Olympic National Park Part I

We left Portland early afternoon on Sunday after visiting the Apple Store, Best Buy, and Five Guys. Luca and Salpa both wanted to get new computers, iPads, iPhones, etc., and the exchange rate makes it a lot cheaper to purchase here. By the time we left Portland, our little rental car had 3 computers, 2 GoPros, 2 DSLRs, and a handful of iPhones, iPods, and iPads. Thank goodness no one tried to steal our car!

We stopped at Five Guys on our way to Cannon Beach, which was a compromise between McDonalds and a salad. For some strange reason, Luca and Salpa like McDonalds here, which I gave them crap for pretty much the entire trip. Every time they would say something like, “The chicken nuggets taste better here!” I would yell back “It’s not even real chicken!”

The drive to Cannon Beach was pretty and uneventful. It started raining as we approached the coast, and was raining pretty hard by the time we got to Cannon Beach. I had never seen or been in the Pacific Ocean, so I was determined to get out and go down to the water. Growing up near Lake Michigan, I’m used to beaches and bodies of water where you can’t see the other side, but this beach was unlike any beach I’ve ever visited. Haystack Rock, a 72-meter sea stack, sits adjacent to the beach and is reachable at low tide.  When we got back to the car, we were completely drenched (the one raincoat and one umbrella we brought on the trip proved to be inadequate for my Cannon Beach adventure), but it was worth it.

Futile attempts at staying dry.

The weather restricted photo taking. Best shot of Haystack Rock we got. :(

We had booked a room at Quinault River Inn on Lake Quinault for Sunday night. Lake Quinault is the first major attraction/landmark in the southwest portion of Olympic National Park. Most of the drive from Cannon Beach to Lake Quinault was in sparsely populated areas, so when we saw the sign for Artic Tavern, we jumped at the chance for dinner. This was the definition of a local place. The entire bar/restaurant stared at the three of us when we walked in the door. We agreed that it reminded us of Merlotte’s from True Blood, but with less people and (hopefully) no vampires. Then again, we weren’t too far away from Twilight areas, so who knows...

Artic Tavern aka Washington's Merlotte's

We arrived at our hotel around 10ish, so we didn't see Lake Quinault until morning. It was beautiful! I wish that we had had more time to spend there, but we had booked an apartment in Port Angeles for the next two nights, and had a lot of the park to see before we got there. Luca and I went for a run around a section of the lake in the morning before we left, part of which included the Quinault Rain Forest. So now I can cross "go for a run in a rain forest" off the bucket list :] I got a chance to speak with the owner of the hotel while the boys were finishing packing and loading the car. He gave us some suggestions of places to stop along the way to Port Angeles, asked where we were from, where we were heading, the typical traveling small talk. Then I mentioned how I had recently read this incredible book about the University of Washington's 8+ that went to the 1936 Berlin Olympics. "The Boys in the Boat," he said, "we love that book out here!" That's the funny thing about the sport. One second you think you're talking to someone who doesn't know the difference between a coxswain and stroke seat, and the next second you realize that you both speak "rowing." It's like slipping into dialect when you meet someone new and find out that you're from the same region. I told him that I rowed on the club team while I was at State. He then told me that he owns a house on Lake Quinault, and that his neighbor's daughter has won two Olympic gold medals. There is definitely something in the water on the Olympic Peninsula.

We left Lake Quinault around noon and headed for the Hoh Rain Forest. The owner of the hotel mentioned that there was a nice place to stop for breakfast (err... lunch) about 20 miles away. 4G coverage was non-existent, so I was a little concerned about not being able to find it or going to the wrong place. Kalaloch Lodge was the only thing around for miles, though, so I clearly didn't need to worry about that one. We had clam chowder with a great view of the Pacific. The weather gods were on our side again that day, and when we had finished our molten lava cake, the sun was poking out from behind the clouds. I was all for going down to the water, and Luca and Salpa were more willing to join now that it wasn't pouring outside. This beach was neat, too, though different from Cannon Beach. The part of the beach furthest away from the water contains piles of tree trunks, which we were told came from the rain forest. We had fun jumping off the trees (Luca and Salpa) and playing I'm a bird in the waves (Megan where were you!?) before hitting the road again.

