Thanksgiving is an odd holiday if you think about it. We all make this pact that on this one day, wherever you are, you must gather with others--often travelling great distances to do so--in order to sit down and have one meal together. And we all seem to adhere it.
But I’ve never been one for conforming to the masses.
Instead, I used others’ desire to do so to my advantage.
Sleeping in (since we don’t need to start hikes at 6am to avoid hot weather), I waited till noon, when I suspected most people would already by at their perspective gathering places, and drove to the first natural touristy spot that I assumed would be crowded every other minute of every other day: Vista Point.
I was rewarded with easy parking and only a few families still out and about before settling in for their long afternoon of eating and holiday cheer.
There were a few too many people around to get great sweeping photographs of the Columbia Gorge, but at least I was able to get a couple of shots sans humans.
But I’ve never been one for conforming to the masses.
Instead, I used others’ desire to do so to my advantage.
Sleeping in (since we don’t need to start hikes at 6am to avoid hot weather), I waited till noon, when I suspected most people would already by at their perspective gathering places, and drove to the first natural touristy spot that I assumed would be crowded every other minute of every other day: Vista Point.
I was rewarded with easy parking and only a few families still out and about before settling in for their long afternoon of eating and holiday cheer.
There were a few too many people around to get great sweeping photographs of the Columbia Gorge, but at least I was able to get a couple of shots sans humans.
And Tucker got to enjoy the views too, thanks to some conveniently located spy-holes in the architectural design.
Of course I still tried to get proper photos of Tucker with the landscape, to which he got a smidge irritated after so many attempts.
We had passed the trailhead for Water Line Road trail along the way, and while I didn’t care to do the hike which consisted of just walking down a hill to the train tracks and then walking back up hill, I did want to check out the trailhead itself: the Portland Women’s Forum State Scenic Viewpoint. Its name is a mouthful. Abbreviating it doesn’t make it any better: PWFSSV.
Figuring there would be even fewer people there than at Vista Point, once we finished up our walk around the Vista Point building and Tucker tired of my photo shoot, we headed to the Scenic Viewpoint.
In my quest for a non-crowded Thanksgiving, I succeeded. Only a few cars were in the vast parking lot that sloped downhill toward the overlook of the river.
The first thing I noted was the little white dome downriver: that is Vista Point. Grey up close but white in the sparkling sunshine from afar, rather than being a place to view from, it became part of the view itself.
Figuring there would be even fewer people there than at Vista Point, once we finished up our walk around the Vista Point building and Tucker tired of my photo shoot, we headed to the Scenic Viewpoint.
In my quest for a non-crowded Thanksgiving, I succeeded. Only a few cars were in the vast parking lot that sloped downhill toward the overlook of the river.
The first thing I noted was the little white dome downriver: that is Vista Point. Grey up close but white in the sparkling sunshine from afar, rather than being a place to view from, it became part of the view itself.
A plague commemorated Gertrude Glutsch Jensen for protecting this land was off to the side. In 1956, this little plot was bought by the Portland Women’s Forum, a group of women active in politics and civil evolution. It seems that when it comes to the preservation and protection of land, animals, and the world as a whole, the movement is usually led by women. Or sometimes, depending on taboos of the time, it is led by women behind the men that society deems acceptable to create change. Don’t get me wrong, there have been men who have stood for the protection of Mother Nature (such as John Muir and Bob Hunter), and I applaud them. But it just seems like women, overall, have spearheaded the efforts to keep this world turning.
After appreciating the view, Gertrude, and all the women did (and still do) for Mother Nature, we headed down off the mountain to Red Rooster State Park for a walk along the River we had been admiring from afar for the past few hours.
After appreciating the view, Gertrude, and all the women did (and still do) for Mother Nature, we headed down off the mountain to Red Rooster State Park for a walk along the River we had been admiring from afar for the past few hours.
There are parts of the river where one can be even closer to nature than usual, and shed your manmade skins to be as nature made you.
Being a tad chilly out, I wondered if anyone was taking advantage of this. I certainly was not.
Tucker and I carried on along the river, getting a few peeks of the river but mostly walking along the flat leaf-lined trail though the woods.
Tucker and I carried on along the river, getting a few peeks of the river but mostly walking along the flat leaf-lined trail though the woods.
Down by the river proper, after getting through some rocky trail areas,
We reached the shores.
Maybe it was the lighting, but the golden aspens and sparsely covered trees (evidently clothing optional for plantlife as well), it didn’t seem like we were in the Pacific Northwest anymore. It felt more like the south or eastern seaboard, like Virginia or North Carolina. Of course, once back in North Carolina, I will be reminded exactly how small their mountains are, and how majestically tall the gorge’s rock walls actually are.
Tucker and I climbed a short ridge to get back into the woods for the back half of our loop walk along the river and through the woods (but not to Grandmother’s house we go).
We finished up with one more close-up look at the rover. Then we drove back along the highway, the Columbia River to our right, the towering rock walls of the Gorge to our left, and only a smattering of traffic between us and the setting sun.
Thanksgiving is about gathering and gratitude. While I did not gather, I did give gratitude. I gave Tucker his favorite Turkey and Sardine dinner, and I had my own usual vegetarian fare. I gave thanks for adventures like today, to be able to share them with my faithful companion who is up for every car ride and every walk, wherever we go. I am grateful to explore new places, and take in the wonder Mother Nature has created. I appreciate that I still have my health and Tucker has his so we can walk long distances and climb steep mountains in pursuit of experiencing Nature’s art from every vantage point.
I hope you all got to gather—or not gather, if that be your preference—with those you love and share the gratitude for this thing we call life. Whether you enjoy an urban outing or seeing the stars alone in a campsite miles from civilization, I hope you were able to be wherever you find joy. For that’s what life is about: expressing gratitude for every moment of joy this beautiful life has to offer.
I hope you all got to gather—or not gather, if that be your preference—with those you love and share the gratitude for this thing we call life. Whether you enjoy an urban outing or seeing the stars alone in a campsite miles from civilization, I hope you were able to be wherever you find joy. For that’s what life is about: expressing gratitude for every moment of joy this beautiful life has to offer.
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