They go by many different names: thermal pools, mineral springs, spas, baths, hot springs — or my personal favorite — Mother Nature’s jacuzzi. These steamy soaks are typically a product of geothermal heat or volcanic zones, which means they’re found in some of the most geologically diverse and beautiful terrains in the world. Many of us are familiar with well-known hot spring locations like Iceland’s Blue Lagoon or Pamukkale in Turkey, but those closer to home often fly under the radar. What you likely didn’t know is that the U.S. boasts 1,661 known hot springs, most of which are located in the western part of the country.

Hot Creek Geological Site, Mammoth Lakes, United States. Photo by Cody Saunders

Many of these springs are too hot to soak in, but even after you subtract those from the list, there’s still a wealth of steamy pools that are within road trip distance from most major cities across the Pacific Northwest, Colorado Rockies and the Southwest. Some are tucked away in the high desert while others are nestled in the dense forest, only accessible by hiking in. So, that’s where this guide to natural hot springs that are off-the-beaten-path comes in. Covering 71 springs in total, this outlines hot springs that have been left mostly au naturel — because there’s really no better way to “soak up” the magic of nature than to soak in it.

To help make your hot spring quest easier, this guide covers all the important information you need to know like location  number of pools, type of access and whether or not each spring is clothing optional. Yes, at some, you can even leave your suit at home! Always remember to leave the springs and their surrounding areas in the state that you found them, or if possible in even better condition than when you found them by picking up trash. Pack out what you pack and leave no trace to help preserve these natural gems for generations to come.

The following maps and locations were provided by CarRentals.com

Arizona

Arizona is known for some of the most spectacular sites in the U.S. — think Grand Canyon National Park, the Kofa Wildlife Refuge, Antelope Canyon and Havasupai Falls, but did you know that it’s also home to a handful of off-the-grid thermal springs? Most of these aren’t an easy task to reach, but they’re well worth the hike. You can enjoy hot springs in Arizona that sit perched alongside a river, up above the Roosevelt Damn or tucked away inside colorful canyon walls.

California

The golden state is home to some of the most diverse terrain in the U.S. that will meet the needs of any outdoor enthusiast. From national parks and beach-side camping, to sand dunes and surf to snow accessibility, it might actually be true when Californians say they have it all. But, did you know it also boasts over 300 hot springs? Since hot springs in California span the length and width of the state, these natural gems are a short road trip away from most major cities.

Colorado

Colorado is internationally renowned for its breathtaking mountain scenery and powdery slopes. Village towns like Vail, Breckenridge, Aspen, and Telluride are just a few ski resorts that have put this state on every winter lover’s radar. And just like we hoped, where there are snow-covered slopes, there are hot springs. Colorado is dotted with incredible thermal waters from natural rock pools to resorts surrounded by evergreens. Take a break from a long day of playing in the mountains to dip into some of nature’s best.

Idaho

For people who’ve never been to Idaho, potatoes might come to mind when they think of this state. This, among other misconceptions, is what helps make Idaho a hidden gem. While farming is prevalent, its geographic diversity and low population density, mean that Idaho is, in many ways, defined by its landscapes. The snow-capped Sawtooth Mountains, millions of acres of protected forest, whitewater rivers and volcanic plains are just a few highlights. Unique geological location also means there is an abundance of Idaho hot springs to enjoy — 232 to be exact, and unlike many other states, almost all of them are safe to take a dip in. There’s really no better way to “soak up” this state’s magic than to soak in it.

Just another picture perfect Idaho hot spring. Photo by Michael Bonocore

Nevada

Nevada is often defined by its vast expanses of desert, vivid nightlife, 24-hour casinos, and entertainment industry. On the flip side, it makes for some of the best road trips to explore its awe-inspiring landscape and eye-opening destinations, in particular, natural springs, which are sprinkled all over the rich geothermal areas of the state. While some Nevada hot springs are extreme enough to foster a thriving geothermal energy industry, others have been tapped into to create remote and relaxing springs that will leave you craving for more.

Oregon

Often considered one of America’s best outdoor playgrounds, Oregon is home to glacier-clad volcanoes, vibrant high deserts and icy rivers that keep fisherman, backpackers and whitewater kayakers coming back for more. However, you don’t have to be an outdoor junky to appreciate this state’s natural beauty.

