Susan said the friend was no longer interested but she would love it if I came out for the eclipse, and she had just got an extra reservation for a campsite from a colleague at work, and was looking at a 4 day plan (Friday, Saturday Sunday and Monday) with the eclipse happening Monday. So I got tickets on JetBlue which would get me to Portland Wednesday evening and would get me back to NY on a red-eye late Wednesday the next week.
The biggest problem to worry about was the visibility — we needed a cloudless sky. The campsite was in Estacada, on the west side of the Cascades, which tends to have cloudier, wetter weather, and forest fires were burning near Mount Jefferson, right on the eclipse path. So we ended up getting 3 reservations, the original one, one in the National Forest near the town of Sisters on the east slope of the Cascades, and one on a cattle ranch in Mitchell, 200 miles away in Central Oregon. We had all our bases covered. As the eclipse got closer, the fires in the Cascades got worse (they closed the forest near Mount Jefferson) and we agreed on going out to the ranch, but we would avoid the normal route on US-26, which would very likely be crowded with eclipse traffic, and go out on I-84 all the way to Arlington, and then south on Route 19 and 207. Now we had our reservations, our route, and of course, our Eclipse Glasses.
I got in to Portland a little past 11:00 Wednesday after a bumpy flight, and Susan picked me up at the airport. We chatted a bit about what we'd have to pick up the next day for a 4 day car camping trip. Mostly food — and we probably bought more than we needed. Of course we needed some beer so we stocked up on some Black Butte Porter, my favorite Oregon micro-brew (interestingly, "Black Butte" is actually a cinder cone in the Cascades near the Sisters and our second campsite — the one on the east slope of the Cascades — was right next to it. If we had used that site we would have been drinking Black Butte Porter on top of Black Butte!) Susie had a great idea to freeze all the drinks (mostly some Gatorade and bottled water) and some perishable food (hamburgers), and used that in the picnic cooler instead of a pile of ice cubes. We also brought a big tarp to use as a shelter, but we never needed it since the weather was as dry as a bone.
Friday morning, I got up about 5:30 Pacific time (8:30 Eastern time) and went out and got some pictures of the crescent moon and Venus in the eastern sky. This was the first of three photos I took each successive day before the eclipse showing the progress of the moon as it moves eastward across the sky to where it would meet with the sun on Monday morning. The title picture at the top of this page shows this sequence. It shows that the moon had passed Venus sometime between day 1 and day 2, and it shows the moon getting closer to the horizon each day with a corresponding brightening of the eastern sky as the moon got closer to sunrise (in the last picture, the crescent moon is almost lost near the horizon before sunrise on Sunday).
Then after Breakfast we were off on our adventure.
n the almost 20 years my daughter has lived in Portland, only once had my wife and I spent an appreciable amount of time east of the Cascades. That was in August 2003, when we paid a visit to Bend in central Oregon, and the surrounding country. I learned then that the land changes drastically on that side of the mountains.
The climate changes from temperate where Douglas Fir predominates in mature forests west of the Cascades, to the dry, arid, largely barren high desert on the east side, although you might find stands of Ponderosa Pines and Juniper in the lowlands, particularly along river courses and drainages (see this: ). Furthermore, since Bend is on the Deschutes River, a major river with headwaters in the Cascades, the town is not typical of the high desert — you might say it has one foot in the river, and the other foot in the high desert.
This trip, to a cattle ranch in Mitchell, Oregon, population 130 (2010 census), was much, much, further east, like 100 miles further. The ranch, known as the Collins Reservoir Ranch, lies about 10 miles east of the town. How did we pick that spot? Basically they put up a web site and it seemed attractive. During the frenzy of the up-coming eclipse, it seemed like anyone with a piece of land near the eclipse path was selling space for car camping (either RVs or tent camping) and this spot was on the low priced side ($100 per person for 4 nights) and the photos on their web site showed a relatively attractive area with a small lake, lots of grassland (for the cattle) and stands of trees where you could get away from the sun. Except for a couple of National Forests, there is little or no shade in Central Oregon.
But getting there was an eye-opener; route US-26 looked problematic: NASA had set up an event open to the public in Madras, on US-26 east of Mount Jefferson (Susan said "Madras would be insane"), and there was a huge eclipse festival run by a group called Symbiosis (see this: ), which expected 30,000 attendees, located in an inholding called Big Summit Prairie in the middle of the Ochoco National Forest. And all 30,000 would arrive via Route 26. In a word, that was insane; More on these events below.
