Tag: Portland

July 7, 2018

Welcome to Skunktown

Jenny and I arrived in Portland yesterday evening and after a quick walk about, called it a night.

Our plan this morning, was to head to the Portland Saturday Market after stopping for donuts at Star Donuts. Portland is the home of Voodoo Donuts but seeing as we had already tried those in Austin, and were a bit underwhelmed, we settled on another Portland original.

We walked the six blocks there, through the quiet Alphabet Street neighborhood and were pleasantly surprised to see the store devoid of the lines of people we were expecting. The flavors were all standouts but we settled on Old fashioned Lemon poppy seed and a passion fruit with hints of cayenne for me as well as a Mexican chocolate and a red currant and honey for Jenny. The donuts were excellent-still not beating out the ones we had in Savannah but delicious and a bit different with more exotic flavors.

From there we grabbed an Uber to the Portland Market, a mishmash of stalls with everything from ethnic food from every corner of the planet, to clothing, jewelry, hand forged knives (yes Billy!), art, pottery, and plants. There was an excellent selection of items but the prices seemed a bit steep, and even though we made sure to hit every stall we found few items to leave with.

Portland is divided in half by the Willamette River, and the market and where we are staying are on the western side. The river appeared exceptionally clean, with a greenish tint and some boat traffic but nothing that one might expect. Jenny and I decided to walk along the riverfront to enjoy the beautiful weather we were having on our way to grab a charger from the Apple store.

We ended up stumbling upon a rental center where they had different pedal operated vehicles for rent and decided that they looked like fun, so we went ahead and rented one. The guy leasing them, never gave us the run down on where to go so we just hopped in and headed out.

We pedaled along the river, passing the market and continuing on to where a bridge crossed over to the eastern side. At first we weren’t too sure if we could go there but after seeing another buggy on the bridge we decided we could, so we went for it. We had lots of laughs driving the buggy along what turned out to be a loop route that the rental center should have told us about. At one point we almost ran off an exceptionally high curb, while trying to build enough speed to get us back up the ramp to the bridge to return us to the western side, but I literally slammed the hand lever brake on at the very last minute and left us teetering on the edge-I do not think it would have ended too well if we had actually run off that curb at “ramming speed,” so thank goodness that my reflexes are still quick!

After we returned our buggy, in one piece, thankfully, we began the long trek back to our apartment with various stops along the way.

After the Apple store, Jenny asked if we could head to Powell’s Books, a store that claims to be the largest independent book store in the world, housed in a four story building that takes up an entire city block.

We headed to the floor that carried books on anthropology, travel, history, and languages-we left with books ranging in topics from backpacking, how to learn Arabic, the Osage Indian murders and various travel memoirs. There are so many fascinating books out there. We could have both left with stacks of books-Jenny’s interests are so similar to mine, and every day they seem to align more.

After that, and a few more random stops, including one at the Shark Tank backed The Cookie Dough Café, we walked back to our apartment, passing endless numbers of hip restaurants and trendy stores. We loved the area of 13th Street, an old warehouse district that has been converted into a restaurant row type area with loads of outdoor seating and walls that roll up to make the indoors feel outdoors.

We dropped the books off, rested our feet for a bit before heading out to grab an early dinner. All told, we walked over seven miles today and biked another four. We enjoyed every minute of it but we really wished Billy was with us.

Our initial impression of Portland is that it is eclectic; a cool and hip city full of incredible restaurants and neat shops. It is as dog friendly a city as we have ever seen; they even have stores where you can purchase cannabis for your dog to help ease their suffering from anxiety, cancer, etc-isn’t that nice?

But there is also a homeless population here, the likes of which we have never seen. Clearly there is a huge drug problem as well-one far worse than the constant skunky smell wafting through the air might convey. The drug problem goes far beyond that it seems.

We saw more bizarre behavior in our seven miles then one might have experienced if they had walked the halls in, “One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest;” a man on his hands and knees, face down in the park, talking to the blades of grass, a young guy dancing with a tree and what appeared to be the love of his life in the form of his wheel-less skateboard, and another man sitting on a bench yelling at the top of his lungs at some unseen demon; and so it went. Most of the time people paid little attention to it, as though it is all so normal. Even the lady sitting a mere two feet away on her own bench from the man yelling was happily munching away at her lunch, seemingly ignorant to the ranting that was taking place aside her. The exception was the guy lying on the edge of the curb, in a position any yoga enthusiast would be envious of, feverishly backstroking his way to God knows where. The Louis Vuitton security guard eventually confronted him and got him to move before he got crushed by one of the oncoming metro trains, but that was the only time we saw any involvement towards the street people. All very sad and certainly quite different from anything we see back home. But I suppose there is nothing like a good dose of reality to help you appreciate where you live and affirm your gratefulness for a happy healthy life, I’m just sorry that it has to be at the sacrifice of others.

July 8, 2008

The Other Green Side of Portland

Yesterday, Jenny and I covered a lot of ground and saw a good portion of the Waterfront, Historic District, and Pearl District, so today we decided to check out some of the greener, quieter areas of Portland.

We started our morning with a hearty delicious breakfast at the Daily Cafe with avocado toast for Jenny and an asparagus and goats cheese frittata for me, and a couple of lattes-all very good and it had the added bonus of having a string trio entertaining us while we ate.

After breakfast, we caught a ride to the Portland Japanese Gardens. The gardens have been proclaimed, by numerous Japanese dignitaries, as the most authentic and beautiful gardens outside of Japan. Unlike traditional Japanese gardens, there are five distinct garden styles here, all having been designed by a Japanese professor from Tokyo Agricultural University. The gardens were lovely with meandering paths passing various water features, two zen gardens, a tea house, a bonsai display and the hugest koi fish we have ever seen!

We enjoyed the tranquility of our surroundings and joked about just letting go of it all and feeling the peace washing over us!

