Oregon150

I arrived in Astoria, Oregon in July 1979, after having just arrived from New York City. I was a wide-eyed 27 year-old coming from a place where concrete reigned supreme and the sun never set, it simply disappeared.

Youngs River Falls, a majestic waterfall, was at back end of the property I lived on. I spent days sitting by God’s creation watching the water rushing over the rocks in total awe. It sure beat watching the New York City fire hydrants gushing water after having been hit by cars!

One night with my girlfriend and my friend Steve and his girlfriend, all former New Yorkers, we sat by the waterfall in awe of our good luck of having landed in Oregon at this place, at this time. In a flash, my friend jumped up, stripped off his clothes, jumped into the water and headed toward the waterfall. And after he jumped in he said to me, “Come on, and jump in too!”

I’m as competitive as the next guy so off with the clothes, and in I went. I would not be shown up with my girl watching! As I swam to the waterfall, I saw my friend get to the waterfall, reach up to grab at the rocks and quickly turn and begin to swim back to the place where our girlfriends sat laughing at these two kooks for boyfriends, swimming at night and in pretty cold mountain water. He swam past me not saying a word, but had a look of absolute panic in his eyes. I thought to myself as I passed him, “I will not only get to the waterfall, I will sit underneath it too. I’ll show him!”

I reached the waterfall and grasped for a rock to steady myself.

Or so I thought.

I had grabbed an eel! It slithered through my hand and back into the water. When I looked at the rocks behind the waterfall they were covered with eels. I understood Steve’s panic and I was now in a panic too!

I swam back with the sound of laughter cascading down on me.