Mount Hood for the first time
I don’t know if a lot of people remember the very first time they saw Mount Hood, but I do.
It was 15 years ago this October, and Amy and I had just spent a few days driving up the coast from California to start the next chapter in Oregon. We cut inland at Lincoln City, made our way over to I-5, and then headed to Portland. It wasn’t exactly a bluebird day, but the sun shone and the patchy clouds revealed plenty of blue sky.
And then, right about at the Terwilliger Curves, off in the distance, white with new snow, sharp and defined in the clear Oregon air, simply breathtaking — Mount Hood. It was a site like nothing I’d ever seen before.
Over the past 15 years, I’ve seen Mount Hood from all kinds of angles and in every season, every one unique and amazing. I think this time of year, however, though views of the mountain can be fleeting, is my favorite.
Although it’s raining something fierce now, last Thursday was simply too nice not to step out into, so Spence and I saddled up for a lunchtime ride to the park. It was one of those fantastic fall days in Oregon, blue and bright, the kind of day you go out and grab and hold on to so the long winter ahead won’t feel quite so long; a day very close to the one that greeted us when we rolled into Portland the first time 15 years ago.
And even though you can’t see it in this picture, the mountain was out and amazing, just as it had been then.