The Miracle at Cannon Beach

We spent a couple days in Cannon Beach, Oregon. This was the best night of camping yet! Ok, it was actually the first night of camping and only one of two experiences so ... I'm still going to say it was my favorite. Adam's putting up the tent. Can you see he's giddy? We got this tent 2 years ago for a wedding present and it's finally making its debut.


This campsite is gorgeous, right? Plus, it has running water, flushable toilets, showers, garbage cans. I am a proponent of mixing primitive life with modern developments.

Did I mention this campsite has running water? Yeah, and it's running all over everything! Adam attempts a fire for a good 2 hours and it's hopeless: the wood is wet. Just look at those hot dogs anticipating a searing coal.
We stuck the hot dogs in the car and drove to McDonald's. Like I said, primitive life + man made goodness {The Big Mac} = the best scenerio.
The camping was kind of sandwiched in the two following days: biking on Cannon Beach and hiking above Cannon Beach. Shown here is Adam and the guy who introduced us to FUN CYCLES!

What a fabulous invention. You basically pedal with your feet and turn them with your hips. Women are truly the best at this, but I must say, Adam held his own. Coming up is Haystack Rock. Name that movie!
Haystack Rock was made famous by The Goonies. They look out across the ocean (from Astoria, Oregon) and shout things about treasure and that cyclops man, what's his name? And in the distance you see majestic Haystack Rock looking all stacked up like a haystack. Brilliant. Anyway, too much yelling in that movie for me to really remember much of what was said. Great movie, nonetheless.

Adam, after turning a deaf ear to FUN CYCLES man's advice, ventures into the water.He said he didn't get the same sticker on his bike as I did on mine. Later on you will find that Adam heard NOTHING of what FUN CYCLES man advised....
We finish a great cycle up and down the beach, in total about 7 miles. We are tired, worn out and ready to pound some pancakes at the local Pig 'N' Pancake. Not so fast ... One very important piece of advice the FUN CYCLES man gave was very clear, given more than once: don't put anything important in your front pockets because it will fall out. I heard the man. I assumed Adam heard the man. And I thought Adam put everything of value in the backpack. Nope. Turns out the keys to the rental are somewhere along the 3.5 miles that is Cannon Beach.

We go back to look, we notify all the little shops and other people on bikes. And we go to the Police Department, conveniently located a couple blocks from the beach. To wait. And hope. And pray.

We fill out stuff at the dept., we call the rental car place, they say there is no hope for replacing the key faub, we are relying on the kindness (and eyes) of strangers at this point along with the kindess of the really kind police people. We wait. We laugh at the funny police people. We get a glimpse into what really goes on at the police department (a lot of paperwork and speaking in codes and saying things like, "Don't tase me, bro!"). We call a locksmith, after which we will just WALK to the Pig 'N' Pancake cuz I am STARVING by now.And RIGHT after the locksmith arrives, the kindness of strangers comes through and our keys are delivered to us right then and there by another policeman who was out and about (stopping the real crime of Cannon Beach: car theft) and you can just reach out and touch my relief.

That stressful couple of hours ended in a plate of blueberry buckwheat pancakes, and I was grateful.

Here we are together the next day, on speaking terms at last!

We did a five mile hike above Cannon Beach. This lighthouse in the distance captivated me.

Tim Russert 1950 - 2008

We loved this guy and miss him already!!

Sea Sick

Adam and I went deep sea fishing in the Pacific off Newport, Oregon. It was chilly, drizzly, dismal.When we stepped on deck the predictable, "Do you get sea sick?" question was passed around. No way! I told Captain Skippy. I'd been whale watching off San Francisco, snorkeling off a boat in Maui. Been boating on Lake Powell in the worst conditions. I don't get sea sick. Adam doesn't either. And with that, we set out for sea. The rods are all lined up, ready to be taken to. Here's my rod. That's basically the extent of my view for the next five hours.

