Scotty Odyssey—Portland and Mount Hood

We lunch in the yet-to-to-gentrified area of North Portland known as “Nopo,” in the garden of the John Street Café, and then set out to explore the city. We’d planned to spend two days here, but are dismayed to find a metropolis more sprawling, crowded and expensive than we’d expected. We stay in an RV park on the outskirts of the city, inserted cheek-to-jowl in a long row of gargantuan motor homes that make our 13-foot Scotty look more like a toy than a trailer big enough for two medium-sized people and one medium-sized dog.  Signs posted every four feet along a perimeter fence alert us to Rules and Regulations particular to this place: No Dog Pee, No Dog Poo, No Parking, No Speeding, No Smoking, No Trash Dumping.

Late afternoon brings oppressive heat, the kind of muggy weather that makes you want to flop down in the shade and never move again. We relax as best we can on the strip of grass between our trailer and towering neighbor RV’s. Basil gnaws a marrow bone, Dave reads and I practice yoga.When we wake the next morning to the sound of the freeway noise and a weather forecast of even higher heat and humidity, we pack up and flee to Mount Hood.

An hour later, we arrive at  Trillium Lake, where we camp for the night.

We share the place with families, fishermen and beautiful big blue dragonflies.

Despite haze from a distant wildfire, Dave manages to make amazing photos.