Vancouver, B.C. – city of glass, mountain highways, and harbors

After our morning rituals in our now-favorite camp spot, we eased back into civilization with a stop for lunch items at Chelan’s local Safeway.   We took advantage of the cell service, and I got to call my parents on their anniversary!

I jumped behind the wheel for the next several hours and took us through the irrigated Columbia River Valley (looks a lot like home!), quaint little foothill towns (Toby said they were so cute he wanted to puke – I thought they were fantastic!), and finally back into the North Cascades!   One of the great  ironies of our journey: to get to Canada from our northern most point on our recent backpack trip we had to
1) hike 15 miles south,
2) sail 35 miles south
3) drive 20 miles south
4) drive 30 miles east
5) drive 70 miles north, and then
6) head west back into the Cascades.
Full circle, basically.   I have been the grateful recipient of many incredible mountain vistas, but the North Cascades take the cake.   I think it’s as close to New Zealand (think Lord of the Rings) as one can get in North America.   Soaring, jagged peak after soaring, jagged peak for miles and miles and miles.   If you ever get a chance to drive Washington’s Highway 20, don’t pass it up!

Of course there was intermittent pounding rain (it wouldn’t be Washington or spring  without it!), but we took advantage of a dry spell to throw down the tailgate and make lunch.

At our last U.S. gas stop, I succumbed to the attached McDonalds  and sucked down and ice cream cone.   Yay!   Then we were off for the border.   As my luck would have it, we were of course asked to pull to the holding area and step inside while our vehicle was searched and we were questioned.   Toby, Nathan, and Chhimi  managed to cross the border in the same strange vehicle combo, late at night, with a mish-mash of passports including one Bhutanese with no problems.   But throw “always-gets-stopped-at-customs-every-single-freaking-time” woman in the mix, and there is gonna be trouble! (sorry!!!!).   Of course there was nothing for them to “find,” so we were off and made it to Nathan’s dad’s house mid-evening!   Laundry and dinner were in order.   We made 11p.m. plans with Nathan’s sister and cousin in from out of town.   I took a nap so I could rally, but they ended up cancelling the plans and I didn’t wake up again until the early morning!

Given our time spent at high elevation, my morning Vancouver runs were especially glorious.   Not only is the city covered in beautiful vegetation, but my hemoglobin levels were sky high.   I felt like I could run forever! (Except, of course, the inevitable end of each journey – Nathan’s dad lives at the top of a very steep hill.   We’ll be walking this one.   Always.)

Our first full day in Vancouver (“North Van” actually) was spent  dealing with life logistics (laundry, email, budgeting, journaling, etc.).   Then we took various forms of public transport (Sea Ferry across the harbor and Sky Train to one end of the city) to the  “Bike Free Day” celebration.   The highlight, for me, was being on the Sky Train right after the Brazil/Ghana (I think) game let out.   A million Brazilians and Brazil fans flooded the streets.   We got on a sky train car with a bunch of them who were shouting and chanting and singing homage to their team.   It was great!   Highlights of the “Bike Free Day,” since I’m not much of a vendor visitor, were all people watching: dancers in costume, people on roller skates, people dancing on a couch, a tall, shirtless, hot-bodied, mini-dreads-to-his-chin African man picking up a middle-aged white woman and dancing with her wrapped around his waist (more than once!)… wow!   We ended the evening with a fantastic Father’s Day Dinner back at the house joined by Nathan’s sister Megan who met up with us at the previous  celebrations.   Ahh… friends, family, good food, and wine!

Day Two: we attacked the Vancouver sight-seeing possibilities with plans to have dinner with mom that night and sail on day three.   We had a quick stop at the bank where Toby had to salivate  over the Mountain Equipment Co-op across the street (Canada’s REI), while Nathan and I found out the US dollar is extremely weak.   Then it was off to a quaint, hot new grocery store on the side of town famous for its sidewalk heroin users.   Finally we made it to gas town, where Nathan says the loggers used to “get gassed” back in the day.   The official Gas Town website says it’s named after Gassy Jack, a tall-tale slinger who opened up the first saloon on the otherwise deserted stretch next to the mill.   The charming cobblestone streets and historic buildings are now the backdrop for many large cultural events, including the upcoming International Jazz Festival!

Afterwards we drove past Chinatown’s remaining street, stopped to check out the shreds remaining of the Olympic Village near the science museum, and ended up at Granville Island – my favorite destination for the day.   We watched a glassblower for awhile  (I really want to learn to do this!), visited the vibrant market where Nathan and Toby indulged in smoked salmon and sausages, walked around the docks checking out sail boats, and then visited the Kid’s Market and played with all the toys!   From that fun, we retired to Nate’s mom’s house in “West Van” – a cute little high rise  called the Lion’s Gate.   We had a cheese freakout in the form of appetizers: we got so full on feta, brie, and this amazing middle-eastern eggplant concoction that we couldn’t even imagine eating dinner without going on a walk first.

A few blocks down the street is the famed Vancouver sea wall walking path.   People come from all over the city for their evening stroll.   It was pleasantly populated and we enjoyed both the people watching and the view as the sun sank toward the horizon.   We were marveling at how the time slipped away when we realized it was the solstice!   So, with the sun still well above the horizon at 9:30 p.m., we headed back to make Thai curry.   Toby fixed it up, while Nathan chatted on the phone and I agonized over my next travel plans.   Not that we needed more food, but we ate Toby’s wonderful curry anyway, then we went ahead and had dessert.   Then Esther (Nathan’s delightful mother) brought out the chocolates – the delicious death kiss!   The highlight of the evening was getting to know Esther.   She is a truly incredible woman, so interesting, warm, sweet… wish she was my aunt so I’d get to see her at family reunions every few years!

