Oregon

Sunset on the Oregon Coast Trail

April 16, 2018 By John Keatley Leave a Comment

During our visit to Oregon this fall, we stayed at the Heceta Lighthouse B&B. On my way back down the trail from photographing the Heceta Head Lighthouse, I spotted an Oregon Coast Trail sign on side of a post. The trail turned toward the Pacific Ocean before reaching the B&B. It was nearing sunset and time for our group’s scheduled dinner.

I threw caution into the wind – there is plenty of wind at Heceta Head – and decided to try and reach the beach on the Oregon Coast Trail for what I hoped would be a great sunset photo opportunity.

Heceta Head from the Oregon Coast Trail — Looking down on the Heceta Head Lighthouse from the Oregon Coast Trail

After a couple of long switchbacks, I stood on an almost deserted beach. The clouds may have obscured my sunset photo, but the light illuminating them and reflecting off the beach and water made the trip worthwhile. I may never get to hike the rest of the 382-mile Oregon Coast Trail, but this short visit was a perfect glimpse into the beauty and the ruggedness of the trail.

Here’s an overview of the Heceta Lighthouse B&B, the connecting Oregon Coast Trail, the lighthouse, and the beach.

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Heceta Lighthouse B&B Oregon Coast Trail

Foraging for Mushrooms in Oregon

October 31, 2017 By Sandra Friend Leave a Comment

1st Place, 2017 Excellence in Craft Awards
Florida Outdoor Writers Association

As we arrived for a bike ride in Estacada, Oregon, we couldn’t help but notice the big banner across one of the downtown streets: “Festival of the Fungus.” Having never heard of a fungus festival, our curiosity was piqued. Especially after a stop in Mossy Rock, the nature shop colorfully decorated with a mural depicting every possible way you could enjoy a trail in the area, from camping to whitewater rafting to birding. We’d stumbled across an Oregon trail town.

In the window of Mossy Rock, a garden of glass mushrooms sprouted, a cornucopia of sizes and colors. Photos and photo cards of mushrooms filled the walls. In browsing for a book on local botany, I came across the broadest selection of books of mushrooms I’d ever seen. Proprietor Marilyn O’Grady – who moved to this former logging town to work for Audubon, and then opened the nature shop with her husband more than a dozen years ago – practically beamed as she pointed out botanical art by friends and family. “My husband is out photographing mushrooms right now,” she said.

Lots of books on mushrooms in Estacada — Lots of books on mushrooms at Mossy Rock

Photographing is one thing. But you do not just walk into the woods and start plucking mushrooms. First, many are poisonous, and it’s critical to know the difference. Second, you need a permit. And so we went to the Clackamas River Ranger District just up the road to sign up for our free use Mushroom Permit from the US Forest Service. The ranger solemnly handed us a photocopied map of where we could and couldn’t go. The permit has 23 conditions, ranging from harvest limits (1 gallon per person per day) to holding the USFS harmless if your mushrooms kill you.

We wouldn’t dare go mushroom hunting without a guide. The trip we’d signed up for included one: Tours With Steve. A seasoned explorer, forestry grad, and horticulturist, Steve Schmidt has an obvious passion for his favorite subject matter. We met him behind Mossy Rock to follow him up into the mountains to where the mushrooms grow. Mt. St. Helens was visible in the distance as pavement turned to gravel and the dense coniferous forest swallowed us.

In a clearing, our group split in two after Steve provided an introduction to mushrooms, filled with new to us facts. For instance, there is a vast below-ground network of threadlike mycelium from which mushrooms emerge, and the mushrooms are the fruiting bodies of it. A student of mycelium, Steve suggested that it senses movement in the forest, from a fall of a leaf to a footfall. My long held assumption that mushrooms provided no nutrients to a meal was overturned. “They’re packed with protein,” Steve said, and gave an example of Russian peasants supplementing their diets with mushrooms eaten on meatless Fridays.

