You will remember I took a trip last month. I'm sure I mentioned I have been writing about it. Seems like ages, doesn't it?
Well, I've actually written two articles. The first one is here and the other will be published later in the week after I've tweaked it a bit more.
Thanks for reading it.
Saturday, July 27, 2013
Friday, July 26, 2013
No photos
In other news, the turkey hen crossed the road and went into the woods with about eight poults. (That's right, Google spellcheck, "poults.")
I was taking a nap in the dungeon when the wife called from upstairs. I grabbed my camera but was too late. My count might be a bit off as well.
Another nap was in order when I came home from town today. I had some sinus issues, I imagined caused by whatever was constituting the haze beside and along with the wheat harvest. I medicated and as I sat down on the couch and propped up my legs, decided to check email one more time. Here is was just shy of quitting time for state employees and my friend from ODA was letting me know some burns were about to commence.
Tough. I needed to sleep. Yet, I did stand back up and have a look northward, just to get a bearing for later.
I have just returned from "later." I thought to maybe photograph the fields with some long shadows falling. The big bales of hay looked nice in the rolling fields but I drove on.
I came home skunked. Must've been far off the roads.
So, you get these from yesterday:
And this one from a whole two weeks ago:
I rather like this last one.
I wish they'd get crackin' on more fields cracklin'.
I was taking a nap in the dungeon when the wife called from upstairs. I grabbed my camera but was too late. My count might be a bit off as well.
Another nap was in order when I came home from town today. I had some sinus issues, I imagined caused by whatever was constituting the haze beside and along with the wheat harvest. I medicated and as I sat down on the couch and propped up my legs, decided to check email one more time. Here is was just shy of quitting time for state employees and my friend from ODA was letting me know some burns were about to commence.
Tough. I needed to sleep. Yet, I did stand back up and have a look northward, just to get a bearing for later.
I have just returned from "later." I thought to maybe photograph the fields with some long shadows falling. The big bales of hay looked nice in the rolling fields but I drove on.
I came home skunked. Must've been far off the roads.
So, you get these from yesterday:
And this one from a whole two weeks ago:
I rather like this last one.
I wish they'd get crackin' on more fields cracklin'.
Thursday, July 18, 2013
Mostly smokey
Mojo asks if the field burns ever get out of control. The short answer is: Not very often.
I have seen where the water truck that dampens the perimeter of a burn area may have missed a spot and the fire has crept out toward the road, and I have heard a story or two over the years of a jump, yet these are rarities. Meteorological conditions are considered, roads blocked and fires orchestrated. It is actually a spectacular sight to behold. Imagine an eighty-acre field where once the fire is sufficiently sparked, the plume rises five thousand feet into the air with the grass chaff and stubble is blackened in five minutes.
I have seen where the water truck that dampens the perimeter of a burn area may have missed a spot and the fire has crept out toward the road, and I have heard a story or two over the years of a jump, yet these are rarities. Meteorological conditions are considered, roads blocked and fires orchestrated. It is actually a spectacular sight to behold. Imagine an eighty-acre field where once the fire is sufficiently sparked, the plume rises five thousand feet into the air with the grass chaff and stubble is blackened in five minutes.
Saturday, July 13, 2013
First of the season
As anticipated, I received the email announcing the burns for the day. I was on the road at the time and rerouted with the hope my knowledge of the fields and roads that run along them would find me lucky.
These are jpegs. I shot RAW as well. After all, I don't want to burn myself again.
Oh, and after more than doubling up at the home game last night, I left with a very small profit but with a belly full of laughs.
These are jpegs. I shot RAW as well. After all, I don't want to burn myself again.
Oh, and after more than doubling up at the home game last night, I left with a very small profit but with a belly full of laughs.
Friday, July 12, 2013
Where there's smoke
It seems fitting to check in again, in that the neighbor with the wood pile worked four days this week, waiting to start splitting today.
I did a bit of firewood-related this week, not to his scale, mind you, but I will not let that stop me from remarking as a way to provide an update on another subject.
As a dedicated bunch (bless your hearts), you know of the issues with Thumper, the gut and attitude that have kept the heavier farm-related activities to a minimum over these past —sheesh— five years or so. You may also recall I was told last September that further rest —up to a year— was the best option, despite my fret of neglecting said duties as they mounted.
