"Kinda breezy today"
Remember these words?:
"....let's just hope the wind doesn't blow the "wrong" way. But how often does the wind blow from the north in that country? Alright, now that I said that...it probably blows that way all the time. "
Yep, the wind in the southeast corner of Oregon seems to blow that way fairly steadily. Oh, as well as toward and away from thunderstorms...don't forget the downslope winds...and upslope...oh, and funnels through canyons...um, and any other direction it darn well pleases.
I changed my departure time on the 20th to 1015. 1.) Awake since 0500 and couldn't wait to leave any longer 2.) I finally remembered the time change down there. It turned into a 9.5 hour drive which, as it turns out, was probably mainly due to the small 2-lane highway I was on. Get behind a school bus (happened), an old man doing 20 mph in a 65 (happened), out of state folks missing turns (happened), extreme winds and rain pelting the truck at a 90 degree angle...causes your vehicle to swerve and buck (happened), and just general traffic and small towns (ibid) and you have a looong trip. But, I finally made it to Rome, OR at about 2100. Enough time to find the campground at half size due to construction and many other boaters. I squeezed my tent into an open spot and finally ate my sandwich for dinner. Zach and Paul showed up 30 minutes later and we sat in the back of the truck and drank beer. Nice mellow night.
The next morning was WINDY. And sure enough, it was blowing straight out of the north. Easily 10 mph sustained. We inflated the boats and due to the cluster down on the ramp, carried the raft down there so Paul could row it back up closer to our gear. Then we humped it all down a hill and loaded it up. There were two other groups there launching that morning...one with 17 people and one with 13 people. There were boats, dry bags, coolers, dogs, and general chaos everywhere.
The put in
We launched at 1200 with the large group and bucked the wind for 13 miles....just trying to find a decent campsite.
Zach bucking the wind in farm country
Finally entering into some canyons
Finally found one on a sandbar. Well, it was a little more protected from the wind than upstream...but not much. The kestrel reported 10 mph sustained with 15 mph gusts! That is definitely not very much fun. I am confident this is why horses in a field with steady wind will ripsnort around. I think they just get fed up with their hair blowing all over and running is the only release. We found solace in our tents at least. However, before that, we had to unload our gear, set up an attempted windbreak (it seemed to just create a place the sand could "eddy" into), and cook dinner. Ugh...all I could think about was getting out of the wind and sand. I made the mistake of leaving my rainfly open on the tent for probably 45 minutes...the sand "eddied" in there too sifting through the mesh and creating an elegantly fine layer of sand over everything.
First camp
The next morning wasn't too much better. Still blowing, though only 5 mph sustained and colder. I think it was 45 degrees at 0800 with the air holding a damp feel to it. Hypothermic conditions.
View from my tent at "sand camp"
Happy Tom after a night at sand camp...the face says it all.
The next morning began an operation we'd become very familiar with. Wake up around 0800 or so, laze around (I sat in the tent and wrote in my journal and read) until ready to emerge. Laze around and drink some coffee, then see into a little breakfast around 1000. Following that was taking care of dishes, using the portable head, dismantling camp and loading the boat. Then it was on the river at 1200 (when the weather usually moved in) and float for a couple of miles. I designated myself as the raft's hood ornament...so I perched up front while Paul rowed. Zach confidently set himself up on the 8-foot cataraft (I hope that's the right name for it...I'm not going to look it up) and proceeded to get wet all day.
The oarsmen at work...pay attention to the golden locks on the hills in the background.
Zach's happy in his military surplus "rafting pants."
So on the second day out we made it about 5 miles to a camp where we chose to put up for two nights. Our first (and only) layover day at the aptly named "Sand Spring creek." It was a little hump to get all our gear including the dry box and cooler up to where camp was, but it was out of the wind! We were all very happy since the day was full of wind and rain.
