The Lost Files Ch. 1: In Search of Hot Springs

10/24/08

The plan today was pretty simple. Head to Estacada for a round of disc golf at Milo McIver State Park, then proceed southeast to Bagby Hot Springs for a soak.

I generally don’t enjoy paying for disc golf, but this park had good reviews and when I got there, I found that there was an machine taking the money, so I dumped a couple of rolls of nickles in and was on my way. It was an impressive course. Lot’s of big trees and elevation changes.

Having finished the 18 holes in impressive fashion, I felt very deserving of a visit to the hot springs. Bagby is a natural hot spring that is sourced from mineral rich water reaching up to 136 degrees at the sorce. It is located well into Mt. Hood National Forest, so I mapped out the directions and headed out.

The directions seemed simple enough and yet somewhere along the way, I must have missed a turn because before I knew it, I was in Detroit. Oregon that is…

After a quick fill up and remapping of directions, I headed back into the woods to give it another shot. What I didn’t realize was how close to sunset it was. Within no time, I found myself driving on dark, unlit, pot holed heavy dirt roads so narrow that the brush was scraping at both sides of  the VW. Most of what I saw before I gave up for the night and turned back to detroit looked like this:

Maybe I should have asked for directions...

Tired, dejected, and starting to smell a little, I headed back to Detroit, still trying to figure out if I would make another attempt tomorrow.

Anybody still listening?

Oct. 1, 2009

Well, by the time this gets read, it will be a year since I set off on the odyssey, and I feel I owe whoever may still be reading this an apology.  While I am not without a short list of excuses why I did not finish the blog earlier, the fact remains that a year later, I am apparently still in Portland.

As much as I may have been tempted, I did not set up camp in Oregon, but rather traveled onward, and would eventually make it back home to Ferndale. Whether it is for myself or my readers, I feel like this being the anniversary, some closure is owed, as this trip was an important chapter in my life.

The tone from here on out will be unavoidably, different. I simply can’t remember everything with as much detail as has been given thus far, however, I will attempt to relay the experiences with as much acuracy as much as possible.

The good news is that I had the foresight to write a few blogs ahead, so I have six days written from last fall while still on the road! From there, I’m afraid the days will tend to become condensed and greatly summarized, but hopefully the story will be complete before long.

That’s all for tonight. As this is still the eve of departure for me, I plan to post the first of the “lost files” tomorrow (Oct. 2) with pictures intact!

-Rob

The Blast Zone

10/21/08

I decided to put off hitting the coast a little longer. Mt. St. Helens was relatively close by, and prospect of visiting a volcano that had a major eruption the same year I was born was too tempting to pass up. Besides, I figured the coast will probably still be there no matter how far South I go.

It’s an interesting drive along the road to the Johnston Ridge Observatory. At one point you pass a sign that reads “Entering Blast Zone”. All of the trees beyond this point have obviously been planted at the same time and it’s strange to see an entire “forest” of trees exactly the same age. As you approach the observatory, the landscape changes even more dramatically as the area has been kept exactly as Mt. St. Helens left it in 1980. In order to show the impact the blast had on the area, the trees have been left, sawn over by the blast, and splintered just a couple feet above the ground.

The facility at the end of the road is quite well done. There is a short film showing, step by step all the events that happened during the 1980 eruptions. It manages to be very informative, with being too cheesy or over the top.

Heading back west towards I-5, I was treated to another nice photo opportunity as the sun was setting.

I continued South stopping in Vancouver, WA for the night.

Supersonic flying fish

10/20/08

So this morning I had my first hangover of the trip.

What made it worse is that I had set my alarm for 7:30 because parking enforcement begins at 8am. I crawled my way to the front seat and moved van around the corner to the day lot. I paid the $10 for the full day and composed myself for a while.

After making some food, I set out on foot toward the Pike Place Market. Pike’s is a somewhat famous shopping complex. It’s three floors of open air seafood and produce stands, souvenir shops, restaurants, bars, cafes, and yes, even a brewery.

No. I did not drink any beer today.

One place that really stands out there is the Pike’s Place Fish Co. It famous for it’s friendly and boisterous staff. Oh, and the fact that just about every order of fish gets thrown through the air between two staff with very little warning.

Johnny Bench called for the squidball

After meandering through the market for a while, I headed over to a coffee shop for a while to blog a little and recharge myself for a while. After that I walked the city for a while.

