Like Lewis and Clark, today we explored the mouth of the Columbia River and viewed sites occupied by the Corp of Discovery Expedition during the winter of 1805-06. The weather today was cool, mid 50s with a moderate breeze. We’d unpacked some of our warm weather gear before leaving Florida so felt a little underprepared. Not to worry; the Columbia River Maritime Museum in Astoria, conveniently located at our dock, sells nice, insulated jackets. Judy needed one; me, not so much. But one goes for $48, two for $59 so of course we both own one now.

We really shouldn’t complain about the weather. When L&C arrived in November and stayed until late March, they had 12 days without rain; only six of those days had sunshine and of course much colder temperatures. They were wet and miserable the whole time. Their clothing had worn out or been traded to Indians on the trail. They lacked food and would have starved if it hadn’t been for the generosity of local native tribes.

The morning bus ride took us across the river to Washington where the Corp initially prospected for a site on which they could build their winter quarters. We first visited what Clark called Dismal Nitch, a tiny cove with scarcely any land between the river and the steep heavily wooded hill. They were caught there in continual rain because the wind and waves were too strong to permit passage around point Ellice. Today, point Ellice is the terminus of the almost 5-mile bridge between Astoria, Oregon and Washington.

When the weather lifted, Clark moved the Corp around the point to a Chinook summer camp. The Corp took it to be abandoned so tore the buildings down and used the wood to build their own shelters. Later, that site became the home of the McGowan family, who built a town including a church which still stands. McGowans still live in the region.

Lewis and later Clark explored further downriver to the Pacific looking for a site for the winter camp, one with plentiful food (elk and deer), sufficient trees to build shelters and proximity to running fresh water. They failed in their searches but were convinced by Clatsop Indians that conditions on the south shore would better meet their needs.

Incidentally, the western most point is called Cape Disappointment. Its name has nothing to do with Lewis and Clark although they must have been disappointed to not have found a suitable site. Rather, it’s so named John Meares, a sea captain searching for the Columbia River. He mistook the mouth of the river for a mere bay and so turned around and sailed back the way he had come. Was he ever disappointed!

As we learned earlier, the Columbia was thought to be the key to the Northwest Passage, an all-water link for which the U.S., French and British searched in vain. It made great logical sense. The Missouri River must originate at the Continental Divide and flow east. The Columbia must originate on the other side of the divide and flow west. Hike a few feet across the divide and you’re home free! As Lewis and Clark learned, there’s a whole bunch of mountains that separate the two. It’s only in the past few years that melting ice in the Arctic region has opened an all-water passage from the Atlantic to the Pacific.

The story of the Chinooks is particularly distressing. They never succeeded in entering a treaty with the U.S. government. Because of that, the U.S. doesn’t recognize the Chinooks as a ‘tribe” and hence they do not receive land and financial consideration. A law passed in 1954 ended U.S. obligations under all Indian treaties. That law has been turned back, restoring compensation for treaties that were abrogated but that didn’t do the Chinooks any good. The Clinton administration recognized the Chinook tribe, but the Bush administration reversed that decision. A lawsuit against the Interior Department is apparently caught up in the change of administrations from Trump to Biden.

In the afternoon our bus took us to the south shore of the Columbia where the Clatsop tribe lived. There the Corp constructed quarters at what they called Fort Clatsop. There’s a reconstruction of the fort based on a sketch drawn by Clark of the floorplan, but the exact location of the fort and the nature of the building is pure conjecture.

Many of the Corp’s campsites have been located by searching for mercury in the soil. The Corp built their latrines 100 yards from the camp and since mercury was used to treat Corp members for STD, presence of mercury in the latrine gives an idea of where to look for the camp. That technique hasn’t paid off (yet) at Fort Clatsop.

But I promised to refrain from history lessons on this trip and there I go again. Enough.

It turns out that the empty freighters we’ve seen anchored in the river are in fact waiting for dock space or for their cargos to be prepared. Containers and log carriers are common. Also, the posts sticking out of the water are in fact old pilings for structures from days gone by. Fisheries, canneries and logging operations were numerous back in the day. Salmon and tuna were big catches. Bumblebee Tuna was canned here. Overfishing and the construction of dams ended the salmon business.