Well, I think it safe to say the gut issues are finally under control, and with that some energy returned, evidenced by the firewoody thing. The bucked logs strewn about the place since last October have been picked up and hauled to outside the barn; the cord and a half of split that sat under a tarp most of the winter is short a quarter of being put up; and, although pooped from that effort, I talked myself into seeing if I could still swing a six-pound and hit a wedge "just so" to see what I was up against for the estimated half-cord of oak, crab apple and cherry now waiting.
Thumper complained only once. And although I was ready for bed three hours earlier than usual and slept nine, I can only minimally complain about a corresponding level of soreness and fatigue this morning. A day of rest and I'll be right as rain.
But that's not the only news.
Hay season is here. Actually, it's been here for several weeks now, some bales still sitting in the fields while windrows abound.
It's in those windrows, you see. I was mistaken.
I received my first email from the State two days ago that a field burning would be taking place that afternoon.
Indeed, a drive yesterday into the rolling hills south of us brought with it hundreds of acres of windrows and a smaller proportion of chaff.
Yesterday's winds no doubt prevented more burns (couldn't find the one that happened Wednesday), but given conditions today, I reckon this afternoon will find me chasing plumes.
And then a home game this evening.
I should probably take a nap.
I did a bit of firewood-related this week, not to his scale, mind you, but I will not let that stop me from remarking as a way to provide an update on another subject.
As a dedicated bunch (bless your hearts), you know of the issues with Thumper, the gut and attitude that have kept the heavier farm-related activities to a minimum over these past —sheesh— five years or so. You may also recall I was told last September that further rest —up to a year— was the best option, despite my fret of neglecting said duties as they mounted.
Well, I think it safe to say the gut issues are finally under control, and with that some energy returned, evidenced by the firewoody thing. The bucked logs strewn about the place since last October have been picked up and hauled to outside the barn; the cord and a half of split that sat under a tarp most of the winter is short a quarter of being put up; and, although pooped from that effort, I talked myself into seeing if I could still swing a six-pound and hit a wedge "just so" to see what I was up against for the estimated half-cord of oak, crab apple and cherry now waiting.
Thumper complained only once. And although I was ready for bed three hours earlier than usual and slept nine, I can only minimally complain about a corresponding level of soreness and fatigue this morning. A day of rest and I'll be right as rain.
But that's not the only news.
Hay season is here. Actually, it's been here for several weeks now, some bales still sitting in the fields while windrows abound.
It's in those windrows, you see. I was mistaken.
I received my first email from the State two days ago that a field burning would be taking place that afternoon.
Indeed, a drive yesterday into the rolling hills south of us brought with it hundreds of acres of windrows and a smaller proportion of chaff.
Yesterday's winds no doubt prevented more burns (couldn't find the one that happened Wednesday), but given conditions today, I reckon this afternoon will find me chasing plumes.
And then a home game this evening.
I should probably take a nap.
Monday, July 8, 2013
Over the course
You'll remember our neighbors, the ones who mow their lawn twice a week, sometimes twice a day. Industrious folks. Well, I should take a picture of their yard right now, and if he isn't taking the day off tomorrow I might just do that before the sun reaches their side of things and poses a problem for my lens.
Yesterday morning they received a log truck's load of fir logs, I counted about twenty in all with bases all around eighteen inches in diameter and tips a good fifty feet further on. Just as they have every other year since we've been here.
By 10:30 he had his 30-inch chainsaw in hand and started bucking away in eighteen-inch lengths. He took a half hour break at dinner time, worked another hour and a half and packed it in after a total of ten hours of sawing. It being the Sabbath and all today, he waited until 10:00 to begin again and by 4:30 he was done.
While he cut, the wife moved the cut and stacked the pieces end-to-end and three high all about a perimeter until a nice little fort was made, the yard of the enclosure covered in chips. This is what I'd like to photograph. I would have earlier today, but like I said, the sun.
Always impressive, even more so given he's likely five years my senior.
I am curious about the removal of the wood chips, how they will do it and where they will burn them, but more what direction the wind will be when that time comes.
So, in response, I painted weeds blue for four hours. The yard is pretty much under control but the back paddocks and pasture had their surprises. A few previously camouflaged scotch broom presented their green selves amid the dying grasses, as did the tansy that had yet to bloom. All were dispatched. And I put a dent in the blackberries as well. But Lord, the thistles this year! An impossible feat.
"Can you mow them?" asked my wife.
"I could." But I changed my answer to "I will later" when I remembered what I wanted to tell her earlier in the day.
"There's a turkey hen sitting on eggs in the east field, not too far from the pond."
"Are you sure?"
