Astoria, Oregon
This morning we reached our westernmost point on our expedition - Astoria, Oregon. As the fog lifted it became a place of gentle sunshine, barely detectable breezes and precipitation-less skies. This sounds more like an introduction for someone to come in and shout “April’s Fool” as opposed to today’s holiday on the calendar – Halloween.
Ours has been a visual as well as what was described tonight as an interpretive journey. We will remember the stark beauty of a naked landscape, devoid of almost all vegetation, showcasing the splendor of hundreds of miles of basaltic formations as we traversed the Columbia and Snake rivers in the rain shadow of the Cascade Mountains. There were new experiences, such as cordage making with cattails, paddling a kayak Corp-esque style in the placid waters of the Palouse River and learning to whistle with an acorn cap.
We experienced the extraordinary sight of seventeen rocky mountain bighorn sheep drinking riverside near the jet boat in Hell’s Canyon. This in stark contrast with a lone barred owl sitting silent in the moss and lichen draped forest at Cape Disappointment. We experience the botanical exuberance of a temperate rainforest skirting the edges of a steep rocky coast and hiding all but the most exposed rocks lashed by wind, waves and salty spray.
The knowledge we take home from our interpretive journey will be as varied as we are. Whether addressing the historical, cultural or natural history aspects, the journey of 31 men, a woman, a baby and a big black dog will be a source of intrigue and inspiration for generations to come.
This morning we reached our westernmost point on our expedition - Astoria, Oregon. As the fog lifted it became a place of gentle sunshine, barely detectable breezes and precipitation-less skies. This sounds more like an introduction for someone to come in and shout “April’s Fool” as opposed to today’s holiday on the calendar – Halloween.
Ours has been a visual as well as what was described tonight as an interpretive journey. We will remember the stark beauty of a naked landscape, devoid of almost all vegetation, showcasing the splendor of hundreds of miles of basaltic formations as we traversed the Columbia and Snake rivers in the rain shadow of the Cascade Mountains. There were new experiences, such as cordage making with cattails, paddling a kayak Corp-esque style in the placid waters of the Palouse River and learning to whistle with an acorn cap.
We experienced the extraordinary sight of seventeen rocky mountain bighorn sheep drinking riverside near the jet boat in Hell’s Canyon. This in stark contrast with a lone barred owl sitting silent in the moss and lichen draped forest at Cape Disappointment. We experience the botanical exuberance of a temperate rainforest skirting the edges of a steep rocky coast and hiding all but the most exposed rocks lashed by wind, waves and salty spray.
The knowledge we take home from our interpretive journey will be as varied as we are. Whether addressing the historical, cultural or natural history aspects, the journey of 31 men, a woman, a baby and a big black dog will be a source of intrigue and inspiration for generations to come.