For those simply looking for a breath of fresh air with a stunning backdrop, Oregon delivers. A mix of climates means that you can bask in a steaming pool that sits perched above an icy river, under a canopy of pine trees or enjoy the scenic backdrop of an Oregon hot spring in the open plains.

Utah

Utah has no shortage of amazing outdoor activities and is commonly known for its multi-day adventures along remote byways, like the “Mighty Five” national parks. But there’s more to this state than sweeping vistas, arches, alcoves and epic canyons. Chances are, if you’re visiting one of these incredible sites, you’re likely near one of the many hot springs in Utah. Just remember, that while nudity is widely accepted in many thermal pools across the U.S., it’s actually illegal here. Don’t dip without your suit!

Washington

There may be fewer hot springs in Washington than most states in the Western U.S. — 30 in total — but its beautiful secluded locations and pine tree forests make up for the quantity. The Pacific Northwest is not only known for its vibrant green outdoors but also its heavy snowfall. With a white blanket covering the state of Washington during the fall and winter, there’s really no better way to defrost than by taking a hot springs road trip — just make sure you come prepared with good tires and chains.

Hot springs have been called the “fountain of youth” for their claimed anti-aging effects that mineral water can have on skin. More commonly, people visit these natural gems to experience nature in its most primitive form and soak up the incredible landscapes around them. However, that doesn’t mean they’re 100 percent safe or sanitary. Even popular springs that have been known for their consistent temperatures, can change without warning. Don’t forget that thermal springs are heated from the energy that comes within earth’s core, so you should test the water and read any warnings before jumping straight in. For many visitors, a hot springs road trip can be a way to relax sore muscles, set off on new adventures or clear away the winter blues. Use our guide to help you plan your road trip and rent a car to see some of the best and off the beaten path soaks on the western side of the U.S.

Mammoth Lakes, California. Photo By Robson Hatsukami Morgan

This version of this guide originally appeared on the CarRentals.com blog

The post 71 Natural Hot Springs To Warm Up In This Winter appeared first on Resource Travel.

Car fully loaded, we left Huntington Beach, California at 11:30 P.M. and drove non-stop to Redding, California. We arrived in Redding just before 8am, just in time for sunrise at the Sun Dial Bridge. The bridge was still frosted over from the cold night before making it extremely slippery. We were running and sliding down the bridge trying to warm up and loosen the legs. We grabbed some breakfast in town at a local cafe diner then were on our way to get a lakeside view of the famous Mount Shasta. When arriving at Lake Siskiyou, we were greeted with an amazing view of the top of Mount Shasta fully covered in fresh snow.

Lava Beds National Monument

We jumped back in the car to drive a few more hours to Lava Beds National Monument. This National Monument is truly underrated and deserves the National Park Title in my opinion. After you check in at the visitor desk, you’re cleared to go lava tube exploring. I highly recommend bringing a flash light as your cellphone won’t help much. The brighter your flashlight, the better opportunity you have for taking crisper images. If you’ve thought about visiting, definitely add it to your list!

Crater Lake National Park

We found a random motel for the night near the California/Oregon border in Klamath Falls. It was inexpensive and and the quaint town was very interesting. We had a neighbor in the motels who’s dog kept trying to break into our door, but other than that it was cozy. We set our alarms and awoke to leave at 5 A.M to catch the sunrise at the spectacular Crater Lake.
Crater Lake was everything I expected it to be. There was no one around at this hour and all you could hear the water in the lake below, and the wind was whipping hard! After spending a few hours here, we made our way north towards Olympic National Park to visit the Hoh Rain Forest.

Hoh Rainforest

The Hoh Rainforest is an incredible location. This was my 2nd time visiting the National Park on a road trip. I visited previously during the fall, so seeing it during winter was completely different. I loved the way the snow contrasted with the green moss, it seemed like an eerie dream. As cool as it was to experience this place in the fall, during the winter gives it a whole new aesthetic. I still prefer the look in the late summer/fall because everything is so green, damp, and foggy, but visiting this winter wonderland was still incredible.

Crossing the Border: Ferry To Victoria, Canada

The next morning, we woke early to catch our ferry from Port Angeles, Washington to Victoria, Canada. The sunrise was incredible and felt like it lasted for hours. Being this far north, in the winter months you are gifted with these long golden hours that pretty much last the whole day except a few hours at lunch. We stopped along the way to visit the Cathedral Grove forest. It was similar to the Hoh Rain Forest, but much denser. After Driving for a few more hours we finally made it to our final destination, Tofino!

