The Portland Garden Club got a closeup look at the Wild and Scenic stretch of the Grande Ronde last week during the sweet spot going on right now with flows that allow for a 38-mile day trip.

Captain Morgan Jenkins and I were driving shuttle rigs, and swung wide on the way down to Troy by taking the Rattlesnake Grade. We wanted to keep off the gravel roads to keep the work rigs clean. And hey, Boggan’s Oasis was right there so we had a cheeseburger while we were at it.

Trucking along the Grande Ronde on our way to the Mud Creek takeout, the momma deer pictured below and her little fawn wobbled through the grass just off the road.

I don’t believe I’ve seen such a youngster of the deer family ever. This little creature hadn’t been long in the world but had the good sense to take cover when Mom said over her shoulder, “We’re not losing them, take cover and I’ll distract them. Here’s some crayons. Stay under this bush and color for awhile.”

I fumbled around for my camera but wasn’t quick enough to get the lens cover off and snap a picture while mom and the tiny deer were making their way across the meadow on foot. Or hoof. Here’s a photo right after the fawn took cover and mom trotted off. You can see the little spotted feller at the very bottom of the frame. You have to look close. It's . . . well, you can't really see it, but it's there.

Impressive camo. If I hadn’t seen the fawn lay down, never would have spotted it in the grass. My mom used to do the same thing with me. Took me out in our lawn and made me hide under trees for a few hours. Never really explained what I was hiding from, but she sure saved on babysitters that way.

Down the road another few clicks, saw these national symbols having a snack on a rock bar.

Magpies and crows were trying to sneak in, but the eagles weren’t too concerned. Not rightly sure what they were eating, fish or a Subway sandwich or whatever. They seemed to be enjoying it, though.

So even driving along the river is exciting during the spring. Moreso on the river. Paul, Tom, Craig and the Garden Club reported seeing a cinnamon bear during the float. I once saw a cinnamon and sugar bear. It was a cub. Trying to hide under a bush. But the heavenly scent gave it away. Almost like a cinnabun.

That is what a roadless section of Grande Ronde looks like. Available now in bite-size daytrips.

The first salespitch I remember being nervous about was for a raft. A used yellow Sevylor at a garage sale. 5 person model. Apparently Sevylors are made by hobbits, because ain’t no five normal people fitting in that thing.

The raft was fifty bucks. I was a kid and did not possess fifty bucks. Looking back, I laugh at that because now I’m an adult and still don’t have fifty bucks. But I digress.

I pedaled my BMX bike back home in a fury, skidding to a halt in the driveway and then composing myself to seal this deal . . . had to have that raft. It could take me places. The Willamette River ran by our house and with a boat in reach I just didn’t see skipping rocks under Jasper Bridge as good enough anymore. Had to get on the water. Same deal when Paul, Penny and Morgan mentioned they might take me on with the Winding Waters crew. Excited.

So I casually exploded into the house and found Dad. Started laying out the glories of the Sevylor raft and all the many extras that came with this package . . . from the top-of-the-line footpump we later discovered to be a leaky bellows to the custom box for storing gear which was a crude plywood crate. A mere fifty dollars. What’s it going to take to get you into that Sevylor raft today, Dad? Think of the fun the family can have. The freedom. Deals like this only come along so often and you’ve got to reach out and grab that Sevylor, et cetera, et cetera.

I have the good fortune of having a dad that doesn’t need much convincing in the boat department. I took him back to that garage sale and that Sevylor ended up floating me and my friends down the river more than enough times to pay off that fifty bucks.

That reminds me. I don’t think I ever paid Dad back for that. Check’s in the mail, Daddy-o.

It’s prime day trip season right now here in our corner of eastern Oregon on the Grande Ronde River. Wait. Let me rephrase that. Day trips are always prime if you can’t pull off overnighters. But there’s a unique day trip window of opportunity open right now, with the Grande Ronde running high enough to scoot you through 38 miles in a day. And the wildlife viewing is awfully good right now.

There's birdies.

And the bears are landscaping right now.

We put in at Minam, on the Wallowa River. Float ten miles and pick up the Grande Ronde flow, then another 28 to Mud Creek takeout above the town of Troy. Normally that run would take three days at summer flow, or a busy two.

