Southeast Oregon 2008

--SOUTHEAST OREGON - Fall, 2008--

Liane and I left Portland Friday night, September 19th, and headed three hours down to Redmond to our friend Mary's house. A sudden lightning storm flashed overhead revealing the change in landscape, but even in the pitch black I could tell we had rolled into Central Oregon just by the scent of sage and nose-jolting juniper.

We both love this area of Oregon; the volcanic rock formations, the wide open spaces, the crisp air... But further southeast of here was uncharted territory for us, and we were ecstatic about exploring it over the next nine days.

--Malheur National Wildlife Refuge--

We invited Mary to join us for the first couple of nights for the Malheur portion of our trip. Another three hours from Redmond to Burns, the last big "town" before you enter a more remote Oregon, and then another half an hour to Malheur Lake. The 187,000 acre refuge is a sanctuary for over 320 bird species and 58 mammal species, and is an important stopover for migrating birds on the Pacific Flyway in the spring and fall.

I figured photographing birds would be pretty challenging, much like photographing tropical fish; they're either too far away or they never stay still. So I was thrilled to get this Great Horned Owl on our first morning at the Refuge Headquarters. Granted, it was just sitting there trying to sleep. The museum had beautifully mounted specimens displayed in a way that let you see the similarities and differences of various species in context. Plus it was a way to see these amazing creatures up close, though dead.

Making our way south on gravel Central Patrol Road in the scenic Blitzen Valley, the peaceful Donner und Blitzen River (Thunder and Lightning, in German) wove through the marshes like a snaking mirror of the sky. A large black bird was shuffling around in the middle of the road maybe 50 yards ahead of us. As we approached, it took to the air and we saw its other sky-high Turkey Vulture friends circling above what we soon found out was a fresh jackrabbit carcass. Mmmm, lunch! During a short walk we startled a huge flock of ravens - blue sky between black wings like something M.C. Escher would draw.

Being newbie birders, we got a satisfying eyeful of many birds both common and rare. We'll not forget how to identify the Northern Harrier now, a white-rumped low swooping raptor we saw in abundance! However, passerines (songbirds) may take a long time to differentiate.

--Steens Mountains--

The Steens is a 30-mile-long fault-block mountain where the east edge was forced upward by massive internal pressures. The 52-mile loop road takes you to the edges of deep glacier-carved gorges: Kiger, Little Blitzen, Big Indian, and Wildhorse. At the top the East Rim overlook awards you with jaw-dropping views of the Alvord Desert almost a vertical mile below. This is the highest road in the state, near the Steens summit at 9,733 feet.

We found one of the prettiest camp sites ever on the aspen-lined Pate Lake at 7,500 feet. We couldn't have timed our trip better to witness the vibrant yellow and orange fall colors stain the quaking aspens. I didn't expect to see pronghorn antelope, but we saw several herds throughout the trip. Also a fun surprise were our coyote sightings.

From the South Steens Road we hiked into the magnificent Little Blitzen Gorge. Tall jagged cliff walls, pinnacles, handsome boulders, and colorful desert shrubbery. We could hear the Little Blitzen River flowing, songbirds hidden from view, and the constant clacking of grasshopper wings as they jumped out of our way. There were tiny black grasshoppers with yellow inner wings, and 2-inch straw-colored ones with black inner wings which made them look like large butterflies in flight! And there were actual butterflies as well - I thought I was seeing the endangered Oregon Silverspot, but my butterfly expert friend said it was a very close relative that is common in that area.

Back on paved road until the little "town" of Fields, we stopped near Roaring Springs Ranch for some impromptu wildlife viewing. In one binocular glance there were ravens sitting on a fence in the foreground, a large flock of Canada geese feeding in green grass behind them, several pairs of Greater Sandhill Cranes cruising the mowed field behind them, two coyotes pouncing about in an adjacent field, and then a resting herd of antelope in the field beyond! Incredible.