These were the first Asian inspired gardens we have ever been to, so we decided to add to the experience of it all and have an authentic Japanese tea service of Jugetsudo Teas, the most famous of the Japanese tea shops. The Japanese Gardens are the only place in the US that sells their teas so that added to the experience.

We sat outside on the elevated, modernistic deck and enjoyed our tea service-for Jenny Sencha tea and Castella Cake (a light honeyed Japanese sponge cake native to the Nagasaki region) and for me Hojicha tea and Manju (a sweet cake like confection made from bean paste).

From there we walked across to the International Test Rose Garden, the oldest official continuously operated public rose test garden in the United States. The garden was began in 1918 and today has over 10,000 plants-no wonder Portland is known as the City of Roses.

Jenny, was a bit nervous heading in there as she is afraid of bees, but they left her alone and she even managed to snap a few photos and to stop and smell the roses! Being in there reminded me of my mom as our house in Santa Monica had close to 100 rose bushes and they all smelled divine!

From there we caught an Uber to go to the Pittock Mansion, a French Renaissance style chateau located high in the hills above Portland.

The home was built in 1914 by Henry Pittock, who made his fortune as the publisher of The Oregonian. He and his wife Georgina lived there until their deaths in 1918 and 1919, respectively, and it wasn’t until 1958 that the last member of the family moved out. In 1965 it was in threat of demolition when a group of concerned citizens got together and helped the city purchase it and shortly thereafter open it to the public.

The inside was lovely with all its original architectural features still in tact and many family pieces that have been donated back.

The grounds were exquisite as with their mature trees and beautiful flower bed but the sweeping views overlooking all of Portland and as far away as Mount Hood and Mt. St. Helens were fantastic.

From there we returned to the 23rd shopping district for lunch and to browse the boutiques. Jenny scored a few items at a cute independent store but nothing else jumped out at her. We walked around a bit more, checking out more of the Nob Hill neighborhood and stocking up at a local market with snacks and items for the following few days.

We leave Portland tomorrow morning. On our way to the coast, we are stopping to do two college tours-one at Lewis and Clark and one at Willamette. We both like Portland, despite its population of street people. It has a relaxed vibe, with incredible people watching, delicious food, great stores, tons of coffee houses, and beautiful areas in the near vicinity. It’s also probably the most outspokenly tolerant place we have ever visited, which we appreciate!

July 9, 2018

I see it…I see it

The first order of business this morning was to pick up the car, so early this morning I walked to Enterprise. Because our first tour was scheduled at 9:30, we needed to get an early start to ensure we would find the meeting point, parking etc and not be late. After returning to the apartment to grab Jenny and load the car with our baggage, we headed to a place we passed along our walk yesterday that advertised smoothies. Root Cafe turned out to be an excellent stop as our fortified breakfasts were beyond healthy and delicious!

Lewis and Clark College is only 15 minutes out of Portland city center but still requires navigation of rush hour traffic and side streets. The campus is smack dab in the middle of a residential neighborhood, the original structures having been a department store magnate’s personal residence.

Arrival on the campus is quite lovely and one gets the feeling that the campus and the buildings have some history. The entire campus is encapsulated by the thick Oregon woods, with gravel paths leading from one building to the other, and bridges crossing the gorge that almost divides the campus in half between dorms and academic buildings.

The original estate gardens  and reflecting pond are still in tact and the school has even brought wifi down to these areas for the students to have so they can study there in the peaceful surroundings. There were lots of pluses on our tour, plus a few minuses, but the school has everything Jenny is looking for as far as academics go.

If it had been a clear day, Mt. Hood would be smack in the middle of the horizon.

Following our tour at Lewis and Clark, we headed straight to Salem to tour Willamette (we were told that the name is pronounced will-æ’-mitt-rhymes with dammit). Our tour guide was the total antithesis of the one from L&C, he was outgoing, funny, sarcastic and entertaining which made a huge difference in the way the school and atmosphere was perceived.

Where L&C is an absolutely gorgeous campus but isolated, Willamette is more urban, but still manages to have some tranquility via a stream running through the middle of campus.

Unlike L&C, Willamette does not have the minors Jenny is currently looking for- Arabic or Middle East Studies so with that and the less attractive campus I was surprised that Jenny seem to like Willamette more but that is the reason to do these tours!

After leaving Willamette, Jenny and I grabbed lunch in Salem, at Bo and Divine, a place recommended to us by the admissions office and it did not disappoint. Downtown Salem, is pretty much adjacent to the campus is an interesting city. It is pretty much a throw back to the 50s and 60s but still seems to manage a semi-cool vibe. We did not spend any time there to really do it justice so it certainly can not be compared fairly by us to Portland.

The Capitol Building, directly across from the campus.

After lunch, we made our way to our next destination following the highway past fields of hay, grapes, and cherries. The landscape was one which we had not seen before, with the pine trees leading right up to the rolling fields. It was really quite beautiful.

As we made our way to the coast, we traveled through once prosperous small towns and spectacular state forests; once we hit the ocean we began to traverse the coast line south. I had read up on the best stops to see marine mammals before we left, and when we pulled into Depoe Bay, I grabbed a spot at the first pull out I saw. Within minute, Jenny spotted a whale not more than a quarter mile off the shore. We quickly spotted another and sat and watched them for a while.

Continuing on down the coast, we came across a sign for Yaquina Head Lighthouse where we stopped for a look. The Lighthouse is the tallest one in Oregon, was built in 1872, and is still active for mariners today.

From the point, we could see, and smell, thousands of common murres hanging out on the rocks below. They are cool looking birds, reminiscent of penguins when they are hanging out on land. We also saw a gray whale right below the cliffs-so close to shore. It was amazing to see it so close to land.

We walked down to the tide pools, enjoying the giant green sea anemones that were still above the tide and the chubby harbor seals that were lazing on the rocks-laughing at how the seals reminded us of Lucky.

