Category Archives: adventures

The 2026 PNW Miniature Show

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While reading the newspaper last Saturday evening I learned about the PNW Miniature Show. The following day, Sunday, was the final day of this year’s three-day stop in Portland. Because I (1) love details and deeply appreciate passion and craft, and (2) am on the hunt for doll-sized clothing and accessories for Michael, I decided to go. Reader, I was not prepared. This event was so fucking cool.

Doors opened at 10:00 am. When I arrived a few minutes later, the parking lot was already full—every designated parking spot already taken, people were inventing parking spots almost out of thin air, etc. Immediately I understood that I had underestimated what I was about to experience.

There were 49 vendors; a branded photo backdrop; an entire hallway filled with themed miniature scenes that attendees were invited to vote on; a free “make and take your own mini” workshop; and, I learned, celebrities/influencers from miniatures YouTube (who knew that was a thing? Of course it’s a thing!). It was chaotic and overwhelming and so much fun.

Michael and I walked the main floor several times, trying to take it all in without burning out (visual busyness takes a lot out of me), and stopping to pose for photos along the way. I had so much fun looking for items to photograph him with, and I was so charmed by how charmed and amused so many people were by Michael. The ladies at the front desk asked to give him an entry wrist band!! So many people asked to take photos of him!! Every vendor I asked allowed me to pose and photograph him with their wares!! One offered to make him custom-fit apparel!! It was the most fun time!!

There was so much of so many different things, all of it impossibly small. I found it all very impressive. Going into the event, I knew miniatures are a thing. Because I’ve never been into dolls or dollhouses or any other type of small-scale stuff or things (aside from Michael), I didn’t understand how much of a thing this whole scene is until I stepped foot in that airport hotel event center. I was truly blown away.

Because I had no idea what to expect and I have a hard time reeling it in when it comes to anything Michael Jackson-related (I mean hello I saw the biopic FIFTY—50!!!—entire times in the theater), I walked in the door with a $0.00 budget—and I walked out only $10.00 in the hole. A miracle! And you know what? That $10 doesn’t even count because it wasn’t spent on any miniatures. It was a tip for the pop-up typewriter poet, which I allowed myself to spend money on because buying a poem from the pop-up typewriter poet has been on my bucket list for years (YEARS!), and this was the first time I saw him since the actual first time I ever saw him—on a sidewalk somewhere downtown—and added “buy a poem from the sidewalk typewriter poet” to my bucket list.

His name is Matthew (@thetravelingtypist) and he was so sweet. If you’re ever in Portland and spot him in the wild, I recommend stopping to buy a poem from him.

The poem:

Life is always a Thriller
when you’re there by my side
with the King of Pop
I never have a Bad time
don’t mind my paparazzi passion
a photo shoot here and there
documenting our travels
when you roll up to the mini show
everyone is Off the Wall
wherever we journey
you’ll be my Jackson #1
to past memories Michael
and all those still to come

I also loved seeing that the Sidewalk Joy Map, which I’ve shared about before here and here and here, was tabling.

Some vendors were selling items they designed and made themselves. Others were selling items mass produced by big brands that they’d collected more of than they needed over the years. Everything from individual items of furniture and home decor to food and drink to apparel and shoes and accessories to toys to camping gear to musical instruments was available. There was even a miniature coffin for sale!

My favorite find was Miniette Co. She was the only vendor specializing in miniature outdoor-specific accessories. It came as no surprise to me to learn that the brand I liked best was the most expensive one there. Extremely on brand for me. I will absolutely eventually be buying Michael almost every Miniette Co. item.

I do regret not buying some of the items I saw while I was there, especially since many of them ranged from only $0.60 to $1.00 each and, I’ve since learned, don’t sell online for less than $2.99 each. Oh well. You live and you learn.

The attention to detail and the mastery of craft—I found it all very impressive and inspiring. I’m so glad I picked up that newspaper, opened it up and read through it, impulsively bought a ticket for the show, and actually followed through on going. There truly was not a better way to spend $22 ($12 admission and a $10 tip to the pop-up typewriter poet) and three hours of my day. What a wonderful, fun, and joyful little world.

Hiking the Pacific Crest Trail to Paradise Park Loop 757

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The other week, I took Michael to hike on Mt. Hood and—I cannot make this sound dramatic enough—I do believe it changed my life: I finished the hike grateful to be alive; with my desire to backpack Timberline Trail reaffirmed; in awe of the pioneers, who traversed similar (and even more severe!!) terrain without modern accoutrements and with enormous wooden wagons, livestock, pack animals, pets, children, and pregnant women in tow (it boggles the mind); and with a deeper appreciation for the intimate knowledge of, relationship with, and respect for this land (and its other inhabitants) that Indigenous peoples had to’ve had to thrive on said land for generations.

October 7, 2026, 7: 55 am, the sun beginning to rise over Mount Hood (far right corner), as seen from Zigzag Canyon Overlook, about 2.5 miles from the trailhead at Timberline Lodge.

We hiked the Pacific Crest Trail, beginning at Timberline Lodge, to Paradise Park Loop 757, a 13.1-mile lollipop loop with 2,838 feet of elevation gain. This hike was so unbelievably, indescribably beautiful. Frankly, “beautiful” doesn’t even cut it. Nor does “gorgeous.” Or “breathtaking.” Or “astonishing.” Or “magical.” Or any other word I’ve ever been exposed to in any language ever. Imagine: If hiking Hood elicits this response from me, I might actually lose my entire mind whenever I finally hike the Enchantments and in the Sierras.

A heads up: This is a very media-heavy post. During the hike, I took 192 photos and 20 videos with my phone and a handful of photos on a disposable camera that I’ve not yet dropped off to be developed. As I put this post together, I narrowed down those 212 iPhone photos and videos to 99 and then spent almost all of Saturday agonizing (agonizing!!) over paring that number down even more, even if just barely, to about 65 total photos and videos. Ywfms 🫡

We began at sunrise and I kid you not it took almost 20 minutes to go the first quarter mile because I kept stopping to take in the sunrise and the 360-degree views, and trying to capture both with my phone’s camera. A fool’s errand! The sky looked like a watercolor painting and try as I did, my phone cannot and did not do it justice.

Starting at sunrise was the right choice. Watching the light hit the mountain, as well as the surrounding rolling hills and mountains, and illuminate the fall foliage was incredible. And on such a clear, calm, and warm morning? A blessing, even. Plus, if we hadn’t started so early I wouldn’t have had as perfect of a setup as I did to whisper to Michael Everything the light touches is our kingdom and then giggle to myself like a small child.

