Nature

Sherars Falls, Oregon, a historic Native fishing ground

 

Anglers cast for spring Chinook on the Deschutes River, at a spot managed by the Warm Springs Indian Reservation (2014).
The Deschutes River smashes through a fishing ground managed by the Warm Springs Indian Reservation (2014).
Anglers cast for spring Chinook on the Deschutes River, at a spot managed by the Warm Springs Indian Reservation (2014).
Platforms erected by tribal fishermen line the Deschutes River, at a spot managed by the Confederated Tribes of Warm Springs (2014). When I visited the first week of June 2014, spring Chinook were running.

For those who have never lived in the Northwest or fished, the significance of fishing to the region historically cannot be underestimated. Fishing is a unifying force among many diverse groups, a source of economic development for many small communities, and a cultural and historic legacy for Native Americans.

Fishing rights granted in treaties signed by the U.S. Government with tribes in Oregon and Washington remain in legal force. So-called “fishing wars” and “fish-ins” involved nonviolent and at times near-confrontational encounters among Native fishing activists seeking to reclaim fishing rights granted to them in treaties. These disputes attracted national attention. All of this culminated in the 1974 Boldt Decision that restored those rights in Washington State, and earlier with the Belloni Decision, in 1969, in Oregon. (Click on the Boldt Decision link to get a quick dose on this complex Northwest issue from a paper I wrote a few years back.)

Today, there are fewer fish, mostly salmon, because of decades of hydroelectric dam use on the Columbia River water system and development, but there is also shared management of the fisheries. Sherars Falls, on the Deschutes River, is a historic fishing area managed by the Confederated Tribes of Warm Springs, as provided by treaty rights. I saw lots of tribal fishermen here this week, along with sports fishermen, who pay a daily fee to the tribe. Though developed, with a major railway, power lines, and roads, it is still wild, and the thrashing of Chinook caught on a line is one of the greatest things to experience. And this was really one of the most beautiful places I have visited in a while.

(Click on each photo for a larger picture on a separate picture page.)

In celebration of running: something that totally changed my life

Today I read a story about someone I once knew who met a tragic fate. It was a piercing experience, as a whirlwind of memories came back to a time in my life when I made some absolutely critical life decisions how I wanted to pursue my precious time on this planet, how I wanted to be as a person, and what I wanted to achieve. Nothing turned my life around in the right direction more positively and more purposefully than running. Everything seemed to change after I picked up this activity that I continue to this day, despite gaggles of injuries over the years (who cares). It is wonderful to look back at critical moments and realize, excellent choice. Well done.

My smart choice was getting my first pair of terrible running shoes and hitting the pavement (I ran on pavement for years) when I was 15 years old, a sophomore in high school. All of this led to so many positive things, including being able to run across the Grand Canyon in September 2005 with an old UNC-CH grad school roommate, Jeff. Jeff did a rim-to-rim-to-rim (R2R2R) dash, south to north to south. I met him on the north rim and did an R2R. We lucked out and got a cabin just days before we were scheduled to run. We had perfect weather. Jeff and his family were gracious hosts to me in Flagstaff. And so funny to think, this kind of transformative event, with a phenomenal colleague, was the result of me deciding to do some smart things at the right time. Here’s to wisdom and rewards it may bring. Thank yourself for being smart. You may be smarter than you think.

Camera note: all of these are simple point and shoot photos taken with my consumer grade Canon digital. I punched up the contrast, a look I like. This post is more about the experience and emotions and less about the pixels and striving for art. (Click on each photo to see larger pictures in separate picture pages.)

The John Wayne Trail … it’s alright

Today I biked one of my favorite off-road trails, the John Wayne Trail. The trail itself runs 100 miles. The ride I normally do on the trail, from Rattlesnake Reservoir near North Bend, outside Seattle, to the old train tunnel at Snoqualmie Pass, is 36 glorious, smooth off-road miles and an excellent way to see some of the front range of the still snowy Cascades. Good for running and even horseback riding too. Yes indeed, it is very much alright!

The Yukon Territory in the early morning

 

I took this standing on a bridge, along the Al-Can Highway in 2010. It is a beautiful and hard place. I always loved my travels there.

Twenty-two years ago I first came “into the country” to Alaska via the Al-Can Highway through the Yukon Territory. This was taken in 2010. The scenery is beautiful, and the land is harsh, and the mosquitos plentiful, and the economics mostly mining in these parts. (Click on the picture to see a larger photo on a picture page.)

Iris blooms now taking center stage
The irises this year bloomed exactly a week earlier than in 2013. That is interesting.
The iris is a damn seductive flower, almost tawdry in its wilting, rich, dark petals dropping down (2014).
This was shot in my front yard, which is now covered with these amazing flowers (2014).

Irises give tulips a damn good run for the money. I wonder what pollinators think? They probably love those pollen rich pistils to get all crazy about and do the pollen dance.

View of Vista House, Columbia River Gorge
It was the 96th birthday party of Vista House the day I took this shot (May 4, 2014). This is just a great perch, and one visited by tens of thousands annually.

 

I used my consumer-grade Canon digital for this shot. Sure, I am a tourist, but this is one of the premier views of the Pacific Northwest, from the scenic highway along the Columbia River Gorge, about 30 miles west of Portland, Ore. Sometimes, having fun and having a good memory is what matters. (Click on the image for a larger picture on a separate page.)

Raindrops keep falling, and falling, and falling
Droplets collect on a smoke tree’s leaves in Seattle (2012).
Droplets collect on a smoke tree’s leaves in Seattle (2012).

We have had a lot of rain lately in Seattle. Nothing unusual, but just about everyday now for a couple of weeks. So water is on my mind, and how water responds to surfaces, from metal to plants to the body. So, naturally, I dug up a couple of water and rain photos I shot about a year and a half ago. I particularly love the effect of surface tension when water droplets form on surfaces when it rains. (Click on each photo for a larger image on a separate picture page.)

God’s home, at the edge of the world
North of Reykjavik sits a house of God, alone in the loneliness of the north Atlantic.

I visited Iceland in 1998 and did a drive around the island with an outrageously overpriced rental car. I enjoyed it, but was not overwhelmed by it. This location, about an hour north of the capital, Reykjavik, was among the most memorable spots. Here, at the edge of the world, sat an empty house of worship, battered by the wind and rain. I guess I have a fondness for remote sanctuaries. (Click on the photo for a larger image on a separate page.)

Kayaking in Prince William Sound

In July 2010, I took a fabulous and sometimes soggy kayaking trip to Blackstone Bay, in Prince William Sound, one of the most amazingly beautiful landscapes in the world. I went with my former neighbors, J & D, and benefited from their years of wisdom gained paddling as a team. There are few better ways to cut yourself off from technology, enjoy life’s precious moments, and feel humbled by natural beauty. (All of these were taken with a small hand-held Canon, converted to B&W using Lightroom.)

Getting ready to launch on day two of a great kayaking adventure in Prince William Sound, Alaska (2010).
A quiet moment in Blackstone Bay, in Prince William Sound (2010).
Kayaking in Blackstone Bay, in Prince William Sound (2010).