MyQuest | my thoughts on life's journey

Portland

Tuesday I flew to Portland, Oregon, where my friend Dan Morrow, an Episcopal priest, had invited me to give a presentation as part of his Philosophy and Faith Lenten lecture series.  I had never been to Portland, to Oregon, or to anywhere in the Great Northwest.  Which is why it was so much fun, after he picked me up from the airport, that we drove up the Columbia River Gorge.

The highest concentration of waterfalls on the North American continent is in this gorge, and we saw quite a few of them, including the stunning Multnomah Falls.  The Columbia is quite lovely, living up to one's expectations.  Though it was rather placid that day -- no "Roll on, Columbia, roll on."

We drove as far east as Hood River and stopped for a brewery tour.  When he learned that I'd never been to Washington state either, we crossed the river at Bridge of the Gods and spent a little time in Washington (state number 36 for me, with Oregon being 35).

The next day, my 39th birthday, I hung out with Toni McDowell, who also resides in Portland.  We went thrift store shopping, ate good food, and saw the theatre she works for.  My brunch that morning, at a place called Toast, was pork belly on a bed of Brussels sprouts and sweet potato with a duck egg on top.  Delicious.

That evening the presentation went very well, with around 70 people in attendance.  They had purchased a birthday cake for the occassion.  Afterwards Dan, his wife Theresa, and I went for Scotch.

Thursday was food, books, and art.  A Reggie at Pine State Biscuits, also very delicious, followed by Powell's Books.  I only bought ten books, mostly philosophy and religion.  Tasty fresh fish blue plate special at Jake's (with beer of course) followed by a Voodoo Donut.  Then we spent a little time in the art museum and took a peek inside the First Congregational Church across the street -- they have a fascinating Venetian-style tower unlike anything I've ever seen on a church.

For dinner we all went to Pok Pok, a fun, creative Vietnamese place most famous for their very hot chicken wings.

Absinthe

It was the best piece of beef I've ever eaten.  Here's the story.

 

That Tuesday night in Paris we wondered around looking for a place to dine.  Tom had gone to the grocery store earlier in the day and said when he returned, "There are a number of restaurants north of us.  We should go that way tonight."  So, we did.  For Rob, who has stayed at the same hotel over 50 times, the restaurants a few blocks north were a surprise, new to the area since he had last wandered that way.

We just couldn't seem to pick any place, and finally were lured in by the menu of a place called Absinthe.  And boy were we glad.

I don't remember what the other guys had, but I selected the Grilled Prime Rib-Black Angus.  It came with Baby potatoes and garlic confit.  

As I wrote at the opening, it was simply the best piece of beef I've ever eaten.   It was so tender, it melted in my mouth.  And the flavour!  I said to our excellent waiter Sylvain, "This is the best beef I've ever had, and I'm from the Great Plains.  We know beef!"  He smiled a devilish smile.

As we neared the end of our main course, the table behind us ordered absinthe itself, and we decided that we must do the same.  I'd never had it before, but really enjoyed it.

Then, we ordered dessert.  I had the home made ice creams and sorbets.

Afterwards we all agreed it was the best meal we'd had in Paris.  Tom kept saying it was among the best meals he'd ever had.  I agreed.

Le Petit Prince

That Monday night in Paris, we went to dinner at Le Petit Prince, a favourite of both Rob's and Tom's.  Typical for Americans, we arrived after 7 and were still the first diners to arrive.  We had a cocktail to begin the evening's festivities.

For the first course, I had Creamy Wild Mushroom Soup with hazelnuts, smoked duck, and ricotta.  

Tom had Zucchini and Sea Scallop Flan with toasted spice bread.

And Rob had Tapas of lightly marinated Foie Gras and smoked Duck Magret (with mango, black radish, arugula, and green asparagus).

For the main course, I had Duck Magret with shallots and wild mushrooms, potato and bacon brochette.

Tom had Noisette of Lamb, red pepper sauce, green olive tapenade.

And Rob had Turbot Steak and zucchini slivers, Monbazillac sauce.  

Dessert was Three Mousses (dark chocolate, white chocolate, coffee).

We walked home across Pont Neuf.

