Thursday, August 23, 2018

Colombia River Gorge

The Coke can in Bulgogi, a Korean eatery at the SW end of NE Sandy Blvd, said 1.50. I figure that should be about $1 USD.

I keep thinking this is Canada. It may as well, with the sun laying low on the horizon. It's late August and the evening melancholy hour goes on and on. Not quite as long as in Alaska where the sun rides the ridge forever, but certainly longer than in Sacramento. Our day trip to The Dalles along Columbia River Gorge ended as such and we headed to Rodeway Inn on the other end of Sandy Blvd.

We checked out early from Days Inn in Gresham. With millions of stops along the way it was going to be a full day trip to The Dalles and back. It is the Drive #8 and #10 of the Most Scenic Drive in America. We were going up the river on the South side and then come back on the North bank.

View from Crown Point
The air was still hazy in the morning sun when we got to the Crown Point perched on the cliff overlooking Columbia river. It cleared up a bit by the time we got to Multnomah Fall. We had to take a long detour to the fall. The Historic Columbia River Highway was closed and we had to turn around and come back to Crown Point to get back on I-84.

















After the charging and in-car lunch lunch in The Dalles -- the food didn't look too appetizing in that cow-belled restaurant and we had enough in the car --, it was time to trek back to Portland.

Panorama Point in Hood River









Under the Route 197 bridge just north of The Dalles, black rock slates were climbing out of the river on top of each other and the crystalline water sparkling in the afternoon sun was lapping them energetically.  I could've stopped for it. But I was too tired by then to turn around. I'll come back for it someday.

The north shore of the river along Lewis and Clark Hwy has many streams emptying into Columbia. We were going to follow one of them, The White Salmon River, to Trout Lake. But we were running out of time and electrons by then.  So we stopped and admired the river instead.  The river was about 30 feet down and and there was steel rope tempting you to rappel down. I couldn't resist.

White Salmon River




















About 20 miles west was another White Salmon River, Little one this time. It was draining into, well, Drano Lake. The lake was a man-made one with a levy on Columbia to support the road and the levy encircled the bay turning it into a lake. At the mouth of the river was a dead salmon floating belly up. And we understood why it was called White Salmon River.

White Salmon River



We were all done with streams by then and the sun was getting pretty low in a fall-like day. We made a stop at Home Valley Park, rested on the picnic table by its secluded beach for a few minutes and then continued on to Beacon Rock.

Home Valley Beach


I could've made it to the top of Beacon Rock -- it was only about 20 stories tall, so it seemed -- if I didn't leave my wallet in the car. I didn't want the car broken into, so we turned around half way up. It would've been the first completion after giving up so many times. Instead, it became another abortion.

Beacon Rock

The Cape Horn Viewpoint was our final stop. Soon after we crossed I-205 bridge with another spectacular view of the river and we were back in Portland traversing NE Sandy Blvd.

Cape Horn Viewpoint
















No comments:

Post a Comment