Grande Ronde River mother and child enjoying the water.

Day trips on the Willamette as a kid in that Sevylor were high points growing up. I’d have to get the lawn mowed first, arrange the expedition and we’d have to talk one of our moms into picking us up at the end of the trip—but once we were on the water, it was all Huck Finn, exploring and there aren’t many things I wouldn’t chuck aside in favor of pumping up that old garage sale raft to push off down the Willamette and float for the day.

So get your chores done so you can go on a day trip while the Grande Ronde is up.

We checked the storeroom at Winding Waters headquarters and looks like there’s plenty of water and snowmelt in the works for another rip-roaring whitewater season. Back in the fall the snowpack was looking marginal so we sent Morgan into the mountains with a backpack sprayer and he stood on the summit of Mount Joseph to seed the clouds. Seemed to work. Thanks, Mo.

This here is what the GR looks like above 15-thou, looking at the Minam Motel from the ramp.

The Grande Ronde River is feeling its Wheaties right now, running in the 15-thousandish ballpark—which makes a daytrip out of the scenic roadless section that usually requires several rotations of the planet to negotiate.

There’s a two-day trip launching this weekend with our friends from the Wallowa Land Trust, who have been doing good work out here in the Wallowa Country to keep special lands special. Click that link back there in the last sentence to see what they’ve got going on. Not yet, though, wait until you finish reading this . . . attention spans these days, I'm telling you.

I’ve got another recipe to run by the Winding Waters kitchen department for riverside dining. My niece and nephew, Claire and Joe, spent some time fishing in Grandpa’s pond for magnetic plastic fish, which is an invasive species if the magnet falls out and you can’t retrieve them from the pond, but these were nice and healthy.

Brain food

Add some grass, cedar fronds, lava rocks and a handful of dirt, then simmer for a couple minutes and get your Uncle Jon to try it. I wouldn’t normally order plastic fish chowder, but I found the taste is surprisingly powerful, yet subtle, with undertones of landscaping and an enticing, almost magnetic finish. I think it’s a winner.

Claire has trouble talking co-chef Joe into tasting their creation. That gave me pause.

Paul’s got openings for river trips in Hells Canyon, lower Salmon and our backyard favorite the Grande Ronde, so give him and jingle and we’ll get this party started.

See you on the river.

Jon

The spice box for our river kitchen has one vital ingredient – the outdoors. Salt, pepper, tarragon . . . oh yeah, and we’re in Hells Canyon, dining below towering cliffs. I'll be darned. Would you look at that. Sprinkle a little natural splendor over your entrée, why don’t you. And here’s some fresh-ground grandeur too. Voila’ . . . fine dining in the wilderness.

So far I haven’t been much help when Paul, Morgan and the other culinary-minded river folks kick around ideas for new menu items. Because I don’t see anything wrong with our existing menu items. I cried and cried when they tried to sideline Santa Fe cakes for breakfast. They patted me on the back and assured me it was just a timeout for the hot summer weather and the Santa Fe would have a triumphant return come fall and spring.

Then I rebelled when they announced the Hawaiian pork tenderloin in a dutch oven would be out of rotation for a while. Oh, but wait, the chile verde with baked-on cornbread topping was perhaps even better. What am I saying…not better. Just otherly-great.

Finally, though, I have a dinner suggestion. Found it down in Mexico. I stopped along the beach at the Shrimp Bucket in the old part of Mazatlan. Thought I might get some juice and maybe a taco or two. Had a hankering for juice after passing a fresh-squeezed stand earlier that day.

I did not pass this stand. Ate four tacos and only noticed later the specialty was brains and tongue. Mmm.

Waiter asked if I wanted a cerveza. No, gracias. Not in a beer mood right now. I’ll just have some jugo. Ah, but it’s two-for-one, he informed me. No thanks, just the juice.

He reasoned with me by repeating, two-for-one. And I could see his logic. It would be wasteful to order the one-for-one juice. He had me there. So he brought out a couple Pacificos in a little bucket and the sea breeze was coming onto the veranda and the sun was angling down and the sand lice weren’t biting my ankles all that badly after wading in the ocean – just a pleasant, all-around setting.

