This blog is all about me. There, I said it. They’re all my stories, sometimes about my friends. I tell the tales and I write what I want to.
But when it comes to photos, they’re mostly ones I take of others. Hardly anyone ever snaps one of me. So on a recent solo trip to Canada’s Gulf Islands, I decided to make a point of taking some photos of myself: fun, selfish, or selfie? Continue reading “Self(ish) Portraits”→
I admit it, I’m fascinated by the South Salish Sea. It’s not just that it’s closer than any other salt water site to my home. There’s something about its intimacy, its understated beauty, and its less developed shoreline that draws me back year after year. Continue reading “South Again”→
Crab claws, lichens, shells, and stones from all over the world have taken up residence in my home. They’re in bowls, on windowsills, and shelves in ever larger numbers, and it’s my fault. Continue reading “Rocking Out”→
It can be hard to get a teenager out of the house at times, but when you do, the results can be quite good. Case in point: When the Columbia was roaring along during the spring freshet I convinced Merry to come mess about in the backwaters of Smith and Bybee Wetlands. Continue reading “Messing About with Merry”→
Bill is one of those friends always up for an adventure. After a fine dinner with him last night, I was reminded of a story from a few months ago… It’s 27 degrees outside, and although I yearn to go sailing, it doesn’t seem like the wisest idea. But maybe I should reconsider. After all, on at least one of the occasions Bill and I rounded Cape Horn together, the waterfalls were frozen; so it must have been pretty cold then, too. That day, like many others, we were driven by unknowable forces to leave the couch, break away from our electronics and experience the raw elements. Read the rest across the jump at Three Sheets NW.
At least once every year my biking buddies and I end up on the dry side of Oregon. We drive from the wet Willamette Valley to ride on those rolling, grassy hills in the central part of our state. It takes a couple of hours to get there and back, but we do it willingly.
If Portlanders consider the dry side at all, they don’t think anything is in central Oregon. If you press them, they may mention that they passed through there or that people grow wheat there, but few, if anyone has actually set foot there. So why do we go? Continue reading “Go East”→