It’s not the Willamette, although there are many spots along our big river that have my heart.  It’s the Santiam.  Factually, the put-in at Green’s Bridge is the North Santiam.  Then after a few miles, in from the left comes the South Santiam.  The confluence.  I love that word.  And then you’re on the Santiam all the way to the Willamette.

I have now been certified — which is to say I have a very impressive embossed certificate from the Marine Board — that states that I am the official SOLVE monitor for that stretch.  SOLVE is a volunteer arm that stands for something like Save Oregon from Litter and Vandalism, etc.  Just ask and they give you the stretch that you love most to look after.

As luck would have it, this is also the run that myriads of kids — read anyone under fifty — like to load up anything inflatable with a twelve-pack and float down to Jefferson on hot days.  You can just guess how many beer cans and bottles and ripped open air mattresses and chairs that were never intended as flotation devices wind up along the banks and in strainers all along the way. “They” recently put up a gate with a complicated lock.  It’s complicated to get the key.  Jim figured that out.  And it’s complicated to get the gate unlocked.  Dave figured that out.  Supposed to keep out the riffraff.  Not so much.  Now everyone but us key holders just hikes in with their plastic floaty things and beverages.

Jim and I just happened to be driving in as the gate was being installed last month.  Getting a key requires a fishing license, a twenty dollar bill, and a drive over to the Fish and Wildlife office north of Corvallis.  The Key Club is very exclusive.

Took Dave and me two trips loading up our kayaks to collect all the trash.

It is such a beautiful stretch.  Lots of splashing to negotiate.   Lots of birdsong.  Deer families grazing in the tall grass along the bank.  Ospreys flying over our heads showing us their amazing markings and diving down to catch fish for their families.

Usually a blue heron comes along with us all day , showing us the way in case we get confused and forget which direction is downstream.

And spotting an eagle always takes my breath away.  Helps if you bring your good camera.  Hard to zoom in like this with my iPhone.

Cigarette butts are litter, damn it!!,  and are very dangerous to birds and fish who get them caught in their gullets.   (Can you see Mrs. Urbanski’s face from there?  Does she look happy to you?)

Looks all cleaned up to me now.  I can’t understand how anyone could mess up this special place.