Eating the Scenery

 Furthermore Chieftain column, August 2012

It’s a shame I can’t talk myself into living somewhere crowded or ugly, where the odds would be much better for making big piles of money. I prefer the big mountains, trees and pretty stuff out here over big paychecks. It may not do much for my financial bottom line, but there’s another sort of bottom line and sometimes you’ve got to choose.

 People say you can’t eat the scenery. That’s supposed to be a reason to leave somewhere you like to move somewhere you don’t. Well, I’ve got a cookbook in the works that should put this can’t-eat-the-scenery argument to rest. I might even throw in a recipe or two for heavily populated areas, where there’s no scenery to be concerned about eating but the air is so thick you have to chew it first to get it down.

To eat the scenery in Wallowa County you will need one large mixing bowl, a pair of hiking boots, a dull kitchen knife from Soroptomist, a cutting board made from barnwood at least 80 years old, spices, whisk and an old iron skillet you got from someone you like.

 Allow plenty of time to gather ingredients for your scenery, because just like the grocery aisles in Wallowa County you will likely run into friends while shopping. Visiting with these people will take a while. Don’t rush it. This is the marinade. It’s part of the process. For spicy dishes, try talking about wolves or something to add some heat.

One of my favorite scenery dishes for special occasions is a nice batch of Zumwalt camas cakes with wildflower skewers over a bed of whole grain Hells Canyon. There’s a lot of flavors going on in this one, so don’t overdo it. Too much Hells Canyon can overpower the subtle textures of Zumwalt essence.

 For breakfast, you can’t go far wrong with a Ruby Peak frittata and a side of sesame scree, then add a dollop of Ice Lake snowfield. To sweeten it up, run a drizzle of mountain meadow syrup over the top. Any mountain meadow will do, but I get mine from the aspen grove up by Aneroid.

Chesnimnus hawthorn meat cakes are a stout hearty meal in the fall or winter. Sprinkle on a handful of habanero Hurricane Creek pine nuts, best gathered during a stroll up to Slick Rock on a nice day with a happy dog.

Many of these recipes are seasoned with an all-around spice I’ve developed that includes equal portions of Upper Imnaha, finely ground Bowlby stone, Tick Hill at sunset, Loop Road tamarack, Mount Joseph avalanche chute and pepper. It really brings out the flavors.

 The dessert chapter of the Wallowa County Scenery Cookbook includes Hat Point Road Crispies, Candied Lostine Canyon Fritters, Floating On Your Back in Wallowa Lake in August Bars and Lemon Rattlesnake Grade Sherbert.

It’s been slow going trying to finish this cookbook. One problem is the view out the window of my writing cabin requires a lot of looking at. Then rivers need to be floated, sundowns demand attention and walks need to be taken. City sidewalks are direct, but sidewalks out here can mean you end up meandering off to the side of whatever trail you intended to take. It’s all very time consuming. But if you do it right, the time it takes gives something back. A balanced diet is important.

I’ll get this cookbook done one of these days and hand a copy to anyone who tells me you can’t eat the scenery. The real problem with Wallowa County scenery isn’t whether you can eat it or not, it’s still being hungry for more. So remember to mix in your morels, venison, huckleberries, steelhead and whatever else with where you got them, stir, let simmer and enjoy. Bon appetit.

The Mighty Roar of the Ever-Polite Evinrude

Some weeks back my pal Kristy Athens toodled through the Wallowas on her book tour for Get Your Pitchfork On! The Real Dirt on Country Living which, let it be known, is more than the real dirt, it's the peat moss and the Miracle Gro and quite simply an indispensable guidebook that you should not venture out of a city limit without.

I promised her a fun-filled boating excursion on the healing waters of Wallowa Lake and instead the blankety motor wouldn't run so we bobbed around and ate cherries. It looked like this –

Have you checked the viscosity?

Not all bad, eating cherries. But there was a noticeable lack of the wind whipping through our hair as we sported across the picturesque lake.

Well, no more.

Here is proof positive that the S.S. Rombach is back on it's sea legs.

Higher

Red cowgirl boots. A swing. Claire knows just what to wear for every occasion.

Anna went with the pink Crocs. Also a fine choice. Both sisters have a keen sense of footwear for a day at the park.

That's their cousin Jacob with the assist.

Radio Dave Nelson

And Furthermore, Wallowa County Chieftain July 4, 2012

Anybody remember that TV show ‘Northern Exposure‘ from the ‘90s? It was set in a little Alaskan town with a radio station that had a guy who just talked about whatever. That struck me as something I wouldn’t mind doing. 

So when I moved here to this little Oregon town I saw the KWVR Radio office and thought I’d give it a shot. Walked in, met the manager Dave Nelson and remember thinking his voice, which sounded like a thunderstorm approaching, had no business coming out of such a compact person. He looked more like a horse jockey than a disc jockey, with a voice like Bill Knox.

