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June 25, 2008

Metolius River video – Wizard Falls hike

If you've never hiked along the Metolius River in central Oregon, you've missed out on a marvelous scenic experience.

My six minute You Tube'd movie of the walk we took upstream from the Wizard Falls fish hatchery will give you a feel for what this 2.5 mile section of the Metolius is like.

In short, beautiful. (This description of the hike starts from the campground, not the hatchery, but covers the same stretch of the river.)

I mangle the name of the hatchery at the start of the video. For some reason I kept throwing in "creek." After that, my narration rolls along pretty smoothly.

Be sure to watch to the end. You don't want to miss the shot of a peanut butter sandwich eating dog. (Hollywood animal actor agents: Serena and I are available, and we work for, well, peanuts.)

June 23, 2008

June blossoms on the Metolius

Here's photographic proof – why the Metolius River dazzles the eye (and soul) in what passes for spring in central Oregon. Namely, the middling part of June. Dog_on_metolius_island Dog_on_metolius_island2

Just before Lake Creek the family dog explored a grassy island. Old_tree_new_tree

Away from the river, on top of a butte, old tree and new tree showed off against (almost) clear sky. Metolius_flowers_and_rocks Metolius_flowers_and_rocks2

A bit farther along, some yin and yang: bright flowers and gray rocks. Metolius_flower_arrangement Metolius_flower_arrangement2

Moving back to the Metolius, natural flower arrangements dot the river. It's constant spring-fed flow encourages growth that wouldn't be possible on up and down rivers. [Appreciate these shots: wading in the water I instantly recognized that it's damn cold – snow melt once removed.] Duck_on_a_log

Ducks don't seem to mind the temperature. But this one was perched on a warm log. Natural_bridges

There's lots of natural bridges, since logs are left where they lie in this wild and scenic river. Metolius_light_and_shadow

Metolius light and shadow. Flowery_metolius_log

I'd love to have this in my yard. Along with the river, of course. Metolius_zen Metolius_zen2

I think "Metolius Zen" when I see these photos. But Zen is the reflection of nature; this is the original. White_water_yellow_flower

White water, yellow flower. Nice. Metolius_modern_art

A few years ago a large tree fell and broke apart in the Metolius. I've been watching it evolve. Now it's become flowery modern art. Flower_log_jam Flower_log_jam2

One of the more attractive log jams you'll find in a river. June_on_metolius

More Zen. I love the water swirls. Water_yin_and_yang

Metolius yin and yang. Metolius_zen_water_garden

Probably my favorite photo. I have a little sand garden in my office that I rake, making patterns like this around the rocks. Metolius_decay_and_growth

Decay and growth. Some days I feel like the stump, other days like the flower.

June 04, 2008

Metolius River hike from Camp Sherman store

This is our sort of hiking adventure: one that begins and ends at a charming country store that serves expresso. Namely, the Camp Sherman store in central Oregon's beautiful Metolius River recreation area.

We've hiked most of the easily accessible stretches of the Metolius many times. They're all marvelous.

The two mile path downstream of the store (west side of the river) is enjoyable because it's level, passes by interesting cabins on forest service land, and is on a particularly attractive section of the Metolius (not that there's an unattractive section).

Plus, there's the latte thing. And public restrooms at miles 0, 1, 3, and 4 of the roundtrip four mile hike, a potential benefit if you energized yourself with a large quad expresso before you started off.

Here's a You Tube video of the hike we took a few days ago.

May 02, 2008

Maui tourists gone (mildly) wild

Proving that a man on a Maui vacation armed with a Flip Video and a You Tube account is an formidable cinemagraphic force, here are the final four videos in my 2008 Hawaiian Island oeuvre.

These follow my preceding works of tourist art: "Maui beach people: beautiful or not?", "Video tour of Kapalua zipline course" and "Having a whale of a good time on a Maui cruise."

Serious students of Flip Videography (assuming there are any) may notice an evolution in my style during our ten days on Maui. Myself, I can't. But often an artist can't recognize his own genius.

In "Maui's Lahaina Stables sunset ride" I explore the island's yin and yang: marvelous natural beauty coupled with increasingly annoying over-development. On my horse I walk (and jerkily trot) up to the lower reaches of a mystical West Maui mountain valley, pondering what Shangri La lies beyond our two-hour ride's reaches.

