sea salt

On my second day of driving around, I decided that Oregon is likely our loveliest state, and it has some of the best food and wine in the country. But I couldn't live here. Go figure.

I woke up this morning after probably one of my longest sleeps in two weeks. You don't sleep a lot when you're moving. I watched a little tv (it seems every time I take a road trip, Britney Spears has a scandal and then that's the only news that's on). I headed out of Lincoln City, stopping to see the Abraham Lincoln memorial (Lincoln in 1850, reading a book on the back of a horse) and to take lots of beach pictures.

Then I kept going south on 101, stopping pretty much every time there was a pull-off to take beach pictures. It was so cold, though. The wind was whipping up lots of big waves. So picturesque. Although it seems every time that I am on the Oregon coast, it's the fall or early winter. So I haven't really seen it when the sky was blue and things were warm enough to hang out on the beach. I don't know which one I would like better.

This morning I was thinking that if I didn't have a job by April or May, that maybe I'd move to a beach town and work the summer. Serving up fruity cocktails or manning a mini golf station or something. Then I was imagining myself continuing on through the off-season, writing a book and mingling with locals and being Hemingway-esque (if I were male I'd grow a beard). I was imagining myself jogging on the beach in the winter and then a seagull crapped on my car and the romance was gone just a bit.

Anyways, on down 101. Looking at water. I saw a fountain that was a whale spouting water and lots of tacky shops. As a beach person, I am torn because I love pristine beaches, but I also love looking at tacky pirate souvenirs. Today, I think both sides won.

In Newport, I was walking along the bay and saw about 60,000 sea lions. I decided I didn't like sea lions because they are just unsightly blobs with flippers and they make really unpleasant barking sounds. If I were a land lion, I would be offended that the sea lion was my aquatic counterpart.

I stopped in Florence for lunch, at a seafood place that promised that my lunch had been swimming just hours earlier. Creepy. But apparently, after they catch the fish, they either serve it that day or ship it to San Francisco. So if I was eating it, it was from that day. I had a crab sandwich. It was really good...nice big chunks of meat, with a lemon aioli sauce, seasoned fries, etc. I gave the restaurant high marks but NO ONE around me did. Behind me were these two old ladies who sent their coffee back because they didn't like it. I forget all the reasons they gave but they were loudly offended and finally the poor lady had to go, I don't drink coffee, this is what we have, I'm sorry.

But the real drama was this woman in front of me. She was slightly older, with a guy who was either her son or her younger boyfriend. I missed the part where she didn't like her food, but apparently she sent some food back, but ate part of it, and when it showed up on the bill, she threw a hissy fit. She wanted to speak to the manager, who wasn't there, so then she wanted the manager's home phone number, and then there was some dispute over just how much of the food she had eaten. Then both she and the young guy would do this thing where they wouldn't speak to the waitresses when the waitresses were trying to ask questions, and then they'd start yelling about something unrelated. Eventually the woman left the restaurant and left the guy eating there. The restaurant took the food off the bill, but the guy didn't leave a tip. So then the waitresses came over to me to talk about it and I assured them that the food was very good and they told me I was a very good patron. I don't think I'm getting across how dramatic all this was, but it was intense.

It's kind of amazing what people think to ask for. When I worked at Old Navy, it sort of amazed me what people would ask, what they would think I was capable of. If I were that woman, and didn't like the crab cakes, I would have just eaten them or dealt with it or whatever. I mean, it was just lunch, and dinner's only a few hours away. But it's a double-edge sword. Sometimes, if you ask about weird random things, you get help in ways you didn't expect. But sometimes, you just look like a jerk.

But I continued on my way. I was trying to find the Coos Bay boardwalk and happened upon a place called Cranberry Sweets & More (www.cranberrysweets.com). Well, I love cranberries, and I love sweets, so it was a no-brainer stop. They had samples of EVERYTHING out, so I walked around and tried a ton of things. In the corner, they had a tape playing of when Rachael Ray came into the store for the $40 a day show. She was all like, I found this place on the internet. So then I felt superior cause I found it on my own, and so I spent some time thinking about what would happen if a camera crew followed me around while I did a travel show. Narrating the show in my head and whatnot. But it ultimately wouldn't work because I get lost while I'm driving a lot, and my face breaks out when I'm traveling. Anyways, I just finished up some Cran-Raspberry Pates de Fruits in Dark Chocolate from the shop, and they were just wonderful.

So at Bandon, I started heading east to go to Crater Lake. It's not really on the way to anywhere I'm going, but I wanted to go. The drive over was just beautiful. I hate that the actual drive has produced some of the most beautiful vistas, because they were at places where it was hard to pull over for a picture. But just imagine a two-lane road, with farms, trees, and mountains everywhere, with everything changing colors. The leaves were reds, oranges, yellows, all against the evergreens. The sky was silver.

For being one of Oregon's major attractions, and for being available on a commemorative license plate, the road to Crater Lake is not well-marked. Although now, from the safety of my hotel room, I think Google maps sent me a really weird way. The road was slightly eerie, mainly for the way in which I looked up and realized how deep in the mountains I was. That sort of came out of nowhere. It was also a little eerie because I had no cell phone signal, I was the only car on the road, and then it started getting dark. The phrase "psycho killer" flitted across my mind but I didn't let it stay there. I saw lots of deer. It was only 8 pm but pitch black. So I stopped at the first town I had seen in two hours, which is a little one-horse town called Prospect, and I'm in a lovely little motel that's close to Crater Lake. Now I have been watching Larry King Live and blogging. Jenna Bush was on. Remember when she was a screw-up? On Larry King she seemed very well-spoken and poised (hello, media training). I always had my money on the other Bush twin, but I guess Jenna's making a comeback.