--Alvord Desert--

We ventured 8 miles over sandy alkali roads to Borax Lake Hot Springs named so because of the Borax industry that was in operation nearby in 1900. Chinese laborers collected and processed the white crystals and shipped it to Nevada by mule. The main soaking pool was a perfect temperature and a welcome treat as the sun started to dip behind the Steens and dusk brought chill. Although I don't know how anybody actually soaked IN the pool. Wearing nothing but my slippers and a towel over my shoulder, I took one step into the seemingly shallow 3-foot water and watched my entire leg go plunging into thick dark green/gray mud. Good thing I had my hands anchored on the bank, or I would have been swallowed up whole! I literally couldn't move and Liane and I had a good laugh as she extracted me out of the nasty goop. We decided that using buckets to scoop out the hot water to pour over our bodies was good enough. Sheesh!

That evening we set up camp on the hard alkali flats of the Alvord Desert Playa. The wind kicked up and the sun had set making the cooking of canned soup and tent building way more challenging than usual. Everything was getting covered in white dust and I thought maybe camping here was a bad idea. But I really wanted to wake up there and experience sunrise in such surreal surroundings. We didn't stray far from the road and set up near the edge of the playa, but we watched two other cars drive right out into the middle of it. There was only one other camp several hundred yards away with a small RV, a truck, and two land-sailing rigs. In the evening Liane and I went for a walk out on the playa with no headlamps, just navigated using the stars. It felt like we had the entire 6- by 11-mile expanse to ourselves.

The next morning we noticed the back tire of my car had lost a bit of air. Darn it! We had to scrap our hiking plans that day and backtrack 20 miles to Fields to get it fixed. But we couldn't get the tire off so we had to ask the land sailor dude, Dennis, to help. After seeing that even HE was having a tough time loosening the nuts, we didn't feel like such wimps. Got the spare on, but even that was a little flat (oops), so we had to drive super slow on the already slow-going gravel road. Dennis offered us land sailing lessons if the wind was up when we made it back through that way!

Got the tire fixed at the Fields Station while having one of their "World Famous Milkshakes" and gut-bloating chicken strips and fries. (All extremely BAAAD for my condition, but hey, what else do you do in Fields, OR?) Chatted up the funky locals and visitors, bought some beer for Dennis and headed back up to the playa for a possible land sailing lesson!! Dennis and his wife Sally come up from Mt. Shasta maybe twice a year for this sport. There aren't many places to land sail, especially not as magical as this. Their respective rigs fit us perfectly (well, Liane had to use a pillow) and it was super easy to get the hang of it, controlling the sail with the hands and steering with the feet. I only went out once and had the guts to get up to maybe 15 mph, but Liane went way out for a while and got up over 25 mph which is a thrill when you're that close to the ground. The only thing is, you could be miles out in the playa and the wind could die. So you either wait, or you start pushing the boat back to camp in the hot desert.

After all that excitement we took a nice soak in the Alvord Hot Springs a few miles up the road. A tangled mess of pipes from the springs fills two concrete pools, one open-air, the other surrounded by tin walls. Old washer drums were made into seats. It also had a nice deck with a bench, and a changing area. Wow! What a gorgeous place to soak!


The next day we hiked Pike Creek Canyon on the steep east face of the Steens Mountains. Ooh, I rank this as one of my favorite hikes in Oregon. (Most of Leila's Favorite Hikes are in Hawaii, so this is pretty special) Rugged canyon walls, spires, shale clanking underfoot, mysterious gold mining remains, pretty pretty rocks, more pretty rocks (hmm, I think I should have been a geologist, no?), hefty junipers growing out of boulders, and three beautiful snakes all appearing within half an hour of each other. The first was a 5-foot long Gopher snake that slithered across the path, the second was a black and red-tinged Garter snake poised almost vertically on a wall, and the third was a big fat Rattlesnake which zoomed across the path and hid inside a dark shrub so I wasn't able to photograph it. We also got to watch at least fifty Chukar scale the canyon wall opposite of us. We met three vibrant women in their 70s and 80s camping there with their cute old-school van and tent. Carol, Melba, and Pat had been doing trips together every summer for 30 years and they had the best stories to tell! Like the one where they tried to bring their husbands on a trip but ended up sending them home early on the Greyhound out of Baker City! haha

We tried to soak at Alvord Hot Springs again after the hike but this time it was scalding and the water level was a foot lower. Someone messed with the pipes and plugs. It would take hours for that water to cool down to soaking temp. Bummer. Instead we went to explore the boiling Mickey Hot Springs which are not meant to be soaked in, but provided memorable and stunning scenery.

