NOTES
Multnomah Falls, Oregon
One of those, "I can't believe it's real" views.
Nature removes the veil between civilization and the human spirit. I thrive in these environments and when I return to cities, I'm reminded of how uncomfortable I sometimes feel in them. This desire to return to a natural habitat grows stronger as I get older. Wandering the streams, waterfalls, mountains and trees makes it so much easier to quiet the mind and meditate.
We made it up to the overlook of Multnomah Falls where I let my bare feet get massaged by the drift of the cold stream emptying out from the high cliff. I sat on a large boulder, closed my eyes and listened, with all of my being, to the sound of water running through smooth stones and echo between the trees. Amazing.
We eventually made it to the Vista House, overlooking the Columbia River Gorge. The scene looked unreal...literally not real. It makes you feel small. It makes you feel that whatever we do to this planet, it will, as George Carlin said, "shake us off." Mother Nature will be fine, we're the ones who are screwed.
Email: info@carlosdetres.com
White Rose Estate, Willamette Valley, Oregon
First forays into Oregon's wine country. Not friggin' bad.
I left New Orleans on Saturday to meet with Aryn in Portland to kick off our month-long trip through the West Coast. While sitting near the window of the plane, I could see gorges, plateaus, cliffs, forests and sometimes a house in the middle of nowhere. As the plane descended into Portland's airport, the difference between this city and the one I'd left couldn't have been more stark. The area is green, hilly and beautiful without the usual blight one generally finds surrounding airports.
The next morning we headed to Willamette Valley to visit White Rose Estate. We made a right onto McDougall Road from the Pacific Highway, going up twisting roads when I suddenly said to Aryn, "stop the car!". She pulled over to the side and to the right of us was a gorgeous vista of grapevine groves, rust-colored soil carpeting verdant hills and, in the distance, the snowy peak of Mount Hood while, further still, through a haze, the summit of Mount Saint Helens. .
When I got to try the wine from this region, I wanted to ask so many questions. Of course I kept my mouth shut and nodded as taster pours were made into my bell-shaped glass. We walked the property and I grabbed a handful of the rust-colored soil, letting its soft grains sift between my fingers. I tried sniffing it to see if there was some quality about it that I could taste in my wine but I couldn't. To be honest, I wasn't really sure what to look for. Was it "earthiness"? I wanted to get closer to what it was I was drinking and the history of the agriculture that brought this wine to us. This was only my first day in wine country. I hope to learn a lot more.
If you have any recommendations, just list them in the comments. Thanks!
Email: info@carlosdetres.com
