The Columbia River Gorge tells a wide range of stories, some obvious, some not so much. Fortunately the Discovery Center and the Interpretive Center that we visited – one at each end of the gorge – present a pretty honest appraisal of the history of the area, including the gritty aspects along with the sublime. These stories include the geological formation (combining volcanoes and glaciers), exploration by Lewis and Clark at the direction of Thomas Jefferson, Native American history and the role of salmon as a source of food and cultural sustenance, settlement by european-americans in search of land and a better life, exploitation of the apparently endless abundance, awareness of and attraction to the gorge by visitors, and celebration and protection of the gorge running in parallel with political wrangling over the river’s future.
The most recent story concerns the Confluence Project, a donor-supported effort that connects people to place through art and education. It works in collaboration with Northwest communities, tribes and celebrated artist Maya Lin to create reflective moments that can shape the future of the Columbia River system. Six public art installations, plus educational programs, community engagement and digital sites focus on a series of places visited by Lewis and Clark, what they meant then, and what they contribute now. These six projects span 438 miles from the mouth of the Columbia River to the gateway to Hell’s Canyon, with sites in both Oregon and Washington (so technically there are only two, Sandy River and Celilo Falls, within the gorge itself).
Currently, four of the six sites are complete:
- Cape Disappointment (Ilwaco, Wash.)
- Fort Vancouver (Vancouver, Wash.)
- Sandy River Delta (in the gorge at Troutdale, Ore.)
- Sacajawea State Park (Pasco, Wash.)
Two more are in the works:
- Chief Timothy Park (Clarkston, Wash.)
- Celilo Park (in the gorge near The Dalles, Ore.)
These are “teachable places,” transformed and reimagined to explore the confluence of history, culture and ecology in our region. Each work references a passage from the Lewis and Clark journals as a snapshot in time, while comparing it with the deeper story. Since our first night at McMenamins was in Troutdale, we walked out along the Sandy River to see the area and the Sandy River Birdwatch Blind.
The initial part of the walk goes through a floodplain zone currently being left to recover from clearing and farming. These areas were obviously attractive for settlement.

The soil was rich and the land essentially level. Unfortunately they were also subject to devastating floods and erosion due to extensive clearing. A number of these conservation areas have been established in the gorge; but they are also a subject of much contention. Some elements, such as the power line swath will remain.

The river itself seems modest and tame.

When Lewis and Clark passed this point they noted the extreme amounts of sand and gravel being deposited by the river (and therefore the name given) which we now know resulted from a late 17th century eruption of Mt. Hood.
Maya Lin’s Bird Blind pops up almost as a surprise.

It was undoubtedly more exposed during construction; but the new growth encouraged by the restoration process has surrounded it completely. It sits above the water for flood protection and also to go lightly on the land. These days, of course, with all the dams on the Columbia, flooding rarely causes major problems in this area.

The design of the bird blind runs counter to the perceived wisdom of the birder community. It’s open to the sky which illuminates the birders and has vertical slats instead of horizontal slots in more solid walls. These make it difficult to use binoculars or a scope and also telegraph any birder movements to the sharp-eyed birds.

In many ways, the pavilion focuses more on commemorating Lewis and Clark’s passage and the copious studies they made of flora and fauna, including the many species of birds – noted one per vertical on the slats of the enclosure.
On a contemporary note that would not have applied to Lewis and Clark there were signs posted that dogs were to be on leashes to protect wildlife. There weren’t a lot of people there the morning we walked in the park; but every one of them had a dog or two – and none of them were on leashes. The message of the park – “great place to let your dog run” – clearly overwhelmed the restoration signs.