I love the beach, I always have. Today it brings me back to happy days as a child playing on the sands of Malibu. The crashing of the waves, the briny smell of the saltwater, the laughing of the seagulls, the endless horizon of wonderment-it’s all so cathartic. I am always at my calmest and most clearheaded when I am beside the sea, and today was no different. I could sit and stare out at the ocean and never get bored, just like my Uncle Artie, who when someone once asked him what it was that he looked at all day from the deck of his beachfront home, he replied, “If you don’t see it, I can’t explain it to you.”

I see it Uncle Artie…I see it.

Our final stop was our hotel-a cute revamped motor inn in the town of Yachats. Our room was far far nicer than the basement apartment we had in Portland. We quickly struck up a conversation with our neighbors to the room next to us as we sat out on the porch enjoying an evening glass of wine. As our conversations shifted from subject to subject, it wasn’t long before we ended up talking about college tours, which led to interests in possible majors, which led to discussions about the possibilities of future government employers, which led to discussions about his having lived abroad as a youngster with a father that worked for the State Department and his brother for the CIA, this in turn left to discussions that…er…we never had!

And to say that it was beyond interesting, this 2 1/2 hour discussion with a total stranger, who gave Jenny exceptionally sound and valuable advice, would be an understatement.

July 10, 2018

Apparently Jenny Sees It Too

I let Jenny sleep in this morning as we had had a few long days and I recognize her need for extended hours of rest. In the interest of time and money, I had told Jenny we would not be going out for breakfast once we left Portland so we stocked up on plain yogurt, honey, hemp granola and fresh strawberries to satisfy our morning needs for the next few days. Our room came with a keurig so we enjoyed a cup o joe and the perfectly delicious parfaits I made in the disposable plastic cups supplied to us and using spoons we had picked up with dinner last night-voilá-a healthy inexpensive breakfast was had!

After a Facetime session with Billy at the overlook in Yachats, and a quick stop at the post office to mail all the books we had purchased in Portland, we hit the road.

The drive south was spectacular; with numerous stops at pull outs and view points we saw so much of the wild and wondrous Oregon coast.

One of the stops brought us to an overlook where we were looking down on seals. The couple standing next to us, who were clearly traveling via road bikes, began to speak in a foreign language I quickly recognized as Dutch. We were amused by the seal trying so hard to make it on to the rock with his compatriots and I shared with them where we had seen the whales. As always, I appreciated a conversation with a fellow Dutchman!

We traveled through fir forests so thick the ground never sees a hint of light to wide open windswept dunes. At one point the dunes literally stop where the parking lot pavement of a Fred Meyer store begins.

After tanking up, Jenny and I followed the parking lot around to the back of the store and parked to go check the dunes out. Unbelievable how massive and steep they were-we couldn’t even see the ocean once we climbed to the top.

There were numerous families there having fun sand surfing so Jenny and I sat to watch. but when they kindly offered us a chance to try it out, we declined-way too many days and adventures left to do them in a cast-or worse. Jenny and I laughed how in the last few weeks, we had seen people surf in a river and now surf sand dunes-wild!

We continued in to Bandon where we stopped for lunch and then on to Gold Beach. The wind was really blowing by the time we got here and the tranquil ocean from the morning, had turned into the raging seas that every mariner fears.

We spotted some windsurfers and pulled over to watch them for a bit. These guys were flying but their acrobats were tame compared to the ones we have seen on Maui’s Ho’okipa Beach, entertaining though nonetheless.

We walked the beach a bit as Jenny was in search of some cool driftwood to take home but the wind was so brutal that it was sandblasting our bare legs so we couldn’t take it and decided to leave.

When we returned to our car some guy that was clearly living out of his, as a true windsurfing bum-emphasis on the last word, approached us. He struck up a conversation and told us next time we came this way we should bring some boards. When we told him we don’t have any, he offered to lend us his. When we told him we were from Connecticut, he seemed shocked that we were there at Gold Beach. He told us he was from Florida, but he hadn’t been home in four years-that was believable from the looks of his minivan. He told us his name was Leo and Jenny quickly introduced herself in return.

She never ceases to amaze me with her kindness and her generosity of spirit. Our conversation with our neighbor last night had us all speaking of the importance of tolerance and acceptance, and she is that way. After we left the beach she said it’s too bad we didn’t get his address so we could send him a holiday card. We joked we could mail one to:

Leo

Green minivan, Florida plates

Gold Beach Windsurfers Pullout

 

and more than likely, he would receive it!

We made another stop or two in search of driftwood and were pleased to have found a beach that was a bit more out of the wind and had a good selection of pieces. It’s so awesome that the entire Oregon coast is public land, having been done so by the so called “Beach Bill” of 1967.

The final stop on our drive was our home for the night. An Airbnb in Brookings, right on the CA border.

As it turns out, our Airbnb comes in at a three way tie with the hotels on Santorini and Bariloche, for the most amazing place we have ever stayed.

Our room, really a guest house, sat on the tip of a small peninsula, had huge windows with ocean views from three sides and an enormous infinity style deck with a 200 degree view of the rugged Oregon and California coastlines and the mighty Pacific.

There was a reef not too far off shore and the sound of the fog horn blowing every few seconds was both comforting and relaxing. There was no sand beach below, just a jagged coast with rock cliffs and large stacks which, with the waves rolling in, created the quintessential wave crashing sound…certainly no need for my app.

As I knew ahead of time that our spot was going to be a wonderful spot, though I had no idea it was going to be this good, I had told Jenny we should settle on a large late lunch and plan on charcuterie for dinner-an absolute perfect plan. We sat on the deck until sunset and then when it got too chilly we moved inside and continued to watch the ocean sitting in the hanging chairs, until it got dark.

Jenny asked if we could wake up tomorrow for sunrise to enjoy the breathtaking views for as long as possible-a sure sign that this place is a hit!

So remember yesterday’s blog when I said the ocean takes me to a place like no other, it does-even more so than the mountains. Well today was a full day of time spent on the sand culminating with hours of doing nothing but staring straight out at the ocean, sipping wine and stopping every now and then to write another sentence or two.

