Thanksgiving Adventure 2015 - Pt. 6

Astoria to Vancouver.

I woke up feeling pretty rough. I had had a few too many of those Busch tallboys. I showered, gathered my things, and set off. I needed coffee before I crossed the Astoria-Mengler bridge. One thing I absolutely love about Washington and Oregon are the coffee shacks which are located EVERYWHERE! I found one, bought myself an extra large, and drove across the bridge.

I took 101 across the genuinely epic bridge. Once in Washington I detoured off along 401. It followed the Columbia River inland for a few miles before heading north and dead ending at a T junction with hwy 4. I took 4 north along some kind of inlet. It was beautiful. After a while I rejoined the 101.

In Raymond I decided to take a detour again. I wanted to hug the coast for as long as I could. I took the 105 into Greyland where I was able to drive a mile or so along the sandy beach! I went up into Westport which was a rather interesting little place. It is located on a piece of land that juts out into Washington's North Bay. It dead ends with the bay on your right and the Pacific Ocean on your left. I took a little walk around and noticed that it was about a 50/50 beach town and fishing village. I liked that place quite a lot.

I found another coffee shack and made my way up to Aberdeen Washington where the 105 joined back up with the 101. Now, I would be lying if I said I didn't think about abandoning my plans to take the 101 around the Olympic Mountains at this point. It would have been real easy to just head east and join up with the I-5 and head north into British Columbia. I gassed up and thought about it. Fuck it, I may never get the chance again. That was my logic. So off I went.
From Aberdeen the 101 goes north into the Olympic National Forest before heading west to the only stretch of coast that it borders. I stopped a few times here, along the coastal section of the sprawling Olympic National Park. It was stunning and not busy at all. Around Ruby Beach the 101 heads back inland. The roads were quiet and lovely.
At Sappho I left the 101 at the 113 junction. I took that to the 112 and headed eastbound on a seriously windy stretch of road. I figured I'd end up running along the north coast of Washington but I only managed to see little glimpses of the Straight of Juan De Fuca here and there. Just west of Port Angelese I joined back up with the 101 and headed into town. I had been to Port Angelese a few years back. Catching a ferry to a festival I was playing on Vancouver Island. I thought it was a remarkable little place and had always planned to come back. Here I was. I puled over and took a stroll. I don't know if it was because it was a Sunday in the off season but the place was totally dead. So I left. Rather disappointed.

My original plan was to head from Port Angeles to Port Townsend and catch a ferry from there to Fort Casey, cross Whidby Island, Fidalgo Island, and join up with the I-5 a good solid hour or so north of Seattle. Well, best laid plans of mice & men. The ferries were all seriously delayed because of fog. Fog that I could not see. Yet. So I stayed on the 101, thinking I could exit towards a bunch of other ferries by taking the 104 across the Hood Canal Bridge. That's when the fog started. It was heavy duty. The Kingston ferry was massively delayed also. So I took hwy 3 south. The Bainbridge Island ferry was also delayed, so I kept going on 3. Same deal with the Bremmerton ferry. Looks like I'd be going into Tacoma. I took hwy 16 and crossed the Tacoma Narrows Bridge.
I found my way into downtown Tacoma. I drove around looking for a friendly bar sign and some food. I drove around for a few blocks before seeing a small street and thinking "if I were to open a bar I would do it on a street like this". I turned down it and drove a few blocks before finding the Zodiac Supper Club. It looked perfect. I parked and went on in. It was perfect. it was so decked out in a campy Christmas fashion. The music was good and the beer was cheap. My bartender was nice and friendly. I couldn't have asked for anything better.

