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The High CountryTo be a tourist is to escape accountability. Monday, September 3, 2001 I'm glad we aren't going home today! Apparently there were lots of problems with traffic, and many accidents on the roads we would have been taking. Jack's sister T--- left with her son A---. Jack and I wondered if we should go pick up H---, then see a movie? But after finding the listings for the Dalles, Oregon, we figured there wasn't much we really wanted to see. I was curious about going to the Gorge Discovery Center, but Jack wasn't enthusiastic. So we left it that we'd just probably drive over there and get something to eat. It's about a twenty minute drive over to Dallesport, where Jack's sister K---- lives. They were working on some of the tunnels that dive through the basaltic bluffs along the Columbia river, so we had to wait for it to be our turn to go through. That half of Klickitat county is very dry indeed; the country is mostly dry grass with some sagebrush here and there. We picked up H--- at the trailer park. Jack jumped on the trampoline, but immediately regretted it, fearing that he'd messed up his back by landing too hard on it.
In the Dalles, I saw a sign for Spooky's and suggested we eat there. It's an old pizza place with a peculiar mascot. They've apparently has just recently been taken over by the original owners' family. Wow! they definitely had some big sandwiches! My reuben was a triple-decker, and Jack's big foot burger was very impressive (but he forgot to say "no mayo"). I got to play pinball for a while, a machine themed with a a gopher like in caddyshack. We took the long way back at Jack's suggestion. He knows I like seeing the countryside. We went driving into the hills, along a twisty road that followed a canyon, up to Appleton. This crossroads is almost a ghost town, but a big log barn is being restored there. Jack drove the gravel roads back down to the Klickitat River. We stopped at the view where hang gliders used to take off.
We had roast beef for dinner. In the evening, I read library books, and re-read Katherine Patterson's The Great Gilly Hopkins. I'd forgotten a lot about it; maybe I'd never finished it? But it's still a good book. |
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