weekend recharge, hallelujah

By some miracle I made it to White Salmon on Friday in under four hours, with cat.

I was not looking forward to the “with cat” part. Getting out the door was indeed hellish, but not because of the little monster. I had set her carrier on the bay window, and then left the room to do the last tidy for the weekend’s Airbnb guest, thinking I’d wrassle her into the damn thing right before leaving. And when I returned, ready to go, she was inside it, peeking out at me reproachfully.

It was as if she knew we were returning to her birthplace. Again, like Joseph fucking Campbell here, people.

We had a quick dinner, and then scooted out the door again. Eli bought us tickets for Paula Poundstone the moment they were available, bless his heart. (The show sold out so quickly they added a second, at 9:30. Hallelujah for an organized kid who was on it. I’d never have been able to stay up that late.)

As we entered the city Eli rolled down the window and said, “Ah. It smells like Portland.”

“You mean it smells like marijuana?”

“Yes.”

“Like…. skunk?”

I was showing off my new slang word. E was confused, but eventually he laughed. Nervously.

Finding parking at the Aladdin was something else. And then the venue itself was unlike any place I’d been to — TWO bars inside. Several women wearing pussy hats. God, I love Portland.

Paula was terrific, of course.

On Saturday we did the consumerism, Costco to buy various items including the ChromeBook I’m typing on. This is the first computer-thing I’ve purchased that hasn’t cost about a thousand dollars — my MacPlus cost that in 1989, and so did each of the three I’ve owned since, too.

Then to IKEA for lunch and to enjoy looking at the merchandise we don’t need.

While we were in IKEA, I fielded a slew of texts from Becca and the Airbnb guest, who, evidently, was rattled, it seems, by the fact that there wasn’t a coffee maker in the house. And it was so cold. I suppose it was a bit culture-shock-y for a woman from Texas, my house.

At any rate, it was a good day. And I think I will love this ChromeBook. The only downside is that I’m not used to looking down at a screen. Damn progressive lenses.

When your kid attaches bear spray to your pack before a little "walk."

Which was also the problem on the hike down to Spirit Falls yesterday. The trail is straight down, so you have to look at your feet the entire way.

The trailhead is only about a four minute drive, straight up the mountain, from Eli’s house. We were just going to start when E looked at me a long moment and said, “Why don’t you let me carry that pack?”

“Would that make you feel better?”

“Yes. When I brought dad on this hike, he kept saying, ‘You can’t bring your mother here.’ It’s steep.”

I’m not fond of heights.

Can you see the path? No.

In fact, it was so steep, from the parking area it looks like a straight drop — you can’t even see the path. We had to scoot down that bit on our bums. And after the first scoot, Eli stopped to throw stones at a rocky section. Because of rattlesnakes.

Rattlesnakes.

About halfway to the falls, a gentleman with a Japanese accent came screaming down the hill with hiking poles and those claw things on his shoes. He’d found some lobster mushrooms the previous day, taken a picture with his phone, posted them on Facebook. Then did some research to discover what they were — and here he was, back again to get ‘em. I wonder if that’s even legal. At any rate, he was fast, and scooted right back up the hill.

The photo doesn't do justice to the color of the water. 

And of course you have to imagine the roaring.

Again, good day.

This morning Eli left for work in the dark, in a steady, hard rain. The kitten, Miss Hotspur, is finally adjusting to being in a strange place, evidently having forgotten her time here half her life ago, after her trek up the mountain the middle of the night. She has been doing kitten things this morning, instead of hiding and constant prowling.

I have eleventy things to do before I head home tomorrow, but all the projects I was having trouble finishing at home are coming together. I can hear eagles outside, and the occasional Stellar’s jay. It occurred to me that I should get away more often. And then it occurred to me that I always think that. Maybe next year I will.