Ariane and I went to Portland this weekend to have a girls weekend with Carle. It really allowed me to hit the reset button, and forget about the "stuck in the 1950's" family lives of my co-workers.
We got there on Thursday night, and after a Bloody Mary on the plane and some shared tunes coming out of a single set of iPod earbuds, we were good to go. We saw the band Stars; awesome. Amy is a kick-ass guitarist and singer, which really satisfied my feminist craving. After just snacking on the plane, a few beers did us in, and we were done for after the show. We decided to get a good night's sleep for our day at Mt. Hood Friday. It was a gloriously sunny, brisk day at the mtn, which made for beautiful scenery and icy conditions. It was probably the hardest riding I've done since my skill-level has improved to the point of being able to stay standing for longer than 10 seconds. Ariane, the 2nd timer, did amazingly well for the steep terrain and icy conditions, although her bruises on every joint in her body would indicate otherwise. We braked for beers in the early afternoon, and that threw me off for the rest of my riding, although it lowered my sensibility gauge enough to try the terrain park. Nothing fun to report here, a few falls and no air. We were exhausted by the evening and had yet another low-key night.
Then Saturday came along...
How relaxing does this sound? A scenic drive along the Columbia River and a stop in south Washington for some hot springs mineral bath relaxation? We thought so too. Turns out, the mineral springs are on private property, and you have to Harry Potter your way through barbed wire, broken trail, chainsaws, bones sticking out of the ground, and watch dogs in order to get to the springs. Needless to say, we didn't make it. So we decided to go to the resort hot springs and pay (sacrelige!) for a mineral bath. The eeriness didn't stop then... We ended up at the Hotel St. Martin; a Bates motel-like resort that's apparently haunted, where a bath attendant drew our baths in rusted bear claw tubs and then wrapped us in hot towels to "steep". To top the night off, we went to a nude photo exhibit in which our good friend Carle starred. We got her good and liquored up for the occasion, which was a good thing. Until she got beligerent at the end of the night. Which is excusable. So, a few tears and many hugs later, we're all asleep and by 6:45am on Sunday, Ariane and I were on our way back to reality... *sigh*
