Spokane to Bend

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Today’s destination is Bend, Oregon which is about seven hour drive away according to my mapping software from Apple. It is a pretty direct route, but 10 miles out of Spokane my GPS decided to send me off on a side road parallel to the freeway for about 10 miles, only to join it again. The only thing I can think of was that there was a traffic jam or accident ahead. In the States that feature is functional on the GPS. I decided to ignore it and it turned out there was nothing causing a delay. Just another computer hiccup I guess. From then on it worked great and without it I would have been lost getting through Pasco. That city is a challenge for someone who doesn’t know the place as Les and I found out on our trip to Portland in 2011.

I held off on breakfast until I got to the small prairie town of Ritzville where I found the only functioning restaurant in town, “Jake’s”, but that seemed appropriate. The rest of the town looked rundown with lots of boarded up store fronts. Inside Jake’s there was seating for about 50 people, but there were only ten collected in a corner. Four of the men were together and from their discussion, that I couldn’t help but overhear, they were a group of farmers all aged over fifty. To me they sounded like a group of good-old-boys from further south in the US.

The fifty-plus waitress greated me. “Are you havin’ breakfast darlin?”

“You bet,” I told her.

“Well you sit right here and I’ll bring you a menu sweetheart.”

I noticed that their pancakes cost $5 for one. I thought that was unique and worth a try so ordered one and then asked her if I could have just two sausages with it rather than the full order of four.

“Oh we can’t do that, darlin. We can’t give special orders to the cook. It gets too confusing for him when it is busy.”

I looked around the room again and the place was really only 10% full. I would have like to have been a fly on the wall in the kitchen when the place was full. The stress must be incredible.

My order came and the pancake was so big that it covered the plate. I ate half of that and two of the four of the ‘standard side order’ of sausages, paid my money and got underway.

Talking about ‘paying my money’, yesterday, when I was getting coffee in Sandpoint, I put my money on the counter and then noticed the barista pulling out a bunch of tens and twenties to make change. Without having my glasses on I’d given her two one dollar bills and a hundred dollar bill thinking it was another dollar bill. I’ll never pay cash down here again without my glasses on. To me the bills all look the same, that is without my glasses on. Thank goodness she was so honest. I guess I depend on the colour of our bills more than I realised.

The drive to Pasco and then on down the Columbia River Valley was boring and seemed longer than it was. However, when I turn up the side valley at Biggs on Highway 97 to head for Bend on the last leg of the day, everything improved.

The climb out of the Columbia River Valley was long and steep. When I crested the top edge the landscape opened out into productive looking farming land as far as the eye could see. It was similar to the landscape in southeastern Saskatchewan.

I hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast at Ritzville so I stopped at the first town I came to, Morro. By chance, I parked outside the Morro Cafe and Bakery so I just walked in. What a treat that place was. The first thing notable was a classic old cafe, but had round booths and a large bar complete with a wall mirror behind it. It looked like it had been a saloon at one time. I found out later on that it had been, but had started life in 1908 as a mercantile business and then a pharmacy. It became a cafe about thirty years ago. I talked to the two young women running the place. One of them, who did the cooking, was part owner along with her husband. The other woman had wanted to get out of Portland, was a friend of the other, and agreed to come out to Morro to work at the cafe. They told me how important it was to them to serve good food made from fresh produce. They said they made everything from scratch, including their soups and desserts. I complemented them on their business and told them there was an opportunity in Cochrane for the same thing if they were interested. We all had a good laugh at that. I mean, why would they want to leave where they lived: a small, economically healthy community, beautiful countryside, and the peace and quiet of being far away from any large city. They seemed very happy with their lot.

On that drive to Bend from the north the mountains to the west seem to loom up without much warning and they are spectacular. In particular, Mount Hood is a giant and dominates every peak around it. Unfortunately there was too much haze to make a useful photograph.

I arrived in Bend about 6 pm and followed my GPS to the Bend Best Western, but it wasn’t. I arrived at the spot indicated and found about 15 motels and hotels, but no Best Western. I pulled into the Three Sisters Motel to find that it was a Best Western until three years ago. I was tired of driving so I checked in. It was not a great place. I won’t go into any whining here - I already wrote that on my Trip Adviser account.

I think Bend would, for me, to be a good city to live in. It is sort of like a very large Canmore, but with more history associated with being a city. The city planners have done a marvellous job and I think it is very well laid out. The old downtown is vibrant with activities during the work day and and night. I visited a brewery pub that Les and I discovered in Portland in 2011, The Deschutes Brewery and Public House. The Deschutes River is what flows through Bend and is the home to this brewery. The food and beer was excellent.

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Photos

Deserted Farm
I am always attracted to old, deserted farms. I usually end up standing there for a while, imagining what it was like when it was alive with a family.