Sauvie Island, The Continuation

I titled this post "The Continuation" because I never seem to get tired of going to the island; there's always something new to explore. Apparently though, even as often as I've been out to Sauvie Island, it is still possible to miss a turn on the way there and almost end up in downtown Portland. That happened to me not long after I moved here, and I've never quite recovered from almost leading the Rose Parade in my bright red Eclipse. But I finally made it, and parked in one of several designated parking areas along the narrow, windy road. I had planned on walking about 10 miles. That's a little shorter than usual but occasionally one of my feet decides to get grumpy and I have to listen to it whine a bit. I passed these barns on the way to the meadow. There are scads of old barns on the island, all with their own stories to tell.

     

   

After about an hour, I came to the turnoff and headed back to a slightly more remote area. The only living thing that's usually back here is an occasional picnicker or herd of cows. There are shooting competitions that go on, but they usually take place later in the summer. This time the cow herd was joined by an egret or two, a couple of squawking blue herons (and boy do they make a revolting sound), and a bald eagle. The eagle was especially beautiful as he glided in a circle overhead, as if riding an invisible carousel of wind.

There are numerous lakes on this part of the island, especially this time of year when we're still in the rainy season. The clouds and trees reflecting in the water made for a great dining atmosphere. Even my Cliff bar tasted fancier. I doubt whether any famous downtown restaurants had ambience like this. 

Meanwhile, two males of the bovine population had started a tug of war of sorts. It's a good thing they had been dehorned because otherwise things could have gotten messy. One of the bystanders took a particular interest in me. I just kept walking and didn't make eye contact, other than to quote one of my favorite Bob Hope lines, "Just look upon me as a vegetarian."

I had looked on Google maps and could see a footbridge of sorts crossing a narrow channel of water and leading to another part of the island. My goal was to find it and then see what there was to explore on the other side. Alas, it turned out that the image on Google was taken in the summer when the water had receded a bit. Having no desire to go wading, I took a picture of the bridge and the surrounding area and headed back. I do think it was worth the walk.

The bridge is behind the fallen log.

It really is this pretty on the island, almost like one of Burt's chalk drawings from Mary Poppins. Come to think of it, I think my waiter was a penguin. Oh, remember that 10 miles I had planned? It turned into something closer to 13 or 14. That always happens, one trail leads to another and before long, the mileage budget is blown. Oh well, it's still quite an economical way to spend a Saturday.

To the Lighthouse

Yes, I know, Virginia Woolf already wrote that story. But in this instance I really was trying to get to a lighthouse, just without all the angst associated with the other story. One of my favorite spots in the area is Sauvie Island. It has a small lighthouse on an equally small outcropping of rock called Warrior Rock. The story goes that in the late 1700's a British Naval expedition landed on Sauvie Island and was greeted by warriors of the Multnomah tribe. There was some trading between the two groups, and the point where they met was called Warrior Rock to commemorate the occasion. The lighthouse, Oregon's smallest and one of only two Oregon lighthouses not on the Pacific Ocean, guides river traffic on the Columbia. I have had several past attempts at hiking out to the lighthouse and Friday's adventure was yet another failed attempt, but at least this time I actually caught a glimpse of it. With a little imagination, the lighthouse can be seen at the end of the line of trees on the left in the picture above. Well, with maybe more than just a little imagination.

I had decided that the first sunny Friday in October I would take a vacation day  to capture some fall colors. I was hoping it would be a little later in the month when there was more color, but when you live in such a temperamental state you take any sunny day you can get no matter when it comes along. So when this past Friday was predicted to be 70 and sunny, I put in my vacation request. When I left Portland around 9:30 in the morning it was almost clear. As I got closer and closer to Sauvie Island, it got cloudier and cloudier. I was not amused. I parked at one of the designated areas and started walking, looking for any sign of blue sky in the middle of all the gray. Finally, about noon, the skies started to clear. I sat on an old fallen tree eating carrots and humus and thoroughly enjoying the scene before me.

This particular part of the island has little traffic, especially this time of year, and each time I've been there it has the feeling of walking through a landscape painting or a picture in an old story book. This area has a trail that runs roughly parallel with the main road and then intersects it at a point where the other road turns to gravel. I was heading for this intersection and just happened to look over my shoulder to see a mountain peering at me over the canal.


Once the two roads intersect, it's a long straight walk to the trail head. There are numerous signs for Collins Beach along the way, which is a clothing optional spot. I was half tempted to jump out of the underbrush with my camera aimed at any unsuspecting sunbather just to see if I could get anyone to scurry away to take cover, but I decided I better not. After passing numerous cows and old barns, I finally found my way to the beach. I was going to take the trail out to the lighthouse and follow the coastline back but there was some trail construction going on so I decided to go out and back the same way.

 Mt. St. Helens, Mt. Adams (I just found out that the mountain I'd thought was Rainier all these years is actually Mt. Adams), and Mt. Hood were all out with their fresh layers of snow. I thought this time I would make it all the way for sure, but alas it was not to be. The beach soon became a sea of mud and the trail was almost as bad. I could feel my shoes being sucked off my feet and decided it would have to wait yet again. I'm sure the lighthouse isn't going anywhere soon and it will give me another excuse to drive back to the island next summer or spring.

