As has been the custom for the last thousands of millennia, spring comes after the winter. That 2021 was no different came as no surprise. This year we were already prepped here in southern Washington, as the last several weeks of the torpor season warmed noticeably and all of those re-birth type emotions were well in place when March 21 arrived. In my own case I began exercising and hiking in earnest again. I let my light weight and stretching actions lapse and my hiking was not occurring regularly. It showed noticeably when I returned to these activities and walking a mile was a noticeable impact especially on my hip joints. Anyway by walking additional miles every day and being strict about my exercise regime I feel things lightening up a lot. So...I am increasing these activities incrementally.
Portland's Farmer's Market at PSU is open all year but I didn't return until early spring and found it as grand as ever. I get there every month or so even if it is just for some hot food and the spirit of the market. Anyone who knows me understands that I am addicted to markets and find them wherever I go.
Portland Market
By early April I got antsy enough to go on my first trip in 6 months. I had read about a town in the mountains about 5 hours from where I sit. It is east of Seattle about 2 hours and is called Leavenworth. Whoever designed it wanted a Bavarian styled town and they were successful, sort of.
I left Vancouver on a brisk but crystal clear morning, a little before 9:00am. The ride north was uneventful. Once I was about 10 miles north it became a beautiful early spring day. Past Castle Rock about 40 miles from here the drive becomes about as dreary a ride as one could imagine. It is mostly suburban commercial with all of the standard chains. There are also big truck repair shops and dealerships. Occasional there are political posters the messaging on each is to express that sort of white guy anger that boils at the center of rural Washington. I discovered at a rest area that Biden is a “biscum” which has never been reported in responsible media.
From that rest area just past Tacoma, I got on a state highway #80 where the mountains arise and on to US 90 where I traveled through the Wenatchee Forest. Beyond that and past the Teanaway River I reached another state route, WA97. From there it was on to Leavenworth.
Leavenworth view of the mountains
I had rented a “tiny house” for the night and being about 15 miles outside of Leavenworth I took advantage of my spare few hours to explore this small town. More on the house later.
Leavenworth is more of an ersatz village created with a theme. It is a tourist attraction not only for the skiing which is quite popular but for its Bavarian theme. The buildings including the McDonald's and Mexican restaurants are all Bavarian style and the signage likewise intended to give the town an Alpine village “feel”. To that end it is pretty hokey. I suppose that a Burger King franchise in Nuremberg might have a logo adorned with a BK.
At any rate the tourist attraction town was doing quite well this particular Tuesday. It was sunny and in the mid 60s which really helped. The streets were packed with people like me. The Covid 19 issue prevented restaurants from full capacity but they were as jammed as they legally could be. One had to essentially make a reservation for a bar stool and a stein.
I bought a couple of tacos and enjoyed them on a grassy knoll. A few hundred others shared the same space, many eating and others such as toddlers running off energetic steam. This repast was simply to ward off the pangs developed from a long drive and the hours since I had other food. They were quite good but only a filler. I wanted to buy a German meal that I could take back to my overnight residence for more deliberate eating.
So I walked around the town which was larger than I imagined prior to getting here. Everything was Bavarian though I wonder what percentage of the locals could speak a language other than English or Spanish. Anyway I bought a meal of Wurst, fried potatoes and two kinds of sauerkraut, a golden colored variety and a red cabbage version. While all of the meal was quite good, the red pickled cabbage stood out and will be the easiest to remember.
Leavenworth
Around 4:00 pm I headed to the tiny house to see what I had gotten into. This AirBnB lived up to its name and was in fact, quite tiny. When I put the address into the GPS a side note appeared that warned me of dangerous animals in the area. Fortunately I did not come face to face with any and unfortunately I did not see any from a safe position.
When I rented the place the owner sent a lengthy email with dos and dont's during my stay. When I entered I saw that there were notes all throughout with additional rules. They did not include the tricks to starting the gas stove. Standard methods like lighting it with a match or a lighter didn't work because there was no gas flow. There was another outdoor cooking range on the deck and I couldn't figure out how to light that one either. I only wanted to heat water for some coffee in the morning so not having that ability was not tragic, simply annoying.