Shifting gears, a lot, to "Maui shopping in Wailea," I document my humble husbandly shopping demeanor: five steps behind Laurel, who rules the store browsing roost. My camera lingers on a shapely black-clad shopper (or more likely, store employee) who I would have followed more closely if not for a fear of "Security! I'm being stalked!"

"Snorkeling on Maui" actually is my wife's video creation. It features no narration, mostly because it isn't possible to talk with a snorkel in your mouth. This was filmed with the Flip Video underwater case. Laurel used no artificial fish food aids in filming her snorkeling on Napili and Kapalua Bays. Hence, the natural number of fish.

My final video, "Maui's Banyan Tree and Napili Bay," melds a stroll under a notable Lahaina attraction and a view of one of Maui's most beautiful beaches. The viewer is treated to a massive display of bird chirping at dusk and a cogent explanation of how we have managed to do a lot of Maui moving while vacationing on the same beach for 20 years.

April 29, 2008

Having a whale of a good time on a Maui cruise

What is it about whales? And screaming people. I had plenty of time to ponder this question on the sunset dinner cruise that left yesterday from Maui's Lahaina harbor.

As memorialized in my You Tube video, you can hear our fellow passengers (and me) getting super-excited when some whales appeared close to the Pacific Whale Foundation boat.

Elvis and the Beatles probably didn't get more "oohs" and "ahs" when they came on stage. Yes, there's something about whales.

My philosophical self likes this notion: whales are like God. Mysterious, powerful, unseen. Usually hidden beneath the surface, once in a while one reveals itself and Wow! – the crowd goes wild. Praise whale!

There was even some magical thinking going on with the captain, who you can hear me chatting with. I asked her how we could get some tricks out of the whales, since a whole lot of dramatic breaching wasn't going on.

She told me that in her sixteen years of experience, the best way to see whales is to turn your camera off.

Actually, I'd been wondering the same thing, having just filmed many minutes of open ocean, interspersed with a few whale sightings. (My video has been edited to show the best ones.) But I resisted the temptation to turn off my Flip Video.

And just a few seconds after the captain spoke, bingo, the whale breached big time. So much for magical thinking.

Aside from the whales, another exciting image on the video shows me sipping my very first Mai Tai. The expression on my face is partly staged, but mostly real – because it took me a while to realize that I was supposed to stir the drink up.

All the alcohol must have been sitting on the top, because at first it seemed like a killer Mai Tai (not that I'd know, really, since this was my first). Guess this is one of those things experienced drinkers learn on the job.

We also got a kick out of the wedding party, who you'll see sitting on the bow area in front of us. The bride wore a formal white dress on her Maui sunset dinner cruise. Cool. She certainly stood out among the shorts and t-shirt crowd.

This Pacific Whale Foundation cruise gets a thumbs up from us. It's vegetarian friendly, featuring pasta and a tofu stir fry for entrees, plus the usual veggie appetizers.

The music man was friendly and competent, though we could have done with fewer of his corny jokes during the whale sightings. Some silence might have been more appropriate when the divinities of the deep paid us a visit.

April 26, 2008

Video tour of Kapalua zipline course

Any mildly-extreme sport that starts and ends at an expresso bar is right up our alley. That's one reason we enjoyed yesterday's outing at the Kapalua Resort's zipline adventure on Maui so much.

But naturally zipping was the main attraction. We'd never zipped before. If you don't know what it is, my four minute video will show you.

It's a kick. You hang on harnesses attached to what we were assured is a super-strong cable. Then you let yourself go from a platform and zip – the longest of the four courses being over 2000 feet.

In the video I only show two of the ziplines, the short practice course and the longest ending course, which soars over a beautiful valley.

After three zips, I felt experienced enough to hold my Flip Video camera in one hand for almost all of the last course. But when you near the landing platform zippers are supposed to hold on to a bar with two hands; hence, the sudden shot of the sky. (I broke the rule at the very end.)

Kapalua has parallel lines, so two people zip at the same time. On the last course I was paired with Amy, who was zipping as part of her training to work at the Kapalua Adventure Center.

Not surprisingly, she zipped way faster than I did. About halfway down I thought about leaning back (less air resistance) to see if I could catch up, but then I realized that given how much we were paying per second of zipping, I should be going as slow as possible to stretch out the experience.

Not as slow as Laurel, though. She was zipping so sedately at the end of the last course she stopped 20 feet from the platform. A rope was thrown to her so she could be towed in.