We first walked with naturalist Diana Reeck, a retired nursery owner who patiently answered our “what’s that?” questions as we strolled down a forest road, of everything from the towering Douglas firs, weeping spruce, and western hemlock to the tiny club-moss and frog’s-belly lichen. She showed us an unappealing but edible slimy, milky lacera, and mustard-colored deadly poisonous mushrooms right by our van, as well as dozens of others. She pointed out the difference of pores vs gills on a mushroom, and how the “false chanterelle” or aurantiaca had a hollow core.

Leah Bendlin takes us mushroom hunting — Leah and John show off their edible fungal finds

Before her colleague Leah Bendlin led us into the woods to do actual foraging, a safety check was in order. We wore bright orange and yellow – the better to spot each other, and for hunters to see us – and carried whistles. She also instituted a “whoop whoop” call for the group to answer. As we quickly found out, diving into the dense underbrush of this coniferous forest, we could lose sight of each other just a few feet away. She pointed to where the sun was and noted we’d need the sun to our backs to emerge on the road again. Mushroom hunters get lost a lot, the USFS ranger had told us, and one had just been found after five days in the woods.

Hood River National Forest is very dense — We go where there are no trails, and the forest is dense (John Keatley)

We stuck close to Leah, clambering over logs and pushing through dense brush. Sometimes she’d point out the clusters of chanterelles, and sometimes we found them ourselves. We showed her many other smaller and more delicate mushrooms, but none were worthy of the bucket, and a few were poisonous.

Leah looking for mushrooms in the leaf litter

I stopped to remove my fleece, and in bushwhacking, realized I’d left my camera on a stump. In a panic, I mentally retraced the route I’d taken and managed to find it. Soon after, John found Leah’s radio, which snagged on a log. Pushing through this dry trackless thicket was way harder than hiking Big Cypress. “I’ll pay for my mushrooms next time,” he said, hurting but grinning.

The bushwhacking eased up as the forest became less dense and we could see the road we’d come in on. We paralleled it and were rewarded with some fine finds. It didn’t take long to max out our limit – assuming it was volume, not weight – and walk back up the road, grateful it wasn’t rainy, wet, or slippery out.

A bucket of chantarelles — A bucket of the good stuff!

While eating lunch at Granny’s afterwards and talking about our foraging, the man at the next table – who was taking his grandson out for a birthday milkshake -put forth the main reason you don’t want to head off on your own without knowing what you’re doing. “I wouldn’t do that. My mom went to school with a lady whose mother was sick for three weeks after eating a mushroom!”

Our expert-blessed mushrooms passed muster that evening. After all, with chanterelles selling for $15/lb and our permit allowing personal use only, what else would we do but eat them? At the Resort at the Mountain, the chef at Altitude prepared them three ways: pickled, sautéed, and simmered in a Marsala sauce. We enjoyed them all, but the Marsala won hands down

The Festival of the Fungus happens the first Saturday of November in Estacada. Find out more at http://estacadafungusassociation.org

Aloft

October 26, 2017 By Sandra Friend Leave a Comment

Mount Hood as seen on the approach to PDX

Turbulence shook my eyes open as I’d faded off to sleep somewhere over the Rockies, 12 hours into a day of cross-country transit. I looked out the window and saw the enormous expanse of canyon below, and woke John to see it too.

Millions of people ply the skies daily, going from A to B and back again. As we stood in the cold blackness before dawn today, waiting for the shuttle from parking lot to airport, a fellow passenger stood shivering in short sleeves in the first bitter wind of the season. We cursed our luck to be missing Florida’s first blast of fall. She wouldn’t, but she’d be buying a sweatshirt as soon as she found one. Her mission for the day was to fly to Atlanta, sign papers, and fly home.

“The ticket was cheaper than the lawyer fee for a power of attorney,” she said, traveling only with a daypack and with only one plan in mind. She’d be home before dinner.

