I headed down to the forks this morning to fish for salmon and despite the fact there were fish jumping all over the place, none showed any interest in my lure. After a while I let go of the idea that I might catch a salmon and turned my attention to the sights and sounds of early fall.

The trees are starting to change. The osprey chick is now hunting for itself. The gray heron lets out an irritated squawk. Flocks of ducks and geese pass overhead. Robins and flickers dart from tree to tree, and the gray squirrel gathers acorns. The blue jay follows the squirrel and steals from his stash.

The farmers are waging a war against crop-eating birds by firing propane-powered cannons at them. They harvest the fruit with giant vacuums that roar as they ingest everything in sight. The air is crisp and a fragrance reserved for this time of year floats on the wind. After a couple hours, I decide to head on down to the Light House Café in Umpqua.

The drive from the forks along the river takes you through some very unusual geologic scenery. The valley changes abruptly at the turn off to Cleveland Rapids as the hills jump up on the right side of the road and rearrange the skyline. A little farther on you get squeezed onto a narrow track that is carved into the base of a steep ridge.

This man-made path almost certainly sits atop an ancient Indian trail that was obliterated by a wagon trail, which in turn was bulldozed into the river and covered over with asphalt winds back through time.

Looking at the geology at this point in the trip is a risky business, as you need to watch out for livestock, wildlife, rolling rocks or migrating trees that have tripped and fallen down, blocking the road. We'll look at the rocks on the return trip.

After a bit you arrive at a “T” intersection that directs you to Tyee to the left or Umpqua to the right. Go right.

When I was a younger man I use to buck hay bales on these farms. Back then the locals would gather at the old Umpqua Store in between chores and socialize. To them the store was more than a gettin' stuff place it was a hub from which the spokes of their lives radiated.

I always sit outside, but the air is crisp, so take a sweater. As far as the food is concerned I don't think you can go wrong. The soups will warm yer innards. By the way, the flowers are part of the meal, so eat 'em up.

Now look out to the west and behold the mountains of Tyee. Notice that they are not the rolling hummocks that greeted you at the entrance to this time machine. These mountains are massive, broad-shouldered, solid and a serious challenge to the clouds sent inland by the Pacific Ocean. For millions of years the sea has deployed armadas of water-laden airships up the river valley and over the tops of the coastal mountains in an ongoing battle to erode these fortresses of rock and earth. These giants will not yield to paltry raindrops.

As I was clearing my dishes, a car pulled up and a miniature Groucho Marx jumped out and headed for the door. He stopped short of going in and waited for the adults he was chaperoning. He adjusted his glasses with the attached mustache and nose and waited patiently. If you make this trip, I hope you get to see a movie star.

Now it's time to head back toward Garden Valley via the river road. Maybe two miles upstream from the T intersection there are several wide pull outs on the right side of the road. Look for the one where the trees have left an opening that allows you to see the river. It's obvious and easy to spot. Stop and get out.

Look down at the rocks on the opposite bank and you will see layer upon layer of rock that has been thrust up, pushed sideways and twisted like candy in a taffy pull. These veins run helter skelter across the landscape. Each of these contorted layers represents a time when our place on the planet was experiencing severe growing pains. Now look upstream at what is one of the longest unobstructed and easily accessible views of the main Umpqua River.

You might like to know that the word “Tyee” was used by the Indians when they spoke of someone who was a leader, a great chief. On the Campbell River they refer to giant Chinook salmon as Tyee.

Fall in Douglas County is magical.

Lloyd Irwin is a Douglas County native who recently returned to the area and is living near Glide. The beauty and treasures of Douglas County have inspired him to spend some time writing about the area. He can be reached at lloydijr@aol.com.