Columbia River Gorge and Mt Hood

Catching up on a few snaps from last week's travels near Mt Hood and the Columbia River Gorge.

Floating on the horizon like so much baked Alaska, 

Mt Hood at first appears to be clouds.

Overused, but the only word that springs to mind when traveling alongside the Columbia River Gorge: awesome.

Shamelessly quoting from a regional website...

Mt. Hood is the highest point in Oregon, not so much a mountain as an active volcano and the crown jewel of the Columbia River Gorge, an area seemingly designed by the gods of outdoor recreation. Mt. Hood’s slopes beg to be climbed, skied, snowboarded and hiked. Its many lakes and rivers cry out to be canoed, swum and fished. Its foothills offer orchards, farms full of fresh ingredients and exotic wildflowers.

The mighty Columbia invites windsurfing, sailing, parasailing and hang-gliding across itself. And when the day is done, be sure to enjoy the charming towns, hand-crafted beers and spirits, and hot tubs of Mt. Hood’s endless cabins. Or kick back at the WPA-built Timberline Lodge, which overlooks all of it.

Exploded Heater Hose Leads to Blogging on Shoulder of Oregon I84

All Art could say was: better here with a large get-off shoulder...

...than here, where we were ten minutes ago, cruising adjacent to the mighty Columbia River Gorge.

Officer Friendly from the Oregon State Police stopped to see if we needed help. Nice

He even got under the hood. Art's gonna cut the hose and reattach. I'm writing to you to distract myself from the traffic going by at 65 mph. All is well. I'm off to flashlight duty.

Our Daily Bread: Bakery and Books

I am such a romantic. Seeing the sign on the tiny painted house I thought to myself: how true! Books feed the soul and bakery—well, for me it’s an occasional true indulgence. The real message of this sign never occurred.

I imagine Carolina’s tiny biblioteque in Mexico, where you can coze into a chair with a vast array of book choices. Plus the bakery in this case. Art turns the truck around so we can go back and investigate.

The bakery portion of this establishment was solid, I’ll give her that: mile-high cream cheese frosting on carrot cake, the breads and cookies. 

The book portion? Not so much.

I’m peering at the scant choices on the shelves when she comes in to say: I’ve chosen most of these from my missionary books.

 

Right.

As Art pays for copious amounts of sugar to go, I’m tempted to ask her if she really thinks evolution is not true.

But instead I return to the truck with a pillow-light yeast dough sticky bun.

She got that right, anyway.