Day Three was more my style (not that I don’t love exploring cities).   We took the boat to an inlet known as Indian Arm and got it all set up (quite  the process stepping the mast, getting all the lines attached, putting the motor on, attaching the rudder, dropping the keel, etc.).   Then we loaded more people than should probably fit on such a small boat – the three musketeers (Toby, Nathan, Jema), plus Taras, Melanie, and Esther.   As the wind puffed off and on, I worked on finishing 1984 (There are several classics I’ve yet to read).   We finally made it to the Twin Islands – a marine park that was fun to explore.   I hiked all the way around the main island, and then watched a testosterone war between Nathan and Taras thinly disguised as “Nathan learns to do a back flip off the dock.”   Silly boys!

Back on shore, we de-rigged and then headed to a quaint inlet town for some famous Gelato (like ice cream, but better and healthier).   It was to-die-for, and the people watching at the marina was great!

From there we gathered up items for a BBQ at Esther’s, collected my things for my morning journey, and headed back to West Van to spend my last Canadian evening barbecuing on the shore.   Thanks to the long, long days we were on the beach until past ten enjoying our chicken, salad, etc.   Then we drove up to an overlook with Taras to see the city lights and play with his new camera concocting all sorts of silly shots.   Of course we were late to bed and early to rise (me at least).   I was thankful to say goodbyes through the haze of sleepiness before Esther drove me to the train station.   Toby and Nathan are like brothers to me, and there is a pretty solid chance this is the last we’ll really see of each other, save weddings and the occasional visit each decade.   *sniffle*   I’ll miss you guys!

Stehekin & North Cascades National Park

Our arrival in Stehekin was glorious.   It’s a quaint little resort… well, “town” is pushing it.   The main building   off the dock is a restaurant, marina store, office, info booth complex.

Given the “canyon” character of the lake, there isn’t a lot of horizontal real estate too far from shore.    A road follows the lake shore and eventually the river with cabins on either side.   We would have loved to spend the morning exploring the town, but our hiking desires didn’t allow it.   We landed, rushed around collecting information about trails, made our choices, found out we had less than two hours to be  on the shuttle, and began the packing frenzy for our multi-day trip into North Cascades National Park.   The park has a shuttle that runs a few times a day up past several trailheads.   Our pick was at the end of the 11-mile road to nowhere.   (How does a lake town with no roads in or out get vehicles?   Tom’s Barge Service!)Dock permits were purchased  at the quaint marina store, our food holds in the boat were rummaged  through, meals were pieced  together, turns packing in the boat cabin were taken, and logistics phone calls were made  using my phone card on a courtesy satellite phone (Our last minute lake plans meant we had disappeared without telling anyone).   We threw out our thumbs for the shuttle bus, glimpsed the gorgeous Rainbow Falls on the way, and landed at High Bridge by noon!

Words can’t truly describe the feeling I get in the (real)  mountains – an overwhelming inner peace.   Glee and tranquility.   Maybe it’s how an anxious person feels after popping a Xanax?   I love it!   We had lunch atop enormous house sized boulders looking up the valley and I felt like I was home in the Big Horns (the Rockies where I grew up).   Our hasty packing combined with not wanting to carry more than we needed set us up for a hilarious food rationing situation.   Really, it was only a stressor for Toby, but it made every meal and snack a project. (Operation-Keep-Toby-From-Eating-All-The-Food!)

We made it to the gorgeous Flat Creek camp spot, complete with bear box, by late afternoon after eight to ten trail miles.   My new pack performed fantastically and I felt great!   We got our base camp set up, cooked dinner, and then tried for a fire in an on-off drizzle.   The boys got some good flames for a bit before the rain picked up and beat the fire.   Meanwhile, I worked on some correspondence and read my book.   Finally we retired to the dry tent, played crazy eights, and then war (which I won!).

I couldn’t wait for our hike the next day.   My only sadness about the Arcteryx  is that the “brain” (top of the pack) isn’t designed specifically to double as a day pack as many often are.   We pulled some buckles off of  other parts of my pack and made it work, though.   I wrote the company and am expecting a solution to arrive in the mail.   So, makeshift pack in tow, we ascended through maple, cedar, and fir forests into high meadows with cottonwoods.   I miss Wyoming!   Snow on the trail was intermittent, and it was still early spring in the high country.   Horseshoe Basin, our ultimate destination, was filled to the brim with snow, which was just as well.   After six or seven miles on the trail, we got to admire it among other soaring peaks from the other side of a flooded Basin Creek – gushing and not worth crossing twice in one day.

We lunched to an incredible view and had a gorgeous return hike.   The most eventful part of the day was still to come!   More evening drizzle caused us to turn in early and I was back to reading and writing letters.   I turned off my headlamp and had been asleep in the tent I shared with Nathan for an hour or so, when I my slumber was disturbed.

Nathan:   “Jema… [silence]  Jema.”

Me: “Huh?”

Nathan: “Could you turn on your headlamp?”

Me: “Huh?”

Nathan: “Could you turn on your headlamp?   I think I got electrocuted.”

Me: “Electrocuted?”
[thinking… we’re over twenty miles from the nearest sign of civilization, and 70 more from the nearest power pole.   You did NOT get electrocuted.]

Nathan: “Yeah.   Can you turn on the light?”

So I twist the light on, hand it to him, and roll over to go back to sleep.   After a few minutes of him rummaging around he says, “I think I got bitten.”   Of course this perks me up a bit more than the electrocution theory.   “Look over here.”   I do.   There is a mouse poo.   Nathan thinks, rather logically now, that he has been bitten  by a mouse.   If this is the case, there is a 99.9% chance that we are now rooming with a mouse in a very small tent.   What choice do we have but to investigate?   Yes, the tent door did get left two inches open.   We gently and hesitantly move around the what-nots in the tent until, “There it is!!!!!”   Of course the mouse freaks out and goes running – all very exciting for the two of us who would prefer not to be run across by a mouse.   After ten or fifteen minutes of adrenaline fueled quick thinking, resource calculating, and shouting and jumping around in the tent, I finally trap the mouse in a plastic bag.   What a hilarious night!

