I rode an all day circle along the Columbia gorge, into the mountains, and back to the hotel. Along the way: the Bonneville Dam. I am guessing most of you have visited dams, but I find them fascinating. Just few notes:

Bonneville Dam

I both admire and fear dams for the same reason: their power. You don’t mess with a dam. This one was a depression era Roosevelt project. What’s cool is that in its place was a 600 year old massive landslide through which the river had cut a path, but which already created an elevation drop. The river was backed up 150 miles at the time of the slide.

Rocks on the Washington side are unstable, which I see from lots of current rock slides riding North. But the Oregon side was stable enough to drill, and pour 750,000 cubic yards  of concrete.

The visitor center offers technology details, of course. But the majority of the info is about saving fish. Looks like renewable energy needs all the defense it can get.

Lots of Assurances About Fish

Above: There are multiple paths for fish: For fingerlings swimming towards the ocean; adults returning to spawning grounds. On the left: adults like to climb against the river. On the right, another bypass, which is lit, because fish won’t enter if it’s dark. Didn‘t know that.

And inside:

Power and…Fish

From the dam, big loop into the mountains, towards Mt. Adams.

Not the Bay Area Any More

From scenery to units of measures, sizes, and message board Wanted ads. This is all different from the Bay Area. You may need to zoom into the motorcycle to see.

One Regret on that Loop!

This loop went through a very-few-houses town called Glenwood. I’m showing the place here in way more detail than it warrants, to emphasize the magnitude of my regret:

Site of My Regret

It was getting late, and I was concerned about gas. The gas station some miles back didn’t have high octane, which, of course, my BMW wishes to imbibe. Even their Diesel fuel was sold out. The attendant was Chinese, and if I understood her correctly, she claimed not to know anything about other gas stations anywhere.

On approach to Glenwood, where I hope to find a gas station, in the middle of nowhere I see a banner:

Home of the Glenwood Mudfest

Many RVs parked out in the grass. Deeply inside I know, I should check this out. But I’m hot, and the gas situation has me worried, so I ride on some miles into town. The gas station photo above is by TripAdvisor; I didn’t think to taking a shot.

Of four pump hoses, only one was operational. Locals in pickups and hay trailers needed to take an awkward turn to access it, and they were lining up. But: that one pump did dispense 92 octane. No Diesel left, though.

While awaiting my time I talk to a local guy, who is none too pleased. With a bit of local tension shining through:

“You’d think with this amount of traffic they’d fix the pumps. They’ve been out since December.”

Pointing at a roughly 4ft diameter wet spot on the ground, right next to one of the fuel pumps:

“Got a leak, too.”

“Wow,” I throw in, “that’s not healthy.”

“It’s owned by the Indians, so it’s all falling apart.”

Lots of smoothly conversational contributions I might have offered. But they all occurred to me later.

“So, what’s the Mudfest?”

“It’s an annual thing. I’ve never gone to it. But I hear them from my house having fun. They have a water truck making mud, and then they do stuff in there.”

He hasn’t been to the once a year Mudfest, given the size and remote location of this town?! Granted, it took me decades to go see Alcatraz. But a Mudfest with nothing else going on?

I consider backtracking to see it, but I’m tired and hot. So I decide to think about backtracking as I continue riding. An interesting effect takes hold: The further I move away from the event, the greater my understanding that I‘m making a mistake. But the inconvenience of returning to the fest obviously increases with distance. Both, regret and inconvenience increase with distance. But the inconvenience rises a bit more steeply.

I should have backtracked. Here instead some photos from the Web:

I so should have backtracked: