There are some journeys you measure in miles, and others you measure in the way they rearrange something inside you. Our four days in Oregon were the second kind.
We drove up from the Bay Area — my husband and I both love a long road trip, so we chose the car over the convenience of a flight.
With us were my four-and-a-half-year-old son, 10 year old daughter, and my seventy-year-old mother: three generations, one car, and a shared longing of seeking unknown.
We deliberately skipped Portland and the cities. This was to be a trip of nature, and nature alone — waterfalls and gardens, mist and birdsong, and the quiet that only towering trees can hold.
If you live in the Bay Area and have been dreaming of Oregon, let me take you along on our route. It is an itinerary built for people who, like us, would rather stand beneath a 200-foot waterfall and who don’t mind a long, beautiful drive to get there.