We were fortunate to just be one of three tourists on our zipline adventure, the other three zippers being staff in training. Rob, from North Carolina via New Zealand, was the other tourista. He's thinking of moving to Ashland, Oregon – an excellent idea, we told him.

This is a fun 2 ½ to 3 hour escapade for those who are (1) moderately adventurous and (2) moderately physically fit. The zipline course requires pretty good balance – not when you're zipping, but while you're on a ladder getting unhooked from the equipment.

I suspect the first practice tower is designed to weed out the excessively infirm right at the start. You walk up a swaying hanging board/rope bridge, then have to navigate some steep stairs while hanging onto your zipline gear.

It's not a big deal for most people. But I wonder why Kapalua doesn't assess the fitness of potential zippers before they get fitted into a harness and take a twenty-minute ride up to the Mountain Outpost.

Maybe the staff figure that if you want to slide on a cable for thousands of feet over a deep Maui valley, you're fit enough to do it.

April 24, 2008

Messages to Maui’ans from an Oregon vacationer

Ah, the World Wide Web is wonderful. It lets me communicate, potentially at least, with some people on Maui that I have messages for.

--To the couple in the room next door: It was so nice to get to know you early this morning – through the loud cell phone conversations on your deck. I hope your mother is able to join you on Maui. Paying for her lodging if she springs for the airline ticket sounds fair. And good luck with finding a babysitter through the nanny hotline. Hopefully she'll keep your child quieter than you've been able to.

--To everyone else staying in our section of the resort: Are we the only ones who can read the resort rules? Which mentions quiet time from 10:30 pm to 8:00 am. And no cell phone conversations outside rooms. I realize that it's tough to keep kids quiet in Hawaii (or anywhere), but letting them outside at 6:30 am seriously interferes with my Maui mellow, which is heavily dependent on much sleeping and napping.

--To Maui residents: If you keep allowing condos and high rises to be built, eventually you're going to have zero natural island and 100% artificial ugliness. Like almost everywhere, including Oregon, I'm sure your local elected officials love property taxes and over-building. They're not going to stop this Maui madness on their own. You've got to vote them out before it's too late. Really. I've been coming here for over twenty years, and you're losing the reasons both locals and vacationers like us love this island.

--To restaurant owners: Here's a tip for generating increased profits. Have at least one decent vegetarian entrée on your menu. Lots of people are trying to eat healthier now. Plus, there are many steadfast vegetarians. But you wouldn't know it from the meat and seafood fare (and nothing else) that we see on your dinner menu before we walk away and take our credit card elsewhere.

--To a couple of beach goers: Guy #1, cigarettes don't disappear when they're snuffed out in the sand. Filters don't disintegrate. Kids will find them when they play in what their parents thought was pristine beach sand, until little Johnny cries out with a butt in his mouth, "Mommy, look what I found!" Guy #2, you're too obvious. Drinking coke after coke, then walking into the ocean up to your waist for just a minute before getting back on your towel – that's a pee-giveway. Be more subtle. My wife got creeped out and had to walk way down the beach before getting in the water.

--To the turtle botherers: How would you like it if someone followed you home and waited outside until you left, and they could start stalking you again? Sea turtles were here first. Tourists came later. Know your place. Diving down and peering into a turtle's rock crevice refuge after it surfaces to breathe isn't cool. It's tourist-dorky. Watch them from a generous distance. If they want to come see you, they will. (Bet: they won't.)

--To the babes in bikinis: Thank you.

April 22, 2008

Maui beach people: beautiful or not?

Wanting to make our Maui vacation intellectually productive (to a minimal degree), this morning I dedicated myself to a study of people passing by us on Napili Beach.

I say at the beginning that I'm going to film ten consecutive beach walkers, but my study was so interesting, I kept on going.

Hypothesis: Maui beachgoers are beautiful people.
Reality: watch my You Tube video (embedded below).

Now, I hasten to add a politically correct statement: We are all beautiful people in our own way.

That said, some are more beautiful than others. A careful viewer of the video will note that one subject – and one only – is featured twice, coming and going. For obvious reasons.

Actually, it's my wife's fault that this happened. She said to me, "Be sure to get a video of her; she's one of the few really good-looking people on the beach."

I told Laurel, "I think I already have her." But, better safe than sorry. And I just loved her yellow visor (which I have to admit, for some reason I didn't notice the first two times around).

