Central Oregon: Photos and Stories, Part 1

 

Anne and I planned a four-day trip to central Oregon with a stay at Eagle Crest Resort (Worldmark timeshare) in Redmond and, Glory Be, nothing got in the way of the trip—although the Bomb Cyclone almost did. The purpose of the trip was to get out of the house and do some photography. Both goals were met and I’ll share the results in this and the next post with vignettes and photos. As always, comments and notes are appreciated.

At Starbucks in Sandy, OR

Two Early Trip Photo Stops

Our first stop after a windy and rainy drive over Mount Hood was at Peter Skene Ogden State Park and the bridges over the Crooked River Gorge. 

Bob grabbing a bridge picture.

It was nice that it was dry after the Bomb Cyclone flooding the Willamette Valley. This gave me a nice opportunity to try out my new Nikon Zfc mirrorless camera and my new lens, Nikon Z 24-200mm zoom.

The next stop was at Smith Rock State Park at Terrabonne. This is a prime rock climber location with more than a hundred climbing routes—

it was late in the day and we didn’t see any climbers this time. There are numerous hiking trails that start in the park’s main parking area. The rocks, river, and visiting deer gave me plenty of subjects on which to practice.

The Shoe Adventure

Mountains to the west of Sisters--The Sisters are shrouded in clouds.

Old farm between Redmond and Sisters.

We hit snow about ten miles from Sisters on Three Creeks Lake Road.

On our first full day on the east side of the mountains (Cascades) we drove the 18 miles to Sisters, OR, and visited one of our favorite coffee shops, Sisters Coffee, as well as the rest of town. 

No mountain views, but still plenty to photograph.

At a photo stop on the way to Sisters Anne had put on her boots when we got back to the car. From there we went to coffee and Anne’s first walk in her new boots. 

The walk from the car to the shop was about fifty yards after which Anne complained mightily about how badly one boot hurt. At our table, once we'd ordered our coffee and delicious scones, Anne untied her boot, took it off, and pulled out of the boot a medium-sized plastic shoehorn. A man at the next table said, “You walked with that in your shoe?!” To which Anne replied, “It feels much better now.”

Sisters Meat and Smokehouse where we bought sauces and smoked turkey.

Oliver Lemon's Market where we bought specialty olives.

Paying for Stories

We had a great breakfast on our second day in Redmond at Christie’s Kitchen, a restaurant in an older house near downtown. 

We then started our drive to Mitchell fifty miles east on Hwy 126 looking for fall color photos. The hour drive was nice, but the photos didn’t show up. 

We got some views on the way to Mitchell.

The better mountain photos would have been between Mitchell and John Day (another 60 miles)—we weren’t going that far. Instead, we made do with photos in Old Mitchell.

Two experiences in Old Mitchell were interesting—in different ways we endied up paying for stories. First, we visited Little Pine Gift Shop at the end of town. 

As I approached the shop I saw a sign which read, “Restroom for Customer Only.” We decided we’d become customers by buying something—I really need to use the facilities. When we walked in I asked, if we buy something could we use the restroom? The owner and clerk both smiled and the owner chuckled, “Of course, you’re a customer.” There’s the first story: the restroom story. Anne did find out that the shop had been a hardware-grocery-cafe and had recently changed to a gift shop with local products. We did become customers and owners of a winter scent candle and a Christmas decoration. 

The second shop was in the middle of the block that is Old Mitchell. We dropped in to Judy’s Place, an antique/odd-and-ends shop where owner Judy is the star of the show supported by Patches the dog. 

The story we got here was the story of how Mitchell is surviving in troubled times—old homes being redone, new businesses opening (brewery), how the local cafe closed because the most recent owner was just “not right for the town.” [Interpret that as you will.] We didn’t find anything to buy, but I left a fiver for the stories and the picture I took of Patches.

Next: The trip continues with Painted Hills, a museum, and a new auto. 