The little blue dot is us and that path is leading from the main house.

At one point, while standing outside on the deck with the Pacific literally under our feet, Jenny turned and looked at me and said, “I am so happy mom.” It appears the ocean brings her to the same state of contentment it brings me. What a wonderful way to end a great day!

July 11, 2018

Humbled

What a great night sleep we had. We woke up to check the sunrise but it wasn’t as spectacular as one might hope for, so we rolled back over and went back to bed, easily lulled back to sleep by the sounds of the waves below.

It turned out that not only was the place amazing but a delicious breakfast was included as well that we enjoyed on the deck overlooking the ocean.

Yesterday, Leo had told us that today was going to be even windier than yesterday and by the looks of the ocean, he was right. Jenny and I had pondered how he could have known that, seeing as there was no service out where he keeps his van and no stores to pick up a newspaper. I decided that he must lick his finger and hold it up to determine tomorrow’s wind (he is a windsurfer so he lives and dies for the wind) and Jenny then decided that if he wants to know the wind three days from now, he does the same, but with three fingers instead!

After breakfast, we decided to beachcomb for driftwood on the small but isolated cove that sat below our home. When we arrived on the cobbles, we found a doe that was hanging out happily chomping on kelp that had washed ashore.

Pretty wild considering how isolated the beach was and the access down was only through homes above that have gated yards. Apparently she had a fawn not too long ago, as the homeowners had seen it with her a few days previous.

By the time we got down there, the tide had already come in a bit so exploring the massive tide pools was not much of an option any more. We spotted some sea anemones and crabs but the only starfish we saw were the ones we could see much further out from our perch 80 feet above. We did manage to find some driftwood pieces, pretty hard not to when there were literally thousands of pieces to choose from!

Jenny decided it was her favorite place that we had ever stayed-all the natural light, ocean sounds, decorating, etc just all added up to perfection in her book and she did not want to leave so we took advantage of the noon check out and sat out on the deck so she could get some school reading done.

When the time rolled around that we had to go, we said our goodbyes to Karen, our host, and continued our southward trek on the Scenic Coastal Highway. At one point the road turned inland because there was no way around the incredible headlands that terminate at the ocean’s edge-so dramatic! We turned in at Crescent City, California to take a drive through the Jedidiah Smith Redwood State Park, before turning back north to return to Oregon. There is actually no way from the southern Oregon coast to inland Oregon without dropping into California as the mountains are almost impenetrable to paved highways.

Jedidiah Smith Redwoods State Park, named for Jedidiah Smith, the first American to travel from Mississippi to interior northern California in 1826, is home to some of the largest and oldest redwoods on the planet, most are between 500-700 years old. The park protects 10,000 acres of primeval redwoods that were once an intricate part of the lives of the native Tolowa people. 96% of the original old growth redwoods are gone however and unfortunately just about 45% of the remaining old growth redwoods are protected by the national and state parks.

The drive through the park was beyond impressive and beautiful in a strange sort of way. The road through the park is dirt and because it has been a while since there has been a steady rain, the ground cover and understory were coated in a grayish dust-creating an almost haunting scene-reminding us of images that emerged following 9-11.

I had decided ahead of time to take a small hike through the park, so we could get off the road and truly experience the magnificence of these behemoths. We parked at the Stout Grove, named in honor of lumber baron Frank Stout, whose widow donated this 44 acre grove to the Save the Redwoods League in 1929 to preserve it and save it from being logged. There was a small half mile trail through these pristine woods (minus the names carved into the fallen trees that some a**holes thought was a good idea).

The trail included the Stout Tree, the 8th largest in the Jedidiah Smith Park-it is a whopping 320 feet tall with a width of almost 17 feet.

If you ever want to feel like a speck on this planet, take a walk amongst these stately trees. It certainly puts our place here in perspective when you stop and look around and recognize the history that has taken place while they have been alive. To walk in silence amongst these giants is humbling, taking one back to a different time. It is hard to imagine, back in the day, that lumberjacks did not feel deep seated regret with every pull and push of the saw blade-one would have to be either consumed with nothing but greed or cold hearted not to be affected by the felling of one of these titans.

Once we left the park, we headed north back to Oregon, following the crystal clear waters of the The Smith River. The Smith River is also named in Jedidiah’s honor, and is the longest major free-flowing river in California-it also holds the California state record for steelhead at an impressive 27 pounds.

Our drive was mostly through incredible evergreen forests save for a few spots that were more reminiscent of the landscape in Zion. We had quite a few laughs along the way-like the three large signs advertising “Sweet Cron for Sale,” or the possessionless hitchhikers that we passed-the first a woman with no shoes, the second a man with no shirt, the third a woman walking north who only stuck her thumb out to the southbound traffic (I think she was confused!). Then there was the relatively new sign that advertised the Smoking Duck Bar and Grill and sitting right next to it was the burned out shell of the bar that once was-Jenny remarked that she can only imagine the jokes that were being told around town about that incident.

Oregon is full of “characters,” shall we say, but none that have given us great concern. There is a real culture here, if you will. At one point, we stopped at a road side stand that was advertising cherries. Within a matter of three minutes, we saw a mother of two with fuchsia dreadlocks down to her butt and shorts so short we weren’t even sure they were shorts, a pot-bellied, bearded man in tie-dyed that looked like he had just walked off the fields of Woodstock, and a guy sitting under a lone pine tree, behind the stand in a newly cleared dirt lot, while a bulldozer worked around him. All rather bizarre yet whether for good or bad conversation inducing sights.

Our accommodations this evening fit the area and the Oregon vibe to a tee. It is not as elegant or as dramatic as last night’s but it is hip and artsy and very comfortable.

Our hosts have been just as welcoming and there is an added bonus here of three dogs, one of them being an 8 month old French bulldog named Lola-she quickly stole the thunder of yesterday!

