Oregon & Washington
When I arrived in Portland to see my sister, Chrissie to me but Charlie to everyone in Portland, we began a great week of delicious food and great drinks with a super fun eating and drinking crawl around her neighborhood; from rilettes to Thai — so much delicious food I can’t even remember. Next day, we went into Willamette Valley, Dundee Hills for wine tasting. We rented movies from the rather famous Movie Madness, we stopped at a cute cheese and wine spot. While we did laundry at the local laundromat, we stopped for a lemon curd and berry crepe at a little Creperie. The most special and memorable food experience was one evening Chrissie treated me to Coquine. Our mom had sent her a gift certificate for her birthday and she generously wanted to share with me. We were super satisfied and delighted not only by the food, but by the service, ambiance, and all the lovely details.
Chrissie is a bartender at Paley’s Place, a lovely restaurant in a house on a corner in Northwest Portland. I visited for happy hour, sat at the bar and watched Chrissie make cocktails she’s invented and met her coworkers, all very nice people. Later, I met up with my old high school friend, Kathryn, for dinner at her place. Kathryn showed me her adorable garden and sent me off with homegrown heirloom tomatoes after a very nice catch-up chat. Chrissie would come home after work where I’d be on the couch, writing or working on something and watching a movie. We’d stay up late watching and chatting and then I’d go to my van in her parking lot to sleep. Mornings we often did yoga and Chrissie would make us a lovely brunch meal.
I was really beginning to love Portland by this point and wasn’t all that excited to leave it. Because I had rerouted due to all the wildfires, I was left with a gaping hole in my plan. I didn’t want to leave Portland at all, but staying was also starting to feel weird, since I didn’t have my own spot and I was just spending money. I was really bothered by my lack of motivation and interest going north, but I decided to head to Seattle. I left too late in the day after stopping for provisions and I only made it as far as Tacoma when it started raining and it was already dark out. I decided a movie was just what I needed and pulled off to see “Juliet, Naked” in a cool little theater and then stealth camped outside a 24-hour diner.
Having had time to sit and look up what to do in Seattle, and connecting with another Denver transplant, I started the day meeting Danielle, who gave me great tips on things to do in the area. The drive into Seattle was less than an hour and I headed to Pike Place Market after I parallel-parked the van like a champ. Free Sunday street parking!
I walked along, stopping at Starbucks Reserve, because why not….then down a big staircase where I saw Post Alley, and headed in, shortly thereafter accidentally coming upon the Gum Wall. It was funny, and a little gross, to see brightly colored gum stuck all over the walls of the alley. Then I was at Pike Place Farmer’s Market. It was bustling with seafood and flower shoppers as well as tourists roaming all the halls and levels. After walking through half of it, I went up to the French restaurant Chrissie recommended. Le Pichet is a cute, very authentically French bistro where I sat at the narrow bar and talked a little with a cute blond guy with a 1910’s mustache. I settled on sardine-beet terrine and a glass of rosé, but I didn’t know why I was drinking… it wasn’t even 2pm. I felt alright there, but started getting meloncholy, already tired of being alone, and not sure what to do with the rest of the day.
I then walked back through other parts of the market when a real sadness descended. Tears starting streaming and was unable to stop them. A rain storm was coming in and I didn’t know what to do with myself so I walked a little farther and stopped in a coffee shop to waste some time and take shelter. The sad thoughts just wouldn’t quit. I hated crying in public, not feeling adventurous, being indecisive, that I prefer plans rather than none at all, but mostly… I don’t like being alone. Then I realized it all felt like a microcosm of my life and that sparked a whole new wave of upset.
I eventually got most of that out and decided to walk to the Space Needle. It was a long walk, but a nice one. The ride up cost $32 so I decided not to do that, and instead headed down to Olympic Sculpture Garden, which the bartender had suggested. It was a super windy afternoon, but the sun made it just warm enough. I had started messaging my friend I’m going to see in Australia soon, Amelia, and she cheered me up a bit and by the time I reached my van, I was feeling more myself.
