Hippies and Hoes

Sorry for the terrbily delayed blog from my adventures with Todd. Last week was designated to clean-up and recovery. I'll have pictures posted shortly. Enjoy. . .i know we did.

Disclaimer:
The contents below are part of a multipart series of events that took place during Thanksgiving week 2008. Please be sure to read from the bottom up, otherwise you will read the story in reverse. The events are told as i remember them. Names, ages, and locations have not been altered to protect the innocent. . .or guilty.

The Eve and Day 1.

My week long vacation started with a bang. . .literally. On my ride home Friday afternoon i managed to bang my head, shoulder, hip, knee and ankle in an impromptu flailing to the city street. Fortunately, my IPod broke my fall. . .oh wait. . .it just broke. In the spirit of the recent Hallmark holiday, i'm thankful i had my helmet on to protect all that brainy goodness i keep between the ol' ears. The rest of Friday was pretty uneventful, happy hour with friends, a trip to NoPo to pick up some snowboard gear and another trip to the airport to pick up the big bro'. After some beverages and grub it was time for a late night round of Frisbee golf through Laurelhurst park. Our legs and minds were getting tired and needed some rest for the next days’ adventures so the back nine consisted of a more urban setting, aka, the road leading back home and with parked cars for hazards.

The real adventure started the next morning. Todd and i got up early and started charging. We stopped off at Noah's for some bagels and java. We hit the road and the plan was to drive. . .south. After a stop at the Deschutes Brewery in Bend, Oregon we continued on what was to this point, our uneventful trip. We were making some good progress and the Yota didn't show any signs of slowing down. In fact, the truck (certainly not the driver) was so anxious to get to Mammoth that we ended up flying up on a well marked California Highway Patrol Suburban. The officer kindly moved to the side of the road to let us by and then filed in behind us. Within just a few hundred feet his lights started this pretty twirling and flashing. Busted! The officer was pretty cool and with a few bats of my lovely, luscious lashes (thanks Maybeline) he let us off with a warning. The Yota got a stern talking to (oh wait. . .that was me who got the lecture) and we were back down the road, making full use of cruise control this time.

Lunch Spot.

Mt Jefferson on the way to Bend.

A shot from the road.

Setting up for the next two photos.

Roadside sunset.

. . .and again.

Everyone was in need of a break from the road so we settled into the fine city of Reno, NV, the biggest little city in the world (quite the claim). Reno is pretty much known for one thing, or as far as i know it's only known for one thing, gambling. I rested the truck on the top floor of a parking garage, we knocked back a few Oregon brews (Deschutes JubleAle) and headed town to strike it rich. After a quick pass through Circus Circus, which had a kids arcade/play area upstairs and ear shattering, bell ringing slots below, we moved on to the next locale, Cal Neva. According to the flashing billboard outside, it was the "Best Bet in Reno" and they even went as far as to claim "Guaranteed to Win!" How can you go wrong with that? Well. . .let me tell you how. Todd headed straight for the $5 BlackJack table and i headed to the "Snack Bar" for a delicious Casino Dog. I scarfed down the dog as quickly as the morbidly obese people sitting next to me destroyed my appetite. It was off the BlackJack tables for me. Thankfully there was an open seat next to Todd at the table. I pulled up the stool and prepared to give away my $100. The rules in Reno, or at least at Cal Neva, were quite kooky. It seemed that every time i tried to do something, make a bet, ask for a card, hold, double down, drink, look at the person next to me, pick my nose, shuffle my feet, or blink i got corrected about how whatever it was i was doing was not kosher. I gradually caught on to the rules but the lack of my BlackJack prowess was apparent enough that the dealer would make ugly faces (uglier than she already was, mean I know) at my decisions. I would then change my decision and then. . .give her my money, $5 at a time. I started to hit a hot streak just as Todd's luck went cold, actually, it was pretty cold all night. I hit a few black jacks and got my $100 back and then some. In the end i gambled away all my winnings but left with the same $100 i walked in with. Todd wasn't so lucky. He lost the deed to the house and nearly offered up his unborn child but didn't have any paperwork to prove her natal existence (really. . .he lost $100).

The sign says it all.

