Aboard the Prius - Our Trek to the Pacific Northwest (Pt. 4)

Day 4 - Tuesday, May 11


We crossed over into Washington just for a bit.  The pine trees are lush, full, voluptuous and slenderly tall.  Mountains flank us.  Homes are nestled in hills masked by pines, beeches, birches.  Pristine northwestern beauty.  My only disappointment is that we didn't stop anywhere to take pictures.  We just kept driving.  Yellow flowers dotted the highways.  So many yellow flowers.


Mom is explaining to me "Deal or No Deal."  About "the women in beautiful dresses."  Now she is talking about "One Versus A Hundred."  


The trees here in Oregon--yes, we're back--are not as green as Washington's.  We're meandering through the mountains, heading towards Astoria.  It looks like it's going to rain soon.

Rose City Country Club

In Oregon it is the law that you cannot pump your own gas.  The attendants must pump it for you, for they know how to do it properly to prevent fumes from being emitted into the atmosphere.  Dad thought that was crazy.  So far the last two attendants who pumped his gas had not capped the tank properly.  The Prius is a sensitive automobile.  If not properly capped the check engine light comes on.  Dad said he wouldn't want to live in Oregon.


We saw a lot of espresso shacks in Oregon and Washington.  We made it to Astoria.

Welcome to maritime port of Astoria

Picture taken through window

inside the Columbia River Maritime Museum

We drove along highway 101, caressing the coastline.  Saw the beaches, beautiful and rugged.  We meandered through small communities, beach communities and farming communities.  It was a very beautiful scenic day.  We ate lunch at Clemente's in Astoria.  We stopped at Tillamook in the afternoon and visited their cheese and dairy factory.  Dad bought a strawberry ice cream cone.  Real strawberries.  He said that was the best strawberry ice cream he's ever tasted.  We're staying the night in Newport at an EconoLodge.  Yikes!  There's no bathroom light.  Had clam chowder at a local restaurant.  Delicious.  Hoping the night passes quickly so we can get out of this lodge.

Lunch at Clemente's

According to the sales lady inside the maritime 

museum's giftshop, this was crab season

and Clemente's is a good place for crab

The piano without a player...

no boogie-woogie ragtime

Delectable juicy and flavorful crabcakes...

When I ordered it the waitress told me

the restaurant didn't have any.

Then why list it on the menu???

She went to the kitchen and minutes

later informed me that the chef will 

make it for me.

(Apparently crab season started THAT day.)

Had to stop at this bakery!

It looked TOO good to pass up.

I ordered six items:

apple fritter for Dad, 2 pieces of baklava

for Mom, 2 berry pockets (resembled

blueberries but not) and...

...this for me.

Reminds me Palmiers

(It took me three days to finish it.)

Charming house in Astoria, nestled upon the hill

overlooking the town.

Heading towards Newport

Awesome Clam Chowder

*All photography were taken with my iPhone.

© 2010 Sriprae P. McDonald 

Aboard the Prius - Our Trek to the Pacific Northwest (Pt. 3)

Day 3 - Monday, May 10


Slept well.  Woke up intermittently during the night.  Opted for breakfast in the lobby because Mom wanted me to.  Boise is about 40 miles from Mountain Home.  Once we got there parents realized neither of them picked up Mom's cell phone from the hotel room.  Now we're turning back.  Dad's a bit ticked.  Don't blame him.


There's a change in the atmosphere.  It began when Mom made the comment yesterday.  Perhaps she sensed that I closed up.  She told me three times, "I love you."  I love her, too.  Always will.  


The countryside is now a blur.  Dad is driving much faster.  The leisurely pace has been shelved.  Lost time, lost miles.  We're passing other vehicles now.  From Boise Oregon is 60 miles away, Dad said.  The sky is overcast again, and my hair is flat.  I don't know what to do with it.  My bangs hang limp to the side.  I don't feel pretty, but I don't care.


Obama announced his nomination of Elena Keegan for Supreme Court Justice despite the fact she's inexperienced.  Like him.


Severe weather warning for Oklahoma, Missouri and Kansas.  Cold and hot air will collide creating turbulence.  Tornadoes.


Breakfast was blah.  Coffee was awful.  Tasteless.  Dad offered to stop at Starbucks in Boise; I've no appetite.


Words are windows into a person's soul.  They can either be shut or allow only but a peep hole.  Nevertheless what words you decide to speak will somehow be ingrained into another person's memory.  Choose your words wisely and don't be so quick to speak  your mind or heart.  Even simple words can tear down or build up.  Don't say too many words either, because it conveys you'd rather get your point across than hear someone else out.