We hit Zigzag Canyon Overlook, the first viewpoint on the route that AllTrails lists, shortly after my photo shoot at this boulder, at 7:45 am and 2.45 miles in. That panoramic photo at the top of the post as well as the handful of photos and the video below were taken from this point. About a mile down the trail from here there’s a water crossing, over Zigzag River. If you’re not comfortable with water crossings, or don’t want to or can’t proceed any further for whatever reason, hiking to here from Timberline will make for a memorable-enough hike.

The hike from the overlook down to the river is about a mile. It’s a beautiful mile. I wish I’d taken more photos of it.

Zigzag River was a little nerve-wracking to cross. It’s very cold, and the current is faster and stronger and the water deeper than you might think from your view of it at the top of the canyon. Also, while many of the rocks I tested out were sturdy and did not rock back and forth under my weight, they were very slippery. When I reached the river, I was the only one there and it took me about five minutes to find a place to cross that felt safe to attempt without help, should I need it, around. The spot I found was upstream, toward the mountain, and I used my poles for extra support.

Keep in mind that if you decide to cross water, you will have to cross it again on the way back. You may not be able to find the spot you initially crossed to cross back over on your way back. And even if you do find it, the way you cross over the first time may not be as easy to cross on the way back.

The fork at which you must decide whether to hike Paradise Park Loop 757 clockwise or counterclockwise is about half a mile beyond the river crossing. We hit it at 8:36 am and 3.94 miles in, and hiked it counterclockwise, which is the way AllTrails prescribes. You can’t lose either way. And also, I think going counterclockwise is the right choice, especially if you hike it early on a clear day. This is opinion is based entirely on vibes.

Traveling counterclockwise, we were treated to vibrant fall foliage and picturesque views of the sun continuing to rise overhead.

I brought a disposable camera with me on this hike. Sadly, I didn’t use it as frequently as I’d planned. I mostly wanted to use it to capture the early morning colors and ambiance. I wasn’t sure whether it was light enough to get decent photos without the flash, or if using the flash would’ve made for better photos. There were a limited number of exposures left on the rollI and I didn’t want to “waste” them by experimenting. What a ridiculous notion!! I regret not experimenting when I had the opportunity.

It was a truly perfect day for this hike. Clear skies, no bugs, warm temps (it was 52 F when we began and 76 F when we ended), no wind, and, because we began so early, very few encounters with other people—there were about 10 people on the south bank of Zigzag River as we approached the north bank to cross back over; the real crowds began just after we passed Zigzag Canyon Overlook on our way back to Timberline, as people made their way from Timberline to the canyon.

Every few hikes I’m reminded of how many different types of people there are and how many different types of choices they make while hiking. This hike was one of those hikes. It was at this point in this particular hike that I encountered one person wearing strappy sandals and another wearing very heavy-looking leather motorcycle boots. ON A HIKE!! On a trail that is almost entirely SAND!! It reminded me of when I was finishing up another longer-than-10-miles-hike last summer and encountered (1) someone wearing JEANS!! IN JULY!!! In nearly ONE-HUNDRED DEGREE weather!! ON A HIKE!!! and, a few moments later, (2) a couple who asked me questions about the trail and who, it quickly became clear, had no understanding of the trail, no map, no food, and NO WATER!! HOW!! And WHY!!

Something that surprised me: how small and jagged Mount Hood looks from up close. From a distance, she’s a majestic, perfect point. Up close, at least from Timberline and without snow, she looks much less intimidating. So much so that I looked up whether you can summit her from Timberline. You can. It’s only (“only”) a seven-mile trip to the top. No, I did not attempt. A trip to the top requires mountaineering skills and gear, even when there appears to be no snow, and there’s no proper trail to guide the way. I would love to properly summit a proper mountain one day. I need much more knowledge and experience under my belt as well as the proper apparel and gear before I even consider such an attempt. And I don’t think it’d be smart to do it alone.

We spent just under six and a half hours on the trail, with five hours and eight minutes of actual hike time. Before heading home we sat in the back of my car, soaking up the sun, refueling and rehydrating, and feeling very privileged to live so close to such a beautiful place, and to have the resources to access it.

A few “start of hike” and “end of hike” comparisons (some of these are repeats from earlier in the post; some of them are included only below). First up, the view of the sunrise from the Timberline Lodge lower lot vs. the same-ish spot roughly six hours later after we finished the hike:

October 7, 2026, 6:45 am
October 7, 2026, 1:26 pm

Mount Hood, from the trailhead:

October 7, 2026, 6:45 am
October 7, 2026, 1:03 pm

Mount Jefferson from near the ski lifts, just beyond the trailhead:

October 7, 2026, 7:00 am
October 7, 2026, 12:53 pm

Zigzag Canyon Overlook:

October 7, 2026, 7:51 am
October 7, 2026, 12:09 pm

The skyline view from Zigzag Canyon Overlook:

October 7, 2026, 7:49 am
October 7, 2026, 12:12 pm

This hike was very special and immediately became my all-time favorite. I’m so deeply grateful to live so close to Mount Hood, to have a reliable vehicle to get me there and back, to have the money to pay for the gas to get me there and back and the snacks and apparel and gear to sustain me on the trail, to have the time to spend an entire weekday on this adventure, to have the health and fitness to easily complete the route, to have the tools required to document it in the ways that I have, and to have a mind that appreciates it all. I am so, SO happy I got to have this experience.

Hiking Angel’s Rest – October 2026

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After getting back the photos from the roll of film I had developed the other week, I knew I couldn’t let this year go by without a single hike. So, I decided to hike Angel’s Rest—my trusty first-hike-of-the-season trail—and I brought lil MJ along for the adventure.

Because I like to hike alone and it doesn’t get light until later now, I started several hours later than I usually do—at the time I began this hike I’m usually on my way home or all the way back home. The plus side to this is, I got in a full session at the gym before setting out for the hike.

I was worried about starting later because it was a Friday, perfect weather, this trail is close to the city and very popular, I didn’t want to hike a crowded trail, and also I wanted to be able to park at the trailhead. I was also worried about starting earlier because I’m a woman who hikes alone, it’s dark dark at the times I usually begin hiking under full daylight in the height of summer, the trail is close enough to the city for a weirdo to quickly and easily access it for nefarious purposes if they wanted to, and also: cougars. Anyway. There was plenty of parking when I got there (and none when I left), the trail didn’t begin to get crowded until I was halfway back down, and I didn’t get got by any weirdos or cougars or, notably, my own brain. Success!

This was my fourth time hiking this trail (not counting a fifth attempt late last summer that was cut short by an encounter with a cougar), and my first on this side of summer. My first time hiking it, in 2021, was about a month before summer officially began, and it was cold and barren. The next two times I hiked it, I did so during the height of summer; it was warm (hot, even) and everything was in full bloom. I wasn’t sure what to expect this time. Summer didn’t end that long ago, so I knew it wouldn’t be barren. Still, I didn’t know whether to expect summer or fall colors.

