Well, truth be told, Adam is too sophisticated to be anything like a tramp and I haven’t been called a lady since my mother ooo’d and aaah’d over my prom pictures. Regardless, we took nearly every trail at Cape Disappointment by storm.
We parked at Beard’s Hollow and worked our way north to south and back again, beginning with this lovely little cove. Around the corner to the right are a bunch of cute little crannies with people sitting in them in their trucks and SUVs. I want to come back on a Tuesday morning or something when the only thing laying on that beach are footprints and sand dollars.The cove sported a nice little waterfall that produced an alluvial fan of black and brown sand.Adam scored good pics of this feature while I screwed around trying to learn my DSLR with my trademark I-Wonder-What-This-Button-Does Technique. I was neither fast nor successful but I did manage to capture an amazing rendition of beautiful male muscles etched in relief. The left one (below) looks like the inside of a well-shaped right forearm and the right one like the side angle of a body builder’s right knee and calf. Mmmmmm. I looked around for the rest of him but no such luck; Poseidon was being coy.We hit the trails which took us south to this little escarpment. The cove is just on the other side.We explored abandoned WWII cement battlements, then took a moment to capture the illusive fan wave. When waves hit an object and double back on themselves to clap one another in a liquid high five, they often splay out into a glassy fan. This baby about five feet across was my crowning achievement after twelve minutes. Looks better if you click on it.Most of them just frothed and foamed like this….We headed over to the North Head Lighthouse perched on top of another hill. The Cape Disappointment Lighthouse on the other side of the jetty at the mouth of the Columbia River is the longest running lighthouse in operation on the west coast of the United States.On the way, we spotted some spotted friends.From the lighthouse, we scoped out our next quarry: the jetty. See the thin black line just below the water’s horizon? We’ll meet you there….The rock barrier along the jetty had nothin’ but love for us. We saw a feeding seal, too, round and slick like a giant black jellybean bobbing in the waves. He didn’t love us near as much and wouldn’t pose for paparazzi.Once again, we looked back and took stock of where we’d been. The fog was rolling in. Our stomachs were growling.Looking still further south across the gaping maw of the Columbia, we determined that the tallest, pointiest point on the horizon was Saddle Mountain.I love that interim between day and night when the last exhalations of light soften one’s vision and intensify the emotions. Everything looks like a romance novel cover.
We were too starved to go on so we made an emergency pit stop at a restaurant in Astoria and wolfed down salmon, roasted vegetables, mashed potatoes, and turkey. Meanwhile, I will peruse my camera manual and acquaint myself with two more buttons. I can only learn two at a time. The rest of my brain is busy planning the next hike.
February 22, 2010