Just off the Jet
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"I gotta see what vanlife is all about."
"Yes you do man, you'll love it."
Our plans came together last minute. With three days notice, Phil bought a round trip ticket from Newark to Portland. Escaping from the confines of a late spring in New York, the idea was to show him what the Northwest had to offer in a vanlife crash course. I picked up Phil a little after noon on a Tuesday, and we headed east into the Columbia River Gorge.
An ode to Lewis and Clark on the Columbia River.
Whatcha liken?
Glass off.
Shred sticks of yesteryear.
Blaze is a Ford Ranger.
Cascade Lakes.
Burned out snag.
Bench seats.
Frigid.
Beaver.
Burned out.
After three days of relitively pleasant weather for early spring, the weather turned south. Rainstorms that felt more like November than June marched in one after another. The temperature dropped.
"Do you want to fly out of San Francisco? I need to head that way anyway, and it would be easy to drop you off at SFO."
"I'd be into that. Cali calls."
"Plus we can get out of this rain. It will be nice down there."
"Sounds good to me."
Just like that our plans changed. Instead of hanging around Oregon for another four days, we headed south over the Cascades towards Cave Junction and the 101 in Northern California.
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