The colors were beautiful!! So vibrant!!

On our way to the summit we of course stopped at the large boulder the size of a small boulder for photos. I wish I’d stopped on the way back, after the sun was a little higher in the sky, to get better-lit photos of Michael. Next time.

We hit the boulder a little under an hour from the time we set out, and hit the false summit five minutes later.

Once you clear the false summit and are back on trail and covered by tree canopy, the summit is only a few minutes away. We spent about 20 minutes at the summit—an extremely long time for me—eating snacks and soaking up the sun. The weather was truly perfect. I thought it would feel colder up there, with the wind and the water and all. I considered continuing on to complete the loop. I decided against it because I hadn’t planned for it and didn’t have much more water or snacks with me.

By the time we reached the summit, the sun was in the south sky, which made it difficult to get good photos of the southern parts of the 360-degree view. You will simply have to trust me that it was gorgeous.

By the time we finished, Michael was exhausted, this being his first hike and all. Before heading home, we sat in the back of my car and ate some more snacks (snacks are one of the best parts of hiking) and rehydrated.

All in all, a beautiful morning. I’m glad I didn’t let the season pass without at least one hike.

Note that this trailhead now requires either an Oregon State Parks annual parking permit or a $10 day-use fee to park at. At the trailhead, the day-use fee can be paid only via QR code; no cash, card, or tap to pay. Because many trailheads have spotty or nonexistent cell service, it’s recommended to buy your pass in advance.

A Belated Birthday Week of Whimsy

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Last week was one of the busiest, goofiest, and most ridiculous and fun of my life and I am constitutionally incapable of shutting up about it. Let’s get into.

Shortly after Michael was released in April, I began seeing people tweet photos of mini Michael Jackson dolls and the adventures they took them on. I was instantly obsessed. The dolls are so ridiculous and janky and cute, and the adventures fans took him on were so fun to follow. I considered buying one (all of them), but every time I sat down to, my Childhood Trauma—my father’s ridicule, directed at literally anything I showed even the slightest interest in, especially if was “childish,” which was the worst thing a thing, or person (A CHILD!!), could be)—talked me out of it.

After my trip to the dahlia festival on Michael’s Birthday Eve, I decided I needed to buy at least one, childhood trauma be damned. And so I went home, spent several hours stressing over which to buy, ordered three (a Thriller era, a Bad era, and a History era), and hoped to Michael they’d arrive before September 12, so I could him with me to an event I’d been looking forward to for weeks and weeks and weeks.

The dolls arrived earlier that week and immediately I decided to give Michael a Belated Birthday Week of Whimsy. We kicked things off with a trip to the Swan Island Dahlia Festival, for a proper photo shoot of Michael with the varietals named for him.

He also took photos in a couple of the photo stand-ins, and at a fountain that I didn’t notice during my first visit a few weeks ago. When I heard the water, I hoped hard that there would be a spot to easily pose Michael for a photo—it was just too perfect (iykyk (if ydk, now you do))—and fully died inside when I realized there was and saw the inscription on the bottom rock. Devastating.

On our slow drive out of the dahlia fields, we saw two deer. The first—a piebald!!—meandered out of the rows of flowers, pausing briefly in the road while looking straight at my oncoming vehicle. Once it crossed into the fruit farm next door, a fawn followed. Both deer seemed very calm and unbothered—not at all skittish—and the larger, more protective one held eye contact with me until I broke it.

There’s a strong association in the fandom between Michael and deer, and many fans interpret random deer sightings as visits from Michael. When I saw the deer walk right in front of my car I gasped, exclaimed MICHAEL! as I turned to my right to look at my three Michael dolls on the passenger seat, and promptly began crying. I 10,000% believe that first deer—the one who wouldn’t break eye contact with me; the one with the calm, protective demeanor; the one with the rare genetic condition that gave them white patches among their normal brown coats—was a visit from Michael. I wish I’d gotten a photo. My phone was within reach and my window was down; I could’ve gotten a great shot. But I was so entranced, and anyway there were other vehicles behind me. I drove away stunned.

After the dahlia festival, we stopped at The End of the Oregon Trail Museum. Everyone who knows anything about Michael knows that he loves history and to learn, and my current hyperfixation on the Donner Party Dizazz has me curious about everything even remotely related to their journey, both in general and in specific. Stopping at the museum was a no-brainer.

Actual fun fact: This wagon that Michael’s sitting on has been carbon dated to the 1850s. The hoops and the canvas cover are new, the rest of it is in its original Oregon Trail condition.

The most fun part of the museum: the candle-making station, which Michael took full advantage of and made himself a birthday candle for his birthday treat.

The second-best part: a free honey stick from the gift shop, a reward for completing the scavenger hunt and collecting all the stamps throughout the museum.

For Michael’s birthday treat, we went to Voodoo Doughnut, where they gave him a free doughnut, and where, of course, he had a photo shoot in the photo booth.

On Thursday, we went to the Practical Magic 2 premiere at a local theater.

At the end of the week, we indulged in some self-care: fresh manicures and a massage. We also got in a solid gym session.

When my kids were super young, we began a tradition called Ice Cream for Dinner: Once a month we went to Sweet Frog, a self-serve frozen yogurt shop, and let the kids literally have ice cream (well, frozen yogurt, whatever, it’s spiritually the same thing) for dinner. The tradition ended in 2020 when we began dispersing around the U.S. Last year, my middle child, who lives with me, re-established the tradition. This month’s (pre-scheduled!!) froyo day happened to fall on the Saturday of Michael’s Belated Birthday Week of Whimsy.

His order: cake batter, watermelon sorbet, and milk chocolate frozen yogurt topped with crushed Oreos, mini marshmallows, M&Ms, and sour peach rings.

Saturday evening we both got dressed up to attend the final event of our whimsical week of belated birthday adventures and celebration: a candlelight tribute to Michael’s music and legacy, performed by a local string quartet.

The event was held at The Old Church Concert Hall. I’d never been before. It’s gorgeous! Especially when lit by candlelight (even if the candles are flameless).

The quartet performed 15 songs—14 as part of the main program and one as an encore, following a resounding standing ovation:

  1. Bad
  2. Rock With You
  3. Human Nature
  4. Billie Jean
  5. Say Say Say
  6. We Are the World
  7. Man in the Mirror
  8. Smooth Criminal
  9. Black or White
  10. Heal the World
  11. Remember the Time
  12. Earth Song
  13. They Don’t Care About Us
  14. Thriller
  15. Beat It

There were two other songs on the program that they didn’t end up playing: I Want You Back and The Way You Make Me Feel. My guess is because of time (they sat us late, so the program started late, because one of the musicians was caught in traffic and arrived late). An absolute shame the only Jackson 5 song on the list didn’t get played.