The museum housed several interesting exhibits about the Columbia River. The US Coast Guard operates its training facility for high seas lifeboat rescue crews at Cape Disappointment. The video of actual training runs in 20 to 30-foot waves was unbelievable. The CSCG saves 600 lives or more in this manner.

Now that we’ve done the sightseeing thing, it’s time to go to work and do the cruising thing. It’s 5:45 PM and we’re late for the cocktail party, Dinner starts now too and goes to 7:30. The floor show (a popular ballad duo) starts at 8:30, including an open bar. Tomorrow we’re at sea all day (OK, at river) with no stops. The forecast is mid 60s and a chance of rain so we’re not going to get much work done on our sun tans. Actually, I’ve just stopped peeling from my Florida sunburn.

For the first nine days we’ve been in low gear, all-wheel drive and low range cranking up hill with the pedal on the floorboard. Now, on board the cruise boat, we’re coasting downhill and engine at idle. If we were in the Tesla, we’d be charging the battery. I said to Judy as we settled in for lunch in the dining room, “On the road trip at lunch time we’d be figuring out what to do for lunch, what we should do for a hotel tonight and whether we should take the next scenic overlook.” Now, every eventuality is covered, turn-down service is in full gear and the question is not what to eat but rather how much to eat. We also have to have social conversations with strangers, a departure from just the two of us with little or no other human interaction.

Not that I’m complaining. Both lifestyles have their attractions. It’s good for us to unplug and lower our intensity level a notch.

We had breakfast at the hotel and got our Covid test. Everyone passed – all passengers but not all the crew are fully vaccinated. Many, probably most passengers, despite what the CDC and Dr. Fauci are saying about mask wearing, are still hesitant to relax their standards. Mask wearing for us, and others, has become something of a security blanket. But at lunch and dinner and the cocktail hour it’s hard not to drop the mask and rely on the vaccine.

The ship is a little less than half full – 87 out of 184 passenger capacity. This is the third trip of the season. The first had 37 passengers, the second 60-odd. The crew is still in a shakedown mode, judging from dinner service tonight and some hesitancy at the bar during the cocktail hour. But that’s OK; they’ll learn and we’ll live.

Call me an old curmudgeon but a little bit of friendliness, cheerfulness and “is everything just super?” goes a long way with me. Our cruise director is on his first outing in this role and so is probably trying too hard to find his style and “voice” in his new gig. But overlooking that, the service is excellent, and the cruise amenities are first-rate. Not only is there free wine and beer at lunch and dinner but there is a selection of eight or more wines, not just house wine. And the cocktail hour is free and the free bar stays open late.

The entertainment is provided by a man and his wife. They serve as historians by day, focusing on the Lewis and Clark expedition. They also promise to focus on the three driving forces that led to the development of the Pacific Northwest. First, President Jefferson’s drive to expand the territorial boundaries of the U.S., beginning with the Louisiana Purchase and then Lewis & Clark’s trip to go beyond the Rockies to the Pacific. Second, the commercial drive by U.S., British and French companies to open up the fur trade in the region. John J. Astor was the main U.S. entrepreneur. Third was the wave of pioneers – moms, pops and kids who traveled the Oregon Trail and settled the territory. Our lecturer gives brief mention of the maltreatment of native peoples, saying, “The story is too terrible to tell.” We will have exposure to the Nez Perce people later in the cruise. But an honest appraisal of the era needs to go beyond the “feel good” stories of fur trappers and pioneer families enduring unimaginable hardships to live the American Dream.

The couple also serves as entertainment, singing cocktail hour songs and, during this evening’s lecture, singing original songs they composed to further illustrate the story of Lewis and Clark. Tonight’s lecture followed Lewis and Clark from Washington, D.C. to the Rockies, closely following the account I just finished reading, “Undaunted Courage,” by Stephen Ambrose. Entertaining and well done, avoiding the mind-numbing torture historical lectures can inflict.