On our last morning we were on the road by 9:00am - a full day of driving all the way back to Portland from Mann Lake. Still on gravel, enjoying the scenery, suddenly the bumpiness got REALLY bumpy. I elbowed Liane to steer the car back onto the smoother part, but she said, "I think we have another flat." No slow leak this time. Major blowout. It was only 9:30am. We sprang into action and changed to the spare in fifteen minutes; yes, we rock! The tire had a couple small punctures and five huge gashes - whoa! What's crazy is that once we got rolling again, the evil gravel road became paved only 100 yards away. grrrr

The nearest Les Schwab was in Burns, but it was Sunday and they were closed. So we made it to Crane and spent our last day at the Crystal Crane Hot Springs cabins instead! How convenient. :)

All in all it was a wonderful adventure, including the flat tires, which brought experiences we might not have had otherwise. Definitely a must-do again. LOTS MORE PHOTOS HERE.

Beacon Rock and Hamilton Mountain

Columbia River, Beacon Rock far left in distance

I-205 north across the Columbia River, then east on Highway 14 for 28 miles. The eastbound highway view of Mount Hood is way better on the Washington side for some reason. I guess when you're on I-84 you're at the base of the Oregon side Columbia Gorge cliffs, and so Hoody is hidden.

Beacon Rock. Hamilton Mountain in the rear.

This was my first time hiking 848-foot Beacon Rock. Claimed to be one of the northern hemisphere's largest free-standing monoliths, it is the throat of a former volcano. Oooh! The rest of it got eroded by the Columbia River millions of years ago. It's just shy of a mile to the top on a paved and railed trail. EASY. I made the mistake of bringing my entire pack though, so I had a rougher time than the regulars overtaking me with just a small Evian in hand. I should have figured it would be a quick trip to the top.


Looking northeast I could see the peak of Hamilton Mountain, at 2,400 feet; my next stop. Back down Beacon Rock and across the street to the Hamilton trail head. Nice and shady trail, with a steady 600-foot climb for the first mile. Then it descends to a beefy wooden bridge spanning Rodney Falls.


Above the bridge a side trail takes you right up to the fall's first tier where you can watch it furiously plunge into a small pool creating a misty whirlwind within its circular rock walls.


The trail from here leads you up to Hamilton Mountain via 2 miles of very steep switchbacks. Definitely not for the couch potato. Even though I've been working out a bunch lately, I still had to take numerous breaks to catch my breath.

I finally got to a clearing, a nice rock outcropping with a view of just the tip of Mount Hood to the south. Breezy up there. The guttural call of a raven sounded excitingly nearby, and suddenly three of them soared up right in front of me, acrobatically, in the hot updraft blowing against the cliff face a few feet away.

Bonneville Dam

I found a little path around to the front of the cliff and a tiny place to sit, so I sat. Perched there only inches away from a sheer 2,000-foot drop, I could see the whitewash of the river far below pushing through Bonneville Dam, and a bird's eye view of... well, a bird's eye. This time three turkey vultures came soaring down to check me out - I wish I had my camera ready for that, as one of them came within 15 feet! Awesome!!

Looking down on Beacon Rock from Hamilton Mountain

I didn't make it to the tippy top, several hundred feet higher. I figured this was good enough, and besides it was late afternoon. The way down went pretty fast, though hard on the toes and knees. All in all, a very good hike. I'd do it again. Somebody join me next time? :)

I was somewhere on the edge of that cliff to the right

Bye bye Big Island

Aloha - I'm going to summarize our last 4 days on Big Island in one entry. We went to visit Grandma Yoshimura at Aunty Donna's house Saturday morning. My mom happened to be visiting from Maui that weekend, yeay! Grandma is 83 and sharp as a tack. She works out at the gym 3 times a week! dude... We enjoyed hearing her talk story in her precious Japanese-Pidgin English and then she taught us how to play Hanafuda.