What are pictures of Reno without a shot of a guy in a wheelchair in front of "The Nugget."

Believe it or not. . .we passed up this swank place to sleep in the truck.

Reno wore thin quickly and we decided to keep driving southward to Lake Tahoe. We walked back to the parking garage and discovered that all the stairwells were locked and the elevator was on the other side of the garage. So. . .we threw down some urban crag work and monkied our way up a trellis to the 2nd floor. The drive to Tahoe was only another hour or so. We drove down to the lake and perused the driveways of some fancy lake homes for a spot to park the chateau. We found a pretty nice cedar shingled pad with no lights, no cars and best of all. . .no "No Trespassing" sign. It was a peaceful but chilly night in the back of the truck.

The alternate route to the truck in Reno.

Success!

Preview of Day 2. Lake Tahoe in the A.M.

High Fives in the Cascades

Aha! Proof!

I'll be honest. . .this week was quite possibly one of my roughest since moving to Oregon. Work was crazy (including my first lay off), soccer was total crap, a speeding ticket and it appeared that winter had officially arrived. The week didn't turn for the better until Friday, sunny, quite fabulous Friday. I was ready for the week to come to an end and the weekend to start. I was a little worried that i was going to spend my weekend either drinking or sleeping off a hangover but instead i kept it cool and filled it with fun activities instead (and a few whiskies on the rocks).

Friday night i joined a friend for happy hour and drinks downtown before heading to "Mortified." Our dinning choice was closed for a private party so we wandered aimlessly around downtown until something jumped out at us. Sushi it was. This wasn't you normal, sake serving, octopus and rice munching sushi joint. This place had a train! Yes. . .a model train choo chooed itself around the bar with flat-bed cargo carts filled with plates of deliciously fresh sushi. Not really the classiest of places, seeing as it was between a methadone clinic and a brake shop. But. . .it you stuck with the floral or tan plates you could walk away with an "authentic" Japanese meal for two at a cost lower than most burrito carts in the city. After dining on some tan and floral plates we strolled over to meet some more friends for "Mortified." "Mortified" is a live, poetry reading like comedy routine/troop that entertains the crowd by reading snippets from their personal writings and journals, dear diary type stuff. I wasn't that excited for much more than the company when i got the invite, thinking it was going to be a coffee house, open mic, snap your fingers type of gig. What actually ensued was nothing but shear laughter over other people's apparent adolescent terror. The spectrum of topics was broad but in the end everyone was basically reading about adolescent torment. Good times had by all.

Saturday it was back to the trails. A friend, her dog and i headed into the Gorge for a casual walk through the woods. We were "blessed" with some of the nicest November weather i've seen. The hike was simple and easy on the ol' psoas. I have never been to the Gorge on as clear of a day. Usually, on a good day, you'll get some misty glimpses of Mt. Hood and Adams but this trip i was gifted with views of five Cascade mountains. Mt. Saint Helens, Mt, Adams, Mt. Rainier, Mt Hood and Mt. Jefferson. I feel pretty lucky to find myself out on this perfect day. . .in November of all months (November tends to be one of the wettest months in Oregon). I took a lot of pictures. . .bear with me.

The trail up Larch Mountain.

A black and white shot of St. Helens, Mt. Adams and Mt. Rainier

Mt. Rainier

St. Helens, Mt. Adams and Mt Rainier (in color)

Helens and Adams

Here you can see Adams and Rainier. The shadow is Larch Mountain. Helens was in the viewfinder but didn't show up in the picture.

Mt. Rainier

Mt. Saint Helens

Helens in the absence of color.

Majestic Mt. Hood

And again.

And without color.

The fifth and final member of the Cascade family, Mt. Jefferson. It's the little peak just right of the tree.

It was a great weekend to be an Oregonian. The icing on the cake was an early morning of splitting wood, raking leaves and a round of Frisbee golf. The weekend proved to be just the ticket to forgetting about an exceptionally shitty week.

Laugh Free Situation

This weekend i found myself in the quaint town of Moscow Idaho (pronounced Moscoe), in case you were wondering. A co-worker and i headed out there early Friday to visit with a former co-worker and her hubby. I didn't really know what to expect once we got there. My only experience with any relation to Idaho was this trashy lass i met when living on the east coast, Jenny Idaho. She was indeed. . .a hoe. I don't throw that word around loosely so you know i really mean it. On with the meat (ironic choice of words seeing as we were visiting veggies).