Our route followed the Columbia River for close to 140 miles. About half of that was spent getting out of Portland and getting through the Columbia Gorge, where the river cuts through the Cascades and stunning mountains stand on either side. The Gorge ends around the town of Hood River (although some would say it extends to The Dalles, a town about 20 miles further east). Either way, as you travel eastward, the country becomes drier and more desolate, with the occasional stand of trees and rolling hills punctuated by deep canyons where streams from the south empty into the Columbia.
We stopped for a late breakfast / early lunch at a MacDonald's in Hood River, and when we finally left I-84 at Arlington, we filled the gas tank and filled an extra 5 gallon container Susan had bought, since in this part of the country, gas stations are few and far between. Then it was routes 19 and 207 south for 100 miles. This part of Oregon, high desert and prairie, was like nothing east of the Mississippi. Bare rolling hills, deep canyons, grasslands, and occasional stands of Ponderosa Pine and Juniper. Interestingly, for the first 10 miles or so there were literally hundreds of wind turbines. This place has wind turbines like Texas has oil wells! Besides the turbines, the photo shows the look of the land. It was more-or-less like this everywhere.
We got to Mitchell around noon and stopped at the Bridge Street Cafe, one of the very few restaurants in town, where they were contending with more customers per hour than they usually see in a week. But they did their best to prepare for the eclipse crowd — they hired an extra waitress and simplified their menu to a few easily prepared items. We ordered hot dogs which were perfectly fine. Most folks just ordered ice cream.
But we got the most interesting tidbit of local information when the owner showed up. She had gone to Prineville, about 50 miles west on Route 26, to pick up some supplies. She said road traffic was at a complete stand still in all directions. It turns out that all traffic to Madras from the east went through Prineville and all traffic to the Symbiosis event towards the east also went through Prineville before turning onto the Forest Service road to Big Summit Prairie. She had to convince the local officials to let her though to get back to Mitchell on route 26, which had little east bound traffic. That's because nobody could get through to take the road to Mitchell. We later learned that traffic to Big Summit Prairie was stalled for 13 hours on Friday night: the sheriff had to go from car to car at 4:00 Saturday to wake the travelers who had slept overnight in their cars. As for Madras, they had to call the National Guard in to help with traffic congestion. And this was three days before the eclipse. Boy, did we make the right choice for our route.
We found our way to the Collins Reservoir Ranch in the early afternoon. There was very little traffic on the road at that time (guess why?) Remember, the ranch is in the cattle business, not the event business. But they did a reasonably good job for this event. They had moved the cattle off the front of the ranch to the back and had set up some home-made outhouses in various spots. The one source of (supposedly) potable water was from a hose by the ranch house about a quarter mile in from the highway. We had been proactive and brought many gallons of our own Portland potable water just in case. Good decision. They had hired a couple of college age local kids to "manage" the clients (us). They took our names and we signed a form but they didn't have a master list, so anyone could just drive in and set up camp. But I doubt if this was a problem since who would know to arrive here ready to camp? Who would even be able to find this place?
We scouted around for a good spot: most folks either set up along the reservoir (these were all RVs), or in one of several stands of trees. There was lots of space. We found a nice spot in a grove of Ponderosa Pines somewhat near an outhouse which seemed fairly flat. The land was grassland, so most areas had flat, not-too-rocky ground. But guess what else the land, which had previously been occupied by cattle, had? You guessed it, what are colloquially called "Cow Pies", Well, we did what we could by clearing these deposits off our little plot of land, and fortunately, these piles of poop neither smelled nor attracted flies. I have no idea why, maybe the hot and dry climate.
But we were happy with our spot and we set up our tents and our kitchen and just took it easy for the afternoon, as the area slowly filled up with campers. There were RVs, both big and small, and tents. Most tents were bigger than ours — we had taken a couple of Susan's backpacker tents. And we didn't have any of those big mosquito proof (and sometime rain proof) shelters over and around our kitchen that you see in this type of camp ground, but luckily, niether bugs nor rain were a problem here. We took it easy till supper time, but the sun had a way of moving out from behind our trees as we tried to find shade, but we survived.
A bit after supper, we noticed a considerable cloud of dirty brown smoke over the western horizon. We guessed this was from the Sisters fire, about a hundred miles to the west, but it may have been from a small fire in the north-west part of the Ochoco National forest which had started a few days prior to our trip.
Fire danger was at extreme levels at this point. The northwest was in the midst of a drought and heat wave. Susan said that Portland had been without rain for 88 days, and that was west of the Cascades. The east side and the rest of the state was even dryer. Campgrounds like this, built on grasslands, were very sensitive.