Tofino, Canada

I’ve been to Tofino, Canada numerous times in the summer for the Rip Curl Pro Tofino surf competition, but this was my first winter excursion. Snow was covering the nearby mountains, the waves were pumping, and the days were much shorter compared to the 12+ daylight hours during the summer months. Once we were settled in we went and surfed Cox Bay and Long Beach area, before visiting the local Tofino Hot Springs.

This spontaneous winter road trip through some of North America’s most beautiful settings reminded me that there is never a bad time for a road trip. Warm, cold, sun or snow, a road trip is always about connecting with your friends, and more importantly, connecting with yourself. And for me, there was no better way to start off a new year full of possibilities and new friendships and adventures.

This article originally appeared on Justin Jung’s website. Follow Jung’s adventures on his Instagram, YouTube and Facebook.

The post My Winter Road Trip: From California to Surfing Canada’s Frigid Waters appeared first on Resource Travel.

But what we didn’t know after seeing the image was how the scene unfolded, and the hard work and planning that went on behind the scenes to accomplish what is now one of the most iconic images of this rare phenomenon.

The behind-the-scenes video opens up with Hesser talking about how Smith Rock is one of the homes of sport climbing, before conveying his doubts that what his team has planned will actually work. As the team wakes up, you can see cars already entering the parking lot, as this was one of the most sought after locations in the state to view the eclipse. Even Michael Shainblum, who joined in to shoot video included in the final film, is on hand. Studer, normally well composed, coveys that he is indeed feeling the pressure.

Honestly, I am kind of nervous. We don’t have a whole lot of time to capture this.

The team has done the math. Worked out every conceivable angle. But in reality, with only inches to spare, they would have to adjust quickly if their predicted lines didn’t work out.

As the eclipse begins to take effect, the howls of excitement that echo off the rock walls mix perfectly with the sound of the rapid fire camera shutters. And finally, we see it. The perfect shot came together.

There is no denying this was one of the most amazing natural events of recent times, and being that this is the first eclipse to hit such a populated path in the social media generation, the access we have had to it is unprecedented. We saw many photos of the eclipse, but few were as impressive as these.

Photos provided by Andrew Studer and Michael Shainblum. Follow Studer on his website, Instagram and Facebook. 

See more from Shainblum on his website, Facebook, 500px, and Instagram.

The post The Story Behind the Viral Photo of a Rock Climber In Front of the Solar Eclipse appeared first on Resource Travel.

So when Gray published a new film showcasing the beautiful coastline of his new home state of Oregon, I knew it would be an engaging film. And as always, Gray delivered.

Hailing from Northern California, Gray moved to Oregon for school. While Oregon State is obviously a great school, it’s no secret that the surrounding landscapes played a role when it came time for Gray to choose a university. Gray told me:

As most artists can agree, being stuck in a creative rut can be frustrating to say the least. At the end of my senior year of high school, I was not feeling very inspired. I needed a change of scenery. I had lived in the Bay Area for my entire life, and as much as I love it there, there was a restlessness inside of me that I just couldn’t shake. When it came time to pick a college to attend for the next four years, this restlessness ended up playing a big part when making my decision. I ended up choosing to go to Oregon State University, which turned out to be the perfect place to meet both my creative and academic needs. After moving up to Oregon, the creative rut I had felt previously seemed to have been filled, and I looked at my new environment with an open mind. The possibilities were endless, and I soon took an interest in aerial filmmaking and the Oregon Coast. It wasn’t long before the two merged together, and “Clearly Coastal” was born!

So it’s safe to say that Taylor is loving his new home. But with his whole life ahead of him after college, it will be interesting to see where Gray winds up. I asked him about what the future may or may not hold.

Right now, my biggest passion is landscape and travel photography/filmmaking and I would like to be doing this type of work for as long as I possibly can. However, there are so many opportunities and possibilities in front of me, that I find it somewhat difficult to pinpoint exactly where I will be in the next four years. I am keeping the door wide open for different opportunities that may come my way involving this sort of work. Traveling, shooting, and filming for a living is my biggest dream, but to answer the question truthfully, I do not know where I will be at the end of my college years because there are so many different experiences and possibilities that await me, which will ultimately help shape my perspective and allow me to find the career path that is right for me. Looking back four years ago, camera technology was nowhere near where it is today, and I believe that I wouldn’t have been able to achieve the same quality of work back then that “Clearly Coastal” has now. I cannot even fathom where technology will be in the next four years, but I believe that I will be in my right place and ready for whatever comes my way regardless of the direction my career takes in the coming years.

