Only in PDX

 Multnomah Falls mostly encased in ice

In yesterday's post I mentioned the ice storms that occasionally occur in the PDX (Portland) area. Here's an amusing story about one of those storms.

Some years ago we had a bitter ice storm one evening. We were gazing out the front window marveling at the shiny blacktop coated with ice, and the plants and trees that were being encrusted as the tiny slivers of ice fell. I noticed something very odd. A pickup truck parked in front of the uphill neighbor's seemed to be almost imperceptibly sliding down the hill. It was moving only a fraction of an inch at a time, but moving it was.

The pickup belonged to some new neighbors, who were so new we didn't have their phone number. But somehow we had to let them know that their vehicle was in trouble, and in a position to cause mayhem on our street.  Craig volunteered to go up the hill and across the street. But wait, there was an ice storm, so how was he going to get there?  It was impossible to walk, so he did the next best thing. He crawled up the hill. And across the street, and to their door.

By then the pickup's movements were more apparent and something had to be done before it careened down the hill. The resident got a long rope and crawled under the pickup, then tied the rope to the axle. He made his way back to the garage, and tied the other end to the heavy-duty garage door track. And that stopped the truck from sliding down the hill.

On a related note, not in the same winter, a downtown resident standing on his balcony caught the mayhem on the street after an ice storm.  This video is 4 minutes long--watch until the 2:45 point.

2 photographs of the beauty created by an ice storm; I stole these off the internet so they may or may not be taken locally, but the effect of ice is the same anywhere

The Blues Give Me the Blues (in winter)

 The blue wall near La Grande

On Monday I drove home from Sugar City Idaho in one long 14-hour stretch, which included two quickie fill-ups and a good lunch at Cracker Barrel in Boise. Three of my grandchildren were with me; they had fun playing with their cousins, Sweetie and Little Miss Destructo (the latter will grow out of that stage someday). The drive to Sugar last week gave us dry clear roads; coming home: not so much.

 The Snake River near Ontario

The first flakes appeared as we crossed the Snake River into Ontario Oregon, and we saw a couple of state troopers heading into the foothills of the Blue Mountains. Mmmmm, either there's a wreck ahead or one of those nasty Blue-blizzards up there. Not too many miles later, we saw the semis, a hundred, and probably more, lined up on the right side chaining up. What a memorable sight!. The drivers and their helpers and some troopers were scurrying to get the big rigs set and on their way. The flakes were heavier now but there was not yet much build up on the road.

 
That changed quickly and as is usual in bad weather, I won first prize for slowest car on the road. We did the climb up the east side of the Blues and eventually a snowplow appeared ahead. I pulled in behind it and followed it for miles until the driver inexplicably left the road (a smoke? a pee?). It got more dicey then, driving on a snow floor over the summit. About the time we reached the rest stop on the west side of the summit, the snow vanished. I was grateful not to have to navigate down steep, windy Cabbage Hill on a snow floor. And that this was a relatively mild Blues-storm.

The beautiful Blues near Cabbage Hill (in summer!)

Cabbage Hill. Stairway to Heaven. Ladd Canyon. Mt. Emily. Deadman Pass. These are just a few of the picturesque locations in the Blue Mountains of Eastern Oregon. Pioneers from the 1840s on forced their wagons through here, and in a few places wagon ruts still exist. I can only imagine the crushing despair Oregon-bound travelers of old felt when, after already navigating 1700 miles of Great Plains and Rocky Mountains, suddenly faced what looked like an impenetrable blue wall so close to their destination. And now, we breeze over that wall even in the feathery whiteness (or wicked blizzard) of a winter snowstorm.

An October Day in Oregon

These photos of spectators at Brooklyn's soccer game last week need no words except to say this is a typical Oregon October day!

The Leaves, They Are a-Changin'

Fall is finally in full swing, my favorite time of year.  Here are a few photos I took with my phone while out walking this week. The first two pics were taken in our neighborhood area. The last one is up in Forest Heights, a high-end community about 4 miles from us, in the foothills of the Tualatin Mountains. Our flowering cherry tree has begun dropping leaves so I did the first rake-up today to feed the compost pile.

Happy Spring or Summer!

It has been a long-haul winter and spring/summer has finally unveiled itself. Friday was in the 70s, Saturday in the mid 80s, and there’s no going back to the 40s now. Maybe.

I do love rain, but 47 inches of it in the first four months of 2011 was a little much. It isn’t the rain itself that I mind, but you can’t put your garden in when the soil is like dense chocolate fudge, or thick chocolate milk. The seeds will rot in the ground, and you'll be mud up to your ankles. 

