All the right ingredients for a fulfilling weekend.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Thursday, May 28, 2009
The End...a bit late
We did not make it to the Idaho border Sunday night. After manic desperation to see an interstate, we were content with Provo, UT at 2am. Our consensus was that we enjoy driving during the day drastically more than at night. We hate missing stuff because according to the map we were in the land of Zion, yet all we could enjoy was the road signs and road stripes. Delirium and slap happiness was entrenching our judgement and we laughed hysterically at a deer standing underneath a deer crossing sign. I said, "At least it knows where it is suppose to cross."
As we rolled our luggage across the Fairfield Inn foyer, we were never so happy to see four walls and a bed.
Monday dawned warm and sunny. Clouds danced around the mountain peaks. The final leg of the journey was before us. Pit stops were few and far between. We took a detour to see Shoshone Falls, an Oregon Trail landmark. We refused to pay the three dollar entrance fee for ten minutes of oohing and ahhing; besides we could do it from the viewpoint. We were a bit disappointed.
Our greatest find was that the Garden of Eden was in business, though a bit run down and the angels had been laid off due to budget cuts.
As we rolled our luggage across the Fairfield Inn foyer, we were never so happy to see four walls and a bed.
Monday dawned warm and sunny. Clouds danced around the mountain peaks. The final leg of the journey was before us. Pit stops were few and far between. We took a detour to see Shoshone Falls, an Oregon Trail landmark. We refused to pay the three dollar entrance fee for ten minutes of oohing and ahhing; besides we could do it from the viewpoint. We were a bit disappointed.
We had a spark of discovery upon seeing this elk, but then scoped the larger picture to find out that it was a petting zoo of sorts.
Our greatest find was that the Garden of Eden was in business, though a bit run down and the angels had been laid off due to budget cuts.
Landscape became a blur, conversation came in spurts, and the miles ticked down. At 1am, I pulled the CRV into the Banker parking spot. Our grand adventure was complete.
In reflection it was a fabulous four days. Zach and I love to travel together and once again this was reiterated. We played a mean case of license plate bingo; final tally: 45 states, 6 Canadian provinces and one almighty government vehicle. It may be a few days before I can eat PB&J. The United States is vast, and it is remarkable to think that we saw just a twinge of what it offers to the adventurer. We drove approximately 3,000 miles. Awesome.
In reflection it was a fabulous four days. Zach and I love to travel together and once again this was reiterated. We played a mean case of license plate bingo; final tally: 45 states, 6 Canadian provinces and one almighty government vehicle. It may be a few days before I can eat PB&J. The United States is vast, and it is remarkable to think that we saw just a twinge of what it offers to the adventurer. We drove approximately 3,000 miles. Awesome.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
The Power of "If we are that close, then...."
A few miles east of Tuba, AZ
Though this trip was schemed a few days prior to being stamped spontaneous, Zach and I should know better than to jump in a car with our adventurous spirit and ‘tentative’ destinations. Our mantra soon becomes, “If we are that close then…”
Initially our trip was to Salt Lake City. After a few friendly voices urged us check out Moab, we consented. But after looking at a map we realized we were only 60ish miles from Four Corners. We left our Sunday night motel plans unreserved so that we could end up where we would end up, but had the initial goal to return the way we had came.
We should have known better.
After leaving Four Corners, we drove into New Mexico just to be safe and say we had been in New Mexico. On our return drive, I mentioned nonchalantly that we could do a little loop to get back to Moab, where we wanted to hike a trail or two in the National Arches Park. Bent over the map, Zach said, “Look how close we are to the Grand Canyon. It is only 200 miles. We could be there in about three hours.” Some things just need to be left unsaid.
Miles from the Grand Canyon, we are watching a storm roll across the canyons. With our mocking humor we are jesting that of course on the day we are heading the canyon it will be raining. I retort that at this point a non-Portlander would respond, “But you are from Portland, you should be used to it.”
Just because we live there, it doesn’t mean we want it.