I was playing with the ideas of going to Vancouver or down into Whidbey Island. I found a Mexican restaurant in Edmonds, and after delicious Tostadas and a Negro Modelo, I had a plan. I decided that driving more north was too much driving for the short time I had, and getting to Vancouver just meant spending money, and I didn’t feel inspired to drive all the way down into Whidbey. I found a campground right near Olympic National Forest and made a reservation for 2 nights and although it was already dark out, I began driving.
I listened to great podcasts, including TED Radio Hour’s “Decisions, Decisions, Decisions” which was perfectly poignant for me. Malcom Gladwell talked about how useless it is to worry about things which we cannot know the outcomes. The podcast host, Guy Roz, is much more like me, an overthinker, worrier about what to choose. Malcolm just laughed and pointed out that you can never know what you could have experienced, so just choose because whatever happens will happen. I know I’ve heard it before, but it really hit home this time. Why the hell do I worry so much? Enough, I thought, enough!
I didn’t arrive until 10:30pm and was stunned to see a practically empty campground. I slept so well I overslept, opting to stay warm under my blankets. My little Wyoming thermometer magnet told me it was 50 degrees in the van. I was nestled in a pretty thick, very tall pine forest, with the ground smothered in pine needles, giving the earth a lumpy blanketed look. I got ready and headed off to find information about what to do in Olympic. I hadn’t realized before that the main area of Olympic was way up north by Port Angeles, a three-hour drive, which was not what I imagined for my day. I found another info spot back the way I had come, so I drove in and chatted with the lady there, who suggested the Staircase area for a day trip since it was just a bit past my campground the other direction.
After stopping for ice and some van cleanup, I went up the windy forest road and then passed off the pavement onto a dirt road along the absolutely gorgeous Lake Cushman with forested mountains on both sides. The road deteriorated the farther I went and I started get concerned for my tires. Finally I made it to the ranger station and parking area there and went in to chat about hikes. The ranger made it sound like there was just one hike there, a 2 mile loop at the other end of a bridge I could see. So, I grabbed my backpack and camera and set off.
It was an eerie but beautiful place. Moss was growing over many trees, dangling like tarantula legs, and ferns, lichen, and moss covered the ground. Everything was green and most of it was wet. The trees were very tall and the sun coming in was just lovely. It was quite chilly and damp sometimes, then it would open up a little and was drier and warmer. I passed a trail post with no sign, but I noticed someone had carved “YOU ARE HERE” into it. Cheeky, I thought. Before the loop finished, I saw a sign for an offshoot just over a mile longer, and though it was a small thing, the worrier in me might choose not to go. Another speaker in the podcast the night before talked about making decisions based on who we want to be. The woman I wanted to be wasn’t a worrier, she was an adventurer, so I took the offshot trail. This trail wasn’t as well maintained or traveled, and more than a few times I felt like the regular, worrying me would just go back when the brush was too thick or the spiderwebs too numerous, or when the trail was actually crossing a rocky stream in the mountainside, or when I couldn’t even figured out where the trail next went, I chose to keep going until I really lost the trail… but then I concluded I had actually reached the end, there just wasn’t a sign to tell me so. But it led to a lovely bank at the stream and I had completed a little self improvement exercise. On the way back, I passed the signless post again. This time, “YOU ARE HERE” meant so much more. It struck me as a mantra. Instead of worrying about the future that I cannot predict and have no control over, or being upset about the past and what I wish I could’ve done differently, I should just be - here, me, as I am, in the present.
I drove back and parked at one of the little turnouts by the lake to enjoy the view with a sandwich, and to break up the terrible dirt road journey. After a while, I headed back to camp in hopes of a hot shower and then a proper setup to cook dinner, and maybe even try building a fire. Turns out, the only shower seemed to need coins to make hot water come out and I didn’t have any. I bought firewood and hauled it back to my site on foot, getting a little extra exercise. I tried a good honest try but I could not produce a fire without some kind of starter. I’m not an experienced fire builder anyway, but I thought I knew the proper concept. It looked like it was working at one point but it went out quickly. I pulled out the propane tank and dinner supplies and set it all up on the picnic table. The campground was so quiet. I had some music on for a while and pretty much enjoyed my solo cooking time. I made miso soup with too much seaweed and grilled shishito peppers and onions. Eating warm soup as the temperature dropped into the evening was comforting. Usually, when the true Fall season begins, it still feels like summer. But here in Washington it was cool and leaves were already changing, so it felt right that Fall was just a few days away.
