Road Trip to Baker City, Part III: Maryhill Stonehenge Memorial

 

 

He writes in this font, she writes in this font.

Last, a little late, but certainly not least, our final stop on our road trip was the Stonehenge Memorial. At this point in the trip, I was fully appreciating Guy’s advice to actually “plan” this trip out. I was able to do some research and track along the way all of the locations I really wanted to see. That fiancé of mine is sure full of wonderful ideas.

To make this stop we had to cross borders, over the river, to Washington. It was worth the detour and a perfect place to pause for a lunch break.

Eating almond butter and apple sandwiches in the car, we were blown away by how quickly and drastically the weather had changed. Slightly under an hour earlier, while daring death at the Rowena Loops, the sky was a deep, ominous fog that crept along the mountains. It was also cold and misty wet.

Just 31 miles east, we marveled at the clear blue sky with the sun sitting like a halo above the monument. “It’s like the weather wants us to have perfect shots.” We said this nearly in unison in between bites of nut thins and cheese. Enough eating, we had to go explore.

There was a lot to explore. The first thing we had to explore was the adorable puppy another visitor had on leash across the parking area. I was certain it was an Australian Shepherd. Guy has this idea that I believe every adorable puppy is an Aussie. I feel like I know an Aussie when I see one and this time I was certain. So, we did the only thing we could do in that situation to solve this mystery. Next thing I knew, as we were getting out of the car, Guy yells in the direction of the family with the mystery dog, “What kind of dog is that?” The family responds with, “It’s an Australian Shepherd.” That was that. I tried to hide my face of triumph, but I don’t think I succeeded. I’m pretty sure it just turned into a very awkward smile.

Yeah, she was right… now back to the Stonehenge.

The monument alone is an elegant tribute to the many young men that died overseas. On a beautiful day, walking around the large stones and taking glances at the vast view, it was sobering to stop and read how young some died serving our country. In a word, we were grateful.

Making our way around the monument and reading the names and dates, we found a tree perched on the cliff side. It looked like it wanted to be climbed. We obliged. After several attempts to get the timer on cue with Megan’s tree climbing, we finally got some shots worth keeping. Megan satisfied, I got to climbing higher up the tree as she rested in the grass. In flow with the day, the sun opened at the perfect moment for me to get some great shots of my resting beauty lying in the grass.

Fun fact: What’s not shown is Megan making friends with a strange little cat that laid in the brush.

Happy, I was ready to go onward to Baker City. Megan had other ideas. Fully understanding the Fifth Amendment and electing to invoke that right, I won’t say that we hopped any fences marked Private Property or explored the relics of an old cattle house. I wouldn’t make such incriminating admissions. I will say that Megan looked like the most beautiful cowgirl I ever did see. Well, when in Rome… err.. Washington. Yeehaw.