North Eastern Oregon

Taming my wild, restless roots the only way I know how- to ride 500 miles. Rock and roll, gallons of water, and the yellow line of time going town to town. Hunting ghosts or running from them, I’ll never tell. The past crosses my mind as I cross the state up 97 past the Wind…

Rowena Crest

When I lived in the valley I was too young to know the flowers would someday become a thing of gold. In my naivety I picked the blooms for potions, pulled the petals to see who liked me and who did not. The colors of the spring were just a part of things, until they…