Recently my son and his wife came to visit for a couple of weeks.  In my mind, their  visit would not be complete without going to the Oregon coast for a day of exploration.  Since it doesn’t take much to give me an excuse to head west, this was going to be a great day! Off we went to Astoria, which is one of the oldest cities on the west coast. It is located at the mouth of the Columbia River and is full of old Victorian homes that are strung in layers  around a central hill that overlooks Washington State, the Columbia River and the sea.

When we arrived early afternoon, we were hungry and soon chose  “Baked Alaska”, a great restaurant on the Columbia River where we ate well while in view of four huge ships lying offshore with diving ducks and seagulls wheeling close to shore.

The Blackened Albacore Tuna appetizer was fabulous and of course, we ended the meal with Baked Alaska.  Gooey warm chocolate brownie with scoop of vanilla ice cream brought flaming to the table made a memorable sweet impression!

But, I digress.

We had planned on going to the Astoria Column after lunch, but by the time we finished eating,  a thick fog was covering the top of the Cockscomb Hill and by the time we drove to the top, the visibility was a mere few feet. Great time to go for a view!  However, not to be deterred, my son and daughter-in-law started the climb up the metal spiral stairs. Of course, I followed and unfortunately found myself huffing and puffing waaayyy before the top.  Darn. Those 165 steps kicked my rear.  The  Astoria Column stands 595 ft tall and is the final crowning monument in a series of 12 monuments that were built between St. Paul, Minnesota,  and Astoria, Oregon in the early 1900′s.

These 12 markers were the the project of Ralph Budd, president of the Midwest-based Great Northern Railroad. It was in 1925 when he announced that it was time to “properly salute Astoria’s explorers and early settlers for their critical role in the United States’ stretch to the Pacific Coast, “ with the help of businessmen and scholars. So, he did.

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When I was growing up, I thought summertime at the beach or the shore was pretty much the same everywhere. People crowded together with sandy paths between colorful beach blankets and a few with the shade of beach umbrellas – if they were lucky. Smells of hot dogs, sun tan lotion and cigarettes filled the air against the sounds of scratchy, treble-heavy transistor radios. In the distance was the constant roaring  static of the waves pierced with seagulls calling and childrens’ delighted screeching. Mothers kept track of their brood working on their tans and handing out sand-spritzed grapes, fried chicken, hard-boiled eggs and other  home made snacks – eaten with raisony, puckered fingers from staying in the water too long.

I learned that people and bathing suits were not created equal as I watched in endless fascination the ongoing parade of the various sizes of people and bathing suits.  The logistics of the variety of fit and fashion was certainly amazing for a small, curious girl and I really wanted to look like the “big girls” but knew I had a few years to wait. Of course,  I hoped my young girl body would grow up to look like the well-stacked teenagers who seemed to have the gift of finding the right suit. Read the rest of this entry

The other day was unusually gorgeous for this time of year. Crystal blue sky, flame torched alders burning against the background of the darkest forest green pines. Contrasts that pulled me away from my office and on to an adventure.  The rains would be coming soon enough replenishing this part of the world – but today, today was for me.

I went to an area with hiking trails not too far from where I live where there are several hundred hikable acres  close to a river. My deliberate vagueness on location has to do with what was to happen next. Read the rest of this entry