Friday, April 29, 2011

Chetco

It was a relatively quiet weekend after playing a little music on Friday night. On Saturday I was dealing with my imminent permanent departure from Curry County. Sad but true. Monday was an office day where I convinced ArcGIS that it could give me the XYZ of a cross section line at full LIDAR resolution. I swear, ESRI is the worst. The fix involved some hidden module that functions like the old DENSIFYARC and LATTICESPOT together. I already forgot where it was buried in the toolbox; maybe it was ‘Interpolate Surface’ or similarly intuitive tripe. So back down the the Chetco I went on Tuesday for a little more geotech drilling. It is interesting that the first actual work for me here takes place with my car packed with the last of my things.

After work, I looked for a camp further upstream. There as a beautiful USFS campground that was closed down. I haven’t seen an abandoned, full-service campground before. It had been closed for a few years. Further up, I found Redwood Bar and was pretty happy and found some quiet time with the beautiful river.



I couldn’t have anticipated my tranquil evening speared through the heart in such fine fashion (but I should have). It was Shelley’s birthday, and 10-15 of her rowdy friends met at Redwood Bar to burn a sofa or two in her honor. They were so close to me and yet I think they missed me altogether. Their party lasted from 10 p.m. until 2:30 a.m. Evidently Jack and his F150 bit off more than they could chew, as Brooking’s finest rammed the truck between trees, boulders, and a slope far too steep for the inebriated driver and the badly running Ford. They were especially close at this point, less than 30 feet from me.

After the bowl was passed around I suppose they calmed down and the many big trucks made their way, screeching tires uphill to whatever these creatures call home. All except for Jack. When a girl declared comically after he hit two or three trees, &ldqou;YOU”RE DONE, JACK. YOU’RE DONE. So he drove his truck down to the gravel bar. They all called her party popper. A few hours later, the Ford power was as dead as they come. No amount of jumper power could save it. In the morning, this was the scene as I drove the heck out of there:

I was once young. I don’t think I have burned a sofa. Not a fan of littering really, either. Back to our day drilling; I miss my mega zoom Sony often, especially for shots of the crescent moon. Here I zoomed the LX5 to 4x, placed the 1.7 lens for the sony and even zoomed digitally a bit.

Drill rigs are elaborate machinery.

Our friend, Poison Oak.

I ate the best fish tacos I can ever recall. Three of them. There was also a new Ninkasi Spring Ale that was fun to try. As I sat on the bench at Harris Beach, I noticed there was a campground behind me. This is looking west-southwest through the LX5 at 4x plus the 1.7x adapter held up.

Across the street, the evergreens

It is a beautiful campground though a little close to 101, just north of Brookings. I hope I get a nice long rest tonight.

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