It warms up, a little

The first two days in Paris had been rather cool to cold, often overcast, and, at times, wet and dreary.  Occassionally the sun had broken through to provide clear, beautiful skies.  It was like that all day on our third day there.  It was a stunningly beautiful day.

After a late start, we visited the church of Saint Roche next door to our hotel.  It was much larger than it looked from the facade, nestled tightly into the street.  This was an old royal church and is filled with lovely art.

Then, a little brunch, before heading over to Les Invalides.  We stopped at the head of the mall leading up to the building and enjoyed the walk.  When I had taken this walk in March 2000, groups of old men were playing bocce ball along the mall.  Not today.

Les Invalides is the old military hospital (there is still one on the premises) that currently houses the army museums and the tomb of Napoleon and other prominent military leaders.  I had never visited inside the museum.  In 2000 we had walked over there one day, but arrived too late to enter.

Back in college a group of friends were going to Paris, and Aimee George (now Brown) asked me if I wanted anything.  I said, "Speak my name at Napoleon's tomb."  I didn't have a reason, it just sounded silly and cool.  When she returned, she confirmed for me that she had fulfilled the task.  Finally, almost twenty years later, I got to see the tomb for myself.

I was most impressed by the way Marshal Foch, leader of the Allies during the First World War is entombed.  The light and shadow play powerfully across the statuary.

Following our visit to Napoleon, we toured the World War I and II Museum.  This was freshly remodeled and very well displayed.  It was fascinating seeing the story told from a French perspective.  For instance, it begins in 1870 with the end of the Franco-Prussian War.  It was also interesting to see how they covered the Vichy Regime and collaboration.  The heroes of the Resistance were lauded, of course, and de Gaulle was the great hero.

Completing this museum, we didn't tour any of the other army museums in the facility; we were a little museumed out for the day.  Instead, we crossed the street and visited the Rodin Museum, which is mostly a garden filled with sculpture.  On this pretty day, it was quite nice to stroll through the garden in the late afternoon light.

Then, we drank of course (at two different cafes) and decided our dinner plans.  For dinner we went to the Ile St. Louis (the other main island in the Seine, behind Notre Dame) and strolled along looking for a restaurant.  We found a lovely one that was very traditional looking with rustic French cuisine.  Rob and I enjoyed cassoulet.  The room was filled with tightly placed tables and benches.  Everyone was drinking and feasting and having a merry time.

Throughout the trip our conversations were filled with discussions of politics, history, religion, and philosophy.  

It was a good day.

The Final Day of our 2012 Great Lakes Trip

We left our Milwaukee hotel and drove around downtown a little bit enjoying the sites, before heading to the Milwaukee Public Market to look around and get breakfast.  I had a great cheese danish, but Michael could not find a croissant.  He had a giant snikerdoodle cookie instead.  I did buy some Wisconsin craft beer while we were there.

They also had a beautiful store selling oils and vinegars.  The clerk was delightful and helpful, one of those great little conversations you have with someone while traveling.  I think I enjoy those the best of everything travel affords.  We tasted so many different oils and vinegars, I almost wondered if I needed breakfast afterwards.  We purchased three -- a mushroom & sage olive oil, a fig balsamic, and an incredible 16-year balsamic.  We've already used them all in our cooking.

And then it was off.  Milwaukee would be worth another, longer visit.

We pulled off the road in Delafield to the church of St. John Chrysostom.  It was in our book of 500 notable American buildings that we often travel with and try to see one or two of the buildings.  This one is a little Episcopal church designed by Richard Upjohn that was quite lovely, though it was unfortunately closed, and we could not get inside.

Next to it was  a military academy run by the Episcopal Church.  We walked around it a bit.  The entire town was both quaint and oddly felt like a conservative enclave.  

We then spent the afternoon in Madison.  I have been hearing about and wanting to get to Madison for years, and it did not disappoint.  First off, I think the downtown is maybe the most well-platted city I've ever been in.  The streets are very well organized, and it was not remotely difficult to figure out as a visitor.  And there are excellent, easy-to-find, cheap, and well-placed municipal parking garages.  

We walked down State Street, which runs between the capitol and the university.  It was filled with a wide array of people, which made the people-watching itself quite fun.  We decided to lunch at an Afghani place, as neither of us had ever had Afghani cuisine before.  It was right next to an Ethiopian restaurant, which was also right next to a Turkish-Italian place.  Very cosmpolitan is Madison.