We had already planned on leaving the next day, but now we wanted to be  sure to get the earliest shuttle we could in case  Nathan needed to take the ferry down the lake for bite treatment.   We rose early, packed up wet camp gear (my least favorite camp chore), and hit the trail.   The skies were sunny, but the meadows we crossed soaked our pants.   We hustled back to High Bridge and lunched while we waited for the shuttle.   And you’ve never seen a woman so excited to see an outhouse!   Right before the shuttle arrived, a motley crew poured off the trail, including my favorite character: a shirtless, pot-bellied, former heavy-weight fighter with a bad hip covered in sweat who later hit up Nathan  in hopes of acquiring  some Mary Jane!

Toby, Nathan and I had become quite  the little tribe spending so much time in close quarters.   Our joy at being back in civilization, taking hot showers, getting to use the satellite phone, buying fresh chevre  from the gardener up the road, and cooking chevre/spinach/scallion crepes in  a shelter with an amazing view while drinking wine melted away tension if there was any!

Nathan didn’t have rabies, but the lead ranger on the med team who examined him was hilarious – an older gentleman who takes his job a little too seriously.   I loved the whole evening, including listening to Nathan play the fiddle lounging on the boat at the docks.

The highlight was getting to spend an indefinite time on the phone with Pat.   I sure am missing him, and absence really does make the heart grow fonder.   I am so glad he’s coming with me for the rest of the summer!

I christened the V-berth that night since Toby finally joined us on the boat (no convenient hammock set up options presented themselves).   It was wonderful being rocked to sleep, and waking to the sun on the hills around the lake.   We motored out of Stehekin and down the lake until the wind picked up.    After a bathroom break, suddenly the fierce winds were back.   We reefed the sail, and tacked almost all the way back.   Finally the wind died, we motored up to our take out, put the boat away, and spent another night under the stars in our former camp spot overlooking the river valley.   Heaven!

Lake Chelan – 55 miles of a canyon filled with glacier water!

The instant I laid eyes on them, Lake Chelan, Stehekin, and the North Cascades National Park automatically catapulted to the top of my favorites list for this summer.   Each is brilliant, breathtaking, captivating… truly magical.

After leaving Garrett in Salem, for the first time we stuffed all three of us into the cab of Toby’s 80’s Ford diesel (F250?).   We got a big bite out of our Lake Chelan drive before stopping at a campground near Multnomah Falls (Oregon’s tallest and quite famous) off of I-84.   When the  boat is on a trailer, it’s more like an RV.   Toby is very particular when it comes  to his personal comfort.   His insistence on his  hammock set-up ended up being  convenient, as it left the two spots in the cockpit open for Nathan and I.   Shortly after ten, we tossed a tarp over the boom  to ward off any of the ubiquitous Oregon rains that might materialize and snuggled into our sleeping bags for the night.

We awoke under the canopy of Oregon’s “jurassic” forests (they really do make you feel like dinosaurs are just around the corner)!   Not to break character, I rolled out first and early to race along the trails outside the campground and then stumbled upon – SHOWERS!!   When you’re on the road camp-style, finding a shower is similar to  stumbling across a $20 on the sidewalk in your every day life.   We tried to fit a visit to Multnomah  in, but it was clear parking a truck and trailer was going to be a non-option.   We settled for a quick photo taken in the middle of the road!

On our way to ‘The Dalles’ (rhymes with “pals” and yes, you must say *The* Dalles), we hemmed and hawed about how we would spend the next ten days.   Our original dreams were to sail two of the longest lakes in the Pacific Northwest – Lake Chelan Washington) and Kootenay Lake (Canada).   Eventually we chose the option that would cut two and a half days of driving out of the equation.

True to form, our trio turned what could have been a thirty minute stop into a two hour  foray.   We spent over an hour in The Dalles’ Fred Meyer parking lot epoxying  something-or-other, drying out clothes, remembering other things on the shopping list, etc.   Ridiculous.     And totally par for the course.   This put us in Chelan (the town at the foot of the lake) right around sunset – 9 p.m.-ish this time of year.   We did as much re-con as we could before heading up to find camping.   Side story: we are quite  the picture.   Our combined styles of dress, vehicle,  boat, etc. don’t quite add up.   We’re like a teenage boy who doesn’t know that stripes, red, polka dots, green, plaid, and platform shoes don’t really go together.   The best “look” we got was while obtaining ‘boat gas’ in Chelan.   Need to know: 1) Chelan is a resort town – think Tahoe or Vail.   2) our boat gas system is janky  – fill container  one with measuring capabilities, add to container two to mix additive, continue doing math possibly involving container three.   Repeat.   As we were working our magic on the gas, this brand new Mercedes Benz with two sixty-something country-club type people pulled in.   After seeing back seat Ms. Snooty’s lips clearly say to her companions, “What are those people DOING?!” they decided to go to another gas station.   Hilarious!

Finding camping turned into a hallmark story a week later.   It all started when Nathan and I agreed it would be silly to pay to camp.   We didn’t need any facilities, it was late so we’d be straight to bed, we were getting up early to launch the boat, and campgrounds are far less pleasant than your own little cozy pull-out on a country road.   Toby, however, didn’t see it this way.   For him, it was late, we didn’t know our way around, and any pullout – including ones we had seen on our way to the launch point – would require re-con and more driving.   This classic two-against-one scenario would repeat itself again and again over the next few weeks.   Anyway, Nathan and I prevailed in the face of Toby’s extreme irritation and landed a gorgeous spot in the National Forest overlooking a river valley under pine trees!

The morning run left my quads aching for days as I unintentionally ended up running hills – all the way down to the bottom of the river valley, up the other side, and back again.   It was gorgeous!   We were quite  the show in camp, as all of us have committed to our fitness on the road.   Push-ups, ab work using rocks as weights, substituting our five gallon bucket for a yoga ball, grabbing boat cushions for sit-up mats – all amongst the sage brush under the trees!

