5/1 - After the excitement of a weekend in Southern California roaring around the desert with a motorcycle club, it's nice to have a weekend in which you do nothing.
I have barely left the apartment this weekend. I love it.
It's a break right before a busy four-day workweek. It's also a break before my next adventure.
For my next trip, I'll visit Portland, Oregon! My last trek to Portland was in 2019 when I spent a weekend in the city and stayed in a hostel in midtown. I enjoyed wandering around downtown on foot with my camera and getting a taste of a new place.
This time, a friend will host me and pick me up from the airport.
5/6 - Greetings from Portland. I drove 200 miles to Reno from Bishop and then flew to Portland from Reno. The Reno airport was strange because it was quiet; not many people were traveling early on Friday. I emerged from security oddly quickly. The TSA did not ask me to remove anything from my backpack, such as the laptop. That was weird to experience so little hassle while at an airport.
The journey to Portland was quick and painless. But here I am.
I was unprepared by how utterly, vibrantly, shockingly green it is in Portland. I’ve arrived in the middle of a springtime explosion of flowers. It’s wet and soggy from heavy downpours. I’ve seen a rainbow already. It has been a bit of a shock to the system, coming from a dry climate in the high desert where I’m used to seeing more subtle colors in the landscape; coming to Portland has felt a bit like having the lights turned on after my eyes adjusted to darkness.
Portland has been in the news over the past few years for violent protests in the streets. The National Guard came to the city in an effort to diffuse these protests I’ve come to a city with large homeless camps, expensive costs of living and heavy traffic. I learned yesterday that the city has a shortage of 1,000 police officers. You really have to watch yourself on the roadways because certain drivers know they can get away with driving recklessly. The city has its issues.
But my goodness is it colorful!
Until today.
A friend drove me through the Columbia River Gorge along Interstate 84, about 25 miles east of Portland. It was cloudy, soggy and chilly, but the weather didn’t subtract from the experience. This gorge, carved by floods thousands of years ago and formed with basalt rock, is home to some 80 waterfalls that empty into the Columbia River which marks the border between Oregon and Washington.
One of these was Multnomah Falls, a world-famous, nearly 700-foot, two-tiered waterfall. I had only ever seen this waterfall in photos before and like with all things humungous, pictures do not do it justice. Like the Grand Canyon, Zion National Park, the Eiffel Tower or Mt. Denali, pictures somehow diminish the size of the waterfall.
The power of Multnomah is immense. You can see it. You can hear it. You can feel it. The footpath and bridge are close enough that the spray from the bottom will soak you, like a water ride at an amusement park. Signs along the path warn visitors to stay alert for falling debris such as rock; they tell stories of a wedding in 1995 that was interrupted when a boulder the size of a bus broke off from the cliff and fell into the pool, creating a wave of water that knocked the wedding party off of its feet.
It’s a setting buzzing with the awesome power generated by Mother Nature herself.
During my time at Multnomah Falls, I was lucky enough to see the sun peak out from behind the clouds. Its light pierced the mist surrounding the waterfall and lit up the lower falls. I felt like the water began to sparkle with diamonds. I began to wonder if this was real. We only glimpse settings this dreamlike in films. As I went through the photos afterwards, I laughed. You can probably understand why:
Other waterfalls in the area aren’t as large, but they are no less pleasing. Latourrel Falls was the first my friend and I stumbled upon. This 249-foot tall waterfall sits in a setting that’s suspiciously perfect in every way. The landscape around it frames it well. The water crashes down an overhanging cliff made of basalt columns tinged with green from moss. The footpath leads to a small bridge crossing Latourrel Creek. My friend and I had this spot to ourselves and I laughed hysterically as I attempted to keep my camera lens dry long enough to get a quality photo. It was one of those magical moments one experiences only occasionally, resulting in an endorphin spike.
Another large waterfall was Horsetail Falls. The old Columbia River Highway runs so close to this beast that the spray reaches traffic. If you need a car wash, this is a good place to visit. On the bridge, the concrete rails closest to the water are coated in green moss, creating an interesting foreground for photos. Just keep an eye out for oncoming traffic.
I felt joy during this adventure in the Columbia River Gorge, like I was a kid again. Multiple times I loudly exclaimed at the sight of another waterfall, basalt rock wall or cliff side.
“Whoa!”
Most of all, I felt gratitude for having had the opportunity
to see this part of Oregon with my own eyes.
