March 3, 2007 by Brian.

I cannot remember a time when I felt more at ease. Among these ancient trees in Redwoods National Park, I felt awe and warmth, though it was fifty degrees Fahrenheit and raining. From just after dawn to just before dark, I made a round trip from the road to the ocean, about an eight mile round trip. During that time, I did not run into or hear a single person. The only sounds were the dripping of rain from the canopy of trees, the gurgle of a stream here and there, and the chirping of birds. It may seem that this would be lonely and isolated, but for that whole day, I felt as ease and soothed. The importance of humans spending time in such areas once in a while should not be underestimated. I offer you some of the photos without further comment. They speak for themselves.

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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.

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January 21, 2007 by Brian.

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January 20, 2007 by Brian.

If you have the chance to go to Mt. Rushmore, take it from me, stay home. So maybe I had high expectations from a lifetime of photos and propoganda, but this would not have been impressive had I never heard of said monument. This is a small carving in a large rockface with a couple good leaders and a couple of dubious leaders. They charged me $8.00 to park, though I have an annual national park pass and I stayed in this tourist trap for only about a half hour. There is nothing for people to do here but stare at a hideous monument to our own American ego. 

South Dakota, however, is a beautiful state with wonderful, friendly people. Please do visit, but if you must go to a tourist trap, try Wall Drug. At least you can get a tasty burger there.

A look at the Badlands, some of the good stuff that South Dakota has to offer.

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January 19, 2007 by Brian.

So the part of the subject line in quotations is the motto of South Dakota; I have stopped in Deadwood for the night and thought that the motto would be appropriate for inclusion. I began my day today refreshed after a reasonable bedtime, which concluded a very nice evening with my cousin Patrick, his girlfriend Jill, and my Aunt Shirley and my Uncle Dave, who also happens to be my godfather. We had some Pizza at Liugi’s in River Falls, Wisconsin and followed it up with some beer and conversation. Since Patrick is responsible for the math proficiency of the youth of tomorrow, however, we couldn’t really put any sheets out to the wind. Still, it was great to see my cousin and the family again, and I look forward to seeing them on my way back through in May.

The day started out fairly cold and windy, but the sun was shining.

I backtracked a little through the small highways of southeastern Minnesota, until I got to I-35 and then to I-90 and I was on my way. It is not exactly an exciting drive, but the great plains do have their humble charm on a sunny day. The motto of South Dakota makes a little more sense when one is looking out for miles and miles of windswept grasslands and the sky is so large and so blue that for a second, one thinks of little else but the grandure of it all.

Still, it gets a little tedious after awhile . . . say five hours. It got dark before I could get to Mount Rushmore and Badlands  National Park, so I decided to head into Deadwood and get a hotel room. Maybe I will even try a few hands of black jack. I wanted to get a picture of sunset over Deadwood, but it got dark, so all I could get was a twilight snapshot. It will have to do. I will have more after some hiking and sightseeing tomorrow.

Good night and good luck . . . to me.

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