Seattle

We drove up to Seattle for our anniversary. The weather was nasty and the light was terrible for taking pictures but I took some anyway.

Sorry chef, undercooked is undercooked...

So last night we went to a new restaurant in Vancouver called Applewood. Jen ordered a lamb chop and I a pork loin chop. The chef was obviously trying to present like a fancy French restaurant but the food left much on the table, no pun intended. The portions were VERY small. My Polenta was good but tiny, more of a garnish than a side. The Risotto that Jen had was nasty, the flavors all clashed making a rotten taste. The bread that was served with dinner was good but you don't go to a restaurant for the complimentary appetizer. The worst part of all was the undercooked meat. Jen's lamb was so very raw, not rare but raw. My pork was undercooked as well. When the waitress came with our check she noticed we hadn't eaten our food and asked if it was OK. Jen mentioned the undercooked meat and the waitress took it to the chef. The chef stated that it was "rare" not raw and was fine...

Let me explain something, the goal with any meat is to ensure all bacteria is killed so you don't get sick. Generally you want your meat cooked until there are "CLEAR" juices not blood. As tender as possible with clear juices is always my goal. The bone-in versions of meat cuts are more likely to harbor bacteria, Jen's lamb was bone-in. There are multiple bacterias that can be present. The most likely to be found in lamb is Campylobacter. Campylobacter is the most common in the U.S. ahead of salmonella. Campylobacter will cause the typical cramping, nausea, diarrhea, etc. The scary thing about it is it's not like other food poisoning, it takes 2-5 days to become symptomatic. And infection can develop into Guillain-Barre Syndrome (GBS), which can leave people unable to move for months. Meat must reach 180 degrees to kill this bacteria.

Then there is salmonella, E. Coli which can cause kidney failure and bloody diarrhea, cryptosporidia, Staphylococcus aureus, Giardia lamblia, Shigella, and Clostridium botulinum.

Add to the list trichinosis parasites from the pork and suddenly eating out becomes Russian Roulette.

Here are the pics of our undercooked food....