It also came with a composting toilet which also had more specific rules for usage. Worried about looming disasters that may come with misuse, I elected to use a tree outdoors in most cases.
The term “tiny” most aptly applied to the bathroom. There was about 12x18 inch floor area and to use the shower you sat on the toilet. That did not matter to me since to get the water tepid would take about 20 minutes of wasted water flow. I was leaving for a lengthy trip home in the morning and never need a shower prior to spending 5 or 6 hours in the car.
This tiny house is located along with two others on a mountain slope in the Cascades. The owner's home is at the base of that same slope. I never met him though I saw someone who appeared to be in charge. Neither the latitude nor the altitude here were the same as they those in Leavenworth so that despite the sunny skies it was noticeable cooler. It also is in a forest of huge Douglas Firs providing much shading.
That night it dropped into the high 20s. My bed which was up on as much of a loft as can be in these quarters and required me to climb on a bench and up and into it. With the lights out, it was difficult to see anything. Those factors all made me not want to get out from under the covers. However, in my dotage, a middle of the night bathroom excursion is routine as it was that night. I scrambled down from the bed and unto tile flooring in bare feet (enhancing that familiar urge considerably) and scrambled to the tiny bathroom using it as best I could and hurrying back to the blankets. Being restless over the next couple hours I slept erratically and was wide awake before 6:00 am. Given the lack of heat and my inability to work either of the stoves, I had little reason to hang around. No coffee or comfort made my decision to leave then, easy to make.
In the cold of early light I closed the door of the tiny house one last time. I should add that overnight experience ran to about $165.00 pinching a budget considerably and making me less interested in ever doing an AirBnB again.
Tiny House
I drove through the mountains (still laden with a winters worth of snow) for a while but descended through into the high desert surrounding among the little bergs here and there until I reached Yakima and the Yakima Tribal Nation. There is a lot of stark beauty in these eastern Washington deserts.
The land is bleak with occasional tufts of hardy green plants popping up along with scruffy, leafless (being still early spring) trees. One can see for about a trillion miles there. At one point Mt Rainier rose from a distance to the west and Mt. Adams in view in front of me to the south. The rolling lands of this place slowly descending into Washington State route #14 which is maybe my favorite road of all times. I landed there about 75 miles to the east of my apartment. I was able to enjoy the foothills and winding road along the Columbia River which I love doing. That ended my fairly bittersweet two day adventure to see Leavenworth.
Hannah, Lucie and Ali came for a visit in the middle of April which was real nice especially since I have rarely seen Ali in person during his short life. He was mostly in a pleasant mood and is a far more intrepid walker than I remember ever seeing in an 18 monther. During the two day visit we mostly entertained and were entertained by Ali and that is what I most remember about short people of his age.
Kids
I got my own second vaccine shot at the end of March but I see that vast numbers of Americans-most of them who get their annual flu shot, have decided not to get this Covid vaccine. The reasons are almost universally based on political beliefs though that is often denied. A private school in Florida will not allow any of their teachers to be vaccinated. One of the friends from my youth, told me that he is not getting the shots because he doesn't believe the disease is that contagious. If the data itself is not convincing I am left to understand that he could be the last survivor on earth and still be proud of his stand.
I have watched Americans get stupider all the time but with the media and modern technology the idiocy is spiraling quickly. That is satisfactory to the Republican party (which clearly no longer stands for things like tradition, personal accountability and being true to one's word any longer) as they seek total control and how better to do that than to have supporters who gainsay factual data in lieu of conspiracy hysteria. This will only help the rich get richer but their supporters would rather eat each other than get in the way of the demagogues. It is the party line that is demanded rather than personal integrity and thinking for one's self. Of course voter suppression is another tactic that these patriots support and help create.
That is America for you. Its interesting that governments that supported the last CIC are also having their virus numbers skyrocket. To emulate America, other nations recognize that they too have to ensure that as a nation, they must dumb down quickly and forever.
