Tag Archives: Columbia River

Denial Gets A Comeuppance

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, distraction issues, Hiking and Nature, Historical, impediments, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

July 26, 2023, Grants Pass, OR-

I was told, some time ago, that the homeless community along Washington State’s southern tier had been removed, by sending the lot across the Columbia River, to Portland. Being skeptical that this is even something that could be pulled off, without a whimper from a city that was already choking with a large unhoused community in its downtown and other neighbourhoods, the last time I visited (2015), I went to Vancouver (WA) this morning, after checking out of the motel in Kelso.

Vancouver, not to be confused with the much-larger city in British Columbia, has a lovely park along the Columbia River, and pleasant, clean downtown and uptown sections. It also has the manicured Fort Vancouver, a well-maintained National Park site, whose historic homes are leased to residents and businesses. Living wherever they can put up tents, usually in nooks and crannies along the Columbia, are the remnants of the unhoused community, admittedly smaller than those of Portland, Seattle or Tacoma, but in Vancouver, nonetheless. Denial of a problem will never make it go away. Whoever passed that information along to people down at my Home Base, in Prescott had probably not been to Vancouver.

I took a walking loop to the banks of the Columbia, then around to Esther Short Park, after first enjoying a vanilla latte at Brewed, a small, but efficient coffee shop, combined with a bar and small bakery, on Main Street. Not far from Brewed, there is a parking lot with murals on two of the walls.

The Skagit, Yamhill, and other nations, have not lost their dignity.
Nor, for that matter, have the Hispanics who come here for agricultural work.
The African-American community here seems small, but holds its own.
Columbia River, at I-5 Bridge, Vancouver.
“Boat of Discovery”, commemorating the visit here, by Captain George Vancouver’s fleet.
A long wall emanates from this plaza, honouring veterans of all “foreign” conflicts, from the War of 1812 to Iraq and Afghanistan.
Clock Tower, Esther Short Park. The park was being readied for a special event, when I happened by.

Having a couple of errands to do, across the river, I gave myself an hour to explore Fort Vancouver. The post was established to safeguard U.S. control of the mouth of the Columbia River-with .British, Russian and Spanish claims not fully resolved.

Here is the flag staff, in the midst of the parade ground.
This was a serious parade ground!
Grant House, intended for use by Ulysses S. Grant, when he was stationed here, in the 1850s. He never lived in this mansion, on Officers’ Row.
Here is a view of the Enlisted Barracks, south of the Parade Grounds.
These cannons were replicated, from descriptions of the originals, by local high school students, from 1990-92. They are owned by the City of Vancouver, which supplied the materials.
This was the residence of General O.O. Howard, the post commander from 1874-80.
The Artillery Barracks-It struck me that this could house a lot of people.
Non-commissioned Officer’s Housing
Marshall House, home to General George C. Marshall, during his duty here, prior to World War II.

This pavilion honours the Chinese diaspora to Oregon and Washington. Chinese immigrants faced horrific treatment in the Pacific Northwest, during the late Nineteenth, and much of the Twentieth, Centuries.

After leaving Vancouver, I made my way across the bridge to Portland, getting my Pastini fix, with a late lunch at the Italian food chain’s Northeast Portland branch. Then, it was time to locate and purchase a new adapter, to house my photo SIM card and post these and other scenes. It took me all over North Portland. At one point, I stopped in front of a crosswalk, so that a young lady could cross. One would have thought I had held up the President, for the insistent beeping from behind me. The lady shot a dignified, but definitely disapproving, glance at the impatient motorist and gave me a gentle smile.

The shop I eventually found was a Best Buy, on the far northeast side. Its location afforded a fairly lightly-trafficked way out of Portland, so I missed all but a small amount of rush hour. Still ahead, however, was the large influx of participants, family members and spectators at the Junior Olympics, which I learned was being held in Eugene, Springfield, Albany, Corvallis and Roseburg. All of those cities’ accommodations were either occupied or were priced exorbitantly by the Law of Supply and Demand. After gassing up in Eugene, I made my way down to Grants Pass, and got a reasonably-priced overflow room. My last thoughts of the day, though, are wishes for the kids to be successful at their sport-and more importantly, to have a good experience.

The Road to 65, Mile 206: Evergreen Crossings, Day 4- Cascades and Coulees

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Posted by on in Hiking and Nature, Social, Travel

June 22, 2015, Wilbur, WA- The day started with getting laundry done, in Monroe, at one of the more expensive laundromats I’ve seen in a while.  It uses an Easy Card, so the fare is purchased in advance, for  laundry supplies, washer and dryer.  I did everything in one load,as is my wont, when on the road.

I passed Travelers Park, before turning right onto Highway 2 East.

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On the way out of town, I gave a short ride to three people, who my intuition said, correctly, were good risks.  They had no interest in me, other than to know why I was here, from Arizona- a reasonable query of a stranger.  Eight miles further, I let them off, at a place called Gold Bar.

