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Trying to keep my flavor fresh
Mar. 21st, 2004 08:28 pmWe're back, from a trip to what turned out to be Mt. St. Helens and Portland. A good time was had by all, or at least by me; all I need is air in the spare, my friends. I had the easy job, as the navigator. I can't drive Jeff's car, which is a stick that I'm afraid to learn in Seattle with all of the hills. Driving my car isn't much of an option since it's likely to explode at any moment. Man, do I love me some road trips, though.
I'm probably a pretty irritating road trip companion because I read signs aloud. Exit signs, billboards, whatever. I read them all.
So, Mt. St. Helens. Volcanoes have always been a pretty abstract thing for most of us East coasters; I didn't realized that Mt. Rainier was a volcano until a few weeks ago. So actually looking at Mt. St. Helens, which looks pretty innocent but still has a big hole in the top of it, was pretty neat. It was a beautiful day, and I still find it terribly difficult to understand just what it was like. (The sun was shining on Jeff's birthday...go figure.) But the winds! They practically took my breath away.
Sorry though, kids...I didn't bring back souvenirs.
Then we moseyed down to Portland, which adds -another- state to my state map. After a bit of wandering we ended up at a somewhat rundown motel called The Crown, which entertained me mostly highly. Jeff's birthday dinner was at a goofy diner and, after a quick trip back to the motel to finalize our game plan, we headed off to the movies. (Eternal Sunshine, natch.) This is when our Harrowing, Near Death Experience happened, which was actually not that dramatic but was disturbing enough. It caused me to develop an instant and, I imagine, lifelong hatred for Portland's interstate of a caliber which before was reserved for Kansas City's and Nashville's interstates. The movie was fabulous, so we headed back to the motel to get some, er, rest.
This morning (are you all tired of this yet?) we wandered for an unreasonable amount of time trying to find breakfast and then went to Powells. I've since concluded that Powells is the source of all evil because it has so many things that I want and can't have. We went down to the river to take some pictures and sort of ended up at a kind of street fair thingie. (Ok, ok, I smelled elephant ears.) We were standing, taking pictures and getting in each other's way, when we heard a loud crunch from right behind us. It seemed, from what I could tell, that a blue motorcycle had been parked somewhere near the middle of the road and had been run into by a green station wagon. A man in a balloon hat was directing the crowd and looking for the owner, but I'm not certain how the whole thing resolved itself because, uh, I wanted an elephant ear. And I got one, and Jeff got some falafel, and we listened to a steel drum band from Seattle.
And then we got in the car and came home, and here I am.
I'm probably a pretty irritating road trip companion because I read signs aloud. Exit signs, billboards, whatever. I read them all.
So, Mt. St. Helens. Volcanoes have always been a pretty abstract thing for most of us East coasters; I didn't realized that Mt. Rainier was a volcano until a few weeks ago. So actually looking at Mt. St. Helens, which looks pretty innocent but still has a big hole in the top of it, was pretty neat. It was a beautiful day, and I still find it terribly difficult to understand just what it was like. (The sun was shining on Jeff's birthday...go figure.) But the winds! They practically took my breath away.
Sorry though, kids...I didn't bring back souvenirs.
Then we moseyed down to Portland, which adds -another- state to my state map. After a bit of wandering we ended up at a somewhat rundown motel called The Crown, which entertained me mostly highly. Jeff's birthday dinner was at a goofy diner and, after a quick trip back to the motel to finalize our game plan, we headed off to the movies. (Eternal Sunshine, natch.) This is when our Harrowing, Near Death Experience happened, which was actually not that dramatic but was disturbing enough. It caused me to develop an instant and, I imagine, lifelong hatred for Portland's interstate of a caliber which before was reserved for Kansas City's and Nashville's interstates. The movie was fabulous, so we headed back to the motel to get some, er, rest.
This morning (are you all tired of this yet?) we wandered for an unreasonable amount of time trying to find breakfast and then went to Powells. I've since concluded that Powells is the source of all evil because it has so many things that I want and can't have. We went down to the river to take some pictures and sort of ended up at a kind of street fair thingie. (Ok, ok, I smelled elephant ears.) We were standing, taking pictures and getting in each other's way, when we heard a loud crunch from right behind us. It seemed, from what I could tell, that a blue motorcycle had been parked somewhere near the middle of the road and had been run into by a green station wagon. A man in a balloon hat was directing the crowd and looking for the owner, but I'm not certain how the whole thing resolved itself because, uh, I wanted an elephant ear. And I got one, and Jeff got some falafel, and we listened to a steel drum band from Seattle.
And then we got in the car and came home, and here I am.