Actually it and Milwaukee both made us wish Omaha was cooler, that it was more like some of its sister cities in the Midwest.  

From lunch we walked down to the university and looked around.  It has some attractive buildings and is well-located on a lake.  Then we walked back to the center of town to visit the state capitol.

We've visited a handful of state capitols, but this one also had particular resonance because of its role in recent American history.  I found it also nicely laid out, easily accessible, and unintimidating.  The Oklahoma State Capitol has for years closed its grand entrances and forced one through side entrances for security checks.  I appreciate how other capitols I've been too, such as Nebraskas, remain wide open to the public.  The organization continued inside, with nice directional markers, including the lights in the hallways having the name of the street etched on them, so you knew which exit you were oriented toward.  Very nice.

The rotunda is attractive.  The building is not as overdone as some state capitols, but it was more ornate in places than I like.  I've grown up on the very small-r republican nature of the Oklahoma capitol, which also allows it to display very small-d democratic art and portraiture that emphasizes the very diverse people who have contribued to state history rather than filling itself with Euro-centric mythic images.

There is a nice observation deck from which one can see the city and the surrounding lakes.

From Madison we drove toward Dubuque, Iowa.  I was listening to Frank Sinatra and Nina Simone and singing along as I drove.  That drive is among the most scenic I've ever taken, which totally surprised me.  I've spent my life driving through farm country in America's heartland, but never anything as beautiful as this.  Wide vistas of rolling hills with picture-perfect farms -- big houses, big red barns, silos.  I kept saying to Michael, "This looks like America."  As it clearly looked like all those pictures of American farmland that one sees must have been taken in this part of Wisconsin.

As we neared the Mississippi River bridge, I was awestruck by the beauty of the view and quickly and loudly awakened a napping Michael to share in the surprising moment.  Big hills, wooded islands, the bridge high above the river, Dubuque sitting along the oppostive bank.  One of the great surprises of the entire trip was this vista.

We hadn't left Madison until 4 p.m., much later than we expected.  And it was a very long drive back to Omaha.  So, we didn't stop in Dubuque or anywhere else along our travels, other than a quick fast-food dinner in Cedar Rapids, the only place on our trip, and outside of Wisconsin, where we had cheese curds.  It felt like we had missed something until we did that.

It was 11 p.m. when we made it into Omaha.  We had hoped to listen to convention coverage, but we could find no FM station covering it, even NPR.  Iowa Public Radio was playing classical music!  We did find an AM station, but it was very staticy and difficult to hear and finally I'd had enough.

"And do it our way, yes our way"

"Make all our dreams, co-ome true.  For me and you."

Okay, so we didn't don hair nets and smocks and sing this song together in the streets of Milwaukee.  Michael does control my eccentricities at times.

On day six of our 2012 Great Lakes Trip, we left Munising, Michigan early in the morning and drove south across the UP, through the Hiawatha National Forest, and to the west shore of Green Bay.  It was a very pretty morning drive.  And the drive along Green Bay was rather nice as well.  

After a couple of hours, we stopped to walk along the beach and enjoy the pretty weather and water of the bay.  

And we stopped again when we got to Menominee, Michigan.  They have a cute old downtown.  Of course we sang "Menominee" like it was the lyrics to the Muppet Song "Menomena."  We crossed the Menominee River and immediately stopped again in Marinette, Wisconsin at the visitor information center, which had a nice adjacent park.  Though, it had no public bathrooms that you could access when the center was closed (it was Labor Day), which is not very welcoming.  They also had a very nice public library addition, which demonstrates well how new architecture should compliment historic structures, not try to slavishly imitate them (and generally fail).

We had one more brief stop outside Oconto where an ancient Native burial ground is in a state park beside the Oconto River.  Most of the rivers were passed along our trip were quite picturesque.

We lunched in Green Bay at Titletown Brewing where we had a gigantic pretzel appetizer, I enjoyed an elk burger, and Michael had a cranberry turkey sandwich served on zucchini bread.  Not your typical brew pub fare!

Outside Milwaukee we visited the majestic Lynden Sculpture Garden.  This was a private collection on a private estate which is now open to the public.  One really can appreciate the size and scope of these modern sculptures, while also getting up close and interacting with them.  They also invite you to see the sculpture in the trees and landscapes.  This was the first really hot day of the trip, and I was burning up by the time we had walked the 40 acres of art.

