Day 4: Ashland - Eugene - Portland

The next morning we had a delectable 3-course breakfast at the B&B, and then gathered our things and headed on our way.

First, a stop at the Ashland Farmer's market. Hot hot hot! We stopped at the tent of a guy selling carnivorous, tropical plants. They had one that curled up the moment you touched it. I wanted one. But I thought it might die in the car on the way home. I haven't had good luck with flora lately. I don' t know why.

Hot!

Hot!

Did I mention it was hot?

Hot!

About 11 a.m. it was well into the 90s. (Ha, I almost wrote '90s. It was well into the era of Hammer Pants when we left town...)

We stopped at Paschal Winery in Talent, about 15 minutes out of town. Tasted their wines. Again, some really good stuff. Seems like there are a lot down there. But we just didn't have the time, money, or wherewithall (what is wherewithall, anyway?). I would like to go back to southern Oregon and do an Ashland play/southern Oregon wines long weekend at some point. Anyone game?

Me outside winery:

Next, it was up to Grants Pass, to check out Rogue Creamery and Lillebelle chocolates. Yes, our trips do tend to revolve around food. Deal.

I was kind of disappointed by Rogue. Not their cheeses (oh to have brought any of it home!). But the place itself. I had thought it would be more like a factory, like Tillamook. I also thought there would be more in Grants Pass. Lots of nothingness, again.

Then it was time to hit the road again and stop by the Oregon Vortex.

I've included the link above because I'm too lazy to explain it fully. Basically it's a place in southern Oregon that's built on a hill and so everything looks different in an optical illusion sort of way. And this is supposed to be all Ripley's Believe it Or Not/That's Incredible/X-Files/Woo-Freakin'-Woo.

The whole thing annoyed me. Is there a term for beyond bored? Stupefied? It was about 110 degrees, you're standing in a house that's leaning, feeling claustrophobic, and dude! the reason everything looks different? you're standing on a hill! Can I get our $ back now?

Okay, at least mine?

The guide was a good guy, and used all of us in various demos of how this place doesn't conform to any physical properties (things rolling uphill and such). But you can pretty much tell how much I want to be back in my car's a/c right about after my demo:

Justin, on the other hand, bought a t-shirt.

Back in the car, heading home. Starts to look like the Oregon most know:

No more photos after this one. We stopped in Eugene for dinner at Cafe Yumm (the same one that I ate at before the Eugene half, so it had good energy. I love Cafe Yumm). I took the wheel, and we headed home, got home about 7 p.m. and immediately turned on the a/c...but I think it got cool around 2 a.m.

Am I glad we did the trip? Hell's yes. Did it take time away from home projects and other work to do Yeah, it did. But when else were we gonna go? August is full, September's getting there.

We may travel again sometime in January, if I have anything to say about it.

Maybe next time I'll even take my computer. And can actually devise interesting posts along the way.

This one is showing its age.

Day 3: Ashland

So as a writer (though you probably can't tell from this blog), I should have gotten to Ashland sooner than this. And I also should have seen a play there, which we didn't. (The timing was off, I am regretful but will likely return. So what if it's partly for the wineries? More on that later.)




It was insanely hot.


We were hungry.



It was lunchtime.


We couldn't check into our B&B until 4 p.m., so we had to get some lunch and tool around. We first went to one place, and you know how you're fine, fine, not hungry, okay, but then suddenly and without warning it tips you over into "I'm going to eat my own face?" It doesn't matter that it's kind of not possible. Hunger makes you do desperate, desperate things. That happened in this one place we went into (I can't remember the name, and wouldn't care to share it even if I did remember). We got seated. And 10 minutes went by. 15. No one came by. Place was packed. It was 1:45 by now and I was ready to eat many faces.


You don't want to be with me when I'm like this. The emergency energy bar in the purse was long gone, demolished somewhere around Crane.

We left and went next door, where there was a salad bar! For immediate gratification. I don't think I've ever been so happy to see a salad bar. And it was a good one, too.


Justin is not as well-versed as I am in "how to make a light, cheap salad." Yes, mine was bigger. But his was more expensive. Everyone (but him, I guess) knows that you don't put in the whole hardboiled eggs to salad bar salads! That's like $2 each! Hee hee. This salad is sold by weight, not volume. Just like cereal, my friends.


After the hunger shakes mellowed, we wandered around Lithia Park.


Did I mention it was hot?
I think I am panting like a dog here. It was 104, I think?


