San Juan Island for Christy's birthday

As always, I'm a "little" tardy writing about my life. So, a little over a month ago, on July 3rd ...

Gregg and I hopped in the car to drive up to Seattle. What on earth were we thinking, driving to Seattle on the 4th of July weekend! Traffic sucked! Bad, messy, horrible traffic. But Christy's birthday on the 5th was a persuasive reason to put up with it. And it was worth all of the traffic headaches to be able to enjoy an adventure with her on her birthday.

We started by meeting up with Christy and Hathan in Bellevue. We loaded everybody in our car and made our way to Mukilteo to catch the ferry to Whidbey Island. Carol & Bill have a new place now, a little further south on the island ... as I hear it, they're "livin’ in the free-land" now :)

Since we got there the evening of the 3rd we had a full day on the 4th to just hang out on the island with the parents, go for a walk, lounge on the deck, drink, watch fireworks ... an AWESOME way to start a vacation.

We got up early on the 5th to head up to Anacortes, and took the ferry from there to San Juan Island. Not surprisingly, random misadventures and poor timing left us running for the ferry. Again. This is beginning to feel really familiar. No matter how well we plan to arrive on time, we seem to be doomed to be the poor saps running for the ferry.

When we got to the island we grabbed a bit of breakfast, and then wandered around looking for the moped rental place. More misadventures. But we finally made our way to the mopeds!

We got quick lessons on riding a moped, a brief overview of the driving tour of the island, and we were sent on our way. These women have their routine perfected, right down to the drawing of the identical whale that they draw on each of the maps. It took less time to get through this process than it had for us to find their shop in the first place, and it's located about two blocks from the Ferry!

I was under the impression that since San Juan Island was so small, we'd burn through all the tourist opportunities quickly and end up with time to kill at the end of the day. I was surprised at how much there was to see. It would be easy to spend a couple of days there. More if you added a sea kayaking adventure.



We stopped at the Pelindaba Lavender Farm first. There were some really cool sculptures in the middle of the lavender. My favorite was a giant Pi! I love random math. And I've never seen as wide a variety of lavender products as they had in their gift shop. I was pretty curious about the lavender ice cream cookie sandwiches, but wasn't hungry at the time, and ice cream doesn't travel well. So I'm still curious.

The next stop was the Lime Kiln Point State Park. We watched the sea kayakers and the sea lions, and hiked out to the lighthouse. And for a while we lost curious Christy.

Having never operated a moped I at first assumed they all ran as badly as mine. They are under 50 cc, after all, so I wasn't expecting much. But judging by how difficult it was for me to keep up with the rest of the crew I was getting increasingly suspicious that I had a lemon. So my amazing guy swapped machines with me as we left the park. We pretty quickly proved that it was in fact the bike, so Gregg heroically decided to put up with my finicky steed for the rest of the day.

We went a little further down the road to the Alpaca Farm, and stopped for a picnic. There were some new alpaca babies in one of the enclosures ... completely adorable.

While we watching them the most interesting thing happened. All of a sudden all of the Alpacas started clumping together into a mob, and rushing toward the fence. We turned around and noticed that the alpacas in the other two enclosures behind us were doing exactly the same thing. All the alpacas in each of the fenced in areas was clumped together, and rushing the fence nearest the parking lot. They didn't make any noise, but they acted like they were all on the same page about something.

Apparently someone had brought a dog on the premises. We were told that the alpaca's are very frightened of dogs, and from what we saw they seem to react in an aggressive, violent, "we're gonna kill you to protect ourselves" kind of way.

There wasn't enough time left in the day for us to visit Roche Harbor, but we did want to visit the sculpture park just outside of town. We were expecting something pretty small, and were pretty surprised when we saw how big it is. I'm not sure how much of it is populated with the sculptures but apparently it's a 19-acre park. The walking tour of the sculpture garden probably covered a couple of acres, and we could have spent quite a bit of time there if we'd had any time left.

But it was starting to get late and we needed to get the mopeds back. We made a quick stop to on the way back to see Mona, the Camel. Apparently she's often near enough that you can feed her; a tourist tradition I'm sure she loves. But when we got there she was fenced in away from the road. We'd forgotten to get anything she could eat, but it would have been kind of cool to pet her.

This is the second trip I've made to San Juan Island. And again, the ferry ride from Friday Harbor to Anacortes was awesome! Somehow it's better on the return trip than it is on the way out; it's a relaxing 45 minute cruise after a long day ... made more relaxing, because we didn't have to start the return trip by running for the ferry!

