The call of the ocean
The boys know the routine. Every time we go through Eugene, we stop at Track Town Pizza, a favorite pizza parlor barely off the University of Oregon campus. Eating at Track Town never fails to remind me of my first time there. I had barely gotten off the plane and my friendship family (a French teacher who had signed up to welcome a foreign student) took me to Track Town. FYI, Eugene is a big track and field town and the UO is the alma mater of Nike co-founder Phil Knight. Back during that first visit, I was quite unfamiliar with the habit of ordering a large pizza to share and even more shocked by the American custom of grabbing a piece and eating it with one’s hand. That dinner kicked off my American culture 101 class.
This time, our party of six showed up at a quiet time during summer and nearly had the place to ourselves. After lunch, we had to make another obligatory stop on campus, a visit to the Journalism School where I got my degree a couple decades ago (as had Phil Knight many years before me, but here stops the comparison). I am not sure what I expect since we always visit in the summer and the place is practically deserted. I walk the halls, recognize only a dwindling number of names on the teachers’ office doors and then leave. The school, the whole campus really, has a familiar feel to it even though it has been so many years.
The shocker this year was a monstrous new basketball court being built on campus. I kept trying to convince the boys it was an academic facility until I had to give up and admit it was another temple to sport. The fascination for college sports (and the money poured into it while budgets are cut elsewhere and financial difficulties are mounting for academic institutions) is something I still can’t get my arms around. I am kind of French that way. I believe that universities are for studying, not for glorifying athletes. More on that later as we are planning to attend a UO-Cal football game this Fall, putting my principles to the test.
We continued our trek west reaching the ocean at Lincoln City. We had been hot since the beginning of our drive from Bend, but the temperature dropped down significantly on the foggy coast. After driving north for a couple hours, we reached the little town of Manzanita where we had a cabin waiting for us a couple blocks from the ocean. The boys made a beeline for the beach and started digging while we settled down. Manzanita was the only place where we did not know anybody so our five days there had a very different feel. We took it easy, very easy.
The boys learned several of my mom’s classic dessert from her like her broyé and chocolate mousse. They built targets out of recycled cardboard to shoot the bow and arrow they had bought themselves in the cute town of Sisters, near Bend. They spent hours on the beach, making sandcastles and getting buried neck-deep in the sand. One day, we rented low-riding beach bikes and all had a blast. We discovered some local caramels we all grew addicted to. We had a long chat with the French-speaking Russian woman working in a knitting and chocolate store in cute downtown Manzanita. We visited the local library for a shot of Wi-Fi and permanent-loan books for the boys (their job is to pass on those books to somebody else).
On our most extrovert day, we ventured out to the cheese-making town of Tillamook and the breathtaking Three Capes scenic loop with its sunny/foggy views of the ocean. On the return trip, we stopped in Wheeler for some fresh oysters, which we gobbled up right by the bay, and a few enormous 8-year oysters we took home to cook. We also gave a try to the picture-perfect little town of Cannon Beach, a bit too perfect for my taste, where we found a great seafood place. We had loved Bend. We loved Manzanita for its relaxed feel and foggy atmosphere.
kelloucq
le 31.08.10 à 17:10
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