The Continuing Saga...
This is a trickle of what roared over South Falls Yesterday
Yesterday afternoon was pleasant, a 30% chance of rain but there were breaks in the clouds. Any one who lives in the northwest knows that one has to take advantage of this when the weather report has been solidly about rain.
With an invitation from my walking buddy, the other bobble head babe, I decided to play hooky from writing and editing. Wow, it was a much deserved break.
The falls are located between Salem, Oregon and Silverton, Oregon. There are between five to seven falls only a couple of the falls can be seen unless one wants to take the approximate seven mile hike into the canyon and visit all of them.
We took our rain gear but the only water we needed protection from were from the falls. There are three falls where the trail leads behind the cascading water. The amount of water rushing over the cliff above us at the south falls had us pulling on our rain jackets and hoods. My sun glasses needed wipers.
While I love the falls and every season brings a new look, the spring is always spectacular. I have never seen so much rushing water or heard the roar all through the canyon. I was at the falls with an Australian author about three weeks ago. The falls were fantastic but yesterday the water tumbling over the cliffs had to be at least double what we saw earlier. Perhaps three weeks of nonstop rain had something to do with this.
The bobble head part came at the end of our treck. My friend likes to bring raspberries and mimosa. Yumm...
But... and there is always a but in our stories. The bubbly didn't have a twist off cap, it needed a corkscrew. Bobble head babe number two would not give up. First she tried to push the cork down with a stick--didn't work. Then she walked around the parking lot asking everyone still there if they had a corkscrew or a screw driver she could borrow for a few minutes.
No one did.
Then...drum roll please. She decided she could hit the bottle, break it open and without glass falling into the sparkling delicious liquid would have an open bottle of mimosa. Numerous, at least ten tries later, her arm sore from swinging the bottle onto a barbecue, she had not made a crack in the Bobble Head Babe resistant bottle.
There were three of us walking and together we were able to convince her that we could drive home, twenty minutes from the park, open the bottle the conventional way and enjoy the drink.
Happily we ended our adventure.