July 12, 2018

Digging to China

We were able to have a lazy morning today as our scheduled rafting trip did not start until 11:30, so I let Jenny sleep in until she woke up and I caught up on some emails.

We started our morning with a yogurt bowl like the other morning except this time in addition to the strawberries, I included the Rainier cherries we picked up yesterday-they were so delicious that Jenny even commented later in the day how good breakfast was. Our cute bungalow comes with the fixings for coffee so we were able to enjoy our breakfast and a cup of coffee out on the attached patio before it got too hot.

We arrived at the rafting office where we met our guides and got fitted for our life vests that are worn uncomfortably tight in order to allow the guides to grab you by the shoulder straps and lug you back into the boat should you choose to jump out or if you accidentally fall in. From there, we headed to Morrison’s Lodge where they told us to come hungry to enjoy a gourmet lunch before we headed out on the river-burger and dogs, not quite so gourmand but it was included in the price and it was the only option. Following lunch, we received a brief safety talk about things like what position to take if you fall out of the boat and what to do if the boat flips over and you get trapped underneath-put your hands up and walk yourself out.

Our route today would take us down the Rogue River. The Rogue River flows freely 215 miles from Crater Lake to the Pacific Ocean at Gold Beach, we had actually crossed the mouth of it on our drive south a few days back. The Rogue National Wild and Scenic River was one of the original eight rivers designated Wild and Scenic in 1968 and today we would be floating nine miles of it in the Rogue Recreation Area.

We were assigned to a 16 foot raft with just one other couple in their early 60s, Glen and Ruth from Bakersfield, CA with Nate, a native of Arizona, as the oarsman. Our half day, raft was going to be mostly through class II rapids with one class III. Jenny has never rafted before and she wanted to make sure we didn’t take on anything to crazy for her first time, so this was going to be perfect. When I was going into 7th grade, I rafted on the Snake River in Wyoming where we rode out class IV rapids, including the iconic “Lunch Counter,” but that was obviously quite some time ago.

The initial float was very tame, similar to the riffles we float when doing our fly fishing trip so it was more scenic than technical. The scenery was quite beautiful, with the steep pine covered mountains coming straight down to the water’s edge in most places. The Rogue had an almost emerald tint to it, but it was clear to the bottom. In the spring and fall, the Rogue is a premiere fly fishing destination but in the height of the summer, not so much, it becomes a rafting destination.

Ruth Ann and Glen were exceptionally friendly people and at one point Ruth Ann asked Jenny and I what our relationship was. Jenny and I were both surprised by that question but not as surprised as she was when we told her we were mother and daughter. Glen said we either had to be mother and daughter or twins (thank you Glen!) to which Ruth Ann remarked she thought we were having too much fun together to be mother and daughter-a very welcoming and appreciated comment.

We all, including Nate, talked about travel-places we have been, places we are going and places we would like to go; Nate especially has the travel bug as well and we commiserated about how addicting it is to experience new and different places and spend time where life has been going on for centuries.

Not too long into the trip the temperatures continued their steady rise and we all began to get rather hot. Inevitably, I took my oar and smacking the water at just the right angle, I doused Jenny. She returned the favor and then Nate quickly got in on the fun and with his larger oars and his experience, he quickly cooled us off from head to toe! Of course when other rafts neared, a game of who could wet who better broke out.

It wasn’t long though until we reached very calm waters where we could jump in and just float down the river, eyes up to the sky, relaxing in the refreshing waters of this wild river. Of course getting back into the raft is a bit of a challenge but Nate was able to grab us by our vests and haul us in, pulling up and then yanking backwards, until we basically landed in the boat on top of him; AKA the “flop and giggle”-a bit awkward, especially when your hands end up someplace you absolutely don’t want them to be…but it worked.

The temperatures continued to soar while we were on the river and a swim in the river necessitated itself multiple times. I eventually suggested Jenny and I swim on to the rock shelf that lines the bank of the river and we could climb into the boat from there, far easier for all those involved and no embarrassing mishaps!

The final rapid of the day came at the end of our trip, it was a class III rapid (though with the lower water levels it might have been more like a class II+) known as Argo. Nate had given us instructions before we entered the rapid on what we wanted to do and what we wanted to watch out for-most importantly the large boulder that sits smack dab in the middle of the end of the run that is known to flip boats if you hit it. He said we wanted to avoid getting hung up on it and to remember the safety tips they had given us at the beginning of our trip.

We entered the rapid and Nate immediately began calling out “Forward!” then as the waves got bigger and the bow, with Jenny and Glen in front, dropped lower, the boulder quickly began approaching. “Dig Deeper!” Nate hollered above the thunderous sounds of the rapid. Jenny and I dug like we were trying to make it to China, but Ruth Ann had stopped paddling and Glen was almost just skimming the surface. Jenny’s and my side of the boat hit the boulder, and all I kept thinking was what they said to do if the boat flips-which was sounding a little easier said than done, right about now. A few seconds later we were floating free and still upright with all of us still in the raft. Quite the excitement!

By the time we got back to town the temperature gauge was reading 111. Recognizing the fact we had had a lot of exposure, and were going to fade quickly tonight, I suggested we stop and pick up some Thai food and just relax in our bungalow. That turned out be a perfect plan, because it was as I had suspected, plus we got to see that too-cute-for-words Lola again!

July 13, 2018

Blue As Our Stripes

We woke this morning to some cooler temps and a bit of cloud cover-a nice change from the previous two days. We had breakfast on the patio, loved on Lola and then had a wonderful discussion with our host about traveling. Her parents had done missionary work for many years and have traveled all over the world plus her mother and grandmother owned a travel agency for many many years and thus have contacts everywhere. Their style of travel is much like ours-try to get off the beaten path as much as possible, try to immerse yourself in the culture and truly experience what life is like living there, hold no judgement on the things you see, try to make a positive impact and most of all always respect the beliefs and values of the people who you encounter. We talked about those travelers who strictly travel to just check off the proverbial bucket list or to have bragging rights on where they have been-not our or their style and we bonded over that. Even our sojourns in the Airbnbs have allowed us to immerse ourselves a bit more in the local life and for that I am pleased.