Wherever Gray’s path leads him, we are sure Gray will be very successful wherever he winds up.

See Also – Taylor Gray: My Future is my Inspiration.

Read Taylor Gray’s previous article on Resource Travel which talks about his photography inspiration. Also to see more from Taylor Gray, follow him on Instagram at @taylorgrayphoto, Facebook or on his website.

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The post Explore Oregon’s Rugged and Diverse Coastline From the Sky appeared first on Resource Travel.

In 2016, Hochhauser left his job as a video editor and traveled from his home in Vienna, Austria to San Diego, California to embark on a journey that would both inspire and humble him. I loved the film, and had to reach out to Hochhauser to talk more about this incredible adventure.

“Where did the original inspiration to hike the PCT come from?”

Years ago I watched a documentary about the Appalachian National Scenic Trail on German television. The idea of thruhiking rose from that moment on and at one point I stumbled across the PCT, which seemed much more versatile and interesting to me compared to the Appalacian Trail. At one point I just said to myself ‘Just go for it’ and I started planning and organizing my hike in the US.

“Is video editing your full-time job? Being that the trek takes months, what did you need to do in order to prepare your business back home for your absence?”

I am a full-time video editor, most of the time working on commercials. I work in a small company with great people and I am super glad that they gave me the chance to follow my dream of hiking the PCT. They knew everything about my plans couple of months before my departure, so we searched for a replacement for the summer.

“You say in the film, every couple of days you would need to hitchhike to a town to re-stock on supplies. If you had to estimate the amount of money spent to accomplish this trek, how much would you say it cost, all in?”

Spending money on the trail is easy – because when you have the chance to get drinks, food and a shower in town you really wanna indulge it. If you don’t have the funds and wanna live a cheap life on the trail that’s also possible, but I spent up to 1000$ a month on food and accommodation. So all in (including flights and gear) I spent around $7000-$8000.

“What was the most challenging aspect of the trek? At what point were you at your closest to giving up and abandoning the hike?”

The most difficult part was Northern California. Not because the terrain was challenging, but it was a huge mental challenge. After the beautiful Sierras it was hard to come back to desert-like conditions and high temperatures. We all were ready to go into a new state but California just didn’t want to end. I had problems with my feet again and the trail was kind of boring for some days – I just tried to push through that mental down and find new motivation – which worked eventually.

“At the end of the film, You talk about many other adventures waiting for you. What other epic, and difficult, adventures have you been dreaming about?”

I have nothing particular planned so far – but a lot on my mind. I want to travel through the South Pacific or maybe do a long motorcycle tour. But until then I am back at my editing job to save up some money.

The post One Man’s Challenging 5-Month Journey on the Pacific Crest Trail appeared first on Resource Travel.

The snowiest location in Oregon is reeling from this winter’s brutal pounding. An avalanche on Highway 62 happened when a sheet 18 inches deep and 100 feet wide broke loose, spilling onto the road. The park’s headquarters building is buried under 99 inches of snow, which is 134% above normal. That total will easily surpass 100 inches today with another 16-26 inches expected. Needless to say, counting on the park to reopen on Wednesday is a long shot, so if you have plans to stop by Crater Lake National Park, make sure to check out their website for the latest updates.

This is what the Headquarters building usually looks like in early winter. Photo by Casey McCallister.

And here is what it looked like this week. Photo by Crater Lake National Park.

All remaining photos by the author, Michael Bonocore. 

The post Heavy Snow Closes Oregon’s Crater Lake National Park appeared first on Resource Travel.

Welcome to the grove. Photo by John Waller/Uncage The Soul Productions.

Photo by John Waller of Uncage The Soul Productions.