Heading towards Kanabe, UT
The sun sets on day three of our journey, as Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince audiobook fills the car. Contentment sates us after an afternoon of exhilarating sights. We had seen pictures and heard stories, but nothing could have prepared us for the breathtaking landscape known as the Grand Canyon. Mouths agape, we hopped from view point to viewpoint snapping pictures, blubbering about the vastness and beauty, and continuing our game of license plate bingo. The hours flew by and too soon we had found ourselves at the end of the South Rim road. Quite satisfied with our impromptu detour, we turned the car north.
Though this trip was schemed a few days prior to being stamped spontaneous, Zach and I should know better than to jump in a car with our adventurous spirit and ‘tentative’ destinations. Our mantra soon becomes, “If we are that close then…”
Initially our trip was to Salt Lake City. After a few friendly voices urged us check out Moab, we consented. But after looking at a map we realized we were only 60ish miles from Four Corners. We left our Sunday night motel plans unreserved so that we could end up where we would end up, but had the initial goal to return the way we had came.
We should have known better.
After leaving Four Corners, we drove into New Mexico just to be safe and say we had been in New Mexico. On our return drive, I mentioned nonchalantly that we could do a little loop to get back to Moab, where we wanted to hike a trail or two in the National Arches Park. Bent over the map, Zach said, “Look how close we are to the Grand Canyon. It is only 200 miles. We could be there in about three hours.” Some things just need to be left unsaid.
Miles from the Grand Canyon, we are watching a storm roll across the canyons. With our mocking humor we are jesting that of course on the day we are heading the canyon it will be raining. I retort that at this point a non-Portlander would respond, “But you are from Portland, you should be used to it.”Just because we live there, it doesn’t mean we want it.
Heading towards Kanabe, UT
The sun sets on day three of our journey, as Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince audiobook fills the car. Contentment sates us after an afternoon of exhilarating sights. We had seen pictures and heard stories, but nothing could have prepared us for the breathtaking landscape known as the Grand Canyon. Mouths agape, we hopped from view point to viewpoint snapping pictures, blubbering about the vastness and beauty, and continuing our game of license plate bingo. The hours flew by and too soon we had found ourselves at the end of the South Rim road. Quite satisfied with our impromptu detour, we turned the car north.
Sagebrush inches its way into the terrain, overtaking the vivid red walls. The canyon walls silhouette black against the mute sunset. For many the day may be done, but for us the mass drive session is in its infancy. Our goal is the Idaho border, depending on stamina of the driver.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
We Drove Through the Desert...and it rained
Somewhere between SLC and Moab
Dirty sagebrush speckles the desolate landscape, with striped, red tinted mountains providing the backdrop. Highway 191 meanders before us, the yellow middle stripe providing the stark contrast against the mute browns and grays. The rain doesn’t even seem to tame the dust.
In order to provide an adequate soundtrack to our journey, I must have the computer hooked to a tuner thing, which corresponds with our radio. Our CD supply was ample at the beginning, but as the CDs took their turn, many ended their road trip status, and essentially their existence, due to severe skipping. At each pit stop we lose a few more.
Our morning in Salt Lake City was pleasant. We toured a couple non-Mormon cathedrals, relishing in a comfortable sanctuary. We then visited our friend, Matt and Suzanne’s house. Approximately a month ago Suzanne found out that she would complete her residency at University of Utah. They have already secured residency in the city, and while they were gallivanting with Mickey Mouse we gallivanted in the yard of their soon to be home. It is a fabulous house and amazing neighborhood. We are quite ecstatic for them and their new adventure.
Our last stop in Salt Lake was the lake itself. Zach can officially say that he has been to the two saltiest points in the world. However, according to him, Salt Lake is loads stinkier. With salty sludge in between our toes, we traipsed back to the car bound for our next destination.
Monticello Inn, evening
After dipping through majestic canyons, we rolled into the red lands around 4:30pm. The late afternoon sunlight danced on the red, rugged canyons morphing the colors from vibrant to quite mute and deep. Though my logic reinforces the “rocks are hard” lesson, my mind sees pliable piles of play dough waiting to be meshed, squished, and enjoyed.
