Wilkommen!

We spent two solid days in Iceland, and I've only posted about one, but we've already been in Germany for over a week. With a once-weekly post schedule, I'll get way  behind pretty fast if I give you all the details instead of the highlights.

Here's my solution: highlights now, details later, when my life is a little less interesting, and I have a real keyboard.

Welcome to Germany! We stayed with The Girl's cousin for the first two days. He showed us Erbach, Michelstadt, and he happens to be a hobby pilot, so we GOT TO GO UP IN HIS PLANE AND I TOTALLY FLEW IT!!

Erbach Castle was home to a local duke. When it was built, they incorporated this tower of the old fortress. 

I didn't crash or anything! He said I was a natural! ...he may have been being polite.

don't worry: he had the controls when I took pictures.

The old town hall of Michelstadt (back side)

Decorative tile on Elefanthaus.

Sunday night we moved to her aunt's place for a few days. They live in a little village in the countryside, surrounded by fields. The house is right at the edge of one of those fields, and I spent a lot of time during our visit watching a hawk who patrolled that field.

The fields are owned and worked by farmers, but they allow people to walk along the paths between them. The Girl and I spent a lazy afternoon wandering along those paths, passing through small wooded sections, and walking through another nearby village. From one of the numerous hunting platforms, I spotted a fox, but my zoom lens was insufficient to the task.

Germany needs more predators. This mouse has zero fight-or-flight response.

A quaint German country village, with towering crane and a Thunderdome.

That afternoon, we visited an old Roman watchtower.  It has been rebuilt near its original site along the ancient Roman limes (an earthen battlement stretching across Europe).

A cluster of chainsaw carvings stands guard outside the tower.

Many more German adventures await, but that's all I have time to report tonight!

Hot springs and cool falls

We'd been planning a trip that was half Honeymoon, Part Two, and half Visiting German Family Who Couldn't Attend the Wedding. Well. I say "we" planned it, but I really wasn't much help. I'll give credit where it's due. My contribution was arranging a meeting with a friend from the Appalachian Trail.

She opted to fly Iceland Air. Price was a big consideration, but it helped a great deal that they offer a free stopover in Iceland for up to five days. We landed early on a Tuesday morning, and left early on Thursday. Given how jet-lagged we were, we accomplished an awful lot, even if it was all on a short portion of the southern coast.

We started at Hveragerdi, home to Reykjadalur (Steam Valley). Reykjadalur is an area of geothermal activity; it is probablyou best known for an area where a very hot river meets a cold river. People travel from all over to soak in the warm pools.

Getting to the soaking area requires a 3.5 km walk, and a bit of climbing.

Bubbling mud pots are scattered along the valley.

One of the colorful hot springs. They're beautiful, but the steam pouring out of them reeks of sulfur.

Note the steam rising from the river. Granted, the air was a little cool that morning, but this river would steam on a warm day, too.

Right beside the river, boiling water bubbles out of the ground.

Too hot... too cold... just right! (not my feet)

The Girl was really excited about this spot. I was, too, but my interest was geological, whereas she tried to convince me to let her cook in the river for another six hours, leaving us just enough time to check in to our hostel. Outside the water, the air was getting colder, and the wind got stronger.

We returned to the parking lot in time for a simple lunch, and drove to Seljalandsfoss. If you want The Girl to leave a hot spring, offer her a waterfall.

The drop is about 200 feet. This cliff had been the shoreline of Iceland until a later lava flow (ages ago) pushed back the ocean.

If you are very lucky, the sun breaks through, and you get to see a rainbow in the mist!

A trail goes all the way behind the waterfall. It's not as wet as I'd expected, but it's still worth wearing a rain shell.

Another nearby waterfall comes down between the cliff and a massive boulder, so if you want to see it, you have two options: go through a passage in the rock (with the stream), or go over the boulder. We did both.

Looking up the falls.

View from the top of the boulder.

Between Seljalandsfoss and our hostel lies Skogafoss, another very large waterfall over the cliff that used to be the coast. Skogafoss is fed by glacier melt, and marks the start of a well-known trail leading between the two glaciers that feed it.

Skogafoss has eroded a notch in the cliff.

The river, though 30 feet wide at the top, is only a couple inches deep. Stairs lead visitors to the top for an overhead view of the falls.

Tiny alpine blooms cling to a rock overlooking Skogafoss.

We stayed at a hostel in Vik that night, in a room with a view of the ocean, and slept like exhausted Viking babies.

Meowvelous

(Some of these post titles make me think I should probably get professional help.)