An anchovy and artichoke Pizza
Seaside, Oregon was the destination of my second voyage of the spring and I got there on April 27. I left at 9:30 while the sun burned through the morning clouds. I traveled down I5 to Oregon state Highway #26 and from there directly to Seaside. It was pretty hectic getting from my apartment to #26 about 20 miles away. The next 20 miles were high speed but suburban so it looked like one of those long routes through every suburb in America. It is never long before one reaches an I Hop restaurant.
Once shed of exurbia, I started to climb into the Coastal Range and now the signage indicated that I was on Sunset Drive. Then I was in the Tillamook Forest with its 100 foot tall Douglas Firs. It was too early in the season for the foliage to create a full canopy but it was getting close. Saddle Mountain came into view as a promontory that ended at the highway. A few more miles to coastal highway #101 would take me about 5 miles to my motel room.
Being several hours away from check in time, I spent about an hour walking around, checking store fronts for curiosities and restaurants for menus. The walk was cursory but it gave me ideas about dinner (something always close on my mind). One of the storefront displays was filled with about 100 model cars like I used to assemble as a preteen.
Knowing that I had plenty of time to explore this much bigger than I expected town, I headed south on the Coastal Highway about 40 miles to Tillamook. I took lots of time for stops in some of the towns along the way.
Cannon Beach
This is a beautiful trip and I do it as often as I can (with the exception of this last Covid lock down year) and every time I see something different. Today there were a couple of eagles roosting high above the ocean south of Cannon Beach.
Eagle
Exploring that town a little bit, I left uninspired. However it had all of the accessories that a wealthier tourist town needs. It also has the obelisk rock formations jutting out of the waters which gave the town its name. From there I went to Garibaldi (curiously named for the 19th century Italian revolutionary). There I walked around and found a city park to eat my home prepared and now soggy sandwich. It was still pretty tasty despite the less than elegant presentation. The park was next the docks and a boat launch so I watched fishing boats coming in for awhile.
One noticeable feature of the Oregon coast is that much of it is not accessible to those actually using the Pacific itself. That is because this terrain was created by volcanoes many millions of years ago. They left basalt cliffs that are high above the water and remarkable in their beauty.
Cliffs
Back north along the Coastal Highway I traveled about an hour to my motel room and took a break. Once that respite was sufficient, I took another walk around town and decided that tonight it would be seafood which was probably the most popular type of dining around here. I had the fish and chips (cod) from The Twisted Fish Steak House. It was reasonably good. While I enjoyed it well enough, there was nothing remarkable about it.
After a postprandial rest, I went out to see the sun set on the coast. I was too early so I walked around and initially saw those touristy venues with allures of the basest kind like all coastal towns bent on drawing people to enjoy them. Seaside was somewhat more declasse than Cannon Beach so the attractions were designed not for elegance but for the number of people that could fit into the establishment (hampered noticeably by Covid restrictions). So...walking past the bumper car arena and the tee shirt emporium I read some of the statements one could adorn themselves with. You can buy a sweatshirt with a slogan regarding Seaside, Oregon, either basic or humorous. You can also buy shirts that have nothing to do with this locale but state the opinion some media talking head wants you to think you have. You can attest to what symbol you will need to stand for and which you will kneel for. It is like a chevron except on your chest rather than your sleeve.
I stopped for a beer at the Sisu Brew Pub and watched the end of a baseball game. Despite the crowds on the street, the pub was nearly empty. I had their red ale and that was a bit sweet but palatable and by now the sun was close enough to setting so I trekked the few blocks back to the beach, camera in hand.
I explored along the mile and a half promenade waiting for the right moment and watched what other tourists and locals were doing. I am not as intrepid as hundreds of others at the beach which was too cold for me to walk barefoot. It wasn't all that cold but I kept my shoes on.
There were beach performers that included a new style for me. A couple of young men had buckets of soapy water and these net like instruments that allowed them to make bubbles of enormous size. Not only were they large but they took forms more like jellyfish than the perfectly round ones that those children's kits make. They also traveled pretty far, probably about 400 feet up on the perpendicular road filled with enthralled tourists.
Bubble
Bubble makers
Everyone seemed to enjoy these spectacles as much as I did.
The sun finally muted to orange from its yellow intensity a few moments ago and I was able to get many pictures and here is one of them.
