Steve and Bon and Sarah's Most Excellent Adventure, Part II

8/23/10, Sunday

8:53 am: Sarah & I slept well, Steve not so much… Leisurely morning, shower then continental breakfast provided by the hotel… now we need an Oregon map. Steve PROMISES to stop at the first gas station to get me one…

9:00 am: Cannon Beach here we come!

9:38 am: Okay, we’ve passed like a hundred gas stations and we still haven’t stopped – Ha-rumph! I had to pee so we stopped at a Chevron station… back on the highway and that’s when we remembered the map… Gawd, we’re too stupid to be adults… Stopped again like 2 minutes later for both Oregon and Washington maps… okay, NOW I can relax… ate Cracker Jack while listening to Emerson Lake and Palmer which prompted me to call my brother Michael… the listening to ELP prompted me to call Mike, the eating Cracker Jack just pissed me off as they give you like 3 peanuts and the prizes suck! My brother & I had an in-depth discussion about the demoralization of Cracker Jack. We stopped at a rest stop and twelve ounces of Cracker Jack crumbs fell off my boobs, my face, my hair, and shorts… I opened the bottom of my shirt and more pieces fell out… thank God! I thought perhaps those irregularly fashioned lumps were my cancer coming back in the form of popcorn shaped tumors…

Back on the road listening to Epica… it’s a band Steve likes, me not so much… it’s too bad I don’t still drink, we could make a drinking game where you gotta do a shot every time the guy in the bad growls… despite the continental breakfast and Cracker Jack, I’m getting hungry… DRINK! Only 24 miles to Salem… DRINK! It’s hecka cloudy here, I commented. Steve says no, it’s (DRINK) always cloudy… Jumping out this car window to escape this (DRINK) “music” doesn’t sound like too bad of an option (DRINK) about now… The next song requires either a bigger shot glass or an IV liquor drip… F**K you, Galante was Steve’s comment when I read him (giggling) this portion of my journal… DRINK!

Weird, I paid only $2.00 for the CA map, even though it’s marked $4.95… I just played a bunch of games of Solitaire on my iPod to help tune out the growling…

1:37 pm: on 26 headed toward the Coast… Time for Red Vines! Reading all the signs along the road: Fresh Fruit Next Right, Cherries, Homemade Jams, Blueberries, Elk Jelly… Elk Jelly? “I think that’s Elk Jerky” comments my husband… Oh, yeah, I was wondering how they’d even make Elk Jelly… Too many Red Vines. Yuk! Dying for a smokey treat… you can’t smoke in Magda, per the rental agreement… there’s stickers over the whole care warning a $250.00 cleaning fee may be levied if they find evidence of cigarette smoke… wonder what the cleaning fee is for an overindulgence of Cracker Jack? Sorta have to pee… we’ll be stopping at Camp 18 for a late lunch… I need a green salad chaser for all that red licorice.

Camp 18 is this old logging camp that they’ve turned into a very cool restaurant… yummy green salad… my innards are thanking me for the authentic fuel… the year we got married, Steve hid a quarter in the men’s room and every time we come here he checks… yep! 10 years later and it’s still there… I went to their gift shop, which BTW is darling, and bought Steve a t-shirt and 2 caramels… is there a difference between “carmel” and “caramel”? This is a question that has plagued me for some time now (in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not that deep of a thinker) … the woman who works there complimented me on my earrings, some silly little white beaded numbers… seems she makes jewelry to supplement her income, as she raised 10 kids (yikes!) and didn’t build up a huge Social Security fund nor is there a big 401K program for being a mom… her name is Susan, originally from Southern Cali and has lived in Oregon for 30 years and loves it… I gave her one of the earrings so she could have a “live specimen” to work from instead of the picture I originally suggested she take with her phone… I told her my wish was that she becomes to jewelry what Debbie Fields is to cookies… I also (secretly) wish that I will be telling some traveler that I was from California but have lived in Oregon for 30 years… but wait a minute, even if we move next year, I’d be freaking 80 years old. Shit! I don’t want to be an octogenarian hawking souvenirs… Next stop: Cannon Beach!