it was raining here in Crescent City, and up in the hills east of town it was raining and blowing. We went up Patrick’s Creek looking for deer. We did quite a bit of walking in the rain and wind, but saw no deer. All we saw were hunters, lots of them. So, we cut over on the Toll Road to O'Brien. No, there is no longer a toll road, but at one time about 100 years ago it was a private road and thus a toll could be exacted, or rather extracted by the owners. The fall colors were stellar and just beginning to come on. We were no more than 2 miles out of Del Norte County and we saw our first deer, the first of many more by the end of the trip.
We arrived at Ladd Road about 2:00 in the afternoon. This is the road near Seiad Valley where mom and dad had a mining claim on, and Chuck and I spent many happy summers as children. Walker Gulch is the name of the creek where we never did remove a speck of gold, but we did take many happy memories. Looking back, camping trips that I’ve been on with Randy and Andrew have nothing on the ‘rough factor’ we spent with mom camping on the river. We would take daily 6 mile walks to go to the store and check the mail and mom would reward us by buying Chuck and I an ice cream bar. Long after Chuck and I stopped going mom would still visit the claim and I’m sure make those same daily walks.
This time we didn’t stop at Walker Gulch, but drove on by. I did glance over to check and make sure that our name was still visibly carved in a tree marking the claim as forever ours even though it has since gone back into the ownership of the U.S. Forest Service. We slowed at the bend in the river and were disappointed to see another pickup parked there. I know that both Andrew and I had planned to camp there, but wouldn’t if another car was there. Things happen for a reason, and sometimes it’s “not worth pushing water uphill.” We continued up the dirt road past a point that I had ever been to before. Eventually, the road got rougher and narrower and dropped down to the 20 acre gravel bar about 4 miles upriver from where we had planned to camp. I have seen this gravel bar ever since I first started going over there with mom and Chuck, but had never been to it before. I remember seeing parts of huge gold mining equipment there. Now, we were there standing on the remnants of the past, looking at this, our new favorite place to come in the future. The riffle sweeping by the bank looked every bit as good as any of our other favorite places just downstream.
By Saturday night we had seen about 30 deer including two spikes, but no legal bucks, During the day we had to drive back into the thriving metropolis of Seiad Valley (population 27) for me to call in sub plans. On the way in we saw an older lady with white hair walking briskly along Ladd Road toward Seiad, I remarked to Andrew how much she reminded me of my mom. As we passed I noticed she had a walking stick and was wearing dark glasses, looking very much like what my mom looked like. We waved as we passed and she pleasantly smiled back at us. The thoughts and memories of my mom became even more special and I think that she would be happy for Sandi and I, as I was showing our kids a little bit of the joy she shared with us. Not much has changed, if anything there is a bit less traffic although there are a few more houses. Dreams are still being dreamed and life is still being lived.
We had a nocturnal visitor about 4:00 in the morning. We were awoken up by the sound of something sliding down the tent with a coarse dragging sound. I heard it very well as my head was about 10” from the side of the tent. We both got up and looked around the tent, but our visitor was long gone. The only evidence was two clumps of sand still on the side of the tent and the prints of a large bear with long claws imprinted next to the tent.
About this time I’d like to add something like this....On our return trip back to our campsite we again came up to the lady walking to Seiad. She had been walking pretty fast, and now seeing her better, as we drove down the road toward her I realized that she really did look my mom would have looked walking down one of her favorite roads. I was just about ready to tell Andrew to stop and say hello to the lady, but when as we came to within about 20 feet of her she disappeared into a wisp of vapor and the walking stick she was using clattered to the ground with a puff of dust left as a reminder of what I had just seen. Slowly, we drove by not saying a word to each other, each wondering if we had really seen what we had just witnessed…...but it didn’t actually happen, just a recollection of the past.
We arrived at Ladd Road about 2:00 in the afternoon. This is the road near Seiad Valley where mom and dad had a mining claim on, and Chuck and I spent many happy summers as children. Walker Gulch is the name of the creek where we never did remove a speck of gold, but we did take many happy memories. Looking back, camping trips that I’ve been on with Randy and Andrew have nothing on the ‘rough factor’ we spent with mom camping on the river. We would take daily 6 mile walks to go to the store and check the mail and mom would reward us by buying Chuck and I an ice cream bar. Long after Chuck and I stopped going mom would still visit the claim and I’m sure make those same daily walks.
This time we didn’t stop at Walker Gulch, but drove on by. I did glance over to check and make sure that our name was still visibly carved in a tree marking the claim as forever ours even though it has since gone back into the ownership of the U.S. Forest Service. We slowed at the bend in the river and were disappointed to see another pickup parked there. I know that both Andrew and I had planned to camp there, but wouldn’t if another car was there. Things happen for a reason, and sometimes it’s “not worth pushing water uphill.” We continued up the dirt road past a point that I had ever been to before. Eventually, the road got rougher and narrower and dropped down to the 20 acre gravel bar about 4 miles upriver from where we had planned to camp. I have seen this gravel bar ever since I first started going over there with mom and Chuck, but had never been to it before. I remember seeing parts of huge gold mining equipment there. Now, we were there standing on the remnants of the past, looking at this, our new favorite place to come in the future. The riffle sweeping by the bank looked every bit as good as any of our other favorite places just downstream.