A short drive brought us into downtown Milwaukee to our hotel.  Michael had never been there before, and I had only once been there briefly in 2004 for lunch while driving through.  At that time Milwaukee impressed me as being far nicer than I had anticipated.  I had, at the time, assumed it would be a declining old industrial city, but it wasn't.  And even less true today.  There has been much new development and there are thriving downtown neighborhoods.

After a little rest, we drove around downtown and saw the Calatrava-designed art museum (only the exterior).  I must say, I didn't like it.  It felt like a Princess Cruise ship had run aground.  Too kitschy.

With it being Labor Day, some of the restaurants we wanted to try were clsoed.  We went to the Third Ward looking for dinner, and after walking around a long time, settled on one named Water Buffalo.  We assumed that meant southeast Asian cuisine, as that is primarily where wild water buffalo live (see this Wikipedia entry), but that couldn't have been further from what was on the menu.  The name had nothing whatsoever to do with the food available.  At first I was very disappointed, even grumpy, but we both really enjoyed what we ordered.  I really enjoyed the roasted pork belly, and Michael liked his pork medallions.

After dinner we went to Fluid in the Walker's Point neighborhood, the location of many of the city's gay bars, for a couple martinis and spent much of the time talking about our relationship and things we'd learned about ourselves and our interaction during the trip.  We had a final drink at the hotel bar, which was too much, as I got sick in the night.  Very unpleasant.

All that remained for our final day was to enjoy some of the sites along the way as we drove back to Omaha.  The final surprises are to come.

It was like stepping into the 19th century

It was like stepping into the 19th century as we departed the ferry on Mackinac Island.  Not only did the town look that old (some of it is even from the 17th century), but everyone was biking away, pulling luggage in handcarts, and then a horse-drawn wagon rounded the corner to take on supplies.  Magical.

That magic continued.  The next morning I was sitting on the porch reading a book when the horse-drawn garbage wagon rode by.  Everywhere one could hear the clop-clop of horses hooves.  But often it was very silent, especially off in the natural parts of the island.  I finally remarked to Michael, "I just realized why it is so silent.  No motors."

The fastest people we encountered on the island were elderly people in their motorized carts.  They scooted along down the streets past the horses and pedestrians. 

Normally when there are no cars, the streets are open to pedestrians, but not here.  Pedestrians stayed on the sidewalks due to bicycles and carriages in the streets.

There is great horse culture on the island.  Many of the locals keep and ride horses.  There are little stables down most side streets, which must be like most cities were historically.  You can even rent your own carriages to get around.

One is also reminded, however, that with horses come horse poop.  One must be on guard about it, though there is a veritable army of street cleaners.

Mackinac Island (the c is silent) is a veritable paradise.  One might wonder that it would be too theme-parky, but it is not.  Though clearly a tourist site, and one since the 1820's or so, it is also an authentic place where you get to experience how the people who live there live.  About 500 live year-round and many other summer there ("Cottagers" they are called).  In the winter when the ice "makes" people take snowmobiles to the mainland (or, as the mother of the landlady of the B&B called it "overseas") rather than the ferry.

The island is filled with splendid homes, called "Cottages."  

There is the Grand Hotel.  It commands a cliffside and has extensive grounds.  It is the old fashioned type of luxury hotel and cost way outside our price range.  But even if we could afford it, we found the whole place rather pretentious.  We did, however, the first night end up wandering through a wooded, yet partially lighted, set of trails on their grounds.  We werent' sure where we were; we just followed a trail.  When we passed some topiary hedges, Michael said, "I feel like I'm in The Shining."  Indeed.

There are also other hotels, from old inns to more recent places.  No national chains fortunately (the only national chain on the island is a Starbucks that annoys the locals because the person who got the permit only claimed to be opening a coffee shop.  I think they've tighted the rules since then.).

There are also many Beds and Breakfast.  We stayed in a small, quaint one, The Bogan Lane Inn.  Our proprietor and her mother have run it for decades.  The mother was once the island nurse, and she shared many stories of life on the island.  My favourite was the one about her son having to kayak to driver's ed classes when in high school because the class, on the mainland ("overseas"), began before the first ferry in the morning.