Everyone in the entire ranch was required to have a bucket of water next to any camp stove and no generators were allowed on the ground. With dry grass everywhere, a single spark could spread instantly. And we were very worried about that huge event in Big Summit Prairie, with 30,000 visitors, mostly unaware of the fire danger in this region. We just held our breath and crossed our fingers that a new dirty brown cloud, coming from just over 10 miles south of us, would appear without warning. But on a more positive side, smoke in the skies makes for gorgeous sunsets and that's exactly what we had that Friday night.
There would be two full days before the eclipse on Monday morning, so Susan had thought ahead and laid out some beautiful spots in the area where we could do some hiking and sight seeing. In particular, there were two sections of the that we would explore: The Sheep Rock Unit aka the John Day Fossil Beds (about 32 miles east of Mitchell, 22 miles east of the ranch) on Saturday and the Painted Hills Unit (about 10 miles west of Mitchell, 20 miles west of the ranch) on Sunday. See below for a description and some photos from these two very beautiful areas.
The following photo album shows life and times on the ranch culminating with the eclipse on Monday morning. A few of the pictures were taken from Google Street View where we didn't have one of an important area. Yes, even in this desolate place, Google had been there: Four Days on a Cattle Ranch. You'll notice there's only one shot of the eclipsed sun. That's because my point-and-shoot camera was not up to the task — but it didn't matter! More on that below.
ate in the day on Sunday, I scouted out the area to the north of our campground, which was an open grassy meadow — and I might add, was mostly free of Cow Pies. I'm guessing this area was probably not in one of the pastures they used for the cattle. There was plenty of space for our little set-up (consisting of our kitchen table and our chairs). Most of the eclipse would be observed sitting down. The NASA maps indicated that the sun would be about 43° above the south-eastern horizon (about half way up), so that would be a comfortable angle for sitting back and watching. I had a light weight camera tri-pod and Susan had a little stand for her iPhone.
On Monday morning, around 9:00 we lugged our stuff out and set it up. There was a vast amount of space and small groups of people were spread out widely over the area. Back towards our camp ground, a couple of large RVs had positioned themselves at the edge of the trees with views towards the open south-east horizon. Lots of folks just sat back with their eclipse glasses on and watched the partial phase of the eclipse. Using these glasses, the sun appeared to be orange, and the moon was moving slowly across the sun's face starting at about the 1:00 O'clock point and moving towards the 7:00 O'clock point. The partial phase would take about 75 minutes, so there was plenty of time to sit back, stare at the sun, and get a real good sunburn.
I soon discovered that the home made filter I had made for my camera out of the same filter material as the eclipse glasses used, would not work. So I abandoned the idea of setting up the camera tripod, and just used the camera to take pictures of the area, and perhaps try to take a few of the total eclipse (which you could observe without the filter). More than one source said don't fuss with your camera — just watch the total eclipse without distraction. Good advice. Susan did manage to set up her iPhone and pointed it away from the eclipse and got some nice shots of the area and the other watchers as the day slowly got darker and the temperature got noticeably colder. Being a desert area, a hot day can turn into a cold night. I wouldn't doubt the temps fell into the 50°s during totality from the normal daytime 70°s.
Totality was due to start at 10:21 and last just over two minutes, so as the time got closer everyone started to get a bit edgy. As the moon gradually approached the bottom-left edge of the sun where it would completely cover it, it got darker and darker and suddenly it was night!
The last uncovered part of the sun seemed to explode in a flash of light (The "Diamond Ring") and then there it was, totality! Off came the eclipse glasses and there was the moon, the blackest black I had ever seen (much blacker than the rest of the sky) and the corona surrounding the sun, the whitest white I had ever seen. Photos don't do justice to this incredible dynamic range.
But it was more than the optics of the eye vs. the camera, it was being there: the light was funny, the shadows were funny, the animals were upset, it got cold, and the crowds, the crowds flipped out. The most common scream was "O My God", and this was not the OMG when you see that perfect outfit in the store window, or when you win your age group. This was an OMG of awe, or even fright. This was the primal scream of our inner cave man breaking through the many layers of culture and civilization we are wrapped in. I kid you not, this was the most unique and wonderful experience I had ever, ever seen in my 70 plus years.
Totality ended as it had begun with the "Diamond Ring", this time, where the moon had first started nibbling away at the sun almost 80 minutes before. Susan shouted "It's Back!" The glasses went back on and the final partial eclipse phase started which would take about another 80 minutes. We sat there stunned and speechless, disappointed by how quickly the totality had come and gone. After a while we put the scattered pieces of our minds back together and reluctantly gathered up our stuff and brought it back to our campground.
