Special Guest Star

(the dying light of Oregon fades behind the campsite of our heroes)

Oh my. I've always wanted to be part of a group-blog. I find the whole idea of them thrilling.

Hi everybody. I'm Jason, and I have joined up with the Americana Blitz for the west coast leg of their campaign. I got into Portland late last night (thank you JetBlue, for providing a cheap and painless flight), crashed in a cheap hotel room, and waited for our heroes to make their way from Cascade Locks. Then, armed only with an old tent, a new sleeping bag, and an eight-pack of some energy drink called JetSet, I set off to see one side of America with the intrepid Jim and Trefor.

Observations and anecdotes, in no particular order, shall follow:

Oregon is full of hills and dirt and trees and is quite lovely. In the flatter areas one could observe a phenomenon called a dust-devil, which looks like a miniature tornado and also looks awesome.

I flew to Portland, OR from NYC which is both cheating and missing most of the point of the Americana Blitz trip: to drive through and experience "flyover country" from the ground level. Instead I, well, flew over it. My apologies to the Dakotas.

I travelled fairly light, bringing only clothes, a tent (packed small) a couple of books and notebooks, my phone and a small camera. Once in Portland, I acquired a sleeping bag (the one I already owned was old and ragged and in no shape for proper use). I also acquired energy drinks - these are to be of paramount importance in the days to follow.

Campsites do not always have coffee, and even if they do have coffee it is not always drinkable. Neither Trefor nor Jim drinks coffee, and so they haven't brough a portable kettle or any such device to ensure coffee. I, however, average about three cups a day, and if a suitable caffeine alternative is not available, I will go into hideous withdrawal symptoms and kill Jim just by staring at him via the power of my headache. So into the grocery store we went, to locate canned energy drinks for the poor lily-livered city boy.

The only energy drink I could find on the shelves was something called "JetSet", which I'd never heard of before. It came in "Original", "Tonic", "Club Soda" and "Ginger Ale" flavors. I opted for "Club Soda", as it had no sugar in it. I would always buy sugar-free energy drinks, except that most energy drinks feel obligated to provide a flavor, and use aspartame or "Splenda" to compensate, and I can't stand either taste. "Club Soda" flavor is not obligated to taste like anything. I may end up scouring NYC looking for cans of this stuff once I get back. We'll see how the first can goes tomorrow.

We stopped at two eateries along the way south through Oregon. The first was the "Gay 90's Ice Cream and Deli". Trefor and Jim were confused and amused by the sign (which featured a man on an old-timey bicycle, the kind with the big front wheel), and I had to explain to them that the "Gay 90's" is a common (or at least used to be) way of referring to the 1890's. The ice cream was very good, made even better by Trefor's amazing discovery (which he's blogged about before) of putting apple-based hot sauce on the ice cream. The ice cream perfectly tempers the spice, so you get the pleasure without the pain, and the apple is not as sweet as a candy apple sauce would be. Excellent discovery.

After ice cream we went across the street and browsed Used Books. I didn't buy anything. Anyone who knows me well is now either doubting my word or worrying about me, but I really didn't find anything I was desperate to buy. So I left empty-handed. Which may be the first time I've ever left a non-Christian bookstore like that. I feel a little dirty. And a little scared.

We stopped for dinner at a place called "Heaven on Earth", because it's highway sign promised "free samples". We didn't know of what, but we knew they were free, which was enough of a deciding factor.

We also tried to stop at an amusement park called "The Enchanted Forest". Jim and Trefor's research had led them to believe that this was a handmade amusement park carved out of trees. This looked to be sort of the case. But it also looked really boring if you did not want to ride rides and were not under 10 years of age. And it also cost 9 dollars admission and then more if you wanted to do things. So we just held up the line for a little while deliberating and then shoved our way back to the parking lot and split. The parking lot was probably the best part anyway - it had a huge wooden painted castle face and blasted fakey-renaissance music from poor speakers. Also, the sign in front of the Enchanted Forest was clearly one of their old highway signs which they took down and put back up in front of the park itself, because at the bottom of the sign it read "NEXT EXIT" and had an arrow pointing away from the Enchanted Forest. It was very confusing and caused us to miss the entrance to the parking lot on the first try. The Enchanted Forest is basically stupid.

Heaven on Earth, on the other hand, was the exact opposite of stupid, which is GENIUS. The free samples turned out to be of their desserts, which were delicious. Pumpkin pudding, various cookies, and a marionberry jam (made from marion blackberries, but called marionberry, which of course just made Trefor and I ponder for a moment if it was named after the felonious and omnipresent former mayor of D.C.). There were also many, many other desserts that were not being sampled, such as cinnamon buns literally as big as my head. The food at Heaven on Earth was equally brilliant, mostly southern comfort food but with enough vegetarian options to make sure that Jim ate well. (He got the neverending tomato-vegetable soup in a sourdough breadbowl, Trefor and I each got a chicken-fried steak). To top it off, they brought us even more free dessert at the end of the meal. If you're ever headed through South Oregon on Interstate-5, Heaven on Earth is officially Highly Recommended.

Though the day was great from beginning to end, the best moment came early. Leaving the "Taste Tickler" in Portland (a hole in the wall eatery specializing in sub sandwiches and Japanese Bento boxes), we came face to face with this idling at the red light out front:

The picture is a little blurry, but that's a dog in a jean jacket in a bucket on the back of a motorcycle. Which is exactly the kind of omen I like to see at the beginning of a trip like this.

Ride, doggie. Ride.