On the last morning of my 38th year I awoke 75 feet above the ground of a grove, tightly wrapped inside the arms of a tree. The arms of three trees actually: one towering Douglas Fir, its canopy crowned in cones and its trunk deeply rutted like the lined and weathered hide of an aged elephant, plus two close-by slender cedars, their fragrant and feathery fringes wagging contentedly above, below, and between our skillfully strung arboreal beds. Our tree boat beds. The tree boats are technical hammocks designed to safely suspend reclining climbers. They’re capable of supporting 5,500 lbs while still being gentle to the protective outer bark of the supporting trees. It was in these tree boats that myself and my partner, John Waller were lulled to rest by the rush of the tumbling Opal Creek below us, and where we nestled into our mummy bags to dream, in subtle sway with a barely-there September breeze.

Why the hell was I asleep in a tree? Good question. Maybe I’ll go back a twig.

Waking up in a tree boat. Super dreamy.

Ever since I read Richard Preston’s “The Wild Trees” I’ve had it in my head to somehow find myself up inside the tangled towers of a forest canopy. Growing up in and among the majestic Redwoods of Northern California to me the canopy was a fantastical avian penthouse, and with my bare toes tucked into the soft folds of the sorrel, ferns, and moss floor below, I could only imagine what it must be like up inside the high branches. It was “The Wild Trees” that made me think that maybe I could reach those branches as well as add “sleep in a tree top” to my very very short so-called “bucket list”. *

This past year I shared my treetop dreams with John. He had served some tree time working with the non-profit Ascending the Giants and had met some talented arborists through ATG and his subsequent documentary project, “Treeverse”. He responded to my dream-turned-birthday wish with a quick and confident “I can help make that dream happen.” He introduced me to Damien Carré, owner-operator of Oregon Tree Care and Expedition Old Growth. It was through EOG that we would be making this dream come true in one of the most recently protected Oregon treasures, the Opal Creek Wilderness. Thanks to the Opal Creek Ancient Forest Center, Expedition Old Growth was granted the opportunity to guide us to the top of an old growth tree. And so plans were made to spend the last weekend of my 38^th year climbing a big ass tree in an ancient grove of Douglas Fir, Western Red Cedar, and Western Hemlock. I was going to spend the night among giants, some as old as 1,000 years!

Opal Creek Wilderness is about an hour east of Salem. It isn’t a secret area, by any means. The heart of Opal Creek is Jawbone Flats, a rejuvenated historic mining outpost in the midst of 35,000-acres of ancient forest watershed. It’s a relatively easy 3-mile hike into Jawbone Flats, with popular swimming spots along the way. And on any given sunny day the trail is teeming with foot traffic. It’s one of those special places that one might fear is at risk of being overru. The goal, beyond simply sleeping in the top of a tree, was to find a way to help love this special place to live. Instead of hiking, John and I opted to bring our bikes into Jawbone Flats where we would meet up with Damien and Ben, our Expedition Old Growth guides.

We stashed our bikes in the woods and set off behind Damien and Ben, tip-toeing across slick river rocks to our basecamp, just feet from the clear pools of Opal Creek. Up above our heads they had already strung our tree boats, our guest room for the night. My cheeks already hurt from smiling so hard. We then wandered over to check out the Douglas Fir that we would climb that day, a tree likely climbed only one time before us, when Ben had first scrambled up to anchor our ropes earlier that afternoon. That would be where we would have a gear-training session, and then we would ascend about 200′ into the canopy. Standing at the base of this exquisite Douglas Fir I craned my neck as far back as I could and gazed up to where the sun rays flitted through the highest boughs. I couldn’t see the top. My heart swelled and spilled out the corners of my eyes.

After a quick cliff-jump into the frigid Opal Pool (one that I opted out of after seeing the stinging red cold water reminders on Damien’s arms) we were finally off to get acquainted with our climb gear so that we could get friendly with our neighboring giant.

I’m not going to break down the required tree climbing apparatus here. This isn’t a gear story. It’s a relationship story, if you recall. And so for the weekend warriors who want to get after it and get into a tree, please don’t go it alone. Please consider taking the ascent into the canopy alongside folks who know how to climb trees with the proper care, respect, and technical skill, such as Expedition Old Growth. Great care was taken and often reiterated to us by our guides to minimize our impact on these ancient beings. And so Damien and I began our ascent with Ben and John soon to follow. Our hands were kept to our ropes, our toes merely tapping the trunk.