We quickly agreed that we would head back to Portland and try to beat the traffic. Our attachment to the ranch had ended with the ending of the eclipse. After repacking our car (how did we ever fit so much stuff in?) we dropped off the extra gas canister, now empty, for one of Susan's friends at their RV on the reservoir, and soon we were back on Route 26, heading towards Mitchell to retrace our path up Route 207 and 19, and lastly along I-84 west to Portland. There were only a few slowdowns in the traffic flow, mostly when we went through several small towns on Route 19 (Service Creek, Wheeler, Condon) with 25 MPH speed limits. Once we were back on I-84, we stopped when we passed through Cascade Locks for a late lunch at the Bridgeside Restaurant at the Bridge of the Gods (where we had eaten before) and then headed through the familiar features of the Columbia Gorge (the self-same bridge, the Bonneville Dam, Beacon Rock across the Columbia, Multnomah Falls, and the rest of it). Finally when we passed the road to Mt. Hood we started to deal with the usual afternoon traffic of greater Portland. We had beaten the post-eclipse traffic and we were home again.
All we could say about what we had experienced that morning was
e slept well Friday night — in spite of the usual adjustment required for sleeping on the ground (and of course no inside plumbing for middle-of-the-night bathroom breaks). We met the new day early and we were off a little after 8:00. We were headed east to do some hiking in the John Day Fossil Beds, where Susan (I think) had been before. This section of the National Monument is located about 10 miles east of the ranch, just a few miles up Route 19 from where it meets Route 26.
We got to the park headquarters about 9:00 and chatted with the nice woman who was at the desk. A long time resident of the area, she reassured us that taking I-84 out of Portland was the best route even when there are no crowds on the roads like this weekend. There were a number of exhibits featuring the fossils found in the area and the stunning natural features of the land. To tell the truth, these were the only fossils we saw, since the ones on the trails we hiked were out of reach. We reached the trail head by around 10:00 and found we had two options: the "Blue Basin Overlook Trail" which circles around on the high lands for about 3¼ miles and gives marvelous views of the whole park. The second trail, more of a tourist trail of about 1.3 miles, goes into the major canyon (the "Blue Basin") where fossils are found. For both trails the sign at the trail head said "There is very little shade to be found along the trail". They sure got that right. We decided to do both, starting with the Overlook Trail.
The Overlook Trail was mostly gentle through the grasslands rising from around 3000' to 3500' as it circled around the Blue Basin which always stood out with it's steep, eroded sides of blue-green rock. It was more tiring than we anticipated, probably due to the elevation for us coastal hikers. There were a few trees which gave us brief respites from the sun as we circled around the basin. It was really quite beautiful, especially the color contrast between the basin and the uplands where we walked.
When we completed our circuit, we got onto the so called "Island in Time Trail", which had a graded tread way and metal bridges over some of the gullies. Now we were totally within the basin and it was a striking contrast from the Overlook Trail There were many signs about the fossil beds, but we were constrained to stay on the trail and never saw them up close. When we got back to the trail heads, the parking lot, which had only a few cars when we started, was full, and the sun was hotter than ever. It's good we started early.
East of the intersection with Route 19, Route 26 follows the John Day River and this involves going through "Picture Gorge" one of the most impressive steep walled canyons I have experienced. We wanted to check out Dayville, a small town several miles east along Route 26, so when we got back to Route 26 we headed to through Picture Gorge and had a very nice lunch in the Dayville Cafe and also bought a few odds and ends across the street at the Dayville Merc, a sort of small town general store, before heading back to Mitchell. It was a very rewarding visit to this area, both the National Monument and the town so if you're in the general area, they are well worth a visit. Here's a photo album showing some of our adventure: Trip to the John Day Fossil Beds and to Dayville, Oregon.
unday's adventure took us to the Painted Hills, another unit of the John Day Fossil Beds National Monument. This is a smallish park about a 15 minute drive west of Mitchell. I'm told that it is responsible for a recent increase in tourism to this area, being called one of the "Seven Wonders of Oregon” by the Oregon Tourism Bureau. Here's a nice account written by a Salem Oregon reporter: .
Since we went the day before the eclipse, this place was jam-packed and all the cars were restricted to a large parking lot near the entrance of the park. That made our access to the several trails in the park rather longer, since we had to trek on foot almost 7 miles along the dirt roads to get to each trail we hiked and finally return to the car. So although most of the available trails were short, from ¼ mile to 1½ miles, we ended up just doing 3 of the short loops or out-and-backs and had to skip a couple of trails we might have liked to hike (enlarge the map and note the two trails going north and south from the Painted Hills Overlook). But it was an awe inspiring visit nevertheless and should be on your Central Oregon bucket list.