We found a shady spot and lay on the grass, looking up, listening to all the hippies (wow, there are so.many.hippies) play guitar, watching leaves fall, maybe getting a contact high. Occasionally I'd snark to Justin "People are at work now."

Realizing we were in a 2-hour parking spot, and not knowing how rigidly they ticket in Ashland during a hot summer Monday, we drove off to check out Weisingers winery. It's real close to downtown Ashland, which was a plus: We didn't want to go far. We just needed to kill some time (die, time, die!) and so off we went.


Which looks like this:

Justin outside tasting room:


The night before, in Lakeview, we had watched an OPB special on honeybees. Normally I get completely freaked out by anything bee, but this was really interesting and gave me a better understanding of the insects that terrify me so. If there are reasons that things happen, then maybe the stay in the scary hotel was designed to make me entirely un-freaked out and vaguely fascinated by what was in this winery:


Men in ugly hats!

Kidding.

Kind of.

That is a hive! Of honeybees! They come in from the outside, through this tube!



The owner was there, giving tastings, and he helped us spot the queen and talked a bunch about bees and colony collapse disorder (what we'd seen the show about--why bees are disappearing--not just dying, but vanishing--and no one knows why).

Despite that--or because of that--their wines were really quite good. And we had a great time talking to the owner; we covered everything from How We Met to Yes, Thank YOu For Agreeing, It's Totally Okay Not To Have Kids If You Don't Want Them.

We bought three bottles.

Now it was finally time to check into our hotel, the Morical House. Liked it a lot. Very comfy, non-foofy. B&Bs scare me, for their foofiness. This was non-foofy. I recommend. We napped for a bit (see a pattern here?) and while Justin continued to nap, I wandered back into the main house to get some tea to wake me up a bit.

Where I ran into...my old roommate--and her boyfriend-- from when I first moved here! I was totally sleepy still and spaced it at first but it was crazy weird! Not only is Portland a small town, but despite the vastness that we'd experienced on this trip, Oregon is a small place.

At least for those who have taste. And Elizabeth has very good taste.

Later that evening, Justin and I went back into town for dinner. We couldn't decide where to go. We had a drink at the bar in the Ashland Spring hotel, and then wandered around and decided to go to...damn, I can't remember the name, but I loved it. Sesame? Sesame's? Something like that. It is new, and Asian-fusioney, and right by Lithia Park. Good food, great portions, and I was freaking starving. Thumbs up.

Got back to the B&B, crashed out and then the next day it was time to make our way northward.

Day 3: Lakeview - Ashland

Here is where I start typing with the map on my lap.

Was more than happy to get out of Lakeview. On we went (I drove for a few hours), taking 140 through the Fremont National Forest, and stopping in Bly to use the bathroom and checking out antique stores...which were also closed.

Probably the most depressing photo I've ever taken:

So lots of driving through the Fremont National Forest. Beautiful, lush, high forest. Smelled more like tinder than rich wetness. Seriously, I now totally get the whole fire danger thing. The air is just high, tight, and tense but airy and clear, just waiting for something to ignite.

I even kept my inflammatory foods, comments, and opinions to myself. I wonder if someone gets fired in the area if the words spontaneously combust. Okay, I'll stop.

Some pics (I think we pulled over to take this one):

This shot epitomizes the drive to Ashland. Very curvy roads. There were few straightaways. If I hadn't been driving, or if anyone but Justin had, I'm pretty sure I would have gotten carsick. Again, something that's only happened to me in the past few years. Oh, hello, aging! Back so soon?

One shot we definitely stopped to take (a lot of the dust had blown off Nellie by this point, but you not only could have written "wash me" on her, you probably could have written the Gettysburg Address on her. Or something.

So I drove for a few hours, and then Justin took over. Probably a good thing, because at one point I was like, wait, we're going to have to descend sometime, right? Ashland isn't as high up as Lakeview, so when is the great descent?

Oh, look. Here! A 7% grade this time. Pish-Posh.

More descent. This is when it started to remind me of the times I've been to the San Francisco area. Golden hills, more seasonally dry, where you know that there's a verdant time of the year. Even though it was just as dry and hot and sunny, you knew it wasn't always the case. More greens. gold and brown; less gray and red. Is it obvious I love love love landscape changes? I'm that person on the plane, forehead against the window. It's like I'm flying for the first time, every time.

Didn't take many more photos on this drive. It was a lot of the above, really. Then we dipped south to Klamath Falls--or really, outside Klamath Falls, fueled up, some some strip mall "civilization" (I ooze irony) and then it was over and up to Ashland. Hot hot hot!

