Palouse River and Lower Snake River
We awoke this morning at Lion’s Ferry, at the mouth of the Palouse River. The river’s namesake rock, considered sacred by the now extinct Palouse Nation, loomed off the bow. According to native legend, the upper knob formed when a beaver landed on the rock, leaving its heart perched on top. Off the port side, an impressive train trestle traversed the landscape. Though not the highest, nor the longest, this train trestle is the highest-longest trestle in North America
After breakfast, we set off to explore the dramatic beauty of an area created through natural disaster. The basalt cliffs dwarfed us in our Zodiacs and kayaks as we looked up on the towering colonnades formed through lava flows, undercut in horizontal striations from massive flooding. Here, we witnessed the finest example on our journey of the catastrophic results of the Bretz Floods.
Massive talus inclines of crumbled basalt slope up from the river’s edge to the base of the cliffs. Naturalist Steve Engel shared an interesting observation, pointing out the variance between the eastern and western cliffs. The western face has larger talus slopes, with less plants and lichen, due to greater exposure to the hot afternoon sun. In contrast, the eastern face displays a rich mosaic of lichen and moist moss, ranging in color from brilliant aquamarines to deep forest greens. The giant sagebrush, whose fragrant scent wafted through the damp air, showed signs of recent rains: its branches swollen with water, lying on the ground, unable to hold its weight. Empty swallows’ nests decorated the cliffs, with the remnants of their mud dwellings adding another layer of texture to the geological creations. While coots and red-throated grebes swam among our boats, two golden eagles soared overhead.
By land, we made our way to the remarkable Palouse Falls, where water drops over a 185 foot cliff. We looked over the canyon’s edge to see the beginning of the river meandering through the steep landscape.
We spent the afternoon cruising back down the Snake River, towards the Columbia. Just before dinner, nature treated us to a dramatic show of colors over the concrete towers of Ice Harbor Dam. As we waited in line for a commercial barge to go through the lock, thick columns of rain hung over the Tri-Cities with streaks of lightning flashing above the setting sun.
We awoke this morning at Lion’s Ferry, at the mouth of the Palouse River. The river’s namesake rock, considered sacred by the now extinct Palouse Nation, loomed off the bow. According to native legend, the upper knob formed when a beaver landed on the rock, leaving its heart perched on top. Off the port side, an impressive train trestle traversed the landscape. Though not the highest, nor the longest, this train trestle is the highest-longest trestle in North America
After breakfast, we set off to explore the dramatic beauty of an area created through natural disaster. The basalt cliffs dwarfed us in our Zodiacs and kayaks as we looked up on the towering colonnades formed through lava flows, undercut in horizontal striations from massive flooding. Here, we witnessed the finest example on our journey of the catastrophic results of the Bretz Floods.
Massive talus inclines of crumbled basalt slope up from the river’s edge to the base of the cliffs. Naturalist Steve Engel shared an interesting observation, pointing out the variance between the eastern and western cliffs. The western face has larger talus slopes, with less plants and lichen, due to greater exposure to the hot afternoon sun. In contrast, the eastern face displays a rich mosaic of lichen and moist moss, ranging in color from brilliant aquamarines to deep forest greens. The giant sagebrush, whose fragrant scent wafted through the damp air, showed signs of recent rains: its branches swollen with water, lying on the ground, unable to hold its weight. Empty swallows’ nests decorated the cliffs, with the remnants of their mud dwellings adding another layer of texture to the geological creations. While coots and red-throated grebes swam among our boats, two golden eagles soared overhead.
By land, we made our way to the remarkable Palouse Falls, where water drops over a 185 foot cliff. We looked over the canyon’s edge to see the beginning of the river meandering through the steep landscape.
We spent the afternoon cruising back down the Snake River, towards the Columbia. Just before dinner, nature treated us to a dramatic show of colors over the concrete towers of Ice Harbor Dam. As we waited in line for a commercial barge to go through the lock, thick columns of rain hung over the Tri-Cities with streaks of lightning flashing above the setting sun.
