Columbia River Gorge
The river is persistent in its pursuit of the sea. Through the millennia it has struggled to reach its goal. Persecuted, or so it might seem, the relentless flow has been pushed from its bed by red hot flowing lava, changing its course again and again over millions of years. Tremors have shaken mountainsides and cascades of boulders roared to build a dam imprisoning the liquid life. Little by little a trickle gathered its strength to break free once more and the river’s journey went on. Salmon depend on the water’s flow following it home. It is no wonder that man too finds life so tied to wherever rivers run.
One hundred and ninety seven years ago a band of hardy souls paddled the Columbia River where we were today. They faced the winds of the sculpted gorge riding the river towards the sea. In the wake of Lewis and Clark and the Corps of Discovery many more followed. Hardships were forgotten as civilization took hold on the banks of the watercourse. Sam Hill and Sam Lancaster, men with a vision, built a road, their goal to maintain the innate beauty here even while moving forward in time. Soon autos of the elite were overrun. Everyone seemed to need this dry land passage from the plains to the sea or the sea to the plains. But obsolescence came too fast and the work of art crumbled towards ruins. Now only ghosts remain from those early days on the Columbia River Highway. As we strolled or rode along the gentle curves of the road, restored in parts today we could let our imagination return to days gone by. We could stand at a tunnel entrance and hear not the rush of the highway below but the sound of voices from the past. Seeded by displays at the Columbia Gorge Discovery Center our minds rebuilt the history here. We stood on the bridge at Multnomah Falls awestruck by its height and beauty. How many other eyes have beheld this free fall of water as it rushes to meet the sea?
