A blessed 57 degrees met us this morning as we went out to pack the car. Blessed! It was so refreshing, I can’t tell you. Mountain air, sunshine and 57 degrees. Who knew that would be such a grace today? It was a reminder of home as we anticipated being on our way home. But, first, we have commitments in Portland, and Portland awaits. It only took five hours of driving; four comfort stops; three passes through the mountains; two listenings of a two CD set of history and music of African-American lore; crossing one state line; and coffee, sparkling water, and a couple of hand fulls of trail mix, to keep us happy.

Of course, I had to capture one last picture of Mt. Shasta – in the morning light – as we traveled 65 miles an hour up the freeway. From a completely different vantage point, it was still just as beautiful, don’t you agree?

Passing into Oregon, we could see the difference in rainfall immediately – denser trees, more growth on the forest floor, and grasses along the road that are Oregon green, instead of California brown. It’s amazing to think that the mountains and the winds and rains all cooperate with each other to make our regions different and unique. It took us more than two hours to come completely down out of the Siskiyou Mountains. But each mile brought us closer to our desired destination – a meal of German food at a favorite restaurant in Clackamas.

An unfortunate accident along I-205 had Gypsy taking us out and around it on old Highway 99. We did make our destination and thoroughly enjoyed our soup, schnitzel, spaetzle, and pork meatballs. It was the carrot (well, actually it was the soup, schnitzel, spaetzle, and pork meatballs) at the end of a day of nothing but driving. And, it was well worth it.

After dinner we visited the local Costco, which was less than a mile away, for gas and a little walk. We found our motel and and began to relax to the cable news as the sun set with lovely pinks and violets shinning through the thin clouds outside our window.