Today we were driving through the Cascade Range on our way to Bend, Oregon, stopping at Crater Lake, the only National Park in Oregon, which by the way, was founded on May 22, 1902 (a good day I think). Crater Lake is the deepest lake in the US at 1,943 feet, and the second deepest in all of North America. It is fed only by rain and snow; there are no inlets or outlets. I should have made it clearer yesterday when I said the Rogue River begins at Crater Lake. It begins in the national park, not the lake itself. Its headwaters are 8 1/2 miles below the rim, shooting out of the side of Mount Mazama, but it does not drain from the lake.

As we left Grants Pass, we followed the Rogue River for twenty or so miles until we turned off and began our journey through productive vineyards and farmlands, on to forests filled with the Pacific Madrone trees-evergreens that have a cinnamon colored trunk and a greenish-grey waxy coating that peels away on the outside (similar to a eucalyptus) with bright green leaves-a completely unique looking tree. These gave way to mixed conifer forests of Ponderosa Pine, Lodgepole Pine, Western hemlock, etc. The variety of landscapes we passed through in one hour was remarkable.

As soon as we entered through the park gates, there was an older gentleman with a large pack standing at the junction of the campground and the main road to the Visitor Center, hitchhiking. Jenny asked me if we could see where we was going and offer him a lift. Only because it was inside the park and there is only one road in the park and there was a lot of traffic I acquiesced, and so we pulled up and rolled down the window. In a thick European sounding accent, he explained he was trying to get to the visitor center but the 1:00 shuttle had not shown up and had apparently got cancelled. We told him to hop in, we were headed that way.

Michael is from Germany and is 4 1/2 months into a 6 month hike of the full Pacific Crest Trail-from Mexico to Canada. He said that his nickname on the trail, apparently everyone has to have a nickname so there is no confusion as to who exactly the “Cresters” are talking about when they meet up etc., is “Camp Finder,” as he is always scouting for the best campsite, with the best views. He has been the water blogger for the PCT website since he started-basically updating the water sources as he goes along-an immensely important contribution. He knows that in a few days they will need a ride off the Trail for 26 miles because there is no water source now. We laughed after we told him we would be in Bend this evening; he will there in ten days!

Picking up hitchhikers is not something I would ever do, except in Patagonia with all the college kids trying to get to El Chalten, but for various reasons, I was OK with it. Jenny and I have often lamented the fact that we wish we could just have total faith in humanity. Sometimes Jenny gets angry that the world isn’t a kinder, gentler place. Other times it makes her sad we haven’t all figured out how to stand around, holding hands and sing Kumbaya together. To her it is all an unnecessary roadblock to experiencing everything this remarkable planet has to share. It would be so nice to trust in all, and not have to worry but alas, we are realistic and this was a rarity. We feel like there are so many stories to be heard and fascinating things learned from a stranger-just like with the our neighbor in Yachats. Next time, we said, we will rent a pick up truck and then we can be a bit more comfortable about collecting those who are wandering but not lost!

As we pulled into the parking lot of the visitor center, it was absolutely mobbed-where in the world did all of these cars from? We had barely passed a car on the route we came by. Parking was difficult and I told Michael I would stop and let him out, that he did not have to drive around the lots with us looking for parking, but he insisted he would tough it out with us since we had so kindly given him a ride. After finally parking, we said our good-byes, wished Michael well on the rest of his trip, grabbed our sandwiches and walked to the rim where we both let out audible gasps of “Oh wow!”

The lake is as intense blue as any water I have ever seen, it looks like the blue found in our American flag. The clarity and blueness comes from the depths of the water and the blue light rays being reflected instead of absorbed, as well as the fact there is no stream depositing minerals or sediment into the water. The lake itself sits an average of 1500 feet below the rim of the caldera so one has a bird’s eye perspective across the 6 miles to the other shore. Wizard Island, a 700 foot tall dormant volcano that formed after the initial eruption, is found off to one side. The entire pristine scene is almost surreal-a real treat for the eyes and when one sits and ponders the geological history of it, it only adds to its wonderment.

Wizard Island

Crater Lake was formed 7,700 years ago when the explosive eruption of Mount Mazama triggered the cone to collapse into itself, losing some 4,000 feet of its original height! The eruption was so violent that ash from it has been found 1,000 miles away in Alberta. It is estimated to have released 50 cubic kilometers of magma, compared to Mount St Helens’ 1980 eruption that released a mere 1/2 cubic kilometer-pretty unreal.

There is only one way path down to the water via a trail that descends 600 feet from the lowest part of the rim. It is understandable why it wasn’t until 1865 when a non-native was finally able to reach the shore-a full 12 years after Americans had first laid eyes on it. The native Makalaks used the area as a temporary camping site and witnessed the eruption as evidenced by archaeological evidence found buried in the ash and pumice and through accounts of the eruption passed down through oral history stories by their descendants, the Klamaths. What a terrifying sight that must have been, thinking the world was coming to an end.

After enjoying our sandwiches with a million dollar view, and cooler temps in the elevation, we walked around the rim for a bit and then decided to head out following the West Rim Road all the while continuing to stop along the way at the various viewpoints.

We sat right in the U!

The hills in the distance reminded us the Great Smokeys as they had the bluish tint to them. On a clear day, one can see Mount Shasta in California but today there was a thin cloud layer that prevented us from seeing it.

Over the next two hours of our drive, we continued to see beater cars heading the other direction that were “decorated up.” We realized it was not a fluke that there were a lot of late model cars with slogans or writing on them, and other decorations attached (ie a full skeleton riding on the back bumper, an iguana spine attached to the roof of the car). Jenny Googled it and found out it was the Gambler 500 Road Rally- a two day, mostly off-road rally with participants who are supposed to spend $500 or less on their car, travel 500 miles and pass through 25 GPS waypoints along the way, and there is huge midway party and a party at the finish line-sounds like fun!