I’m pleased to report everyone I encountered at the show was charmed by Michael and after I took the below photo, many (many!!) people asked me to leave Michael in place so they could take photos with him. Like, to the point that the venue staff asked us all to leave because we were taking too long and they needed to seat the audience for the next show, lol. What did they expect with THEE celebrity in the building!!!!

Honestly, I was worried all week about how people would react to a fully grown woman carrying around mini Michael Jackson dolls. Everyone was so great and seemed to genuinely enjoy playing along, strangers and my friends alike. Truly, the week was so ridiculous and goofy and fun. I’m so so happy I finally ordered these janky little dolls, and that I let myself have this week of whimsy. My inner child is still delighted.

Huge shout out to my friends for letting me spam the fuck out of their inboxes all week.

I made the crowns—quickly!—out of thin glitter card stock from Michaels the morning of our first adventure. The thinness was key. Thicker card stock wouldn’t have been as easy to work with. The two white glitter ones aren’t lined. The gold one is lined with the white glitter card stock. I used Mod Podge as glue for the lined crown. I cut the peaks of the crowns by eye. To avoid damage, I carried them around with us in a small plastic food storage container and took them out only when Michael was posing for photos.

Seven-ish hours in Seattle

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At the end of July, a friend and I took a day trip to Seattle to visit a store we learned about via an Instagram reel in April. It was my first time traveling (“traveling”) in years and I loved it. It was so much fun!! I want to go back!! For longer!!

We didn’t stay for long, we didn’t do a whole lot, and I didn’t take many photos. And yet!! We had a great time. The few things we did do: walked up and down the waterfront (which had me missing the boardwalks of the Mid-Atlantic so bad), took a Seattle Underground walking tour (you get a paper ticket!!!), had pizza with the best dough/crust either of us have ever had for lunch, killed some extra time between lunch and a ferry ride at the Klondike Gold Rush museum (no photos), took the ferry to Bainbridge Island and back (another paper ticket!!!), shared a Jimothy’s Trash Bandit Sundae from Molly Moon’s, and, finally, headed to Big Whale Consignment, which was the original purpose of our drive up.

Elliot Bay as seen from the waterfront a crystal clear morning with a bright blue sky.
Me, leaning against a chest-high fence along the waterfront, with Elliot Bay to my left and a Ferris wheel directly behind me.
Sign taped to the ice cream stand with an illustration of Jimothy, Seattle's famous and beloved raccoon. It reads: Jimothy's trash bandit sundae: sweet cream ice cream, chocolate pretzel crunch, vanilla bean caramel, birthday cake bites, chocolate chips, sprinkles, whipped cream, chukar cherry.
Overhead view of two large slices of pizza on red and white checkered paper atop paper plates on a navy blue table. My slice has cheese and pepperoni, my friend's has cheese, peppers, ham, and pineapple.
"Make it a boat day, King County water taxi" stenciled in bright blue on a wet sidewalk near the Seattle waterfront.
Me, standing against a railing while waiting to board the ferry from Seattle to Bainbridge Island. Elliott Bay and sky are bright blue, and a Ferris wheel is in the background.
My paper ticket for the ferry to Bainbridge Island.
Seattle skyline as seen from the deck of the ferry as it headed across Elliot Bay to Bainbridge Island.
Paper taped to Molly Moon's ice cream stand on the Seattle waterfront detailing the ingredients in Jimothy's Trash Bandit Sundae: sweet cream ice cream, chocolate pretzel crunch, vanilla bean caramel, birthday cake bites, chocolate chips, sprinkles, whipped cream, chukar cherry.
Close-up photo of the Jimothy Trash Bandit Sundae in a Molly Moon's ice cream cup placed atop an outdoor wooden table.
Building signage for the Big Whale Consignment store in Seattle.

Although we didn’t stay long, do much, or take many photos, it was a great day and the trip was a success. The weather was perfect, the activities were fun, I LOVED being near the water (I miss it beyond words), and I cannot wait to go back and spend a long weekend doing all of the touristy things.

Hike Passport: Summer 2026

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I’ve been on a roll lately and have several updated projects and completed projects to share in the coming weeks. Today, I’m kicking things off with my Hike Passport, which I’ve updated to include my summer 2026 hikes.

Angel’s Rest; hiked July 2, 2025. My third time hiking this trail (one of the few trails I’ve hiked more than once), and my first hike in three-ish years, after mental illness kept me off the trail for way too long.

Spread of my hike of Angel's Rest, a 4.6-mile hike in the Columbia River Gorge, summer 2025. Details about the hike are written on the left page, a photo of me from the hike is on the right page, with the date of the hike stamped beneath it.

Tom Dick and Harry Mountain via Mirror Lake; hiked July 8, 2025. Gorgeous views, entirely too many mosquitoes. Prepare accordingly.

Spread of my hike of Tom Dick and Harry Mountain via Mirror Lake, a 9.42-mile hike in Mt. Hood National Forest, summer 2025. Details about the hike are written on the left page, a photo of me from the hike is on the right page, with the date of the hike stamped beneath it.

Twister Falls via Eagle Creek Trail; hiked July 16, 2025. First (and only!) hike this season that tested my OCD. Still a little surprised my brain didn’t turn against me during this one.

Spread of my hike of Twister Falls via Eagle Creek Trail, a 13.3-mile hike in the Columbia River Gorge, summer 2025. Details about the hike are written on the left page, a photo from the hike is on the right page, with the date of the hike stamped beneath it.

Oxbow Loop; hiked July 23, 2025. The best part of this hike (“hike”): a body of water that I can spend hours upon hours lying next to and floating in, almost completely undisturbed by other people.

Spread of my hike of Oxbow Loop, an 8.31-mile hike in Oxbow Regional Park, summer 2025. Details about the hike are written on the left page, a photo of me from the hike is on the right page, with the date of the hike stamped beneath it.

Mount Defiance and Starvation Ridge; hiked July 28, 2025. Terrible. An absolute slog. Never again. Unless…

Spread of my hike of Mount Defiance and Starvation Ridge, an approximately 13.5-mile hike in the Columbia River Gorge, summer 2025. Details about the hike are written on the left page, a photo of me from the hike is on the right page, with the date of the hike stamped beneath it.

Ramona Falls; hiked August 8, 2025. Last proper hike of the season, and the last one I shared on the blog. Still can’t get over how big the falls are. Look how teeny tiny I am in that photo!!

