The setting is perfect: steep gradient, waterfalls, slides, gorgeous mountains, pagan ritual sites and plenty of bears. Twelve miles in and only twenty-four out. All we need now is some sweet sunshine, and some snowshoes.Few kayakers would think to venture into the brush out here in Eastern Oregon. For me, it's personal. I grew up in the little town of La Grande, and having spent the last few months living back home and exploring the area, I think there just might be some paddling after all. The cover of the phone-book has a clean 15-to-30-to-10 foot triple-drop on it, and years back our sleepy little church-camp of a settlement was home to the likes of Josh Bechtel (Hey dude, congrats) and other perhaps lesser known white-water heroes. I did spot a few waterfalls while scouting, and I hope they look a little cleaner once they melt. I wonder what the rest of the runs look like under all that snow.
For now I'm just waiting for the snow to melt, and cruising to Hood River whenever I get boof withdrawals. Then I boof it like it's Colorado hot-mank. Observe:
To the Right: Big Brother at stupid low. Photo: Kim Russell
Above, Right: the author getting his scout game on.
So long everyone, I'll post more as soon as this stuff starts melting. And Mansfield, if you're alive still, I've got the creek for you...