Sunset on the Pacific Ocean
The motel room itself was pretty weathered but the pandemic amenities were excellent. They included a kitchenette which had I known of in advance, I would have bought something to prepare while there. On the other hand one reason to come to the coast is to eat the local food.
So as usual I used the refrigerator for beer and snacks and the microwave to heat some seafood bisque. I had a view of the parking lot but the cost of an ocean view room was prohibitive and the Pacific was only two blocks away anyway.
It was a good first day of my get away. It was also a beautiful one. I got to have a nice long seaside drive and ate well.
I began Wednesday much like I ended Tuesday-taking a long walk along the promenade which was built by one of the town fathers around 130 years ago. The ocean itself is about a quarter mile away from the promenade that the immigrant town father, Alexandre Gilbert built in the 1890s. I also re-toured much of the town (again scouting out my evening meal). Along the promenade were dog walkers, aged exercisers (I suppose I would be in that demographic), bike riders and a few homeless people who may have slept at the beach. These groups of people replaced the families and side show artists of the previous evening. The sun peaked over the Coastal Range to the east and blinded anyone heading in that direction at that time of the morning. In the distance and at the shore were photographers and painters as well as a few early waders in what must have been gelid briny waves.
The scrub grasses that could survive on the sand lent a green\brown hue and undoubtedly protected the town from the massive winter tides that exist every winter at the coast.
I stayed pretty local all day on Wednesday, going back to the promenade on several occasions. I bought a couple of carne asada tacos and enjoyed them on one of my ventures back to the shore. Even though I traipsed about 5 miles around the town I still need periodic down times and lolled about the motel room once in a while during the day but come evening and dinner time I headed back out. I had already bought a nice Columbia Valley Red blend to accompany dinner while out earlier so now this venture would be for my evening repast.
My walk was piloted by my taste buds and this evening they clamored for Italian demanding that loudly. There was Nonni's Italian Restaurant and I bought a cannelloni dinner and took it back to my room to be enjoyed along with a glass of the red wine. It was not exactly fine dining, what with my glass being one of those flimsy plastic freebies at the motel, the ones sealed in a plastic bag to be peeled away from when first being used. Nonetheless the food was spectacular and I was thankful for the occasional belch that reminded me of my meal throughout the evening.
I was nearly done for the day but did take one more trip to the ocean for a much less elegant sunset than the evening before. The rest of the night I spent reading and watching some forgettable television before falling asleep.
Thursday morning I took one final but pretty extensive walk around town and along the promenade. Once rush hour was over I checked out and headed east and to home along Oregon Highway #30. This route is the shortest way back to Portland and up to Vancouver but it is only interesting for a short time after leaving Astoria and long before getting to Portland. Outside of Rainier, OR I could see a mountain top-probably Mt. Rainier given the town's name, perhaps Mt. St. Helen's which is much closer but more to the east. Anyway I am not sure. The trip was complete but it was a well spent three days.
On May 12th the Republican party stripped Liz Cheney of some leadership roles because she would not swear blind allegiance to a past presidency. Absolute conformity to an anti democratic authority is the only acceptable position to take if you are a republican. Otherwise they will castigate you. I guess this drive to destroy democracy is a result of republican “sheeple” confusing that word with democrat. They won't settle for any thing less than a return of the orange president. You all remember him, he is the one who did nothing for the people who are his devoted minions. He did not have time for them since he was lining the pockets of himself, his family members and a small number of his peers. His actions did nothing to make this a better place for the vast majority of Americans.
The weekend of May15th was particularly pleasant with highs in the upper 70s and plenty of sun. That enhanced a couple of visits quite a bit. On Saturday I went to county park in Northwestern Vancouver on the Columbia River. Frenchman's Bar, so named for Paul Hauray, a French fur trader bound for Alaska. I walked it for about an hour and a half which was near enough time to see the whole of what the park could offer. In many ways there was little that I generally want in my walking space. There was a dearth of birds though it is too early to suggest that it is a bad place to go to view birds. I was there on a very summer like noon time. Perhaps the evening, morning or autumn would provide different opportunities to see interesting birds.