By Saturday night we had seen about 30 deer including two spikes, but no legal bucks, During the day we had to drive back into the thriving metropolis of Seiad Valley (population 27) for me to call in sub plans. On the way in we saw an older lady with white hair walking briskly along Ladd Road toward Seiad, I remarked to Andrew how much she reminded me of my mom. As we passed I noticed she had a walking stick and was wearing dark glasses, looking very much like what my mom looked like. We waved as we passed and she pleasantly smiled back at us. The thoughts and memories of my mom became even more special and I think that she would be happy for Sandi and I, as I was showing our kids a little bit of the joy she shared with us. Not much has changed, if anything there is a bit less traffic although there are a few more houses. Dreams are still being dreamed and life is still being lived.
We had a nocturnal visitor about 4:00 in the morning. We were awoken up by the sound of something sliding down the tent with a coarse dragging sound. I heard it very well as my head was about 10” from the side of the tent. We both got up and looked around the tent, but our visitor was long gone. The only evidence was two clumps of sand still on the side of the tent and the prints of a large bear with long claws imprinted next to the tent.
About this time I’d like to add something like this....On our return trip back to our campsite we again came up to the lady walking to Seiad. She had been walking pretty fast, and now seeing her better, as we drove down the road toward her I realized that she really did look my mom would have looked walking down one of her favorite roads. I was just about ready to tell Andrew to stop and say hello to the lady, but when as we came to within about 20 feet of her she disappeared into a wisp of vapor and the walking stick she was using clattered to the ground with a puff of dust left as a reminder of what I had just seen. Slowly, we drove by not saying a word to each other, each wondering if we had really seen what we had just witnessed…...but it didn’t actually happen, just a recollection of the past.
Monday, October 06, 2008
The fall
Last weekend was the first weekend of a fall time tradition, or maybe, as in years past, a fall time necessity. Granted, now it is not so much a necessity, but rather something that signals a primordial brain response that says, now is the time to start preparing for winter. It is the time to provide sustenance for the family, to take the club down from its cradle above the door and go out and provide meat for the family for the winter. It is time to catch the deer being active prior to their reduced wintertime routine. Last weekend was the first weekend of deer hunting season.
I believe in the sanctity of life and thus revere it and recognize it is a gift from our Maker. That being said, the idea of idea of hunting and killing a deer is almost an oxymoron to my previous belief. Then, why in the name of Safeway, Rays, and shrink-wrapped meat do we need to go out hunting? Just that, in the age of convenience, Saran Wrap, and processing there is a certain thing lost. That thing is the idea of the fact that someone had to kill and process that shrink-wrapped steak that we choose from the meat counter in the store; separation of responsibility to the taking of an animal’s life.
I feel by me taking part in the process, it forces me to recognize the fact that even though I may buy meat at the store an animal had to die to provide my sustenance. By me going out fishing or hunting I am putting myself closer to the food chain and to recognize that I am part of it. Dust to dust, that’s what I believe. I cannot separate myself from the fact that I am an integral part of a larger process, and as in the water that I drink, some organic based organism has taken in, processed, and expelled that water before. Maybe it was a dinosaur, or maybe another human being, but it has been cycled through nature before. We do live in a closed system.
Hunting allows me to appreciate nature as its elemental level, a level at which all too often I am too far removed. I am part of the cycle and part of the process of life. The fall is a time of beauty, a time of regeneration where nature is throwing off seasonal appearances and showing off a new look. Hunting season is a time where nature is pushing out its final rush of chlorophyll on those warm fall days and with its final fading gasp it is showing the hidden underlying colors it has for so long cloaked under the green of the leaves. Just after the last chlorophyll rises to the leaves the leaves release their grip on life and fall to the ground to provide a layer of insulation and nutrients to the forest floor for the next organism to use.
And thus starts another life
I believe in the sanctity of life and thus revere it and recognize it is a gift from our Maker. That being said, the idea of idea of hunting and killing a deer is almost an oxymoron to my previous belief. Then, why in the name of Safeway, Rays, and shrink-wrapped meat do we need to go out hunting? Just that, in the age of convenience, Saran Wrap, and processing there is a certain thing lost. That thing is the idea of the fact that someone had to kill and process that shrink-wrapped steak that we choose from the meat counter in the store; separation of responsibility to the taking of an animal’s life.
I feel by me taking part in the process, it forces me to recognize the fact that even though I may buy meat at the store an animal had to die to provide my sustenance. By me going out fishing or hunting I am putting myself closer to the food chain and to recognize that I am part of it. Dust to dust, that’s what I believe. I cannot separate myself from the fact that I am an integral part of a larger process, and as in the water that I drink, some organic based organism has taken in, processed, and expelled that water before. Maybe it was a dinosaur, or maybe another human being, but it has been cycled through nature before. We do live in a closed system.
Hunting allows me to appreciate nature as its elemental level, a level at which all too often I am too far removed. I am part of the cycle and part of the process of life. The fall is a time of beauty, a time of regeneration where nature is throwing off seasonal appearances and showing off a new look. Hunting season is a time where nature is pushing out its final rush of chlorophyll on those warm fall days and with its final fading gasp it is showing the hidden underlying colors it has for so long cloaked under the green of the leaves. Just after the last chlorophyll rises to the leaves the leaves release their grip on life and fall to the ground to provide a layer of insulation and nutrients to the forest floor for the next organism to use.
And thus starts another life
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