Reliving a Memory
Aug. 2021
Columbia River Gorge, Hood River, OR. Photo taken around 1977.
The photo above is a bit faded and grainy, now, after 40+ years, and the color in the negative is completely faded. I had saved up birthday money and babysitting earnings to buy my first “good” camera, a Canon AE-1 film 35mm camera. This was the first photo I took that really got me (Julie) interested in photography. But more importantly, I have had this photo displayed in a frame ever since to preserve a memory. All these years, I have remembered the details of this beautiful spot and this trip I took with my parents when I was a teenager. I remembered that to get to the overlook, we had walked to the edge of the bluff, down among some rocks with metal railings fastened on them. The only thing I couldn’t remember was the name and exact location of the motel where we had stayed that had the trail leading to this spot.
Thanks to the internet, I did a little digging, and found the motel was still there, although it has undergone renovations since the late 70’s! I hoped I would be able to go back and take another picture. When we got to the motel, I showed the nice desk clerk the photo and told my story. I asked if the trail to the spot was still there. She said it was, and she was very accommodating in letting us spend time there, although we were not paying guests.
We spent some time finding the exact spot. The trail was not marked, and seemed to stop before the overlook. I took some photos at the end of the trail, but the viewpoint just wasn’t right, and there were no rocks. We saw a sign saying “Danger, construction”, on a rope going across the trail. I was sure that the spot was at the rocks just beyond that sign. Craig went to look, and there it was. I was so excited to see it just as I had remembered it. The conditions weren’t exactly the same as the first time: back then the colorful sunset was reflected in the water, which was fairly smooth in a calm wind. This time, the colors in the sky and river were not great, and the wind was blowing very strongly, as it often does in the Gorge, whipping up whitecaps in the river. The first visit, there was a bit of serendipity in a train passing by on the tracks below us. No train this time.
On both visits, it felt like it was our secret spot. No one else seemed to know it was there. What a view to enjoy in peace! It felt as if time had stood still, except I missed my parents, who took me on the first trip, and who have since passed away. I took one last look as we left, and cried.
