HALFWAY AND BACK

Halfway is a town in Baker County, Oregon, in the northeast part of the state. The town took its name from the location of its post office on the Alexander Stalker ranch, halfway between Pine and Jim Town. The population was 351 at the 2020 census. The closest town of any size is Baker City, 54 miles to the west. 

A couple of years ago my riding partner, Sam, and I visited this quaint little town on one of our motorcycle trips. Almost all the homes in town appear to have been built in the early 1900’s when the town originated but have been maintained in great shape. Most of them have fantastic flower gardens in the yard. In fact, most of the yards are flowers.  

I was so impressed with this little town that I wanted my son, Clint, to experience it. We departed Friday, the 25th of July heading south from the Lewiston-Clarkston valley on WA highway 129. This becomes OR Highway 3 when it crosses the the Grande Ronde River which is state line at the bottom of Rattlesnake Grade. Rattlesnake Grade and Buford Grade up the other side are two of the premier motorcycle grades in the country. I’ve ridden in every county in the West and ridden such famous grades as The Million Dollar Highway near Durango, CO, and Beartooth Pass on the northeast side of Yellowstone, and they have nothing on the Rattlesnake and Buford Grades. 

 I have a new GPS (Garmin Zumo 396 LMT-S) and I wanted to see if I could incorporate it in my geocaching activities. I uploaded the caches in the Zumo to take me to the general area and then used my Garmin 64SX handheld unit to zero in on the cache. We stopped before reaching Enterprise and after parking our bikes on a rough side road hiked about a ¼ mile back to the cache at the edge of the canyon which presented a fantastic panoramic view of mountains around Hells Canyon. At Enterprise, OR, we turned west on Hwy 82 and rode it over to the Island City area where we got on Hwy 203 which is a beautiful little country road. We stopped for lunch on this road at State Creek Park campground. It was almost full but we found a nice shady table to relax and eat lunch. 

Boars

It was beginning to get hot. It was about 63 degrees when we left home and 94 by the time we reached Halfway about 2:30. We stopped for gas in Baker City and proceeded east on Hwy 86 to Halfway, stopping for three more geocaches along the way. 

 After settling in at the motel we toured the town including the old cemetery on foot. We had a good meal at “The Main Place” and after leaving the waitress ran me down to deliver my hat which I typically had left. 

Mike & Camel

 We got an early start the next morning and rode east to Oxbow Dam on the Snake River. After lingering a while and reading the information signs at a kiosk we retraced our route a few miles back to Hwy 39 and the Wallowa Mountain Road which took us northwest to Joseph, OR. This road is a motorcyclist dream with many sharp curves and hills all the while surrounded by forest. We stopped just before Joseph and on a side road and picked up another cache and then rode the short way over to Enterprise before retracing our route back home getting to ride those two fantastic grades again. We got home about noon so avoided most of the heat. It was a great trip. M/W

Pictures are of yards and art work in Halfway.

Typical Halfway Yards

Part of the museum (wasn't open)

Historical Display

More Halfway Artwork

KEEPING COOL

When we’re in town on these hot days, we exercise Bess at the beach late in the afternoon. She loves to chase the balls that Mike throws into the river for her. About 3:00, she begins to remind us about the beach. At first, it’s just a gentle nudge with the snout and/or lying at my feet. As time passes, she becomes more insistent. If we don’t go for some reason, she more than mopes through the evening, sending the message that we have greatly disappointed her.

As we left the beach Sunday evening, I could see that a storm was building. It’s interesting that because we have those weather apps, we sometimes fail to use our God-given senses to read the weather. Well, at 2:30 a.m., I awoke to thunder and lightning. Bess did, too, and whined about it, so I brought her into the house. This did not immediately settle her, though. She told me how much she hates thunder and lightning. And then she woke Mike up and complained to him. “Make it stop! Make it stop!” she whined.

Note the deer. They knew I was on the porch.

Well, we didn’t make the storm stop, but it wasn’t all that close anyway. It left us with .01 inch of rain – hardly noticeable.

As we drove into the farm on Monday (July 28), we saw that some fields have already been cut while others seem ready. I could hear machines working in the distance yesterday. Our fields (spring wheat) are still too green, as you can see by the photos.

In the evening, we watched as a storm developed to the south. A wonderful cool breeze wafted through the open window. But it didn’t last. It didn’t cool the house appreciably, and it didn’t deliver any rain here.

This afternoon, I took a picture of field burning on the other side of the canyon. The smoke clouds seem to dissipate quickly.

