Archive for the 'Camping' Category



solitude, children playing, camping, fishing, a gazillion stars, afternoon breezes, naps, scrapes and teaching about nature. Fond memories…

Big Summit Prairie, Ochoco Mtns. Oregon, 1993


taking the edge off…

a chilly morning. The sounds of crackling kindling, the smell of the smoke and that nice warmth. Not something I get to do often unless camping and/or fishing on a chilly morning.

fire, wood stove, warmth, SwittersB



Wood smoke…

along the river’s edge. The smell reminds one of camping. The leaves fall like big snow flakes, fluttering down to form  an orange and yellow carpet. Later the river will rise to wash them away. 



afternoon breeze….

summertime lakeside

afternoon winds pushing waves 

cold feet in the heat



looking up…

“Solitude shows us what should be; society shows us what we are.” Robert Cecil



Boys & Bones

I have been sorting through decades of stuff lately around the house. Purging, leaning down, minimalizing. I have now dug down into long forgotten boxes that sat beneath boxes and duffle bags…boxes that contain ‘treasures’ that had to be kept thirty some years ago. Young boys in the wilderness or camping along rivers and lakes came upon treasures that were special enough they would cart them back to camp, their collective faces sweaty, covered in grime and peach fuzz showing excitement and imagination.

Often such treasures were bones. Bones of various animals that had met their end and this generated a multitude of questions that allowed my furtive imagination to provide exciting answers and possibilities. Today I found an old jaw bone and teeth, a skull, part of a spine and even an old shark jaw from Mexico. As I stood in the last light of the day, the moon once again rising in full majesty, I recalled so many years ago little guys that today, as men, still enjoy the outdoors and the camping, fishing, hiking and roughing that goes with it. An old, musty box on the bottom shelf of the shed long forgotten. I am not getting rid of the bones. Grandchildren need to hear about these bones. 




“Thousands of tired, nerve-shaken, over-civilized people are beginning to find out going to the mountains is going home; that wilderness is a necessity…”  John Muir

“Camping: The art of getting closer to nature while getting farther away from the nearest cold beverage, hot shower and flush toilet.”  Silence Dogood

“How is it that one match can start a forest fire, but it takes a whole box of matches to start a campfire?” ~Christy Whitehead



Camping: Early Morning

camping-morning light-photography-woods-SwittersBCamping and early morning: I am up before anyone else. There is a chill in the shadows, so I seek the emerging sunshine and it offers that hint of warmth to the face. The air at higher altitude is refreshing and crisp. A few sounds carry through the woods…someone else is up early. A waft of smoke in the distance from a campfire. The birds are chirping. A few chipmunks scurry about. It is time to sit, to retain the morning calm and enjoy the solitude.


Odd Ramblings: Richard Brautigan, Trout Fishing in America

photography-trout-rainbow-fish-fly fishing-Oregon-SwittersB

This, for me, is part of the fun with blogging. Discoveries beyond the sought after. This morning, I was going to post the above image of a beautiful Rainbow Trout my son Tony caught in Oregon. I noted the spotted, olive back and thought to myself I need to find a quote, poem, something about the beautiful topside of a spotted trout. A long shot I figured.

I started perusing the net for ideas and for some reason I repeatedly came upon links to one Richard Brautigan. Not being particularly well read, I wasn’t sure who this writer was but hey he had written something called Trout Fishing in America. I found a link to many of Brautigan’s writings and was beset with a curious assortment of quotes from what had to be the 60’s. A total throw back for my mind to the Tom Wolfe, Tom Robbins…the wildly poetic, fanciful, different way of saying things, imagining things. It certainly challenged my early morning mindset.

Then I came upon an interesting bio piece on Richard Brautigan on the writing process for Trout Fishing in America that involved fly fishing, camping, travel, writing on an old typewriter and found it most fascinating. Check out the links and explore a bit. The bio is particularly interesting regarding the writing process. More Tragic Brautigan

It is interesting how one thing leads to another and a discovery is made that at a minimum gives momentary delight or perhaps opens the door to something more exploratory in the future.

Aren’t those spots on the Trout’s olive back beautiful. Maybe that’s all I had to say.


Photography: Campfires & Reflections

Flame CAMP CREEKA time of quiet reflection. Whether inside or outside, the initial revelry is over. The fire was started with flare and excitement. The marshmallows, S’mores, burning stick tips and adding too much wood are over. The fire has settled in. The ghost stories are over. Now one just stares into the coals beneath the flames, smells the smoke, feels the heat, hears the pops and cracks and reflects upon the past day. Sleep beckons.

Below @ “The Past” you can search back to 2008 month by month

July 2020

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