Yesterday, driving home from work, I had the opportunity to 
take an often-considered side route. There's a ferry 
crossing the Willamette river, whose signage has tempted 
me for several months. My usual commute winds through 
agricultural fields with almost zero traffic.This time of 
year it is especially beautiful. I lament the lack of 
pull-over opportunities for pictures - there are no 
shoulders on these roads.

Yesterday was a short work day, a sunny day, and I knew 
it was time to float my car over a river. 

The road to the ferry was new to me, too, and yielded 
another treat, a view of the many acres of hops just 
starting to grow up the thin strands of the frames that 
suspend them. Hops pickers will mount ladders when it's 
harvest time. legend has it they can sometimes fall asleep 
on the ladders, due to the soporific effect of the hops.

The hops fields seemed to go on for miles. I spotted one 
sign that marked those hops as destined for Full Sail beers, 
just one of numerous local breweries I am quite familiar 
with.

The approach to the ferry itself is of course a short slope 
downwards. Only two cars ahead of me, and only two dollars' 
cost for the crossing. This ferry is the fifth incarnation 
since 1850, each one named for the man who started the 
service.

Now, this river crossing is far from monumental. The span 
of water is only 580 feet! But the unique sensation of 
driving onto a steel deck and floating across a moving 
river was significant to me. Sure, it would have been 
much more exciting if men still poled it across, and the 
ferry was made of locally felled trees. I did not at all 
mind the diesel motor, and the overhead and underwater 
cables that guided the small craft (a maximum of nine cars 
at once). I'd guess the float across was accomplished in 
less than three minutes. I was to the right and a little 
behind the car next to me, and all I could see of the older 
woman seated on the passenger side was her right hand, with 
a firm grip on the handle built into the dash. She seemed 
to be challenging her comfort zone more than I was.

After the crossing I was quickly reunited with the rest of 
my usual commute. That modest diversion was important to 
me, as are all opportunities to try new and different 
things. I have had many fine experiences because I just 
had to follow one or two or five more turns on a forest 
trail, or drive a beautiful rural road just because it's 
there. It is one of the ways I maintain a wonderous regard 
for life in this world.