Having dragged what seemed like an enormous amount of clothes, books, cameras, computers, and other in sundry things thru JetBlue to Portland, OR last Thursday, we arrived and settled into our little moving house last Friday. It was exciting to feel that the long thought-about adventure was beginning. By Friday afternoon we were tucked in, Aaron had given us the first in a myriad of lessons on how the RV systems work (oh, lessons like… check the levels in the waste tanks often and when you dump them, let the ‘black water’ go first, then the ‘grey water’ – don let any of it splash back at you!) and we had met up with Kay’s brother Sam, wife Sarah, and daughter Lily. Along with Summit the big dog, we would all spend the week together celebrating Aaron’s graduation on Saturday and then camping in and about Oregon.
Of the graduation – it was well appointed. Set outside on a day that was close to 100 degrees, the big shade trees on Pacific University campus did their job in cooling. Speakers came from the graduating professional students… short statements of the hopes and dreams of their peers. Later in the day the PA Program class recognition ceremony was held downtown in what would be a wonderful space if only it had been air conditioned. Oh well! Heather says Daryle and I drag hot weather with us wherever we go – not totally true but it felt that way Saturday afternoon.
By Sunday we were ready to play! Sam had arranged a rafting trip for all of us for Monday so Sunday we headed up the Columbia River gorge to Hood River. What a glorious place. Moving through the green lush river valley, punctuated by precipitous cliffs and mountain ranges lined up to the east, we then turned away from the river at Hood River and traveled south, toward Mt Hood, through dryer agricultural area, fruit farms and wheat fields. The land forms in the Mt Hood valley were totally honest. Steep rolling hills dry brown with stubble of recently cut wheat - contour farming marking the shapes of the hills, sage brush rubble on the slopes too steep to contour, and fruit trees where irrigation was available. I was taken by the grey-blue-green of the sage against its dry, stony ground, black stems snarly and dry, random in their twists and bends, left behind after the green sage withered. Sunday night we watched the half moon rise and the sun set on Mt Hood in clear, warm air.
Rafting trip on the Deschutes River… great experience. Todd, the guide, managed us well. Of the six of us, only Aaron had rafted previously. Class IV rapids looked scary as we drove up river to the put-in place but the 100 degree temperature of the day rendered the water very inviting. Adorned with all the proper equipment and a good amount of adrenalin reserves, we pushed off for a 14 mile ride. It was a RIDE! Some smooth stretches which allowed time to look, lots of other boats which were quick to greet us with water cannons (of course we responded in kind until a truce was called), and then there were the rapids. Todd took us straight thru the largest waves, raft bending ford to aft as if it would fold in half, sidling up on the edge of eddies, and rolling around a tumultuous hole in the currents. Those adrenalin reserves powered our howls! Great fun was had by all. Even Daryle, who traveled without his glasses or hearing aids, enjoyed the adventure.
On then for Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday to Astoria at the mouth of the Columbia River and to the Oregon Coast. We were all becoming comfortable camping in the RV and tent. Ate way too much food, biked and hiked. Aaron, Daryle and I spent Thursday at Ecola Point, the place where, in 1806, Lewis and Clark reached the Pacific. This is temperate rain forest extraordinary with precipitous cliffs, bounded by sandy beach - craggy pillars of rock in the water. Rain forest friends included Queen Ann Lace, thistle, ferns with their twisting fronds, white fox glove, trees with bases so large that a person could sit between the root extensions. The beach, like beaches around the world, were populated by dogs and surfboards, waves and kites, silhouettes of families, children dancing into and out of the cold water, bright blankets flying in the wind as they are laid down, children lost in imagination of their own making, running, stretching, laughing. Sun warm and wind gentle; frisbees fly and bodies reach, instant beauty in the gesture. Stick boats sail and sink and are resurrected again. The wave hole on the far cliff is pounded, explodes with spray, and settles with no regard to the human play on the beach. And the march of surfers goes on, surfboard under arms they walk up beach to find one more wave to sail down current. As we left for the drive back to Portland, the enormous size of the trees with their moss covered branches and the sun filtering thru in speckles made clear just how unique this rain forest is.
