Moving: at once both exasperating and elating, like winning a lifetime supply of Haribo gummie bears after jaw surgery. After the wild lurch of moving, hours disappear in search for a left shoe or a spatula. Neither item surfaces — but, in the process the drink coasters, phone charger and cheese knife never found two days prior emerge from beneath the vintage Vodka poster you never knew you had.
And so the days go by, in search of brief moments of sanity or the plug for the waffle maker, which is in fact hiding in a dresser drawer full of stickers. The moments of sanity are still at large.
Nevertheless, I promised all ya’ll another installment of Sylva and Tyler’s autumn adventures — and so you shall have it. Just know I haven’t forgotten; in fact, I’ve been busy re-learning how to (wo)manhandle our new snowmobile and aiding my parents in the hunt for the elusive Vortex outside St. George, UT:
Oh and did I mention the 19-inch powder fest at Arapahoe Basin ski area (aka A Basin) that pretty much ate Monday? Of course, it’s not all rainbows and snowflakes. Sometimes, I do have to log hours at the ol’ Fondue restaurant at Keystone:
Anyhow, back to the meat and potatoes, now that we’re done with the tagliatelle al ragu (because, if you’ll remember, the first leg of our fall looked more like an Italian boot). We flew home from Italia October 17, crashed in a cheap hotel in Arvada, Colorado, swung through Dillon on the 18th and bopped right on up Salt Lake City.
From the Great Salt Lakes we transitioned to the great, stark shores of Eastern Oregon and my former hometown. Lakeview, Oregon: where, in or around my freshman year, the installment of a flashing yellow light at the one and only intersection downtown made the front page of the paper.
After winding our way down through Oregon and into Northern California, we finally arrived in the dank, green town of McKinnleyville, CA in Humboldt County. My best friend, Kelly and her husband Jacbo (aka Jacob), welcomed us to their makeshift apartment — relatively small and blessed with a consistent skunk problem (exacerbated by the skunky weed wafting in from both neighboring apartments).
After several days with Kelly and Jacob, we cruised north into Oregon and up to Bend. Situated on a river amongst the pines, Bend remains a fond constant in my childhood, with its laid back vibe, charming down town and guaranteed tasty food and local beer. This time, I found it a changed place — posh, yuppy and spotless, with a carefully manicured, spa-lined downtown and prices to match.
We stayed nearby in Redmond, which still maintained a bit of the haphazard, no frills old West feel. The next morning found us driving to Portland — specifically to an area called Mt. Tabor and my childhood friend Nini’s garden level apartment. A long weekend in the city stretched before us!
Thus began the night where a bottle of Hornitos and three little Ooga-Booga style Tiki shot glasses of herbal digestive liquor created two magically horrendous hangovers for Nico and Tyler. Yours truly felt just fine.
The next morning, we experienced the Breakfast Curse. having set forth mostly hung over and on the cusp of the dreaded breakfast-lunch conversion. In the supposedly haunted, eerily quiet and tidy hamlet of Port Gamble, Nico’s favorite breakfast joint only served breakfast on weekends (it was a Wednesday). On the way to anywhere else that served breakfast, I called everyone and their mom who informed me — with the happy clatter of breakfast eaters resounding the back ground — that breakfast halted promptly at 1130 (it was well after 11 and we were far from the source).
But where there’s a will, there’s a way: we stumbled eventually upon a little cafe with enough sausage gravy to drown Nico and Tyler’s hangovers.
Next up, a 20 minute ride on the Kingston Ferry to Edmonds, complete with a rare, clear view of the Cascades. In Edmonds, we’ll meet up with Aunt Spamela and Uncle Gregorious III, otherwise known as Pamela and Greg. We’ll spend a couple of days watching classic scary movies (a la the eerie 1963 “The Haunting”), eating delicious grub from their favorite food truck and pizza joint, drinking some dang good wine and searching for missing pieces of our Halloween costumes at Value Village…
Back in Georgetown, a rowdy night ensues with just-escaped-from-jail-M.Gustave H from “Grand Budapest Hotel” (Tyler) space babes Sylva and Nico, her Gorilla-suited friend Christian and friends Jewel and Ante (dressed as Elaine and Jerry from Seinfeld). We call it a night in the wee hours (Tyler a wee bit earlier, in a Campari-soaked Houdini move) and wake up far too soon to drive back home. In two days, we’ll be back in Colorado.
Five days after our brief hiatus in CO, we take to the friendly skies again. Where to you ask? Here’s a hint: