Monday, August 20, 2007

This piece is plodding along slowly, but will be done in full soon. Here's a sneak-peek, since I know you all have been losing sleep the last few weeks in anticipation...


Far away to the east, tucked up against the borders of Washington and Idaho, are the Wallowa Mountains. Jagged, alpine, they rise up out of the desert sere. These steep slopes wring what moisture has survived the traverse of the Cascades, and thus are covered in lovely pine forests and starry montane lakes. The highest peaks are crowned in glaciers, from whose feet streams gush out, pouring through flower-jeweled meadows and rocky washes on their way downhill.

One of these, named for the winds that flow up and down the canyon, is Hurricane Creek. This is a stream in a hurry; the water kicks and froths along, taking very few pauses on its way. Far from a lazy coastal river with swimming holes and rope-swings, this is a wild, semi-frozen churn- water that only hours before was ice. It dashes along under the sharp-needled pine trees and out onto the plain, where it is parceled out in charming little canals that irrigate the lush pasturelands and grain fields at the foot of the mountains.

But before the thirsty wheat takes it all, this little stream gives its bounty to the glowing little community of Enterprise, Oregon. This is the water responsible for one of the best beers in the state. You can taste the gush and froth of wild Hurricane Creek in every pint of Terminal Gravity.

...stay tuned for the rest of it, at least two paragraphs more...

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