Now, writing quietly in the RV, parked in Sam’s driveway in urban Tacoma, homeless folks walking past from the night shelter to the day programs. Life seems like such enormous contradictions.
Of the graduation – it was well appointed. Set outside on a day that was close to 100 degrees, the big shade trees on Pacific University campus did their job in cooling. Speakers came from the graduating professional students… short statements of the hopes and dreams of their peers. Later in the day the PA Program class recognition ceremony was held downtown in what would be a wonderful space if only it had been air conditioned. Oh well! Heather says Daryle and I drag hot weather with us wherever we go – not totally true but it felt that way Saturday afternoon.
By Sunday we were ready to play! Sam had arranged a rafting trip for all of us for Monday so Sunday we headed up the Columbia River gorge to Hood River. What a glorious place. Moving through the green lush river valley, punctuated by precipitous cliffs and mountain ranges lined up to the east, we then turned away from the river at Hood River and traveled south, toward Mt Hood, through dryer agricultural area, fruit farms and wheat fields. The land forms in the Mt Hood valley were totally honest. Steep rolling hills dry brown with stubble of recently cut wheat - contour farming marking the shapes of the hills, sage brush rubble on the slopes too steep to contour, and fruit trees where irrigation was available. I was taken by the grey-blue-green of the sage against its dry, stony ground, black stems snarly and dry, random in their twists and bends, left behind after the green sage withered. Sunday night we watched the half moon rise and the sun set on Mt Hood in clear, warm air.
Rafting trip on the Deschutes River… great experience. Todd, the guide, managed us well. Of the six of us, only Aaron had rafted previously. Class IV rapids looked scary as we drove up river to the put-in place but the 100 degree temperature of the day rendered the water very inviting. Adorned with all the proper equipment and a good amount of adrenalin reserves, we pushed off for a 14 mile ride. It was a RIDE! Some smooth stretches which allowed time to look, lots of other boats which were quick to greet us with water cannons (of course we responded in kind until a truce was called), and then there were the rapids. Todd took us straight thru the largest waves, raft bending ford to aft as if it would fold in half, sidling up on the edge of eddies, and rolling around a tumultuous hole in the currents. Those adrenalin reserves powered our howls! Great fun was had by all. Even Daryle, who traveled without his glasses or hearing aids, enjoyed the adventure.
On then for Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday to Astoria at the mouth of the Columbia River and to the Oregon Coast. We were all becoming comfortable camping in the RV and tent. Ate way too much food, biked and hiked. Aaron, Daryle and I spent Thursday at Ecola Point, the place where, in 1806, Lewis and Clark reached the Pacific. This is temperate rain forest extraordinary with precipitous cliffs, bounded by sandy beach - craggy pillars of rock in the water. Rain forest friends included Queen Ann Lace, thistle, ferns with their twisting fronds, white fox glove, trees with bases so large that a person could sit between the root extensions. The beach, like beaches around the world, were populated by dogs and surfboards, waves and kites, silhouettes of families, children dancing into and out of the cold water, bright blankets flying in the wind as they are laid down, children lost in imagination of their own making, running, stretching, laughing. Sun warm and wind gentle; frisbees fly and bodies reach, instant beauty in the gesture. Stick boats sail and sink and are resurrected again. The wave hole on the far cliff is pounded, explodes with spray, and settles with no regard to the human play on the beach. And the march of surfers goes on, surfboard under arms they walk up beach to find one more wave to sail down current. As we left for the drive back to Portland, the enormous size of the trees with their moss covered branches and the sun filtering thru in speckles made clear just how unique this rain forest is.
Now, writing quietly in the RV, parked in Sam’s driveway in urban Tacoma, homeless folks walking past from the night shelter to the day programs. Life seems like such enormous contradictions.
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