Kalaloch  Beach

Our next stop of the day was the Hoh Rain Forest. The entrance to the park wasn't too far from Kalaloch Lodge, but we had to drive a good 45 minutes into the park to go to the rain forest. I've never seen so much green in my life. Every inch of every tree was covered in moss, often inches thick. Branches bent from the weight of the moss on the trees, and the foliage was so thick that we stayed dry even when it started pouring. Which was a good thing considering we only had one umbrella ;]

We hadn't gotten gas since Portland and had less than a hundred miles left in the tank when we got to the Hoh Rain Forest visitor center. We didn't know exactly how far away the next town was, and our phones didn't have service either. Why does it always seem like you don't have service at the times when you really need a cell phone the most?! Thankfully, we made it to Forks without any trouble and stopped at the first gas station we saw. It was pretty obvious from all of the "Twilight" signs that the town has embraced it's stardom from the books and movies. None of us are Twilight fans, but I had seen pictures of La Push Beach, and it looked beautiful. We decided to drive out to Second Beach, which just happened to look like the prettiest beach on Google Images. The beach is about a mile walk through the woods from where you have to park, but the path is pretty and the beach itself is more than worth the walk. The sky was so blue that I had trouble believing La Push and Forks are (according to the book) rainy and foggy year round.

Hoh Rain Forest

Hoh Rain Forest

La Push - Second Beach

Found a new friend on our way back to the car.

We spent awhile on Second Beach enjoying the beautiful sun, waves, and salt water air, so we decided to save Lake Crescent for the next day (and the next blog post). Thankfully, our drive to Port Angeles was a straight shot from Forks, and didn't take too long. We couldn't pass up stopping on the side of the road to admire the sun as it set on Lake Crescent. Such a beautiful end to the day!

Lake Crescent at sunset

Portland

I just got back from a little over a week trip with two friends in the Pacific Northwest. Back in the fall, my friend Luca and I started discussing taking a trip to celebrate our birthdays together. Luca was my roommate when I lived in Germany the first time. Originally from Italy, he currently lives in London, so the last time I saw him was when I visited him in London while I was living in Freiburg last year. Luca’s friend from home, Francesco, whom I had met when I visited Luca in Ravenna, agreed to join us, too.

As I tend to be a bit verbose when it comes to blogging about trips (partially for my personal benefit—it's amazing how much you forget if you don’t write about your trips as well as take pictures), I’ve decided to write about my trip in a series of blog posts. Portland is up first!

My flight to Portland was out of Lansing with a connection at O’Hare, which a) allowed me to work a full day and b) was oddly cheaper than flying out of Detroit. While I was waiting in the line (the line that contained all of two passengers) to check-in, I heard someone speaking German. I turned around to hear the elderly women in line ahead of me speaking in what I guessed was Bavarian or Austrian German. I learned that the two women were sisters, one living in Munich and one in the Lansing area. The woman living in Munich didn’t speak English and her sister wasn’t allowed to go through security with her because she didn’t have a picture ID. My heart broke when the sisters waved to each other after the German woman and I went through security, knowing that that might be the last time they ever see each other.

My flight to O’Hare was delayed, so I spent the hour or so waiting with the woman from Munich, checking on our connecting flights and making small talk. I wished that I could have seen her to her next flight; but due to the delay, I literally had to sprint Home Alone style through O’Hare and made it to my gate with seconds to spare.

I landed in Portland around 11pm PDT, and Luca and Francesco picked me up from the airport. It was so good to see them both! We headed back to the apartment we had rented in Sellwood, a cute residential neighborhood in Southeast Portland. We spent a couple hours catching up and discussing what we wanted to do the next day before heading to bed.