Upon entering Moab, the town screams “Come play!” My inner adventurer yearned to lace up the shoes, don the pack and trudge to a unique overlook. By voicing this comment aloud, it prompted a micro vs. macro/hiking vs. car conversation between us. It reminded me that though Zach and I are very different, we are a healthy balance.
Moab was a delightful pit stop. Keeping with our 2009 goal, we found a huge art festival. The wares had the southwestern motif, yet the overall feel was of Portland Saturday Market. We laughed that we have been spoiled by Portland. While we perused the stalls, we watched the western sky with a wary eye.
Lightning could be seen in our peripheral vision and thunder rumbled every so often. The vibrant contrast between black sky and red rock was astounding. Once a few drops speckled our heads, we decided to beeline for the vehicle. Before we reached our goal, The Moab Diner, the sky unleashed and the clouds dropped their weight. We squealed with delight since we had not seen such a rain in quite a few years.
After our meal we headed to Monticello for the evening. Our pace was slowed due to the remnants of flash flooding on the roads. But it was ok because we watched this rainbow for miles.
Dirty sagebrush speckles the desolate landscape, with striped, red tinted mountains providing the backdrop. Highway 191 meanders before us, the yellow middle stripe providing the stark contrast against the mute browns and grays. The rain doesn’t even seem to tame the dust.
In order to provide an adequate soundtrack to our journey, I must have the computer hooked to a tuner thing, which corresponds with our radio. Our CD supply was ample at the beginning, but as the CDs took their turn, many ended their road trip status, and essentially their existence, due to severe skipping. At each pit stop we lose a few more.
Our morning in Salt Lake City was pleasant. We toured a couple non-Mormon cathedrals, relishing in a comfortable sanctuary. We then visited our friend, Matt and Suzanne’s house. Approximately a month ago Suzanne found out that she would complete her residency at University of Utah. They have already secured residency in the city, and while they were gallivanting with Mickey Mouse we gallivanted in the yard of their soon to be home. It is a fabulous house and amazing neighborhood. We are quite ecstatic for them and their new adventure.
Our last stop in Salt Lake was the lake itself. Zach can officially say that he has been to the two saltiest points in the world. However, according to him, Salt Lake is loads stinkier. With salty sludge in between our toes, we traipsed back to the car bound for our next destination.
Monticello Inn, evening
After dipping through majestic canyons, we rolled into the red lands around 4:30pm. The late afternoon sunlight danced on the red, rugged canyons morphing the colors from vibrant to quite mute and deep. Though my logic reinforces the “rocks are hard” lesson, my mind sees pliable piles of play dough waiting to be meshed, squished, and enjoyed.
Upon entering Moab, the town screams “Come play!” My inner adventurer yearned to lace up the shoes, don the pack and trudge to a unique overlook. By voicing this comment aloud, it prompted a micro vs. macro/hiking vs. car conversation between us. It reminded me that though Zach and I are very different, we are a healthy balance.
Moab was a delightful pit stop. Keeping with our 2009 goal, we found a huge art festival. The wares had the southwestern motif, yet the overall feel was of Portland Saturday Market. We laughed that we have been spoiled by Portland. While we perused the stalls, we watched the western sky with a wary eye.
Lightning could be seen in our peripheral vision and thunder rumbled every so often. The vibrant contrast between black sky and red rock was astounding. Once a few drops speckled our heads, we decided to beeline for the vehicle. Before we reached our goal, The Moab Diner, the sky unleashed and the clouds dropped their weight. We squealed with delight since we had not seen such a rain in quite a few years.
After our meal we headed to Monticello for the evening. Our pace was slowed due to the remnants of flash flooding on the roads. But it was ok because we watched this rainbow for miles.
Friday, May 22, 2009
Going to the Temple...
At the pace of 80 mph, the pavement slid underneath the CRV with eloquence. Zach relished in the freedom of a world where people knew how to drive and do it with stylish speed, while I took in the sights, navigated, fed the pilot Twizzlers, and provided the trip soundtrack.
The hours passed quickly, and states came and went.
