I think we started out on the wrong foot with the McKenzie River. Like most things in life it was probably a combo of things. As advertised, once we crossed over to the western side of the Cascades, it was raining, the forest was denser, and the sun disappeared. It was dark and damp, just like our psyche. The view was trees, trees, trees, the river, and more trees. It was a strange sensation being totally surrounded by beauty, yet claustrophobic. The trees were closing in on us and we couldn’t escape. I’m mulling around the idea of an Alfred Hitchcock type movie titled The Trees, about a couple from Southern California in an Airstream, that lose their mind in the Cascades. Thankfully, we were with friends and family. If they weren’t there to ground us I don’t know what would have happened….