We decided to spend Friday morning hiking in the Columbia River Gorge, which I had heard was absolutely breathtaking. After stopping for a quick coffee at Heart Coffee Roasters (more on that later), we got on I-84 and drove a mere thirty minutes out of the city to Multnomah Falls. It amazes me how quickly one can get to nature from Portland. The city did an exceptional job relative to other U.S. cities of discouraging suburban sprawl. It rained on the drive to the falls, but had pretty much stopped by the time we arrived.

Multnomah Falls are breathtaking and an easy trip if you’re short on time and/or energy. They’re literally right next to the highway, so you could park, walk the two minutes to the “main” scenic viewpoint, take a few pictures, and head back to your car. We decided to hike up to the top of the falls, which was also an easy “hike.”

Multnomah Falls

GoPros make for easier selfies.

After we got to the bottom of the falls, we headed back to the car to drive to Wahclella Falls. Unfortunately our phones were being stupid, and neither one of us was able to get Google Maps to load. Thankfully, the trailhead for Wahclella Falls is also near I-84, and I remembered that the directions had said to exit the highway at the Bonneville Dam and Fish Hatchery. Unfortunately, Luca got his headache of the day en route to Wahclella Falls, so he told Francesco and I to go while he waited in the car. This trail wasn’t touristy like the one that goes to Multnomah Falls, and that was a nice change. Everything was covered and moss and so green, including the snake that slithered across the path just in front of us (I didn’t even scream!). Wahclella Falls are not as massive or tall as Multnomah Falls, but they’re still impressive in their own right.

The hike to Wahclella Falls. So green!

Wahclella Falls

By the time Francesco and I got back to the car, the three of us were starving. We headed back to Portland and began searching for the famous  food carts. We walked to the first one we found on Google Maps (Luca’s phone had started working, mine was still being dumb). After a quick survey of the options, I settled on chana masala from an Indian food cart and Luca and Francesco got some egg burger thing.  While we were eating, we overheard two guys talking frantically to someone on the phone about water. Portland has (rightfully) earned its reputation for being home to interesting people, and we assumed that they were probably freaking out about nothing. We were slightly wrong...

After we finished eating, we headed in search of Powell’s Books. It is hands down the coolest bookstore I have ever been in, and we spent an hour or two walking through the various aisles and sections. They even have a rare book room! But we kept noticing signs forbidding the use of drinking fountains. After remembering what I thought was a crazy conversation we had overheard while eating, I decided to ask one of the employees if they knew what was going on. Apparently they had detected E-Coli in the water, and there was a 24-hour tap water ban. Gross!!

Powell's Books

I found the German Lit section (obviously)

After browsing the books and a quick walk along the riverfront, we headed back to our apartment in Sellwood. We stopped at a grocery store to pick up bottled water on the way back, but there was literally no water on the shelves. We ended up getting a pack of Lipton Iced Tea, which was fine but definitely not water. Later that night, we went to Hopworks UrbanBrewery. They had a really yummy kale salad and a good list of beers and ciders. #beerissaferthanwater.

Luca and I went on a run the next morning before heading downtown for the Portland Saturday Market. It is supposed to be the oldest continuously operated outdoor market in the US, and there are a lot of unique arts and crafts stalls to check out. We spent a lot of our time at a stall that sold cement faces with exaggerated expressions. Luca decided to get a set for his flat, and we had a lot of fun arranging the expressions. 

After we finished browsing the market, we grabbed a quick lunch at one of the food vendors and headed back to Powells (what can I say, we're book nerds). We did a bit more shopping downtown and then headed to the riverfront to rent bikes for the remainder of the afternoon. We had a lot of fun biking up and down the Willamette, and got to see different parts of Portland than we would have in a car or by foot.

