The Yellow Brick Road: Oregon trip

Megan (black) and Clare (red)

At First Wednesday

Creepy photo taken at First Wednesday

After skipbo, we played Indian poker.

• September 2, our anniversary, we got on a train from Tacoma, Washington to Salem Oregon to visit my aunt Pam and our friend Lindsay. I prefer trains to other forms of public transportation because instead of being stuck in a cramped and uncomfortable seat for hours on end, trains provide options such as dining cars and viewing rooms.
• Pam met us at the station, we dropped off our bags, met her adorable long-haired dachshund babies, Megan and Clare and headed off to a Mexican food restaurant. We haven’t yet officially celebrated our two-year anniversary properly, but the evening was nice arrival celebration never-the-less.
• The next morning was filled with drama and hysterics after receiving the devastating news concerning Kyle's increasingly absent diploma. Part of the purpose of our holiday in Oregon was to visit with our good friend Lindsay whom we met and befriended in Chile on our volunteer program. . We were to meet up with Lindsay later in the day so it was necessary that we lasso our emotions into a controlled and calm coral so as not to ruin our time together. It was actually very helpful just spending time with her to distract us from negative thoughts.
• That evening we attended Salem’s “first Wednesday” which is similar to Austin’s “First Thursday” or San Antonio’s “First Friday.” Artists and musicians lined the streets, and we wound in and out of shops. Kyle and I had been to Salem once before with our dear friends Will and Leslie, the year after we graduated high school, so many of the shops carried a sense of nostalgia of our time before.
• As a tribute to our time in Chile, after wandering downtown, we came back to the house to enjoy a game of skipbo with wine and cheese.
• The following day was by all definitions a lazy day. We slept in late, ate out, and watched “Over the Hedge,” until Lindsay had to catch her train.
• Friday evening we had dinner with Pam’s friend Sherry, and their boyfriends. Sherry fixed a Norwegian cod fish recipe and roasted veggies. It was decedent but I guarantee it would not be found in Cooking Light. Sherry’s boyfriend George is an obstetrician, therefore a great reference for all things medical. I spent much of the evening interrogating him on topics ranging from South American diseases to the link between autism and vaccinations to health care reformation. It was a wonderful evening of satisfying food, and stimulating conversation. Hopefully I didn’t go overboard with the questions, but I have so many questions about the field of medicine I sometimes think I should go to med school just to quench my curiosity.
• Saturday began as a sluggish day with everyone including Pam, sleeping in until past 11:00 am. We had failed to make plans ahead of time and we languidly discussed our possible plans as we laid around the rooms moving at the pace of slugs. By 2:00 we had piled our bodies, bags, and dogs into the car for a trip to the beach. Weather channel said there was a high of 79, sunny with a breeze. Once again, we were failed by weather channel, and the only remaining truth to the prediction was the “breeze” which was actually more of a forceful, chilling wind. The girls (dogs) were very anxious on the ride to the beach since their only association with the car was the evil vet.
• The drive, bordered by tall evergreens, was beautiful, sunny and scenic, however as soon as we neared the beach, the sun was kidnapped by the ever hungry cloud of whiteness. Past the first break point of waves, the ocean no longer existed as far as we could tell. It billowed in, streaming over itself like lava from the sky, covering the cliffs, the sky and the ocean, creating a mystical and eerie setting. The girls didn’t seem to mind however, and bounced in the sand like bunny rabbits. They burrowed in the sanddunes, attempting to discover and play with any rodent or creature hiding in the tall grass. Luckily non were found.
• Sunday was our last day with Aunt Pam. The day began with a church service in the shaded area, under the trees, in the lawn of the church. The choir, which Pam is a part of, structured themselves around the congregation, rather than in one grouping, creating the illusion that the congregation sang beautifully. A brass band played old American style gospel music. The service was followed by a potluck in the park beside the church. After church we jumped in the car and headed out to the oldest growth forest left in Oregon, Willemette National Forest. This forest is highly coveted by the lumber companies because it is the one of the last remaining old growth forests left in Oregon, meaning prime wood, for a high price. Many of the lumber mills have had to lay off workers, which is unfortunate for the workers but it is important that this forest be left to the people and nature.
• Leaving Oregon is sad, but we know we will be back again.