I'll post this and do Day 3 Ashland in another post.

Day 2: Lakeview

So we chilled for a little while. Actually, Justin took a nap and I went outside (I'm sorry but I was not going to stay on the premises more than I had to) to get caught up on my magazines. yes, it was hot. But I'd rather be outside in the hot than inside with the old.

A little time later we decided to tool around and see what Lakeview has to offer. Answer: Absolutely fucking nothing.

An antique store near the border. Which was closed.

See, the border to California is pretty close by.

What's vageuly schizo is that you are standing next to the "Welcome to California" sign, but the sign next to it is pointing the way to Goose Lake, an Oregon State Park:

Goose Lake? More like marshy bog-type thing, where lots of cows and geese hang out and talk to each other:

As well as cranky husbands:

As for dinner options, we went to the Safeway in Lakeview (you don't want a picture) to get a couple other things, as the motel had a kitchenette.

And that's the end of the Lakeview story.

Next: Enroute to Astoria

Day 2: Fields - Lakeview

This is Fields:

Actually, that's Justin.

And that's Fields Station.

And Fields Station is, essentially, Fields.

It's got to be the only food, fuel, restroom (actually a port-o-pot) for 90 or so miles? You can fuel up your car--and your plane. Apparently planes land there. For fuel. And probably for milkshakes. That would be good. If you had the plane and lived at the base of the Steens, you wouldn't even need to get in the plane for a frozen confection. You could give people rides. I digress and stuff.

Because the milkshakes are that good. After all, they've sold in the thousands (I was bummed that they didn't move the # on the sign when we were there. shouldn't they once you order one? do they do it at the end of the day? I should have asked, but the proprietress kind of scared me, in a not bad way, but just like I shouldn't ask about it.) Anyway, do signs like this not slay you? They slay me. Positively slayed, I tell you!

You walk in and the little store and restaurant are cooled by a huge swamp cooler. Apparently they are very efficient in this kind of heat. I only know from swamp coolers from a friend of mine who is an ex-Marine who used to live out near Joshua Tree in CA. Hers, she said, smelled like cat pee. Thankfully, this one didn't. That's all I know about swamp coolers. I don't know how they work or even why they are called swamp coolers. That they are good in the desert and can smell like cat pee.

Moving on, we ordered lunch. Justin got a burger and I got eggs and hashbrowns. We split a caramel milkshake, which I was glad for because the portions are for if you have a tank as big as a Cessna's. I'm not complaining though.

See below? That yellow stack that looks like it's under some sort of hydroponic light? That was my island of hashbrowns. There must have been 2 lbs. of them there. All for me. And they were so well-done: all crispy and bonded together and cheesy and eggs...oh, so good.

But yeah we could have probably split it.

More of the joint. I am in love with places like this. Why? I just am.

And very full and happy, we left and headed even further south.

To continue to get to Lakeview, Oregon, our stopping point for the night, we had to cross into Nevada.

The state line between Oregon and Nevada (at least on route 292) is a cow grate.

I'm not kidding.

I am not armless. I think I'm just extremely uncomfortable. Like: "aaah! we're in Nevada! my parents live here! they might sense I am in the state! let's get in and out as quick as possible!"

But that's southern Nevada. Vegas. Doesn't count.

So let's discuss Northern Nevada. An even stranger landscape, more otherworldly. Nothingness. Desolate. I love it. It fits.

Maybe 60 miles or so and we were back in Oregon. And Justin is doing the hands-behind-back-I'm-really-uncomfortable pose. I think he was a bit put out at having to stop for all the state line signs. But I love that shit. Sorry. And I was driving this portion. (We'll get to that in a moment.)
On the other hand, I'm practically molesting the sign, I'm so happy to be back in Oregon!



So we continued on. You know how I say Justin did 90% of the driving, even though we took my car? Yeah. He did. he wanted to drive the first day. Fine. Then I did a bit of the second day, down around Crane, and then stopped to eat something. Then he did. Then I took over. And so on.

But here's the deal: he's driven a hell of a lot more than I have. And so when we passed a sign that said 8% downgrade (ha ha , that sounds like dating, now that I type that) and with a precipice and no rail on the other side, I had a panic attack. No way was I doing that! Girlie girl! I need a man to step in! Fuck. I need more driving confidence.

It's like this: When I talk to people I can hear what they're not saying. And when I drive, I can see what shouldn't happen. So it's why I don't as much as I should. Hi, therapy!

Anyway, right around the hang gliding jumping-off point is where I gave up captaining Nellie for a bit:
This is also why I'm glad I did.