Spread of my hike of Ramona Falls, an 8.7-mile hike in Mt. Hood National Forest, summer 2025. Details about the hike are written on the left page, a photo of me from the hike is on the right page, with the date of the hike stamped beneath it.

Angel’s Rest; attempted September 24, 2025. First attempt at a sunrise hike. Did not finish.

Spread of my aborted attempt at a sunrise hike of Angel's Rest in the Columbia River Gorge, summer 2025. Details about the hike are written on the left page, a photo of me from the hike is on the right page, with the date of the hike stamped beneath it.

Look. Listen. What happened was, I’d decided to end the season with my first-ever sunrise hike. What better local-ish spot to watch the sunrise than Angel’s Rest?

About 15 minutes in, I decided to try to capture in a photo for my kids how dark the trail was under the cover of trees. I turned on my phone’s flashlight to help illustrate this. As I began to lower my phone to turn off the flashlight and put it back in my pocket, the light caught a pair of glowing, yellow-ish eyes about 25 meters ahead of me, right in the middle of the trail. I froze immediately, staring back at the eyes, trying to figure out what to do.

I’ve said before that while I have experience hiking, I do not consider myself an experienced hiker. Partly because before this instance, I’ve never encountered wildlife on the trail before. Not knowingly, anyway. And certainly not in the dark, alone, in cougar country. I very quickly made the decision to calmly and slowly back away, then turned around and booked it back to my car. I was disappointed to not watch the sunrise from the summit, and I’m happy with the decision I made. Better safe than sorry. Especially when in the dark, alone, in cougar country, with a pair of glowing, yellow-ish eyes about 25 meters ahead of you, right in the middle of the trail, staring you down.

* * *

I’m pleased to announce that this set of hikes corresponds exactly to the number of blank pages I had left in this Hike Passport and therefore completes this volume. I’m sad to announce (1) I have only one Hike Passport remaining, which, like my other two volumes, has space for 20 hikes, and (2) the company that used to make them no longer does. RIP.

Hiking Dog Mountain

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Back in November (yes, this is a very late post), I went on a rare non-warm-weather hike. I hiked Dog Mountain, a six-and-a-halfish-mile out-and-back on the Washington side of the Gorge. I was skeptical it’d be “worth it.” Famously, along with being considered one of the more strenuous hikes in the area, Dog Mountain is, for a few weeks each year, one of the more beautiful hikes in the area (wildflowers). Having done this hike before, and therefore having some experience with it specifically and the terrain and scenery in the Columbia River Gorge generally, I wasn’t sure what to expect scenery-wise outside of summer. Honestly, I thought it’d be a visual bust—just bare branches and soggy, brown leaves—in addition to being a physical and mental slog. I was wrong.

Vibrant fall foliage along Dog Mountain Trail.

Per usual, I arrived at the lot just as the sun began to rise.

An orange sky just before sunrise in the Columbia River Gorge.
A selfie I took of my reflection in my car window, with the orange pre-sunrise in the background.

And per usual, I was on the trail about 20 minutes later—all I had to do first was lace up my boots, decide which attire to actually wear (jackets, in this case), eat a few snacks, triple-check my pack had everything it needed (which I also checked a thousand times before leaving home), pee (twice), and quadruple-check my America the Beautiful pass satisfied the site’s day-use fee (it did).

A sign nailed to a tree directing hikers to one of two routes: "difficult" and "more difficult."

I first hiked this trail three and a half years ago—in much warmer weather, a few weeks before peak wildflower season—and the impression of it I had then remains the same: it’s all lungs and legs, and it’s windy (and COLD!) as fuck at the top. There’s about 3,000 feet of elevation gain, and the ascent is immediate. It does not matter which route you choose. You will feel it going up and coming back down. If you’re like me on this day and (1) have to pee so incredibly badly but don’t dare step off trail to do so because there are more people than you expect and no clear cover to conceal yourself, and (2) forgot to trim your toenails, the descent will suck even more than the ascent—every steeply downhill step will stress test your dysfunctional bladder and pelvic floor, and have your slightly too-long toenails slamming into the toe box of your boots.

A sign directing hikers toward the Dog Mountain summit, 1 mile away.
Thin fog as seen through tall tree lining Dog Mountain trail.
Vibrant fall foliage—orange and yellow and green and rusty red—covering Dog Mountain trail.

I was pleasantly surprised by how scenic much of the hike was, considering it was November. The fall foliage was gorgeous. Much more vibrant than it looks in my photos.

For much of the ascent, the sun came out in bursts, with a few quick sprinkles here and there. Yes, it was pretty cold and windy on the stretches of trail that had no tree cover. It’s also true that the weather could’ve been a lot less pleasant. I’m grateful it was a mild morning.

A false-summit selfie of me, with the Columbia River in the background.
The sun rising over the Columbia River Gorge, as seen from a stretch of Dog Mountain Trail.

I summited shortly before 9:00 am, just less than two hours after I began. It was so cold and windy and foggy up there! While waiting for the clouds to clear, I celebrated with my favorite summit snack: a pack of strawberry frosted Pop-Tarts.

My disembodied hand holding an open pack of frosted strawberry Pop-Tarts against the fog at the summit of Dog Mountain.
Me, crouched down in front of the fog, giving the camera the peace sign with one gloved hand, at the summit of Dog Mountain.

For reference, here’s the view from the same spot pictured above when it’s not obscured by clouds/fog. (I took this photo back in May 2022.)

View of the Columbia River Gorge from the summit of Dog Mountain on a partly cloudy day in May 2022.

I will never not be charmed and in awe when one section of sky looks so totally different from another. I wish my phone camera captured how magical it felt up there.

Do you see that small, shiny area in the bottom left of the clip? That’s the trail!

I’m glad I stuck around till the sky cleared. A snow-covered Mount St. Helens was visible in the distance—and was much more striking in person than it is in this photo.

A perfectly clear and bright blue sky, and a snow-covered Mount St. Helens in the far distance, as seen from the summit of Dog Mountain.

I spent a little over an hour at the summit, which is for sure a record for me. Usually, I stick around just long enough to get a few photos, refuel, and rehydrate, and then I’m on my way. On this day, I took a little more time.

Late-morning view of the Columbia River through trees near the beginning of Dog Mountain Trail. The sun is shining above low-lying clouds.

Overall, a decent hike. Sure, it took much more of my day than I anticipated it would (partly because I spent so much time at the summit, and partly because of the needing-to-pee and slightly-too-long-toenails situations), and it felt WAY worse to me than did Mount Defiance during the summer, which sucked. It’s also true that it was about as perfect weather as you could ask for during fall in the Gorge, and the scenery was beautiful. I’m glad I went. I’d love to see it—even just once—during peak wildflower season. Maybe this’ll be the year.

