Day 3 - Pale Pastures to Emerald Mountains

                I awoke to a slam: the type of sound you feel move your gut. I looked over to Corey’s bed and found him as startled as I was. The clock showed well past four AM. Corey asked if I had any idea what the noise was. I was clueless and groggily told him so. We were both temporarily worried, but were too tired to really care. I hope no one was hurt due to our apathy. Normally, adrenaline keeps me up for hours, but I was far too tired to stay up and investigate. Besides, there were numerous people in the rooms around us and I was sure that one of them would call the front desk and complain. Anyway, the room wasn’t on fire and there wasn’t a mushroom cloud outside the window, so there really wasn’t anything that was going to keep me awake any longer. Another night of interrupted rest was par for the course at that point.

The morning was much more pleasant. The wind present on the previous day had mellowed. I wanted to make a dash for the continental breakfast, but Corey had no interest in stale half-muffins and bad coffee. I am not one to say no to a free breakfast, so I protested. Corey offered to buy me breakfast if we could get on the road. I obliged Corey’s request; and as it turns out, he was spot on. I do not think the Travelodge-Elko spread would have been as satisfying that morning as a good cup of coffee was. We were on the road again.

Corey was, and surely still is, a great friend to travel with. I did not count the hours, but I imagine we split the driving about equally. Normally, I would drive the whole way as I feel it passes the time faster, but we were both exhausted; so it was prudent and necessary for us to drive in shifts while the passenger took intermittent naps.

Largest piece of driftwood ever found - Redwood

The drive from Elko, up until just outside of Bend, was mundane and boring. We were surrounded by rolling plains and small rounded mountains. Normally I would find the terrain quite pleasing, but after days of the same, I was tired of the scenery. I thought it quite interesting how quickly my brain adapted to its surroundings. I immediately understood the cliché sentiment that the grass is always greener on the other side. When it comes to the Cascade Range in Oregon, the grass actually IS greener on the other side. The East side of the Cascades is arid and dry; the West: a temperate rainforest. Henry later explained that moisture coming off of the Pacific Ocean moves inland, but is held up by the prominence of the Cascades; creating a situation where it may be raining and cool on the West side, while it is a hundred degrees on the East side. I am a huge fan of strange weather and Oregon definitely fell into that category.

After roughly eight hours, we reached the southern limits of Bend. Bend is widely considered the outdoor sports Mecca of America (Vancouver holds a similar status in Canada.) Bend is within minutes of great snow on Mount Bachelor, famous rock-climbing in Smith Rock State Park, rivers perfect for Kayaking and fly-fishing, and critically acclaimed single-track Mountain Biking. For the avid outdoorsman, there is arguably no better place to live in the entire world. I would estimate the number of roof racks on vehicles at near ninety-percent. Corey and I felt at home immediately. Within the first five minutes of entering city limits, we both agreed that we would move to Bend in a heartbeat given the opportunity.

Planker Sandwiches

We looked for a place to eat on Yelp and found a highly rated (and cheap) establishment on Main Street named Planker sandwiches. Planker was the best sandwich joint I have ever found. For ten dollars each, we both got a sandwich and an accompanying Pabst Blue Ribbon. Corey had a Cuban sandwich playfully named the pork belly. I was in the mood for a slightly lighter meal and ordered the Tuna salad sandwich. Our sandwiches arrived at the table and at first glance, it appeared that I had made the better choice. The tuna was served on a scratch-baked Brioche roll that was wonderfully sweet and pleasant. Corey’s pork belly looked flattened like a grilled cheese and was a foot long. It resembled a building material more than a sandwich, but I saw where the name Planker Sandwiches came from. Corey took one bite and a look appeared on his face like he had just met the love of his life. He offered me a bite and after I tasted it, I am sure that I had the same reaction. The combination of mustard, cheese, and caramelized pork was far more than I expected from any sandwich that resembled a 1x4 piece of lumber. It was perfect. We had only a few minutes to eat if we were to make the last tour at the Deschutes Brewery.

                When we stepped back out onto Main, a light rain fell that more resembled mist than the Texas thunderstorms I was used to. After I had shoveled down what felt like a half pound of sandwich, the rain was pleasant on my meat-fevered forehead. We fell back into the car and drove five minutes over to the brewery.

