As I sit here typing this, I'm taking in the view of the Oregon side of the Columbia river gorge. We've been riding all day from Hood River. We're on one of those stretches of highway in Washington that warns us of "no gas for 82 miles". What that sign didn't tell us was that there was going to be absolutely nothing for the next 82 miles. We came upon what was technically a tiny town, since they had a post office about 45 minutes before we stopped for the night. The tiny post office was about there was, other than a large neighborhood. Oh! There was a small store and diner that unfortunately had closed 20 minutes before we rolled through. A bit dismayed we prepared to roll out of town when I remembered that our water bottles were either empty or well on their way. So we rode through the neighborhood until we saw a father and son on their front porch and asked if we could fill our water bottles from their hose. They both retreated inside and after I thought they weren't coming back, they came out with three bottles of water. So we had bare neccesities and down the highway we went. We all knew we weren't going to find any campground or forest service land of any kind, so we started to scavange a spot off the highway to sleep for the night. What we found is by far one of the prettiest spots on the gorge. With a wind farm across the wide expanse of the Columbia, we spent the night in the perfect spot. The highway was below us, the stars blanketing us from above, while the huge electrial lines behind us hummed like giant robotic crickets. We have found our bliss and it hasn't cost us a dime. This is something I've began to realize while out on the road; not everyone has the means to take a journey like ours and it has nothing to do with money...
No comments:
Post a Comment