The Portland Movie Theater Project

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Last November, I, a person who is not at all a movie person, not even in the slightest, decided that over the next year-ish, I’d watch one movie in each of Portland’s historic or independently owned movie theaters. The idea was inspired by the hundred-year-old diary I found at an antique market a few years ago. In it, the diarist recorded her daily life, including the movies she and her husband went to see. She recorded 18 movies in the diary and included a very short review for nine of them, sometimes as short as a single word (“Fine.”), never longer than a sentence (“We wished we had gone home instead.”).

Page from a diary from 1923. The relevant portion is quoted in the photo's caption.
Movie review from the bottom portion of the page reads, “We ate at Hazlewood [sic] at 7:15 [pm] then went to Majestic to see Harold Floyd in “Safety Last!” We wish we had gone home instead.”

My original plan was to watch each of the 18 movies recorded in the diary. I thought it could be a fun way to connect to and learn about both the past in general and the diarist’s life specifically, and a low-stakes attempt to do something outside of my usual creative box. I looked up each title on IMDB and Wikipedia and very quickly learned that all of the movies the diarist and her husband watched in 1923 were silent films (the first movie with synchronized sound didn’t release until three years later), which: no thank you!!! I’m not a regular, modern-day movie person. I’m absolutely not a silent movie person. Nevertheless.

In the process of trying to figure out how I’d approach this project, I poked around the Oregon Theater Project website to see if any of the theaters the diarist and her husband visited were still standing and/or operational (no), and I walked over to my neighborhood video rental store to see if they (1) had any of the titles for rent (yes), (2) had DVD or VCR players for rent so I could actually watch any of the titles I might rent (I forgot to ask), and (3) had any information or advice about how to watch a silent movie (no)—or where to find the music that would have accompanied each title when it was screened for live audiences (no) so that I could play the same soundtrack while watching the movies at home; or whether any local movie theaters screened silent films with live musical performances (not to their knowledge).

The front of Portland's last-standing and much-loved VHS and DVD rental store, Movie Madness.

Pretty quickly I knew that following through with this approach was more effort than I was willing to put forth. The juice, as they say, would not be worth the squeeze. So I decided instead to watch a movie at each of Portland’s historic or independently owned movie theaters, and I gave myself until the end of 2025 to do so. Close enough in spirit, and a much more manageable endeavor.

I ended up with 16 theaters on my list. (Some people will not consider some of these theaters to be independently owned. I wasn’t super strict with my definition—basically, any movie theater that (1) isn’t a big-box, brand name theater (AMC, Cinemark, Regal, etc.) and (2) is in the city went on my list.). To date, I’ve visited 11 of them, in the following order:

There are five theaters I definitely won’t be visiting, as they cater to an audience that I’m not part of and/or their earliest showtimes are too late in the day for me (my hyperactive autistic brain has a very early bedtime):

For all intents and purposes, I consider this project complete.

*

When I first started this project, I planned to make a very simple mini album documenting it, inspired by Jamaica’s “see it live” mini album and her practice of saving movie ticket stubs.

Screenshot from Pinterest of a mini album documenting the concerts attended by memorykeeper Jamaica.
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Screenshot from Pinterest of a ticket stubs collected by memorykeeper Jamaica.
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I envisioned including a full-bleed photo of each movie’s title screen (or, alternately, each theater’s marquee) on one side of a spread and colored or patterned paper and the movie ticket stub on the other—or, like Jamaica did here, affixing the ticket stub to a sheet of transparency over the photo of the movie’s title screen (or the theater’s marquee).

Screenshot from Pinterest of a mini album by memorykeeper Jamaica.
Source
Screenshot from Pinterest of a mini album by memorykeeper Jamaica.
Source

Going into this project, I was also hopeful that more theaters would have photo booths, and that I’d be able to incorporate the photo strips into a potential mini album. Alas, only two of the theaters I visited have photo booths—Laurelhurst Theater and Kennedy School Theater—and neither of them are film, neither of them produce strips in the traditional/expected orientation, and they’re both branded. Sad! (I do appreciate that both photo booths are reasonably priced ($6.00 card, $5.00 cash) and both give you two strips with the same frames, though I don’t like that one strip is color.)

Photo booth strip and movie ticket stub from Laurelhurt Theater, where I saw "Conclave."
Photo booth strip and movie ticket stub from Kennedy School Theater, where I saw "The Substance."

At this point, I don’t plan to make a mini album documenting this project. Uniformity is important to me in a memorykeeping project like this. If I were to make a mini album documenting this endeavor, I’d want for every spread to follow the same formula. That’s not possible here because I don’t have a title screen photo for each movie, I don’t have a photo of each theater’s marquee (some theaters don’t even have a marquee), I don’t want to use a movie poster for each movie, and the movie ticket stubs (“ticket stubs”) are, frankly, pathetic (I will never shut up about the decline and disappearance of well-designed, quality-crafted physical ephemera). Also—I’m sorry!—movies just aren’t that important to me. I don’t feel compelled to document this project beyond this blog post, and I don’t want to spend more time or other resources on it.

Ticket "stubs" from the movies I saw as part of this project, each in its own 3-inch by 4-inch pocket in a 6-inch by 8-inch page protector.

My primary takeaway from this project: more than not being a movie person, I’m not a going-to-the-movies person.

At the movies, there’s too much simultaneous sensory stimuli for my brain to handle. Things that other people can ignore, or that other people don’t even notice, command all of my attention (autistic brains don’t habituate to sensory input the way that non-autistic brains do; we are constantly taking in everything around us, which is why we become so overstimulated so easily and so often). Things like temperature; the volume and complexity of on- and off-screen noises; off-screen movement, which is especially disruptive in theaters that have seat-side food/drink service during the movie; smells—of food, of people, of the facility; and, as in one theater I visited (not pictured), visual clutter (T.G.I. Friday’s-style flair all over the walls, including above and on either side of the screen).

All of these things make it very difficult for me to actually take in the movie: my brain is too overwhelmed by all of the other sensory input it’s inundated with, and I’m too focused on not having an autistic meltdown in public. And that’s before factoring in the whole host of other health issues I have that make existing in public inconvenient, uncomfortable, stressful, etc.!

Title screen of "Conclave" as seen from the very back of the theater at Laurelhurst Theater in Portland, OR.

Do I regret doing this project? Do I feel like it was a waste of time or money? No. I got in a lot of good walks, I saw some parts of Portland I don’t spend much time in, I learned about two photo booths that weren’t previously on my radar (always a win, even when they’re not film), and I learned something important about myself—I learned why I don’t enjoy going to the movies. Having clarity about any aspect of yourself is always helpful.