Sailing from Portland to Astoria this afternoon we saw a continual string of freighter ships of all descriptions floating empty at anchor. I wonder what the deal is with them. Maybe I’ll ask the captain.

In all, it looks like a great cruise. The ship and the program equal or exceed anything we’ve experienced on other cruise lines, including Viking. We’re looking forward to tomorrow’s tours of Cape Disappointment and Fort Clatsop.

Here we sit, waiting for our Lyft ride to our hotel. We just turned in our rental car after 1,090 miles and 8 days of care-free driving from San Francisco to Portland. The road trip is over. Tomorrow we set sail on the Columbia River. 

Today was Portland day. As usual we had some but not extensive knowledge of what we were in for. Stop 1: The Voodoo donut shop that’s a must-see in everyone’s guidebook. The first problem before ingesting sugar-infused fat was to find a place to park. After some fumbling around we found a parking ramp across the street from Stop #2: Powell’s bookstore. That left us with a 10-minute walk to the Voodoo. 

For me, Portland is not as walkable as San Francisco. The streets aren’t as clean and the buildings less interesting. Both have lots of hills so that’s a draw. 

One upsetting aspect of Portland streets is the frequent presence of street people camped in pop-up tents on downtown sidewalks. It’s upsetting to think of street people forced by circumstance to live like that. It raises concern over safety although we were never panhandled or approached in any way. 

The donuts? As advertised. We had four (hey, we’ll never do Voodoos again) plus two juice boxes for $10. I told the cashier that there must be some mistake. “No mistake!”

We discovered that the weekend outdoor market was underway a block from Voodoo. We strolled the aisles and bought a couple of grandkid souvenirs. Call us chicken but we weren’t sure what Esme would want, nor for that matter Griffin. We ended up FaceTime-ing and held up one tie-dyed tee shirt after another’s until we hit the jackpot. 

Powell’s City of Books is just that: a square-block building with multiple floors of new and old books. If they ain’t got it you didn’t need it. I bought a used book about the Columbia River published in 1957 for $7.50. 

It was a long uphill climb to Portland‘s famous International Rose Test Garden. So, we drove up and found a parking spot without too much trouble. The gardens are a wonder. The roses are a couple of weeks from really putting on a show but those that had bloomed plus the abundant azaleas and rhododendrons in full glory made for a very pleasant experience. The weather? As usual, perfect. Seventies, sunny and a nice breeze.

Not that we needed it after the donut blowout but, given a 5:30 PM dinner reservation, there was nothing to do but cowboy up and down a hot dog, calling it lunch.

We’d hoped to visit the Portland Japanese Garden adjoining the rose garden, but it like everything else in Portland, was booked. We pocketed the $34 it would have cost us and instead hiked up the hill to the Hoyt Arboretum, which, like the rose garden, is free. We made it to the arboretum but it’s an extensive area with 12 miles of hiking stairs. We prudently decided to save our elderly knees and hike back down, drive back up, and see some of the arboretum that way. Which we did, and enjoyed it quite a bit, especially the nice view of Mt Hood in the distance.

Then we drove back down the hill to the Hollywood section of Portland for dinner at a restaurant I’d found on-line – the Cabezon. Cabezon is a predatory Scorpion fish; in Spanish it means stubborn and bullheaded. It turned out to be a small neighborhood outfit. They vary the menu daily according to what’s available fresh. We kinda went overboard, suffering, probably from our sugar high. We started with Totten Inlet Mussels with borlotti beans, Spanish chorizo and fries in a saffron sauce. Judy had Local Ling Cod and I had the Cioppino with lots of fish and shellfish in a spicy stew. Desert? “Did you leave room for dessert?” “No, but we’ll have a look anyway.” “I like it; real class,” said our waitress. Probably the best meal of the trip so far.

