Having spent the majority of my life in a city best known as home to the second-largest cast-iron statue in the world, I have a strong affinity for “seconds”: the runners-up, the underdogs, the salutatorians of the world. Seconds possess all of the qualities manifested in firsts but, for often obscure reasons, fall just a bit short. Seconds can be immensely more attractive than firsts. For instance, the Miss America runner-up gleans a nice scholarship yet does not have to spend the next year mentioning children and world peace every other sentence.

Last May, I found myself in Portland, Oregon, with a few hours to kill so I decided to drive out to Mount Hood, the state’s tallest mountain, despite the dismal afternoon weather—rainy with clinging, low clouds. Finally pulling into the Visitors Center on Highway 26, I inquired where, exactly, I might find Mount Hood.

“Probably won’t see it today, too many clouds. Report is it’s snowing down to 3,200 feet. Pretty unusual for this time of year, mostly clear in May. If you want to see some snow, you might make it up to Timberline Lodge. That’s at 6,000 feet; you got a four-wheel drive?”

“No,” I answered dejectedly.

“Well, you might drive around to the Columbia River Gorge. Sometimes clearer up that way. Lots of nice waterfalls. Might be able to see a few of them from the car even if the rain keeps up. Multnomah’s second highest in America, I think.”

The prospect of backtracking 25 miles was not appealing, but the afternoon was ripe for exploration so I turned onto a narrow, two-lane road totally unknown to the cartographer behind my highway map and cut cross-county toward the gorge.

I drove cautiously through the dripping rain over tree-shadowed ridges and into ravines of cascading waters, occasionally glimpsing a small cabin nestled deep in the woods, or emerging into high, open pastures promising panoramic views of Mount Hood, still cloaked in cloud somewhere above me.

Unexpectedly, I came to the end of my track to encounter Highway 30 and a sign indicating the Women’s Forum Overlook to the right. Turning into the overlook, I was rewarded with my first sight of the fog-filled Columbia River Gorge, which slowly emerged into view, blown free of fog by a late afternoon wind.

Driving east, I came to Vista House at Crown Point, a stone observatory constructed in 1918 on a rocky cliff 733 feet above the gorge. Here a helpful guide handed me a detailed map indicating the numerous waterfalls along Highway 30: Latourell Falls, Shepperd’s Dell, Bridal Veil Falls, Wahkenna Falls, Multnomah Falls, Oneonta Falls, Horsetail Falls, and Elowah Falls.

The first I came to was Latourell Falls, only a short walk from the road along a fern-lined trail. This impressive yet delicate waterfall plunges 249 feet into a small pool from which water rolls towards the Columbia River in a gently cascading stream.

Stopping at each waterfall in succession, I arrived at Multnomah Falls, which my guidebook says is “the most-visited natural site in Oregon.” However, late on this rainy, mid-week afternoon, the parking lot was empty of buses and RVs. Attendants in the Multnomah Falls Lodge gift shop were busy restocking their massive display of tourist treasures only a six-year-old can covet.

Multnomah Falls, I later verified, is the second highest “continuously flowing” waterfall in the U.S. and the uncontested highest waterfall in Oregon. Multnomah crashes its full 620 feet in two tiers. Despite being aesthetically pleasing, an arched pedestrian bridge spans the leading ledge of the second drop, providing visitors a jaw-dropping view at the upper falls and down to the lower, but bisects what would otherwise be an uninterrupted view of both falls from below.

From Multnomah, I drove east past Oneonta and Horsetail Falls until Highway 30 merged into Interstate 84 near Dodson. Across the Columbia River from Dodson sits Beacon Rock. Near this landmark, on October 31, 1805, the intrepid Lewis and Clark first observed the tidal forces on the Columbia and realized they were nearing the end of their quest to reach the Pacific Ocean.

I contemplated the tremendous effort it must have taken the explorers to reach this point in their journey. Did they stop to explore the waterfalls as I had? Would they even recognize the Columbia now that most of the cascades are under the backwater of three dams? Could they fathom that what took them months of backbreaking effort to reach is now traversed in a few hours by plane?

My musings were interrupted by a barge moving slowly upstream against the oily current; in waning twilight, I turned my car onto Interstate 84 towards Portland and was downtown again 30 minutes later. 

Photo Captions:
Photo 1: Multnomah Falls’ double cascade delights visitors and provides jaw-dropping views from the pedestrian bridge spanning the falls.
Photo 2: Near Beacon Rock, on October 31, 1805, explorers Lewis and Clark first observed the tidal forces on the Columbia River, promising an end to their quest for the Pacific Ocean, still 130 miles away.
Photo 3: Seen from the Women’s Forum Overlook, a clearing storm spawns a colorful rainbow over the Columbia River Gorge and the Vista House at Crown Point.