I wished I could have stayed longer but I had to press on. The I-5 from Tacoma to Seattle was shit. Busy and slow. The radio was talking about something called freezing fog. That was a new one for me. I pressed on. Stopping briefly to visit the Bait Shop in Seattle (a favourite place of mine) for a delicious sandwich and a can of beer.
I headed north to the border and had the most amazing luck crossing it. I was completely prepared for a lengthy search. I was driving an SUV that was completely full of stuff. Bikes, baby stuff, running gear, an espresso machine, clothes and god knows what else. My sister and an inventoried list of what and a letter explaining that I was her brother and driving her stuff home. I got in a line and when there were only 2 cars left in front of me the green arrow turned into a red X. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do. The cars behind me started changing into the other lanes. I was so close and it was going to be a pain to change lanes. So I stayed. When it was my turn I pulled up and a very tired and annoyed looking border guard asked me a few questions. I showed him the letter and list. He glanced at it quickly and sent me on my way.
I made it to my sisters apartment soon after that. It was close to midnight.

Thanksgiving Adventure 2015 - Pt. 5

Sisters to Astoria.

It was brutally cold outside when I awoke in Sisters Oregon. I went to the Sisters Coffee Company and saw that they had their big beautiful fireplace going strong. The place looked and felt like an old lodge. I decided against getting one to go and drank my coffee by the fire. It was so damn cozy inside I could have stayed all day. Eventually though, it was time to go. Next stop: Eugene.

The drive to Eugene was the best part of going there. I took US 20 north, out of Sisters. I had originally planed to take the 242 (aka the McKenzie Hwy) west between Mt Washington and North Sister Mountain. This was back when the roadtrip was supposed to happen in September. Now though, the road had been closed for winter. So I went north of Mt Washington before 20 headed east. It was rather beautiful. Easy driving too. At Oregon 126 I went south. I stopped and took a walk into the woods and found a lovely waterfall. The drive from here into Eugene was real pretty. I passed by small town after small town. Christmas tree farms and snow gave it all a very festive feel.

I didn't really care for Eugene truth be told. It was pretty ugly looks wise. The downtown was rather dull looking and characterless. All the cracked out looking homeless youth didn't help. There was just a pretty bland vibe in the air. It got me thinking about what that guy Steve (I met at the D&D) said about towns out here. He said he was in Montreal once and it made him realize how new everything out in Oregon was. Especially places like Bend and Eugene. He told me Bend was only about 100 years old. Built by the logging companies. Eugene felt even newer and rather sloppily thrown together. Like a strip mall with sidewalks.
I went to Luckey's Club in Eugene and had a beer. I was ready to get out of town so used the wifi to make my next plan. I was deciding on what part of the coast to go towards when two guys walked in and asked the bartender if they sold food. He replied "Yeah, but you don't want it". I decided to keep going along Oregon 126, straight west, to Florence.

It was a windy and rather long drive to the coast. And once I arrived I wished I had gone north on the interstate for a while before heading to the coast. The towns were all rather touristy and compact. I dunno, I was sort of expecting quiet rugged shoreline. What I got was traffic and people. I guess it was the Thanksgiving long weekend. It wasn't bad or anything. Just slow, busy, and uninspiring. Thanks to a county town sign advertising the "Three Capes Scenic Dive" I did see a spectacular sunset out in Cape Kiwanda.
I had thought maybe I would spend the night in Newport Or when I planned this trip. Now I wanted to just get out of there as fast as I could. I had never been to Astoria Oregon other than driving across the big bridge back in May. D&D Steve had casually mentioned that Astoria was a really cool town. So that's where I decided to go.

Astoria was great. Easily my favourite city/town in Oregon. If I were to ever move west I think it would be to Astoria. It is located at the mouth of the Columbia river on the Pacific Ocean. The downtown is real cute. It has coffee shops, bars, restaurants, a trolley on the pier, and a pretty fun feel to it. I really wished I had arrived a few hours earlier than I did. I checked into a hotel that was pretty much under the Astoria-Megler bridge (aka the bridge from Goonies). I found a nice dive bar called the Chart Room Bar and instantly met some people. I talked with a guy named Sam for a while. After he left I had an old man talk to me about Hillary Duff for a while. You can't make this shit up. He knew everything about her. It was bizarre. From there I took a walk and headed on back towards my hotel. I was planning on hitting up Mary Todds Workmans Bar on the way back. It looked really fun and I read that the food was great. I am pleased to report, even though it was a pretty quiet night inside, that it was really fun and the food was really really good! I made friends with the bartender (Andy) and a few regulars. This place was a goddamn gem! I stayed later than I had planned drinking tall boys of Busch while listening to stories about a bike rides from coast to coast, housing foreclosures, and local history.