One activity is to browse the shops in town.  We bought some Michigan wines and other local products, but largely avoided shopping.  Our first night we had a really good dinner (one of the best of the trip) at Millie's on Main.  It was the fried whitefish and fries.  Very yummy.  Lunch the next day was at the Ice House and was an absolutely perfect BLT that just hit the spot.  The added touch was a little Gouda.  Dinner the final night was at the Yankee Rebel.  We were a little disappointed with it, not because the food was bad, it just wasn't remarkable.  Our appetizer was the Mussels Diablo.  I had the walleye, and Michael had a pork chop.  He thought his chop wasn't seared properly and was overcooked.  I did like my fish.  I also tried to drink local beers throughout the trip.  

At the B&B she prepared great baked goods every morning for breakfast and accompanied those with home made jellies, jams, and sour cream.  Yum.  Every sat around the table together and enjoyed the conversation.  Unfortunately the weekend guest from Australia never arrived, as her bus broke down in Lansing.  How sad.

Every morning I'd sit on the porch before breakfast, curled up on the wicker settee wearing a light sweatshirt and enjoying the cool morning air, drinking coffee, and reading.  A relaxing delight.

And this whole place and experience was such a surprise for us.  Though we must have heard about it before planning this trip, neither of us remember knowing anything about Mackinac Island.  I encountered it when exploring the Michigan tourism site for possible places to go.  At first Michael was a little reluctant, as it look to manufactured.  But we had one of the best vacation experiences of our lives, and will definitely return.

And I haven't even told you yet about the really great day we spent biking around the island.  More to come, then.

"Greetings from Michigan, the Great Lake State"

We listened to the Sufjan Stevens album as we departed Saugatuck for our drive through the lower peninsula of Michigan (the one that looks like a mitt).  The day before we had listened to "Come Hear the Illinoise" as we entered that state.  Marty Peercy texted, "Good driving music, if a bit sad."

The drive took us through Grand Rapids, where I had attended the UCC General Synod in 2009, my only previous visit to the state.  We drove around the downtown and some of the pretty historical neighborhoods nearby, though I could not find the lovely streets that I had walked down in 2009.

The interior of Michigan is a mix of wooded areas and argicultural zones, with nice rivers.

Lunch was had at Blue Cow in Big Rapids.  I enjoyed my Croque Monsieur.  I forget what Michael had.  The service was very slow, which was annoying giving that we were basically driving all day.  We were also a little tired and grumpy.  They had a good selection of local wines and beers and I bought a mixed six-pack of beers to bring home.

We would have liked to take the longer, slower coastal road along Lake Michigan, past Sleeping Bear Dunes, and through Traverse City, but we didn't have time.  Another trip.

As it was, we made it to St. Ignace and the ferry about an hour later than we had hoped.  For the next two days we'd be without our car, enjoying our visit to Mackinac Island (the c is silent).

The drive across the five mile long Mackinac Bridge afforded great views of the straits.  I was glad Michael was driving -- I'm not great on bridges -- and there was a wind warning.

We had arrived in the UP (the Upper Peninsula).

The Black Crow

Simply the best meal (at a restaurant) we've yet eaten in Nebraska.

Ever since we lived in Oklahoma, Michael has wanted to eat dinner at The Black Crow in Beatrice, Nebraska.  He had heard wonderful things about it from colleagues at Oklahoma State University.  Shortly after we moved here, we went over to Beatrice to visit Homestead National Monument and had lunch at The Black Crow, but the lunch menu is much simpler.  We knew had to go come back.

So, for our third wedding anniversary, we decided to make the trek.  It surprised locals who said they'd never heard of the restaurant and were puzzled we'd drive so far for dinner.  That does seem to be a feature of Omaha, that they don't do that.  Whereas other places I've lived, you will often drive a long distance for a nice or fun dinner at a place with a great reputation, even if you have good restaurants in your own town.  The experience and adventure are part of it.

Beatrice is about one and a half hours away, south of Lincoln.  We were making such good time, we diverted through Crete so I could show Michael the campus of Doane College, our Congregationalist university.  The drive into Beatrice then took us back by Homestead National Monument.  We didn't stop, but it was at least good to drive by this year, the 150th anniversary of the Homestead Act.