Will this new knowledge about myself stop me from going to see the Michael Jackson biopic in a theater on release day? Absolutely not. Michael was my first-ever autistic hyperfocus, which first formed in the early 90s with “Will You Be There” and further developed upon my mom playing the first record she ever owned for me one evening—the Jackson 5’s ABC. By then, I was eight or nine years old, the same age she’d been when the record was released. I will use all of my spoons and every last drop of my sensory and social batteries to experience this movie in person, among like-minded fans.

The iconic Hollywood Theater marquee in Portland, OR, advertising then-current showings of the movies "Queer," "Heretic," and "Flow."

Best marquee: Hollywood Theater. For sure the most iconic movie theater marquee in Portland, and one of the most well-known alongside that of the Arlene Schnitzer Concert Hall.

Coolest campus: Kennedy School Theater. I wish I’d had more time to explore this place when I was there. (I haven’t gone back to explore it because I have no reason to return other than to explore it and returning only to explore it isn’t worth the spoons for me right now.)

Favorite title sequence: Gladiator II. My relief when it was confirmed it wasn’t made by AI.

Movie I most enjoyed watching: Conclave. Visually stunning.

Theaters I’m most likely to watch another movie at (if I continue to go to the movies after this project): Bagdad Theater (below) or Laurelhurst Theater. Bagdad is enormous, which means it’s very unlikely I’d ever be seated near anyone else; I like that it has balcony seating; overall it’s just a vibe; and it’s close enough to my apartment. Laurelhurst is the closest of the two theaters with a photo booth, and also I love their light fixtures (see two photos above).

Movie screen at Bagdad Theater in Portland, OR, displaying the title of the movie "Companion," as seen from the balcony.

Total cost of the project: $91.50, which is less than I thought I’d spend. To be fair, 10 of the 11 movies I went to were matinees; I didn’t buy any concessions at any movie; I purchased 10 of my 11 tickets in person, which was at least $1.00 cheaper per ticket than buying online; and I either walked to or parked in free zones for 10 of the 11 movies.

*

For the curious, here are the movies the diarist recorded in her diary in 1923, listed in the order she and her husband saw them. Titles are linked to their IMDB page. A review, if offered, is in parentheses.

Hiking Wrapped: Summer 2025

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After a nearly three-year-long, mental-illness-induced hiatus, this summer I finally got my slightly more mentally stable ass back out on the trail. Huzzah!

Too-close selfie of me near the end of Mount Defiance and Starvation Ridge, with the Columbia River in the background.
Toward the tail end of Mount Defiance and Starvation Ridge, crying on the inside, wanting so badly to be done.

To celebrate, I thought it’d be fun to do a “hiking wrapped” for the season.

Number of trails hiked: Six.

Total distance hiked: At least 56.6 miles (91 kilometers). Due to an egregious glitch in the AllTrails app, I have no idea how far I actually hiked when I hiked Mount Defiance and Starvation Ridge. The general consensus is the trail is at least 12.1 miles (19.4 kilometers), so that’s the distance I’ve gone with here.

Shortest trail: Angel’s Rest – 4.6 miles (7.4 kilometers).

Longest trail: Lower Punchbowl, Tunnel, and Twister Falls – 13.4 miles (21.5 kilometers).

Average trail distance: 9.4 miles (15.1 kilometers).

Total elevation gain: 13,477 feet (4,108 meters).

Least elevation gain: Oxbow Loop – 633 feet (193 meters).

Most elevation gain: Mount Defiance and Starvation Ridge – 5,984 feet (1,824 meters), at the god-awful rate of 1,000 feet per mile (20% grade) for at least five straight miles.

Average elevation gain: 2,246 feet (684.5 meters).

Total hike time: 24 hours, 5 minutes.

Average hike time: 4 hours, 1 minute.

Slowest pace: Mount Defiance and Starvation Ridge – 34:43 per mile (21:34 per kilometer).

Fastest pace: Oxbow Loop – 20:07 per mile (12:30 per kilometer).

Average pace: 22:30 per mile (15:46 per kilometer).

Best views: Tom Dick and Harry Mountain.

Most strenuous hike: Mount Defiance and Starvation Ridge.

Most memorable hike: Lower Punchbowl, Tunnel, and Twister Falls. Of all the hikes I went on this summer, this is the one most similar to the hike that spiraled me into acute mental illness in 2022 (it was the hike with the most exposure and the narrowest sections of (exposed) trail), and I got through it on my own without incident. Shout out to my brain and nervous system.

(I think I did the imperial-to-metric conversions correctly? Sorry if not! (I’m not the math-y type of autistic).)

Me, crouched down low at the summit of Tom Dick and Harry, Mount Hood in the background.
At the summit of Tom Dick and Harry Mountain, with Mount Hood in the background.

Other takeaways

Knee sleeves. After reading so many reviews and trip reports about how steep the trail is, and knowing how janky and cranky my knees are on level ground, I wore my knee sleeves (a lifting accessory) for the first time ever during a hike while hiking Mount Defiance and Starvation Ridge. Complete game-changer. I will never hike without them again, especially on steeper trails, and I can’t believe it took me this long to even think to wear them on the trail. I highly recommend investing in a pair if you find yourself hiking trails that aren’t compatible with your knees with any sort of regularity. The two main brands are Rehband (the brand I wear) and SBD.

Trekking poles. This summer taught me that along with knee sleeves, trekking poles are a middle-aged hiker’s best friend. It’s pretty incredible how big of a help they can be, especially during steep descents. I’m glad I invested in a pair when I had the money to do so. I would’ve been so fucked without them this summer.

Fanny pack. Another new day hike staple. I got real sick of having to stop and take off my backpack and dig through the top pouch every time I wanted to grab my phone to take a photo, or when I needed chapstick or a tissue or a new piece of gum or a small snack or a hair tie or whatever. So I took my ass to REI and bought a fanny pack (the exact one I bought was on clearance and is no longer listed on their website, sorry!). Another game-changer. Like knee sleeves, I can’t believe it took me so long to add this item to my gear.

My bright blue REI fanny pack, with bright orange accents, laid out on a rug alongside the items I keep inside it for easy and quick access while hiking—small snacks, hair ties, gum, Kleenex, hand lotion, hand sanitizer, chapstick, earbuds charging case, ID.

Maps, music, and podcasts. Downloading every piece of media there’s even the slightest chance I’ll need (or want) while on the trail—or during the very likely scenario of driving stretches of road that don’t have service—the night before my hike is the move. Trail maps, directions to/from trailhead, music and/or podcasts to listen to, etc.

