I Got Stung Here Once
By Dwip October 11, 2014, 8:57 pm Comments (0) RSS Feed for this post

This is the latest in a now fairly long line of things I want to show you in Oregon, brought about by the arrival of a loaned camera of a rather newer vintage than my 5 year old Canon. I’ll talk more about that in another post.

Alsea Falls is, if not literally down the road from where I grew up, not all that far away. Consequently, I was here many, many times in the 80s and early 90s, but it’s probably been 15 or 20 years since I’ve been back. Dumb, considering how close I lived to it, but there you go.

Alsea Falls is on BLM land, which means it’s traversed by these unlabeled and moderately kept up roads through miles and miles of forest. This is one of the straighter patches – we’re fairly deep into the foothills of the Coast range here, and it gets pretty winding.

Fast forwarding a bit, we’re just above the actual falls here, looking at a bridge leading across the river to a fairly lengthy trail on the other side. We’ll have a peek down there later.

This is looking over the upper set of falls from on the bridge itself.

And this is looking sort of back the other way from same bridge.

This is a little bit further down the trail, looking down at the area just below the falls. You can’t see it, but I’m on a switchback in the trail that will momentarily lead me down there.

This is the foot of the trail below the falls, looking at some nice stone steps leading up to a less nice concrete retaining wall on the switchback I was just talking about.

And this is Alsea Falls. I don’t know as I can really add anything to the whole majesty of nature thing going on here, so instead, here’s a story that explains the title of this post:

So, once upon a time when I was a young boy, I was a Cub Scout. And, as you might expect from Cub Scouts, we oft times took trips as a group to go Experience Nature. And so it was we went to Alsea Falls this one time. And I, as I loved to do, went frolicing in the river there. And made it right about to that second level there when I got stung right above the eye by a yellowjacket or something. Whereupon I cried a lot and face swelled up and I went home and that’s kind of my enduring memory of this place.

Now you know.

And in recompense for the image of getting stung by yellowjackets I have just implanted in your brain, please wash it away with this nice closeup of the falls. It really is a pleasant sort of place to visit, and really there was only ever that one time.

This bizzarely angled selfie brought to you by the peculiar contours of the rock I perched my camera on to try and get it. I try for you, readers. I try.

Going back across that bridge and down the trail a ways, this is sort of representative of the whole thing – dirt trail, the odd bit of stairs, and the occasional fallen tree where somebody came along and chainsawed a trail-sized chunk for hikers to go through. It’s kind of neat.

This is just a really neat super eroded stairway leading down to the river. I have a bunch of pictures of this sort of stuff, but I’m choosing to spare you most of them.

This is another way smaller little waterfall near those stairs I just showed you. Not much here, but I liked the picture opportunity. Framing, yay.

This is the view opposite that little waterfall. Majesty of nature, etc.

I kept going down the trail for a while, and eventually it turned from bare dirt into dirt covered by fallen leaves. I assume Riften is just around the corner.

This is me testing out the macro settings on the camera. I’d say they work just about as advertised, don’t you?

The other end of this trail ends up in a campground, of which this is one of the campsites, sitting all forlorn and empty.

And then I walked all the way back.


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