That happened close to the end of the trip and we got out shortly thereafter and pulled out of the river back where our cars were parked. We were tired but exhilarated, as well as totally cooled off. We hit the road for home and got back in plenty of time for the fireworks.
Friday, July 10, 2015
Rolling on the River
It was a long weekend for the 4th of July this year, hot-hot-hot outside, and staying home and doing nothing in the heat was not an option. Cheryl didn't have plans either so at the last minute, I decided we needed to find something to do in/around fresh water, and we ended up spending the 4th in a raft on the Wenatchee River. We left Friday morning and stopped in Leavenworth for lunch. It must have been close to 100 degrees out and while Leavenworth is a cute little alpine town, we just didn't have it in us to walk around in the blazing sun and wander through looking at the shops and
things. Instead we continued straight through to Wenatchee and checked into our nicely air conditioned room at the Coast Hotel. Look, I admit it, we're wimps when it comes to the heat (and the cold. And if there are lots of bugs). We can power through when we need to, we've been to Thailand together, after all, but we didn't really feel like walking around the booming metropolis that is [not] downtown Wenatchee so we got a few snacks from the health food store across the street and stayed in for the evening. We had to meet the river guide at 9am the next day so we got up early and stopped in the lovely little Anjou Bakery which I'd been to years ago in the town of Cashmere and got coffee and breakfast sandwiches, and then made our way to the meeting spot. A lot of people had the same idea we did for the 4th and there were enough people in the group to fill five rafts. We decided we wanted to go with the guide named Hudson who greeted us when we arrived, and pounced on a nice looking family of 4 from Virginia who were vacationing in the Northwest and suggested they go in Hudson's raft too.
We had a blast. The river wasn't running super-fast, mostly class II, I'd say, with a few thrilling class III parts that were really fun. The Virginians were nice company, Ray and Kathy were the mom and dad, and Tracy and Steven were their high-school and college-age daughter and son. Hudson helped us get to know each other by asking a lot of questions (mostly water-activity-related), and pointed out interesting things on the river (like Steve Miller's vacation house; we should have knocked on the door and solved the age-old mystery of what the hell a "pompitous of love" is), while teaching us how to paddle for maximum efficiency, and expertly steering our raft.
We stopped about a third of the way down for a lunch of sandwiches and lemonade and for a cooling swim. Then, we were back in the rafts and heading downstream. There were some pretty gnarly rapids on the last two thirds of the way, and two of the other rafts got stuck on the rocks and a couple people even went overboard. Hudson steered us toward one of the floaters and when we got our raft right next to him, I, employing the rescue technique Hudson had taught us, grabbed the lapels of his life jacket, pushed him down enough to gain some extra buoyancy, and then pulled him up and into the raft. Dude outweighed me by a good many pounds but he popped right up and right into our raft. I will note this heroic (my assessment) rescue in the unlikely event that I decide to join the Coast Guard.
That happened close to the end of the trip and we got out shortly thereafter and pulled out of the river back where our cars were parked. We were tired but exhilarated, as well as totally cooled off. We hit the road for home and got back in plenty of time for the fireworks.
That happened close to the end of the trip and we got out shortly thereafter and pulled out of the river back where our cars were parked. We were tired but exhilarated, as well as totally cooled off. We hit the road for home and got back in plenty of time for the fireworks.
Friday, June 19, 2015
Because Sometimes You End up in Trenton
What can I say? The bf was at Fort Dix for two weeks and his birthday was going to be while he was there, so I cashed in some miles, flew to Philly, took a train to Trenton, and experienced New Jersey for a few days. There are parts of New Jersey which are quite beautiful; Trenton is not one of them. But the unincorporated village where we stayed was pleasant enough, a neighborhood right against the Delaware River, with row-houses and a light rail station, and we could easily get to the quaint village of Bordentown from there, it being a pretty slice of Rockwellian Americana with boutiques and nice restaurants. The real draw to the area for me (besides the bf, of course) was the Grounds for Sculpture, a 42-acre sculpture garden with mostly giant installation pieces and a fancy restaurant in its midst. The restaurant is boldly named Rat's (after the Wind in the Willows character, but still). Gary had been there once before for a brief visit and a great meal and wanted to spend more time, and I was intrigued by the idea of giant pieces of art in the middle of New Jersey.
