All is not lost
The photos of the Epic Road Trip Out West live on. The external hard drive is still wonky and being all nihilist about coughing up the info stored on it. It’s all like, “Why do you care what information is on me, we’re all gonna die some day, so what’s the point?” But, I found the pictures sitting in the camera ready to be downloaded once again. Camera memory laziness pays off. Procrastination has its benefits.
We left Portland driving east on 84 – the Historic Columbia River Highway. Trisha took us out this way back in 2008 to see the Columbia River Gorge and Multnomah Falls. This time, we drove the length of the river as we headed to Idaho. A glance across the Columbia River and you see a mirror highway of cars riding the Washington border as you skirt the Oregon border. The river has its fair share of industry but it doesn’t clutter up the sweeping beauty of this drive.
Sometimes a camera gets in the way of the experience. Plus, it takes time to take pictures and we didn’t have a lot of time to spare. This is how I justify not taking pictures when I really wish I did. As a substitute, I found a blog by photographer Blaine Franger, with gorgeous pictures of the Mt. Hood/Columbia River area. If you like scenic photography, check it out. The photo below is of the Mt. Hood river bridge.
After drinking in the drug of awesome, scenic beauty to the point of drunken reverie, the highway began its southeasterly turn across the vast plains of eastern Oregon. This is the land Native Americans had all to themselves not that long ago. No fences or bridges or windmills, just wide open spaces.
We, hi-ever, have a car and she who knits was knitting while I did some snapping. We were heading for Pendelton, OR – your typical small, American town with groovy old-timey signs and a main-streety looking Main Street.
If we had more time, I just might have stepped my gay self into the Rainbow Cafe. For cocktails.
It has always been my contention that Idaho doesn’t exist. I’ve known one person who claims to be from Idaho but we’ve never met. We are about to find out. Idaho, a reality or an illusion?
Home of the world famous Pendleton Round-up!
On to the land of Famous Potatoes!
Can you believe I was fine with not stopping at Pendleton Mills? Were my dear old dad still among the living, a stop would have been required because he loved his Pendleton sweater to no end…