The Columbia Gorge is the fourth installment of Finding My Way Home. To view the previous installment, click here. If you wish to start from the beginning, click here. This is the ongoing story of the six years I spent as a vagabond photographer.

I agree to go on ahead and set up camp while Chris wraps up his business in Pasco, so I’m traveling alone for the first time. My destination is Wind Mountain RV Park just outside of Stevenson, Washington. I program the GPS and set off. You know where this is going, right? My directions take me along the south side of the Columbia River to the town of Hood River, Oregon, then across the river to the Washington side to reach my destination. When I get to the toll booth, I look ahead at the bridge, and think to myself “I can’t fit.” As the toll collector takes my dollar, he smiles knowingly, as if he’s seen that same look of terror on driver’s faces before. This is from the website for the bridge: “Please note: Due to the very narrow travel lanes on the Hood River Bridge, drivers of large vehicles are advised to turn in your mirrors before approaching the Bridge. Rear view mirrors are often damaged by colliding with the mirrors of other vehicles traveling in the opposite direction.” If I had read this before, I would have chosen a different route. Not only is it narrow, it’s long—almost a mile. I make it across, with my mirrors intact, but am still shaking as I arrive at my destination, fifteen miles later. Another lesson in not trusting the GPS is complete. One day, I will actually learn these lessons.

This will be my first monthly stay. Since monthly stays are generally much less expensive, I’ve planned my budget to alternate between short stays and longer ones. And because the Columbia Gorge is full of waterfalls and wildlife and so many things to see, it’s a good place to stay a month. I have memories (and photos) from previous trips here, so my plan is to explore the lesser known, off the beaten path places.

Now, for the first time since leaving Yreka, I notice there are people living in RV’s who haven’t necessarily chosen to live this way. I suppose I was being naïve in thinking most people I would meet on the road would be either living the life I was living, or on vacation. It just didn’t occur to me, although it should have, that living in an RV is sometimes just one step from homelessness. In fact, I realize that I am also somewhere on the spectrum between “housed” and “unhoused.” This sudden realization is at once shocking, humbling, and slightly confusing to me. I’ve never considered myself homeless, but I am certainly “houseless” now.

Regardless of how society views me and my lifestyle choices, I have a robust agenda and a plan to live life to the fullest. I spend my first full day in the gorge visiting the Steigerwald Lake National Wildlife Refuge. I’m finding myself drawn more and more towards wildlife photography these days. I still enjoy landscape photography, but at least at the moment, stalking and shooting birds and other wildlife feels like more of a challenge. This particular refuge is home to a trail called the Gibbons Art Trail, which incorporates works of art into an interpretive nature trail through the refuge. It’s a beautiful, creative place to enjoy both art and nature. I thoroughly enjoy the walk and spot several “firsts” along the trail. I see my first American Bittern, my first muskrat, and for the first time, a great blue heron catching, killing and eating a snake.

High on my list of places to visit is the lower falls of the Lewis River. I have memories of visiting this beautiful waterfall many years ago with my ex-husband and I am anxious to create new memories of it. Takhlakh Lake, the lake the photographer in Pasco told me about, is also on my list. As is normal for this area and season, the weather is mostly cloudy and drizzly. I keep putting off the trip to Takhlakh Lake hoping for clear skies since the reflection of Mount Adams is the key photographic element of the location.

Finally, after visiting many of the waterfalls on my list, with no clear days in sight, we set off for Takhlakh Lake. The trip is roughly sixty miles, and not all paved. We stop for lunch at a tiny town called BZ Corner. When we finally arrive at the lake in early afternoon, the sky is overcast and the mountain is nowhere in sight. Being unfamiliar with the place, I’m not even sure where it would be if it were visible. I decide that photos of a beautiful alpine lake, even without a mountain reflection, are not so bad after all. There is no one here on a drizzly October weekday, so I walk the trail around the shore looking for a good spot to photograph the lake. I find a nice area with a fallen tree which will make a perfect leading line toward the opposite shore. Just as I finish setting up the tripod and camera, checking settings, and taking a few test shots, the sky begins to lighten. Before I realize what’s happening, the clouds part and there is Mount Adams, directly in front of me, blanketed in a fresh pristine coat of snow. And it’s making a perfect reflection in the glass-smooth surface of the lake. Unbelievable is the only word to describe it! Between stopping for lunch, stopping at a small waterfall, and the rough dirt roads, it’s taken us more than three hours to get here and not once during that time did the clouds clear. I’ve only been on the road about six weeks and already I’ve had more photographic good fortune than the previous four years combined. I’m starting to feel like this is meant to be.

The Columbia Gorge is filled with spectacular waterfalls, but there are dozens of lesser-known, and incredibly beautiful waterfalls in areas surrounding it. One of these is Falls Creek Falls. The most difficult part of the hike is finding the trailhead, which is located about fifteen miles north of the gorge. It’s unfortunate that such a remarkable waterfall has been given such an unremarkable name. Not only is the waterfall beautiful, but the hike is one of the most enjoyable I can remember, even in a constant drizzle.

Upon returning from one of the near-daily waterfall trips, I open my laptop to upload the day’s photos. The computer refuses to power up. I try again—nothing. Using Chris’s laptop, we search desperately online for a solution. We try all the suggested troubleshooting tips, both on the Dell website and others. I’m devastated when all symptoms point to a dead motherboard. The good news is I bought this laptop specifically for my new adventure and it’s still under warranty. I call Dell and they have me repeat all the troubleshooting steps I’ve already tried. They confirm that a motherboard replacement is in order. They ask for my address in order to schedule a technician to come out and perform the repair. I explain to them that I live in my motorhome and will happily bring the laptop to a repair facility nearby. They insist that my warranty covers on-site service and they will send someone to wherever I am located.

A few days later, a young man arrives with a new motherboard. He resuscitates my computer at a tiny RV dinette with a silly yellow lab whining at his feet the entire time. I apologize profusely for the working conditions and explain how I would just take the dog for a walk if it wasn’t pouring rain with fifty mile per hour wind gusts. He works diligently and leaves just as soon as we both confirm the computer is working and all my files are present and accounted for. Having worked in I.T. in my previous life, I know he will tell the story of the woman in the RV in the Columbia Gorge with the crazy dog for years to come.