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When
we first arrived in Portland on September 9, we spent a full day
checking out every campground between Wilsonville and Fairview.
We weren't too excited about any of them so we decided to take a
break and drive through the Gorge.
On the
return trip, we took an exit through the cute little town of Troutdale
that was supposed to lead us to a visitors center. We never saw
the center, and as we were returning to the highway, Don pointed
out an RV park (now called Sandy River RV Park) without even a sign
out front that was not listed in our campground guides.
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It
was by far the nicest park we'd seen, with the Sandy River on
one side and Beaver Creek on the other. The gorge walls, alive
with evergreen trees, frame the setting perfectly. |
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Despite
the sign on the office window proclaiming no vacancies, we went
in and spoke to the manager and considered it miraculous that they
had two vacancies coming up on Friday. Besides that, their monthly
rates are less than any of the other ones we had been considering,
and they include phone connections as well. They do no advertising
and have no problem filling the park year round just by word of
mouth. What a fortuitous day all the way around!
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The
bridge across the Sandy River |
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Feeding
the ducks on the Sandy River |
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Our
homes are settled in their new yards now and we have already
met some really great neighbors with helpful tips about the
area. |
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This
is our back yard lined with blue spruce trees along Beaver Creek.
We set out bird feeders all around and the number who visit are
incredible! From finches to woodpeckers, we love having them as
our neighbors.
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The
tiny town of Troutdale is the eastern gateway into the gorge
and it is so picturesque with its little shops built to look
old-timey, but most are nearly new. |
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We
ate lunch in an old fashioned style general store with a soda
fountain area and gazed out across the street at the antique store
with its upstairs windows painted to look like Victorian ladies
in their homes gazing back at you. A few days after we arrived,
while talking to our neighbors, we looked up and saw black smoke
billowing across the sky. We walked the short distance to downtown
and saw that store in flames with the firefighters trying in vain
to extinguish them. Because the antique store and those on that
side of the street really are old construction, there were layers
of sheetrock ceiling over thick wood that begun a series of roofing
that formed voids for the fire to spread unchecked. The fireman
said there were no firewalls between four of the adjoining businesses
and they would all be wasted before it was all over. It was incredibly
sad to watch and we could smell the smoke all night long.
On the
first Friday of the month, our little hometown holds an "art
walk" and the art and antique stores are open late and serve
you wine and snacks as you walk into the shops. This just adds to
the charm and my enjoyment of this area we're in and am grateful
for the lucky "accident" that led us here.
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