Cannon Beach

Indian Beach

Cape Meares

The Sixes Excursion

New job, new home, new residence, new year. Since our harrowing drive here, we've been in constant over drive accomplishing way too much in too little time. From unpacking boxes, decorating for Christmas, to getting to know the local area, last minute Christmas shopping and shipping, and arranging furniture. It was finally our first official weekend with nothing really on the schedule to do and our first row of sunny days. With nothing but rain and clouds since we got here, I made the command decision to do something fun. Since we've gone north to Mt. St. Helen's, West to Astoria, and East to the Columbia River Gorge, I thought we should try south. My search yielded the Mt. Hood Scenic Byway. We packed our camera gear, strapped on hiking boots and set off. Halfway into our drive, we noticed the clouds were getting thicker, and that the sunny skies seemed to be north, where you could actually see Mt. St. Helen's. But I had a plan that we were gonna stick to. Even though I tend to be a 'technology' navigationally challenged person, I didn't have much trouble finding the byway. The signs every 100 yards or so helped too. The first part of our drive was quite boring. All downtown city streets. Then you would find a set of open fields, then back to downtown city streets. We finally found ourselves in the mountains...I mean hills. But there was nothing awe-inspiring the entire way. Then we connected back with the main highway, and went on our way to Mt. Hood, to just find heavy, wet snow and roads that hadn't really been plowed. Just cleared from all the traffic going to the ski resorts. As we passed a chain up area, there were several cars stopped, removing their chains. We stopped too, and turned around. The plan had back fired. Nothing amazing, no neat finds, no surprise Bald Eagles. At home, I spent the rest of the evening finally tearing into the final boxes and got the last room finished. Now that everything was sorted, and the checklist completed for today, I decided we'd go on another drive to celebrate. And this time the plan would NOT backfire.
I suggested Cannon Beach and Bryan suggested Cape Meares Lighthouse. We Googled both, and found each were the same distance away. I opted for Cape Meares. Again we packed the camera bags and strapped on hiking boots. The skies were blue in all directions (you could see Mt. Hood to the southeast, just to spite us). We got on the 5 and went south to pick up the 26 going west. After crossing the main bridge in Portland, there's a tunnel that goes directly underneath a bunch of homes and apartment buildings. As we were in the truck, Bryan couldn't resist. He rolled down both windows, down shifted into 3rd and took off. The rumbling exhaust became a thrashing tornado. I think we scared the small Honda Accord next to us, as he shot off like a rocket. After leaving the city, we entered a bunch of 'plains' with vineyards everywhere. If it hadn't been so green, I would think we were leaving Sacramento heading for San Francisco. We then hit the hills and started our slow, winding climb. There were plenty of fishermen off the side of the road. At the tippy top of 2000 feet, we had to cross a bridge that was in the middle of construction. It was a little creepy. You hoped nothing would go wrong as our 3+ ton truck crossed. Halfway down the other side we passed a semi, and we gave each other sideways glances. We pulled into Tillamook about an hour later. We had been through here on our 2004 west coast trip, and hadn't really enjoyed it. The pouring rain, and car sickness from winding seaside roads had made us crabby travelers. This time the sun was shining. We rolled down the windows to be blasted with the worst cow manure smell ever. It made me think of our old South Park video game. It was a James Bond type shooter style, and one of the 'gun' devices was a cow bazooka. It would shoot out a cow that would land on your opponent's head. Then your opponent would squirm as the methane 'killed' the character. The road to the lighthouse is in bad need of repair. I accidentally saw the sign for Cape Meares, and pointed Bryan straight, when the sign for the lighthouse pointed left. Oh well. After driving a road that needed to be repaved before we were born, we found us a beach with a sea monster. And I found an oyster shell. We then headed back for the turn, and saw a sign that said rough road ahead. After the short jaunt we had to the beach, we couldn't imagine what would be deemed rough road worthy. And it was nothing. Much like Peter crying wolf. The lighthouse was small and looked very similar to the lighthouse in Lowestoft, England (where my mom's family is from). Bryan got some great pictures of the ocean with the dazzling sun, and then learned a cool technique, only to not be able to try it out as the lighthouse was a popular destination. We're not much into pictures with random strangers, and we are not photo shoppers. One of the many history signs pointed out all of the lighthouses along the Oregon coast. The next one was called Tillamook Lighthouse, so we decided to drive north to see it and then would head back home. Along our way, we saw a small gas station with the label Tillamook Smokehouse Outlet. We stopped and found ourselves in beef jerky heaven. We bought a bag of reject skewered teriyaki jerky and a bag of sea salt and pepper jerky. Delicious! So good, I couldn't put the bag down and finally had to zip it up after grabbing one more piece and then stowed it behind my seat to stop. After we hit the town Garibaldi, Bryan realized we should have found the lighthouse by that point. We stopped at a beach parking lot to get better directions, and found the lighthouse was at Cannon Beach, which was only another 25 minutes north! We took the turn off for Cannon Beach (which is really for the town, not the beach), and drove through the center of town. It's a miniature Park City. There were tons of people on the beach looking at Haystack Rock, so we decided to go to Ecola Park. The first beach had great views of Cannon Beach. We took shots of the tiny town with fog rolling between the hilly peaks. We then drove a short distance further to Indian Beach, and finally found our lighthouse. It was built out on the ocean on a rock in the late 1800s. The workers sometimes would go weeks at a time before more supplies (building and food) could arrive. Ten days before it was completed, a British ship crashed in the area. No one survived. It was eventually shut down as it was too hard to keep maintained. It's now used as a cemetery for ash remains. I kept my head down while walking along the beach, looking for treasures and found a sand dollar! I yelped and picked it up to show Bryan. It was broken around the edges some, but looked pretty good. Then he noticed a perfect sand dollar a few steps away. After a little research, come to find out that sand dollars are a type of urchin. We got plenty more amazing pictures, and then stuck around to get the perfect ocean sunset. After the bombshell plan yesterday, today had been much more fruitful. The drive home was even eventful as we were in the dark on a mountain road we've never traveled before, that had not been cleared either. At one point, while zooming past a slow poke, we careened a right hand curve over an icy bridge. After that scare, we took it a little more slowly. Just until our hearts got below 200 bps. The rest was uneventful, unless you count the tunnel into Portland with sleepy homeowners above. Imagine being on a Harley with the exhaust blasting into your ears. If the tunnel had collapsed in the rear view, I would not have been surprised.

