Oregon is gorge-ous

I’m a bit of a gorge snob after all the time I’ve spent in New York State’s Finger Lakes but the Columbia River Gorge, just east of Portland is nothing to sneeze at. The waterfalls are very different from the ones around Ithaca (see the photo above) but just as spectacular in a different way. I think it may have to do with the scale. The waterfalls we saw yesterday during our drive along the old scenic highway30 were very high and a straight shot down, unlike the Ithaca waterfalls which meander, with the water spreading out across a wide rock face. The Oregon falls were very powerful, thanks to the snow melt and spring rain, kind of the effect you’d get draping a hose over a high mountain and turning the water on full force.  At Multnomah Falls and several smaller falls en route, the water came crashing directly downward with furious force, hitting the rocks and pool below with a steady crash that caused water and mist to shoot up.

It’s a sight I wasn’t sure we’d have time to see but I’m glad that rainy weather forced us to take to the car sooner than expected so we had some time to travel along that charming old highway, past heavily moss-coated trees – kind of looked like a green version of andora, or whatever that mythical land is in Avatar. There were surprises along the way including an old observatory with gorgeous marbled stain glass windows and a glorious view of the Columbia River gorge. We ate mediocre – as expected – food at the charming Multnomah Falls Lodge, in a high-ceilinged dining room with walls made of giant rough-hewn grey stones. We made it as far as Stevenson, Wash., crossing over the very cool steel Bridge of Gods spanning the river, and  had hot chocolate at a funky little coffee shop – Bahma Coffee Bar.

Our four-and-a-half hour drive south on Highway 5 to Medford turned into a white-knuckle journey about midway when we hit rain and then, all of a sudden, snow flurries as we drove through high curving mountain passes – we for some reason didn’t realize we’d be driving through mountains. Googlemaps doesn’t really fill you in on the topography – or maybe it does and we didn’t think to ask. But during our trip west to the coast, we’ll definitely have to take the mountains into account. And travel by day not eve.

Dirck’s sister D. lives in a lovely 1920’s bungalow on a quiet residential street – with hammocks on the front porch and a beautiful red-and-white camellia tree (bush?) in the yard. The sky is a flawless blue for the first time during our trip and the grass is so green it looks like the set of the movie “Blue Velvet.” A sight for sore eyes coming from grey snowy/muddy Iowa!

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Portland: in the rain

W e shouldn’t be surprised that it’s raining here but what is surprising is that people seemed so pleased about it. As one young hip saleswoman at one of the endless young hip design stores in this southwest Portland neighborhood told me, they need rain after a long stretch of surprisingly sunny weather. (Just our luck.) We’d be better equipped to take the rain in stride if we both didn’t have bad colds that we’re still trying to get over. Walking in cold rain probably isn’t the way to do that.

But we did some walking yesterday because this city is irresistable and we found the Pearl District only a short walk away and, as advertised, full of interesting shops, architecture, restaurants, brewpubs, coffee houses and people.

We dutifully stopped at Powell’s Books which was so  big it was overwhelming. The cashier pointed us to a good brewpub nearby, Deschutes which was packed with a happy Happy Hour crowd – a big open place with lots of wood and woodcut landscapes. Later we had dinner at Clyde Common in the trendy Ace Hotel, sharing a table – as is the custom there – with what turned out to be a friendly group of 7 people. I sat next to Mike, originally from Vancouver but now living in Bend, who appeared to be a successful, albeit modest, graphic designer with accounts like Nike.  We got friendly enough that he dunked his bread in the broth of my main course to give it a try – although I didn’t dare stick my fork in his bowl of lamb and some sort of grain. The food was good – very one-of-a-kind (ex: olive-oil marinated octopus with frisee, fingerlings potatoes, chorizo in a “squid ink vinaigrette” Yum) and the place had a not-irritating alternative vibe.

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Portland at last

We managed to leave foggy,rainy  Des Moines on time and arrived in rainy but not foggy Portland a little early. And there are blossoms here – pink, white, purple branches on the trees and green grass. So nice to see.  The light rail – as advertised – was easy to find and use and took us within blocks of our hotel, a little boutique place called Hotel DeLuxe that has an old hollywood theme with black and white photos of old movie stars (Rita hayworth in the lobby; Marlene Dietrich, we think, above our bed. Our Emma, a movie buff,,  would love this place.,) Hotel staff couldn’t be friendlier and upgraded us to a suite that’s most comfortable, with plush mustard and green colored art deco-ish couch and arm chair.  So after a short rest,we’ll don our raincoats and hit the town. Yipee!

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Portland dining indecision

Two days until we leave for Portland and I still have settled on where to eat – there are just too many options. And I just read about yet another one in the Sunday NYT travel section – a Thai restaurant and bar with the unlikely name of Whiskey Soda Lounge (doesn’t that just scream “THAI FOOD”?) that is a spin-off another Thai restaurant across the street that was on my list: Pok Pok. The Lounge serves something I don’t believe I’ve eaten – “Thai pub snacks” which are basically small plates of  things like garlicky frogs legs (no thank you) and dried shrimp salad on a betel leaf (maybe). Since drinks appear to be as important as the food here I may skip – since I”m not much of a drinker (let alone a drinker of anything made with “honey-flavored drinking vinegar.” One thing I have noticed is that few of the restaurants I’m interested in seem to take reservations – don’t know what this means for a Thursday night dinner, not to mention a Friday or Saturday night.

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Cleveland: takemewithyou

For my neighbors who are heading to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame (BRUCE!!!) over spring break, here are a few finds in Cleveland:

– West Side Market (1979 West 25th Street; 216-664-3387; www.westsidemarket.com) – cavernous old indoor market made of yellow brick (as I recall) and dozens of stands selling good stuff – meat, cheese, middle eastern food, sweets. It’s not  THAT far from the RR Hall of Fame, downtown. It’s a National Historic Landmark to boot.

