We had eclipse plans. Then we didn’t. And then we did. A tale of enthusiasm, hesitation, dithering, serendipity, and fulfillment.
“We’re going camping this weekend. I don’t know where, but I’ll figure it out and let you know.” That was the ultimatum I texted to Mr. Adventure on Friday morning. After what seemed like several weeks of deadlines and driving and pickups and drop-offs and more driving and more deadlines, I was overcome by a powerful urge to just get the hell outside. Preferably on a high trail, and preferably somewhere I could sleep under the stars. And — I can’t believe I’m writing this, but it’s true — I hadn’t been to Mount Rainier, my go-to park, my happy…
Salmon swimming in the trees? What, you think that’s not normal around here?
The promise of a sunny weekend enticed us to load the car and head to the mouth of the mighty Columbia River.
Golf, beaches, pools — who needs ’em. Give me desert hikes, palm oases, and chuckwallas.