I’m thinking of all I did and didn’t do while here these two weeks. I went to bed last night and almost plugged my headphones in my ears to listen to the new Punch Brothers album we’re all obsessed with right now, but then I realized it may be my last chance to fall asleep to the sound of the creek for a while and decided against it.

As I was feeling irritated with myself for what I perceived to be lost opportunities while here, I was able to redirect and focus instead on all the wonderful things I’ve experienced, witnessed, taken part in since here: I’ve mastered the art of building a stellar fire, I had some great conversations with Serena when she was here, I finished a book I haven’t been able to focus on singularly enough to finish since I started it in October, I’ve written a lot, I’ve rested a lot, I’ve made cabin 5 homey and clean – no small feat, I’ve had some much needed alone, quiet time, I’ve played and sung a lot, I’ve ambled around a lot with the dogs, I’ve been thankful. And I got to spend two days watching the snow fall – my god – that was incredible. But thinking about returning home, this one paragraph at the end of Wildwood really struck a chord when I read it. And that was a week ago, before I was staring down the 2 ½ hour return drive:

Beyond the shroud of trees, she knew, was Portland. Her home. From this vantage, Prue thought, Portland seemed like the strange, magical country – not the world she currently stood in, with its stately groves of tall trees and busy populace, plying their trades in a peaceful coexistence with the world around them. The lattice of Portland’s freeways, clogged with cars and trucks, all the concrete and metal – these things seemed more alien to her now.

Brian and Sam have been cautioning me about heading back to town: “It’s going to seem crazy. Traffic will make you really panicky, like, horns and sirens and stuff. Heading into town after being here for a while is always weird.” I don’t mean to be effusive and dramatic. And I don’t hate Portland, not by a long shot. I just really want a simple kind of existence in every aspect. Being out here in the woods has really clarified that for me. This has been a week of quotations for sure – I came across this Epicurus one in the back of my calendar that is a good reminder to take this time for what it has been and not be dissatisfied with my reality at home: “Do not spoil what you have by desiring what you have not; remember that what you now have was once among the things you only hoped for.” Another that had been making the rounds on Pinterest before I came out here popped into my head last night as I was relishing the creek sounds: “What if you woke up tomorrow with only the things you were thankful for today?” And as I began mulling over the myriad things for which I am thankful, Bing Crosby’s Counting My Blessings from White Christmas played in my mind.

And through it all, as I worked on a large grant that will hopefully help us expand our Opal Creek Expeditions programming, I was able to feel a real connection with the work we do. It’s not about Opal Creek, per se – although this place is an incredible haven for both woodland flora and fauna and what John Muir called “nerve-shaken, over-civilized people” alike – it’s about making connections with wild places, Opal Creek being but one vehicle to that end. Gabbi shared this Baba Dioum quote with me earlier this week [note to self: figure out who Baba Dioum is]: “In the end, we will conserve only what we love, we will love only what we understand, and we will understand only what we are taught.”

I walked down to Opal Pool yesterday with someone who was seeing it for the first time. I love doing that. It allows me to stand on the bridge, look upstream and appreciate, almost objectively, the way Opal Creek surges and tumbles over those rock formations, the gaps in the trees just big enough to make out the ridgeline in the distance. Looking downstream, I appreciate anew the storm that, all those years ago, deposited that rock in the narrow passage the water follows before falling into Opal Pool. Our visitor was duly impressed, and, as happens with every first time visitor, was already talking about coming back in the summer when the air is warm enough to warrant jumping into that translucent water.

I love experiencing the novelties of Jawbone with a newbie – the old car graveyard, shooty-hoops in the shop, Opal Pool, late night jam sessions in cabin 8, an explanation of the Pelton wheel, the serenity of the confluence – but my time here alone has been most rewarding this trip.

The road I’ve traveled up and down dozens of times in the three and a half years I’ve worked for Opal Creek has become ingrained in my head now that it’s my best bet for a quick run or a walk with Sunny: the S-curves, buttslides, the Kopetski Bridge, then the creek with the water flowing through the trees’ trunks, followed closely by the nurse stump with the new tree’s roots wrapped tightly round, the Merten Mill and Cascada de los Niños, the majestic Hewitt Grove, the feat of engineering that is the half bridges, and the Gold Creek bridge and falls.

