In early December, ’07 there was a high wind condition accompanied by rain on the Oregon coast.  Ho hum, another typical winter day on the coast, where it is well known to rain horizontally. 

The Columbia River bar is known for its treachery.  In 1999, the Panamanian ship New Carissa foundered on the beaches near Coos Bay, to its end.  Its remnants disgrace the incredibly beautiful and rough Oregon Coast to this day.  So high wind and rain is just no big thing around here. 

What sets apart the storm in December was the sequence of gentle soaking rain to soften the ground, and winds gusting to either side of the 100 mile mark.  It had been wet. It became very windy.

I visited the coast today, and saw first hand the lasting effects of some wind.  Living here since 1973 has provided many times to enjoy the beauty of the coastal mountains, trees, waterfalls etc.  I have not seen this level of blow down.

One sad element here, is that because of the "environmental movement" and the storm being a "natural" disaster, most, if not all of the fallen timber is off limits to logging.  What a waste. There are thousands of acres, just like this!

Douglas firs grow well in groves and whole mountain sides, where they can survive because of the shelter of the closeness of their respective root balls.  Their roots grow relatively shallow, nearly flat, and only to the approximate diameter of the foliage above ground. There is no deep root system and no tap root.  Solo trees in an open plain are uncommon, because they get blown down.  In the coast range, the forest is pretty dense and the trees benefit.  Big rain and big wind blowing trees over in soggy ground is extreme, but feasible.  It’s just unusual and surprising.

What has really blown me away was the additional damage to the trees that were simply broken off at their branches.  They were left standing as high as the trunks were without branches.  Where the branches and foliage (wind drag) were, the trees were simply ripped apart, leaving standing trunks.  The degree of downed timber is very reminiscent of the blow down at Mt. St.Helens, WA when it erupted 5/18/1980.  I witnessed it first hand from 45 miles due South.

~ some of the pics that I took today

Giants, laying "toes up" by the roadside

 That giant behind the Subaru has a 17' diameter trunk, at its base!  It was the Largest Sitka Spruce in the US. 

( local fish wrapper article ) http://www.katu.com/news/local/12043736.html

I left my truck there for "scale."

The sticker on the window is just what it looks like, an accordion. 

When a tree falls in the forest . . .

My, oh my, what we do for our pets.  First thing this morning, my wife Marjorie tells me that we need to give Brinn, her indoor-only cat, “fluids”.  It’s a bit of a rush, because I hadn’t planned on the infusion time in my morning time planning.  So we do what Brinn needs.  I hung the liter of saline solution from the ceiling fan and took a careful grasp on her torso, so she wont run off.  Marjorie has inserted a large needle under her skin behind her shoulders.  The drip starts.  It’s going slowly, too slowly.  So I put a little squeeze on the bottle.  Big misake. Brinn told me so in no uncertain terms, and right away.  Hey, how was I to know?  100cc’s later and it’s time for feeding. Warmed, pureed food via 2cc syringe.  She didn’t like it, but she did eat.  And at this point, that’s a success.  Marjorie has had Brinn since she was a tiny kitten, 19 years ago.  So we do all that we can to take good care of her.

I mentioned that she will get the chance to do the same for me, when I am too old to chew.  Her reply was “force feed you cat food?”  ugh.

I am really glad to live where our two other cats can have the time of their lives.  2+ acres of grass and garden.  There are pastures adjacent to us with beef cattle, sheep, and rodents.  Romeo, a long-haired Turkish Van, is in his element in the pastures.  He has the patience of a saint, just waiting for something, anything to rustle.  Over the winter, we have had black plastic covering much of the garden. Romeo watches the plastic, and when the moment is right, he pounces.  He seems to hit with both front paws and his teeth simultaneously.  We have seen him pull a mouse right through the black plastic, leaving a good sized hole.  It’s not him hunting, it’s millions of years of his ancestors hunting via him.  So we praise him.  We don’t let him bring his prizes in the house, mind you, but we do praise his work.  He also stalks birds, from under a bush.  I have seen him snatch a hummingbird from mid-hover.  It’s incredible. 

I guess the cats are on my mind, because they pay such attention to me, especially when I have been on the road for a day or two.  The next day, they will come to my keyboard and pull rank.  They need some attention.  I am helpless, but to take care of them.  I have learned that if I comb them, they only like it for a few minutes. Then I can have my desk back. 

Captain Jack, an all-black Maine Coon, is quite a curmudgeon. When he came from the cat adoption place, he was heavily matted and unhappy about it.  We couldn’t brush or even really touch him.  I think he may have been mistreated.  He was very defensive.  We had him clipped to a lions cut, the first summer.  I decided to “always take time to pet the cats.”  So whenever I enter the room, I stop what I am doing, set down whatever I am carrying and take a moment to greet and pet the cats.  Initially, they didn’t want anything to do with me.  Now some years later, they adore me.  I find it terribly flattering.  Captain Jack is still quiet, (compared with Romeo, the crowd pleaser) and can often be found just outside the room where ever I am, facing the other way, keeping an eye out for danger.  He guards us, like a lion in a pride, on the plains.  They rest facing away from the group, always vigilant.  So, again it’s not him displaying this behavior. It’s thousands of generations of his predecessors standing guard through him.  They are so cool.

I am pleased to be able to provide them a great place to be themselves.