Lewis and Clark headed up the Missouri, looked West, and saw some mountains they expected to reach any day.
The days kept passing and the mountains kept getting bigger, until they reached the foot of the Rockies.
Well, they got over those. And then they looked West, and saw the Cascades.
By the time they got through the Coast Range, they were stuck spending the winter at Fort Clatsop, in what is now Astoria, in the corner of the
Ourigan Columbia and the Coast. The journals from that winter are repetitive.
Wet and disagreeable.
Cold and wet.
Cold. Disagreeable. Wet.
They wound up eating their tallow candles for lack of meat.
In the Spring they bade Oregon weather good riddance and returned to Missouri.
Today Astoria is a small shipping town on the Oregon coast. We walked through the repair yards.
My father identified the boat on the left as homemade.
I believe the owner told us that his Metta Marie, which is now being taken apart, is some 80 years old.
Poor things want to be out sailing, and here they are propped up on land for repairs, looking out to sea.
Monument to the Unknown Whatsit
It really is that green.
Astoria is a very old town, and looks it.
It is still wet. But not disagreeable.