Let me count the ways

The blog’s been silent partly because Jackie and I can’t seem to find the right words to express each of our love for Vancouver.

It’s not precisely what I expected, but it was just as great. What stuck out to me the most is that Vancouverites really seem to love living there as much as I loved visiting.

On Wednesday night we weary travelers took a short break in the late afternoon to recharge. (It was, after all, Jackie’s birthday and our one night out in Vancouver—we had to be ready.) I went down to Jericho Beach, just a couple blocks from our hostel (about 20 min south of downtown by bus) for a brief siesta, and found myself walking past about 20 games of beach volleyball, a half dozen family picnics, two lovebirds in their 60’s playing dueling mandolins, and a host of other people playing games, enjoying an after-work beer or exercising—all before I could find a place to put down my blanket and open up my book. Out in the bay people swam and paddled, embracing the chilly Pacific water.

The sun was setting slowly but the fun was at full tilt—no one wasting a minute of the beautiful September day. There was a general air of calm but at the same time a happy franticness to get the most out of the evening.

Here’s a photo I took of the scene; it doesn’t quite capture it but you do see the beach volleyball and the dozens of sailboats that were out in the harbor. Now that is a lifestyle I could get used to.

Salmon four ways

I can’t believe we’ve gone this long without talking about the food. The food! Oh glorious West Coast food.

It’s generally agreed that almost all Atlantic salmon are farmed, whereas Pacific salmon are caught naturally. I couldn’t wait to try it, practically straight from the source, and in less than 24 hours I managed to eat salmon four ways without even trying too hard.

1. Baked salmon with spicy Thai sauce. Pretty typical.

2. Smoked salmon with poached eggs and marble rye bread. Much better than packaged lox; it was meaty and definitely tasted fresh.

3. Salmon sushi rolls. The fish was a brilliant pink color—not what you’d find in typical sushi. The man rolling the sushi said the fish was from his backyard. Not too far from the truth, I’m sure.

4. Salmon jerky. The most unexpected and totally delicious—I tried the regular and also the spicy, with red pepper flakes…but the leftovers are making my luggage smell a little funny.

Time constraints kept me from going to an actual salmon hatchery but that’s on my list for my next visit to Vancouver.

We also had Prince Edward Island mussels that were the stuff dreams are made of. The thick, smoky bacon in the garlic butter sauce didn’t hurt.

Oh, Canada!

Late Tuesday we arrived in Vancouver. Jackie and I headed straight for the Museum of Anthropology at the University of British Columbia, which is open late (and for a discount) only on Tuesdays. It’s filled with thousands of baskets and carvings and clothing and canoes from native peoples all over the world, with a focus on the Northwest and Canada. Check out this woven motorcycle! It had no plaque but the site itself was too amazing not to share. My main question: Why?!?

The Haida, an indigenous nation straddling the Canadian and American parts of the Northwest, featured prominently. Located mostly in the islands and adept at sea, the Haida were fierce warriors in defense of their land and to search for new wealth. Most interestingly, they’re generally credited with introducing totem poles, replicas of which dominated the museum.

I had actually met a man making a Haiwa totem pole while we were waiting for the ferry in Olympic. He was commissioned to do so by a pet cemetery, so he had to incorporate dogs into the design even though dogs are not part of the natives’ history. Only partially finished at that point, he showed me how the carving would weave the animals associated with Haida evolutionary theory with the animals kept as pets in modern society.

The ferry rides to get to Vancouver were one of my favorite parts of the trip so far. Alas, there were no glaciers and whales as I had hoped for, but there were eye-catching 360 degree views of the islands between Olympic and Victoria, and then between Victoria and Vancouver, with the occasional giant snowy mountain in the distance (Mt. Baker).

Landing in Victoria we felt like we’d gone ashore in London—from the architecture to the names of the streets and towns, the whole aesthetic was very Picadilly, Trafalgar and Westminster Abbey. It’s no wonder, since Victoria was one of the first cities settled by the British in the area, in 1841. Many of the original buidings are still standing, like the grandiose and well-appointed legislative building that’s located right across from the ferry landing.