Wide Open Spaces

It struck me yesterday, as I realized that once again I had planned too long a walk to possibly fit into one day, that the ultimate goal shouldn't necessarily be getting to the planned destination, but rather enjoying what there is to see along the way. Sauvie Island is a good example of a place where it's easy to forget about the finish line and just enjoy the journey. Yesterday morning found me yet again on Highway 30 on the way to Sauvie Island. This has become one of my favorite places to visit, even more so than the Columbia River Gorge, for one simple reason: wide open spaces. When I drove across the bridge, I immediately pulled out of the car to snap this picture of Mt. St. Helens. And guess what? There were no trees to dodge, no hills in the way, just farmland and a few trees to decorate the foreground.

After wending along past mown fields of alfalfa and farmhouses, I came to the first of many parking areas on this island that is a combination of nature reserves and farmland. I should have checked the handy dandy GPS to see how far it was to Warrior Rock and the lighthouse but figured it hadn't looked that far when I checked the map earlier and probably wasn't more than five or six miles to the trail head, add another six-mile round trip to see the lighthouse and it equaled a decent walk for the day. Except that, as usual, there was a slight miscalculation and after about four miles I checked and saw that it was going to be at least seven more miles to the trail head. Eighteen to twenty miles is one thing, thirty is a (very) far distant goal. At that point, I decided to look for a loop that would take me back another way so I could check out different scenery. The lighthouse will have to wait until another day. It probably isn't going anywhere any time soon. A dirt road curved off the main drag just past the beach parking area and took me off the beaten path into fields of yellow flowers (probably weeds, but they look good in pictures) and along a dirt trail that ran alongside one of the many lakes on the island. Here, except for the wind whistling past, it was quiet and easy to forget that there was a bustling city about 10 miles away.

The road made its way up a gentle rise until Mt. St. Helens was again on the horizon. That sight alone made the day worth it and it, and made me realize how blessed I am to be a desert rat in the northwest.

Rain and/or Shine

 Fall and spring are the times of year when you never know what to wear. Just because the ark floated by your window does not mean that in 10 minutes the sun will not be shining. Add the appropriate temperature adjustments for both rain and shine and it's easy to see how you could walk out of the house with a wardrobe trunk that would make any Vaudeville performer proud. Yesterday's sunrise was as unpredictable as the weather. I left the house and drove to a nearby area where a house is being built. The backyard looks onto both the lake of Lake Oswego with Mt. Hood vying for attention in the background. Even more importantly, no trees obstruct the view, and a tree free view is difficult to come by. The only problem was that, unbeknownst to me, the workmen also had Saturday hours. Silly me to think I'd have that view all to myself at 7:00 on a Saturday morning. The view was actually rather disappointing because of all the clouds, and after sinking in the mud for a few minutes, I drove home. However, as I pulled into the apartment complex, there was a glorious light coming from the east. So, back to the old standby viewing area, complete with obstructing trees, to get a few shots before it was too late. It started raining on the way home, which set the tone for the rest of the day. The target walking area for Saturday was the St. John's Bridge in northwest Portland, and then on to Sauvie Island. The St. John's Bridge is a suspension bridge built in the late 1920's. It's Gothic spires easily make it one of Portland's most recognizable landmarks. Up to now I've only admired it from a distance but had yet to photograph it. Portland's skyline is easily visible

from St. John's with the Steel Bridge in the foreground. The clouds really put on a good show yesterday, in between rainstorms that is. The goal was to walk from Cathedral Park, across the bridge, and to Sauvie Island. It didn't look that far on Google, no more than a few miles or so. As I walked along Highway 30 (in the bike lane, not to worry), I got out my GPS to see how much farther there was to go. Imagine my surprise when it said nine miles. Hmm, a twenty-mile round trip wasn't quite what I had in mind. I turned around and headed back to the car with the newly formulated Plan B on the agenda: drive to the park and ride at Sauvie Island and walk the two miles to the Pumpkin Patch. That turned out to be a good plan because coming over the hills to the west were dark clouds and with them some pretty serious rain drops. I was very happy not to be walking along the road with all those cars splashing me. It had mostly quit by the time I got to the island (and I must have had a bad address because it would have only been about 14 miles, which wouldn't have been too bad). Sauvie Island is an agricultural area connected to the mainland by a bridge with a colorful orange arch. It's known for its wildlife refuge as well as pumpkin picking places (say that three times fast), and I'm sure most of the residents dread the month of October as all the city folk come zipping along the narrow two-lane road to tromp around in the mud, buy produce, and get lost in the corn maze. It's a lovely area though and one I should visit in the summer when Mt. Hood is out. I was last at Sauvie Island two years ago on a beautiful, warm October day and the traffic was literally at a standstill. I

made much better time walking (one particularly burly man in a big pickup asked me if this was the way to the Pumpkin Patch, I hope he didn't think it was a bar). But this year because of the iffy weather, traffic zoomed by, totally oblivious to all the beautiful things to look at. The Pumpkin Patch itself, is a rather commercialized outfit with the corn maze, a big barn to buy produce in, complete with shopping carts, an area for kids to pet farm animals, and of course, pumpkins.

The actual walk to get there is more the purpose for the trip than the Pumpkin Patch itself. After looking around and tromping through the muddy parking lot to find the exit, it was time to head back home. The rain had ended by this time and it was a beautiful walk back with the sun shining full on the trees with the dark gray clouds behind them. I hope the people who drove by yesterday took a moment to enjoy the journey as well as the destination.