Our launch was lengthy (of course) and uneventful.   Eventually we were under way in a gentle breeze – perfect for practicing maneuvers, soaking up the sun, and reading my book.   Chelan is a 55 mile long lake carved by glaciers.   It’s basically like sailing up a wide, pristine, canyon on dazzling blue waters that plunge over 1,400 feet to the lake floor.   The lake drops off almost immediately, so there are no beaches, really.   Just rocks along the shore that give way to 20 foot drop-offs.   It’s breathtaking!   And did I mention the water is freezing?   Oh yeah, and after our launch point at Twenty-five Mile Creek, there are no roads in or out.   Communities, yes.   Roads to the outside world? No.

We spent the night a Graham Harbor – a tiny pullout along the lake.   Four men were having their 30th annual high-school reunion and had taken over the best tables and fire pits for their shenanigans.

After cooking curry with a beautiful view up the lake, and a quick lake shower before sunset, we cozied  in alongside them and listened to their tales.   Dick, the investment banker from Seattle, kept encouraging us to stay late into the night as he plied us with questions about which drugs are in style now, what raves and parties are like, etc.   I don’t know how we finally got away for bed!

The morning didn’t deliver the breezes we had hoped for, so I enjoyed more sunbathing as we lazed  our way up the lake.   We stopped at the intense, gushing Domke Falls (like a Brit might say Donkey) for lunch with an impressive view.

Twenty minutes later, we got the wind we’d been wishing for and then some.   Soon we were sailing through the most intense weather Toby and Nathan had seen in Lhungta.   The nearly gale-force winds  blew straight down the lake into our faces, covering us in spray as we crashed through three and four foot  waves.   Tacking back and forth was nerve-racking as we slammed from side to side.   Each tack felt like we would tip the sailboat into the water for sure as we scrambled from high side to high side.   What did I sign up for?!   It was clear just how bad it was when Nathan-the-risk-taker started saying we should think about turning around.   This time the two-against-one was Toby and I insisting that we were almost to our destination.   When we finally landed at Refrigerator Harbor, the boater/campers who watched us come in couldn’t wait to tell us how crazy they thought we were!

 As we set up camp on the remarkably calm shore, we could see the mast of the boat tipping back and forth like an out-of-control metronome.   We explored the cave formerly used to keep mining dynamite cool back in the day before making dinner and joining our buddies – let’s call them Chad and Eric, local boys  up camping  – at the campfire.   There was also a little lake-shore community a quarter-mile from the campground.   The caretaker joined us at the fire, a classic “old guy” plying us with tales of his Vietnam days.     In the morning, due to fierce winds, we decided to stay another day at Refrigerator Harbor.   We had a relaxing morning before hiking up to Domke Lake for a picnic.   The lake is big enough to land a float plane and has one “full-time” resident who stays nine-months a year with his horses, dirt bike to get up and down, cabin, and various outbuildings.   We also hiked toward Emerald Lake swatting mosquitoes through the swampy areas until we reached a creek we couldn’t cross.

The only events that night were meeting the local volunteer ranger and his friends up to visit, and Nathan trying to kill himself with the pressure cooker (how else are we going to make killer food in camp?!).   We turned in early with an agreement to be  on the lake no later than 6:30 a.m. to beat the winds up the lake.   We made it to Stehekin at the head of the lake by 8:30!   Finally!

“The Cabin”, Hotsprings, & Sailing!

Let the sailing summer begin!

Back-story:  Garrett and I have been friends for eight years.   Ever since I’ve known him, I’ve known about “the cabin” – a family-owned piece of heaven somewhere in the Oregon woods.   Despite all our talk and my love of the outdoors, I’ve never actually made it to the cabin – until now!

Back-story #2: Garrett’s newfound love is sailing.   A big part of my summer plans  were joining some of my Humboldt “family” (Toby and Nathan) on their summer sailing adventure  whenever  they made  it up to Oregon/Washington from Cali.

Obviously it was perfect for us all to meet up at “the cabin” near the rather large Detroit Lake in Oregon!

We had four days  and three nights of bliss!   The first day Garrett’s  childhood friend Micah joined us.   By late afternoon we had the boat (Lhungta  or “good winds”) on the water and were enjoying a gentle sail.   Then it was off to the cabin to de-winterize, cook up some grub, enjoy libations by the fire, play music, and laugh and talk all night!

The crowning jewel was the hot springs resort down the road.   Apparently the resort generally allows respectful cabin owners to come down and use the facilities.   We  finished off the evening with an  awesome moonlight visit to several delightful hot  pools by the rushing Breitenbush River.   Heaven!

One of my favorite mini-rituals I adopted at the cabin was a morning run in the woods.   It was an awesome way to start every day – dashing through the trees!   Second favorite: outdoor showers.   My new traveler shampoo is awesome, and it was so fun to fetch water from the spring, scrub down in the sunshine, and then douse with pot after shocking  pot of water.

Micah took off early the second day, and the rest of us  hit up the lake for  a day of bonafide sailing.   It was great!   We were so exhausted at the end of the day, we didn’t even make it to the hot springs after dinner.

Our third day dawned  full of rain clouds, so we opted for hiking instead of sailing.   The unusually late  precipitation and low temps that plagued (helped?) most of the western U.S. this spring/summer meant Garrett’s favorite trail was still snow covered.   We went a few hundred yards on a slushy three foot snow pack, but my sandals (didn’t have room for boots!) weren’t up to the sloppy challenge.   Instead we navigated back roads Garrett always wanted to explore and ended up on a gorgeous, lower elevation hike to a lake surrounded by blooming Rhododendrons.   Amazing!

We made it back to the cabin in the late afternoon and went for a daylight dip in the hotsprings.   After our busy day, I practically melted.   At dinner, the increasingly brave chipmunks (we thought we’d been protecting our food from mice) started joining us indoors.

We had some pretty hilarious shoe-chucking, broom-chasing bouts while we lounged by the fire and the boys helped me with my chronically challenging shoulder.   By sunrise the next morning, the chipmunks had no fear remaining and blithely flitted about the room on a food  attack mission.   (Frustrating, obviously, for those of us who spent late hours fireside and didn’t want to get up with the sun.   ARGH!)