I had the opportunity on Saturday to experience Opal Creek “beyond the gate” in a new way. I geared up and took advantage of the sunshine and Tucker’s plans to head into town for the day and got a ride down to the Horn Ranch, then turned around and ran back to Jawbone Flats. I couldn’t help but reminisce about my first time riding down that road on a sunny day in October 2008. I had the chance again on this run to enjoy the scenery on that last stretch of road, one that I don’t often have anymore as I’m typically behind the wheel. I stopped to stretch a tight calf on the clickety-clackety bridge and noticed, really for the first time, the beautiful, mossy rock infused cascade that necessitates that bridge. I passed all these places and turnoffs for places that I know in name only, and I began scribbling a summertime to-do list; Three Pools, Opal Lake, Henline Trail. I admired the seasonal waterfalls, the lush undergrowth, the short stretch toward the end of the public road lined with white barked Alders, and the expansive views of the vast watershed in the few stretches of road that go right to the edge of the cliff.

A friend lent me Wildwood before I left on this adventure last week. It didn’t take me long to finish – the perfect complement to this place and this trip. Although author Colin Meloy describes Portland’s Forest Park in his narrative, it might as well be Opal Creek, and I spent the last leg of my run, back on familiar ground inside the gate, applying his descriptions to what I was seeing:

As far as the eye could see, it was green. As many shades of green as Prue could imagine were draped across the landscape: the electric emerald of the ferns and the sallow olive of the drooping lichen and the stately gray-green of the fir branches. The sun was rising higher in the sky, and it streamed through the gaps of the dense wood . . . [it] dappled the ground in hazy patterns, and the air felt pure and untouched to Prue’s cheeks. As she walked, she wondered at the majesty of the place, her fears subsiding with every step in this incredible wilderness. Prue couldn’t believe that no one had ever ventured this far into the Impassable Wilderness; she found it a welcoming and serene place, full of life and beauty.

I went to bed last night thinking about water.

On Monday, Brian and I walked the flume line up to the intake to see what adjustments were needed to optimize power

in camp. The sun was shining and the warm breeze felt more like May than February. I splashed around Flume Creek in my bright yellow rain boots, helping Brian fill sandbags with silt and rocks to help fully submerse the intake head in the water. Since the snow fell about a month ago, there hasn’t been much rain. Skies have been clear and the sun has inched closer and closer to the peak of Stony Ridge. Pretty soon, the eleven o’clock sunsets of winter solstice will be a thing of the past.

The sun that woke me up on Monday morning was a little less intrusive yesterday. There were still patches of blue sky here and there, but felt like February again. By mid-afternoon it was raining. The winter residents of Jawbone Flats responded to the change in weather by disappearing into their cabins. Even the radios were silent for the most part. The whooshing sound of the Little North Fork paired up with raindrops on cabin 5’s metal roof.

Growing up relatively materially unprivileged meant that family vacations mostly consisted of the five of us piling into our minivan and driving for long distances. I remember the lengths to which Dad went to find a resting place within earshot of Lake Michigan’s waves or a gurgling creek. We learned to revel in this simple pleasure.

Last night as I dozed off in my creek side accommodations, my dog curled up close to me in a twin bed and the window open wide, I thought about the magical quality of the water here at Opal Creek. I consider myself to lean heavily away from all things spiritual and metaphysical, fancying myself pragmatic to a fault, a believer in the tangible and little else. But there is an undeniable, otherworldly quality to this place, best embodied in the water. I’d had a pretty morose conversation with Brian earlier in the evening about the inevitability of dying of cancer. As I thought about that conversation in bed, I realized that alternative or holistic approaches to disease treatment maybe had something to them after all. Because if I were diagnosed with cancer today, the first thing I would do would be to come lay down in the crystal clear, shockingly cold waters of Opal Creek and will my sickness downstream.

And for now, without any physical, life-threatening malaise to speak of, I plan to devote a good deal of my time in Opal Creek for the next two weeks in awe of the intangible, “fairy-dust” quality of this place.

But it is a busy world. Upgrades and maintenance are happening despite the thick carpet of snow. Our programs are busy being put on paper and printed soon. You can register for our programs on this website even though we haven’t printed our catalog yet. Luckily, we have amazing folks in Portland who will handle that, so don’t worry about trying to reach us here.

We are very excited about our new programs this year. Opal Creek Expeditions is venturing into some exciting new territory. In 2012 we’ll be offering several new workshops, including Creative Writing and Canopy Exploration. Our New Year’s pledge is to provide enough awesome programming to keep your mind off the presidential campaign.

Visit our webcam to see what Jawbone looks like now. Let your mind wander through our ancient forest wonderland. Imagine the amazing things waiting for you down that road…

We’ll see ya in April,

Tucker

Stay tuned for exciting new Expeditions reaching beyond these wildernesses into the Ochoco Mountains (TBA)! And finally, our WMI offerings are now available for registration as well, with our first WFR Recertification happening early in the season. There is truly something for everyone at Opal Creek Ancient Forest Center this season – we hope to see you in the woods soon!

OCAFC facilities director Brian Campbell and facilities assistant Nick David clear debris from the flume intake.