Once in Beatrice, we still had time to kill, so we went back to the public library.  We had visited there two years ago to see a portrait of Clara Colby, leading Nebraska suffragist (the Off the Beaten Path guidebook had suggested this).  At the time the picture was not hanging, its frame had been damaged.  A librarian found it for us in a store room and was surprised that the guidebook suggested stopping there to see the painting.  She said they'd have to get it hung back up.  We were checking in to see if that had happened.  It hasn't.  I think we'll write a letter and donate some money to make that happen.

Then, finally, to The Black Crow.

The first course was dirty martinis and oysters on the half shell.  Next were Caesar salads.  Michael said it was the best Caesar he's ever had.  

We both ordered the same entree, ravioli with beef tips and mushrooms.  It was excellent, and comparable to any of our favourite pasta dishes we had in Italy last year.  

For dessert I had a cherry streusel and Michael had a parfait with shortbread.  I thought the shortbread was the best I'd ever eaten.

With dinner we had a delightful Argentine Malbec, and I had a lovely, complex Scotch with dessert (I don't remember the names).

Then we had a nice drive home and let the satisfaction of the meal settle in.

Driving across Nebraska

My destination was North Platte, Nebraska, on the western side of the state, almost to the Colorado border.  My route would take me along I-80 and one of the great transportation corridors of this continent.  Along this route lay the routes of early explorers, the Oregon Trail, the Mormon Trail, the transcontinental railroad, the Lincoln highway (the first transcontinental road), and Native trails before all of those.  I'd only driven portions of it before, and never with the leisure to stop.  My reason for driving this time was the annual meeting of the Nebraska Conference of the United Church of Christ.

My first stop was in Elkhorn for a pastoral visit.  Then I grabbed a quick lunch in Gretna.  I had to stop in Lincoln, because I had forgotten to deposit my paycheck while in Omaha.  Downtown Lincoln has lots of activity on a late spring weekday.  I was running almost two hours late by this time, so would have to curtail some of my planned stops.

My first real planned stop was Grand Island.  I was very impressed with the downtown that reminded me of small town downtowns of my childhood with lots of active businesses.  The guidebook had recommended a coney and milkshake at the Coney Island, and I obliged.  Grand Island looks like a really nice town.

Just outside of Grand Island, I walked a little along the trail at a nature center.

I got gas in Kearney and then stopped in Gothenburg to see an original Pony Express station.  Had a really nice chat with the guy working there.

Shortly before dinner I arrived in North Platte, settled into my motel room, and then headed out for dinner.  I visited the Fort Cody Trading Post fun, tacky souvenir shop first.  It's miniature replica of Buffalo Bill's Wild West Show is not to be missed.  When it sprung into action, it startled me, and I jumped.  Also, don't miss the two-headed calf.

I had a nice dinner of ribs at the Depot Grill and Pub, with excellent service.  I even went back for lunch the next day.  The atmosphere in North Platte was genuinely Western in a way the farther east parts of Nebraska aren't.

I'll write more about my touring of North Platte tomorrow.  On the drive home I didn't make any site seeing stops (save one, that I'll mention in a moment).  

Many people have a misconception that Nebraska is flat like Western Kansas or Eastern Colorado.  It was my impression before I came here.  And there are portion, especially that in the south central, like along this route between Grand Island and Lincoln.  

But most of the state is rolling hills.  From Grand Island to North Platte, you parallel the Platte River, driving along in its wide, lush valley.  Hills rise along the sides of the valley.  The river bottom is filled with trees.  There are multiple lakes from cut off channels, and the river itself meanders and has many channels.  It is a very pleasant drive in late spring on a clear, blue sky day.

There was lots of construction between Lincoln and York, so I was advised to exit at York and take highway 34 in through Seward.  I'm so very glad I did.  Very flat, almost dismal farm country from York to just a couple miles west of Seward, when suddenly woods and rolling hills, as you emerge upon what the locals humourously call "the Bohemian Alps."  I had just read about them in Ted Kooser's book Local Wonders.  I stopped in Seward and walked around the town square, enjoying the lovely day and the pretty courthouse dome.  

The drive from Seward to Lincoln was very nice, through woods and hills, and every time you emerged on top of a hill, you could see the capitol building in the distance.