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….

Fun! Unhitching in the rain. I think she’s going crazy.

Camp Yale. Very odd campground. Just our three trailers and a crazy Seventh Day Adventist.

Basically how the weather was the entire time.

Dense

Crazy lettuce looking lichen.

Large Brown Slug (Arion Ater)

The McKenzie River Gang.
Roger, Amelia, Greg, and Pat.

More trail.

Densely forested.

The girls laughing at one of Roger’s stories.

One of the many bridges you walk your bike across.

Roger hitting an incline.

Amelia riding the McKenzie River Trail.

The blue hole along the McKenzie river trail.

All those Zumba classes are paying off.

Gail, two upping Amelia. Walking and drinking beer while hula hooping.

The last evening with R.