Northwest Books for Christmas

                                         
ONLY A FEW MILES FROM ITS BIRTHPLACE IN EASTERN BRITISH COLUMBIA, CANADA, THIS CREEK-SIZE RIVER  WANDERS MORE THAN 1,200 MILES (about 1/3 of it in Canada)TO THE PACIFIC OCEAN AT ASTORIA, OREGON, USA, BECOMING AS MUCH AS SIX MILES WIDE BEFORE RUSHING INTO THE SEA.
The whole story in Columbia River (Caxton Press, 2013), by JoAnn Roe.

San Juan Islands: Into the 21st Century (Caxton Press, 2011) by JoAnn Roe
tells what happened in these romantic islands between the USA and Canada from about mid-20th century to the present. This is not another replay of the famous Pig War between the countries in the 19th century, but about barges, ferries, alpaca farming, lavender farms, small airplane access, Christmas Ship to remote island settlements, a doctor who might wade ashore to help a patient, orca whales, the ocean research laboratory that is compared to Woods Hole Oceanographic, four-star and family-operated resorts.  The real San Juan Islands of today.

Stevens Pass (Caxton Press, 2002), first published in 1997 by Mountaineer Books. JoAnn Roe emphasizes the difficulties of finding the pass from eastern Washington toward Seattle and of building a railroad through rugged North Cascades Mountains. The book describes beginnings of charming Leavenworth, logging, ski resort development, extensive railroad history that includes the 1910 Wellington avalanche (third worst railway disaster) and GNR's building of the Cascade Tunnel.

All three books are in bookstores and outlets all over the continent & some abroad.

MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL MY READERS. THANK YOU!!

COLUMBIA GORGE WINTER

THE COLUMBIA RIVER WESTBOUND just east of Portland and Vancouver/

It looks so benign in this photo taken from the Oregon cliffs, but winter brings another dimension. Remember that western Washington and Oregon have a medium warm climate in winter, around 45-55 degrees by day, while to the east, blocked from ocean warmth by the towering North Cascades Mountains, temperatures are much colder. Occasionally, the wind screams westward through the spectacular Columbia Gorge to bring cold temperatures to the west side. Here is my own experience.

In normal December temperatures I eased southward from Seattle on I-5 through intermittent light rain. My car radio blared Christmas carols, and late flowers and green lawns still decorated the streets and houses of towns. Very relaxed I moved along at a moderate speed to get to a book signing of The Columbia River scheduled for that evening at a Portland bookstore

Only about 15 or 20 miles north of Portland, still drifting along in mild temperatures, I realized the radio news was reporting car accidents and collisions because of ICE, ice a few miles ahead near Portland and Vancouver. An excited commentator said large trucks had slid sidewise into the guard rails on slanted roadways. Whoa, I thought. I did not even carry chains, as I had not expected to be traveling any wintry road. I slowed some and even more when the few rain drops began hitting my windshield as pellets of ice, then began to stick on the highway. What on earth was going on only a few miles ahead! I soon found out as wind gusts from the Gorge tried to push me sidewise.

No way was I going to cross most of Portland to the vicinity of the bookstore before finding a motel for the night after the signing! Now traveling at a snail's pace and remembering not to put my brakes on hard nor turn suddenly, I spied a motel at Portland's north edge and barely made it up its slanted driveway before I started to slide around. A real "chicken" on ice or snow (after all, I had been a Los Angeles resident before Washington), I would give up and hope the motel had a room. It did and, when I had to appear for the book signing, I called a taxi, no matter what the cost.
Only a few brave souls came to that event.

By morning the wind had switched back to a normal southwesterly direction, all the ice had vanished, and I headed north to my home in 50 degree temperatures as before. Conditions are very fickle in our winters, indeed.