A few weekends ago, we had a "bachelor party weekend" for my brother in anticipation of his marriage. We rented a cabin on the bluffs above White Salmon in the gorge. The view was hard to absorb: Hood River to the west, Mt Hood to the south, Mt Adams to the north, the desert off to the east, and the river below us. I found a nice spot for my tent in a weathered grove of oaks right on the edge of the bluff. I laid there in the dark and watched the tops of the oaks whip around in the punishing and relentless wind. It was magical.
Monday, July 27, 2009
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"Ross Island, the bridge's namesake, was at one time home to a famous distillery. McArthur's Oregon Geographic Names, an indispensable work, says the island was once legendary for its "'Blue Ruin' whiskey of pioneer days . . . it was a fluid of high voltage." The distillery is gone, and now it is home to a large number of Blue Heron rookeries."
(Quote found here)
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