The last guy in the video seemed to be posing for the camera. What a jerk. He reminded me of someone I know really well.

Another You Tube video shows Napili Bay on a high surf day that, sadly, is far removed from the current glassy conditions. My boogie board is gathering dust (and sand).

But my video camera isn't. Here's my research.


September 16, 2007

Smith Rock scenic September hike

Rock climbers, in my opinion, are certifiably crazy. Which is why I admire them so much. And a big part of what made today's hike around a 4-mile loop in central Oregon's Smith Rock State Park so enjoyable. Monkey_face_climbers

Here's three climbers on the aptly named Monkey Face formation, which looks most monkeyish from this perspective on the Mesa Verde Trail. One climber (with red pants) is standing in the mouth. Starting_off_at_smith_rock

To get there we hiked a couple of mostly flat miles on the River Trail. A short ways from the parking lot you already feel like you're on a Western movie set (in fact, "Rooster Cogburn" was filmed here). Smith_rock_river_trail

The trail follows the also aptly named Crooked River. View_from_mesa_verde_trail

To take the loop you head off uphill on the Mesa Verde Trail. Before too long the scenery is worth the panting (and it was just in the mid-60s today; if it's much hotter be sure to take a lot more water than the one bottle I carried with me). Monkey_face_from_misery_ridge_trail

Mesa Verde merges with the even more aptly named Misery Ridge Trail. After some heart-pounding switchbacks we ended up on the other side of Monkey Face, where no monkey is visible.

(Note to Bill Sullivan, author of "100 Hikes in the Central Oregon Cascades": We love your hiking books. But dude, if your Smith Rock loop is "moderate," I'd hate to see what an "extreme" hike is like. My wife and I are in good shape, but the Misery Ridge Trail deserves its name. Even on a cool day.) Monkey_face_climbers_2

This must be the "red pants" climber heading somewhere out of the mouth of Monkey Face. Near_top_of_misery_ridge_trail

Near the top of the Misery Ridge trail I turned around, sat down on a blessedly comfortable rock shaped a lot like a chair, and left my out-of-breath misery behind with this view. Black_butte_peeking_through_monkey_

Black Butte, coyly peeking through the Monkey Face formation. Pooped_out_at_top_of_misery_ridge_t

Laurel and Serena, pooped out at the top of the Misery Ridge Trail. Above_monkey_face

We'd made it higher than the top of Monkey Face. That's Mt. Jefferson in the background (I'm pretty sure). On_top_of_misery_ridge_trail

Heading down the other side of the ridge, more vistas. Freestyle_climber_at_smith_rock

I decided to try some freestyle climbing. Hey, there's nothing to it! Freestyle_climber_at_smith_rock_2

Especially when you're just five feet or so above the trail.

August 24, 2007

Alder Springs – hike to a Central Oregon oasis

First bit of Oregon hiking advice: buy the 2007 edition of William Sullivan's "100 Hikes in the Central Oregon Cascades." We had the first edition. The $16.95 I forked over last Sunday for the third edition at the Paulina Springs Book Company was money well spent.

Because it has a dozen new hikes and other fresh features. Which gets me to my second bit of advice: turn to page 82 and follow the directions to the start of the Alder Springs trail.

If you don't yet have the book, here's Sullivan's instructions.

To find the trailhead from downtown Sisters, take Highway 20 east to the far edge of town and fork left towards Redmond on Highway 126 for 4.6 miles. Then turn left on Goodrich Road for 8.1 paved miles. Along the way the road zigzags and changes name, but keep going. When you reach a marker for milestone 7, turn left on gravel road 6360 and pass through a green gate. Follow this one-lane track 4.1 miles, turn right at an "Alder Springs" pointer, and take a rough gravel road 0.8 mile to a parking turnaround at road's end. Alder_springs_parking_area_view

Here's the view from the parking area. That's our dog, Serena, not a skulking coyote. Beginning_of_alder_springs_trail

The beginning of the 3.6 mile round trip to Alder Springs (it's 6.2 miles to the Deschutes and back, which we journeyed) tells you you're in the high desert. Glimpse_of_whychus_creek

Before too long there's a glimpse of Whychus Creek. Used to be called Squaw Creek until political correctness got the name changed in 2005. Approaching_alder_springs

