The Silent Forest

 

The "Silent Forest" in the Deschutes National Park, Oregon

 

No peep, tweet, or squeak

Nary a flutter, nor footfall

No rustlings or mutterings

No wind, breeze, or dust devil

No animals, birds, bees, butterflies, or "buzz" a'tall

Utter deep silence

No comings, goings, echoes, or sounds...but my own...

 

* * * * *

 

    Last week I had occasion to drive from North Idaho to California for a family reunion and memorial. Cousins from Hawaii and Texas met in Cottonwood, California where my brother lives. My stepmom joined us from nearby Redding. 

    We had a wonderful time reuniting, then caravaning to Chester for the memorial. 

    As my drive to California would take me through Oregon on Hwy 97, I decided to load the car such that I could enjoy a couple of days camping on my way to Cottonwood prior to the family gathering.

    My first day's drive brought me to the Deschutes National Forest in the La Pine region.

    It was late and I had no reservation for a campground so I simply drove deep into the forest on a narrow, dusty dirt road and found a small clearing in the woods big enough to back my Jeep into.

    Camping in undeveloped and undeclared camping areas is called "dispersed" camping or "boondocking". There's no fee. There are no improvements such as picnic tables, pit toilets, showers, or running water. And, it's allowed in most National Forests and Bureau of Land Managed areas (excluding National Monuments, of course).

    The next day, I thought I'd go explore the Lava River Cave - a lava tube that takes about 1-1/2 hours to traverse before looking for another campsite - this one in the Prairie campground off of Pauline Road nearer to the town of La Pine.

    My dispersed campsite was remarkable because other than trees and shrubs there were no signs of life! Very unusual and even a bit eerie.

 

     Someone had camped here previously and built a fire ring.

 

    Backing my car in so that it faced the narrow, dusty road in case I needed to make a quick exit for some reason, I set up a minimal camp. I moved a cut section of log into the existing fire ring so I could set my camp stove on it. A painted heart visible on one side of the log section seemed a good omen.

 

An omen? Someone had painted a heart onto the section of log I set into the fire ring to elevate my camp stove

.

    Fire danger was listed as "extreme" in this area and smoke from wildfires was heavy in the air. Should my stove fall over, I wanted to be sure it was contained by the fire ring. As dry pine needles littered the area and I had nothing to rake them aside with, I took this extra precaution.

    This forest was tinder-dry and the slightest spark could ignite the area...so I would not light a campfire for this evening.

 

As the shadows were already lengthening into evening I opened a can of roasted chicken soup packed for a quick dinner. No insects meant I didn't need the bug spray in the lower right corner of the photo.

 

    The night spent sleeping in my Jeep was uneventful...and quiet. A full moon lit the smokey forest in silver.

    The following morning upon awaking, silence still reigned in the forest. A few drops of rain teased but quickly ceased.

    I thought of the book by Rachel Carson, "Silent Spring" where silence prevails because wild creatures are extinct. Perhaps, the beings of the woods sensed fire was coming to the area and had already fled?

    I had googled "forest fires nearby" and learned that two fires were burning in the Deschutes National Forest. Near, but not near enough to my location to cause worry. One was 20 miles away from La Pine.

    After packing up my Jeep, I headed to the Lava River Cave. It was closed...perhaps due to the fires? There was no sign on the gate to indicate cause of closure. No one showed up at opening time or afterward to open the gate so I headed into La Pine for gasoline then out towards Pauline Road to locate my next campsite at the Prairie campground with such luxuries as a picnic table, a barbeque pit, and a wee pit toilet. Ahhh...the concept of luxury is, indeed, relative!

 

With the rear passenger seats folded down, I have space for a comfy, cushy bed in the back of my 1998 Jeep Grand Cherokee Laredo. It's safe from rain and critters. I feel secure locked inside my car. 

 

    In my next post I'll share my "squirrelly" adventures at the Prairie Campground.

    Here's a hint...

 

In the bag! And...everywhere else, too!