I finished the TOE!!!

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Warning for the boys ... there's a tiny bit of girl talk ahead.
But if I can live it, I'm confident you'll live through reading it :)
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I slept a little better than I had Friday night, but I still tossed and turned all night. Mostly nerves I'm sure, but I wasn't as rested as I was hoping to be on the morning of the race. My knee is aching, and I'm already getting cramps (mm hmmm ... perfect timing ... I couldn't have planned this better). All of this just makes me a little more nervous about tackling the challenge ahead.

But this is my one big goal for the year, and I'm ready to suck up the aches and tiredness and "kill it, kill it, kill it" as advised by my hero Heidi.

Gregg made us some very tasty whole grain french toast, with strawberries from mary's garden. Tasty, and a perfect breakfast for today's ride. We pack up the car, and drive out to Blodgett. And as I get out of the car I hit my head on the roof rack hard enough to give myself a lump on the head. Awesome. I'm so smooth. And apparently determined to add a concusion to the situation.

I pop some ibuprofen and sport legs before we unpack the car. We're early enough that there aren't many people there yet, but we see a few familiar faces and spend a little time socializing before I head off for an easy warm-up ride.

The TOE has a rolling start from the school. Similar to the Mudslinger, except that in the Mudslinger we stop to re-group at the bottom, and then get sent off according to our racing category. This time we're really racing from the beginning, so the pace is a bit quicker. But it's a 50 mile race, so nobody's sprinting either. Still some jokes and conversation along the way, which makes it feel more friendly and social than the shorter races.

But as soon as we hit the singletrack, I can't seem to pace myself. I'm looking at my Garmin, and I can see I'm working too hard. I just can't seem to make myself slow down! Melissa is right there with me, and we chat the whole way. The pace feels manageable for a 2 - 3 hour race, but I know even in the moment that I can't maintain this for the duration. And yet I just ... can't ... slow ... down. I do this for about an hour and a half before I'm finally able to get control over that adrenalin and start managing my efforts again. I manage to do pretty well for about the next three hours, and after that my legs were lead (like they each weighed 100 pounds!) and I don't think I could have done much to increase my heart rate if I'd wanted to.

I wreck a couple of times too in the first couple of hours. Nothing significant ... a new bruise where I fell into a tree going about a mile per hour, and another scrape and bruise where I toppled over at about two mph. And while it's fun to push myself when I'm riding recreationally, I decide I'd better start riding a bit more cautiously for the race.

So finally, about two hours into the race, I'm pacing myself to last for the duration. And I'm also trying to ride within my technical limits and avoid injury.

In the first half hour of the race my knee starts screaming. I'm getting shooting pains whenever the elevation takes a steep climb. I've figured out pretty early that will-power alone may not take me through to the finish, so I take the Rx provided by doc for the swelling knee. I take more ibuprofen at the mid-point too, and try to stay about as doped up as I can without causing myself to vomit. I still end up getting shooting pain in my knee on every climb (and there was a lot of climbing), and on the bumpier descents. And for about the last 15 - 20 miles I wasn't able to keep my left leg bent while supporting body weight. It kept shuddering and collapsing. I had to totally over-compensate by making my right leg do a lion's share of the work. Now a smarter person might have been convinced to give up ... "know when to say when", as they say. But I'm not a smarter person. This is the ONE THING I'm absolutely going to accomplish this year, and if I can move I'm going to accomplish this. So instead of being a smarter person, I'm being a goal oriented, focused, committed person. "It's a blessing ... and a curse".

The cramps also kick in within about the first half hour, and continue to pop up every hour or two throughout the race. It's aggravating, uncomfortable, a little painful ... but nothing compared to the knee pain, and surprisingly also nothing compared to my body's usual behavior. I'm halfway to being a believer in the crazy new diet I've undertaken to manage my "girl" issues. In past rides, this alone would have had me on the ground unable to move. So despite the little extra aches and tummy issues, I'm feeling pretty lucky! Seriously, you should see me on a bad day!