This time, I set my alarm for 7:30, hoping to get an earlier start to head toward Mount Rainier National Park. I stopped at an espresso hut and with an Americano in hand, stopped to put air in the tires and gas in the tank, a whopping $3.45/gallon in these parts, and headed to Olympia. I wanted to call my dad, it was his birthday, and charge the laptop I had drained the night before. After nailing parallel parking again, I dropped into a local spot and called my dad and step-mom. An hour and forty minutes later, my laptop was at 97%, I had caught up with my folks, and they had booked me 5 days at a timeshare in Santa Fe! I’m so excited!! I kept thinking of who I could invite to join me but no, it will be a great time for art, writing, and working on my project ideas. I’m just thrilled they are doing that for me, and it’ll be 5 nights where I won’t have to worry or pay for sleeping, or cooking or showering.
I drove to Mount Rainier and as soon as you drive under the sign, the road changes and it’s lined with thick, huge pines on both sides. I stopped briefly in Longmire and then on to Paradise as the road climbed and wound up and up, the scenery changing drastically every few minutes. Mount Rainer, the closer I got, was obscured partially, and then completely, by clouds. But the opposite side was breathtaking, too, with jagged sharp peaks not unlike Grand Tetons. I pulled into a large picnic area and was the only one there. I sat with my back to the sun, getting warmed and feeling quite happy. As I was tidying up to leave, beautiful black and navy jays started flying all about, looking for crumbs.
Paradise wasn’t much farther up the road, pretty steepled buildings at the base of what I guessed was Rainier, though it was entirely cloaked by grey cloud. In the Visitors Center I spoke with a cool ranger who suggested some great hikes and agreed that the campground was likely still available. But it was getting pretty chilly so I opted to grab my laptop and sit in the historic lodge in an armchair by the warm fire. I sat for over an hour, writing this. I went outside and it was already quite different, the clouds that were just blanketing Mount Rainier were now low across the sky. I got spot at Cougar Rock campground and sat at my picnic table unti it got dark out. I noticed lots of other vans and campers and wondered at how people meet other people and make friends doing this. It doesn’t seem natural or easy. Being a solo female, I’m certainly not enthusiastic about walking up to strangers.
The next day, I planned to start off earlier and do the Skyline Trail but in the morning it was overcast so I didn’t rush. I made tea and grilled bread for avocado toast, and was glad I had boiled several eggs back at Chrissie’s. Then it occured to me it could be clearer higher up so I climbed the road to Paradise and sure enough, it was clear at the Visitors Center and I could see all of Mount Rainier, in all it’s glacier-clad glory. But after I stopped in to change my clothes at the lodge, I came out and it was already clouding over there, too. I dropped in the Visitors Center and saw the same ranger that helped me the day before, and chatted him up about whether I should hike Skyline. I had read that the east side is usually clearer and he confirmed it would likely be a better hike if I was willing to drive up there. It’s almost a 2-hour drive to the northeastern area of the park, but then I would also feel like I got to see the entire area by the time I exited down the southeastern entrance. So I decided I would do it, and set off down the beautiful road to Sunrise.
Once there, I gathered lots of layers for the wind and elevation, a warm hat and my ballcap, rain coat, gloves, sunscreen, water, snacks. I finally felt like I was prepared, like I was becoming a hiker, for real. I took the Borroughs Trail for the first half, which was lovely with its sweeping views of rolling mountains in the distance, but the trail itself was just craggy and rocky, some it rather scarily so. It climbed steeply to summit First Borroughs, which wasn’t an interesting peak, it was just a wide, rounded, scree sort of peak, but I love it when the clouds look like they touch the ground. Then up to Second Burroughs, which is about 7400 ft and sits just below Mount Rainier. I found a stone bench someone had built on the summit and claimed it, taking in the view. As I watched, the clouds parted just long enough to see the rocky peak. But really, it was not a beautiful place, compared to the greener hills below, and glaciers never interested me much, really looking like snow rather than powerful forces of nature they are.
