My Kind of Travel
{ Travel }
April 4, 2008
Mr. Pencil and I are heading out this afternoon on a weekend trip typical of us: a rambling, informal Oregon-exploratory thing that usually leaves us dusty and informed.
We’re headed to Condon, a small and mostly forgotten town in the midst of the Oregon wheat hill country. That is to say: about 2.5 hours east of here. We’re going to stay in the old brick hotel and foray out to the John Day Fossil Beds, mystery hot springs, mountain ridges.
I’ve got my earplugs*, journal, books, and camera gear packed.
* My cardinal rule of travel is to go nowhere without earplugs. They are what make travel sane and possible.
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In your random bit of trivia for the day, if you come into Condon from the north by going south from Arlington, you’ll follow an old railroad line. The line is still in use as far as Gilliam, where there’s a monster-sized landfill which serves as the receptacle for a whole lot of garbage from the Puget Sound and Portland areas.
And now you know.
That sounds lovely! I love the fossil beds.