About Reunions and Tearooms

50th Class Reunion

Anne and I attended the 50th reunion of the South Salem class of 1963.  Since we graduated together neither of us had to be tagged as “The Spouse of...”  We had a good time in a well-planned series of events.  I come away from the weekend with a few impressions.  First, we saw many old friends--who were now old.  Oh well, I guess so are we.  Second, we made some new friends with people we really hadn’t know 50 years ago.  Third, we generally had not much to say to each other.  Conversations went: “Oh, good to see you.  What have you been doing?  That’s nice.  See you around.”  Over and over.  Every once in a while there was some real conversation, but for the most part the Scots would call it “Inconsequential Blether.” Next, our activities were well-planned.  We had an informal gathering with the required name tags with high school yearbook pictures at a local tavern owned by one of our classmates.  Saturday there was a tour of the old alma mater, which Anne and I skipped--we’ve seen enough schools in our careers.  There was also a scramble golf tournament with five teams of four which our team won (cute trophies).  In the evening we gathered for group photo, dinner, and visiting.  The dinner was good and the visiting a little more interesting than the previous evening, but still mostly superficial.  My final impression is that as much fun as was this reunion (it really was enjoyable in a way), we would most likely skip a 60th reunion which would probably be just a morbid gathering to see who was still alive.

We sincerely do appreciate all the work that was put into the events by classmates--they did an outstanding job!

Tearooms

When I visited Trip Advisor looking for eateries in Banchory, Deeside west of Aberdeen, Scotland, three out of the first five in the list were tearooms or coffee shops.  You have to go quite far down the list to get to a pub.  That’s the way things have been changing in Scotland; yesterday’s pub is today’s tearoom.  We have adjusted our writing to fit this new trend.  Our first book, Scotland’s Hidden Gems: Golf Courses and Pubs (no longer available), listed mostly pubs as places to eat.  

Dreel Tavern in Anstruther, a typical Scottish pub.

In the revised edition, Golf in Scotland: The Hidden Gems, tearooms, coffee shops, and restaurants far out number traditional pubs. While we still visit pubs, we are much more likely to spend time in one of Scotland’s fine and interesting tearooms or coffee shops.  How much the Starbuck’s phenomenon has contributed to the change I can’t say, but since all five of our books have been written and edited in our local Canby Starbucks my guess would be Starbucks has had a great influence.  This brings me to the heart of this post:

Anne at the Whistle Stop Cafe in Kinlochewe, a bungalow-type tearoom.

 interesting tearooms and coffee shops we’ve visited in the UK.

A tearoom we’ve visited twice is the Acorn Bank Gardens Tearoom near Penrith, England.  The National Trust garden and tearoom has been a welcome stop on our long drives from Scotland into southern England. 

Hotbed soup for Anne and a sandwich for me at Acorn Bank Gardens.

It was here we had Hotbed Lettuce Soup.  The soup made from lettuce grown in the garden’s hotbeds (thus the name) was a delicious lunch in beautiful surrounding. 

In the nearby Lake District of Cumbria, England (Beatrix Potter country), we have twice stopped at Renoirs Coffee Shop in the tourist village of Windermere. 

Tea in Renoirs in Windermere and listening to a ladies' writing group.

On our last visit we sat next to a group of ladies who were busy discussing their latest writing projects and sharing opinions on self-publishing versus fighting with a publisher.  

In the Cotswolds’ village of Moreton in Marsh we discovered (I guess others had really “discovered” it before us) Mrs. T Potts Tearoom,

Mrs T Pots Tearoom in Moreton in Marsh.

 which advertises “probably the best homemade traditional fayre.”  I don’t know if it’s the best, but it certainly was good and quaint--our first Cotswolds lunch after getting lost on the M6 Motorway around Birmingham. 







 Badger’s Hall in Chipping Campden was another quaint Cotswolds tearoom.  

Come on in, the sweets are delicious.

Not only did we have a fine lunch, but I had fun photographing tourists staring into the tearoom window at all the displayed sweets.

In Scotland we have favored spots.  Our home away from Canby-Starbucks-home is The Red Squirrel Coffee Shop and Gallery in Crieff, the village we call home in Scotland.  The Red Squirrel displays some of my photos and sells my travel stories book, Ten Years of Travel in Scotland, Ireland, England and Wales. 

Anne visits with John and Jane (Jacky's friend from South Africa) in the Red Squirrel.

Any time we have a free morning or afternoon in Crieff we’ll visit here to catch up on our writing.  One evening there was a birthday being celebrated in the Red Squirrel.  Anne and visited for quite a while with an elderly lady (older than us).  She finally looked hard at us and said, "Are you the Americans who have photos on display here?"  I replied that we were.  "I bought your photo of Comrie, my village, a few weeks ago!" It was nice to meet someone who appreciated my work enough to buy it.   A little north of Crieff, up the A9, the main north-south road in Scotland, is the small village of Blair Atholl, home to the magnificent Blair Castle and the only private standing army in Europe, the Atholl Highlanders.  The village is also home to the Watermill Tearoom and Bakery.  

