Did you figure out last week’s mystery image? Do you still have a few questions?
Before I reveal the answer, let me show you two more photos and give you a few more hints.
A few other things to mention:
- This was found after ranger fell a hazard tree near Benson Lake — Benson is located near Multnomah Falls, between the Historic Columbia River Highway and I-84. There is a lake, a pond, a creek, and the Columbia River nearby.
- It was hanging suspended from a cottonwood tree branch about 20 feet up.
- The dimensions of the object are 3 1/2″ wide by 5 1/2″ long.
Ready for the answer?!
Okay, here it is: . . . We do not know.
That’s right. We do not know. Well, not everything at least. We know that it is a bird’s nest. And we know that it is constructed of fishing line and lined with moss, lichen, and a strand of carpet. What we are not 100% certain of is its maker. Our first three initial guesses out of the birds who weave nests were wren, bushtit, or oriole. Bushtit nests look more like long hanging socks. And while some wrens weave nests, the wrens in the Gorge are not great weavers, and this nest is a piece of art.
Our best guess for the maker of this nest is the Bullock’s Oriole. These are common at Benson; they often nest in cottonwood trees near streams and waterways; they are marvelous weavers of hanging basket nests; and they’ll use hair, twine, or grass for a nest (or perhaps fishing line!) Our only hesitation is that the nest seems a bit small for this medium-sized bird. A quick search reports that the average Bullock’s Oriole nest is 4 inches wide and 6 inches deep — our is 1/2″ shy of each of those. So it may be a smaller Bullock’s nest. Or it may not.
And this is how naturalist studies often go. A definitive answer is not always possible. More research is often required. And not the kind that is found on the Web or in a book. No, the best research here will be done at Benson State Recreation Area during the Bullock’s mating season.
So, I’ll see you at Benson between this coming May and mid-July!
A few of the Gorge rangers were out at Benson State Recreation Area yesterday and found this gem.
Questions for the readers:
- What is this?
- What is it made of?
- Who made it?
Post your best guesses in the comments field below, and we’ll get back to you next week with the answer!
The beach is BACK . . .
. . . And it’s free of rubble
(Hey-la-hey-la the beach is back)
We see it wavin’ better come out on the double
(Hey-la-hey-la the beach is back)
The wind has died down and the sky is mostly blue
(Hey-la-hey-la the beach is back)
So come out now ’cause it’s quite a view
(Hey-la-hey-la the beach is back)
It’s true; the beach is back at Rooster Rock State Park.
As many of you know, Rooster Rock used to be the place to go for sandy river-level picnics, sandcastles, and swims—but things have changed over the years beginning with the floods of 1996 that swept massive amounts of beach downriver. Today, a wide, rambling shoreline is a rarity. And the perfect wind and weather window is now. So, if you get a chance, take a drive out to exit 25, and enjoy the sand between your toes while it’s here and while it’s warm.
Wondering what the beach used to look like? Take a peek!
Within a few weeks of beginning my new position in the Gorge, I received a phone call. It was Ms. Julianna Guy calling from Bellingham, Washington. Julianna had a special request. She was 87 years old, and before she died, she wanted to see a plaque at Vista House recognizing her father.
Julianna’s grandparents were Dr. and Mrs. Osmon Royal, and they had owned acreage at Crown Point (the site of Vista House) when they passed, in 1910 and 1912, respectively. An only child, Julianna’s father, Osmon Royal II, inherited the land from his parents.
Soon after, the City of Portland approached Mr. Royal about donating the land, and on November 2, 1914, Osmon Royall II along with three others gave land at Crown Point, each for the sum of “One Dollar … in consideration of the public good and benefit … for park purposes …” Osmon Royal II was just 22 when he made the commitment.
Although Julianna’s father passed when she was 10 years old, she said that her mother, Carolyn Merritt Royal, told her children of their father’s “donation and of the love they both had for Mt. Hood, Crown Point … and of their courtship on the hiking trails of the area.”