About a fourth of the way into our ascent I paused, sat back in my harness, and removed my gloves. My hands were sweaty. Tucking the gloves into my cleavage (anatomically built-in climb gear!) I proceeded climbing with my bare hands on the rope. The majority of the effort comes from leg work, not from the arms and hands, but about halfway up the tree when Damien and I took another pause to maneuver around the thickening tangle of boughs I glanced at my hands. I had completely shredded them on the rope. 6 large blisters were open and exposed and glistening. The gloves went back on, and we kept going up. Later Damien would point out an exposed area of a branch that had been scraped clean of lichen and moss — 3 or 4 inches of 100-year-old lichen, gone, an effect of our visit. “The way I see it,” Damien said, “You just gave the tree some of your skin in exchange.” Even with a mindful approach, it is completely impossible to have an impact-free climb. I paused and rested my palm gently against the lichen. I wasn’t sorry for being here. But I was acknowledging that I was, in fact, an uninvited guest, and I hoped that my gratitude would be felt.

It isn’t uncommon for tree-lovers (of which I consider myself one) to refer to trees as friends, to anthropomorphize them and ascribe emotions to them in ways that make us feel like we better understand them. It’s a hard thing not to do. Being human is all we know how to be. So we assume a common ground of feeling, of benevolence or appreciation, in order to think we’re communicating. But as I paused there with my hand against the lichen, suspended by ropes slung around the branches of a tree that didn’t personally invite me there, my perspective shifted. This tree was not my friend. That was my own word, an assumption. So I attempted to search for a new idea, one that might transcend human emotions and instead be found in proximity and intention. Respect wasn’t quite it — respect still seemed too human an idea. With my hand gently hovering over the lichen and moss, and my heart beating so near to the trunk, I settled into this idea of acknowledgment instead. “I see you, and I know I need you, and you need me. I don’t presume to know you. But I promise to pay closer attention.” Understanding that while the tree and I don’t have a shared language, it’s possible we have a shared concept of acknowledgment and recognition. And perhaps, with an effort to stop anthropomorphizing trees and instead phytomorphizing myself, I could better understand how we might co-exist as neither The Giving Tree nor The Taking Human, but as true good neighbors. This perspective gave a new depth to my relationship with the sentient individuals that comprise the forest. Symbiosis experienced. Reciprocity revealed. It was an Avatar moment for sure.

Welcome to the grove. Photo by John Waller/Uncage The Soul Productions.

And then there was beer. Ben and John emerged from beneath our feet. We hung out in our harnesses, taking in the sweeping 360 degrees of old growth splendor, and cracked a few well-earned IPAs. Best beer of my life? Without question.

Sipping on our treetop beers, we chatted on about the Opal Creek Ancient Forest Center, and how if it weren’t for their conservation efforts all that we were witnessing from our 200-foot arboreal vista wouldn’t be there. Not only would we have lost a rare piece of Earth’s history, but we would have sacrificed a critical ecological component and compromised a vital watershed, and for what? Old growth lumber isn’t exactly practical in its applications. Ben described old growth cedars simply exploding when cut down, rendering them useless for much more than matchsticks. Damien and I shared a beautiful conversation about the motivation to intimately connect others with old growth trees — our kids, our friends, our frenemies — in order to firmly root a profound awareness of our symbiotic relationship with them. And because I wasn’t recording at the time, I made Damien repeat himself …

While I was still grappling with this idea of acknowledgment and recognition as a form of communication, we discussed the language that trees share with each other. There is an unmistakable communication system, not so different from human neural and social networks. As an example, one tree in a grove could be under attack by an invasive bug. As the bug chomps on leaves, the tree releases volatile organic compounds into the air. The other trees detect these airborne stress signals and ramp up their production of a chemical defense mechanism in response, warding off attack. Makes it easy to wonder, are there signals being sent out to us that we simply haven’t been sufficiently aware in order to receive them?

With the promise of a stream-side dinner of sweet potato and black bean quesadillas … and with our beers emptied … we decided it was time to return to the ground floor, but not without a few more gulps of the canopy breeze and, of course, some photographic evidence of where we had just been (in the unlikely scenario that we would ever forget!).

How’d you like to have your next birthday party up here?

With figuring out the gear, getting into my ascender stride, and pausing to nurse my careless finger wounds, the ascent took me about 45 minutes. The descent however, maybe took 5 minutes, and it was a whole new thrill to see the forest floor gain back exquisite detail as I blissfully yet begrudgingly raced to greet it once again. (By the way, the next day Ben would ascend this beauty again in order to remove the ropes and anchors. The whole process – ascent, de-rig, and descent – took him just 12 minutes.)