My next stop, however, was a tough little town called Skykomish, which has about 500 people who still support a weekly bus service to Monroe and have their own school district.  It was founded as a rail stop, by routing engineer John Stevens, for whom nearby Stevens Pass is named. This old building used to be Skykomish Hotel.

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The rest of the town also has a frontier air about it, still.

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I had lunch (leftover lasagna) at a picnic table facing the main street. Then, it was on to Deception Falls.

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This popular trail, at the foot of Stevens Pass, offers the three cascades of Deception Creek.

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Note the relative purity of the water.

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The trees provide variety in the scenery, especially as they lean,

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serve as springboard stumps,

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or act as nesting pots for new trees.

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or, still as a place to drive piles.

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Meanwhile,back at the falls:

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There was a plenitude of visitors, yet much of the time, I found myself alone, as most people gathered at two overlooks.

The road led next to Leavenworth, not the Federal prison, but the touristy mountain community, about forty minutes from Wenatchee.  The Wenatchee River is a major comfort, for locals and visitors alike.

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I stopped just long enough to walk along the river a bit, and to buy some coffee from a local grinder, Square 15.  It was to be a gift for my friends in Reno. The faux Bavarian scene can be taken in small doses.

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I stopped in Wenatchee,for about two hours, long enough to marvel at the clear air (compared to the smoke which brought me here in prayerful service, three years ago) and to enjoy a fine Hispanic-fusion meal, courtesy of two friends.

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I shall send them some Arizona treats, very soon.

The rest of the evening entailed driving down from the central Cascades, and into the western edge of the Great Basin.  Some outlying areas reminded me of the Great Plains.  There are patches of desolation.

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There is a worrisome dryness.

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The coulees of the Columbia River, and its tributaries, provide irrigation water, regulated by a series of dams.

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One of these is Dry Falls Dam, about a mile south of Grand Coulee.

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No, that’s not a fresh-water dolphin, in the river above.

I settled in on a grassy patch, at a little RV park called Country Corners, and slept fairly well, except there was this event called Aurora Borealis, and my tired self couldn’t leap out of the sleeping bag and take a shot or two.  Perhaps one or two of you saw it.

The Road to 65, Mile 185: Northwestward, Day 6- Portland’s Moveable Feast

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Posted by on in Hiking and Nature, Travel

June 1, 2015, Portland- The City of Roses is a foodie’s paradise.  Between the food trucks, which are everywhere, and the great brick and mortar eateries, one could easily pack on 50-100 pounds, with a smile.  Of course, the city is also a walker’s paradise- and the pounds would just as quickly melt away, if one were to indulge in the natural wealth of the hills above the Columbia River, at its confluence with the Willamette.

I took a light breakfast at Econolodge, this morning.  That’s a good thing, as one of my Portland favourites, Laughing Planet Cafe, is cattycorner from that motel.  The White Bean soup hit the spot at lunchtime, on this most typically Northwestern, drizzly day.

Afternoon brought me back to Washington Park, for a few reprise shots of, what else, roses.

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These exuberant specimens show that the Experimental Rose Garden should have a banner year.

I visited the Vietnam Veterans Memorial, in Hoyt Arboretum, as well.  It is a pristine and dignified tribute to those contemporaries of mine who did not make it back alive, and those whose remains lie there, still.

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The path spirals to the top of a small ridge, from whence to more completely appreciate this serene memorial.

After reflecting some on the basic goodness that my generation still manages to show, for the most part, I took the Wildwood Trail, to the park’s southwestern corner, before ambling back to the Rose Garden.

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This is the area that Lewis and Clark trod, looking much as they probably found it.

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I also managed a downtown walkabout, from Pioneer Square to the Pearl District.  Here is Old Chinatown.

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The lions are said to make troublemakers think twice about entering.

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Pioneer Square is well-festooned with roses, and other flora.

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After my photo shoots, two things remained.  Dinner at Pastini brought me their vegetable barley soup and baked manicotti. No Tiramisu, this time, though; I want  to refrain from capsizing the ferry from Bellingham to Wrangell, a few days hence. 😛

I spent about a half hour at Powell’s City of Books.  It is a given that I must make a pilgrimage there, much as I go to Boulder Books, when in the Front Range.  The little novel for which I looked was not there- it’s been distributed independently.  I can scarcely imagine a book not being in Powell’s, but there you have it.

The rain came down in buckets, as I headed out of town, and crossed the great Columbia, into Vancouver, WA.  With heavy traffic headed into that historic city, I kept to the left and drove on to Chehalis, a gateway to Mount Rainier and Mount St. Helens, neither of which I will be seeing up close, on this journey.

My Alaska ferry ticket is purchased, and on Friday, I will be beginning two weeks on the Marine Highway.