One of the best things you can do with your words is stimulate someone to think.  Teach them to think for themselves.  That's an art.  We'd rather be told what to do and adhere to a list of rules and regulations.  Stand fast in the liberty which Christ has made you free.  It requires that you know ho to think and reason.  For the adversary will attempt to screw your plans.  Know the Truth for yourself.  Study to show yourself approved.


Alas we arrived back at the hotel.  Dad went inside to inquire after the phone.  Mom rummaged the trunk and left for the restroom.  It's blissfully quiet and still.  The birds are softly chirping.  There's probably just one or two.  Not like the symphony at my place.  The phone is retrieved.  We're going back to Boise.  Dad apologized for the wasted two hours.  He took the blame.  


We're now in Oregon!  It looks like Ireland.  Rugged rolling hills and mist.  But not as green.  I wasn't aware Oregon had so many rolling mountains.  It is gorgeous.  It is raining. The mood is more festive in the Prius.  Alas we have arrived.  It's not what I imagined.  Although there are no towns--yet--the land doesn't feel desolate.  We're swallowed by gigantic gentle hills.  We stopped at Bakers City to use the restroom at McDonald's.  Dad ordered a chicken sandwich, Mom a hamburger and me a 6-piece chicken McNugget.

Oregon

Gas station

The clouds have descended upon the mountains, encircling their snow capped peaks in one massive wreath.  The mountains are blue and the clouds are a glowing silver white.  The land is rich with moisture and peak-a-boo streams.  In some parts the hills are craggy. Spring has not fully blossomed here yet.  


We just passed the 45th parallel.


I heard a story about a young talented jazz musician.  He was a progeny who grew up in Brooklyn... 


There's a dusting of snow along the mountain side.  Fresh snow cling to the limbs of pine trees.  A forest of pine flank us on both sides.  We're in the no cellular zone.  It's so beautiful.  Spring snow intermingle with new grass.  Hot tea would be lovely about now.

We've driven down from the mountain tops.  The land is flatter, a patchwork quilt of emerald, wheat, chocolate and clay.  The sky is as broad as ever.  The rain and mist have stopped.  The road has unraveled and lays stretched  straight ahead.

How can we explain what seems unexplainable?  To some they rejoiced at the news.  To others they turned their backs and they wished you would too.  Each successive step we take towards happiness is an investment.  Evaluate, count the cost.  A thing that is worth having is worth fighting for.  If the good Lord has placed eternity in our hearts, I think it safe to surmise that it's one filled with good and joy.  Who would want an eternity filled with misery?  Then what about this life?  If He provided for our joy and happiness, can we trust Him to turn our ashes into beauty?  He makes all things new.  


Don't apologize for your decisions unless you truly are sorry for them.  They are decisions for you to make, not anybody else.  It is your life for you to live.  You answer to God.


Passed a tree farm.  Expansive.  Lots of trees in perfectly aligned rows.  I'm guessing they're used for manufacturing paper.

Tree farm

Ah...rain again.  Port of Morrow.


Stopped at Shell to get gasoline.  Not self-serve.  Two guys descended with smiles to fill our tank and wash our windshield.  Mom went inside and bought me a bag of Lays potato chips.


What makes love such a beautiful thing?  Love is a decision, a pledge to care about a person and his/her life.  It's a willingness to look out for someone, to meet his/her needs to the extent that one is able.  It's esteeming another's life more than yours.


At this part of Oregon, alongside the Columbia River, the terrain is what I imagine Wales to look resemble.

Columbia River

Portland is beautiful.  Imagine living side by side with tall, slender trees...with mountains and hills in the backdrop that's no far removed from the backyard.  Flowers and greenery profusely abound.  Nature is more rampant than concrete sidewalks.  Houses are shoulder to shoulder with rosebushes spilling from the in between.

Neighborhood in Portland

I tried to picture myself in this setting.  Bohemian.  The yoga-chic, environmentally bourgeoisie.  It's a no-frills neighborhood.  People tote backpacks, knapsacks, messenger bags.  They hoof it or bike it.  Hair is tousled due to wind and altering rain and sunshine.  Heels are replaced by sensible flats or sleek sneakers.  No bling.  Simple silver jewelry with colored accent stones.  People are slim and they seem to love fresh food.  There's a plethora of independent Asian restaurants.  I haven't spotted a fast food joint yet.  Could I live here?  The scenery is liquid serenity.  You drink it in with your eyes and are immediately refreshed.  I think I could live anywhere as long as you're with me.  Then I could picture myself here.


We at dinner at Pok Pok, a Thai restaurant Mom saw on the Food Network.  The owners bought a house and converted it into an eatery, reminiscent of the Thai outdoor restaurants.  They used the garage space for their indoor dining.  The food is authentic Thai.  Spicy and flavorful.  Small portions but plenty.