As fate would have it, our seat mate turned out to be a fascinating fellow, so he and John swapped stories for four hours while I dove in and out of reading an equally fascinating book, which did not require me to be able to pick out conversation over the roar of the engine. But I looked up now and then, to interject and to marvel. At one juncture, we paralleled undeveloped beaches on the Gulf Coast, and I wondered where. At another, we were above a vast delta. As we drew close to Denver, the snowcapped peaks of the Rockies loomed large.

Switching planes and seatmates, part two had us cruising well over the Rockies and the Great Basin. The volcanic formation of the West is so very obvious from on high. Were we over the Grand Canyon when I awoke? It seemed like it. Deeply carved rock stretched on forever.

I thought about the millions in transit on this clear day, each in that miraculous device that the Wright Brothers dared to dream would pull our roots from the earth and let us go. Around us, people played video games, watched movies, read books, slept. The miracle of flight has become routine, expected, a commodity.

Being able to see our planet from 30,000 feet is a special gift, to marvel at the vastness of landscape from the vastness of the sky. We don’t do it often – certainly not cross-continent – but each time we do, I treasure the time aloft, a chance to find perspective if you seek it.

PDX Airport Portland — Feet on the ground at PDX

Taking on Portland’s 4T

June 2, 2014 By Sandra Friend Leave a Comment

Portland 4T signage — Colorful signs lead you along the 4T in Portland

While making plans to visit Portland this winter, I asked friends who’d been there as to the best places to visit outdoors. Everyone had the Columbia River Gorge at the top of their list, of course, followed by other local hot spots like Mount St. Helens and the Pacific Crest Trail, which crosses the Columbia River east of the city at Columbia Locks. But they all said “it’s the wrong season for hiking! Go later!”

Columbia River Gorge at Multnomah Falls — Two days before we did the 4T, it looked like this in the Gorge

We didn’t have a choice. With a meeting to attend, we’d be staying downtown at the historic Multnomah Hotel, now the Embassy Suites. We looked into the city parks, but none seemed easy to reach on foot. And then our friend Doug said, “Have you heard about the 4T?”

Washington Park Four T route and map — Detailed sign about the route at Washington Park

A little online research did the trick. The 4T is a trifecta of transportation – train, trolley, and tram – linked together with a four mile hiking trail to make a loop around Southwest Portland. Connecting Washington Park – home of the Oregon Zoo and Hoyt Arboretum – with the city’s high point at Council Crest, it looked to be a fine way to get to know Portland on foot.

Portland 4T map online — Map we found online and printed off to guide us

We’d already had five days to get used to city streets and transportation routes, so it was an easy walk to find the correct Tri-Met train to Washington Park, which we caught in front of Pioneer Courthouse Square after buying all-day passes. Either the Blue or Red Line would do.

Waiting for Max to start the Portland 4T

Disembarking deep in the bowels of the earth at the Washington Park Station, we got to peek at core samples taken from when the tunnel was bored. At 260 feet below ground, it’s the deepest subway tunnel in America.

A high-speed elevator brought us to the surface, where it opened to face the World Forestry Center. I was instantly distracted by the idea of learning more about Oregon’s forests before we hiked into them, so we headed into the nature center.

World Forestry Center Portland — Inside the World Forestry Center

The Hoyt Arboretum was right next door, so we hiked up its hills to stand among the giant trees. With no lunch stop within sight, we decided to visit the Oregon Zoo to grab a bite – and spent the next hour walking around looking at native animals.

Oregon Zoo in Washington Park — Had to get ourselves acquainted with the Great Northwest

So much for an auspicious start!

The next morning, we left immediately after breakfast and headed back up the Tri-Met to Washington Park, this time following the signs pointing us in the correction direction, past the zoo, to the 4T Trail.