I spotted this one in a parking lot, notice the jet packs on the roof.

We pulled into Bend, checked into the Springhill Suites (I couldn’t find an Airbnb in Bend) and proceeded to figure out dinner. Jenny, as usual, took charge and found us a great place that was Asian/Latin American fusion. We decided to take an Uber there and then we would walk back the 1.2 miles.

The Uber driver mentioned that some streets were blocked due to the music and food festival going on-maybe that’s why rooms here were over $300 a night! (Thank goodness for points!) After dinner Jenny and I walked back through the festival.

Bend is a really cool town with a great vibe! It practically sits at the base of the Cascades with the Deschutes River running right through the middle of town, and a lovely park lining the bank on one side.

The downtown area has tons of incredible restaurants, and coffee shops, with cool funky stores all housed in either historic buildings or new buildings that used a mountain town architecture. There are loads of breweries and bars with bands playing and corn hole set up. The town is clean and interestingly enough, it does not seem to have the population of homelessness that every other town we have been in Oregon seems to have.

The neighborhoods surrounding downtown are mostly revamped arts and crafts style homes with fun outdoor areas that look like they just came off one of the home renovation shows on HGTV. Definitely a ton (90,000 pop), I could hang out in for some time!

Some Scenes around Bend

Our hotel break fell in a perfect spot along our trip-I was able to do a load of laundry, and Jenny got to use the gym and the pool. All good, but if there is a town we have stayed in that would have been fun living like one of the locals for a few days-it would have been this one!

July 14, 2018

One With the Mountains

Since Bend is such a foodie town, I had told Jenny she could find a place for breakfast this morning instead of taking the free one that came with the room. She chose a Hawaii themed restaurant that offered acaí bowls-one of our favorite breakfasts that it not only delicious but healthy to boot. We both ordered a different bowl and a different latte and split a piece of banana bread. We agreed that they were all delicious but the super moist banana bread really stole the show. I told Jenny it had reminded me of the banana bread Billy and I had gotten when we drove the road around the west Maui mountains, a road few non-islanders ever drive, and we stopped at a a rather primitive looking house and bought two loaves of still warm banana bread-the best I have ever had!

After breakfast we made a stop at the wave on the Deschutes, a man-made surfing area that is similar to the one in Missoula but only bigger and with more rapids. We enjoyed watching the guys surf the waves, this time actually cutting in and out a bit.

From there we hit the highway. The skies today were mostly clear and as we got out of Bend, we had a better perspective on just how stunning its placement is-Mt Hood on one side and a host of other snow-covered Cascade peaks on the other. As we were driving down the highway, we kept pace with a fully mature bald eagle that wasn’t too far of my driver’s side window. Once we broke free from Bend’s sprawling urbanization, the landscape quickly changed. Jenny and I commented that this area was a true testament to the power of water-there were literally verdant agricultural fields abutting bone dry, sage brush plains. The juxtaposition of the two was remarkable.

I had read about a small museum located on the Warm Springs Indian Reservation that received great reviews so I decided to make a stop there. The exhibits began with an 8 minute documentary that gave a brief history on the culture of the local tribes that inhabited these lands long before settlers arrived. The natives here were hunters and gathers subsisting off berries, roots, hunting (deer, elk and pronghorn mostly) and salmon fishing. After the Treaty of 1855, they were moved to their present day reservation where most of their traditional values, beliefs, and language were systematically stripped from them in order to convert them to what the white man believed was a more dignified way of life.

Today, thankfully, there is a push to return to the ancestor’s way of life including passing down their language, but with the quickly vanishing generation who are proficient, they are running a race against time, one that is never easily won.

The museum was small but very well done and I was very happy we took the time to stop. Having concentrated in American Indian Studies, I always enjoy time spent among the artifacts and historical photographs but I always get an ill feeling in my gut of just how maligned these people were and how unfortunate so many of their circumstances still are. There was and still is so much to be gained from their knowledge and understanding of the natural world.

After we left the museum Jenny and I discussed the irony of where our country is today environmentally with the natives beliefs in keeping the natural world in balance; there is a lot that can be learned from the wisdom of elders that has been handed down through the generations; if only we could come down from our misguided high horse of intellectual superiority and sit and listen…

As we drove on toward Hood River the landscape changed from arid sagebrush to evergreen shrubs, followed by a thicker and denser concentration of trees until we were in a full fledged conifer forest. As we were driving along, listening to music, chowing down on blueberries, seaweed and grapes (isn’t that what every American family snacks on during road trips?), I looked over into the woods and saw an animal that caught my eye. “What is that?” I said aloud while quickly slowing. Another quick look and, “Oh my God, that’s a wolf.” As I approached a bend in the road with no shoulder to pull off on, I had to keep going until I could find a safe place to pull over but there wasn’t one for at least another mile and by the time I did, the wolf was gone. In hindsight, I wish I had jammed the breaks on and sent us in the ditch if need be (well not really but you get it). So cool, but so bummed I wasn’t able to stop and Jenny wasn’t able to see it.

(No picture-boo hoo!)

By the time we reached Timberline Lodge, it was nearly 2:00 so we decided to have our lunch sitting on the back bumper of the car, staring directly up at Mt. Hood-not too shabby a view! Mt Hood is the tallest peak in Oregon at 11,249 feet. The last time Mt Hood erupted was in 1781, about a decade before Lewis and Clark laid eyes on it. While it stands quiet now, the potential for another eruption is calculated at “very high.” Mt Hood is covered by 12 named glaciers or snowfields which in total cover about 80% of its cone. Considering fire and ice don’t mix too well, I hate to think of what the outcome would be after an eruption.

Walking around outside of the Timberline Lodge, an architectural beauty and featured as the hotel in The Shining, we followed a path that was cut into the hillside, zigzagging up through alpine flowers and the occasional evergreen.