Thanksgiving Adventure 2015 - Pt. 4

Elko To Sisters.

I woke up in Elko Nevada. I was in a Super 8. It was kind of a shithole. Paper thin walls and just generally dumpy. The people had been nice though. Both checking in and out. It was early again. I was out the door by 8am. Still on east coast time I suppose. I got some road coffee and set off. I have been on I-80 west a bunch of times (like is said in the previous post). So I was not really expecting much from this stretch of interstate between Elko and Winnemucca. What a lovely surprise though. The usually tan coloured high desert dotted with deep dull green sagebrush sprawling in front of greyish brown mountains had been lightly dusted with a coating of snow. I had never seen out here look like this. Foggy steam was coming off of the snow in a field that the morning sun was shining down on. It was gorgeous.

I exited in Winnemucca and was once again surprised by the difference. I had stopped here many a times on my way to Burning Man back in the late 90's and early 00's. Now there was a great new coffee shop, hairdressers, and bars. It looked like the little old town was on the up and up. I met some lovely ladies working at Cafe 345. I drank some more coffee before heading north on US Route 95. From there I took a smaller road called Nevada 140. It was amazing. It stretched through the high plains desert and for the first hour or so I never saw another car. I set the cruise control for 72 and drove. I don't usually listen to a whole lot of music when I drive but this seemed like the perfect exception. There were no shoulders so I drove in the middle of the road and took in all that sprawling landscape.

So, I've been using Google Maps to plot my trip. From my living room in Hudson Quebec a few months back to the mornings before I hit the road in whatever hotel room I wake up in. If you look at the map it says you take 140 to a fork in the road and go straight on 205 up into Oregon. Well, I came to a fork in the road and there was no 205. Just a 292. So I stopped and went into a weird, kind of creepy, old building and asked the two girls who were working (one was about 8 and the other 16) if they knew where 205 was. They didn't. I asked how to get to Burns and the older one said either road would take me there. So I thanked them and got back in the car. I figured I should keep going on 140 and I would run across the 205 sooner or later. Well, I was wrong. Later, when I looked at Google Maps from the hotel room where I am now and zoomed way in and lo and behold! The tiny stretch from that fork in the road to the Oregon border is called 292. I fucked up.

I fucked up because after about an hour I realized that I was on the 140 west now. And once I crossed into Oregon there was no turning back. Once I crossed into Oregon is when the drive took a rough turn. They apparently don't have salt trucks or snow plows. The roads where covered in snow and ice. The sun was shining but it was below freezing. So the top layer of the road had snow that was melting from the sun but was then refreezing because of the cold and wind. This make driving on a small windy backroad with no shoulder a terrifying experience. Especially when you hit a 4 mile long downgrade of 7% that has no guardrails at the side of road and there is a 200 foot drop. It was a white knuckle ride. Now I was pissed at myself for this huge cock up. There were also no signs for any towns anywhere and I had about 1/4 tank of gas left. It took hours and hours to get as far as a "town" called Adel. There was a weird building with a gas pump and a bunch of pickup trucks. I went in to find out about gas because the pump had no prices and black markered "out" written on it. I walked into a place that was like a taxidermy. A place that hipster bars in Brooklyn tried to look like but were just cozy little places to have a drink. This shit was more like something from The Hills Have Eyes or the Texas Chainsaw Massacre. There were hunters with guns and liquor everywhere. There was a woman in the kitchen cooking some kind of meat on a griddle. The place stunk. There were mismatched chairs around old broken tables and a sad looking dog wandering aimlessly. One hunter told me that she had to turn the pumps on and she'd be with me in a minute. After about 10 minutes I left. Without gas. I went on up into some chain up mountainous ares covered in even more snow and ice. Slowly. Slowly. Finally I made it to the end of 140 and drove into Lakeview for some gas.