And this really was a great day. The weather couldn't have been better. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, the wild irises were in bloom all over the place, the forest smelled wonderfully "forest-ey", and there were beautiful meadow and mountain views all around. There were so many times I wished I could just snap my fingers and get a photo of what I was seeing. I wish I could share with you all just how amazing it was. And it had been dry for days, so the trail conditions were the best I've ridden out there. There was some fantastic new singletrack, and since I was riding near the back, all the new singletrack had been "established" by the first 145 or so riders before me. Some of it was brand new and pretty rough before they came through, so they really did me a huge favor.

The guys at the Peak Sports aid station did a great job of cheering me on. It felt really great to see some friendly faces out there cheering for me during the race. And after Gregg finished his race (at about 6 hours) and changed clothes, he got back on his bike and rode back to the aid station to cheer for me and take photos, at about mile 40 for me. What a guy, huh?! He also showed up later on the course, and then rode in with me to the finish. My biggest fan :)

By the end of this race I had been so exhausted for so long, and in pretty much constant pain in those last couple of hours, that i just about broke down crying a couple of times. Not the shedding tears kind of crying. More like the "I'm having a breakdown" hyperventilating crazy laughing/crying thing. First trying to talk to Gregg on the way to the finish (Oh no ... no pictures of this please), and then trying to respond to the woman pulling my number at the finish. I'm a girl, and I'm also old enough to not care so much what other people think, so I guess it's probably okay to admit that I just about lost it! And and I managed to mostly hold back the sobbing and hysterical laughing when there were people around, so I think I might have pulled off acting like a normal person ... and I don't believe there's any photographic evidence that I was being a freak.

I was one of the last riders to roll in to the finish line, and most of the rest of the riders were seated on the grass waiting for the awards to start ... and facing the finish line. So I got a bunch of cheers when I came in. I felt like a bit of a dork, but loved the comeraderie, and gave a big wave to the crowd.

Everyone was amazingly supportive. Gregg knows "everybody" (a very small exageration) in the local mountain biking community, and I've met and spoken with a number of them. So several guys came up to me to shake my hand, congratulate me, and talk for a few minutes. It felt awesome to hang in there, do my best, and finish! And even though I was really just doing it for myself, it felt really great that they recognized and respected the effort they knew I put in to get there.

I really enjoy the 50 mile race distance, and if there were more of them around I might specialize in that kind of race. There's a unique feeling of comeraderie. Racers have the time to talk to you for a minute or two, because most of them are in a position where they know they need to pace themselves for a long day. It's not like the little two hour races where it's every man for himself. For the most part, I prefer to ride for the love of it. And I don't see myself every really "being" a racer. But I do enjoy the mountain bike race scene too, and committing to racing is also committing to improving my fitness and technical skills. The Test of Endurance combines a little of both ... a long ride out in the woods, just (wo)man and machine, but with the adrenalin and motivation that helps you to push yourself a little harder and stretch your limits.

I LOVED IT! It's a great event, and if I can't race it, I'd love to at least help to put it on. I'd love to race the TOE every year. But next year is already setting up to be unlikely, as I'll be back to studying for an actuarial exam and unable to put in the training time necessary to prepare to race the distance. But I want to try to stay at least fit enough to volunteer to ride the sweep.

The French part of the working vacation (part 3)

Man, it's been AGES since I've been able to spend time with Delphine and Brett. And I hadn't even met Mason yet!

We had a little misadventure Friday night. The frazzled mom in Delphine took over, and she rushed out of the office to pick up Mason at day care ... forgetting me at the office. I ran to Union Station just in time to catch her bus. Whew! We met up with another friend of hers, and went to meet a bunch of French (and French-Canadian) women. She gets together with them once a month, I think, theoretically to speak French, but also I think to stay connected to these women with similar backgrounds and experiences. They were all incredibly nice, funny, generous ... and most of them were very French. Boy did I feel inadequate. The only second language I've ever tried to learn was German. Not that it would have helped in this situation, but after the maybe three years of lessons (twenty years ago), I don't even remember a word of German.

On Saturday we packed up Mason, and the four of us headed up to Boulder. We stopped for breakfast at The Original Pancake House. I'd never heard of it, but apparently it was founded in Portland! Who knew. We spent the afternoon cruising Pearl St, where I picked up a journal (which I'll never manage to fill) and some fabulous gourmet dot cookies (to ease my guilty conscience), and Delphine picked up some CDs to start replacing the collection that had gotten stolen from her car. It was a great, lazy afternoon. We rounded out the evening by taking the dog for a walk, eating take-out, and watching an episode of Psych (which I forced on them). I wish I had more time to spend with them. By the time I get around to visiting Denver again they'll be living in France. You may have already heard that our next planned travel will be to New Zealand ... but it looks like France (precise location TBD) and Manchester may follow.

