At many points along the river, especially near Hood River, we saw windsurfers. Not surprising, this area had ideal conditions — it was extremely windy all through the Gorge. There were clusters of these surfers, moving very fast in circular patterns, dances. It looked like a tribal ritual.

Approaching The Dalles ("the gutters"), our eastern destination, the land went through a metamorphosis ... warm, golden hills, interrupted with greenery rose and ebbed on both shores. What a different personality this Gorge had taken, since we left Crown Point.

It was nice to feel the sun and heat ... we stopped at the US 197 bridge and took a good look at the Dalles Dam, which was built in 1954. Then we drove across to set foot for the first time in Washington.

The brown hills reminded me of California in the summer ... dry, beautiful. From this vantage point we got our first look at Mt. Hood from the ground, to the south. Its snow-capped peak loomed, mirage-like, in a great contrast to the summer heat rising from the roadway. Such a strange and interesting environment. Unfortunately, we didn't get into the town itself, which had many historic sites. We were pretty beat, and ready to head back to Cascade Locks.

Cascade Locks was named after the locks completed in 1896 to allow river traffic to avoid some treacherous rapids (cascades) without being portaged... but once the Bonneville Dam was built, a reservoir formed that flooded over the rapids. So after the 1930s, Locks no more.

Back at the hotel, we were constantly staring out our window at the river and the Bridge of the Gods. Indian legend says that the original, natural bridge, created by a mountain cave in, was destroyed by the sons of the Great Spirit — the great snow mountains — as they fought for the affections of Squaw Mountain. Today's cantilevered model was completed in 1926, then raised in 1938 to its present height of 135 feet above the river.

The light on the bridge, river and mountains kept changing, and the river traffic, infrequent though it was, was fun to watch. Paddlewheel tour boats went by, heading toward Portland then back again. The Union Pacific tracks ran along both sides of the river, so we heard the wonderful (during the day), dreaded (during the night) train whistles constantly blowing, while the ground shook. And then there were the barges, pushed along by tugs at a pretty fast clip. It was all so mesmerizing, I was afraid to look away, that I might miss something. But we were so ready for bed, it had been a very long day (we had been up since 3:45AM EST). We were somewhat dismayed to find the day didn't want to end. It was light until almost 10:00 ...

I peaked out the window very early the next morning ... the Bridge was lit by the low morning sun ... a pretty sight to start the day. We would cross it once, twice, three times, as we headed east along the river once again — this time on the Washington shore via Route 14. But just one last look at "our" bridge and Cascade Locks, please. We'd gotten very attached to this place ...

The view across to the Oregon side was great also ... it was sunnier than the day before ... there was a wonderful feel to this area. At one of my many "stop!" spots, I climbed up from the roadway, above the tree level and had a spectacular view. It was a happiness moment; this river, this country, was stunning.

We neared Hood River, across on the Oregon shore. We spotted the grand old Columbia Gorge Hotel, and the Hood River bridge we were about to cross. It was hard to leave this place; I took another long look back at the Great River ... then focused on Mt. Hood, ahead to the south, with its tip obscured by the clouds — our next destination.