A Quest for Beauty in Northeastern Oregon

Tucked away in the northeast corner of Oregon is a fairytale place of lush green rolling hills, quaint old barns and pioneer-era homes, sparkling blue lakes and thundering rivers, snow-capped mountains towering against the blue skies of summer, and, of course, wildlife everywhere.  The kind, gracious, and authentic locals also have a way of making the trip even more memorable.  Understandably, this picturesque place is also often referred to as "America's Little Switzerland."  Covering thousands of square miles, it includes both the Eagle Cap Wilderness and the Wallowa-Whitman National Forest.  It's indeed a landscape that will take your breath away.


My first visits to the enchanting Wallowas (pronounced Wul-OW-wuhs) occurred in the capacity of a state employee.  Now, I seldom visit for business purposes, but we love to vacation there as a family.  (This latest trip also served as research for my mystery novel.)  Having the opportunity to stay there last week (without television, cell phone coverage, wi-fi, etc.) was a powerful reminder of the craving I have for beauty as well as meaningful connection with family--as well as the land itself.

Let's face it, as a kid raised in the beauty of the Pacific Northwest, I probably get on people's nerves when I visit other places in the country.  "Where's the green?" or "Why is everything brown and flat?"  I ask myself these questions (a little louder perhaps than intended).  In short, I am probably very spoiled when it comes to scenic beauty; it's hard to beat Washington, Oregon, and California.  From our home in the Willamette Valley, for instance, we're an hour from the Pacific Ocean and lush forests to the west, and another hour or two away from the mountains and high desert to the east.  Crater Lake and the northern Redwoods lie to the south, as well.

When it comes to the Wallowas, though, it's more than just the place.  Off the beaten path as they are, the people are indeed a unique and close-knit group.  I recall, for instance, trying without success to salvage horrible Google Map directions to a friend's home in Lostine, Oregon.  When it looked like we were going to be late, I finally pulled over and spoke to a postal carrier in nearby Enterprise, Oregon.  Her first question was who was I visiting--not where.  I gave her the name, and she instantly recognized the person, providing the directions we badly needed.

Of course, if you annoy the locals, you may find yourself taking the longest "short cut" you can imagine.  One local confided that a sweet old lady she knew had finally lost patience with an out-of-towner bearing a laundry list of complaints: the mountains weren't that special, the weather was too hot, there were no stores in which she cared to stop, etc.  Having finally had enough, the old woman carefully gave the complaining visitor detailed instructions to Hwy 3 out of Enterprise to Lewiston/Clarkston.  She explained that this route might offer her exactly what she was seeking.  Now, as someone who accidentally took this frightening little stretch of asphalt (again, thanks go to Google Maps) back in 2007, I can understand the humor here.  Still, I have to say I feel a little sorry for the complainer, too.  

Imagine a narrow road weaving steeply towards the hilltops, and you have some inkling of the drive.  There was beauty, too, of course: wild deer and a huge owl to name a couple examples.  As I recall, when the road began to feel more like a paved walking trail, I remember my wife asking me to drive slower and slower until we were inching along at less than 20 mph.  When I expressed concern about traffic, she insightfully pointed out that no one else was stupid enough to take that particular road.  Enough said.

There was also a remarkably astute local when it came to discerning a good book from a bad one.  Walking into one business in Joseph, Oregon, we noticed a local shaking her head as she read The Shack.  When questioned a bit, she admitted that her teachers had always taught her to finish those books she started...but this was her second attempt at reading it.  Besides sensing something wrong with the theology, she said that the place names in the book didn't match the descriptions.  It was like the author had just used a map to write the book, she said.  I kept my mouth shut (mostly), but I was excited to learn yet another reason to thoroughly dislike this poor little excuse for a book--but I digress.

At any rate, that is a little snapshot of our vacation.  In short, it was wonderful to visit a place where shocking beauty and majesty come at you from all sides.  I hope that you can make it there yourself some day.  From fishing, hiking, horse-riding, general exploring, photography, and riding the tram to the lofty top of Mt. Howard, this area really does have it all.  It's a great place in which to be reminded of the beauty and power of God's creation.

In the meantime, if I should happen to pay you a visit in the midwest or southern United States, and you wonder why I am looking a bit glum, it's just because I'm spoiled; I live in Oregon, you see.  This being the case, I hope you will have patience with this west-coaster.  Perhaps if you come to our neck of the woods, it will make more sense...




Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.
Philippians 4:8




Update: Please check-out my new calendar featuring my Wallowa photography!

The Really, Really Last Post for a While...

You know that feeling when you can't leave the house for a trip until you re-check the stove and coffee maker?  No?  Well, anyway, this kind of falls into that category.  I couldn't abandon my little venture for days and days without sharing some very exciting news.  


If all goes according to plan, this blog will soon feature a special actor/director/writer interview.  Depending on the mystery guest's schedule, it will likely appear in late July or early August. 

If all goes well, the hope is to interview a well known figure every month, or so.  With several notable exceptions, I'll be trying to steer clear of writers, as I have a friend with the Catholic Writer's Guild who already does a fine job on those.  