Last stop: the airport to return the National rental car. No problem, quick service. Now an Uber to the ship and we’re home free. Except Uber is $50 and Lyft $32 (no cabs in sight). Whatever. Thirty minutes later the Lyft car has hardly moved and is still 19 minutes away. Uber? Now $25. Cancel Lyft and book Uber. The Uber guy was parked right behind us so off we went without further delay and we’re back “home” with tomorrow’s home docked right below our window.

By the way, I left my big Fuji gear at home today. All pictures were shot on iPhones.

It had to happen – a route segment that must be traveled to keep on schedule but one that has little of scenic interest. No crashing waves, tumbling rivers or Crater Lakes. Just the I-5, including three major slowdowns coming into Portland that added at least thirty minutes to the normal 2:00 hour ride. No construction, no accidents, just too many people trying to fit down a finite size highway on Friday afternoon.

We did, however, find two points of interest. Since we found ourselves in Eugene and since, as mentioned earlier, Reagan was accepted to the University of Oregon in Eugene, we figured we should check it out. First, we drove 15 minutes from our hotel to the campus and walked around for a while.

We (Judy, that is) was hoping for a cup of Portland coffee at the student cafeteria but it turns out the entire campus is limited to staff and students only.

The campus is nice as campuses go – nothing special but not all that unattractive. It’s a fairly big school (20,000 students sticks in my mind) but the campus is reasonably compact. My big beef is that the two most dominating structures on campus are the state-of-the-art football field, complete with a gigantic tower whose purpose escapes me, and the equally ginormous athletic building: think a domed Quonset hut blown up to city block proportions and at least ten stories tall. I’m not sure the old Minneapolis Metrodome was much bigger.

My question: what does it say about the school’s priorities when the campus is dominated by not one but two huge athletic facilities? I have no problem with athletic programs – Go Mighty Ducks! – but really?

Judy had found mention of a city park near a really good bakery a block away so naturally we had to check out both. We scored a cinnamon roll and an applesauce, something-or-other coffee cake thing that we ate, with Judy’s coffee, in the park. The park is surrounded by nice older homes, most with colorful gardens. Spring has sprung in Eugene and the azaleas, etc. are in full bloom.

We’ll never know what might have happened if Reagan had selected U of O. I for one, would rather make the trek to San Diego to visit her.

Looking at the map, Salem lies halfway between Eugene and Portland. “Isn’t that the capitol of Oregon? asked Judy. So of course, we had to stop. It’s a fine structure but once again it’s closed up tighter than a drum.

A man coming out of the building told us, “Yes, unfortunately it’s closed and it’s too bad.” His body language reflected what we’ve heard from others in Oregon. The governor, Kate Brown, has been too slow in reopening Oregon. She escaped a recall petition in 2020 and today announced that Oregon would begin to follow the CDC recommendations regarding face mask usage by those fully inoculated. As we parted I said to the man, “Give our regards to Governor Brown when you see her.” “I will,” he replied in a tone that told me he will in fact see her soon.

So on to Portland and the aforementioned traffic. It’s so bad we don’t want to venture out to downtown for dinner. All the good restaurants near here and elsewhere are booked solid so we may be stuck in the hotel dining room, which the desk clerk said is, “honestly, pretty good.” We’ll hit downtown to eat and sightsee tomorrow.

Right now, I’ve returned from a walk up the riverside: a series of condos overlooking the river and a yacht basin. Judy, bless her soul, is doing our mid-trip laundry. We can’t send it out because tomorrow is Saturday and so she’s draped herself over a hot coin-op machine making us safe for contact with our fellow passengers during the coming cruise, which starts Sunday.

Can you believe it? We didn’t hit the road until 9:30 and quit for the day at 6:30. Nine hours in total. Someone should dock our pay for such a lackadaisical showing.

The objective was simple: drive about two-and-a-half hours to Crater Lake and then come down the mountain and get to Eugene in about three hours. But of course, we expected to find something interesting on the way and indeed we did.

 First of all, our route both eastbound to Crater Lake and westbound to Eugene passed through Oregon’s Cascade Range, climbing from a few hundred feet above sea level to as high as 5,000 feet on the road and 6,000 feet at Crater Lake. I’m no tree guy, but I believe many of the conifer stands we saw were Douglas Fir trees. In between the mountains the road passed through flat farmland and small towns. Nothing we saw gave the impression of great wealth, but the scenery was most satisfying.

