It's not raining.
Yet.
This morning Thor and I set off to Spencer's Butte for a hike. I'm pretty sure I wanted to die about 10 minutes into it due to a sudden loss of oxygen....caused by a not so sudden decrease in physical activity. I got a call from my insurance agent halfway up. After asking for time to catch my breath, I explained my current gypsy living arrangement, and he inquired as to whether or not my mother knows what I am doing. I assured him she does, and at last text message she was juggling toddlers and couldn't be bothered further with mundane stories about my poverty on the Pacific Coast. She either trusts me or just doesn't want to know.
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| The tricky death moss. |
There is beautiful pale green moss covering the trees all along the trail, and I ask Thor what it is called. Thor does not know, but what he does know is that it kills trees. And his answer kills my joy. Now it's hard to think of it as pretty when it is silently strangling the life out of the trees all the while appearing to be a simply gorgeous natural adornment. That is called sneaky deception and is much like boys who look nice and cover you in pretty things, and then turn out to be nothing but crappy green moss that is sucking the life out of you. I like to think this is a clever analogy rather than a bitter statement about love. Take it as you see fit.
There are signs on the trail that say we are on the "easy" route. When we begin, I'm kind of annoyed with this and am thinking we should have at least taken the medium route. Fast forward 500 feet of altitude and I'm gasping for breath and frantically scanning the trail markers for the kiddie trail. We are almost to the top and Thor asks if we should just stop because this is pretty far already. He is half joking and I am half dying but I insist we climb what seems to be just a little bit further to the summit. We get within twenty feet of it and this time it's me trying to convince Thor we have gone far enough. He replies that we have already come this far and we might as well go all the way to the top. He is right, but I'm still cursing under my breath, not because I don't want anyone to hear but because it's too much work and oxygen to actually speak aloud. Thankfully we are able to encourage each other enough to continue onward and upward.
We reach the top, and discover someone has placed a large cement triangle at the summit, as a sort of marker. I'm all for something to show I was here, but I'm highly curious as to how they managed to procure a giant piece of concrete at the summit of what Oregon smugly calls a "butte" and what I view as a decent sized mountain. Whatever Parks and Rec, eat your heart out. I am proud of being at the top, extremely winded from getting to the top, and suddenly terrified of standing up because I may fall off the butte/mountain/tallish vertical area.
Clearly I did stand up for a picture. I am pretending to be brave. Thor is not scared of course. Incredibly, neither one of us trips on the trail up or down which is an improvement from my previous hike at Wallace Falls.
We dine at Red Robin (Yum) (you know you just said it in your head). I've never been to Red Robin, but the seasoned fries are amazing. Thor has taken great liberty with the "neverending" fries and has asked for additional fries repeatedly, which I discover later is so that he can take them home and enjoy them all afternoon. I will label this behavior "resourceful". I do not indulge in the fries because Thor and I have already discussed my mandatory discretion given the loss of my button on my jeans earlier in the trip...
We also go to the Buffalo Exchange, an upscale Thrift Store (LOVE) which Thor accidentally told me was called the "Elephant" exchange and now I am convinced it is called the "Elephant's Trunk" because that's how my mind works. If my co workers are reading this, it's sort of like the situation with that watering hole in New Rockford that's called something like the Mill Pump and I think I call it the "Well Pond" or something. I should be better with names given mine is Arianne. I digress....
Thor and I discuss my upcoming journey and experimentation with Hostels. Thor, as noted previously, is grand at pointing out blunt and obvious things. He wonders aloud if Hostels are filled with hippies and I suppose they are which leads him to question how I plan to survive said Hostel given my devout dislike of hippies. I did not think of this. I suppose I will become cultured and more tolerant. No. I will outwardly become cultured and tolerant and still make inappropriate jokes in my head. I hope they are international hippies. That will make for a better story and more opportunity for actual culturing. Amy Smith if you are reading this, that entire paragraph is for you. Also, what did you do for Easter? I prayed for my poor sarcastic soul.
Thor made Swedish pancakes for supper. He admits he does not know what they really are, or why they are called Swedish pancakes when I inquire about this; however, he has made them. This is ironic and I suspect some hipster trickery. They have whipped cream so I am not asking any more questions.
As I dig in, Thor brings up one of his lovely blunt observations and we again revisit the pants button scenario. I scoop some of the whipped cream off. I'm sorry to all my friends who have been dieting for years. I ate french silk pie and drank milkshakes and laughed in your face. For this I am truly sorry. I had no idea of the perils of this lifestyle and now I can say I understand, empathize, and am challenged myself. Challenged daily because I saved my jeans button and carry it in my purse so I can remind myself why you don't have two helpings of chocolate pudding and then eat five Reese's peanut butter eggs for supper. I love myself and I hate myself.
On a brighter and drier note, the rain has only blessed us with a few sprinkles today, which is quite welcome since my motorcycle and pickup are showing signs of rust from the last few days and this sends me into a bit of a fit. I have made a mental note to buy steel wool and remedy the situation as best I can as soon as possible. This involves a mass exodus of Oregon, planned for tomorrow morning. Morning-ish. Maybe early afternoon....
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