Cruising on Friday: Pendleton

 There was much to learn and a lot to like about our excursion to Pendleton. And a few things that were just "eh" as well.

On arrival, the first thing we did was get ourselves acquainted with the local underground scene. Back in the day, this area was home to a diverse array of folk. Along with the admiration for how the town thrived and dealt with challenges in creative ways, we learned it's dark history also involved human trafficking. 

Chinese laborers lured with money, one-way transportation and promises for a better life, found themselves living underground, working outrageously long days for little money and no chance to find their way home to families waiting eagerly. Living underground and working themselves to the bone meant most people lived incredibly short lives too.

We visited the underground dwellings; Complete with ventilation grates to the street above, tiny rooms, crowded situations. No square foot was left unused. 

During prohibition, this is also where elicit drinking and hilarious hiding places were to be found. The local butcher had real estate down here too. His family's side business? Hiding drunk people and their alcohol during a raid and charging them for the privilege of getting out in the morning or reselling them their own liquor the next day! (Diabolical genius!)

The laundry man/tailor had a "work from home" lifestyle too.

Imagine this: You had to bathe before visiting one of the "ladies of Pendleton" upstairs and the cost of the bath was rather dependent on the order in which you got to use the bath water. The germaphobe in me was 100% grossed out at the thought of these hard labor workers swimming in each others filth. People soup! The end.

Since the dawn of time, people have been skipping the real news in favor of the funnies!

Lunch was had a the town's famous Hamley Steak House - connected to Hamley's overpriced department store. Don't be fooled, as we were. Steak was not an option and after a so-so sandwich we continued to peruse the local stores before heading out to the cultural center with a native American guide who was fabulous.

This area was once millions of acres of hunting and fishing grounds for the tribes (Walla Walla, Umatilla, Cayuse) that occupied the land. In a treaty struck with the white settlers, the native American people found themselves settling for a fraction of the land they used to have rights to and then, as time went by, they realized non-Indians owned more of the 172,000 acre reservation than Indians did.

Thirty-two years ago the Confederated Tribes of the Umatilla Reservation forged a plan to buy back land over the following 50 years and since then they have managed to buy for fee, or in trust, 77,000+ acres.

You might think that all this history causes nothing but resentment and an inability to cohabitate or collaborate... until you start learning about the Pendleton Round-up. This festival/celebration/rodeo is one of the big three around the States/Canada. The town goes all out and there has ALWAYS, but always, been a strong native American presence at the Round-up. It is here that they host a grand tribal village of 300+ teepees. Visiting with friends and relatives is crucial, but there are also things like taking part in the Happy Canyon Pageant, American Indian beauty contests, the Pow Wow dance competition and an array of Native American venders set up to sell arts, crafts, food and jewelry too.

Then it was back to the American Song for an evening of cruising while drinking and dining and ... scroll down.... 

Scallops!  Please Sir, may I have some more?

The highlight for me was Matt and Hannah doing show tunes. Matt's great, don't get me wrong, but Hannah?  OMG! She has the voice of an angel and when she hit every note from Evita and Phantom's "Music of the Night" I was mesmerized. We all were.

Cruising on Thursday: The Dalles

 Anyone care to wager what makes the sun so beautifully and scarily red, first thing in the morning? Indeed. Today the air is hazy... wildfire smoke. We've had a good run.

We spent the morning at the Columbia Gorge Discovery Center and the National Neon Sign Museum. Super interesting and definitely exceeded expectations. This area has a lot of history. A history of hard working people who forged a life for themselves in tough conditions, using the natural resources provided by this land.

The neon sign museum came about when one guy started collecting them in his youth and spent a life time learning the art of making them too. 

He and his wife own the place and are restoring the historic building it resides in, to its former and very original looking, glory.

Did you know there are only two real colors and the others are all a blend, or colored glass to contain them? Argon glows blue when electrified. Neon glows bright red. 

This is the owner's son, David. I believe his parents make him earn his keep it the summers between his years at college.  Kidding! (A tiny bit)

David was an excellent guide. Knowledgeable, well spoken, entertaining and considerate. The guided tour was just the right length and very interesting. 

And what the heck does Ronald McDonald have to do with any of this, you ask? No idea! But he seemed to want to take a selfie with us, so we complied. 

After lunch, we were off to the Maryhill Winery... Oh boy! Oh boy!

We loved the tour and learned a bit about wine making tour. The view from the winery over the river was spectacular too. But I think it's fair to say, we came to taste! 

Donnie lead the way.

We tasted all of these in order. What you see in the picture is Dallice's really unprofessional wine-taster opinion. (I never claimed to have skills, I claimed to have enthusiasm. Different, but both are equally important.) All we can really determine here is that I have to start buying more Reserve Wines. Those smaller batches the winery's save and label/price as a bit more special.

The rosé was great. Beautiful flavor and easy to sip. Too easy. I'd like to remember it as the taste of a summer afternoon - fresh fruit and bird song.

