Neither of us sleeps a wink during the night. The rain pours down and the leaves on the cottonwoods rattle like bones. I imagine the Snake River overflowing and carrying us all the way to the Columbia and then out to sea. It is suppose to rain all week.
Before leaving the area we check out the locks at the Lower Granite Dam. A tugboat is moving a fish hatchery barge. We wait awhile for the locks to open but then give up and head down the road.
Today we will drive to the Scablands on Hwy. 26 and to Pelouse Falls.
Our drive takes us through rolling Pelouse hills that fade from bright green wheat fields to pale yellow grass to dark plowed earth. As the farming fields fade away, we come to the Scablands, rugged rock that has been carved by centuries of erosion. Black rock that has heated, cooled, and cracked into tall volcanic walls. We take tons of photos in spite of a light drizzling rain.
When we finally arrive at the turnoff to Pelouse Falls, we are met by a friendly highway worker in a bright orange vest who tells us the road is closed due to construction.
We drive on to Clarkston, WA, looking for a warm room, a shower, and a steak dinner. A billboard announces the local Best Western has a “hot tub” and we plug the address into our GPS. Once there the kind lady at the desk tells us the best steak in town is at “Bojacks” downtown. She is right.
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