Stomachs growled and the legs needed stretching, so we stopped mere miles before Utah to eat lunch.
By 6pm we had rolled into Salt Lake City, checked into our hotel, regained our bearings, and headed to the streets of SLC.
Our first stop was the Utah capitol building. Amazingly, it was open so we were able to gawk and be mesmerized by the marble architecture.
Another surprise was that the Temple Square was open and primed for business at 7:15pm. The skirt clad missionaries were more than willing to show us their Jesus.
We took the tour, listened to their testimony, and marveled at the structural designs.
However, the oppression was real and by the time our tour was complete my stomach was quite squirmy and we were flinging the heebie jeebies away in our head. But, Zach in his full master reverendship could not pass the opportunity to have a picture taken with the holy trinity.
Day two of the Banker road trip has come to a close. It has been tremendous thus far, and we are looking forward to the lower part of Utah tomorrow.
Pit Stops: 6
Lesson learned/ing: A new camera is a blessing; trying to work it is a curse. May the day come soon when the focus will be on our faces and not our knees or a fly.
The hours passed quickly, and states came and went.
Stomachs growled and the legs needed stretching, so we stopped mere miles before Utah to eat lunch.
By 6pm we had rolled into Salt Lake City, checked into our hotel, regained our bearings, and headed to the streets of SLC.
Our first stop was the Utah capitol building. Amazingly, it was open so we were able to gawk and be mesmerized by the marble architecture.
Another surprise was that the Temple Square was open and primed for business at 7:15pm. The skirt clad missionaries were more than willing to show us their Jesus.
We took the tour, listened to their testimony, and marveled at the structural designs.
However, the oppression was real and by the time our tour was complete my stomach was quite squirmy and we were flinging the heebie jeebies away in our head. But, Zach in his full master reverendship could not pass the opportunity to have a picture taken with the holy trinity. 
By this time we had worked up an appetite and went on the search for a highly, locally recommended restaurant. We were not disappointed--FABULOUS Mexican food.
Day two of the Banker road trip has come to a close. It has been tremendous thus far, and we are looking forward to the lower part of Utah tomorrow.
Pit Stops: 6
Lesson learned/ing: A new camera is a blessing; trying to work it is a curse. May the day come soon when the focus will be on our faces and not our knees or a fly.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Eastward, Yo!
At 4:36pm sharp I strolled into Zach’s office, primed and excited to be on the cusp of our adventure, yet one to-do item stood in the way. Earlier in the day I received a text saying, “Bring my Star Wars record.” Record in hand I walked into the office to be met with a vintage looking record player sitting on top of Zach’s cubicle fridge. Quite ceremoniously, he laid the record on the turntable. The coworkers emerged from the woodwork as the first strains of the infamous Star Wars Main Title filled the office. Arms flailing as though directing the mighty symphony, Zach relished in hearing the ‘original’ soundtrack in its rarest form.
Five minutes later we walked out the doors to freedom and the smell of the open road. An hour and a half later we sat on the side of the road as Zach’s received a speeding ticket. The open road was a bit tainted, and we were forced to see the sights at a much slower pace. Stupid Memorial Day cops and budget crisis’s all over the world. No mercy—just, “Have a great trip” from our Prince John of speed freedom and bank accounts.
An hour later we shook if off with a sunset pit stop.
Tonight we sit in the El Dorado Hotel, anxious for what tomorrow will bring.
Five minutes later we walked out the doors to freedom and the smell of the open road. An hour and a half later we sat on the side of the road as Zach’s received a speeding ticket. The open road was a bit tainted, and we were forced to see the sights at a much slower pace. Stupid Memorial Day cops and budget crisis’s all over the world. No mercy—just, “Have a great trip” from our Prince John of speed freedom and bank accounts.
An hour later we shook if off with a sunset pit stop.
Tonight we sit in the El Dorado Hotel, anxious for what tomorrow will bring.
McDonald's: 2
Gas Stations: 1
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Say Hello!
Dearest readers,
I am proud to introduce the newest member to the Banker clan--Katarn.