Pinot Gris (the same as Pinot Grigio... the Italian version). Really did taste like nectarine, IMHO. Also easy to drink too much of on a hot day!

Lot 12 Reserve was a "mistake". Someone added 50% Merlot to the Barberra and whoops... a star was born. It might have been my favorite. Crazy good flavor and yep, the cocoa spoke to me as you would imagine.

Skip ahead... the other ones in the middle were not awful but not delightfully memorable either. 

The last one: Zinfandel Reserve.  Mmmm... yummy.  Could I taste spiced rum or cloves? No. Thankfully. But I think detected the hint of blackberry jam that is in the description. 

Given all that I taste and don't taste, I might subscribe to our sommelier's theory that one builds a smell/taste library and from that, draws upon the data and memories they have to attribute names to what they taste. 

My library I conclude, is full of fruit and chocolate memories. Some spices. But little in the way of oak, toast, cedar and tobacco.  I can live with that. After all, when does when develop a taste for cedar? My only recollection involves fancy closets or mulching the garden!

Sunset back on the American Song. Another treat! We passed through a lock as cocktail hour was in progress. Who doesn't love food, drink and an interesting view, all at the same time?

Looking forward... 

And then the view from the back of the boat as the lock closed after we entered.

I might have been the only person on the boat to run to the front again... or to run, in general, if you don't count our exceptional waiter, Vu.

You've heard the expression: "Take a picture. It will last longer" right?  The locks were a highlight of the trip and I'd like to remember them forever, honestly. I took pictures and a video!

No photos of dinner tonight. Give me a break... I had a wine tasting, a cocktail hour and wine at dinner. It's a miracle I hadn't fallen overboard, let alone had the where-with-all to take the pics I did.

Cruising on Tuesday: Mount St Helens

Oh baby... we were not prepared all that well for the weather that greeted us today. Overcast and a smatter of rain? No problem. Colder, more persistent rain at the higher elevation we drove to near Mount St Helens?  Eh... not so much.

"Docked at Kalama" implies more than it was, I think. For instance, there was no dock. Like... NO DOCK at all. The American Song just kind of motored into the sandy shoreline and there we were! Captain kept the engine running (steep drop off apparently) so we stayed firmly at dry land, then the nose of the boat opened like a whale mouth and they slid a ramp out for us. What?!  I know right!? 

But it gets better... they also drag out rolls of delightful skid-proof blue carpet so that we get up the little incline easier and with less sandy shoes.  Amen!

We took a little walk along the beach. People were fishing, picnicking, having a day out with the family. One has to assume that this weather is maybe as good as it gets sometimes, here.

At the top of the blue carpet walkway, we found our American Cruise Lines buses and friendly drivers. And 90 minutes of scenic Oregon forest and mountain land later, we arrived at the first of two stops up here today.

Coldwater Lake Recreation Area: How pretty! 

Our second stop... the one where it was raining, windy, cold and the view of Mount St. Helens was 100% obscured? Yeah, no pics were taken as you can imagine.

How about this one I stole from the internet?  :-)  Clearly not taken on my trip, it's what you might have seen if you were in the air nearby on March 18, 1980. I was 6 years old and in New Zealand. I remember seeing news coverage on our black and white television! Wasn't the eruption preceded by the biggest landslide in history?

The day we visited, the Visitor Center, featuring other useful info I'd normally be compelled to educate you with, was closed due to lack of staff. Another unfortunate pandemic side effect. 

The gift shop was open, but had restrictions on the number of visitors who were allowed in at one time. Seriously amusing to watch a bus load of people who packed for 80+ degrees, waiting in line to shelter and shop at the gift store. How many people left wearing Mount St. Helens sweatshirts, you ask? Lots! I think the gift store is sold out now, so please bring your own warm jacket if you are headed up there. LOL.

Back to the boat we went.... Not this boat, silly. This was just a giant tanker that I marveled at, working its way upstream. The river was gradually getting narrower but remained deep enough in the middle.

I believe I chose the duck for dinner tonight. It was bedded down on a mound of sweet potato risotto, in any case. Prior to that, Donnie and I went with gin at the cocktail hour. The pours were generous and the mixers were missing. We toddled off to dinner (with obligatory wine) and at that point, I could still use my camera.  Mmmm... Carrot cake. It's a good life. 

Ok, so here is where it gets a bit more blurry. Post dinner, arms linked, we staggered back to our cabin. Over served? I'm going with "definitely" - but we made it ok, thanks for asking.

We entered the room to find this fancy cheesecake on a slate platter, piped with Happy Birthday and sporting two forks. The giggles ensued. Neither of us having had a birthday in recent history and neither of us able to stomach the thought of eating more of anything, we fell down laughing.

Somewhere, someone was missing their birthday cake.  :-(

Fitbit tells me I slept like a champ that night!