Sat 17 – Sun 18 Aug 2019
After an eight-hour spell of overnight rain, we packed up our sodden tent whilst wearing full waterproofs and drove south from our delightful, much-loved Winston Creek campground to the Columbia River Gorge at the state border between Washington and Oregon. At Vancouver (Washington’s, not Canada’s), we crossed to the south side of the river then headed eastwards along the Oregon side.
[Use arrows or swipe to scroll photos.] Portland Women’s Forum State Scenic Viewpoint, where we enjoyed raw corn-on-the-cob as part of our lunch.
We soon found a roadside stall where we were able to buy blueberries, cucumber and corn-on-the-cob (to eat sweet and raw), then stopped for a picnic lunch at the drily named but beautifully situated Portland Women’s Forum State Scenic Viewpoint overlooking the Columbia River Gorge.
For the remainder of the afternoon, we moseyed eastwards by car, frequently stopping for short walks to view the many famous waterfalls, such as Bridal Veil Falls, Wahkeena Falls, Multnomah Falls, Oneonta Falls, Horsetail Falls and Ponytail Falls.
Multnomah Falls are the tallest and most popular falls but, being a Saturday, parking was a nightmare and the throngs of visitors when we got there rather took the edge off the falls’ majesty. We parked some distance away and walked to the falls. On the way, May bent to stroke a fluffy, cute-looking dog that passed her on a lead. It immediately snarled and snapped and had her scurrying away. Soon after, she passed a tiny chihuahua – you’ve never seen someone give such a wide berth to so miniature an animal!
Our personal favourite were Ponytail Falls. Tucked high up a short, steep path behind the roadside Horsetail Falls, and themselves invisible from the road, the path finally circled round the waterfall pool to a natural rock undercut, enabling visitors to pass behind these magical falls.
As well as the scenic road that we travelled, and the large waterway, the Columbia River Gorge also supports other transport links in the form of a railway line (primarily for freight) and a main interstate (motorway). Near the thundering waterfalls, you aren’t aware of the interstate or anything other than the falling water.
The railway has around 60 trains per day, almost all of them mile-long freight trains. Yet you don’t so much hear them as feel the distant vibrations of the rails as the huge trains approach (if, as one family was, you are posing on the fully accessible rails for a group photo!). We became mesmerised as we counted carriages – first, a train of 2 engines and 82 carriages, and then a train of 4 engines and 149 carriages.
Having succeeded at Dave’s first two competitions for the USA leg of our trip, the girls decided to put extra focus into his third and final competition to identify at least 100 words that are either different or spelt differently in British and American English – e.g., nappy/diaper or colour/color (but not words with the same spelling but a different pronunciation, e.g., lever). They had been stuck at around 65 words for some time now and were told that going up to ask people was cheating: they had to keep their own eyes and ears open.
Time was getting on and we hadn’t found anywhere to stay and didn’t look set to find anywhere on the heaving south side of the river in the middle of a summer weekend. So we decided to cross back into Washington state on the north side of the river and try our luck there. We made the crossing at the Hood River Bridge, marvelling at kite surfers with huge sails in every colour looking like giant, painted toenail clippings eddying up and around in the stiff breeze.
On the quieter north side of the river, we saw two or three campgrounds that mutated into gypsy encampments as we approached. Then, at last (about level with The Dalles on the south side of the river), there was a sign for a campground called Horsethief Lake ... unfortunately, accompanied with a ‘Full’ sign. In desperation, we decided to drive down regardless in case they could recommend somewhere nearby or had an overflow field (we had no requirement for electric power, so could tuck in anywhere they might have space).
Seeing our predicament and that we had children with us, only required a single night and time was getting on, the campsite host kindly allowed us to camp in one of the two bicycle/hiker sites on the basis that no cyclists or hikers were likely to turn up now.
[Use arrows or swipe to scroll photos.] Beautiful setting of Horsethief Lake campground, and the view from and of our tent. Yet nothing comes between a girl and her make-up!
Horsethief Lake campground was very scenic, surrounded with distinctive, dry, rocky bluffs and brittle, yellow grass (although green grass on the campground), with a pale stick insect climbing up our tent strings. The main feature of the area, however, was the incredibly blustery wind. Dave can normally pitch the tent by himself if someone helps him for the first couple of minutes, but this time it required two extra people to cling to the tent continuously until it was fully pitched.