After my last cabin run 🙁 we chipmunk proofed the cabin (as best as  one can) and went to pack up the boat.   A sudden downpour left the three people with rain jackets handy doing the final tie down while I supervised from the car – sorry boys!  (see photos.)   Garrett’s aunt and uncle live an hour from the cabin, so we stopped to see them on our way to our next adventure.   They sweetly let us do laundry (Toby and Nathan were especially hurting in this department), made us an amazing cobbler, and let us fix dinner in their kitchen.   Pinna and Terry were so charming, warm, really engaged, and interesting folks to talk to.    We wished we could have stayed longer!

We parted ways with  Garrett in Salem – he headed south to Eugene, and we  made headway on our ultimate  destination –  Lake Chelan,  Washington!

Vancouver Vacation & Portland Pals

The lovely Tai turned me loose in a Portland park on Memorial Day, and Amy rescued me minutes later from smelly cigarette wioman.   Amy was my first college friend and is fun, fascinating, sharp, brilliant – awesome!   It was just like old times as we picked up her man, went out for a Zells brunch, and played spades into the afternoon.

Sochetra  (awesome former college roommate) and Jeff made it back to town in time to catch the end of REI’s monster sale.   I met up with them while they shopped and spent two more fun-filled  days with them in Vancouver (just north of Portland).   I got to meet the cats, spend time in their beautiful, light-filled home, tour Sochetra’s handiwork that’s turned their backyard into a little paradise, make awesome meals, and get schooled at scrabble.   I definitely recommend the lovely hikes and walks we did along the Columbia in Vancouver near Patterson (!!!) Air Base and Capitol Hill in downtown Portland.

Also amazing was the pulled pork and Trivial Pursuit night at the neighbor’s (I proudly held my own in spite of competing against others who were actually alive when the game came  out).   The only rain we got was during our delightful meal at ‘Por Que No?’ – perfect!   My most interesting discoveries, at the gorgeous Rose Garden, was that purple roses are by far the strongest, and that smelling rich roses leaves me feeling strangely full – as in not hungry.   What gives?

Sochetra  had to go back to work Wednesday, so I was on to round two with the amazing Amy.   She lives in St. Helens – a great little community 30 minutes north of Portland – and commutes for her jobs in Portland.   We spent the afternoon playing spades and lounging, and then it was off to the Old Spaghetti Factory where she waitresses part-time for extra cash.   I was delighted  to get to partake in the pasta mecca by way of their gluten free options.   And of course I ate all my ice cream and Amy’s, too!   After meeting up with her rad friend Lydia and her man Robert, we hit up the Ambassador karaoke scene.   It was perfect!   Not very many folks, plenty of silly routines, so much fun!

The next day, I got to go into work with Amy for her other job – a volunteer coordinator at a cool non-profit.   In between internet-ing, I set out on an adventure to find more of the special travel shampoo.   I ended up lost in the hills above Portland in fancy neighborhoods next to one of the fancy colleges.   It was a great self tour, and it only cost me a tank of gas and one delicious Laughing Planet lunch.

Thursday night I was flattered  to get my wish for a Portland meet-and-greet.   A childhood friend of mine is getting married this summer.   The stage is set  for an awesome wedding, and I saw an opportunity to get to know the numerous  P-town folks who will be in attendance.   Chris and his fiance, Julie, hosted a killer evening.   Their friends are amazing as were the  to-die-for dishes and libations!   Afterwards, Amy and I tackled the commute back to St. Helens  together – it was really fun getting to be a part of her life!

At the Chris & Julie fiesta, one of my high-school-best-friends was in attendance, and we arranged a weekend reunion.   Deb’s man-friend, Jesse, collected me from Amy’s care on her way to an out-of-town  music fest.   Together Jesse and I got lost and then found until we finally ended up at Deb’s work.   After a lovely dinner with a friend of Deb’s, our prospective plans with Chris turned into my prospective plans as work-week exhaustion set in.   I inappropriately complained about our lack of posse for awhile (Julie packing for a trip, other friends either staying home or at clubs) before settling down and enjoying an awesome evening.   We  dabbled in  creative cocktails at an establishment serving a plethora of infused liqueurs and liquors before making fun friends at the rooftop bar that we ended up closing down!

I was grateful to have Chris and Julie’s guest bedroom as my unexpected resting place.   Too many Sake Margaritas made the “gentle” (*earsplitting*!) setting on the early alarm a bit painful.   I managed breakfast in Multnomah  Village with the same crew from the night before.   Then Deb, Jesse, and I met up with the capricious and wonderful Ben Carver – another college friend of mine.   The afternoon was perfect with found free paints, yummy mid-day mexican, and life-size Jenga.   Everyone else retired, and Ben and I rode bikes downtown to shop, grab food-cart Thai, and people watch pre-Rose-Fest-Starlight-parade.

That night, Garrett sent “his people” for me.   He’d just finished the daunting CFA-II exam as mentioned in a previous  blog, and had been celebrating  ever since.   His friends Tom and Sermine  (who, as the six degree rule would have it, are also friends with Jeff and Sochetra) were hosting him.   The four of us met up with Deb and Jesse at the infamous Papa Haydens for some out-of-this-world desserts.

The next day at Deb’s I finally got a good swing in on my fight against vacation poisons (too much celebrating, not enough moving).   We had a glorious run at the track nearby, explored Powells  (why can’t I quit buying books?!), and braved the line at Voodoo Donuts (mmmm Maple Bacon Bar!).   In the morning Deb was off to work, and I was off to my next vacation destination – Detroit Lake and “the cabin”!

Portland Peregrination

When I talked to my friend Tai several weeks ago about her desire  to make  a life change, I quickly did the math.   I had lots of free time, a holiday weekend was coming for her, and we were both wanting to be in Northern Oregon.   She’s considering Portland for her next home, so I leapt at the chance to show her around the city.

We’re both on budgets, and we needed help learning about the city from  various perspectives.   We turned to Servas, a wonderful organization with a mission that sounds a bit fluffy, but really works quite  well.   Officially they are into “international peacekeeping.”   They connect interviewed and approved hosts and travelers in various places.   Servas  reasons that misunderstanding based in fear is the foundation of unrest.   So, they promote cultural exchange and hopefully understanding.   I am a U.S. host with access to inter-country reciprocity.   I arranged two places for us to stay, and we were off!