We rolled into Moscow after a pretty uneventful 6 hour ride. We had stopped off in Walla Walla Washington for a quick lunch. My co-pilot and i walked into what looked like a classy coffee shop/cafe. Once we were seated we found the atmosphere to be more like a feline serving Chinese restaurant than a coffee shop. The place was strange to say the least. As you entered the joint you were welcomed by a nicely appointed, wood floored coffee shop. As we ventured further back. . .the place got worse. It went from coffee shop, to low brown diner, to feline serving Chinese family restaurant. The food matched the decor. I opted for a bowl of "Boston Clam Chowder," which was more like heated clam sauce in a bowl with corn, and the ever-so heart healthy BLT. I must give credit where credit is due. . .the BLT wasn't bad but then again. . .who can screw up a BLT? I'll leave out the drink confusion that took place between the waitress and i.

Just one of the delicous items available at the coffee shop.

After an impromptu tour of downtown Moscow we briefly met up with Stacie and Austin before they had to leave for their concert in Spokane. Left to our own devices Kristie and i ventured back into downtown Moscow for libations, food and entertainment. We found ourselves at a place called Mingles. Mingles is a billiards joint that just so happened to be filled with an assortment of other gems. One of these said gems was the untouched shuffleboard table tucked away in a dark corner. I seem to have a nose for shuffleboard like an old person does for pancake breakfasts. We got ourselves some pucks and started chucking away. The table was long and concaved, which made us look a lot better than we are. We even caught the attention of an older gentleman (probably looking for a pancake breakfast) walking past the bar. After a few beverages it was unclear as to who was the victor, in the end it didn't really matter. Another morsel of pleasure Mingles offered was the 60 inch big screen tv, featuring, not basketball or football but fishing. They didn't have just any ol' fishing on display, they were showing cat fishing. Only the finest for our viewing pleasure. The last and quite possibly the finest gem found at Mingles was in the bathroom. Now. . .everyone would expect a condom dispenser in the bathroom, that's common place in a spot like Mingles. But Mingles took class to a whole new level. They had a fragrance machine in the bathroom, with "Brut "like fragrance," Jovan Musk Oil "like fragrance," and of course, not to be left out. . .Aramis "like fragrance." We desperately wanted to take a video of me saucing it up but waited too long and the bathroom got filled with sausage. Apparently the women's room sported a similar feature, only different "like fragrances."

We left Mingles in search for greener pastures but found ourselves wandering around downtown Moscow, taking pictures of storefronts and talking to the local "beat" cops about sticky buns and delis. As the night drew to a close, at 9pm because we're old, it was back to the truck. This trip i was particularly blessed. Instead of sleeping on the side of the road or in a dark parking lot, i had a room with a bed. Life was good.

A shot of the Mingles logo on the shuffle board.

Somebody decided to dump their wine on the table.

And then tried to suck it up with a straw.

and when the head rush got to be too powerful. . .we went for the gutter method of collection.

Here is the stink box from the men's room. I really like the rust in the Jovan Musk Oil "like fragrance" jet.

Saturday we woke up to drizzle and heavy fog. After a delicious breakfast feast we hopped in the car and headed up to Step Toe Butte for a view of the Palousse. Late fall isn't the best time to view the Palousse but it was pretty impressive either way. I took a few pictures but justice was not done. Crappy light and poor skill kept the pictures from coming out as good as the view itself. The rest of Saturday was spent relaxing at home, manging on some tasty mac n' cheese and more relaxing. Sunday morning we headed out for breakfast on the town and people watching only to be foiled by parents weekend and long lines. The trip was nice and it was good to see Stacie and Austin. We we lucky enough to be around the weekend they discovered the sex of their child. I still didn't think the occasion warranted Stacie drinking all that whiskey and pop all those pills but who am i to judge?

A view of the Palousse from atop Step Toe Butte.

I stopped for a potty break along side of this grove of trees. The grove stretched for a few miles along the side of the highway. Each row seemed to be planted in a perfect line.