In the working mill they still grind their own flour and use it for baking scrumptious breads and sweets.  It’s hard not to stop at the Watermill for a latte and scone if we're in the area, and then take some fresh baked breads or scones with us.  West from Blair Atholl is the small village of Kinloch Rannoch.  There used to be a nice tearoom in the old post office building, but it closed several years ago.  Now you have to drive about 15 more miles of single track road to get to the hamlet of Rannoch Station which has a small hotel and one of UK’s most isolated rail stations--only one or two trains come through the station daily on the route between Glasgow and Fort William.  Beside a few benches, the only feature of the station is the rustic tearoom which serves homemade soup, sandwiches, and coffee during limited open hours and only during the season.  

Rannoch Station Tearoom is basic, but good.

Get there after the end of September or before the beginning of April and the station is empty.  The road stops at Rannoch Station--beyond is one of the bleakest of the UK’s moors, 

Loch Rannoch on the way to Rannoch Station.

Rannoch Moor, complete with lochans, bogs, quicksand with the nearest civilization to the west 22 miles away.  

There are many other coffee shops or tearooms that we visit when staying in different areas, for example The Old Bakery in Carrbridge when we stay in Aviemore, 

Packhorse Bridge across the road from the Old Bakery Tearoom in Carrbridge.

the Falls of Feugh Tearoom in Banchory where we once watched the river behind the tearoom rapidly rise in a flash flood,  

the Angus Fine Art and Tearoom in Kirriemuir which sadly we think is now closed--we look forward to trying another tearoom in village with the unique name The Surgery Tearoom, 

and Betty’s Bakery and Tearoom when we visit York and where you can wait in line for a table for two hours on a busy Sunday.  

We still have dinners out in restaurants or pubs, but when we can’t find a Starbucks (we’ve visited Starbucks in Elgin, York, Oxford, St Andrews, Edinburgh, Vienna, Bath, Dunfermline, Aberdeen, 

York Starbucks.

and several at Motorway Service areas) we can always find a pleasant tearoom or coffee shop where we can get our latte fix.

Note: All our books, including Ireland’s Small Greens, are available from our website as well as from Amazon.com or Amazon.UK.

Next Post: We leave on 9/11 (what safer day is there to fly when security will be on highest alert?) for our fall visit to Scotland.  We have lots of golf planned as we continue to revise our second Scotland golf guide, Hidden Gems II: Scotland and Wales, and two weeks in Timeshare (Kilconquhar Castle on Fife and Hilton Craggendorrach in the highlands of Cairngorms National Park).  This trip should give me plenty to write about.

Anne is getting prepared for a late fall trip to the Highlands.

Until next time, Slainte!

Missive #13 - December 2012

[Sad Note: This Holiday Season will forever be tainted by the shootings in a Portland Mall and a Connecticut elementary school.  Our hearts and prayers go out to all the victims--those killed or wounded, those friends and family who have had their lives ripped apart by the tragedies, and those of us who recoil in fright at what America has become.  It is time for our political, theological, and social leaders to show that they too are sickened to death by these senseless atrocities and to have the guts to make the difficult choices which can help reign in the insanity.  It is time for the rest of us to demand that those same leaders take positive actions and hold them responsible if they don't.]  

Our Christmas Missive, in lieu of a Christmas card or letter, tells what we’ve been doing through some small stories or observations.  Since the travel blog entries give the big details, these vignettes will fill in the small bits.  

Troubles with Rental Autos or Stop the Alarm and Lock the Boot!  We love the Toyota Prius we rented from Arnold Clark Auto in the spring--it was comfortable, easy to drive, and very economical which is important when petrol is $12 a gallon. 

We found out it did come with a major problem.  At Huntingtower Castle outside Perth the car’s alarm sounded as we toured the castle--we heard it and then it shut off.  

I left the castle and checked on the car.  Everything seemed fine.  As I walked away the alarm sounded again.  I shut it off by opening the door and starting the car.  We didn’t have a problem the rest of the evening in our B&B--it never went off at Merlindale.  The next day as we arrived to play Carnoustie’s Burnside golf course the alarm started going off every ten minutes and we couldn’t get it to quit.  We met Colin McLeod, the golf manager, who said he’d take care of the car.  We gave him the key and heard the alarm as we headed down the first fairway.  