Descending toward the creek I thought I could see an Indian on the skyline. Or maybe it was a flashback from all the Westerns I watched in my boyhood. Alder_springs

Alder Springs truly is an oasis. Temperature was just in the high 70s the day we hiked the trail. If it was 90, you'd really consider it an oasis. Serena_in_whychus_creek

Our dog surely did. Here she is in Whychus Creek. Alder_springs_info

There's a board that tells about the springs, which bubble up 40 miles from snowmelt. Whychus_creek_at_alder_springs

I loved the contrast between the rocky desert look and the green oasis'y look. Past_alder_springs

If you wade across the shallow water, you can continue on downcreek 1.6 miles until it runs into the Deschutes River. This is on the way, looking back toward Alder Springs. Trail_past_alder_springs2

The trail is lush in places, even in late August. Trail_past_alder_springs3

More rock/green contrasts. Deschutes_at_end_of_alder_springs_t

The end of the trail is a great Deschutes watching/resting spot. Serena_and_brian

A dog/human photo op. Brian_cooling_off_in_deschutes

Water was a bit too cold to jump in completely. But I baptized myself, wearing my newly purchased (in Sisters) "Desert Mystic" t-shirt, appropriately enough. Tender_moment_on_alder_springs_trai

I caught a tender moment between Laurel and Serena. Serena_and_laurel

And a posed photo. Where, Praise Dog!, Serena's ears are actually (and rarely) standing up. She looks like more than the 50% German Shepherd that she is.

I carted along my GPS receiver. Total trip: 6.16 miles. Moving time: 2 hrs 32 min. Moving average: 2.4 mph. Stopped time: 1 hr 00 min. Total ascent: 1112 feet (felt like more, when we were in the sun). Maximum elevation: 2615 feet.

We stopped a lot for various reasons.

A sign-in sheet at the trailhead had frequent mentions of "saw rattlesnake," "saw big rattlesnake," and such. Whenever Serena seemed overly interested in a pile of rocks quite a ways from the trail we paused and whistled for her. Wasn't interested in carrying a 70 pound dog with a snakebite back to the car.

I also stopped to take lots of photos. But one of the biggest contributions to our stopped time (aside from the Deschutes River resting) was Laurel's frequent scanning of mountainsides for cougars. She's absolutely determined to see one, though it's unlikely that we ever will.

And I'm not even sure that this was cougar country. Regardless, it was beautiful Central Oregon country.

The road to the trail head is passable with any sort of car. It's bumpy, but not at all outrageous. So try the Alder Creek hike if you're in the area. You'll like it.

July 29, 2007

Canyon Creek Meadows trail still beautiful after forest fire

After the B and B Complex fire ravaged the area, we avoided central Oregon's Canyon Creek Meadows trail. We figured it'd be too depressing to walk through burnt trees. Today we were proven wrong,

Even back in 2005, just two years after the summer of 2003 fire, William (Bill) Sullivan and other lovers of this area said that that it still had "corners of wonder."

Well, I'm about to show you that this is an understatement in 2007. There are whole boulevards of wonder – including the burned areas.

Directions to the trail head are online and in various hiking books, including Sullivan's guide to the Central Oregon Cascades. It starts from the Jack Lake parking area. The road to Jack Lake is passable with any sort of vehicle. Just be ready for some teeth-rattling washboarding.

Have $5 to plunk into a box if you don't have an annual National Forest Trail Pass. We were pleased to pay. The hike is priceless. And the outhouse at the parking lot was spanking clean. Odor-free even. Start_of_canyon_creek_meadows_trail

The Canyon Creek Meadows trail starts off from the right side of the parking lot. Right away you know you're entering a burned area. Chipmunk_on_canyon_creek_meadows_tr

We didn't see any wildlife during our almost six mile hike. No deer. Not even any birds. But I guess this curious chipmunk qualifies. Our dog loves to chase little critters. He seemed to be taunting her. Regrowth_from_b_and_b_complex_fire

Regrowth is well under way without any help from humans. Which is how the aftermath of all wildfires should be handled, in our opinion. Nature knows what it's doing. Logging and seeding aren't necessary. (This is in the Jefferson Wilderness Area, so it wouldn't be permitted anyway). Seedlings_growing_in_b_and_b_comple

Witness this area. A profusion of young trees. Dog_rest_stop_on_canyon_creek_meado

