Appeal Tribune
| WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 3, 2021 | 1B
OUTDOORS
Spark interest
Abandoned
fire lookout offers
striking views
of Mount Hood
Eddy Binford-Ross
Salem Statesman Journal
USA TODAY NETWORK
The fire lookout stands
at the top of Devil’s Peak.
EDDY BINFORD-ROSS/STATESMAN JOURNAL
I look up through the stately conifers draped in moss and past the orange-leaved
bushes showing that autumn is in full effect. There it is, the weather-worn, decom-
missioned fire lookout situated at the top of Devil’s Peak. h My energy renewed, I
quicken my pace up the last hill to the bottom of the lookout. At the base of the
wooden stairs, I drop my backpack and climb the 14 steps to the platform, where a
striking view greets me. Framed by trees, Mount Hood stands grandly in front of me
and the grueling hike immediately feels worthwhile. h Fire lookouts, like this one,
that are decommissioned but still accessible, are rare finds. Today, the distinctive-
ness of Devil’s Peak Lookout entices visitors year-round, including on snowshoes in
the deep winter months. h “There are hundreds of lookouts that used to be on the
landscape that are no longer there,” said Heather Ibsen, Public Affairs Officer for the
Mount Hood National Forest. See LOOKOUT, Page 2B
Anticipation? Try fishing; low tides come in low light
Fishing
Henry Miller
Guest columnist
As a charter member of the Procrastinators Society,
the idea of same- or next-day delivery has a certain
appeal.
In truth, there is no such organization.
Apparently we, the temporally challenged, kept
putting off filling out and sending in our membership
forms, and organizers neglected to schedule the first
meeting.
Just kidding.
I digress.
Actually, the current kinks in the global supply
chain provide a certain measure of nostalgia for those
of us of a certain vintage, or as others sometimes put
it, well past their best-by date.
IMHO, “in my humble opinion” in text-speak,
there’s one vital element to maturity that’s woefully
lacking in the current instant-gratification culture: the
sublime experience of anticipation.
No more do youths go through the thrill of going to
the mailbox daily for three weeks waiting for some-
thing you ordered (by mail, naturally) to arrive.
That excruciating, exasperating anticipation, fol-
lowed by the giddy rapture of fulfillment.
Welcome to living history, oh online shoppers who
see the expected delivery date sometime next month
when you press “order now” on the shopping cart icon.
Up until the current global bottleneck, there were
only two experiences that come to mind that required
that most underappreciated of virtues, patience.
The first is gardening.
Granted, you still have to wait for the planting sea-
son to start.
But that global supply chain to retailers and home
gardeners came up with a work-around to waiting for
seeds to sprout: selling 2-feet-tall veggie plants, some
with Lilliputian cukes and tomatoes already forming.
To my mind, that’s cheating, although in all hon-
esty, I’m a repeat offender.
The second exercise in patience is fishing.
Sometimes interminably, and often as with the un-
seen title character in Samuel Beckett’s play, “Waiting
for Godot,” without result.
But nothing beats that delicious anticipation of a
strike, or even a nudge or a nibble, and if you’re lucky,
the sheer, enveloping joy of the intermittent success.
As with gardening, you always can buy a tomato or a
fish.
But as with both, it’s the reward-to-effort ratio
that’s the real prize.
I fish; therefore I wander, flail, and wait.
Welcome to my world.
Someday you can regale your grandkids with their
Patience is a virtue much in short supply, except
among anglers and gardeners during current supply
chain bottleneck. HENRY MILLER/SPECIAL TO THE STATESMAN
drone-delivered, 1-hour packages about the exquisite
two-week anticipation of the arrival of the Postal Ser-
vice, UPS or Amazon Prime delivery van.
See MILLER, Page 2B