February 27, 2007 by Brian.

To gaze on these gray waters of the coasts of Oregon and Washington is to gaze on the final resting place of hundreds of men, women, and children, some crew and some passengers, lost when their ships sank in the cold, dark, treacherous waters of the Pacific Northwest. They rest in the unforgiving, merciless bosom of Davy Jones, who grants neither religious burials nor familial last goodbyes. They lived their final moments in terror and lie forgotten amongst the wreckage of their lost craft under a layer of silt that aids the departure of our memory. Only their sparse descendant relatives, if they had any, carry with them the heavy remembrance of these lost souls.  

The photos which I include here seem peaceful, even serene, but if this is the smile of these shores, imagine its fanged, growling countenance in stormy weather. Add to it the ever-shifting sandbars at the mouth of the Columbia, which must be bested to reach Portland, Oregon, and the swift currents and tumultuous waves, which only barely hide granite knives, along the Strait of Juan De Fuca, which leads to Seattle, Victoria, and Vancouver, not to mention hundreds of smaller ports along the endless coasts and islands of the Puget Sound. Many ships sank before even entering the strait itself, having come too close to Cape Flattery, the northwestern most point of the contiguous United States. 

Due to better technology and support, almost no more ships meet their end along these shores. Still, the seas remain treacherous and claim more lives every year. So when you sailors out there test these waters and your weather scanner tells you that a gale is coming, do not delay in your retreat, for Davy Jones does not care, whether you be rich or poor, man, woman, or child, sailor or no. He will endeavor to smash your ship upon the rocks and drag you to the deep, never to be seen again. Know this when you gaze upon these photos of Pacific Northwest Coast, with its crashing surf, jagged granite shorelines, rocky, small islands, and submerged stone reefs.

Posted in Travels in Natural Areas | No Comments »

February 10, 2007 by Brian.

This will be short post, since there isn’t too much to say, except this is a fantastic course. I am not a big fan of the Designer Pro baskets, but otherwise, the course is spectacular. The course incorporates play around mature cedars, stream and pond water hazards, and uphill and downhill grades. The course is also designed to leave one close to the start after nine holes, as well, if the player does not have time for the full nineteen. There are trees everwhere, so it favors the precise over the powerful.

Dave played the course with me, and we took time out for a quick photo. He is just another recent convert to the game. 

See you out on the course someday, somewhere.

Posted in Disc Golf | No Comments »

February 9, 2007 by Brian.

Tucked between a few of the great peaks of the Cascades and the docile, cool Puget Sound, a sleepy town hides one of the hottest after-hours clubs in the world. One would not know it by walking the streets. On the way into downtown on Commercial Avenue, an arch over the road announces that one is entering tourist country. Home to flocks of retirees, throngs of refinery workers, a handful of fishermen and assorted seamen, and those who serve them, admittedly Anacortes, Washington does not have the sparkle and splendor of a town like Minneapolis or Seattle. Around a few corners, one finds a decaying harbor haunted by the ghost of past prosperity, spooky murals painted by a marginal talented and profoundly disturbed local artist, a ferry terminal that makes Anacortes the gateway to the many spectacular San Juan Islands, a bowling alley that serves a damned good breakfast, and a curious veteran memorial park adorned with a cannon and intricate stone work.

In addition to the crashing of waves and the occasional ferry horn, visitors may also hear the distant roar of living history. Flying out of the Naval Air Station in nearby Oak Harbor, the P-3C Orion stalks the seas near and far, keeping tabs on the world’s submarines. First delivered to the Navy in the early 1960s, the P-3 proved so useful that it continues to be integral to our navy five decades later. It will be replaced in the coming years, but for now one can still spot them roaring four propellers wide across these grey skies. One of the planes still being flown was delivered in 1969. Yes, this airplane first left the tarmac when dirty hippies were smoking joints and dropping acid on Haight-Ashbury Street. Our navy’s aircrews brave the dangers of flying these moving museums without complaint, ensuring that some Captain Communism doesn’t nuzzle up to our coasts in a stealthy old diesel sub.

One gallant P-3 tactical officer, Lt. David “DJ” Litrun, risks his life daily aboard these ancient birds. Unsatisfied with the quaint, tame nature of the night life in “A-Town,” he took it upon himself to establish The Orange Room. When one arrives, he is guided in the front door by the port and starboard entry lights. Once inside, a warm orange glow envelops guests from strategically placed lamps and holiday lights. Your host will serve a visitor a tasty beverage, serenade him with a song, and challenge him with a lively political, historical, semantic discourse. Unfortunately, The Orange Room is located in Anacortes for a limited time: it is slated to move location to Halifax, Nova Scotia in a few months. For now though, one can still raise a glass with Lt. Litrun. You might even run into a few more of the Navy’s finest, including, Duffy, Sugar, Tree, Polish Pistol, Swede, and, if you can handle it, Manlove.

Posted in Friends and Family | 2 Comments »

February 5, 2007 by Brian.

       While I was back in Minnesota, the tragedy that all boat owners dread befell my friend Kylene: her Bayliner sunk. There is plenty of blame to be thrown around, but for anyone who has ever handled a boat, it is clear that sometimes these things just happen. The boat was fresh from the shop and no one, including the operators checked. The plug didn’t make it into the back of the boat. Though the problem was noticed before she sunk, she had capsized before anything constructive could be done.

Luckily, Kylene had good insurance and the whole thing was paid for by the insurance company minus two hundred dollars for the deductible. It took a couple of months to repair, but the fair craft again navigates the waters of Lake Union and Lake Washington. We even snapped a photo of a foggy Seattle on our way by.

The weather out here has turned sour, but I guess I can’t complain, since my nose hairs are not freezing together like all those folks back in Minnesota. Let this tale be a lesson to all of you. I wish you a fair voyage and and a plug in your stern.

Posted in Cities and Urban Landscapes | No Comments »