We started with a walk of about a mile up to the Painted Hills Overlook turnoff. We watched enviously as hikers climbed the high ridge along the north side of the road on a trail we had to skip on this day. We passed by the turnoff since we planned to do that on the way back. I would guess a vast majority of today's visitors would go to the Overlook and call it a day, since walking a mile or so from the parking lot (and back again) to get here was not something they were prepared for. Keep in mind, that as in most of this area, there was no shade whatsoever on that bright, sunny day.
Our first real stop was the Painted Cove, another 1.2 miles past the Overlook turnoff. This consisted of hills "painted" in the extreme. Due to some minerals, I think some iron compound, these hills were a deep dark red (see photo left: enlarge it) and the path was a boardwalk (to protect the delicate surface) right through the hills. There was a side trail to a hill above the Painted Cove which gave a panoramic view of the red hills with a lake beyond, and the whole scene looked like something from another world.
There was an eclipse aficionado setting up his stuff on the hill — a fancy camera and telescope — doing a "dress rehearsal" for the eclipse the next day. In a way this was a conjunction of one of the astonishing beauties on this planet with the soon-to-come astonishing beauties in the skies above.
The next stop was the Leaf Forest Trail, about a mile and a half from the Painted Cove. Although it was a pretty trail through the high desert lands, there was nothing particularly unique about it. Fossil leaves sound interesting — I had never heard of them — but we saw only a few pictures of them, nothing real. I guess we were spoiled with the multitude of awesome sights so that a merely "nice" trail was a bit of a let-down and the extra couple of miles to get there and back seemed not worth the effort.
Heading back, we finally got to the Painted Hills Overlook. This was the most crowded and popular spot in the park and there were water fountains and lots of information on many signs and a few rangers to help the visitors. And there were amazing views in all directions. A trail headed up to a high hill to the south, and that other trail we noticed when we first came in headed up to the north from the turnoff.
All in all, in spite of my few nitpicks, this was a stunning place to visit. If you go, do those trails we missed and skip the Fossil Leaves. Here's a photo album of what we saw, enjoy: The Painted Hills.
When we got back to Mitchell, we had lunch at the Bridge Street Cafe again and had a leisurely afternoon doing some reading and trying to stay out of the sun.
n the way back to Portland after the eclipse on Monday, I recognized Beacon Rock on the other side of the Columbia (see the photo below). Some time in the past Susan had said that there is a trail to the top built for the public (i.e. not technical) and that she had climbed it. She said it was "not too bad". Beacon Rock is an extremely impressive, mammoth rock, some 840 feet high with near vertical sides, which is a volcanic plug or dike — the hardened remnant of a volcanic extrusion where the surrounding lava cone has eroded away. As we drove by, I said, "let's climb that tomorrow". Tomorrow was to be our off day, with no particular plans. So now we had a plan.
One Henry Biddle purchased it to preserve it in 1915 and he built the trail with his son and daughter in 1918. One of the most amusing historical facts about it is that his daughter offered to give it to the Sate of Washington in 1928 with the stipulation that it be preserved for the public. The cost-conscious governor refused the offer so she offered it to Oregon, which said "Sure." At that, the embarrassed Washington governor changed his tune and accepted the offer. It is now a Washington State Park.
We slept late and drove to the rock on the Washington side of the Columbia, arriving about 10:00. The lower section of the trail was through lovely woods which gradually ascended on a fairly wide trail with a few metal bridges over some gullies. It then started up the rock face and at one point there was a series of over hanging metal bridges over a very exposed section. I'm not sure how they managed to build a trail in this section, presumably working with more primitive materials. At this point I choked and decided it was a bit too scary for me. Meanwhile lots of other visitors, young and old, fit and unfit, were proceeding up. Whatever, in this case I followed my gut and turned around.
But luckily there is a perfectly nice alternative trail in the park from the road down to the river so we took that. It is a lovely walk with some old growth trees and remnants
of some old stone structures.
We spent some time in the area by the river with great views back to the rock and across the river. Then it was back to Portland where we had a nice lunch before returning
to Susan's house, where we cleaned up all our camping stuff and packed it away. Here's a photo album of today's trip. One of the photos near the end shows the place
where I turned abound. If you look closely, you'll also see a number of climbers on the trail, all the way to the top.
Beacon Rock State Park, Washington.