We sat and watched all the skiers and snowboarders-yes they ski year round on Mt. Hood, carefully coming down a chute that was strewn with boulders and lined with dirt. Skiing this season is only for the very experienced we decided. It was 83 degrees out and we only saw a few in shorts and Hawaiin shirts, the majority were dressed in full ski outfits.

Taking shelter in the shade of a giant spruce tree, Mt Hood looming over us, Jenny said how much she loves the mountains. The mountains to Jenny are like the ocean to me. She feels happiest when she is walking amongst them, sitting and watching them, soaking in the majesty of them, feeling one with them.

We enjoyed our time spent on the mountain, we even hiked a bit of the Pacific Crest Trail and wondered how many days it would be until Camp Finder made his way here!

Difficult to leave, and pull yourself away from the majesty of it all, we hit the road in search of a beautiful 60 foot waterfall we had read about that was a short hike off the highway and a little known viewpoint of Mt Hood. Unfortunately, we never found the turn off for the waterfall but we did find the viewpoint.

I found this one instead right on the side of the highway.

Our hosts had recommended a brewery that was about 3/4 mile away for dinner so we headed down there-and when I say down I mean down! The residential areas of Hood River as well as a good portion of the downtown are built on the hillsides, it sort of reminded me of San Francisco in a way.

After dinner, Jenny suggested we walk down to the Columbia River and watch all the kitesurfers-Hood River is the kitesurfing capital of the US but by the time we got there, they were mostly done for the day. We plopped down on some grass and relaxed enjoying the beautiful area and soaking it all in, resting up and mentally

preparing ourselves for the return home!

Scenes from Hood River

July 15, 2018

The Power of the Ice Age

Last night we crashed and burned; this morning we slept in until almost 9:00! Our day was slow to get started as I was finishing my blog and Jenny was working on homework-can I tell you how unbelievably irritated I am that she has homework over the summer, and I don’t just mean read a book (she has that too). She has spent hours and hours working on AP US History homework and hasn’t even gotten to her AP French homework yet-argh!

When we finally headed out, close to 12:00, our destination was Multnomah Falls where I had made a reservation in the historic lodge for us to have lunch. Last September, a horrible fire started by illegal fireworks swept through the Columbia River Gorge, and because of that, a large part of the old historic highway, as well as many state parks and waterfalls, remain closed. We were told there was a parking lot for the falls located in the median of the interstate and we could park there as we could not access the lot at the lodge itself. As we pulled up to the lot, the entrance was blocked so on we traveled to the next exit, 7 miles down the road where we got off and made a U turn back, as the parking lot entrance coming from the other side had appeared open. There were plenty of spots when we returned so I am not too sure why the highway department had the other entrance shut down but it was certainly frustrating!

As the highest waterfall in Oregon and the second highest, year-round waterfall in the US, Multnomah Falls plummets a total of 620 feet-542 feet to the first level and then an additional 69 feet to the second level. The falls are fed by underground springs that arise on Larch Mountain.

We walked up to the first overlook, took a few pictures and returned for lunch at the Lodge. When making the reservation it was never mentioned that it was a brunch buffet (something I hate but Jenny likes) so I suffered through it. The food was only ok but it fulfilled our needs.

After lunch we continued up to the second overlook, the Benson Bridge. The falls were once privately owned by lumber baron Simon Benson but he donated the land and the bridge, which was named in his honor. The views were spectacular if you could deal with the crowds of people vying for a good spot. The one good thing was because the bridge was in the sun, and looking at the falls had you facing the sun, many people stayed over to the side in the shade for the cooler temps and better photographs. We loitered on the bridge for a while, listening to the sound of the water cascading over the cliffs and down the basalt rocks. For its immense height, it was a delicate waterfall-transparent and dainty as it caressed the rock wall falling to the pool below. If only it were more remote than a 1/4 mile walk from the parking lot it might be a little less crowded.

From there we got back on the highway, traversing the part we had traversed earlier and headed to the famous Crown Point overlook, 733 feet above the Columbia River Gorge. The Vista House was built in 1918 as a memorial to the trials and hardships of those who had come into the Oregon Territory.

The CRG has an interesting history having been formed more by the Missoula Floods than the river itself. The Missoula Floods were a series of serious glacial events that took place during the Ice Age where glaciers dammed the Clark River in the area of present day Missoula creating enormous lakes that later gave way. This process repeated itself numerous times with the immense flooding gouging out the present day Columbia River Gorge. Truly fascinating!

The overlook, some 733 feet above the river were breathtaking-words nor pictures can’t really do the views justice. Today the river is, at its widest, one mile across and the gorge, at its widest, is 3 miles across rim to rim. The river drains more waters to the Pacific Ocean than any other river in either North or South America-a true natural marvel!

We returned to the highway, traversing yet again, the same stretch of highway that we had traversed already twice before and made our way back to Hood River. Jenny still had homework to finish up that is due tomorrow and she was desperate to get it finished so she could enjoy the rest of her trip.

We decided we would dine down by the water so we could see some of the kiteboarders however, we decided we would not walk today as the mercury was topping 104 when we got back to our apartment. There is no Uber or Lyft in Hood River so I drove down. There were fewer kiteboarders than yesterday but we managed to catch a few.

Hood River is an exceptionally child and dog friendly town. There are kids playgrounds everywhere and restaurants have designated kids play areas. Dogs too are welcome at all outside dining areas-we passed one restaurants that had twelve tables lined up outside and 8 of those tables had dogs. There are bowls of water and “Dog Parking” signs aplenty. It is so nice to be in an area that is tolerant across the board.

Except for the heat, our time spent in Oregon has been wonderful. We have enjoyed the people, food, scenery, tolerance and truly friendly atmosphere. Every place we went or stopped in, people asked us where we were from, where we were going or how we were doing. It all felt very sincere.

Additional Shots:

Tomorrow we move on to Washington. We don’t know if the other side of the Columbia will be any different but we are looking forward to finding out, and we are hoping for some cooler temps.

From our Airbnb