Davenport, WA and the Columbia River

Today was another driving day. At the beginning, the field beside the road was blanketed with yellow flowers. I took out the flower book I had bought for Miriam to see if it would help me identify them, but they weren't included.

I stopped at the Visitors Center in Davenport to pick up a map of Washington State. The Center itself was nothing special, but it was staffed by two elderly men (even more elderly than I) who were especially friendly. One even gave up his seat at a desk so I could use the office computer to do some blogging. The man had some speech difficulty from a recent stroke, but we chatted a bit anyhow. I mentioned my daughter being in Costa Rica, and he said that his wife had also lived there for ten years. Our interaction was brief, but like so many of my interactions with people along the way, very pleasant.

Later in the day I was driving  beside the Columbia River, a beautiful stretch of road. At one point I stopped at a scenic overlook to look down on the river from the cliffs above. There was a sign there to "Watch out for rattlesnakes." I was watching out, but I didn't see any. I did see a historic marker about the Wanapum Indians who used to live in this area. They were peaceful and did not offer any resistance to the settlers moving into their territory. But were they in any way rewarded for this cooperative behavior? Not hardly! Since they were not engaged in fighting, there was never any treaty between them and the U.S. government. Since there was no treaty, they were never given any land. Today there is a state park named after them; there is a dam on the Columbia River named after them; but the Wanapum themselves, according to the historical marker, are "all but extinct."

There is also a campground named after them. I followed a sign and went looking for it, but I didn't find it, although I must say that the drive on a narrow road beside the river on one side and high cliffs on the other left me little to complain about. After giving up on finding the campground, I drove back the way I had come and sure enough, there was the campground with a sign posted about 50 yards off the main road so that it was only visible when driving back on the road.
A little further along the road was a sign saying that all sites were set up for RV's; I could occupy a site  with my tent, but I would still have to pay the RV price of $28. That was the last straw; the campsites did have a view of the river, but they weren't very private, they were charging me five dollars more than I had ever paid for a campsite for the privilege of having RVservices that I had no intention of using, they had given me a lot of aggravation because the signage to the place was so bad, and the campground was named after a tribe of Indians against whom we had committed genocide. Enough was enough!

 I headed out and found a private campground just up the road. It had reasonably attrractive campsites including showers, laundry facility and WIFI for $21.00. I took it. The lady at the store who signed me up had time to talk and we kibbitzed for a bit. She recommended that I take a short walk down to the river to just sit and enjoy the view.
It seemed like a good idea, and it was. I just sat for a bit and watched the cars going over a long causeway and bridge across the Columbia River. There was also a hedge of wild roses in front of me. An altogether pleasant experience.