The working part of the working vacation (part 2)

What a blur. I didn't take any pictures, or keep up with the blog ... but here are the highlights:

• Happy hour on Tuesday with Paul, Chris, and Ryan, at Dazzle. Anectdote: Gregg and I came here with the Turin crew one night for Martini-making lessong. Totally cool place.
• Tuesday's happy hour was followed by dinner at Le Central ... which became dinner around the corner at Little India when we realized Le Central was closed for the evening (remodeling or something). It's all good. They were both old favorites.
• Wednesday's drive through the old NW neighborhoods. Not much has changed there. Dinner at Trattoria Stella, which still has the best bread pudding ever!
• Lunches with Deb at Palomino; Susan, Heather, and Delphine at BDs Mongolian Grill; Coffee breaks with Ryan and Paul at Starbucks; Coffee with Marlise at Starbucks; and many other happy moments reconnecting with friends and prior co-workers

Aside from the walk to and from Ryan's (gorgeous and well-located) condo to the office downtown, I didn't get any exercise! Yikes. But it was fantastic being able to see old friends again. I'll have to get out there again for a working holiday ... and maybe before another three years have gone by!

Wait ... stop the train ... let me off!!!

What a weird week it's been.

Gregg and I drove up to Portland Monday night to see Rasputina in concert at the Hawthorne. We've seen Rasputina a few times. Love them. Melora comes across as kind of cranky and eccentric ... much like one of our favorite authors, David Sedaris. Apparently we're a big fan of the cranky eccentrics. Anyway, Rasputina played several of their new tunes. Loved them all. Gregg thought they were selling out a bit ... one of their songs was less discordant, more of a "mainstream pop" sound, than is customary in their music. I still thought they kept close enough to their unique style and sound, and loved it all. And they played several old favorites. The Hawthorne was a bit smaller than we'd expected, and had absolutely no ventilation. A girl could pass out in that much heat and humidity.

We had a nice walk back to our friends' home, which we were house sitting. And the next morning realized we'd lost their house key!!! And I actually mean Gregg lost their house key!!! Freakin' stunning! Gregg is my finder of all things lost ... he doesn't lose things, he finds them.

I had a pretty good couple of days working in Portland. Stopped at Pix Patisserie on my way to the Portland office Wednesday, to pick up some goodies to bring home to Gregg after work. I was introduced to the place once, and have absolutely fallen in love with it! Since I don't have regular access it's going to become an obsession I can't indulge in; I'm going to start having dreams of their desserts. Can't help myself.

I mistakenly thought I'd be able to walk from the Portland office to the train station, to catch my train back home. Started walking, and realized that not only did I not have a clear picture of the distance, I couldn't find a taxi?! I don't know where the downtown Portland hotels are. There are always taxis in front of the hotels, and I figured I'd come across one at some point. No luck. I ended up ducking into a Starbucks along the way and asking for the number for a taxi. Got to the train station in the nick of time! And the train was delayed. Only about 15 minutes, but with the wait for the taxi and the 15 minute delay, I actually could have walked the distance. Ah well.

So then ... this is where the week got even weirder ... I got into the train. Stashed my many bags in and around my seat. Set up my computer, and got some work done. Grabbed a mini bottle of mediocre Chardonnay and some equally mediocre Madelines, and read the Willamette Weekly for the rest of the ride home.

I love taking the train. For $15 one way it's barely more than gas, and less than gas + parking. A lot of people complain about delays, but in my experience I've only once been more than 15 or 20 minutes late. I don't even consider that late for public transportation, and when I take the train I plan for the lateness. In fact, as a rule I never take the train when my arrival is time-sensitive ... when I need to make a travel connection or a close meeting time. The way I see it, if I plan it properly, it's less stressful and much more productive than driving. I gain an hour and a half of usable time since I can actually work, play, or relax on the train.

