From the Base of Mount Hood to the Top of Multnomah Falls

 

 Since my wonderful husband was in another country for our 27th anniversary this past August, it wasn’t until the beginning of September that we were able to take off for our annual anniversary trip.  We love exploring new places and this year, Jim and I decided to rent a cabin at the base of Mount Hood in Oregon.  It was somewhere between Government Camp and Rhododenron;  we were never really sure which sign to believe. 

The cabin was out in the middle of the forest overlooking the beautiful Zig Zag river and came with a temperamental woodburning fireplace that randomly smoked us out several times, and a bed in the master bedroom which was comparable to sleeping on a slanted table top.  Several hours into our first night, we gave it up and trudged up the extremely steep stairs to the loft to an overly soft and squishy twin bed which we shared.  At this point, toppling in toward each other was preferable to sliding off onto the cold dark floor.

The Zig Zag River out the back door.

 

It was perfect weather for a fire and hot chocolate one chilly afternoon when it started to rain.  We had some great talks here, cooked up some of our favorite foods together and even watched a movie.

One of our little excursions was to see Multnomah Falls.  As we drove into the state park and were looking for parking, the sign said the falls were only 1/4 mile away. 

 What the sign didn’t mention, was which end of the Falls we were at and that they were just kidding about the 1/4 mile -- which was unfortunate as I had decided to leave my tennis shoes in the car and just keep on my comfortable pair of Clark’s that have no backs, as I knew I could handle a quarter of a mile on a paved trail with no problem

We were at the bottom and Multnomah Falls started 650 feet above us, and of course there was no way we were leaving there without being able to say we hiked clear to the top.

This is what happens when you ask someone else to take your picture. 

 There was just too much of the falls to get in any one shot – but they were spectacular.

 When we FINALLY  reached this spot up the trail and  saw that we were to only Switchback 2 of 11, I about gave it up.

 The view became quite incredible as we ascended and could look out over the Columbia River Valley. 

This was a proud moment, especially since I had had to grip my shoes with my toes to keep them on as we went up such a steep trail.  I quit counting how many times I wanted to slap myself silly for not taking the time to go back to the car to get my tennis shoes.when we first started out.

I was tired enough at the top that I didn’t put up much of a fight when Jim tried to take my picture, and amazingly, my grimace almost resembles a smile. 

 What you are seeing here is the river at the top of the falls, just as it heads off the edge of the cliff.  Not the best place to dink around in the water.

 They had built a little overhang you could walk out onto to see the water make the 650 foot drop down over the edge.  These are the times I  pray that the engineer who constructed this contraption did not cheat in school. 

 It was a beautiful sight, especially when you were safely back down to the bottom and looking up.  And -- thinking that having to hang onto my shoes on the way up was tough, was laughable.  With every steep step down, my toes now rammed the front of my shoes. 

  

“Back at the ranch” the next day we found the greatest hike right out the back door of the cabin.  We followed a trail upward through beautiful forests and over streams.  We ended up on top of a knoll, surrounded in clouds. 

 

 

 What we didn’t realize until later that inside that cloud was magnificent Mount Hood.

 

I think this picture just needs some background music.

It was great exercise as we puffed up that trail several times  during the day to see if the view had opened up at all.  We never did see Mount Hood through those clouds -- which we would have if we’d only gone the first day we arrived when it had been clear and sunny.

 

There’s nothing like walking through the moisture in a cloud to do wonderful things to your hair, but just being with Jim made all the frizz, sore toes, aching muscles, smoke inhalation and table top beds worth it.  What a great time we had being able to talk and spend time together.  We grew closer than we have ever been before, and it ended up being one of our very favorite anniversary trips – even right up there with the one we took to Hawaii.  (And by the way, this in-focus picture of the two of us was taken by my husband after balancing the camera on a boulder and using the remote . . .)

