There is a rapture on the lonely shore;
There is society, where none intrudes.
By the deep sea, and music in its roar:
I love not man the less, but Nature more...

-Lord Byron

30 October 2014

along the Targhee

The light from the morning sunrise was only beginning as I leave Jackson Hole to drive home. The whiskers on my face have grown long and wild, my scent strong from lack of a shower.

I leave a Mountain Man of the Old West, perched upon a stone overlooking the grand splendor before me.
The trees are on fire with color as the sun lights up the autumn leaves. Clouds that were nestled against the mighty Snake river overnight are now breaking free and rising to the sky as morning comes.

I put rubber to the road and zoom through the magical forest.

Halfway down the canyon an area opens up where one can sit and search for wildlife. Bear, moose and elk come down to the Snake to drink and forage for a hearty meal before the snow flies.
I quietly observe for a spell, then head back down the road.

My head is satisfied with the adventure, and the memories of this place.

29 October 2014

Haystack harmonica

Long dirt roads, seemingly never ending in the heartland of America, are my traveling companion on a lazy weekend afternoon.

The tranquility of endless corn fields, lone farm houses and sun light warm me like a fuzzy blanket as I drive to nowhere in particular, searching for the sweet resting spot.

I find a field that has a small open grassy area in between the high corn stalks. A small stream is making it's way West towards the setting sun. Crickets are alive and singing, and a family of raccoons are rustling and chatting, just beyond my sight.

I pull out my harmonica and begin to play.

Freedom exists when no one is around to listen. I jam to my own sound, dance and sway to the notes that float up into the blue October sky.

I lean back on a haystack and tap my toes to the rhythm.....
until the skies turn from blue to purple and orange, eventually fading to black. Stars comes out to comfort the lone wanderer as I hop back into my car, no one the wiser.

Except the family of racoons.

26 October 2014

The McKenzie

Deep into the wooded forests of Central Oregon is a trail that will put you in the midst of the purest blue glacial waters.

Koosah and Sahalie Falls cascade down the lava rock, their mist cooling off your skin during the height of summer.

This is the McKenzie.
I take the time to see the turbulent nature of the river from beneath the river's surface. Oxygenated bubbles race in crazy circles, bouncing from stone to stone as they are tossed downstream.
Soft moss lines the trees along the river bank, and when a rest is needed, you can find comfort as you lean back against the softness of a mossy tree.
Twenty six miles from start to finish, whether you complete the entire section or only a portion, the McKenzie trail will not disappoint.

22 October 2014

a peaceful evening in an unsuspecting place.

My time in Rochester was short but certainly memorable. My last evening found me sitting on the still Genesse river waters, with the golden glow of a city building gleaming over the trees across the river bank, with the setting sun painting the sky in brilliant pink and purple colors. 

As I'm enjoying this, a lovely woman of Middle Eastern descent quietly comes up to me to see if the abandoned bike a few yards away was mine, as she didn't want it stolen since it wasn't locked up.

I smile warmly and let her know it's not mine. She carries on down the river walk as I turn back to watch either small birds or perhaps little bats fly above the water, their tiny reflections captured perfectly.

From the friendly people to the quaint buildings, I look forward to returning here, no doubt about it!

Assaulting the visual senses

Bugs find an end to their short life as they splat on the windshield of my car. No matter as I squirt washer fluid, smear the little carcasses everywhere, and continue driving onward.

It's the colour of the leaves against mighty mountain peaks that have my full attention here.
In between hiking previously unexplored trails and picnicking in open meadows, my arm is outstretched to see the open road from a new perspective.

Many say that too much is shared on Social Media, that we humans demean life by capturing every little event.

I offer a different viewpoint. I see the world in new light, where technology lets us share this earth in wonderful and unique ways. We can then express what we see to others.

It is up to us what we view, and how we perceive it. Today I offer a visual assault of passing through Fall colours in a whirlwind, white aspen trees lined up like thousands of skinny soldiers on a battlefield with the commandeering mountaintops as their General.
Being photobombed by a noisy squirrel