I thought deep sea fishing would involve me watching deep sea fishermen catch deep sea fish, but we all actually got our own rod. Would I catch anything? Oh yes, Captain Skippy and his deckhands said. Everyone catches something. Every time the bell rings, we drop our lines, reel up about five times and wait for the big one. When you have a fish on you yell ... well ... "Fish on!" The first time I yelled Fish on! it was actually Line stuck! Throughout the course of the day, my line would break off three more times. Was I catching anything? Oh no.

Here's Adam. A natural. He catches one red snapper. Then two bass! At the same time!!

Here's me. Confused. Cold. Reeling up 20 times to avoid getting the "Don't get your line stuck again, little missy" lecture from Deckhand Bob.

A HA! FISH ON! I thought this beautiful, big orange thing was the first salmon the boat had seen all day. I pull it out with pride and Deckhand Daisy said, as she unhooked the fish and dropped it, "This is endangered. It goes right back where it came from." But it never woke up. Just drifted away on its back like that. I felt really bad. I wondered if it tasted good. I would never know.


Soon my stomach began to feel like this:

Soon so did Adam's. We were getting sea sick. The fish smell was taking over, as well as the gently rocking boat. I sought refuge in the cabin. Meanwhile the Captain was fishing on my line. Just as I stepped out on deck to toss my cookies, Captain yells, Hey! Come catch your fish!

I reeled in two bass. Here's our loot:
We had them flayed, vacuum packed, and then ... given to the lady at the front desk. It was way too expensive to ship them home. And are bass and red snapper even good to eat? We'll never know.

We stopped at Mo's for clam chowder. Just 10 minutes earlier I was certain I'd never taste something from the sea again.

Cold ... then Warm

Don't let these smiles fool you. This is me just moments before I am about to become the coldest little cucumber ever.

The coldness started the night before when we got to our campsite, a campsite situated in a little place called the middle of nowhere. We get there late and I go searching for an outhouse. Nothing but creepy, boarded up old cabins. EERIE! Adam builds a great fire, it provides some relief. There is no bathroom, no running water, no showers and nowhere to wash my face. Good thing I saved a Wal-Mart receipt for wiping. I wash my face in the freezing cold, dirty river. Adam has never seen me so mad (just wait till the next day). We retire to our little tent, where I have nothing but me and my mummy bag to depend on for warmth. Why hasn't someone invented a sleeping bag built for two? My body does not heat itself, people! I don't sleep most of the night because my feet are cold.

This is the following morning. Pleasant enough. The miracle of this day is that it's NOT drizzly and raining. It is sunny and warm. I {mistakenly} think there is hope for me on the Klickitat River.

The rafts end up getting transported by Little Mike's truck after the van carrying 15 of us breaks down. We caravan down to the river. We stop in the middle of the road because in the middle of nowhere there is no traffic. We are crammed to the ceiling in our little Toyota Prius (we named her P-Biscuit) with the 3 travel guides Kyle, Josh and Keelia. We are waiting for the car of 5 girls who are on their last drop of gas.
We have a lovely view of Mt. Adams.



The rest of the day goes down in history as my coldest day yet. The river has class III rapids all the way down. Not just a few here and there - but never-ending walls of white water. Adam falls out of the raft twice but he's a champ and swims back over to us, paddle in hand. We stop for lunch, my lips are blue, my speech slurred and I feel like I have Parkinson's because I am shivering so bad I can barely get my sandwich from the plate to my mouth. With the few brain cells that are still around, because, after all, I am deteriorating fast, I try to plan my walk home. I despair. It's not an option. I am surrounded by steep cliffs and raging waters. Just then my river guide saves my life and hands me his WATERPROOF jacket. He says he can tell I am in the early stages of hypothermia. Where was he stashing this thing four hours ago? The jacket restores me, and while I still know I will have to amputate my feet if I ever make it to dry ground again, I am able to forge ahead. Adam tells the river guide that the jacket has saved our marriage.

We retire here for the night. Somewhere between BZ Corners and Trout Lake, Washington. There is a hot tub, sparkling apple cidar and dainty doily cookies. I am never going rafting again.