Earbuds v. AirPods. If you’re going to listen to anything while hiking, I highly recommend wearing earbuds that loop around your ear v. AirPods. Like these. For safety’s sake, I wear only one of them and when I have something playing, I keep the volume pretty low. I think the volume on the ESCs is easier to control than it is on AirPods, the audio quality is better, the battery lasts longer, and there’s much less risk of them falling out of your ear and then you falling off a cliff while reaching after them.

Granola. The good news is, I recently discovered not all granola is gross. The bad news is, I learned this months too late for my summer hiking season. The other good news is, now I know and have another compact trail snack option for my next hiking season.

Early bird gets all the cobwebs. The biggest downside to being the first hiker on the trail for the day is you take all the cobwebs straight to the face. The best solution: waving one of your trekking poles in front of you as you hike.

Carbs. The best part of any strenuous hike is the carb-loading I get to do in the day or two leading up to it and again immediately afterward.

Experience/d. I have experience hiking. I’m not an experienced hiker. There’s a difference, and it’s important. There’s a lot I have yet to encounter; there’s a lot I have yet to learn. In many ways, I’m very prepared, even over-prepared, every time I step on a trail. In many other, equally important ways, I’m just as under- or unprepared.

Me, tiny, crouching in front of Ramona Falls, an enormous fan waterfall in the Mount Hood National Forest.
Ramona Falls, Mount Hood National Forest.

Parting thoughts

My original plan was to hike once a week through at least September, ideally October. By mid-August, some health issues (not mental illness) began flaring and I had to take a break. I’ve not hiked since. I’m frustrated I got in only six hikes this summer, and I’m happy I got in six entire hikes this summer—it’s six more than last summer, and the summer before that.

Meme of a farmer standing in front of his field with the text, "It ain't much, but it's honest work" across the bottom.
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Finally, and most importantly, my biggest takeaway from my time on the trail this summer: I wish I’d known when I was 17 what the Pacific Crest Trail and section- and thru-hiking were—I think I would’ve found on the trail what I spent too many years unsuccessfully searching for in other (wrong) places.

Hiking Ramona Falls

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Hike number six of the season, which was also my final hike of the summer: Ramona Falls Loop, a seven-mile loop along the Pacific Crest Trail in Mount Hood National Forest, about an hour outside of Portland.

A National Forest sign that reads, "Ramona Falls Trailhead" at the entrance to the enormous Ramona Falls trailhead parking lot.

This trail is fairly flat—there’s only about a thousand feet of elevation gain overall—and therefore very dog- and kid-friendly (dogs must be leashed). I saw a handful of families with children of various ages camping in the backcountry, including one family with younger kids (they looked to be early elementary school age) on a multi-day backpacking trip.

A sign in the forest along the trail noting which directions the Pacific Crest Trail run, and which way to go to get back to the parking lot.

I first attempted this hike in early June 2022. I went much later in the day than usual and right as I approached the river crossing it began sleeting and then snowing, which I, an unseasoned Oregon hiker at the time, didn’t expect so close to the start of summer. The river was flowing much faster than I expected, and the water was freezing. Combined with the surprise weather, being out there on my own, and my naturally extremely anxious and catastrophizing brain, I was too nervous to attempt the river crossing. I turned around and walked the mile back to my car.

My Letterfolk Hike Passport, open to the spread documenting my first, unfinished attempt at Ramona Falls in June 2022.

This time, I went much earlier in the day and much later in the season, crossed the river just fine both times, and finally finished this hike.

Like many Oregon summer mornings, it was overcast when I began (shortly after 5:30 am).

Overcast skies just beginning to barely break over Mount Hood (hidden by the clouds).

And like many Oregon summer mornings, less than two hours later, the sky was completely clear and the sun hung high.

A completely clear and bright blue sky.

Most of this hike is through tree canopy, some of it very thick overhead, which is a blessing on clear, hot day. There are only a few short stretches where you’re directly exposed to the sun. Because I went counterclockwise, I hit most of these stretches at the end of my hike. If you go clockwise, you’ll hit these stretches at the start of your hike; or, if you begin early enough on an overcast day, you’ll avoid most of them altogether. I recommend going counterclockwise; it provides a much more dramatic first visual of the falls.

Per usual, in the days leading up to this hike, I checked the trail’s AllTrails page for new reviews/comments. There was a single one that mentioned how enormous the falls are in person; how photos don’t clearly convey the size of the thing. Reader, that hiker was correct. This thing is massive. Look how tiny I am in comparison!

Me, from behind, looking up at the enormous Ramona Falls waterfall.

There are several spots to camp next to and just beyond (or, if you’re going clockwise, just before) the falls. Also just beyond (or, if you’re going clockwise, just before) the falls: incredibly beautiful cliff faces of rusty orange and milky blue and grey rock (?).

Looking up the very high cliff faces.

These cliff faces were enormous. They looked so slick and smooth and sharp and, with the sun rising overhead, they appeared at times to glimmer and glow. There was nothing about these cliff faces in any of the AllTrails comments/reviews I read. Coming upon them was a very unexpected surprise, and a much better unexpected surprise than sleet and snow and a rising, raging river.

Me, standing on boulders and looking at the huge cliff faces.

I wish I’d been able to better capture their beauty with my iPhone camera.

By the time I hit the river crossing on my return, the day was fully awake. Unfortunately, the sun rising over Mount Hood made it impossible to get a photo of the mountain in which it didn’t look completely washed-out.

Mount Hood, washed out by the sun rising overhead.

It was still early when I hit the river crossing on my way back—a few minutes after 8:00 am. I wasn’t ready to leave yet. The sun felt so nice, the scenery was so beautiful, and no one else was out there. So, I set up on some wide, sturdy logs, and spent some (more) time taking it all in.

Me, sitting on logs in the river, facing the sun.

This hike is fully in the backcountry. As such, there’s no cell service beginning about four miles before the trailhead. If you attempt this hike, make sure you’re prepared for the water crossing and for being completely out of cell service range; check recent reports about trail and river conditions in the days leading up to your hike. Download your trail map and any music or podcasts you plan to listen to on the trail before you leave home. You’ll be able to easily navigate back to the main road without GPS—there’s plenty of clear signage, and most of the time, there’s only one way you can go.

The parking lot is huge. It could easily fit probably a couple hundred vehicles. Both times I’ve been here, there’s been at least one porta-pottty; best to come equipped with your own toilet paper. The road leading to the trailhead is single-lane in some stretches and has some pretty gnarly potholes, though there are significantly fewer of them, and they’re much less gnarly, now than in 2022. Pay attention and, if you, like me, don’t have a rugged outdoor vehicle, maybe go a little slower than you think you need to. What a bitch it would be to pop a tire out there on a narrow-ass road several miles from cell service.