We've reached a point where glassblowing could be a regular feature here; we've also reached a point where I've told you how most of the process works... at least, the parts I understand well enough to explain. Do not, under any circumstances, use this blog as your only resource before trying this at home*.

This visit to the glass studio happened shortly before Easter, so a lot of what we produced were Easter egg-shaped paper weights. We also tried a couple paper weights with cherry blossoms inside, because cherry blossoms are a pretty big deal in the DC area, and some glass cats, because our talented hostess felt like making some cats, and we really wanted to see how that would work.

One of her earlier glass cats. She didn't like how the tail looked like a handle on a coffee mug, so the tails on our set of cats laid flat against the body.

Paper weights are solid glass, so we didn't need to do any actual blowing when we made those (and when I say "we made those," I mean that we watched her make them, and made occasional suggestions on color schemes.  There was very little for us to do for the bulk of the process, but that meant I got to take lots of pictures.).  Instead, a small amount of clear glass is gathered on a solid rod.  That gather is heated in the glory hole, and smoothed into a preliminary shape using one of many wooden forms.  Then, fret is added to provide color.  Sometimes two or three colors would be added, sometimes just one, depending on the design she made. Another trip to the glory hole helps melt the fret, more clear glass is gathered outside, and another round of heat and forming finishes the piece.  Finally, just like the pumpkins and Christmas ornaments, they spend a night cooling very slowly in the annealer.

The last stage of forming for a paper weight with a bloom design inside.

This one was done a little differently: instead of simply dipping the first gather in fret, she did a "wrap," giving it a spiral look.  A rough explanation of the process is included here.

She first made the cats based on a challenge issued by a friend.  I showed you one of the early versions above; this batch was done a little differently, because she's still honing the process.  The pictures below show different stages of several cats, so don't worry if it seems like each step looks nothing like the previous shot.  Chances are, it really isn't.

Gathering broken pieces of glass to make a "galaxy cat."  This isn't fret; it's recycling.  She had made an earlier piece in "galaxy" colors (blue, green, purple) which cracked, so we smashed it with a hammer and used the broken chunks to add color to a new piece.

The same piece, after melting and smoothing in the galaxy shards.

An air bubble is blown into the cat's body to make it larger.  In most of the cats, the air bubble is confined to the body, but here you can see it's in the head as well.  That makes it a unique piece!  She uses those enormous tweezers to pinch a neck and stretch the body to make the shape more like a cat, and less like an incandescent Bubble-Yum bubble.

Pinching out some ears.

Applying a tail to a cat. We used the same color for all of the cat tails.  If it's exposed to air as it cools (as opposed to being encased in more glass), it oxidizes and turns silver.  First, it has to stop glowing.

After the tail is cut.

 The cherry blossom paper weights were pretty interesting; I liked seeing how carefully layering color and simple changes to the shape resulted in the detailed blooms inside the final products.

Color has already been added to this gather. Green at the base (closest to the bar), pink in the middle, and white at the top (closest to the camera).  Here, she's used the handle of those tweezers to flatten the top surface, and is now smoothing the sides.

A straight-edged tool is used to make two creases, perpendicular to each other, in the top of the bloom.  This is what gives the finished piece four petals. (even though real cherry blossoms have five petals)

It's starting to look like a flower!

A wooden form is used to shape the bloom.  She keeps a bucket of these forms by the bench, soaking in water.  We still sometimes smell burning wood.

The hole made here will leave an air bubble in the final piece.  It will still look like a flower; just a different kind.

Forming the final gather. Note the egg shape.

* Do not try this at home, or anywhere else, unless accompanied and directed by someone who actually knows what they're doing, or has a really, really good lawyer.

The Honeymooners, Day Three

I admit it: by our third morning in Bend, we were getting a little tired.  In our defense, between last-minute planning, driving to Ohio, the wedding, the reception, the flight, the hiking, and the skiing, we'd been going non-stop for over a week by then, and a lot of that was pretty big-deal stuff.

So we had a slow morning.

This bugs me. Because I don't have a garden where I can do stuff like this.

I took a few pictures of our rental, and wandered up Awbrey Butte a little way, looking at houses and watching the mule deer grazing in yards.

I also want to get a bunch of busted spigots so I can put these flowers somewhere.  There were a LOT of them in this yard.

People have great yard art in Bend, and there are certain themes to the architecture that I really like.  I even took pictures of houses, collecting ideas in case I can ever afford to build a place exactly as I want.  You know... on that mountain I want to buy.

shhh... there's a bear!

