The predominate winds shifted this week and nearly the entire state was veiled in smoke.
This turned the morning sun orange, obscured the Cascade Range and generally muted our view. However, it did not keep us at home. It never got that toxic.
Keeping a watchful eye.
At the start of the week we took an afternoon trip to the Crooked River. After an early dinner at the Tastee Treet, we found our favorite parking spot vacant.
Off to catch an evening hatch
I was looking for an evening hatch and some dry fly action, a much anticipated part of summer flyfishing.
There were far more strikes than hook sets, but we’re not looking to catch. The river provided a couple of hours of action, ending in a cold beverage and relaxing time sitting on its’ bank.
Later in the week we headed West, over the mountains and into the farm rich Willamette Valley.
Sweet white corn near fresh from the field
Schlecter Farms corn was the primary objective . . . sweet corn that shouldn’t be missed.
Putting up sweet corn for the winter
There was farm fresh produce available and a visit with my sister in Tualatin.
Evening light on juniper
Fall has started to spread it’s amber hues.
The weather got warm again, but it’s only false summer. Frosty mornings aren’t far off and we are looking forward to this change in the season.
A couple of things this week, Steelhead and seasonal fruit canning.
If you’re a regular on this blog, you might recall we’ve combined trips for Summer Steelhead on the Lower Deschutes and orchard visits before.
Well, it’s that time of year again. Fishermen refer to Steelhead as a fish of a thousand casts. It can take that many or more to actually catch one.
Our favorite stretch of the Deschutes River.
In simple terms, this is a Rainbow Trout smolt that spent a few years in the ocean and then comes back to the fresh water river of it’s birth to spawn and repeat the cycle.
Sage lines the river’s edge
Late summer on the Lower Deschutes offers a chance to add to your cast number in pursuit of large fish. Mostly, I’ve been trying out fly patterns, improving my casting skills, and a little more.
This week I did manage to hook up a large fish, but lost it before a positive identification. In a week, I’ll try again. The Lower Deschutes Canyon in late summer is worth the trip.
Suncrest peaches feature in a new recipe, Ginger Peach Butter
Dolgo Crab Apples simmering
Crab Apple Jelly
Fresh tomatoes star of a new jam
Tomato Jam, better than ketchup
August and September are huge canning months as farms and orchards overflow with new harvests. We eat “seasonally” which requires the preservation of some of what you are enjoying at the moment.
Pickling and fermenting are on this month’s menu
Stone fruit have started to show up at the Hood River orchards so that is what we gathered extra of this week. Peaches, plums and some crabapples are getting sliced for breakfast today and loaded into jars for meals this winter.
Tree ripened fruit from the farmstand outshines anything you’ll find at the mega-mart. It is always worth the trip.
There has been a shift in the weather this week. Days are cooler and skies hold more clouds. There’s even some rain.
The start of Fall is a welcome event in this house . . . certainly not for pumpkin spice … ewwww!
A pile of stuff , , , just to go fishing?
There were a couple of trips to the Crooked River this week. This is one spot that seems immune to smoke plumes and has become a regular destination.
Seasons shift means we don’t have to start quite so early and we can linger on the river longer.
Osprey on the huntMagpie scavenging bugs
The other harbinger of fall is the return of migratory birds. The honking of geese has become a daily occurrence. We’ll need to work in a trip to Summer Lake soon.
The Osprey was fishing and even the Kestrel peeked out from its hiding spot.
This might be in part because we did lounge longer. Regardless, it’s always nice to see old friends.
Some warmer weather is in the forecast, but it stays closer to 70 than 100 . . . and that’s a good sign.
Patterns in stalks of dry grass
As the heat of summer wanes, we’ll pick up the pace on outings, staying longer and venturing further. This is perhaps our favorite season and we’ll take full advantage of it.
We spend a lot of time outside. None of it actually camping.
At least, not in the classic sense.
Coffee is cooked, camp chairs are set up and on rare occasions, regulations permitting, we might light a fire. However, by the end of the day we’re home and ready to sleep in a nice comfy bed.