Actually, This Might Be Tastier

The previous post may have led you to believe that I woke up every morning in a tent, with narly hair and pillow face, ready to eat my Morning Dog to start the day. The truth is we only camped two days and the rest we slept warm and safe indoors and ate at great restaurants, ordering lavish desserts every single time. Since one of my favorite parts of traveling is eating out and ordering anything I want, I wanted to show you a bit of what we ate.

We rolled into Portland around noon and were ready to eat. We asked the nearest Asian to recommend the best sushi place in town. We were lead to this dive that featured a sushi train. Toot toot! I was ready to hop on. Mmm. It was dirt cheap and decent fare. But the best part was our first taste of the typical Portland resident (the place was packed with them): piercings, blue hair, shorts with stockings, maybe some suspenders -- any combination to make you look completely mismatched and psychotic. I love the place already!! {See sushi train in action below.}

Below features our last meal in Portland. By this time we have actually found THE best sushi in town and we're ready to spend more money, having consulted the trusty guidebook and ready to reward ourselves for being frugal the whole trip. Edamame and some rolls, we have the trusty California roll and spicy tuna roll (our two mainstays), then we have the Portland roll, the Sunshine roll and the Dragon roll.

Jake's Seafood, the best known for seafood in Portland, didn't let us down. This unique dish was really rich and I couldn't finish it. Dungeness crab tortellini with gargonzola cheese sauce. I kept the leftovers in the car for another day, hoping I could enjoy some gourmet delight while camping ... but cheese sauce out in the sun all day didn't sound appetizing by the time I got to it. A Dog sounded good, though. Always does when I'm around a camp fire...

Mo's clam chowder saved me in many ways. More about that later.

Adam and I nearly moved to Trout Lake, WA, when we discovered this cute little cafe on the side of a gas station one Saturday morning. Just before breakfast we had enjoyed a jog through the area, passing the Trout Lake school, and got to ask the locals gathered at the cafe (I'm sure it was the local hang out although it couldn't have been bigger than 20'x20'), including some of the kids about their 2007 state champion track team (the sign was still up). Turns out the school houses 130 kids, K-12. And there is no track. Why do you need a track when you've got miles and miles of empty roads? We LOVED the place. And I LOVED this simple breakfast of raspberry shake and sausage, egg and cheese biscuit.

And here's a sampling of just some of the amazing desserts we had. In my opinion, the whole point I eat dinner is so I can have dessert. After the trip, I thought I'd never wish for dessert again, I had eaten MORE than my share. But just today I made a huge carrot cake with cream cheese pecan frosting. I guess I have not found the cure for my dessert tooth.

Below is the Triple Chocolate Suicide. There was a scary, spiky, crusty type thing for decor on top and Adam tried to stab me in the throat with it. He thought the dessert was called Triple Chocolate Homicide. He just wanted to have it all to himself. I can't blame him. You pour that little pitcher of fudge sauce on top. And then you jump out the window and drown yourself in the Columbia River, which the restaurant overlooks. How handy!

We toured the Tillamook cheese factory in Tillamook, OR, yes we SHORE did! And did you know that Tillamook does not just make cheese? They also make ice cream. People come from far and wide for it because I believe it is the only place they sell it. Adam almost changed our trip plans twice just to re-visit the stinky cow town of Tillamook to have his double scoop of cookies and cream ice cream in a waffle cone. I had a scoop of German chocolate cake and a scoop of something else really chocolatey. Oh, and the cheese curds were great, too.

This is my little dessert trio from Jake's. Berry cobbler, chocolate pots de creme, and creme brulee. Adam finished his banana cream pie before me and watched me intently as I devoured my three ramekin's full. He said he had never seen such uninterrupted determination and concentration in me before. It's true, I scraped them clean.

This is a chocolate mousse I will not soon forget. It followed an amazing lunch of French dip sandwiches at the Multnomah Falls lodge. I never expect much from restaurants housed in lodges, but this meal just knocked me out. The mousse was fluffy chocolate wonder up top, something more mild in the middle - maybe white chocolate cream pudding - and then a near-solid dark chocolate triangle had us (we shared it) spoon fighting at the end.