Because the area is so heavily hiked, you're requested to use a clockwise one-way loop system. On the outbound loop there's a convenient dog rest area about half way along. Handy in the summer heat. Three_fingered_jack

After some ups and downs we were rewarded with a gorgeous view of Three Fingered Jack. The mountain always makes me think "Mordor." Yet without the evil. A bit sinister looking, though. Brian_hines_in_lower_canyon_creek_m

Here I am in the lower meadow. Some late July snow is beside my left ear. Laurel_hines_in_lower_canyon_creek_

Here's Laurel and Serena, the chipmunk chasing dog, on a bridge in the lower meadow. Mordor, oops, Three Fingered Jack, looms behind them. Wildflowers_in_canyon_creek_meadow

Wildflowers are still in full bloom well into the summer up this high (around 5,500 feet). More_wildflowers_in_canyon_creek_me

Oh, yeah. They're blooming. On_way_to_upper_canyon_creek_meadow

We decided to continue on to the upper meadow. It's about .7 of a mile. Fairly steep in places. Three_fingered_jack_from_upper_mead

But the view of Three Fingered Jack along the way is worth it. Upper_canyon_creek_meadow

Along with the view from the rim of the upper meadow once we staggered our way to a lunch-eating rock. Three_fingered_jack_close_up

This was the closest we got to Three Fingered Jack. Beautiful. Looking_over_b_and_b_complex_fire

Heading back down the trail we got a great overview of the B and B Complex burned acreage. Which was disturbingly large. The Canyon Creek Meadows area, fortunately, is an oasis of green. Creek_along_canyon_creek_meadows_tr

On the return loop the trail follows Canyon Creek for quite a ways. It also passes over some small creeks, like this mossy gem. Fallen_logs_across_canyon_creek

Here's a bunch of logs that have fallen across Canyon Creek. Reminds me of playing with Tinker Toys. Walking_through_b_and_b_complex_fir

There's beauty in the burned areas also. My Tai Chi instructor's wife is Japanese. Warren said that when her relatives came to visit and saw burned areas along Highway 20, they took lots of photos and said "How beautiful." Yes. Yin_and_yang_in_b_and_b_complex_fir

I kept seeing the play of yin and yang as I walked along. White and black. Life and death. Devastation and regrowth. Burls_along_canyon_creek_meadows_tr

I don't know much about burls. But these sure are burly, whatever caused them. Mt_jefferson_from_canyon_creek_mead

One benefit of the fire, for hikers, is the much more open views you have along the trail. Mt. Jefferson would have been barely visible, if at all, before the fire. Now, it says "Hi" to passers by. End_of_canyon_creek_meadows_trail_i

We got plenty dusty on the hike. Jack Lake was impossible to pass up at the end of the trail.

Bottom line: don't pass up a chance to hike the Canyon Creek Meadows trail. The burned areas make it more interesting, not less. Beauty still is evident every step of the way.

October 18, 2006

Today, Suttle Lake beauty trumps politics

Come November, vote Democratic. And if you’re in Oregon, vote “no” on every Oregon ballot measure.
[Update: Oops. When I impulsively wrote the above I'd forgotten about Measure 44, which expands the Oregon Prescription Drug Program. It deserves a "yes." Otherwise, I still advise "no" on the other measures. See my post, "I copy Laurel's ballot. Are we lawbreakers?"]

There. I’m done my minimal progressive duty and am done with politics for this blogging day. I’ll turn to photos of our recent walk around central Oregon’s Suttle Lake, a much more pleasant manifestation of physical reality.

Black_butte_over_suttle_lake
The big fire a couple of years ago has left whitening snags around the shoreline. Black Butte peeks over the treetops.

Black_butte_over_suttle_lake2
From another angle, and zoomed in, Black Butte becomes more of a presence. The fire lookout on the top of the mountain is just barely visible.

Laurel_matching_suttle_lake
Laurel has a talent for matching, wherever she goes. Here she’s blending in with the fall color of the vine maples and Suttle Lake’s blue. (Her not-so-fashionable “necklace” is a dog whistle).

Study_in_suttle_lake_shadows
Speaking of Serena, the wonder pet, this is a study of Suttle Lake sunlight and shade featuring her and Laurel.

Suttle_lake_october_color
More vine maples. They weren’t quite as vibrant this October as last, perhaps due to the dry summer and fall.

