For many years (due to my teaching schedule), summer didn’t begin until the second week in June. While that constraint came off when we retired, this week’s heatwave really felt like the start of summer.
There were a string of eighty degree days this week, matched with a dozen small wildfires. It feels like summer (our new norm).
A few things shift for us when the weather warms up.
Primarily our schedule . . . early starts to the day and early ends. This practice has two advantages; first it gets the active part of our day away from the heat, but it also tends to keep us away from the hordes.
About the time people start showing up on the river, we’ve had a choice of parking spots, a couple of hours of fishing, and lots of peace and quiet.
That is how we managed this week’s trip to the Crooked River.
Most of the spring wildflowers have been reduced to leafy stems, replaced with hardier summer varieties.
Lupine for example, is in full bloom on nearly every gravelly borrow pit. It lines our route with a carpet of purple and blue hues.
Fishing was better this week. The river has settled into its summer flow and fish are taking up their usual holds.
The kestrels were in full hunt mode, stopping only long enough to drop off some tasty bits for the fledglings, before swooping back up the canyon walls.
By the time the breeze was starting to loosen it’s cooling power, a small group of picnickers set up a few hundred feet from us. That was our cue to load up and head for home.
Daytime temp, even on the river, was just over eighty and climbing. We’ll be back again during the cool of another morning.