Multnomah Falls, Columbia River Gorge National Scenic Area
They came by water mostly because of the obstacles posed by the Cascade Range which were almost insurmountable. A party of men, the Corps of Discovery, on a quest for knowledge and the way to the west were forced to run dangerous rapids in awkward laden canoes. Wagons followed, carrying families in search of land of their own. They were loaded onto rafts to face the same perils and many lost their lives. They arrived in droves and the land was tamed, claimed by railroads. And then came the cars. They bumped and jiggled and picked their way from east to west. "We must have good roads!", their owners cried. Across the country that feeling was strong. Here in the west the quest was seized by two men named Sam. Together Hill and Lancaster turned dream to reality, engineering to art. They called it "Paradise Road", eighty miles of concrete that wove among the trees and through the mountainsides. Today only remnants remain.
We followed in their footsteps by road and river both. We left behind the flaxen grasses and gray green sage to steep ourselves in the richness of forest greens and autumn orange and gold. Waterfalls cascaded from hanging valleys high above, their sources hidden from view. The last stair-step in our water course, the lock at Bonneville Dam lowered us gently to the freely flowing river. And we proceed on, Pacific bound.
They came by water mostly because of the obstacles posed by the Cascade Range which were almost insurmountable. A party of men, the Corps of Discovery, on a quest for knowledge and the way to the west were forced to run dangerous rapids in awkward laden canoes. Wagons followed, carrying families in search of land of their own. They were loaded onto rafts to face the same perils and many lost their lives. They arrived in droves and the land was tamed, claimed by railroads. And then came the cars. They bumped and jiggled and picked their way from east to west. "We must have good roads!", their owners cried. Across the country that feeling was strong. Here in the west the quest was seized by two men named Sam. Together Hill and Lancaster turned dream to reality, engineering to art. They called it "Paradise Road", eighty miles of concrete that wove among the trees and through the mountainsides. Today only remnants remain.
We followed in their footsteps by road and river both. We left behind the flaxen grasses and gray green sage to steep ourselves in the richness of forest greens and autumn orange and gold. Waterfalls cascaded from hanging valleys high above, their sources hidden from view. The last stair-step in our water course, the lock at Bonneville Dam lowered us gently to the freely flowing river. And we proceed on, Pacific bound.
