We missed a turn en route to our destination. As the four of us crested a hill, we found ourselves eye-level with one of these:
A collective, respectful "daaaamn" went up from the crowd.
After some additional driving, and assurances that I would make sure to stop by here on the way back from Centralia, my ADD-like inclinations got the best of me, and I swung the rig around, headed back for the windmills, and found a good place to park.
Surprisingly, access to the site was simple, and, apparently, not discouraged. I looked for, but did not find, any signs prohibiting our presence. There were a handful of warning signs indicating that high voltage was present, and I'm certain there were cameras to observe our activities; the site seemed very photographer-friendly.
The first thing that struck me was the sound. The blades appeared to be moving at a deceptively leisurely pace, but the "frwwrrzz" of displaced air as each blade came arcing toward the ground was eerie, I've tried to document it with a short video:
Beyond that, the mere scale of these windmills was impressive. You understand, at a purely intellectual level, that machines like this are large. They're visible from miles away. You don't really get to appreciate them on gut level until you stand at the base and look up:
I can't easily quantify how many feet above us the hub was, but a fact sheet on this model of windmill puts it about 250 feet above us. I'll buy that.
We took a few more shots, got a few more minutes of video, and finished up with a shot of The Missus and Annie before heading down in Centralia:
I'll cover the actual Centralia portion of the trip in "Centralia Part II - Mine Fire Boogaloo".
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