seven to ten more miles to go

I've gone about eight miles at my slow, plodding pace, and am currently taking a break at Mile 90, about two miles past the turnoff for The Dalles Dam. I actually detoured, taking that turnoff in the hopes of finding a riverside spot from which to contemplate the big water. Unfortunately, the facility at Mile 88 isn't open to the public, and I had no intention of backtracking to the dam's visitor center, so I moseyed east until I found this pulloff, which is removed from traffic but visible to both eastbound and westbound drivers. It doesn't offer any shade, either; to get under the nearby bridge, I'd have to jump a barbed wire fence that guards the railroad track below me.

I'm just resting for the moment; my poor knee needs it. The wind's been blustery the entire walk today, with no sign of letting up. This was an issue earlier when I found myself on narrow shoulders, crossing bridges whose outer guardrails were merely jersey barriers, all of them below waist height. This scared the bejesus out of me whenever a strong gust shoved me and my backpack sideways toward the edge.

Wind and heights and fatal plunges aside, the temperature's been pleasant-- somewhere in the 70s. Quite balmy, not at all desert-like.

My motel was close to Exit 82; I walked east along 6th Street until I reached Exit 83 and got onto the freeway, but when I realized I was low on water, I got off at Exit 85 (still in The Dalles) and hit the Safeway, where I struck up a conversation with a very friendly florist named Dyane, who reminisced about traveling in Europe back when hostels cost only peanuts to stay in. I got my water, filled my Camelbak and two new Nalgene bottles (non-collapsible, alas, Paul C.), and headed back out into traffic. The wind's been at my back for most of this walk, and I think I won't have to worry about perilous bridges for the next few miles.

Right-- gotta get up and go.


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