Bonnie and Pete are, as far as we could tell, a really wonderful couple.   Both doctors, involved in community, and well traveled.   So much so, that they were traveling during our planned stay.   Sweet, trusting folks that they are, they did what had been done for them in Italy once.   The key to their gorgeous home was under the mat when we arrived on Friday!    We ate dinner to NPR, chatted with their neighbor who came by to check on us, and got lots of rest!

Saturday the city was filled  with the pulse of the annual Rose Festival.   In the A.M. we ventured on free public transit across the river to  the downtown Saturday Markets.   Vendors had countless treasures on display  – jewelry, handmade soaps, tulip  lamps,  dog treats, BBQ sauce, and more!   The Farmer’s Market  even hosted a few  of the notorious food carts we’d been admonished to try.   An amazing crepe made the cut for Tai!

In the afternoon, we moved on to new  Servas  hosts in North Portland.   Yes, it’s amazing to have a swanky, historic house all to yourselves.   But our goal to interact edged out the posh digs.   Courtney and Matt were great!   She’s a professor and he’s an enthusiast and community organizer.   They incorporated us into their lives, shared their wealth of knowledge about the city (they’ve lived in almost every part), drove us all over town sightseeing, and gave us our space to explore more in depth.

We declined the offer to spend Saturday night  at an event our hosts were obligatorily  attending.     Instead, we set out for Ethiopian, but couldn’t resist the food cart treat of grilled cheese (gluten free bread!!!) in a school-bus-cum-dining-facility.

After a Bubble Tea dessert, we started dialing folks I knew  who might want to play (and tell Tai about their version of Portland).   We scored an evening with the beloved Ben Carver walking about Hawthorne & Burnside, dining at East Burn, drinking cherry porter, and attempting to break into the  Chopsticks karaoke scene  before Tai and I headed back a’la  our self imposed curfew.

Sunday, after a NoPo (north Portland) Farmer’s Market tour, we joined the Memorial Day masses in “the Gorge.”

This scenic stretch east up the Columbia River is home to dozens of beautiful waterfalls, and scores of amazing hikes.   We drove past the famous and hopelessly packed Multnomah  Falls (tallest in Oregon) and squeezed into a parking spot at Eagle Creek.   The highly recommended trail loomed over a beautiful canyon and creek below.  Often we held onto steel cables as we traversed a narrow path cut out of the edge of a muddy, slippery cliff!

We were rewarded with two waterfall views before we headed back to town to shop on 23rd.

Tai found some hot items in a few boutiques and happened upon some soap I’ve had on my wishlist  for months.   It’s shampoo with the water removed and purported to be  the traveler’s perfect toiletry.   So far I love it, but it will be put to the real test when Pat and I run the wedding gauntlet in August.

Sunday night we managed a quadruple culture shot.   We finally made it to Ethiopian. We had to-die-for-dessert at the Montage where flaming drinks abound and leftovers come wrapped in three-foot-tall aluminum-foil sculptures.

We got lost in Powell’s – a bookstore encompassing an entire city block with a maze of mezzanines and levels all identified by color.   We finished the night with our hosts at Voodoo Donuts, infamous for its creatively named and quirky donuts.   From the Old Dirty Bastard (regular donut topped with Oreo’s, peanut butter, and chocolate), to the Tex-ass Challenge (a supersized regular donut – eat it in under 80 seconds, get your money back), to the Maple Bacon and the Gay Bar (yes, maple frosting topped with bacon, and a cream filled bar with a rainbow of fruit loops, respectively), we had a blast!

Monday Tai headed back to Humboldt with a wealth of new Portland knowledge, and began work on my second Portland goal – see all my P-town friends!

Study Buddy & Eugene Ambassador

My good friend Garrett and I met eight years ago in a mandatory training class for a U of O Housing job.   He is funny, positive, spontaneous, adventurous, and an awesome friend.   This blog was almost about the two of us traveling together for half a summer in Mexico, but Garrett is allergic to planning and coordinating.   Right now he is living in Eugene and studying for the CFA-II (Chartered Financial Analyst?) in a week or so.   It’s a big, challenging test, so most of my time here has been spent having quiet time on the other computer trying desperately to catch up on my blog.

When I got into Eugene from the farm, I pulled Garrett away from his studies and we took a walk around his old neighbourhood seeing the sights.   It was peaceful and fun to see him reminisce about all the places he hasn’t been in years.   Then I was off for a lunch date with a random blast from my past. Backstory: several months ago on Facebook I got a “’so-and-so’ wants to be your friend” message from a guy I knew in another lifetime.   Kevin, Chris, and I were like the three musketeers for a wild summer and then some: the advent of ICQ (like MSN messenger) was fertile ground for our friendship.   After some legal troubles, Kevin disappeared and I never heard from him again.   Isn’t facebook amazing?

He happens to be attending my alma mater, so I arranged to meet him at my favorite campus Chinese lunch spot.
It was an awkward reunion in a shared tables restaurant with the very-much-changed Kevin yelling over the subtle din.   Afterwards we circled the campus checking out all the changes, most of which I found hideous.   The U of O is a combination of  historical Victorian-era buildings combined with others of excellent brickwork, for the most part.   The campus has an ivy-league-ish presence — much loved and very uncommon for a state school.
Now, at the leading edge, they have constructed two new gleaming silver and concrete edifices — both paying homage to the athletes and the athletics program which provide a fat cushion for the university.   Jocks rule, nerds drool, I guess.
I successfully posed as a student to visit the art museum with Kevin (it was closed  for renovation for precisely the number of terms I was a student there), and spent a few hours wandering  the exhibits.   Halfway back to my car the ever-present rain started drumming and we parted ways, leaving me with time to shop for Lauren’s birthday present and arrange a free visit to the local gym before dinner.   I’d met Garrett’s parents before, but never gotten to spend time with them.   We made a quick pesto/pasta/salmon dinner, I introduced them to Slug Slime (a Los Bagels beloved spice), and the succumbed to pumpkin pie (filling for me) and homemade whipped cream.   Twice.   Mmmm!
In the morning, I managed to get Garrett out for a hike up Mt. Pisgah — a local peak.   Unfortunately for us, the looming rain clouds swallowed us up just thirty seconds after reaching the summit.   Glad for a peek at the view, we gave up our meager shelter under oak trees and succumbed to being completely soaked on our return trip.