In oregon you can't pump your own gas. Just like New Jersey. The guy pumping the gas informed me that they had been blinded by this storm. No one saw it coming so everything was a mess. I took 395 north. It was still covered in ice and snow but it at least had a shoulder on both sides. Since there were no cars I just drove in the middle of the road allowing me to drive about 60. At Oregon 31 I stopped at another roadside building. I went in and was in half a convenience store and half someones living room. A nice bearded fellow told me that 31 and 395 are about the same but 31 is an hour shorter. I had stopped and asked because I was worried that 31 might be a nightmare like 140.

So on I went. It was still icy but a lot straighter. It was really beautiful. My favourite part of the trip happened here. I saw a bunch of... stuff on the road ahead. I wasn't sure what it was so I slowed down and when I got closer it was a herd of antelope crossing the road. It was beautiful. I pressed on. I was hungry as hell now and heading for Bend. I hadn't eaten at all. I was supposed to grab lunch in Burns but I messed that up. The roads were ok and I made a little time. Until I hit US Route 97. It was covered in thick ice and slow ass drivers. People were going about 25 in a 55. Cars were crashed all over. I pressed on. Hungry, pissed at myself, and ready to get the hell out of the car. Even downtown Bend was thick with ice. I made it though. Found parking. Climbed snowbanks and made my way to the D&D bar.

I had done a little online research the night before and found a place that sounded like a place I would like to have a drink and grab a burger in. It was called the D&D bar and it was perfect inside. I had a few pints of cheap beer. Ordered a burger with tater tots. Had another beer. Made friends with a great guy named Steve who was a construction worker turned yoga instructor. Oregon, innit?

Thanksgiving Adventure 2015 - Pt. 3

Thanksgiving Day

I awoke in Bryce Utah. I had stayed at Rubys Inn just outside of Bryce canyon. It was Thanksgiving Day. I peeked out my window to see light starting to appear and snow slowly coming down. I showered up, packed, and hit the road. I was on Utah State Route 12 (or Scenic Byway 12). When I was planning this trip I had found a website that had mentioned this as one of Americas great drives. It was (somewhat) along my route to Vancouver from Flagstaff. So here I was. Driving on it.

I stopped for some bad gas station coffee in the town of Tropic. It was 60 cents and came in one of those white styrofoam cups. The best part of my stop was the conversation that was taking place between 4 locals and the woman who worked there.
"Did you hear Bobby is in jail?"
"No, he got out on bail".
"What'd he do now?"
"He blew up a truck."
"With dynamite".
"You mean that dynamite that was stolen over the summer?"
"The Feds are looking into it".
"They can trace that shit now, ya know."
"Yep. He is done for".
"Probably a good thing he goes away".

So Hwy 12 is fantastic. It winds through so many canyons and cliffs and fields and just when you think it is petering out along comes another set. And another. If you ever get the chance it is truly stunning. I can't even come close to doing it justice on here. I was sad to get to the end of it.

12 ended at a T junction with Utah State Route 24. While not nearly as epic it was a rather beautiful road itself. Especially the stretch that crossed snowy Mormon Mountain. Eventually I connected back with US Route 89 north. I was looking for US Route 189 to head into Park City. Why Park City? Well, it being Thanksgiving and with most everything being closed, I had made the decision last night to alter my plans. I was originally going to take 12 to 24 to 89 into Salina Utah. From there I was going to go straight west along US Route 50 (aka The Loneliest Road In America) to avoid having to take any of the Interstates out of northern Utah. Since it was Thanksgiving though, I decided to look into seeing what was open in Salt Lake City. Maybe I could have a nice meal, a tasty pint, and meet some friendly people. I did a little online research and couldn't decide because everything was kind of pricey. I gave up, got ready for bed, and watched some TV. About 5 minutes later a local Utah news station did a report about a saloon in Park City that has been feeding people who have nowhere to go or no relatives coming to visit on Thanksgiving. They've been doing it for that last 4 years. So here I was. On my way to the No Name Saloon in Park City.

