Author - Grant
From - Redwood Forest, Northern California
To - Eugene, Oregon
Via - Grant’s Pass, Oregon (fine city, fine name)
Miles Driven - 180
Photos - http://www.flickr.com/photos/32017704@N03/sets/72157618305632849/
Ignoring secret trips back to New York for doctor’s appointments and an unscheduled trip back to the UK, we’ve been in California in California for a whopping 50 days which is almost a quarter of the total time we’ve been away. Clearly that is partially explained by its size but it is also a reflection of the diversity of this incredible state which has us heavily leaning this way as a place to settle and raise little Goodison (it’s a name I’m beta testing in the hope that repetition will lead to acceptance).
Still, today’s route took us north and into Oregon, a state that everyone we have met has spoken incredibly highly of...if it wasn’t for the weather. The good news for us is that we are catching it in the middle of a heat-wave and what locals would define as a drought (i.e. 5 consecutive scheduled days without rain). In a bit of bad planning our our behalf, our chosen overnight stop was in Eugene which has a huge athletic history (it has produced an inordinate number of national athletes and is the home of Nike) and was in the middle of a track meet. As such, the only remaining dog friendly room in town was a top of the line suite complete with jacuzzi...a sodding waste of money when you consider that I am already married and that she is already ‘with child’.
Arriving on a Saturday did, however, mean that we caught the weekly market which is the life and sole of this town. This wasn’t your run of the mill brik-a-brak market though as Eugene isn’t your run of the mill sleepy town. From what I could gather the most common profession is beatnik, the town hair-do is dreadlocks and the uniform is anything tie-dye. As such, the market sells an abnormal amount of dream-catchers and veggie dhal. The entertainment, however, is priceless with Janice Joplin impersonators and bongo-drum circles providing the soundtrack to the numerous jugglers and impromptu foot-sack games.
Despite costing the same as a night at the Waldorf Astoria, our hotel is perfectly located - opposite a park and right next door to the best pub in town. One of our very few regular readers, Mikanos, recommended the McMenamins chain - if not for the food then definitely for the beer and I’ll now treat his every word as biblical as he was spot on. This particular night they had six beers on draught and they offered a sampler that contained a few ounces of each...but where’s the fun in that? As such, over the next couple of hours I did the man’s version of the sampler tray by having a pint of each. In summary, the IPA was magnificent, the wheat beer was beautiful, the lager was crisp but tasty, the fruit beer was raspberry-tastic and the two stouts were exceptional but could also be used to pave roads. The food was the very definition of hit and miss as the chicken wings were perfect (crispy, juicy, spicy) but the sandwiches were a bit drab. But really, who cares when the beers are so good? My dining
partner who can’t drink, that’s who. Instead she had to be content with sitting in the setting sun, drinking pints of milk and watching the cheeky raccoons steal garlic bread. Apparently these franchises are plastered all over Oregon and Washington. Looks like the next two weeks aren’t going to be too tough...
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