Back home, after several hours of Portland plan-making for the next week, I headed to campus to attend a “Women Travelers” seminar I’d heard about.   It ended up being a terribly disguised speech by a Hostelling  International representative chock full of dated and dangerous advice (she hadn’t traveled since the 90’s and told a questioning woman that, faced with unwanted physical attention from men on the road, she should grin and bear it in order to  avoid cultural offense!).   Ack!   The whole ordeal faded quickly in the face of a yummy quinoa veggie dinner topped off with another round of pumpkin pie.

 Coordinating visits to friends is significantly more complicated and stressful than just traveling — so I stayed up too late lining out more plans for Portland.   In the morning, I rushed to prepare for the impending car-ditch.   I needed three different sets of gear (city, cabin, sailing/backpacking) to be spread among four different bags and three different vehicles ultimately landing me in Vancouver, B.C. with only one bag to impose upon whatever ride I find back south.   I managed to get it together, late of course, which worked well for Erica.

Erica and I met in Arcata when I unexpectedly worked/volunteered a stint as a pre-school gymnastics teacher right after Pat and I moved to Humboldt.   I trained her on the ins and outs of managing a wild bunch of screaming, leaping, tumbling, cutest-things-you’ve-ever-seens, and we hit it off on subsequent  bike rides, hikes, etc.   She graduated from HSU  recently, and has moved back to Oregon to re-establish residency before getting her masters at the U of O.   I was delighted  to play Eugene tour guide.   I took her up Spencer’s Butte, pointed out hot spots, went on a walking tour, happened across a free beer tasting, introduced her to a few old haunts (High Street McMenamins, Max’s), and ended up at a place I never knew existed but apparently has for years.

I was right at home at “The Cooler” — essentially a giant barn complete with karaoke and $1 well drinks (obviously the makings for a wild evening).   We had a great time, sang our hearts out (or was that me?), and ended up at a dive in West Eugene to finish out the night.

We made it out to Studio One — the most awesome French toast in the world — for breakfast in the morning, went for a nice morning stroll, visited Skinner’s Butte and then I was off to meet Tai for our Memorial Day Weekend tour of Portland and drop off my car to be  babysat at the farm (thank you Matt and Lauren!).

Farm Friends

I had a great time in Humboldt visiting my CASA kid and having a few days to get personal affairs in order. Tearing myself away from Pat on Sunday was a challenge. I told Matt and Lauren (former college-roommate and much-admired lifelong friends) I’d make it to Eugene by mid-afternoon, but I seemed to keep finding all sorts of little domestic things to do that can be so enjoyable to do as a couple. We went to the gym, made breakfast, went on a walk, picked rosemary for Matt and Lauren, loaded the car, and suddenly it wasn’t 6 a.m. anymore.

 I thought I could make up time on the road, but those plans came to a screeching halt — literally — as I rounded a bend in the I-5 with a pack of five other cars and suddenly rubber was burning in all directions. The traffic was at a dead-stop for five minutes, then crawled for over an hour, completely dashing my hopes of claiming some semblance of an on-time arrival. Argh!  

 Despite my tardy arrival, Lauren, Matt and I still had a fun afternoon and evening planting a few things in the garden, catching up, and sharing a wonderful meal. I love the farm where they live and am always so impressed to see all the fun projects they are working on.

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Right now they’re putting in a hand-hewn cedar fence, just planted a wonderful fruit orchard, and they put in filbert (hazelnut) starts in the front pasture. I can’t wait to see it in a few years! Barely second to my wanderlust  is my crush on the pastoral life. Both Pat and I would love to have a place out of town and live a subsistence existence. Maybe someday when my love of travel subsides. (Ha!)

Lauren had to work until the afternoon the day following my arrival, so I busied myself with a run in the countryside, then tidying up, potting the basil starts, and watching the bees and hummingbirds go crazy with the sugar-water feeder.

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Lauren made some killer mac’n’cheese for dinner, and the only thing that would have made the evening better is having Pat there. Lauren and Matt are one of our favorite couples to spend time with, and I knew Pat was sad to be  missing it. After a fun breakfast on Tuesday morning, complete with freshly ground and hydrated black beans from last year’s harvest (like refried beans), Lauren was off to work and I was off to Eugene!

Mystery Bonanza

This is one of the most mind-boggling things that has ever happened to me.   I’m still speechless!

The story: I’m visiting Pat and my CASA kid for a few days before heading north to Eugene, Oregon then Portland, Oregon, then onto sailing in Washington and Canada.   I arrived yesterday, P.M.   I spent my morning on a frenzy of “I-live-in-my-car-now” list of to-dos that are more easily accomplished in a home with internet.

Around lunch, Wonderful Neighbor Meg from upstairs comes a-calling with myriad business items, including a package that was delivered  accidentally to their door.   It is addressed  to me, as big as a bag of potting soil, and relatively light.   We pontificate about what it might contain while I find a tape-slicing device.   As I saw away at the seams, it dawns on Meg that perhaps it was meant  to be  delivered to her as a way of keeping it secret from the recipient until the appropriate  time.   She tackles the box just as I pull open the final  seam and see an Arcteryx logo.

  • Educational Tangent:
    What is an Arcteryx?   That doesn’t matter.   What does matter is that Arcteryx  is the brand-name for the maker of the new Altra  backpack.   This is the Ferrari of backpacks.   Perfect design features, unbelieveable  ergonomics, extreme durability… clearly anyone who likes to carry survival items into the woods for extended periods of enjoyment would salivate  at the mere thought of this backpack.   Clearly, a woman who is not above sustaining herself for multiple days soley  on bananas and peanut butter (that’s me) would never in her life deign to spend the kind of money it takes to buy a Ferrari.   Or an Arcteryx.   Unfathomable.

