RETIREMENT TRIP #7

Along the Mighty Columbia
                                                                     The view from the patio outside our room at Mountain View Motel and RV Park in Joseph, Oregon, was breath-taking at 6:30 a.m.  Mountains, the Wallowa, rose majestically with remnants of last winter’s snow, and horses grazed peacefully in an adjoining field.  I thought of the Nez Perce and their beautiful land.  No wonder they were willing to fight to protect its sanctity.  I thought of Old Chief Joseph too who said, “I believe much trouble would be saved if we opened our hearts more.”

Oregon State Parks are open to the public and usually free.

We followed the Wallowa River west along route #82 toward La Grande.  “It’s already hunting season,” said Andy, when we saw an orange and yellow-vested man cross the road and disappear into a pine grove.  Several pullouts highlighted Oregon scenic wonders, and State Parks offered recreational outlets.  We stopped for photographs and took in the glorious mountain vistas.
A huge plateau of rich farmland opened up as we went up in elevation.  Ranches with fields of wheat, barley and hay spread in every direction outside the little western-looking town of Elgin on the La Ronde Grande River.  Here, the planting seemed more scientific with contoured fields and even signs that suggested removal of invasives.  “Is this Spanish or French?” asked Andy.
“No accent on the ‘e’ would suggest French,” I told him.

Beautiful Historic Arch Bridge
seems like someone's payoff!

“And the Spanish didn’t come this far north,” he added.  “It was French trappers here so many years ago.”
The “Historic Arch Bridge” protected a bridge on the old highway,.  We exited Route #84 to check out the sight. 
“Somebody got paid off for that one!” I joked. 


Everywhere windmills reach skyward, churning and
turning to produce electricity.

Andy agreed. Since the turnout followed the old highway a couple miles in and the arched bridge to absolutely nowhere had been totally repaired with a viewing park created nearby.Outside of Meacham, we saw evidence of logging at the 4,193-foot elevation.  “That’s about as high as the Catskills in New York,” said Andy, “and they must get a lot of snow here from the looks of the trees.”  All along the road we saw chain-up signs, and Andy said he had read that the highway we had taken yesterday out of Hells Canyon was open only for skiers and snow mobile riders from October 30 through May 30.

The mighty Columbia River carries people and good deep
into the interior of the country.

Pendleton was one huge traffic jam because of the Round-up Rodeo and parade. We left as quickly as we could, which anything but quickly!  On the other side of the city the rolling yellow grass hills stretched without a tree to the horizon as far as the eye could see.
Outside of Boardman, Route #84 met the Columbia River.  Huge and wide and blue, the mighty Columbia looked more like a lake.  The brown, dry hills formed an incredible contrast to the blue water.  Across the highway, a wind farm of windmills churned away.  What clean and powerful and cost effective sources of hydro and wind energy for electricity!


Taking pictures is a "snap," now that we've figured
out how to use the timer on the camera! 

We didn’t anticipate heading to Biggs with views of Mount Hood and crossing the Columbia River into the state of Washington, but a mix-up in motel reservations in Joseph inspired a quick change in plans.  Happily that meant a visit to Maryhill Winery and a bottle of Riesling, while a live band played cool jazz.  Oldsters with a huge assortment of dogs on leashes filled the patio that overlooked an outdoor concert courtyard.  Mount Hood rose majestically in the distance, still dominating the landscape some 30 miles away with snow-covered slopes. We chose our bottle of Riesling and sat on the deck, enjoying the music.  Then we headed to Maryhill to stroll around the grounds and sculpture gardens.

An almost-exact replica of the original, Stonehenge honors
those from Klinkitat County who died in World War I.

Our next stop, Stonehenge, honored and remembered the deceased veterans of World War I from Klinkitat County, Washington.  Plaques to each with birth and death dates (1915-1918) lined the inner columns.  Nearby citizens had erected a World War II, Korean, Vietnam, and Afghanistan War Memorial.
A hot breeze swept across the hills, reminding us that summer wasn’t gone yet.

Here Stonehenge is a memorial
more than a cultural symbol.

 Hundreds of stately white wind turbines graced the scree slopes surrounding the John Day Dam on the Columbia River.  The white of the windmills and the concrete dam and the deep blue of the river lent a vivid contrast to the yellow-brown hills and black lava outcroppings.

From the Washington side, the John
Day Dam spans the Columbia.

We drove back to Broadman along the Washington side of the Columbia, admiring the thousands of wind turbines whirling away on both sides of the mighty water.  We passed acre upon acre of grape vines and peach orchards that accented the yellow grass terrain.  The Oregon side was too rocky and steep to sustain such farming.  But here in Washington the fruit industry thrived.