So after working and relaxing, we approached Albany. I got all of my bags in order, ready to grab the moment the train stopped. Train stopped. I grabbed bags and stood up ... looked to either end of the car to see where the door was going to open (they only open certain doors at the stops). Saw the door open at the far end of one of the attached cars, and immediately headed toward the door. As I approached the door, it started closing!!! I stuck my hand against the door hoping to trigger it open (like an elevator). Doesn't work like that! So I started yelling at the conductor who was on the other side of the door ... and then banging on the window of the door. "Hey ... I'd like to get out here ... hello!" No gold. The only "official" I could get to immediately was the cafeteria woman ... and as I was talking to her the train started to leave the station! I'm sure if I'd been more composed I'd have seen an "emergency stop" button or cord or something. Never actually looked for one. And at this point I was beginning to wrap my head around the fact that I was headed for Eugene, and was going to need to call Gregg to let him know where to pick me up. Somebody more together than me must have noticed my predicament, because the train stopped shortly after leaving the station. The conductor said that he couldn't back up the train (okay, hadn't even considered that he could), so did I want to get out here and walk the track back to the Albany station, or go ahead on to Eugene. I'll walk, thanks!

Wow. What a trip. So I walked the 100 feet or so back to the station parking lot. Weird!!! I think it was a combination of me sitting in the "wrong" car (I wanted to use the tables to set up my laptop), and the fact that the conductor who'd checked my ticket and knew I should be departing in Albany was a new employee in training, and she wasn't the one who opened/closed the door at the station. That's never happened to me before, or to anybody I've spoken with who's traveled by train. Still, next time I'll be a little more proactive about avoiding this sort of FU.

And the kicker ... and what really bugs me still ... is that I forgot those damned desserts under my chair!!! Walking along the railroad tracks carrying all my bags ... actually kind of a laughable, "oh yeah, this is my life!" sort of thing. Losing the desserts ... that's just so typically me, and so entirely disappointing!

4th of July ~ Rafting the McKenzie

I can't remember how long it's been since I was on a rafting trip. I remember a trip with an OSU group, also on the McKenzie, 7 or 8 years ago?! I love rafting, but apparently not enough to pay the price and drive the distance. And Gregg just isn't generally into sports that involve getting wet.

But you never know when or how opportunity will strike. We'd been having a hot spell here. A few days of hot weather ... nothing to get very worked up about. So when I called a new mountain biking friend to invite her on a mountain bike ride ... and she invited us to join her on a rafting trip with a bunch of cyclists instead ... we jumped at the opportunity. I'm so glad! As it turns out, I was getting sick. And rafting isn't nearly as much work as mountain biking. So instead of suffering in the heat for a few hours, we spent half the day floating down the river. And even with the relatively small fitness requirement, by the end of the day I was WIPED OUT! I actually fell asleep during our neighbors' fireworks displays, and slept through all of it with the bedroom windows open! A damned miracle.

So rafting was a perfect activity for the day ... and an excellent chance for all of us cyclists to do something different!

Here's some photographic evidence ... http://michelleportera.blogspot.com/index.html#1015637143937649641

Now ... off to get changed and meet the ladies for our Thursday night MTB ride!

Geez ... is it that late already?

I'm a bad, bad girl. Getting out of touch the way I do. I never think I'm doing anything notable enough to write about, but before you know it I've done a ton of stuff, and haven't bothered to tell anybody about it.

That last post had such a great title, and yet no actual information about the Sea Kayaking adventure. Since we actually did get our butts into boats, and paddle our little hearts out, it's worth a comment or photo ...

Heather and I toured around Seattle a bit, and then took bus and ferry to Whidbey Island to stay with the Wiseman's. Carol and Bill are always excellent hosts, and with Christy and Hathan there too we had great company all the way around. It was a celebration of new and old friends, and Christy's birthday!

Christy and Hathan also came with us for Sea Kayaking in the San Juans. What an absolutely gorgeous place. I'd never been to the San Juans before, and I'd never been Sea Kayaking. We did spot some whales, but they were quite a way out in the water. We saw a lot of other wildlife though, and the guide was fantastic. We were all totally wiped out at the end of the day, but it was a satisfying tired. I don't have a photo of us paddling, but here's a post-paddling photo of an exhausted me and Heather on the Ferry ride home.

If you're ever headed to the "North of Seattle" area, I highly recommend Sea Kayaking in the San Juans!!! In fact I'd recommend taking a trip to the San Juans even if it's completely out of your way.

Working in the Seattle office, and Sea Kayaking with Heather, Christy, & Hathan

I love having the chance to meet up with co-workers, old and new. Sounds weird, I know, but since I work in an office of 1 it's a great novelty to me to be able to socialize with co-workers in person, so I take opportunities where I find them. So when Heather (friend and co-worker from Manchester) told me she'd be coming to Seattle I figured it was the perfect opportunity to visit with her, as well as with friends in the Seattle office.

