The 45th parallel

Somewhat reluctantly, I left the comfortable home of my good friends Marc and Lisa and drove north towards Mt Hood and my next adventure.

The exciting scenery travelled with me all morning. Bend looks like a ski town. It has low, scrubby trees, tall pines on the hills and bare snow capped mountains all around the city. Driving north the city faded into farmland, but the dramatic peaks of the Cascades were still on every side.

I had seen piles of lava rock near Bend. Now the volcanic elements of the landscape became more pronounced. I even drove past a number of rock formations similar to those on the Giant's Causeway in Northern Ireland and caused by lava cracking into columns as it cools slowly.

On my way north near a town called Warm Springs a small sign by the side of the road informed me that I was passing the 45th parallel. I was half way between the equator and the north pole and a very long way from home. I had a sudden urge to keep going until I reached the north pole, since I'd come so far already. Canada isn't far from here and the Cream Puff is built for cold weather. I could just keep driving.

I recovered my senses when I stopped for fuel at a gas station with one of the nicest views I've ever seen.

In addition to having a great view, it is also a full service station. I discovered that I feel immensely uncomfortable having somebody else fill up my car and wash my windscreen while I stand around gawping at the view. This is plainly an absurd reaction, particularly since it's their job. I tried to distract myself by reorganising some of the junk in the back seat.

In the early afternoon I crossed the Hood River, just past Mt Hood, and entered Washington State for the first time.