5 53 pm pdt   [ lakes ]

We finished shooting early this morning, and finding ourselves with a half-dozen hours before the next shot we needed to get, we set off for some good nature scenes. Tita was insisting that the clouds were going to clear, but the stretched to every horizon, so rather than arguing, I suggested we go to Crater Lake. My companions suggested it would take an hour and a half each way, but I knew it would be more. No matter; we set out. We cheered when we crossed the Oregon border, but once we pulled off the 5, though it was gorgeous, it took forever to get the lake. We stopped once to get shots of the trees, and I laid down completely on the road and to take this shot:

As we neared the lake, we were surprised by how much snow we encountered. When we paid our $10 entrance fee, the smiley ranger told us most of the road wasn't plowed, so we could just drive up to the rim, but not around. We made our way up, and stopped where all the cars were, scouting the location. I took some pictures, but they do no justice to the majesty of the lake:

Once we were back in the car, John, who was driving, went past the blockade, and parked in a handicap spot. "This is very bad," I said, but he just made a face and did it. We walked out to the rim -- he in sandals on the snow -- and I snapped some shots before I went back to grab the equipment.

By the time I returned to the car to help carry, some park employee had told John to move the car, so John pulled just in front of the barricade, and again attempted to unload. Then a second employee came up to tell us we couldn't even walk past the barricade to shoot. For reasons unbenownst to me, John, who is normally exceptionally calm and quiet, lost his temper and becan shouting at the guy. Tita joined in. It was horrible. I tried to break in, but all I managed was, "Could you do us a huge favor and --" The guy was immediately defensive from the yelling, and I was frustrated, because I know I could have talked him into it. I have never seen a situation handled so poorly.

We ended up finding a great location driving the other way. That is where I wrote in the snow for the titles of this entry. We got a good amount of sun before a snow storm rolled in. We drove out under falling flakes.

Coming out of the National Park, we entered the only town we'd seen since turning off the 5: Fort Klamath. Tita and I talked John into the adventure of eating at the Cattle Crossing Cafe:

The food was delicious and they branded their burgers, which I thought was absolutely darling!

We were going to take a direct route back to Weed via Klamath Falls, so we set out on the 66 which turned into the 97. Along the glorious Upper Klamath Lake, Tita requested a water shot, and John took off up a road that said "Closed to Commercial Traffic." Are passenger cars considered commercial traffic?

It was a good decision, for we found a great location which a magnificent view of Upper Klamath Lake:

Way on the left you can see the road we had been on.

There were immediate signs of boys: broken glass, cigarette butts, and empty shells [ie. for guns]. Once the camera was set up, I took off exploring, and immediately spotted a torquise cross tucked in low to the ground. I wonder what the story is behind that.

Further exploring uncovered a t-shirt, pizza box, ancient beer cans, a headligh, a book, and a shoe:

Shortly thereafter I found three photos, one of which was of somebody's wedding:

I suspected there were no falls in Klamath Falls, and my suspicion was confirmed at a local gas station. We passed a restaurant called the Dysfunction Junction in Dorris. We pressed on to Weed until another glorious shot presented itself. The clouds we stunning, and I liked the view from where we pulled off the road, but John wanted to backtrack and try to travel up the closest mountain. When we pulled off to the dirt road he had spotted, we were met with a gate. "Is it locked?" John asked. "It's priovate property," I answered. He shrugged, hopped out of the car, opened the gate, and drove through.

"We have to close the gate," I announced, when it was clear that he didn't intend to. "He made an exasperated face so I explained, "What if they are trying to keep in cows, or horses?" He closed the gate.

While John shot, I inspected the wildflowers.

When I finally turned around to see what he was shooting, I spotted a strange mountain that fascinated me:

Getting back down from that rocky dirt road was a bit of an adventure, and then we were on the road to Weed again.

[I took 170 shots that I liked today and I wish I could have included them all...]

* * *

two years ago today: "My computer died a firey death yesterday -- well, there was no fire... But, unfortunately, my computer has officially bit the dust."

one year ago today: "It hasn't in any shape or form hit me that I am done with my 16 years of school."

May 1998
May 1999
May 2000

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