Washed Ashore

puffin

We stopped in Old Town Bandon for lunch and came across this exhibit by Washed Ashore. Artists create sculptures out of trash washed up on the beach and collected by volunteers. The artists are very creative in how they choose to use the found materials, and it’s fun to examine each sculpture up close to see what they’re made of, but there’s also a message here. I can’t help but think of all the garbage that’s not collected and reused. Check them out at http://washedashore.org

fish

 

This sea jelly is made of plastic bottles.

This sea jelly is made entirely of plastic bottles and bags.

 

That coral rock is styrofoam.

That coral rock is styrofoam.

Jacksonville, Oregon

Here we are in cute little J’ville. The town is so perfect we felt like we were on a movie set. Lots of cute shops, restaurants, galleries, wine-tasting venues, and even an impressive Halloween-themed show by the local art league. It was fun wandering around pretending like we lived here.

 

High Desert Museum

We hesitated to spend the $15 per person admission price for this museum just south of Bend. $15 is not much for a quality museum, but you never know how good a local museum is going in. (I’ve long ago given up trusting online ratings.) But there was this ominous note on my typed travel itinerary: “Do it!” In red font. With the exclamation point. Can’t remember what motivated me to add that, but you can’t argue with that kind of message, so we went. And it was worth every penny.

Here’s what we liked.

Outstanding exhibit on the history of Oregon’s High Desert, including the portion of the Oregon Trail that ran through it. This is where the oxen and mules started to die from exhaustion and lack of food and water. Families who brought more than one wagon had to consolidate their belongings into one. Out went the cast iron stoves, furniture that had been in the family for generations, and other large items they had hauled for thousands of miles. Some families had to dispense with even functional, daily items like pots and pans and clothing. The High Desert was where the Oregon Dream began to fall apart for many.

abandoned dreams

abandoned dreams

Rescued animal presentations. Tumbleweed, the porcupine, was happy to share his lunch hour with us, eschewing the non-seasonal apple to chew on the more autumnal choices of pumpkin and parsnip. Does he know something we don’t know?

Tumbleweed

Tumbleweed

The river otters were absolutely delightful! They began a dizzying game of Follow-the-Leader throughout their newly constructed habitat—under the water, into their den, out the back exit to their island, back into the water, rolling onto their backs, diving underwater, then heads back up to see if the wildlife presenter was ready to dispense with some of the smelt treats she had for them.

Is it time for lunch yet?

Is it time for lunch?

Roaming through the 135-acre property, we came across several High Desert habitats: desert (of course), cultivated farm, stream, pond, forest—each habitat diverse and beautiful in its own way.

pond habitat

pond habitat

Also loved the exhibit on prehistoric buzzsaw sharks (What???) Never heard of these guys before. Artistic renderings of these ancient fish, based on fossils of their buzzsaw-shaped jaws found in Idaho, Australia, and China, are incredible. The exhibit on the WPA art projects—architecture, paintings, sculpture, literature, and theater—was fascinating as well, especially to consider how deeply the people of Oregon were affected not only by the training and employment of artisans during the Depression, but also by the enjoyment derived from their works.

Dual sculptures, Blanket Stories, by artist Marie Watt emphasizes the importance of storytelling in past and current American cultures. First she stacked blankets donated by Oregon residents in a column almost reaching the ceiling, each with its own story written on a tag attached to the blanket. Fascinating to read about the people who created them or the mysterious circumstances by which they came to be in the possession of the donors. Then she carved a rendering of her blanket column in pine, reminiscent of a Native American talking stick used in council meetings.

Overall, a very rewarding experience. Do it!

Blanket Stories

Blanket Stories

 

a blanket story

a blanket story

Hood River

Much more interesting than The Dalles is Hood River, a town 22 miles west and also on the Columbia River at the mouth of the Hood River–surprise, surprise! Among its claims to fame are the invention of wind surfing (it gets quite breezy here on the Columbia) and several very noteworthy craft breweries. It’s also a cute town to walk around. Great coffee shops, independent boutiques, and restaurants.

Downtown Hood River

Downtown Hood River

 

 

Riverfront Park

Riverfront Park

 

07-buttercups

 

pFriem Family Brewing

pFriem Family Brewing

 

Full Sail Brewing

Full Sail Brewing

 

Double Mountain Brewing

Double Mountain Brewing

 

Big Horse Brewing

Big Horse Brewing

Bonnie in the rain

Bucket list item realized last night: Bonnie Raitt in concert! We sat for three hours in a steady rain (Oregon!) and got drenched to the bone, but it was worth it. McMenamin’s Edgefield resort in Troutdale was loads of fun, if a bit muddy. I’m glad I allowed for a day off in our itinerary today. We’re cleaning up the mess and doing laundry.

Bonnie Raitt at McMenamin's Edgefield Resort

Bonnie Raitt at McMenamin’s Edgefield Resort

 

Don't let the brightness fool you. It rained steadily all day.

Don’t let the brightness fool you. It rained steadily all day.

 

This event was six months in the planning--a great excuse to come to Oregon.

This event was six months in the planning–a great excuse to come to Oregon.

Our familiar

Cava Baja2

After 75 days of packing up and moving on to unfamiliar territory, familiar feels good! Don’t get me wrong: We have loved exploring new places, and that is why we weren’t at all prepared for how good it would feel to come back to something we know.

Over two months ago we began this journey in Madrid, a city I expected we’d find too large and uninteresting. Compared to most of the cities we have stayed in, there really aren’t that many sights to see here in the capital. I thought we’d spend the first week in Madrid recuperating from jet lag and adjusting to the language difference. And after driving 4200 miles through the rest of Spain, we’d spend the last week in Madrid winding down and preparing for our flight home.

Madrid may be the largest city in Spain, but the distinct personalities of its neighborhoods, or barrios, give it such character. It is the kind of city you want to wander in. Within minutes you can stroll from the historic barrios of Palacio and Sol to the art museum promenade of Retiro, the international bohemia of Las Letras, the tapas bars of La Latina, or the chic boutiques of Chueca and Malasaña.

After ditching our luggage in the same apartment we stayed in in September—quickest check-in yet, all our host had to do was hand over the keys!—we turned in our third and final rental car and wandered back “home.” We delighted in seeing places we knew and knowing where we wanted to go. We stopped at an outdoor café on the Gran Vía (it’s still warm enough to have tables out in November!), ordered a couple of beers without having to worry if we got all the verb tenses right, munched on our daily dose of olives, and sat and watched the world go by. No car, no map, no worries. It’s good to be back!