July 25, 2007
When we left Ennis, MO. on Sunday morning, it was already getting hot, and by the time we arrived in Missoula, we hurried out of the sun into whatever shade we could find en route to restaurant and store. The far off mountain ranges were hazy with the smoke from multiple forest fires, and the nearer hills were golden brown and dry. As we drove, a subplot to our trip was listening to the book on CD, “The Worst Hard Time” by Timothy Egan, which had been highly recommended to us. The story formed a fine counterpoint to our visual experience as we passed the huge wheat fields in western Nebraska and eastern Wyoming. There were acres and acres of land lying fallow because of the lack of rains, and their surfaces appeared barren and gray. Since Egan’s book is based upon true tales by the survivors of this disastrous ecological event in our country’s history (The Great Dust Bowl of the 30’s), we had to stop listening to it every few chapters because the intensity was so great, we had to talk about it before we could go on. We finished it just as we were entering the green mountains; this wonderfully told story spoke of a time that touched both our families in Kansas and Iowa as well.
We continued our drive into Idaho on Highway #12 which followed the Clearwater River – the same route that Lewis and Clark took on their northwestern passage. Here, the heat and forest fire haze continued, but the scenery was breathtaking. The river was much wider than any we had experienced through the mountains, and the evergreens were tall and healthy. We spent the night in Orofino, a tidy little place tucked between the steep foothills leading up to steeper mountains. At first our plan had been to spend more time in this state and in eastern Oregon, but the heat and the touch of ash in the air made the cooler coast more inviting so we chose to go as directly west as possible.
The color that defined Monday, July 23 was gold. At first it was the darker bronze of dry grasses that covered the treeless rounded hills on both sides of the road, then huge wheat fields began to replace the grass, and we saw combines climbing in places that appeared too steep to accommodate the machines. These delivered sights of different shades of gold; the ripe grain was almost white, and the stubble was ridged with darker bronzes. There was very little traffic along the highway, but we did meet a troupe of Model A Fords coming over the hill one after another. Clad in shiny black coats with polished chrome and carried on dainty little tires, they looked like a procession of older ladies going out for a special occasion.
We followed the Columbia River on the north side – a lovely road that often went high up the side of the embankments. Far below on the surface of the water, people gathered to wind surf, and from where we could see them, they looked like giant dragonflies skimming across the river propelled by the wind in their brightly colored triangular sails. We spent the night in Portland, much cooler and pleased to finally wear the jackets we had packed. As we left the city, I did note a church sign that said, “Be ye fishers of men – you catch them, He’ll clean them.” It’s not a strictly Lutheran sentiment, the “you catch them” part, but perhaps one could be worked in as bait.
Today we took ourselves out to the coast to beautiful Highway 101. There are so many sights to see along this drive that you could spend a month going back and forth experiencing each State Park beach along the ocean or hiking on trails into the mountains. The trees near the coast are all leaning inland, for the wind is fierce and demands deep respect. Places like “Devil’s Punchbowl” and Cape Perpetua’s “Devil’s Churn” attempt to give title to the wildness of water and wind hitting the rocky coastline.
Tonight we are in Florence, where sand dunes are piled up in great heaps in back of the town. These travels are grand and my health is improving – I am beginning to hope for a lovely normal future. It is the first time in a long while that this has seemed remotely possible, but it is a fine, shiny thing to contemplate. To LIFE!