Friday, September 9, 2016

The Gods Must Be Angry

I had begun to to think we'd angered the gods. Camp after camp was too near a road, adjacent a shooting range, and in one amazing incident WAY the hell out in the wildest steppe of Central Oregon, several trucks, one pulling a 25'  horse trailer full of dogs pulled up barely 300' away. Four women climbed out and began training the dogs. 

First up straddles her ATV and drives a quarter mile up the side of the nearby hill. From this vantage she can observe the dog's workings, but we're downwind. The breeze carried the shrill whistlings and the voice commands, calm and assured at first, were soon growing strident as the dog succumbed to the need to meet and greet us. I put on my pants and glared, but the distance was too far to be effective. 

Leaving, I stopped by to learn how they'd picked this spot out of the millions of surrounding acres. Contrary to what GPS assured was Nat'l Forest, I was politely informed I was on private land. It's been known to be wrong, but since they weren't the actual owners I shared my skepticism...and trundled off. Sheesh!

And so it went. 


A week later I was reviewing some notes on campsites and realized we were sitting on the doorstep. Driving through the creek was cake for Phoebe and as we rounded the bend next to the tree we knew we were home.








Smith went wild. THIS was what she'd signed on for! She got a running start from the far side of the open area and flung herself half way up! 





Faith restored.