I apologize for the delay. There really is no excuse; since I’ve left the paper I have a whole world of time on my hands — I’ve just used it so far to prepare for my trip up north next week and practicing the guitar (more on that in a later blog post). 

It’s about that time I share my travels to Portland, Ore., where I jetted off to from Thursday to Monday to visit Colin’s sister and brother-in-law. It was a bit of spontaneous trip that evolved out of a Kayak.com search that netted a $200 roundtrip fare. I couldn’t pass that up.

It was my third trip to Portland, but unique in it’s own way that it was the first time I hadn’t been among a large group of travelers. The first was Jessica’s surprise bachelorette party in 2006; the other was Colin’s family Christmas vacation later that year. It worked out perfectly, I was able to roam and window shop while Jess and T.J. worked Thursday and Friday (my favorite thing to do on vacation) and the nights and weekends were packed of local Portland activities. 

Thursday night we were lucky enough to snag a spot in a test audience for an upcoming blockbuster movie scheduled to be released this winter. It was the first time I had ever been involved in something like that, we just showed up and didn’t know what the movie was until we checked out cell phones and went through a metal detector (that was more intense than the TSA in Raleigh/Durham). Annnnd I signed a crazy confidentiality waiver, so I can’t tell you my opinion on it. Guess you’ll have to wait for my compare/contrast post come December. I did read the book, so there’s a lot to compare. *cough* hint *cough*

On Friday, we walked over to the local theater just a few blocks away in NW Portland (the city is broken into quadrants) and caught the production of “Frost/Nixon.” Perfect. Just the right production for a political enthusiast, former member of the media and theater junkie. I was a bit gunshy to write a review in light of recent events, but the acting was brilliant (Bill Christ completely emulated Richard Nixon and his booming voice), pace was excellent and the set was a simple retro 70s throwback with multiple televisions to capture the media sensation of the Nixon resignation. I had never seen the live version before (saw the film) and as always, the intensity of seeing the famed David Frost/Richard Nixon interview re-created on stage by far blew away the cinematic version (which was a bit dull, in my humble opinion… gotta throw that disclaimer in there). 

After the show, we walked over to one of my favorite spots: Voodoo Doughnuts. Last time I visited, we got a variety box full of eccentric doughnuts — some covered with cereal (Cap’n Crunch), sauces (peanut butter) and my personal favorite, Grape Tang. Late at night, the shop was cramped with college bar-hoppers, but I squeezed my way through the munchie madness to grab a “Grape Ape,” which I enjoyed on my walk back. Jessica got something similar to a Boston Creme and T.J.’s favorite is a donut drizzled with Butterfingers. Here they are below:

Saturday I had completely caught up to my jet-lag, which always seems to benefit me more traveling west than east. One of my favorite things to do is just to walk around cities… back in my family (because I have honestly never heard anyone else call it this) we call it “hucking around.” Just going for a meandering walk, never knowing what you’ll find, but embracing the adventure of it all. At any rate, Saturday morning, when I regained my bearings, the three of us (in slightly overcast weather, not bad for Portland) hiked downtown to the Saturday market — a bit of a weekly street fair that’s held under a bridge (how very Portland), complete with local vendors, restaurant tents and musicians, one of which was a banjo-player who strummed furiously with a right hook in place of his hand. He was insanely talented. One large “healthy vegetarian burrito” later, we wandered over to the waterfront and down to a small coffee shop to warm up. If nothing else, the only thing I need on a long walk is coffee. We regained our footing there and decided to walk over one of Portland’s bridges spanning the river towards the science museum for an Omni show. I haven’t been to one of those in years, not since the Boston Museum of Science, where I used to go all the time with my grandfather. It was a short film on the science of adrenaline and risk, based mostly on sky-divers, basejumpers, etc. If anything, I learned I’m not a thrill-seeker. At least not in that sense. Here’s a photo on our walk back from the museum:

With T.J. in front of the bridge we crossed — twice — on foot.

Later, after resting my poor feet that traveled in plastic flip-flops, we discovered the most amazing Thai restaurant, Pok Pok, on the east side of the river. Then we infiltrated the hipsters at the Portland Comedy Festival at a small theater, where we incidentally and accidentally caught Janeane Garofolo’s stand-up performance. Not bad. Very Portland, right?

Finally, on our last full day, we climbed into the old Jeep Wrangler for a trip to Washington to see the lava caves near the base of Mt. St. Helen. It was my first excursion into Washington and the first time I’d seen more than a foot of snow in more than a year. I felt like I had time-traveled back to December 2007 in New England upon exiting the Jeep and seeing I’d have to walk through a half-mile of snow to the ape caves. Luckily, I had traded my flippies for something a little more hiking-appropriate. Because of the snow, we had to descend into the cave with a small rope, but once we go down there, it was amazing how dark, quiet and damp the 3/4-mile trail was. Thank God for that awkward lamp that was secured to my forehead.

I was the guinea pig.

With Jess, about to enter the infinite abyss.

It’s what the cool kids wear.

Finally, on Monday morning I trekked back to the Max stop at PGE Park and headed to PDX for my flight. It ended up being diverted to Corpus Christi (connection was in Houston) due to weather, for THREE hours. As luck (?) would have it, my connection was delayed too, and I ended up barely making it after my name was called for final boarding just minutes after getting off my first flight. I didn’t get back until Fayetteville until 5 a.m. the next morning. Yeesh.