Everyone seeks out a bit of shade
When we did ‘camp’ it was in a Westfalia, so truth is, we’ve never been hard core campers. Creature comforts over wilderness experience . . . with one exception.
A couple of years ago we discovered the cabins at Cottonwood Canyon State Park.
Our kind of wilderness experience
There are elements of camping in that you’re isolated without cell service.
Reflection of our view
But each neat little cabin is fitted with AC/heat and a comfy bed.
Plus, there is hot/cold running water nearby. It’s a perfect solution.
The down side is, you need to reserve a space months in advance, making it difficult to predict the weather or as happened last year . . . wildfire.
Cottonwood is surrounded by sage covered hills
In April we set up a stay for August 13th, which when August came around we discovered was also a peak time for the Perseids Meteor shower.
The night sky looking northwest
With zero light pollution, the setting is perfect for star gazing, which is part of every visit, but this stay turned out to be a fortuitous reservation.
Early evening sky to the south
Bundled in warm sweaters, we spent early morning hours gazing at the heavens.
They didn’t disappoint. The smear of the milky way and hundreds of constellations filled a sky occasionally streaked by a chunk of space rock falling through the atmosphere.
An early morning start had us heading towards Paisley and the Chewaucan River.
It’s the third time we’ve attempted this loop route (previously stymied by snowy roads and a knee injury).
Lake Abert on a dead calm day
Paisley is on the southeastern end of Summer Lake, but first we headed to Lake Abert just a few miles further.
There is a decent water level this year
Both of these alkali bodies offer a stop over for migrating birds. The largest concentrations occur in July and August, so it seemed like a good time to swing by.
The lake’s calm surface creates an interesting illusion
In addition to a huge variety of gulls, we spotted Black-necked stilts, Phalaropes, as well as Avocets, both feeding and nesting.
US 395 runs the along the eastern edge and there are frequent turn outs to give you a great view of the mudflats.
Abert looking south from one of many pull-outs.
A mix of shore birds
While we have been here before, the lake’s water level has never been this high, and by assumption that made for higher numbers of birds.
The background gets enhanced by the smoke haze.
A plume of smoke moved through the valley, but we managed to avoid the worst of it, grabbing some images before heading back to Paisley.
What little water makes it past the alfalfa irrigation and into Lake Abert Lake is from the Chewaucan River.
Paisley, home of the Mosquito Festival, sits on the river’s edge.
We turned onto a forest service road that follows the river up the southern end of Winter Ridge . . . a point from which John Freemont “discovered” the Summer Lake Valley.
Some fire scarred trees along the Chewaucan River
Ironically, the west side of this forested mountain range was consumed in a massive wildfire (Bootleg Fire, 365k acres) in the summer of 2021.
The understory shows signs of recovery, but blackened tree skeletons stand in memorial to the devastation.
Interesting point about wildland fire is how the fingers of a blaze reach into portions of a forest and miss adjacent areas.
The lower reaches of the Chewaucan were on the edge and our route wound in and out of the burned areas. At some high points you get a feel for the expanse of it.
We pulled into a quiet camp site for a lunch break, then continued to head up Winter Ridge. We skirted the edge of Gearhart Mt. Wilderness, and forged on to Bly and the Sprague River Valley.
On the way we discovered an unusual memorial from WWII, the Mitchell Monument Historical site. Apparently, the Japanese attempted to use High-altitude balloons to start fires in an effort to kill US citizens.
The Mitchell family and a group of Sunday school children were the sole casualties from an estimated 9000 balloons launched.
Aftermath of the Bootleg Fire
The USFS route out of the hills was a pothole riddled mess, but once we hit Bly, the roads improved and we had a very enjoyable journey along the slow moving Sprague River.
We then joined up with Highway 97 and cruised back up towards Bend.
What little water makes it past the alfalfa irrigation and into Lake Abert Lake is from the Chewaucan River.
The understory shows signs of recovery, but blackened tree skeletons stand in memorial to the devastation.