Portland 4T signpost near the zoo — The first of many signposts we’d be following

Crossing a busy highway on a bridge, it led us along the edge of an on-ramp and plunged into moss-covered trees, up a mucky slope. Now we were getting somewhere. I’d wished we’d brought our hiking poles, to navigate the muck and to handle steep slopes. So we walked very gingerly on this new-to-us slippery terrain.

Finally getting into the woods — The trees in Portland are HUGE!

I was thankful I’d printed out a map, as we referred to it often. The trail utilizes steep slopes that haven’t been built on, little slivers of green space between roads and homes.

Portland 4T signs through neighborhoods — Following signs through a residential neighborhood

After a little walk through a residential neighborhood, it led us straight up to Council Crest, so named as a high point where native tribes were thought to have met. In more recent history, it was topped with an amusement park in the early 1900s, at the end of a streetcar line.

Portland 4T Council Crest — Atop Council Crest. On a clear day you can see three of the Cascades.

For us, it meant we had nowhere to go but down. Fortunately, the trail was well marked, and remained a footpath for the rest of the route. In some spots, we walked right behind people’s homes; in others, the trail entered deep ravines under the deep shade of enormous spruce trees. It was hard to believe we were in a city.

Big spruce on the Portland 4T — One of the big spruces along the route

Portland 4T urban forest — Hard to believe you’re in a city

Reaching Marquam Nature Park, we realized from the signage that there would be one steep climb ahead, up to OHSU, a hospital complex on a high bluff above downtown.

Took a break at the Marquam Shelter — Marquam-Shelter-Portland-4T

The trail snaked its way up the hill on switchbacks and led us right into the hospital complex – and, unexpectedly, into the hospital itself. It was here we caught the tram, the third component of the 4T.

Portland 4T enters OHSU — The trail led us right into the hospital to the aerial tram

This aerial tram is an integral part of the transportation system in Portland, the only way to easily connect people living and working atop the bluffs to the riverside community of South Portland. Riding it downhill was free.

Aerial tram on Portland 4T — Aerial tram on the Portland 4T

It wasn’t obvious where the trolley stop was that we were supposed to catch next, although the trolley tracks went right past the tram station.

Trolley station and aerial tram — The tram station and its transportation options

We walked a block and jumped on the trolley, only to discover it looped around again and went past the tram station a different way. No matter: we were headed towards the Cultural District, which we knew was within walking distance of our hotel. It also allowed us to visit the Oregon History Museum before we finished up our day.

Trolley portion of Portland 4T — Trolley portion of the Portland 4T

Trolley stop on the Portland 4T — One of the stops along the trolley route

Our adventure cost us $10 in transportation fare for two and five hours of our time. Some might complete it more quickly, but we were soaking it all in. We took our time, of course, and got rained on along the way, as we expected. But the 4T helped us see far more of Portland up close than we would have if we’d just driven around, and it gave us a taste of the forests that we’d soon be exploring beyond these urban bounds.

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Winging it at the Astoria Column

March 20, 2014 By John Keatley Leave a Comment

Orienting yourself at the Astoria Column

Perched high on a hill above Astoria, Oregon is a beautiful and intricate memorial built in 1925. It is the westernmost and last of a series of historical markers commemorating the westward migration of American pioneers. Like a lighthouse, you can climb to the top of it through a spiral staircase inside and enjoy the view.

The-Astoria-Column — The Astoria Column has intricate scenes carved on it commemorating historic milestones for westward migration

Sandy started the 164 steps to the top as I went to pay $2 parking fee. After the lady in the gift shop presented me with my ticket, she continued to assemble little balsa wood airplanes, like the ones I remembered from my youth. They simply slide together without glue, and have a small weight in the nose.

When I questioned her about she was doing, she pointed to a huge box filled with dozens of assembled planes. They sell them for $1 each for people to throw off the top of the column.

“Wait a minute, you let people throw them from the top?” I asked. I’ve never been any place where they willingly let you throw things off a building. Much less provide you with something to throw off.

