Deepening Connections with Place

Because one of my early dream jobs was to be a travel writer, writing about “place” to me usually meant writing about a travel experience. And while place certainly must be involved in travel writing, it is not the only genre of storytelling that involves that element. And it goes deeper than just the physical descriptions from your viewpoint, it involves writing about the context--the history, the culture, the feeling involved, and, most importantly the sense of meaning particular to that place.

While I generally knew that the idea of “place” goes beyond travel, the meaning around the concept has evolved exponentially throughout these recent pandemic years. During a time when most of us were essentially grounded, the places we exist in every single day took on new meaning. Be it our homes, our neighborhoods, our city or town. Being forced to slow down, I’ve come to bring my sense of wonder around a place closer to home which has been a lesson about how much I really know about a place I think I knew. For me, that is The Columbia River Gorge. 

The entrance to the Gorge is a mere 20 minutes from my home, yet every single time I drive through there, it takes my breath away. The jagged rock cliffs that plunge down into evergreen forests and the ubiquitous waterfalls rolling down said cliffs toward the Columbia River provide for a spectacular, awe-inspiring drive. Drive amongst those evergreen forests on the Historic Columbia Gorge Highway and you get a whole different perspective of the abundance of nature therein. Get out of the car and you’re hit with the whooshing of waterfalls, the smell of moss and dam leaves and mud. Hike to or stop your car at one of the many viewpoints, the vast expanse of the snaking waterway brings a sense of awe around the vastness of the geological forces that created such a spectacular waterway.

This focus on scenery is usually what the Gorge meant to me prior to the last couple years. Now, while the view of the landscape always makes me stop and go “Oh my god, I get to live HERE!”, I also think more deeply about the history of the area. Not just the geological history (which is super interesting), but its history of human activity. Indigenous people have been living on and traveling through the Columbia River Gorge for time immemorial. Salmon from the Columbia--called Nchi’-Wana or the “Great River” in Sahaptin--have always been and continue to be a crucial food source and link to spirituality for people whose lifeblood runs through the area. The people who lived and camped along the river came from a variety of cultures, speaking different languages.

Being awakened to the history of this place, I’ve developed a more nuanced perspective of the place, bringing up new questions each time I travel through. Each dam I pass, I wonder what those behemoth concrete structures cost the natural world and with it, the Native people in the region. I wonder what the place might’ve been like before those dams went up. Luckily, the stories of Native people of the region haven’t been completely forgotten or erased. There are many tribes, such as the Confederated Tribes of the Umatilla Indian Reservation who continue to fish at Cascade Locks just the way their ancestors did before them. But some of those ancestral fishing sites, like Celilo Falls, were flooded because of the dams and are currently places of mourning for Indigenous people.

I’m also more acutely aware of the narratives told in the roadside plaques along these routes--Indigenous stories are told, albeit alongside the stories of settler-colonialism (e.g., Lewis & Clark trail markers). For example, on a weekend trip to the Washington side of the Gorge, my friend and I happened upon an outdoor museum of sorts near Horsethief Butte showcasing petroglyphs that were originally on Columbia River rimrock that served as guideposts for Indigenous travelers in the region. The petroglyphs were moved before their original place was flooded after The Dalles Dam went up. The story of these petroglyphs shows two elements of the story of that place: the history of the Indigenous people and the destructive effects of settler colonialism. What would the river look like, what would the salmon run be, what would the state of the environment be if we hadn’t dammed up the place?

I’m increasingly inspired by organizations like The Confluence Project that seeks to connect “people to the history, living cultures, and ecology of the Columbia River system through Indigenous voices.” I particularly appreciated their field guide to the Sandy River Delta that many of us in Portland take for granted as a popular dog park area.

Seeing more about the deeper connection Indigenous people continue to have with a place that I love gives insight into both what was lost from the destruction of settler-capitalism and the hope to restore these places by honoring, respecting, and listening to Indigenous knowledge.

This is just one example of the deeper connection we can have with place and how it goes beyond just writing about it. It comes in through how we experience it every day and the stories that help us grow and learn through that process.