Back on familiar territory, my tree-legs reacclimating to life among the ferns, I paused to glance up at where we had just been moments before. It was surreal, and yet remarkably tangible, all my senses cranked up to eleven. And I already wanted to go back. Head out of the clouds (but only literally), hugs and high fives shared among us, it was time for the next chapter in our treemendous weekend adventure: Rock-a-bye Kelli, in a tree top.

We filled our bellies on a scrumptious dinner made on the spot by Damien next to Opal Creek. Some friends of his had insisted they contribute their respective culinary and bartending skills and we so we sipped from a bottle of Manhattans and noshed on blueberry cobbler with fresh-baked banana bread, to which I couldn’t help but exclaim “Oh Breanna!”, a garbled and bulging mouth thank you to the generous baker whom I’d never even met.

Surrounded by ancient firs and hemlocks, the shadows grew long and the laughter grew loud. There was a hum of persistent life flowing in and among our giddy group, and I sensed something akin to a warm welcome (though again that’s my own human spin on things) bouncing back our way from the rocks on which we dined and the foliage through which we played. Smartwool leggings, my puffy coat, and my favorite tall striped camping socks were put on and I traipsed into the trees to try to squeeze every last drop out of my bladder before turning in — or up, rather — for the night.

Damien climbed up our night tree first, with me to follow. JQ would stay behind for a bit so I could ascend and string some lights around our tree boats, because … pretty! And while I felt solid in my earlier ascent, and this one would only be 75′ up instead of 200′, the struggle became real. Someone (ahem) had insisted she didn’t need first aid on her open finger wounds, and so even while wearing gloves, the friction against the rope proved agonizing, causing me to stop and rest in my harness and shake out the sting before ascending a few more feet. I had been so wrapped up in the intimacy of the days’ events with these neighboring giants, that I failed to wrap up the details of my raw digits.

Damien tucked me in with sage advice on where to hang my helmet and water bottle for the night, and he coiled the end of my rope next to me in my tree boat with a fluid talent not unlike a fly fisher casting a line. It was mesmerizing. Then he bade me good night and JQ made the ascent to join me in our avian penthouse, where I waited with smiles, sleepy eyes, and chocolate truffles.

The truth is, I hardly slept that night. I was sufficiently comfortable, the waning summer still offering a friendly warmth. And despite a brief dream in which I tumbled out of the tree boat only to flip back around to the top (assuring me that I had in fact slept, if only for a short while), I wasn’t afraid in the slightest. This felt like a home I could get used to. The cedar fronds within my reach were comforting in their gentle shushing and sway, and both JQ and I couldn’t resist petting them as one might a beloved pet. And when I finally allowed my eyes to remain open as the sky began to lighten and the birds trilled around me, I peered over the edge of my tree boat to see what I was unable to see in the darkness of the night before. The creek tumbled down below on either side of us, never taking a moment to be completely still and quiet. The creek was as it was meant to be. The trees were as they were meant to be. And I was as I was meant to be. And here we were, all together, just being, as we were meant to be. I laid back into my bed, peering up through the branches, and shivered in silent appreciation. “I see you. I need you. And you need me. And I promise to pay closer attention.” Because, after all, this is a relationship story.

To anyone who has ever felt the slightest tug of appreciation for a tree, please consider taking the ascent into the canopy (alongside folks who know what they’re doing, such as Expedition Old Growth). While I can’t speak for anyone’s experience except my own, I cannot imagine you’ll return to roots-level without a newfound understanding of this breathtaking symbiosis. I’m still dizzy with elation over the experience and am challenged to reinterpret my own relationship with trees, no longer seeing them as a “renewable resource” or even “friends” — but instead as wondrous, mysterious neighbors in whom I can trust, and for whom I will strive to be worthy of theirs.

Editor’s Note – This article originally appeared on Kelli Martinelli’s blog. Republished with permission. See more from Kelli and her company Mamoré on their website, Facebook, and Instagram. 

Want to see more photos? you do! Check out the full album from Uncage The Soul Productions.

Want a tree top experience of your own? How could you not?! Expedition Old Growthcan cater an experience that best suits what you’re after, whether it’s an overnight, a family day trip, an educational class outing, or even an “elevator ride” up into the canopy.