Seattle has a good feel to it. The people there seem to be enjoying their lives a little more than what I am accustomed to. Of course there is a large population of homeless, but perhaps that even speaks to Seattle being a good place to live – home or no home.

I headed back to the van as it was turning to dusk. My final impression of Seattle was very positive. I can see why the city is so well regarded. It feels very vibrant, safe, and full of energy. There is a good mix of cultures that seem to have integrated very well. If that job had paid $20/hr I might have spent another day to consider it…

Unsure of where I was headed tomorrow, I parked at a motel in Centralia for the night to give it some thought.

Ok, fine. Here’s your picture of the space needle.

In the future, all buildings will be built like this. We will also have robot maids named Rosie.

Beer, Jazz, Pizza

10/18/08

Ok, so once I got into Washington State, I really started to get the itch to see the Pacific Ocean. I felt somehow drawn to it. I’m not really sure why, because I don’t surf, I’m not a great swimmer, and I’d rather not be attacked by a shark or a jellyfish or anything else of an oceanic nature. Nevertheless, I drove through the state on a mission. I didn’t stop for anything…….except Seattle.

I crossed city limits around dusk and was still holding on to the dream of driving non-stop until I hit salt water, but opted instead to drive around the city for a while. This being the first big city I had visited since I left, I was somewhat overwhelmed by the whole experience, and wasn’t sure if I could find a good place to stay the night. I had talked to Tina a few hours earlier and learned that she was on a day trip to Vancouver and would not return until tomorrow, so I was on my own.

As it was now dark, I headed out of the city and found a motel lot to stay the night in one of Seattle’s suburbs.

10/19/08

I got a hold of Tina this afternoon, and met up with her at a place called Chocolat Vitale. She had some studying to do, I had some blogging to catch up on, and this place had WiFi and really good chocolate. We chilled there for a while then headed out to meet up with her friends.

I’ll be up front. I drank a lot of beer that night. Apparently, when people find out you’re on a road trip around the country, they get this irresistible urge to buy you beer. Fortunately, and unlike South Dakota, I was able to repay a round here and there this time.

The first bar went hit had a wooden bar, wooden beams, and high-walled wooden booths with wooden seats. Nice place. In addition they had live music. It was a sax-drum duet that sounded somewhat like an experimental college jazz combo. I think it was the first time I ever heard avant garde jazz played live. Avant garde has the unique ability to ride the fence between entertaining and annoying. I can’t say that I really enjoyed it, but the performers were giving their all and that was enough to earn my respect.

The other members of the group were Brian, Joe, and Tim. Tim and I talked beer for quite some time and he was more than eager to suggest some good breweries as well as some individual beers. At some point during the night, Joe told me that he could probably get me a job in Seattle. I recall the words “scanning documents” and “$15/hr”. The idea of taking him up on his offer and living out of the van in Seattle for a while would play, on and off, through my cloudy head for the rest of the night. By the next morning, however, I decided to finish the trip. I thanked him for the offer and told him not to be surprised if I called him in a couple months on my way back out west.

The night continued with just Brian, Tina, and myself. We hit up an arcade for a while where I got to show off my Ms. Pacman skills before being humbled in Galaga. The final stop was for some pizza before I retired to the van. I would spend the night parked right on the streets of Downtown Seattle.

Big Sky Country

10/16/08

The western part of Montana, while nice, is very similar to the western part of Wyoming – lots of wide open ranch land. So, while I didn’t mind the drive along I-90, I didn’t exactly stop to smell the flowers along the way. This got me to Missoula in time to research a good brewpub.

The Kettlehouse Brewing Co. is the place to be if you ever stop through Missoula. At least, it’s my kind of brewpub. No nonsense, and no frills. From where I sat, at the end of the bar, I could see directly into the operations of the business. Sacks of malted barley, staff hosing down the floor, and even a fork lift were a mere ten feet away. It felt very much like a brewery that just happened to have a bar in it.

The people were as diverse as the beer selection. Students, artists, mothers meeting with their children in tow, and men approaching retirement age were a few of the clientele that patronized the business during my stay. I sipped on a Cold Smoke Scotch Ale and enjoyed doing a little people watching.

A curious thing about Montana law is that establishments that brew their own beer are limited to serving their customers no more than 48oz of beer per day. That’s three pints (this only includes beer drank on premises and not growlers to go). They keep track of this on a little piece of paper so as I enjoyed my Eddy’s Out Pale Ale, I had a tough decision to make.