So after taking the train to downtown Seattle, I hauled myself and my luggage up to the Seattle office to work. I know I get all goofy about this kind of stuff, but it was SO GREAT to see Ryan again, and Malaika, and to meet everybody else there. On my first night in town the Seattle office was having a softball game, so I got to go hang out with Malaika and watch the game. Lucky for me I'd worn heels, and at the moment of desperation where I might have gotten called in anyway (these things are always short on women) Gregg called. Nice timing Gregg! The competition got a little snipey and unpleasant, which really just made them more fun to mock.

Heather's flight got in mighty late, and the guy at the hostel checked us in to the 4-person male dorm instead of the female dorm. But eventually Heather made it to the hostel, the male dorm became a co-ed dorm, and all was well. The hostel was really nice. Very clean, very friendly (if not entirely competent) staff, and located just a block from Pike Place Market, and a few blocks west of the Seattle Mercer office. I'd totally recommend it!

McMenamins

I don't know if I've mentioned recently how much we love McMenamins. Not necessarily the beer, though it isn't bad. And they have a lot of pubs that aren't anything special. Just your typical pub. But they also have some really extraordinary properties that we adore! They buy properties that have often been neglected, some to the point of being condemned, and they renovate them. They make an effort to maintain some of the history of the place, but do it in a way that opens it to the public and makes it a great vacation destination, movie theater, or music venue.

We spent the first night of our honeymoon at Edgefield, so I'll start there. It was built in 1911, and for several decades was the Multnomah County Poor Farm. In 1962, it was renamed Edgefield Manor and for the last two decades of operation, functioned as a nursing home and eventually closed in 1982. McMenamins bought the property in 1990, and over the course of four years converted the condemned buildings and land into a European-style village, including lodging, a pub with a movie theater, a restaurant, a winery, a brewery, distillery, golf course, gardens, vineyards, artwork, etc. It's gorgeous and wonderful.

More recently Gregg and I took advantage of the Roy Gardner Great Train Escape Package, and took the train up to Centralia for a weekend to stay at the Olympic Club. Another very cool property. This one didn't require substantial renovation, although they've obviously added their own touch. Check out the very amazing faucet from the women's room. Several of the knobs and handles actually functioned. Flush the toilet, and water came out one of the faucets. They also added their usual murals and artwork throughout the building. But in fact the Pool hall has been in operation since 1908. In 1913 the Oxford Hotel opened, and I think it's also been open and running ever since. The place overflows with stories of 'bandits, bars and brothels'. In fact the deal we took advantage of was named after Roy Gardner, an outlaw who escaped federal marshals twice I think, and escaped from prison at least once more. I think he was actually re-captured finally at the Olympic Hotel. Pretty cool, huh?

The pool hall still has a bunch of antique pool tables, so putting beverages on the table (and other neglectful behaviour) is strictly prohibited. At the far end of the pool hall is a trap door, hidden under a floor mat, that opens to an underground passage leading from the pool hall to the train station. During prohibition this tunnel was used to smuggle booze. From what we saw in the two days we were there, Centralia doesn't have a whole lot going for it. But the Olympic club could entertain you for a whole weekend, with movies, great food, fantastic staff, and pool.

Oregon's Jet Boats

We've had a couple of occassions to ride jet boats recently. Despite the fact that it's all part of an organized tour, it has the potential to be really fun! It isn't the best way to get to know the river, but it's not half bad as an introduction.

On Mother's day Gregg and I joined his sister Cindy, his mom, and her new husband Johnny for a jet boat trip on the Willamette. We had unbelievably gorgeous weather. Perfectly sunny all day, but not too hot. It makes me so happy to see the sun again. The Willamette trip starts at OMSI and goes to the Willamette Falls Locks (you can see the falls to the left), and back again. The guide was great, and in addition to doing lots of loop-de-loops for excitement he provided a lot of historical information about the area.




