Nerding Out on Nature:

Because Earth is cooler than screens


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Oregon Country Fair–A Child’s Paradise

Veneta, Oregon—Here’s a list of the things I would have purchased at the Oregon Country Fair last Friday if I hadn’t blown my twenty bucks on tamales and Nutella-berry crepes:

  1. Dangly silver earrings with sparkly blue stones20150710_123510
  2. A giant eggroll
  3. A temporary henna tattoo
  4. A worm composting bin
  5. Tie-dyed boxer shorts
  6. A unicorn horn

If you live in Oregon, you know about Country Fair; it sprawls across 280 acres of forest and river every second weekend in July. If you’re new to the state, or you’ve shied away from attending because of the counterculture vibe and the presence of a handful of bare-breasted people, get over it and go. The counterculture is delighted to teach you how to juggle and belly-dance, and the bare breasts are canvases for beautiful paintings of sunflowers and goddesses.

Confession: My husband hates the fair. Early on in our courtship, he did the chivalrous thing and escorted me on our bicycles to watch the spectacle. Undone by crowds and heat and dust, he boosted me up to a stilt-walker’s bench (lately discouraged by Fair staff) and we spent hours watching parades of marching musicians, dragons, giant puppets. He tried to love it. He didn’t. Now, I attend with The Spud on the free shuttle from Valley River Center on Friday, 9:30 sharp so we can board one of the first buses out of the parking lot.

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The Spud meets her nemesis.

The Fair’s a child’s paradise, with opportunities for hands-on fun everywhere. Much as I’d love to organize my day with the schedule in the Peach Pit (OCF’s official event and entertainment guide) and move from vaudeville show to band gig to spoken word performance, with a child under 10, that’s not going to happen. Instead, we get off the bus, I point her in the direction of the ticket taker, and she’s off. Here’s what she got ahold of last Friday:

  1. A compost bin full of worms and lettuce
  2. A booth at which she learned to fold a cootie-catcher
  3. A hand drum on stage with a musician singing about the importance of recycling
  4. A table full of recycled inner tubes and leather, needles and thread and awls and stamps and rhinestones (she made a purse)
  5. A playground with a jungle gym on which frolicked some of her school chums, most of whom wore clothes
  6. A fairyland hideout built of moss and lichen and stones and other wonders

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Who needs Barbie? Kids play here for hours!

Go for the day, and give yourself over to the weirdness, or become part of it. We’ve painted our faces and danced in the drum circle and tried the giant hula hoop and chowed down on strawberry shortcake and ice cream and given quarters to the dozens of single and group musicians who play on the sidelines. We’ve taken refuge in the shady library when it all got to be too much, and we’ve stayed until the end of the day, until we’ve fallen asleep dusty and sated, standing up on the half-hour shuttle ride back to Eugene. There’s magic around every corner at the Country Fair–see you in 2016!

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Pay a quarter, get a Cat Fortune. Meow!

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Kayaking on the Oregon Coast with a Terrier in a PFD

I’m not a Mother’s Day brunch kind of gal. Give me a river, a kayak and a beach full of tidepools–I’m good to go. A carving station? Not so much.

My husband, knowing better than to sit me down in front of an all-you-can eat seafood bar, researched the Siuslaw Estuary Water Trail near Florence, Oregon. “It’s an adventure!” he told me and our 8-year old daughter (aka The Spud). We presented our new dog, April, with a terrier-sized life vest and headed west.

April, the intrepid terrier.

April, the intrepid terrier.

You’ve got two choices when you park at Bender Landing at low tide; you can either slog with your kayak through knee-high mud and drop it in the water, or you can rig a line 10 feet up on a retaining wall and lower your boat and climb down a metal ladder to the river. Either way, you’re guaranteed awkward hilarity.

We opted for the ladder, lowered our paddles and peanut butter sandwiches and the terrier, and started off laughing and unmuddied upstream. Paddlers on the Siuslaw can kayak 30 river-miles between Mapleton and the Pacific Ocean. It’s pretty country, I decided, but nothing beats kayaking the Siltcoos River 14 miles south. That’s my true love river, with its old growth and sand dunes that give way to Snowy plover territory and the ocean. We turned our boats around after a while, observed by a preternaturally calm egret, and paddled with the tide.

Egret

Heading south on the North Fork of the Siuslaw, you’ll see farms in the distance, and tractors and horses. We spotted more egrets sailing overhead, and vultures, and what looked to be a Northern harrier skimming the fields. Nutria emerged at the shoreline and scuttled off into tall weeds. Below us, fallen trees stretched out in the water with delicate plants all around them. On this sunny Mother’s Day weekend, the water felt warm enough for a swim. The Spud jumped in to the delight of our new terrier and splashed around a while.

MaiaKayak

It’s possible to kayak to Old Town Florence and tie up in pursuit of a scoop of BJs Oregon Trail ice cream. But we had some serious tidepooling to do, and so we paddled back to our put in and circled around the ladder and the muddy shoreline, weighing our options. Not willing to drag my kayak one-handed up the ladder, I got out on the shore and sunk immediately up to my knees. A pristine kayaker, preparing for a paddle, gaped at me from a picnic table on the grass. “That the only way in?” he asked.