The park is pretty well kept up with facilities and picnic situations everywhere. On this excellent day for a picnic, other families and groups were there in large numbers. They cooked, ate, played volleyball and cards. Lots of people enjoyed the beach playing volleyball and frisbee, others fished. Some waded along the river. Signs warned that with some deep drop offs and swift currents, swimming was less than prudent. I would imagine that even unspoken, the river while beautiful, is still a river with ocean bound ships and recreational boating and probably reasonably polluted.
So I am not going to be a regular at this park I can imagine coming out on an occasional early morning. Perhaps some fine summer day I'll bring some charcoal and chicken and barbecue my dinner and read a book for awhile. I enjoyed that so many other people were enjoying themselves at Fisherman's Bar.
The next day was likewise summer like and being a Sunday, I decided to venture down to Milwaukee, OR to see the town and to check out their Sunday Farmer's Market. The Milwaukee central stop on Portland's light rail's Yellow line is about an hour's trip from Delta Park where I normally board the train. I took a bus from downtown Vancouver to Delta Park after driving from my apartment. This meant that in total I traveled nearly two hours to get to the Farmer's Market. I did not care for having a good book and riding through parts of Portland that I had never been to, there by scoping out places I might want to visit.
I got to the right stop and explored downtown Milwaukee a bit before entering the large market right downtown. It is still too early for markets to be in full bloom so I bought no produce but I did buy a bottle of Alicha Kulet (or for us Americans, turmeric sauce) from the Ethiopian booth where I also bought a small meal of spiced chicken, vegetables and injira bread. I took this basket down to a small park on the Willamette River to enjoy some riverside ambiance along with my spicy lunch
Milwaukie Market
Willamette River
Most all of May was sunny and dry. Even the gray and drizzly days did not provide enough water to make even a small dent in the reservoir table. As much as I enjoy warm and dry, it appears that we are in bad shape and the fire season looms nigh. So early June provided some rain but it did not start until the day I left for home after a visit with my daughters and grandson. It was a good visit because it was the first one where we had the option to do something other than sit outside and solve all of the world's problems. Friday night Lucie and her boyfriend, Eddy and I went to a local Mexican restaurant where I had excellent chicken enchiladas in mole sauce. We ended up staying late talking over beers. On Saturday morning I drove up to Hannah's where we entertained and were entertained by Ali.
At just the right time in the afternoon the three of us headed off to the bonsai forest garden in Federal Way where Ali took charge of his stroller and pushed into the side of the walkway. Once an adult extricated it, he did it again, and again until his mother created a game that forced him to chase her.
Bird of paradise
Pensive Ali
While I was up in the Seattle area my old friends who have been living in New Hampshire for many years arrived for their annual visit with their daughter's family in Portland. We got together for dinner and some pub hopping along Hawthorne Ave. Rande and I have something of a system that he have tailored for nearly 50 years now for enjoying a pint and some conversation ranging from the critical to mundane all in an evening. We honed it just a bit more a day after I returned from my visit to the Seattle.
As usual I attended several Zoom lectures. The Oregon State Jewish Heritage Museum puts on a considerable number of historical ones, generally replete with photos from their archives. This season I viewed one on “The Last Train to Auschwitz” whereby Sarah Federman discussed the role a major railroad in transporting Jews to their final fate. The company which still exists today, was very deign to reveal records that implicated them in this human tragedy but times are changing. With the fall of the Iron Curtain, 30 plus years ago, more admission of responsibility has come forth.
In late May I viewed another from the same organization about the architect, Lawrence Halprin and his life especially as it pertained to Portland. Another Jewish history story, this time from the Brooklyn Center of History was about growing up Jewish in Brooklyn and featured a panel of three who discussed their early lives there. Roz Chast a New Yorker cartoonist, Isaak Mizrahi the clothes designer and artist Martin Lemelmen each told their stories but unfortunately two of the three talked quite disparaging about their early life. Only Lemelman spoke joyously about his early years in Brownsville. He and Ms Chast are close to my age and I could relate to parts of their stories about experiences of events that were also national phenomena. Mizrahi is noticeably younger and being gay, both enjoyed (or didn't) a youth considerably different than my own.
Brooke Shield's Father?