I took the southern Sunrise Trail back down, which was certainly still rocky but trees and flowers nestled in the mountainside. I hoped to see mountain goats but never did. I passed into alpine meadows and met a family of deer, two young ones and a mother, eating plants on the trail just ahead of me. I slowly inched forward and they barely moved, allowing me to get very close. It was a wonderful and challenging hike, over 6 miles and 1000 ft elevation gain in the first half.
I headed back down the road, deciding to head out of the park and drive the 3 hours back into Portland. I thought of heading through Mt St Helens but it would’ve made my trip a couple of hours longer and I decided against it, it would be getting dark just about when I got there anyway. Also, a voice was reminding me that I could come back, if I live in Portland it will be very close…
I made it into Portland at 9pm, just in time to visit Chrissie at Paley’s Place for what was becoming my usual order of oysters and fries. Then I headed to her place for a badly needed shower, in which I fully revelled. That night I tried sleeping on her couch, ready for a break from the van bed, which had become very compressed and wasn’t comfortable anymore. I hoped a night’s break would fluff it back up and it did seem to. I stayed for a couple of days. I met up with Kathryn the next night and hopped on the back of her ‘76 Honda motorcycle to go see the Swifts roost in an elementary school chimney. They swirled and created all kinds of cool rotating undulations as they slowly funneled down into the chimney to sleep.
I sat and finally did another financial assessment and was horrified to see that I had already spent all my money. t wasn’t actually all gone, yet, but it would be with two more months of just bills and van payments. Which meant I have no extra, not even for gas. I wasn’t panicking, exactly, though, and I talked on the phone with my mom for a long time and she encouraged me to take advantage of the trip I was on, have the trip I imagined having, and then she’d help me figure it all out later. It didn’t feel smart exactly, to rack up debt… but she was saying what I wanted to hear and I decided I’d do that. I’d be more thrifty in other ways… More rest stops than campsites, less coffee, no more buying alcohol. But the day before I had decided to book a hotel room in Sequoia, as it was the night before my long flight to Australia and who knows when I’d find a shower before then. I thought about canceling it, but then decided not to.
Chris and I drank wine, ate ice cream and watched the final two Harry Potter movies after I cooked quinoa, peppers and onions, and lentils to make a salad I could take and eat cold. We stayed up late but it was fun. In the morning, I gathered things and said goodbye to my sister, feeling sad we didn’t really know when we’d see each other again. That was normal for us, but this had been the loveliest time I’ve ever spent with my older sister. This trip has been amazing for spending quality time with all kinds of people in my life.
I drove off to Bend, about three hours away, where I got out to walk around and see the town. Then I made it down to Crater Lake just in time for sunset, but was disappionted to arrive in an overcast evening. The lack of sunshine made the view of the giant lake flat and mostly colorless, and it was windy and quite cold there. But I drove the west side and up around the south piece for a quick walk to the Phantom Ship view. Just as I was about to head back to the van, I noticed a thick band of pink light on the west-facing rock. The clouds were high enough to let the brilliant pinks and oranges of the setting sun and smoky haze come through and it was quite spectacular. Noting yet another place I’d like to come back to earlier in the season, I left in the increasing darkness to find a place to park and camp. It felt too early to stay in for the rest of the night, so I ended up driving all the way into Ashland, where I found easy public parking in the downtown area. I wanted to catch up on writing and posting this blog for you, so I went to a Shakespearian bar and bought the cheapest beer as a reason to stay and work. I stayed there until 1am and after a little longer in the morning at a coffee shop, finally finished and published the last post you hopefully read.
(I’m actually finishing this post about a week ahead, at a charming coffee shop patio in Coarsegold, California.)