Dave asked if I had radio experience. I said yes, I watched a lot of Northern Exposure. He stared at me and said he didn’t understand. I said the TV show. He said he didn’t watch TV. I made my apologies for being an idiot and got up to leave. He said to leave my number in case something came up. And it did. I got a great job at KWVR and loved it. Later on I met some big city radio folks at a broadcasting convention and they shook their heads after hearing how I got into the business. They had seen Northern Exposure but insisted it just doesn’t work that way. Nobody just walks in and gets a radio job. I asked if they’d ever been to the Wallowas. They said no. We all just stood there shaking our heads.

I’ve seen some hard workers in my day. Usually from a safe distance. But Dave Nelson put in more hours than most clocks. He’d be a couple hours into his workday by the time I showed up for the morning news. And he’d usually still be doing paperwork when I shut down a late-night broadcast and headed for home. In the winter I would describe the sun to Dave so it wouldn’t come as a shock once the days got longer.

Live radio can get hectic and Dave would manage a startling number of things in motion all at once. Not multi-tasking but simul-tasking. Big stations have engineers running the controls who just point at the announcer when it’s time to talk. KWVR announcers do it all, throwing the switches, watching the clock, timing the breaks and fitting everything in. I remember watching Dave during my training as he interviewed a Senator while also downloading a weather update, cueing up the crop report and drawing winners for the birthday giveaway all at once. Then he thanked the Senator, switched the mic on just in time and found the good parts in a news dispatch that had just showed up in the booth, reading and editing at the same time. That’s a real trick, to proofread on the fly like that. I could never pull it off. And his delivery never gave anything away during the chaos.

I was asked a lot what it was like to work with somebody who is so serious. But that’s not really the case. Dave’s sense of humor can be so tinder-dry, with a delivery so subtle that a joke wouldn’t combust for minutes, hours, sometimes a day or more. I like to point it out immediately when I think I’m being clever but Dave will wait it out. No telling how many of his jokes flew over my head without being picked up on radar.

Some folks still call him Radio Dave, though he shifted careers a while back and you may know him now as Dollar Stretcher Dave, where he manages the store. Next time you’re in there ask Dave to do a price check on something to hear the radio voice. Then ask him to do a weather report. He loves that.

Dave was a great boss and has been a great friend and I’m just pleased as can be to congratulate Dave and his bride-to-be Kathy O’Meara Shoemaker on their summer wedding coming up. 

For years Dave and I took turns reading the weather, so I’m going to jump in here with a forecast. Wedding meteorologists predict many happy years for Kathy and Dave, with nothing but blue skies and a perpetual happiness front. The forecast does call for one big shower, but it’s bridal. Congratulations, you two. We now return to our regularly scheduled Chieftain.

Pigeon Launcher

Behold my newest paperweight – a cast iron clay pigeon flight delivery system made by the Western Cartridge Co. back in I-don't-know-when.

I'm told you bolt the legs to a spare tire for a base, then hook a team of draft horses to the arm to pull it back, then yank the rope to unleash the fury that is the spring-loaded Western Cartridge Co. skeet machine.

Last time I yelled "Pull," was shooting the trap course over by Monument with Robert Stubblefield some years ago. My shotgun, a long goose gun that other guys were calling a blunderbuss and asked if I got it off the mantle of an old hunting lodge, turned out to have a bend in the barrel and helped me set the course record for not hitting a goddamn thing.

But I might get the ol' goose gun off the mantle just to try this new launcher out. I've been afraid to test it for fear of having my shin broken. It just has that look about it, like it's been dormant for years, waiting to be awoken and exact revenge. I might lengthen the rope so I can stand back farther.

Carporch

This is what it looks like when the Jeep in your driveway has a bikini top and it looks like rain so you back it under your front porch and it does rain but then in the morning there's a not-too-shabby mountain view with blue sky.

Not pictured: rain that blew in anyway.

Stepladder penthouse

I've got some uppity birds at my place. Not only did they climb the ladder to the top rung, they just went ahead and built a nest there.

This Is Not A Step. Or A Building Site.

On the bright side, I hadn't needed to use my ladder for a while. That means my outside lightbulbs hadn't burned out and I didn't have any cause to climb up and drop tools trying to accomplish something.

But when I did go to use the ladder, I couldn't help noticing someone was living there and when I took a peek inside, there were more residents on the way.

Cute little rascals.

What to do . . . what to do . . .

Omelette? No.

I went for a relocation project, hoping the new shelf was close enough that mail service wouldn't be interrupted and the parents wouldn't even notice.

So far so good. Watch out worms, these robins get up really early and their family is growing.