The world is our photographing oyster.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Utter "Omigoodness"
It is known far and wide that I am an incompetent baker. If one would like a meal for 172 people, then I am your gal. If you need a dessert for three, call Winco. However, every Tuesday night for the past two years we have had many people descend on our house for life group. Many times dessert is brought by a highly capable chef, but due to my sabattical from the working world the chore, er, delight, falls to me.
Weeks into the situation, it seems my skills are sharpening. How do I know?
The one and only example:
This is the closest I have ever (and I emphasize ever) have created cookies that acutally look like cookies.
Monday, May 18, 2009
Waking Up
The morning dove began the sonnet, followed by multiple, various tweets to accompany the "I love you" base. With each dip of my paddle, I slid into the wakening scene of nature. The morning light shimmered on the ripples my paddle left on the calm water. The foliage appeared crisp and new. Dragonflies danced and pranced on Gerty's bow and my knees. The air smelled fresh and clean.
In silence, my companions and I soaked in the solitude and calmness of a new day. Each of us had rolled out of bed, some easier than others, to enjoy a morning paddle before the busyness of day took its toll.
Three hours later we moored, gathered our respective vessels and parted ways emotionally sated.
In silence, my companions and I soaked in the solitude and calmness of a new day. Each of us had rolled out of bed, some easier than others, to enjoy a morning paddle before the busyness of day took its toll.
Three hours later we moored, gathered our respective vessels and parted ways emotionally sated.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Another Graduate
I survived the hike, returned to town a little late, but had time to party hard with the new graduate.
Just what I need, another Master Reverend in my life.
Just what I need, another Master Reverend in my life.
Friday, May 15, 2009
My Mantra: Hiking = Messed Up Journey
After looking at Annie's amazing photos, I was determined to experience Coyote's Wall with my own two feet. This morning, I left early to allow myself extra time...just in case. I have learned to bank on the 'just in case' especially with hikes. They are never what they seem when I do them.
At 10:20am, I parked the car at the trailhead and began my journey.
An hour into the climb, I had seen hundreds of trees, mossy rocks and a breathtaking view of Mt. Hood.
Yet, my goal was still far, far away.
At 10:20am, I parked the car at the trailhead and began my journey.
An hour into the climb, I had seen hundreds of trees, mossy rocks and a breathtaking view of Mt. Hood.
Yet, my goal was still far, far away.
After another hour I ran into fellow hikers and asked politely, "Am I there yet?" The poor woman was quite befuzzled, but gladly agreed to direct me on my way. Her mantra, "Keep to the right on all paths and stay out of the poison oak." I shook my head, told her thanks and headed on my way.
An hour later I had been on two gravel roads, passed houses, and broken out of the foliage for fabulous peeks of Mt. Hood and the Gorge, but still no meadows of wildflowers.
I came to another hiker. Kindly I asked, "Where did you come from and have you seen wildflowers?" He replied, "Oh yes, just keep going this way. Keep to the right." I thanked him and went on my way.
Within the hour I found myself beside a Bubba truck and weird jerry rigged solar panels. However, I found the first sign of a location on an oil barrel--Cook Lane. I called Zach and said, "I love you but I may not make it home tonight. Can you pull up a map?" Alas, this hike was an unmapped region. I could hear the edging tone of worry in his voice. We were hours apart; he in dress clothes behind a desk, me in running shoes and a tank top wandering (aimlessly) around the labryinth that was mocking me. With cheer and confidence in my voice I said, "Don't worry, I will find figure it out!" Click.
At this point it was 1:30ish and I had to be back in my car by 3pm to make it to BD's graduation celebrations. Within minutes of hanging up with Zach, I ran into two mountain bikers. Cheery chaps who pleasantly told me, "Oh yeah, you are totally on the right track. You just have about three to three and a half miles more to go." With a smile in my face and a spring to my step, away I went.
Within minutes I found the elusive fields of wildflowers
And the top of Coyote's Wall.
I had trekked that entire span. I had a long, long way down.
At 3:15pm, I came back to where it had all began.