We grabbed dinner at another food cart in the Hawthorne neighborhood before making the drive up to Pittock Mansion. The mansion is up in the West Hills and offers spectacular views of the city and Mount Hood. We spent some time exploring the grounds and taking pictures before heading back downtown for another photo opportunity: the White Stag sign. We had to dodge oncoming traffic to get a good picture, but it was totally worth it. :]

Portland and Mt Hood

Next up: Cannon Beach and the road trip to Olympic National Park!

Long Distance Book Club: Middlesex

From Long Distance Book club reviews to travel stories to To-Do in 2014 updates, I have quite a bit of blogging to catch up on! 

April's Long Distance Book of the Month was Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides. Middlesex is, on the surface, the story of a hermaphrodite: Calliope Helen Stephanides, who was born a girl in Detroit in 1960; "and then again, as a teenage boy, in an emergency room near Petoskey, Michigan, in August of 1974."  The book in narrated by the adult "Cal," who works in the Foreign Service and is stationed in Berlin. To understand how Callie came to be Cal, the author takes the reader back in time to the village of Bithynios in present day Turkey that Callie's grandparents fled from during the Greco-Turkish War and the burning of the city of Smyrna. 

When I first began reading Middlesex, I assumed the plot would focus on the tension identified in the opening passage. We know from page 1 that Callie was born a girl, was raised as a girl, and is now a man. However, the book is about much more than gender identity and what it means to be a female, male, or "middle." It is, in many respects, an immigrant story with an unusual twist. The core of the novel doesn't center on Callie becoming Cal, but on the Greeks becoming Americans. It details the trials that face Cal's grandparents as they move to their new home in Detroit, Michigan. I can see Cal's grandmother's anxiousness about the "New World" in my own grandmother, who, though a first generation American, maintained a strong Ukrainian identity. I also enjoyed reading about Detroit during its golden years. As a child of the nineties, I often find it difficult to remember that Detroit used to be a wealthy, vibrant city. I felt that the author did a great job of weaving a fictional family's story into the true events of the 1967 Detroit race riot and white flight to the suburbs.

While I would definitely recommend reading Middlesex, I found the ending to be a bit unsatisfying. Without giving away too many spoilers, I feel that the author was over ambitious in the number of themes and events he incorporated into the plot. As I mentioned, in many respects, the core of the novel isn't even about Callie's change to Cal. And I think, in part because of this, the author misses his opportunity to show the reader that Callie is Cal. I found myself questioning if I would have bought this decision had the author not told us about Cal's decision from the first page. One could argue that perhaps the author is trying to illustrate the fluidity or unimportance of gender identity, but if that is the case, why does Callie feel a need to be Cal?

If only this were a non-Long Distance Book Club, and we could discuss this over wine... ;)

Ten Best Coffeehouses

I am addicted to coffee. Truthfully. I get headaches if I don't have coffee before 3pm. I once quit a three-week cleanse two days into it because the cleanse didn't allow coffee and I couldn't concentrate in class. My friends will never let me forget the time that I got to the team tent at Head of the Rock before the coffee did. There may have been tears...

Some people might call this addiction a problem, but given all of the recent studies about coffee's numerous health benefits, I see no problem in feeding my coffee addiction. & as if I needed further validation of my coffee drinking habits, 7 out of the 10 best coffeehouses in the U.S. are located in cities that I had already planned on visiting this year. Clearly, the universe is trying to tell me something here!

I was able to visit two of them on my recent trip to D.C. and Virginia. Our first stop was Peregrine Espresso in D.C. Peregrine has three locations, and we checked out the one on Capitol Hill near the Eastern Market. This place is my kind of coffee place, meaning that they stick to the basics and they do the basics really well. No wasting time on mint mochas or caramel marvels and forgetting how to make a latte. 

Latte Art at Peregrine

 They had a decent amount of indoor and outdoor seating, and we didn't have trouble finding a table at all. This felt like a great place to grab coffee and catch up on the NY Times on the weekend. And the best part: a water bowl on the patio to welcome a coffee lover's best friend.

