Sexy Chops Woody

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Our 33rd Wedding Anniversary, May 26, 1984

When we crossed into the Oregon border from Idaho, Hali shouted out with glee, “Yaaaaaay, we’re in Oregon!” How do you feel Woody?” I told her that I think I might cry only I was driving the van uphill with gusting headwinds going 45mph on narrow Highway 20. A FedEx truck was passing on the left. Too white-knuckled to show excitable emotion.

After a couple bends in the road we were headed downhill going 65mph and I shouted out with glee, “Yaaaaaaaay, we’re in Oregon!  The Beaver State!! ” passing the FedEx truck on the left. Then went into my own rendition of Red Solo Cup. . .

The chaparral landscape of Eastern Oregon was shaping into the foothills of the Cascades. The van was cruising past rocky outcrops and narrow gullies. Getting closer. . .  the next milepost read, BEND 10 miles. Then I started to cry.

We were as close to home as we could be. You see, Hali’s mom is in Bend and when we’re here we feel like we’re at home. Since Hali’s mom moved here some twenty years ago, Memorial weekend was almost always celebrated here.  After the winter they’ve had in Bend, the locals are ready and eager to get outdoors and celebrate their long awaited summer. Well deserved.

So we’ve taken up our space downstairs, sized-up the garden tools, and batted 4 for 4 on my first FREE craigslist offerings. Mostly uncluttered clutter.

In any case, we have found a place to park Thor until we are ready to zip into Portland. And by zip, I mean, don’t hold your breath Portland. Give us a few days. That will give Emily plenty of time to put up a finish line in her driveway. And a trophy!

Trophies aside, we will be staying in Portland for the most part of the summer. I’ve found my surrogate four-legged companion. I call him anything but his real name, Tanner: BigHead, T-bone, Dough Face. All with great passion. Just Beware Woody, Don’t try to fetch his tennis ball from under the bed. That’s where a good backhand comes in handy. And thus the nicknames.

The homecoming we’ve been looking forward to. The final leg. Oh yeah, and about that trophy. . . Hmmm. . . Two years away from Portland, the town I call home.

Well deserved.

Shout out! We want to thank our friend Keith for coming up with the title.




About Woody

The travel bug is contagious. I caught it in 1985 while traveling with Hali on a three month backpacking trip through Western Europe. Having a passion for geography, local history & culture, and with a journal in my back pocket, I hope to share our experiences through this blog – whether traveling the well worn rail, or off the beaten trail.

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