I was reading today about planting a fall garden – a “second summer garden,” they called it. You know, I’ve never understood how to do that. It’s so hot through August that seeds don’t germinate, and by the time September arrives, the plants understand that autumn is on the way. Besides growing cooler, the days are shorter. 

I picked four strawberries, four young zucchini, one regular tomato, and five cherry tomatoes. We'll have zucchini with our pork chops for supper. KW

The pond lies behind this row of trees.

MOTHER'S POLAROID CAMERA

My grandfather, Charlie Portfors (on left), with his brother, Andrew Portfors, c. 1960

Some weeks back, we watched Mr. Polaroid, an episode of American Experience on PBS, which reminded me of the polaroid camera Mother bought about 1960.

My dad was our family photographer, and his pictures were slides, which meant we only saw them through a small viewer or when projected onto a screen. I loved watching a “slide show,” but those happened infrequently. You know, back in the day, it was a subject of jokes that evening visitors were forced to watch a boring slide show. Very few slides became prints, and now if slides are of questionable historical value, just imagine how much pictorial history we'll lose with the digital age.  

Anyway, Mother was interested in having some control of photo ops, and that polaroid camera at the jewelry store intrigued her. I used to have a photo of Mother and Daddy as the store owner demonstrated that camera.

Mother took the above photo of her father, Charlie Portfors, and his brother Andrew with her new camera. Uncle Andy, 11 years younger than Grandpa, lived in Canada and visited every other year or so. The first picture Mother took didn’t turn out, so she took another – the one that you see here. She then sang the praises of that camera which allowed her to immediately take advantage of the moment with a better photo. Today, with our digital cameras, we think nothing of taking several photos of the same subject, but in that era, picture-taking constituted an expense, even an extravagance.

Developing a picture taken with that camera was a process. As I recall, after taking the picture, you pulled it out of the camera, and then you had to wait 60 seconds before removing a protective paper. Once you had your photo in hand, it seemed like magic, but you weren’t finished yet. You had to apply a smelly chemical and wait for that to dry. Now your photo was finished, and if you wished, you could affix it to the cardboard backing provided in the kit.

But – before long, that camera lapsed into obsolescence. The camera still worked just fine but the film was discontinued. It was disappointing. Was the camera already obsolete when she bought it? Probably. Did the seller know and just not tell her? Maybe. Today, we are savvy about changing technology, but in the “old days,” we learned the hard way.

My folks were conservative when it came to taking pictures, and the polaroid camera didn’t change their philosophy. Mother didn’t take many photos, and many of them didn’t age well. But I’m pleased that the one of my grandfather and his brother has withstood the years.

The camera was still in the cupboard when we moved Mother from the house in 1991. I threw it away. KW

FALL IN THE AIR

Looking south

Honestly, just looking outside on Monday (July 21), I could have believed it was early October. It was overcast with occasional rain and a temp that hovered at 60. Remember how it was excessively hot just three days ago?

We need the rain, though. While watching the water and heat devastation hitting the Midwest and East Coast, they never mention the Pacific Northwest. “That’s a good thing,” says a friend, and I agree. At the same time, we have our own weather-related problems here – drought! -- and I wonder how we fit into the overall picture of weather change.

When I got dressed, I exchanged my nighttime pajamas for my daytime pajamas – warm-ups, a long-sleeved t-shirt, and a hoodie. Yes, that’s my wintertime uniform.

A can of pumpkin puree was calling my name, but searching the cupboard, I found that it was calling from the town house. The day seemed right for pumpkin bread, and a little heat in the house wouldn’t hurt, but it won’t be pumpkin bread. What else could I use to make quick bread? Zucchini? The squash on my vines is still quite young, but I picked two anyway. Grated they made one cup, so I made a half recipe.

Tuesday (July 22) was a little warmer, but I was still comfortable in my winter uniform. Even though we received .14 inch of rain during this cool spell, I watered my plants well and refilled the plant nannies. It’s back to town tomorrow, and it will be hot while we’re gone.

Looking north

I have picked three cherry tomatoes, two strawberries, six young zucchini, and one young crookneck. We have perhaps a dozen lovely tomatoes slowly ripening on their vines. Last year, the tomatoes didn’t set on until August. We had to pick a lot of them while still green, but they continued to ripen. Son Murray laughed that he couldn’t eat BLTs until October. This year, they set on early but are ripening slowly, and later blooms have yet to develop into fruit. I wonder if they will.

Mike and I saw a baby rattlesnake at the pond the other evening. When I see a young’un, I wonder where the nest is. KW 

SNAKE TALES

Taken July 14

Bess’ doghouse is inside the woodshed. At bedtime, she goes into her house, and Mike closes (but doesn’t lock) the woodshed door. She can easily come out, but she doesn’t. In the morning, Mike opens the woodshed and Bess comes out of her house and greets the day. 