This was my last dessert in Oregon. The Chocolate Bag. Belgian chocolate sides and bottom, filled with Bavarian cream and whipped cream, plus all those little berries. It looks much prettier standing up but we got it to go so we could enjoy our desserts (Adam got another banana cream pie) it in the park. I saved it in the fridge and had some the next morning at 5 am before we left for the airport. That is how much I love dessert.

And finally ... some of these guys actually were supposed to end up on our plate at home but we didn't want to pay for shipping to get them there ($100+). More of that story to come.

Chew on This

{Me about to enjoy my Morning Dog}

I wanted to sit down the second I got home from Oregon to blog about every single detail - our trip was THAT good - but real life has proceeded to cave in all around us and eradicate any free time we once had. Adam's staying late to work this week, I'm starting a new art class tonight (Book Arts - I have no idea what that even means, I just joined with a friend to get a discount), we have church callings calling our names, laundry a mile high (all of which smells like camp fire and fish guts), I have a freelance writing project which I totally forgot about and have to start ASAP, and our secretary at work up and vanished, so surprise! Guess who gets to fill in?

Anyway, it's kind of comforting to get back to a life where you feel needed ... or at least a life where you feel busy and thus feel important. But I hope these next few blog posts will help us all forget about jobs and traffic jams and routine, taking us to another time ... a time called last week ... a time when we were living in a beautiful world called: vacation.

Above is our first series of pictures. I have to run so this is all you get for now. But it really sums up the whole experience for me. Cold, bed head, no makeup, a bit cranky. But SURE enjoying my my Morning Dog. Let's just say this trip made me appreciate the simple, WARMER things in life.

Roughin' It

We are headed to Oregon tomorrow morning for an 8 day trip. I just discovered I have been packing for a trip to Southern California and don't have the "old tennis shoes" and "long underwear" that the river rafting preparation list metions as "necessary items for survival on this rugged, insurmountable, class XXX river."

I do, however have 7 t-shirts, 3 pairs of flip flops, 4 pairs of shorts, aviator sunglasses and a Thouroughly Modern Millie-inspired sun hat. I'm kind of freaking out at this point. Because what's worse than getting to your destination, ready to look fit for the trip, only to find that you planned all wrong and - even worse - will be cold every.single.day? Because the weather forecast says it is to be 'showers' every.single.day...

We're camping and hiking and river rafting and mountain biking and I have maybe one item of clothing that fits in the 'outdoorsy' genre. I purged all of that to save myself from ever going that route with my wardrobe again. And now I will shiver - all in the name of fashion! I'm afraid I have forgotten how to rough it and may be miserable, having traded in the simple outdoor pleasures for shopping trips.

When I'm not shivering I'll be reading in my sleeping bag, I guess. It's my first time using it - the sleeping bag - which I got as a wedding present from Adam's choice of registry: REI. This will be a week of firsts with our camping gear that we got two years ago. We thought we were campers then. I guess we'll see...

Call me Degas

Tonight's the last night of my drawing class. I have loved it THIS much.

Dear Moms: You Rock!

A Great BIG Happy Mother's Day to our mothers. Since we can't be where you are, we've decided to write a little something up for you on this here blog.

Korinne Tribute

{Martha's mom, Korinne}

{Martha's mom attending to all the left over children of the earth, as usual, and teaching them how to make homemade ice cream}

My mom is the Ultimate Mom. It didn't really occur to me that she was, though, until I was a teenager at Girl's Camp and - at the height of my being totally annoyed at her each and every day - one of the other leaders said to me, "Your mom is one of those women who just does everything well, isn't she..." I thought, "Are you crazy? She is the reason for all of my misery!!!" But then I thought about it more - it was something I'd never even half considered before because I was too busy being an impatient, ungrateful, snot-nosed teenager to notice: my mom can do and does do it all. But she's not one of THOSE moms. She's not the mom that ASPIRES to do it all and LIVES for doing it all. She is just multi-talented and she puts it to good use.

