Room with a View

When someone comes in from out of town, particularly if they haven't been out for a long time, it's good to take in some sights. My thoughts tend to run to the beach, Mt. Hood, Timberline, the Gorge…places that will put beautiful pictures in someone's mind, places that will give them not only a sense of how physically incredible our corner of the country is, but also the sensations of the place—the smells, sounds and tastes of the Northwest.

So when my sister-in-law came out from Vermont recently, we took her to Hopworks for some of our favorite beer. Owner Christian Ettinger came over to say hello, and when he heard we had a visitor from Vermont, he personally insisted on pouring her a full tasting tray. What a guy…and talk about making us look good!

There was also lots of food, including a requisite trip to one of our fabulous farmers' markets and a big dinner with friends in the back yard featuring some of Dave's signature smoked brisket. But when it came time for a drive, we were torn. Coast? Mountains? Fortunately, she's almost as crazy about beer as her brother, so it made sense to take a drive up through the Gorge to Hood River and Double Mountain Brewing.

Which allowed us the opportunity to take the old Columbia River Highway and stop at Vista House, a must-see for tourists but one I've avoided for just that reason. Though when we arrived, lo and behold the old viewpoint house, which had been shuttered and closed for many decades, was open and had been beautifully restored. Even the upper balcony that circumnavigates the building was open, allowing a view that is still one of the most breathtaking in all of Oregon (video, top).



After a stop at Multnomah Falls and lunch in Hood River, we headed across the river and drove down the Washington side to Stevenson, parasailors skidding across the sparkling water. Pulling over to experience the full force of the Gorge winds, we saw that a new kinetic sculpture, called Galaxy, had been installed at the city's waterfront park.

Crossing back to Oregon over the spectacular Bridge of the Gods, happy we'd decided to take another look at some old favorites and discovering there were new things to learn about them!

Spaaaaahhhhhhhh...

I'm not big on pampering. I don't do manicures or pedicures, and "having my hair did" consists of going to the nearest Bishop's and having a heavily pierced and tattooed stylist whack off several inches. So getting a massage isn't a weekly, or even a yearly, event in my life. But when my friend Mary invited me to join her at the Bonneville Hot Springs Spa & Resort for some spa action, I jumped at the chance.

You see, as far as massages go, I'm a moth to a flame. An alkie to his bottle. As Julie says in the musical Showboat (see above), "Fish gotta swim, birds gotta fly." And when I'm offered an afternoon of spa treatments, you gotta know I'll be there.

We started out mid-morning, and even though the weather was semi-crappy, meaning cool and blustery, the incredibly dramatic landscape of the Gorge, with silken ribbons of mist weaving around the hilltops, made for an amazing drive. In 40 minutes we'd crossed over the Bridge of the Gods, driven through the little town of North Bonneville and pulled up to the front door.

Now, from the outside this place has all the appeal of a Soviet-era institution, but once you're inside it just gets better and better. The spa staff whisks you into a (very small) locker room where you change into a plush white cotton robe and rubber slippers. I'd chosen their Ultimate Relaxation bath, wrap and massage, and my attendant Lainie (I had an attendant? Cool!) quietly ushered me into a darkened room with several tubs separated by standing screens.

I was given the choice of a lavender or chamomile-scented bath, and on a nearby table was a pitcher of water straight from the spring and a little cup of grapes (unpeeled, alas!). Lainie advised me that keeping the water at body temperature would allow more minerals to be absorbed into my body, but I ignored that and went for warmer water.

After about a half hour she was back and held up the robe while I disembarked from my porcelain ship (lower the gangplank!) and took me into another darkened room lined with bodies cocooned in sheets, their faces covered with towels. I had the urge to laugh, but stifled it just in time. Deciding on a medium-tight wrap (rather than tight or loose), she put down a eucalyptus-soaked towel and tucked me in for a half hour rest.

Then it was on to the massage with Nick, who escorted me to the men's side of the spa (?) for an 80-minute workout on the table. It went all too quickly, of course, but as we poured ourselves back into the car for the drive home, I was thinking maybe the next pampering event would be coming up sooner than later.