We'll also likely have a book giveaway (possibly one Tristan's Travels plus a title associated with one of the guest's current projects). Giveaway will be open to those following my blog--and, for practicality purposes, only if there are new followers between now and the time of the interview.  Also, it's not open to family or immediate friends, I'm afraid.  More details coming in July.  So, please tell your friends to stop by, "follow," and enjoy.  (I hope.) 

In the meantime, please go have a terrific summer.  Happy 4th!  Now, I'm really leaving...

Spirtual Fidelity & Father Corapi

The other day I wrote an open letter to Father Corapi, which prompted some interesting feedback.  I thought it might be interesting to share an example of some of the strange and incoherent responses my blog has elicited.


"do you recall the gospel, when our lord asked god, 2 take this cup from him, and then he said your will not mine, fr.corapi, is obeying the will of god !!!!!! do you also recall,when our lord said, father forgive them for they know not what they do !!! fr.corapi is doing the same. a lamb 2 the slaughter !!!! and if it was not for ewtn,i would have never heard or seen father."


There's obviously a lot of confusion in this person's mind.  Sometimes in situations like this, the best approach is to simplify or distill the central elements of the discussion in such a way that perhaps it will help readers see it in a new light.  That being the case, let's explore a hypothetical scenario, for example.


Let's say that a married friend comes to you for advice.  He admits that he's been unfaithful with a woman (or women), and he doesn't know what to do.  After speaking with him for a few minutes, you decide to share a piece of your mind.  As a Catholic, you point out the imperative need for him to repent and confess--both to his wife and his priest.  You remind him of the sacred nature of marriage, and that, as one of the Seven Sacraments, the husband and wife are bound to each other for life.


Like the unfaithful husband, the priest who turns his back upon his solemn promise before God and man in the sacrament of holy orders places his soul in peril.  The priest is being unfaithful to his Church and God.


As Al Kresta pointed out in his insightful blog today, excusing a wayward priest by suggesting he's particularly gifted is akin to saying that the Church was holding the man back.  To declare that the man is more important than the Church, however,  is to embark on a pathway heading straight to the morass of moral relativism.  No priest is above the Church just as surely as no husband can disregard his marriage vows as he wishes.  It's time for some obedience and humility here.


Sadly, I'm seeing many otherwise good people contort themselves every which way as they try to excuse or rationalize Father (for how much longer?) Corapi.  The alleged offenses now pale in comparison with the destructive aftermath unleashed by this black sheepdog, as he calls himself.


I pray for Father Corapi, but, at this point, I believe there's an even greater need to pray for those who are being led astray by his words.  One thing seems to be sure, he's not the man we thought he was.


Readers, I'll see you again in a couple weeks, or so.  God bless.

An Open Letter to Father Corapi

I'm filled with sadness over the whole Father Corapi business.  I am sharing an open letter to him here.  For more information on the situation, I'd suggest you visit the collection of commentary at The Pulp.it.

Fr. John Corapi,

Years ago, your words and the clarion call to to live a life of holiness were a great encouragement and ministry to our family when we crossed the Tiber.  The Tiber waters were often rough as we exchanged friends and a comfortable, predictable spiritual life for a new future filled with questions and anxieties.  Your sermons helped to open our hearts to the beauty and majesty of the Catholic Church, reminding us of what it means to follow Christ's voice--even when the voice calls us to hardship.  

Part of what it means to be Catholic is to appreciate that we are part of something much bigger than ourselves.  In short, it's not about us; it's about Him.  As someone who received a letter once from an imprisoned priest, I think I have the tiniest inkling of what you (and other priests and bishops) face in trying times such as these.  

Still, it seems that something within your response and your declaration to leave the priesthood adds credence to your accusers and those vocal critics--the ones saying that they knew this was coming, for instance.   Worst still perhaps, your departure means that priests facing real persecution for preaching the Gospel have one less earthly model to look to for comfort and encouragement.

We are not your fans.  We are fellow followers of Christ in battle for our own spirtual well-being as well as the souls walking beside us each and every day of our lives.  We don't know these people most of the time, but, as C.S. Lewis wrote, each one of these strangers is an immortal soul--destined to spend eternity in one of two places.  Is what's being done to you unfair and unjust?  Perhaps so, but why would you leave the priesthood over mere accusations?  If it is untrue, aren't we called upon to fight untruth with every fiber of our being?  

You seem to be surrendering a battle long-fought.  I would encourage you, instead, to offer the pain up to Christ and His Holy Mother Mary and take up your personal cross to fight the good battle of faith.  If you do so in humility and grace, your brothers and sisters in Christ will welcome you with open arms. 

I pray that the love of God rest with you always.  God bless.

PS.  In a completely different vein, please see the announcement at Tristan's Travels.

A Classy Reprimand

I've never written a blog on the entertainment industry...but, as a guy who sometimes enjoys watching NBC's 30 Rock,  I had to say a few words about Tina Fey's recent reprimand of Tracy Morgan.  While I don't agree with the homosexual lifestyle, and I believe it's wrong, this isn't an excuse to say rude or threatening comments.  That being the case, I feel that Tina's reprimand of Tracy concerning his disturbing statements of late hit a perfect tone between reprimand and humor.  

