Enchanted by Oregon
I’ve only had a fleeting taste of Bend and Portland, but it lingers on my mind, leaving me hungry for more.
I crave the grandeur of snow-capped peaks and the endless stretch of towering pines, their scent mingling with the crisp mountain air.
I long for slow meanders along lazy rivers under the soft caress of a warm wind.
I dream of evenings where the fire crackles to the haunting calls of coyotes echoing in the distance beneath a canopy of brilliant stars, and my clothes carry the heady scent of earth and smoke.
I yearn to feel the hum of the forest’s folk song in my chest—a song that belongs to mossy trunks, rushing streams, and unseen creatures.
A walk through the woods at our hipcamp
Our campsite in Portland
A sauna in the woods
Our host made a sauna in the woods
The drive along the Columbia River is heart-achingly beautiful, marked by waterfalls and numerous pull-out vista spots. Across the water, soft grassy peaks rise gently, interrupted by jagged rock outcroppings that add a rugged contrast to the serene landscape.
We wove back and forth across train tracks, passing slow-moving boxcars and old rusty bridges. There’s a quiet comfort in seeing trains lumbering through a landscape like this. Those trains take me back to childhood movies like Tom and Huck, Stand By Me, Dennis the Menace, and The Little Rascals. It evokes a yearning for simpler times when life felt slower, the world larger, and adventure began at the edge of your front yard.
As we drove by, I gazed out the window longingly at the glittering creek. If only we had more time to truly slow travel. To stop at every whim and soak in what we want; to have no plans. But there we were, with every detail mapped out, every stop planned. And yet, I couldn’t help but wonder if we’d forgotten the point of the sabbatical.
I made a silent promise to myself: