Discovering the Ark Saucer of Sauvie Island

Above: The Columbia River, as seen from Broughton Beach close to Portland International Airport throughout a usually drizzly winter morning.


t was simply meant to be a daily stroll alongside the Columbia River seashores of Oregon’s Sauvie Island on a cool, grey winter morning. Who knew that we might come across a multicolored, saucer-shaped ark, and that it could lead us towards the life of genius inventor Richard Ensign.

In the winter months, Sauvie Island, the huge river island which lies simply northwest of Portland and Vancouver, is barren and lonely, and its agricultural fields are all flood and dirt. I discover one thing vibrant blue set again behind the seashore.

Portland’s housing disaster has meant a swell of hidden encampments in locations the place most individuals by no means care to look; and after stunning sufficient cautious homesteaders, I’ve turn out to be extra cautious. Just the sight of the coloration blue—tarp shelter.

Signs on this remoted seashore remind us: Collins Beach is clothing-optional. It’s simply hotter than freezing, the sky is damp. We are the solely ones right here, I believe.

Still, I’m cautious about that construction up forward. Through the binoculars, I modify my opinion. “It’s not a shelter. It’s a vehicle?”

Kellan, my eleven 12 months outdated son, now sees that as properly, and he runs forward, holding his video digital camera as he approaches.

My spouse and I observe, strolling alongside installations of handmade mobiles and windchimes, hung alongside the Columbia River in previous seasons from solar weathered driftwood branches.

When we arrive at the edge of the seashore and woods, there it’s, this monstrous car, graffitied in sensible paint. Kellan pronounces: it’s some type of boat. He thinks it’s not made of fiberglass. Or wooden. Some form of stone. Maybe concrete, papa?

But as we gawk over the intricate graffiti, Kellan is dwell on the mic. “It is shaped like a flying saucer!” He is attempting to get inside the round-portholed trimaran.

I climb up a fastidiously positioned log to the ship’s deck, and searching inside, I see Kellan’s shadowy determine, talking to his Youtube viewers. Why it’s right here, I have no idea. What it’s doing on this seashore, I do not know.

When his video session ends, I enter. “What do you think this is?” he asks. “Why don’t we try to find out more about it?” I reply. Somehow, I don’t have to say it. He’s been bitten by a bug to doc our discover, a narrative that’s simply his personal.

Source hyperlink Out Riding

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