Serena_retrieving_lake_litter_1
Ah, we’ve got such an environmentally conscious dog. With just a smidgen of coaxing (well, maybe a bit more than that) Laurel got Serena to retrieve a plastic bottle floating ten feet or so off shore. She tried her best, but the bottle must have gotten attached to some fishing line or something. Still, we’ll be nominating her for Green Anti-Litter Dog of the Year.

Serena_at_suttle_lake
This is my favorite photo from our walk. Dog on a dock, contemplating…something. For sure, a different order of reality from Saxton vs. Kulongoski and Republicans vs. Democrats. Without getting too philosophical, I'll still call it a more real reality.

October 08, 2006

Black Butte Ranch Restaurant: We love you, but…

Sometimes tough love is needed. Straight talk. Telling it like it is. Black Butte Ranch Restaurant, my friend, you’ve got to get your serving-time act together. Plus, what you serve has got to include a decent vegetarian entrée.

Two “got to’s.” Not much to ask. You can handle it. Then we’ll keep coming back. We love looking out your floor to ceiling windows at snow-capped mountains, a meadow, grazing horses, geese on the pond. The atmosphere can’t be beat.

But no matter how beautiful the setting, diners get cranky when they wait half an hour to have their order taken, wait another half an hour to get two basic dinner salads, and then, a full hour and a half after sitting down at their table, are served an unappealing vegetarian dish that would have brought a smile to Bugs Bunny. But not to us.

Yes, I did tell our waiter to go heavy on the vegetables and light on the pasta. However, it looked like the chef poured a pail of cut cooked carrots over some linguine, added a dash of broccoli and mushrooms, and called it an entrée.

If either Laurel or me was afraid of orange, we’d have run screaming for the exit when the plates were put down. It was an awesome sight. To rabbits.

Look: I’ve been a vegetarian for thirty-seven years. It’s common for me to walk into a classy restaurant like yours, open up the menu, and see there isn’t a single entrée that didn’t once walk, fly, or swim.

No problem. I just plead my case before the waiter. “Hey, we’re vegetarians. We don’t eat meat or fish. Could the chef make us something special? Doesn’t need to be fancy. Just put together some grilled vegetables, rice or pasta, maybe some other side dishes from your menu?”

This usually works like a charm. In fact, at the very Black Butte Restaurant where we dined last night, over the years my wife and I have enjoyed the creativity that’s emerged from the kitchen in response to our vegetarian pleadings.

But last night we got off to an inauspicious beginning when the waiter looked at us with a deer-in-the-headlights stare when I went into my “Hey, we’re vegetarians” rap. Right away he tried to buy us off with a veggie appetizer, but we pressed for a real entrée.

Should have stuck with the appetizer, in retrospect. After a few bites, Laurel’s reaction was “I could have made something better than this back at the cabin.” She was right. And while I’ve got tremendous respect for my wife’s cooking skills, she’d be the first to admit that they are nowhere near chef-quality. So you’ve got a problem here.

We asked for something vegetarian. I can understand that requesting a kosher, gluten-free, macrobiotic, low-carb dinner might throw the kitchen for a loop. But vegetarian? That should be easy.

You never know when you might get a Hollywood star dining at Black Butte. Get the chef to think ahead, figure out a tasty dish that can be assembled from the ingredients you always have on hand, pin the recipe on a kitchen bulletin board, and have at it when a restaurant customer says that he or she is a vegetarian.

Better yet, make it your policy to always have a vegetarian entrée on the dinner menu. You might be surprised to discover how many people order it. I praised your grilled tofu Garden Plate three years ago but you changed the menu soon after to be entirely meaty and fishy, like it is now.

Big mistake, which you need to rectify if you want to stay on the good side of the Vegetarian Gods.

And us. Who also have some advice about how to handle over-taxed restaurant situations, like you experienced last night. Waiters and busboys were rushing around like crazy. Yet food took a very long time to arrive. We saw other diners frowning as they wrote on the comment card that accompanied the check, just as we did.

Restaurants, like people, have bad nights. We understand that. Your parking lot was full when we drove up. It looked like a party or reception of some sort was going on in your banquet area. Maybe that over-burdened your kitchen. Maybe a cook was sick. Maybe you were short-staffed otherwise (our waiter looked like a busboy given a temporary promotion).

Regardless, be upfront about it. If someone had said to us, “I’m sorry about how long you’ve had to wait. We’re not living up to our service standard. The reason is _______. We want to give you each of you a complimentary glass of wine in appreciation of your patience,” that would have smothered a lot of the frustrated fumes that were rising from our hungry heads.

