Monday, September 5, 2011

And we don't have more long weekends... why?

Summer remains in full swing in Oregon; temps in the 90's, dry days, full sun. This made for a beautiful time to head east in search of stars.

Our frugality and practicality won out over our romantic relationship with camping. While building the mental list and beginning to pull out the gear we would need for two nights of primitive camping in the back of the pickup at 6ooo ft, it all seemed like a bit much. For a week, yes, but two nights? Groan. Running the numbers, we deduced the cost of gas in the pickup for the trip compared to the cost of gas in the Beetle was... more than a night in a hotel room if I could snag a deal on Priceline.

$60 later we were packing modest overnight backpacks and headed to Bend.

A lovely drive, perfect for talking about life, love and the pursuit of happiness between two people who have been enjoying it together and seeking more for over 22 years.

Traveling through our beautiful Oregon we enjoyed the change of scenery, but know that the green valley is our preference over the brown crisp dryness of the dessert. Bend is beautiful, and was in full swing as the active citizenry went about frolicking in the days of summer we've been gifted with. We enjoyed temps in the 90's during the day, but then discovered ourselves freezing standing out on a flat off of Pine Mountain well after midnight in 37 degree air as I got my feet wet taking long exposure shots of the stars. My head was filled with the pondering of how insignificant we are after a long evening spent at Pine Mountain Observatory.

See some visuals on Flickr.

Today I'd planned to head up to Tacoma to dive with a friend. But for the first time in my life, I slept not a wink last night. After not sleeping much Friday or Saturday, it seemed odd that I lie awake, without worry or care, but without any interest in sleeping, all night Sunday. I watched the clock with dread; I'd said if I didn't get at least three hours, I'd call off the dive because heading down to the bottle field at Redondo is not something I cared to do in less than good condition. I saw every hour and median march by. Bummer. I called my buddy at 5:30, we were to meet at 7:30 in Salmon Creek, to declare my surrender. Big bummer, I was going to christen my new tanks. But... it strongly felt like the right thing to do, and lately I've come to again appreciate that "the feeling" I get might not always be understood, but it's always right.

No comments:

Post a Comment