We arrived in the early evening on a perfect night. It was sunny and somewhere between warm but not hot and cool but not cold; there was no humidity and no breeze, it was just perfect out. We spent two hours strolling through the grounds, ambling down trails, and wandering into hedged gardens. We enjoyed the view of the adjacent lake and had fun admiring (and not admiring) the sculptures. The resident peacocks were out in full force and showing off. It could not have been a more pleasant way to spend an evening, which was topped by a spectacular dinner at Rat's (seriously, the place is called Rat's). We had crispy fried shrimp to start (here's a secret I've learned at dim sum which was employed here: prawns + mayo = yummy treat), followed by roasted duck, steak, and molten chocolate cake for dessert. I'm totally over the whole lava-cake thing, but the rest of dinner was fantastic.
We arrived in the early evening on a perfect night. It was sunny and somewhere between warm but not hot and cool but not cold; there was no humidity and no breeze, it was just perfect out. We spent two hours strolling through the grounds, ambling down trails, and wandering into hedged gardens. We enjoyed the view of the adjacent lake and had fun admiring (and not admiring) the sculptures. The resident peacocks were out in full force and showing off. It could not have been a more pleasant way to spend an evening, which was topped by a spectacular dinner at Rat's (seriously, the place is called Rat's). We had crispy fried shrimp to start (here's a secret I've learned at dim sum which was employed here: prawns + mayo = yummy treat), followed by roasted duck, steak, and molten chocolate cake for dessert. I'm totally over the whole lava-cake thing, but the rest of dinner was fantastic.
Friday, May 22, 2015
A Perfect Piece of Salmon
| country living |
Gary and I discussed whether living on Orcas full-time would be fun, or would the small-town life feel cloying and the island feel remote. It's a tough call. It is so freakin' beautiful out there, it's had to imagine being bored or feeling closed off, especially when Seattle is just two-and-a-half hours away. If one were of independent means or say, worked from home (hey... wait a minute!!) what would be the problem? For now I think the proximity is good enough, and I'm looking forward to hitting some of the other islands soon. This was my third trip to Orcas in 18 months, but Lopez and San Juan are beckoning too.
It was back to Doe Bay on this trip and while it was a little chillier than last time with Cheryl, we still had gorgeous weather and plenty of sun. We roamed around the island on Friday, poking into the shops, driving down roads that just ended at the water, and driving up to the Mt. Constitution lookout point which didn't offer quite the same clear views as last time but was spectacular even so. We drove back into Eastsound at dinner time for wood-fired pizza and then checked into our yurt at the Doe Bay Resort. Cheryl and I stayed in one of the little cabins last time but the yurts are situated closer to the water and I liked the idea of being in a fully made bed while essentially being in a tent. The yurt was definitely comfy-cozy if a little cold at night, but soaking in the hot tubs before going to bed definitely helped.
| our little yurt in the woods - far right |
| if you had to camp, this is where you'd want your tent to be |
| french toast |
| at Doe Bay Garden |
| rock shrimp with spinach |
| a perfect plate of salmon |
On Sunday we got up early and went to the Brown Bear Bakery for quiche and a chocolate muffin ("muffin" being a term used loosely, this was a giant piece of chocolate cake shaped like a muffin) and then on to our last excursion which was a 3-hour sea kayaking tour. The sun had come out in earnest by this point, and the weather was perfect for a paddle along the shore, looking out at the islands, and enjoying being nearly eye level with the fat harbor seals frolicking on some rocks.
Another fantastic weekend in the Pacific Northwest.
