The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.
- Marcel Proust




Thursday, July 23, 2009

An Oregon Trail

I've left Alaska so far behind that I can't think of anything else to say about it (how quickly we, okay I, forget), so...onward!

Today I am in Portland, Oregon, having arrived day before yesterday at the home of my new friends, Glea (pronounced GLEE-uh) and Sue (pronounced SOO, tee hee). Yesterday Glea, a retired RN, and I drove over 100 miles each way to visit sights along the Columbia River Gorge, which is the boundary between Washington and Oregon. It was spectacular, and so nice to have a guide who likes beautiful scenery, museums, and food as much as I do (although I have had no trouble reducing my calorie intake from "cruise" to normal). A photo album of our trip should appear in the right sidebar by tomorrow.

Highlights, before I forget:
Multnomah (also Portland's county name) Falls is one of the highest continuously running falls in the country. They serve Eggs Benedict in their restaurant and the biscuits are heavenly.


Vista House, at the top of Crown Point State Scenic Corridor, has some interesting historical artifacts in its little museum, including a pair of ladies' shoes that typify those of that era (1915): they are so narrow that no living woman could put them on (sorry for the poor photo quality: it was taken through glass).

Sam Hill (as in "where in the Sam Hill...") built a mansion in the middle of nowhere, near Goldendale, Washington. Because he married railroad tycoon James J. Hill's daughter and became friends with Queen Marie of Romania (granddaughter of Queen Victoria of England) and sculptor Auguste Rodin's girlfriend Loie Fuller, there are some very interesting artifacts in this museum as well, including some wonderful paintings, some Rodin plaster casts and a bracelet made from Queen Victoria's hair (a common practice in those days).
Besides the house, which he never lived in, he also built a replica of England's Stonehenge, the country's first national World War I Veterans Memorial. We were tuckered out when we got there so we didn't get out of the car, but the bikers seemed to be enjoying it.
That's all for today. I've been challenged by my favorite critic, my sister Marcia, to write a sonnet, which I fully intend to do but it's already 2:45 p.m. and I've been at this computer since about 9:30 a.m. (where DO the days go?).

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