On the plus side, I strung up a washing line between two trees and got our wet things from this morning dried within 5 minutes and the tent, still wet from last night’s rain, dried moments after being put up. Furthermore, the campsite had hot showers included in the price, so all four of us had what was only our third shower since arriving in the USA ten days before.
Cooking in the strong, gusting wind was a challenge. May suggested that we stand our single-ring gas stove inside the firepit for some wind protection and Poppy sat holding an umbrella a short (but safe) distance upwind to stop the flame from blowing out during proceedings, consequently developing quite a nasty backache. The tap water in the standpipes was very cloudy, so we decided to use it only for washing up and to eke out the water we still had left in our water containers for drinking and cooking.
The campsite was close to a freight train route, with heavy trains rattling past periodically until well after midnight, accompanied by long, blasting (but melodious) whistles and loudly squealing wheels – yet we could barely hear the trains above the noise of the ferocious wind, and slept soundly cocooned inside our tent.
Next morning, a couple of minutes after 5:30 a.m., I woke to the sound of the first freight train of the new day, which told me that the wind must have dropped – indeed, it was now merely a strong but pleasant breeze. Around three minutes later, a symphony of hidden water sprinklers started up just out of reach of our tent (and continued until at least 9:30 a.m., when we left the site).
No wonder the campground grass was so lushly green despite the yellow dryness of the surroundings, and thank goodness we hadn’t chanced to pitch our tent any further towards the sprinklers last night, otherwise we’d have had a wet tent to carry on again today. As it was, we enjoyed breakfast with easy water boiling in the firepit (no umbrella required for wind shelter), whilst taking in the beautiful surrounding views.
We de-camped, then headed literally around the corner to an interesting array of tribal petroglyphs, thousands of years old, that had been moved several times in recent years from their original home on the valley floor near Roosevelt.
[Use arrows or swipe to scroll photos.] Tribal petroglyphs near Horsethief Butt and Horsethief Lake.
Firstly, they were moved in the late 1950s to avoid them being submerged under the reservoir that was created when the John Day Dam was built on the Columbia River – although many thousands of petroglyphs were left behind to meet their fate.
Many of the rocks thereafter resided in ‘Petroglyph Park’ on the valley side, adjacent to State Route 14 about 49 miles east from here, others at various inauspicious sites, such as in a gravel-fenced area under a fish ladder near the dam, and some were vandalised and defaced.
At the repeated request of the four Columbia River Treaty Tribes, and after much co-ordination and dedicated effort, the petroglyphs were finally rehomed in 2003 to this more fitting, peaceful, natural environment, far more respectful of their sacred significance as messages from the Ancestors.
I’d have liked to have stayed in this wonderful spot for longer, but the girls didn’t want to hang around, having already spotted a sign saying ‘rattlesnake area’. Besides, we needed to press on.
We headed 18 miles east to cross the Columbia River back into Oregon at Biggs Junction. At the turn-off for the bridge, near Maryhill, we noticed a sign for a Stonehenge replica just 1¾ miles away and, living just 15 miles or so from the original Stonehenge on England’s Salisbury Plain, we were intrigued. We decided to allow ourselves one more brief foray off our route to investigate this unexpected structure.
[Use arrows or swipe to scroll photos.] Maryhill’s Stonehenge military memorial, view of Mount Hood from the memorial, and the original Stonehenge.
It turned out to be a military memorial, the nation’s first World War 1 memorial – a complete Stonehenge replica erected in honour of those locally who had died, heroism and peace, the alter stone dedicated on 4th July 1918 and the structure fully completed in 1929. Unlike the original, 5000-year-old Stonehenge, the replica is fully intact, with an amazing view down the Columbia River valley and across to the snow-capped volcano of Mount Hood in the middle distance. Owing to a range of tiny alignment, altitude and latitude factors, however, it is difficult to use as an astronomical calendar like the original – you have to admit that those ancients from England really knew what they were doing.
We finally crossed back south into Oregon and headed for the hills ... the Painted Hills, that is.
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From our last few days of travels, I’d finally had some inspiration on where I might hide the little guy (painted rock) from the back of the car, once we returned to the UK. Indeed, if you’d like to find out where the little guy ended up, you might enjoy the clues in my ‘hidden rock’ quiz (see bottom of ‘Travel Tips’ page on this website). Perhaps the little rock is still there, and you’ll be the next person to find and re-hide it.
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