Friday morning, as Mike went to get Bess up, discovered a rattlesnake just inside the woodshed door. Bess, who had evidently been sleeping, was now wide awake and barking. I knew what that bark meant and rushed out with the camera. Mike held the snake in tongs while I found a suitable bucket. After breakfast, Mike released the snake into the canyon. I know that our neighbors would much prefer that we kill the snakes, but Mike refuses. The snake didn’t seem very long, but Mike thought it had at least 12 rattles. This was our fifth rattler sighting of the season.

At bedtime, Mike said Bess gave the doorway of the shed a cautious but thorough sniffing before entering her house. Apparently those snake have quite an aroma about them. And yes, Bess has had her annual rattlesnake anti-venom inoculation.  

Mike just called me down to the maple tree to observe a four-foot bull snake poking its head into rodent holes.

July 19

After several excessively hot days, it has cooled down. It’s only 77 this afternoon and might not get to 70 tomorrow. Rain would be most welcome. In fact, Mike said that those big elderberry blossom heads are drying up without developing berries. Like I said, you can’t count on fruit even if it looks good. Things happen.

July 19

The other day, I picked another quart of cherries, and they were dark, sweet, and juicy. I must make a note in my 5-year planner to pick mid-July. A few cherries had been nibbled by the birds, but there were still plenty for all of us.

Mike and I left the farm on Monday (July 14) and returned Thursday (July 17). The change in the spring wheat was amazing in just those three days. It’s ripening rapidly now. KW 

PASSINGS

Can you believe it’s mid-July already? Wasn’t it just the Fourth? Now it’s time to get ready for Halloween. (I’m not kidding!)

It just does no good to grieve the passing of what we once valued, whether it’s a loved one, a loved retailer, a season, or just a change in life’s routine. I guess every passing constitutes a change in life’s routine. In the end, life isn’t about what we want. Sometimes we must just accept and move on, and that's the way we grow our characters. 

I speak at this time about JoAnn Fabrics, the passing of which is the end of an era. My store was located next to Albertsons, so I could just pop in before I shopped for groceries. Honestly, I miss it. 

Also passing at this time are the "Big Four" paper pattern companies -- Simplicity, McCall, Butterick, and Vogue, and they say this is related to the demise of JoAnn. My mother made most of my clothes as I grew up, and I loved watching for new styles and new patterns. It's hard to realize it was so long ago and that things could change so much. As an adult, I lost interest in sewing for myself, but I do love craft patterns -- dolls, doll clothes, stuffed animals, etc.

As if on cue with the passing of JoAnn, Hobby Lobby opened a store here in the former Penney’s location. It seems huge – a well-lit, inviting store with lots of junky bric-a-brac as well as housewares, hobby supplies, and home dec. On my first and only visit so far, all of the employees were outgoing and friendly. A saxophone rendition of the old hymn, “Trust and Obey,” played in the background.

I found just one aisle of yarn, all of it Hobby Lobby’s own brand, “Yarn Bee,” made in Turkey of American fibers. How does that work? I bought one skein to make a doll sweater. I’m on a fabric diet, so I didn’t enter the fabric department, but it doesn’t come near to replacing the volume of JoAnn’s stock, even at our small store. My shopping companion was happy to have found some acrylic paint in a color she wanted.

I predict that I won’t visit Hobby Lobby much. It just isn’t located on my regular route and – well, its offerings are way more diverse than JoAnn’s. The fabric / yarn inspiration isn’t there, and I don’t need the junk. But the community needs this shopping option, and I wish Hobby Lobby well. KW

MORE EXCESSIVE HEAT

 

Spring wheat ripens in the heat

Activities out of our town base beckon, but Mike and I hastened to the farm on Saturday (July 12) with our main goal to water the raised beds. Mike attached another long hose to the cistern, which makes it easier and quicker to water the orchard with its trees and meadow plants.

Strawberry plants with their nannies

The raised bed plants were indeed glad to see me. “Arrgh! Water us,” they screamed. The tomatoes fared better than the summer squash. And even though we plant drought-tolerant perennials in our orchard meadow, I have found that most all plants do better with some water. I get no help from nature. It doesn’t rain.

Bess went through something that had us worried. We think she got stung in her mouth. She drooled, resisted eating and drinking, and was somewhat lethargic, though she did want her regular walks and to play fetch. She’s better now, but with our next farm stay, we will set up the wasp traps.

