When I sit down to write a blog entry I seldom know what I am going to write. I choose some photos and then start. Sometimes the post takes a totally different direction than I had anticipated. Tonight I plan to merely share about my adventures and discoveries on a drive I took with my friend. T has lived in the area for well over twenty years. He is the one who usually decides where we go when we hit the road…after all I don’t know where anything is.
Today we headed east of town and then into the Ochoco Mountains. The distant scenery was awesome.

So was the moss on the rocks.

In the distance we could see a thick bank of fog blanketing the valley. We headed down and through it.

We turned towards the Painted Hills. I had heard the name thrown around in the camera club meetings but I was mistakenly under the impression that they were in a different state. I don’t know why but I did.

Instead they were a little less than two hours from home.

The fog was hanging straight and heavy just above the highest hills.

I have seen the Painted Desert in Arizona.

Even with the fog casting a misty, muted damper on the area, it was still just as beautiful. I quickly snapped a few photos and then we headed to a nearby tiny town and ate a delicious lunch of hamburgers and onion rings.

After stuffing our faces we headed onward…and discovered these green, gray hills off the side of the road.

I wonder what mineral makes them green.

I was taking most of these photos out of the truck window…many as we were driving…but here’s a cropped, closer view of the “green hills” as I call them.

Next we passed this cute little school-house. I sometimes think I would like a job teaching in some little one room school in the middle of nowhere with the trees and ditches and fields as a playground.

I don’t think this one is still in use as a school.

The road continued to curve and meander through the hills and valleys.

We got to a crossroads and T turned onto the road leading to some reservoir. He had never traveled this road before and we weren’t sure where we’d come out. But it was cleared of snow and paved. We figured it had to lead to another main road eventually. We stopped a rancher driving by with a huge bale of hay on his mud splattered truck and discovered it looped around to where we had come from. That was fine by us since the jagged, moss-shrouded cliffs offered spectacular views.

The fog continued to linger in spots. Here it was valiantly attempting to hide the distant mountain top.

We ended up on the road we had driven in on. The sun was sinking slowly towards the horizon and the fog nestled in the valleys.

The road led us homeward through thick swirling fog.

A simple day…with simple pleasures…and awe inspiring scenery…perfect for a Sunday drive…