We heard the alarm again as we came up to the 18th green. They had moved the car to the front of the office and a secretary would unlock and re-lock the car when the alarm would sound.  Colin had even called Arnold Clark in London, but didn’t get any answers to our problem.  After profusely thanking Colin and the secretary, we drove to our B&B in Crieff and called Arnold Clark’s repair number.  Shortly a mechanic came out to check the car.  He did everything he could to set off the alarm--we rocked the car, popped the bonnet, simulated breaking through a window--nothing would trigger the alarm now.  His conclusion was that the alarm sensor was completely bedeviled and he had no idea what it would do next.  I called the rental company and made arrangements to return the car if the alarm sounded again, but said that I’d keep it even if the alarm wasn’t functioning.  The next day we headed for the Highlands.  The alarm never sounded again.  

In the fall we again rented a Toyota.  A couple of weeks into our trip we thought we discovered a problem with the car.  

One day I walked up to the locked car and opened the boot (truck) without punching the key to unlock it.  Opps!  Had I forgotten to lock it or was it not locking?  All the next day I kept locking the car and checking the boot.  Each time it opened without touching the key.  Now we were really worried that our possessions would be very much at risk.  After golf, as the rain was pouring down, we drove past an Arnold Clark dealer.  I turned around and drove back hoping they could help us.  The dealer wasn’t rental and was selling VWs not Toyotas, but a mechanic said he’d try to help us.  In heavy rain he played with the lock and the key and got the same results.  Finally, he got an idea--locked the car, gave me the key, and told me to walk about 20 feet away.  The boot wouldn’t open!  It had been opening because I was in range and the lock recognized the key in my pocket.  Not a word about that was in the manual--we had checked.  Problem solved.  The boot had been locked all the time, until I’d walk up to it.  Ah, the trials and tribulations of rental cars!

The Bad Knee and Grocery Shopping.  Before our spring trip to Scotland I was told by my doctor that about half the cartilage in my right knee was gone and prescribed PT to strengthen the muscles around the knee.  I could golf with care, but no more carrying clubs.  No problem until we got to Scotland.  I had no problems on the course or touring castles, but the first time and every time I went shopping with Anne in a grocery store the pain would flare up, my knee would start to pop, and I would walk out limping.  A few minutes later I’d be fine with only a little residual tenderness.  Anne and Jacky (our B&B friend) wouldn’t believe me.  Why only the grocery store, they’d say.  I had no answers, but I swear I wasn’t trying to get out of shopping--I rather enjoy seeing the differences between our stores and the Scottish stores.  The fall trip was the same.  For the most part it doesn’t happen in our Fred Meyers or Thriftway grocery stores.  I’ve come to the conclusion that my knee is allergic to Scottish grocers and I’m trying to come up with a name for my newly discovered ailment.  Storitis-Scoticus, perhaps.

Potato Skins at Turnberry.  In a fit of inspiration we stopped at the famous Turnberry GC to find out if we could play.  We could and without breaking the bank.  

After a wonderful round on a world class course we went into the clubhouse lounge for an after-round snack.  The special was potato skins with bacon and cheese, and we ordered one order to share. Think about what one order of potato skins would be in a US clubhouse or pub--a couple of bakers hollowed out, filled with cheese and bacon bits, and broiled. What we got was a small plate with five halves of fingerling potatoes, each about two inches long, hollowed out and lightly sprinkled with cheese and bacon.  Each skin was about one bite’s worth, maybe two if you nibbled.  Price: £5.50 (or $9.00 US)--that’s more than a pound sterling per fingerling half!  Moreover, the potatoe skins (I took spelling lessons from Dan Quayle) weren’t even Yukon Golds.  

Ordering Lattes in Scotland.  Anne and I arrived in Aviemore in time to stop into a local coffee shop for an afternoon latte.  

Here is the exchange when I went to the counter to order:

Me:   I’d like two large vanilla lattes with nonfat milk for staying in, please.

Barista:   That’s two cappuccinos?

Me:   No, two lattes.

Barista:   What size?

Me:   Large, please.

Barista:   To go or stay in?

Me:   Stay in.

Barista:   Two cappuccinos to go...what size?

Me:   No, two large lattes for in.

Barista:   Two large lattes for staying in?

Me:   Yes, with vanilla.

Barista: Two large cappuccinos with vanilla.

Me:   (Louder) No, two large vanilla lattes for staying in!

Barista:   Okay, do you want that for here or to go?

We eventually got our drinks, but I’m sure they were not nonfat.  Some days you’re the windscreen, and some days you’re the bug.

Have a Great Holiday Season.  Slainte!  Bob and Anne