Timberline Lodge

The title is a comment that my mom made to her four teenagers frequently as she was raising us. With my dad gone I know it was very tough for her. Is it bad that I used to snicker at her comment, as I was usually high when she said it? That is the only anti-drug information we received, except for Nancy Reagan and the “Just Say No” campaign.

It occurred to me that I never wrote about my trip to find snow with my cousin Peter, who was here visiting from Australia for the first time. He had never encountered snow in his life and it was on his list of things to do before he dies, so I wanted to make it happen. I happen to have one of those lists myself. The photos had been sitting on my desktop waiting, but I’ll admit that things ended oddly with Peter. He is gone now, but I’ll still write about our trip because it was fun.

Peter, taking my photo as I took his. I just noticed he’s giving me the finger. Fucker.

We drove up to Mt. Hood the day after a blizzard. I was expecting him to be excited, but I guess I underestimated that excitement due to the fact that he is 29. As soon as we could park somewhere where there was snow he wanted to jump out of the car and play. I was ready to be hit by a snowball or two, but holy shit, 29 years of waiting for a snowball fight came flying in my direction. I ended up turning my back to him because I was worried he would ruin my camera which was hanging around my neck. He finally jumped back into the car, ready to drive further up to Mt. Hood. I stood outside stomping my shoes and trying to shake the snow out of my hair and brush it off my coat. Also, to be honest, it had filled my bra and gone down the back of my neck and I wanted to shake off as much as I could before we got back into the heated car and it melted. The silly guy, he was watching me through the car window, and he jumped out and put his arm around me, asking if I was OK. I laughed and said that I was just brushing myself off a bit. He said that he thought I was angry with him and I was having some kind of tantrum. You know the foot stomping kind?

Polly was along for the trip, and she seemed utterly bored until I mentioned that The Shining had been filmed up at the lodge. She perked right up and asked why I hadn’t mentioned it sooner. When we went in and looked around there was a restaurant (two, I think) so they wanted to eat. We went and sat down and the waitress took forever bringing water and our menus. I saw that the food was pricey and before I had the time to say to myself, “You are about to spend $20. on a salad.”, Peter had declared the menu ridiculous. He said he’d rather eat at a Subway on the drive back home and I didn’t care, because I was wet and tired, not hungry, and if he’d asked if we could get a couple of rooms and stay the night I probably would have shrugged and said, “Sure.” Sometimes the meds work a little too well, methinks, but I figured it was his trip. I’ve been to Mt. Hood countless times. I must admit that if I spend any amount of time in a bar, restaurant or store I always feel as if I should drop some money. We ordered cocoa and Peter grabbed the check before I could and then I tried to argue with him about who would pay until he finally relented and told me to leave the tip because they don’t tip much in Australia and he didn’t know how to do it. We then went to the gift shop and I really wanted to buy myself a stuffed St. Bernard because we had one when I was a little girl but I was good and I kept my purse closed.

After we left the lodge we walked around for awhile before getting back in the car. More snowballs, more photos, except I actually hit him a few times. I thing he let me though because my arm? I’ve been told by my husband that “I throw like a girl”. Whatever! I am a girl. And, I’ll never play catch with my husband again.

We stopped at Subway for sandwiches that we ate in the car because Peter can’t have anyone look at him while he eats. This guy, he is related to me! I don’t like eating in front of others either.

Next we headed off to Hood River and then on to Multnomah Falls. I used to have a friend from NY who used to laugh at our little Multnomah Falls because he grew up next to Niagara Falls and I never felt like I had a witty comment but hell, at least we don’t have to suffer through the winters they have in Buffalo.

No one was interested in hiking to the top of the waterfalls, and once again I didn’t care. Been there, done that. My Dad always dictated what we did on every family outing and if he had told us to hike to the top of the falls on hands and knees over hot rocks or broken glass we would have done so without so much as a whimper. Now? I’m pretty calm about things 99% of the time and the rest? I am hoping that no one will notice my anxiety before the Klonopin kicks in.

On the drive back Peter seemed elated to have experienced the snow and I was happy that I had gone along for the ride. A few years back I was afraid to leave the house. Look at me now, taking road trips and all!

Peter let it slip while driving; there was something else he wanted to do while here in America. He wanted to see a bear. I thought that I had heard him wrong at first; then I did the next thing. I promised to take him to the Zoo the following weekend. That is a story for another day. I’ll upload some photos and call this finished.

Multnomah Falls