Woke up this morning beneath a low, slate-gray sky, with rain hanging in the air and a sharp chill settling in. Back home, friends would suffer beneath a blazing 99 degree sun, while I was enjoying a pleasant 64 degrees. Barb, of course, thought it was freezing—but then, anything below 80 qualifies as too cold in her book. The shorts that had been the uniform of the day were suddenly headed back into the suitcase, as jeans took front and center.
Against our better judgment, we headed down for the complimentary breakfast. Once again, better judgment got the last laugh. I had always assumed it was difficult to make scrambled eggs completely tasteless. Then I remembered that some people refuse to let difficulty stand in their way. The eggs left us with just enough hunger to make a wiser decision later in the day.
When we travel, we try to schedule a housekeeping day every week or so. On longer trips, that might include haircuts and perhaps a car service. On shorter trips, it usually boils down to laundry. Today, it was laundry. While Barb handled that task, I caught up on a few odds and ends.
With no particular plan in mind, we took off to drive somewhere. Somewhere eventually took us past our old Portland house. I had that house built in 1985, and it still looked much as we remembered. From there, our next “somewhere” led us to Washington Square, the large indoor shopping mall that had seen plenty of us in years long ago.
The next hour or so was spent walking the mall. We call this “getting in our steps,” and it can happen anywhere there is open indoor space. Remember the Arizona heat—hence the indoor part. This exercise is usually done to make up for some past indulgence, such as a particularly memorable meal.
Today, however, we were getting ahead of the problem. Tonight’s destination was McMenamins John Barleycorns Pub, where a Dungeon Burger and a Terminator Stout were waiting. We weren’t exactly walking off dinner; we were building up credit. For a meal like that, I was willing to put in every step necessary.
As noon approached, our thoughts naturally turned to lunch. The question was where to go—and what we could split. Firehouse Subs seemed like an easy choice, especially since we already knew they served good sandwiches back home. But as we sat in the car, something about the plan suddenly felt wrong. Before we could even get out, “this isn’t right” took over. A quick search and a short drive later, we found ourselves at the Elephants Deli in Lake Oswego. Oh, what a great decision that turned out to be. We split what may have been the best Reuben sandwich ever, along with a bag of chips and a Diet Coke. If you’re ever in the area and have a craving for a truly great Reuben, this is the place to go.
After lunch, we started looking for a gas station. After 20 minutes or so of fighting traffic, we finally checked our travel plan and discovered that tomorrow’s drive totaled only 98 miles. With 238 miles still left in the tank, the need for gas suddenly didn’t seem quite so urgent. We changed course and headed back to our overnight.
Once there, Barb elected to take a nap. I would have happily joined her, except I decided to get a head start on the blog. Writing these daily updates takes about two hours. That seems like a lot of time for such a short post, but I tend to overthink everything—write, rewrite, and then go back and change a few words here and there.
Two things make the process even more challenging. First is the very small keyboard I have to work with. While convenient for travel, its small size and lack of a numerical pad make it harder to work with. Second, I use an iPad as my screen, and after a while, the small display and even smaller print can become tiring to read.
We met our son Jeff and his wife, Anita, at the John Barleycorn Pub for dinner, and once again, neither the company nor the food and drink disappointed. Barb and I split the excellent Dungeon Burger, a satisfying choice with plenty of flavor. I paired mine with a Terminator Stout—dark, robust, and perhaps best avoided if you still had important decisions to make that evening. Barb chose a Ruby instead, a lighter, less potent option that offered a refreshing contrast.
Tomorrow we reverse course and head south along the Oregon and California coasts, with the Pacific stretching beside us in shifting shades of blue and gray and the salty air filling the car. Our next overnight stop will be at the Inn at Otter Crest, where we will settle in, breathe in the ocean air, and enjoy the sweeping view before another day of watching waves roll toward the shore and savoring fresh seafood.
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