But I Did Stay at a Holiday Inn Express Last Night

Last week was spent packing our home of nine years, then loading it onto a truck to be driven 722 miles to Vancouver. Late Thursday night, we headed over to PetSmart to pick up a couple dog beds and encountered sticker shock. The bed size that fit our large dogs were $75 a piece! We then drove over to Wal-Mart to maybe find a cheaper alternative, but realized the beds at the pet store were the best option. We went back, and while debating which colors to pick, an employee walked by and mentioned the beds would be on sale the very next morning for 50% off. My eyes filled with tears as this was a small blessing. I've felt like we're bleeding cash at times, and this small gesture (and stretched emotions) almost got the better of me. Friday was spent packing all the items that the movers would not, which is every chemical and product that could potentially create a leak and ruin possessions. We boxed the last minute items too and loaded everything into our 30' trailer in a 5' space to allow room for our Honda, thus creating one tightly packed possible bomb. Saturday morning the dogs were then placed in the back of the truck with their kennels creating a makeshift dog run with the beds and bones for chewing. We finally headed out of Logan at 11 am. It was so foggy, we weren't able to get a backwards glance in. And honestly it was probably a good thing as we were still teary eyed from our final video of our home. The drive went well and we arrived in Boise at 4:30 pm. The hotel was pet friendly, and we opted to pay the extra fee to let the dogs sleep in the room with us. Sunday morning we awoke early. While walking the dogs, a guy stopped us and asked if he paid us some money could he use our cell phone. Jax started barking, so Bryan said we'd left the phone in our hotel room. The whole thing seemed weird any ways, but when Jax went off we knew something was not right. We got on the road by 9 am. About 17 miles outside of Ontario, Oregon the unthinkable happened. For those who have flown, when preparing to land there is a loud noise as the pilot opens the doors to allow the landing gear to extend. This is exactly the type of noise we heard come from the rear of our truck. The left rear suddenly dropped some, and Bryan gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles as we slowly pulled to the right hand side of I-84 to stop. Just before stopping, there was a loud explosion and our tire started to roll down the highway. In the ensuing panic and shock, I quickly unlatched my seat belt and jumped out of the truck and pelted after that tire. I did not want any traffic to hit it and cause more chaos, nor did I want the tire destroyed. Once I rolled the tire to Bryan (it's a 33" and extremely heavy), I noticed our wheel was laying in the middle section between the east and westbound freeway. Yes, I did look both ways, making clearly sure it was safe and then ran across to retrieve it. When Bryan looked up to see what we should do next, he saw me in the section for authorized vehicles only and started to panic. As there is not much traffic on the I-84 I was able to cross back pretty quickly, and then told to sit in the truck with my seat belt on. I had the task of sitting in the driver's seat warning Bryan every time a semi went by so he could brace for impact just in case. One car got my middle finger as he passed within inches of the truck, when he could have moved lanes as no one was around him for miles. Bryan was able to put our spare tire on, which was low on air. The process took about 30 minutes. We then drove 20 mph a mile down the road to the Stinker Station (I'm not making this up). As the accident had sheared three of the eight lug studs, we had to borrow a lug from each wheel to put the spare on. We stopped at the Stinker to see if they possibly had any lug nuts, but they didn't. Knowing that Ontario was only 15 miles away or so, we decided to push on. The town had a tire center and hotels. We figured it was our best chance. We drove at 35 mph with hazards flashing for 15 miles, then missed the exit and had to drive another mile to turn around and head back. We pulled into Les Schwab which was right off the freeway but as it was Sunday, they were not open. We tried calling, thinking they may have an after hours emergency number, but no such luck. Instead we listened to the ringing of their phone on the obnoxiously loud intercom. Knowing we were stuck, I told Bryan to drive over to the hotel, which looked really nice due to how new it must have been (it was built in 2008). While he stayed with the truck trying to decide if we should just drive really slow all the way to Vancouver, I went inside and spoke with the hotel manager. He did have a room available for only $77 (which was cheaper than the hotel I had reserved in Vancouver). He also had the home phone numbers for the Les Schwab manager and Big O Tire manager. Both did not answer, but he left messages and told me if we were able to get help that day, he wouldn't charge me for the room, even if we did use it for sitting and laying down. He even offered the use of the hotel's pool and spa, which made me wish I had packed my swimsuit with me. After driving to the hotel, Bryan found that the drum had been barely crushed out of round once the wheel had fallen off and impacted the concrete. We weren't limping anywhere. He called around to several parts stores, and found the closest drum was in Boise. After that was Aurora, Colorado. We unloaded the Honda and he headed back to Boise to get the necessary parts, while I stayed in Ontario to do laundry and be with the dogs. Unfortunately, Bryan's hour and a half drive was extended to 2 and a half due to road work. He was finally able to get the parts and drove all the way back. We had dinner at the Sizzler across from the hotel and then went to bed, beaten to our very core. In the morning we awoke to freezing rain, a new sensation for us. It was so cold, and extremely slick. We drove to the Les Schwab and were smacked with a rude dose of corporate lawyer crap. We told our story, and the Les Schwab employee told us he would not use the parts we had obtained and we would have to wait 2-3 days for the drum to show up. Bryan said "Thanks for NOT helping us, we'll give our business to the Big O, and where is that exactly?" I couldn't believe it, but the guy actually gave us directions and we walked out in a huff. When we arrived at the Big O I was afraid we'd get the same treatment. But Brandon and Mike were not Les Schwab. They listened to our story, how rude Schwab was and immediately went to work helping us figure out what we needed. Even though they did not have enough wheels nor tires in stock, they did have one steel white wheel that would work. They mounted the tire that I had chased down, then called around town and found a mechanic that could fix our drum. We were once again afraid we'd find additional damage to the rear end differential. Lonnie at Justus Auto located in Fruitland, Idaho fixed the drum in a couple hours. When we went to pick up the truck, Lonnie chatted with us about mechanicing and how he specialized in rear ends. We drove the truck back to the hotel to pick up our trailer and reload the Honda. We were finally fixed and ready to go. For the next nine hours we drove at 50-55 mph in fear of hearing that horrible loud skimming noise followed by an explosion. When we got past La Grande, and found ourselves on Cabbage Hill, we were awestruck. The beauty of the frost and grandiose view left us speechless. We pulled into Vancouver around 10 pm, safe and sound.

