It is now July 13th and I left Ashland Oregon on June 28th on a mega journey to the coast of Maine and back.. But first a stop on my way to the  Columbia River Gorge in Salem OR to visit with my daughter and my grandkids, Kira and Connor.  After 2 fun filled days of pool swimming, good eats, grand dog walking and  an afternoon at the World Beat Celebration in the Riverfront Park in Salem, I bade good-bye to family at around 1:00 pm on Sunday the 30th.  I was headed off on  the “real” beginning of  an ambitious journey to visit the last six of the continental USA National Parks I had not yet been to. I would be out 63 days  with 36 of them tent camping  and of course no RV-ing for this former Girl Scout, Outward Bound graduate, and backpacker. I am hoping I don’t regret this stalwart attitude.  Given that I am staying in both USA and Canadian National Parks with no access to wi-fi and minimal if any cell coverage, posting blogs will be quite intermittent.

Since I would be traveling along the Columbia River Gorge, I wanted to visit Multnomah Falls, a very popular site along this corridor.  I was forewarned that there was quite  limited parking available.  So I secured a time entry permit that gives a specific hour you can enter the parking lot (though space availability was not guaranteed).   Driving the narrow highway heading east to reach the  falls,  I began to see cars parked along the road at all kinds of jaunty angles and pedestrians risking their life by walking along this squished road. I began to worry about parking. Just opposite the  entrance to the falls was a sign for parking and I didn’t know if this was the place I had reserved but when the  attendant said there was space and the parking fee was 20 dollars (this was a private lot). I figured  for $20.00 and a whole lot of convenience,  I would pony up the fee.

Being mid-summer and the week-end before July 4th,  I think half the population of Oregon decided to visit this falls and many taking the hike to the top of the falls. A very diverse cadre of people were all vying for a spot on the railing for a perfect photo op. I would join the mob but I knew realistically it was impossible to get the full height of the falls in a photo so even though I asked an individual to take a photo of me, it was awful but decided it was not necessary to prove that I indeed had been there.   There were hiking options and the hike up to the bridge was . 2 mile and then to the top 1 mile.  I was game…not really anticipating that not only people but signs often lie ( a national pastime at this point in history) and my rational brain did not engage enough to consider that perhaps hiking to the top of the falls was not the sanest of plans.

But not to be daunted, I trudged on up and up and up around the 11 switchbacks at the hottest part of the day with numerous hikers inquiring how old I was and was I really planning to hike to the top! It still didn’t register that perhaps I was probably taxing my body to its limits. Glad this wasn’t a 5K race as this 5K hike took 2 hours 17 minutes and a pace of 44’28” per mile The finish line would have been removed and the venue deserted.Once back at the trail head, i was exultant that I had the made a very wise decision of parking close. My legs were aching and spent.

 I headed down the historic Columbia River highway, made  a quick stop at Horsetail Falls, and on to The Dalles and a night in the Columbia River Hotel. I was patting myself on the back for cancelling my camping reservation along the gorge since the site description warned of the high noise volume there from the highway next door. The loud highway rumble was the background music  hiking to the top of the gorge. So I was glad for a comfy and nice quiet hotel room until I discovered the air conditioner did not work. Since I did not want to pack up and move to another room I decided to tough it out since I needed to “practice” dealing with the hot and cold temperature options I would encounter in my tent. Besides I was not sure I could walk one more step. The next morning I eased into the day by walking the grounds, observing  the Dalles and marveling at the clarity of the 11,217 feet Mt. Hood in the distance before I headed out to  travel  along this canyon that “houses” the Columbia River. 

The western gorge eco system of lush green forests gave way to a semi arid eco system — a mosaic of mostly treeless hills\ peppered with sagebrush, sporting an array of tans, golds, browns and rusts. There was a certain beauty to this National Scenic Area if you can reconcile the hydroelectric power plants serviced by the 4 dams (Bonnevile, The Dalles, John Day , McNary ) of this section of the gorge with the concomitant high voltage transmission lines. Additionally in the last few years the proliferation of wind power as a source electricity has resulted in this area of the grassy savannah of the Columbia Plateau being dotted with windmills. I often lament the price our planet pays for our relentless need not only to survive but to increase and multiply and grow the domestic product index the huge need to consume, consume, consume ad nauseam.

The destination on July 1st was Beauty Creek Campground in Coeur d’ Aline. So far the drive on this trip has been nerve racking. For expediency it was necessary to take the Interstates which were abuzz with every assortment of cars, regular semi-trucks, semi’s with two or three trailers, wide-loads, self contained RV’s, RV’s pulling boats, 4 wheelers and an array of other conveyance. All were very much in a hurry to get some where or to start their vacation now. I, who promised myself to follow the speed limit on this trip, was the “little old lady” driving the Model-T surpassed by almost all but a very few other Model-T drivers. When I hit Kennewick heading up into Washington I was forever grateful that I did not have a Model T but an SUV with a screen upon which my iPhone displays the iMap route I selected and Siri tells me step by step the distance and which lane to be in…I have no idea how I would have negotiated the lanes and interchange that i would encounter to head up to Spokane. I have no desire to drive through the maze of horribly designed interchanges in Kennewick WA. ever again. I recall the AAA Triptiks of days of yore but one really needs a navigator who can understand maps and has a good sense of direction…but i guess back then there were less travelers and less complicate interchanges – mostly stop and go lights!!!! Once I neared Spokane the traffic was less frenetic and I was entering mountainous terrain and gaining a bit in elevation and arrived at Coeur d’Aline Beauty Creek Campground around 5:45.

I was pleasantly surprise to find #19 at the end of the line, with plenty of distance between campsites and nature’s “privacy screens” of thick vegetation and trees.  Reserving a campsite online is a crapshoot.  What you hope you are getting and what you actually get are often two different things.   I won at craps this time since many of the sites were in an open field. Though I reserved a creekside site, Beauty Creek was no beauty and no creek but a dry bed of stones and decaying logs,   This was to be my first go at setting up my campsite – new tent, new cot etc. and I was racing against an ominous looking sky ready to dump. I fumbled about but eventually managed while encountering only a few spatters of rain.  My weary body said enough.  Tonight is not the night to cook a hot meal.  So began the challenge of how to organize all of my necessary and not so necessary stuff in the tent and what stuff would rest better in the car. It began by tossing everything in all direction all over the car  which I had so meticulously organized prior to departures. The upside was I was able to select only the necessary items for this one night stand and not have to drown inside the tent in my piles of stuff. I’d like to report that I slept well in my new digs with my traveling Squishmallow., Banks the Badger. Banks loves to camp.