So, Meg demands that I wait, or at least call Pat who may know about a surprise backpack before I explore the package further.   I concede, but Pat knows nothing.   I open the box all the way and find that yes, it really is an Arcteryx  Altra 62 backpack in black with my name on the shipping label from a business called “Hermits Hut” in Redding, California three hours east of Arcata.   The hunt is on as I unzip every pocket and compartment searching for an explanation.   Nothing!

In the bottom of the box is an envelope.   In the envelope is a brochure about the business that shipped the backpack.   In the brochure is a receipt with my name on it.   I call the number on the receipt, talk to the cashier whose name is listed  as the responsible party for processing the order on Cinco de Mayo at 6:10 p.m.   A condensed version of the conversation is as follows:

Me: Hi.   My name is Jema.   Can you tell me who the buyer was for receipt #10014?

Him: You were.

Me: No, I wasn’t.

Him: It was purchased with a money order that came in the mail.   According to our records, you are the buyer.

Me: This is impossible.   This is the most amazing backpack on the planet.

Him: I know.   I sell them everyday to people around the world.   It’s the best.

Me: But, I don’t even know exactly how to get a money order.   Who did this?

Him: I don’t know, but I want to know, too, so they can be my friend!

Me:   Unbelieveable!   Okay, well, gee.   Thanks.   Arcteryx  Altra.   Wow.   That’s amazing.   Okay.   Well, thanks.   For helping.   Kind of.   Umm, have a great day!

The Usual Suspects: Umm… no one.   My parents?   Pat’s parents?   I can think of no one who:

a) knows that I agree that an Arcteryx  Altra is the most incredible piece of outdoor equipment on the planet

b) knows my “incredibly-difficult-cannot-be-divined-from-standard-city-planning-knowledge” address

c) *the clincher* – has enough disposable cash for the Ferrari of backpacks

Multiple phone calls later to people who might have answers, I am still dazed and confused.   And awestruck.   And beginning to dare to entertain thoughts of outdoor adventures, hopefully with nephews in tow, while I volunteer to carry a hundred pounds of group gear in my ergonmically  incredible Arcteryx  Altra.

I haven’t given up the search yet.   I would like to know, so I can express my awestruck grateful sentiments, who are you?!

Santa Barbara & Northbound Riders

First — the great news — Pat is going to travel with me this whole summer (starting in July).   I’m so excited!

Anyway”¦ Adrian zoomed us home from Sequoia National Park on Sunday in record time.   After showering and posting my craigslist ride offer, I got right down to business on my remaining to-dos: go on a motorcycle ride (Adrian bought a “crotch rocket”) and hopefully a plane ride (A is working on hours for his commercial pilot ratings).

Santa Barbara is on the south-facing coast of southern California and is backed by some really beautiful mountains.

I pled my case and we ended up on a really fun, fast, corner-filled sunset motorcycle ride with amazing views of the coast and the valley on the other side of the mountains.

Definitely top five rides ever!   Then we pieced together dinner from our backpacking leftovers and ate and watched a movie with Pieter.   I never would have picked up Sherlock Holmes for myself, but it was actually pretty good!

Monday I had the house to myself while everyone was at work.   I dried out camping gear, managed and coordinated a plethora of interested craigslist riders, went on a gorgeous run down to the waterfront, walked around on the pier and up State Street (the fun commercial district), and got food for dinner.

I begged Adrian for a plane ride when he got off work, but I got shut down by poor weather conditions and his groggy, sinus-drug-addled brain.   My consolation prize was another motorcycle ride – this time to the neighboring municipality that is home to UCSB (University of California – Santa Barbara).   Then we went up to Pieter’s campus and on a tour of various Santa Barbara highlights (courthouse, mission, etc.)

I broke out the glass noodle salad I learned to make in Thailand for dinner, and we three musketeers finished off Sherlock Holmes complimented by a hefty, unnecessary, delightful rounds of beer and popcorn.   It was a great end to my visit!

The following morning, I needed to head back to Humboldt to see my CASA kid before she left on a three week vacation.   I am doing my best to see her as much as possible this summer.   Tuesday at 6 a.m. came earlier than imagined, but I made it to my first of five craigslist rider pick ups for the day on time.   Ariel was wonderful!   Next we picked up Andre, who was quite a character.   Not only did he fail to give me an apartment number for a multi-acre apartment complex, not only was he not awake when we called him for said detail, not only did he let me call him “Ty” (actually ”˜thank you’ at the end of his email vs. the signature that I mistook it for), not only did he have the nerve to attempt to demand that the whole day revolve around what time he “needed” to be to his destination, but he was also a thorough so-cal cultural stereotype.   He was so absurd that he was funny, but everything worked out great.   Ariel, Andre and I zipped from Santa Barbara to Berkeley in record time with a short stop in San Jose to meet a guy who, after heavy negotiating by Andre, was talked into another form of transport.

I traveled the Berkeley to Santa Rosa stretch on my own, but then picked up Aren.   Craigslist is, for the most part, totally wonderful.   However, as with any online, stranger-meeting endeavor, it’s advisable to exercise a bit of suspicion.   I knew Aren (Santa Rosa to Humboldt) would be wonderful, but wasn’t sold on Michael (Ukiah to Humboldt).   Therefore, no Aren would mean no Michael.   The whole situation was complicated by none of us having cell phones.   In the end, I waited around outside a house in Santa Rosa for a half hour, Aren showed up, Michael showed up, and we all had a great time chatting the whole way back to Humboldt.   It was a pretty killer day — I had conversation/entertainment for almost the whole drive, and people pitching in for gas ended up covering all fuel costs.   Top it all off with dinner at my favorite Mexican restaurant with Adam, Chelsey and brother Ben and you couldn’t find a happier Jema.