But we never got anything but a brisk “Sorry for the delay” as our salads were dropped on our table an hour after we sat down. Even worse, we weren’t asked if we wanted ground pepper! I, horror of horrors!, had to use the regular pepper shaker rather than enjoy the ritual of the three-foot-long grinder being wielded above my (tasty) Lodge Salad.

Leisurely meals at a fine restaurant like yours can be enjoyable. However, the diners need to feel like they’re largely in control of the pace of the meal. We did a lot of unwanted lingering last night, made more unwantable by the fact of it being my birthday dinner.

Hey, I had presents to unwrap back at the cabin, some of which I hadn’t bought for myself, so I was curious to find out what they were. We both had better things to do than stare blankly around the dining room in a low-blood-sugar stupor, vaguely pondering why the people who were the most overweight and looked like heart attacks waiting to happen were the ones who ordered a thick steak.

We still love you, Black Butte Restaurant. We just hope you’re open to becoming ever more deserving of our adoration. Learn how to minimize long waits. And have your chef come up with a good vegetarian entrée.

With just a few carrots. Please.

September 25, 2006

I go to Hollywood and eat lunch with Kirsten Dunst

Really. I did. For the whole meal we were just a few feet apart. I was sitting at the very M Café table shown in this photo. On the near end, next to the window. My new best friend, Kirsten, she of “Spider-Man” fame, was eating by herself at an outside table right behind the glass.

So our relationship has some room to grow. Like, we could be in the same room. And meet each other. But, hey, this was a good start.

Celeste_vos
Last weekend Laurel and I visited my daughter Celeste, her husband Patrick, and fabulously spoiled cats Cici and Smokey. After picking us up at the Burbank airport, Celeste showed us around their recently-purchased (and revamped) Hollywood home, looking slim and stylish as always.

My celebrity-seeing karma was even better this trip than last, when we ran into Cameron Diaz and Justin Timberlake. As we walked into the 101 Coffee Shop yesterday to eat breakfast, Felicity Huffman and William H. Macy were on their way out.

And on Saturday night, at the opening of a photographer’s show at a Santa Monica art gallery, Laurel and I were introduced to Annabeth Gish of Showtime’s “Brotherhood.” This time I actually shook hands and chatted with a celebrity. (She and Celeste share a yoga class).

Patrick_vos
What’s great about the Hollywood area, though, is that so many people look like celebrities, even if they aren’t one. Take Patrick, for example. He should be in the movies. Definitely. He already dresses the part. (Love the t-shirt, baby).

Celeste_and_patrick_vos
The four of us went for a walk in the Hollywood Hills—a different (and less steep) path than last year’s out-of-breath trek. Celeste acquitted herself admirably. I had to prod her into acting more tired than she was as she and Patrick posed in front of the mostly hidden “Hollywood” sign.

Brian_and_laurel_hines_in_hollywood_hill
Naturally the fit older folks cruised up the hill without any problem at all.

Tree_by_bodhi_tree_bookstore
I got to make another pilgrimage to the Bodhi Tree bookstore, a must-see for anyone who wants to browse the best collection of spiritual, mystical, new age, and religious books I’ve ever come across. Fittingly, the next block down is lined with marvelous trees.

La_paul_smith_store
Our last stop before heading to the airport yesterday afternoon was the Paul Smith store on Melrose Avenue. Patrick is the manager. It’s tres hip. And colorful.

La_freeway
Flying into nearby Burbank as we did, I was worried that we’d miss the classic LA experience: a freeway traffic jam. Fortunately, the drive to Santa Monica was just slow enough to fulfill me, without being a full-blown nightmare.

101_coffee_shop
Leaving aside the freeways, there’s a lot for organic Oregonians such as us to like about the Hollywood area. We ate great. The 101 Coffee Shop looks exactly like its name. But the food, while coffee shop priced, is way above typical. Health-minded vegetarians can thrive there.

As they can at the macrobiotic M Café. The menu is typical of what we found whenever we sat down to eat at one of the restaurants Celeste and Patrick took us to (they’re a true Hollywood couple; they mostly eat out rather than cook).

Salem, get with it. I don’t expect to sit down with Kirsten Dunst every time I eat lunch. But it sure would be nice to have food like this to choose f