Last year, President Uchtdorf shared this at a CES Fireside:

“There is an old story about a young woman on an archaeological excavation who discovers an ancient-looking lamp. When she rubs it, a genie appears, offering her one wish. She thinks for a moment and asks for world peace—that people would love each other and live in harmony forever.

The genie contemplates her request and finally says: “What you are asking for is impossible. The division among the peoples of the world is too deep and has existed for too long. Please ask for something else. Anything but that.”

The young lady thinks again and says: “Somewhere out there is the one person I was meant to be with. I want to find him—someone who is handsome, thoughtful, and has a sense of humor; someone who will help around the house, loves kids, doesn’t watch sports all the time, has a great job, and thinks first about my happiness; someone who will go shopping with me and who can get along with my family.”

The genie considers her request for a moment, sighs deeply, and then replies, “Let me see what I can do about world peace.”

This old story makes me laugh.  He does exist, but he’s not available.  I already married him.  It probably isn’t fair that I have been so blessed with such a man.  I surely didn’t deserve it – but I am profoundly grateful to God to be married to one James Blake Walton.

Three Harleys, Six Kids and a “Whole Big Bunch” of Rocky Mountains

Earlier in the summer, Kent sent out an e-mail inviting any interested parties to go riding Harleys with him at the end of the Chapman Family Reunion scheduled for Steamboat Springs, Colorado this July.  He got a couple of nibbles and some definite bites.  You are looking at the back side of the “definites” as they anxiously wait to sign away their lives in exchange for 24 hours of pure Harley bliss.

 Yep.  Just like kids in a candy shop—where  to start?

 

Kent found a motorcycle like the one that Jim was renting..  A true blue Ultra Classic Electra Glide.  Somehow, my husband with the least amount of experience of the three, ended up with the newest, biggest, most powerful model.

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I was hoping that Jim was not freaking out like I was at the massive size of this motorcycle that even had an armchair and stereo in the back for my cruising pleasure as he received a brief tutorial on all the “need to know to stay alive” aspects of this machine.

Marcy and Rhonda got to wear the white “I’ve Ridden a Harley and Survived” shirts.  My yellow shirt branded me as the  “I’m Not Really Sure I Want to Do This But If I Die At Least It Will Be With My Husband”  type.

 

The view to the west was a little disconcerting as the black clouds continued to build.  It was probably a good thing that we decided at the last minute to take all the official Harley rain gear they offered us.  They also had a place to leave our vehicle there over night as we drove back to the condos in Steamboat Springs.

The Rocky Mountains were beautiful, but it took awhile on the back of the motorcycle to get up the guts to get my camera out and start taking pictures.

 

I still think we looked like a bunch of German AWOL  Prison Guards.

We became very acquainted with the back side of Marcy and Kent.

The Rockies had some gorgeous views as well as lovely Stop signs..

 We started out with mostly sunny skies and could ride in just T-shirts, then the sun would go behind the clouds and we had to pull on our jackets, then the sun would come back out and off came the jackets, then the clouds would threaten rain and . . . Well, you get the picture.  This little dance went on for quite awhile.

There were enough high-tech gadgets to make even my honey happy.

There was one aspect of sitting on the back of a motorcycle that I never did get used to:  “Leaning into the curves.”   It just does not feel natural to lean so far down as you round corners that you feel the road whizzing by next to your ears.  Jim assured me over and over that motorcycles were literally DESIGNED to do this, but it made no difference.  Every time I saw a sign showing a curve or turn in the road ahead, my stomach automatically clenched, I would hold my breath and instinctively start praying.  Just for your information:  there are a LOT of curves in the Rocky Mountains.

Marcy had acquired skills that were way over my head..  She could pivot in her armchair, stay seated AND get pictures of the actual front side of those of us behind her.  And somehow, Kent could go around corners without leaning.  I know – I scientifically judged the angle as I watched them very carefully from behind to see if they appeared to nearly hit the pavement on their sides like we did.

