Chasing Waterfalls.
Oregon is a beautiful state. Just like Washington, where I am now, it's green and lush and there's always a new waterfall and beautiful hike just around the corner. The rest of Oregon flew by, I feel like the past few weeks have actually. We traveled north from Bend past a tiny town called Shaniko that resembled Rock Ridge in Blazing Saddles. With a population of thirty three people on a good day, six of them being children which the shop owner proudly declared to us while browsing, it's only two streets long and was a very small detour on our way to new sights. The Columbia River Gorge, famous for being the perfect place for kite surfing also boasts a very beautiful scenic drive. It wound around and down through tiny towns like Mosier with amazing peaches at the farmer's market and an ice cream shop decked out to look like a Porsche dealership. Driving alongside multiple waterfalls, we attempted to get to three and actually only saw one. The first, Punchbowl, had a two mile hike from the trailhead which normally is nothing. Remember how we summited a mountain in Bend? That was the day before so our legs were completely dead. We made it maybe half of a mile in, looked at each other, and silently agreed to just turn around then and there. The second waterfall we came to we had to climb through a rocky gorge and scale downed trees to get to, along with many other people, before realizing we had the wrong shoes on and going any farther in freezing cold water was just not going to happen barefoot. Strike two. Multnomah Falls made up for our lack of waterfall thus far. "Oregon's waterfall" is actually two, one cascading down to the other with a walking bridge in between dividing them. Catching it right as the sun was setting was perfect lighting and the perfect way to spend an evening after chasing waterfalls all day. The payout of seeing it crash into the small pool below was worth the wait.
After splurging, I use that term loosely mind you, on a Motel 6 for the night in the hopes of wifi and also necessity, camping, couch surfing, and hostel options lacking in Troutdale, we woke up semi-refreshed and headed to Portland for the day. Ever since Bertha's break in I'm always a little nervous and very aware about where I leave her and another city for another night was just not something I really wanted to do. So, making the most out of our day, we started it off with breakfast from a food truck. Portland is known for their food trucks and entire blocks are lined with them, each one different, more creative, and probably more delicious than the last. We walked along the waterfront eating our sliders and burritos and made a big loop back towards Powell's, the world's largest independent bookstore. We got lost in there for quite some time and decided to follow it up with another suggestion from the food truck guy, the rose garden. Free and fragrant, I loved this stop. Rows and rows of blooming beauties awaited me. They shot up from their garden beds, some taller than me, and teased my nose. I made sure to smell them all as Thatcher hunted down the award winning patch from 2016. Portland is a very cool place and even though we only got a small taste I liked what we saw. The neighborhoods are all so different and downtown is bustling with people in and out of shops and restaurants. As a friend reminded me, luckily he did, their beer is amazing. We stopped for a happy hour tasting at Breakside Brewery and loved their IPAs more than anything else on the menu. A true compliment from two people who really dislike IPAs. Last but not least - Blue Star Donuts. I know, I know, Voodoo is supposed to be the way to go but as the food truck guy explained, Voodoo is somewhere you should try but Blue Star is the local's favorite. Well, once he said that I immediately knew that was the one I wanted. I knew going into this that it wouldn't be my favorite, that tile is still held by Marvel's in Long Beach Island, NJ, but they were damn good and worth the calories. I will give them that.
Finishing out Oregon by seeing its coast was the way to go. Cannon Beach, a small and colorful, bright and friendly coastal town is home to Haystack Rock. Stepping onto the sand and finding the beach and landmarks used in The Goonies was a childhood dream come true. No, scratch that, a regular dream. It is, after all, still one of my favorite movies. Thatcher humored me when I told him I needed a video of me cartwheeling in front of the giant rocks jutting out of the Pacific. He chuckled, maybe even rolled his eyes a little, and I'm pretty sure I embarrassed him slightly. Whatever. Childhood me excited = an excuse to embarrass everyone around me and get away with it. Not only was Haystack Rock used, but the tiny town of Astoria, the last you pass on your way to Washington, played a big role. We drove through the town past the jail and did a little digging to find Mikey's house. The number of signs warning us not to even think about approaching the house were too many to just "play dumb" but from the bottom of the hill, I knew exactly which house it was; any Goonies fan would.
Next stop, Washington.
My 25th state has not disappointed one bit. We drove across the Astoria-Megler bridge, it's four miles of green steel beams surrounding us and blending into the vast landscape of forest ushering us into Washington. Our first night in the Evergreen State we were lucky enough to spend with Mike, a retired schoolteacher who loves traveling and welcomed us with open arms, and his adorable pit bull Lil' Miss. He even sang happy birthday to our Dad with us when we called the next day before pointing us in the direction of the most amazing blueberries I've ever had. Living next to a blueberry farm is something I would take advantage of as often as possible if I did. We wandered among huge bushes with tiny berries all the while eating and plucking and adding to our tin. Two for me now, two for my tonight, and so on and so on. One pound and one dollar later, we continued on our way through Washington, fresh berries in hand, to Mt. Rainier National Park.
We ended up camping for two nights off the grid in the park for free, amazingly enough (doesn't happen too often in the parks themselves.) Mowich lake, a freezing, but surprisingly clear alpine lake next to our campsite was the perfect place to rinse off after a long day of hiking or just take a dip when the heat was too much to handle. Situated between two amazing hikes we decided to do both in a day. Yes, it sounds like a daunting task but really it wasn't so bad since they weren't terribly hard hikes. The morning was spent heading towards Spray Falls. The trail climbed down through the forest, Mt. Rainier poking out in between the trees and standing tall very far above us, while along the way small waterfalls, more like trickles on water, emerged. The water poured in between slick rocks and moss and glistened in the strips of sunlight shining through. Finally approaching the two mile mark, we came out of the forest to the sound of rushing water and the sight of a massive waterfall. We carefully climbed across the boulders sticking out like a bridge to the other side to get a better view and were rewarded with the just the right amount of mist cooling us down from the humidity. Satisfied, we headed back to camp along the now way more populated trail and relaxed next to Lake Mowich before the mosquitoes drove us away. I have never had so many bug bites as I did from this camping trip, seriously.
The afternoon was spent hiking up to Tolmie Peak where an old fire lookout station still sits. Covered in small purple flowers and tall stalks with white fluffy balls on top, the name of which I still don't know, the color along this hike was unique in itself. At the top of the hike, right before the lookout, Thatcher looked at me and told me how much I was really going to love what was coming next. I stepped out onto flat ground, finally, and found myself looking at one of the most gorgeous views I've seen so far. Mountains fading in the background and a grass covered field sloping into a U shape in front of me, it was covered in purple buds. If it wasn't on the side of a mountain I would have been more tempted to walk through the field of lavender. We sat down and relaxed on the balcony of the lookout where we met two new friends, Jonathon and Alex. The brothers were there to do the same thing we were, take a break and stare out at the perfect Lake Eunice down below, which we would all jump into later, and the enormous Mt. Rainier in front of us blending in with the cloudless blue sky. Everything about that view looked too pristine to be real yet somehow it was.
It's amazing how even after almost seven months of traveling, I still manage to find every new place and view exciting and special.
Hopefully that won't change anytime soon.
I'm a bit behind on the blogging and I've just finished Seattle. I loved it here. Next time, though.
- G.
The Photo:
Multnomah Falls.
Along the Columbia River Gorge, Oregon.
7/30/17.