More recently I attended my 20th class reunion. I'll chat about that a little more later, but at the end of the reunion Gregg and I took a Sunday brunch trip on the Rogue River with Hellgate Jet Boat Excursions. I know I've done the trip before, but can't remember when that might have been. Years ago, just don't remember how many years. I wasn't expecting much, but it was actually a LOT of fun. Again, a great guide made all the difference. Of course the Rogue isn't as wide and deep as the Willamette, which makes it more fun in my opinion. You get to travel over more whitewater (ripples) and over very, very shallow water. It's amazing what those boats can do. Our guide was excellent at playing with the boat, and several times created huge walls of water that would wash over everyone in the boat. There wasn't a dry seat in the house. The photo shows the boat that was behind us, playing in our wake. Great fun for everyone (except the little old lady next to me, who spent the entire trip grumbling about getting wet, in the 90 degree heat).

Labor Day Weekend ~ 2005

Our favorite Denver band, Devotchka played Berbati's Pan in Portland Friday night. I got all dressed up ~ hair, makeup, stockings and heels...an event in itself ~ and picked Gregg up from work. We got to Portland about half an hour before doors opened, so we stopped in at a little bar around the corner from Berbati's Pan, and had drinks and shared a bowl of yummy noodles with peanut sauce while we waited. When we got into Berbati's we noticed it is a non-smoking venue...another great surprise. We always go early, and endure the mediocre to very bad opening act, so that we can get a great seat. Berbati's has a lot of seating for this kind of venue, and there really weren't a lot of early arivals, so we got lucky. While Gregg was checking out the CDs and getting us drinks an older Russian couple showed up and sat with us. Alex and Xena. He's a retired taxi driver, and she repairs hardware for Sun Microsystems. They only moved to Portland from the San Francisco area a little over a year ago, and they definitely haven't adjusted yet. They really don't like the weather. They get out to a lot of shows, but I don't think anything like this before. They didn't know anything about Devotchka, except that it's the Russian word for "little girl". Xena seemed to be really interested in the band. They're a pretty ecclectic group. The drummer also plays an accordian. There's also an accordian/violin guy. The standing bass player is also the sousaphone player ("Tuba Girl"). And the singer also plays the theramin. I think Xena was really curious about the theramin. Anyway, I think the noise was too much for Alex, and they left about halfway through the show. We stayed to the last note, and then walked next door to the Voodoo Doughnut, where I got the Rasberry blood filled Voodoo doughnut with the pretzel stick stuck in it's chest. Great fun. We finally arrived home at 2:30...not bad considering all the fun that was had after a full day of work. That's packing a lot into a day.

Saturday morning we slept in (duh). I meandered down to Legacy Coffee at about 10 a.m. for my favorite Coffee & Danish. It's a dinky little shop that mostly sells coffee beans (grean and roasted) and other coffee equipment. They're a block from the Saturday Farmers' Market, so on Saturday they make home-made Danish and brew up coffee, and sell the pair for $2. It's the best Danish I've ever had. So I sat down there for half an hour drinking my coffee and eating my Danish, walked through the Farmers' Market and picked up some fresh tomatoes and Basil, picked up a couple of Petit Fours at New Morning Bakery on the way back to the car, and went home to pack a lunch. Meanwhile, Gregg was getting his bike ready and riding out to Newport (yes, 55 miles away). So I had a lazy, leisurely morning, and Gregg had an ambitious athletic morning.

When Gregg got to Newport I was on the beach. I'd accidentally walked into a scene where a mom was screaming and crying (basically falling apart). Her son(s) had apparently been out in the ocean with her, and when she got to shore she found one of their boards (boogie maybe, not surf) and was sure he was out there drowning. Apparently from Gregg's vantage point up at the parking lot everybody could see the two boys, and they were pretty far from where the mom was pointing the rescuers to. We watched three coast guard boats, a coast guard chopper, one or two coast guard trucks (and a bunch of coasties), two fire trucks, two ambulances, and a couple of state police vehicles. I'm pretty sure I've never seen such a big rescue presence, and they got there fast. It was pretty impressive. Of course, the two boys floated in safely before the rescuers even got to them. They were probably pretty damned cold and freaked out, but they walked out of the surf.

After all that adventure we played in the surf with Demi a little bit, and then decided to head a little further up the coast. We pulled over at a lookout where we knew there were supposed to be some resident Gray whales. We had several excellent sightings of whales...blow, back, and a couple of great fluke sightings. It was very cool. And Gregg (his father's son) was a chatty tour guide for all the tourists. It was fun for all, and the best whale sightings I've had. We're looking forward to the Whale Watch weekends coming up this year.

And tomorrow we'll cap off the weekend by going for a mountain bike ride in the afternoon. How much fun can you have in one weekend?