While admiring the view, I found myself looking for little balsa wood planes on the grounds. It wasn’t long before I had found the remains of many, on the grass and tucked into the hedges.

Once they introduced the planes, they noticed that the litter around the park was less. Why would you chunk a piece of wadded-up paper over the edge when you can watch your little plane fly from this high point and glide for 125 feet or more before returning to the ground. They are biodegradable so they just rot and return to the earth.

So the next time you find yourself in Astoria, drive up the “San Francisco” steep roads to the top of Coxcomb Hill (elevation 600 feet) and see how far your balsa glider can go. For a few dollars, the view is spectacular, and watching your glider soaring across the landscape will be priceless.

I don’t believe that there’s any rule against retrieving your plane, climbing back to the top and launching another flight. So if your knees and legs are up to it, feel free!

Learn more about the Astoria Column

Looking north at the Columbia River from the Astoria Column

Looking west towards the Pacific Ocean and Fort Clatsop

Biking Portland

March 18, 2014 By John Keatley Leave a Comment

Being in America’s Bicycle Capital, I decided to venture out and see just what it’s all about.

As we arrived at our hotel, I was fascinated by all the bicycles. They were everywhere! They belong on the roads here. Bikes of every shape and kind, from high-end carbon fibers to vintage bikes that are set up as delivery vehicles.

I went out early one morning in search of a bike rental shop. Arriving at the first one before 10 AM, I found out that they weren’t open yet. Portland is such an interesting city, that I didn’t mind. I just continued walking, enjoying the eclectic mix of buildings and people.

Americas Bicycle Capital mural — Mural outside our hotel window. It was a sign.

The next rental shop that I came to was open so I stepped inside. I explained that I was just visiting but wanted to experience their bike-friendly city. I didn’t reveal my cycling background. I just said that I wanted to experience some place that was so bike-friendly.

Bike rental shop in Portland — Looking for a bike rental shop in Portland

A little while later, I pushed my vintage single speed out the door and headed for the loop along the river. Not being the ‘navigator’ of the two of us I missed a turn, and the bike path.

The next thing I know I’m riding on a narrow, twisty pathway between dwellings and the river. Somehow I missed a turn. One wrong move would have meant an ugly fall to the river.

Realizing that this wasn’t a fun place to ride I began my search for the ‘real’ bike path. I had noticed bikes and pedestrians on a big red bridge. I decided to find my way there. Leaving the waterfront I found the Amtrak rails between me and the ramp for the bridge.

Luckily, I spotted a stairway to the bridge. Half way up the steps I was wondering if I was lucky at all. My single speed steel bike weighed a ton! Our aluminum tandem bicycle back home probably would have been lighter.

Bike meet staircase in Portland — Bike, meet staircase. I had to haul it up there.

Once across the bridge, I stayed in the bike lane, searching for some marker or sign to direct me to the loop I had planned on riding. With no luck finding a marked route, I turned around and returned across the bridge.

I never found my way back to the route I had planned to ride. But I did have a nice ride, and a heck of a workout. The farther I got from the riverfront, the hillier it became.

Riding by the Oregon Historical Society Museum — I rode by the history museum, which we visited later on

After two hours on a single-speed bicycle, I was ready for a break and lunch. Finding my way back to the shop in a very roundabout way, I returned the bike.

After lunch I returned to the first bike shop, the one that wasn’t open yet. They gave me a tour of their rental fleet. All new, and with multiple speeds. Bikes with eight-speed internal gears and one with a variable gear device that would do all the shifting for me. But there just wasn’t enough time for me to head out on another ride before meeting Sandy. Perhaps next visit.

Potland is the most bicycle-friendly place I have ever been. Drivers treated me as an equal, sharing the road and often giving me the right-of-way. One reason it was so easy for me to get lost is that there were bike lanes everywhere. Almost every street that I was on had a marked bike lane. It’s wonderful, but confusing when you’re not used to it.

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