My flub: I did the trail backwards. Kind of.
An hour later I had been on two gravel roads, passed houses, and broken out of the foliage for fabulous peeks of Mt. Hood and the Gorge, but still no meadows of wildflowers.
I came to another hiker. Kindly I asked, "Where did you come from and have you seen wildflowers?" He replied, "Oh yes, just keep going this way. Keep to the right." I thanked him and went on my way.
Within the hour I found myself beside a Bubba truck and weird jerry rigged solar panels. However, I found the first sign of a location on an oil barrel--Cook Lane. I called Zach and said, "I love you but I may not make it home tonight. Can you pull up a map?" Alas, this hike was an unmapped region. I could hear the edging tone of worry in his voice. We were hours apart; he in dress clothes behind a desk, me in running shoes and a tank top wandering (aimlessly) around the labryinth that was mocking me. With cheer and confidence in my voice I said, "Don't worry, I will find figure it out!" Click.
At this point it was 1:30ish and I had to be back in my car by 3pm to make it to BD's graduation celebrations. Within minutes of hanging up with Zach, I ran into two mountain bikers. Cheery chaps who pleasantly told me, "Oh yeah, you are totally on the right track. You just have about three to three and a half miles more to go." With a smile in my face and a spring to my step, away I went.
Within minutes I found the elusive fields of wildflowers
And the top of Coyote's Wall.
I had trekked that entire span. I had a long, long way down.
At 3:15pm, I came back to where it had all began.
My flub: I did the trail backwards. Kind of. Thursday, May 14, 2009
Oregon City Tourist
The McLoughlin House sign on I-205 has haunted me for the past three and a half years. Today I took the plunge and became a tourist in Oregon City.
I began my time at the Barclay House. Upon opening the door, I was met with two time period dressed guides and a burly, blue eyed Ranger. It was quite the contrast. Since I was the only visitor at the time, Tracy took me under her historical-guiding-wing to peruse the grounds. She was fun, and instantly gained my undying tourist loyalty when she told me that she started her tour guiding days at the Sarah Mitchell Winchester Mansion. I (oh so very badly) want to visit the Wichester Mansion.
Our hour in Dr. McLoughlin's house was great. His life story is quite amazing, and the history of the house is as well. I loved gazing at old quilts, unique furnishings, and talking about the odd people Tracy had brought through the house at one time or another.
After the tour concluded and the burly ranger man inquired as to whether I was a PE teacher (it seems the office had a bet going during my tour), I followed the tunnel/walkway to the Municipal Elevator.
I rode the 90 feet to the space shuttle command center, aka elevator lounge area. It was fun to look over the city and see the history displayed in pictures in lounge.
My time ran short and I was unable to walk the entire historical loop. However, I was giddy with the treasures I had experienced and seen. The awesome part: FREE! The entire tour, elevator ride, and tunnel walk were free. Fabulous way to spend a day.
I began my time at the Barclay House. Upon opening the door, I was met with two time period dressed guides and a burly, blue eyed Ranger. It was quite the contrast. Since I was the only visitor at the time, Tracy took me under her historical-guiding-wing to peruse the grounds. She was fun, and instantly gained my undying tourist loyalty when she told me that she started her tour guiding days at the Sarah Mitchell Winchester Mansion. I (oh so very badly) want to visit the Wichester Mansion.
Our hour in Dr. McLoughlin's house was great. His life story is quite amazing, and the history of the house is as well. I loved gazing at old quilts, unique furnishings, and talking about the odd people Tracy had brought through the house at one time or another.
After the tour concluded and the burly ranger man inquired as to whether I was a PE teacher (it seems the office had a bet going during my tour), I followed the tunnel/walkway to the Municipal Elevator.
I rode the 90 feet to the space shuttle command center, aka elevator lounge area. It was fun to look over the city and see the history displayed in pictures in lounge.
My time ran short and I was unable to walk the entire historical loop. However, I was giddy with the treasures I had experienced and seen. The awesome part: FREE! The entire tour, elevator ride, and tunnel walk were free. Fabulous way to spend a day.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)