“I’m glad to hear that Tracy apologized for his comments. Stand-up comics may have the right to “work out” their material in its ugliest and rawest form in front of an audience, but the violent imagery of Tracy’s rant was disturbing to me at a time when homophobic hate crimes continue to be a life-threatening issue for the GLBT Community.

“It also doesn’t line up with the Tracy Morgan I know, who is not a hateful man and is generally much too sleepy and self-centered to ever hurt another person.

“I hope for his sake that Tracy’s apology will be accepted as sincere by his gay and lesbian coworkers at “30 Rock”, without whom Tracy would not have lines to say, clothes to wear, sets to stand on, scene partners to act with, or a printed-out paycheck from accounting to put in his pocket.

“The other producers and I pride ourselves on “30 Rock” being a diverse, safe, and fair workplace.”


By the way, the fact that this post about Tina Fey was preceded by one concerning Sarah Palin is purely coincidental--I think.  :) 

Pet Peeves & Thankfulness

If your weeks are anything like mine, they're chock full o'nuts--and I am not referring to coffee here.  Now, don't get me wrong.  Whether we're talking about flakey people sleeping where they shouldn't (not talking homeless people here, but they might count, too), making noises best avoided in polite company, missing promised appointments, not responding to important messages, swerving directly in front of speeding fire trucks, or the occasional simple dimwit thrown in for good measure, no balanced list of pet peeves is restricted to people.  Take our cat, for instance.  


Being an inside cat, Buttercup's most sacred goal is ESCAPE.  She especially loves it when door to door salespeople come knocking early on Saturdays.  Once she bolts outside, she most often stops in the center of the front lawn and awaits her master's grumbling arrival to airlift her back to the comfortable confines of the indoors--and her kitty toys.  Believe it, or not, there are times when this behavior can present troublesome and inconvenient scenarios.  Sadly, it's difficult (but not altogether impossible) to place a cat on a proper timeout.  Anyway, this is how my cat often finds herself on the pet peeve list. 


The past week has been unusually full of an exciting number of pet peeves, and, sadly, I really can't elaborate here on most of them.  Don't worry, though, because the worst offenders will most likely find themselves in my writing at some future point.  In one form or another, the people who annoy me the most will live on to annoy my protagonists, too.  After all, I want to be fair and balanced about this whole thing called fiction.  Usually, though, I prefer my characters' more colorful solutions to my own non-solutions--i.e. keeping my mouth shut (for the most part anyway).


After a week of challenging people and situations all trying my patience in unique and unpleasant ways, it was nice to spend some quiet time in a park-like setting this weekend as I reflected on the past week's activities.  While things can be difficult, what I'm really struck by is the power of thankfulness.  I'm thankful, for instance, for God's blessings which include a wonderful family and a stable job or two. A strange little dream I had the other night also serves to illustrate another item for which I am thankful.


The dream went along these lines.  I was visiting a new church with someone.  Before taking my seat, I was handed a bowl of extremely fancy and assorted candies.  Coming into the church, I was struck with the movie theater feel of it.  The music was blaring and some kind of a video number was playing on the front screen.  I looked over at my "friend" (actually, no idea who it was) and asked him whether he really could worship there.  He pulled out his bulletin and pointed to the bottom where it read "Fried Chicken Social." Nodding, he observed, "Yes, that's what it's all about, my friend.  That's what it's all about."


So this dream reminds me in a lighthearted way of how good it is to be done with the church-shopping we did as Protestants for about one and a half decades of our marriage.  In short, it's good to be home.  Besides the spiritual meaning of home, there's also the physical place to consider.  In case you might have missed it, I am a very picky guy.  We've lived in humid Kansas and roasting Texas, as well as northern California and northwest Washington State before arriving in Salem, Oregon.  We're happy to have stayed put now in Oregon since 1996.  It's great to finally live in such a wonderful place--an hour, or so, from the mountains or high desert to the east and an hour from the beautiful Pacific Ocean to the west.  The lush green Willamette Valley of western Oregon is hard to beat, and I am very thankful for the opportunity to raise our family in a place we all enjoy so much.    


So, that's my prescription for battling pet peeves: thankfulness.  After all, it's hard to be simultaneously cynical or critical and thankful!

Happy 200th Anniversary, Astoria!

One of my favorite places in Oregon, Astoria on the north coast, celebrates its bicentennial this year.  I've been visiting Astoria (as an adult) as regularly as possible since the late 1990s.  In my May 10th radio interview, I talked about the inspiration the area gave me for elements of Tristan's Travels.  


While many people seem to think of Astoria as a dark and dreary place, my visits often take place on the most beautiful days: brilliant blue skies, cool ocean breezes, and wonderful ocean views.  (If you want to see some good Astoria photos, check out the video trailer for our little "tale of tails."  Several photos are courtesy Oregon photographer Austin Granger.)  So, I hope you can stop by Astoria, Oregon and wish it happy 200th!  It's a great place to visit, and, I imagine, even a better place to stay.