Cascade Locks
I started to take a ride into town two miles away, but turned around when there was a large downhill that I did not want to climb on the way back. The road into town was lined with small houses and there were lots of people outside talking to their neighbors or just passing the time. When I got back to camp I found two families had moved into the tent site next to mine. They had three boys between them ages 3 to 6 I would guess. It was good to hhear the pleasant laughter of children playing honestly again.
I spoke to M and found I had gotten an expected refund from my mortgage company that made me feel better about the deal I made on my house. (Unfortunately when I subsequently spoke to him I found I still had my repairs for my Saturn on my credit card to pay. The two items just about cancelled each other out. Such is life).
I retired at my usual time after reading a SF story. It was good to have abook to read again. I was still restless though. I was only 50 or so miles from Portland and less than 200 miles from Cottage Gove and I wondered if I should try to see anyone. I just was not ready and with the fire near Madra I thought it would be hard to head east if I ended up in the Willamettte Valley.
I had been listening to CNN Radio news all day. They kept reporting that the fire was south of Portland and it had jumped a river into a national forest. Well that does not narrow it down much does it. I had no idea where the fire was until I heard about it on a local news report. Tomorrow was another day I would have to decide where to stay.
I awoke early the next day, but did not feel good so I did not get up right way. I thought I might sleep in and stay another day. I finally got up around 8:30 am and as often happens I felt fine. The boys were pretending they were different animals and chasing each other in the adjacent campsite.
I had spotted a taco Time in both The Dalles and Hood River, so I had hoped I could stop at one on the way out. I hit Hood River around 9:45 am looking for the Post Office to send in my payment for my Self-Storage in Tucson. I thought of a good movie title when I passed through the day before when I saw all the sailboarders out on the Columbia, "Boys in the Hood River."
As I exited the Post office I saw a very well-dressed middle-aged lady tying her exotic looking dog to the bike rack outside (good thing I did not ride my bike). The dog was one of those odd skinny dogs with long legs and a skinny face with a long nose. As I crossed the street to my car, I noticed the three "young and beautiful" people sipping their lattes in the parking lot above the street were eyeing the dog. I also noticed the reason, they had a mutt that was showing interest also. It looked like a pit bull wannabe for the jet setters who want the prestige of having a vicious looking dog without actually killing anyone. Similar to the way you could tell that their "grunge" looking clothes were designer wear items that they paid an arm and a leg for to look like the common people. They were real hip.
As I started my car and the middle-aged lady entered the psot-office the female of the bunch walked her dog across the street (without a leash of course) so the mutt could have a field day sniffing the elegant hound. There are so many things that irritate me about this story that I just can't express them. Makes me want to move to Montana and hide out in a caabin somewhere. I am sure I would find fault with that also.
I hit The Dalles just after 10 am. I thought it would be too early for Taco Time and even stalling by getting gas would not be enough. I was wrong. They opened at 10 am. I got gas, got a fix of Crisp Meat Burritos and Mexifries, then noticed a Burgerville on the way out of town. I had heard their advertisements the previous day that Walla Walla Onions were in season and they had Walla Walla Onion Rings for a limited time. I orderd a semi-huge order (3 rings) and was on my way. Talk about comfort food. Meanwhile, I still had $20 of camping food to eat in the backseat). Anyway, all the food was great and I started to perk up as I headed out of Oregon. Thee rings by the way were at leat 3/4 of an inch wide, 3/8 of an inch thick and cut from and onion at least 4 inches in diameter. They were hard, sweet and crunchy. Delicious.
I exited to highway 730 around noon and saw the collection of signs in the above picture. They recalled to me a bumper sticker I saw on my bike ride into Cascade Locks. It read, "If it is tourist season, why can't we shoot them." In case you still don't get it, the tour route above is on Bombing Range Road. It was a bright sunny day and I was headed east. I was not sure if I would make it to Missoula or stay at someplace in between.