The hummingbirds were pleased to have the feeders refilled. One sat on the feeder cap this morning, waiting for me to rehang the feeder.

Good morning, Kathy

Saturday, I picked two or three cups of cherries from the Lapins tree. These were sweeter than those picked last week and a deep maroon in color. We probably did pick a little too soon, but sometimes we just have to strike a balance between ripeness and the interest of the birds. A quail flew out of the tree as I approached, and I noticed a number of pecked cherries and dropped pits.

Mike reported that he saw a herd of about 20 elk on his bike ride this morning. That’s a rare sight. And he saw some wild turkeys and deer. We see a lot of deer this year. And I saw a snake on the cistern. It was right there – and then it was gone. From my description, Mike said it was likely a bull snake.

The high was 94 at the farm yesterday afternoon. It was still 80 at 10:00 p.m. and 72 at 6:00 this morning. And now we’re back in town where it’s 100 and will likely gain a few more degrees before the afternoon is over. KW

A summer morning

ANOTHER COLD JULY 4TH

The north side of the house and grounds

Son Yancey and his three (mostly) adult children arrived the evening of the Fourth, chauffeured to the farm from the Spokane airport by son Murray. Son Clinton joined us Saturday. It was a houseful for us, and we loved every minute.

After some unseasonably hot days – two of them “excessively” so – we were plunged into unseasonably low temps on the 4^th and 5^th. Oh well. It was at least conducive to baking, and bake I did – cookies, pecan bars, lemon bars, and lasagna. Rain was also in the forecast, but it didn’t happen here. And then it was excessively hot again for a few days.

As it happened, the cherries on the Lapins tree were ripe enough to pick, so I enlisted the help of our visitors. Mike suggested I instruct them to pick only the ripest cherries, but I chose to simply cull out the undesirables. I have eight quart bags of pitted cherries in the freezer now. The Lapins sweet cherries aren’t as flavorful as Bings, nor do they take the place of pie cherries, but we enjoy them. I suspect the birds are now pecking the tree clean.

On Sunday, Clint organized a 4-hour tubing float trip for Yancey and family on the Clearwater River between Greer and Orofino. It was granddaughter Emmy’s 17^th birthday, so I baked a cake and Mike made ice cream.

Monday morning, Yancey and family left as soon as they were up and around, again chauffeured by Murray to the Spokane airport by way of Waffles & More in Lewiston, a favorite of Emmy’s. They invited Mike and me, but we can’t just leave. We had chores – pitting cherries, watering plants, packing for town – and a bike ride for Mike.

The hummer population increased to at least eight. Visitors always enjoy watching them squabble over the feeders.

My raised beds seem to be thriving. I’m guardedly cautious in my hope for good tomatoes and summer squash. Gardening is a gamble as far as I’m concerned, and I wonder if the fluctuation in temperature is really conducive to a good harvest. I water twice on a hot day. If the cistern runs dry, I’ll just have to use well water. After all, we paid for it long ago.

Black raspberry bushes 

Some weeks back, Nick called our attention to black raspberry bushes on the perimeter of the north field, but we probably  won't pick them. Country berry bushes can be deceptive. They seem to be “right there,” while in fact, they are inaccessible. Once you’re over the bank and in the weeds, you can’t see what’s under foot, and often it’s nothing much. Falling in order to grab a few berries is unacceptable, however much we’d like to have the berries.

The house is so quiet after visitors leave. It was wonderful to have them with us, but we all have things to do. KW

From the western edge of the north field

A MORNING HIKE

 

“Grab the camera,” said Mike. “We’re going on a hike.” Yes, he’s a little insistent about it because he knows I hike better in the morning than in the heat of the afternoon sun.

For the most part, these photos were taken last week (June 25), and I’m sorry I didn’t post them sooner. These things happen.

So, we headed off around the pond and down the gulley that the old family called “Stove Creek.”

“Look at the big deer,” I said. “That’s an elk,” Mike corrected, as the cow looked back at us from the other side of Stove Creek. She seemed to be alone and was as curious about us as we were about her. We don’t see many elk. Maybe we just aren’t watching at the right time.

On around the perimeter of the field we went. I love these views of the old farm yard before it disappears behind the hills again. 

My grandfather, Jack Dobson, taken by his son Earle

I can just imagine the changing views as the farmer works the fields, especially in the old days when the machinery didn’t move so fast. Was he happy? Did he enjoy the work, or did he wish he could go faster and finish sooner? Did they look forward to the noon break and the big dinner prepared by the wife? And I can also imagine watching from the house as the field work was slowly accomplished. KW 

Mike walking along the canyon rim