I nodded at the narrow metal ladder and broke into laughter at the sight of my husband mired in the mud.

Our giddy giggling continued later when we walked down to the beach outside the Adobe Resort and discovered two people in the distance gathering up something in bags. A budding journalist, The Spud ran over to investigate.

“Maggots,” she reported back as I bent over a tidepool full of hermit crabs and turquoise anenomes. “They’re collecting maggots.”

I’d spotted five-inch long translucent jelly-like tubes on the beach. Confused, I decided these were maggots of some sort, and the couple had found use for them. I wanted to know just what that use was.

Not maggots–squid eggs.

Not maggots . . . squid eggs.

Not maggots . . . squid eggs.

“What are you collecting?” I asked with a bemused smile.

The man who replied gave me a sober look.

“Agates,” he said.

Turns out this beach, like Bob Creek Wayside a few miles south, offers agates the size of fingernails and fists. The latter, he said, can be worth hundreds of dollars which accounts for the beachcombers who show up hours before low tide to start searching. Those five-inch long jelly-like things? Apparently, they’re squid eggs flung by ocean waves to land among the velella velella (By-the-Wind Sailors).  Here, read this!

Velella vellela (By-the-Wind Sailors)

Velella velella (By-the-Wind-Sailors)

Velella velella (By-the-Wind-Sailors)

By day’s end, I had mud between my toes and tiny amber agates in my pockets. I had the memory of a terrier in a life vest, a child in the river, and a lunch to look forward to the next day at our favorite Mexican food restaurant, Los Compadres in Florence.

A very fine Mother’s Day, indeed.

I’m teaching a two-day workshop 7/25-7/26 titled “Heal Yourself through Environmental Memoir” at the lovely Sitka Center for Art and Ecology near Lincoln City, OR. There’s still time to register; I’d love to work with you!


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Existential Adventure at Wings and Waves Waterpark

Gliding around a giant green bowl on an inner-tube three stories above the Evergreen Wings and Waves Waterpark can feel existential. You wait, sometimes 15 minutes at a time, on concrete stairs with dozens of strangers in their bathing suits navigating their borrowed inner-tubes, and then shoot down a dark tunnel to emerge in what feels like a toilet bowl the size of one’s living room. For a moment, you’re alone with your thoughts, gliding around and around on a gentle wave of water high above the wave pool with its shrieking children, the café churning out French fries and hot dogs. And then, suddenly, you’re sucked down—sometimes backwards, sometimes forwards–into another tube and hurled into darkness that gives way in an instant to breathless splashdown on the ground floor next to the first aid station.

I’ve never seen so many smiles.

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Decades ago, Delford Smith–founder of Evergreen International Aviation–dreamed of hoisting a retired Boeing 747 up three stories to sit on top of a building beside the Evergreen Aviation and Space Museum.  The waterpark opened in 2011.  Four different water slides with distinct characteristics, extend out four exit doors. As you stand in line for the legendary “green slide,” or the less-popular but still wildly-entertaining yellow and red and blue slides, you can watch video footage of cranes lifting the mammoth aircraft up to the top of the Waterpark. (See a Vimeo recording here!) Water wonks can wander through a display that explains how the park is powered, then interact with museum exhibits that illustrate the basic principles of physics.

But seriously, in a vast warm space full of water slides and pools and fountains and that wave pool in which thirty people at a time float and glide on their inner-tubes, who wants to break for a science lesson?

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This month, Jonathan and I offered our eight-year old a choice for her birthday celebration; she could either have a party at home with all her friends, or invite her best buddy to spend the day with us at Wings and Waves. She chose the latter—let me pause a moment to thank the Groupon gods for their superb timing which saved us $28 on a still-spendy adventure. (Here’s the offer, good through January.)  At eight years old, the girls roamed the park freely.  They could choose whether to go down the slides alone on a single or a double inner tube.  (The double’s a good option for parents with smaller kids, as well.)  We broke for lunch and presents, then dove in again for more water fun.

We intended to stay all day, and well into the evening. But six hours of sliding and swimming, plus soaking in the hot tub with 25 new friends, wore us all out. By five PM, the girls begged to go home. With eyes reddened from mass amounts of chlorine and quadriceps on fire from climbing hundreds of stairs, we headed the two hours home to Eugene. “I don’t need to go back,” I told Jonathan in the car. But that night, I thought with longing of the green slide—how the exhilaration of it seemed to strip 20 years off my life—and fell asleep dreaming of drifting in the blissfully-bizarre quiet of that existential green toilet bowl.

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Wings and Waves Waterpark is located at 500 NE Captain Michael King Smith Way, McMinnville, OR 97128.  Days and hours vary depending on season. See website for details. 

What to bring:

  • A bathing suit
  • Two towels (one gets pretty damp after a few hours)
  • Sandals for walking in the bathrooms
  • A picnic to enjoy outside, or money for the snack bar