It wasn't until later that the reality of our situation really hit. Bryan was able to keep steady hands and not roll our truck, with the 30' trailer that had our Honda. All three would have been totaled, meaning we wouldn't have a vehicle to call our own. Nivia dislikes the loud exhaust of our truck, so sits over the left wheel well, getting as far away from the noise as possible. When the wheel failed, it split in half around the wheel, like cutting out a donut. The tire could have easily been sliced and cut into the rear quarter. If you've ever watched a NASCAR race and seen a rear tire blow, it quickly shreds the quarter panels to bits. Somehow the tire stayed in tact, which kept Nivia safe on her perch. I wouldn't have been able to bear the thought of burying a dog. Bryan and I were both wearing our seat belts, something I've always been good about, but Bryan has a bad habit due to all the in n' out when working as a mechanic. We were also so close to a town with decent amenities, and good people. The hotel manager, John, Mike and Brandon at Big O, and Lonnie. We had the good fortune of having a mechanic fix our rear end that specialized specifically in that. Last was the final drive over Cabbage Hill down into Pendleton. If the wheel had waited until then to fail, it wouldn't have been a quick coast on a long stretch of lonesome highway. The tight hairpin turns, steep cliffs and miles of 15' snow mountain sides would have meant instant death. A guardian angel had been with us on that drive. He made sure our truck stayed straight, that our baby girl was safe, our possessions didn't explode into the cold freezing rain, and our lungs were still filling with precious air. Every prayer I've said on this trip has ended with thank you for this opportunity. The opportunity to live in Vancouver, to be with my family safe, to stay in a hotel instead of a hospital, to have my life.

And that maybe, just maybe, (although we didn't make it Mulligan free) the stay at a Holiday Inn Express that night made all the difference in the world.