Corey and I arrived at the Deschutes Brewery with fifteen minutes to spare before the last tour departed. It was just enough time to have our four complimentary samples and chat with one of the tasting room employees. There are few things I enjoy talking about more than beer; especially with people who consider themselves hopheads like me.

A call to start the tour rang out and we were handed badges. An energetic and knowledgeable woman escorted us outside. She pointed out the new tanks that were being installed on the roof at that time. We walked into the old brew house and she told us how the beer was made. I had toured breweries before, so I found the generalities of beer making somewhat boring. Deschutes had a twist in store for us though. We entered the employee break room and were shown the “employee bathroom,” which was actually a small closet filled with taps of the various beers brewed just feet away. Each employee has a designated mug and is welcome to enjoy a cold one after their shift. Our guide also pointed out the snack station, which is manned by a gourmet chef that sells fresh, locally sourced meals to the employees at lunch time. Deschutes’ tour had a wonderful addition that I had not seen before. We were given samples of the dark and light malted barley used for the various beers. Also, there was a jar of dried hops passed around. Each of us took a flower and rubbed it between our hands until it disintegrated. Corey and I both sniffed our palms for hours afterwards. I thought I was in heaven with the smell of the fresh hop oil left on my hands, but then, our guide opened up the pearly gates for hop-lovers: the hop storage room. I stuck my head in and was immersed in the most wonderful smell. I asked our guide how much it would cost me to put a cot in the corner of the hop fridge. She told me that if they decided to rent out the room, there was already a waiting list. The rest of the tour took us through the brew house and over the bottling line. Deschutes runs the type of operation that should be the envy of most any brewer. I highly suggest that anyone who finds themselves in Bend go and see it firsthand. Corey purchased a sampler case after the tour and I grabbed three bottles of my favorite Imperial IPA (Hop Henge Experimental IPA was the name for those who are curious,) and we were off once again towards Henry and Kristin’s home in Amity, Oregon.

Brewhouse

Fermenting tanks

The area north of Bend is covered in tall firs, conifers, and other various trees that don’t grow naturally in Texas. Corey demanded we stop at the next tiny espresso stand we saw on the side of the road. I thought his request somewhat ridiculous, but at the time, I had not experienced how awesome roadside coffee stands in the Pacific Northwest really were. Our cute barista made fun of the way I said Nevada (Neh-vah-dah, which I still think is correct) and quickly dispensed two espresso shots for each of us. I will say, once again, Corey was right (don’t get too used to that admission Corey, you won’t hear it often.) Espresso stands dot the North the way food trucks dot the more trendy parts of the South. You won’t go more than two blocks in any Oregon city without seeing an espresso stand. After I tasted what they had to offer, I saw why.

The Deschutes National Forest surrounded us when we left the town of Sisters. If nothing else, we had successfully made it to the emerald forests of central Oregon. Unfortunately, clouds surrounded all but the base of Mount Bachelor, Three Fingered Jack, and Mount Jefferson (something that I would deal with through the rest of my time in the Pacific Northwest.) Despite the unavailable mountains, the forest around us was new terrain and was as interesting as any I had yet laid eyes on. After a few miles of descending elevation, we drove through a burnt portion of the forest. Most people think that forest fires are preventable tragedies. In actuality, fires are a very important part of the forest eco-system. The branchless trees around the road were filled in by smaller growth and told me that the area had likely been part of a controlled burn.

Deschutes National Forest - Burnt Portion

A river ran to the left of the road. It was a swifter body of water than any we had yet encountered. The proximity of mountains and their melting snow to the river probably was a major factor in the river’s current. We passed a dam and Detroit Lake opened up on our left. It was a medium sized lake surrounded on all sides by steep banks covered in firs. It was the most stunning lake I had ever seen. Corey remarked that we must return to the lake at a later time to do some exploring. I agreed and we drove on.

We were only hours from Amity. The thought of spending consecutive days in the same state thrilled me. I pushed the pedal down and climbed the last pass that stood between us and the end of the first leg of the trip. Life was good.