We saw several areas in the mountains that showed the effects of recent forest fires, something we easterners hear about but, like disasters that don’t directly affect us, we treat with passing interest. It’s one thing to see burned trees; they’ll grow back eventually. But to see, as I did, a cellar hole with a, let’s say “modest”, house trailer parked next to it brings it home to human reality.

The route from Grant’s Pass to Crater Lake followed the Rogue River whose source is largely snow melt from Mount Mazama, the collapsed volcanic top of which is Crater Lake. A beautiful river. We stopped a couple of times for a quick walk. The Rogue River Gorge, where the river is confined to a passage of maybe 15 feet, was particularly impressive.

We made a stop, thinking it would provide a scenic view of the river, but found only a series of wall panels describing the Applegate Trail. A guy named Applegate in the 1850s forged a trail from the Columbia river south and east for about 500 miles, largely following the Rogue. The intent was to find an easier path for Oregon Trail pioneers to follow instead of the more dangerous path down the Columbia.

Before the pioneer invasion, French and British fur traders had made the Rogue their home base starting in the 1820s. (Don’t footnote me as an expert on Rogue River history; I’m winging it a bit based on my memory of those plaques.) The Gold Rush of the 1850s brought even more settlers and exploiters to the region.

The nineteenth century seems to me to be a real mixed bag, historically. On the one hand, the 1800s, starting with the Louisiana Purchase and Lewis and Clark’s exploration, the Hudson Bay Company and fur trading opened up what became the western half of the United States. Technological advances in transportation (steam locomotion) and communication (telegraph) brought unparalleled change to the world. We think the 20^th century was a big deal and that the 21^st century advances are even more profound. But really a Tesla is just a refinement of Fulton’s steam engine and the Internet is just a refinement of the telegraph. Imagine what it was like for people, goods and information to travel no faster than a horse or a person walking to railroads and steamships and near instantaneous dissemination of information.

The other side of the 19^th century, which we see just about everywhere we go, here and abroad, is the exploitation of indigenous peoples by those who possess 19^th Century technology. The technology gives invaders the means to subjugate the indigenous people but also the motivation to exploit the natural resources contained in the land that for thousands of years was home to native populations.

The name “Rogue” came from French trappers who viewed Indians as a “rogue” people. The rogue River War of 1855-1856 spelled the end of Native people. It followed years of skirmishes and wars that left many killed and diseased. One panel in the exhibit claimed that the U.S. government paid over $100,000 to bounty hunters for killing Native people.

It’s easy to tsk-tsk those terrible trappers, gold seekers and pioneers. Didn’t they know better? They came from a different time and culture so it’s too simple minded to think that you and I, in that situation, would have seen the world much different than those we criticize. It’s a sobering thought.

Enough history and philosophizing.

Take a look at the pictures of Crater Lake. We had an absolutely marvelous day – clear blue skies with temps in the 60s. Much of the park was still closed due to snow but the part that was open gave us great views.

Tonight, we’re in Eugene at the Valley River Inn. Why here? First, it’s about two hours from Portland and located so we had a reasonable travel day today – logistics. Coincidentally, it’s home to the University of Oregon, the first school to which Reagan received an acceptance letter. She’s never been here and is headed for University of California San Diego. We figured since we were in the neighborhood, we’d see what she’s missing!

We picked this hotel because the gal behind the desk last night said, “Oh yes, the Valley River Inn. I stayed there when I was in the eighth grade and we went shopping in Eugene. It was a really neat place, as I recall.” She might have thought that was a long time ago but not from the perspective of old folks like us. And it is a really neat place, it turns out. Tonight’s room is a duplicate of last night’s in that both have a balcony that overlooks a swiftly-flowing river.

Tomorrow, the end of our road tripping. We’ll explore Portland Friday afternoon and Saturday and then board ship Sunday morning.