So far, December has been delightful in Jawbone Flats.  And very cold!  For about 16 days, the temperature only reached 35 degrees! Hoarfrost covered everything that never saw the sun and it accumulated for about two weeks!  It is mid-December and we have seen very few days of rain this month – a rarity even for May!  The sky dumped 12 inches of snow on us the weekend before Thanksgiving, but it melted quickly and we haven’t seen an appreciable amount of snow since then.  For two or three weeks, the high pressure system that you all have been experiencing in the Willamette as unseasonably nice and sunny weather has been upon us.  Unfortunately, Jawbone Flats is located just north of Stony Ridge, therefore directly under its shadow.  As strange as it sounds, all of us up here are getting excited for the more severe weather to come. This is my first winter here in Jawbone and I am more than excited about it.  I have visited Opal Creek in the winter before, but this is my first long-term stay.  After a successful season as a Science Instructor, I was lucky enough to be hired as one of the Winter Caretakers  Since I have skills that suit the job, I am quite enthusiastic in this new position.

From the stories I have heard from people like George Atiyeh, Adam Mims, and our own Katie Ryan and Brian Campbell, I know that winter up here is always an adventure.  From having to sleep under your truck after fallen trees block you from going anywhere, to being snowed in for four months,  I am excited for what I cannot see coming — for the challenges that bring the crew together.  This kind of excitement and potential harshness is what brought me here in the first place and what has kept me here for the wintertime.

We have been catching up on some deferred maintenance and landscaping around town.  We have been limbing dangerous trees and rearranging rocks and gardens.  Also, we are slowly acquiring pieces of our new water filtration system that will conform to Oregon Department of Health standards for an organization like us.  The building process will begin as soon as we get the final bits that a huge project like that requires.

As winter rolls in, I am ever-grateful for supporters and visitors to Opal Creek.  Members and non-members alike, the energy and support we get from you all is imperative to our survival as an organization.  So thank you!  And although it is not sunny and there are only frozen mushrooms up here, we love visitors and it’s a glorious winter wonderland.  So come on up and we’ll see you in Jawbone soon!

While you reflect on the blessing of nature this holiday season, we will take a moment to be thankful for our family of supporters, without whom we would be unable to continue the vital work we do. Thank you!

With the start of expeditions, we have also had two backpacking interns join us for a couple months. Ellen and Logan are a great addition to our team, bringing with them extensive knowledge and back country skills. The expedition staff took a couple days to scout some of the routes we will be hiking with our students, as well as review Expedition curriculum in preparation for the beginning of these programs. Our scouting trip was full of beautiful weather and extraordinary views and left all of us excited for the summer.

Our first expedition, Opal Creek Beginning Backpack, took place the second week in July. On Sunday, we met seven girls at the gate, ready to set out on an adventure. We spent the first couple of days and nights in camp at Jawbones Flats, learning about ancient forest ecology, looking for amphibians, throwing the atlatl and talking about the Kalapuya people, and exploring up Opal Creek and Stony Creek. On Monday evening, our group gathered in the Commissary to prepare for our backpacking trip. After making a big list of everything we needed to bring with us, staff worked individually with students to help each of them sort through their gear, organize group gear, and talk about how to efficiently pack a backpack. Tuesday morning we hit the trail. We worked through the challenges expected at the beginning of a trip –adjusting and re-adjusting backpacks and doing a little repacking to make packs more comfortable. The steady drizzle presented an additional challenge. Along the trail, we saw columbines and paintbrushes in bloom, as well as snow that had yet to melt. We ended our first day at Beachie Saddle, after hiking about six miles and gaining over 2,000 feet in elevation. We set up our camp and spent the remainder of the afternoon inside, drying out and warming up. During our time in the backcountry, everyone learned and practiced outdoor skills such as setting up and using a bear hang, filtering water, and map reading.

Wednesday morning we awoke again to gray skies and rain. Our itinerary for the day consisted of day hikes, so we were able to leave our heavy packs in camp. Our first hike was up the Battle Ax Mountain trail, a short but steep climb. Despite the clouds, we still had lovely views of theBattle Ax Creek watershed from various places along the trail. In the afternoon, we ventured down to Elk Lake. We finally saw some sun and spent time hanging out on the shore of the lake.

The next morning we broke camp, repacked our backpacks, and prepared for the hike back to Jawbone. No rain and lighter packs had everyone in good spirits as we hiked down, making it home in excellent time. Once back in camp, we sorted through and cleaned gear, and spent some time relaxing by the creek. Our last day in Jawbone flew by, and soon we were at the gate meeting parents and saying our good-byes to each other.

Pictures from the Beginning Backpack trip are on Opal Creek Ancient Forest Center’s Facebook page.