A rollercoaster of emotions for me personally to say the least. Safe to say, I will always remember this area for what happened just before I arrived to that pullout just before the fenced off Oneonta Gorge 🙁
I start the vlog with a creative attempt to chat, met with mixed results. Outside, it’s snowing, setting a beautiful yet somber tone for the day. I travel up the road to Mount Hood, capturing stunning B-roll of fresh snow on the evergreens and soaking in the serene beauty of the drive. The journey continues to the Columbia River Gorge, where I photograph magnificent waterfalls.
The vlog takes an unexpected and emotional turn as I witness the aftermath of a tragic accident at a cliff, a stark reminder of life’s fragility. With mixed emotions, I visit a fish hatchery and share my thoughts and reflections about the day’s events.
Columbia River Gorge, Oregon
I had this whole plan for the morning. ASMR video, no narration, just the sounds of fresh snow and a camera shutter and the mountain. Very cinematic. Very considered.
Then I looked out the window at the snow coming down and decided that folding laundry and drinking coffee was the more honest version of the morning, and that the ASMR thing was probably not happening today or any day soon.
I drove up to Timberline Lodge anyway.
The Mountain in the Snow
Coming around a bend on the road up to the lodge, Mount Hood appeared through the falling snow and I genuinely lost the ability to form words for a moment. Freshly fallen snow on everything, the mountain emerging from the cloud layer, the kind of cold and quiet that Florida simply doesn’t offer and that I had apparently been hungrier for than I knew. I pulled over, got out, took some shots, sent photos to the family. A guy from Philadelphia pulled up and asked if I was there for whatever event was happening at the lodge. Nope, I told him. Just exploring.
The snowplow driver came by while I was standing there — a man who sees this mountain every working day — and stopped to take a picture. I found that genuinely moving. Some things don’t get old no matter how many times you’ve seen them. That’s worth remembering.
It was over 100 degrees in Florida. I was standing in a snowstorm on Mount Hood feeling profoundly grateful for my eyesight. A few years ago I had retinal detachment surgery. To be here, in this light, and be able to see it — that’s not something I take for granted.
The Waterfall Gorge
The drive into the Columbia River Gorge waterfall area on a Sunday is the waterfall shuffle — the van ahead of me was literally called the Waterfall Shuttle, which is at least an honest name for what’s happening there. Crowds, trailheads, families, everyone pointing cameras at falling water. Someone was walking a pig on a leash. I noted this and kept moving.
I hiked down to a waterfall, got a few shots I was happy with, and was walking back up when I noticed the change in the atmosphere.
I’m going to say this plainly. A young woman — 22 years old, hiking with a small group of friends — separated from her group and fell from a cliff. I came upon the scene not long after it happened. The people I passed on the trail had witnessed it. There were ambulances, rescue personnel, and a white sheet covering something that I understood immediately.
I saw the moment her friends got the news from the officer. One of them just went down. Just collapsed. The other stood there with his hands over his head looking at nothing.
I sat in the car for a while after that. I called Denise. She said the right things. She always does.
There’s nothing useful to add to a moment like that. What I’ll say is what I said then: be careful out there. Stay on the marked paths. Don’t separate from your group. Respect the terrain. Life can change very fast in beautiful places and the beauty doesn’t make the terrain any less dangerous.
Herman
On the way back, because this day was going to be whatever it was going to be, I found a sign for the Bonneville Fish Hatchery and a Sturgeon Viewing Center. I stopped. Oregon’s Department of Fish and Wildlife operates the largest hatchery facility in the state here, and the centerpiece is Herman — a ten-foot, nearly 500-pound white sturgeon who has apparently become something of an unofficial state celebrity. There’s an underwater viewing window. Herman is visible from it. Herman is enormous.
I went from freshly fallen snow on Mount Hood, to the worst thing I’ve seen in recent memory, to buying fish food and feeding sturgeons in the rain. This vlog is all over the map. So was the day.
Hug the ones you love. Be careful on wet trails.
Hood River next. Laura Bushman’s gallery.