The next stop on my list was the Mudhouse in Charlottesville, Virginia. My parents and I snuck in a quick trip here between dinner on the Downtown Mall and dodging a rain storm, so unfortunately we didn't get to spend as much time here. I could picture myself spending a great deal of time with my Macbook and a massive stack of books in college, and I'm sure it's frequented by the UVA students who are willing to go a bit further for a great cup of coffee. 

Similar to Peregrine Espresso, there is ample outdoor seating at Mudhouse, and arguably better opportunities for people watching. Mudhouse is located on Charlotteville's bustling Downtown Mall, a pedestrian only section of the city lined with restaurants and boutiques. While they don't do latte art, they do roast their own beans. I'm no coffee expert, just an avid fan, but I would suspect that the quality of beans they choose and their roasting process contributes to the "richness" of the coffee.

Both places are definitely worth a trip if you're in the area!

Cherry Blossom Festival

Last week my parents, dog, and I took a quick trip to D.C. to visit the Cherry Blossom Festival. We left as soon as I got out of work on Tuesday and drove through the night to try and make it into the city before rush hour. After reading warning after warning about the nightmares of driving to the festival, I was pretty sure our only shot was to get to the tidal basin early. Neither my mom nor my dog are able to walk a long distance and the Metro doesn't allow dogs, so parking away from the Mall and commuting in wasn't an option. 

Of course, we got stuck in traffic for over an hour and didn't get into the city until after 9. Yet everything still worked out. We found a too-good-to-be-true spot next to the Jefferson Memorial, and after thoroughly reading all of the signs, realized that we could park there all day for free. The cherry blossoms were in full bloom that day, which apparently only lasts for a 3-4 days out of the three-week long festival. The weather was gorgeous. Sunny, but not too hot. We were worried about Clover doing so much walking, but she absolutely loved it. We let her walk half of the time and then one of us would carry her to give her a rest. Clover lets us carry her like a baby, and there were quite a few people who thought that was the cutest thing. Clover can be quite the ham when crowds of people are giving her attention. 

After we walked around the Tidal Basin and saw the World War II Memorial, we headed in search of food. We skipped breakfast in the hopes of saving time and finding a parking spot, but after walking around for a few hours, we were starving. And perhaps more importantly, in desperate need of coffee. I really wanted to take my parents to Founding Farmers in Foggy Bottom, a restaurant I went to several times while I was in D.C. for a seminar at the Holocaust Museum a few summers ago. It had gotten warm out by this point, though, and we really weren't sure about leaving Clover in the car. Almost serendipitously, my dad found a parking spot a couple blocks away from the restaurant that was in the shade with a breeze. It was just one of those trips where everything seemed to work out just right.

Golden Harvest

Growing up, it was all my mom could do to get me to eat breakfast before school. I was not into eating cereal or oatmeal or toast at 6:30 in the morning, so in middle school my mom and I finally settled on Carnation Instant Breakfast as a compromise. When I joined the rowing team as a college freshman, I quickly became a breakfast fan. Our team would take over a section of one of the dorm's cafeterias and pile our trays full with omelettes, bagels, fruit and smoothies while talking loudly about boat lineups, upcoming regattas, and crew gossip. In hindsight, I'm sure we looked like a crazy cult to the "normal students" who had just stumbled out of bed in search of coffee to get them through their 8ams.

What was I thinking??

Entering the "real world" has put an end to such elaborate breakfasts during the week, however it has made me appreciate and look forward to breakfast and brunch on the weekend that much more. Last weekend, my friend Kate and I decided to try Golden Harvest, a popular local breakfast joint in Lansing's Old Town. We were both Golden Harvest newbies, but thankfully friends who had been there before advised us to get there early, as the line gets long quickly. We got there over half an hour before the restaurant opened, and we still weren't the first ones in line! But thankfully close enough to the front to ensure that we got a table when the door opened a few minutes after 8.