Park City is a beautiful little mountain town. Obviously a town full of people with a lot of money. The No Name Saloon was perfect. I had a great Thanksgiving meal, a few beers, and made friends with Tereza the bartender. I only stayed for a couple of hours and headed off. From Salt Lake City there is really no option other than the interstate if you are heading west. I've driven on I-80 many times but I figured that taking it at night to get back on track wouldn't be cheating too much. It was a really dark night. I hit some snow at the Nevada border. I went as far as Elko and stopped for the night.

Thanksgiving Adventure 2015 - Pt. 2

Flagstaff to Bryce

I woke up real early. Before 6am kind of early. I guess the travelling and the time change made that happen. My sister, her daughter, and I went for some great coffee at a place called the Firecreek Coffee Company. As a nice little bonus they were playing Bibio in there. Her daughter is adorable. A really sweet and easy kid. Afterwards we packed up the car and had some lunch before I headed on out on the second leg of my adventures.
When you step off the Southwest Chief at the Flagstaff train station the road right in front of you is Route 66. I love when train stations are in the heart of a town or city. Anyway, I took Route 66 to US Route 89 and headed north. I had planned for it to be shorter drive kind of day because I knew I would be leaving in the afternoon. My main plan was to get to the Bryce Canyon area of Utah and find somewhere to sleep.
The drive was pretty easy and at some points overwhelmingly beautiful. Much of the drive on that part of 89 is alongside the Grand Canyon. While you can't see the main attraction, you are driving through colourful canyon country. The most beautiful part of the drive was just after Bitter Springs at the 89 and 89A intersection. 89 heads west before climbing way up and showing you an epic view. I crossed the Colorado river at Lake Powell and left Arizona for Utah. I hit some snow around Glendale in Utah. It wasn't so bad but I passed a few cars in the ditch. I arrived at my destination on time and had me an early night.

Thanksgiving Adventure 2015 - Pt. 1

So my little sister has been living in Flagstaff for the last 6 months because of work. Now it was time for her to move back to her home in Vancouver. She has a 1 year old and didn't want to drive home with her. So being the road trip loving brother I gladly agreed to do the driving while they flew home. I was originally planning to fly to Flagstaff but after looking into flights I changed my mind. I would have had to fly from Montreal to Ottawa. Ottawa to Toronto. Toronto to Phoenix. And then take a 3 hour bus ride to Flagstaff. That didn't sound fun at all. On a whim I logged on to the Amtrak website and put in departing from Montreal arriving in Flagstaff and I was amazed at the result. It was possible! I could go from my city to her city. So I bought a ticket. And it wasn't very expensive at all.

The Amtrak Adirondack
The trip involved taking 3 trains. The first being the Adirondack. A train I know very well. Before my wife and I were married we had a long distance relationship. She lived in Montreal and I lived in Brooklyn. She had a car and I took the train. We did this for 3 years. I love that train ride. It is long and slow and unbelievably beautiful. This time, though, I would be only taking it as far as Schenectady where I would have a 2 hour layover before catching the next train. I did a few minutes of research and found a great bar called The 20 North Broadway Tavern. It was half a block from the station. I spent 90 minutes swilling cheap cans of PBR tall boys while listening to hilarious people shit talk one another.