Inside dinning area of Pok Pok's Thai restaurant

Portland, OR

My order:

A noodle salad of fried catfish with herbs...

and a good spritz of lime juice

Thai iced tea

sweetened with condensed milk

Dad's order:

Diced catfish in a spicy ginger sauce

served with sticky rice

Mom's order:

A curry soup with egg noddles

and chicken 

(a favorite of hers during high school)

We're crossing the I-250 bridge into Washington.  What little bit we did see I like...more so than Oregon.  There are more towering pines in Washington.  The concept of living in the midst of a park-like setting is 'new' for me.  I've grown used to the flat lands


Checked in to our hotel in Portland.  Hampton Inn again.  The one in Idaho was much nicer though; it was newer.  The bathroom is not as spacious here.  I'm waiting for the shower.  Dad just took his and now Mom is using it.  Need to wash my hair.


Mom wants to see Inglorious Bastards.  The hotel has it for $11.99.  Ridiculous.


Evening.  Finally finished my shower and blow dried my hair.  It's a bit warm in this hotel room.  Still I'm not sleepy.  Dad is on his laptop planning tomorrow's route.  Mom is bored so she has already resigned to sleep.

In the twinkle periwinkle of night's
   soft kiss
In the bask of the velvet black moon-drop
   sea
Out on the balcony I wait for thee


Stars like pearls effervescent
   opalescent shimmer
   atop canopies of orange blossoms


Time evades I count days until your
   breath I taste again
   Not in phantoms of dreams
   but in flesh warm and moist


I wait atop the trees until you call
   out for me
And then to you I run

*All photography were taken with my iPhone.

© 2010 Sriprae P. McDonald 

Aboard the Prius - Our Trek to the Pacific Northwest (Pt. 2)

Day 2 - Sunday, May 9


MOTHER'S DAY


Sleep did not dispel the sinus headache.  Mom went to get me a piece of toast so that I could take the allergy medication.  There was a Starbucks next to the hotel, so once we loaded the Prius Dad took me there.  Got to have my oatmeal and coffee for breakfast.  The temperature was a cold 31 degrees.

Packing the Prius

Breakfast

We crossed into Wyoming while I regaled Mom and Dad with snippets from Inglorious Bastards.  Now they want to see it.

Beautiful morning...and cold

My Mom

My Dad, the road warrior...the expeditionist

There were still snow patches on the ground in some places near the Colorado/Wyoming boarder.  We drove down HWY 80 which Dad informed me that some parts of the highway were part of the original wagon trail.  The landscape is stark.  Quite a few number of low buttes and sand--very little grass but lots of bushes that resemble sage.  No houses & very few towns along the road we traveled.  Lonely place.  Such vast empty land with no habitation.  Why are some areas populated?  Why were towns established in those places and not others?  Dad said it had to do with water supply.  Where there's a water source, that's where a town will be established.

Lunch...consisted of a Carl's Jr chicken and bacon sandwich

with a five fruit smoothie from

Jamba Juice

Mom turned on the stereo and put in a teaching CD by Keith Moore.  "We should rejoice in  God's choice for us," he said.  He's talking about our places and graces within the body of Christ. 


I decided to read my Bible.


Romans 12:1 ...that you present (yield) your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable (well-pleasing) unto God...


Acceptable unto God.  According to Genesis 4 and what Jesus taught us, God cannot be worshipped with things made by our hands.  He is spirit.  So how do we present ourselves acceptable to Him?


Romans 8:39  Nothing shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.


Romans 8:13  We are debtors not to live after the flesh.


Makes sense right?  Jesus purchased us with His blood.  He made atonement for us.  We are no longer slaves and under bondage to sin.  God is spirit and we are spirit.  It behooves us then to live after the spirit, not the lusts of the flesh.


Romans 12:2  Be not conformed to this world but be transformed by the renewing of your mind...


A transformation of worldview?


Reasoning...


You are transformed by the renewing of your mind.  Sound reasoning is the key, not mumbo-jumbo fluff.  Once you begin to understand more and more then you'll be able to prove what is that good, acceptable and perfect will of God.


To prove.  Proof for yourself.


I think God is more logical than we give Him credit for.  The majority of the church has sadly left logic out while emphasizing faith.  Hence lots of churched people are unable to logically explain the reason for their hope to intellectuals.  God gave us a mind for thinking.


Question: In light of what was learned from Genesis 4 regarding God accepting Abel's offering/sacrifice, what do you think is meant by Romans 12:1 now that Jesus has become our substitution?

---

It is stark this land less populated by people

Balded hills of taupe gray fields

houses and squat silos, twiggy trees yet nude

punctuated by slanted telephone poles

It is the land of the vast empty

where winds do roam untethered and unnoticed

Solitude lives here amongst the sagging roofs

homes long abandoned

It is an island unto itself

apart from civilization

A sense of loss and forgetfulness

We meander along the artery carved between

the hills. No sentries of trees greet us.  No

electric lights to illuminate us, down this

stretch this corridor of west HWY 84

---

Who lives here?  Who would live here?  I can't imagine.  Beyond these hairless hills I once again glimpse the snow-capped mountains in the distance.  Always in the distance.