Livestock! In the road! I would have pulled around a bend and hit them like I did a deer in 1992! Cows! Momma and Baby! They hung out for a little bit and trotted away. Cows! Cuteness! Moo.

Finally, after what had been a long day of driving, we pulled into Lakeview, another of the one-street towns. I'm pretty sure we were the only people in this hotel. This was one of the creepiest stays I'd ever experienced. It wasn't unclean, but it was just cree-to-the-pee!

First off, you walk in and the place smells like old ladies. Not like a nursing home, but...old ladies. It had that high, weird perfumey potporri smell and ambiance of a too-old regular candy hiding in a dish full of dusty glass confections. And this was only in the entryway! The even weirder thing was that I saw no evidence of an air freshener or anything of the sort. It was like a ghost scent. Justin smelled it too.

They put us in the handicapped room.

They had printed on paper signs on everything. "Make sure you close the door!" to an outside door. "Keep voices down in the hallway!" and "Guests only!" in the exercise room, the description of which I will not creep you out with.

It was seriously like going to the Scary Aunt's house where you can't do anything, eat anything, bounce on the bed, sit on the cushions, and the place smells of staleness, and you feel oppressive and things are floral and weird, etc. You get it. I don't get this place. I wonder if it was once an old age home or something?

You know what it was like? Some Japanese fetish love hotel that was like supposed to be scary grandma's house! Maybe some people like that. I just wanted to get the fuck out of there.

Besides, I thought old people were supposed to all, correct your grammar and stuff. I know I'll be one of those old people. Hell, I'm one of them already. To wit:

If you don't see the problem here, I'm not sure we can be friends.

Day 2: Burns - Steens - Alvord

So when we left Burns, we headed toward the Steens mountains and Alvord desert. We were basically following this route.

Notice how long it says it takes? Notice the number of miles? Seems kind of off, huh?

We'll get to that.

A little bit out of Burns, take route 78 and it looks like this (I say route 78 because there's a route 78 in New Jersey that I used to take to get to Justin's house and it looks nothing like this):

I think that's Crane, Oregon.

We didn't see any cranes.

Thn we passed New Princeton. You tell me if this resembles what I will call Old Princeton, which is in New Jersey and where many horrible things from my childhood happened to make me the stable individual we know today.

I'll take New Princeton, thankyouverymuch.

Yeah. Again: New Princeton kicks Old Princeton's ass.

There were many times on this trip where one of us would say to the other something to the tune of, "Wow. Landscape." In fact, the conversations would usually go something like this:

"This is Oregon?"

"This is the U.S.?"

"This is earth?"

It was like that. You could have totally set a science fiction movie in some of this landscape (oh, please don't. leave it alone. it's amazing.) It was this weird, alterna-planetary look. Just the way the land shifted, undulated, the vastness...I am not doing it justice, but a lot of the time Justin and I didn't talk. Not like we were angry, but because we were...watching.

When the landcape is the entertainment, you know it's a good place.

Also of note: The roads.

We were surprised (and pleased) by the quality of the roads. Smooth pavement, no potholes, well-maintained. Wow, we said to each other, this is where our tax funds go instead of repairing the SE Division potholes. (Of note: I think they are doing that now, though not because of my blog.)

And then we got to the Steens.

And the gravel.

The 50 miles of gravel.

In case you were wondering why the drive is said to take 5-7 hours, here is your reason.

Even Nellie was like, dude, sorry, but I got nothin':

This is the Nav screen. Usually it shows something.

But we weren't lost, we were just slowed down. It was all very zen. And very, very dusty. Poor Nellie. She was so dirty. Poor Nellie.

This is Mann Lake, with the Steens in the background. It was kind of a mud lake. Mud Man lake? Lake Mann mud? Lake Made Mudd?:

Occasionally we'd pass an irrigated landscape/ranch-type place. Would you consider living out here? I might if I had a plane and could fly it. Like, when I wanted fro yo.


And then...on the left, we approached the Alvord desert. It was frigging bright! Much more so than it showed in this photo.

This shows you what we were driving on. For 50 miles:

I don't know how we missed the turnoff for the hot springs, but I'm not so sure that we would have gone anyway -- 140 degrees on your bum plus 98 degrees on your head? Hmm, I don't know. I'm becoming increasingly heat-intolerant. Oh, hi aging!

Here we are taking a breather to check it all out, plus get some snacks out of the trunk to hold us over until Fields.

And then it was onto Fields, for lunch.