The Willamette from Harrisburg to Peoria is a favorite stretch to paddle — long, fast, gorgeous.  Lovely drive down through beautiful farmland.  Mountain views right and left.  Nice put-in and take-out.   And a family legend.

Yesterday,  we began by driving over the river and through the woods to the Fish and Wildlife office north of Corvallis to pick up a key to the newly-installed gate at the Green’s Bridge access for later use.  (I am now the official monitor for that run on the Santiam to Jefferson, certified by the Oregon Marine Board, about which more later.)  Left the Subaru at the Peoria take-out before driving the nine miles to Harrisburg.

Here, on the pebbly riverbank, Jim began unloading the boats.

We looked upstream

before heading out with the fast current for a 20-mile voyage.

Highlight of the day included the sighting of a bald eagle and accompaniment of birdsong all along the route.

Nowadays, all along the river are platforms for osprey nests.  Some with attached perches.

So good to see that these beautiful raptors have made a successful recovery after being nearly wiped out some years back by DDT.

The tricky part of this route is the takeout.  Actually, it’s an easy takeout if you don’t accidentally paddle right past its hidden location.  You have to watch carefully for this sentinel — a half-bare fir tree ahead.  Make a hard right into an invisible slough the moment you spot it.  Otherwise  .  .  .

And herein lies the family tale.  Totally true.  One day some years back, MM and I took this trip, leaving a car at the Peoria take-out, as required, before putting in at Harrisburg.  Zipped along for 20 miles.  Actually, we zipped along for about 8 more miles when we  spotted a housing development on the far left bank.  “Hmmmmm?”  MM pondered. “What do you thank that could be?,”  to which I responded, “Uhhh, that would be Corvallis.”  We were now  no where near our waiting Subarus.  So we took out at Willamette Park and, laughing our heads off, came up with an alternate plan.  Ever resourceful and always looking to make lemonade, we borrowed a phone from a soccer dad (This was before we carried cell phones in waterproof cases.) and called a taxi.  First stop was at a Wells Fargo ATM for some cash.  (MM had had the good sense to pack a debit card.)  Then we headed off for Peoria, gave the cabby a generous tip, got the other car at Harrisburg, bought some car snacks, and  came back to load up our abandoned boats just before Willamette Park was locked up at dark.    True story.

Harrisburg to Peoria is a favorite run.  And yesterday, Jim tied a big red ribbon to a branch on the right, a signal to others to make a hard right.