Penn
03-15-2011, 15:21
News and updates: just returned home. We were in Seattle, consulting on a coffee shop lounge project, there is little reason to go otherwise; Seattle is much to do about nothing. An endless gray void filled self important cool. I’ve come to understand, if not appreciate grunge in a new light – the moral depravity of the socially challenged Nouveau Riche, juxtaposing the uncompromising personal integrity of the displaced native. Great wealth, alongside great angst; MS, Google, and the rest have really damaged this culture.
But, it did offer the opportunity to fulfill one of our dreams drives: a coastal excursion on America's great west coast touring road: HWY 101. Seattle to San Fran in a sled, a Cadillac STS, wow, what a car, and perfect for the 3 day drive.
Washington is absolutely beautiful, but Oregon, is arguably in the top 5 of scenic wonders. My God, the coastline is breathtaking; every turn presents a wonder and a prayer, shot tons of B & W 35mm. In the back of my mind there is a show developing - Collision with beauty. A slight reference to remain situationally aware while driving.
Spent part of a day and one night in Astoria, Oregon: one word- GO! It’s a time warp that’s slowly being discovered, lots of artist, mushroom pickers, scholars in residence, and really good restaurants filled with nice people. It’s also an excellent reason to exit Interstate 5 south out of Seattle, to cut across Rt 30 (another interesting drive) west to the coast.
Astoria sits at the entrance to the Columbia river, Salmon heaven to those devotees who know Salmon, and no I am not tired of Salmon yet, as there is nothing like fresh wild salmon with local lobster mushrooms grilled to order in front of you in some dive bar populated with foul smelling fisherman and the stale fragrance of processed yeast; though the Halibut and Dungeness Crab did test my loyalty to quality, in fact, several times I was forced to order both for failure to settle on the one.
My excuse for the glutinous behavior echo’s Nero’s, “I may not pass that way again”, which brings me to the Beer. I was not a beer drinker prior to this trip, possessing such a refine, if not pampered palette, often prevented me for investigating this ancient brew. Well, it was an awaking to say the least, the beer in Oregon was the best conversion anyone could ask for, like bread, I think it’s goodness is a water issue first, and skilled craftsmanship second.
And here is a funny thing, the people that hired me, every time we went out, twice each day, wanted me to choose the wines, I keep ordering the beer. In Seattle, there is an entire beer culture with coded acronyms used when ordering, x SF Med can explain it better than me, we meet for brews and burgers - a good time!!! And the coin slipped, I did not mean to slam it on the wooden bar. But, that’s another story…
The night prior, we ate dinner at the restaurant Wild Ginger, based on the recommendations here. When I announced that I was a beer novice they brought over a tasting of 10 of their micro brews on tap, explained everyone, and pointed out the essences I should taste as I drank each one. Could not have been better trained, to say I was a bit toasted by the time I was asked to leave would be an understatement. Luckily, I did not pick up a car until Thursday morning.
I also found again why I truly love my wife: We departed Seattle the wee hours the morning of the tsunami, way down the road when we were informed of the danger my wife turned to me and said: “Honey, you know I can’t swim, you’ll save me, right”?
I’m still her knight.
But, it did offer the opportunity to fulfill one of our dreams drives: a coastal excursion on America's great west coast touring road: HWY 101. Seattle to San Fran in a sled, a Cadillac STS, wow, what a car, and perfect for the 3 day drive.
Washington is absolutely beautiful, but Oregon, is arguably in the top 5 of scenic wonders. My God, the coastline is breathtaking; every turn presents a wonder and a prayer, shot tons of B & W 35mm. In the back of my mind there is a show developing - Collision with beauty. A slight reference to remain situationally aware while driving.
Spent part of a day and one night in Astoria, Oregon: one word- GO! It’s a time warp that’s slowly being discovered, lots of artist, mushroom pickers, scholars in residence, and really good restaurants filled with nice people. It’s also an excellent reason to exit Interstate 5 south out of Seattle, to cut across Rt 30 (another interesting drive) west to the coast.
Astoria sits at the entrance to the Columbia river, Salmon heaven to those devotees who know Salmon, and no I am not tired of Salmon yet, as there is nothing like fresh wild salmon with local lobster mushrooms grilled to order in front of you in some dive bar populated with foul smelling fisherman and the stale fragrance of processed yeast; though the Halibut and Dungeness Crab did test my loyalty to quality, in fact, several times I was forced to order both for failure to settle on the one.
My excuse for the glutinous behavior echo’s Nero’s, “I may not pass that way again”, which brings me to the Beer. I was not a beer drinker prior to this trip, possessing such a refine, if not pampered palette, often prevented me for investigating this ancient brew. Well, it was an awaking to say the least, the beer in Oregon was the best conversion anyone could ask for, like bread, I think it’s goodness is a water issue first, and skilled craftsmanship second.
And here is a funny thing, the people that hired me, every time we went out, twice each day, wanted me to choose the wines, I keep ordering the beer. In Seattle, there is an entire beer culture with coded acronyms used when ordering, x SF Med can explain it better than me, we meet for brews and burgers - a good time!!! And the coin slipped, I did not mean to slam it on the wooden bar. But, that’s another story…
The night prior, we ate dinner at the restaurant Wild Ginger, based on the recommendations here. When I announced that I was a beer novice they brought over a tasting of 10 of their micro brews on tap, explained everyone, and pointed out the essences I should taste as I drank each one. Could not have been better trained, to say I was a bit toasted by the time I was asked to leave would be an understatement. Luckily, I did not pick up a car until Thursday morning.
I also found again why I truly love my wife: We departed Seattle the wee hours the morning of the tsunami, way down the road when we were informed of the danger my wife turned to me and said: “Honey, you know I can’t swim, you’ll save me, right”?
I’m still her knight.