Today, nearly 100 years later, a plaque hangs in the recognition hall in the lower level of Vista House. It recognizes a total of eight land donors: November 2, 1914 — Lorens Lund, Mari Lund, Osmon Royal II, George B. Van Waters; January 16, 1915 — Sarah M. Cornell, Ivan R. Cornell, Edward C. Cornell, Maud Cornell. On July 27, 2014, Julianna Guy and twenty-six of her and Osmon Royal II’s relatives will travel to Vista House to see the plaque and pay tribute to their ancestor. And with the date nearing, I thought we all should, too.
Countless individuals and groups have contributed to the Vista House that we see today. Some, like Osmon Royal II, donated land. Some, like Vista House visitors, have donated money. Others, like the Friends of Vista House volunteers, donate time. All are invaluable.
So the next time you are at Vista House, I encourage you to visit the recognition hall. To stop, read names of the 320-plus donors, and consider what Vista House must have meant to each. And, then, perhaps, what it means to you.
DO YOU KNOW RELATIVES of land donors Lorens Lund, Mari Lund, Osmon Royal II, George B. Van Waters, Sarah M. Cornell, Ivan R. Cornell, Edward C. Cornell, or Maud Cornell? They are invited to meet the extended family of Osmon Royal II at Vista House on Sunday, July 27, 2014 between 10 and 11 AM (exact time TBD by the Royal family).
The other day, I was driving through one of our Oregon State Parks, and a sea of purple flowers caught my eye. Lupines. A towering field of the beauties in full bloom. I made a mental note to stop back with a camera.
Early that evening, I drove by a second time. I couldn’t help myself. I leapt out of the truck and headed straight for the field. An hour later, I emerged. Late for dinner and grinning from ear to ear. In 60 minutes, I traveled no more than 10 feet and took 100 photos. I had a million questions. I have been scouring my wildflower guides and the internet since, and rather than less, I now have even more. Although I know far more about the lupine than when I set off to study them, I find now that I feel like I know less than ever. So goes the journey of discovery.
Below is the condensed version of what I found:
Lupine, the Plant
A Closer Look at Flowers
Most of us, when we go to Latourell Falls, pull off the Historic Columbia River Highway into the parking lot, walk the 25 yards or so to the viewing point, snap a few photos, and then jump back in our vehicles to zoom off to the next waterfall. I’ll admit, I’ve done this very thing numerous times.
A few of us walk down to the base of the falls and then wind around under the Highway to find ourselves in some weird park we’ve never seen before and then scurry back to where our vehicles are parked. I’ve done this, too.
Even fewer of us do what I (after rangering for nearly 7 years in the waterfall wonderland of Silver Falls) now highly recommend. Which is this: Park at Guy W. Talbot State Park on the north side of the Historic Columbia River Highway just west of Latourell Falls (follow a state park shield with a picnic table) – technically, Latourell Falls is IN Guy W. Talbot, but few know this or park here. Use the very nice restroom if needed. Follow the braided, paved path uphill, keeping right.
What you’re about to do is hike the Latourell Falls loop backwards.
Backwards, you ask? Yes. Here’s why. If you’re willing to hike 2+ miles, it is worth it to see the upper and lower falls at Latourell – most of us, as I mentioned, only see the lower falls and miss out the upper. Waterfalls, as we all know, are quite a treat. So, for this (and I’d argue, all) waterfall hikes, do the work first – hike uphill in the forest first, and then, as you wind downhill, you’ll be rewarded with first the upper falls, and, finally, the lower falls. A couple more hundred yards, and you’ll be back at your vehicle. And a nice restroom.
I just hiked the loop backwards (having already completed frontwards) and confirmed, at least for myself, that it is the best direction. And don’t worry, your forested hike up has a few things in store for you, too. Take a look . . .
Join us for Vista House’s Birthday celebration on Sunday, May 4th from 11 AM to 3 PM.
A second, smaller celebration will take place on Monday, May 5th – the day of Vista House’s dedication.