Monday, May 4, 2015
Nashville - the Athens of the South
Seriously? Yep, that's what they call it. I've never been to Greece so who am I to argue, AND, the Parthanon is there. It may not be THE Parthanon, but it's damn close. It's a scale replica built for the 1897 Tennessee Centennial Exposition and resides in the middle of what is now Centennial Park in Nashville, and in keeping with the original which was a temple to the goddess Athena, there is a 42-foot statue of one scary looking broad inside.

The main reason for the trip North from Birmingham was two-fold with one of the folds being coincidentally Greek-related. It was to visit the bookstore opened a few years ago by Ann Patchett, one of my favorite writers. She first made an impression on me with Bel Canto in the early 2000s and I've read most of her other books ince then; State of Wonder blew me away and Run is a page-turner, The Magician's Assistant is filled with sadness and kindness and sweetness and hope. The name of Ann's shop is Parnassus Books, named after Mt. Parnassus in Greece, home of the muses and thus a place for poetry, music, and learning. Ann has said in interviews that she wanted the store to be the the bookstore of her childhood, small, personal, a place where the booksellers knew you and knew what you read. She wanted it to be a place to hang out, to read, and to escape. The bookstore of my childhood wasn't a small independent shop like Ann had during her childhood in Nashville, it was the Walden Books in the mall in Sacramento - but I know exactly what she means. It was standard procedure when going to the mall as a child with my parents that I would make my way to the Walden Books and they would pick me up there when they were done shopping. I loved that store. It was small and people left you alone. I have nothing against the Barnes & Nobles of the world, it's wonderful to have so much variety on hand, but it's not the same. Ann's store is delightful, warm, and inviting. As I was wandering around, someone smiled and asked if I needed help finding anything, and when purchases were made (I bought a memoir by Ann's late friend, the writer Lucy Grealy, and the book Ann wrote about their friendship after Lucy died), the lovely lady behind the counter gave me some backstory about the books and the order in which Ann recommends they be read. We weren't there long, and I was a tiny bit disappointed that I didn't get to meet Ann (she was either in the back or out at that moment, the lady who checked us out said she was in that day) but it definitely felt like a special experience to be in the Parnassus of the South.
The second of the two-fold itinerary for Nashville was to go to Prince's Hot Chicken Shack. I saw it listed on some random list of the best fried chicken places in the country, and that struck me as a good enough reason to try it. We were still a little high on the fried chicken we had a the fancy gastropub in Charlotte, and Prince's was a 180-degree turn in terms of ambiance (think gas station back room meets diner) but the chicken was great, and the the experience seemed very "down home."
There was a lady selling home-baked slices of cake out of the shop; it was unclear in what way she was associated with Prince's other than the fact that she was inside it, but one of her offerings was caramel cake and we are suckers for anything caramel around here. The cake was ridiculously sugary and good and the chicken was delicious. We weren't looking for super-spicy, just flavorful and crispy, and I had read on-line that if you don't like it HOT (as in spicy), don't even order the medium, so we went with the mild, which was plenty hot, and the plain which was basic fried chicken. I'd give the mild at least three stars on any Thai food scale, but it was very tasty and the plain was just great. Both were served on slices of white bread and topped with pickle slices. The Kentucky Derby started about 10 minutes after we sat down so we watched the race while waiting for our meal. Some guy wandering around the place was packing a huge sidearm in the elastic waistband of his size-enormous jean-shorts. He seemed to know everyone and I saw him go into the kitchen although it didn't appear that he worked there. I guess he needed the gun since he clearly wouldn't be out-running anyone. This is the South.

