It takes only 72 hours for a Vancouverite like me to travel millions of years through history and back, without a single client noticing the absence of their adventure-seeking gardener. I am writing these lines as I ride smoothly and oh! how so slowly the rails back from Portland, after a quick escapade to the wilds of central Oregon, a place conveniently located in the middle of nowhere…

This last minute getaway, a very unlikely instance in my regimented life, revealed itself most fun. Indefatigable travelers Josh McCullough from PhytoPhoto and his sweetheart Lana, accompanied by restless Bella, were my companions in crime for this long weekend. A loosely organized ad lib road trip brought us to the east of the Cascades range, a somewhat new territory for my hosts and I. Escaping the incessant rains of the coast, this land of rolling hills and extravagant rock formations studded in fossils offered a drier and much less populated playground. In and around Ochoco National Forest we cruised narrow winding roads, encountering only the rarest traffic and breaking our neck road-side botanizing, then tearing khakis over barbwire fences and worrying over the potential presence of snakes (yes, one found me, a jolly one thank you). We camped in a wet mixed grove downstream from a few beefy clumps of what must be the World’s most unattractive peony, Paeonia brownii (seen above). We zipped through valleys lined with gravity-defying spires and imposing cliffs ‘pastiched’ in the fashion of a tri-colour layer cake.

At the most glamorous of the 3 units of the John Day Fossil Beds National Monument, Painted Hills, the sun’s shyness offered a perfect late afternoon photo shoot opportunity. In this desert setting, abnormally persistent rainfall had made life easier on the greenery. This unusual clemency wasn’t lost on Cleome lutea (or was it C. platycarpa?) (seen above), an odd native annual. In vast numbers, this cleome brightened in yellow the folds of the crimson and tan hillsides. Second to this cleome was a globe mallow, most probably Sphaerocephala aff. munroana (see below). Dotted in a sea of grasses heavy with stunning burgundy seed heads, this little mallow crafted a most electrifying floral show-down in the rarest shade of peachy orange. The whys and hows of this otherworldly landscape remain, to me, a bit of a mystery. Its cosmetic value though, an object of euphemism I shall cherish from now on.

Among countless detours and quick looks around the corner, we were treated with a perfect display of Wyethia helianthoides (seen below), the so-called white mule’s ears. As a first real life encounter to the four of us, this most-charming daisy blotched in pure white the wet bottom of this grassy pasture.  Again, the sun collaborated: the bright but indirect light allowed us to better capture this beauty.

Suffice to mention the absence of any cell phone coverage and most basic shops (where are the Denny’s and Tim Horton’s when you actually need them?) to realize that, indeed, this place really is far removed from everything. On our last day, we ran and ducked into the one dinner we finally discovered to avoid a fantastic freak wind and rain storm. While we lunched on fried delicacies and flat pop, lights went off, half a poplar collapsed onto the road and the one Welcome to Spray sign was blown down. 20 minutes later, as we were heading back to the city, Josh slammed on the brakes one last time for a road-side patch of grasses and Triteleia (seen at the very top of post). Subtly back lit by a declining sun, these humble plants very momentarily shone to new heights. A proof that timing and serendipity are to last-minute plant-minded escapades, as to anything, key to success.