That annual thing we do...

It's become a tradition. Every year, my man, my pup and I go on a trailer road trip. When we lived in the city, we were able to get away on these trips much more often, but now that we're on property, and with a lot of critters, we have to really try hard to make it happen.

This year I had a lot of help getting ready to go.

Roopert and Spongebob enjoyed kicking dirt into the driveway as I was loading:

Skippy thought maybe she'd like to pack her bags and join us - and she told me l-o-n-g stories all about it:

George, as usual, had his feet in all of my business:

He finally decided that exploring the top of the trailer would be his helpful contribution. (WARNING: poor quality iPhone photo to follow) See him?:

Roxy placed herself smack in the middle of the trailer where she knew I wouldn't forget to take her along:

Beau, though, couldn't believe his ears when I broke the news that we were leaving. "You're going WHERE, Mama?!!":

Chester, who always considers himself the center of every situation, wanted me to know that all I had to do was bring the trailer by and he'd "climb right aboard":

This year, we've headed into the far eastern most part of our pretty Oregon state.

Our destination was the Wallowa Valley in the Wallowa-Whitman National Forest - and a campground at Wallowa Lake, an incredibly beautiful location, known for its scenery, pristine waters, and friendly wildlife.

Our first view of the lake was late afternoon under an overcast sky - quite dramatic:

One of the first things we did was climb aboard the mountain gondola, or tram. This tram is the steepest four-person gondola in North America, ending at the 8,256-foot peak of Mt. Howard:

Extreme heights and I aren't generally the best of friends, but as long as I was behind my camera lens, I seemed to do just fine:

At the top of this mountain are panoramic views of Oregon, Washington, and Idaho:

Wow:

Really, though, it was vividly colored lichen - which, granted, may not be every one's cup of tea - that was capturing my attention on this day:

Look! An entire stick's worth!:

The Wallowa area calls itself "Oregon's little Switzerland" and this claim was underscored by the type of food that was served at the cafe on top of Mt. Howard. The sausage and sauerkraut were delicious!!:

So far, so good ... we're having a ball!

Honey goes to Grandma's

When you are a special chicken who has divorced her flock and has chosen to live the (exotic if rather dangerous) life of a free bird...

Special arrangements must be made for you when your human protectors leave the farm for any length of time:

In this particular case, a visit to Grandma's was just the ticket. Roxy, my farm pup, acted as navigator and co-pilot (she knows this trip by heart!):

Upon reaching her destination, Honey immediately jumped out to determine grass quality:

She's not a light packer, this girl. She comes with a lot of baggage:

Honey wasn't entirely convinced she would enjoy the smaller roaming area and proceeded to fully explore her boundaries:

Fortunately, my step-dad made it his number one priority to ensure that Honey would, indeed, stay put in her new area. He made sure every hole and tempting escape point was properly sealed:

Roxy was very concerned that she, too, would be left to spend time in the new Honey-yard. See her at the far end of the run? Not happy:

I needn't have worried that Honey would have any problem with the new arrangement. After she performed her walk-around and confirmed that all her "necessaries" were where they should be:

She settled right in to her important daily task items of grass-eating and bug-catching:

...just like back at the farm.

And Roxy navigated me straight back home where we could get other things ready to go...:

A new pasture, opened

There's a tell-tale noise I make, a clanking of chain on metal:

...that alerts my small herd to imminent, untold delights:

Hooves come thundering:

down our big hill:

Chester sails over a log with anticipation:

The trio moves so fast:

...even the cloud of dust can't keep up:

In a swift maneuver that leaves me cheering...:

my normally slow and steady Beau maintains his strong -if unusual- lead:

and twelve happy feet sail past me:

With their eyes on the prize...:

nary a glance is cast my way, yet at this moment I feel profoundly appreciated:

Let the feast begin!:

Poor little farm doggy

So, do you think Roxy...:

had any idea...:

when we moved to Critter Farm:

...who she'd wind up:

spending her days with?:

Me neither:

Poor little city-girl-turned-farm-doggy:

She still struggles a bit with all the different languages she has to speak now.