A few samplings of the talent: She was born to be a domestic diva, beginning with a degree in clothing and textiles. Who majors in clothing and textiles? My mom, that's who! (And sorry, not you, because that degree is long obsolete.) She sewed everything she could get her hands on, sometimes even our yapping mouths. She also sewed prom dresses and wedding dresses, including mine. The domesticity does not stop there. She enjoyed cooking and baking - they were just an extension of her being. This helped her care for all the neighborhood stragglers, the kids whose parents were at work, my friends who lived and died by her leftovers for lunch, and of course, her own kids (us) who could have been mistaken for neighborhood stragglers at any time (think: my brother falling asleep on the sidewalk right by his Big Wheel, my sister and I parading the block wearing fake mink furs and plastic high heels - we were unruly!).

My mom also used her talents to embarrass me whenever possible. She will play any musical instrument that comes across her path, and one time when I was studying with a boy I really, really liked in my room (she never had a no-boys-in-your-room rule, too! YES!!!), she came right in and proceeded to practice her BASSOON. In my room. While studying math. With a certain cute boy. I was mortified and tried to get her out while still looking cool. It didn't happen and the boy was not really amused. Which was a telltale sign that he was actually lame, and shortly thereafter I weeded him out of my life. Thanks, Mom!

Mom, this song's for you: Mamma Mia just because Abba is what binds us.

Best food from Mom: Anything baked. She had at least three baked goods in the house at any one time. Which explains why I am addicted to such things.

Mom's best words of wisdom: Her classic answer to the whine, "But Moooooooooommmm, I'm booooooooorrred" was "Only boring people get bored." Mom, how did you know that phrase would burn itself into my brain only to antagonize me nearly every day of my life? I guess that's what mothers are for. Happy Mother's Day, Mama K!!

Diane Tribute

{Adam's mom, Diane, near Coor's Stadium in Denver [with other family members in the background]; looks like she's getting an earful from Adam}

{Adam's mom plus us, his brother and dad}

Every mom loves Mother's Day right? Who wouldn't love a day made specifically for them? Well, my Mom has a love/hate relationship with Mother's Day. Love because she gets grilled salmon for dinner and hugs and kisses from all the kids. Hate because the stories told in sacrament meeting on Mother's Day are usually dramatic epics of complete self-sacrifice and limitless love. Contrast this with the lighthearted and funny stories about Dads told from the pulpit on Father's Day. So my Mother's Day present this year is a story about my Mom that will make you laugh... instead of cry.

There are so many stories about Mom that would be perfect. Like the time Mom took a basketball to the face during FHE, or when she was the only person on the rafting trip in Jackson Hole to fall out of the boat, or just the other day when she asked how many quarters are in an NBA game.

But the one I chose to share beats them all. Once when I was about 11 years-old, I was walking home from school with the "bad-boy" kid who lived up the street. He was telling me about all the PG-13 movies his parents let him watch, and all the kids at school he was planning to beat up. Then he showed me how to flip off passing cars... one of his favorite passtimes I guess. He demonstrated on two or three cars and then said "OK, now you flip off the next car to come around that corner."

When mom and her big purple Dodge Caravan came around the corner, there I was, middle finger extended, in all its exposed glory. The next few minutes were all a blur, really. Next thing I knew I was in the passenger seat, being made to understand that you do not flip people off. I think I tried the ignorance defense, and truthful though it was, it didn't seem to make much difference!

My Mom is wise, and she's taught me many lessons over the years, such as "No one has all the shoes", "You're integrity's worth more than $5", "Chocolate Chip cookies are best on Sundays", "You only buy a Steinway once so you might as well get the best" and of course "Never flip off your mother". Love you Mom!

