Last weekend, rather than absorb my typical diet of basketball from my couch or baseball atop a barstool (where I would have almost certainly found myself engaged in an argument with a stranger over the obvious benefits of the designated hitter), I went to a music festival for four entire days of rock and/or roll music, but absolutely zero sports.
You're probably thinking to yourself right now, “Jeez, this damn guy gets to go to the internationally known Sasquatch Festival and now he's bitching about having missed out on sports? Puh-leese.
Outside
The Desecration of Hidden Forest Cave: Vandals hit one of the region's most treasured caverns
When some ignoramus trashes one of our natural or historical treasures, it's an insult to us all. That's what happened recently at Hidden Forest Cave, one of our more unique natural features in the Deschutes National Forest. They all but ruined it.
Like most of the lava caves we have in this part of Oregon, Hidden Forest Cave was formed so long ago that geologists count the time that's since passed in eons. It began when pahoehoe (meaning “smooth, unbroken”) lava flowed over the top of another lava flow. The surface cooled, but beneath the smooth crust the interior was still molten. As more lava surged through the lower surface, it eventually drained out at the toe, leaving a tube in its wake.
Water and ice seeped down into the tunnel again and again. At some point, the ceiling of the tube collapsed, leaving behind a large hole open to the sky. Soil eventually formed – including ash from the magnificent eruption of Mt. Mazama where Crater Lake shines in the sunlight today – and grass, shrubs and trees began to grow in the bottom of the hole, among them some magnificent ponderosa pines.
Pedal Till You Drop: Three local cycling competitions offer plenty of pedal power this weekend
If you're a Bend bike racer of any ilk, by the time Memorial Day dawns, you'll have earned at least one grilled bratwurst and a beer. With three bicycle races over the holiday weekend in Central Oregon, local competitive cyclists will have a choice of which hurt locker to enter without having to travel far from home. Meaning no excuses, no epic excursions over the Cascades to get your competitive groove on. It's going down here.
And, come Monday, depending on how many races you've done, you can down multiple brats and brewskis with no guilt, all the while flexing your awesome quads.
The Power of Nowitzki: What do you expect from a guy named Dirk?
Anybody seen that new Thor movie? Yeah, neither have I.
But from the previews, I've gleaned one thing and that's the fact that Thor looks and probably acts almost exactly like Dirk Nowitzki. And judging from the way the lanky German is dominating the Thunder in the Western Conference Finals, maybe he is some sort of demigod. Right, I know, Thor is from the Norse tradition and Dirk is German, but wasn't Thor the god (or part god or whatever) of thunder? If that's the case, chalk a point up for Dirk, would ya pal, because he's definitely in charge of the Thunder right now.
And if you're slamming down your horn-adorned helmet and angrily stroking your massive blond and/or red beard at the effrontery that is my lack of Norse mythological knowledge, I'm sorry. But shouldn't you really be in line to see Thor again instead of reading this stupid sports column? Thor never reads sports columns, but you'd know that because you're an expert, right?
Not to worry! They're only tent caterpillars
“Is this Jim Anderson who writes for the Source?” the caller will ask.
“Yes, it is,” I'll reply, “what can I do for you?”
“I want to know what those ugly (sometimes, “repulsive” will be used), twitching, hairy things are all over my bushes!” And that's the subject of the phone calls I'll be getting at least once a day over the next couple of months when the weather warms up.
Those squirmy, fuzzy things in the photo – and the obvious ones you'll see in silken tents really soon – are western tent caterpillars (which will eventually become moths) chomping the leaves of Antelope Bitterbrush, Purshia tridentata. Like most long-term residents of Central Oregon, you sort of grow up with tent caterpillars every spring. We notice them out of the corner of our eye as a causal part of the landscape, but once in a while, they seem to be “more-than-casual” and show up, “all over the place.”
Once Bitten, Twice Shy: More off-leash dogs means more dog encounters on the trails
It's a beautiful, unseasonably warm Saturday in Bend. I have a paid baby sitter entertaining my two minis so I can ride as long as I want. Although it's gusty, I've opted for a trail ride, and feel smart as I imagine my husband and his pals riding their road bikes on the open, windswept roads east of Bend.
