Saturday morning we packed up and drove to Cooper Spur for an outing in the snow. This small resort is located on the other side of Mt. Hood, away from its bigger, more popular brother, Mt. Hood Meadows. The snow elevation level was very high and the roads were bare until we reached the actual turn off for the rec. area.
Once we arrived we discovered that the lack of snow meant that none of the lifts were operational. Early that morning the operators trucked in 30 yards of snow just so they could open the bottom half of the tube slope.
Rather than drive to the bigger resort, which had a deep base, we dedided to just enjoy the half run on inner-tubes.
B had a delightful time!
After an hour or so we stopped for lunch. We’d packed enough food for a small army and we had the entire loft to ourselves. The girls got a little silly.
A1 and A3 decided not to rejoin the tubing ranks following eating. A1 watched from the loft as A3 played in the snow.
A2 went back to the tube run.
I made some more passes then played in the snow too.
My DH creamed us in a snowball fight. I can’t hit the broadside of a barn, especially when laughing. No matter where we went he waited to ambush us.
Everyone was happy and in a state of exhausted bliss when we packed up and left after only 3 hours. On the way home we stopped by Multnomah Falls.
It was very crowded and we didn’t hike up much farther than the bridge in the picture below. It’s a little over a mile to the top.
Not only were there hoards of people to navigate, but lots of people had brought their dogs. And dogs being dogs, when ever they met up they would freeze, posture, sniff and greet one another. People both going up and coming down would come to abrupt halts. Most would wait patiently, but there were always one or two asshats who decided to plow through or squeeze around the people who were stopped for the canines. The trails that zigzag up the sides of the canyon are extremely narrow, with only a low wall to keep hikers from plummeting over the edges. Visions of someone knocking one of my girls over the side made me nervous. In addition to the dogs and pushy people there were parents who insisted on navigating strollers up the side of the mountain. It was sheer insanity and I started to panic. This cave/grotto is as far up the trail that we went before turning around.
Even after getting us all back on flat ground again it took about a half an hour before my heart rate returned to normal.
A plain stockingnet stitch knitting project went on the outing. All other WIPs require counting, watching and pattern reading… none of which are ideal while on a road trip.
Today I need to do some cleaning. Several days of leisure have left us knee-deep in laundry and filth. Cheers!
p.s. spell check doesn’t like the word “asshats” and suggested “arhats” as a substitution. According to Dictionary.com, an arhat is: a noun: a Buddhist who has attained Nirvana through rigorous discipline and ascetic practices. Arhat is definitely not the term I meant to use.