Eco Geek

I have taken the plunge into eco-friendliness and bought some of these VERY cute Envirosax. This partly fulfills one of my New Year's resolutions and, like I said, this is all about baby steps. Becoming enviro-sensitive was never really on the docket for those of us raised Republican, so it takes some adjustments to realize: Hey! Mormons, of all people (no matter the political affiliation) should really be spearheading this Save the Earth campaign. We believe in God and his creation, so what are we waiting for? Listen to me getting all granola on you. That's what Envirosax have done to me (by the way, get them at Outdoor Balance - they're a bit cheaper). Or don't get them at Outdoor Balance. Whatever. Just try to live with yourself and your mountain of plastic bags that strangle wildlife and suffocate children and act as really great trash can liners (dang it, now what am I going to do?). Just go ahead and take shortcuts and ditch plastic and go for paper because, you justify, it 'breaks down better in nature'. Yeah, well, we'll see if there's any nature left to enjoy after it's beaten and smacked and trodden down by your discusting, filthy and indulgent lifestyle. (That was a LOT of ands.) And when you see me carrying my geeky (cute) bags all around town, bagging my own groceries at Food4Less (because I not only like to Save the Earth, I also like to Save Major Money) just remember who's putting the chicken on your table. The chicken that was saved the other day because my plastic bags didn't make it into his coop because I just bought me some (darling, amazing, oh-so-stylin') Envirosax. Yeah. Environment. Go. Yeah!

Happy 28th, A-Ware!

Adam biking in Brazil.
Adam with his mom and brother.

Adam biking in Boston.

28 Reasons Why Adam is Awesome:

1. He doesn't let a dish sit in the sink longer than 3 seconds.
2. He is a clean freak.
3. He makes the bed every morning.
4. He carries the laundry to the far away laundry room.

5. He folds garments with department store-like precision.
6. He is obsessed w/biking.
7. He looks great in Spandex.
8. He likes service. Well, only on the days that I hate it. Like the other day we volunteered for Habitat for Humanity. I had to paint and complained all day; he had to shovel dirt and was happy as a little dirt shoveling clam.
9. He loves everything I cook, bake or concoct.
10. With his mouth full, he grunts things like "Oh, Marth, this is the best thing I've EVER tasted!!!!!!!!!" when he eats things I cook, bake or concoct. And he means it.
11. He saves us a lot of money on gas by biking everywhere.
12. He budgets every penny we have. In a detailed Excel spreadsheet. And he LIKES it.
13. He's a good planner.
14. He's enthusiastic.
15. He is NEVER down. I mean NEVER. Unless he gets a flat tire ... on his bike.
16. He knows how to relax.
17. He loves to read.
18. He wins every argument. Like last night, I pointed out that, "Isn't it crazy how car seats weren't even invented when we were little?" and my next line was going to be, "So why the crap do we even need ...?" but he cut in with "Yeah. And a lot of little kids got killed in car accidents." ...Case closed.
19. He {sometimes} lets me pop his zits.

20. He is a really good storyteller.

21. He's good to his mom.

22. He calls grocery store checkers by their first name to say thanks.

23. He nods and smiles softly - not menacingly - when I ramble on about things that I think make my life really, ridiculously hard.

24. He has an amazing singing voice but it's never below him to go off tune to sing with me.

25. He lets me listen to Coast 103.5 in the car, a station he affectionately calls "The Cheese Station." Until he can't take it anymore and his driving becomes impaired by one-too-many Peter Cetera songs.

26. He's a minimalist.

27. He always has a good exit strategy for when any sort of meeting gets too drawn out.

28. He keeps getting awesomer every year.

Where is Bobby Dunbar? Introducing TAL

When my brother Allen came to stay a few visits ago, Adam asked him, "Do you know what happened to Bobby Dunbar?" And I was like, "Yeah. Don't you know what happened to Bobby Dunbar?" And Allen's mind was officially boggled. He hadn't yet heard the story of Bobby Dunbar because he hadn't yet heard of This American Life. If we still had radios in the house, we'd hover around it every Sundee night to have a listen. They're stories that make you cry (like the story I listened to on the way home from work today on my iPod - driving with an iPod - is that bad?), stories that make you think twice, stories about types of people you didn't know existed, stories about the common threads that bind us. Get the free download every week here and let me know if you think.