Post Cards......

Posting from: Van Wormers
October 18, 2006

I searched through the selection of post cards at the Flying J today trying to find one that showed Mt. Hood barely visible through a low layer of clouds and drizzle, the highway wet with reflecting pools of water and yellow Aspen leaves laying still in the branches of towering firs. Post cards don't depict the numerous volcanic cones scattered through central Oregon through the windshield wipers either, nor can they capture the million drops of mist thrown off by a passing truck that seem to go on forever.

And yet there is a subdued beauty to a moist, early winter landscape. Rain dampens the hues of the yellow and burnt orange leaves clinging to the trees, while on the other hand it darkens and adds a slick beauty to the exposed lava flows and towering layers of columnar basalt, evidence of a violent and active past. I smiled as I noticed the wispy delicacy of a few golden Tamaracks in the higher elevations as I had not seen this beautiful tree in its Fall glory since leaving Manitoulin Island two years ago. It is the one conifer that drops its needles in the Fall and those I saw today were etherial in the rain- tall, symmetrical and lonely.

We did not travel far today - it took awhile to settle up with one of the businesses that helped us out yesterday and then Portland slowed us down abit. Such a large, impressive city with so many bridges spanning the mighty Columbia River. We refueled the truck and soon relaxed as we gained confidence that our troubles of yesterday were in the past. The oil filter was installed properly this time and so we had no need to worry. The gauges stayed in their places! The far off peaks called the Three Sisters showed occasionally through the clouds but all in all I had plenty of time to read to Lee about the geologic history of the region and the theory of the asteroid collision with the earth which eliminated 90 percent of animal life from this planet including the dinosaurs.

Tonight we find ourselves in an Oregon State Park near Bend, Oregon. The gentle rain on the roof is barely audible and is in stark contrast to the noisy, pebble like rain that fell off the Douglas Firs that towered over our camper in Snohomish. You can get too much of a good thing and I seem to open my mouth and get caught. I mentioned to Lee that I loved hearing rain on a camper roof - it was peaceful and comforting. Little did I know that under a Douglas Fir the rain collects on the branches until it gets so heavy it drops, making the sound a pebble might make if dropped from quite a height. Nethter of us slept much as we got pummeled by pebbles all night long. Reminds me of the time we camped 50 feet from a railroad track in Indiana. A road crossed the tracks right outside the campground so of course the whistle blew long and hard , every hour all night long as it rumbled behind us. So much for loving the sound of trains:)

I don't hear rain on the roof now so we're hoping the skies clear for our trip to Crater Lake tomorrow.

Love,

Nancy and Lee