Zach, happy to get to the second camp
For some reason, the bottle of Jameson made an appearance. It turns out we were ALL really grateful to get out of the wind because come morning...we all hurt. Groggy. Staring zombies roaming around camp. Later it broke into a light wind, 68 degrees and very pleasant. Our hangovers subsiding, we went on a hike to eventually break out of the canyon and look across the prairie. Er, desert. Er, scrubland?
We started up the hill and went from sand and sagebrush to volcanic rock. That was it. Strange foreign and surreal...felt like we were on Mars. You could see evidence of lava tubes...where blocks of rock covered fissures and caves. You could see where the cooling lava was calving off like a glacier...forming cracks about 30 feet deep and anywhere from 2 to 6 feet across. One wrong step and you could be in some trouble. At one point I was bending over to pick up a rock and Paul idly says, "Hey Tom, there's a snake to your right." I stood up about to say something smart-ass when I noticed it! First and only snake of the trip! Zach found out later that it was a Pacific Gopher snake, so I'm guessing non poisonous, but it still got me looking at where I was stepping a little more seriously.
Pacific Gopher snake
Then came the cliffs of Mordor. More volcanic rock and an unexpected foe; tumbleweed! Yes, tumbleweed. You could look up the hills and see this golden, almost pretty, stringers of tumbleweed caged up in hollows where the wind couldn't get to it. We found out that it was the kind that was very "brambly" and sharp. Not fun when you're wearing shorts. Paul comically asked, "How deep do you think those are?" I was joking saying, "Oh, probably up to your waist." Thinking nothing of it until we were right up against this impenetrable wall. We finally found a place where we wouldn't have to push too far through it and Paul had the great idea to throw a rock in to test the depth. It never touched the bottom! Some places you could here the rock hit about 15 feet down, other places it just wouldn't make it. If we had just jumped in....that could have been a serious mess! Well, we picked our way across in a safe area and then took in all the nonexistent sights on top the canyon rim.
There is a canyon under all that
Zach, gingerly trying to see bottom
The desolate view from the top of the rim.
The way back down was only marked with the same kind of experience. It was nice to get back to camp and chill, but good to be feeling a little more lucid.
View from my tent at camp two
"....let's just hope the wind doesn't blow the "wrong" way. But how often does the wind blow from the north in that country? Alright, now that I said that...it probably blows that way all the time. "
Yep, the wind in the southeast corner of Oregon seems to blow that way fairly steadily. Oh, as well as toward and away from thunderstorms...don't forget the downslope winds...and upslope...oh, and funnels through canyons...um, and any other direction it darn well pleases.
I changed my departure time on the 20th to 1015. 1.) Awake since 0500 and couldn't wait to leave any longer 2.) I finally remembered the time change down there. It turned into a 9.5 hour drive which, as it turns out, was probably mainly due to the small 2-lane highway I was on. Get behind a school bus (happened), an old man doing 20 mph in a 65 (happened), out of state folks missing turns (happened), extreme winds and rain pelting the truck at a 90 degree angle...causes your vehicle to swerve and buck (happened), and just general traffic and small towns (ibid) and you have a looong trip. But, I finally made it to Rome, OR at about 2100. Enough time to find the campground at half size due to construction and many other boaters. I squeezed my tent into an open spot and finally ate my sandwich for dinner. Zach and Paul showed up 30 minutes later and we sat in the back of the truck and drank beer. Nice mellow night.
The next morning was WINDY. And sure enough, it was blowing straight out of the north. Easily 10 mph sustained. We inflated the boats and due to the cluster down on the ramp, carried the raft down there so Paul could row it back up closer to our gear. Then we humped it all down a hill and loaded it up. There were two other groups there launching that morning...one with 17 people and one with 13 people. There were boats, dry bags, coolers, dogs, and general chaos everywhere.
The put in
We launched at 1200 with the large group and bucked the wind for 13 miles....just trying to find a decent campsite.
