Day 1
Better late than never
We were so close on timing. The van’s Friday arrival was part of the problem, but in truth, we were waiting on it. We could have prepped more, but instead we built piles, mostly in the middle of different rooms, demanding that life could not exist in the same space as our half-preparation for this trip.
The last two days had us slowly peeling our stuff into the van, finding a way for it all to fit and hopefully do so intelligently. I mostly worked outside, doing the last of the fit out that I could, while Cindy prepped much of the inside. By 10PM we were toast. I could barely walk, because my long-grumpy back threw up its hands when I moved the miter saw for one last cut of the L Track. Cindy had been trying to fit fifty pounds of sand into a ten pound sack for days on end, and the game of Jenga wore her down.
Our last conversation of the eve of our exit was whether we could actually leave the next day. We knew we would miss our appointed hour of 9am, but were afraid pushing it by a day would have us twiddling thumbs for half a day. Plus we’d already signed up a house sitter. Kinda lame to have someone plan to come over while you’re gone and then not leave, eh?
We finally made it out by 2:20. The night before I’d figured between 12 and 2, so I was pretty close. We had a last-minute scare when we failed to find the GPS I had cleverly stored in a very accessible location none of us could find, but soldiered on nonetheless.
The weather was perfect. Manageably hot, and manageably bright. I failed to fill the tank before leaving, so we stopped right outside of town, and happened to run into a couple of Outside Van employees fueling up for a delivery of a fancy new ride. They left while I was assessing the facilities, and we were on our way.
The Columbia Gorge is stunning, whatever your reason for being there. The anxiety of a 63 day trip — as opposed to planning for one — hit us right about the time we passed Multnomah Falls, which was full to the gills. Most of our trips end about this far from home, but today this was the merest shadow of the trip. Our eyes bounced between the river, the Osprey circling overhead, and the road, ever anon.
As our GPS informed us of an 8:45pm arrival time to our campsite, we decided that dinner (not being optional) suggested we overnight at LaGrande instead of Farewell Bend state park. This allowed us to meet friends for dinner in Pendleton, which worked out perfectly except that it took two and a half hours, most of which was spent with six children who hadn’t eaten. And you thought the road was tough.
Delicious, albeit slow
The Columbia Gorge is stunning, but it’s most so when the sun is threatening to disappear but just can’t quite let go. We ascended the Blue Mountains, continually climbing while the sun was descending. This was particularly interesting because the two directions of I-84 split in a peculiar way, and as you twist up the mountain each reflective surface takes its turn blinding you with a pinch of the sun’s rays. At each turn you are encouraged to look around, but punished for doing so.
We rocked into our hotel at just about exactly full dark. We tried out our new system of organizing by use rather than person, and were able to fit all of our gear into one overnight bag (plus one backpack per person, plus one camera case for ahem the family). Not perfect, but far better than when we loaded four bags and a fridge, before we had our house batteries, solar panel, and more intelligent packing system.
Our hopes of a stressful end of school year leading to early bed time were dashed on the rock of twin rivalry, but eventually all was quiet except the AC fan in our fancy Best Western. Sorry. Our fancy Best Western Plus.
No turning back now.