That much rain makes hiking difficult, not because you can’t hike while it’s falling. You can. And I do. But many of the trails are turned to deep mush in those conditions which limits where you can safely go. The Eagle Creek trail, for instance, would be out of the question when it’s one long gooey mud-pit. If you slip and fall there, it’s a long way down the cliff to your funeral.

A week ago (May 28) Craig and I went up to Portland’s lovely Rose Garden. It was the eve of the beginning of the annual month-long Rose Festival, and the thousands of rose bushes are usually in full glory this time of year. We stood up at the top surveying the gardens spreading below, and there was NOT ONE ROSE to be seen. We strolled through the rows of bushes. The buds were tight as a clenched fist. Then we saw it—one bush sporting one fully open flower! It was a salmon-color rose bucking the trend. A few other buds on the bush were partly open. And that was it. When we got back in the car we noticed the temperature was 49 degrees. On May 28.

 A view of a small corner of the Rose Gardens May 28, 2011.  The flowers in the foreground are rhododendrons, which normally are in full glorious bloom around Mothers Day.

 

A White Christmas

A person from Minnesota or the Northeast would laugh at how Oregonians react to snow, especially in the Portland Metro area. At the first flake people make alternate plans for work, schools consider shutting down, Tri-Met chains up its bus fleet, and grocery stores are mobbed with folks stocking up as if for an extended siege. To be fair, it must be said that there are only 2 or 3 snowplows to cover the entire tri-county area which Portland covers. Which means if you live in suburbia you're on your own. Your roads will not be plowed or sanded or rocked. The freeways and overpasses will be, but you'll have to rent a sleigh to get there.

Though snow usually falls over one or two days, then melts within a few days, December 2008 was not like that. On Sunday morning, December 14, the snow began to fall thickly. By church-time the buildup caused the cancellation of all meetings, and the Bishop directed people to hold services in homes with their neighbors from the ward. We joined a memorable sweet service at the Hyde's apartment with about a dozen others that day.

grandkids sledding on our hill

Over the next two weeks, snow fell every day but one which led to the cancellation of an entire week of school, 3 weeks without garbage pickup, and a second Sunday of meetings held with neighbors. On that Sunday I skiied over to the Laney's house while the rest of the family walked. Freezing rain had left a sheet of ice between layers of snow. Every glide tinkled like shattering glass as my skis punched through the ice.

 our small congregation December 21

This snow was a wonderful gift. I was able to go out on my x-c skis almost daily (except during freezing rain), and most days, twice. I toured neighborhoods in every direction and skiied around the golf course after dark. Night skiing is magical; it's solitude at its sweetest. I felt immersed in a Christmas carol or part of a Christmas card scene.

These next two photos are a little blurry due to water drops on the lens. When gliding through this narrow path in the drifts I half expected to meet Lucy and Mr. Tumnus by the lamp-post at the other end.

 our backyard

other area views

We enjoyed an unusual White Christmas. Some events were postponed because of the snow and the cancellation of school. Our church Christmas program was held on Dec 28. The Westview High School choir concert, always held just before the two-week vacation begins, was held after Christmas. Hundreds of attendees and musicians were all smiles as we sang together, I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas . . .   On January 7th!

A Rare Three-Percent Day

Pittock Mansion on a 3% day

A post a day in November . . . .

It was shocking and wonderful to wake up to bright blue sky today after weeks of mostly heavy gray clouds spouting on-and-off rain. Around here (Northwest Oregon), a day like today is called a "three-percent day," meaning no more than three percent of the sky is covered with clouds. It's a rare event, and likely happens about three percent of our days annually. Which if true, would give us only eleven days a year of pure blue sky. So how did I gain maximum enjoyment on this extraordinary occasion? After church I mostly laid on the couch reading and enjoying the sun through the window!

I've been working for the US Census Bureau, knocking on doors, and have polished my skill of dodging raindrops. It's not the getting wet that's bothersome as my water-repellent clothing works well. It's keeping the paper materials from getting soggy that's tricky. Yesterday I spent ten minutes in the car doing paperwork waiting for the biggest drops to quit falling.

Going door-to-door for my job I have learned:

1. 98% of people are at the least, cordial, most are pleasant, and many are downright friendly.

2. Roughly 75% of people own dogs. Some are yippy dogs but more have deep, daunting barks. Most are untrained, thus badly behaved.

3. You can usually will the weather to hold just long enough to get the job done.

4. Being friendly, easy-going, and forgiving can fend off hostilities.

5. You can get some great landscaping ideas from neighborhood yards. You also clue in on some great big landscaping "don'ts" and that goes for paint jobs too. And yard decorations. And the storing of trash cans, old cars, useless junk, old toys, etc.

Yay! Day one is done!