Seeing that it was still quite early, I opted to leave, temporarily, for the Iron Horse. They did not brew, but had several local breweries on tap. While this place could not compare to the atmosphere over at the KH, I found a place at the bar anyway. I ordered up a pint of KH’s IPA and laughed to myself over the ridiculous nature of the “brewpub law”. I could sit and drink as many KH pints as I wanted to in this building, but walk down the street to the place that made it, and now I’m down to one for the rest of tonight.

During my stay, I also tried a beer from Big Sky Brewing. With names like Troutslayer and Moose Drool, I couldn’t resist. I had their IPA.

About this time, I started chatting to the guy next to me about beer. He, like many people in this part of the country, seemed to have a taste for more than the big macro breweries can offer. I learned his name was Erik, and he was on business from Corvallis, OR. Upon telling him of my adventure, he had all kinds of good beer advice for when I hit his state. We traded contact info and he invited me to look him up when I got around to his neck of the woods.

I headed out looking forward to enjoying my last pint at the KH only to find that they had closed. I checked the time. 9:45pm. I looked in the bar again. The chairs were on the bar. Does Montana law also require places that make good beer to close at insanly early hours too?

I felt gypped.

Oh well. I walked back to the van for the night, somewhat comforted by the fact that Erik had informed me that there were over 30 breweries in the state of Oregon.

Sorry, no pics from this leg of the trip, bu I did add some more to the Flickr page from Yellowstone.

Heyyyy, Boo Boo!

10/14/08

I must say, since I left the midwest, the weather has been near perfect. Sure, it’s rained from time to time, but it’s always managed to be sunny when I needed it to. I had anticipated having a number of days that I would be confined to the van or the nearest coffee shop. While i’m not complaining, I had sort of counted on some of that down time to keep up on reading, guitar playing, blogging…

Apparently Jackson really is in a hole. I hadn’t realized it arriving in the dark but the town is literally surrounded my mountains.

Would you believe this is a ski town?

I walked around the town for a while, stopping in the camera shop to pick up some film, then took off, anxious to see The Tetons in the daylight.

My friends Colin and Elizabeth had informed me that if The Black Hills, The Rockies, and The Tetons were related, The Black Hills would be the grandfather, The Rockies, the father, and The Tetons, the son. It’s not difficult to see why, because the peaks on The Tetons look as if they were just formed yesterday and have had no time to erode.

These are the grandest Tetons I have ever seen.

After pulling off at a few viewpoints, it was time for the main event – Yellowstone National Park.

This is of course the granddaddy of all the national parks. The one I’ve been waiting for. The one that all other national parks bow before. The one…ok you get the idea.

Entering Yelowstone, I was overwhelmed with images of the wonders that lay ahead. Boiling mud pools, spouting geysers, colorful hot springs, and new wild life consumed my thoughts.

Ok. Fine. I’ll admit it. Images of Yogi Bear on his quest to steal pick-i-nick baskets found their way into my head too…

The first stop was the West Thumb Geysey Basin.

The acidity of some of the springs here is enough to burn through boots.

The temptation to post too many pictures here is great. You’ll just have to visit the Flickr page to see them all.

The next major stop on the map was Old Faithful. However, an impuse to turn into Kepler Cascade overcame me, so I had to investigate.

It turned out to be a good decision for a couple of reasons. First, after risking life, limb and equipment once again, I got some nice shots from the bottom of the falls.

After making the climb back up to take some shots from above, I met a girl named Tina. She seemed interested in the fact that I had climbed all the way down just to take some pictures and we struck up a conversation.

As it turns out she was on a roadtrip from Texas up to Seattle with her companion Whiskey.

Fellow travelers

As we were both headed in the same direction through Yellowstone, we decided it would be fun to caravan. Upon arrival to Old Faithful, she was smart enough to bring some bread and cheese to snack on since the geyser only goes off every 90 minutes on average.

We continued up to Mammoth Springs that night thinking that there were springs available to bathe in, but as it turns out, they’re spewing out sulpher like the rest of them. She ended up joining me for dinner later, which consisted of peanut butter and jelly, soup, and beans and rice. Seeing as she was sleeping in her pickup truck, with Whiskey, I offered up the top bunk of the Vanagon, but Whiskey wanted to go home to the truck.