I had to kill a little time, because we had made plans to meet my dad's cousin again, this time for lunch at a little cafe on the north side of town called McKay's Cottage.  Somehow, I'd never visited it when I lived in Bend.  The Girl got a Smith Rock Benedict, because we were heading to Smith that afternoon, and she loves hollandaise sauce.  She also loves avocado, and they were nice enough to add some for her.  I got... I don't remember what they called it, but there were layers of pulled chicken, spicy sauce/salsa,eggs, hollandaise, crispy corn tortillas that somehow stayed crispy despite all the eggs and sauces, and it was permeated throughout with deliciousness.  I don't remember anything we talked about over breakfast.  I just remember wanting to find a room where my breakfast and I could spend some very special Alone Time.  It was outstanding.

There's a party in my mouth, and NOBODY ELSE IS INVITED!!

We took another little tour of downtown (I love Bend's downtown), mainly because we were trying to find gifts for people.  We never did, but we had a good time anyway.

Solid marketing.

It's not just yard art; there's lots of art on public walls in Bend, too.  More even than when I lived there.  We saw brand-new murals in alleys, new sculptures, and a few new businesses.  My town is doing really well, and it made me happy to see all the improvements.

"Ghost town Richmond, Smith Rock"

Words to live by.

Looking across Mirror Pond.

That afternoon, we drove to Terrebonne and Smith Rock.  Smith is one of our favorite places in Oregon.  That means even more coming from The Girl, who often doesn't consider a hike worthwhile unless there are waterfalls.  She was really excited to go back to Smith.  We both fell into a familiar pattern: see something amazing, take a picture, take two steps, take a nearly-identical picture.  I ended up making a conscious effort to take fewer pictures, and just try to enjoy the visit directly.  I still took a lot of pictures.  It's a beautiful place.

Asterisk Pass

Looking toward Gray Butte (left side, horizon) and the Burma Road (right side) from the Misery Ridge Trail.  Don't let the name fool you.  Misery Ridge is a hoot.

On one of my earliest visits to Smith Rock, The Girl called me from Virginia and asked me what it was like.  I remember giving her a very heartfelt speech about how amazing it was; that it looked like barren, rocky desert if you glanced at it, but if you took even a moment longer to study the surroundings, you saw that you were surrounded with color and life.  The rocks had rich, warm hues, and cooler shades of blue.  The grayish scrub concealed colorful blooms, and the cracks in the rocks were packed with tiny, struggling life and vibrant flowers.  I loved it.  I still do.

A climber uses aiders to ascend Monkey Face, a tower of tuff (rock made of compressed volcanic ash).

Cascades panorama, from Broken Top to Black Butte.

Monkey Face (and The Girl) from inside a hollow boulder along the trail.  Uncountable visitors have worn the inside of the boulder so smooth that it's hard to sit still inside.

Me, in the boulder (photo credit: The Girl)

Coming down from the top, in the shadow of Monkey Face.

I love flora in harsh climates, like deserts and alpine areas.  I know they're fragile, but I can't help but marvel at how tough they must be to survive at all in such conditions.

Monkey Face.  The name makes more sense from this angle.

Another effort in my continuing search for the perfect action shot of a bee.

Yellowbell

budding sagebrush

Smith was formed by the same volcanic system that later subducted under another plate, moved east, and formed Yellowstone.  The formations that remain near Terrebonne are all that remains of the caldera of a supervolcano.  Later eruptions from Newberry Crater, south of Bend, send enormous lava flows north.  These flows formed the basalt cliffs along the Deschutes and Crooked Rivers.  Smith's parking lot is at the top of these cliffs.  The same flows redirected the Crooked River itself, pushing it toward Smith Rock, where it eroded the existing tuff before settling into its current path.  The geology of the area fascinates me.

Crooked River.  My brother, Dad, and I once saw a group of otters playing very near this spot.

That night we met Nahid for dinner at Deschutes Brewery.  The Girl ordered a taster flight (we were careful to select beers we couldn't get back east) to go with dinner.  I got a burger with bleu cheese, and thus concluded that every burger should have bleu cheese on it.

There oughta be a law.

Libation!

That was our last full day in Bend.  The next morning, we got up early, grabbed a quick breakfast (and a sandwich for later) at La Magie, and drove back to Portland.  We both agreed that the only disappointment of our trip was that we didn't get to eat all the things we wanted to eat while in town.  We also agreed that if La Magie was our only option for food on that trip, we still would have been very happy.