Waterfall Wanders
Heat. Haze. Big roving rain clouds. Trails carved out of cliffsides. Waterfalls that drop loudly into deep, green pools. This is the seduction of Oregon in late August. Last weekend, Kelly, Marsha, and I were its victims.
After dealing with real-life bullshit all morning, we gathered at my house midday and drove east into the Columbia Gorge—for that is the province of waterfall hikes. On this day, we chose Eagle Creek Trail, a pretty famous Oregon hike that leads you ramblingly into the wilds by following the Eagle Creek itself.
Now, this trail is part of the Pacific Crest Trail, and as such, we passed tons of "PCTers" on it; all of them friendly, all of them covered in dirt—reeking of moss, earth, and abiding body odor, all of them heading north to Canada as we forged south toward Punchbowl Falls. In comparison, we were just lowly day hikers, carrying—all carefree-like—nothing but water bottles in our hands.
Summer Truths
I made it! By which I mean, I managed to navigate the full mania of summer without injury, insult, or neurotic breakdown. I attended all the skate sessions and barbecues, I swam in all the rivers. In general, I tried to do EVERYTHING, because that's the spirit of summer.
But! As August softly ends like a feather floating to the ground, a quietness is settling over things around here.
Don't hold your hands over your ears and pretend (la, la, la!) that summer's not over. It is (almost), but that's okay.
Tuesday Night Stuff
On a Tuesday night of no particular import, we all went to The Know to watch former pro skater Todd Congelliere play in his latest band, The Underground Railroad to Candyland.
It takes so little, sometimes, to make everyone happy. All the friends. A warm night. A crowded room. Poppy punk played pretty loud.
I can't speak for anyone else, but personally I felt transported back to the '90s ... in a good way. Crowd surfing and college rock and complete and utter living in the moment.
All I'm saying is, you shoulda been there.
Lifestyle Adjustment
There's no such thing as how things should be—there's just how thing's are.
I read that recently. It's true.
This morning I was thinking ... it's cool how when you have a dog, you're forced into securing a life that has plentiful helpings of outdoors and physical activity, of simplicity, of kinda semi regular schedules involving not staying out til 4 a.m. (and then sleeping through the fresh morning when dog walks are best due to the cool air and clouds of just-open blossom scent).
In other words, Lefty—who's both my dog and my dawg—makes me live a good life. Oddly, it's not something I might do (or have done in the past) for myself. It's easier to do something for someone else ...
Stretching our hammies.
Look, I don't want to go to the river every weekend ... but I HAVE to. Because of THIS FACE.
Camping trips, wilderness meanderings, and pondering the void with my bud.