From volcano to table in just a few short geologic epochs.

Then I saw it. My new favorite serving dish. On the menu was the following:

Molcajetes

Hot volcanic rock bowl filled with . . .

Whoah. Stop right there. “Hot volcanic rock bowl”?

Lady in the middle just heard about the volcanic bowls.

I’ll take it. I don’t even care what’s in it. If it’s in a volcanic rock bowl I want some.

Turns out what’s in it is: “…shrimp, chicken or steak with grilled onions, cactus leaves (cactus leaves! That doesn’t even sound appealing, like ordering a thornbush, but these are in a volcano bowl…) fresh cheese and a spicy sauce with choice of tortilla.”

The cactus leaves were exotic, which means not really very good to this gringo set of tastebuds. Kind of like a green pepper but with the consistency of thin leather. I started leaving them out of my choice of tortillas.

But, man. Love that volcano bowl. And so I finally have a great suggestion for the Winding Waters kitchen lineup. If I have my way, we’ll be serving our river meals inside hot volcanic Snake River Canyon hand-carved basalt bowls. Geology and gastromony all in one.

Might be a little on the heavy side, sure. And I don’t know if the basalt down there is actually volcanic, per se, but everything’s better inside a hot rock bowl. That much I know.

I’m going to tap Morgan to make these things. He’s been going great guns on the ceramics lately and if he can make artistic birdhouses out of clay, carving rock bowls shouldn’t be too hard.

Purty stuff made by Morgan's sweetie, Tara.

And two-for-one Pacificos. That might also add a little something to the dining experience.

See you on the river.

Bright sunny weather in Hells Canyon, along the sandy lower Salmon River beaches and in the Grande Ronde River roadless corridor is one big reason whitewater rafting in northeast Oregon is so almighty beautiful and enjoyable. Love that vitamin D. SPF 30 is my favorite cologne.

Best use of oars right after rowing a boat.

But too much of a good thing can make shade worth ten bucks a square foot and that’s where river wings come in. Possibly my favorite piece of gear in the world of river equipment, wings are lovely for kicking back in the shade or riding out a rain shower and if no weather rolls in that you need to dodge, well a wing just looks cool. With the oars for uprights and tied off to a boulder here, a hackberry tree over there.

Wing setup has given me a whole new perspective for looking at a campsite. You roll in with the gearboat, look around for the best kitchen spot, dining area and likely wing placement.

I’ve seen some high degrees of creativity in setting up one of these shelters and you can use anything from sticks and rocks to sand anchors, to tying off from the boat . . . a wind gust is a sure test of structural integrity and it ain’t no fun to have a wing blow over on you when you really need it.

So I just got back from Mexico and here are some shots of the many innovative sun shelters I spied along the beach in Mazatlan.

Mexico Street. I want to go to there...again.

I saw guy lines tied off of rusty nails in the seawall. Posts made from palm fronds. One wing made from a twin bed sheet with the Jetsons on it.

The ol' umbrella/bedsheet combo...very nice.

Little intrusive to be taking pictures of a family kicking back on the beach, so these were covert photos snapped while walking by, holding my camera down at my hip. Not trying to be intrusive, beachgoers … just admiring your handiwork is all.

Bracing off a taco wagon and a handrail. Superb use of surroundings.

So the Winding Waters gang will soon be setting wings up again. Paul got the first river time in with a trip down the Owyhee last week. Check the Winding Waters Facebook page for pictures … and sign up as a Winding Waters friend if you haven’t already.

Had a look at the schedule today and it looks like a whole bunch of good times. We’ve got openings, so round up the friends and family and come floating with us, why don’t you. Hells Canyon wildflowers should be gearing up for their annual show and the white sands of the Salmon River are replenishing themselves as we speak. And the Grande Ronde seems to be very popular this year for birdwatchers...then again it's popular for river watchers, big ol' tree watchers, fishermen, good-time folks...it's got broad appeal, that one. Call Paul and talk over all the options.

Do you hear that? It’s the river. And it’s calling.