The Lake Shore Limited
The 2nd train was called the Lake Shore Limited. It goes from New York to Chicago. This was my least favourite of the train rides. I boarded the already pretty busy train in Schenectady but found a double seat and got cozy. I guess it being the Sunday before Thanksgiving made it a little busier than usual. I went to the cafe/lounge car and found a bunch of already pretty drunk people arguing about politics. It was friendly enough but loud. A lot of beer and food was already sold out. Which seemed crazy since we still had 12 hours to go. At some point an extremely intoxicated woman started fighting people in the cafe/lounge car. The train had to pull over and police came on to remove her. This put us behind about an hour. Which then resulted in us getting stuck behind quite a lot of freight traffic. Amtrak doesn't own the rail lines so has a pretty small window of time between the freight trains. We ultimately arrived in Chicago 2 hours late because of this drunken asshole. Anyway, I did my best to try and sleep in coach. Ear plugs, a white noise app, and noise cancelling headphones really helped. When I went to sleep around 1am I was surrounded by some pretty trashy looking people. When I awoke about 5 hours later I was surrounded by Amish people! I had about 10 seconds of terror which turned into 30 seconds of confusion before realizing where I was. It was a pretty funny moment.
I watched the sun come up. You could see for miles and everything was covered in snow. It was actually quite beautiful. I had that first snow of the year excitement since we hadn't even had any yet in southwestern Quebec. Even Gary Indiana was rather beautiful with all the decaying industry blanketed in snow. I had planned to wander around the Printers Row are of Chicago during my 5 hour layover but that never happened. Since the layover was shortened by two hours and it was cold as hell outside - I changed my plans as soon as I saw a sign that read "Big Ass Slices, Cheap Beer, Free Wifi".

The Southwest Chief
This train ride is fantastic. I mean, everything about it was great. From pre-boarding, to boarding, to the rooms, the beds, the food, the view. I enjoyed every minute of it. The train cars are all called a superliner (except for the baggage car and engines). A superliner have two stories. My room for the trip was located on the bottom level. It took a little time to get used to size wise, but it was absolutely perfect for me. It consisted of two seats that face on another (and fold into a bed); a bunk bed that comes down above it; a big window; a fold away table; and some space to hang a few things. Walking between cars took place on the 2nd level. The hallways were a bit tight and I found myself bouncing off the walls often. It was fun. The lounge car had big windows that went right up into the ceiling and chairs positioned all the way around it to allow you to soak in all the sights the trip had to offer. And what unbelievable sights there were: Prairies, canyons, mountains, desert, towns, rivers, and the big sky. So much sky. I had my dinners, breakfast, and lunch in the dining car. They sit solo passengers with other people to save room which makes for a real fun dining experience. At one point just after Raton New Mexico we hit an elk. Poor thing. They had to double check everything. luckily everything was fine, and we were back on our way.
I had some lovely little moments along the way as well. Stepping off the train and feeling the sun on my back in La Junta. Waking up in the middle of the night and gazing up on millions of stars somewhere out on the prairies. Stretching my legs on the platform in Kansas City. Watching hundreds of red lights from wind turbines blink at the same time. Seeing wild horses run through a field.
I met some really wonderful people along the way. My neighbours across from me were great. The grandson was taking his grandmother on a train to Los Angeles where they would board a cruise to Hawaii. I had a lovely breakfast with Dottie and Marylou. They were also on "the train to Hawaii". They were two retirees who had first tried to tip me for helping them carry their bags up to the 2nd floor of the superliner. As luck would have it I ended up seated with them the next morning. At the end of our breakfast there was only Dottie an I left at the table and she told me that her husband had passed away almost 20 years ago and she misses him as much now as she did back then. I had dinner with a guy named Steve from Orange County. A big gentle giant of a man. I had a bit of an awkward lunch with a vegan woman what was sitting next to a guy who ordered the steak. They started talking at one another about it until the kid next to me managed to change the conversation.
America is such a big beautiful country. Filled with contradictions and surprises. In the middle of this election season, with the right hating the left and race playing such a part of everything - one of the loveliest sights I saw on the train was a Pueblo Indian woman sitting with a table full of Amish people talking about life and laughing with deep joy. This is the America I love.