Liane and I drove south around the island to meet up with our friends Rowan and Shannon in the tiny town of Volcano. The vog (volcanic smog) on the Kona side was the worst I've ever seen it but as soon as we reached South Point the weather was gorgeous. Big news: the current lava flow which sprung up from a fissure to the east of Pu'u O'o vent back in July '07 finally reached the ocean last Thursday. A blessing was made and an access road to view the lava was opened to the public on Saturday. We tried to go that evening but the road was closed due to an overwhelming amount of visitors.

Every Sunday morning Volcano Village hosts a bustling farmer's market which has the best produce I've seen in the state! Very pleased to see this kind of healthy/eco/artist community exists here - I wanna live there! Took a tour of the beautiful house Rowan and Shannon are building then we did a hike in the Hawaii Volcanoes National Park. The Kilauea Iki Trail hugs the rainforested rim of the crater where we could hear the red and black Apapane honey creeper's bird song-chirp and wing whir. The trail then drops down, traversing the flat wide-open lava rock crater floor punctured with sulfur steam vents.

That night the four of us decided to try to see the active lava flow again despite rumors and signs that it had suddenly "stopped flowing". Millions of other people had the same idea and the parking area was still full. After driving an hour, we had to walk 2 miles past all the parked cars, finally reaching the trail. Spent another half an hour hiking over undulating lava rock in the dark with flashlights. It was a pilgrimage of Pele, the Hawaiian Fire Goddess. The flow had indeed slowed down but was still sending small streams of molten rock into the ocean and there were large hot glowing cracks along on the trail. We could see several patches of firey orange higher up the slope. The sky was clear with a setting crescent moon and STARS galore, and we could hear the waves crashing on the nearby cliff. F*ing Awesome.

Monday morning we were treated with a helicopter ride OVER the lava flow! My dad's partner won a gift certificate and gave it to us - Thanks Linda! Although it was very brief we got incredible views of Hilo's numerous waterfalls, the steaming Pu'u O'o vent, the lava-damaged roads and houses, and the lava pouring into the ocean. WOW! Unforgettable for sure.

Can you see the red lava?

Drove back to Kona side via Saddle Road between 13,000+ ft snow-sprinkled Mauna Loa and Mauna Kea. Sad to leave clear skies to enter the vog and rain. Checked into historic Manago Hotel in Capt. Cook.

We spent our last days hanging out and snorkeling at Honaunau, one of my favorite places in the world to be. I love the energy down there, so calm but exciting. It's a popular snorkel and dive spot with super easy access giving it its "Two Step" nickname. We saw several eels swimming freely and a small octopus! Octopi are so rad - we watched this one put on a psychedelic light and texture show on its skin and whip its tentacle out at fish. Saw a turtle get cleaned by fish on the reef floor. You could tell it was a regular cleaning station as the coral was all broken and flattened there, and the turtle was literally backed in to a garage-like coral opening!
We soaked up the last of our Hawaiian sun and surf and flew out Wednesday. Back to 50-degree Portland. Wahhhh! But it's good to be home.

dad and I watching sunset at 69 beach

like father like daughter!

Puako

They say you could dive at Puako every day for the rest of your life and still not see it all, and I believe 'em! This incredible reef with canyons and caves has a depth varying between 20 - 90 feet and extends about 150 feet from shore then drops off into the abyss. We scoped out an easy entry spot over the rocky shoreline (accessed by telephone pole #115 off Puako Beach Rd. for future reference) which was also cluttered with turtles.

female bird wrasse

Cauliflower and lobe coral dominate creating a high-rise city for schools of black and yellow tangs, masked raccoon and threadfin butterfly fishes, lau wiliwili nukunuku oi oi (rare long nose butterfly fish found only on Kona Coast), blue-green pointy nosed male bird wrasses always speeding by, tiny fluorescent rainbow cleaner wrasses, pinktail and lei triggerfishes (cousins of humuhumu nukunuku apua'a), orange-eyed goldring surgeonfishes, enormous shy peacock groupers and graceful sailfin tangs, razor sharp looking orange-spined tang, bloated striped-belly puffers and miniature Hawaiian whitespotted tobies, creamsicle colored arc-eye hawkfishes and freckle-faced blackside hawkfish perched on the coral cliffs.

yellow tang

Liane has a knack for spotting eels and was lucky enough to see one swimming freely across the bottom. I did get to see a different eel, a large whitemouth moray opening and closing its jaws.