The main reason for the trip North from Birmingham was two-fold with one of the folds being coincidentally Greek-related. It was to visit the bookstore opened a few years ago by Ann Patchett, one of my favorite writers. She first made an impression on me with Bel Canto in the early 2000s and I've read most of her other books ince then; State of Wonder blew me away and Run is a page-turner, The Magician's Assistant is filled with sadness and kindness and sweetness and hope. The name of Ann's shop is Parnassus Books, named after Mt. Parnassus in Greece, home of the muses and thus a place for poetry, music, and learning. Ann has said in interviews that she wanted the store to be the the bookstore of her childhood, small, personal, a place where the booksellers knew you and knew what you read. She wanted it to be a place to hang out, to read, and to escape. The bookstore of my childhood wasn't a small independent shop like Ann had during her childhood in Nashville, it was the Walden Books in the mall in Sacramento - but I know exactly what she means. It was standard procedure when going to the mall as a child with my parents that I would make my way to the Walden Books and they would pick me up there when they were done shopping. I loved that store. It was small and people left you alone. I have nothing against the Barnes & Nobles of the world, it's wonderful to have so much variety on hand, but it's not the same. Ann's store is delightful, warm, and inviting. As I was wandering around, someone smiled and asked if I needed help finding anything, and when purchases were made (I bought a memoir by Ann's late friend, the writer Lucy Grealy, and the book Ann wrote about their friendship after Lucy died), the lovely lady behind the counter gave me some backstory about the books and the order in which Ann recommends they be read. We weren't there long, and I was a tiny bit disappointed that I didn't get to meet Ann (she was either in the back or out at that moment, the lady who checked us out said she was in that day) but it definitely felt like a special experience to be in the Parnassus of the South.
The second of the two-fold itinerary for Nashville was to go to Prince's Hot Chicken Shack. I saw it listed on some random list of the best fried chicken places in the country, and that struck me as a good enough reason to try it. We were still a little high on the fried chicken we had a the fancy gastropub in Charlotte, and Prince's was a 180-degree turn in terms of ambiance (think gas station back room meets diner) but the chicken was great, and the the experience seemed very "down home." Saturday, April 25, 2015
Concord, North Carolina - A Howl of Dismay
| This is playing on a continuous loop on a big screen on our floor; the only possible reason I can think of for this is to make the guests feel like they're on an acid trip. |
If you look hard enough, you can find a great meal anywhere, even in the Southeast, land of chain restaurants and processed food. Last night, we found the Soul Gastrolounge in Charlotte where the Southern fried chicken wings were divinely crunchy and the Korean BBQ wings had a sweet kick of chili. The wings and an avocado salad made a great dinner, followed by tiny pastries filled with huckleberries and goat cheese with a scoop of lemon-vanilla ice cream for dessert. The neighborhood, on the edge of downtown Charlotte and filled with trendy restaurants, wine bars, and a few boutiques and antique shops, prove that hipsters exist in all parts of the country.![]() |
| from the Soul Gastrolounge website; get there early or be prepared for a LONG wait.. |
Monday, March 16, 2015
Something Fishy in the State of Georgia
I hadn't been to Atlanta for years. When I worked at Midori Ribbon, I used to make the trip twice a year for tradeshows, and always had a lot of fun with Peter and Shelagh, my Midori compatriots and tradeshow buddies. It was always really cold though (February) or just downright unbearable (second show was in July), so going there in March was a pleasant change. We had a free night at the Hyatt due to a seriously unfortunate incident at the Hyatt in Vancouver (don't ask) and made the two hour drive from Birmingham to Atlanta last Saturday with a plan to spend Sunday at the Georgia Aquarium. It's one of the biggest in the world and the plan was to get there when it opened to avoid the crowds. What we didn't plan on was forgetting that March 8th was the first day of Daylight Saving Time, and not getting up particularly early anyway. By the time we got to the aquarium, it had been open for a couple of hours, and while it was crowded, it's so large and the design is such that the masses don't really impede one's enjoyment. There aren't a ton of tanks but the ones they have are mostly enormous and they comprise four main galleries; there is also a dolphin show (which is truly awful), and various theaters, add-on experiences, and tours. We just visited the galleries and saw the dolphin show (which I can now not un-see), and had a great time.
| scary albino alligator |
| lobby of the Hyatt |
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)