Recently, I visited the Pittock Mansion in Portland for the first time. A fascinating building, one of the things I was struck by was the similarity between Pittock Mansion and Vista House. Marble interior, sandstone exterior, mahogany woodwork . . . the buildings have the same sort of geometric lines and ornate flair. Undoubtedly, the same movers and shakers that were behind the Historic Columbia River Highway and Vista House were in the same circles as those in Portland. It’s a microcosmic era of architecture in a sense. And now, at both Pittock and Vista House, nearly 100 years later, the doors are open to all and visitors are traveling from afar, piling into these grand buildings, and standing for a moment in awe.
The other morning, as I was putting on my park uniform, I was thinking about Pittock Mansion and Vista House. And instead of wondering what everyone must see and think as they enter the doors, I started to think about the Vista House building, itself. What has Vista House seen since its opening? How have things changed since 1918? As we all know, if you spend enough time with an inanimate object (today, typically, a vehicle, computer, or phone) eventually, you gain a “sense” of that object—it begins to take on a personality of its own. Buildings, especially those with a rich history, are no different. Spend enough time with Vista House—wash her floors, scrub her toilets, patch her leaks, paint her walls, and set her clock—hang out with her through howling winds, torrential downpours, and stunningly silent sunrises and sets—and you start to get a sense of Vista House.
So, as we prepare to celebrate her birthday on May 5, imagine with me. What has Vista House seen over the past 96 years? What was life like in 1918?
Our U.S. history course remind us that in 1918, WWI came to a close on the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month—taking 16 million lives in four years. The Flu Pandemic of 1918 took three times as many (50 million) in less than a year. As for every-day life, we Vista House fans know that in 1918, cars were becoming increasingly common as were the roads they traveled upon—although trains remained the primary mode of transportation.
In 1918, people relied on telegraphs and letters for their main communication. Telephones existed, but were expensive and unreliable. Radio existed, but commercial broadcasts did not. Americans spent their free time at roller rinks, pool and dance halls, movie theaters, and saloons. Films were silent and about 20 minutes in length.
In 1918, life expectancy was 53 years for men, 54 for women. Women began stepping outside of the home, working as teachers and secretaries; some, for the war effort, took traditionally male jobs in factories. Soon, women would be given the right to vote. Sports fans could tell us that the Boston Red Sox won the World Series in 1918 and wouldn’t do so again until 2004. In July of 1918, revolutionary Nelson Mandela, President of South Africa and recipient of the Nobel Peace Prize, was born. Mandela passed just last year.
Nearly 100 years. I can only begin to imagine all that Vista House has seen since her doors first opened. And all of the work that has been done to keep them open.
Here’s to Vista House—Happy Birthday; to you—“Thank you”; and to another 96-plus years of service for all of us.
A couple of us rangers are attending the PCTA Trails Skills College in Cascade Locks this weekend and couldn’t help but to stop and ID the flowers.
Near Tooth Rock Trailhead:
Rangers have been hiking the Gorge on their work and free time and capturing fantastic shots of wildflowers.
Here’s the first round from the “Crown Point of the East”:
Rowena Crest and Tom McCall Preserve
I still remember my first spring in Oregon. I was surprised by (and called home to report about) three things:
One, Oregonians mow their lawns if it has been rain-free for a mere few hours, and they do so in their rubber boots. As kids, we all had to mow our corner lot back in Iowa. And, according to Papa’s rules, you did not mow unless it had been dry for at least 24 hours – 48 was preferred. “Papa! They are mowing during something called a ‘sunbreak!’ And they’re wearing galoshes!”
Two, the weather is completely unpredictable. It will be sunny one moment, sprinkling the next, spitting hail for ten minutes, and then turn sunny again. I had two near-bouts with hypothermia during spring longs runs out in the Willamette Valley countryside before I figured out that I had to dress in extreme layers.
Three, there are more rainbows (and double-rainbows) out here than I have ever seen in all the years of my life. I remember when my college friend, Jack, came out for a visit. We went to the Mt. Angel Abbey on a beautiful spring day. It sprinkled, then it hailed, and then sprinkled again. “Just wait,” I whispered, “This is rainbow weather.” And, sure enough, a rainbow appeared as the sun broke through a hole in the clouds.
It was spring. And, in the Valley (and the Gorge), spring means Rainbow Season.
Here are some recent beauties taken by rangers and friends in the Gorge area.