We swam to the edge of the reef, to the deep blue abyss, which is pretty freaky. There's something about being surrounded by lots of deep water far from shore that makes you look around to see if there are any sharks. eek. But we went out there because we could HEAR whales singing. I'm serious. There was a low groaning moan interspersed with a higher pitched voice. Wow. This area is now in my top 3 snorkel spots. The other two are Honaunau (City of Refuge) on Big Island, and Honolua Bay on Maui.

goodbye Molokai, hello Big Island

(sorry I'm behind on the blog... catching up to what's current as quick as i can)

Woke up early again to witness our last sunrise on Molokai. The sky was so clear we could actually see the Big Island far off in the distance between Maui and Kaho'olawe. Wow. Spent our last few hours at Dixie Maru beach swimming and shell hunting. The plane to Kona was another tiny 9-passenger cessna, but there were only 4 of us passengers! I could look over the pilot's shoulder to see all his controls and out the front window to watch him land the plane. Way cool!

Staying with dad and Linda for a few nights in dry windy Waikoloa. Yesterday we took a tour of my dad's workplace, the super fancy $1,000/room Four Seasons Resort. He is in the maintenance department but is also the resident artist and gets to paint murals and seasonal displays. Interesting to see the resort side of Hawaii and what people can spend their money on.
From there we took the beach path south to Kukio Bay which was crowded with sea turtles. Yipeee! Snorkeling was great - it's 10 times better on Big Island than Molokai. Just a lot more variety in fish and terrain. We saw a huge cowrie about the size of a Nerf football.

Kalaupapa

Kalaupapa is the site of the leper colony started in 1866 by order of King Kamehameha V. Father Damien arrived in 1873 and ministered to the patients until he contracted the disease himself and died in 1889.

The Kalaupapa Peninsula is on the north side of Molokai, 3 sides surrounded by ocean, the 4th by a 1,600-foot cliff. You can only get there by boat, plane, hiking, or riding a mule. We chose to hike in and out, 3 miles and 26 switchbacks of steps steps steps. Originally I planned for us to hike down and fly out, but it was the one thing I didn't get to book in time, and the flight we needed was sold out. Soooo, we kind of had no choice but to hike out.
Hit the trail by 7:30am. It was so humid we were sweating buckets. I think even if we were just standing still we'd sweat that much. Awesome views of the peninsula below and ridiculously melodic birdsong on the way down. We met 15 other hikers at the bottom and waited for about 15 mule riders. Visitors to Kalaupapa must be invited by the patients or be part of the official Damien Tour which is run by residents of Kalaupapa.

The bus tour started at 10:00am and ended at 1:00pm. Visited Father Damien's grave and church and learned the basics of the history and hardships of the patients. Lots of it very sad and moving. Leprosy (Hansen's Disease) is now curable and the patients are no longer exiled there, they are free to come and go as they please though most choose to live the rest of their lives there, including relatives. Only 27 patients still living there, youngest is 66, oldest 87.

Our lunch break was taken at the other side of the peninsula in Kalawao, the original leper settlement. From there we could see the hump of tiny Mokapu Island and pointy Huelo Island with WHALES frolicking about in front of them. One slapped its tail 29 times, and several of them slapped their fins in the water. Everyone delighted when an adult and a baby whale leapt out at the same time splashing down hard. That north east side of Molokai has the tallest sea cliffs in the world, rising over 3,000 feet.

Before we hit the trail back up, Liane took a brief skinny dip at the perfect beach at the foot of the cliffs. Then it was a sweaty and heart-thumping up, up, up, up. Hiking out was a great experience, I'm glad we did it actually. Well, sort of... my quads are still sore 3 days later, I can barely waddle around.