The clouds hover.  They press near but not too near.  I suppose this an American version of Wuthering Heights.  Heathcliff roams these lands in boots and spurs.  A lone rider upon his horse without a herd.  Life is hard but nature is abundant.

What stories are marked beneath these hills?  What secrets lay buried upon this land?  What kind of people choose to dwell here?  It's a different sort of beauty that makes me ache for home.  My city and the city lights.

There is a green field and farming equipment.  Whose land are we passing and what are their names?  Irrigation machines.  But not a soul.  Perhaps behind these hills are bustling towns and houses.  The urban jungle has not spread to this far flung place.  We're now in Idaho.

"Deer migration crossing next 2 miles."

"Game crossing."

Entered the farm lands of Idaho.  Tilled and green fields.  Homes dotting every few acres. Emerald Lake, a place for couples to picnic and families to gather.  See the edge of the gray clouds.  The evening sun shines and softens the clouds to an opal.  The land is quite pretty here.  It's flatter but looks homier, inviting.

It is 7:12 p.m.  Daylight is still plentiful.  If I were home I would either prepare dinner or tun on the television.  The field beside me are being irrigated.  They are luscious and green.  Greener than the wild grass along the highway ditches.  

One hundred miles to go to our hotel at Mountain Home, Idaho.

Today my meals consisted of:

oatmeal & coffee from Starbucks

a piece of Mom's chocolate ganache cupcakes

one banana & four apple slices around noon

3/4 of a bacon swiss chicken sandwich from Carl's Jr.

1/2 order of small fries

16 oz Five Fruit Jamba Juice

Once we get into Oregon the time changes again.  I forgot to bring my umbrella.  Saw that it rained there today.

The road seems to stretch endlessly before us.  Passing a green farm valley surrounded by bald hills and buttes.  Dad wants to see a potato farm.  What does a potato farm look like? Crossing Snake River.  We're about 27 miles from Mountain Home.  Exiting Glen Ferry to get gasoline.  Wish the town was named Taco Falls rather than the boring Twin Falls.

An Asian looking girl walked to the gas station as we were pulling out.  She looked at us, and I think Mom waved.  She looked at me and we both smiled.  Who is she?  What is here life here like?  Is she happy in this small town?  Or does she wish she could be elsewhere?  Was she curious about us?  Does she have a family...a husband and children of her own?  Is she in love?

No one can know the heart of a person unless that person chooses to let you catch a glimpse.

Town with the gas station

At the gas station

The sun is setting, and the horizon is awashed in apricot, lavender, pink and baby blue.  The buttes are purplish gray.  The land is flat.  Nor more farms.  It's empty again.  Only traffic populates this scenery.


I finished The Lovely Bones earlier this afternoon.  Disappointing ending.  It started out so good then seemed to drag on endlessly.  The body was never found, the killer never apprehended, and heaven was depressing.


The sky is now fiercely pink.  I wish I had a camera that could capture ever nuance of what my mind processes.


The Hampton Inn is such a drastic relief from last night's Sleep Inn.  A most welcoming change.  The room is newer; the bathroom is roomier.  The beds look and feel inviting.  However, I'm not as tired as I was yesterday.  I napped quite a bit today in small doses.  Is there a Starbucks nearby?  According to my app, there are no Starbucks in Mountain Home, Idaho.  It's nearly 10 p.m. and I'm still not sleepy.

Tomorrow we'll be in Oregon.  Per Dad we'll drive along the coastal highway.  We'll be staying in Portland, which surprised me.  Dad said we might travel to Eugene and go near the Washington border.  We won't have time to venture far inland but we'll have a couple of days in Oregon.  It'll be a shorter trip tomorrow.  Lots of time for stopping and taking pictures.

Home is so many miles away.  I remember when we would come every year during the summer to where I am currently living.  How I hated to leave.  It was as if every time I was leaving a piece of my heart behind.  There's that nostalgia feeling every time I'm away from it. 


The last of dreams is elusive.
Flighty and airy I search for your face
   twists and turns
   journeys through life don't pan as expected.
I am not the cartographer.  I designed not the 
   geography.  My life was given as a gift.
   My birth was blessed by God.
A citizen of a land where liberty I can partake
& pursue my own happiness.
   So why have I been taught that in seeking my
own happiness is selfish?  Adhere to family
principles and do what I'm told.
   Is my life my own?  Or will I always be
a child within my family's shadows?

A good night indeed

*All photography were taken with my iPhone.

© 2010 Sriprae P. McDonald