The type of bird and gender, yes, although I will admit that I saw no eggs. Yet, given that she did not move as I hit a bit of tansy five feet away and my nose detected a funk I hadn't experienced since we offed the ducks, meaning that she wasn't moving for much of anything, I figured she had her reasons.
So, we wait.
If the neighbor took the week off from his job, I could be SOL on the photo because he will no doubt split tomorrow and the next day while the wife stacks in the shed.
Then I reckon it'll be time for them to paint their house as they do every year.
And the heads on the thistles turn purple.
UPDATE
Got it.
Yesterday morning they received a log truck's load of fir logs, I counted about twenty in all with bases all around eighteen inches in diameter and tips a good fifty feet further on. Just as they have every other year since we've been here.
By 10:30 he had his 30-inch chainsaw in hand and started bucking away in eighteen-inch lengths. He took a half hour break at dinner time, worked another hour and a half and packed it in after a total of ten hours of sawing. It being the Sabbath and all today, he waited until 10:00 to begin again and by 4:30 he was done.
While he cut, the wife moved the cut and stacked the pieces end-to-end and three high all about a perimeter until a nice little fort was made, the yard of the enclosure covered in chips. This is what I'd like to photograph. I would have earlier today, but like I said, the sun.
Always impressive, even more so given he's likely five years my senior.
I am curious about the removal of the wood chips, how they will do it and where they will burn them, but more what direction the wind will be when that time comes.
So, in response, I painted weeds blue for four hours. The yard is pretty much under control but the back paddocks and pasture had their surprises. A few previously camouflaged scotch broom presented their green selves amid the dying grasses, as did the tansy that had yet to bloom. All were dispatched. And I put a dent in the blackberries as well. But Lord, the thistles this year! An impossible feat.
"Can you mow them?" asked my wife.
"I could." But I changed my answer to "I will later" when I remembered what I wanted to tell her earlier in the day.
"There's a turkey hen sitting on eggs in the east field, not too far from the pond."
"Are you sure?"
The type of bird and gender, yes, although I will admit that I saw no eggs. Yet, given that she did not move as I hit a bit of tansy five feet away and my nose detected a funk I hadn't experienced since we offed the ducks, meaning that she wasn't moving for much of anything, I figured she had her reasons.
So, we wait.
If the neighbor took the week off from his job, I could be SOL on the photo because he will no doubt split tomorrow and the next day while the wife stacks in the shed.
Then I reckon it'll be time for them to paint their house as they do every year.
And the heads on the thistles turn purple.
UPDATE
Got it.
Tuesday, July 2, 2013
Photo Dump 2
Up close.
Winding roads make for slow, careful travel. Add narrow as a descriptive and not only does speed decrease further and caution increases, stopping to photograph is not always an option for fear of the odd vehicle coming around a bend blind.
Similarly, although I saw many place I would have liked to try my luck with rod and reel, I was in Diamondback territory.
This fellow's name is Leonard. He's a miner with a stake or two in the mountains and fifteen miles off a paved road. He mines Thundereggs, our state rock. His mine is linked in my link. He told me he's almost 100 years old and he was a bit wobbly to be sure. Yet, see that buldge under his jacket on the right side? That's a .44.
While I worried a bit about bears in my campsites, this bunny was somewhat reassuring that there were either none in this area or I wouldn't be low enough on the food chain.
Winding roads make for slow, careful travel. Add narrow as a descriptive and not only does speed decrease further and caution increases, stopping to photograph is not always an option for fear of the odd vehicle coming around a bend blind.
Similarly, although I saw many place I would have liked to try my luck with rod and reel, I was in Diamondback territory.
Qucickdraw contest in Canyon City.
Everyone was packin'. Nice blade. Note the iPhone.
Shoe tree out in the middle of nowhere.
Sumpter train and dredge in an old gold mining town. Tailings for miles on end.
No idea.
Cooperative goats.
Monday, July 1, 2013
Photo Dump 1
I returned home from my eastern Oregon journey last evening and I have a lot of catching up to do in my social networking obligations, domestic duties and farm chores. I have stories to tell, yet I am not certain time will allow any to make it to these pages as I did take this trip in part to find material for my publisher, and making something of that will no doubt account for much of my time and thinking for the next week or more.
Still, I will find time to go through the many photos I took along the way and dump a few your way over the next couple of days, some with commentary, others without.
Today will be vistas.
Still, I will find time to go through the many photos I took along the way and dump a few your way over the next couple of days, some with commentary, others without.
Today will be vistas.
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