South on US-97

Beautiful sunrise this morning, it reminded me of the mercies of God:

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;
His mercies never come to an end;
They are new every morning;
Great is your faithfulness.
Lamentations 3:22-23

I like the conclusion that the author of Lamentations arrives at in the next verse:

“The Lord is my portion,” says my soul,
“Therefore I will hope in him.”

Because his mercies never come to an end, therefore I will hope in him.  And that is not a false hope, that is not hope in vain.  That is hope in God whose steadfast love never ceases.

A trip like this would not be possible without the generosity and hospitality of others.  Yesterday I gave a shout out to my kids who have been looking after my place back home, today we are thankful for the hospitality of Duane & Cheryl (and Elizabeth) who put up with us for a few days.  They opened up their home as a home base--a place to refuel, to resupply, to do the laundry, to enjoy meals not prepared in a tiny galley and eaten on a postage-stamp-sized table, and to enjoy the fellowship of family. Thank you for everything, and thank you for the cookies.  They’re Grrrreat!

We bade goodbye to Duane and Cheryl and Elizabeth and hit the road going south on US-97, looking to make it to somewhere around the Bend, Oregon, area.

I got my picture of Mount Adams this morning, taken from the Zillah Cemetery.  So our first stop was about one mile from where we started.

Just on the south side of the Satus Pass summit, there is a Monastery, visible on the left side of the road.  A sign by the side of the road said “St. John’s Bakery”.  Since it was about snack time, I hit the brakes and turned into the parking lot.

The Monastery of St. John the Forerunner is a Greek Orthodox women’s monastic community, housing about 30 nuns and novices, nestled in the trees near Goldendale, and supports itself partly by the traditional Greek food and pastries in this bakery.  We browsed the small store and finally settled on a Kotopita, a chicken and cheese pita, or so the sign said.  It wasn’t anything like any pita I have ever had, rather it was closer to the flakiness of baclava, or perhaps a croissant, with chicken and cheese in it.  It was unexpected to have chicken in a pastry, but it was quite good, being more like a small meal than a snack.

We crossed into Oregon on US-97, past the thousands of wind turbines on the slopes over the river.  There were a lot of wind turbines the last time I was through here several years ago, but nothing like this.  Literally.  Thousands.  As far as the eye can see.

We left those behind and entered a high desert of mostly ranches and wheat farms for many miles.  This eventually gave way to foothills as we skirted the Cascade Range to the east.  We stopped at the Crooked River Gorge to stretch and to peer down at the river, 300 feet below. The old bridge, built in 1926, was eventually retired and used as a pedestrian bridge when a new bridge was built in 2000, and a rest area was added, allowing people to view the river and the other bridges from the old bridge.  The Thee Sisters can be seen over the nearby railroad bridge, making for a cool picture.  Nice stopping off place with some great scenery.

We stopped in Bend to take a hike up Pilot Butte.  This reminded me a lot of Camelback Mountain in Phoenix, a mountain right in the middle of the city which is a popular hiking destination.  Likewise, this butte is right in the middle of the city, offering 360-degree views of the city and the mountain ranges beyond.  The hike wasn’t as much of a rock scramble as Camelback, but it definitely gave us some exercise.

Bend, Oregon has become an outdoor enthusiast’s Mecca, unfortunately, it has become a victim of its own success.  Being one of the fastest growing cities in the United States, the influx of people seeking recreational opportunities and good weather has won the resentment of the long-time residents, who bristle at the congestion and the inflated property values created by the increased population.  Indeed, we noticed it took more than one cycle to make it through some of the traffic lights, and it just gives a big-city vibe.  We decided to move on.

About 10 miles south of Bend is the Newberry National Volcanic Monument.  We found out online that most of the visitor resources are closed for the season, but we just wanted to hike the trails, so we drove there, arriving at about 5pm.  We were the only ones in the parking lot other than a park service pickup truck.  We hiked the Trail of the Molten Land, a paved trail that winds through a moonscape of lava rock piles surrounding Lava Butte.

The park closes at dusk, so we didn’t have any time to do anything else.  We left and found a nearby Forest Service road where we boondocked for the night, arriving here just as it was getting dark.

Checking the weather, there’s snow predicted for this evening, so we are being driven farther south by the weather.