Cinder Hill Campground – East Lake ~ A Campground Review

We recently camped at East Lake, in Central Oregon, for the first time and what a joy! Sitting at 6500ft elevation, in the Newberry Crater, it is absolutely a summer outing, but the gorgeous lake, high desert landscape, and endless night skies, more than make up for the chill in the air.

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Cooking Necessities

I tried to slip deeper into the corner as the six or seven men crowding the room chopped and stirred with deliberate haste. The youngest of them crouched on their haunches, low to the floor, in that way some cultures seem born to do and I have yet to master. Chopping boards rested directly on the not so clean floor as they chopped and sliced fragrant garlic, onions and tomatoes. Upon seeing the amount of chilies being added to the mix, I knew we were ensured a fiery curry tonight! Two men worked feverishly over large, dented metal pots, cooking down the mutton and vegetables, as the fragrant smell of spices circled above them. In spite of the cool desert air, perspiration glazed their skin.

I stood in awe, incredibly honored to have been asked to watch the dinner preparation, for in India, women did NOT cook outside the home. Intimidated by being jammed into a 10X10 room with these hardworking cooks, I reflected on the miracles of time and place that had brought me here.

Three knives, two cutting boards, and a two-burner hot plate. That was all required to serve up a fantastic dinner that fed the entire camp of over twenty. It forever changed my view of the “necessary”.

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Happy Birthday Porter!

Two years ago today, while still reeling from the loss of Maddy, and completely unsure we were ready for another dog, I nonetheless sent Jim to the Humane Society to look at a black dog named Jones. I then received a text picture of a dog named Porter and the message “Meet Porter, when I hugged him, he just leaned in for the hug”. That evening, Porter became a Delameter.

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A Weekend Away

“We’re sorry, but we’re not going to make it this weekend”. The words rang hollow as we prepared to head to the beach for a weekend of camping with friends. Barview Jetty was the destination to join our dear friends Ron and Dario. Our friends Dave and Anne decided they would come along. Next Dario’s childhood friend Sheila and her boyfriend Randy thought they would make the trip as well. But on Thursday afternoon, Ron let it be known that they would not be joining us.

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India on my Mind

I dream of travel. My nights are spent luxuriating on the beach in Mexico, eating my weight in SE Asian street noodles, being awoken long before dawn by the roar of an African lion. Sometimes my dreams aren’t quite as vivid, rather than memories of past journeys, they consist of the anticipation of what is to come. These days those dreams have a lot of llamas in them.

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RED ROCK BURNOUT!

It can happen at anytime to anyone. Long term travelers succumb most easily because of the sheer intensity they experience regularly, but anyone can experience burnout. Whether it be cathedral/museum burnout on a two-week marathon through Europe, or, in my case, red rock burnout in Moab.

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Hiking Moab

Ahhh, Moab. That fabled adventure town in Utah. Traveling in the heat in late May with two black dogs, we longed to hike the famous red rock canyons, but knew we needed to find something that allowed for shade and water in this arid landscape. We found the perfect solution at Negro Bill Canyon.

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An Invitation

The Invitation ~ by Oriah Mountain Dreamer

It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living
I want to know what you ache for
and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing.

It doesn’t interest me how old you are
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool
for love
for your dreams
for the adventure of being alive.

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Embracing Serendipity

I sat in the rickshaw, trying to think of anything cool, sweating profusely in the mid-afternoon heat of Southern India. Jim was in yet another seedy hotel, searching for an acceptable room, a dismal possibility, even according to Lonely Planet. As usual, my job was to wait with the bags and the tuk-tuk, rickshaw, taxi…. whatever our current form of  transportation entailed. It had been one hell of a day, beginning with us arriving late for our water taxi, being forced to run along the banks of the river with our full packs, and leaping aboard as it pulled away from shore. After a 4-hour journey through the back canals of Kerala, we arrived in a no-name town, our stop for the night en-route to get to Kumily. And it was hot. Like 98 and humid hot.

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