The young hikers loading up outside the hotel in the morning — helmets, gear, the energy of people about to go somewhere demanding — I watched them from the parking lot and thought about the day before. The news had confirmed it overnight: a woman fell to her death near Multnomah Falls. Twenty-two years old.
I gave myself a minute with that. Then I drove to the waterfalls.
Monday Morning at the Gorge
The difference between a Sunday and a Monday at Multnomah Falls is the difference between a crowd scene and an actual experience. On Sunday when I drove past there was nowhere to park and people were stacked up along the trail. Monday morning I had clear shots, quiet paths, and the falls doing what they do without a hundred people between me and them.
The light through the gorge in the morning is the emerald fairy tale light that the Pacific Northwest produces when the sun comes in at the right angle through the canopy. Neutral density filter, F22, quarter to half second exposure, ISO as low as it would go. I got some shots I was happy with. Judge for yourself.
I also spotted what I’m fairly confident was a salamander, which reminded me that I once had a show concept called Commander Salamander. The character still needs development.
The Bridge of the Gods
The Bridge of the Gods connects Oregon to Washington across the Columbia River and costs three dollars to cross by car. I mentioned at the hotel that the front desk had told me you could walk it. The toll collector laughed and said I was the third person that day to bring it up. There’s no sidewalk. You could technically walk in the traffic lane and the cars would probably move for you. We are not doing that.
I shot time lapses of it from the balcony the night before. Car light trails over the bridge at dusk are exactly as good as they sound.
Des Moines Harbor
I had returned the rental car and was about to take the shuttle back to the hotel when I decided to drive around a little instead. I found Des Moines Harbor near SeaTac almost by accident — a small marina community with condos above it and boats below, the kind of place that exists right next to an international airport and somehow feels completely removed from one. God beams were coming down through the clouds when I got there. Last-minute find on the last day of Washington.
I talked to a young guy named Joshua who was there visiting his mother, a flight attendant who lived in one of the condos above the marina. He said a lot of retired people lived in the area, plus flight crews. Made sense. It would make sense to me too.
Fish and chips at Anthony’s right on the water. Cold air, the sound of the harbor, a meal that tasted exactly like where I was. That’s as good as food gets.
Oregon’s Magnet
I forgot to buy the Oregon magnet. The whole system — one magnet per state, one per national park — and I made it two states in before missing one. Amazon will handle it. Sorry, Oregon.
Alaska Tomorrow
The flight leaves early. I’m repacking bags in an airport hotel, still picking up pamphlets at the terminal like someone who hasn’t learned anything about what fits in a carry-on. There was a guy on the shuttle also heading to Alaska tomorrow — his flight’s at five in the morning, mine at nine, which is still early enough to require the kind of alarm that tests commitment.
I’ve never been to Alaska. That’s changing in about twelve hours.
In Episode #13 of my 50 at 60 journey, I begin the day photographing stunning waterfalls along the tranquil Columbia River Gorge on a quiet Monday morning. As I revel in the natural beauty, I continue to reflect on the tragic story of a hiker who fell off a cliff yesterday, a poignant reminder of life’s delicate balance. The adventure continues with a scenic drive to the SeaTac airport area, where I conclude the day with a breathtaking sunset and a delightful dinner at Des Moines Marina. Join me for a day of serene landscapes, heartfelt reflections, and picturesque moments.