Please consider supporting the Opal Creek Ancient Forest Center. Sign up for any of their workshops, expeditions, wilderness medicine courses, outdoor school, or even rent one of the cabins and enjoy a few days in the fascinating historic mining outpost of Jawbone Flats.

The post How I Spent My Birthday Sleeping on Top of Some Big Ass Trees appeared first on Resource Travel.

Always exploring ways to help inspire others to appreciate the night sky, Canales began working with the Oregon Museum of Science and Industry astronomy camp, where he would take the campers up to some of Oregon’s darkest locations to feast in the vivid night sky. Ofter, they would meet up with Oregon Star Party, a group of almost 600-night enthusiasts. Like Canales documents in his films from previous years, the two groups gathered to witness the Perseid Meteor Shower at Hancock Field Station in Central Oregon and the Ochoco State Forest.

But unlike his last film, which Canales made using the High ISO capabilities of the Sony A7s, this year, he was armed with the new Canon ME20f-SH, which as the capability of shooting at 400,000 ISO. Coupled with the Sigma 20mm f/1.4 ART lens, Canales thought he had a setup that would yield his best results to date.

The Canon MH20 hard at work in Oregon’s Alvord Desert.

The video is an inspiring example how far technology has taken us creatives in the last decade. As Ben says…

 

Welp… I think this one may be the beginning of something damn interesting….This was shot at 400k ISO on the Canon ME20f-SH. Check out the scene at 2:50!

 

Check out more from Canales on Uncage The Soul Productions , his astro photo website and Facebook.

Canales provided Resource Travel with a collection of photos from his previous trips with  Oregon Museum of Science and Industry astronomy camp and Oregon Star Party.

The post See the Milky Way and Perseid Meteor Shower at 400,000 ISO appeared first on Resource Travel.

DPReview’s Barnaby Britton took Canon’s new flagship camera to the Nyssa Nite Rodeo in Oregon to test it’s performance under pressure. Check out the video, read more about the camera on DPReview, and check out Barnaby’s shots below!

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Photos courtesy of Barnaby Britton and dpreview.com

Photograph taken at the Nyssa Nite Rodeo, Nyssa Oregon, June 18th 2016. Photo by Barnaby Britton

Photograph taken at the Nyssa Nite Rodeo, Nyssa Oregon, June 18th 2016. Photo by Barnaby Britton

Photograph taken at the Nyssa Nite Rodeo, Nyssa Oregon, June 18th 2016. Photo by Barnaby Britton

Photograph taken at the Nyssa Nite Rodeo, Nyssa Oregon, June 18th 2016. Photo by Barnaby Britton

Photograph taken at the Nyssa Nite Rodeo, Nyssa Oregon, June 18th 2016. Photo by Barnaby Britton

Photograph taken at the Nyssa Nite Rodeo, Nyssa Oregon, June 18th 2016. Photo by Barnaby Britton

Photograph taken at the Nyssa Nite Rodeo, Nyssa Oregon, June 18th 2016. Photo by Barnaby Britton

Photograph taken at the Nyssa Nite Rodeo, Nyssa Oregon, June 18th 2016. Photo by Barnaby Britton

Photograph taken at the Nyssa Nite Rodeo, Nyssa Oregon, June 18th 2016. Photo by Carey Rose

Photograph taken at the Nyssa Nite Rodeo, Nyssa Oregon, June 18th 2016. Photo by Carey Rose

Photograph taken at the Nyssa Nite Rodeo, Nyssa Oregon, June 18th 2016. Photo by Carey Rose

Photograph taken at the Nyssa Nite Rodeo, Nyssa Oregon, June 18th 2016. Photo by Carey Rose

Photograph taken at the Nyssa Nite Rodeo, Nyssa Oregon, June 18th 2016. Photo by Carey Rose

Photograph taken at the Nyssa Nite Rodeo, Nyssa Oregon, June 18th 2016. Photo by Carey Rose

Photograph taken at the Nyssa Nite Rodeo, Nyssa Oregon, June 18th 2016. Photo by Carey Rose

Photograph taken at the Nyssa Nite Rodeo, Nyssa Oregon, June 18th 2016. Photo by Carey Rose

The post Field Testing the Canon 1D X Mark II at the Rodeo in Oregon appeared first on Resource Travel.