– Guarino’s, an old-fashioned southern Italian restaurant in Cleveland’s little Italy – There are hipper places but nothing older, apparently. This is Cleveland’s oldest restaurant – opened in 1918 – and has an old world feel, and a mean red-sauce. http://www.guarinoscleveland.com/

– Little Italy isn’t far from Case Western, which we visited briefly to see the Frank Gehry building on campus. (also worth a drive by.)

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Art along the Iowa interstates

Inspired by the fantastic new mural we stumbled upon inside a welcome center along Interstate 35 in northern Missouri last December, I started looking into efforts by other states to spruce up their highway pit stops with art. And lo and behold, I find out from several knowledgeable sources that the great state of Iowa – where I live – has one of the more impressive programs.

Which means an estimated 17 million people who stop at an Iowa rest areas each year may be in for a treat – if they stop at the right one. Thirteen rest areas or welcome centers – most along I-80 and I-35 – have been  redesigned as part of Iowa’s “art-in-transit” program to include site-specific, regionally-themed art projects during the past 10 years – the latest in 2009 and more to come. Iowa has even printed “rest area posters.” For more info see: (www.iowadot.gov/maintenance/restareaposters.html)

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Unplugged on the Oregon Coast

Oops.  For anyone who was enticed by the title of this post and found it empty, I apologize.  A friend called just as I was starting to blog and I inadvertently pressed the “Publish” key rather than the “Save draft” key.  As it turns out, my friend was calling for some advice on starting a blog. (Not sure I’m the best source on that…)

Anyway…we are heading to a quaint inn in Newport, Oregon next month that is unapologetically unplugged – no radios, tvs, or phones. (There is apparently one public phone in case of emergency). Instead there are books, conversation, and really good food. All of which sounds very appealing to me – except that I do need to blog (God forbid you all go without my daily post) and I also need to be on call should my two teenagers – who won’t be with us (one will be in Spain, the other in Arizona) – need to reach us. So we’ll see how this works. Or doesn’t work.

I have never been one of those people who had to be plugged-in during a trip. Sure I need to be accessible to editors I’m working with on various projects and I am by cell phone.  But part of vacationing for me has been about NOT having to check my email constantly and NOT having to drag all my word files. Alas, this seems to be changing – in part because of this blog and also because new technology (like my new Netbook, I hope) makes being plugged in while on the road easier and even cheaper. Again, we shall see.

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Filed under On the road, Oregon, TECHNOLOGY/GEAR, Uncategorized

Dreaming of: Astoria

I’m starting to think we could easily spend a lot more than three days on the Oregon Coast when we’re there next month. A friend who grew up in Washington State and summered with her family in Oregon, says we must add the old coastal town of Astoria to our list of must-sees. It’s named after John Jacob Astor, I’m told, and from a recent Travel and Leisure story, I gather it’s the oldest American settlement west of the Rockies – it will be 200 years old next year – with lots of Victorian buildings and an old trolley along the riverfront.

My friend also mentioned a possible tour of a tuna cannery – not sure if  that’s still available. (Or if I really want to see how tuna – which I eat often, mercury be damned, is canned. Surely it can’t be as bad as watching sausage – or laws – be made.) I did just learn that my favorite tuna – Bumble Bee – was first produced in Astoria in 1875 but closed  its headquarters in 1981. Who knew?

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Kooky Kansas: pt. 5 Lucas


One attraction I’ve longed to see during several trips to Lucas – but haven’t yet caught up with – is a traveling museum  featuring  “The World’s Largest Collection of the World’s Smallest Versions of the World’s Largest Things.”

I’ll give you a moment to absorb that properly.

It’s a clever idea – by an artist and free spirit named Erika Nelson who moved to Lucas, next to the Garden of Eden. She drives her museum (inside a van)  to kitschy roadside attractions, often in little towns  that overcompensate for their littleness by producing a LARGE version of something or other that, with hope, puts the town on the map. Then she makes small versions of  these large things and exhibits them in her  van, err museum.

Nelson has also compiled a state-by-state list of the world’s largest things and I’m pleased to report that I’ve seen several including the World’s Largest Swedish Coffeepot and Cup in the small Iowa town of Stanton (which doubles as a water tower); the World’s Largest Ball of Twine in Cawker City, Ks. (although this claim is disputed by Minnesota twine-ballers)  and the World’s Largest Tire near the Detroit airport (a highlight of my Michigan youth).  There is a larger point – that these quirky things make these towns and cities distinctive and, as such, should be celebrated. (Nelson is into “combating genericana” i.e. all the generic fast food restaurants and chain stores you see in one town after another that makes them all seem the same.) Check out the list at – www.worldslargestthings.com/wllist.htm

One final (as if) note about Lucas: this is the only place where I eagerly look forward to eating baloney – in this case homemade Czech bologna made at Brant’s Meat Market, an 85-year-old store on Lucas’  tiny main drag. The beef jerky is good too!

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Kooky Kansas: pt.4 Garden of Eden

I never like making errors but maybe it’s a good thing I was tired last night when blogging (that’s my excuse) and made two errors in my post about the Garden of Eden BECAUSE I got an email today from the great-grandson of S.P. Dinsmoor (yes it’s S.P. – for Samuel Perry, not E.P. as I mistyped yesterday) politely setting me straight. Which I appreciate.  And it’s interesting to hear from a vigilant member of the Dinsmoor clan.  The great-grandson also noted, rightly, that technically S.P. is entombed, not buried, in the mausoleum. Again, I stand corrected.

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