2008 Photos - Ohlson Mountain Road
In the past few weeks I've been looking back over the photos I've taken this past year. Some of my favorites never made it onto my blog pages, so I thought I would remedy that by posting them on these quiet days when nothing else is happening.
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Back on the first Saturday in August I found myself on the back-roads north of Homer, on a mission to buy hay.
No, we don't have livestock--unless you count cats--but we do like to line the cat-run with hay. It makes a clean and cheap cover for the bare earth and the cats enjoy the sound and smell of it. So when I saw the ad selling compressed bales of last year's hay for five bucks, I made a call and got directions.
The trip took me out the Ohlson Mountain Road--winding over the backside of the ridge that shelters Homer and up the next rise in ground to the north. The weather was warm and sunny--a perfect day for a drive, though the road was dusty and there was little traffic.
I bought as many bales as I could fit in the Suburban---twelve it turned out. Here is the Suburban with a view across the area, looking south and west toward Cook Inlet.
Settlers came to the area in the 1930s onward to homestead. Many farmed the high pastures, leaving scattered ghosts across the plateau. Abandoned buildings such as this are still fairly common hereabouts. I always wonder at their stories--who lived there and how long ago. What happened to them. What joys and sorrows the occupants knew. How the dwellings came to be left empty and moldering, slowly returning to nature.
*~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~*
Back on the first Saturday in August I found myself on the back-roads north of Homer, on a mission to buy hay.
No, we don't have livestock--unless you count cats--but we do like to line the cat-run with hay. It makes a clean and cheap cover for the bare earth and the cats enjoy the sound and smell of it. So when I saw the ad selling compressed bales of last year's hay for five bucks, I made a call and got directions.
The trip took me out the Ohlson Mountain Road--winding over the backside of the ridge that shelters Homer and up the next rise in ground to the north. The weather was warm and sunny--a perfect day for a drive, though the road was dusty and there was little traffic.
I bought as many bales as I could fit in the Suburban---twelve it turned out. Here is the Suburban with a view across the area, looking south and west toward Cook Inlet.
Settlers came to the area in the 1930s onward to homestead. Many farmed the high pastures, leaving scattered ghosts across the plateau. Abandoned buildings such as this are still fairly common hereabouts. I always wonder at their stories--who lived there and how long ago. What happened to them. What joys and sorrows the occupants knew. How the dwellings came to be left empty and moldering, slowly returning to nature.
Comments
The abandoned cabins remind me of the same that dot the landscape of the Colorado Rockies. I remember one with a shred of curtain still flapping at the window.
Feliz Navidad