I ride C.O.D., which is reportedly in good shape compared to some of the other trails in Phil's, and as I ride under the rock outcroppings I think of mountain lions. For some reason that trail, more than others, makes me aware of my appeal as a tasty snack for a big kitty.
I push the thought from my mind, as I always do, and had a great ride up to Storm King. Coming back down, I clear some tricky sections and, feeling pretty darn sassy, decide to add a loop and extend my saddle time. I'm cruising on fast, tacky single track when a couple of animals jump from the brush onto the trail in front of me.
Fore! Play? This is why I don't play golf, OK?
One time, I took a golf ball to the neck. True story. I wish I could say that the ball was merely bouncing along the cart path and caromed harmlessly my way, nicking the top of my back. But no. This was a 125-yard shank job that nearly knocked me from my perch atop the diesel-powered industrial lawn mower on which I spent most of the summer of 2002. Son of a bitch hit me square in the side of the neck, an inch below my ear, almost prematurely ending my career in golf course maintenance.
I brought the mower to a halt and turned to see in the distance, at an adjacent hole, a sunburned man in a Hawaiian shirt giving me a half-assed and seemingly apologetic wave. I leapt from the mower, picked up the offending golf ball and hurled it toward my assailant. It fell a good 75 yards short, so I also chucked my neon hard hat – the design flaw of which turned out to be its lack of neck coverage – for extra effect, before realizing that my neck was slowly swelling to a near-immobile state. That bastard stood there with his hands on his hips, shaking his head disapprovingly at the behavior of the minimum-wage employee he almost erased from the face of the earth.
Take Your Ball and Go Home: The Lakers get swept from the playoffs, then take off their shirts
Well, L.A. Lakers, you win some and you lose some. And when you lose some, you apparently start body-slamming people in an attempt to embarrass your soon-to-retire coach.
Rarely has such a hyped team of reality television stars and veteran players flamed out so badly in the NBA playoffs. The Seattle Sonics (they don't exist anymore) did it back in 1994. The Spurs kind of did it this year against Memphis. But the Lakers' four-loss flameout to the Mavericks was perhaps the most unglamorous playoff series loss and it came from the NBA's most glamorous team – and one that many thought might be on its way to a third consecutive world championship.
Trailing Off: An impromptu exploration of Smith Rock's trail running opportunities
Bend is home to arguably some of the best trail runs in the world as well as the best trail runners. While the running scene in Central Oregon might often be overshadowed by its flashier and faster cousin – cycling – Bend is known nationally as a great place to train, compete or plan a vacation around exploring the trails.
Lucky for us locals, many of Bend's trails can be accessed through other trails maintained by the Bend Parks District. In many cases, we can avoid getting in the car altogether. Within a few miles of downtown, there is everything from loops that feel like mountain climbs to gentle routes along the Deschutes River that have almost no elevation gain.
One of my favorite things about running on trails is that you can see a lot of scenery in a short time, especially if you can work your way up to some longer routes. Trail running is also a lot better for your body because dirt is more forgiving than pavement, and you get to breathe fresh mountain air instead of car exhaust.
Tasting the Forbidden Fruit: This weekend's Chainbreaker race offers a great way to see Skyline Forest
The annual Cascade Chainbreaker mountain bike race is perhaps best known for providing a passport to forbidden fruit: private land, almost 33,000 acres of it, riddled with single track. Like Willy Wonka opening the factory gates, the Chainbreaker has effectively served as the single track equivalent of the Golden Ticket, providing participants with access to fantastic and isolated trail.
What many people don't know is they can go there anytime they like, at least during spring, summer and fall. But they might want to bring a topographical map, a compass and a strong sense of direction. The Skyline Forest, as it's now referred to, encompasses almost 50 square miles of undeveloped land northwest of Bend. Historically known as the Bull Springs Tree Farm, this huge chunk of land is the prize in a slow-developing transaction between the Deschutes Land Trust and the property's owner, Cascade Timberlands, LLC.