We were greeted with dubstep music and steaming hot coffee the minute we walked inside. There are only a half a dozen tables in the restaurant, so smaller parties, like Kate and I, are asked to share a table. And by asked, I mean told. Golden Harvest is unapologetic about their rules and their vibe, which was one of the reasons I liked it so much. The place screams eclectic, from the building's exterior to the decor on the walls to the food served. In order to maximize our first Golden Harvest experience, Kate and I decided to order two dishes to share. We settled on two of their daily specials: Stella's raspberry pancakes/waffles and a BLT omelette. They did not disappoint, and were both well worth getting up at 6am on a Sunday. I'm sure we'll be back again soon.

Long Distance Book Club: The Boys in the Boat

Like many recent college grads, I am navigating the challenges of the twenty-something-awkward-phase with my closest friends scattered across the U.S. (and the world). iPhones, GChat, Whatsapp, and FaceTime certainly make the distance more manageable, but the decline in shared experiences can be an adjustment. Especially for those like my friends and I who love to talk.

In February, I mentioned my goal of reading more often to one of my best friends who currently lives in Boston. We decided to take on the challenge of reading more together with a Long Distance Book Club. Our first book was The Fault in Our Stars by John Green. A quick read and a tear jerker, I quickly learned how great it was to be able to talk about something that we were doing together, even though we are hundreds of miles apart. Another one of my best friends who currently lives in New York joined, too. While I wish that our Long Distance Book Club could meet in person and include wine like the book club my aunt belongs to, I am grateful that technology makes our book club possible. 

This is what I imagine non-long distance book clubs are really about...

This month, we're reading The Boys in the Boat by Daniel James Brown. The book is a biography of sorts that follows the 8+ (a boat with eight rowers and one coxswain) from the University of Washington as they attempt to qualify for and medal at the 1936 Berlin Olympics. 

Disclosures: I joined my university's rowing club my freshman year and fell in love with the sport. I speak German and Berlin is one of my favorite cities. I have spent a great deal of time research the Holocaust and the rise of Nazism. As my friend Jessica put it, this is basically the perfect book for my interests. I am enthralled by the author's descriptions of the sport during the 1930s. I had no idea how well covered rowing was by sports journalists, gamblers, and the general public. That type of cross-country fanfare doesn't exist today. That being said, I would highly recommend this book to anyone. 

The story centers on the life of Joe Rantz, a boy from an unimaginably difficult childhood who the author met much later in life. Without giving too much of the plot away, Joe was forced to survive on his own at a very young age, and learned that he could not depend on others for his happiness or wellbeing. His lack of ability to trust others puts his chance at racing in the boat slotted for the Olympic trials in jeopardy. 

As one learns in the Prologue (so no spoilers!), "the boat" becomes so special to Joe that he has trouble describing it in words. The author conveys what I think most rowers feel about their "boats" beautifully, stating:

"At first I thought he meant the Husky Clipper, the racing shell in which he had rowed his way to glory. Or did he mean his teammates, the improbable assemblage of young men who had pulled off one of rowing's greatest achievements? Finally, watching Joe struggle for composure over and over, I realized that "the boat" was something more than just the shell or its crew. To Joe, it encompassed but transcended both-- it was something mysterious and almost beyond definition. It was a shared experience-- a singular thing that had unfolded in a golden sliver of time long gone, when nine good-hearted young men strove together, pulled together as one, gave everything they had for one another, bound together forever by pride and respect and love..."

The book is also about the struggle of America during the Great Depression in general. Rowing has traditionally been a sport for the wealthy and elite. Yet the boys in this boat did not come from the families of wealthy businessmen, politicians, or heirs, like the boys in the boats they raced out East. These boats came from families of loggers and miners and the unemployed and hungry. These were the boys who made it through high school and to college against all odds. And then, against all odds, to Berlin.