Valley of the Dalles

Hood River to The Dalles, Oregon. Sunday, May 19, 2024

I’ve always wondered about this town, with the odd name. It’s unusual to have the article “the” in a town name, I can only think of The Hague and The Bronx. Countries like the Ukraine and the Bahamas have dropped the article, once they became independent states. Anyway, it’s the largest settlement on the Columbia east of Portland.

It also marks the end of the Columbia River Gorge, and boy what a finish. The serpentine Historic Columbia Highway bike path outdid itself, as the screenshots of my route will testify.

Each of these twists and turns represented switchbacks up or down, but they were always well graded and never too steep, one bend even went through a dramatic tunnel.

And of course, they led me to spectacular views.

If you look closely at this last picture, you will see that one of my water bottles is missing. Sure enough, I accidentally knocked it over a 200 foot cliff. Reminiscent of that scene in Wild, where Cheryl Strayed/Reese Witherspoon hurls her too-small boots over a cliff in frustration (I stifled the primal scream).

It dawned on me that I was a litterbug. And here, in one of the greenest states in the nation. Looking up trivia about the movie, I found the producers were accused of littering also. Later, a hiker found those boots and they’re now enshrined in a bar in Seattle, autographed by Reese herself.

My trepidations about booking that fleabag hotel were not helped by my first view of it

But that was just the backside, they were also undergoing renovations. The front side was better and the room was actually fine, and 1/4 the price of that Holiday Inn Express.

Patti Elliot, the Warmshowers host who offered me her home a few minutes after I’d booked that fleabag met me for dinner anyway, at a nice Indian restaurant, and we shared our biking and family experiences. We got homemade ice cream at Shannon’s, and smiled at the whimsical paintings on the wall.

Patti capped off the evening by driving me up to a viewpoint above the city, for perspective of where the Columbia Gorge gives out into the Klickitat hills.

Followers of this blog will think I’m a broken record, talking incessantly of the kindness of strangers. Patti gave me lots of route advice, and warned me that the next stretch of this bike route was an “accommodations desert” with no Warmshowers hosts, motels, or even campgrounds for over 100 miles. Well, I’ve been pretty self-indulgent these last few days, still licking my wounds, reveling in the spectacular scenery, but only doing meager mileage. Now it’s time to step up. At least there should be a tailwind. Time to stop blogging and get to sleep.

Distance 29 miles, 751 total. Time 4 hours with stops. Elevation gain 1,672 feet

©️ 2024 Scott Luria