Zach bucking the wind in farm country
Finally entering into some canyons
Finally found one on a sandbar. Well, it was a little more protected from the wind than upstream...but not much. The kestrel reported 10 mph sustained with 15 mph gusts! That is definitely not very much fun. I am confident this is why horses in a field with steady wind will ripsnort around. I think they just get fed up with their hair blowing all over and running is the only release. We found solace in our tents at least. However, before that, we had to unload our gear, set up an attempted windbreak (it seemed to just create a place the sand could "eddy" into), and cook dinner. Ugh...all I could think about was getting out of the wind and sand. I made the mistake of leaving my rainfly open on the tent for probably 45 minutes...the sand "eddied" in there too sifting through the mesh and creating an elegantly fine layer of sand over everything.
First camp
The next morning wasn't too much better. Still blowing, though only 5 mph sustained and colder. I think it was 45 degrees at 0800 with the air holding a damp feel to it. Hypothermic conditions.
View from my tent at "sand camp"
Happy Tom after a night at sand camp...the face says it all.
The next morning began an operation we'd become very familiar with. Wake up around 0800 or so, laze around (I sat in the tent and wrote in my journal and read) until ready to emerge. Laze around and drink some coffee, then see into a little breakfast around 1000. Following that was taking care of dishes, using the portable head, dismantling camp and loading the boat. Then it was on the river at 1200 (when the weather usually moved in) and float for a couple of miles. I designated myself as the raft's hood ornament...so I perched up front while Paul rowed. Zach confidently set himself up on the 8-foot cataraft (I hope that's the right name for it...I'm not going to look it up) and proceeded to get wet all day.
The oarsmen at work...pay attention to the golden locks on the hills in the background.
Zach's happy in his military surplus "rafting pants."
So on the second day out we made it about 5 miles to a camp where we chose to put up for two nights. Our first (and only) layover day at the aptly named "Sand Spring creek." It was a little hump to get all our gear including the dry box and cooler up to where camp was, but it was out of the wind! We were all very happy since the day was full of wind and rain.
Zach, happy to get to the second camp
For some reason, the bottle of Jameson made an appearance. It turns out we were ALL really grateful to get out of the wind because come morning...we all hurt. Groggy. Staring zombies roaming around camp. Later it broke into a light wind, 68 degrees and very pleasant. Our hangovers subsiding, we went on a hike to eventually break out of the canyon and look across the prairie. Er, desert. Er, scrubland?
We started up the hill and went from sand and sagebrush to volcanic rock. That was it. Strange foreign and surreal...felt like we were on Mars. You could see evidence of lava tubes...where blocks of rock covered fissures and caves. You could see where the cooling lava was calving off like a glacier...forming cracks about 30 feet deep and anywhere from 2 to 6 feet across. One wrong step and you could be in some trouble. At one point I was bending over to pick up a rock and Paul idly says, "Hey Tom, there's a snake to your right." I stood up about to say something smart-ass when I noticed it! First and only snake of the trip! Zach found out later that it was a Pacific Gopher snake, so I'm guessing non poisonous, but it still got me looking at where I was stepping a little more seriously.
Pacific Gopher snake
Then came the cliffs of Mordor. More volcanic rock and an unexpected foe; tumbleweed! Yes, tumbleweed. You could look up the hills and see this golden, almost pretty, stringers of tumbleweed caged up in hollows where the wind couldn't get to it. We found out that it was the kind that was very "brambly" and sharp. Not fun when you're wearing shorts. Paul comically asked, "How deep do you think those are?" I was joking saying, "Oh, probably up to your waist." Thinking nothing of it until we were right up against this impenetrable wall. We finally found a place where we wouldn't have to push too far through it and Paul had the great idea to throw a rock in to test the depth. It never touched the bottom! Some places you could here the rock hit about 15 feet down, other places it just wouldn't make it. If we had just jumped in....that could have been a serious mess! Well, we picked our way across in a safe area and then took in all the nonexistent sights on top the canyon rim.
There is a canyon under all that
Zach, gingerly trying to see bottom
The desolate view from the top of the rim.
The way back down was only marked with the same kind of experience. It was nice to get back to camp and chill, but good to be feeling a little more lucid.
View from my tent at camp two
posted by geotracker12 at 2:31 PM
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