Multnomah Falls and Mt. Hood - Day 2

Our first stop this Saturday morning is Pendleton Woolen Mill in Washougal, WA. The AAA Guide Book says that tours are given on the hour, but when we get there, we see that tours are offered M-F only. However, the store is open so we browse. Mark remembers that in his closet hangs a Pendleton flannel shirt, inherited (Mom gave it to him) when my grandpa died just after we started dating.

Mark finds a beautiful suede jacket that looks so good on him, but it's over $200, which is too much for us. In the women’s section, I find a nice sweater in the sale bin for $25. We buy it, leave the store, and walk to the farmer’s market in the lot across the street.

The market is small with 12 or so tents with craftsmen and gardeners offering hand-made jewelry, wood furniture, crafts and fruits and veggies. We make our way to each tent and buy a quart of fresh, organic strawberries from a fruit vendor. She lets us taste huckleberries too since we’ve never seen them before. They are the size of blueberries and are reddish brown, more red than Mt St Helens ash. They taste less sweet than blueberries.

The local animal shelter offers a kissing booth in the final tent: for a dollar donors can have their way with one of the six cuddly cats there in cages. Mark doesn’t have any ones, so he puts a $10 bill in the coffer and tells the lady to keep the change. Then she hands me the most affectionate cat, so she claims, which I hold and pet for a couple minutes, but we are on a schedule, so back to the cage goes the cat, and back to the car go we.

We aim east and are hurting for a hike so stop at the next place with possibilities: Beacon Rock State Park. A lot with parked cars sit at the base of Beacon Rock to our right, at the edge of the Columbia River, and to our left a road leads uphill into the park. We choose to check out the park before climbing Beacon Rock Trail.

At the top of the ~two mile-long access road, we decided to hike the 1.5-mile Hamilton Mountain Trail to two waterfalls: Hardy falls and Rodney Falls.

















From the lot, the trail is uphill (or up mountain) the entire way to the falls. After taking in Hardy Falls and starting for Rodney Falls, we cross a bridge over a small stream. Eagle-eyed Mark sees a small garden snake on a rock. While we are fumbling with the camera, another snake joins the first one.

(Click the pic to zoom in on the snakes.)

Alrighty. We saw the falls and our knees then endure the hike down. We rest at the car and suck down some water and decid not to hike Beacon Rock because we were on a schedule with an aim for Timberline Lodge at the base of Mt. Hood. But before we checked in for the night, we have to see Multnomah Falls, at the suggestion of a co-worker who is from Oregon. So we keep moving east in Washington, eyes peeled for a bridge that leads across the river back into Oregon.

Several small recreation areas and boat launches line Columbia River. Still on the Washington side, we drive back a dirt road just west of the North Bonneville Dam, parking if front of what seems a good fishing spot because fishermen in 12 boats are here, and we ate and watch, but no one catches anything the 30 minutes we are there.

Just east of the dam, we cross the toll bridge ($1) into Oregon and stop to watch the windsurfers zipping along before we head back west to Multnomah Falls.

The lot for Multnomah Falls is packed full this Saturday afternoon, but Mark, again with his eagle-eyes, spies a couple walking and inches along just behind them to see if they are leaving. They are, and we take the spot they vacate.

Multnomah Falls is the fourth tallest waterfall in the U.S., and we hike the mile-long trail to the top of it, getting peaks of the Columbia along the way. The hike reminds me of the hike up to Timpanogos Cave in Utah with all the switchbacks and the steepness.

The falls are beautiful but the park offers nothing else. Well, at the top of the falls the trail goes back a couple miles further, but again, we don’t bring water or snacks, so again, our knees endure the hike down the steep trail and we drive back east and stop at a Coho Salmon fish hatchery; no big fish are out, only minnow-size.

Further east at the Hood River Microbrewery, we just miss the departing tour. We’ve been on several brewery tours before. We know what it’s all about, we reason. We decide to sample some of what they produce so enter the bar area, which has a sundeck overlooking the Columbia. Patrons pack both inside and outside the bar. We find a table and order up some brew. I am not a beer connoisseur, yet I order a Henry’s Hefe Weizger. Mark gets Pale Ale. Both are good. So good, in fact, that I want to taste a different brew to see if they are all good, to see if I’ve developed a taste for beer. I order an IPA (India Pale Ale), which got its name because it was brewed for the British soldiers stationed in India during WWII (please do not hold me to that, but I think that’s what the bartender told me). IPA tastes nasty so I order a different beer in hopes of covering up the taste of that one. Riptide is a good choice.

After four beers between us (Mark ordered just the one and tasted the other three I ordered), I stagger out to the car and Mark drives us south. I want to go to sleep but I’m the navigator so have to stay lucid enough to get us to the lodge. Once we’ve turned west on 26 and onto the access road to Timberline Lodge, I feel sure he can get the rest of the way without me, so I sleep—or so I thought.