This is what we were driving in to which only added to my mounting “excitement.”

It was fun to stop occasionally, chat, check out the view, stretch the legs and take  pictures of more than just backsides.

We had to come up with a plan that allowed Jim to get set and stabilized before I got on the back and before I got off as well.  The time I forgot the plan was quite memorable.  One man alone cannot a heavy Harley heft as it heads for the ground.

Some people look good in just about anything.

Some people just look like they belong in a helmet.

 

And the only word that comes to my mind when I see myself here is “Dweeb.” 

I know he secretly hopes there are Harleys in heaven.

And I have a feeling they are going to want to do this again.

I should’ve paid attention to those with experience.  Under NO circumstances should you EVER take off your helmet once you’ve been on the road.

 

These are the “those with experience” that I was talking about.  Notice their circumspect appearance.

 This nice lady loaned me her leather coat and chaps.  She somehow sensed my hesitancy in this little expedition and wanted to make things as pleasant as possible.  Thanks to her I was completely outfitted, even down to the sunglasses.

The bikes looked so good sitting there, that an Asian guy had his wife take his picture next to them while we were up on the rocks taking our own pictures.

As we climbed up the Rockies, the weather got a little more serious and we decided to start layering with all the gear they sent us before the clouds unloaded on us.  This was no easy task as  the underneath trousers had suspenders that were nearly impossible to adjust once you put the rest of the stuff on.  Especially later if your hands were frozen and most especially if you needed the facilities five minutes ago.

 

There wasn’t much that fazed this guy—either that, or his smile was getting stuck.

I can absolutely guarantee you that at this point of the journey my smile was beyond frozen.  If it hadn’t been for Rhonda’s wisdom and mercy in bringing all her ski gear to share, we would have been victims of hypothermia and frostbite at the very minimum.  It was pelting sleet and ice in a frozen wind, and we couldn’t feel any body part that was exposed to the elements, let alone see what was ahead of us because our glasses would fog up.  The road was under construction and was a gravelly muddy mess that slanted down to a deep ditch to our right.  These are NOT optimum driving conditions. We had to travel VERY slowly because construction was STILL going on in spite of the weather and traffic was barely moving when it wasn’t stopped for 20 minutes at a time to let the oncoming lane get through.  Do you know what that means when you are trying to keep a very heavy Harley upright? 

Poor Rhonda.  It’s hard to converse when your tongue is frozen in this position.

One nice thing about these bikes.  They had handle grips that were heated and boy did they come in handy as we crossed this section so high in the Rockies.  It’s always convenient when the driver’s hands can still steer even though the rest of the body may be frozen stiff..

I don’t remember where we stopped for dinner after we came down off the mountain, but I do remember that it took about 15 minutes to get out of all of our gear.  I wasn’t about to take off my helmet again, but my compassionate and loyal little sister Marcy, PROMISED me she wouldn’t laugh.

It was bad enough that she broke her promise the split second she saw my new and intensified  “Helmet Head Hair-Do,”

But when she couldn’t stop???

We finished the drive home to Steamboat Springs through the dark under the stars and a full moon, which to be honest, was very beautiful and could’ve been quite romantic had we not nearly plowed down a dead deer lying in the road while going 60 miles an hour.  My capable husband dodged it quite cleanly, but it left me straining my eyes for more unexpected surprises in the  dark and not feeling very relaxed..

The guys had to return the bikes back to Loveland by 1:00 p.m. the next day, so they opted to take a different road back that was much faster and not quite so scenic. 

 

I was full up on the beauty of the Rockies and quite content to let Marci take my place on the way back.

 Kendi was feeling adventurous as well.

“Parting is such sweet sorrow.”   Pretty sweet for me.  Pretty sorrowful for Jim. 

Actually, lest I leave the wrong impression somehow – it really was quite an adventure, and I would do it again having learned some valuable lessons and having earned my own white “I Survived A Harley Ride” T-Shirt.