To See What's At The Top

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The Columbia Hills, Washington State

I see these hills on a daily basis, either looking down the road from our home above The Dalles, or dawdling between buildings at work. I emigrated nine years ago this Friday, and these hills never fail to make me realize how you can travel the world over and still find a place that reminds you of everything you left behind.

The Ochil Hills, Stirlingshire, Scotland

Such hills stimulate my romantic nature, especially that pertaining to all things Tolkien (think Rohan; "The Road goes ever on and on"). They provoke visions of quasi-Norse mythology, riding on horses in Princess dresses, and a desire to call myself Eowyn. Nothing whatsoever to do with this chap.

No, Sirree.











Nope, not nohow.

Lately the Columbia Hills have been causing a tingle in my perenially itchy traveller's feet. A desire has welled up to see what's on the other side, get as high up as I can, (as far away as I can?), achieve something. Say I did it. Scratch it off my bucket list.

So this past Sunday, myself and a couple of equally intrepid explorers jumped in a worthy steed, and followed The Dalles Mountain Road, with visions of reaching the utmost top. Nothing would hold us back! I would feel the gusts on my face and conquer that mountain, much as I did Dumyat in the Ochils! We braved single-lane rutted roads, clouds of dust, switchbacks, and oncoming vehicles. Theron's rosy cheeks in the back indicated that the 80+ temps were having some effect, but with the AC cranked up, we valiantly continued.

We were somewhat disappointed to find a gated entrance, approximately three miles from the crest of the hills, which insisted we park and continue on foot. Even given Cassie's be-flipflopped feet I might have had a hard time tearing myself away from our quest, were it not for the sign.



Rattlesnakes? TICKS? I know Eowyn probably had to put up with a great deal worse, but that was enough to send me skedaddling back for the safety of the Subaru.

But not before I'd had a chance to pose Theron for a picture. (Rosy cheeks!)

Or two. In what was probably tick-infested grass.


And the reason for the title of this post? Because my continually-questioning son, who is never satisfied with one layer of answer when there could be five, was silenced by Cassie's answer to his question of "But WHY are we driving all this way up the mountain?" To see what is at the top, said wise Cassie.

I think there's a life lesson in there somewhere.

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