Twilight Town

Do parents really allow their Labor Day vacations to be dictated by their teenage girl's book and film obsessions? I would've begged my parents for a weekend traipsing about Prince Edward Island à la Anne of Green Gables if I thought that would've worked.

Forks, WA is certainly capitalizing on the Twilight phenomenon. Wikipedia says Forks has seen a 600% increase in visitors since the books' publication – as though there were a reason to visit this timber village of 3,500 before Jacob took his shirt off here.

There are Twilight tours, several Twilight stores, a Stephanie Meyer celebration weekend, and movie props (Bella's truck!) set up at locations around the town. Restaurants serve "Edbread" and "Swansoup” with your pasta and hang quilt banners featuring graphic-T-esque cut-outs of Twilight scenes. Local motels have "Twilight rooms" where presumably you can satisfy your adolescent desire to, um, become undead.

For the record, it was just a coincidence that our Olympic National Park trip took us through Forks (thrice) but I think Rachel and I especially (Amanda has never read/watched the story) were pleasantly amused by the state of this otherwise nondescript, quaint town in the Pacific Northwest. We might have even taken some embarrassing pictures with life-sized cut-outs of the actors. Allegedly.

I'm on the edge of glory

Apologies to our throngs of fans for abandoning you for a few days. We've been in Olympic National Park exploring rainforests, beaches, and the depth of our collective patience for camping. Oh, and spending the night in one of my Happy Places.

Everything I said about Yosemite (beauty, splendor, etc.) can be re-stated for this place. I'll let the photos do the talking:

Happy Place camping: It's been six years since I've been here...hope that much time won't pass again! I didn't capture it in photo but at night there was a perfect half moon that was sort of hazy but still a brilliant yellow. The clouds whisped out from it in the shape of a lotus flower (really!) revealing thousands upon thousands of stars.

The forests are best enjoyed during the day (not in pitch black when alone...whoops).

Keep Portland...Shi Shi

After a harrowing journey across America via Minneapolis, I joined my octogenarian friends in Portland who were hobbling around the city, avoiding staircases that their Half-Dome-destroyed thigh and calf muscles could not handle. We ate from the famous(ly overpriced) street carts and visited quaint old warehouses converted to breweries, Rogue and Bridgeport.

Flights of beer never disappoint but we did fail to cross the Willamette to show Rachel a key component of Portlandia. Amanda and I had seen the hip music scene on the other side of the river last time we were here but we didn't make the jump last night. So as delightful as the sports bar and cover band bar we ended up at, we never found the bird shop or the feminist bookstore - or their real-life inspirations. People's clothes were decidedly matching and monochromatic, their jeans far too breathable. We blew it a little. But we also learned that Portland has a hidden, mainstream cache of citizens and bars.

Instead of moshing at an indie punk show, we wandered the streets complying with requests of older couples to blast country songs on our cell phones. So that's something.

A taste of wine (if not wine country)

The next major stop on our road trip is Portland, OR. We're there now, having picked up Jackie (blog post forthcoming). But first, Amanda and I had to find a place to stay last Friday night, since the journey from Yosemite to Portland is a cool 15 hours or so.

Anticipating that we'd want something relaxing to wind down from the Half Dome hike, we contacted a winery in Mt. Shasta, CA. They told us that on the day we roll through town, they'd actually be doing tastings at a wine festival in Medford, OR, just over the border. Perfect! we thought: We can take in the best of Oregon wine country in a scenic, relaxing setting, before getting up and finishing the drive to Portland.

Um, yeah.

What we had pictured would be a long wooden banquet table in the middle of a scenic valley with a view of mountains in the distance, maybe a fire pit and a nice string quartet, turned out to be a parking lot in suburban Medford with a giant event tent and a female rock band playing the best of Melissa Ethridge and the Dixie Chicks (the lead singer even had a full on mullet with about three inches in vertical height).

The crowd was...interesting...and in between bites of chicken wings and beef jerky (because those pair perfectly with a nice pinot, of course) we had to explain over and over how two women from D.C. and Chicago ended up at this Harry & David parking lot in Medford.

All together the wine was pretty good and it was a genuinely good break from the road, but not exactly the taste of Oregon wine country that we'd been seeking. On to Portland!

The Harry & David parking lot, of course: